#literally an going to make this to put on my wall... somehow

[whotaku-starr]

I.. I need to make Him

For real I'ma have him up on my wall before the year is over

[todayisafridaynight]

no ones ever gonna understand how much i love daigo doin this stupid shit after dissolving the tojo

[faramirsonofgondor]

AU where Dick gets de-aged and thinks that Jason is Bruce because they look really similar, and Jason is the around the age Bruce was when Dick was that age. When everyone tries explaining the situation to Dick he doesn’t really get it because he was de-aged to a time when his English isn’t great and he doesn’t understand as much about time/dimension travel and all that. Like Dick is smart enough to grasp that there’s something different about the situation and he can tell the small differences between his Bruce and Jason but he still doesn’t really get it and just decides that Jason is the next best thing until he gets his Bruce back. And every time the real Bruce says that he’s Bruce, Dick just shakes his head and goes “My Bruce isn’t old.” or “My Bruce doesn’t have gray hair.” or something like that. Eventually everyone just gives up trying to explain it all and lets him think whatever he wants.

They decide to let Jason handle him, mostly because Dick hisses anytime anyone else comes near. Jason, who remembers Bruce constantly singing Dick’s praises, and who has heard everyone speak about Dick as though he’s an angel, thinks this is going to be a walk in the park. It is not. Jason looks away for one moment and Dick’s climbing the walls (literally - not metaphorically). He goes to the bathroom and somehow Dick managed to climb out the window and is halfway downtown. He tries to sleep and Dick is in his room like a creepy ass ninja - staring down at him, waiting for something (Dick had a nightmare). He breathes and suddenly Dick is ranting about killing his parents’ murderer. He tries to help Dick with his English and the kid starts making up words. He decides that they should patrol so that Dick can let some of his energy out, and suddenly there’s a maniacal cackle and he’s surrounded by goons that were taken down in the most brutal sense (are those bite marks???)

Jason finally decides to push his pride aside and talk to Alfred and Bruce about, only for them to act like this is completely fucking normal??? Alfred even laughs at him and tells him that he’s lucky he doesn’t own a chandelier and only lives in a studio apartment. So, Jason tries to get help from some of Dick’s other friends, who do stop by and visit, but do NOT help and just say “good luck with that”??? Even the older members of the Justice League are no help. The only person who even offers to help Jason is DEATHSTROKE of all people, and Jason is almost desperate enough to consider it. It all ends when Jason finds a solution to the whole de-aging thing because he’s so tired of trying to take care of child Dick. Except Jason’s suffering doesn’t end because whenever he tries to talk about what kid Dick put him through, Dick tries to GASLIGHT HIM??? If Jason hears the words “It wasn’t that bad” one more time, he’s going to de-age that little shit again and drop him off on everyone else’s doorstep and see how much they like it.

[beast-of-the-void]

.

[angelsafa]

My void success story

Hello everyone,

I fckn entered the void yesterday what the hell!! Tbh I've always had the feeling that I would somehow make it, because I belive in myself and because I control my reality (and you do too). Anyways, I am literally shaking while typing this because, even tho I knew I was gonna make it, I didn't expect it to happen so soon, in my third attempt. So here's the thing:

In saturday 7th of june one of my favourite f1 drivers came to do a roadshow. Basically show his car in this new track and stuff. Anyways, I was so so excited and kept affirming it was going to be a great day and stuff, which honestly was, but there was a little problem. When he got closer to the railing and next to the fans I had the amazing luck of being in the front row and being able to see him closely. And here's the thing. I kinda still doubted myself and didn't expect myself to be so close to him that day, so I haven't brought anything that he could sign on for me, and the phone was with my sister which was far away, so not even a photo !! So I had to conform with simply watch him closely while everyone got their things signed and photos and stuff. When he walked away and stuff, I felt so so dissapointed and sad, so I got to one of the bathrooms and started crying. Like raw crying. You guys cannot realize how much I cried that afternoon. And I kept blaming my strict parents for not letting me borrow the phone that day. When we got home my sister and me I honestly could not stare into my parents and not cry or get angry, so I went to sleep early that day. I cried. A lot. And then fall asleep. The next day while I was having breakfast I've decided that I was done with blaming everyone and being sad and angry. And I said to myself "Well, Safa, you know LOA, you know shifting, you know revising and you know the void. You can simply wake up with a new phone with a picture of you and him there, and a shirt signed literally on your wall. You have been procrastinating manifesting your dream life, so it's time for taking action again." And well, the rest is history. I decided that I would be entering the void that night and change some things of my life, like my strict parents or the small house I used to live in, or some appearence changes (which tbh with you guys I was already too pretty so I didn't care a lot about it but still) or more money. So I did it. The night came so I did the most basic method, kinda mixed with the distraction method. I laid on my side because I honestly thing it's more comfortable than the back, I focused on my breathing and then let my toughts and even a song pass by. I didn't force anything or be desperate, I simply got sick of the shitty life I was living in and I decided. Guys this is the key. Decide.

Don't try, don't attempt, don't hope.

Decide.

Decide that you're getting into the void. Decide that you're shifting. Decide that you have that life. Because you do. You already have it. You do. You don't have to worry. Everything else? Is past. That's simply who you no longer identify with. It's old story. That doesn't matter anymore. You are no longer that person. You've decided that you have your dream life? Then the 3D has no choice but to reflect. It's a literal mirror.

Anyways, I entered the void after some minuts and holy shit, I didn't know it was that easy. People put it in the pedastal. It's so fucking easy but I was procrastinating and stuff. Anyways, today when I woke up I did with my dream life. Guys I still cannot belive it. It's overwhelming. I literally woke up with an Iphone 16 pink under my pillow, in my dream bedroom in my dream room and dream house!! But the most important thing, my fucking white shirt (the one I decided to), was hanging in my wall with the driver's sign!!! Guys I'm crying. Literally crying. It's so fucking wholesom.

Anyways I just wanted to say this is your sign to not give up because I literally did it in the third attempt.

You got this. You're a master manifesting and shifting.

Lots of love,

Safa

[homunculus-argument]

If there's one thing no professional interior designer can ever truly emulate, it's maximalism. Sure, you can put together a bold and loud-coloured room with daring patterns and a creative colour scheme, and a cute and quirky gallery wall with a fun and funky theme to it, but a real maximalist home always has some element that is simply fucked up. Like the ugliest goddamn piece of furniture you've ever seen, some piece of decor that makes you wonder why the fuck would anyone want that in their house. Your eyes land on it and your instant reaction is "thanks, I hate it." And it's at home in this household, it literally could not fit in and look like it belongs anywhere else.

That's the spirit of maximalism. Someone's instinctive talent of locating the most hideous kitchy porcelain hippo lamp that anyone has ever seen, and going "ooh, your place is in my living room."

And miraculously, somehow being correct.

[v4mpvelocity]

KANG DAE-HO X READER NSFW HEADCANNONS

pairing: Kang Dae-Ho x female reader

SMUT MDNI

A/N : literally my man sigh, all of these headcannons start sfw with how you met kinda but the rest IS nsfw

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who put his life on the line to ensure your safety during red light green light. Pushing you behind him and shielding you with his body when Gi-Hun said for those who were smaller to get behind someone bigger.

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who you have been close to ever since, relying on eachother for survival in the games, a bond forming between you both. Although, as the games progressed that bond went beyond mutual effort to keep eachother alive. Eye contact that would last longer than for those who were just friends, lingering touches, unspoken words.

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who would do anything to protect you and ensure your well-being. Always keeping you at arms length whether it be making you sit next to him or keeping an arm around your shoulders. Hugs after games, sharing beds, sharing food, there was much more than just friendship going on between the both of you, and you both knew it.

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who's willing to fight somebody if they disrespect you, whether your around or not. His protective instincts working overdrive as he feels a primal need to declare you as his, making sure everybody knows it.

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who thrusts into you softly from behind when everyone is asleep, his strong arms keeping you close to his chest as he presses kisses to the side of your face. His thick cock filling you deliciously with each thrust, the tip kissing your cervix.

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who puts your needs before his, ensuring that youve finished at least twice before even putting his cock in to make sure that your prepped enough. Holding you to his chest as you whine whilst he slides his dick into your tight hole, stretching you to the point where you feel as if your being split in half.

'Mm shh...shh honey.... almost all the way in... that's it, good girl...taking it so well'

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who talks you through it, murmuring softly in your ear as you whimper and whine, trying to stay quiet as his cock abuses your oversensitive pussy. Softly caressing your tits with one hand as the other rubs circles on your clit, only intention to bring you the most pleasure he can.

'That feel good, hm? yeah? such a good girl?' or 'You want it harder honey? hmm..shh..shhh ive got you sweetie'

Kang Dae-ho, the man who has your legs spread at an almost embarrassing angle in the squid game bathrooms, but somehow manages to make you feel as if you were the most gorgeous being known to man. Pouring his love and affection for you into every thrust, eyes locked with yours as if he were proving his love for you through actions and unspoken words. Making the most vulgar words seem as if they were written by the gods themselves, as if it were angels singing praises from up above.

'Thats it honey, keep bouncing on that cock...fuckk..such a good girl' or 'So fuckin' beautiful.....my beautiful girl'

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who whines when he cums, and hes not ashamed of it either. His thrusts speeding up as his cock drives into you with an unfathomable speed, abusing your gummy walls. Hands gripping your hips as he pounded into your pussy, balls smacking against your ass causing the sound of skin on skin to echo throughout the room. He 100% has a breeding kink and will want to cum in you with any chance he gets, but if thats not your thing thats ok with him too!

'Fuckk..fuckkk...gonna cum honey....where you want it baby? you want me to fill you up hm? yeah? good girl.' or

'Fuckk....please can i cum in you baby......lemme fuck a baby into you.'

Kang Dae-Ho, the man who is the biggest softie and amazing at aftercare, ensuring you feel worshipped and loved before running you a hot bubble bath and lighting some candles. Providing you with anything you may need food, water you name it he'll get it for you. Then after he'll hold you close, ensuring your asleep before he can finally drift off.

[kaisaerinlover]

the kaisaerinsagi rivalry goes so hard like imagine dating them (seperate of course) and you’re out wearing one of their jerseys whilst you’re shopping, and they all have a number one on their jerseys (3 number 10s 😭😭) so the press mistakes you as one of the other’s girlfriend instead of his and he gets soo mad.

imagine sae’s reaction to the public thinking you’re dating isagi or someone, he wouldn’t even be mad just jealous. “huh? how can anyone even get me and that lukewarm striker confused. our jerseys aren’t even the same colour.” he’s genuinely baffled, and he’s not trying to be insulting either; he’s just speaking his truth. he knows you’re his, but he’s so lost at how they could ever confuse you as the girlfriend of one of those other 3 idiots. his face is just blank, the same as always, and you just laugh a bit. and he’s even more confused now, what’s so funny? “why are you laughing?” he would ask, whilst giving you that same blank stare. oh sae itoshi PLEASE never change. you just laugh again and pinch his cheeks like he’s a baby and give him a kiss. “no reason, love you” he just rolls his eyes at you and pecks your cheek back. “i’m being serious, you know.” itoshi sae never change please you’re too cute.

rin would be the opposite, having everyone thinking you were dating isagi or sae especially makes him so angry. “tsk, those lukewarm idiots. how tepid. why would you ever date someone as low level and shit as them. fucking stupid.” he’s seething, to put it very very lightly. he’s holding you against the wall as you’re still in his jersey, giving YOU the dead eye, as if you somehow orchestrated this huge misunderstanding. rin is a jealous guy, he really is; and the only thing he truly won for himself is you. so when it’s even suggested you could be in the hands of those other two losers he feels his insides tie themselves up into a knot of pure and unbridled anger. “r-rin you’re hurting meee” you whine up at him as he presses you against the wall harder and bites at your fragile neck. “no, need to show everyone you’re mine” oh rin-rin, you’re so jealous. he is truly the cutest. with those killer eyes but really cute pout and the way his hair falls over his face making him look like a stupid emo, itoshi rin you will never win the idgaf war.

isagi wouldn’t be as mad, he would be a bit of both, confused but a little jealous. “how can they even mistake the number 11 for any of THEIR numbers anyway???” he’s so confused, everyone is contemplating whether you’re dating him, kaiser, sae or rin. it’s obviously him? come on, he is number 11 and only him and kaiser share the same jersey as of now, how stupid? he’s following you around the house like a puppy asking you these questions nonstop, you can tell he’s jealous. he has his cute scowl as he’s asking. “yoichi i really don’t know-“ he interrupts you. “maybe your hair was covering the other 1? that has to be it. fine, next time don’t leave the house without a ponytail or i’ll-“ you just shut him up with a kiss, and when you pull away you giggle up at him. “i know i know, you don’t gotta be so jealous y’know, next time i go out i’ll make sure to show off your number ‘kay yoichi?” and he’s happy with that. isagi yoichi’s smile is so precious, it really is. he pulls you in for another kiss. “yeah, okay, want everyone to know you’re my girlfriend only.” even his jealousy is cute. isagi is simply just the cutest boyfriend in the world.

kaiser would not be like the others. if rin’s anger was nasty imagine kaiser’s, he would be literally losing his mind. sitting in his fancy robe sipping champagne with his glasses whilst having ness next to him, using the tv remote to go through all of the posts and theories being posted online. kaiser is madddd mad. he slams his fist down on the arm of the chair and growls a bit. “really, yoichi? fucking yoichi? and that shithead from pxg who can’t even keep his tongue in his mouth? the other itoshi brother? please, when i get into re al all he’s going to be doing is feeding me passes anyway” he scoffs. and ness diligently nods. “yeah, they’re all shit, shitty trash and below you kaiser!” and as kaiser sends ness off to go pour him another glass, you walk into the room. it’s just you two now, and boy is he angry. “have you fucking seen this, prinzessin? what insanity this is” he laughs a little. but he’s not humoured, you really love kaiser but jesus christ he acts like a fucking psycho sometimes. “i have” he just looks at you annoyed again, but still wearing that freakish smile. ew. “and why did you let your hair cover MY number? MY name? are you not proud to wear the jersey of a prodigy? are you fucking stupid or something.” he’s so condescending, pulling your hair again now. “m-micha- was an accident- was windy- c’mon stop- won’t happen again” and he releases his grip just a bit. he takes a sip of the very last droplets of champagne in his glass and looks at you again. “mmm, sorry engel, you know how i get, just love you soo much” he coos at you sweetly. and you fall for it every time. “it’s okay love you too micha.” and you really do know how he gets, as you walk past the room, you brush past ness a bit as he’s bringing kaiser back another bottle of champagne. you shudder, you’ve heard how your boyfriend treats that boy sometimes, you’re thankful you’re on the receiving end of his sweetness and not whatever that is. poor guy, you think as you walk out and shut the door behind you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Cliche but imagine Bob’s trying his hardest to confess to you, seeing as how everyone is on his ass about how oblivious he is with his feelings, literally heart eyes and looking at you as though everything else didn’t matter type of thing.

However while that might sound easy enough to the rest of the group, they’re literally the ones preventing Bob from confessing in the first place with how often they interrupt him, and or ruin the mood set in place with their entrance.

John tells Bob that he should ask you on a date, Bob then later tries to ask you out on a date to a nearby bookstore that also acted as a cafe, only for John to fucking walking in and say ‘have you done it yet?’ Mood ruined.

Alexei tells Bob that he should just go for it and be confident when doing so, And so Bob tries to do it that way when you and him were making breakfast for the rest of the team, only for Alexei to hover over the doorway like a weirdo as a massive smile paints his face as he asks. ‘Is my ship finally sailing as the young people call it these days?’ Or ‘have you kissed them yet?! I’m not getting any younger!’ (I would’ve put ‘are you winning son’ but thought against it)

Yelena tries to be helpful too by telling Bob to wait for his golden opportunity to confess to you, yet again while that sounded great at first, but when poor Bob is convinced that this moment where you two were on the roof of the tower simply watching over the bustling city. The mood was right, the conversation was flowing as it should to naturally transition to a confession that was on the tip of his tongue. Only for Yelena to ruin it when Houdini -the guinea pig- decided to be rebellious and break out from her room, somehow ending up on the roof where you and Bob heard her trying and cursing as she attempted to recapture the animal.

Ava does something similar to Yelena but just as Bob had gotten past saying ‘I’ve got something to tell you’ after walking you back to your room after movie night, it was a romcom, only for Ava to phase through the wall, look at the both of you before phasing through another wall to get to her room.

Poor Bob was growing frustrated and needless to say in a moment of spontaneity and general tiredness of being interrupted by the very same people who had pester him into confessing for weeks now, he just grabs your face and kisses you, pulls away and walks out of the room with a red face as he realised what he had just done. He doesn’t regret it but he didn’t think he’d have it in him to just do something so boldly.

Apparently it was the same for the rest of the team as they were all slack jawed at the display, but you were happy and on cloud nine to care.

[roseyuri]

◟  𐀶 .. ⠀AERI AND HER NONCHALANT GF aeri uchinaga x reader

✟ paring idol!aeri uchinaga x famous nepo baby reader | fluff ✮ warnings (swearing, aeri and yn are “friends”)

★ ͘ ⴰ GISELLE BEING DOWN BAD FOR YN (and yn being annoyingly nonchalant) FOR 10 MINUTES | 1.4M views

#✿! . . .CLIP ONE (ig live)

aeri tugged at the sleeves of her oversized shirt, reading the scrolling comments with a lazy smile. “i’m so hungry, guys. give me some food recs,” she said, voice half dramatic. she laughs at the crazy food suggestions that fans give her, “you guys aren’t helping.”

leaning against the wall, she ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “I’m bored. like... has anyone else just been bored lately? there’s literally nothing to do.”

user#1 she’s bored because yn has been in paris for the last two weeks and hasn’t visited korea yet

aeri caught the comment mid-scroll, eyes widening slightly. she didn’t read it out loud, just pressed a hand to her mouth and turned her face out of frame, laughing quietly.

the sound of a door opening makes aeri put her head back into the frame her face alarmed, “uh…” she trails off, “guys what was that, I’m supposed to be alone.”

she brings her knees to her chest, mouthing what the fuck when foot steps are heard in the background, “guys I have no survival skills, oh my god.”

the door of aeri’s room opens and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“what’s wrong with you?”

just the voice alone makes the chat speed up.

user#1 YN??

user#2 giselle got so scared just for it to be yn 😭

user#3 no one gonna talk about how that means yn has keys to the dorms…

“you scared me!” aeri exclaimed looking up from where she was sitting at yn who was standing at her door with a food bag in her head, she turned her phone to showcase the girl who just stared at her.

“whatever, I brought food.” yn rolled her eyes at aeri and walked over to sit beside the idol.

yn barley acknowledged the camera giving it a small wave before opening up the take out, while aeri looks at her with heart eyes.

#✿! . . .CLIP TWO ( fan taken video)

the video started off blurry, filmed from the side, but slowly zoomed in on the floor section of the concert where yn and aeri were standing along with other celebrities.

tyler’s voice echoed from the stage in the background as yn adjusted her glasses, swaying gently to the music. she tried her best to avoid the camera aeri had shoved in her face, switching between dramatic angles and close ups like a chaotic director.

#✿! . . .CLIP THREE ( paparazzi video )

the video picked up just as the two stepped out of a black van, flashes going off immediately. aeri blinked through the bright lights, one hand coming up to shield her face, the other instinctively reaching for yn’s sleeve, she knew la paparazzi could be bad, but not this bad.

yn, on the other hand, looked entirely unbothered hood up, hands in her pockets, and a bored expression that somehow made the cameras focus hard.

aeri gripped yn’s sleeve as hard as she could as the hole guided her towards the chrome hearts store, she whispered something in the ear which only had the girl pull her a little closer causing a big smile to make its way to aeri’s face.

#✿! . . .CLIP FOUR ( ig live )

yn had her knees pulled to her chest, hoodie sleeves covering her hands, while aeri rested her arm casually across them, her head slightly tilted as she leaned in. soft rock played faintly in the background, clearly yn’s playlist, judging by the dreamy guitar riffs and faded vocals.

they were scrolling through the comments when yn paused, squinting at the screen.

“‘yn what’s your favorite movie by your mom?’” she read out loud, voice calm and a little raspy. she leaned her chin on her knee as she thought.

“the virgin suicides,” she said after a beat. “that was the first one I ever watched. I was pretty young, but… I don’t know. it just stuck with me. the mood, the colors, the stillness of it. I fell in love with it even before I understood it.”

as yn spoke, eyes reflecting something distant, aeri just stared. not at the camera, not at the comments, just at yn. she looked completely entranced, like the world had fallen away and only this moment existed.

“you look like your mom’s movies,” aeri said softly, like it slipped out without her meaning to.

yn blinked, turning her head to look at her. “what?”

aeri didn’t elaborate. just shrugged with a little smile, “you do. like… you just look like how her movies would look if it was a person.”

yn rolled her eyes, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly. “stop being weird.”

user#1 help she’s in love

user#2 yn doesn’t realize how much of a compliment being told you look like a sofia coppola movie is

user#3 she wants her so bad omg

user#4 yn yk you want to smile stop being nonchalant

#✿! . . .CLIP FIVE ( that one photo dump that giselle posted)

[nottswitch]

sisters bf!theo would so stick his fingers in your mouth while doing doggy to shut you up bc you tried suggesting that you two should stop hooking up when he’s literally pounding into you

꒰ sister’s bf!theo shuts you up when you suggest ending your situationship ꒱

cw: 18+ mdni, cheating, p in v, fingers in the mouth, slight gagging, spanking, mentions of blood, degradation, cursing

a/n: haven’t written in more than two weeks, so forgive me is this is a little rusty, but !!! i missed sister’s bf!theo so much, and my hands have been itching to write some more for the bastard

⋆˚꩜｡

it always came in waves, like a tsunami that the coast guard failed to warn about – the scalding hot shame, the guilt you felt whenever you sister’s boyfriend’s cock stretched you out in ways you’d never have imagined if it wasn’t for him. it was wild, the things theo did to your body, making it crave him more and more after every stolen encounter in your room, when your sister wasn’t around – or even if she was, to be honest; in her room, busy with her college homework, or in the shower, unaware of what was happening on the other side of the wall.

but tonight, you were in luck – she went out on a girl’s night with her friends, and theo wasted no time. the second he texted her an ‘i love you, baby, take care’, he was out of the door, in his car, and then, ten minutes later – in your bed. you were on your hands and knees before you knew it, but your face wasn’t pushed into the pillows this time – no, when your sister wasn’t around, theo wanted to hear you. he needed to know how fucked out you were, how good he was making you feel. at the back of your mind, you were aware it wasn’t really about your pleasure, it was much more about stroking his ego, but… you couldn’t bring yourself to care, not when his cock was sliding in and out, making you drip all over your thighs and the sheets, making you–

fuck. why did theo have to leave his phone on the bed, right next to you? did he do that on purpose? you wouldn’t even put it past him. the screen lit up with a notification. a text from your sister, a ‘love you too’, and there it was again – the guilt, the shame, everything all at once, crushing down. theo didn’t even look – he was too busy watching your ass bounce with each of his thrusts, and the screen dimmed in a few moments, untouched and ignored.

"we–" no, you couldn’t string a coherent sentence together, you felt too fucking amazing to think. theo barely heard a word somewhere between your shameless moans, but didn’t pay attention. his hand came down on your asscheek with a sharp slap as he was enjoying the freedom of being as noisy as he wanted. plus, the spanking always made a good job of shutting you up, and he didn’t want you to talk right now – he only wanted the moans and the whimpers.

but for some reason, you just couldn’t let it go. maybe it was because for the first time, you saw the evidence of your sister’s love for theo while he was balls deep inside of you. maybe you’ve just been suppressing it for too long. but when theo’s cock hit your cervix and a jolt of pained pleasure shot through your body, you managed to breathe out: “weshouldn’tbedoingthis.”

“what?”

theo had absolutely no idea what you had just said, because your pussy clenched around him at the same exact moment, squeezing his cock to the point he nearly came on the spot. but he managed to hold off, his hand digging into your ass to steady himself. "the fuck you just said, piccola? why are you even talking?” he muttered in-between breathless pants, his hips snapping to your body with increased speed.

"we shouldn’t–” god, it was hard, talking while you were being railed mindless by a man whose purpose was to stop you from talking. "we shouldn’t be doing… this…” somehow, the words finally came out, followed by another string of lewd, loud sounds from your mouth.

you could hear theo sigh behind you. or maybe it was just a gasp of pleasure, because his thrusts became sloppier, signalling his approaching orgasm. however, just a split second later, your mouth was filled; theo’s fingers were plunged almost to your throat, making you gag – why the hell were they so long, anyway?

"dumb, dumb, dumb.” each word was punctuated by a rough thrust and a slap on your ass. you were tempted to bite his fingers off, but only managed to scrape the skin a little bit. it seemed to turn theo on even more. "can’t believe i hit the dumbest duo in the world. one has no idea i’m fucking her sister right under her nose, and the other thinks i care.”

even his cock rearranging your guts couldn’t stop you from finally sinking your teeth into his index and middle fingers in silent retaliation. theo hissed, but didn’t pull out, even when a metallic tang of blood hit your tongue. you felt a strange sense of satisfaction, knowing you ripped through his skin – at least this way, you managed to get under it.

"you’re just asking for it, aren’t you, piccola?” theo muttered in frustration, realizing he’d have to teach you a lesson and therefore, hold back on finishing. "you’re gonna get it. you’re gonna fucking get it.”

in one fluid motion of his, you were manhandled onto your back, and your legs were flipped over his shoulders. he was clearly enraged, and the previous shame and guilt squeezing your chest were quickly replaced by a sick kind of excitement. you did it.

"let’s fucking pray she doesn’t come back early.”

au. more.

[yasministration]

Have a taste - Emily Prentiss

Summary: when you explain to emily how one of your exes loved giving you head, she decided that she needs to have a taste warnings: SMUT, oral (r!receiving), face sitting, fwb(?) 1.5k+ wc

Girl's night was missing two crucial members this week, leaving you alone with Emily in her vast living room, staring out her window wall and peering into the night skyline with twin glasses of wine. You were perched on her cloud white sofa, a comfortable silence between you as you delved into each other's personal lives. Clad in soft hello kitty shorts and a mismatching graphic tee, you glanced at Emily, who wore a similarly styled outfit to you, as you asked her the next question.

Somehow, girl's night always found a path towards sex-related conversations, whether is be the dimmed lights in Emily's apartment or your chronic nosiness. Tonight was no different. "Do you prefer sex with men or women?" You inquired, leaning closer to her. To nobody's surprise, Emily had dabbled with both, and would continue to do so for as long as she liked. "Depends on the mood I'm in. Sometimes I want a masculine man to pound into me until sunrise-" She paused at your tipsy giggle, grinning widely before continuing "But otherwise I think I mostly gravitate towards women. They're hot." Another laugh bubbled in your chest at her statement, muttering a joking "Thank you" with a shrug of your shoulders.

Emily downed the rest of her glass of wine before reaching for the bottle again. "Okay, best head you ever got?" She asked blatantly. You hummed, leaning down to put your glass of wine on her coffee table, clapping your hands together. "I dated a guy who was in a band for a while." Emily 'Ooh'ed, tucking her legs under her to make herself more comfortable. "He had this whole look with the messy hair, like nose ring and tattoos going up arms and on the back of his neck. He had an obsession, I think. Could literally wake up on his days off, roll over, and spend hours between my legs. Cooking dinner? Put me on the counter and spread my legs wide open. Checking myself out in the mirror? Got down on his knees behind me and got to work."

"You're lying to me." Emily's reaction was priceless, with her jaw slack, hand frozen around the bottle of wine as she listened to you talk about your ex. When you shook your head with a smile, eyes glinting with mischief, she added

"Well I've got to have me a taste of that pussy."

"Go for it honestly."

She'd meant it as a joke, she really did. A 'oh watch out I like women' type of thing, referring to the straight girls deathly afraid of their queer friends. But now, watching as you shrugged your shoulders carelessly with a chuckle, offering for her to get between your legs and taste what you had to offer, she completely froze.

"I thought you were straight."

"I don't really discriminate between men and women."

"I thought you've never gotten with a girl before."

"I haven't. Doesn't mean I won't."

"So... you'd let me eat you out?"

"Yeah, I don't see why not."

"Are you fucking with me?"

At the shake of your head, Emily put the bottle of wine on the table alongside your glass, crawling over to where you sat on the end of the couch. Emily only stopped when your knees were touching, watching as you consciously straightened up, eyes staring into hers as you worriedly bit down on your bottom lip. "Can I kiss you first?" You nodded, hands falling to Emily's waist as hers went to cup your jaw, leaning in until her lips were grazing yours. She finally pulled you closer so her lips pressed against yours, your mouth falling open to let her slither her tongue in, meeting yours in a passionate dance. Emily expertly took over the kiss, her tongue dominating yours so she could explore your mouth, one hand moving to the nape of your neck to keep you close to her.

Both your hands came up to Emily's chest, pushing her away softly so you could catch your breath, panting softly. If Emily wanted to ease into the act by kissing you, you didn't have a problem with it. You just weren't expecting that. "Okay, let me have a taste then." She spoke again, eyes running over your body. Your nipples were hard, harder than they had been mere moments ago, but she assumed that she just hadn't noticed it before, her senses heightened by her arousal. She had to resist the urge to reach out to pinch them, instead helping you pull your shorts and panties off when you lifted your hips up for her.

"It's probably nothing special." You mumbled, letting Emily guide you so you were leaning back against some pillows, still allowing you a clear view of the woman's movements. Emily scoffed in amusement, laying down in front of you before shuffling forwards until she was close enough to lick your awaiting cunt. She couldn't believe how one question had led to this. The dim lights of her penthouse almost hid the shine of arousal against your skin, but she ran a finger up your slit, collecting your juices before cockily saying "I'll be the judge of that." Emily inhaled deeply, taking in your scent before finally delving into your pussy, arms hooking around your thighs to control their movement.

A moan was immediately heard when Emily ran her tongue up your slit, pushing your puffy lips apart from each other due to the pressure she was applying. You think the moan came from the both of you. "Fuck me." You heard Emily whisper, the movement of her lips against your skin tickling you slightly. Then, she was back to licking, tasting your juices and pressing hard against your clit with her tongue. Your toes curled slightly, hips bucking when your clit sent little shocks of pleasure up your body. Emily grunted, pushing your thighs apart to get more space between them, separating from you slightly so she could spit directly onto your pussy, emitting a loud gasp from you.

Her fingers were on you then, massaging her saliva onto your clit before she latched on again, this time sucking on the sensitive nub. You keened loudly, hands instantly securing in her brown hair as your thighs instinctively tried shutting around her head. Emily allowed it this time, nails making little crescents on the skin at the top of your thighs as she tried getting impossibly closer to your cunt, messily making out with it as she alternated between sucking on your clit and thrusting her tongue into your entrance.

You were convinced she would suffocate just then.

Alas, Emily suddenly pulled away from you, her mouth and chin wet from your arousal as she begged. "I need more. Sit on my face." Your eyes widened at her suggestion, beginning to shake your head as you mutter "I've never-" But she was already frantically tugging your t-shirt off and laying down on her back, hands on your thighs guiding you to mount her. You found yourself letting her direct you over her face, grabbing at the arm of the couch as you tried slowly lowering yourself onto her. Emily wasn't having any of that though, hands on your hips aggressively pulling you down on her face so her nose instantly hit your clit, making you cry out in pleasure.

Changing her technique, Emily thrusted her tongue into your hole repeatedly, hands dragging you back and forth on her face, encouraging you to grind down on her. That's what you did, letting the woman sloppily tongue at your cunt while she reached up for your tits, immediately tweaking your nipples between your fingers. She groped your tits with purpose, alternating between massaging the fat of your breasts and pinching and twisting at your sensitive nipples until you were panting, eyebrows scrunching up while telling her "'M so close. So close Em." Your words encouraged her to go faster, one hand falling from your breast to your hip so she could drag you where she wanted you, lips immediately closing around your clit to suck harshly.

Emily's hand immediately returned to groping your tit, and paired with the aggressive pleasure on your clit, she immediately had you coming, legs closing around her head while you came down from your high. Emily continued lapping at your pussy, hands dropping to rest on your ass where she rubbed your skin gently until you were bucking your hips away from her, whispering "Em, 's too much."

The girl finally stopped, slowly helping you un-straddle her face. She sat up next to you on the couch, arm wrapping around your waist while she leaned in close to you, asking delicately "Was that okay for you?" You nodded, turning your head before leaning into her slightly, staring at her lips. Emily grinned, pecking your lips gingerly before stating "I am a whole mess over here." You chuckled, grabbing tissues from the table to start wiping your juices off her face when she stopped you, adding playfully "And by the way, sweetest pussy I've ever tasted."

[fixingtheon]

Ateez getting caught when steeling your panties

bf!ateezx gn!reader

warnings - suggestive?, iron know

Hongjoong

He’s just trying to be helpful, folding laundry with you while chatting about song ideas. But you notice him suddenly pocketing something. You narrow your eyes.

You: “Did you just steal my underwear?”

Hongjoong: visibly panicked but trying to look innocent “It’s—uh—it’s for my new outfit?”

You: “Joong.”

Hongjoong: embarrassed “pffft who would want these anyway…”

He tosses the panties back on the laundry pile. After he told you to relax he secretly hid them back in his pocket.

Seonghwa

You walk in on him standing by the dryer, holding one of your lacy pairs with a soft, unreadable look. He jumps when he hears the door.

You: “You good there, Hwa?”

Seonghwa: clearly flustered “I—I was just making sure it was… clean?”

You: smirking “Uh-huh. Sure. Need a moment alone with it?”

He’s red for a full hour after that.

Yunho

You catch him walking down the hall, suspiciously tucking something behind his back. You raise a brow.

You: “What’s behind your back?”

Yunho: laughing nervously “Nothing! Just… definitely not your underwear.”

You: “So it is my underwear?”

Yunho: “I missed you! It still smells like you!”

You burst out laughing because somehow it’s endearing, in a mildly unhinged boyfriend way.

Yeosang

This man thought he was slick. Too slick. You find him sitting on the couch, flipping through his phone… with your underwear on his lap like a little trophy.

You: “You forgot to hide the evidence.”

Yeosang: “whaaaattt… who put these here”

He pinches the fabric picking them up as if he’s disgusted. Then he points with his other hand to the wall behind you, after turning back to him the colourful fabric was gone.

Yeosang: “what the heck just happened?”

He acted clueless scratching his head.

San

You see him sprint past the hallway like a child who just stole cookies—except you spot the fabric peeking out of his hoodie pocket.

You: “SAN!”

San: yelling from down the hall “I HAVE NO REGRETS!”

He comes back later with them folded, apologizing… but also asks if he can keep a pair “for when he misses you.”

Mingi

Caught red-handed, literally holding them with a lovesick smile.

You: “You gonna put those back or?”

Mingi: pouting like a giant guilty puppy “They smell like you…”

You: trying not to laugh “you have the smell of me right here” shoves her arm to his nose.

He just grins and hugs you — underwear still in hand then shoving them in his pocket shamelessly.

Wooyoung

This man wants to get caught. He holds them up like a prize and smirks.

Wooyoung: “to save you struggle looking for them. Their mine now”

You: “Put them down.”

Wooyoung: still holding them “Come take them then.”

…and now it’s a flirty chase around the apartment. Well that’s until you tackle him and he’s screeching for you to let go of his hair (you weren’t playing)

Jongho

He’s the least subtle. He literally walks up and asks:

Jongho: “Can I keep this one?”

You: laughing in shock “You’re supposed to be the normal one!”

Jongho: “Exactly. That’s why I asked. See? Respectful underwear theft.”

You: rolling your eyes and nodding “fine… but only for a week.”

He walks away in triumph

You: “I want them back In one pice.”

Jongho: “freak!”

[dalamjisung]

A muted shade of green ✧ Spencer Reid

genre: fluff, light angst

word count: 6339

pairing: reader x spencer reid

description: Dr. Spencer Reid is simply adorable. And you actually think he might be perfect. Until, that is, he isn't.

a muted shade of green masterlist // next chapter

His apartment is a muted shade of green and you always wonder why is it that he painted it so dark. The book covered walls never fail to impress you, making you smile into the ether that was this place with its shelves and shelves of worldly stories. His taste, you think, is more towards the classics and refined tales that carry significance and importance in the world of literature. Dostoyevski, Austen, Orwell, Doyle. Though here and there, in some corners of the living room or thrown haphazardly in the kitchen counter, you see peeks of contemporary names, the ones you’re sure you sold him a long, long time ago. Murakami, Zadie Smith, George. 

You met Spencer when you first moved into D.C., about a year or so ago, and sometimes, you really think that it was just yesterday when you first saw him with his purple scarf walking inside your store.

“Excuse me.” 

You have too many books in your arms to even see who is talking to you, but you apologise nonetheless; it’s the least you can do for your first customer. “I’ll be with you in a moment, apologies for the mess, we literally just opened.” In your defence, you had been so busy unpacking all the new orders and organising things into shelves that you absolutely forgot to put the plaque with your opening hours by the door. You can hear his shoes clicking and clacking around the place, and a wave of anxiety washes through you. If he leaves with a book– luckily two– you will have made your first sell and that just might remind you that of the reason why you decided to do this in the first place.

Carefully putting the pile of Maggie Nelson’s on the counter, you finally turn to face him, tired smile from ear to ear when you see him holding two books already. “You found something you like?” You gently ask, voice calm and fingers fidgeting while you wait for an answer. “Many things, actually. I’m quite glad to see a wide variety of books here, it’s been hard finding something new to read lately.” 

His voice is pointed and it echoes in the empty store. The clock on the walls says it’s 7:58AM and you suck in a breath; it’s definitely too early for someone to be looking for books, but maybe he wants entertainment for his commute, maybe he needs a distraction for the way, or maybe he is odd like that. 

It must be cold outside. The man is wearing a purple scarf  inside what looks like a wool coat, and somehow, he fits in there, in your store. He looks like the kind of person who would be buying books as early as 8 in the morning and you’re not sure if that is adorable or unhinged. 

“Just these, thank you,” The loud thump of the pile of books he deposits by the cashier makes you gasp. “You have a great selection here, I was lucky you open early!” The twinkle in his eyes is what keeps you from telling him that that, in fact, was a big mistake. In the middle of rushing to get the keys from the landlord in time, get the deliveries, get everything sorted and organised, you had completely forgotten to put out the hours for the shop. 

“I am glad you found us here! Do you live nearby?” At this point, you’re just trying to make conversation as you bagged his items, smiling at the titles and happy to see your favourite book in the midst. “I live just across the street, actually,” He said, giving you his card. “You’ll see me a lot, I’m afraid.”

“And what should I call my most loyal customer, then?” One look down at his card and you would know, but you wanted him to tell you himself. 

“Spencer Reid.”

There is not really a sound reason as to why you walk so freely into his apartment. The first time he asked you to do this, he was going on a case and needed someone to water his plants. As it turn out, your store is quite literally across the street from his building and you don’t really mind the mindless task, so you tell him to not worry, you’ll take care of it. It had been a few months since you two met, five or so, and despite taking you some time to truly understand, you got used to the fact that Spencer created a routine for both of you, knocking on your shop’s door every Monday at precisely 8 in the morning. With time, you stopped questioning him even when you had many, many questions– was he even reading all these books? If yes, how?! Every visit, he left with three books or more, and unless he pulled all nighters every night, those were simply sitting on his desk. 

Instead, you start putting a few titles aside whenever you spot them. You start it with ‘A Gentleman From Peru’ by André Aciman, short and sweet. Next week it was ‘A Little Paris Bookshop’ by Nina George. Then ‘Cultish’ by Amanda Montell. And just like this, you two form your own little book club, his visits extending beyond their usual thirty minutes into the better part of the hour to talk about the plot, the characters, the arcs. You know there is quite a lot you don’t know about Spencer, of course there is, but you learn more and more with every little debate you two have. You learn about his morals through the character he likes, and his dreams through the plots he enjoy. You learn about his photographic memory that allows him to quote his favourite sections to you, and you learn that he is a very logical man through his hatred for the inaccuracy of investigative books. You learn and you learn and you learn and you find out that you like learning about Spencer. More than you like learning about anyone else, that is, and now, every time he walks in, you can’t help but get excited, smiling as you only imagine what you would learn that day. 

Sometimes, you did notice the absence of your favourite customer. He would disappear for weeks on end and then act like nothing happened, and you get it; he doesn’t owe you anything, you’re just the lady that sells him books, but you feel like there is something that is starting to bloom when, every time he comes back, he brings you a book. “I thought you’d like it,” Is all he says before leaving with his bag of new reads. For a moment, it’s like an exchange, but Spencer never demands anything of you; never asks for anything more than new books and recommendations. 

It’s quite rewarding finding the books you sold him scattered through the apartment. There are a couple in the kitchen, open split on the counter and you smile fondly at the clumsy way he marks his books. There is no folded page, no book marker, no random picture; just his book, cover facing up, open and splitting the spine in half enough to crease. You shake your head, smiling like he’s done this just to rile you up.

“Oh my god, don’t!”

You don’t mean to shout but it’s too late. His eyes widen in shock and he immediately freezes, mouth stuck in a little ‘o’ shape that makes you blush. “What did I do?” 

The wince in your expression is as visible as the light of day when you speak. Your hands hover in the air, unsure of what to do now, but still trying to do something. “The book, Spencer,” The words come out like a whine, and if you start stomping your feet you might as well look like a child. “The spine. The book. The– oh my god, the noise!”

The way he laughs at you is contagious, and you start laughing with him, face hidden behind your hands in embarrassment. Owning a bookshop doesn’t come for free. Your particularities when it comes to your literary treasures are enough to scare any sane person away. “You know, there are worse sounds than a book’s spine breaking,” He mused, closing the book before walking to your counter. His nimble fingers drum a soft rhythm as he waits for you to go around and charge him for the book. It’s a symphony, almost; so loud in your quiet store that, for a second, your heart is tuning in, thumping as his fingers do, beating to the song he creates. 

“You don’t have to buy it,” It’s a little ridiculous how airy your voice sounds then. Aren’t you a little too old to have a crush? “It’s okay if–“ But he doesn’t even let you finish, rattling off some facts about the writer. Most of the time, actually, he is rattling off some fact about something, and some you know, some you don’t, but you never interrupt him. You like hearing him talk. 

You miss hearing him talk. Whenever Spencer leaves, you miss him. You miss the knock on your shop’s door at 8AM. You miss the shy little chuckles. You miss the purple– the constant, always there purple. A wave of sadness hits you then, looking around the apartment with a longing expression. 

The first time he calls you over, it’s not really an invitation. A week before it happens, he doesn’t show up for your Tuesday unboxing and you have to carry all the new orders inside by yourself. It takes double the time and despite the effort it takes you, it’s the absence of his coy chuckles and snarky commentary that leaves you breathless. When you open the boxes, checking inventory to make sure there had been no issues with your order, you find the book Spencer asked you to get him. It’s one of those special books, so old and unique that you could only get your hands on it because you had contacts in the space. “Huh,” You frown at that– it isn’t like Spencer to forget something. Hell, it isn’t like Spencer to forget anything. Before you can cower away from doing it, you send him a text. You have his number saved in the system, and this feels wrong, it really does. Using his personal information that he gave to you as a client felt wrong. But for a second, it makes you stop biting your nails in anxiety. 

Your book is here. 

It’s Y/N, by the way. 

He doesn’t answer right away and you wallow in your regret for as long as you can. Your shoulders hunch forward as you line up the new arrivals in the shelves. Your frown sits on your forehead all day while you help other passing customers. Your hands brush against the book, all ready and wrapped up and sitting on top of the counter. You hate waiting; you hate waiting for someone or for something to happen as if you’re praying for a miracle. Literature has taught you many lessons in life. It has shown you countless of love stories that could’ve been resolved with a simple conversation. It has told you about people that waited and waited and waited until time passed them away. It has taught you that waiting is simply delaying the inevitable. 

But what literature has not taught you is that, sometimes, waiting truly is all you can do. 

That day, you don’t get a message back. 

You get a call instead. 

“Y/N?” The familiar voice on the other side speaks before you can and your shoulders tense up. Something is wrong. He sounds hoarser than usual, airier, too. 

“Spencer,” You say back, clearing your throat of any remnants or indicators of how nervous you are. “Spencer, are you okay? You sound rough.”

Even his laugh sounds weak and a zap of worry rushes through you. “I’m fine,” He mumbles, and you know he’s saying it out of politeness. “I just got sick. I think I have a cold, it’s nothing much, really.”

The relief that washed over you in crashing waves is almost embarrassing. Even though he is not there to witness it, your face still flushes in a dramatic red. “Oh. I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you–“

“It’s not a bother,” The way his voice interrupts you, so strong and concise, makes you chuckle. “You’re not a bother. I uh, I’m glad to hear my book arrived.”

For a moment, you both stay quiet. You, on your end of the line, are nodding like he can see you. Except he can’t. Except he is waiting, probably, for you to say something. Do something. “I can bring it to you. If you want.”

This time, there is no pause. “Yes. I mean, yes, please. I– I don’t have anything new to read and–” Spencer pauses to cough and you start moving immediately. There is no one in the store and you quickly change the sign to ‘closed’, grabbing his book and your bag before locking the door behind you. There is a pharmacy at the end of the block and you keep your cellphone balanced between your shoulder and ear while your hands make sure you have your wallet with you. “Sorry.”

“No problem at all,” You cross the street in such a hurry that you don’t notice the traffic, getting a symphony of horns calling you out as you run to the other side of the street. “Shit…”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” You tease, laughing a little and entering the pharmacy with purpose. “So just a cold, right?”

“Y/N, where are you?”

“Out,” There is no need to be vague, but you don’t want to give him a chance to protest. “I should be at yours in fifteen minutes with the book.”

“Just the book?” He asks in such a suspicious tone that you can’t hold back a laugher. 

“What else?” Thank god for automatic cashiers speeding up this entire process. You are in an out in less than five minutes and before he can even answer, you are almost at his door. Admittedly, you are speed walking, almost running, in a futile attempt to get there sooner. “Which apartment do I buzz?”

“Apartment 23.” And that is the end of the call. 

By the time you make it to his floor, panting just as you hike the last step upwards, he is already waiting for you, and you can’t say you’re terribly bothered to have a man like Spencer Reid waiting for you by the door. “Spencer,” You still admonish, a small smile playing on your lips. “You shouldn’t be out and about like this.” 

“Then who would let you in?” The mischief in his expression, much like that of a child making an innocent joke, makes you giggle, nodding in agreement. “Do you want to come inside? I promise everything is clean, I’m not a slob or anything.”

“Yeah, let me come in so I can give you your stuff.” 

“I knew it wasn’t just the book,” The coughing fit that followed has you rushing your hands, pulling things out of your bag in a desperate attempt to get him the medicine you bought. This had always been your curse, the flustering anxiety of wanting to help but being unable to take your time. Shaky hands push the book towards him, with the medication and some old receipts stuck to it. 

“Oh shit, sorry!” You squeak, grabbing the receipts and shoving it back in your bag. One of these days, you’d have to close the store early to clean this thing. “But uh, yeah, I got you some cold medicine and your book. I’m sure you know this with your big brain and all, but you need to take this before bed, cause it makes you drowsy, and this other one in the morning since it has caffeine! And you should be good in no time… hopefully!”

In life, a pause is not always a bad thing. It’s a time to think. A time to appreciate, to enjoy. It’s a time to be. A pause, however, from the man whose brain worked a thousand miles an hour, doesn’t feel like something to be thankful for. “Is… Do you not like that brand? I didn’t want to get the generic thing, I don’t know why, I–“

“Thank you.”

At first, you barely hear it. For someone whose voice is so rough and hoarse, you’re surprised he can still sound so smooth and airy. Your reaction is obvious; he can see the blush in your cheeks and the way you bite back a smile. “Y/N, thank you, I really appreciate it,” He says it again and now you think he just wants to get a rise of you. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know,” You shrug, faking humbleness while you keen at his praise. “I wanted to.”

“I know.” 

There is a dance that happens after that, one that you find yourself enjoying quite a bit. Spencer is more present than ever, and you’re getting used to having him around. It’s like you two broke the glass wall the kept you at a safe distance, and now is when you two discover each other a bit better. Like how you find out that, when Spencer’s hand lays on the cashier counter, just an inch or less away from yours, you feel the heath that it emanates. Like how your fingers curl and your palms itch at the sight of his shaggy curls falling on top of his beautiful eyes. Like how his laughter is deep when it’s true and dry when it’s forced. Like how he can read 20,000 words per minute, but he chooses to read 183 instead just so he can read you passages out loud.

You are not sure what he has learned about you, or if he even cares to learn something about you, but the thought still makes you smile. “What’s gotten you so smiley so early in the morning?” 

Ah, yes; another thing you’ve learned about Spencer Reid– he is as quiet as mouse when he wants, and as loud as an elephant when he doesn’t. “My god!” You jump, hand immediately going to your heart to try and keep it from beating our of your chest from the shock. “Spence! You scared me!”

“I’m so sorry,” He laughs, raising his hands in the air, shaking the two cups of coffee he is holding. “I come in peace.”

“And with bribery, I like your style.” 

His style doesn’t change, still haven’t. For ages, you think he buys you coffee at the nearby cafe. You don’t really know the name of the place, some cliche Cafe something something, but the one time you’ve been in there the coffee was terrible and the music too loud. It’s hard picturing your shy, smiley book-lover in there, trying to order something without raising his voice. It’s only when you see the go-to paper cups on his counter, on the fourth or fifth time you come around, that you realise Spencer has never gone to that cafe to begin with. 

The cups are still there. You make a point in spotting them every time you come over– next to the microwave, close to the paper towels. The reminder that this man has, in fact, been making you coffee most mornings validates the fluttery feeling you have whenever you think of it. It makes it somewhat logical. “I must be spending too much time with him,” You mumble to yourself, pushing your sleeves up and getting to work. You are there for a reason, and if those wilting plants die on you, you fear that you might just never be invited back. “Why does he even have plants?” 

You don’t know much about Spencer’s job. He hasn’t told you anything about it except that he travels a lot for it, but you can imagine it is something of importance– a man like Spencer was someone of importance, after all. In your mind, you can imagine him walking into an office down by the Financial District, working with big corporations as an advisor. Yes, you can absolutely see him as some sort of advisor or consultant, but something about him working in finances doesn’t sit right with you– he is yet to talk to you about crypto investments and how to better implement a payment system into the store. Shaking your head, you switch it up. Financial services, aren’t quite right, but maybe an editor, working in a publishing house. With the way he devours books and how well-rounded his personal library was, you could see him as a Publishing Director instead, reading manuscript after manuscript. 

The thought of him reading brings a smile to your face. In his living room, there is an armchair that sits next to the large window on the west wall of his apartment– he says he likes how the sunset hits and makes the pages look warm and golden, turning words into a burning fire of knowledge– and you can practically see him there, blanket over his legs, books and books pilled next to it. It’s your own little secret, how every time you come over, you grab a book, any book, and you sit there for thirty minutes, forty, fifty, an hour; until the sun has completely set and you have to get up to turn the lights on. 

Today, when you sit down, when you bring your knees up, when you drape the blanket over you, something feels incredibly right and incredibly wrong. On the pile of books next to you, right at the top, lays a copy of Gulliver’s Travels. If you remember correctly, which you usually do, last time you sat down at that spot you managed to read up to chapter five before the sun was gone. When you grab the book and you see the bookmark you gave Spencer the second time he visited the store, and you frown– usually, he’d pick up from where you left off. “How long has it been since you last came home, Spencer?” You muttered out loud, grabbing the book regardless. Because even when it breaks your heart to know something has been keeping him away from his precious nook, it fuels your heart to know he leaves your book where you can easily pick it up. To know he doesn’t mind you sitting on his armchair, to know he doesn’t mind you reading his books, to know he doesn’t mind you settling, somehow, in his house. 

A knock on his door, however, breaks you away from your precious moment of rest and relaxation. For a moment, you can’t move, frozen in place light a kid that has been caught doing something wrong. It’s only when they knock again that you move, shuffling to the door to look through the peephole. “Who is it?” You ask, voice weak and shaky. 

“I have a delivery for Spencer Reid.”

How silly you feel in that moment, hand over your heart as you take a deep breath in relief. Unlocking the door, you smile to the USPS guy. “Sorry, he isn’t home right now. I can take it for him.” All you have to do is sign it and close the door, but once you put the package on the counter and your eyes catch sight of a note scribbled on top of the box, all those butterflies inside of you slow down. And find perch. And for a second, make you miss them just like you miss him. 

The first time you think Spencer might have a girlfriend is when he comes into the store with a certain look in his face. He is practically glowing and his eyes don’t leave his phone for a second. “What has you smiling like that?” You two are close enough to ask these kind of things now, making jokes about each other as if you have been friends for ages. “Or uh, who?” Even though you started the conversation, you want to end it now. There is a sour aftertaste in your mouth when you suggest another person to be cause of his happiness, and you know, right there and then, that that is just your jealousy speaking. At this point, you’ve been harbouring a crush on Spencer for the almost two months and there’s only so much a girl can take before exploding. 

“Oh, it’s just a friend.” Somehow, this answer doesn’t settle you as much as you hoped it would. 

The second time is when he brings a woman around. She is blonde, and loud, and colourful, and you eye her carefully. They are matching costumes, and for a second, without even saying, you already feel left out. It’s stupid, being this green over someone so pink. If Spencer was purple, and if you are green, than that woman was pink– she is happy and light and exciting. Next to her, you… well, you are as muted as his green walls. “Y/N!” He calls for you with such a big smile and you just don’t have it in you to pretend to be busy anymore. 

“Hey Spencer,” It comes out quiet and a bit distant, but he doesn’t seem to notice, not with the way he is going back and forth on the ball of his heels. “And hello, ma’am. Welcome, I’m Y/N Y/L/N, the owner. Please let me know if you need any help.”

That day, you two barely talk, but that’s okay, because Penelope, as she introduced herself to you after you help her find a specific book on coding, speaks for both of you. She says that it’s lovely to finally meet you, and mentions how much she has heard about you, and you think this is a very cruel thing to do to your poor, squeezing heart. But you push through. You pretend you’re tired, you apologise for the distance, and you lie about a cough. It’s better if they stay away, you say, but Spencer doesn’t buy it. Instead, he buys Penelope her book and leaves with promises of coming back the next day with your usual coffee. 

After that, you don’t see Spencer for two weeks.

It’s a bittersweet feeling when you get the text that he is back. After almost a week and a half without seeing him, you miss Spencer. He created a space for himself in your life and in your store, and when he is gone, it’s just not the same. But just like how he did, you created a space for yourself in his apartment. Suddenly, the muted green walls aren’t claustrophobic or smothering, but comforting. They are safe. Familiar. They are Spencer. And just like you said, you miss Spencer.

“Y/N!” 

You should be happier to hear his voice, but it’s not the same. The fluttering in your stomach is still there, like a slow buzz trying to come alive, but it’s not the same. Not when the note on the box, flashing like neon signs behind your close lids, has been tormenting you and your poor heart ever since you made the mistake of opening the door. “Y/N? Are you here? The door says open…” At one point or another, you have to come out of hiding and face him. Delaying the moment, though, is the best defence plan you’re able to come up with– if you look into Spencer’s eyes, if you see that pretty smile he has every time he comes back from a work trip… you’re fucked. 

“Y/N, I need you to tell me if you’re here!” It’s not the same. 

His voice. It’s not the same.

Usually mellow and undulating, Spencer sounds stiff, like he’s holding something back. Something new. Something… heavy. There is an edge to him right now, so sharp and cutting that it has you stepping out from behind the Science shelf in pure curiosity. And just like people say, curiosity killed the cat. In this case, however, it almost kills you. 

When you turn the corner to find him by the door, the first thing you see is a man. He is tall and handsome and oddly serious. The way his brows are pulled together make you falter, steps slowing down and mouth opening to ask if he needs help.

That’s when you see it. 

More like you catch a quick glimpse of it, the shinning spark of metal to your side, and you do a double take. You have to do a double take. It’s like your brain doesn’t believe what you’re seeing, and you move your head so fast you feel your neck tensing up in that way that makes your eyes water. “WHAT THE FU– OH MY GOD!” There is no way to throw yourself against a wall graciously, arms over your head and fear written all over face. You land in an awkward angle and your shoulder takes the brunt of the shock, making you gasp in pain while your legs give our under you. 

Of all the ways you’ve imagined Spencer, him holding a gun up to your head was never one of them. “Y/N!”

“Oh my god!” You think you might pass out– you’re breathing too fast and your chest is squeezing, squeezing, squeezing to the point of physical pain. There is a ringing in your ears, muffling the entire conversation between Spencer and the other man and even though you try, you can’t look up; you’re frozen in a state of distress. For the first time since you met him, you’re scared of Spencer Reid. “I– I– Oh my god, I c-can’t– I can’t b-breathe, I can’t–“

“Y/N, look at me! Look at me, you’re okay, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry,” The moment his hand touches your shoulder, you’re shrinking away. 

“Who are you?!” You manage to gasp enough air into your lungs to scream at him. One shake hand moves to the back of your neck, pressing down on the sore nape as you finally move to look at him, crying and all. “Spencer, who are you? Who is he? What is happening? Why do you have a gun in my bookshop, why–“

“Ma’am, I need you to take deep breaths,” The other man quickly holsters his gun and you actually think you might be going insane when flashes you a badge. “I’m SSA Derek Morgan, I work with Spencer. We are with the FBI.”

Federal Bureau of Investigation. Spencer is a fed. And he never told you. 

“The FBI…?” You whisper, eyes going wide and breath hiccuped in your throat. “S-Spencer, you work for the FBI?” Nothing about this makes sense to you. The gun, forgotten in his left hand and now pointing down and away from you, is all you can look at. The gun that looked heavy and cold. The gun that those hands hold– the same hands you’ve wished and, admittedly, dreamed of holding yours instead. The gun, the gun, the gun.

The gun. You’ve never seen a gun before, not this close. In museums, of course, and in movies and shows, but never in real life. You don’t have interest in it either, having voted, without fail, for anti-gun laws and representatives. Anything and everything about this, about seeing him with that deadly weapon, feels wrong, and you really think you might be sick soon.

“Kid, put it away, you’re freaking her out.” 

Then is when you catch sight of the Spencer you know. It’s the clumsy actions, looking almost freaked out himself– his hands fumble with the holster and it takes him a couple of tries to fit the gun properly. That’s when you know for sure– you are going to be sick. “Trash,” You mumble, trying to get up but falling again and again. “Trash, pass me the–“ But there is no time and you throw up right there and then, between the cashier and the nonfiction section. 

“What just happened?” 

“Morgan, get her some water– there, over the counter,” The rapid successions of words make you feel a bit better, a cadence of tone and rhythm that has your hands finally stabilising. “Y/N, you’re in shock. Adrenaline kicked in and left, and you pressured crashed, which is what made you nauseous. You need water, and to come sit by the counter.”

It’s funny, how in any other circumstance, you’d be ashamed and embarrassed to have gotten ill in front of him. As far as you know, Spencer is a germaphobe and this surely counts as germs. But as he grabs your hands, gentler than you’ve ever seen him grab any book in your store, and brings you to your chair behind the counter, you wonder if he forgot or simply doesn’t care. Both options don’t make sense. “Spence, what is going on?” Your voice comes out winey and rough, and there is no way to hold back the pained wince when you feel the sting spreading through your throat. Sip by sip, you try your best to drink the water and soothe yourself, but nothing seems to help. 

Nothing until you hear him next to you, small and quiet and, dare you say, meek. “I’m sorry.”

As much as you’d like to tell him he has nothing to be sorry for, he does. “I see…”

“It was just… it was new, having someone not know I’m FBI,” His thumbs play with each other and you’ve known him long enough to recognise that Spencer is nervous. “And we started getting closer and I just didn’t find an opportunity to tell you.”

“There were plenty,” You clarify, feeling a bit of a bitch for the bite in your voice making him gulp. “But it’s okay. I’m not… I’m not anything of yours, I guess, so it’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Don’t say that. You’re my friend.” That hurt.

“Do you point a gun at all your friends or am I just special, Spence?” It is supposed to be a joke, but the memory makes your bottom lip start wobbling again and you feel stupid. You feel so, so incredibly stupid right now that you can’t even begin to explain why. “Sorry, I’m just– I’m not okay.”

“I know, and we’re sorry,” There is such raw honesty in his words and he manages to make you smile a little. Your hand is still shaking, but you stretch it out towards him regardless. It’s a conscious decision to hold onto his wrist, covered by his jacket, than to reach out for his palm, and from the way he looks at you, you know he recognises the effort. “But you need to come with us.”

“Why?” You cry out, a single tear coming out of the corner of your eye. At this point, the shock is going away and you’re more overwhelmed than anything else. You’re scared and confused and overwhelmed and it’s his pulse, beating again and again, that brings you back to Earth. “Why do I need to go with you? What is going on?”

“Y/N, when you were housesitting for me, you received a package, right?”

In the midst of everything, the memory of that day, that box, that note, all fade. Frowning, you shrugged. “The delivery man knocked and said he had a package for you… I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, I–“

“No, no, no, you didn’t, you didn’t. Please.”

“Ma’am, when you signed for the package, did you use your name?” The man, Morgan, ask, and all you do is nod. Of course you signed with your name. “Kid, we need to take her to the office now.”

“I am not going anywhere until you tell me what’s going on!”

Finally, some energy in you. Some strength. Your voice echoes in the empty shop, and the chair tips back when you stand up on stiff legs. Looking at Spencer is hard, when you feel the burning of your rage inside, but you still do; you still meet those pretty brown eyes, you still stare him down until you practically force the answers off of him. “The package… did you see who it was from?” 

“Spencer, are you insinuating you’ve pointed a gun at me because I read a message your girlfriend wrote on the package she sent you?! Because I didn’t mean to– I didn’t! It just… It was there, right at the top and I–“

“She is not my girlfriend,” He immediately cut you off, hands waving in front of him in a visual demonstration of desperate denial. “Not at all! I don’t have a girlfriend! I was–“

“We can deal with this later,” Morgan is quick to interrupt, sighing as he looked at you. “Y/N, we re really sorry to disrupt you like this, but this is for your own protection. Please lock the store and let’s go.”

It takes time for you to gather everything you need. You are not a disorganised person by any means, but suddenly, you can’t remember where you put what. Your bag is thrown under the cashier, and your keys are, for some reason, in the Fiction shelf. Your glasses are in your head the entire time, and Morgan has to point that out to you. The more you look, the more flustered you get, yet somehow, you make it to the car. Morgan is driving and Spencer is on the passenger seat, and the way they keep talking to each other using words that make no sense to you make you want to scream. “Spencer.”

The heaviness of his name, said with such emotion,, lingered in the air. His eyes meet yours through the rearview mirror, and he nods. “Yeah?"

“Spencer,” You whisper again, eyes wide in shock as reality starts to dawn. “Spencer, if she’s not your girlfriend, then who the fuck is Cat Adams?”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

AAAAAhhhhh I'm trying something new >.< I've been a massive criminal minds fan for a long, long time and Dr. Spencer Reid has my heart <3

Please let me know what you think, this is my first Spencer fic and I'd love if it got to turn into a series!

[dailydoseoffanfics]

⭐️ SELF AWARE FORSAKEN AU (GENERAL HEADCANONS)

⭐️ a/n: my first x reader post that i actually wrote (i think) heh. /silly ANYWAYS this idea has been my brainrot for a while and TBH i'm not sure if I'm able to execute it well but. fuck it we ball 🔥🔥🔥🔥 ALSO I'M ONLY GOING TO DO NOOB, TWO TIME AND CHANCE FOR NOW CUZ THEY'RE THE ONLY PEOPLE THAT I HAVE SOME IDEAS FOR.... (DON'T WORRY I'LL MAKE ANOTHER POST ABOUT THE OTHER SURVIVORS AS WELL)

⭐️ warnings: possibly ooc but I DON'T GIVE A SHITE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🔥🔥🔥🔥 (kinda), also really fucking long

⭐️ reader is gender-neutral so they/them pronouns are used!

(1) <- you're here! (2)

You're a really normal fan about a Roblox game called "Forsaken".......yeah.....totally a really normal and sane fan about that game. But lately, you've noticed something weird about the characters you're playing.

The characters have varying reactions into finding out they're being controlled by something....or someone (you).

⭐️

NOOB (Noob uses they/them pronouns btw if ya'll forgot!)

Bro has NO clue what's happening right.

It was that one specific round, the usual running away from killers, hiding behind walls hoping that they don't get spotted. It just another round. Or so they though.

During that round, while they're in hiding, they felt some type of.....warmth.

They ignored it at first. Could be just instincts.

But this warmth was....growing? In a way that this warmth was growing stronger, and they feel this type of.....force.

It was controlling their movements, and Noob could hear a faint voice.

Noob is looking around, their mind running places. What is going on? Who is controlling them? And WHY are they doing this???

Noob felt their fear increase. It was already bad that they're getting chased by killers every single round, but when they become aware of this type of, weird force, that's somehow controlling every single of their movement, and hearing a voice that's so far yet so close? Not too mention that Noob didn't even know who you are, no face, no name, nothing. Noob just thought that they lost their mind for good.

What's even worse is that they don't if they can actually trust you. For all they know, you might be some kind of sadistic person that controls people for fun and takes pleasure in seeing people suffer.

That's why Noob tried to stop whatever force this is. Keyword: tried.

No matter how much effort they put into escaping this grasp, like trying to go into an opposite direction or just standing still, it wasn't enough.

Eventually, when the round ends, Noob is just in their designated room, laying on their bed, wondering what in almighty christ just happened.

Their mind kept replaying that incident. Genuinely WHO WAS THAT PERSON? AND WHY WAS THIS PERSON CONTROLLING THEM? WHAT DID THEY EVEN DO TO BE SUBJECTED TO...WHATEVER THIS IS???

Their paranoia is multiplied by 10x. Every new round, their face is noticeably more fearful, they're more jumpy, and they're looking around EVERYWHERE. They look like they're on a brink of a mental breakdown. Usually the other survivors got used to Noob's shakiness, but when the survivors noticed Noob getting jumpscared by literally any sounds, that's where the suspicion comes in (Two Time was the first to notice).

Even if Noob feels dread whenever they feel that same warmth, somewhere deep inside of their mind, it feels..... oddly calming?

Overall, Noob is NOT having a good time. Noob will flat out NOT trust you in the beginning, and probably thinks you're up to no good, so they'll try to avoid you as much as possible (even if they fail everytime). You're gonna have to be REALLY patient with them, Noob being trapped in this time-looping game is already bad enough for them. (Think about this video LMAO)

⭐️

TWO TIME (also uses they/them!)

Two Time is......perplexed. They don't know how to feel about this.

Before Two Time gained awareness, Two Time noticed Noob being more jittery than usual. So they confronted Noob about their behavior lately, and (tried to) comforted Noob. (I headcanon Two Time to be a pretty observant person, and while Two Time is usually closed off, they interact with Noob the most. Second being Elliot.)

So this situation about some kind of....force....controlling Noob? Hm.

Two Time thinks about that interaction, and doesn't just brush that conversation off. They will keep in mind of that, questioning about this "force", with furrowed eyebrows and a questioning gaze on their face as they walk down the hallway of the cabin they live in with the other survivors. (I also headcanon Two Time to be kind of...an overthinker. A great listener, but I think they would think too much about things. ALSO also feel like they're generally an anxious and paranoid fella, and it's canon that they're a little crazy in the membrane, so uh, they're pretty much unstable.)

And that's where it happened. Right after that interaction with Noob with a new round started, they felt warm. The type of warmth Noob described, a type of force that's controlling them.

Two Time felt their blood ran cold. Oh...wow. Two Time understands Noob's fearfulness now.

Immediately doing everything on their willpower to escape out of this force even just for little. They're LOCKED THE FUCK IN trying to stand like a statue (with the survivors giving Two Time weird looks and YOU, my dear player, being confused by this absurd behavior your character that you're playing as right now is showing).

Unfortunately, Two Time's attempt was futile, as their legs are jerked forward, forcing them to participate in the round. Throughout the round, Two Time's mind is running a marathon, while also making more attempts to get out this..warmth feeling off of them.

When the round ends, they would....keep this as a secret for some reason. We all know that Two Time's an enigmatic person, they want secrets to be kept as secrets. (Even then, their weird behavior earlier might've confirmed Noob's suspicion that there was, INDEED, something is controlling them.)

I feel like bro would just go from "OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS SHIT HOLY SHIT I DON'T LIKE THIS PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE" to "wait.....what if they're some type of god...omg am i the chosen one ?!?! 🤯🤯🤯"

So the more rounds you played, the more they're starting to think that you're.....a type of deity. And they're slowly starting to stop their escape attempts of the "force".

It's canon that Two Time used to be a part of a cult that believes in the concept of respawning, and this belief grew stronger as time went on, so Two Time thinks that they've been blessed by the gods, and while Two Time can't really hear well of what you're saying, YOU might possibly get them out of this hellhole.

So basically, they slowly went from dreading your presence to......seeking your presence.

Doesn't help that they're pretty unstable though. My guy's gonna look STRAIGHT at you the screen with a smile that you don't whether they despise you or they worship you, which scares the LIVING shit out of you, making you exit out of the game QUICKLY.

And when you exit the game, the warmth automatically disappears from Two Time......which Two Time immediately felt disappointed with. They didn't mean to make you scared! They just wanted to know more about you!

Yeah, Two Time's bummed about that, but now, you're on their mind, and their feelings is having a battle of whether they should be weary of you or trust you.

(Will they eventually be obsessed with you and be desperate of your approval making them do anything, and by ANYTHING, they do for you? Maybe......possibly......likely....)

Overall, Two Time won't trust you at first. But overtime, they'll think you're like a deity or something similar, which is where they'll let you do whatever you want with them. (And where their obsession slowly starts.)

⭐️

CHANCE (canonically uses he/they!)

Chance is.....confused by all of this.

Chance was the third person to notice Noob's weird behavior. Overtime, they also noticed Two Time being...more in La La Land as well.

Chance just shrugs it off. Eh, he just thinks both of them are generally paranoid, and doesn't think too much about it.

HOWEVER, something weird happened to Chance today. When a new round started, they felt something.....odd in their body.

They felt warm, but a type of warmth that is....controlling his movements.

.......Ooooookay. This is weird.......... DEFINITELY weird.

Chance is caught off guard by this, and while some type of force is making him go to who knows what, his mind is jumbled.

Bro is CONFUSED, BEWILDERED, SURPRISED. He's having profound feelings of confusion.

They would be a teeny tiny bit scared at first, because, WOAH, HOLY SHIT, WHAT IS GOING ON????

But eventually, they would become....curious about this force.

Not only do they feel this type of warmth, but they also hear a voice as well......the voice's too muffled. Chance thinks it's probably his luxurious headphones, so he takes them off. The voice's still too muffled, damn. (You definitely noticed Chance taking off their headphones. You immediately go suspicious. Is your mind playing tricks on you or was this just a new animation apart of the new update that the developers forgot to mention?)

I feel like Chance would be the most calm about this. His canon personality type is ENFP, and ENFPs are usually social and open-minded, so I definitely see Chance wanting to know more about you. He doesn't think of you as a scary individual, and yea sure, he may be a little bit on edge, but he feels like you don't seem to be a bad person, which is why Chance becomes interested in you.

Chance would try to communicate with you by looking at the screen and giving you a smirk......which you immediately close your laptop.

Chance feels the warmth disappear, he feels like that one Spongebob meme that has a teardrop, while you on the other hand, feel like you're going insane.

Welp, guess he's gotta find a way to talk to you without making you feel scared.

He wonders if you'll like his pet bunny, Spade.

Overall, the most chill about this situation. He wants to interact with you more.

[priisprii]

Gentleman - Joshua

Summary: Your gentleman boyfriend is freak on the sheets.

Warnings: dom!Joshua x fem reader, unprotected sex, fingering, spit kink, penetrative sex, edging, pure filth.

Word count: 1.7 k

Minors don't interact.

Gentleman

That's what your boyfriend pretends to be infront of everyone; an innocent, kind and sweet ball of sunshine, he indeed is gentleman. He's the most considerate and warm human you ever met. Joshua was painfully perfect. But not a single soul would have thought that this sweet-natured honey boy was a whole different person with you in the bedroom. A cruel sadist . His comforting voice somehow becomes more deeper and sexier while he uses it to whisper the dirtiest words possible that leaves you a broken mess in his hold. His long fingers were able to reach the most sensitive corners of your pussy. He was everything you wished for, a caring boyfriend and also a strict dominant to overstimulate you till you beg him to stop. It didn't mean that you didn't feel safe or loved, he had a way of words that made both your heart and pussy skip a beat. It was true that there's a wild side to every innocent face.

" I am not going to touch you unless, you beg sweetheart" Joshua snickered , this was the third time he edged you this night , the sweet torture was beyond your limits, you wanted him to put his glistening fingers back to where they were. He knew you were a little hesitant while voicing out your needs so he always made you cry out what you wanted him to do the most. A literal tease. Your face was a complete mess. Tears falling from your eyes and mouth covered with spit and cum from the recent blowjob you gave your boyfriend.

" Please put —your cock inside me, please daddy", you pleaded him , voice so desperate and shameless, it made Joshua's cock twitch a little.

" Your wish is my command doll", Joshua said as he positioned his one arm on side of your head, his eyes heavy with lust and adoration piercing your soul . He entered his two fingers inside of you to stretch you out a little for his thick dick. Even the slightest touch turned you on, the previous ruined orgasms made your mind mushy, the only thing you were focusing on was how good his fingers rubbed you down there, he curled his them up for a last time before removing them from your needy cunt and cleaning them on your breast and pinching one nipple not to hard, you were blabbering incoherent words. He just gave you a wicked smile before entering his cock inside you, stretching you out in best way possible. Joshua felt he's in heaven, your walls squeezing his cock damn perfectly, he didn't waste any more time before thrusting in and out of in a ferocious speed. That's how he was fast and rough. Skin slapping and filthy moans sound filled the room.

" open your mouth"

"Wider slut" He said as his hand reached against your tear drenched cheek slapping you not in a hard way, the action making your abused pussy throb around him .You opened your mouth as wide as possible. Joshua removed his cock from your pussy and entered his fingers inside you , twisting, curling and scissoring them in the most brutal yet pleasurable way possible. You knew what exactly he was doing. He collected both of yours as much as wetness and precum possible before he placed his fingers inside his mouth and then went down on you passing down the spit and precum from his mouth to yours. The mixture directly went on your tongue, it felt so filthy yet good. So fucking messy, This was Hong Joshua. He could have also done this after Cumming inside you but he preferred to look at the best view while he fucked your brains out . he always somehow finds new way to make the sex sinful and dirty as much as possible. He enjoyed watching his girlfriend being like a actress straight from porn so vulnerable and fucked out.

" Swallow", Joshua said while he admired you, watching the mixture of liquid pooling inside your mouth. You swallowed eagerly after his command. You looked at him with Blurry doe eyes admiring every detail of him.

" Good girl", he said and moved his hand on top of your head patting you softly before entering himself inside your fluttering cunt again. His pace again the same fast and deep. You whimpered below him, feeling so full and cloudy.

" Who owns you ?" Joshua rasped out in your ears dangerously, the possessive side of him coming out.

" you, you--" you said breathlessly as you grabbed his shoulders for support. Upon hearing you Joshua was beyond satisfied. You were his and he was yours that's what that mattered. His hands roamed on your body hips, thighs breast neck everywhere , he was really touching like he owned every single part of you, that made you feel some type of way, butterflies exploding inside your stomach. Your orgasm was close, Joshua felt you tightening around him , your toes curling due to indescribable heavenly pleasure.

" I want to cum", you said, your words coming out broken and weak. He was close to his high too.

" my pathetic slut, can't even beg properly." Joshua mocked your broken state with full pride, knowing that only he was able to see you so fucked out and vulnerable and only he can make you feel so good. He grabbed you by hair and let you in a passionate hungry kiss, pushing his tongue further down your mouth, saliva leaking from the corner of your lips from his force, his kisses were dangerous for you . He wrapped your left leg around his waist while while he gave you the permission to cum around him.

With a high pitched moan you let your orgasm ripped through you, you felt like being on cloud nine. Squeaky sounds becaming more audible as Joshua was still fucking you out while you ride down your high, the overstimulation making you dizzy. With few final thrusts he cummed inside you, his warm cum painting your walls, the feeling was amazing, after fully empting himself while being still inside you, he slowly moved his hips trying to shove the liquid as deep as possible his hand reached yours , intervening and kissing each other with now just pure love. He looked down at your both connecting sexes feeling proud and simply happy.

He plopped down beside you and embraced you so lovingly moving his hands on your head and stomach, he snuggled in your neck and left soft kisses behind.

" you okay baby? " , Joshua asked you softly while playing with your hair.

"I am", you said voice weak due to screaming and moaning so much.

"you're breathtaking" Joshua whispered preping your cheeks with kisses.

" let's quickly have a shower baby, tomorrow I need to make red velvet cake for you , Joshua said in an enthusiastic tone, sounding just like a child. My sweet cinnamon boyfriend.

A/N : I miss shua guys