#I should really go to bed instead of just adding to the notes of this post

[respectthepetty]

Pit Babe 2 Colors - Ep. 8

I'm watching the second season of Pit Babe on mute with no subtitles and double-speed just like I did the first season, but as much as the plot is plotting, I keep getting distracted by these damn scooters! I looked at the companies sponsoring this show, and not one of them is a scooter company, so is this an actual racing thing and people get to their cars via scooter?!

I'm looking like Christopher Waymond just annoyed as hell every time one of these men scoots on in because I need to know why they are there, and if it's plot relevant (but why would scooters be plot relevant?).

However, even though I don't know why the scooters are here (or why the bar from season one isn't), I do know the colors mean things, and the brain scans in the lab are getting redder instead of bluer, which can only mean bad stuff is happening with Charles.

It also means that the experiment did not work on Peter either since he went from blue to red.

Basically, whatever the plan was isn't going well now, and even though Jeffery seems okay in his blue compared to the last episode where he was in a hospital bed,

Shit ain't looking too good for Alan. He has worn red too many times, and if the experiments keep failing, I think Alan's time is going to be up sooner rather than later.

And I think Vegas' Hedgehog is going to be part of the reason Alan is going to be put in danger because even though my Slut for Christ has the blue wrapped around his neck (and hopefully choking him until he becomes good again!)

He drank from the red cup AGAIN!

Southwest Airlines, you better get your boy in check before he gets wrecked. *squinting* Are you wearing red too? No. No? No.

But something is up with Southwest Airlines, and that something is being a prisoner of love since he was behind bars in the (not season one) bar.

Dean was having a completely different experience in that bar right next to him as he wasn't behind bars, but that doesn't mean he wasn't experiencing something (with the top of his head being fuzzy).

Dean started this season by getting shot, being thrown off a bridge, and showing up at Alan's house in the shadow of the night, and he continues to linger in the darkness periodically throughout the season. Everyone else gets light, but he doesn't.

Like in this shot, he is completely blacked out even though he is standing right next to Southwest Airlines on the right, so my question is "did he die?" We saw William get beat within an inch of his life, then get experimented on, and William was also always in the darkness compared to Barbie, so could Dean have had a similar experience?

On the note of people who should be dead, I think this is actually Waymond, and not Christopher Waymond because there are no glasses, but I do not understand why he is with Kentana. This didn't seem like a dream, but I really don't understand what it is.

Which only added to the oddness of Peter and Kentana fading out right in front of each other while discussing this. It's as if the narrative was stating that they are no longer part of each other's lives.

They really aren't seeing each other as they are now, but more like ghosts of their past lives.

And the narrative has continuously shown that there is a barrier between them throughout the season, so was this the episode to solidify that they are finally removing themselves from each other's life?

Because, at times, Peter has served as the barrier between Kimberly and Kentana being the perfectly balanced Light x Dark Duo because he tends to stand between them.

But now that Kimberly has made himself clear with a kiss (THAT'S MY BOY!), there is literally nothing standing between them anymore since Kimberly did not leave room for Jesus or Peter during that kiss.

And Kentana returned the favor by holding Kimberly close during their break-in. Peter is no longer between them. Peter and Kentana are fading out of each other's lives. My Dark x Light Duo can finally be together!!!!

FUCK!

I knew Kentana was going to get snatched because the Jeffrey/Charles' vision showed Kentana being experimented on, but the red in that warehouse was so alarming that I couldn't ignore the danger the boys were in.

Just like I couldn't ignore how crazy Peter is being! I did not realize that the place Peter was going in the first episode was Waymundo's place! I thought Peter had pictures of Waymundo in his large bedroom or something, but no . . . . Peter has a key to Waymundo's apartment?!

There might be blue flowers on that table and blue lights coming through the window to let me know everyone in this room is good, but Peter is not good, you know? Like . . . he needs therapy!

And he needs therapy because I think he is slipping up with Christopher Waymond instead of being more aware. For example, Peter is using his powers on Christopher, yes.

But I think Christopher is using powers as well because either Peter has seen that Christopher has searched his computer at home and is okay with it or Peter is just blinded, and not just by love. I think Christopher actually has a power to block people's powers in a way that makes them blind to the truth.

However, I thought William's power was going to be amplifying others' powers, but the people in my tags were right, and he can do funky stuff with time. Congratulations to the folks who were correct!

And Charles, with Jeffrey's power, not only saw his future of being snatched by William, but he also saw William messing with time. Yet it was strange that he saw it happening slowly in the house instead of his visions playing out quickly the way Jeffrey's usually do with flashes. Perhaps Charles' other powers are interacting with his new power in a way that changes the powers.

Because he didn't see Barbie getting taken down by William (who was looking awfully creepy). He only saw William approaching him in the house, so maybe Charles' powers evolved to show William thinking about kidnapping Charles but not the act itself. Or are Charles and William linked somehow?

Regardless of whatever is happening here, Blue Boy Charles is lying to Black Brooder Barbie. He has to know more than he is telling everyone. I dealt with his looks enough last season to know when this mfer is up to something.

So does he know Alan is in danger? Does he know Dean is dead? Does he know Sonic is a whole ass problem? Does he know Kimberly and Kentana are getting married in the spring? What.Does.He.Know?!

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

Me seeing someone with a cool name: oooooo, what if

Another part of my brain: no. we spent enough time getting to Jonah. we’re not doing it again

[dragonsondragons]

Self Care - Jack Abbot x Resident!Reader

Summary: Jack’s new girlfriend takes self care really seriously given the line of work they’re in. He starts to observe these habits and some of them rub off on him.

Tags: Super fluffy, no use of y/n, implied age gap, suggested sexual activity, no real smut just Jack feeling you up a little, beekeeper!Jack

Author’s Note: Why am I obsessed with beekeeper!jack. There may be more where this came from because I had so much fun with this one– perhaps Jack and reader gardening (wink wink) while in their garden? Leads to sweet and slow stoned sex? Let me know what you think or if you have any requests! I’m always looking for more ideas. 

Also, fill out this google form if you'd like to be added to my taglist :)

You do your little stretching routine after you wake up and you ask him if he wants to join you. He gives it a try, reluctantly at first. Then he starts to realize how good it makes him feel and does it with you every time. 

“What's this pep in your step you got going on here, brother?” Robby notices one day at hand-off. “Something to do with your favorite resident? Or should I say…new lady friend,” he does a little jazz hands.

“I regret ever telling you about us,” Jack rolls his eyes at lady friend. “But yeah, actually. She’s got me stretching when we wake up,” he explains.

“Ah. She’s got you whipped is what you mean.”

Jack chuckles under his breath. “Fuck off, stretching is good for you. And being whipped isn’t so bad either.” ____

You have a little garden that you tend to in the morning as the sun’s still rising right when you get off shift. It's cathartic, to take care of something that can't puke or bleed on you. Can’t punch you in the face. 

Both you and Jack had worked last night and it was a tough one. One of those nights where it felt like you lost more than you saved. You asked Jack to come back to your place after the shift ended, just wanting to be near him after your hell of a day. 

It was still early in your relationship, you had only spent the night at Jack’s place. This was his first time coming to stay at yours. 

You could tell he was so exhausted that you offered to drive home and he eventually accepted. He sat in the passenger seat of his Tacoma with his eyes closed as you drove, envisioning a shower, you looking soft in a ratty old t-shirt, and eating take out on the couch before going to sleep.

Instead, after you made two mugs of tea and set one before him on the coffee table, you headed to the backyard, slipping through the sliding glass door with a quiet “be right back, have to take care of some stuff real quick.”

After you’re gone more than 10 minutes and he almost dozed off twice, he started to wonder what this stuff was. He peeks out the glass door, seeing you knelt down at the edge of a garden bed peeling weeds out of the ground around your plants. The garden hose was on, filling up a big watering can to your left.

He comes to stand next to your kneeling form, placing a tender hand on the crown of your head and lightly running his fingers through your hair. “What are you doing, baby?”

“Checking on the plants. It helps me clear my mind from the day.” You smile softly up at him, see his free hand rub at his weary eyes. “Why don’t you go hop in the shower, I’ll be right in," you promise. He nods, turns to head back inside. 

He couldn’t believe you wanted to be pulling weeds and lugging watering cans after a shift. But when you trailed in a few minutes later, joining him under the spray of the water, he could see the way your shoulders were looser. You were more peaceful, at ease. It made him feel more calm too, just knowing you felt a little bit better. 

He started lugging bags of soil for you the following mornings. Dug up trenches to lay a new irrigation system for the crops. This time of spring brought so many birds tweeting around in the morning air, the perfect sound track to your calming moments together in the garden.

It was a peaceful endeavor, one Jack never thought he would find himself doing but turns out he absolutely loves it. After you tell him about the benefits of pollinators he really wants to start keeping bees (Jack Abbot is beekeeping age). He does all this research about it to make sure he doesn’t fuck with the bees, wants to do it right. Gets the whole mesh suit which you can't stop laughing at the first time he puts it on. Names his hive Beetopia. He's serious about these bees and you find it so endearing. You love that he's meshing into your life like this, making his own niche in something you both do together.

Sometimes when there isn’t much to be done he’ll make breakfast while you tend to the garden. He will always try to utilize the fruits and vegetables you grow as well as his self-harvested honey whenever he can. You eat it out on the patio, admiring the work the two of you have done. Your own little paradise. ____

Out of all the self care tactics that you have brought into his life, the bubble bath is definitely one of his sleeper favorites. His house had a huge bathtub in it that he never once used. One of the first times you stayed over, you went to use the bathroom before going to bed. His eyes were already closed when he heard you squeal in the en suite attached to his room. 

“How did you not tell me about this!” you yelled out to him. 

“What, the bathroom?” he responded half asleep and confused. You came back into the room and jumped into the bed next to him, resting your chin on his chest. He peeked his eyes open as he rubbed up and down your back.

“No! That massive tub, genius!” He was surprised. Hadn’t thought once about that thing since he moved in. 

“You like it?”

“I don't like it, Jack. I love it. Baths are so soothing and rejuvenating. I always feel like a newborn baby when I get out of the bath. And I don't have a tub at my place.”

“You’re welcome to use it anytime you want, honey.” He shifted you to your side, cuddling into you and kissing your cheek. 

“You’re too good to me. And as a reward I’m making you get in there with me.” he lets out a breath of a laugh as he drifts off to sleep with you in his arms. ___

You both had the next day off, for once. So there was no time like the present to christen Jack’s bathtub. He was nervous about getting in, not being able to wear his prosthetic to keep him stable, but you got in first and held onto him tight as he stepped over the edge and eased himself down into the water. You settled in front of him, letting out a breath as you melted back into him. 

You thought you liked baths already, but this was pure bliss. His strong body against you, your breaths synching up. He washed your hair and you washed his. The warm water soothed his achy back and the overcompensating muscles in his leg. 

Safe to say, baths become a regular occurrence for you two.

You get him a matching fluffy robe with a hood because one time he said he was jealous of how cozy you looked in yours after a bath. Once, Shen stopped by to drop off the butterfly portable ultrasound that he had borrowed and Jack answered the door in said robe. 

Jack had his stoic work face on, the grumpiness only enhanced by the fact that Shen’s visit was interrupting his time with you.

“Ha, you look like a Sith, Abbot,” Shen teased him, butterfly in one hand and a half drank Dunkin’ in the other. “Robe’d up and about to cut my hand off.” He took a loud sip of his coffee as Jack just glared at him. 

“Get out of here before I actually consider it.” He tugged the Butterfly from Shen’s grasp, about to slam the door in his face. 

“Oh c'mon Jack, that’s not very nice.” You ran up to the door and opened it further to reveal yourself. 

“Sorry John, he didn’t mean that.” 

“Yeah right.” He takes in your appearance beside Jack, wearing the same exact fuzzy robe. “Like the matchy matchy, very cute you two.” Shen pulls out his phone and snaps a picture before either of you could even process it. “That’s totally going in the group chat, dude,” he laughed. 

“Not making a good case for yourself here,” Jack muttered. Shen couldnt stop laughing, and at that you moved your hand off the door jamb and let Jack slam it shut. 

He turned to you then and let out a little chuckle at the whole ordeal. “He’s a piece of work.”

“Thought he was your favorite resident?”

“No, you're my favorite resident.” ___

Besides stretching to start the day on a good note, taking soothing baths, and tending to your garden you also do yoga sometimes to turn your mind off and tune into your body after a hectic shift. He’s still reluctant to try that one, and likes to give you your space to do the things you enjoy on your own sometimes. So he doesn't join you for that, but he loves watching you as you get ready to head to the studio. 

You always wear these skin tight, colorful matching workout sets that drive him crazy. He doesn’t mean to keep you from getting to class, but sometimes he just can’t help the temptation.

“Baby,” he draws it out in a long groan. He crossed the room to you, grabbing your hips and ghosting his hands up and down, reverently. You were trying to gather your keys and yoga mat to head out the door. “You’re killing me here with the powder blue.” The leggings hugged your ass just right. God, he was about to start drooling.

You try to squirm out of his hold to put your shoes on, but he won't budge. “Get a good look, Jack, because I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don't leave right now.” 

“Oh no, you're gonna be late already? Maybe you should just stay here with me,” he pouts suggestively. 

“Already paid for the class. Actually you did, your card’s on the account.” With your resident salary, Jack liked to treat you to things like a membership to a fancy yoga studio with free green smoothies. He loved ‘providing’ for you, even though you both knew you could be just fine by yourself. 

“Even better. I don't care about losing 30 bucks right now. Because you look way too sexy in those leggings to leave me here all alone.” He pecks your lips, then down your neck, sucking the spot where he knows will draw out a moan from you. You grasp your hand into his hair, getting lost in his efforts to entice you. 

“Let me peel these off of you,” he begs, running his fingers under the waistband of the leggings. His hands travel lower, kneading at your ass and pulling you tighter against him. “Just let me worship your beautiful body, sweetheart.”

How could you say no to that? Maybe you would miss your class, but this was a form of self care as good as any.

[mmywanda]

Pretty When You Sleep — W.M

——

Pairing: Dark!WandaMaximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Nights are lot more dangerous than you think.

Warnings: noncon/dubcon, somnophilia, drugging, blood, murder, stalking, mentions of a knives, strap-on.

Word count: 2.9k

A/N: This is a dark fic, if you find any of the warnings triggering, please do not read. Happy Halloween! men & minors dni.

Beta read by @poulengp <3

——

It started off small.

All the shoes you left in a mess by the door now neatly stacked up, laces undone, just so they were easier to slip on. The lamp you'd accidently leave on before falling asleep, being off when you woke up in the morning. Clothes that were dumped on the floor, suddenly folded up in your drawer.

Then it got weirder.

Your purse being filled with fifty dollar bills on the mornings you worried you wouldn't have enough to afford your groceries. Some of your clothes, specifically underwear, going missing. Your phone being in the other room when you woke up. Waking up with different pyjama bottoms on.

As it got worse, you found yourself confiding in your friend. Well, a little more than a friend, but the two of you had never labelled it. The two of you sat in the corner of a local cafe, coffee warming up your hands. It was a cool autumn day, causing you to wrap up in a scarf and fluffy coat. This crimson coloured scarf had suddenly appeared in your closet, right when you needed it. It should have been wrong to wear something that had inexplicably appeared in your home, but it was cold, and what else were you to do?

"It's just getting weird. Even the leftovers in my fridge that were about to be mouldy are being thrown away. I see it in my garbage bag. And you know me, I don't even throw it out until it's literally gone blue."

Erin laughed, "You're quite careless. And disgusting." Yes, you were, but that wasn't the point!

"Shush. I'm actually worried here. I'm starting to think.. no.. no one can be breaking into my apartment every night, I'd wake up and hear them. God, I think I'm going mad." You mumbled, hand gripping tightly around the coffee mug. It reminded you of the time you'd left a cold cup of tea on the side, and had fallen asleep. When you woke up an hour later, the cup was hot, as if it had just been warmed up again.

"You've added another lock to your door, you don't even have a spare key for it. It's impossible for someone to break in. And you live on the top floor. Honey, you've been exhausted recently, it's not uncommon for people to get forgetful. You probably did those things while sleepy." Erin reassured you, placing a hand over yours.

You sighed deeply, downing the last drops of drink you had left, Erin doing the same. "Yeah, you're probably right. It's just.. strange."

—

As you entered your apartment late at night, instead of throwing your keys carelessly on a table, you decided to tuck them in the nightstand by your bed. Just to be safe, even if it was just for your own peace of mind. You jumped into the shower, cracking open the window so the steam could be let out. You lived on the top floor of your block, no one could look in, which was always a good thing because your bathroom got very steamy, recently the ceiling paper even curling at the side from the condensation. Making a mental note to look up the prices for someone to redecorate.

You really needed a shower today, you and Erin had gotten a little.. excited earlier, and it always made you cringe not showering before bed after an evening of sex. Under the warm water, you hummed a song you'd had stuck in your head all day. It was a song you didn't even recognise, in fact you weren't even sure you'd heard it before. All you knew was that it was in a different language, and it was comforting.

Once clean, you felt overwhelmingly tired, it had been a long day, so you decided to go straight to bed after having your usual cup of camomile tea, with two spoons of sugar. Then you got into bed. Before you could doze off though, you decided to read for a bit, opening up your latest novel of your favourite author. It can't have been too exciting though, because you fell asleep before the first chapter was over.

When dawn broke, the early sun breaking through cracks in your window, you stirred, blinking a few times. Something felt strange, like every morning for the past few months. You felt a stickiness between your thighs, and your pyjama bottoms were definitely not the ones you fell asleep in. You stared down at the light blue shorts, eyebrows furrowed. Were you a sleepwalker? No, your past roommates would have told you. Maybe you'd had a really good dream and just forgotten it? Fuck, this was weird.

Deciding there was nothing you could really do about the situation, you got up, opting to take another shower to get rid of the icky feeling.

It was when you were munching on your chocolate flavoured cereal that you heard your phone ping. Automatically, you put your spoon down, picking up the device you so heavily relied upon. It was a text from an unknown number, causing you to frown. Opening it, you saw there was a picture attached to the text. And when you examined it, your blood ran cold.

It was a picture of you, naked in bed. Your body spread out, intimate area completely exposed.

"What the fuck?" You whispered, reading what had come with it.

Unknown number: Three orgasms in one night, that's your record so far.

You didn't know what to think— someone had.. touched you while you were asleep? They broke in and did this to you? You shivered in fear, your shaky hands typing out a response before you could even think about what the police would say if you went to them; to not engage with a dangerous person.

You: Who the fuck is this?

There was no reply. Not when you left for work, not when you arrived home in the evening.

You were rigid with fear. A sensible person would have called the police, or at least called someone like Erin, asked to stay over, but you just couldn't. Every time you were about to dial a number, something inside you made you stop. You couldn't explain it.

So here you were, sat bolt upright on your couch. It was around eleven, and your eyes were growing heavy. Your camomile tea mug now empty, you blinked a few times, just aching to lay down and rest. No, you had to stay up! You had to see who had been breaking into your home. But.. you were so tired, a sudden wave of exhaustion washing over you. Your eyes closed slowly, slumping down and falling into a deep sleep.

—

The next morning the first thing you did was check your phone, seeing if the stranger had replied, and they had. Two images attached to a message. And what you saw horrified you. The first picture, one of you in bed, with a.. strap-on, buried inside you. It made you feel sick, that someone had done this to you unwillingly. Though the expression on your face, clearly asleep but pleasure in your features. You could even see your own arousal dripping down the toy.

The second image quite literally made you throw up, You ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet bowl as the picture burned in your mind. It had been someone laying on a floor, covered in blood, a knife wedged in their chest.

You had to go to the police. There was no choice now. For some reason, you looked back at the picture, and your mouth dropped open. That someone was a familiar.

It was Erin.

You just knew, it was her jacket, her brown eyes wide open in fear, her blue dyed hair drenched in her own blood. It caused you to throw up again.

—

"I—I think my best friend has been murdered."

You whispered in a shaky voice to a police officer who had sat you down in a cold grey room. After seeing what you'd been sent, not even reading the message that had come with it, you rushed down to the local police station, practically screaming for someone to talk to.

"Why do you suspect this?" He asked in a gruff voice. He didn't seem to be all that serious about the situation, upsetting you even further.

"I've got pictures! And texts!" Your fingers fumbled around your pocket to retrieve your phone, opening your messages app.

It wasn't there.

"So?" The officer prompted, clearly unimpressed.

"It was.. it was right here.." You mumbled, opening every contact you had in case it had magically gotten messed up.

But no, the messages had vanished.

"Look, lady, I think you should go home and get some rest. You look tired. Our minds make things up when we're lacking sleep."

"But—"

"Listen, if something happens, come back in. But for now, you're making empty claims."

Hanging your head down dejectedly, you fought back tears. You knew Erin was dead. You just knew it.

—

Tonight you weren't going to fall asleep. Just to make sure, you downed two mugs of strong coffee instead of your tea. You hated it, but you couldn't risk falling asleep. The intruder— the murderer, was going to break in, you were sure.

The time ticked on. Eleven o'clock, twelve o'clock, one o'clock..

Until your phone buzzed. Dread washed over you. There was no one else who would be making your phone light up at this time of night.

Unknown number: How am I meant to enjoy you when you don't have your tea? You look so pretty when you sleep.

This confused you. Why would they be concerned about what beverage you were drinking? You typed out a response quickly.

You: I'm not scared of you.

It was a stupid thing to say, you knew that really. But the only thing you could think of was to pretend you weren't scared. Maybe that would make them bored and leave you alone. All you could think about what Erin's lifeless body. The blood, god.. all that blood..

Unknown number: See you soon, sweetheart.

Your eyes widened in horror; what the fuck did that mean? This person was on their way? Sickness rose up in your throat, and you ran to your kitchen, grabbing the first sharp object you could find— a medium sized kitchen knife. You clutched it to your chest, running to your bedroom, locking the door and panting heavily. You considered pushing some furniture against the door, but you knew you needed to call the police. Then you realised you'd left your phone in the kitchen.

Fuck! Fuck!

You had put yourself in the worst position possible. But before you could panic over that, you felt a gust of cold air. You frowned, turning around to see the window wide open. You definitely hadn't left it like that before, but it was also impossible for anyone else to have opened it. You lived on the top floor for Christ's sake!

Not knowing what to do first; close the window, get your phone, block the door, or just curl up in a ball and hope it would all just go away. You opted for grabbing your phone. If you could call the police, they'd be on their way, hopefully before your stalker could arrive.

Cautiously unlocking the bedroom door, you stepped out into the hallway. The lights that had previously been on, were off, leaving the whole apartment pitch black apart from the moon shining through the windows and the bedroom light.

Your steps were slow, ears straining to hear anything, but there was silence. The only sound heard was the hammering of your heart in your chest.

Until the silence was broken.

"Seeing you awake is strange. But exciting nonetheless."

The voice came from right behind you. Spinning around in horror, you finally came face to face with the person who had been tormenting you.

"Tormenting? That's a bit harsh, sweetheart."

The woman was dressed in all black, a hood covering most of her face. Light from the bedroom accentuated her figure, but more importantly, the silhouette of a knife and a cloth in her hands.

"W—who are you?" It was an attempt at a shout, maybe to attract the attention of the apartment below you, but your voice could barely manage a squeak.

"I've told you before, baby. You're a forgetful thing when you're asleep, mhm?" She stepped forward, causing you to take a step back.

"You've been taking advantage of me! You've been breaking into my home! You killed.. Erin!" You whispered, backing up against the wall. You had no where to go. You were most likely to die, just like Erin.

"Sweet girl, I'm not going to kill you. I could never hurt you." The woman's voice was almost softer as she approached you, only two feet away now. Was she reading your mind?

"But you killed my friend." The images of Erin's body filled your mind, and how you were going to end up just like her.

"Your 'friend'? Please, she was begging for her own life, not for you to be safe." She let out a cold laugh. "It was so satisfying, the sound of my blade tearing through her flesh and tissue." It almost sounded like she'd gotten pleasure from it

Finally, you got some sense and energy into you as she expressed her fucked up feelings. You let out a shattering scream, "HELP! HELP!"

The woman sighed in disappointment. It took her less than a second to raise the cloth up to your face, covering your nose and mouth. The smell of chemicals was overwhelming. You fought against it, until you couldn't anymore. Body falling limp to the ground.

—

The noise that woke you up was the sound of a squeaking. Your eyes wouldn't open, wondering what was going on. You then felt something inside you, a pressure building up in your lower stomach. What—

Finally, your vision became clearer. You blinked a few times, looking around you. The scene became pretty clear.

The woman was in between your legs, a strap-on buried inside you, just like that photo. The squeaking was the bed as she thrusted into you.

You should have screamed, but the pressure in your abdomen was too intense. You let out a whine, trying to move your tired body, but it was useless. You didn't even want to stop it, it felt too.. good.

"You're awake." She stated, a slight pant in her voice. Her hood was down now, revealing her auburn wavy hair, pale skin and deep green eyes.

"Let me.." You trailed off, because you didn't know whether to say 'go' or 'come'.

She let out a chuckle, holding your hips firmly as she thrusted into you. The feeling was delicious. Something about the fact your body was sleepy, heavy, while being fucked by a woman so dangerous..

No! Why are you thinking like this? It almost felt like your thoughts weren't yours anymore. Were you going insane?

The woman grunted, wet noises filling the room, making it very apparent that your body did not hate this at all. "You can come for me, it'll be your third."

Your third? You couldn't even bring yourself to ask about it, your body just trembled, a pending orgasm taking over, making you whimper in delight.

"Fuck!"

Tears filled your eyes from the sheer pleasure, and the fact that you should have hated this. You were filled with so much shame and guilt. This was the person who had killed your best friend, who'd stripped you of your dignity.

"Shh, darling, you don't have to feel guilty. You're allowed to feel pleasure. And your friend, well, she was just in the way."

Her twisted words made you feel sick again, but you didn't have time to dwell on that because the woman's hand suddenly reached down and started to circle your clit while simultaneously thrusting into you. A loud groan escaped your throat, eyes practically rolling to the back of your head.

"You're going to beat your record, four times will be an achievement." Her accented voice was hot and heavy, turning you on even more.

"I— mhm!" You tried to speak, but you didn't know what to say.

"Let go, detka, show me how good I make you feel." She gripped your waist with her spare hand, red manicured nails digging into your skin.

Without warning, you came hard, spilling all over the strap. The woman moaned, slowing down her thrusts and eventually pulling out, leaving you unbearably empty. She slipped the strap off and went to straddle you, leaning her head down to kiss your neck. You felt utter bliss, forgetting how incredibly fucked up and sick this was.

"Seeing as this is the first time we've met while you've been conscious, I'll introduce myself. I'm Wanda." She giggled, as if nothing had just happened, and had been happening for months. Your head spun, recognising that name somehow, as if it had been spoken in your dreams.

"Relax now, sweet thing. I'll be here when you wake up." Wanda said softly, lying beside you, wrapping the duvet around your naked body. Her arm laid loosely across your stomach, hearing her breathing slow down to something calmer than before.

You didn't say anything, too busy feeling a wave of satisfaction, as awful as that sounded. It was like your mind was used to this, and that it was something you'd always wanted.

The last thing you remembered was a soft lullaby, in a language you didn't recognise. You'd heard it before, in your dreams. And it brought you great comfort.

——

Tags: @rezwrites @hatdog96 @ion-news @esposadejoyhuerta @moimmmm @grimlygoblin @lizziesflower @yandereloverb312 @beggingonmykneesforher

——

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #18 死

† procurement †

"Waking up in his bed should feel like victory, but all you can think about are those pill bottles on his nightstand."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9,5k

content: morning vulnerability and insomnia revelations, elevator sexual tension that goes nowhere, council meeting drama with heated arguments, mission prep with jessi's weapons expertise, undercover outfits that make jeon stare, AD's suspicious surveillance knowledge, and the calm before infiltrating mdf territory

☠ author's note ☠

As a European, I have absolutely no clue about guns so let's hope my research was decent and their weapons actually make sense ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) If any gun enthusiasts are reading this and I've somehow made a sniper rifle that shoots rainbows, just... pretend it's for the plot.

ANYWAY THE BIG DAY IS FINALLY HERE!!! Next chapter is THE MISSION and are we excited??? Because I AMMMMM!!! I've been building up to this for literal months and my chaotic little writer brain is VIBRATING with anticipation!

Jeon + motorbike = HOT AS HELL 🥵 Like sir, you're already dangerous enough, did you really need to add vehicular competence to your list of attractive qualities? RUDE.

Also Jessi is so mother mommy mama I love her! I mean, I say that about every single one of my characters, don't I? But what can I do—they're all so complex in my opinion! I have to really put myself in their position in every single scene and think genuinely about how they would react. Because one thing is how I WANT them to react, and another is how they would REALISTICALLY react, you know? Keeping those two aligned is harder than it looks, trust me!

Anyway ramble ramble ramble shut up Kiki we don't care—I KNOW BUT I'M THE AUTHOR so you're gonna read my rambling because I said so! I don't write 8k words per chapter to have my feelings dismissed! Y'all gonna put up with me whether you like it or not (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

Thanks for reading as always, love y'all! Now buckle up because things are about to get SPICY!

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎.

The obnoxious blaring of Jeon's alarm tears through the quiet morning.

It's 6 AM—that weird time when everything feels kind of hazy and unreal, like the world hasn't quite decided if it's night or day yet.

His phone keeps buzzing against the nightstand, screen lighting up like a strobe light.

You're barely awake, caught in that fuzzy space between sleep and consciousness. Jeon's sprawled half on top of you, which should probably be uncomfortable but... isn't. His arm's thrown over your waist in this weirdly soft way that doesn't match his usual don't-touch-me vibe. You can feel his chest rising and falling against your back, his breath warm on your neck.

For a second, you think about waking him up. But he looks so p̶e̶a̶c̶e̶f̶u̶l̶ different when he's sleeping—none of that cold, distant Chief of Tactical stuff.

Just a guy who really needs some rest.

"Jeon," you try anyway, voice coming out all scratchy from sleep. "Your alarm."

He makes this grunt that might be words but definitely isn't, face pressed against your skin. Instead of getting up, he actually pulls you closer, burying his face in the pillow like if he ignores the alarm hard enough, it'll give up and go away.

"Jeon, come on. Get it." You nudge him with your elbow because that fucking alarm is driving you insane. It just keeps going and going, like some kind of electronic torture device.

He lets out this long-suffering groan that perfectly captures the eternal struggle between wanting to sleep and having actual responsibilities.

His hand flops around looking for his phone, movements all clumsy in that way people only get when they're not really awake yet. When he finally finds it, he misses the screen completely on his first try.

"Fuck off," he mumbles—definitely talking to the phone, not you. The woodsy scent of his skin mixed with mint from his breath fills your lungs.

After what feels like forever (but is probably like, ten seconds), blessed silence falls over the room.

Jeon just tosses his phone somewhere (hopefully not off the bed) and immediately curls back around you like some kind of clingy octopus. His body's radiating heat like a furnace, and he's definitely not planning on letting you go anytime soon.

His aura wraps around you like summer rain, all soft and warm, making your head spin in the best way.

(You're starting to think maybe he's not a morning person.)

"Five more minutes," he mumbles, voice all rough and sleepy like some kid who doesn't want to go to school.

You can't help but smirk.

Who would've thought the terrifying Chief of Tactical was such a baby in the morning?

"Five more minutes, and you'll be the one explaining to the Council why you're late." You poke his side. "Good luck with that."

"What council?" He sounds like he's halfway to dreamland already.

"Council of 9, dumbass. You know, that super important reunion about tonight's mission?"

His only response is this little grunt before his breathing starts evening out again.

Oh no. Not happening.

You kick him under the sheets—not hard enough to hurt, just enough to be annoying. He flinches and makes this annoyed clicking sound with his tongue.

Finally, with this dramatic sigh that you can feel rumble through his chest, he gives in. His body peels away from yours like it's physically painful for him to move.

"Fine, fine," he grumbles, surrendering to reality.

When he sits up, cold air rushes in where his body heat used to be. You both kind of... linger there on the edge of his bed.

You watch him rub his face, trying to wake up properly. It's kind of fascinating, seeing him switch from s̶o̶f̶t̶ sleepy Jungkook back to Jeon, the cold and distant Chief of Tactical.

Another yawn catches you as you sit up, letting the sheets pool around your waist. You blink, trying to clear the sleep from your eyes, when something on Jeon's bedside table catches your attention.

Oh.

There's a whole fucking pharmacy there.

Your eyes scan over the labels—hypnotics, sedatives, tranquilizers, sleeping pills. The kind of cocktail someone needs when sleep doesn't come naturally anymore.

It hits different now, remembering all those times you've seen him in the cafeteria at ass o'clock in the morning. Always with that black coffee, those dark circles under his eyes that you thought were just part of his whole intimidating Chief of Tactical thing.

(Turns out even the great Jeon Jungkook has trouble sleeping.)

You can't help but wonder what keeps him up at night. What kind of memories play on repeat in his head when everything goes quiet.

Sure, being a gang leader comes with its own baggage—the violence, the paranoia, always having to watch your back.

But something tells you there's more to it. Things that left marks deeper than the little scar on his cheek. The kind of stuff that makes someone stock up on enough sedatives to knock out a horse.

Your eyes fix on this one bottle of hypnotics that's already half empty. Something in your chest tightens at the sight, but you quickly squash that feeling down.

The last thing Jeon needs is your p̶i̶t̶y̶ concern.

You know how this works. Show any weakness in Kkangpae, and you might as well paint a target on your back. The gang's full of sharks, always circling, always waiting for someone to bleed in the water.

So you bite back all the questions building up in your throat. Push down that weird urge to reach out, to try and make it better somehow.

Whatever demons Jeon's fighting, they're his to deal with.

You've got your own role to play here, and playing therapist isn't it. Some things just stay broken, and some nights just stay sleepless.

And some things are not yours to fix, even if some part of you wants to.

"You ready?" Jeon asks, already heading for the door without waiting to hear if you actually are.

You follow him out with a quiet sigh, but your mind's still stuck on all those pill bottles.

On what they might mean.

On all the nights he probably spends staring at his ceiling, fighting whatever demons keep him up.

The common areas in his wing of the Assassination Division are empty this early.

Your footsteps echo through the halls as you make your way to the elevator, where Jeon leans against the wall like he's got all day. He crosses his arms over his chest, getting lost in whatever thoughts are running through that complicated head of his.

When he doesn't move to actually do anything, you have to remind him that not everyone has his fancy Chief clearance level.

"You gonna scan your card or what?" You wave vaguely at the scanner. "You know mine won't work up here."

The corner of his mouth twitches up—just barely—like he's annoyed at himself for forgetting.

He pulls out his access card without a word and taps it against the scanner. The light blinks green, and the elevator starts moving.

While you're waiting, your brain decides to dig up this random memory from weeks ago.

That night Jeon showed up at your door out of nowhere, demanding his jacket back. You hadn't thought about it then, but now...

"Hey," you turn to look at him, "how did you get on my floor that night? To get your jacket back?" The question hits you out of nowhere. "Our cards don't work on each other's floors."

His eyes go wide for a split second—clearly not expecting that question. He just stares at you for a moment, lips parted like he's trying to figure out what to say. Then his gaze darts away and he rubs the back of his neck, which is basically a flashing neon sign that says busted.

(This should be interesting.)

"I, uh..." Jeon starts, looking at you then quickly away. He's actually struggling for words, which is new.

His fingers tap against his thigh in this nervous rhythm you've never seen before. Just when you think he's going to leave you hanging, he lets out this tiny sigh, shoulders dropping just a bit.

"I asked AD for temporary access."

Wait. What?

"And he... just gave it to you? Just like that?"

You narrow your eyes because something's not adding up here.

You've seen how these two interact—or don't interact, more like it. The way Jeon basically disappears whenever AD shows up, and how AD looks at him like he's personally offended his entire bloodline.

Sure, AD glares at everyone (especially J-Hope), but with Jeon? That's a whole different level of hate.

(Not that it's any of your business what's going on there.)

"Told him I needed my jacket back."

The elevator keeps moving down, and the silence between you gets kind of heavy. Something about how weirdly hesitant Jeon's being makes your curiosity spike. Part of you knows you should probably drop it, but...

"So, your card worked the whole night?" You try to sound casual about it, but there's definitely some skepticism bleeding through.

"Yeah." He finally meets your eyes again. "Clearance passes usually last for 24 hours."

You nod slowly, filing that information away.

"But didn't AD find it weird? The time stamp would show you came in at 3 AM and didn't leave until..." You trail off, remembering exactly why he stayed so long.

Jeon's eyes snap to yours, and something flashes across his face too quick to read before he looks away. The crease between his brows gets deeper as the silence stretches out.

"I don't think he actually checks the access logs that closely," he says finally. "At least he hasn't mentioned anything about the, uh, timeframe."

You think about that for a second. It seems weird that AD, of all people, wouldn't keep tabs on security access. But maybe Jeon's right—maybe AD doesn't actually monitor that stuff.

Then you remember something.

That day after the pool training, you saw AD in the elevator with Kazuha. He'd told you both to "be careful."

Was that his cryptic way of saying he knew exactly what went down that night?

The elevator dings, cutting through your thoughts.

Jeon pushes off the wall, giving you this little nod to go in first. You step inside, and the last thing you see is his back and this lazy wave goodbye before the doors slide shut.

Anyway, something tells you AD knows way more than he lets on.

You’d never been in The Council room until now.

And it’s… Well, it’s weird. Tense today.

Everyone's taking their usual spots around this stupidly long table, and RM's at the head of it like always, looking every bit the Supreme Commander he is.

"Thanks for coming, everyone." His voice carries that authority that makes even the most stubborn chiefs shut up and listen.

Well, almost everyone.

"I don't even see why I have to be here when you're all so set on leaving me out of it." V's practically radiating annoyance.

Moon gives him that patient look he reserves for when someone's being difficult. "This mission affects the entire gang. That's why we need the whole Council present."

"But I'm not even part of it." V throws his feet up on the table like the dramatic bitch he is, crossing his arms. "So why do I have to sit through all this bullshit?"

"You listen because shared knowledge makes us stronger." RM's eyes sweep around the table, meeting everyone's gaze—even yours. "Unity isn't just about standing together. It's about thinking as one."

V rolls his eyes so hard you're surprised they don't get stuck. "Yeah, yeah, I get the whole 'one gang' thing. But do I really need every fucking detail?"

"Details matter." Jeon's voice cuts through the tension. "MDF isn't some amateur operation. One tiny blind spot and we're fucked."

"It's a goddamn snake pit we're walking into." J-Hope waves his hands around like he's trying to grab invisible dangers out of the air. "We all need to know what kind of poison we might be dealing with."

JM leans forward, all serious despite his usually gentle demeanor. "That hideout's a maze. You two need more than just a way in—you need a solid plan to get the fuck out of there."

"Exactly." RM's sighs. "This intel could change everything. We do this right, we take out one of their major operations."

Flower, who's been watching everything with that calculating look of hers, finally speaks up. "And V, whether you like it or not, this meeting is what keeps your men at the docks from getting caught with their pants down while we're focused on this mission."

V scoffs, but you can see him actually considering her words.

Jessi stops lounging in her chair like this is some kind of casual meetup.

"Alright, cut the bullshit. What's the actual plan here, RM?" She leans forward, all business now. "And it better be good."

The room goes quiet—that heavy kind of quiet that makes your skin prickle.

RM stands up, and you can feel the weight of what's coming.

This isn't just another mission briefing. This is you and Jeon walking straight into MDF territory.

No pressure.

RM clears his throat, looking down at the stack of papers in front of him.

"Here's how it's going to work," he starts, voice authoritative. "Jeon and Y/N are going undercover. We've got IDs that'll get them through MDF's front door."

The word 'undercover' makes your stomach do this weird flip thing. Jeon shifts slightly beside you, his presence weirdly reassuring for someone who's usually about as comforting as a loaded gun.

"They'll play it as traders," RM continues, spreading out this map that looks like someone went crazy with a red marker. "Fresh faces trying to make it big enough to catch MDF's attention."

Jeon nods, watching AD's finger trace some path on the map. "What about their security? Cameras?"

"System loops every three hours," AD says, sounding bored but you know that's just his thing. "We're setting up a distraction. At 23:00, when the loop starts, they'll get a power surge. Six minutes of blind spots."

"Six minutes?" Jessi raises an eyebrow. "That's cutting it real fucking close."

"We can handle it." Jeon sounds so sure it actually makes you believe him. "Had worse timeframes before."

"That's your window to find the server room and plant the bug." RM points to some spot deep in what looks like a maze. "AD will be in your ear the whole time."

"And when shit inevitably goes sideways?" V asks, and despite how pissy he's been about being left out, you can hear actual braincells there.

"You'll be armed," RM says simply. "But this is about getting in and out quiet. No firefights."

"Right, because stealth missions should totally go to Mr. Shoot-Everything-From-A-Mile-Away instead of, oh, I don't know, the actual Chief of Stealth?" V's voice drips sarcasm.

"V." JM's cuts in. "Enough."

V grunts but actually shuts up, which is kind of impressive. You've never seen anyone else get him to back down that easily.

Flower leans forward, and the room suddenly feels a bit colder. The map spread out on the table looks like some kind of twisted treasure map, except instead of X marking the spot, there's about fifty different ways this whole thing could go wrong.

"Alright, here's the deal," she says, getting straight to the point like always. "You need to be interesting enough to catch their attention, but not so interesting they get suspicious. Think you can handle that?"

She looks right at you, and you can feel the weight of what she's asking.

"Y/N, you're our front person here. While everyone's busy watching you sweet-talk them about money and deals, Jeon's gonna be doing the actual work." Her lips curve into this knowing smile. "Keep them focused on the profit. Rich assholes love talking about money."

Great. No pressure or anything. Just gotta be charming enough to distract an entire criminal organization while your... whatever Jeon is sneaks around their base. Easy peasy.

Flower turns to Jeon next, and her expression goes all business.

"You're playing backup dancer on this one. Stay in the background, watch everything, and when AD hits them with that power surge? That's your window. Get the bug planted without anyone noticing."

The room goes quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Everyone's thinking the same thing—one tiny mistake and this whole plan goes up in smoke.

"Remember," Flower says, voice serious, "this isn't about showing off. It's about getting in, getting it done, and getting out without anyone realizing what happened."

"And more importantly," RM cuts in, giving you and Jeon a look, "don't fucking die. The intel's not worth either of you."

"What about communication?" you ask, because there's one pretty big hole in this plan. "We can't exactly text each other in there."

"Subvocals," AD doesn't look up from his laptop, but his voice carries that bored confidence that means he knows exactly what he's talking about. "Basically fancy mics that pick up whispers. We'll hear everything, but you two can talk without anyone else noticing. Plus, we'll feed you intel as we get it. Just keep it quiet and you'll be fine."

V lets out this little laugh, eyes twinkling like he knows something no one else does. "Sure putting a lot of faith in luck here, aren't we?"

"Luck's got nothing to do with it." RM's interjects. "This is about being prepared, being skilled, and getting shit done. Don't forget who we are. What Kkangpae stands for."

The room goes quiet again. Then, he continues speaking:

"Once you get that bug planted and grab whatever intel you can, you get out. We're not starting a war. Not yet."

Then Jeon turns to look at you, all Chief-of-Tactical mode.

Stormy.

"We split up as soon as we're inside," he says, voice gone all hard and professional. "Cover more ground, draw less attention."

"Yeah, no." You don't even hesitate to shut that down. The plan's crystal clear in your head. "We stick together, follow the script. Only split when the power goes out. That's the signal."

He scoffs—actually scoffs—and crosses his arms. "You really think playing follow-the-leader's gonna work that long? We're wasting time the second we walk in. Better to improvise early."

"We're not there to improvise," you snap back, getting annoyed now. The air's starting to feel like a brewing thunderstorm. "We have a plan for a fucking reason, Jeon. The power surge is our cover. Until then, you're stuck with me."

His jaw does that tightening thing it does when someone challenges him.

Chief or not, you're not backing down on this.

"A package deal that screams 'we're obviously here to fuck shit up'." He's practically radiating frustration. "Splitting up makes more sense. It's tactical."

"It's reckless," you cut in, meeting his intensity head-on. "Since when do we pick 'making sense' over actually being smart about this? We split up before the power cut, and we're basically painting targets on our backs."

You can feel everyone in the room watching this verbal sparring match in slight disbelief.

"You're not fucking listening—" Jeon leans into your space.

"Because what you're saying is bullshit," you snap back, refusing to be intimidated even though he's practically looming over you. "We go in toge—"

"Too risky. We split up, maximize our—"

"—chances of getting our asses caught!" You talk right over him, blood rushing hot in your veins. "We stick to the fucking pla—"

"Which is basically asking to get pinched if we're joined at the hip," he fires back, and god, his voice shouldn't sound that hot when he's being this infuriating.

"Oh, and you think going rogue is the ans—"

"It's called thinking on your feet, sunshine. Maybe try it some—"

"Save the condescending shit," you cut in, sharp enough to draw blood. "We're not there to show—"

"—that we're fucking amateurs!" He's almost growling now, and the sound does things to you that you really don't want to examine.

Your voices keep rising, cutting each other off in this heated back-and-forth that's starting to feel less like an argument and more like foreplay.

"Enough." RM's voice drops like a bucket of cold water.

You and Jeon both shut up instantly, turning to face him like scolded kids.

The whole room goes dead quiet, everyone waiting to see how the Supreme Commander's going to handle this.

"Y/N's right," RM cuts in, voice carrying that don't-fuck-with-me tone whilst his eyes bounce between you and Jeon as he speaks. "We made this plan accounting for every possible fuck-up. You go in together, no improvising. The power surge is your cue. Until then, you're just a couple of traders looking to make a deal. We can't afford any slip-ups."

The way he says it leaves no room for argument. You can see Jeon's shoulders drop just a tiny bit, like he's accepting defeat but doesn't want to show it.

"Got it," you nod, trying to look all professional and shit.

Like you didn't just get into a verbal sparring match with your Chief in front of the whole Council.

Jeon takes a second, then gives this little nod that looks like it physically pains him.

"Understood," he echoes, finally looking at you.

And so there’s this weird moment where you're both just... staring at each other; as if calling a truce without actually saying anything.

As RM dismisses everyone, you feel that rush of adrenaline from arguing start to fade. Your shoulders relax, and you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding.

Right. This whole mission is riding on you and Jeon not fucking it up by going off-script.

You can feel Jeon next to you, his whole vibe changing. He's still got that unreadable expression, but he doesn't look ready to fight anymore.

Before you can make your grand exit, Jessi's voice cuts through the room, making both of you plant your feet on the ground.

"Don't worry, you two. All that sexual tension will make for some hot angry fucking after the mission." She winks at you both like she just said something clever instead of mortifying.

"That's not—we're not—" You start sputtering like an idiot, feeling your face go red.

"Ridiculous," Jeon snaps at the same time, scowling like Jessi just insulted his sniper skills or something.

Jessi just smirks, looking way too pleased with herself. "Whatever you say, lovebirds. Just come by my division after lunch. Gotta get you kitted out for this little adventure."

You open your mouth to tell her exactly where she can shove her assumptions, but she keeps talking.

"AD's gonna set up your access, so don't be late!" And with that, she struts out of the room like she owns the place.

You take a deep breath, trying to get your shit together.

Without a word, you and Jeon turn to leave.

There's still a ton of prep to do for this mission, and you'd rather face MDF unarmed than spend another second in this room with everyone's eyes on you.

The elevator feels way too empty when it’s only you and Jeon in it.

Trapped in a metal box after whatever that disaster of a Council meeting was.

The silence feels heavy, like all that heated arguing is still buzzing in the air.

You stand there trying to look casual, watching the floor numbers tick down like they're the most interesting thing you've ever seen.

But you can't help noticing how Jeon's jaw is doing that clenching thing again, his lips pressed together so tight they're practically disappearing. His hands are shoved deep in his pockets, and his whole body's radiating tension like a coiled spring.

The silence is driving you insane.

So of course, before your brain can stop your mouth, you blurt out: "Just so we're clear, we are not having hot angry sex after this mission."

Great going girl. 10/10.

Jeon's head snaps toward you so fast you're worried he might get whiplash. One eyebrow shoots up in surprise, but then—oh—his expression shifts into that infuriating smirk.

"Aw, you sound disappointed," he says, voice dropping into that low, teasing register that definitely doesn't make your stomach flip.

You scoff, rolling your eyes as dramatically as possible. "Yeah, like I was last night."

"Excuse me?" The look of pure indignation on his face is actually priceless. "Pretty sure I had you begging."

"Begging?" You let out a laugh. "More like pointing out how fucking slow you were being."

You're going for casual disinterest, but the memories from last night keep trying to make your face heat up.

He actually laughs at that—this sharp, sudden sound that bounces off the elevator walls.

"Oh, is that what we're calling it now? Because I remember it more like... payback. For all that teasing." His eyes drop to your ass for a second. "Bending over until I couldn't take it anymore..."

You cross your arms, leaning back against the wall like this conversation isn't affecting you at all.

"That wasn't teasing. That was strategic mission preparation." You can't help the sly smile that creeps onto your face. "Besides, you're the one who changed the sleeping arrangement to fucking."

"A strategic move, huh?" His mouth does that little twitch that means he's trying not to smile. "Well, it fucking worked."

"Yeah, you broke so easily." You roll your eyes, but you can feel yourself starting to smile too. "Just for sex"

"Pretty damn good sex, if I might add." He says it like he's stating the weather, but that smirk is getting bigger.

Before you can even process what's happening, his hand shoots out to the elevator panel. The emergency stop button makes this loud clicking sound, and the whole thing jerks to a halt with this deep rumble that you feel in your bones.

Suddenly the space feels way too small, and all you can hear is your own breathing getting heavier.

Yeah. Yeah, he’s stopped the fucking elevator.

"What the actual fuck, Jeon?" You try to sound annoyed, but the words get stuck in your throat because he's moving into your space like he owns it, like he has every right to be this close.

Then you're trapped between his arms and the cold elevator wall, and fuck—the way he's looking at you makes you feel naked already.

Your heart's going crazy in your chest, completely betraying how irritated you're pretending to be. Heat starts pooling between your legs, and it's honestly embarrassing how quickly your body responds to him.

"We can't—" Your voice comes out all breathy and pathetic. "We can't do this here."

The smile he gives you is pure sin as he leans in closer, close enough that you can feel his breath on your skin, static wrapping around you, making it hard to think straight.

"Why not?"

"Because we're in a fucking elevator—"

"No cameras." He cuts you off like he's been waiting for this excuse.

You try to swallow but your throat's gone dry. Your sling feels itchy against your skin, probably because your whole body's remembering what happened last night.

"People are gonna notice if the elevator's stuck—"

"Maintenance issue." He says it so fast you know he's thought about this before.

"Jeon—" You start to argue, but then his eyes drop to your mouth and your brain just... stops working.

You know you should push him away. That's what any sane person would do. But there's something about Jeon that makes your brain stop working right—like a magnet pulling you in no matter how hard you try to resist. Every cell in your body is screaming at you to just grab him and kiss him already.

Right when you're about to say fuck it and give in, he pulls back.

And the look in his eyes? Pure evil, like he knows exactly what he's doing to you.

"Sunshine," he practically purrs, voice gone all low and rough in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach, "you're too eager."

The elevator dings, saving you from doing something stupid.

He steps out onto his floor without another word, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face like he just won something.

You slump against the wall the second the doors close, letting out this huge breath you didn't even realize you were holding

As the elevator keeps moving, the whole thing feels kind of surreal—like maybe you imagined him pressing you up against the wall and looking at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

But the way your skin's still tingling tells you it definitely happened.

When the doors open on your floor, it's like stepping back into the real world.

One where you need to figure out what the hell to tell Yunjin about where you've been all night. She's way too perceptive for her own good, and she definitely noticed you didn't come to your room to sleep.

You walk to your room trying to come up with something believable.

Maybe you were up all night studying mission plans? Or got restless and went wandering around the common areas?

Your brain's still kind of fuzzy from having Jeon all up in your space, which isn't helping with the whole creative lying thing.

But when you push open your door, Yunjin spins around like she's been caught doing something wrong. Her eyes are all wide and guilty, and before you can even open your mouth to make up some excuse about where you've been, she starts talking.

"Okay, before you give me shit for not sleeping here last night—" The words come tumbling out of her like she can't get them out fast enough. "You won't believe what happened. I was just gonna have a few drinks with V, you know, just to chill..."

Well. You surely didn't expect that.

You stand there trying to process the flood of information Yunjin's dumping on you. She's so caught up in her story she doesn't even notice your brain short-circuiting.

"And I know we said to stay away from V's whole... thing, but fuck—" She's practically vibrating with excitement. "We've been dancing around each other for weeks, and last night was just—"

"Yunjin, hold up." You raise a hand to stop her word-vomit. "Are you telling me you spent the night with V? Like, you and V actually—"

You don't finish the sentence because honestly, you don't need to. The implication is heavy enough to sink a ship.

She bites her lip and nods, looking somewhere between guilty and smug.

"Yeah, we fucked..." Her voice trails off before picking right back up. "And let me tell you, it was good. Like, he's not even into all that scary shit everyone thinks he is? But his chaotic energy definitely carries over to bed, god, if you only knew—"

You can't help the snort spreading across your face.

Here you were worrying about how to explain your own night away, and Yunjin's gone and done the exact same thing.

There's something kind of poetic about both of you getting tangled up with people you definitely shouldn't be touching.

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. "Okay, spare me the details. But I'm glad you had fun with your psychopath."

"It was actually really nice?" She's got this dreamy look that would be cute if she wasn't talking about the gang's resident knife enthusiast. "I know we said getting involved with him was a bad idea, but..."

She shrugs, looking almost shy.

"Sometimes you can't help who you want to climb like a tree."

You nod because fuck—isn't that the truth? Your body's still kind of sore from climbing your own dangerous tree last night.

Quick thinking has you saying, "I had an early Council meeting about the mission."

It's not exactly a lie. You did have a meeting. The fact that you came straight from Jeon's bed to it is just... details.

Yunjin seems to buy it, but then her eyes narrow and this little smirk appears on her face.

"Speaking of details... that shirt looks a bit big on you." She eyes the obviously oversized fabric. "Almost like it belongs to someone else. Someone tall, maybe? Tattooed?"

Heat creeps up your neck as you tug at the shirt that definitely belongs to Jeon.

"It's just comfortable," you mutter, but even you don't believe that weak excuse.

"Sure it is." Yunjin's laugh is rather a sneer. "Tell Jeon I said hi."

She throws you a wink and you roll your eyes, but you can't quite fight the smile tugging at your lips.

At least you're not the only one fucking a chief.

The scanner actually flashes green when you swipe your card, which is weird.

Usually you only get access to the Seduction floor and common areas, but apparently Jessi wasn't kidding about AD setting up clearance to her realm for you.

You hit the button for the 9th floor and watch the numbers tick up.

The doors slide open to a completely different vibe from what you're used to.

Gone is all that minimalist tech stuff from AD's floor or the sterile efficiency of Assassination.

The Weapons Division looks exactly like what it is—a place that deals in death. The lights are dim, pipes running everywhere like exposed veins, and the floor's just straight-up concrete. No fancy finishes here.

You've maybe been here like, three times? And every visit feels like stepping into some alternate universe inside Kkangpae's castle. The contrast between this and your division's sleek aesthetic is wild.

"Well, well, look who we have here!"

The voice booms through the hallway, making you jump.

You turn to find this huge guy with a green mullet heading your way, covered in neck tattoos that probably tell some interesting stories. You're pretty sure his name is Jae? He's Jessi's second-in-command, but you've barely exchanged two words with him before.

Not that you'd know it from how he grins at you like you're old friends.

"Jessi's waiting on you," he says, slapping your back hard enough to make you stumble forward. (What is it with these Weapons Division people and casual violence?) "Come on, can't keep the boss lady hanging."

You follow Mullet Man through these massive double doors and holy shit—the weapons depot is huge. The ceiling's so high it's got actual walkways crisscrossing it, leading to what looks like storage units. Every table is packed with enough firepower to start a small war: rifles, handguns, knives, stuff you don't even have names for.

Jessi's off to one side, checking out this fancy-looking automatic rifle like she's shopping for groceries. Her fiery aura fills the space with heating energy.

When she spots you, those red lips curl into this knowing smirk that makes you kind of nervous.

"Right on time," she says, putting down the gun like it's no big deal. "Now we just gotta wait for lover boy to complete the set."

Jae throws up this exaggerated salute and swaggers off, leaving you perched on a nearby stool while Jessi's aura dances around like actual flames.

Jessi leans back against one of the weapon-covered tables, arms crossed and this knowing look in her eyes that makes you kind of nervous.

"That was quite the show this morning. Never seen Jeon actually engage like that before."

"What do you mean?" You frown, thinking about how often Jeon and V are at each other's throats. "He fights with V all the time."

"Nah, that's different." She shakes her head, red hair swaying. "When he fights with V, it's all explosions and death threats. Pure chaos."

Her hands make this exaggerated boom motion.

"But this morning? That was like... verbal foreplay. He was actually in there with you, giving as good as he got."

You think about that for a second.

Now that she mentions it, Jeon does usually just... shut down when other people try to argue with him. Goes all cold and distant, like he can't be bothered to even engage.

But this morning he was right there with you, matching your energy blow for blow.

"Huh." The realization hits you harder than it probably should. "He's not usually much for back-and-forth, is he?"

"That's what I'm saying!" Jessi looks way too pleased with herself. "That emotionally constipated asshole usually keeps everyone at a distance. But you?" She wiggles her eyebrows in this ridiculous way. "Something's different..."

Your face heats up because fuck—she's not wrong. But you are absolutely not having this conversation right now.

"So anyway," you say quickly, probably not as smooth as you think, "what kind of gear are we talking about here?"

Jessi's smirk says she knows exactly what you're doing, but she lets it slide.

Instead, she turns to this impressive spread of weapons and gadgets laid out on the table. Some of them look deadly enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

"Only the best for our star infiltration team," she says, sounding like a proud mom showing off her kid's artwork. "Let's talk comm units first..."

Then, you catch it.

That woodsy, pine scent that clings to him like his leather jacket.

You don’t even need to turn around to know it’s him.

Jeon appears in the doorway looking unfairly good in his all-black everything, like some kind of high-fashion assassin.

When his eyes find you and Jessi, one eyebrow goes up.

"Starting without me?" His voice is dry as desert.

"Look who finally decided to show up." Jessi's teasing, but then her expression turns into something more devious. "I was just telling your partner here how I've never seen you get so fired up before. Something about her really pushes your buttons, huh?"

You kind of want to melt into the concrete floor. Leave it to Jessi to stir shit up just because she can.

But Jeon just shrugs, cool as ever.

"Just discussing strategy." His voice gives absolutely nothing away, which is honestly impressive considering how heated he got earlier.

Jessi looks kind of disappointed that she couldn't get a reaction out of him. Classic Jeon, refusing to take the bait. She lets out this dramatic sigh and turns back to all the gear spread out on the table.

"Well, now that his highness has graced us with his presence," she says, standing up with that natural grace she has, "let's get you both looking the part. Can't have you walking into MDF territory looking like gang members, can we?"

You follow her through the rows of weapons and equipment. It's kind of amazing how she knows exactly where everything is in this massive space. Her energy is contagious—she's clearly in her element here, surrounded by all these tools of destruction.

The weapons depot starts feeling less like an armory and more like some underground fashion studio as you walk deeper in.

Because of course, procurement doesn’t only mean weapons and human resource.

Apparently, it also means Jessi has a pass to turn a room full of deadly weapons into her personal styling space.

There's this sectioned-off area that looks like a makeshift dressing room, complete with different fabrics hanging everywhere.

"Over here, Jeon." Jessi's voice has that tone that means she's already planning something. She looks him up and down like she's mentally redesigning his whole outfit.

Jeon follows her, trying to look like he's not into it, but you can see the interest in his eyes. You hang back a bit, kind of enjoying watching him get the Jessi treatment.

Jessi starts pulling stuff from these racks that look like someone couldn't decide if they were making tactical gear or runway fashion. Every piece somehow manages to be both bulletproof and stupidly stylish.

First up for Jeon: this black suit that catches the light in a way that's definitely not standard issue.

"Put this on," she tells him, shoving the suit in his hands. "It's reinforced—won't stop a bullet, but a knife won't get through."

He disappears behind this makeshift changing screen, and you're definitely not counting the seconds until he comes back out.

When he does, though... fuck.

The suit fits him like it was painted on, showing off all those muscles you're way too familiar with now. The jacket makes his shoulders look even broader, and the pants are doing criminal things to his legs. He looks like he walked straight out of some high-end assassin movie.

"You could probably kill someone just by walking into a room looking like that," you say before you can stop yourself. Your voice definitely doesn't sound as casual as you meant it to.

The smug bastard actually smirks at that. "Wouldn't be the first time."

But Jessi's not having it. She shakes her head, looking at him like an artist who's not quite happy with their work.

"Too polished. We need dangerous, not James Bond. Try this instead."

She pulls out this whole new look: leather jacket that probably costs more than anything you own (which is not much), deep maroon shirt that's somehow both simple and expensive-looking, and black jeans that you just know are going to be trouble.

When he steps out this time, his whole aura shifts.

The leather sits on his shoulders like it belongs there, and that hint of maroon under all the black just... works.

He looks like someone who could sweet-talk his way into a deal and then burn the whole place down if it goes wrong.

"Now that's more like it," Jessi says, looking satisfied. "Says 'I do business, but I also do crime' in all the right ways."

You find yourself nodding along because damn.

He looks exactly like what a high-level arms dealer should look—dangerous enough to take seriously, stylish enough to have clearly made money doing it.

Jeon catches you staring and raises an eyebrow, like he's asking what you think. You give him a small nod because what else can you do? He looks f̶u̶c̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶h̶o̶t̶ good.

Really good.

Jessi rummages through another rack and pulls out this long-sleeved black shirt.

"Here, put this under the jacket. The fabric's breathable but bulletproof-adjacent. Won't stop a direct hit, but it'll give you a fighting chance."

Jeon shrugs off the leather jacket and slips the shirt on. It's thin but looks sturdy—perfect for someone who might need to move fast or fight their way out of trouble.

Jessi finally steps back, eyeing him like she's inspecting a weapon.

"Not bad. Looks casual enough that no one'll think twice, but you can actually move in it." She hands him back the leather jacket. "Try it all together."

You try to look professional while he puts the jacket back on over the maroon shirt and black base layer, but fuck—the whole ensemble is perfect.

The layers somehow make him look even more dangerous, like he could either charm you or kill you and you wouldn't know which until it was too late.

While Jeon and Jessi get into some deep discussion about fabric weights and mobility ranges, you're kind of amazed at how much thought goes into this.

It's not just picking out nice clothes—every piece has to tell the right story without saying a word.

One wrong detail and the whole cover's blown.

The attention to detail is actually impressive. Jessi knows exactly how to make someone look dangerous but approachable, wealthy but not flashy.

In this world, the wrong outfit can get you killed as quick as the wrong word.

You watch them fine-tune every detail, fascinated by how each adjustment shapes the character Jeon's going to play. And then… The final touch.This plain black watch that probably has fifteen different ways to kill someone. Jeon checks it over with that focused look he gets when he's handling weapons.

"Nice," is all he says, strapping it on.

Standing there in his perfectly crafted outfit, Jeon looks like he was born to play this role. Then Jessi turns to you with this wicked gleam in her eyes that makes your stomach drop.

"Your turn, beautiful," she says, gesturing at another rack of clothes. "Let's make you look expensive but deadly."

Something tells you this is going to be way more complicated than just picking out a nice dress.

You step forward to check out what Jessi's picked out, and damn—she really knows what she's doing. Every piece looks like it was chosen to tell a specific story about who you're supposed to be for this mission.

First up is this skin-tight dress that practically screams ‘honey trap.’ Jessi takes one look and tosses it aside with a muttered "too fucking obvious."

Then there's this whole secretary fantasy thing with a high-necked blouse and pencil skirt, but that gets vetoed too. ("Can't fight for shit in that.")

Then she hands you this black button-up that feels expensive as hell, paired with these tailored pants that feel way too nice to the touch. The fabric's got that perfect balance—soft enough to feel good but sturdy enough to take a beating if things go south.

When you slip into it, something shifts. The shirt fits in all the right places, making you feel d̶a̶n̶g̶e̶r̶o̶u̶s̶ powerful. And the pants? They let you move like you might need to throw down at any second, which, considering it's MDF territory you're heading into, isn't exactly unlikely.

You step out to get Jessi's opinion.

And catch Jeon straight-up staring at your ass.

You’re not surprised.

When you meet his eyes, he looks away so fast it's actually kind of funny, pressing his lips together like he's trying not to smile. He looks like a kid who just got caught stealing cookies, and something about that expression makes you bite back a smile of your own.

"Now that's what I'm talking about," Jessi says, looking you over with that critical eye of hers. "You look like someone who could either make a deal or break some kneecaps. Perfect."

The outfit's actually making you feel kind of invincible. (The fact that it got Mr. Perfect Sniper all flustered doesn't hurt either.) You do a little turn, testing how it moves. Everything feels right—professional enough to be taken seriously, but with enough edge to remind people you're not someone to fuck with.

"Hold up," Jessi says suddenly, her eyes getting that dangerous glint that usually means trouble. "Got one more thing. Don't move."

She strides off into her weapons paradise, leaving you standing there wondering what else she could possibly have planned.

You definitely don't check if Jeon's still watching.

(Okay, that's a lie. You totally do.)

The button-up fits you like it was made for you—professional enough to command respect but with just enough something to make heads turn. You're fiddling with the collar when you notice it's buttoned kind of low. Like, maybe too low for a serious arms deal. But before you can decide whether to fix it, Jeon's suddenly right there in your space.

"Let me," he says, voice gone all low and rough (molten lava in your stomach)

His fingers brush against your skin as he does up that one button over your chest, and fuck—that tiny touch has your brain stuttering a bit.

Probably because your body remembers what those fingers can do.

When you look up at him (because of course he's using his height to loom over you like the smug bastard he is), his eyes are dark enough to drown in.

The little gleam swimming in them tells you he knows exactly what he's doing.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" you say, trying to sound annoyed even though you can feel yourself starting to smile.

"Immensely." He says; and his voice is pure sin wrapped in amusement.

He just keeps staring at you with this intensity that makes it hard to breathe, like he's thinking about all the ways he could mess up your perfectly put-together outfit.

Then Jessi bursts back in, completely ruining the moment.

"Found it!" She's waving around this black blazer like she just discovered buried treasure.

Jeon steps back, but not before giving you one last look that promises later. That little smirk is still playing on his lips as Jessi throws the blazer over your shoulders like she's putting the final touch on a masterpiece.

While Jessi goes over the tech specs of your gear, you sneak another look at Jeon. That heated playfulness from earlier is gone, replaced by that laser-focused look he gets when he's in Chief mode.

But there's still this... tension hanging in the air between you, like neither of you has quite forgotten what almost happened in that elevator.

Jessi then looks you both up and down with this satisfied smirk, like an artist admiring her masterpiece.

You have to admit, she knows what she's doing—the outfits are perfect for your cover, walking that line between dangerous and professional.

"Now for the fun part," she says, suddenly all business. "Let's get you two properly armed."

She leads you deeper into her weapons paradise, stopping at what looks like a plain wall. But when she presses her hand against this hidden scanner, the whole thing comes alive with soft beeps and whirs. A keypad appears, and Jessi punches in some code faster than you can follow.

The wall basically transforms, splitting open to reveal these massive hidden cabinets that look straight out of a spy movie.

Inside is enough firepower to start (or end) a small war, all arranged with the kind of precision that would make Jeon proud.

You've seen weapons before—kind of comes with the whole gang thing—but this is different.

Every gun, knife, and thing-you-don't-even-have-a-name-for gleams under the lights like they're on display in some very deadly museum.

"For when things get up close and personal," Jessi says, picking up this compact black handgun, "you'll want this beauty."

She hands you a Glock 26, and fuck—it's heavier than it looks.

"Small enough to hide, big enough to make someone regret their life choices."

Then she turns to Jeon with a different gun. "You get the Sig P226. More range, more punch. You can hang back and give her cover while she works her magic up close."

Jeon takes the gun and with a flick of his wrist, he expertly checks the chamber and magazine. You can't understand why your brain thinks that's hot, but the little nod he gives tells you Jessi picked right.

She keeps pulling out more gear—silencers that look way too professional, extra magazines, these holsters that probably cost more than your monthly pay. Then come the knives, small enough to hide pretty much anywhere but sharp enough to make you nervous just looking at them.

Jessi's whole vibe changes as she finishes arming you up. "These aren't just fancy accessories. Every time you pull one of these, you're making a choice that could end someone—maybe even yourself."

The weight of what she's saying hits different when you're actually holding deadly weapons. Her eyes lock onto yours, and you can tell she's trusting you not to fuck this up.

"One more thing," she says, pulling this fancy-looking gadget from a drawer. "Multi-tool kit. Has everything from basic lock picks to a mini torch. Trust me, you'll want options when shit hits the fan."

She hands it to Jeon, who clips it to his belt with practiced ease. (Of course he knows exactly what to do with it—guy probably has a whole collection of spy gear at home.)

Jessi takes a step back, giving you both this final once-over that feels kind of like a proud mom sending her kids off to prom.

(If prom involved infiltrating a rival gang's hideout.)

"You're good to go. Just remember—get in, do the job, get out. Don't try to be heroes."

Her words stick with you as you follow her out of the weapons room.

You walk through another set of doors to find a…

Holy shit. The garage is massive.

It's like walking into some billionaire's private car collection, except every vehicle probably has hidden gun compartments or something.

So Jessi's definitely got a thing for cars. There's everything from flashy Lamborghinis to those huge Bentleys that scream ‘I’m rich and probably dangerous.’ Motorcycles, sports cars, even some vehicles that look straight-up bulletproof—all lined up like some very deadly candy shop.

You're starting to think maybe the weapons aren't even Jessi's favorite toys.

Jessi leads you through her collection of cars like a proud mom showing off her kids' trophies. She stops at this black Lamborghini that looks expensive enough to make your eyes water. The lights bounce off its surface like it's made of pure money.

"This baby right here?" She runs her hand over the hood like she's petting a cat. "Zero to sixty in 2.8 seconds. Makes people's heads turn so fast they get whiplash."

Then she drags you over to this Bentley that screams old money.

"And this beauty? When you need people to think you've got more dollars than sense." The inside looks like someone skinned a whole herd of very expensive cows and covered it in fancy wood.

"We're taking my bike."

Jeon's voice cuts through Jessi's car tour sharply.

He says it like it's already decided, which—knowing him—it probably is.

Jessi whips around to look at him, and fuck—her fiery aura actually flares up like she's about to burst into flames.

"Are you kidding me? Look at these beauties!" She waves at her collection. "They're begging for some action!"

But Jeon just shakes his head. "Bike's more maneuverable. Better control. Makes more sense for what we need."

"Ugh, fine." Jessi throws one last longing look at the Lamborghini like she's saying goodbye to a child. "But I swear to god, one of these days I'm getting your ass in one of these cars."

The little smirk Jeon gives her actually looks kind of fond. "Keep dreaming."

So you follow him to another part of the garage where his bike's parked.

It's this sleek, black monster of a machine that somehow manages to look both subtle and dangerous—kind of like its owner. The thing practically radiates power, but in that quiet way that says it doesn't need to show off.

Jessi watches Jeon check over the bike with this resigned look.

He runs his hands over the handlebars, checking everything with the kind of attention to detail you'd expect from someone who regularly makes impossible shots from a mile away.

"At least you take care of my presents," she mutters, but there's no real heat in it.

Jeon just nods, swinging his leg over the bike like he was born to ride it. When he turns to look at you, his face has gone all serious again.

"You good?"

You nod, feeling your heart start picking up speed.

This is really happening.

Jessi steps back, smiles, and then just waves you two off, not before adding something else.

"Watch your asses out there. And remember—you need backup, we're just a call away."

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[genshingorlsrevengeance]

hello! I have a request for yae, Ayaka, and any other genshin girls you feel like adding

Them with a s/o who's waking up from surgery (or some other such operation), still on painkillers, high off their fucking mind, and they just keep stating at them like 🤨 cuz they're not lucid enough to figure out where they are or who the person besides them is.

(Genshin Impact) Their S/O waking up while still being loopy

Miko, Ayaka, Chiori, Clorinde, Dehya, Eula, Navia, Rosaria, Sara, Shenhe, Sucrose, Xianyun, Xinyan, Yoimiya

I haven't written for Genshin in what I feel is a while, so congrats anon! You have scored the Ask lottery by getting 14 genshin gals! Enjoy!

Miko is honestly trying so hard not to burst into laughter seeing S/O's confused expression.

The way their eyes were half-lidded, mouth slightly open, knowing the moment they opened their mouth the question would be:

(S/O) "Who are you...?"

Miko clears her throat, but the smile doesn't go away, not one bit.

(Miko) "Oh, don't mind me! I'm a friend of Guuji Yae, your girlfriend! I'm here to pick you up."

(S/O) "Huh...you have the same smirk as her."

(Miko) snrk!

(S/O) "...Same mischievous laugh too..."

Though the injury they sustained was unfortunate, the reaction was hilarious!...Well, assuming that the medicine they used just made them a little woozy instead of deleting their memory.

Ayaka is more concerned than anything at S/O's reaction.

(Ayaka) "Are you alright?"

(S/O) "U-Uh...yes ma'am."

(Ayaka) "Ma'am?-"

(S/O) "Sorry, is miss Kamisato around here? I think she was waiting outside."

(Ayaka) "I'm right here though?"

S/O had to squint their eyes, as if not believing her. She moved closer, but S/O adjusted to keep the respectful distance.

She'd be flattered that even in such a state they took their relationship so seriously, but now she began to pout.

(Ayaka) "I am Ayaka, S/O!"

(Chiori) "Hey, you still in there?"

(S/O) "Ugh, my head...Doctor, am I well?"

(Chiori) "Oh you've gotta be kidding me."

After muttering to herself, Chiori sighed and crossed her arms.

(Chiori) "The doctors told me you were fine. I'm picking you up now."

(S/O) "Hm...you sound a lot like Chiori."

(Chiori) "Because I am her."

After seeing S/O squint their eyes in disbelief, Chiori rolled her eyes and moved closer.

(Chiori) "See?"

(S/O) "...Oh hey honey. Only you have those really pretty angry eyes."

(Chiori) "Psh, some compliment that is."

Clorinde breathes a sigh of relief when she sees S/O wake up.

(Clorinde) "How are you feeling, S/O?"

(S/O) "I feel a little lighthearted, ma'am."

Ma'am? That was new-...Wait.-

(Clorinde) "Do you know where you are?"

(S/O) "I...think a hospital in Fontaine...? Or was it the outskirts?"

(Clorinde) "Just how much medicine did they use on you...?"

(S/O) "Oh! Can you please tell Clorinde I'm okay?"

Clorinde opened her mouth to protest before she sighed, adjusting her hat and smiling ever so slightly.

(Clorinde) "I'll be sure to do that."

She promptly walked out of the room, then instantly spun on her heel and entered the room.

(S/O) "Clorinde!"

(Clorinde) "...Hello, dear."

Dehya had some kind of painkiller, though it was a bit unorthodox. She had heard Cactus Juice was a great way to quench your thirst, but the side effects-

(S/O) "GIANT MUSHROOM! GIANT MUSHY FRIIEEEEEEEND!-"

(Dehya) "...Okay, note to self, don't drink this stuff when hurt."

Dehya felt her armored wrist dragged by S/O, pointing at the mushroom that was hopping toward them-

UH OH.

(Dehya) "S/O, GET BACK!"

(S/O) "WAIT, PRETTY LADY THAT LOOKS LIKE MY GIRLFRIEND! YOU CAN'T-"

Gently pushing S/O back, Dehya clenched her fist and grit her teeth at the incoming enemies.

(Dehya) "I don't know if I should take that as a compliment or insult considering, so I'll just take it out on these punks!"

Eula's eye twitched as she dropped S/O gently onto their bed, all the while feeling their very weak punches on her arm.

(S/O) "N-No! I can't rest in your bed! I have a girlfriend!"

(Eula) "Has it occurred to you that the person you're speaking to is your girlfriend, S/O?"

(S/O) "Never! Eula is so nice to me!"

(Eula) "This must be karma for waking you up early..."

Eula was informed by the Knight Doctor that she shouldn't wake S/O up at least an hour later for the medicine to mostly wear off.

Yet it had been a few days already and she was so concerned for them that she couldn't help it!

And now she learned that the Doctors know best.

(S/O) "Eula is going to kill me, I can't sleep in another woman's bed!"

(Eula) sigh

Navia is honestly giggling to herself like a madwoman, finding S/O's reaction hilarious and cute!

Navia cleared her throat and spoke in a deeper voice, wondering how long she could keep the bit going.

(Navia) "Ahem! Your dear lover Navia is waiting outside for you, allow me to get her!"

(S/O) "A-Ah, that'd be great, ma'am. Thank you!"

Failing to contain her snicker, she walked out of the room, though if S/O had noticed, they had said nothing. And she dramatically entered the room, flowing her blonde hair behind with a dramatic pose.

(Navia) "S/O, are you doing okay?"

(S/O) "Navia, yes I am! I didn't keep you waiting long did I?"

(Navia) "Nope!" snrk! "Not at all!"

Rosaria couldn't exactly blame S/O, she didn't always look friendly even on a good day, much less when they were high as a kite.

(S/O) "I-I'm sorry, can I help you, miss?"

(Rosaria) "...Nah, just making sure you were okay."

(S/O) "Alright...Um, is my girlfriend out there?"

(Rosaria) "And who'd that be?"

(S/O) "She's a nun, the...scary but pretty looking one, Rosaria. W-Well, I say scary, but she isn't when you get to know her, y'know?"

(Rosaria) "Heh, got it."

Scary but pretty? That was a new one.

She was definitely going to mention this conversation when she went to pick them up later, but for now she had work to do.

Sara knew the medicine to treat S/O was going to be very strong. After all, it was meant for soldiers in pain.

Yet she didn't know it'd hit them THIS hard.

(S/O) "A-Ah, excuse me, soldier!"

Sara turned around, noticing S/O was nearly sitting upright inside the tent, and looking directly at her.

(Sara) "Are you talking to me?"

(S/O) "Yes! I'm sorry to ask this of you, but I was with Sa-...General Kujou, could I ask to speak to her?"

This wasn't a joke, was it?

(Sara) "...S/O, it's me."

(S/O) "I'm aware I'm a civilian, but I still wish to request her presence!"

(Sara) "Shogun give me strength- Okay, I'll get the general for you."

Knowing it'd be better to get herself than to cause a scene, she walks a few paces from the tent.

(Sara) "Maybe we should find some less potent medicine..."

Shenhe concocted an elixir from herbs that Cloud Retainer had taught her to make.

While strong and could heal even the most grievous of injuries, it'd knock you flat on your ass. Clearly, that seemed to be true as S/O was out for nearly a day.

And by the time they awoke, they didn't even know where they were.

(S/O) "Am I...outside? How did I get here?"

(Shenhe) "You are awake."

S/O turned to Shenhe and became quiet for a few moments, staring into her eyes as the sun shone above.

(Shenhe) "How are you feeling?"

(S/O) "Are...you an angel?"

(Shenhe) "No, I am Shenhe."

(S/O) "...Why does this angel look and sound like my girlfriend?"

(Shenhe) "...I do not think this medicine was meant for mortals."

Sucrose nodded to herself as she shook the potion in her hand.

This would wake S/O up instantly, and they'd be feeling better to boot!

Sucrose gently popped the cork off the top, and poured it into their lips-

(S/O) "GRAGBHU?!-"

(Sucrose) "EEP!-"

Sucrose leapt back in surprise as S/O made the most inhuman noise she had heard, quickly looking around.

(S/O) "WHOWHATWHENWHERE?!-"

(Sucrose) "P-Please, calm down! It's just me!"

(S/O) "Is this a lab? Am I being experimented on, what's with this taste in my mouth?!"

(Sucrose) "You're in the Knights' clinic! Take a deep breath and-"

(S/O) "I AM CALM, WHO ARE YOU?!"

(Sucrose) "O-Oh dear...!"

Looks like the potion was too energetic.

Knowing the medicine she made for Ganyu and Shenhe would be too powerful, Xianyun made a weaker dose for S/O.

It'd help alleviate the pain and they'd wake up in an hour or so.

And just on time, S/O opened their eyes.

(Xianyun) "Hm, it seems this One's recipe was just right. How do you feel?"

(S/O) "Ugh, my head...Who's speaking right now?"

(Xianyun) "Hmph! Do you not recognize your own lover?"

(S/O) "...Xianyun? Where are you? I can only see this woman in front of me."

(Xianyun) "Oh, for heaven's sake!"

Clearly she didn't account for them losing their mind.

Xinyan doesn't know exactly what to do other than wait, leading her to practice on her guitar.

Instead of anything wild, it was a rather sweet tune, humming the song's words at risk of waking S/O in an unpleasant manner.

Not that she'd ever expect them to complain being woken up like that.

(S/O) "Hm...That music..."

(Xinyan) "S/O! How ya feelin' luv?"

(S/O) "Fine, thank you, miss. I...think I hear my girlfriend playing music right outside."

Xinyan snorted, which quickly led her to clear her throat, hoping that S/O didn't hear that and continue speaking.

(Xinyan) "Course ya did, silly! I was playin' right next to ya!"

(S/O) "You're not Xinyan...a-are you?"

(Xinyan) "Hoo boy, that medicine really did a number on ya! Just who the heck else talks like this in the whole harbor?!"

(Yoimiya) "S/O! You're awake!"

(S/O) "OOF-!"

Yoimiya hugged S/O tightly, borderline tackling them as she laughed.

(Yoimiya) "Thank goodness you're okay! I heard what happened and came rushing as fast as I could!-"

(S/O) "H-Hey, let go! Who are you?!"

Yoimiya's eyes shot wide and leapt back, terror suddenly filling her eyes.

(S/O) "I have a girlfriend, back off! Where's Yoimiya?!"

(Yoimiya) "But...I'm Yoimiya?"

A moment of silence passed as S/O crossed their arms, unconvinced at their girlfriends' words.

(S/O) "Tch, my head still hurts! If you're the doctor, can you tell me how long this dizziness is going to last?"

...And promptly, S/O fell back on the bed, snoring.

(Yoimiya) "Yikes, jeez what medicine did Thoma give them...?"

...

(S/O) "Yoimiya! Thank the Archons you're here, I think someone tried to hug me, but they had your voice...!"

(Yoimiya) "Gee, I wonder who it could've been..."

[jifloulette]

reo brainrot is plaguing my mind so here's some short bf hcs !!!!!

note ; oh my god this was rotting in my drafts since NOVEMBER. finally got the energy to finish the last one my gosh..

bf reo mikage whose mood completely depends on yours !

his classmates find it silly how you could be sitting on your chair feeling down because of a low test score you got and reo would be there beside you, seemingly sad too, but because of what?? he got an A+ on the same test after all..? his family finds it relieving to see reo smiling beamingly whenever you're smiling, you wouldn't even be smiling directly at him yet he'd still look gleeful! his teammates find it weird how reo could be mad at them, yelling and yelling, shouting and shouting, reminding them to play properly and get their act together and then you come in unannounced with a box of cookies and that same smile reo adores, suddenly his eyes light up and he's squealing when you come closer to him as if he just didn't swear the living shit out of his teammates. if reo could do cartwheels and frontflips, he would've done those on the way to you because he is just so madly in love with youuuuu!!!!

bf reo mikage who absolutely loves hearing go on and on and on about your day !

he especially loves it more when you're spilling tea about people from your class. i mean yeah he knows it's bad but he can't help it? the way you're so focused on telling him an almost 3 minute gossip about this one girl in your history class is all he needs to just lay there on bed with you as he caresses your hair. those moments seldom happen, it usually has you having him lay on your chest while you talk about the funny incident at math class where your teacher forgot about the quiz that was supposed to be taken today and how you got 2 drinks from the vending machine instead of one because you had stumbled over air and hit the machine harshly which caused another drink to fall down. oh and he sees your eyes glimmer up and how you almost always run out of breath because you just have so much to tell him! even if he's always clinging to you either by interlocking arms or grabbing your waist, you'll always have some stories to ramble that even he doesn't know off!

bf reo mikage who impulsively buys anything he sees in stores that remind you of him !

it's a bad habit of his but is it really that bad when he gets to feel you embrace him when he shows you the new matching keychains he bought the two of you? though you tend to scold him for spoiling you rotten, nothing will ever stop him from buying you gifts and trinkets because that's his love language! passing by popmart and sees the mofusand hippers? automatically buys FIVE because he thought they looked like you whenever you were zoning out which is a telltale sign that you badly needed reo to give you a piggyback ride home, not that he minded it though. he's scrolling through facebook and an ad for a jacket pops up? he's already buying two versions, one for you and one for him so that you guys can match! reo def gets offended when you ask him how much they cost and that you'll pay him back because he is your BOYFRIENDDD, he will buy those gifts with NO intention of getting something back.

bf reo mikage who lets you do all sorts of hairstyles on him !

he will also proudly show it off when you guys are at school too, he could care less about what other people think because why would he? his s/o did that hairstyle for him so why should he be ashamed? you would see a cute hairstyle post whilst scrolling through Tiktok and wanted to try it out, but before doing it on you, what better way to see if it was cute by trying it out on your boyfriend? reo wouldn't even try to say no because he wouldn't mind it at all, plus it was a good way to spend time with you. you would let him hold your phone as you try to follow the steps in the video as quickly yet properly as you can. after a few mistakes and redos, you had finished the look and dare you say, it may fit him better than you.. reo looked really good even though the hairstyle was a bit on the feminine side. he'd keep it on for the entire day, not caring or doing anything when the teachers tell him to take it off (rich boy privileges LMAO) oh and later on, you'd also put pins and hairclips on him too! the ones that matched his hair and eyes! this would also be a frequent sleepover activity the two of you do, reo would set up a space in his room dedicated to THIS specific thing!!!

©🇯​​🇮​​🇫​​🇱​​🇴​​🇺​​🇱​​🇪​​🇹​​🇹​​🇪​, do not steal, translate, or repost any of my writings anywhere else. ౨ৎ

[anim-ttrpgs]

Question about deathbed: i havent seen much about it yet but what ive seen doesnt make it sound very...fun to be alive in that world and that its like influenced by practices of the christian church during the middle ages and stuff like that, so im wondering how that would affect being able to even really play a woman being badass in that game?

Is it basically hardmode difficulty if you wanna play a woman?

I have two answers to this.

First is that in Death Bed, a woman can be badass. I’ll demonstrate by making Herr Rike, an old literary and AD&D character of mine, in Death Bed. @thepleasuregoblin @ashweather and @umbraldame can attest that she is just about the most believably badass person there is. (Despite the title of “Herr,” she is a woman and always has been. Well she’s female, technically she isn’t human and in her setting “woman” is a human-specific term while other sapient species have their own terms for genders but you get the point.)

(art by @chaospyromancy)

I’m not gonna go through this very granularly because in Death Bed most stats are rolled, start out very low, and then are upgraded one at a time by level-ups. But over the course of building her stats up to where they should be to represent her I would focus on Agility, Scripture, Dexterity, Vigor, Strength, Endurance, Arcane, and Attunement from highest to lowest in that order.

For Traits, I would get her

(this is a men-only Trait, and also one I will probably nerf before final release, but a female character can still take it, at a price.)

(she isn't actually humble, but the effect of this Trait fits her personality.)

(note the sidebars in this one)

(in no particular order)

I might also consider giving her Gentleman (Men only.) but at the moment in the game’s unfinished state that Trait has an unclear interaction with Lady.

Yes, she does have both men-only and women-only Traits, that’s allowed, it just reduces her Social Status. I rolled it and at the end of all those Traits she still has a Social Status of 27, which is fairly high.

Social Status is a stat representing how respectable the character is by the standards of 1400s society. It determines who gets to talk down to and degrade who. What the higher Social Status character says goes, and if this pecking order is challenged, that tends to distress people.

Characters who have Traits which fall outside their perceived gender suffer a debuff to Social Status, because that’s just how it was back then. Hell, that’s how it is today.

So she could kill monsters and shit with a sword just fine, the worst she would get is maybe the occasional weird look, especially since, in the Middle Ages, it was irregular but not strictly forbidden for women to practice martial arts. The super strict sex-segregation of martial arts was way more of a Renaissance and onward thing.

Now for the second answer.

A lot of what our cultural idea of what is “cool” and “badass” is extremely masculine-favoring. And while yes, swords and armor and violence are cool and badass, (I’m not immune to thinking that the things knights do is cooler than the things their wives do.) a lot of “feminist” or “egalitarian” or otherwise “pro-women” media that is historically set ends up having the message “This woman is badass and cool because she’s.. like a man, unlike those other lameass women who are like women.”

It ends up being the medieval version of that action movie trope that goes like

Male Lead: (pleasantly surprised) “You know how to fight and be badass?”

Female Lead: *racks shotgun* “I grew up with 7 brothers and so I had to learn how to play rough and played army instead of Barbie dolls and I didn’t have a mother and my ex-special-forces dad taught me how to fight starting at a young age. All that masculinity helped me grow up to be cool and tough woman instead of a boring helpless stupid woman.”

instead of, like, celebrating the other 99% of women in that time period who just did woman stuff.

Death Bed allows you to make a character that is a woman but effectively fills the social roles of a man such as killing stuff with a sword*(which is something just about every other TTRPG on the planet also allows), and it allows you to make a character that is a woman and fills all the more normal social roles of a woman while still being a very valuable asset to the party both in and out of combat (and Death Bed has a lot of “out of combat” stuff going on. It’s a classic dungeon crawler, which involves a good amount of combat, but is not purely combat and a party needs plenty of characters who are focused on other things if they want to survive.)

*and again, this wasn’t even something women were strictly barred from doing at the time.

Fencing Master: (Men only. +1 Social Status.) This struggler has +1 Scripture, +1 Strength, +1 Dexterity, and +1 Agility. Additionally, upon gaining this Trait, give him any three Weapon Special Attribute Masteries, selected at random from those he does not already have. Additionally, reduce his Hollowness by 1 each time he gains a new Special Weapon Attribute Mastery. However, this struggler must make a Despair roll any time his martial technique is called into question or disrespected, unless he proves himself. If he attempts to prove himself and fails, he must take an added instance of disadvantage to this Despair roll. He must also make a Despair roll each time his weapon is reduced in Maintenance Rating as a result of a failed attack roll. 

Additionally, this struggler gains 2x the EXP from engagements in which he fights alone without allies. 

Frightening Demeanor: (+1 Social Status.) So long as this struggler is not a non-combatant, apply a -1 to this struggler’s Attention each time their Attention is increased. However, apply an added instance of disadvantage to their reaction rolls. 

Humble: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s good nature is a bulwark to disrespect. They gain an added instance of Advantage to any despair rolls related to disrespect. They gain an additional added instance of advantage to any despair roll related to disrespect from characters of lower Social Status. 

Lady: (Women only. +3 Social Status.) This struggler has an added +3 to Scripture,[1] and an instance of advantage on reaction rolls. However, she must take an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair roll resulting from being disrespected by a man or woman of lower social standing, and must make a Despair roll up to once per Scene in which she is not wearing fine women’s clothing.[2][3]

[1. Sidebar] Literacy was considered the domain of noblewomen, clergy, and scribes.

[2. Sidebar] This Trait does not require the struggler to be a non-combatant. Though it was unorthodox for them to participate directly in battle, women of noble standing were not barred from martial training. In fact, a nobleman’s wife was expected to command his levies in battle should their home be attacked while he is away.

[3. Sidebar] Wearing fine women’s clothing does not preclude the wearing of most armor, so long as the visibly feminine elements are preserved.

Additionally, up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 100 EXP if she goes the entire Scene without getting her shoes or dress muddy, wet, or otherwise dirty. [gains EXP from reading literature or eating fine food and drinking fine wine? Figure this out.]

Paranoid: (-1 Social Status.) This struggler has an added instance of advantage to Agility rolls to avoid triggered traps, and, once per Hourglass, the player of this struggler can ask that the Narrator reveal to their struggler any and all traps in a room or general surrounding area and the Narrator will do so. However, they must make a Despair roll if they ever accidentally trigger a trap, or if anyone ever startles them such as by walking up behind them or waking them from their sleep.

Also, when the Narrator makes a wandering monster roll, the player of this struggler may ask that the result be revealed to them, but if they do so, this struggler makes a Despair roll.

Up to once per Scene, this struggler gains 10 EXP for being right about the dangers that lurk nearby.

Sharp Tongue: (+0 Social Status.) This struggler’s quick tongue and quicker wit allow them to wind around any social slight with the agility of a skilled fencer. At this struggler’s choice, they can cause the object of their ridicule either an added instance of advantage or an added instance of disadvantage to any Despair rolls related to disrespect from this struggler. Either advantage or disadvantage is doubled if their words are actually said in dialogue or at least summarized and the Narrator deems their remark sufficiently clever.

Tactician: (+1 Social Status.) Once per engagement, this struggler can bark out a specific order to an ally with a Social Status up to 3 degrees higher than their own, or any degree lower.[1] If the ally they are ordering complies, that ally gains an instance of Advantage to the next 3 rolls that carrying out that order may entail. However, if the ally refuses or fails to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll. If the ally dies as a result of attempting to carry out this order, then this struggler must make a Despair roll with an instance of Disadvantage.

[1. Sidebar] This can be done even if this struggler is a non-combatant.

Additionally, this struggler gains 5 EXP for each successful roll on the aforementioned next 3 rolls made by their ally complying with their orders. 

[vaginalvr]

Okay can I request Spencer with virgin reader or inexperienced reader pls thank you 🙏 side note I really loved the unsub Spencer fic too 🤤 I love your writing

Yes ofc! I got a little carried away. Enjoy!

Spencer reid x inexperienced!reader

cw: first time, slow & intimate, praise, prep, gentle desperation

The rain had started sometime after midnight.

You and Spencer sat curled together on his worn couch, the low hum of classical music playing in the background. A chessboard was abandoned on the coffee table. Two mugs of tea long forgotten beside it.

He was warm next to you, long legs folded awkwardly, one arm slung over the back of the couch, brushing your shoulder now and then. He kept looking at you—more than usual tonight. You could feel it in the shift of his breathing. The hesitation. The gravity.

You bit your lip, heart fluttering.

“I’ve never…” you started, then stopped.

Spencer blinked, head tilting slightly. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, avoiding his eyes. “I just… I think if this keeps going—us, I mean—I should tell you something.”

He straightened a little, concern flashing in his features. “Okay.”

“I’ve never been with anyone before. Like, sexually.”

Silence stretched for half a breath.

Spencer’s lips parted, then closed again, and you braced yourself for some awkward apology or well-meaning “that’s okay” speech—but what you got instead was something else entirely.

Relief.

His shoulders dropped. His hand slid down to gently hold yours.

“Thank you for trusting me with that,” he said softly.

You finally looked up.

He was staring at you like he always did when he was about to recite facts—but this time, his voice stayed low, intimate.

“Do you want to know something kind of embarrassing?” he said, a smile ghosting at the corner of his mouth. “I haven’t been with anyone in a really long time. Like, years. I’ve… been waiting for it to mean something again.”

You exhaled slowly. “So you’re not…”

“Judging you? No. Not even a little. In fact…” He leaned in closer, voice dropping into something that made your stomach twist, “The thought of being your first is kind of driving me crazy.”

Your face flushed. “Spencer…”

His hand cupped your cheek.

“We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for,” he murmured. “But if you want me, really want me—I swear I’ll take care of you.”

“I do,” you said. “I really do.”

His mouth hovered over yours. “Then come with me.”

Now, you were lying on his bed, nerves prickling under your skin, but excitement humming just as loud. Spencer hovered over you, gentle and reverent.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, fingers sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, lifting it with careful slowness. “Every part of you.”

Your breath hitched when his lips met your collarbone. He kissed down, unhurried, until he reached the band of your underwear.

“Can I take these off?” he asked, voice husky.

You nodded, and he peeled them down your thighs, kissing the inside of your knee as he did.

“Just relax,” he murmured. “Let me show you how good it can be.”

He nestled between your legs, hands stroking your thighs, his mouth tracing hot, open kisses along the sensitive skin.

Then he leaned in and tasted you.

You gasped—shock, pleasure, something more. He moaned softly into you, like your body was answering a question he’d always wanted to ask.

“God, you taste so sweet,” he breathed. “I could stay here forever.”

His tongue circled your clit, teasing and soft. His hands held you firmly, grounding you, and every few seconds he looked up—making sure you were okay.

“You’re doing so good for me,” he praised, voice low. “So responsive… so perfect.”

Then one of his long fingers pressed at your entrance.

“Just one, okay?” he said. “Tell me if it’s too much.”

He slid in slow, letting you adjust, curling gently to find the right spot. You whimpered, overwhelmed by how full you already felt.

“You’re so tight,” he murmured, clearly struggling to control himself. “It’s gonna feel so good when I’m inside you.”

He added a second finger, opening you gently, pumping slow and deliberate, watching every twitch and moan with reverence.

“Look at you,” he whispered. “Taking my fingers so well. You’re gonna take my cock so well too.”

You clenched around him, and he groaned, desperate.

“Don’t do that. I’m barely holding on here.”

You reached for him, breathless. “I need you, Spencer. Please.”

He hesitated for only a moment—then nodded, carefully lining himself up and pressing the thick head of his cock against your entrance.

“You ready?”

“Yes.”

He pushed in slow—inch by inch, eyes squeezed shut like he was in pain.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “You’re so tight. So warm. I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

You whimpered as he bottomed out, the stretch deep and overwhelming but not unbearable. He stayed still, kissing your face, brushing your hair back.

“Breathe,” he whispered. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

Then he moved.

Slow, gentle thrusts, dragging pleasure over your nerves until your hips were lifting to meet him. His praise spilled freely—like he couldn’t stop.

“You feel so good around me.” “You’re perfect.” “Taking me so well—just like I knew you would.”

You were close, trembling. He reached between you, rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit.

“Come for me,” he breathed. “Let me feel you.”

Your orgasm hit fast, clenching around him, and he moaned loud into your neck, thrusts turning sloppy.

“I’m gonna—fuck—I’m coming—”

He spilled inside you with a deep, broken groan, collapsing gently on top of you, holding you like glass.

“I love you,” he whispered, still breathless. “I’ve loved you since the first time you smiled at me.”

You kissed his jaw, dizzy and warm.

“I love you too.”

[onismdaydream]

♡ ⋆｡˚ keep your hands to yourself !

synopsis..!: your roommate found the bathroom door open! can you blame him for wanting to join? (3.1k)

warnings..!: MDNI. fem/afab reader. aged up character. pwp. perv!yuji. voyeurism. dubcon(at first). fingering. unprotected p in v. not proofread.

notes..!: first proper writing for perv yuji based off an ask i got that was too delicious to pass up. i had a lot of fun writing this even if i was a bit nervous bc i wanted to really lean into the pervy-ness. comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

yuji’s relaxing on the beaten up couch in the shared living area, scrolling past uninteresting videos on his phone while the tv screen plays an equally uninteresting show when the familiar jingling of various keychains clanking against each other filters to his ears. he's gotten better at recognizing the sounds you make — an unintentional side effect of sneaking around you.

well, sneaking sounds bad. it makes yuji feel dirty, like he's taking advantage of you without you knowing. he'd much rather say that he observes you. after all, there's no harm in looking, right? and there's certainly no harm done if yuji stays out of your sight during those moments.

the knob turns and the door opens and you let out a loud sigh as you kick your shoes off, dropping your bag on the closest surface available.

“long day?” yuji offers, straightening up a bit when you make your way over to him. his lips twitch upwards when you flop down next to him, your body sinking into the cushion. your hands run down your face, almost as if you're trying to wipe the exhaustion away. cute.

“you don't even know.” your eyes close and yuji takes the opportunity to let his gaze linger on your body, your relaxed posture practically begging him to look.

with your head thrown back and resting against the couch, your neck is exposed. smooth skin that he wishes he could nip and suck at, positive that you'd look even better covered in marks left by him. his fingers itch to reach out and touch you, to run them along your collarbone and down the valley of your perfect breasts. he'd love to feel the weight of them in his hands, to squeeze them and pinch your pretty nipples until you cry out for him. it's like you're playing with yuji, really, with how often you show off your chest. those cute swim tops you wear that barely stay in place or the shirts with the deep neckline, they drive him crazy. he's had to excuse himself to jerk off more times than he'd like to admit, images of your tits in his face as you bounce on his cock flooding his mind.

“we could, uh,” yuji starts, swallows when his mouth gets too dry, his tongue heavy where it sits. “we could watch a movie? get your mind off of it.”

it's a genuine offer; yuji does enjoy spending time with you and considers you a very good friend. it's just an added bonus that you always end up pressed up against him during those hang outs. your plush thigh looks so soft and warm and he wants to dig his fingers into the doughy skin, maybe even leave some bruises.

a soft exhale leaves your nose, and you shake your head before you open your eyes. “thanks but not tonight.”

yuji’s heart drops a bit, a disappointment he knows he never earns the right to weighing it down.

“i'm pretty tired so i’m gonna shower and then go to bed. rain check?” you stand, stretching your arms above your head and your shirt rides up with the movement. a small sliver of your stomach is exposed, drawing yuji’s eyes instantly. a moth to a flame.

“yeah, sure.” his words trail off, yuji only half paying attention to what you said. he can't help it — his mind goes blank when he gets a peek of your body. he watches you walk away, watches the sway of your hips in a trance until you step out of his line of vision.

there should be a feeling of guilt in the pit of yuji’s stomach, but there's not. there never is and he doubts there ever will be. instead, there's unbridled lust. he craves to touch your body, to feel your warm skin underneath his fingertips and to pull the sweetest sounds from your lips.

yuji’s hand falls to his growing bulge, the front of his shorts chubbing underneath the heat of his palm. a shaky breath slips past his lips as he squeezes his cock, wishing so desperately that it was your touch instead. he wouldn't even care how you touched him. as long as it was your fingers wrapped around his length, he would feel euphoric. hell, he'd even fuck into your fist if that's all you would give him.

he groans softly and shuts his eyes, imagining you leaning forward in that low cut shirt he loves so much, the one that shows off your gorgeous tits, and your hand just barely closing around his cock, a teasing touch that he doesn't deserve. shit, he wants it so bad — wants you so bad.

the sound of the shower sputtering to life snaps him out of his horny stupor, face flushing as he realizes that if you came back for any reason, you would've seen him. the tent of his shorts is obvious and there's no doubt that you wouldn't have known what he was doing. literally caught with his hands in his pants.

with a sigh, yuji decides to go to his room. if he's going to jack off to the thought of you, at least he should have the decency to not do it in a shared area.

the door to the bathroom isn't closed fully, the warm light spilling out from the cracks and shining on the opposite wall. it's like a siren’s call and yuji doesn't even realize his feet are moving again until he's standing in front of it, his hand hovering over the door. one small push and there'd be no privacy. one small push and he could see you fully. one small push.

there’s no hesitation.

yuji licks his lips, his mouth dry despite the humidity in the small room. water droplets cling to the glass of the mirror and shower, slowly running down the surface. the image is obscured but he can still easily make out the shapes. your curves look more pronounced now that you're bare and it's a sight that he never wants to forget.

he must be dreaming, seeing your hands move along your body through the textured and fogged glass. he feels his cock twitch, throbbing and aching in neglect, his erection forgotten as he watches you. you look so beautiful, so so pretty with the water cascading down your skin. one of those ancient marble statues carved in the visage of true beauty, now come to life in front of his very eyes. but here you were, hidden and protected by glass to keep admirers from touching what isn't theirs.

if only yuji could see you without the barrier, if only he could touch you like he wants to. he'd be so delicate with his handling, so thorough to ensure that you wouldn't crack or be damaged. all he wants is the chance to fully appreciate you in all your glory.

perhaps this is his only chance.

yuji’s movements are slow, careful, as he strips down to his underwear. his clothes fall to join your own on the tile. the muggy air sticks to his already hot skin, lingering in his lungs and making every breath heavier than the last. the few steps in the small bathroom seem to be multiplied tenfold, his heart hammering against his ribs and echoing in his ears.

it's not nerves rushing through his veins, though. it's excitement and desire; the mere idea of being able to touch your skin throws logic out of the window. even if you end up hating him, yuji isn't sure that he would regret this moment.

it's a blur of how it happens, his body acting on instinct as he covers your mouth and presses his broad chest against your back. you try to scream, jumping in his hold and fighting to get away.

(you feel so warm.)

yuji easily overpowers you, keeping you exactly where he wants you, a sturdy arm wrapped around your middle. he can feel you panicking, can feel the tenseness in your muscles and the rapid beating of your heart.

(so warm and soft and perfect.)

“‘ts okay,” his lips ghost along your shoulder, his fingers flexing as he tries not to move them yet. “please, let me touch you. i’ll make you feel so good.”

you're stiff against him, hands on his wrists but no longer actively clawing and pushing. he can feel the shaky breaths you’re taking, the exhales from your nose licking against his skin.

(you must want this, too, right?)

“please.” yuji repeats, his begging bordering on pathetic. “you're all i think about. need to touch you, please.”

and it's that honesty, that confession of obsession and desire, that seems to make you relax a bit. or, that’s what yuji wants to believe as you give a small nod, the movement slightly restricted from his hold on you.

yuji’s hand leaves your mouth slowly, almost afraid that you would break if he moved too suddenly. you're so fragile in his eyes, a beautiful doll meant to be observed and admired from afar. made of porcelain and only meant to be touched with gloves.

but the warmth of your skin underneath his fingers proves you are so much better than those damn figures.

“thank you.” his palms immediately cup your tits, gently squeezing the fat of them and groaning quietly at the feel. “oh god, thank you, thank you, thank you.”

it's nothing like he imagined. your tits are so soft in his calloused hands, warmth seeping through your skin and nearly burning him. but he can't pull away, not now.

“fuck,” yuji whispers next to your ear, his hands pulling you flush against him, his cock prodding at your lower back. hooking his chin over your shoulder, he watches in a daze as he gropes at your chest. “so perfect.”

you let him fondle your breasts, biting your lip when his fingers graze over your nipples, trying your best to keep your reactions neutral. he squeezes and kneads, pushes your tits together, makes them jiggle a bit, too — anything his mind can think of. it was only a matter of time, though, until he shifted his focus to your stiffening buds.

“look at ‘em.” he pinches your nipples, a sharp pleasure pain that zings down your spine and pulls a squeak from you. “you look so pretty.”

he's no expert, but yuji prides himself on being a quick learner. he repeats the action, adds a kiss to your shoulder for good measures, desperate to get the same reaction. he promised to make you feel good after all, right?

and if you end up enjoying this as much as he wants you to, well then, maybe you wouldn't hate him so much when it's all said and done. it's a win-win, really.

you whine softly at his touch and the sound goes straight to his aching dick.

“don't hold back,” he pleads, lips trailing up your shoulder to press against your neck. now that you're finally in his hold, he doesn't plan on wasting a single second of contact. “w’nna hear all your noises. please. always sound so sexy.”

“yuji,” a sweet moan spills from your pretty mouth and yuji swears that he could cum right then. his name on your lips sounds so sinful — no, heavenly. there's surely no better sound in the world and he wants to hear it over and over again.

“fuck, say it again.” his voice is dripping with desperation, hips jumping to rut against your back. you must be made for him, must be made to say his name because nothing will ever compare.

yuji’s cock leaks globs of precum as you do as he asks — begs for — his boxer briefs sticking so uncomfortably to his heated skin. they're soaked through, the white fabric becoming practically transparent and if you were turned the other way, you'd surely see how badly he wants you.

a hand runs down your front, gradually sliding until he reaches your pussy, cupping it and feeling the warmth bleed into his skin. his breathing is heavy and hot — suffocating, almost — with the water spraying around you. slowly, carefully, yuji presses his finger between your lips, feeling as though time pauses and the world shrinks down until it's just you and him. nothing else could possibly matter because he has your slick arousal gathering on his first knuckle.

it's a fucking wet dream come true.

you're tight around him, not so much that he can't move, but enough that his cock throbs when he imagines what it'll feel like when he sinks himself inside.

(would you let him?)

his finger starts a steady pace of thrusting in and out, gentle and shallow movements.

“so wet,” yuji mumbles, voice dropping as he staves off a groan. his other hand squeezes at your tit, a lot less gentle and a lot more hungry. an internal battle of wanting to drag this out for as long as possible and needing to push you to your limits immediately. he wants to savor this, take his time exploring every inch of your body that he can, but his dick hurts from how hard it is. he wants to devour you, too.

another finger prods at your dripping pussy, pushing past and making you moan so pretty.

your body is pressed so close to his own, pinned between his strong arms and hips, unable to control himself from humping onto you. your fingers wrap around his wrists, anchoring yourself as he rubs at your puffy clit. every sound you make spurs him to pull more from you.

“can i,” his tongue darts out to lick at his lips, his breathing labored from the desire flowing through him. “can i fuck you? please, just — hah — just a few thrusts, promise i’ll stop after, just need to feel you.”

you don't even finish nodding before yuji peels his wet underwear down enough for his cock to spring free, groaning softly. his tip is drooling when he pulls his foreskin back, shiny with precum and flushed red. he presses it to your swollen clit just to hear you whine softly, hoping you're just as desperate as he is.

“thank you, fuck, need this so bad.” yuji pushes you to the shower wall, the tile cold against your skin but the scorching heat of his body still makes you shiver.

his hand shakes as he guides himself in, sliding his cock into the person he's fantasized about far too often to be normal. finally feeling your body underneath his fingertips and hearing your delicious moans and tasting your skin on his tongue. he'd be convinced this wasn't real — just some cruel dream his horny mind conjured up — if it weren't for the squeeze of your cunt as he pushes another inch deeper.

“feel so good,” his hand on your hip tightens it's hold, fingertips sure to leave a beautiful bruise. every thrust forward sinks more of his cock inside you, sheathing himself in your perfect pussy. “so warm.”

it's hard, nearly impossible, to control his hips, to restrict himself from fucking you the way he's thought about. all he can think about is burying himself inside you until he can't go any deeper, grinding until he spills his load, staying in your cunt and starting all over again. your pussy would be so swollen, lips puffy and so much cum leaking out of you, and still, yuji wouldn't be satisfied.

and those noises that fall from your lips, your breathy moans and broken cries of his name, it just makes his cock throb.

he's going to cum. you're going to make him cum.

the embarrassment that would usually accompany finishing so soon is far outweighed by the tight heat hugging his cock. how could anyone expect to last when your pussy sucks him in so well?

“oh god, don't, don't make me stop, please.” the words tumble from his mouth, his hips slapping against your ass as he fucks you fast and hard. that familiar tightening in his stomach threatening to snap at any moment. he knows he said he would pull out but he doesn't want to. he really doesn't want to.

“d-don’t stop, yuji,” you whine out, your fingers scrambling for purchase on the smooth tile, the now cool water making everything more slippery. yuji’s broad body is there to keep you upright, his hands roaming over every part of you he can reach. “don't fucking stop.”

he's not sure if he could stop anyway, you just feel so good around him. he's gotten a taste for you and now he's addicted, already looking for his next hit. would you hate him if he did this again? if he falls to his knees in front of you and begs to be between your legs once again?

but with the way you're moaning and tightening around him, yuji might just be lucky enough to have your cum on his tongue later.

his teeth graze against the sensitive spot on your neck, nipping and sucking at it until there's a dark color blooming. a mark.

a claim.

this is what he's dreamed of, what he's jerked off to countless times. and it's so much better than what yuji could ever imagine.

your pussy flutters around him and he quickly snakes his hand around your front, frantically rubbing at your clit and hoping he can ensure you orgasm first.

“cum for me, please,” he whispers, breath hot against the shell of your ear. “w’nna feel you cum on my cock.”

everything feels so intense, the echoing of the spraying water mixing with the lewd sounds of fucking and skin hitting skin and a symphony of moans. and suddenly, the dam breaks.

“yuji!” you cry out, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you clench, hard. it's heavenly, feeling you spasm around his cock and milking him for all he's worth. he's meant to be here, meant to be inside you.

it's inevitable that he cums, unable to hold off any longer. his hips stutter, grinding slowly against your ass as you both come down from the high.

the water is turning cold by now, a welcome relief from the heat radiating from your bodies. yuji’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, his fingers squeezing gently at your hips before he pulls out. he should feel guilty. he should feel really fucking guilty for everything he did.

but he doesn't.

seeing the marks that he left on your skin and the cum dripping from your pussy just makes him determined to leave more, to fuck you more.

“yuji,” you start, and, fuck, he still loves the way it sounds coming from your mouth. “what… what just happened?”

you turn your head and for the first time since you got off the couch, you can see him clearly. a hand at the back of his neck, a sweet chuckle, and that innocent, boyish smile gracing his features. his face is flushed a pretty pink that matches his hair, the same hair that's stuck to his forehead from the water and sweat from fucking you.

“sorry, couldn't help myself.”

[batsandbirdbrains]

Can you imagine the absolute psychotic break Dick would have if he found out Deathstroke was his biological dad? So anyway on that note

The one where Dick is actually Deathstroke’s son

Dick legitimately has no clue in this AU that he’s not actually the son of John and Mary Grayson. Let’s go ahead and make this one also right after the end of young justice season 2 where everyone is pissy bc nightwing was “secretive” and “too much like Batman” bc he did the absolute correct thing in not telling the whole goddamn team abt Kaldur’s deep cover op. I’m still mad they gave him shit for that if u can’t tell like im sorry u all got ur feelings hurt but dick and Kaldur’s plan literally saved the world like hello ur welcome. Anyway.

Dick is utterly Depressed and he’s isolating himself in a Blüdhaven safe house, basically falling apart at the seams bc he’s terrible at taking care of himself when he spirals like this. Everyone’s mad at him and he’s blaming himself. He’s throwing himself into the Nightwing shit and running himself ragged beating up baddies, but he’s also just exhausted and not eating right or sleeping well and he has a shitty job at dive bar or a strip club as a busboy. Should we age him down to 17? Let’s make him 17, for the added angst of not even being a legal adult but having to take care of himself and make a fake ID so he can even get a job. Not that his boss even really looked at it or legally employs him, but still. If he’s 18+ let’s make him a stripper/dancer for the extra tips and to add to the whole desperate for cash thing. Plus he’d prob get a lot of intel for his night job, actually. Idk idk

So also, instead of Artemis going undercover to help out with Kaldur, she refused. She and Wally had no interest in returning. So Dick had to maintain both his role as Nightwing and go undercover as Renegade, Deathstroke’s apprentice.

Slade was surprisingly on board for going along with Dick’s charade, because there’s no keeping secrets like that from Deathstroke of course he knew it was all a ruse. Dick just had to promise to actually follow orders while out as Renegade and to actually put effort in when Slade trained him. Dick couldn’t figure out why it was so easy to get Deathstroke to agree, he knew it would eventually come back to bite him in the ass, but he was desperate and running out of options so he took it.

So one night when Dick comes home after getting the shit kicked out of him by some run of the mill baddies, he finds Slade Wilson sitting on at his wobbly kitchen table, drinking coffee out of Dick’s favorite mug and looking like he’s judging the state of cleanliness (or lack thereof) of Dick’s apartment/safe house. Dick is too tired to even question it and just falls face first on the couch, pressing his face into the cushion until he sees stars.

A muffled “What do you want” brings a short laugh from Slade, and it just makes Dick feel even more exhausted.

Slade basically talks shit about the so called heroes who threw Dick away when they didn’t like the way his plan worked, Dick starts tuning him out because of course he’s going on a monologue when all Dick wants to do is go rot in bed for the next 18 hours. But then he says something in such a casual tone that it takes a moment for Dick to register what the words mean, and he snaps his head up so fast it feels like he snaps a muscle in his neck like a broken rubber band.

“Shut the fuck up,” he chokes out. “There’s no way I heard that right.”

“Denial’s not a good look on you,” Slade snorts.

Because Slade had just said moments ago that Dick is his long lost son, he ran a DNA test and everything.

“Long lost son,” Dick mocks, “that’s bullshit. What is this, a soap opera?”

“You were kidnapped when you were two years old,” Slade says, his voice calm but serious. Not wavering. “I’d been on a job. Your mother was called away by her father. You were left with a nanny we thought we could trust. That was a mistake. And I’ve regretted leaving that morning every day of my life since.”

Dick can’t stop staring at Slade. This has gotta be a joke. He’s so full of shit, there’s no way.

But Slade isn’t wavering at all. He’s not smirking. He’s not smiling. He’s just watching Dick so intensely, and Dick feels like he’s under a microscope.

He shows Dick the documents. The proof Slade even has a third son at all. Pictures that look an awful lot like the toddler he’s seen in pictures from the boxes of old stuff from his parents’ circus trailer. A toddler playing with Slade’s two older sons, Grant and Joey, who Dick may or may not have briefly met while Renegade.

And then he drops another bomb on him.

“Your mother is Talia al Ghul.”

Dick feels like his lungs just popped like a balloon.

He doesn’t know what happens, but next thing he knows, Slade is sitting next to him on the floor, counting out breaths and talking him down from what was probably the worst panic attack Dick has had in at least a solid week.

“I hate you and you’re full of shit,” Dick gasps, his chest aching. Definitely only because he’d been kicked in the ribs earlier by a thug, no other reason.

Slade just laughs. Not like an asshole smug laugh Dick is used to hearing from him, but like he’s actually genuinely amused by Dick and his antics.

It’s only a little bit of a mind fuck.

Slade convinced Dick to come with him, at the very least just so Dick can use the equipment Slade has to run the DNA test himself and confirm whether Slade is telling the truth or not. And maybe to have a meal that isn’t instant ramen or cereal or a rotisserie chicken.

And Dick hates how comfortable he is with Slade, because he slips right back into the role of Renegade like he never left. And Slade actually treats him like a son, like he’s proud of him, like Dick isn’t just a weapon or a pawn to be used. Slade isn’t throwing him away as soon as he’s gotten all he can get out of him.

And if Slade is maybe putting some biased thoughts about how the Justice League and their junior team treated him into his head, Dick steadfastly ignored that fact. Because it’s true, they treated him like shit. Like he was expendable. They needed his plan to save the world from the reach, and then tossed him out on his ass and called him manipulative for it without so much as a “Thank you, Nightwing, for coming up with a plan that saved us from the alien overlords.”

And then he meets Grant and Joey. As himself, as Dick, not as Renegade. And they’re his big brothers, and they’re so excited to see him, they missed him so much, he was so little last they saw him. And it’s such a stark contrast from how Tim was so mad at him last they spoke, because Tim thought he should’ve been in the loop about the deep cover op, but Tim is still a newbie who almost tore his eyebrows off taking his domino mask off wrong not even a month before the invasion ended, how the hell was Dick supposed to involve him in such a terrifying mission?

And if Dick is out as Renegade with Deathstroke one night and runs into members of his old team, runs into a confused Kaldur who doesn’t understand why Dick is still going out as Renegade, well then maybe they should’ve worried about what Dick was up to before Deathstroke sunk his claws into him.

Because now Dick isn’t sure if he even wants to go back to them.

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Not on the carpet! | The Salesman x Wife!Reader |

Notes: Different from the other ones. Reader knows what his husband does for work.

Summary: Your dear Husband comes home with blood and all you want is it to not touch the dam carpet!!

Warnings: Blood - Canon Violence - Suggestive -

The Salesman knows he is not looking his best right now. Not after having to kill some people who were getting too close to the truth of the games.

And he knows what his dear wife will say once he opens the door. Instead of a warm smile a look of panic will be there. Not for him.

"Dont let that blood fall on the carpet!" You tell him in a stern tone coming to greet him when you did hear the door open but stopped after seeing the blood on him.

"Hello my Love. I hope your day went better than mine" He says pulling off his suit jacket but not moving from the entrance.

Last time he did get blood on the carpet not only was he forced to clean it himself. He was banned to the guest room (no problem the bed its comfortable). But his lovely wife banned him of sex. For a week. And she did nothing but keep temting him all week. Wearing pajama shorts that barely covered her ass and let him see her legs. Light colored shirts that let him see her tits and nippels.

Oh, how he wanted to just throw you over the table and fuck you nice and rough. Make you forget your name and only know his. He wanted you to regret it.

But he had to demostrate he did have some self control. So on the last night exaclty when the clock did hit the final time he was on you like a dog in heat. Pulling you over his lap, touching all the exposed skin and leaving bruises behind.

And while that sex was amazing. He would prefer to not be on another week without sex.

"Here" You did appear again giving him a big plastic bowl so he could put his dirty clothes in. "I will wash it later. I can only imagine how much of a pain its going to be" Your face did show the small anger towards it.

"Sorry Love. But the blood of these worms seems to be as dirty as them" He responded removing his tie too.

"You are not injured, right?" You asked seeing some blood on his cheeck but he just dismisses your question with a move of his hand. "Good. Let me get you some cotton and water then"

"Im finally allowed inside my home?" He half joked as he saw you go then do a stop and look back at him. "It did not get on my shirt I promise"

He remembers that one time when it did get on his shirt. He had to sat for then minutes of you scolding him.

"...Then come. But you know what will happen if I see a single blood drop!"

The Saledman groaned following you into the big bathroom taking a seat on the toilet. "Not sex ban again my Love" He begged pulling you close so he could get his face against your stomach "Jerking off to pictures of you or videos of us its never enough. I need the real thing" To add his point he gives your ass a firm grip.

You try to ignore him as you get some water and cotton to clean off the blood from his face.

"Dont be a baby" Its your response as you slowly clean his handsome face. Glad to see that there are not injuries but just dry blood as he said. "And you did make up for it when the week ended" You added the memory still fresh on your mind.

"I came so fast" He says his eyes never leaving you. Him falling for you soft touch. "I was inside you and then I just filled you up so fast" he sounded so dissapointed with himself.

"You did. But it was a lot. I believe we should let your balls get as much cum as they can so you can fill me up really nice"

The Salesman let out a small sound between a laught and a groan. "Dont make me pull you against that wall...I still need to shower so you dont get the smell of these men"

You smiled at his possessive nature giving him a kiss on the head once you were done cleaning him.

"And I havent finish making your favorite food. So looks like we both will have to attend diferent things before I can greet you properly"

"You are my favorite food. You always taste so divine. I wish I could be between your legs all day. Making you cum over and over again. Getting all of hit on my face and chin. I will lick it up so good. You would be crying from how much stimulation you are getting. But I know you would not care about it. You would let me keep going, because you love me. And you love what I do to you"

You blushed hard under his gaze and his smirk. He was not wrong. And that scene did happen once. You were so wasted after it...you could barely walk let alone think straight. You were like a doll and he loved it. He loved being the cause of your pleasure.

"Yeah well. Maybe later" one look from him made you crumble. There was not a "maybe" it was a "defenetly" and part of you believed he would not wait till you ended dinner.

"Its a promise my Love" He said kissing your hand and wrist. He closed his eyes as he smelled your skin. Oh how he loved it. It was just...you and it was all he needed. "Go and try finishing that dinner for me. But...maybe I will skip it and go for the special plate of the house"

You let out a small smile your face burning. "Go on, get on that shower first" You said leaving him to be "I will bring you a new set of fresh clothes"

"Thanks Love" Your Husband responded removing his shirt in order to get inside the shower, his mind already thinking on the idea of having you for himself once he removes the smell of these worms from himself.

And, oh how much he is going to enjoy every second of it.

[aventurinesweetheart]

「AND THEY WERE ROOMMATES..!?」

character: anaxa <33 genre: p0rn w/ plot summary: having anaxa as a roommate doesn’t go as planned. warnings: afab reader, modern au, reader is mentioned to smoke weed, anaxa is a lil shit, closet perv anaxa, panty stealing, masturbation, i believe in freaknaxa supremacy, uhm lazy ending but there will be a pt2 dw a/n: shout tf out to @astofofo for this idea omfg

     you first met anaxa when you’d posted the ad for a new roommate—the last one had ended up stealing some of your shit, and when you found out, and while you had been contemplating not renewing the lease with them, this was the final straw and cemented your decision.

     he seemed sensible enough, if not a little arrogant? or snarky.., but all around well rounded and exactly what you were looking for in a roommate—besides, he had mentioned that you two wouldn’t even have to interact at all, something that pleased you greatly considering how clingy your last roommate was and how tired you were. 

     little did you know that you would end up falling hard for mr. anaxagoras. 

     it started with small things—his mannerisms, the way he spoke, ..his good looks, obviously, how fucking smart he was?? even if he made you feel like a fucking idiot sometimes. even if he had a bit of a tendency, not to mansplain, but as you’ve begun affectionately calling it, anaxsplain. because you wholeheartedly believed he was just.. Like That. and that he would always anaxsplain regardless of his gender. 

     it wasn’t until things started going missing that you began to wonder if you’d made a mistake. but.. it wasn’t things your old roommate had stolen (like your weed, money, even some of your favorite clothes), no, it was something much more intimate this time.. 

     the first time your panties had disappeared, you just assumed you misplaced them…. until they showed up washed and in your drawer unprompted when you swear you looked there. ..it didn’t occur to you until a few months later, when this became a repeated offence that maybe your roommate had something to do with this..?

     no, surely not. he doesn’t seem like the type, right? he always paid his portion of the rent on time, made sure you paid yours on time, even cooked dinner for the both of you from time to time. a man like that had no business stealing your underwear….

     so, you simply deluded yourself into believing that it was some other factor for your magically disappearing and then reappearing, freshly washed panties..! 

     the first night you were out with a friend, though, you had told anaxa, just so somebody would know where you were and what you were doing while you were out and about. anaxa, of course, took note of this, and waited until at least half an hour after you were gone to stalk into your dark bedroom. god forgive him for what he’s about to do, but…. it really isn’t his fault! you were just so.. tempting! you may have fallen first, but anaxa fell harder. much harder than he’d like to admit.

     already in his casual wear for the evening, he sits on the edge of your bed, feeling the mattress dip beneath him as he imagines you sitting by his side—or maybe on his lap. either way, he thinks about the two of you kissing, slowly at first, building up to something much more heated. leaning back into the bedding, he can feel his blood starting to flow to his dick instead of his brain, and he lets out a quiet sigh before readjusting himself to lay in your bed fully so he can rest his head against your pillows. 

     slowly, one hand trails down his abdomen, pretending it was your fleeting touch, until it reaches the waistband of his sweatpants. god… should he really commit to the bit like this? 

     his cock twitches in response to his moral dilemma before he gives into his more perverse desires and uses both hands to tug his pants down to his knees, followed by his boxers, and he inhales sharply at the feeling of the cold air of your room hitting his sensitive and flushed cockhead. that part was on him, though… as of late, he’d taken to setting the thermostat to colder than it usually was, just to see your stiffened nipples through your shirt whenever you weren’t wearing a bra around the house.

     spitting into his hand—he wishes it was your saliva—he grasps his twitchy shaft before slowly starting to jerk it up and down…. 

     “mmh,” he hums softly, grateful that you had mentioned something about staying the night at a friend’s tonight. this would give him plenty of time to jork it and cover his tracks by washing your sheets! 

     truthfully speaking, he came much faster than he’d care to admit.. and then twice over. sure, he was a little overstimulated, but he doesn’t know when he'll get this chance again! he simply just took advantage of it, that's all. i mean, why wouldn’t he? when you were so…. he doesn’t have the words for it, and perhaps that was part of the reason he was enamored by you. 

     finishing himself off for the fourth and final time around one in the morning, he takes a long moment to merely lay there and recuperate so he could wash your bedspread clean of his sins. he even stays up the whole laundry cycle so he can make your bed to even neater than before he’d soiled your resting place. 

     he’s finally done around seven, and he’s quite pleased with himself this time. sure, he’d jerked himself off with your panties before, but that was in the privacy of his own bedroom. what he had done tonight was something else entirely…. 

     sitting on the edge of your bed once more, he falls back onto the comforter and closes his eyes as his pretty green hair sprawls out behind him and his breathing begins to slow. he was exhausted after tonight’s gooning session—not that he would EVER. refer to it as that—and couldn’t resist the temptation of sleep as a little smile tugs at the corners of his full lips.

     unfortunately for anaxa, you had come home around 9:30, stumbling to your room hungover as hell when you spotted him just laying there, on your freshly made bed. because you know you hadn’t washed your sheets in perhaps an embarrassing amount of time. oh wow. what were you supposed to do with this situation..? 

     deciding to let him rest and spare him the embarrassment, you make your way to the living room and crash on the couch until around noon. and whenever you woke up, you realized you had been covered with a blanket in your slumber—and the only person who could’ve done this was your roommate, of course. man…. he’d been oddly considerate recently, so.. maybe you should do something for him? ..but what? certainly something to think on.

     anaxa, who had woken from his nap about half an hour after you got home and passed out on the couch, quickly flees your room, gently shutting the door behind him, and silently prays you weren’t home yet—or that you at least hadn’t stopped by your room…… even if he knows that may be unlikely. okay, well at least there was no evidence of his jizz on your bedsheets, so you couldn’t exactly accuse him of anything other than missing you (and he did, but you weren’t allowed to know that).

     when he finds you asleep on the couch in the living room, he feels some sense of relief as he grabs a blanket from .. well, wherever y’all decided to store them before making his way over to your peaceful form and he can feel his heart clench a bit. … what an odd feeling. it was one he wasn’t used to, so he wasn’t sure how to interpret his feelings, but he did know that he needed to touch you… to dissect you and devour you whole. 

     a few days soon go by and you can feel a certain tension in the air beginning to thicken. ever since you found him conked out in your freshly made bed?? something had to be up. men don’t just fuckin’ wash your sheets and make your bed for you. not unless they wanted something from you, or perhaps just you yourself.

     then, one day, you both happened to be in the hallway at the same time—which would normally be fine except for the fact that, uhm. well, you really can’t help the way your eyes take in his half naked form—the way his towel is slung so low on his hips should be illegal.

     okay so clearly you had just caught him as he’d gotten out of the shower, which would be fine except for the fact that he had a noticeable boner through the thin fabric that was covering his dick, but not his prominent v–line. good lord he looked delicious.. suddenly you were overcome with the urge to lick him, and you can feel your mouth starting to pool with drool. damn!! take a breath, thirsty; he cannot know that you wish he’d give you a chance. 

     later that night though, you couldn’t help the way one of your hands snuck past the waistband of your panties and started toying with your clit—gently at first, just to tease yourself, until the image of a mostly naked anaxa popped into your mind, and all of sudden you found yourself jerking it to the thought of the erection you’d caught sight of earlier.

     “nngh,” you moan softly, momentarily forgetting about your thinner than you’d prefer walls as two of your fingers come to gather slick from your hopelessly empty cunt to further lubricate your clit. “‘n–naxa,” you whine, back arching a bit as you work yourself up to an orgasm.

     you don’t even notice the way your door slowly opens and how anaxa stands there ominously—silently listening to your whimpers and whines of his name, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t start palming his hardening dick at your pretty noises.

     “aa–aah!” you cum with a cry, hips lifting off the bed as you rub yourself through your orgasm, when you finally noticed that stupid green haired man standing there. what the fuck!? how long had he been there!?

     “an–anaxa!” you squeal, sitting up in bed and yanking your hand out from between your legs. “wh–what the fuck are you doing here!?” you ask him incredulously.

     “you aren’t exactly quiet, y’know,” he tells you bluntly. “i was going to offer my assistance since i noticed you eye fucking me earlier, but it seems you took care of yourself well enough,” he says indifferently, but secretly aching with the need to touch and fuck you. maybe.. just maybe if he played his cards right….. tonight could be the night..?

     “you— huh?” you say dumbfoundedly, jaw dropping. what!! what was he implying by that! “well— just hold on a second–!” oh, this was going to make for a great conversation...

HSR m.list | pt.2

[w2soneshots]

Reunited -W2S

words: 1.0k+

warnings: none.

summary: after not seeing your boyfriend for months you surprise him during a cheap vs expensive sidemen video.

notes: hello loves! Here’s the request💓. This is really fluffy and cute. I hope you enjoy!!🌺🫶🏼

For the past few months I've been in New York working on a very important deal for my company. Meaning that I haven't seen Harry in a long time. We facetime every night but it's obviously not the same and I really miss him. Thankfully though I have a week off and was planning on going back to the uk to surprise Harry but it turns out that he's going to be shooting for the sidemen abroad. So I decided to text Josh; since he's organising the whole video.

Josh and I made a plan. Harry was going to be on the good team for the cheap vs expensive video so I could surprise him at the destination instead. I loved the idea and he thought it would be great for the video. Tobi and Ethan will also be there along with Harry, which will be nice since I haven't seen them (or the rest of the boys) in ages.

I packed my suitcase and headed to the airport. When the plane landed I got in a taxi that took me to the villa. I said hello to Josh and the crew who were already there and Josh showed me to my room so I could freshen up since the other boys would be arriving in just a short amount of time.

Once I'd gotten changed into some more appropriate clothes for the hot weather, I went downstairs. "Hey." I sat down next to Josh, in the huge living room. He smiled at me, acknowledging my presence. "So, how are we gonna do this?" I asked. "Well, I thought you could just be standing there when they arrive. Harry's quite oblivious so I think it'll be funny since it'll probably take him a second to spot you," He explained. I nodded with a chuckle. "They should be here within the next twenty minutes." He added.

I was almost shaking with excitement and nerves as I waited. When the van pulled up outside a wide smile spread across my face. Me, Josh and the crew stood at the front door. The boys jumped out of the car and my heart practically skipped a beat at the sight of my boyfriend. We've been together for a year and are completely in love so not being with him twenty four seven has been torture. I couldn't wait to hug him, feel his lips on mine and see his cute little smile.

All three of them walked up the concrete path and when his eyes met mine he stopped in his tracks. His mouth dropped open in utter shock. "y/n! What are you doing here!" Ethan and Tobi walked towards me with excitement. But I barely noticed them. Harry finally clicked back into reality, he quickly ran towards me, wrapping me in a bear hug. My eyes fluttered closed, savouring the moment. "Hey." I whispered softly. He sniffed. I could immediately tell he was getting upset but that he was trying not to embarrass himself in front of all the cameras.

As we pulled away I smiled at him, tears forming in my eyes that I'd been holding in. "How are you here? What-" he stumbled, his voice cracking. "I managed to get a week off work and when I realised you'd be filming I thought it'd be a fun surprise." I answered him. "So earlier when you didn't answer me-" "I was on a plane." I cut in. The boys let us have a moment so stepped inside and began filming the boy's reaction to the massive villa.

Since there wasn't anyone watching Harry brought me into a soft kiss. "Fuck. I missed you so much." He whispered, our lips just millimetres apart. "I missed you too Haz and I really missed those lips." I joked. He chuckled. "You look so beautiful." He complemented, looking me up and down. "So do you." I winked at him with a cheeky grin. His eyes sparkled.

They finished filming the video and we all decided to get in the pool. Me and Harry headed to our shared room to get into some swimwear. I grabbed a bikini from my suitcase then quickly slipped it on. I turned around to see Harry sat at the end of the bed staring at my body.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry." His eyes flickered back up to my face. I giggled, walking towards him and standing between his legs. His hands immediately landed on my hips. "Come on, everyone's waiting." I slid from his grasp then walked towards the door, he quickly followed.

I sat with my legs dangling in the pool as I spoke to Tobi, telling him all about my time in New York. "So how long have you got left out there? The parties are a lot more boring without you." Tobi asked. I smiled. "Thankfully I'm completely finished next month and I can come back to the uk, all of my coworkers are at least forty and have kids so there's no gossip, no parties, basically nothing fun. It's so boring." I replied.

"Harry's been in such an awful mood since you left. I bet he's so excited for you to come back." He added. I felt slightly guilty but Harry had been assuring me that he was okay every time we'd called.

After having some dinner everyone said good night and left for their bedrooms. Me and Harry shared a quick shower to wash the chlorine off of our bodies. Both of us were exhausted and boiling so we put some underwear on and slipped into the king sized bed. Harry wrapped his arm around me, pulling me into him. He let out a soft, content sigh.

"I was speaking with Tobi earlier and he said you'd been struggling, are you sure you're gonna be okay without me for another month?" I asked. He moved so he could see my face. "I'll be okay. It's just been weird coming home to an empty apartment every day." "I know. I feel the exact same, it's so lonely in New York." I replied softly. He kissed my forehead. "One more month." He whispered. "Mhm. Just one month." I echoed.

[dearggntlereader]

Nr.10 Songs that just won't leave your mind ༻¨ : ·.. ｡⋆⍋*｡

Ekko x reader CW: cursing, probs OOC, picture does not represent the readers looks

Ekko doesn’t like Christmas. At least, not anymore.

Christmas isn’t really a thing in the lanes because the adults are too busy surviving with their various forms of trouble, mostly addiction, and the Children don’t remember it from the pre-Silco times.

At his little hide-out Christmas exists.

If you can even call it that.

Scar always does his best but there are no presents because they can’t afford any which means there’s no Santa clause, since Santa’s whole being is based around gifts.

They don’t have a Christmastree, instead decorating their big Tree, not with red and gold baubles or pine cones but with berries tied together on a string and some paper ornaments that scream self-made.

And while there is no snow it’s still so fucking cold, which means Ekko has to work overtime trying to get materials for blankets and to tinker together some form of heating system.

You, however, love Christmas.

Obviously, you prefer the old Christmas. The one where your parents sang Songs with you and held you close while you drank hot cocoa. Where you got a new sweater or fixed Socks, instead of a little kid tugging at your pants.

But how could you hate Christmas when said kid is giving you his small “Christmas Note” that’s really a leaf from the tree with his wiggly handwriting on it telling you that you’ve got a nice smile.

You and scar started a little Tradition everyone gave everyone a note with something nice or told them directly, so each year you spend the days around Christmas reading through your Notes and trying to tell by the handwriting who it’s from.Wic

Apart from that, Christmas means no work. (Except for that one time you had to destroy some Shimmer, last minute)

Ekko completely ignores that rule.

It’s gone so far that you should know not to bother him on Christmas, but you’re dating now which means you actively chose to bother him.

This leads to him working while you’re sitting on his bed, singing some songs you still remember. You stand up as you belt out the song particularly vivid in your memory, “Last Christmas, I gave you my heart! But the very next day, you nah nah nah naah!!”

Maybe not that vivid after all.

As you twirl around mid-song, now dancing next to Ekko, he stops his tinkering. His eyes meet yours and you can just feel the happiness he’s trying to hide behind his annoyance.

“Your voice could scare away Silco himself,” he grumbles, the fondness in his Voice betraying him.

You let out a loud, carefree laugh. The kind that makes you throw your head back and contort your face without thinking of the way you look, “Maybe I need to start bringing a microphone to battles, instead of guns.”

“Maybe you should.”

His soft smile only vanishes when you leave his room hours later to ask Scar a question.

Thank you all for supporting my blog!! As always, I appreciate all comments and reblogs. It's what keeps me going.

Comment to be added to the taglist: @dustie-faerie

[pumpkinologists]

Missing You

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer misses you and will do anything to distract himself from the feeling

Warnings: Smut, Phone sex (kinda), Self pleasuring

Notes: Here's a little something to kick off the end of my accidental year hiatus!

Crossposted on Ao3

Enjoy!

Spencer was tired. He was tired of being away from you for so long, and all he wanted was to be wrapped up in bed with you, watching some stupid show that was way too predictable. He missed your body heat against him and the way you sometimes mumbled in your sleep. 

The hotel room he stayed in seemed so cold and empty, no matter how much he turned up the space heater. The sheets of bed wrapped around his body; usually he wouldn’t even touch the sheets, but right now, he was utterly frigid. He was so cold, infact, that he swore he could feel his toes going numb. He wished you were there to warm him up. But you weren't. 

He was on the opposite side of the country from you, and you couldn’t take it right now. So, instead of randomly calling you, he texted you like a madman. He sent you text after text about how much he missed you and how much he just wished he could call you right now. He wanted to talk to you about the case he had just finished in person or over the phone, whichever came first, but really he just wanted to talk to you. He didn’t want to send measly texts anymore, and he wanted to see your face. But it was two in the morning, and he knew you probably wouldn’t respond.

Until you did. His face lit up when he got the notification; his expectations for your response were low, but he responded immediately after, and you did the same. Spencer was overjoyed that you had responded; he didn’t even stop to think about why you were awake. When he got your text asking him if he wanted to call, he couldn’t even respond before your caller ID screen popped up on his phone. 

 “Hi.” A wide grin was spread across your dimly lit face. “Hi.” If even possible, Spencer's grin was even wider than yours, and his heart pounded at the sight of your face alone. He couldn’t believe the beauty on the other end of the line was actually his girlfriend. He sat in silence, something he didn’t do often around you, and simply stared at the face he wished to hold. 

“What are you doing right now?” You started, snapping him out of his trance, “Oh! Uh, well, I was just thinking about you and also freezing my toes off.” You snorted and laughed, a longing look crossing your face.

“I miss you. Like a  lot." He sighed and nodded along to your words, “I miss you too. I can’t stop thinking about you.” Spencer could have sworn the room had gone up a few notches in temperature when he answered your call, but it still wasn’t nearly the same as when you next called him. 

“I miss you too. I wish I had teleportation powers or just a really fast method of transport.” He rambled, trying to get the dreadful, yearning feeling to leave his brain. His stomach was like a pit; he felt empty without your presence. Typically, cases would be done in a couple of days, but this particular one was stale and had just been finished, so he was gone longer than usual. 

He heard your sigh come from his phone. “I do too. I think that you should invent it; y'know, you probably could if you thought about it long enough.” Spencer loved when you added to his thoughts, even when his thoughts were just rambling. “Well, maybe I could think of it, but it would probably be really hard to get it passed and actually put into use.” 

You chuckled. “You don’t have to get it passed; you can just use it yourself. Besides, I think your jet is fast enough as it is; any faster and the force might make your face melt.” Spencer shrugged and nodded, looking around his room, searching for another distraction rather than talking. He hated this feeling so much that he considered leaving his room to get away.

“Hey, Spence Are you okay?” He looked at his phone; your eyebrows were furrowed, and concern spread thickly across your face. “I just miss you so much. Its like theres a huge, you-shaped hole in my chest.” He saw you frown as you thought of what to say: “I miss you too. Is there anything I can do other than talk to distract you?” 

He swallowed thickly and thought, “I’m not sure. Nothing really comes to mind. I mean, I could play online chess, but that wouldn't help. Or maybe I could.” Spencer was cut off by your words, “Or you could touch yourself.” 

It was a matter-of-fact statement. You had no doubts in your voice; it was a real suggestion. Spencer couldn't believe how forward you were. His mouth stayed agape as he stared at his phone. It wasn’t necessarily a bad idea, and it was actually a pretty good one, but he just wasn’t sure. 

“I could. But I think there might be someone in the room next to mine. I could get a noise complaint if I’m too loud.” He saw your eyes move in thought. “I don’t think so. Besides, you can just stay a little quieter than usual.” Spencer nodded in agreement and gulped. 

“It won’t be the same without you.” He pouted, and his hand reached to grab himself over his trousers. You smiled as you listened to him talk; you could hear the ruffle of his pants on the other side. “It’s not your soft hand or your mouth, for that matter.” He let out a small whimper as his hand traced the outline of his hardening cock. 

Spencer's voice grew higher, his heart starting to race. “I wish I could see your face in person; the real thing is so much better.” His voice was shaky, and his eyes squinted as they looked at you. His hand was now completely in his pants, and on his underwear formed a small wet patch of his pre-cum. 

His hand was fully wrapped around himself as he now slowly moved his hand up and down, not enough to fully stimulate himself but enough for him to take it slow. Spencer loved slow. He didn’t like rough and fast, but he loved gentle and slow more than anything. 

“I want to kiss you so bad,” he heard you say. Frankly, he forgot that you were also able to speak; he was more focused on your face, forgetting that it was actually a call and not just a picture, and when he heard your voice, he grew impossibly harder. “Keep talking, please.” 

You smiled and let out a breath. “You’re so cute when you’re touching yourself, y’know?” Spencer groaned, his naked cock hitting the cold air. Spencer had forgotten how cold he was in the beginning, but right now it feels so good on his blushing, hot skin. He whined, his lip in between his teeth, and he tried to stay as quiet as possible.  

“God, I need you so bad.” His voice was only a little above a whisper, and his voice was whiny. “I know, Spence; you’ll see me tomorrow.” He frowned and made a noise in frustration. “But it’s not the same; I want to see you now.”  

His hand continued to stroke leisurely, but he needed something more. He let go of his cock, raised his hand up to his mouth, and spit on it. The spit dripped onto him, and he whimpered in pleasure. “It feels so good.” You nodded and smirked. “I know, keep going,” you said, nodding with a pout on your face. “I just wish it was you doing this instead of me. You’re so much better at it.” 

The pout on his face soon dissolved into a look of pure pleasure as he rubbed his hand on the head of his cock. His mouth dropped open, and a moan slipped out. It wasn’t very loud, yet he still cut himself off by biting his lip. 

“You can make noise,” you said. He shook his head, still focused on his pleasure. “It’s embarrassing if they hear,” you pouted, “but I want you too.” It was whiny and persuasive. “Okay. Just a little.” You smiled at his response. 

Spencer's moans continued to fill the room, and the pace of his hand continued to get faster. He was getting close, and you knew it. “What are you imagining?" You decide to ask with genuine curiosity. “You.” He said it dumbly. "Yes, but what exactly?” He whined and spoke, “Your mouth.” He paused to let out another pleasured sound, “on my cock.” 

You giggled at his response and continued to watch the way his face twisted in rapture. He was close now; he spit on his hand again and stroked himself even faster than before. “I’m so close,” he muttered into the air. “You got it; keep going.” You encouraged him charmingly. With that, his breath hitched, and a loud moan left his mouth, followed by a cacophony of strung-out swears and noises. 

His panting was fast and in tune with the beating of his heart. Coming down from his high was always an amazing yet disappointing feeling. He swallowed the drool that pooled in his mouth and looked down at the phone screen. “I suppose I should clean myself up now.” He was still breathless. 

“I suppose you should.” You agreed. He rubbed his face with his now-free hand, the cum that was spattered all over his stomach somehow completely avoided it. “Did that help?” You asked, hopefully. “As much as I hate to say it, I really think that just made me miss you even more.”