#anon I hope I was clear enough in my response

[reflections-in-a-critical-eye]

Omg finally someone else knows about the Charmie ship, I was starting to think it was a fever dream that I dreamt up lol. People always bring up Taekook and Larry as examples of bad shipping practices but Charmies were delusional too. It’s interesting how these problematic ships have specific terminology associated with them/their industry. Larry had a ‘beard’, Taekook had an opposing ‘fanservice’ ship and Charmie had a ‘PR relationships’. Observing the ships of especially higher profile celebs/idols is so interesting to witness because it highlights the patriarch society we live in. Like you mentioned, these ships really display how women consciously/subconsciously hate on other women they perceive to be threats to their ship or fantasy. The enemy of these ships are usually women (Harry+Louis+Timothee+Armie’s girlfriends/wives) or men that they feminize (Jimin). Interesting topic.

You made an interesting observation at the end regarding Jimin. The taekook narrative is different in comparison to other big slash ships because the so called "enemy" has a different gender. For larry or charmie, the woman is the intruder so hating her it's like an automatic response. She's there to disrupt the fantasy and also expose the fantasy at the same time.

Because the result is that the shippers are more interested in actively fetishizing a gay relationship and gay men. They are fascinated with it, although at the same time they apply heteronormative definitions to it. One is the woman with any particular gender stereotypes, the other one is the man, with its own set of gender stereotypes. This is then transposed into the way they write fanfiction, how they draw the couple. They have the obsession with coming out, of praying for their eternal love. Once you see such vocabulary, it makes it all more clear. And then something happens, a woman comes into play and that's a problem. They already have the woman, the feminized version of one of the men in the ship, which is acceptable because it's a product of their imagination and a self insert at the same time.

Now, taekookers are having to deal with a bigger problem. Their biggest threat in their view is in this case a man. That disrupts the fantasy even more. So in order to make it all work, they have to change how they view that man. They need to reduce him, to strip him of his masculinity because his masculinity puts him as equal as those other two men. And him being an equal makes it a threat. Because in the case of taekook where the shippers believe that Tae and JK are in love with each other and that makes them automatically attracted to the same gender, hence gay (I'm just telling how their fantasy works), it means that there is the possibility of Jungkook (never Tae) to be attracted to Jimin. Because he is a man. That's why ships involving Tae/JK and a woman do not pose a "real" threat in the eyes of the shippers. They laugh at it because they truly believe JK and Tae are together. But by believing that, they are also aware, deep down, that Jungkook as a presumably gay man, could also be attracted to another man - Jimin.

So because this is such an unacceptable scenario, they have to femininize Jimin. He cannot be seen at the same level of a gay man as JK and Tae. Hating Jimin in that position would reveal that they can be homophobic and how they mostly fetishize a gay relationship. In turn, Jimin is portrayed as a woman. A woman that can be hated, the type that through the patriarchal conditioning, is seen as a threat to other women. For example, the femme fatale, the seductress, the slut, the whore. All words used by taekookers. Sometimes they latch onto made up rumors in which they return Jimin his masculinity if it involves some woman, or him supposedly becoming a father. But that doesn't happen often. Jimin is also seen as a man who could be gay only when once again, they find another man to ship him with. Be it Yoongi, or his friends in his private life. In both these scenarios, Jimin can be a man and attracted to other men. But the minute he is next to Jungkook, he cannot be that anymore. He is no longer potentially a man with whom Jungkook may cheat, but a home wrecker, which is usually a term used for women. Jimin's feminine qualities which show up in his behavior in a positive sense (he is more nurturing, he is in tune with his emotions, etc) are completely dismissed. He is patriarchaly feminized.

*Jimin and gender identity/sexuality discussion.

[oraclekleins]

hello hello!! i discovered you a few hours ago and LOVE your content<3

could i request a joost klein x gn!reader where the reader is also competing in eurovision, representing {readers country} and basically they are already dating and joost kind of gets jealous because readers new make up artist got a little TOO touchy.. once they get back to their shared hotel room he expresses that jealousy by getting a bit more clingy?

when reader tried to ask about whats wrong he just kisses them or brushes it off as not important :3

thank you if you accept my request and have a great day <3

ill be 🩵anon if that’s okay!

Hii! Thanks for being so sweet, nonnie! Hope this is up to your liking. 💙 I changed the prompt a little iiif that's alright, so here's kind of an aftermath of that. ^^ I love any feedback.

You're Overcomplicating Things . . -> Jealous!Joost Klein x Reader

The buzzing of Joost's phone wakes him with a start. 

His head turns a bit to the side, slowed from exhaustion. Joost's vision is still catching up with him, the living room gauzed in a radial blur; he feels like he’s wading through quicksand — dragging himself to sit up, before his arm catches another body. You're curled onto the left side of the bed, unmoving —  the pillow your arm was wrapped around having ended up on the floor. There’s a spot of drool on your hoodie, plush lips tugged along the bold Eurovision logo of your sleeve. 

“Morning,” Joost mumbles, patting the cushions for his phone. His voice is groggy, scratched dry from the shitty beers you two had downed the night before. He grimaces at the spit webbed on the top of his mouth, flicks at it with his tip of tongue in disgust. He moves to gently push at your leg; it’s hot, too hot for you to lounge this close; there’s a pool of sweat sinking into the crook of his chest — he feels gross, sticky, uncomfortable. There's a heavy silence in the air. It feels like you did something wrong, but you can't place your finger on it. You stir in response, a whine of annoyance rumbling from your throat. You blink over to see what Joost's all worked up about, who’s grabbing his phone from the nightstand, pinching at his forehead.

"Good morning — what's wrong?" You're still waking up, clearing the spit from your throat. Biting back a cough, you manage to sit up, pressing on the wrinkles from your shirt.

Joost offers you a tired smile, moving to kiss your forehead. "Long day ahead, right? Hop to it." A bit of enthusiasm pokes out of his voice as the words die out, his lips trailing to your jaw, pressing into it. It feels like he's hiding from you, even when he's slotted into your side like a puzzle piece, lazily tracing his fingers against your hip.

He's sulking, the boy-shape trying to disappear into your skin, upset and loathing.

Your fingers find his curls, gently raking your nails across his scalp. He makes a noise of satisfaction, face nestling closer to your collarbone.

You would know his envious touches through death. There were small, red marks around your waist where he had been pressing into it, marking you, yet.. gentle. Apologetically, he rubbed his thumb over them, turning his face from you.

"Joost," you sigh, "you think it's stupid," he perks up. "Right? That's why you won't tell me."

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth. "Your makeup, it looked good yesterday. The new artist. Good." Joost fixates on the blanket under you both, looking anywhere but at you. "Good connection."

"Good connection?" He's already kissing the words from your mouth, stealing them from you. If he took them, then he wouldn't have to hear you say them. Listen to you accuse him — be disappointed. "Joost, let me," you're tired of this game already, and he's holding you like he can't get enough, arms tightly wrapped around your waist. You can feel the tense of panic in him, cold throughout his veins, a tremble to his grip.

You're prying his fingers away — careful, soft, not like a punishment. A warning. "You need to talk to me."

Joost is quiet for a minute. He's thinking. His uncomfortable grin is full of teeth, ones that graze on your irritability, biting into you like a peach. He doesn’t wipe the juice from his mouth —  instead lets it dry on his chin, picking at the stain. A rash of his own, festering nerves.

He sits up. Joost's tank hugs his figure. His hair is coiffed into loose, blonde strands of fray, kissing the back of his neck — bouncing when he tilts his head. He frowns. You wrap your arm around his shoulder, keeping him afloat.

"You do not rehearse today, yes?" Joost asks after a bit. You want to make a remark about how you have his schedule memorized, everything written down on your phones, laid out for him — it's a little mean. He doesn't need it right now.

Swinging your legs to the side of his bed, you nod. "Not today, yeah. You want me to come hang out with you?"

Joost nods, a little too fast.

You kiss the side of his head, pulling him back into your chest. "You need to tell me when you're upset. Even if you think I'm gonna get mad, or, I don't know — weirded out."

"I love you." You hum into shoulder. You're ghosting the pad of your thumb against his cheekbone. He looks satisfied, curling back into you.

Joost tangles your fingers. You know how this goes.

"I love you too."

Thanks for reading!

[mockerycrow]

HELLO the biggest congrats on 4k, you absolutely deserve that and so many more!!!

Could I see a female!reader x Ghost with the prompt:“I had a nightmare . . . can I stay with you tonight?”

TY and yet again, congratulations 🤍🤍🤍

REASSURANCE (Ghost x Fem!Reader) — 4K CELEBRATION

authors note; thank you so much anon <3 i hope you enjoy!

[WARNINGS; not proofread (like most of my fics), silent panic attack + light dissociation, implied you’ve never seen his face, hurt/comfort.]

You know Ghost has nightmares—everyone knows Ghost has nightmares. No one really wants to talk about it because he doesn’t, but everyone has seen the man up at ungodly hours of the night, or perhaps beating the absolute shit out of a punching bag at the on-base gym.

No one except for Price knows what Ghost’s been through, but no one really questions him. It’s unrealistic to think Ghost is the only one waking up due to their dreams—even Price does on the occasion. What Ghost doesn’t do is ask for help.

You had a weird gut feeling about tonight; you weren’t really restless, but you weren’t tired. Every time you laid down to try to get some sleep, your eyelids would slowly open back up. You tried multiple methods; white noise, thinking about nothing, thinking about a story, taking a sleep remedy—nothing.

You had a weird tightness in your stomach that you couldn’t shake. It’s no big deal, you’ve had several nights like this. Nights where you stay up, half expecting something to happen. You aren’t sure if its the military-esque anxiety flaring up, expecting an attack of some sort or if it’s just one of those nights.

You’re laying in bed, trying to think of what you have to do tomorrow. Might as well try to think of something useful, right? Let’s see, you have to do morning training and then you have to eat, brief with price, it’s your turn to help the armourer—the weapons master, you like to say to piss them off—and you also have to do paperwork.

A very tame evening, you think, avoiding the Q word everyone oh so desperately hates; including yourself. Because the second you say it, you’re going to be called by Laswell, or General Shepherd, or some other CIA federal agent bureaucrat about some fucking thing that’s happening in the god forsaken world that only, and only task force 141 can handle—

—Someone knocks on your door, breaking your disorganized thoughts. Your eyebrows furrow; no one should be up, maybe Price is, or Ghost. Did you forget some paperwork? You sit up, slip your slides on your feet, and you walk to the door. You unlock the door and open it, wincing from the bright light of the hallway pouring in, and you’re met with the large figure of Ghost.

You blink, unsurprised. “Hey.” You utter. “Did I wake you?” God, Ghost sounds rough. It sounds like he garbled glass—er, maybe that isn’t the nicest way to describe one of your superiors voices right now. It’s clear he just woke up. You shake your head in response, stepping aside. “Here, come in. It’s bright.”

Ghost silently obeys, stepping inside of your room. You close the door and head over to your desk. You feel around in the darkness until you feel your lamp and you click a button, turning it on, illuminating the room just enough for you to see Ghost. He’s wearing a pair of dark grey sweatpants with one of his black, long-sleeve compression tops to go with it.

He’s wearing a basic black balaclava without the iconic skull, but.. His eyes are different. Distant and weary, cautious—panicked almost. Your eyebrows furrow together as his broad shoulders are tense, fists clenched.

“Ghost..” You call softly. He seems far away—he needs your help. “Ghost.” You say more insistently and louder, noticing the way his chest is barely moving. “Ghost, hey, can y’hear me? You need to take a breath..” You murmur, slowly approaching him.

He’s frozen but you see how his eyes flicker towards you, taking a moment realize where he is. You offer a soft smile you always show him and you nod. “There you are, big guy. Can I touch you?” You make sure to ask because you never know; a soldier during a flashback, touching them? That can be fatal—you trust Ghost as you don’t think he would ever hurt you, but you never know a person.

It takes him a moment to nod, which makes you promptly and gently grab his wrists. You gently guide him to your bed, and you sit him down. You’re nervous—you’re about to calm him down in one of the only ways you know how to, but you’re worried about the consequences you’ll receive afterwards. Oh well, you don’t care, not when Ghost’s eyes are as unfocused as they are.

The bed dips under his weight and you gently spread his legs, standing between them. You grab his arms; they’re deadweight, but his eyes flicker some recognition, allowing you to guide his arms around your waist. You guide his head to lay against your stomach, your hands cradling his masked jaw and the back of his neck.

Ghost takes in a harsh, shuddery breath which makes you hum in approval. “There you go, Ghost. Breathe, you’re alright.” You say in a mellow manner, your thumb brushing over his masked cheek. Ghost takes in another harsh breath as his arms tighten around you. You continue to try to ground him, talking and praising him for his efforts to stay calm. You know he isn’t in the right mind, but you’re still shocked he’s allowed you to touch him for as long as you have.

Something in your gut unravels as Ghost pulls his head away ever so slightly, ripping his mask off and throws it away like it was constricting his breathing. He buries the side of his face back into your stomach, taking you by surprise. Your met with his blonde hair in the low light, your heart stuttering.

You hesitate only for a moment before you bury a hand in his hair on the back of his head, your other hand returning to his jaw, your heart hammering as you note he has stubble as well as something on his skin, like deep scar tissue.

Ghost lets out a noise which you quickly hum in response. “It’s okay, let it out.. Won’t tell anyone about this, okay?” You assure him, causing another noise to escape him, almost like a laugh. “Kinda hard t’do that when a pretty girl is comfortin’ you.” He croaks, his voice broken—both his voice and sentence making your brain short circuit. You laugh in return, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. “Shush,” You murmur. “Just relax.”

Ghost nods against your stomach, shakily exhaling. You stay like that for a while; neither of you are sure for how long, and neither of you care. You’re enjoying the rare vulnerability Ghost is displaying, and he’s enjoying the grounding touch you’re currently providing him. The silence is comforting as you comb your fingers through his hair, and you enjoy the weight of his head and his arms.

“I had a nightmare…” Ghost utters. You hold your breath as he looks up at you, and oh god, he’s hot. “..Can I stay with you tonight?” You’re mesmerized by the way his nose is curved—clearly has been broken a couple of times and wasn’t reset right—by the way his eyebrows are furrowed, his big, beautiful brown eyes.. You nearly forget to respond. “Yes,” You push out, resisting the urge to reach up and rub the tension between his brows. “Always.”

[imababblekat]

Big Red's Big Secret

Anon Request, "Hey! Im new to your blog and im pretty sure your requests are open, i was wondering how the turtles react to Raph having a secret s/o. Like he had been acting suspicious and they followed him and they saw him go to a person’s apartment and like do couple stuff ig? I hope i was clear enough ty have a good day/night✨"

~xXx~

“So yeah, this is (y,n), my partner. (Y,n), my brothers.”

A silence, thick as a brick wall, befell amongst the ninja turtles and single human that stood beside Raphael. He swore he hadn’t been followed, made extra sure and took extra ways to get to your place just to be safe. Perhaps, Raph had been exhausted from the recent missions him and his brothers had been busy accomplishing, or he was just too eager to see you after having not in a while, that he had not been as observant of his six as he’d thought. Whichever the reason for his slip up, it was too late to dwell on now, as his brothers who had followed him after having acting suspicious discovered the reason the red clad ninja had been going on so many “solo patrols”. That reason being you, who tensely stood behind him with six pairs of eyes completely focused on your presence.

It wasn’t till the biggest of smiles and a loud, excited “oh my gosh” bellowed from Mikey, that any tension in the room seemed to disparate.

“I’m Michelangelo, Raph’s favorite sibling of course, but you can call me Mikey!”

The youngest was just as you had imagined from the details described to you by your loving turtle, his smile contagious as you felt your own lips break into one to match. You couldn’t help but lightly giggle as Mikey’s furious handshake caused you to almost topple to the side, had Raph not been there to stable you.

“Hi, nice to meet you.”

Releasing your hands, Mikey was quick to jump into asking you a million questions, some of which left Raphael feeling a tad bit embarrassed.

“What’s your favorite pizza topping?! Do you play video games?! If so, what’s your favorite game?! Oh! Did you know that Raph sometimes talks in his sleep and if you ask him something he’ll actually answer?!”

“Okay-“, Donnie quickly intervened, seeing his red banned brother quickly glare with embarrassment, moving to step in front of the youngster before he said something that would get him into trouble.

“Stop hogging Mikey, let the rest of us say hi. I’m Donatello, but every one just calls me Donnie or Don for short.”

You stared with wide eyes up at the giant before you. Sure Raph had said he wasn’t the tallest of his siblings, but you hadn’t imagined one them to be this towering. Still with a big smile, you shook Donnie’s offered hand, a twinkle of mischief dancing in your eyes.

“Raph never answers this question, so do you mind telling me how the weather is up there?”

Donnie smirked, subconsciously straightening his posture to appear taller before sassily replying.

“Quite nice actually. You’re pretty funny, I like that.”

You smirked with shrug, playfully nudging Raphael’s side.

“Thanks, Raph says my humor is his favorite quality.”

Raphael as a response shook his head, eyes rolling with a small smirk, hand grabbing for the sleeve of the arm you bumped him with to pull you closer. He watched you interact with Donnie and Mikey, a warm feeling through out him as laughs and playful jester bounded between the trio. That was until, the clearing of one’s throat, cut into everyone’s attention.

Standing awkwardly back from the group, still just outside the open windowsill, was Leonardo. The anxiety and tension of earlier came rushing back to Raphael, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. Your eyes darted between the two, feeling a strong tenseness float in like a dense fog.

Just like with Mikey and Donnie, Raphael had told you lots about Leonardo. Yes, some of it had been during times the two would get into it, but it hadn’t all been negative. Some of it were things he’d never confess to the leader in blue, such as only ever having wanting to make him proud. Other times he’d remanences over good moments or adventures the two shared. Over all, it was a complicated relationship, especially when the two were younger, but what you knew for sure, was that Raphael truly loved his eldest brother.

Gently squeezing the hand that still held your sleeve, you offered Raphael a comforting smile.

The leader in blue was caught by surprise when a human hand had extended into his field of view, Leo's eyes following up the hands arm to meet your kind filled gaze.

“You must be Leonardo. It’s nice to finally meet you.”, you greeted, hand still opened towards him.

Truth be told, Leo was just as nervous as Raphael about this unexpected meeting. Yes, he was a little angry that Raph went behind his family’s back. However, he was secretly more hurt that his brother felt the need to keep such an important thing a secret. While he supposed it was to happen as he, especially in the past, would not have reacted so well to things Raphael would sometimes do, Leo worried that said brother had lost trust in him.

Leonardo looked between your open hand and back to your smiling face, before focusing on his hot headed brother in your living room. He was glaring, but Leo knew Raphael better than anyone, and could see the nervousness that swam in his hazel eyes. Obviously this was not the ideal way he’d planned on having the two of you meet, but it’s how it happened. Yet, where it was his brother who extended theirs hands to you, you were the one to extend you hand in friendly greeting towards Leo.

Finally, Leonardo reached for your hand, giving it a gentle shake, unaware of the weight that seemed to evaporate from Raphael’s stiffened shoulders.

“It’s nice to meet you as well, I apologize for the sudden intrusion. I hope we didn’t scare you.”, Leo apologetically greeted, rubbing the back of his head feeling a bit shy.

You shrugged once more, still holding a kind smile.

“Don’t worry about it, you didn’t frighten me at all, but how about you come inside. It must be freezing out there, plus I just finished making some cookies.”

Leo smiled at your kindness, thanking you for your offer and stepping into your warm home as he watched Mikey excitedly follow you to the kitchen for the sweet baked goods, Donnie following close behind. He’d only just met you, but Leonardo could instantly see how it was that Raphael fell for you. Despite the slight ache still present in his chest, Leonardo was grateful that someone so compassionate as you were the one to hook his brothers heart.

As he and Raphael made way to follow after you and his two youngest siblings, Leo gave the later a good pat on the shoulder, a warm and happy smile thrown his way.

“You did good, bro.”

Raphael, feeling lighter then he’d ever had, seeing the person he loved most in life now be apart of his family, wrapped an arm around Leonardo's shell with an equally comfortable and joyous smile.

“Thanks, Leo.”

~xXx~

[dancingbirdie]

I saw you did a new submission for Astarion. Is it okay if I ask for another thing for Astarion who’s very submissive and whiny for your touch?

Hi anon! I hope I did your request justice. I was feeling a little angsty today and this is what came out. Feel free to submit another request if this didn't scratch your itch, so to speak.

As always, comments and reactions are appreciated.

xoxoxo

Bring Me Back

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x gn!Reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings/Tags: Oral sex (Astarion receiving), slight hand/finger kink, body worship, mentions of blood & gore, trauma/trauma response, disassociation, fluff and angst and smut, p0rn with a little plot.

Summary: Astarion just needs some love and comfort from you after a particularly brutal fight.

*****

There was blood on his hands. Too much. Dried and crusted, saturating the wrinkles around his knuckles. He sat on the edge of the bed you were sharing, hands limp in his lap. 

He’d killed so many today. You all had, but he more so than anyone else. It had been a vicious battle, the reality of which seemed to be sinking into his bones now. 

“Astarion?” you ventured carefully. You were carrying in a water pitcher and basin you had pilfered from the cook’s quarters downstairs. 

He didn’t seem to register your voice. You tried again, moving cautiously to kneel on the floor before him. 

“Astarion?”

“Hmm?” he responded, his glassy eyes finally sharpening enough to take you in. “Oh, apologies, darling. My mind… it must’ve wandered.”

“Are you feeling all right?” you probed in a low murmur. 

“I feel…,” he trailed off, his head shifting to stare vacantly out the dingy window near the bedside. “Numb.”

“Numb?” you echoed.

“Mm. Disconnected, more like,” he amended distractedly. 

“Hm, I see,” you replied, unsure of what more there was to say. 

Certainly you could understand the feeling. And certainly it was justified, after the carnage you all had wrought today. No matter how noble the cause, things had still ended in a tide of blood and viscera. 

You were at a loss for how to comfort him. But the rational part of your brain settled on addressing the most immediate problem before you. Namely, the blood on his hands. 

“Astarion,” you soothed, waiting until he turned back to look down at you again. “I’d like to clean up your hands before we rest.”

He stared at you blankly. Then slowly, his gaze drifted down to his hands. He turned them over, palms up, studying them absently.

“Is that okay? Can I touch you?” you pressed. 

You knew his displeasure in being touched without warning. You’d seen his reactions frequently enough, on the road with your other companions. Each clap on the shoulder from Gale. Each good-natured shove from Karlach. His response was subtle, but not lost on you. He would grimace and shrink away. Every time.

“Touch me?” he repeated now, brows upturned.

“Yes,” you nodded. “To clean your hands of the blood, love.”

He shuddered. You watched as his fingertips twitched. His bottom lip trembled. 

“Please,” he uttered in a broken plea. 

You nodded again and set to work. Gingerly, you lifted each hand, cradling it with reverence. You passed the rag soaked in tepid, rose-scented water over each digit, in between them. You swiped under each nail, over each knuckle, clearing his fingers of blood, one by one. You soothed over his palms, over the patchwork of calluses on the pads of fingers, over the delicate skin of the backside of his palms. He watched you in silence as you carried out your cleaning, mesmerized. 

The basin was colored deep crimson by the time you finished. Grabbing a dry cloth, you patted his hands dry. You squeezed them both gently before moving to release them. You prepared to stand and get yourself ready for rest. 

But Astarion stopped you. His hands, once limp while you were caring for him, suddenly clutched yours desperately. Your eyes whipped up to meet his in surprise. They were limned in tears that had yet to fall. 

“Please,” he whispered in a desperate sort of voice. A whine, almost. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop touching me.”

You swallowed thickly, unsure of what to make of his plea. 

He plunged ahead at your reticence. “I can’t… I want to be here. In this moment. But I can’t find my way back,” he croaked. 

His voice, so broken, so desolate, was rending your heart in two. It was more than you could bear. 

“Touch me,” he begged. “Bring me back. Please.”

You nodded, never breaking eye contact, as you rose from your crouched position on the floor before him. Tears streamed silently down both of your faces. Neither of you made a move to wipe them away. 

Slowly, carefully, you urged him to shift back on the bed as your legs parted to straddle him. Perched atop his lap, you threaded your fingers through his silvery locks. Pulled on them slightly. Tugged at them until he groaned. 

His hands grasped your hip bones, hard enough that you were sure there would be finger-shaped bruises there tomorrow. You didn’t mind. You would cherish them, those marks from your lover. 

“Come back to me, love. Come back to me,” you whispered in between hot, open-mouthed kisses. Your tongues danced together, like old friends.

You nipped at the hollow place near his clavicle. You sucked on the skin where his neck met his shoulder. His needy, breathy whines only goaded you further. You hoped the fire that was igniting in your veins would transfer to his. If the way his hips were canting into you was any indication, you were both tinderboxes itching to be set ablaze. 

“Be here. Be here, in this moment with me,” you crooned in his ear, rolling your hips into his. You were both still fully dressed, but your bodies crested and fell together in perfect timing. A practice performance for what was to come. 

“Yes, yes,” Astarion keened, as you slipped a hand to brazenly rub the flat of your palm against his erection. The fabric of his breeches was strained to the point of stretching. 

“I’m here,” he panted. “I’m here.”

“Good, stay with me, I want to taste you,” you whispered. “Come back to me, let me taste you.”

“Fuck, please,” he moaned, his head drooping onto your shoulder. He was so pliant in this moment, like putty in your hands.

“Lie back,” you ordered, nudging him backwards with your body. “Untie your breeches.”

“Yes,” he agreed, all too eager to follow your command. Chest heaving, he reclined further back onto the bed. His fingers quickly set to work on freeing himself from his leathers. 

“That’s it, darling, yes,” you cooed, watching him bare himself before you. “Stay here with me. Watch me. Watch me keep you here.”

“Gods, yes, yes,” Astarion whined, lifting his head to witness you take him fully in your mouth. 

“Fuck,” you heard him bark wantonly above you. Felt his hips cant himself deeper into your mouth, until your lips were meeting the base of him. 

His dulcet whimpers and moans were music to your ears. As you worshiped him with your mouth. As you caressed him lovingly back into his body, back into this moment, back into this bed with you. 

You could sense he was close to climax as his hands gripped your hair tighter and tighter. You swirled your tongue around him with greater fervor, teasing him closer and closer to the edge. 

“Let me come in your mouth, please, darling, please,” he keened, hips bucking erratically against you. 

Refusing to bring him down from this high with words, you met his eyes and nodded your assent, gripping his thighs tighter as if to say go on then, love. 

And he did. He spilled himself down your throat in delicious pulses. You swallowed every bit, relishing his release as if it were your own. 

With a soft pop of your lips, you released him. Licked him clean, before stretching out to lie on the bed beside him.

His chest was heaving as he recovered. You delicately traced the muscles of his abdomen as he came to. After a few moments, he lifted a hand to clasp your fingers. Stilled them with his own as they interlaced on his chest. 

“Did you find your way back?” you whispered. 

He turned his head to look at you. His lips upturned in a quiet, muted sort of smile. 

“Thanks to you,” he returned quietly. “I’m here again. Here with you.”

[bihanspookies]

Hey I’d like a request 👉🏻👈🏻

Can I please have headcanons on how the lin Kuei brothers + Liu Kang and Raiden would react to catching their s/o in their clothes?

OOO my first request, thanks anon 🫶

I went a little diff with this, I hope you don’t mind 🧍‍♂️

Warnings: nothing really, scent kink?? In raidens?? But very minor

Bi-Han

• Wonders what in the hell you’re doing.

• Finds himself wanting to see if you’d put more of his uniform on. Depending on if you put it right or wrong, he’d show you the proper way.

• Not that it mattered because he was sure he’d take it all off after anyway.

• Stares in silence as he takes in your appearance, arms crossed over his chest and an unreadable expression on his face. It’s even more difficult to tell what he’s thinking bc he’s wearing his mask. He had walked in on you cleaning your bedroom. You had found some of his spare things, wearing his arm bands and gloves just to see how they’d fit. He studies you and the way you admired the fine details.

• Feels something stirring in his chest as you twisted and turned your arms, the gloves having to be readjusted since they kept sliding down a bit.

• Eventually walks up to you, his sudden looming presence over you causing you to jump in surprise. You barely have time to say anything before he gently but firmly grabs your jaw in his large hand.

“What is this? What are you doing?” His voice is gruff, so deep that you feel is vibrate throughout your sternum. You can’t help but stare in his dark eyes, getting lost in their depths as you try to think of a response.

“I was just… trying them on.” You finally reply, your voice low and meek.

He takes a deep breath, letting his eyes trail down your arms and then back to your face that was still being held by his hand.

“They suit you.” He runs his thumb over your lips, bringing it down to pull on your bottom one and drag over your chin. You can see something swirling in his eyes, something making a heat bloom in your stomach. He adjusts his grip on your jaw, grabbing you a bit tighter.

“Remove your clothes… but leave these on.”

Kuai Liang

• Keeps a neutral expression, but inside he’s entertained.

• Stands back and observes how you fidget with his mask to make sure it’s secured right.

• When he sees you pick up his kunai that’s when he gets a bit more alert but trusts that you have enough sense to not hurt yourself.

• Has an amused smirk on his face as he watches you click his mask into place and begin to gently twirl his kunai in a circle, arching your body away to not get nicked.

• He’s ready to step in if he sees you start to get out of hand but otherwise he’s enjoying you pretending to be him. He wonders briefly how you would look in his entire uniform and the thought has his smile grow just a bit more.

• Thinks about how his signature color of yellow would look a little too good against your skin and clears his throat before walking up to you.

“Shall we get you a mask of your own?” He mirths, a twinkle in his eyes. He grabs the kunai from you, adjusting it in your hands to have you hold it properly.

“Nah I quite like stealing and wearing yours.” Your voice is a bit muffled from his mask, eyes crinkling in the corners as you don’t even try and hide your smile.

His eyebrows raise, a quiet ‘oh’ on his lips before grinning. He tilts your head up with a knuckle under your chin, leaning down to whisper something in your ear.

“Maybe I will use it to silence you tonight.”

Tomas

• Contrary to popular belief I think he would be a bit more serious when it comes to you putting his uniform on. His uniform is a symbol of his honor and dedication to the Lin Kuei so he wears it with pride and doesn’t necessarily want you to wear it ‘just for fun’. Especially since he feels he has more to prove to his brothers.

• Taps his fingers against his crossed arms as he watches you adjust the top on yourself, running his tongue over his teeth when he sees you putting it on wrong. Goes up to you to help you put it on right, tugging it down and securing the straps. He’s not exactly gentle as he fixes it.

• You can see that he’s tense but all it takes is one soft look and he’s letting his shoulders relax and letting out a breath.

• You smile up at him and he takes a moment to look at you, taking in your features before dropping his gaze back to his uniform top.

• He’s more tender as he adjusts it, his fingers brushing against your skin. And when he goes behind you to check everything, he leans in close to your ear.

• His hands come around the front to pat you down, making your cheeks heat up a bit.

“You look good moje láska. Almost like a true Lin Kuei.” His voice is low and hot in your ear, a shiver running up your spine. He backs up and you turn around, taking in how he stands with his arms crossed, chin pointed up and out, light grey eyes shining brilliantly.

“I should put on the rest of the uniform then, huh?” You laugh, swallowing to sooth your suddenly parched throat. His aura changed, filling the air with a thick tension. He shakes his head, putting a hand up.

“Don’t bother, I’m going to take it all off anyway.”

He turns his hand palm up, silently demanding for yours and of course you comply. He tugs you to him, placing his hand on the small of your back as he takes his gaze up and down your body.

“I will teach you the true strength of a Lin Kuei.”

Liu Kang

• More laid back when it comes to this.

• Loves that you allow him to have these simple little moments with you, being a god doesn’t always give him the grace of having memories like these.

• He’s got a full grin on his face as he walks in on you wearing his headband and slipping your arms through the sleeves of his top.

• He can’t help but quietly chuckle as he watches you struggle to try and button it up, a thoughtful hand on his chin in amusement.

• He stays silent as he continues to observe you, biting back his laughter as you manage to get one button but then it immediately pops open.

• This time he makes his presence known, walking up to you to kiss your cheek and help with the buttons.

“You know this is meant to stay open, yes?”

You laugh and nod, feeling a small heat on your cheeks now aware that he was watching you fumble with his shirt this entire time.

“Seems like a design flaw if there are buttons for something that wasn’t meant to be buttoned.

His fingers start to do them but you place a hand on top of his to stop his movements.

“Leave it open. I should wear it properly right?”

His smirk takes over his lips, his hands dropping back to their sides and he steps back a bit. He watches you turn around, a teasing glance over your shoulder as you slowly drop his shirt off your shoulders. His glowing eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin.

Once his top is hanging in the crooks of your elbows, wastes no time in pressing himself against your back and putting his lips on your cheek.

“Perhaps I should show you how to properly take it off next.”

Raiden

• Thinks you look cute no matter what but in anything of his?

• Feels his love grow for you tenfold

• He walks into your room after a long hard day on the farm, shirtless and sweaty and fanning himself with a menu had had taken from Madam Bo’s. He couldn’t find his hat in the early morning so unfortunately he had to work without it in the blistering sun.

• He was ready to ask if you had seen it but stops when he sees it sitting right on your head, twisting and turning your neck to check yourself out in the mirror. He’s confused at first, wondering why you hadn’t given it to him in the first place.

• Until you say that you wanted to surprise him and fix it up.

• Blinks at you in shock because he didn’t think it needed fixing/that you noticed it wearing down.

“You… fixed it for me? Really?”

You nod and he can feel the tips of his start to redden, your kind gesture warming his heart and making him a bit flustered.

“I noticed it coming apart in some places and wanted to patch it up for you.”

His eyes soften and he looks at his hat on top of your head, admiring the fine work you did on it. You go to take it off but he stops you, removing your hands from the brim.

“It looks good on you darling, leave it on.” His voice is soft and steady but he can feel the blood on his ears rushing to color the rest of his face.

You smile at him and kiss his cheek, breathing in the scent of him working outside all day. It makes heat stir in your belly, having you nose your way up his throat and to his ear.

“Maybe it can be the only thing I leave on later tonight.”

Your suggestion has him flustered, stuttering out a response as he tries to form a coherent thought.

[scribblesofagoonerr]

— a lot of reserved feelings | buddy & monkey: double the trouble - the prequel

so i got an anon hc asking about how monkey be with lia at the start and this is the result of it.

thank you to @alotofpockets and @lvnleah for the help and support with this one!

“Why do I need to stay with her? I’m fine by myself!” You shouted in annoyance through the house, making your feelings perfectly well clear.

You weren’t happy about this decision at all.

“Because I said so,” The blonde was quick to reply.

You scowled at the blonde across from you and let out a loud huff,  “That’s not a proper reason though!”

“It’s the reason I’m giving you and I’ve made my final decision about it now, so I don’t want to hear anymore whining about it, alright?” Leah told you, sternly.

You were definitely not in agreement about this whole idea, but apparently you didn’t get a say in these things.

The whole idea of being left alone with people other than Leah, Jordan and Kim made you feel anxious and you really didn’t like it, not one bit.

Usually if you had to stay with anyone other than Leah and Jordan, it would be Kim, however due to her making other plans, it meant that she was unavailable to do so this time.

So, unfortunately for you, Lia volunteered instead.

It’s not that you didn’t like the woman, after all she was your team mate and she was nice, but you just didn’t know her well enough to not have your guard up around her.

Therefore the reason you weren’t happy about it.

“Look, I know you’re not happy about this kid, but just go along with this one, will you?” Jordan spoke up, trying to keep the peace in the house between you and Leah.

“I don’t see why I have to stay with Lia– I’m perfectly capable of staying home alone!” You still continued to further insist against the idea, “I don’t even know her that well!”

“Lia is nice and she’s part of the team, so it’ll be good to hang out with her other than through the club, won’t it?” Jordan still tried her luck to get you to agree to this one, “Come on, I know you don’t like this but just agree to this time, yeah? Just to put the pregnant lady’s stress at bay in the meantime.” She joked, trying to keep the mood in the room light.

“Fine, whatever. I still don’t like it though!” You made your feelings perfectly valid that you were definitely not happy about this, but if it meant keeping Leah stress free with her due date around the corner then you would go along with it.

"Monkey! Lia's here, are you going to come downstairs and say hello?" You heard Leah shout from downstairs to get your attention.

"Guess I got no choice," You thought to yourself, not bothering to move from your bed where you had bundled yourself in a blanket and made yourself comfy watching a marvel film.

Could it be worse?

"Hey kid," Jordan poked her hear around your bedroom door, "Lia's here now, so we're gonna be going soon." She explained.

You peered to look at her from where you lay on your bed, "I know, I just heard Leah shout upstairs to me."

"You gonna come and say hi then?" The older women wondered, hoping that you would be a bit more willing to come downstairs than you have been since you heard about it overall.

"Do I have a choice about it?" You remarked, more than aware you most likely did not.

Jordan shrugged her shoulders in response, "Well I guess it would be polite to at least say hello to her kid."

"Fine, alright then," You couldn't help but huff, pausing the film and slump of your bed to make your way downstairs to see Leah and Lia having a conversation between them.

"Are you sure you don't mind watching her?" You overheard Leah question as she moved slowly round the house to make sure she had everything she needed for their night out.

"No, it's not a problem at all. I'm happy to help out when needed!" Lia replied, taking her coat off and making herself at home.

You could see Leah giving the woman a weary smile, "Only if you're sure about this? Monkey can tend to be a bit reserved around people that she doesn't know that well." She explained, briefly.

"I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't sure about it, Le," Lia chuckled slightly and shook her head, "I'm sure I can handle a teenager for a few hours!"

"You know I can hear you, right?" You quipped, walking down the stairs to make your presence known, "I already said I didn't need a babysitter, but none of you would listen." You added, still continuing to make your feelings known about this.

"Ah, here's the menace," Leah joked, spotting you appear down the stairs with Jordan behind her, "You know we just feel more reassured if you had someone here with you, Monkey." She explained, trying to make her reasoning a bit more clearer.

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes and huffed once again, "You worry too much, I'd be fine!"

The blonde clicked her tongue in disapproval, "Well what you call me worrying is what I call myself caring," She stated as she picked up her purse, "Lia is here to take care of you so please don't be giving her a hard time about this, alright?"

"Fine, whatever," You grumbled in protest.

Jordan nudged your shoulder slightly and smiled at you, "Come on kid, we talked about this, didn't we? Just stay here with Lia for us and don't make a fuss about it," She tried her luck to get you to be more willing again to agree, "Just do it for Leah's peace of mind, eh?" She reminded you.

"Anythin' to save the wrath of a pregnant women," You remarked cheekily, rolling your eyes.

"Exactly, you know how protective she is and especially this late at night, yeah?" Jordan playfully joked, slinging her arm around your shoulder and having to lean up a bit since you were just that bit taller than her.

You groaned in annoyance and slumped your shoulders, "Ugh alright, fine, but I'm still not happy with this though!"

"Good girl," Leah walked back in on the tail end of the conversation and pressed a gentle kiss on the top of your head, "Alright, we shouldn't be back too late. Remember to go to bed at a reasonable time, alright?" She reminded you.

"I'm not a child," You grumbled in response.

"Yes you are," The blonde chuckled and ruffled your hair, "Bed at a sensible time and don't be staying up too late, alright?" She repeated.

"Yeah yeah, fine alright," Begrudgingly you agreed to save an argument, although you sometimes found it hard to sleep and you didn't know exactly how well you'd be sleep without familiar people in the house.

"That's my girl," Leah stated, lightly kissing you on the top of your head again, "Have fun!" She waved, heading out of the front door.

"Sure, mandatory fun. It sounds somewhat wonderful," You sarcastically remarked, sticking your hands in your pockets, "Buh-bye now!" You waved goodbye to them both.

"Thanks again for watching her tonight Lia," Jordan thanked the women with a kind smile, "I hope she doesn't give you too much of a hard time." She joked, motioning to you where you awkwardly stood in front of the stairs.

"Please, I'm delightful!" You insist, trying to make it seem like your fine with this when your definitely most not.

You felt nervous and you really didn't like this at all.

"I'm sure we'll have fun," Lia chuckled, sending you a small smile, "Have fun you two!" She said, waving them both off as they left the house.

"So then, what is it that you like to do when your not playing football?" Lia questioned, being the first to break the silence in the room between the two of you.

Shrugging your shoulders in response, you barely acknowledge Lia, "I watch movies and stuff."

"Oh," Lia's facial expression turned to surprised, "Is there one that you would like to watch?" She wondered, you guess somewhat hopeful you'd take her up on the idea of that.

"No, I'm fine," You disagreed, shaking your head.

You didn't feel safe, you just wanted to bury yourself under your duvet cover and shelter away in safety.

You knew Lia but it didn't mean you felt comfortable with her.

You couldn't help but have your walls up again with a complete stranger practically, since you only know her from being a part of the club.

"Okay then, that's alright if you don't want too. Is there anything that you do want to do?" Lia wondered, trying to figure out how best to interact with you.

You shook your head in disagreement again, "Nope."

"Alright then, well if you change your mind--" Lia began to speak until you abruptly cut her off.

"Why are you here?" You snapped at the older woman.

Lia looked taken back at your sudden change of mood, "I'm here so you're not alone, Monkey. Leah told you that already though." She explained, frowning slightly.

Shaking your head, you furrowed your eyebrow and began to pace the floor, "I don't get why you're here-- I already told them that I don't need a babysitter!" You exclaimed, loudly.

"I'm sure they just want to know you have someone here with you, you know?" Lia tried to be a voice of reason, however, she wasn't exactly sure what to do in this situation right now.

"I don't need you here... I don't! I am perfectly fine to take care of myself, I don't need anyone checking up on me either!" With that, you stomp off back in the direction of the stairs and leave Lia sat downstairs dumbfounded.

"Why are you allowing me to just ignore you while you're here?" You murmured, wandering down the stairs a few hours later in the night to see Lia sat watching a television program quietly.

Lia paused the TV and looked directly at you, "Well if you think that me ignoring you is what you need then who I am to stand in the way of that?" She wondered.

"Yeah well, you can go home. You don't need to stay here," You told her, firmly because you still didn't understand why she was still here.

Why hadn't she left?

You had found the comfort of your bedroom, your type of safe haven, but yet you still couldn't help but wrap the idea of Lia willingly let you ignore her for the past several hours that she has been here.

It didn't make a whole lot of sense, did it?

"I'm here because I care about you Monkey," Lia told you sincerely, "I also understand that you need space and me pushing you won't help that."

You didn't miss a chance to roll your eyes, "You don't even understand how I feel!"

"I'm far from perfect myself and I do remember being a teenager, so I know that me trying to yell at you or even trying to force to you talk won't solve anything, would it?" Lia questioned, trying to keep the situation from getting too tense.

"Oh, you think you're so wise, huh?" You couldn't help but scoff, "Just because you're older, you think you know everything about how I feel?" You questioned, trying to figure out where you would hit a nerve.

You don't mean to push buttons, but you did wonder how much could you say to push her away?

You don't know whether you could trust her right now or not, there's one way to find out.

Lia shook her head in disagreement, "No, I don't know everything but I am trying to be here for you in a way that you need." She explained, honestly.

"You're not doing a great job of it, so maybe you should just leave if you can't handle it," You still continued to try and rile the woman up, trying to figure out how much further you could push her.

"You think I can't handle it? I've dealt with worse than a frustrated teenager," Lia had an amused expression on her face, "I'm here because I care about you, no matter how hard you find that hard to believe, alright?"

Right there and then, you felt too stunned to speak about things.

"If you want to try and push me away then go ahead but I'm still going to be here for you," The older woman stated, gently as she gave you a reassuring smile, "No matter how long it takes for you to trust me, Monkey. I won't leave you alone." She added.

With Lia's words fresh in the back of your head, you couldn't help but wonder if she actually was being truthful about what she said.

"I wouldn't blame you if you did want to leave, you know? I haven't exactly been that nice to you tonight," You spoke up, shuffling from one sock clad foot to the other as you fumbled with her hands.

Lia gave you another sympathetic smile, "Your a teenager, Monkey. I take no offence to it. Like I said before, I'm not going to leave you." She repeated her words.

"Why not? Other people have, you wouldn't be any different to do the same," You can't help but wonder why she hasn't indeed left, like so many other people have done in the past.

"I can understand why you don't trust easily and it's okay to have your guard up," The older woman explained honestly, "But I want you to know that you can trust me, I know I haven't known you for as long as Leah and Jordan have, but I do care about you." She added.

"You do?" You looked at her in complete surprise.

Lia nodded in agreement and smiled, "Yes, I do. Not just as my team mate but as a person."

You feel like there's a small piece of you that can begin to trust Lia know, a sense of knowing that if there is something wrong that the woman would listen to you and have your back about it.

Maybe Lia is a safe person then?

"Lia," You murmured quietly, waiting for her acknowledgement, "Would you uh, would you maybe like to watch a film?" You questioned, hesitantly.

Lia beamed a wide smile, "I would love to watch a movie with you, Monkey. Which one would you like to watch?" She wondered.

"Really? Awesome!" You all but flopped onto the sofa beside her as she passed you the remote, "Have you ever watched Shrek?" You questioned.

"No, I haven't," Lia replied, confused at the movie title.

You spun your head around to look at her and gasped, "What?! You... You've never watched Shrek?!" You questioned in disbelief, "You have to see it, I'm puttin' it on, right now!" You insisted.

"Okay if you insist," The older woman chuckled in amusement as she briefly checked the time on her watch, "How about you and change into your pajamas and I'll make us some hot chocolate for when you come back?" She suggested when she realised that you were still in the clothes from the day.

"Hot chocolate?" Your eyes did light up at the mention of that, you were an absolute sucker for them, "With whipped creams and marshmallows, right?" You double checked with her.

"It wouldn't be a proper one without it, would it?" Lia joked, patting your knee lightly, "Go on upstairs and I'll start to make them." She told you, gesturing in the direction of the stairs.

You didn't have to be told twice as you dipped off upstairs to get changed into comfy pajamas, before dragging one of the fluffy blankets you have collected back down the stairs into the living room to get settled on the sofa while Lia finished making the hot chocolates.

"That was quick," Lia smiled as she walked back into the living room with 2 steaming mugs of hot chocolate in her hands, "Eager for the hot chocolate, huh?" She teased you lightly.

"Duh its' hot chocolate!" You exclaimed, reaching out eagerly for it from the Swiss woman's hands, "I can't believe you haven't watched Shrek before. You need to educate yourself!"

Lia chuckled and settled back on the sofa beside you, "Well you'd better show me what it's all about then, eh?" She joked with you.

"Be prepared to amazed then," You were determined to leave an impression with this film as you scouted through the TV to find it as it began as the familiar dreamwork logo appeared on the screen.

"How many times have you watched this film then?" Lia wondered, laughing in amusement as she saw you literally bouncing up and down in your seat, "I feel I should be concerned with how excited you are."

"Sh, it's starting!" You butted in as the film started to play to stop her talking any longer, "No talkin'!" You declared, firmly.

You didn't waste the time to bop along to the music at the start, all but leaning forward to watch it for what was probably the hundredth times.

"This is the part where you run away," You whisper the words from the start of the movie, Lia just watched you and shook her head in amusement, "I'm not a puppet. I'm a real boy!"

The two of you watched the movie, of course you yapped on the whole way through reciting the movie quotes as you were so familiar with and Lia was just happy to see you slowly opening up to her.

"Hey, wait a minute! I got a great idea! I'll stick with you!" You exclaimed loudly still continuing to speak the movie quotes aloud, "I like that boulder, that is a nice boulder."

"So, have many times have you watched it now?" Lia repeated her question in amusement, shaking her head in complete amusement until you scowled at her, "Alright, noted. I'll stop talkin' until it finishes." She joked.

You nod in agreement as you continued to watch the film, "We can stay up late swapping manly stories and in the morning, I'm making waffles!" You repeated it again, word for word, "WhAt ArE yOu DoIn' In My SwAmP!?"

"Do you know all the words to this-- Alright, right, got it. No talking, I remember," Lia couldn't help but laugh and held her hands up in mock protest when she saw the dirty scowl you still continued to give her.

Despite your excitement, you still didn't manage to make it through the first film before a wave of exhaustion washed over you and you found yourself trying to fight to stay awake.

Even though it seemed be impossible to do exactly that.

"Someones' getting tired, huh?" Lia joked, watching you as you tried to keep your eyes pried open, "How about we turn the film off and you head up to bed?" She suggested.

"Nuh-uh, its' not over yet!" You protested against the idea, literally shuffling your body to lean up against hers, "M' not even that tired yet."

"I don't think that's true is it?" Lia remarked, stifling her laughter but allowed you to curl up beside her.

"Yer don't know what yer talkin' about!" You grumbled as you continued to fight to stay awake, all but resting your head on her chest as the older woman smiled and without much thinking started to thread her fingers through your hair.

It did work wonders to make you fall asleep through as less then 10 minutes all that could be heard is the sound of your soft snores.

"That worked a charm," Lia thought to herself as she still continued to her fingers through your hair.

Really the woman thought it would be best to move you to your bed but you looked so peaceful asleep, and from what she heard previously you hadn't been sleeping all that well the past few nights so you could do well so probably get some sleep.

It wasn't all that long before a key was heard turning in the door before Leah and Jordan stumbled through the door from their night at the awards ceremony.

"Hi, we're back," Leah whispered aloud, more than aware you were fast asleep upstairs or so she thought at least, not realizing that you were in fact downstairs on the sofa instead as she unfastened the straps on her shoes.

"Hi, we're in here," Lia's voice quietly spoke out to the two women, careful to not jolt you awake from your deep slumber.

"Hello," Jordan's voice whispered through the house as she unfastened her shoes and followed Leah into the living room.

"How's she been-- Oh, I didn't realise she was asleep down here," Leah tried to speak quieter than previous as she smiled softly at your sleeping state, "Has she been out long?"

"About half an hour now. I thought she might've stirred though when she heard you both come home," Lia admitted to the two women, shifting carefully to avoid you waking up still.

Jordan smiled and took note of the television, "Oh I see she's got you watching Shrek, she loves them films," She chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, "Did she recite it word for word?" She questioned.

Lia laughed and nodded in agreement, "Oh yes, I got a few scowls when I tried to talk." She told them.

"That doesn't surprise me," Leah laughed in response and peered down to look at you, "She looks comfy, I didn't expect her to be curled up to you. Thank you for looking after her tonight, has she been okay?" She wondered, curiously.

"It was a little bit rocky at first but we talked," Lia explained to the blonde defender, "I think she's starting to come around now so that's a start." She added, accepting it would take a while for you to come out of your shell.

"One day at a time," Jordan chipped in as she smiled fondly down at you fast asleep, "I'll wake her up and take her upstairs to bed." She offered, kneeling down beside your sleeping form.

"I think she's completely out of it," Leah chuckled in amusement.

"Monkey, wake up, kid," Jordan gently nudged you to wake you up.

You slowly opened your eyes tiredly as you realised that Jordan and Leah were both back now, "You're back." You murmured in a state of still being half asleep.

"We are," Jordan chuckled, shaking her head in amusement, "Come on, time for bed, kid."

You let out a small groan and stretched a bit before you just stared at her tiredly, "My legs are too tired to walk," You mumbled before you let out a yawn, "I wan' more sleep."

"You can sleep once your upstairs in your own bed," Leah piped in amusedly as she watched you start to close your eyes again, "Bed time, Monkey." She repeated.

"M' fine," You waved them off as you started to shut your eyes once again, "I wan' stay asleep down here cos' I'm comfy." You didn't remember falling asleep where you did on Lia and your pretty sure that if you were more awake you wouldn't be so keen to be virtually lying on top of her but you were in a such tired state that you didn't care at this point.

Jordan chuckled and despite the height difference, your weighed considerably less so she was able to lift you up from Lia and comfortably hold you up in her own arms, "I'm gonna take sleepy head up to bed." She gestured in the direction of the stairs.

"Wait, wait, no... I gotta show Lia the rest of the Shrek movies," You jolted in Jordan's arms as you suddenly realised it and the older woman chuckled, "Can she please stay the night so we can watch them all tomorrow? Pretty pretty pleaseee!" You pleaded with the two older women.

Leah laughed in amusement, "Well that is fine with us, but maybe you should ask Lia first if she'd want too, huh?" She teased you, shuffling past you as she ruffled your hair.

"Lia, will you stay? Please! That way we can watch all the Shrek movies!" You exclaimed, secretly hoping that the women would indeed stay, "Please, please, you have to stay!" You begged and pleaded with her.

"Don't worry, I'll spend the night," Lia smiled and nodded in agreement, "I can't wait to watch the rest of the Shrek movies." She added.

"You'll regret saying that," Leah joked and shook her head, "Right, you, go to bed, its' late." She pointed towards the direction of the stairs before she kissed the top of your head.

"The night is still early," You grumbled in protest, fighting to stay awake in Jordan's arms, "We could even make time to watch another film!"

"I don't think so, there'll be plenty of time to watch more tomorrow," The blonde stated in disagreement as she laughed, "Sweet dreams, Monkey."

You let another yawn escape your mouth unwillingly, "Night Le, night Lia!" You murmured, the exhaustion taking over you once again as you rested your head on Jordan's shoulder as you felt you move up the stairs, "Can't wait for the Shrek marathon tomorrow!"

© scribblesofagoonerr

[tmntxthings]

(First of saw your recent ask with the anon and I hope you’re feeling a bit better since answering that! Please don’t rush to answer this or your other requests and i hope you feel better soon!)

I AM CHEWING ON YOUR DONNIE X READER WORKS OML BRO WHAT ARE YOU FEEDING YOUR INNER WRITER YOUR WORK IS ✨DIVINE✨ 😔👌

I cant resist making a request but you know Donnie flies/hovers with his battle shell in some episodes right to get around?? So what if Donnie having an s/o who is fascinated by the idea of flying, so one day, after much pestering Donnie gives in and decides to fly them around New York for a bit. BUT only if he is there with them, cuz Donnie is not about to have a stress induced heart 

attack if they loose balance. 

Donnie himself doesn’t really understand the fascination with flying cuz….well nothing is especially different, it’s just the city but from high up. But then mid sentence he looks to his partner and stares in silent awe at the fascination twinkling in their eyes as they admire the view??

I’m sorry I’m such a goddam sucker for this sort of stuff

一∑ Nights Like These 。・゜・

author’s notes: you paint a pretty picture anon, I could see it all play out thru my head! hope you enjoy <3

warnings: fluff, unedited

—————————————————————————

“Y’know what would be cool?”

Donatello blinked, his stare deadpanned. He was over this. You had asked so many times already. And each time, he had given you his answer. A resounding no. So he continued to tap at his phone while you sidled up next to him on the couch.

“Donnieeeeeee!”

A drawn eyebrow twitched. He wasn’t going to deign that with a response. You were being trivial at this point.

“Please!”

He let out a long sigh. Clicking his phone shut as dark irises finally turned in your direction. By this point it was clear you were never going to let it go. The word no, didn’t exist in your vocabulary. At least not when it came to the possibility of flying.

With his attention now on you, a speech was suddenly underway.

“I’ll do everything you say! Take a whole Donnie-training-course on how to fly a jetpack!! Just let me try! Please! Pretty please!”

You sure did know how to beg. Maybe it was unfair of him. But he didn’t like the idea of you in the air at all. You weren’t exactly known for coordination. You sucked at driving video games. How would you be able to command a jetpack that could go from zero to a hundred in seconds flat?

It was dangerous.

You could get injured or worse! There were so many terrible scenarios that ran through Donnie’s mind, he almost went back on his phone. But your hands latched onto his arm, pulling his thoughts back to the here and now.

“Nothing bad will happen! You’ll be right there beside me!!”

It was weird how you knew exactly what to say. Exactly how to sway him. Maybe his face was an open book, or maybe you just knew how to read him too well. This time his sigh was one of defeat.

You cheered.

~

After many, many lessons Donnie finally felt it was safe enough for you to put the jetpack on.

By this point you knew what all of the buttons did. All sorts of emergency protocols. And you may even be considered a certified pilot depending on the country.

Rigorous couldn’t even begin to describe what regiment Donnie had put you through. But it all paid off in the end. Because now you were strapped in.

“Alright, looks like it fits. How does it feel? I designed this one according to your specs.”

Donnie was circling around you. A hand underneath his chin as he looked for a reason to call the whole thing off. But you were on the moon.

“It’s perfect! Oh my gosh, I can’t believe it. Finally!! We get to fly together!!”

How could he shatter that bright smile of yours now? He’d put this off long enough. So he nodded, and led the charge out of the lair.

~

“Remember, if you feel out of control—“

You cut him off before he could finish.

“Don, I know! Stop and hover. Can I power on now?”

“No not yet we have to go through all of… Y/N!”

There was no patience left within you as Donnie kept talking so you just took off mid-sentence. He hollered after you. He took chase, his own jetpack roaring to life.

You were going way too fast. Donnie couldn’t tell if you were even under control! Just above the rooftops you flew by. Weaving past units and it became clear that you did know how to fly. His anxiety lessened but he still kept tailing you. Just in case.

At one point you slowed down enough for Donnie to be flying right by your side. Your smile dazzled him as you glanced over. Eyes twinkling in awe as you pointed out the bridge where Donnie and his brothers did the pizza box stacking competition.

“Race you there!”

You shouted and not a second later you were going max speed.

Now you may be a natural but Donnie had been flying far longer than you. The only advantage you did have was a slight head start. The wind picked up as the two of you flew higher. The finish line apparently being the highest point on the bridge.

Donnie won. He knew the best path to take after all from a projected route via his goggles. He watched as you made it to him. Slowing down and then circling him in the air while you laughed out in joy.

“This is amazing!!”

You exclaimed as you landed in front of him. It was high up, the wind whipping past the both of you. But the cold didn’t seem to affect your spirits at all. Your arms were raised in the air, back turned to him, whooping out for all of New York to hear. None of them would, not even the passengers in their zooming cars below. But Donnie could.

His heart did a strange thump beneath his plastron. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He felt a little breathless.

“Thank you! I- just, thank you for this! I never thought in my lifetime I’d be able to do something so… so..!”

The words were slipping from you as you had faced Donnie to express your gratitude. This was something that only happened in movies. That only happened in dreams! Your hands came up and moved in an expression that tried to convey how big this all felt to you. These emotions!

“We can do it again. However many times you like.”

Donnie replied after a moment.

You didn’t let the shock pass your features. You had wondered if he would let you fly again. So you had tried to get it all out of your system. Not knowing if the first would be your last. You smiled brightly for him.

“My worries seem to have been for nothing. You’re a natural at flying.”

A compliment. You could only smile brighter.

“Well, I don’t know about all that,”

And his mouth opened to argue. Not liking how you were putting yourself down. But before he could you continued.

“I had a great teacher!”

You mused at how his mouth snapped shut. His eyes darting away, a hand coming up to rub the back of his bandana.

“Really. He was the best! He’s too smart!”

He had to turn away as the compliments kept coming. Had the wind stopped? It was suddenly a bit warm up here. You had the nerve to giggle at his shyness before you powered up your jetpack again.

He turned immediately back to you, expecting you to take off again. But this time you hovered. Offering your hand to Donnie. He couldn’t help but take in the view. The night sky your backdrop, few stars even more satellites. But it was as if you were glowing before him.

His own hand reached out, fingers brushing against your palm, before taking a firm grip.

He held your hand.

[lixopoo]

I see general dating cannons so that with a zzz Belle x Reader. Also can you do the backstory portion around this idea?

Essentially they hired the reader as to basically be the manager of the store and eventual alibi for their illegal operations. You know once Belle trusts them enough to show what’s behind the door.

✶ Belle dating headcanons w backstory!

⇢ Belle x gn!reader ;

⇢ type - headcanons ;

⇢ tags - fluff , kisses , hugs ;

⇢ Thanks for the first request, Anon! I tried to give it my all and spend a little more time on the backstory, I hope it’s okay.

⋆ Due to the huge number of orders that fell on Belle and Wise, they were forced to hire a manager. Since there was no Fairy at that time, their meters were normal and they did not spend much on electricity, so they could provide a salary for their future employee.

⋆ By placing an order on the Internot, you quickly responded to it and were able to come to them almost immediately. You already had a little experience working in small shops, so the siblings immediately liked you, especially Belle for being open, responsive and grasping everything on the fly.

⋆ Of course, you were interested in the room in which they constantly disappeared, but you appreciated their privacy and tried not to be arrogant, although you tried to peek several times, but bangboo didn't give you the opportunity.

⋆ After a few months of work, you got completely used to the store, but you felt a little lonely, since only the visitors and the Eighteenth talked to you, it even seems to you that you yourself began to turn into a bangboo with your speech.

⋆ After the appearance of the Fairy, money for electricity began to be required five times more, your salary was cut a little, but you did not complain, and Belle began to look a little worse due to eye ailments, so she often lay in her room. Seeing how unwell she was, you started visiting her from time to time, bringing tea and all sorts of goodies, to which she was very grateful.

⋆ During this, you got close to her and accidentally said that sometimes it can be very lonely in the store without her, because she radiates positive energy, without which it can be difficult.

⋆ After she felt better, she suddenly shoved all the orders where her help was not needed onto her brother and started spending more time with you. You went to buy new films together, put them on the shelves together, went to eateries together and walked even in your free time.

⋆ A week later, after closing, when you were putting the films back on the shelves, Belle suddenly quietly ran up to you and hugged you from behind, almost dropping you. You were surprised, but only smiled gently in response, turning your head a little.

"You know, Wise and I have consulted here and... we have something to show you!"

⋆ Taking you by the hand and slowly leading you to the door, looking at you, a smile shone on her face, but it was clear how she was a little nervous, squeezing your hand tighter.

"You've been with us for a long time, and I see how lonely and unpleasant it can be for you not knowing what's behind this door, and since we already fully trust you ..."

⋆ Opening the door and running inside, stopping next to Wise, who was already standing there, she was still smiling brightly while her brother stood with his usual expression, one hand on his hip.

"We are Phaethon!"

⋆ You stood with your mouth open for three minutes, looking around the whole room and processing all this information in your head. Did you have any suspicions based on the Cunning Hares constantly running towards them and the suspicious conversations that you heard pressed against this door, but that the people with whom you have been so close for a long time were Phaeton?

⋆ Because of your silence, Belle got even more excited rushing to you, taking your hand and stretching into the depths of the room. After recovering from the shock, you quickly apologized, grinning, and said that it was just unexpected for you.

⋆ After a month, everything was smoothed out and you even sometimes helped them with their tasks. The secret of your reduced salary was revealed, and the Fairy, because of your close relationship with Belle, began to treat you better than Wise.

⋆ You spent all your free time with Belle, walking around the city, holding hands, or lying in her bed in an embrace while she told funny stories from her assignments, and you about awkward moments with clients.

⋆ She loved kissing you everywhere, and melted when you kissed her on the cheek or on the lips, which tasted soft and tender.

⋆ She hardly left your side and looked upset when she left to do the proxy's work. You didn't want to embarrass Wise, so they didn't come into the room just to put their arms around her neck while she was sitting at the computer, even if there were no customers at all.

⋆ She loved to give you little gifts, so you had a lot of paired things, from phone key chains to clothes, and it all looked cute.

⋆ You both very often watched movies in an embrace, kicking Wise out of the room, but he did not want to interfere with your spending time together, although Belle did not forget about her brother and did not leave him alone, sometimes observing the evening viewing of other films.

⋆ She is very glad that she met you and is very grateful for all the care that you give her.

I hope you're happy with everything, don't be afraid to correct me! I very often deviate from the topic itself, so I apologize if something does not suit you :(

[biolumien]

HELLO!! i dont normally send requests (up to a year in tumblr, i have only sent.. 2. including this one.) but i was wondering if you write platonic stuff? :') im deadly inlove with your works, never fails to disappoint huhuu and i adore them, and if you do, do you mind writing a hoshina x younger sibling reader? maybe they have a bad relationship with him and tries to make it up by joining the third division so that they could get closer, but he's just giving the cold shoulder and ignoring them. in the end the reader gets injured - hopefully this isn't too detailed!! i was also wondering if you take anons.. if you do - could i be 🐾 anon? mentioning this again but i seriously do love your works they're all so well written 🥹

notes: aaaa?!?!? im really honored that you decided to request something from me;; fun fact im actually an only child (lol) so i hope this is something you were looking for!! (i am still a bit sick >_<...

siblings, siblings...

soshiro hoshina & sibling!reader general description of injury and blood on your end. word count: 899

you and soshiro were never really close. as the youngest of the hoshina family and with the best unleashed combat power in guns, you were often lauded as the family’s best chance in the defense force—which put you at odds with soshiro’s utter lack of combat power in the firearms department. you’d tried to reach out—to talk, to do anything—but soichiro and soshiro never had time for you. 

or well, it seemed as if soshiro considered you his number one enemy. the antithesis of his existence—that by the fact you existed, it seemed as if he would be utterly worthless after all. 

when you transferred to the third division, you received no acknowledgement from soichiro or soshiro. 

“i trust you will lay your life down for the cause as effectively as you have in other divisions,” mina said to you on the day you were sworn in, your brother at her side. 

he didn’t look at you. 

“you have quite the impressive resume,” mina had said. “second and first division positions. an easy shoo-in for division leader right after gen narumi. what made you decide to enter the third division?” 

you’d swallowed, watching soshiro very pointedly not looking at you. 

“i… no reasons, in particular,” you’d lied. “just… um… curious in expanding my options. is all.” 

soshiro’s eyes had been cold. 

it was clear where the two of you stood, and soshiro wanted nothing to do with you, even if you’d basically demoted yourself from a cushy spot in the first division for it. the two of you rarely spoke—and if he ever acknowledged you at all, it was with one word responses or an affirmative, very stiff nod, as if it killed him utterly and completely to acknowledge you. 

were the two of you sweet once? had you run around the hoshina estate giggling once? had that been you?

…

would it ever be you again, even if it had? 

(you remember the taste of konpeito that soshiro would sneak you from soichiro’s collection of sweets, and he would raise a finger to his lips, telling you it was a secret.)

(but then why did you remember the feeling of asphalt against your feet on the days where soshiro seemed to forget to train as he dragged you towards the grass to play chase?)

(then why did you remember the times where you’d have a bad nightmare, but never felt brave enough to go to soichiro, so you’d always gone to soshiro instead? he’d laughed, cocky and brilliant even late at night and told you not to worry because he’d cut up your bad dreams. and you believed him, because he was your big brother and he’d never been wrong, never been cruel the way soichiro was to you and soshiro.)

why did you have to remember all of that?

you cough out a mouthful of blood. 

of course you only remember all of that right now as you bleed out. 

your eyes feel heavy.

what had the attack been, again? a yoju? a honju? you could’ve taken it down on your own, right? did it matter? your gun didn’t do anything—it couldn’t, laying uselessly on the ground next to you as you felt another choking mouthful of blood cloying against your lips. 

you want to scream. 

what was the point, you wanted to ask. what was the point of transferring if your brother wouldn’t acknowledge you—even though all you wanted to do was speak to him again? 

“don’t close your eyes.”

thank god you still have enough energy for your eyes to fly open, staring up at soshiro, who leaned down to haul you to your feet—but really he was putting most of your weight on him, your feet barely scraping the floor. 

“soshiro,” you rasp. “why?” 

“that’s what i should be asking you,” soshiro’s voice was still cold. distant, as he began walking you back towards the other troops—carefully, so as to not upset your wounds. “why did you transfer out of the first division? from what i heard, you were making quite the name for yourself out there. needed to steal my spotlight that badly?” 

“that’s not it,” you snap, wincing in pain. “i just wanted my brother back. is that so much to ask for? i figure it is, because you just randomly stopped talking to me for no goddamn reason!” 

you feel soshiro freeze up. 

“you wouldn’t get it.”

he sounds resentful. 

“fuck no i wouldn’t!” you say. “i don’t know what’s going on because you won’t tell me! but the only thing i do know is that i want to be able to talk to at least one of my big brothers that doesn’t treat me like shit! because as it stands right now, both of you do!” 

you gasp out in pain, coughing up another mouthful of blood. 

soshiro’s body is still tense, his hand tightening where it’s wrapped around your arm. 

“i’m—” soshiro mutters. “sorry. i—i just.” he laughs. “i’m a sorry excuse for an older brother, huh?” 

“you are,” you retort, and soshiro laughs again, and he sounds almost like he did when the two of you were younger. 

“let’s go home,” soshiro says after a moment, his voice less resentful now. 

you feel almost like a kid again in that moment, leaning on soshiro after you’d fallen during tag, having scraped your knee. 

“okay,” you wheeze out. “okay.” 

[buzzcutlip]

hiiii! can I get a request for lip with a shy!reader where they like know each other from school but it’s like later seasons lip like working at the shop or the construction job and she starts to develop a crush on him but he doesn’t think he’s good enough for her so he distances himself and dates other girls and she has to watch from the sidelines until a guy asks her out so she goes for it and lip gets jealous and realizes his feelings. i’m in an angsty pining jealousy mood but with a happy ending still if that makes sense! but honestly feel free to run with it if it’s something you’re interested in writing bc I love your writing! 💗💗

Hi anon! I love this prompt, thank you very much for sending it my way! <3

This is a very first time I'm writing something with our dear boy Lip Gallagher, and I hope I'm not messing it all up.

Lip Gallagher/Fem!Reader Mature 1561 words

You admired Lip Gallagher. He was smart, intelligent, witty, and—alive. Despite the , he made it to college. You didn’t know the details but heard people talking about those nasty Gallaghers. You saw him take his little brother, Liam, to classes, to your study group. The little boy living temporarily in a dormitory made you sick with worry, but it was obvious that Lip took great care of him. You mostly felt for Lip—that he, as young as he was, had to take on his parents' responsibilities. And still, he did so great at school and had two jobs on top of it. He went home for weekends to help around the house. But that life sucked him back in, never giving him a solid chance, as much as Lip fought for it. He left the school, left the crime scene behind, and left an empty space in your chest. You never told him how you felt. Never wanted to, anyway.

Occasionally, you still meet each other at parties he gets invited to—or invites himself to—and you chat easily, sharing a drink or two. You’re happy to see him, to hear about his crazy jobs. Sometimes he brings a girl along and you smile politely at her, shake her hand. The whole school knew about Amanda and Mrs. Robinson. Besides wanting to protect yourself, you don’t believe Lip could ever want more than friendship from you, which makes interacting with him easier. ‘Cause you’re not trying for anything with him. He’s just a good bad boy. Who cares if you’ve had a crush on him since day one?

So what you expect from Lip when you introduce him to your date, Jacob, at one of these lame parties is that he shakes his hand and says hi politely. Which doesn’t happen; he just grumbles something and leaves for the kitchen. You roll your eyes and tell Jacob not to mind. Inside, you’re a bit embarrassed and disappointed. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe because Jacob’s a bit boring and you still keep seeing him. Letting him kiss you and put his fingers in your pussy and never do anything back. Because he doesn’t attract you. “But he’s nice,” your friends say. You say, for Christ’s sake! He is nice but oh so boring. You don’t feel anything, but you don’t want to be alone anymore. And most importantly, you don’t want to think about Lip when you masturbate, when Jacob fingers you, when boys half-heartedly fucked you in the past.

But as much as you want to forget Lip, you see him again. It’s a bar this time. Filled to the brim with a Friday crowd.

“Hey,” someone says behind you, laying a hand on your shoulder, and you know it’s him before you turn around. You smile at him, sucking on a colorful paper straw.

“You still drink that? Rum and Coke?”

“Yeah,” you laugh shortly, looking at the dark brown drink in your hands. “Spiced rum!” you clarify.

Lip leans closer to you, the sudden proximity doing things to you, as always, and you have to bite your bottom lip.

“Is your boyfriend here?” he asks casually, but you noticed him scanning the crowd just a few seconds ago.

“Yeah… Jacob’s here—but he’s not my boyfriend. We’ve been just—seeing each other for a bit.” You don’t want to talk about Jacob with Lip and it’s clear in the way you talk. You’re more focused on your elbows touching on the bartop.

Lip just laughs shortly, doesn’t say anything. It irks you. You frown. “What?”

“Nothing,” Lip shrugs, drumming his fingers on the wooden desk stained with beer and sweet, sticky liquor. He’s lost some of the baby fat in his face. You notice the sharpness of his cheekbones. He tilts his face downward as he blinks at you.

“You never had a boyfriend at school.” He probably wants to say "When I was at school" but that doesn’t interest you that much now.

“So what?” You grow even more irritated by his questions. Why does he care? You never discussed boyfriends, or his girlfriends, for that matter.

You turn your head away, grimacing, but Lip, on the other side, seems entertained. Intrigued.

“Nothing,” he says, smirking stupidly, and doesn’t stop looking at you. “You’re pretty when you pout.”

Your whole face flushes in an instant. Lip never talked like this to you. Never flirted. Of course, at the beginning, you had been disappointed, but you quickly decided that mutual respect for friendship is much better. Safer.

Unsure of what you’re going to say, you tilt your face back to him, but when you look at Lip, he’s not smirking anymore. He reaches for you, hand catching your burning face, his thumb sweeping over your cheek.

It takes you a moment to bat his hand away. “What’re you doing?” you ask, horrified. And shocked. Flustered with your shyness.

Lip shakes his head. “I don’t know,” he mumbles while you’re looking around, all wild, to check for Jacob.

This time it’s Lip who frowns. “You said he was not your boyfriend.”

“Are you, like, jealous or something?” you say only to say SOMETHING, head shaking in disbelief. The silence that follows almost shocks you. You never thought about what you would do if Lip felt the same about you. Never dared to think about that scenario.

Scared to find out what you’ll find out, you peer at him. His face is serious, jaw tense.

“Oh my god, you—you’re jealous,” you whisper, hand going to your mouth to cover it. Your expression must be hilarious—eyes wide, mouth open in disbelief. Lip starts fidgeting with the paper coaster on the bar, eyes flicking all over the room.

Angry tears begin to cloud your vision. “You have no right to be jealous now,” you seethe. “Have you only noticed me now? When I’m seeing someone?” The hurt is unmistakable in your voice. You ball your hands into fists, blinking against the tears welling in your eyes. When Lip doesn’t say anything, you turn on your heel. If you don’t get some fresh air now, you’re going to suffocate.

Once outside, you find a quieter spot away from the smoking people, propping against a wooden table. When you look up you wish you could see stars in the night sky. But the light pollution’s making it impossible. Sighing, you wrap your arms around yourself to protect yourself from the chill. You’re glad that Jacob knows people here too, otherwise you would probably feel bad for leaving him.

Before you get a chance to really sort your feelings, you see Lip approaching you in your peripheral vision.

You sigh, defeated, making a point of not looking at him as he stops a mere foot from you. You’re terrible at confrontations.

“You mad?” Lip asks, and you can feel him studying your face. There’s a cigarette burning between his fingers.

You shake your head. No.

Next, Lip shrugs off his hoodie, cigarette held between his pouting lips, and drapes the garment, warmed by his own body heat, over your shoulders. “Here.”

Suddenly, you’re enveloped in Lip Gallagher. In the smell of tobacco, laundry detergent, and boy. You close your eyes tight against the feeling that’s surfacing from within you. It’s spreading like wildfire, and when Lip steps in front of you, reaching to move the zipper up, up, up, the heat reaches your face, pinks up your cheeks.

Lip leans into you, putting both your bodies into contact, thighs to chests. He slides one of his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, right where your hand’s hiding too, and twines your fingers together. Then he rubs his cheek against your own, as you meet in the middle, and your heart stops. You didn’t know Lip would be like this. That brash, cocky Lip Gallagher with a womanizer reputation treating you with such tenderness.

But you don’t want to end up as a notch on his bedpost.

“I don’t think I’m your type,” you say simply, looking at the ground, hoping that’s enough for him to let it go. To let you go. Even though deep down, it’s the last thing you wish for. You don’t want Lip to let you go. You want him to do the exact opposite.

Lip scoffs, closer to your ear than you expected, making you jump. “And what’s my type?”

“I mean—” you swallow hard, finding the courage to say the next words, as nonchalantly as possible, “I’m from a functional family. I don’t use drugs, I don’t deal drugs. I’m pretty sure I don’t have any personality disorders,” you list.

“Wow, so you’ve done research on me, huh?” Lip asks drily but he doesn’t move, stays close to you.

You decide to come out with the truth. “You know, I had a crush on you at school, and I think I was not as subtle as I thought I was. I mean, most of my friends knew about it.”

Licking his lips, he says,“I always thought you were cute. I was just—”

You're not letting him off that easy. “Busy fucking through the entire school?”

“I didn’t think it was a good idea to make a move.”

“Why do you think it’s a good idea now?”

“Because I can’t stay away from you anymore.”

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Hi, I love your writing sm! I was wondering if you could do prompt 20 with lesso. Kinda thinking that lesso has a big crush on reader but doesn’t know how to show it. So she acts like a jerk bc she’s so bad at flirting. I just thought the prompt is totally fitting for her!

You Misunderstand Me, Baby ~Lady Lesso xFem Teacher!Reader

Heyyy anon!! Thank you for the request, dear. I greatly appreciate them 🥰 So, here a little Lady Lesso fic to your ask. Hope you Enjoy! 💋🖤

Mommy… Master List

Request & Prompt-List

#20. “Then why are you such a constant asshole?!”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, semi-public sex, fingering, clit stimulation, implied oral, light teasing, fighting, light angry sex, etc.

Enjoy (;

“What’s your problem with me?”

“I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Yes you do.” You insisted.

“No I do not.”

Lesso practically snarled back, stalking towards you and pushing you up against the closed door of your classroom.

“Then why are you such a constant asshole?!” You exclaimed.

Lesso’s eyes widened but she gave no verbal response. Before you could say another word, the red head’s lips were on yours.

You gasped into the kiss, frozen. Lesso grabbed your waist and swiveled you back to your desk. She effectively trapped you in between her and your desk, while your kiss got more and more heated. Her lips warmed you back up, and you happily leaned in further to deepen the kiss.

Once out of breath, you pulled away from the woman.

“What the actual fuck Lesso??” You gasped and chuckled, placing a hand in front of your mouth in shock.

“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear…” the redhead purred wickedly.

Lesso picked you up and placed you on the edge of your desk with ease. You yelped as her cold fingers ran underneath your trousers and found your underwear line. With a quick snap, your panties broke. And the next thing you felt was the woman’s cold fingertips glazing over your wet folds. Your hips bucked forward into Lesso’s hand desperately.

“Oh fuck—!” You whimpered, “m-more please…!” You immediately pled with the woman.

“Want me to take you right here…?”

“Yes god yes please—”

Lesso smirked coyly at your words of consent and slid two of her fingers knuckle deep into your cunt with ease.

“Oooooooh fuck—!”

You lunged forward and grabbed into the woman’s shoulders with your hands for stability.

“F-ffaster Lesso please…!!”

Lesso happily obliged, fucking you at a newfound and brutal pace. Your hips buckle violently into the red head’s hand. Your mind started to get all fuzzy and cloud over.

“K-keep—oh god—going!” You exclaimed, your mouth hanging open with pleasure.

The whole desk was shaking at the quick paced fucking this woman was giving you. Lesso watched you intently, taking in every little reaction that she pulled from you.

“Put pressure on…shit—on my c-clit…!!” You gasped in desperation, continuing to sloppily rock your hips against Lesso’s hand.

Lesso hummed and placed her ring finger firmly against your clit. You let out an unabashed moan at this action, your hips jolting violently forward.

She continued her direct pursuit of your high, and the red head had you crashing over your climax in record time. You gasped for breath as your walls clenched around her fingers.

Lesso helped you down from your high, afterwards then slowly pulling out of you. She brought her coated fingers up to her lips, licking them clean right in front of you. You gulped. That brought a whole new wave of arousal in between your legs, even while you were still desperately recovering from your last high.

“That clear enough for you…?” She chuckled, still twirling her tongue teasingly around her fingers.

“I—yes!” You breathlessly exclaimed.

Your eyes followed the woman’s tongue in eagerness and need.

“But… maybe you can better explain it still…?”

Lesso smirked at your needy tone. She dropped to her knees and split your legs open with ease.

“With pleasure.” She purred wickedly.

~~~

Lady Lesso Masterlist

[perpetuallyconfused10]

Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭

Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!

Feel free to change anything!!

Gone Viral, Gone Wrong

Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K

GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner

There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 

This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.

It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 

You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys���” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 

Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 

A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”

You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.

There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 

Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 

“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.

You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 

You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 

—

After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 

Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 

Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.

Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”

The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 

Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 

Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”

Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 

“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”

Everything is decidedly not fine. 

—

By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”

The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 

“I’m sorry?”

The grin fades from her face. 

You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”

JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”

When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”

She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 

What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.

“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”

The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 

You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 

“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.

—

“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 

“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 

The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.

For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.

But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”

“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”

“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”

Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 

Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”

—

Oh. 

Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 

Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”

Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”

“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 

You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”

You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”

“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”

Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”

It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.

Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”

“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”

“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.

Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 

Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”

This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 

“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”

Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”

He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.

There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 

—

Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 

Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.

“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 

You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 

The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”

Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 

“I just came to drop these off.” 

As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.

“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.

You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“You know about that?”

You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.

“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”

The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”

“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”

He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 

“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”

Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”

You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”

“…Nice.”

Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 

“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”

Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”

Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.

“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”

Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”

Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh.” 

His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”

You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”

“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”

Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”

You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????

[528-hotline]

ignoring safe words with matthew 🤭🤭 just asadcssf

also can i be 🍓 anon of its free?

ignoring safe words. with matthew !

warnings | dubcon, rough sex, watersports, squirting, piss, dumbification, dacryphilia, overstimulation, choking, creampie, ignoring safe words … literal filth :3

word count | 700+

a/n 💌 oh my… well you came to the right person 🫨 yes you can be 🍓anon !! i hope this isn’t too much for you cuz i’m definitely not a sane seokryu… hehe the writing in here is not due to self indulgence, really…. (lies!!) after he kept on posting hot shit even if i was gone here, i think this drabble made it clear that i’m NAWT okay. 😁 my thoughts will stop here i’m sorry hehe (^^) i hope you enjoy 🫶🏼

DARK CONTENT ahead ! read with caution (18+ only)

“look at you, my dumb pretty baby… all pathetic and stupid over my cock…”

you were all sprawled on matthew’s bed, legs hanging on his shoulders, thighs quivering from sensitivity and overstimulation. it’s already the fourth round and matthew doesn’t have intentions to stop at any second. the longer he rams into your pussy, the pleasure slowly turned into pain overtime.

“m-matt, red! red! please!” you close your thighs from the overwhelming and mixed sensations you have been feeling throughout as you try to push away his pelvis away.

“nonono baby… open your goddamn thighs…your stupid pussy wanted this, right?” he coos at you as his strong arms pries away your thighs, spreading you apart, having a complete view of your cum-drenched pussy from earlier. the sight added more fuel to the flame as he carries your thighs, bringing it to his arms, his thrusts going deeper and faster. “your pussy feels so good, can’t get enough…”

“red, matthew! please, red! ‘m gonna pee, please l-let me!” you yelped, looking away from matthew as you cried in tears, fighting the pain away as he continuously pounds your poor, overstimulated pussy.

he lets go of your thighs just to grab your jaw with one of his hands, looking at your puffy eyes, eyes all reddened from crying. as his other hand lands on your clit, pinching and rubbing the slippery, reddened bud between the pad of his calloused fingers.

you squealed at the action, pain and pleasure hiking up at the same time, making you cry out loud as tears fall down your flushed cheeks. matthew licks one of your tears away with his tongue, he then chuckled evilishly from your response. you were scared and aroused at the same time. “look at me… i’m gonna fuck this pussy till you’re too dumb to even walk, you’ll like that, right? yes, of course you fucking do…” his hand travels down to your shoulder, pushing you back into the sheets agressively and proceeds on choking your neck.

“nonono, red! please– matt, it hurts! p-please! wanna– shit!” your voice almost strained as you tried to speak before you were all out of breath. speechless, you were only able to let out soft cries, thighs shaking uncontrollably from holding your bladder and the pleasure from matthew repeatedly hammering your pussy with his cock and playing with your clit. his actions made you weaker than ever, succumbing under his control, realizing that resisting was no use because he’s too strong. comparing matthew to you, you were already used up like a ragged doll.

“your dumb pussy wants a release, hm? gonna give you what you want, yeah? you fucking cockslut…” he coos at you, shaking your head in response even if you knew it was no use on stopping him. matthew lets go of your neck and your clit, pulling your thighs even closer his cock, sinking even deeper. he knew he reached your sweet spot when you gasped and by arching your back. he smirked to himself, as he decides to thrust in to that certain spot continuously, thrusting into you in an animalistic pace. a high pitched moan came out of your mouth as you grab on to the sheets, your knuckles turning into white. your bladder was already holding on to a thread and a knot in your stomach snapped when matthew did one last sharp thrust out of you.

“fuck, fuck, fuck—! agh!” you gasped out, your back arched, your eyes rolling back, reaching your high once again. jets of piss landed all over his abs and torso as your hips quiver from releasing both your cum and piss all over him. you felt numb all over and your brain all scrambled up from the feeling of pain and pleasure altogether. matthew throws his head back, groaning, feeling his warm cum shooting inside your walls. he finally pulls out his cock, his cum flowing out of your pussy, as both of your liquids mixed, seeping into the drenched sheets.

“that’s it… piss all over me baby…” your warm piss still flowing out uncontrollably while he slaps and run his cock all over your poor pussy until you’re all emptied out.

“ngh… no more, please…!” you hiccuped, all empty and passed out. matthew hovers your spasming body, trying to recover from the overstimulation that he has caused, giving your neck with peppery kisses.

“i hear you baby, but expect to be wrecked like this all over again.”

[railingsofsorrow]

Oh my god!! I need a second part of purple scarf asap. Honestly the best fic I’ve ever read YOU DID SO GOOD.

Maybe with a little smut? I loved it wow

Green-eyed monster

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: heey, anon! I don't write smut sorry :( but there are some hints towards it? perhaps. I hope you like it and thank you for the kind words!

summary: a consultant on a case drives you mad. the team seems to know the reason why, all except for the man with an IQ of 187. or. . . in which this is the sequel for this. it can be read as a standalone though.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.1K

warnings/content: jealousy jealousy jealousy (if the title wasn't clear enough); some light female rivalry; discussions about possessiveness; teasing; making out; allusions to sexual content (nothing explicit) and a tiny hint towards bdsm? but you blink you miss it; also, rossi's got some jokes.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You don't lose patience quickly. You consider yourself to be a very patient person who is always questioning whether or not the situation was worthy over being stressed. It usually wasn't, so you'd take a deep breath and either fix the problem so it went away on its own or you faced it right away.

This time, you decided on the former. Because when someone keeps flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you — in a work environment nonetheless — while disrupting his personal space — really, what it is with people and not being aware of that minimum 0,5 inches gap? You do not need to be up on someone's face to have a simple conversation!

“Here.” A glass of water appears in your line of sight and you avert your attention from across the room to stare at it in confusion. Rossi is waiting expectantly beside you. “For you. You seem to need it since you keep on scoffing. Sore throat?”

That sassy Italian irony, huh?

You give him an eye roll as a response and he chuckled when you actually take the glass from his hold.

When Hotch called all of you over a case in your day-off, you didn't expect to grit your teeth as much as you were right now. You left your bed along with Spencer's warm body to go to the Bureau and have shameless flirting displayed in a public space. For godness sake.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

You really don't lose your cool over nothing.

But this isn't nothing.

Also, you do not consider yourself a jealous person, you see? But Agent Mayfield was pushing her luck.

“Yes, Agent Mayfield?” You replied in the same overly sweet tone she gave you. You're a profiler and you're damn good at your job, but it didn't need much to notice her aversion towards some people on the team, if not everyone. And you weren't the only who felt the same, given the not-so-subtly eyeroll from JJ.

The dirty blonde woman smiled at you. You didn't smile back. “You seem to have forgotten the files from—”

“It's on your desk.” You said shortly, turning back to the medical files you had to get through to find a pattern in the UnSub's M.O.

“I didn't see it.”

You hummed.

Well, of course not. If you hadn't been all over Doctor Reid than maybe you would have seen it.

“I just put it there, you can see it now.”

There was a pause, and then, “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.”

There was a clear of throat and a soft chuckle around the briefing room but you didn't gave much thought to it. Until Derek made a comment.

“Slow down, Tiger.” He said, patting your shoulder before leaving the room with a laugh upon feeling your glare in his direction.

“Why do you need slowing down?”

You let out a long sigh. It wasn't Spencer's fault. That was completely out of the question, you knew he wasn't responding back to Agent Mayfield's flirting — he probably wasn't even aware of it, if you were honest — but the woman unnerved you 100%.

He placed your mug in front of you, the smell of coffee immediately reaching your nostrils and calming your senses. Maybe that's what your body were lacking and that's what it required to tune down your annoyance. Spencer was smiling at you and your forehead smoothed out. He's such an angel.

“Don't know,” You shrug, lifting the mug to your lips. Yes, not too sweet or watered-down. You give him a half smile in appreciation. “Derek is mad.”

“Doctor Reid, I need your input on something, do you mind?”

You refuse the scoff, looking at your side when you see Emily studying you. But someone else was inspecting your every move as well, you notice it when Spencer turns back to you after nodding in affirmation to Agent Mayfield.

“Is everything alright?” He questioned, warm fingers grazing your forearm warily. Of course Spencer knew something was off, he didn't have a major in psychology just because. He recognized your actions in a way you couldn't do it if you paid enough attention to yourself. Once, he made a comment about the supposedly meaning of when you licked your lips in different situations and you just stood there and listened, in complete bewilderment. He noticed a lot, to say the least. Not what's right under his nose, though.

“I'm good.” You shrug, grabbing one of the pictures in your messy circle of clues. You'd have to ask for Penelope's magic on this one. “You better go, duty awaits.” Your tone was extra chirpy and he just knew that was sarcasm. You know, Spencer Reid might be terrible with social cues, but he was familiar with everything that was related to you. And that edge in your voice made him slightly concerned.

Had he done something? He travels back to every single interaction from the two of you since you left his apartment — your apartment, too. You hadn't moved in (yet) but you did spend most of your time there. That place was just as yours as it was his, now. He loves saying that — but nothing out of ordinary comes to mind. You had breakfast, crawled back in the covers because it was supposed to be your day-off and intertwined your limbs for about one hour straight before Hotch made the call. You didn't look mad at him. You didn't sound mad at him when you left together, or on your way to work. Why did you sounded and looked mad now?

Fiddling distractedly with his scarf, he followed Agent Mayfield into her temporary office. She was a consultant in the newest case you were working on, Hotch brought her in because she had history with this kind of UnSub. Apparently, she went through a similar case back then.

Spencer got confused every time she asked him a question. Not that he minded, he loved to talk and loved when people seemed interested in what he had to say. But Mayfield was an expert in the area, she knew all of the questions she was asking him and he was aware that she knew because of her reaction. She was a nice person. Smiled a lot, too.

“What do you think, Doctor Reid? Am I in the right mindset?” He blinked away from the board where she had shown him a possible location the UnSub was hiding. The red dot stared at him as a sweet perfume unnerved his senses. Oh, she had gotten closer. Too close.

“Uh, yes. I believe so.” He frowned, taking a step back. She also didn't seem to get the meaning of boundaries because she stepped forward again. The smile quirking up a smirk. “Maybe—uh, maybe we should inform Hotch. Have you—”

“Doc,” She laughed, staring him up and down. “Are you afraid of me? Why do you keep waking back? I won't bite.”

“Okay,” Spencer deadpanned, swallowing hard. What was happening? He felt the table against his fingers and stopped moving back but Agent Mayfield kept on marching forward. “You—”

Tilting her head to the side, she raised a hand to touch the fabric around his neck, eyes traveling over it with curiosity and something else he couldn't translate when her blue orbs locked with his amber ones.

“Nice scarf you got there.” She purred, he could see her eyeshadow clearly form how close she was. It was starting to make him feel uncomfortable, the feeling of fight or flight arriving little by little as his hands gripped the table behind his back.

Spencer nodded nervously, “Thank you, my girlfriend gave it to me.” The air shifted as soon as he let the words out. Her movements freezing before they reached his neck. Thank god.

“Oh,” she muttered, sounding surprised and slightly disappointed “Your girlfriend?”

Spencer pulled the fabric away from her hold, taking advantage of her thoughtful stance to hop to the side and release himself from the cage she had locked him in. “Yes,” he said, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “She likes knitting.” Spencer didn't know why he said that, he didn't know a lot of things right now just that urge to flight the scene as if he was in imminent danger. “You got it all right. We should inform Hotch, this will help.” A tight-lipped smile was the last thing he sent her way before he fled the room.

When Hotch explains they're going to follow a new lead provided by Agent Mayfield, you are one of the first to reach for your bulletproof vest, until a hand curls around your shoulder.

“You're staying.” Hotch says, earning a look of disbelief from you. “You haven't been cleared for the field.” He gives you an unimpressed look which you know it means a warning if anything else.

“Hotch, it's been a month!”

“And you haven't been cleared, I need you and Garcia to work together.”

That's how everybody — but you — leaves for the newest location. The lead ends up being right and they find the man, you're in Penelope's office when they arrive back at the Bureau. It's around 10 p.m and you can't hold yourself back from yawning as you follow Penelope to meet your friends in the bullpen.

Emily's eyes glisten with something as she sees you come around the corner. She walks over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder as you gaze at her from the corner of your eye suspiciously. “You won't believe who made the arrest.” She whispers in your ear.

You let out a scoff, “I think I have a hunch.” You mumble, eyes scanning around the room unconsciously until you find what your heart always searched for on a daily basis. Your gazes find each other and you offer him a smile.

“I was waiting for you to punch her guts, to be honest. You disappointed me.”

“I'm being professional, Emily. Not that you can relate.”

Emily flicks your forehead, and you whine playfully. “Menace. Now go talk to your lover so he can stop with that puppy dog look. It's depressing.” Your mouth stretches into a grin and you offer her your tongue in a very mature say before leaving her side to cross the room.

“Hey,” you greet Spencer with a warm smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Are you mad at me?” He blurts out at the same time you spoke. Confusion drew your brows together.

“Why would I be mad at you, Spencer?”

“You were gritting your teeth and your shoulders were tense which means you seemed to be holding back to snap and upset about something.” He rambled out, clutching the strap of his go-back that he hasn't even put it down yet. “Your eyebrows, they do this thing where you lift one and scoff right after.” Oh, so he noticed that to? You weren't even aware of the eyebrow twitch yourself. You weren't even going to complain about his profiling, you were more concerned about the fact that you made him feel as if he had done something wrong. Which wasn't the case. “Did I do something?” His voice lowers when someone passes by you. You decide you were to public for you to discuss the topic so you pull his wrist towards the conference room.

You shut the door quietly and turn around to face your boyfriend that carries a slightly heartbreaking expression.

“Spencer.” you called out softly, leaning your hand towards his and intertwining your fingers as you pull him closer. He lets out a sighs in relief with the way you were reacting. She's not mad anymore, good. “I'm not mad.” The promise goes out in a whisper as your hands left his to wrap around his neck. The scarf is there, it's always there. Your fingers curl around it slowly and he's too busy burying his nose on the croak of your neck to pay attention to anything else.

He makes a sound of protest when you lean away but you proceed to shut him up by crashing your lips together. The immediate reaction is to enfold your waist with his hands, you can feel his warmth when your shirt raises exposing a bit of your skin.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you wrap a hand around his neck to create a little space between you two. It's not harsh, you're barely applying pressure on the area, but it's the reason his pupils are dilated when he glances down at you.

“I'm not mad because I know that you know who you come home to every day.” The contrast between your honeyed tone and your stern gaze is palpable, Spencer walked that path before and he knows what it means. “Don't you, love?” He's not sure which of his responses is appropriate for a work environment so he simply swallowed hard and nodded.

You hum, smile turning into a soft grin. Your whole stance shifting when you peck his lips again, adjusting his sweater vest as if absolutely nothing had happened.

Like an investigation board, every clue seems to click in his mind. The code arrives to his brain and the information was so clear that it must have looked like he ignored the signs because it was convenient.

You're jealous.

And Spencer must say, it looks quite good on you.

Before you leave the conference room you had come to hide in for a few minutes, he stops you from sliding out the room by hooking two of his fingers to the waistband of your pants and bringing you back to him. He unwraps the scarf around his neck to involve it around yours. It's not an unfamiliar action, he's done it a few times through the course of your relationship. It's something that he enjoys doing, truth be told. Except that, in a room filled with profilers, it conveys a whole other meaning. Although he just needs it to be conveyed to one person.

There's a six feet distance within you when you step back into the bullpen. Most of the people have dissipated, only your inner circle left, except from Rossi, he went home already.

Oh, and Agent Mayfield was saying goodbye to everyone as well. You had to hold back the eyeroll as she approached you. You could see JJ from above Mayfield's shoulder, cracking up beside Penelope, who was asking her to be quiet. The entire FBI building seemed to quiet down for a minute.

“Agent Y/L/N,” she gave you that fake sweet smile, showing off her teeth as she offered a hand for you to shake. You really thought about ignoring it or in throwing out the number of pathogens passed during a handshake to avoid doing it — like your precious boyfriend usually did. “A pleasure working with you. I hope the opportunity comes another time.”

You shake her hand, despite your inner protests. However, every action has its consequences, right? That's why something akin to pride bursts through your chest when her attention freezes on your neck. It's good, it's really good to see Agent Mayfield clears her throat and walk out of the room as if the best team of profilers weren't scrutinizing her every move.

“Oh, my god.” Emily mumbles, rolling her shoulders back with a groan. The atmosphere had switched from tense to a much more relaxed environment. “That was brutal.”

“I know what was brutal.” Derek kicked Spencer's chin, to which the younger replied with a frown. “The rejection you gave her. And that,” he points at you, shaking his head playfully as he throws the strap of his bad around his shoulder. “That's just possessiveness, princess.”

“Yeah, I don't know which one of you is worse, to be honest.” JJ raises her hands and turns back to grab her stuff.

Shrugging with an innocent expression, you say, “I've no idea what you're on about.” Penelope makes a joke and Hotch bids everyone goodbye because he'll try to see Jack before he falls asleep.

The parking lot is dark and the wind travels fast to bring you a cold breeze. When you reach your car, you notice the key is on your bag, that Spencer was currently carrying. Before you ask, a kiss is pressed against your temple and you're being pushed to the opposite side.

“I'm driving.” He clarifies when you look back at him with a puzzled gaze.

“You hate driving.” You say, putting your seatbelt on. “... particularly at night.”

“I don't hate it. It's just not my favourite thing to do, besides...” He gives you a pointed look after turning on the engine. “You're tired.”

“I'm not,” you replied stubbornly, but complains nothing else. You are tired. Despite not going to the field like everyone else, being on the office was just as much work.

Silence fills the car in its comfortable form. You're lulled to sleep with Spencer's harsh breaks and his soft humming to a pop song on the radio. He gently wakes you up when you've arrived in his place.

As you're fluttering your eyes open, you know the peace is about to be disturbed by the smug look in his pretty face. “Possessiveness, uh?” He murmurs, laugh echoing when you slap his arm as your face heats up. You have no idea what took over you a few moments ago. Well, you do know. But you weren't about to give in to him that easily. “You know you're the only one, right? I don't have eyes for anyone else.”

The truth slipping out of his tongue is completely unnecessary, but welcomed. Reassurance is important, even if you trusted Spencer in the tip of a cliff with eyes closed.

“I know.” You say, smiling when he leans into your palm. Drawing invisible patterns in his cheek, you pull him closer to close your gap. This time, the kiss doesn't carry anything other than tenderness.

Now it's his turn to grips the scarf, he holds both ends, tugging you impossibly closer. “And you,” he stares down at your lips, teasingly. “... you are who I'll always want to come home to. No doubt in that. Understood?”

You let out a hum in contentment while kissing him as an answer. One hundred percent understood.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

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[liliewrites]

Requesting a NSFW transfem! Arle with fem!reader who works at the hearth & arle simps for reader but like reader is oblivious to all that cus like she's surrounded by kids almost 24/7. Somehow reader convinced Arle to bring the kids to a beach (I am not even sure if there's a beach in Fontaine but let's assume so XD). So on beach day, bringing a whole bunch of kids means a bunch of guards gotta be there (cus safety). So Arle sees reader wearing a bikini with a sash(is that what it's called I have no idea) since it's like hot out and then arle gets a pretty bad boner & rails reader in her room privately after the day at the beach. Since arle got jealous of the stares reader gets from the guards. (Sorry if its very long & no pressure.)

lmaoooo bare with me anon, this is giving me brainrot... jealous arlecchino. also forgive me if the ending is a little silly and my writing isn't that great waksjdk i rlly didn't know how to end it and this was supposed to be just a thirst lmaoo. anyw i hope u like this!!:))

- warning/s : transfem! arlecchino, jealous sex, creampie.

(men and minors dni under the cut!)

filthy, disgusting, outrageous-

oh, but arlecchino was not better than her men. those men- ogling and staring at you. it irritated her to no end. to her defense, she was simply watching over you and the children, it's not like she was busy staring at your.. pretty tits, nor was she staring at your.. plump ass. arlecchino was a woman of duty and responsibility, she was just here to watch over the kids, yes. as the father and head of the house of hearth, it was her job to ensure the safety-

oh who was she kidding? "fuck.."

she cursed under her breath, no matter how hard she convinced herself, she could not suppress her rushing emotions- especially the blood rushing down her pants. she let out a frustrated groan. oh, oh, archons, the fatui guards who were ogling at you were making her blood rush in annoyance, and your pretty figure exposed in broad daylight made blood rush in her pants. she couldn't help it anymore, she couldn't just stand by and watch you get eye-fucked by the guards.

she got up with a scoff. her tall stature, straight and stiff shoulders coupled with an annoyed glare was what greeted the guards.

"you buffoons, stop slacking off and watch the kids." she scolded them, not needing to raise her voice. they were not kids, they didn't need to be told twice to do their jobs properly, and hopefully the guards had immediately understood that she caught them staring at who was supposed to be hers, and had made it clear to not make the mistake of doing so again- or they will be fucked up.

after doing that, however, arlecchino could not afford any more time pass by without her making it also clear to you what you were making her feel- it was annoying her, it was getting on her nerves- how you act so clueless about the feelings she’d been trying to convey across to you for the past few days. so the harbinger walked towards you, grabbing your wrist with no explanation whatsoever.

much to your fear (and.. delight?), she brought you to her private room that she had rented for herself during the house of hearth’s whole stay at the beach, shoving you in just enough to force you inside her room, but not too much to actually make you fall on the floor.

"f-father? what's wrong-"

"do not call me father, woman. i am done playing these stupid little games with you."

pray tell, you were confused about what she said and you really wanted to know what she was talking about, as you were currently cowering in fear under the knave's harsh glare. she refused that you call her father, and she spoke with a tone that dripped with irk making you unsure of how to properly react to her as you were scared that you’d anger her further. "m-my lord, i am confused. what is it that you mean?" you asked, and she grabbed your wrist once more, pushing you on the bed and pinning you down.

"my dear, do not act coy with me. i have done all that i can to convey my feelings towards you, and yet you let those filthy men drool and fantasize about what i wish to claim as mine?"

you let arlecchino's words register for a moment. acting coy? feelings? claim as hers?

the dumbfounded look on your face was enough to make arlecchino realize that you had indeed not been able to grasp her feelings, you were not acting coy, nor were you pretending to be clueless. you really, really, didn’t know.

— for her whole life as an underling of the fatui and as a harbinger, a master of wearing a mask of apathy, a trained actor in the field of faux cruelty, she has never been able to experience embarrassment to this degree, and besotted! she couldn’t believe it was because of silly, petty feelings of romance.

she immediately moved away, feeling guilty and ashamed of her own actions, but mostly annoyed at herself- and those damned fatui guards. they were the reason for her acting this way, they were the reason, they-

you, however, noticed the little.. bump in her pants while sat there in silence, seemingly lost in thought (she was busy convincing herself it was the guards’ fault). you were as flustered as she was, of course, but seeing arlecchino, the feared knave, turned on and vulnerable because of you? it was plain to see that you had a little confidence boost and you ended up provoking the said harbinger, catching her off guard.

"my lord, is.. this because of me?" "what do you think, milaya?" "i don't know. i asked you because i do not know why you are so aroused and turned on, my lord. could it be because of someone else? oh, oh boo.”

now, now arlecchino was sure that this form of teasing from you was intentional. she looked at you with a rather dark stare, her earlier annoyed expression returning to her face, and she clicked her tongue.

”i was about to forgive you for being oblivious towards my displays of affection, but your behavior right now is inexcusable, my dear.”

she crawled back towards you, and you could feel a rush of adrenaline through your veins. you were no longer afraid, as you were sure that the knave held some sort of sentimental feelings towards you — you were unsure for now what it was, but to know that you were important to her, oh, it made you feel confident.

”milaya, accuse me one more time of loving another woman, consider this a warning, but i will definitely have to show you these feelings that pester me day and night because of you.”

”then show me, my lord, must i admit? i do not know the identity of the woman whom you clearly fantasize enough about to make you have such a.. hard-on”

oh, you’ve definitely pushed enough of arlecchino’s buttons today but now you really were riling her up on purpose? needless to say, no more words were exchanged between you, and the pretty little bikini that caused all this jealous fiasco of hers was ripped off of you (with the promise that arlecchino would buy you a new one, a better one.) and now you were face-front and pushed down against the bed.

oh, she definitely was not small. you could feel her fill you up and stretch you out. deep, harsh, thrusts were the only thing you felt. your senses were overstimulated with the sensations of her, everything was just her now. your mind was hazy, but all you could see was her white and black locks, framing her handsome face. all you could smell was her slightly woody smell, along with the musk coming from the love-making you both were currently doing. all you could hear was her grunts and your incoherent cries of her name. all you could taste were her lips pressed against yours, her tongue running against your lips as she separates. all you could feel were her hands gripping on your wrists, her hips slamming against yours and her dick reaching spots you never knew could even be reached, oh, oh and the overwhelming sensation of those little jolts of pleasure whenever she rammed against you. everything was just her, her and her—

”m-my lord, i-i can’t-”

”silence, you’ve irked me enough, take it.”

“milaya, my dear. oh how i’ve waited for this..” she grumbled in your ear, bringing you slightly back to your senses, before biting down on your skin that caused you to be fully awake and aware of everything again. the speed of her thrusts increasing but her rhythm had started to falter. it made you whine and whimper, you could barely understand what she was saying, the pleasure was messing with your train of thought.

”those dirty.. dirty bastards, staring at you- well too bad, because i am the one who’s fucking you right now. mine, mine. i could barely stand it.”

the jealousy on her face, the scowl and her gritted teeth as she continued fucking you to no end despite you already clawing at the sheets with how close you are. you could tell, her feelings were genuine, and if you weren’t fucking you’d be a flustered mess- not that you currently weren’t a mess. just a different kind. her lips wrapped itself around your pretty little nips, sucking on it and playing with it using her tongue in a rather aggressive manner. biting every now and then on your chest too, creating purple splotches on your skin that made her feel proud to see. however, with every single movement that she did to you, you inched closer to the edge.

as her lips latched onto that one particular spot on your neck, licking it, biting it— you swear you felt yourself black out for a moment, something snapping in your lower region and your whole body arched and convulsed. you’ve never felt an orgasm this intense. it felt so good. so fucking good, not just for you- but for arlecchino too.

”f-fuck, milaya, you take me so good- i-i- fuck-”

with a loud curse, her hips stilled and shook, slamming deep into you and you felt warmth flood your insides while you were still feeling the ebbs of your high. it made you have mini convulsions, as you were extremely sensitive from how rough she was pounding into you. panting, breathless, she didn’t pull out but she did collapse on top of you. her face shoved in your neck, and you knew she felt embarrassed as she refused to face you.

as you called her that title, she got on her elbows and hovered on top of you, looking at you with a stern stare. “milaya, you are free to call me by my name and not by any title anymore. please, call me by my name.” she requested, and it was.. so different from her commanding tone that you got used to. your heart melted at the noticeable vulnerability she was showing you, and it made you smile. “okay, arlecchino. i take it that we should go back to the beach and see the kids?” the sound of her name rolling of your tongue made her feel bliss, but the next few words that came from your mouth had reminded her of today's earlier events.

”.. my dear, i was not too rough with you, was i? i didn’t force myself on you, did i?”

”no, my lord.”

oh, right, the beach. arlecchino shook her head at the thought, knowing that the guards were there. she scoffed at the thought and returned to her previous position of burying her face in your neck.

“no. let’s stay here.”

”- but the kids- a-arlecchino!”

”i’m afraid that we’ll have to stay here for awhile, my dear. i have not shown enough of my love to you, and i wish to make it clear to whom you belong to.”

before you could even protest, she gently thrusted her hips once more to cut you off. “no, milaya, we stay here. who said i was done disciplining you?” she told you, voice low followed by a groan.

her pace was slow but deep, you could feel every inch of her rubbing against your sensitive walls. it made you tremble once more that you couldn’t find it in you to answer back anymore.

safe to say, you were unable to come out of the room for the rest of the day nor the following. you were worried about the kids and the kids were worried about you— but you were safe here in arlecchino’s room, and they were safe under the guards’ surveillance, otherwise they’d have to face execution if anything ever happened to them. surely, it wouldn’t be selfish of arlecchino have you all to herself without any distraction for a day, yes? it was a vacation after all!:3

a/n : owjhasjdh my bad, i forgot to include this, but milaya ("милая") is a russian endearment used for feminine lover hihi.