#as usual adding a tag to use just in case

[lightdancingwords]

Second Chances: Forever - Part Twenty of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in the grocery store brought a whirlwind of change to Beau Arlen’s life—change he had no issues with whatsoever. A second chance at life, love, family—a second chance at forever. Word Count: 6,153 Tags/Warnings: 18+ implied smut/smut, fluff, a touch of medical/pregnancy concern A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Twenty: Ringing The Alarm

The clinic room was peaceful in its own way—muted tones, soft lighting, the kind of quiet that usually comforted Y/N during her routine check-ups. She sat on the crinkling paper of the exam table, one hand resting absently over the swell of her belly, eyes tracing the mobile hanging from the ceiling above the monitor. A paper cutout of a bear floated in slow, lazy circles. Her baby moved faintly beneath her palm.

She smiled, small and calm.

Until the door opened, and Dr. Thomas entered with her usual warmth—but a touch more weight behind her eyes.

“Hi, Y/N,” she greeted, sitting on her stool and rolling a little closer. “Everything with baby looks great—heartbeat’s strong, measurements are right where they should be. But I want to go over your vitals before you leave.”

Y/N’s smile faltered just slightly. “Okay.”

The doctor folded her hands. “Your blood pressure has increased again—slowly, but steadily since your twelve-week appointment. And I want to talk to you about what that might mean moving forward.”

Y/N nodded, her fingers tightening slightly over her belly.

“We’re not in a danger zone yet,” Dr. Thomas reassured her. “But you’re eighteen weeks, and this kind of trend is something we don’t ignore—especially not in a pregnancy with multiple young children at home, and especially given how preeclampsia develops.”

Y/N’s heart gave a quiet flutter. “You think it might be… that?”

Dr. Thomas was honest but gentle. “It’s too early to say. But preeclampsia can begin showing signs with elevated blood pressure. And while it's most commonly diagnosed in the third trimester, we do sometimes see signs earlier. What’s important now is monitoring closely and adjusting anything we can—diet, rest, stress levels.”

Y/N exhaled slowly, nodding again.

“You’ve already got a lot on your plate—young children, a full house, a partner in law enforcement. You’re not doing anything wrong, Y/N,” she added quickly, seeing the guilt flicker in her patient’s eyes. “This isn’t something you cause. But it is something we need to take seriously. If it progresses, it can become dangerous for both you and the baby.”

“What happens if it does?” Y/N asked quietly.

“Depends on how early, how high, and how fast,” the doctor replied. “Sometimes we can manage it with more frequent monitoring and rest. In more serious cases, it can mean hospitalization. We’d talk about that if we had to. But we’re not there now.”

The room was quiet for a moment. The only sound was the faint rhythmic hum of the monitor still tracking her baby’s heartbeat.

Y/N nodded, the information settling like a quiet weight in her chest—not panic, but a deep awareness. “So we take it seriously. We pay attention.”

Dr. Thomas nodded. “Exactly. You don’t have to live in fear. But don’t brush off the signs either. If you get headaches that don’t go away, sudden swelling, or any changes in vision, you call immediately. And let your partner help. I know it’s hard to slow down, especially when you're used to taking care of everyone else. But now, it’s your turn to be looked after, too.”

Y/N offered a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes—but it was grateful. “Thank you.”

They scheduled an earlier follow-up, and when she walked out into the Montana daylight, the warmth on her face grounded her a little more.

In the car, she sat still for a beat, processing it all. Not spiraling—but aware. And then she called Beau.

“Hey,” he answered on the first ring. “Everything alright?”

“Mostly,” she said. “Baby’s perfect. But my blood pressure’s climbing again.”

There was silence on the other end. Then, his voice low and firm. “What’d they say?”

She relayed it all—Dr. Thomas’s calm but clear explanation, the mention of preeclampsia, the next steps.

Beau didn’t speak for a long moment. When he did, his voice cracked just enough to reveal how tightly he was holding himself together.

“I’m comin’ home,” he said. “I want to be there with you. We’ll make whatever changes we have to. Just… thank you for tellin’ me. For not carrying it alone.”

“I never do,” she said quietly.

And she didn’t.

Because Beau wasn’t just her husband. He was her partner in all of it—the joy, the mess, the fear, the hope. And now, more than ever, they’d lean on that bond.

Together.

Beau’s truck pulled into the driveway barely an hour after Y/N had returned home. She hadn’t expected him to drop everything, but when she heard the crunch of tires on gravel, saw the familiar silhouette through the window—broad shoulders, purposeful stride—her heart cracked open a little with relief.

She stood in the kitchen, a hand resting on the edge of the counter, the other gently curled over the curve of her belly. Caleb sat in his high chair gnawing on a teether, while Eliza knelt on the floor with crayons spread around her like a battlefield of color, narrating a story about a wolf prince and his magical blueberry crown.

Beau stepped through the front door, his eyes finding hers instantly.

He gave her a small, quiet smile—one of those rare ones that said everything he didn’t need to say aloud. She smiled back, her heart thudding soft with love.

“Hey, Daddy!” Eliza chirped without looking up. “You’re home early! Did the crime-fighting wolves send you back for backup?”

Beau crouched beside her and kissed the top of her head. “They sure did. Needed someone strong to help Mama today.”

“I am strong,” Eliza said seriously, flexing both arms. “But I’m also busy making wolf maps.”

“Then I’ll handle the backup part,” Beau said gently, rising and walking to Y/N.

They met at the kitchen island, his hands reaching for her waist, hers finding his shirt like second nature. He leaned in and kissed her cheek, slow and steady, then pulled back just enough to look at her—really look.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded. “I am now.”

They stood like that for a moment longer before the soft sound of Caleb babbling brought them back to the present. Beau glanced at the kids and lowered his voice.

“Wanna step outside? Just for a minute.”

She nodded again, and they both moved easily, fluidly—two people used to sharing space and weight and life.

Eliza looked up. “Where are you going?”

“Just outside for a minute, sweetheart,” Y/N said. “You keep working on that map. Daddy and I need to make a plan.”

“A plan for what?”

“For making sure things stay peaceful in the kitchen,” Beau said with a wink.

“Tell the wolves I said hi,” she called after them.

They stepped onto the porch, the door clicking softly behind them. The wind was cool and gentle, brushing across the yard in slow, sweeping breaths.

Beau turned to her, his hand resting over hers on the railing. “Tell me everything. I want to hear it from you.”

So she did—again. Slower this time, more measured. She told him about the rise in blood pressure, the doctor’s concern, the explanation of preeclampsia, the plan for closer monitoring. She repeated Dr. Thomas’s gentle warning about rest, about stress, about slowing down.

And Beau listened, every line in his face drawn tight with focus.

When she finished, he pulled her in again, his hand cradling the back of her head as he pressed a kiss there.

“I hate that I wasn’t there,” he murmured. “But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” she said, tucking her face into his chest. “I didn’t want to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” he said. “You just reminded me how much I love you. And how damn hard I’ll fight to keep you safe.”

They stood like that a moment longer—quiet, close, anchored.

Then Beau exhaled and gently pulled back. “Alright. We keep things calm. Keep meals easy. You stay off your feet when you can. I’ll handle more with the kids. We do this smart.”

Y/N looked up at him, warmth blooming in her chest. “We already do.”

Inside, Eliza’s voice echoed faintly—something about a crown that needed polishing.

They both smiled, then slipped back into the house, side by side, ready to keep walking forward.

Together.

That evening, after the children were in bed and the house had grown still, Beau stood alone in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a notepad in hand and the weight of the day quietly settled on his shoulders.

The porch light cast long shadows across the floor, and in the hush that followed bedtime lullabies and sleepy whispers, he let himself think—really think—about what Y/N needed, and how he could give it to her without her feeling like the world had shifted too much beneath her feet.

She wouldn’t ask him to change anything. He knew that. She’d downplay the pressure, the fatigue, the slow increase in blood pressure as just another hurdle. That was who she was—steady, resilient, fiercely protective of the normal, even when it cost her everything.

But Beau had seen the flicker of concern in her eyes, the way her hand hovered just a little longer over her belly when she didn’t think anyone was watching.

And that was enough.

He jotted a few notes on the pad—meals he could prep ahead, errands he could handle before coming home from work. He could swap a couple of his longer patrol days with Carter or Jenny, maybe shift his hours just a little. He didn’t need to explain everything—just say it was a family adjustment.

Because it was.

He’d make it work.

He had to.

He opened a cabinet and started pulling down ingredients—nothing elaborate. Just what he needed to prep tomorrow’s dinner in advance. Something warm and easy to reheat. Maybe some soup and roasted vegetables. Comfort food without the work.

He moved quietly, setting things aside, scribbling a grocery list as he went. They had a babysitter for the day after tomorrow—he’d use the time to stock up on meals he could freeze. That way Y/N wouldn’t have to cook unless she wanted to.

He’d even thought about bringing Margaret back for a few days—but not just yet. Not unless Y/N asked. He didn’t want to take away her independence. He just wanted to support it.

After he finished, he rinsed the cutting board and wiped down the counter, the sound of water soft and steady in the sink.

Then he padded down the hall to check on the kids—Caleb fast asleep with one arm flung out, Eliza curled around her favorite plush. He adjusted their blankets, kissed their foreheads, and returned to the bedroom where Y/N lay curled on her side, half-asleep, the softest smile on her lips as she stirred at the sound of his entrance.

“You okay?” she murmured, barely lifting her head.

“Yeah,” he said, stripping down to his T-shirt and boxers before sliding in beside her. “Just made a few notes. Gonna make the next few weeks easier on you.”

“You’re already doing so much,” she whispered, her eyes fluttering closed again.

Beau slid his arm around her waist, pulling her close until her back fit perfectly against his chest. “I love you,” he said into her hair. “And I’m gonna take care of you, whether you’re carrying a baby or just carrying the whole family like you always do.”

She gave a soft sound of gratitude, her hand finding his and lacing their fingers together.

And as the silence folded around them again, Beau let his plans settle deep into his bones—not grand gestures, not dramatic shifts.

Just love.

One steady, quiet adjustment at a time.

The next morning came gently.

No shrieks. No banging of sippy cups or declarations of wolf patrols. Just light filtering through the curtains, soft and golden, the kind that always made the world feel slower, easier.

Beau stirred first.

His arm was already around Y/N, tucked beneath the swell of her belly where it rested naturally in the crook of her side. Her back was warm against his chest, her breaths deep and even, her hair spilling over the pillow in a dark wave. He didn’t move, not yet. He just stayed there, listening to the rhythm of her breathing and the faint, muffled cooing of doves outside the window.

This—this—was what he fought for. The stillness before the noise. The peace that came from knowing she was beside him, safe, warm, alive with the kind of love he still couldn’t fully wrap his hands around.

Y/N shifted slightly, her hand moving to rest over his. “You’re awake.”

“Didn’t want to be,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the curve of her shoulder. “But I couldn’t stop watching you sleep.”

She turned a little, just enough to see his face in the soft light. “That’s a little creepy, Sheriff.”

He chuckled, eyes crinkling with affection. “The sweetest kind.”

Her smile was slow, tired but real. “Sleep okay?”

“With you? Always.” He moved closer, his hand spreading gently over her bump. “How’re you feelin’ this morning?”

She paused a moment, thoughtful. “Tired. But okay.”

Beau watched her closely. “Really okay?”

Y/N met his gaze, searching it. “I know you’re worried.”

“Damn right I am.”

She sighed, resting her forehead to his. “I don’t want to be treated like I’m breakable.”

“You’re not,” he said softly. “But you’re carryin’ our baby. And I’ve already got two little wild things out there who look up to you like you hung the moon. I can’t—won’t—risk anything happenin’ to you.”

She kissed him then, quiet and slow. “I know.”

He kissed her back with a kind of ache, the kind that only comes from loving someone so deeply it stretches through your bones.

“Then let me take a little more off your plate,” he said against her lips. “Let me handle the grocery runs. The messes. I’ve got a few deputies who owe me favors. And I can move things around with the babysitter for your next appointment.”

Y/N blinked, the words settling slowly in her chest. “You already started planning?”

“I did,” he admitted. “Last night. Just little things. Just so you don’t have to keep holding it all.”

Her eyes shimmered as she whispered, “You’re a good man, Beau Arlen.”

“No,” he murmured, brushing her hair back. “I’m just a man who got lucky enough to love you. And smart enough to not take that for granted.”

She pulled him closer, curling into his warmth. “I love you.”

“I know.” His voice was low, tender. “But I’ll never get tired of hearing it.”

The rest of the house began to stir—the soft thud of little feet, the giggle of a baby, the faint clang of something being knocked over.

Beau sighed. “That’ll be our wolves.”

Y/N laughed softly, already reaching for the blankets. “Back to the real world.”

He kissed her once more before they sat up—two parents, two partners, two people trying to love each other better than the day before.

And with a smile passed between them, they rose—ready to meet the noise and joy and mess of another day.

Together.

Beau had always been good at reading people.

It came with the job—years of watching body language, listening between the lines, understanding when someone said they were fine but meant anything but. But that skill had only sharpened when it came to Y/N.

He’d known the moment she said “I’m okay” yesterday that she was holding back a little. That she didn’t want to worry him. That she didn’t want to need help.

So now, he was going to help in the way she’d accept—quietly. Steadily. Without making a show of it.

After morning breakfast wrangling and wolf patrol storytelling courtesy of Eliza, Beau kissed his wife softly and headed out the door. He paused with one hand on the knob, looking back.

“Call me if you need anything,” he said.

“I will.”

“You mean it?”

Y/N gave him a look. “Beau.”

He grinned and stepped outside, the door clicking softly behind him.

The day at the department started early, as always. But Beau had arrived an hour ahead of the others. He dropped his bag behind his desk and pulled out the notepad he’d scribbled on the night before.

The first thing he did was place a call to the babysitter they trusted most—the one who knew Eliza’s “wolf rules” and Caleb’s dramatic snack preferences.

“Think you can help out a little more this week?” Beau asked. “Just a few hours, every couple days. Give Y/N a breather.”

The sitter agreed in a heartbeat.

Next, he popped into Doris’s office. She glanced up from her computer, instantly suspicious. “You’re about to ask me for something.”

“I need to swap shifts with Carter next Friday,” Beau said, leaning against the doorway. “Y/N has a follow-up appointment. I want to be there.”

Doris nodded, tapping it into the calendar without question. “Anything else, or just being a responsible husband?”

He smiled faintly. “Both.”

Jenny found him an hour later in the break room, mid-coffee refill.

“You’re in early,” she noted. “Trying to impress someone?”

Beau shrugged. “Got a lot on my plate. Needed the head start.”

She studied him a beat longer, then her tone softened. “How’s Y/N?”

“She’s okay,” he said. “Baby’s okay. But her blood pressure’s creeping up. They’re watching it close. I’m just… trying to make sure I don’t let her carry more than she has to.”

Jenny handed him a new pen from her jacket pocket—one of the good ones. “You’re already doing that just by showing up.”

Back in his office, Beau cleared his schedule as much as he could, pushed unnecessary meetings off his plate, and coordinated with Carter about taking a few patrols off his hands.

By lunch, his notebook had turned into a list of meals to prep, chores to knock out, and quiet plans to give Y/N more space to breathe.

Because she deserved more than just his love.

She deserved his presence. His effort. His partnership.

When Beau pulled into the driveway later that day—an armful of groceries balanced at his side, a bouquet of soft yellow daisies tucked between them—he felt the same weightless peace he always did when he saw that front porch.

Inside was the reason for everything.

And with every adjustment, every shift of his time and his energy, he was telling her without words—

I’ve got you. I always will.

The house was quieter than usual, but not silent. Eliza was in the living room, her latest wolf council meeting currently held between two plushies and a stack of crayons, while Caleb napped in his crib—miraculously, without protest.

Y/N sat at the kitchen table, hands wrapped around a cup of chamomile tea she hadn’t reheated for once, eyes skimming across the list Beau had left stuck to the fridge that morning.

It was simple. Just a few bullet points scribbled in his familiar, careful hand:

Dinner ideas for the week

Babysitter confirmed for Thursday & Saturday

Eliza’s pre-K forms printed—on my desk

You come first. Let me carry more. I love you.

She blinked at the last line, the words catching somewhere low in her throat.

God, he loved her well.

And it wasn’t just the sweeping gestures or whispered I love yous in bed. It was in the way he noticed when she was too tired to finish folding laundry. In how he picked up more diapers without being asked. In how he spoke with calm certainty when she told him about her rising blood pressure—no panic, just quiet resolve.

This was the man she’d built a life with.

And right now, she was trying—really trying—to let him help her without guilt.

So she let herself slow down.

After breakfast, she’d watched cartoons with Eliza, curled on the couch with her daughter tucked under her arm, both of them munching toast. They’d read two full stories, one of which Eliza insisted she read to Y/N—her words jumbled and mispronounced, but her pride clear.

“You’re resting because the new baby’s growing fast,” Eliza had said matter-of-factly, brushing a crumb from Y/N’s shirt. “It’s okay if you don’t do everything.”

Y/N had smiled and kissed her forehead. “Where’d you learn that?”

“Daddy said it when you were brushing your teeth last night.”

Now, in the quiet that followed, Y/N stood from the table and moved slowly, easing herself into one of the armchairs by the window. She’d resisted resting for rest’s sake, always finding something else that needed to be done. But today—today she listened.

She put her feet up.

She read a few pages of a book.

She closed her eyes for a minute when the sun hit the chair just right.

And when Caleb’s monitor finally crackled to life, she stretched, stood, and moved to his room with the ease of a mother who knew the steps by heart—but with the gentle calm of someone who was finally letting herself breathe.

She scooped him up, nuzzled his cheek, and held him just a moment longer than she had to.

Because this life was beautiful.

Messy. Complicated. Precious.

And for the first time in a while, she felt it fully—without the rush.

Y/N was just finishing wiping down Caleb’s tray after a late afternoon snack—a few abandoned blueberries still clinging to the edge—when she heard the sound of tires on the gravel outside. The familiar engine hum settled into silence, and her breath caught gently in her chest.

She didn’t expect him home yet. Not this early.

A moment later, the front door eased open.

“Hey,” Beau called softly, as if sensing the quiet rhythm of the house and not wanting to disturb it.

Y/N peeked around the corner, Caleb perched on her hip. Eliza popped her head out from behind the couch with a crayon in her hair and glitter stuck to her elbow.

“You’re home,” Y/N said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Surprise,” Beau replied, stepping fully inside. He looked warm and wind-kissed, the faintest line of weariness around his eyes—but something in his expression was brighter. Lighter. “I shuffled things around. Didn’t make sense to stay when I could be here.”

In one hand, he held a brown paper grocery bag. In the other, a small bouquet of soft yellow daisies.

Y/N blinked, touched.

He walked up, kissed her on the cheek, then turned to Caleb. “Hey, buddy,” he murmured, giving his son’s round belly a gentle pat. Caleb responded with a delighted squeal and immediately tried to grab the daisies.

“These are for your mama,” Beau said, handing them to Y/N.

“They’re beautiful,” she said softly, brushing her fingers along the petals. “You didn’t have to—”

“I wanted to,” he said. “You don’t have to earn rest or softness, Y/N. You deserve it.”

He leaned in and kissed her again, this time lingering a little longer. Then, setting down the groceries, he turned toward Eliza, who had now crept into the kitchen with a suspicious look in her eyes.

“What’s all that?” she asked, pointing to the bag.

“Provisions,” Beau said seriously. “We’ve got soup, fresh bread, a chocolate treat and the ingredients for pancakes tomorrow morning.”

Eliza gasped. “That’s pack celebration food!”

Beau winked. “Exactly.”

He moved with familiar grace through the kitchen—putting the bread away, sliding the soup into the fridge, placing a wrapped chocolate bar high enough that Eliza wouldn’t find it until he handed it over himself. And Y/N stood there, hand on her belly, watching him in quiet wonder.

He had always been good at loving her in the ways that mattered most.

“I made a few more adjustments today,” he said casually as he unpacked. “Shift changes. Babysitter’s lined up through the week. Got the grocery list settled for the next few days, and I’ll take over dinner tomorrow.”

Y/N stepped forward, laying a hand on his arm. “Beau.”

He paused.

“You’re not just helping,” she said quietly. “You’re holding us all together. And I see it. I feel it.”

He looked at her then—soft, full—and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m not doing anything more than what you deserve.”

She kissed him again, then pressed Caleb gently into his arms.

“Take this one. He’s been climbing furniture since his nap.”

Beau grinned. “A wild little wolf, huh?”

“The wildest.”

As he moved toward the living room with Caleb tucked against him and Eliza trailing close behind asking questions about pancakes, Y/N gathered the daisies in a jar and set them on the kitchen windowsill. The sun caught the petals just right.

She exhaled slowly.

Loved.

Seen.

And never, ever alone.

Beau sat on the living room floor, his legs stretched out, a toy firetruck resting against one knee, and Caleb crawling in a wide, clumsy circle between him and Eliza. The room pulsed with that cozy afternoon rhythm—sunlight casting warm stripes across the carpet, Eliza narrating a story about “the great wolf feast,” and Caleb occasionally stopping to examine his own fingers like they were new.

Y/N watched from the nearby couch, curled into the cushions with a cup of lukewarm tea in hand and her other resting lightly on her belly. Her smile was lazy, full of that rare sort of peace that came from watching her world be—wild, sweet, noisy, and perfectly intact.

Caleb, still gripping a rubber spoon, paused in front of Beau and looked up with a big, gummy grin.

“Da!” he chirped, tapping Beau’s knee with the spoon.

Beau grinned back. “That’s right, little man.”

But then—without prompting, without fanfare—Caleb turned toward his sister and pointed, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Eliza,” Beau said softly, watching.

Caleb nodded once, almost like he’d made a final decision.

“Ee-sa!”

Beau blinked.

Y/N sat up a little straighter.

Eliza gasped, her crayon rolling off the table. “Did he just—he did! He said my name!”

“Ee-sa!” Caleb repeated proudly, bouncing where he sat.

Beau scooped him up with a laugh, lifting him high in the air. “That’s your sister, alright. You know her now, huh?”

Caleb giggled, delighted by the reaction.

Then, as Beau pulled him in close for a hug, the toddler twisted in his arms and looked toward the couch.

His eyes lit up.

“Mama!”

Y/N froze for just a second, her heart catching so completely it made her breath hitch.

Beau turned, still holding Caleb. “What did you say, buddy?”

Caleb grinned, pointing directly at Y/N, his chubby hand waving.

“Mama.”

Y/N’s smile bloomed slowly, eyes glistening as she set her tea aside and rose to her feet. “Oh, sweetheart…”

She walked over, and Beau lowered Caleb into her arms. The little boy curled into her like he belonged there—which, of course, he did—and tucked his face against her shoulder with a happy little sigh.

Eliza clapped like it was a royal announcement. “He knows all of us now! He said Mama and Da and Ee-sa. That means he’s officially pack-certified!”

Y/N laughed softly, tears threatening the edges of her lashes as she kissed Caleb’s cheek. “You’ve got your whole family in your heart now, don’t you, baby boy?”

Beau wrapped an arm around both of them, his other hand reaching for Eliza to pull her in too. And just like that, they were tangled in a warm, laughing, loving heap of limbs and hearts and words that meant everything.

“Mama,” Caleb murmured again, content and sure.

And Y/N closed her eyes, overwhelmed by the beauty of such a small word carrying such a big, beautiful life inside it.

The scent of rosemary and roasted chicken drifted through the house like an invitation, warm and grounding. Y/N moved through the kitchen at a gentle pace, stirring gravy with one hand, her other resting lightly on the small of her back. Beau hovered close, not hovering in a suffocating way—just present, always ready to step in with a steady hand or a dish towel.

Eliza sat at the dining table, completely engrossed in folding napkins into "wolf scrolls" and assigning each family member an animal title. “Mama,” she said thoughtfully, “you can be the Luna Wolf Queen. Caleb’s the baby Alpha-in-training. And Daddy… you’re the Elder Alpha.”

Beau raised a brow from where he was pouring water into glasses. “Elder?”

Eliza shrugged. “Because you’ve got, you know… those little white hairs in your beard.”

Y/N covered her laugh with a cough. “She’s observant.”

Beau gave Eliza a mock stern look. “That’s distinguished, little wolf.”

“Okay, okay,” Eliza said, waving her hands. “Distinguished Elder Alpha.”

Caleb, bouncing in his high chair, smacked his spoon down and exclaimed, “Ee-sa! Mama! Da!”

Y/N paused in her movements, warmth blooming in her chest all over again. Every time he said it, it struck her fresh. The wonder of it. The rightness.

They sat down to eat, the clink of silverware and the rustle of napkins filling the air between snippets of Eliza’s commentary and Caleb’s delighted babbling. Y/N’s plate was already prepared for her by Beau—he’d made sure she didn’t have to lift a finger more than necessary.

“Everything smells so good,” she said softly, taking a bite and letting herself lean into the moment.

Beau reached across the table, brushing his fingers over hers. “Only the best for my Luna Queen.”

Eliza beamed. “See? I told you the titles made sense!”

As the meal went on, Caleb tried to feed his peas to his stuffed bear. Eliza launched into a dramatic tale involving wolves, forest mushrooms, and a magical teacup. Y/N laughed until her sides ached. Beau wiped mashed carrots off Caleb’s forehead without missing a beat.

The light outside dimmed slowly, golden fading into the dusky lavender of early evening, and still, they lingered—plates half-finished, stories halfway told, love absolutely everywhere.

No one said it aloud, but they all felt it.

This table held more than dinner.

It held belonging.

Y/N leaned into Beau’s side as he stood to clear the dishes, whispering, “Thank you. For this. For today.”

He looked down at her, brushing his lips against her hair. “Thank you for giving me this life.”

And with the children giggling in the background and the last of the warmth lingering in the kitchen, they moved as a unit—this wild, wonderful pack they had created.

Together.

The house had gone still in that way it only ever did after bedtime.

The dishes were done, toys tucked away, and the gentle hum of the baby monitor crackled quietly on the nightstand. The air in their bedroom was cool and quiet, the scent of clean sheets and faint lavender lingering in the space they now called theirs.

Y/N lay curled on her side, already half-drifting when Beau stepped out of the bathroom, towel draped over his shoulders, hair slightly damp. He moved quietly, as he always did in the dark—careful, steady—but when he reached the edge of the bed and saw her watching him, something softened even further in his eyes.

She reached out, fingers grazing the back of his hand. “You’re still awake.”

He slid under the sheets beside her, propping himself on one elbow. “Couldn’t stop thinking.”

“About what?”

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek, trailing down to rest his hand against her belly. “You. Today. Everything you’re carrying.”

She turned into his touch, her voice soft. “I’m alright, Beau.”

“I know,” he murmured, though the hesitation in his voice lingered. “But still… with your blood pressure, I didn’t want to push. I’ve been holding back. I don’t want to risk anything.”

Y/N shifted closer, threading her hand through his. “Loving me doesn’t put me at risk.”

He exhaled slowly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Doesn’t mean I’m not scared.”

She leaned in, pressing a kiss just under his jaw, slow and sure. “Then let me show you I’m okay. Let me remind you that I still need this—need you.”

His breath caught, the tension in his shoulders softening as she guided his hand to her waist. His fingers spread instinctively, anchoring to her. His forehead met hers, and he waited—silent, reverent.

“You sure?” he whispered.

She smiled, her voice low. “I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t.”

So he kissed her—slow, lingering, full of everything he couldn’t say with words. And when he touched her next, it was with the kind of tenderness that spoke of knowing every inch of her. Every shift of breath. Every beat of the life they’d built together.

They moved like a memory. No rush. No urgency. Just reverence.

He whispered her name like it was something sacred, his hand splayed across her belly as he moved within her—measured, patient, full of devotion. She held him close, fingertips tracing the lines of his shoulders, the curve of his spine, the heart of the man who never stopped holding her—even when she tried to carry everything alone.

It was quiet between them, soft moans and sighs tucked between kisses and promises spoken only in touch. Their bodies knew the rhythm of love that wasn’t about passion alone—but about presence.

When they came together, it wasn’t a crescendo—it was a deep exhale. A return. A reminder.

After, they lay tangled beneath the covers, limbs still warm, breaths beginning to slow.

Beau brushed the hair from her forehead, still watching her like she might vanish if he blinked. “Thank you,” he murmured.

Y/N smiled, eyes half-closed. “For what?”

“For letting me love you like that,” he whispered. “For being mine.”

She curled closer, her voice the last thread of light before sleep. “Always.”

The first fingers of morning sunlight crept across the bedroom, turning the white sheets a soft, golden hue. Outside, the world was still hushed—no car doors, no barking dogs, no thundering of little feet just yet.

Inside, the bed was a tangle of limbs and warmth, the kind of closeness born from love given and received without walls.

Y/N woke first.

She blinked slowly, savoring the rare stillness, the gentle weight of Beau’s arm wrapped protectively around her waist. His hand rested lightly over the curve of her belly, fingers twitching slightly in sleep, like even in his dreams, he was tethered to her.

She smiled against the pillow, her heart full in that quiet, aching way.

She shifted just enough to turn and face him. Beau slept heavily, his features relaxed, softer than anyone else ever got to see. The faint stubble on his jaw brushed the edge of the pillow, and a few strands of his hair had gone rogue across his forehead. He looked younger like this. Looser.

Beautiful, she thought, pressing a featherlight kiss to his chest where her hand rested.

As if sensing her, he stirred.

His arms tightened around her instinctively, drawing her back into him without even opening his eyes. “Mornin’,” he mumbled, voice gravelly and deep.

“Morning,” she whispered back, nuzzling against him.

For a long stretch of moments, they just lay there—breathing, being. The kind of intimacy that didn’t need words, that wasn’t rushed or heavy with demands. Just there.

Eventually, Beau tilted his head down, brushing his lips against her hair. “You okay?”

She nodded, smiling. “Better than okay.”

He smiled too, slow and lazy. “Good. ‘Cause I don’t plan on lettin’ you outta bed for a while.”

She chuckled softly. “You planning to call in backup at the station? Explain how the Luna Queen declared a family snuggle day?”

He hummed, his chest vibrating beneath her. “Think Doris would understand. Might even send supplies.”

They fell into a slow, easy kiss—no urgency, just tenderness. The kind that spoke of trust, of promises already kept.

When they finally pulled apart, Y/N tucked her head under Beau’s chin, her body perfectly molded against his.

Outside the door, faint footsteps padded along the hall, followed by a muffled giggle.

“The wolves are awake,” Y/N whispered.

Beau sighed with theatrical sorrow. “Our peaceful reign has ended.”

But even as Caleb’s babbling and Eliza’s dramatic storytelling filtered through the crack beneath the door, Beau only held her tighter.

“We’ll take it slow today,” he promised, voice a rough, soft vow. “For you. For the baby. For us.”

Y/N smiled against his skin.

She knew he meant it.

And for the first time in a long time, she let herself believe—deep in her bones—that no matter what came next, they’d carry it together.

One quiet, steady morning at a time.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

@hobby27, @hellsbratonthet

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here and I'll add you! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

[forsakenwitchery]

merrical ⊹ hands

since the majority voted Merrical, I'm more than happy to oblige. :D tho I can't offer much but free cam angles for them. if you want me to gif specific scenes, ask, I guess?

btw I've never noticed Merrin smiles watching Cal sleep? I'm probably way waaaaay late with this revelation, but I'm just surprised that after doing a few vids after Survivor, with some angle of this scene in every single one, I'm only noticing it now. ahhhh that's so sweet. :c

[littleplantfreak]

Assigned Hybrids (according to me!)

Anon said I should assigned my moots as hybrids so I had the people interested like that post

In no particular order!

@oceaneyesinla Rox is…not a fox despite my tag for them. I’m thinking a mouse hybrid. You’re cute and I do think you would squeak.

@nyxypoo nyx is a bunny. Idk I don’t make the rules well i made the post but and I can see u doing the bunny stomping thing especially when Endo’s on the brain irritating you. Reaching for your tail secretly….

@birinboom a lamb if only so we can frolic together and you’re a bit of a troublemaker despite your cute looks. Otherwise you are a pampered kitty like Duchess from the aristocats.

@o-sachi Sachi my beloved you’re a lion hybrid I think. Or another big cat, but lion was the first to come to mind. Please let me pat your head regardless.

@ironlotus13 Emi! You give me deer vibes. Not fawn but like full on deer. Looks delicate, but certainly isn't when it comes down to it. I could imagine you still have the spots though cause they’re cute. Gives you little antlers cause theyre also v cute aesthetically

@voidcat You’re a cat hybrid. You constantly knock things closer and closer to the edge of the table. Maybe that’s why you like Gen. Cat vs cat but you keep dragging him by the neck scruff with your teeth. 10/10 would still try to pinch your cheeks despite the obvious dangers

@vinomino Mino you’re a bird hybrid I have decided. You remind me of my dad’s parrot he had when I was younger. Sometimes I have the urge to put a blanket over you when you’re up super late like they do with birds.

@hayatoseyepatch Sam you’re always kinda elegant but playful to me and I dont know if it’s Suo’s fault but I get fox hybrid vibes. Otherwise you’d be a swan, but fox was my first pick!

@maruflix you’re a puppy hybrid like me i think Maru! You’re affectionate in a puppy way and very lovable as well. Definitely one that has one of those tails that smack someone’s leg and they go “holy shit” because its like a whip

[dearlenore]

“SHES THE BOSS” • S.REID

SUMMARY: the team is stunned when their boy genius accidentally reveals that he’s dating a woman with a child while discussing an unsub, leaving them reeling from the unexpected revelation.

PAIRING: mom!reader x stepdad!spencer.

TAGS: reader is hyper feminine, season10!spencer, reader wears makeup, three uses of y/n, heavy flirting, mentions of adoption, use of my love, angel and spence

a/n ; incredibly rushed + editor is occupied for the foreseeable future</3

w/c ; 1.1k

THE PLANE WAS quiet, save for the hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of pages as Spencer flipped through his book. JJ was dozing, her breathing steady, while the rest of the team sat in various states of exhaustion. It was early—earlier than usual for their departures—but the case had allowed them the rare opportunity to leave after sunrise.

Morgan was the first to break the silence, shifting in his seat as he answered his phone.

“Morning, Baby Girl,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face.

“I’ll show you a good morning, hot stuff,” Penelope teased. “Listen, I’ve got urgent business.

Hotch, barely awake, sighed as he opened his laptop. “What is it?”

“This is a non-negotiable situation,” Penelope declared. “One of the most pressing cases you will ever face as a team.”

The atmosphere immediately changed. The team straightened, their exhaustion pushed aside.

“What happened?” Emily asked.

“What are we walking into?” Rossi added, already reaching for his coffee.

Penelope grinned. “A party.”

JJ blinked awake. “What?”

“A party,” Penelope repeated, voice smug. “For your pregnancy. You didn’t think you were getting out of that, did you?”

JJ groaned, rubbing her face. “Garcia, that is not urgent.

“Oh, but it is. It’s a team event, which means no skipping, no backing out, and definitely no working through it. This is happening.”

Morgan chuckled. “Well, if it’s an order…”

“Damn right it is.”

Spencer, still reading, murmured absentmindedly, “I’ll have to make sure we don’t have plans, but I think it should be fine. She’s the boss.”

The words were casual, almost an afterthought.

Emily frowned. “We?”

Rossi raised a brow. “She?”

Spencer barely looked up. “Yeah.”

A beat of silence.

JJ, now more awake, tilted her head. “Who’s we?”

Spencer blinked, realizing too late what he’d said. He hesitated, then attempted a nonchalant response. “Uh—just, you know. Home plans.”

Morgan narrowed his eyes. “Home. As in… your home?”

Rossi leaned forward. “Reid, you live alone.”

Spencer shifted slightly in his seat. “Well, technically, I—”

Morgan’s eyes widened. “Wait. Are you saying—”

“I just meant I’d have to check with my girlfriend,” Spencer said quickly, then paused before sighing. “And, um, her daughter.”

Silence.

Emily’s eyes darted between the others, processing. JJ’s brows raised. Rossi’s expression turned amused.

Morgan slowly grinned. “Oh, now this is interesting.”

Penelope gasped. “Wait just a minute. Spencer Reid, you have a girlfriend? And there’s a child in the mix?”

Spencer exhaled, already regretting his choice of words. “It’s not— I mean, yes, but—”a

“Oh no, no, no,” Emily said, smirking. “You’re not talking your way out of this.”

JJ grinned. “How long were you planning on keeping that secret?”

“I wasn’t— It just didn’t seem relevant,” Spencer muttered, rubbing his temple.

Morgan chuckled. “Oh, it’s very relevant. And we’re definitely talking about this.”

And just like that, JJ’s party was no longer the main event.

“Is she coming?” Derek asked, spinning around in his chair to face Spencer.

Spencer glanced at his watch, a small smile playing at his lips. “Three… two… one.”

Right on cue, the distant ding of the elevator echoed through the bullpen. A second later, the glass doors swung open, and before anyone could react, a small figure bolted into the room.

Spencer’s face lit up as the young girl ran straight into his arms, giggling as he lifted her effortlessly. The resemblance was uncanny—messy brown curls framed her small face, her expressive eyes mirroring his own. Even her outfit bore a striking resemblance to his: a crisp white sweater, a plaid skirt, and well-worn Converse.

“Hey, Nani!” Spencer twirled her around, his usual reserved demeanor melting into something soft and undeniably affectionate.

Meanwhile, the team was still processing what they were seeing.

“Am I hallucinating, or does she literally look just like him?” Emily whispered to JJ.

“You’re not hallucinating,” JJ muttered back, equally stunned.

Before anyone could voice their confusion, another figure stepped into the bullpen with effortless confidence.

You.

The contrast between you and Spencer was almost jarring—you, with your sleek, put-together appearance, exuding elegance in a fitted black blouse, tailored khaki pants, and designer heels that complemented the luxury purse resting on your arm. Your hair was styled to perfection, makeup subtle but undeniably polished. You carried yourself with an ease that immediately commanded attention.

Spencer pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before setting Nani down, his hand resting at the small of your back. “I’m glad you’re back in one piece, my love.”

“As always angel” He smiled.

You smiled warmly, extending a hand toward his coworkers, who were all still frozen in shock. “Y/N. Hi. It’s so nice to meet you all.”

Silence.

Emily blinked. “Okay, someone needs to start talking because I feel like I missed about a hundred chapters.”

Morgan crossed his arms, looking between Spencer, you, and the little girl now clinging to his leg. “Yeah, kid. You wanna explain, or should we just keep making our own theories?”

Spencer cleared his throat, glancing at you as if asking permission. You only smirked, clearly amused by the reactions.

“Well…” Spencer started awkwardly. “Everyone… this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

“And the mini you?” Rossi gestured toward Nani, eyebrow raised.

Spencer sighed, a small, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “And this is Nani. Y/N’s daughter

JJ’s eyes widened. “Wait. You’re dating someone with a kid?”

“And apparently co-parenting?” Emily added, still trying to wrap her head around it.

Morgan let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Damn, pretty boy. You really kept this one under wraps.”

You chuckled, squeezing Spencer’s hand reassuringly. “To be fair, I was begging to meet you guys.”

Garcia’s voice suddenly echoed from behind them, her jaw practically on the floor. “Hold up. Did no one think to tell me that our resident genius has a whole family now?”

Spencer groaned, rubbing his temple. “I wouldn’t say—“

“Uh-uh, no backtracking,” Morgan cut in. “This is huge. And you just casually count down like this is some normal Tuesday?”

Spencer looked at you again, this time with a slightly pleading expression. You laughed softly before turning back to the team. “Long story short? We’ve been together for a while, and yes, Nani’s mine, adopted. And Spencer’s been amazing with her.”

Nani grinned up at Spencer before looking at the group. “He helps me with my math homework. And he reads me bedtime stories.” She spoke with a polished accent.

JJ clasped a hand over her heart. “Okay, that’s adorable.”

Emily shook her head in disbelief, still processing. “I just… I need a minute.”

Rossi chuckled, patting Spencer on the back. “Well, kid, looks like you finally managed to surprise us.”

Spencer sighed, resigning himself to the inevitable teasing. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get it over with.”

Morgan smirked. “Oh, don’t worry. We’re just getting started.”

And with that, the interrogation began.

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

------

See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/

[flymetothexmoon]

Books + Cheap Thrills

Warning: Smut. Oral F!Receiving. Swearing. Cigarette Smoking.

Pairing: Established relationship with Seunghyun x F!Reader.

Authors Note: okay cuties... not the best smut i've ever written, but maybe hopefully not the worst smut you've ever read. this is a loong one~

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

The apartment was quiet, and you hated to love it.

Your boyfriend, Seunghyun, was currently on "boys date night" as he called it, which in simplistic terms it meant that him and Ji-yong were out, persumbly drinking, and exchanging soft murmurs back and fourth about what was going on in their personal lives at the moment.

Ji-yong was about to embark on a world tour and Seunghyun had just finished his batch of delayed, solo promotional interviews for Squid Game season two.

That left you here, tangeld up in Seunghyun's white cotton duvet, in his apartment, book in hand, lights dim, and alone.

You did not mind being alone, in fact, the darker haired man actually tried to get you to go with him, insisting it would still be "boys date night" but "with a pretty girl tagging along" and he even went as far as pouting when you had told him no, a small smile tugging at your lips. He needed this; you needed this. You had always been known to be someone who does not meddle in other people's business and want to spend every second with the person you are with romantically.

Seunghyun use to be that person– before he met you. Now, he wanted to spend all of his free time with you; calling you while he had a quiet moment during his interviews, texting you silly little pictures of him giving you the finger heart... he loved it all, he loved you and that was no hushed secret between the two of you.

Your fingers slid across the spine of the book in your hand, admiring the texture. Slowly, you put the book on your chest for a moment, your shirt slowly rising at the sudden contact. You reached for your phone on your nightstand, gently tapping in a few numbers to unlock its contents, revealing you already had iMessages with Seunghyun pulled up.

Your Contact Name: have fun at boys date night. have a glass of wine for me :)

Almost instantly, your phone buzzed, indicating he had messaged you back; simple, sweet, and all you needed to allow yourself comfort in reading your book until he got home.

Moon Boy🌙🩶: 😘

A small smile spread across your lips as you put your phone back on your nightstand, leaving the ringer on just in case your boyfriend needed you in the night. You looked back at your book on your lap and to your outfit, realizing you might as well take advantage and make yourself comfortable.

Bringing yourself to your feet, you neatly placed your book on the duvet and your body found its way to the front of you and Seunghyun's shared closet, opening the double doors as you looked inside, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you puzzled what to wear. Finally, your hands grabbed a hanger with one of Seunghyun's hoodies wrapped around it, a small smile spreading across your lips.

You rid yourself of the jeans you were wearing and also disregarded of the white tank top as well. For a moment your eyes caught your reflection in the mirror Seunghyun had in his room; he had kept it next to his closet so he could decide what future outfits he thought looked best, the only addition was that he added little string lights across the mirror's edges so you could sit on the floor in front of it and do your makeup if you wanted.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you looked at yourself in the mirror in just your bra and panties, your boyfriend's oversized hoodie draped around your arm. Some days were easier when it came to loving your body, and being with Seunghyun definitely improved your confidence, as it was no surprise that he worshiped you. You eventually decided to be a little riskier than usual as you placed his hoodie on the ground next to your feet, your hands unclasping your bra as you tossed the garment in the hamper nearest to you, quickly throwing on the hoodie that thankfully came before your knees... perfect.

You did a little twirl in front of the mirror, a low giggle escaping your vocal cords as you made your way back to bed, pulling the duvet up high on your chest, picking your book back up as you began to read.

Minutes to turned almost two hours and you were honestly invested. You reached over for your phone to check the time and for any messages; no messages from Seunghyun, and judging by the time across your home screen, it had officially been three hours since you had last seen him.

You, of course did not mind, you knew how badly he needed this— to be out with his best friend and allow the night to take over his insides, to let loose. You allowed yourself to get lost in your book again and before long, an audible gasp escaped your vocal cords as the book started to get steamy.

The book started to go into extensive detail– explaining everything from how the main character was receiving oral, to even how they were also fond of something the two of you shared... the fixation of another person's hands around your throat. Another low gasp escaped your mouth as you felt a sudden heat begin to radiate down below and suddenly... suddenly you kept one hand on the book, reading vigorously, easy to find out what happened next, and your free hand gripped the bottom of Seunghyun's hoodie, lifting it slightly so you were slightly exposed to the cold room, a shiver sending down your spine.

Blood began to form on your tongue as you chewed on the inside of your cheek, and the heat below your stomach was not enough to keep you warm as you quickly released your grip on your boyfriend's hoodie and reached over to your nightstand once again, slowly grazing your fingertips against the handle as you opened the drawer, removing what was hidden deep inside.

It was not like you were hiding necessarily what was deep in there, Seunghyun was even the one who bought you what was now wrapped around your free hand, he had bought it for you recently actually, knowning that the hours on the Squid Game set would be long and surely there would be times you would need him and he simply could not be there. "I do not want you to feel ashamed baby. We all do it. Just make sure to tell me whenever you do," he'd say.

Your hand gently moved up and down on the toy, imaging it was something different as your eyes closed. Wanting more, your eyes quickly shot open as you laid the toy on your chest as you grabbed your phone, quickly typing out a message to Seunghyun. It would've been easier said than done to just ask him to come home, but something in the way the main character acted in your book, so full of cheap thrills it made you decide to play a little game with him.

Your Contact Name: baby, no need to come home right away. my book just got to the good part. i have my toy 😋

You shifted on the bed, allowing your back to prop against the pillows behind you a little better as your mind began to drift into a place where Seunghyun was here, and you began to picture yourself like the main character in your book, where he had his hands firmly wrapped around your neck, his thumb slowly finding its way into your mouth as he pushed all of his body weight on top of y–....

Ding.

Embarrassed, you gathered your thoughts the best you could and read Seunghyun's message to you, which according to the time stamp, came in seconds after yours.

Moon Boy🌙🩶: Fuck. I'm coming home. Right now. You better wait for me. Gonna make it so you can't walk in the morning...

Challenge accepted.

Your Contact Name: heheh... and if i don't? is that a promise??

Another ding.

Moon Boy🌙🩶: No. It's a threat.

Your breath hitched. The two of you had sexted before, there were even times he had you on Facetime sprawled out for him and only him and Seunghyun would never openly admit it, but he loved that type of stuff.

You chose not to reply, opting to if anything, toggle the DND on your phone, figuring you would make him sweat a bit at the thought of you possibly not wanting it out for him. You knew exactly where him and Ji-yong were, you trusted them both, and Seunghyun told you their whole plan for the night. Not because you asked him to, but because he wanted to; he wanted you to know where he was going to be.

Realistically, given that Seunghyun does not drive, you figured it would take him at least 40 minutes to get to you. A murmured sigh escaped your local cords as you looked at to your phone again so you keep track of the time. You were about to hit the lock button when another text message dang in.

Moon Boy🌙🩶: I am going to take your silence as a sign that you understood or that you are being a very bad girl... Regardless of the outcome, I'll be home in 10. See you soon Princess.

The darker haired man always had a way with words, and that was one honestly one of the many reasons as to why you had fallen for him.

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, desperate to feel something as you nodded your head, knowning he was unable to see your silent response to his message. Placing your phone back on your nightstand, you did it phone side down so you would not be tempted to message him back, despite the ongoing heat that was growing below your abdomen.

10 minutes sounded a lot better than 40 minutes as your spine slid down the pillows behind you. Slowly, you could feel your own hand sliding down your chest to your stomach to finally stopping right at the bottom of the oversized hoodie you chose to wear, your tiny hands began to scrunch at the fabric, causing it to wrinkle slightly against your now exposed skin. That morning you chose to wear something sexier than usual, and you were thankful, not because Seunghyun really cared what you wore, but it made you feel good.

The panties you chose wear black, lacy, and had a little red bow in the center to contrast the black of the loose fabric. You knew your boyfriend would appreciate them; one of the nights he was gone while filming and you two were on Facetime, during a breathy moment on his end, he had let it slip he always loved to see you in lace, and what it did to him.

You could find yourself almost slipping, just barely allowing your fingertips to grace against the fabric, getting a tease of what Seunghyun would soon enough feel for himself. You had not even touched yourself and you could feel your eyes glossing over as you shut them, trying your best to be the good girl Seunghyun wants you to be.

Before long, your eyes quickly shot open when you heard the front door open and the eager, muffled sound of your boyfriend saying goodnight to his friend echoed in your ears before the door slammed shut, making a shiver run down your spine.

Seunghyun's shoes were heard shortly after, the sound of them gently being hit against the wall as he tore them off his feet. He was close. You tried your best to move your body in a way so you were sprawled out and on display for him but still comfortable and grabbed your book, pretending like you had no idea how you looked and that you were invested in reading what was soon to hopefully become your reality as your teeth bit your bottom lip seductively.

It did not take long for the sound of the bedroom door swinging open to jolt you from your thoughts, still pretending like you were in the middle of reading.

Seunghyun had cleared his throat, his presence burning a hole in the middle of your chest– his was voice was so low it almost came out as a growl, or a demand, as he spoke into silence.

"You waited,"

It was getting harder and harder for you to play along as you bit your lip harder, feeling his presence slowly coming toward you like an animal coming to its pray. You felt the bed move, and in the corner of your eye you could see the duvet bunching at the bottom of the bed as he was on there with you, his body inching toward yours as his cologne from earlier began to fill your nose.

One of the number one questions that Seunghyun's fans, new and old, would ask is how he smells, and you can with confidence say that most days he smelt like a mixture of Marlboro Red cigarettes, sometimes a little fruity if he had some wine– which he definitely has, and his cologne was rich of Mahogany Teakwood.

You were waiting for him to say something, but he remained quiet, his palms now resting on either side of you as you felt his breath getting closer to yours, his long fingers slowly pushing the book down from your vision as he closed the gap between you, his lips barely giving you the time to kiss him back before they pulled away. His eyes were dark and glossed over, letting you know he was enjoying himself while out, and he was about to enjoy himself even more.

"I missed you. Judging by your texts, you missed me too, no? Or were you picturing the man in your book doing these things to you?" Before you could respond, Seunghyun had pushed his weight onto yours, earning a low gasp to come from your mouth. His face was still close as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, his teeth gently scraping little tiny love bites against the sensitive parts of your skin, his tongue gliding out of his mouth with ease as it slid across the areas where he was just nipping at you. "I missed you... No, it was all for you..."

Seunghyun's hips bucked against yours, a low growl escaping his own mouth as he nibbled down harder on you, murmuring sweet nothings in both Korean and English, the heat rising from down below to your cheeks as you began to find yourself attempting to push your body against his so he would get the hint to look down at you, his hoodie completely bunched up around your waist now as you could feel the friction of the lace hitting the fabric of his jeans.

"Mmm. What's this, princess? My hoodie?"

You nodded, eager to see what he would say next.

The taller man kept his position over your body, gently moving his way downward so he could really admire you. You could feel his body tense once his face stopped and was at eye level with you; his lips curved into the faintest smirk you'd ever seen, his eyes remaining at what was in front of him as he extended one of his hands, propping himself with only one now, as slid his middle finger down the front of your clothed folds, sending a shiver down your spine in the proces.

"You know what lace does to me baby..." Seunghyun kept gliding his finger down you, almost like he was trying to savor what the lace felt like against your skin. Quickly, his finger stopped, taking his thumb and pointer finger to clutch onto the little red bow between his fingers, a low chuckle escaping his vocal cords as you watched him shake his head– not in a dissapproving manner, God no, but amused.

Seunghyun was being awfully quiet after his comment about you knowing what lace did to him, the only sound in the room was the from the ceiling fan being so nice and the low hums coming from your boyfriend. You were about to say something when you soon felt the cold metal of Seunghyun's rings grace against your skin as your panties were quickly thrown gosh knows where.

"As much as I love how lace looks on you, I like it better off you. I am going to remind you who you belong to."

The next minute was a blur and you swore your eyes went hazy almost immediately as the sensation of a finger being instered into you, taking control of the decision making part of your brain. A low moan escaped your mouth as you wiggled slightly, allowing better access. You were able to somehow find the will power to grab a handful of Seunghyun's hair, his dark colored locks bleeding through the openings between your knuckles and earning an audible noise to escape his mouth.

Your reward?

A second digit being inserted as the first began to curl just right against you; the metal on his ring he chose to wear that night was cold, but against you, all you could feel was warmth, familiarity. It was not long before Seunghyun's mouth latched onto you like it was the last thing he ever wanted to taste. His fingers worked inside of you, syncing with the same movements of his tongue as you could feel him writing out the spelling of his name inside you.

His free hand settled on the lower inside of your hip, digging into the exposed flesh with his fingernails and leaving little tiny marks that only the two of you would be able to see and he knew that; he wanted you to look back on the markings he was leaving.

"M'm... You taste like strawberries..."

Seunghyun's voice was muffled as his lips parted just enough to make the strawberry comparison as his mouth continued to consume you, darting back and fourth between lapping up any part of you he could and allowing the taste of you to take control of his five senses, including even his nose that would occasionally bump into the lower part of your tummy with how quick his movements were, shaking his own head slightly in the process, too busy thinking about what it was like to be making out with a different part of you.

Your legs began tremble, your cheeks flushing the tiniest hue of red. Seunghyun could tell as his mouth left your pussy with the slightest popping effect, his face never fully leaving the sight of you, but his eyes looking up at you breathing so heavily, your hand still in his hair as he was the one who made you so low on oxygen, Seunghyun licking his own front and bottom lip to saver the taste of you, like he'd wake up and forget what it felt like to have his tongue so deep inside of you.

Just as quick as he removed his mouth, his fingers came out from you.

You hissed at the loss of contact, your brain slowly processing what had just happened.

If Seunghyun's neighbors did not hear anything at all that night and only heard your hiss, they would have thought a snake got loose in the apartment complex.

The bed shifted, and the mess of dark colored hair that was once in your hand was now left empty and balled into a tiny fist as you came to realize the man whose mouth was quite literally just devouring you like he'd never had pussy before in his life was now standing at the foot of your shared bed, one of his knees placed on top of the bed as you watched him unbuckle his belt, throwing the piece of leather to the floor with a loud clank from the belt buckle. Seunghyun's eyes were closed, and you could tell the way his fingers unzippped his dark wash jeans and popped the button open, he was teasing you, giving you the idea you knew he knew he was the one in control tonight.

Slowly, you moved from your original position on the bed and began to crawl towards him quietly, waiting needing to see him release himself to you. Once it finally happened and you were at eye level with his cock, your hand began to reach so you could at least try to repay him for what he made you feel earlier.

Smack.

Your hand was slowly met with the man in front of you gently hitting your hand with his palm, grabbing ahold of your wrist so you were forced to make eye contact, his darkened pupils were now very much open as they sized you up.

"Not so fast, Princess. You and I both know that I am the one suppose to be making you feel good; making you remember who you belong to. Got it?" Something triggered in your brain and you were able to do a small nod in respond. "Yes, baby... I got it..."

Seunghyun loved to be called baby. You remember one of the first times he told you how he really felt about the nickname, and in this moment, you found yourself remembering how he looked when he told you, the way his lips curved when he spoke and told you his feelings on the word, the way his glasses hung on his nose, and the way his little hairs stuck to his face with sweat at how nervous he felt in that moment.

"Actually, I do not even know who started saying that all Korean guys love being called 'oppa'. I guess it just depends on the person. As for me, I'd rather be called 'baby' or something like that."

Before you could even mention the sweet memory, your back was back against the bed and the nervous man in your memory was now hovering over you again, the look on his face not too different from the memory as you watched the way his lips were curved slightly and the way his little hairs were sticking to his face, the only difference really being that he did not have his glasses on and it was clear that instead of being nervous, he felt something else in this moment– lust.

Seunghyun's breathing began to unravel as the two of you made eye contact, and you could tell it was his way of silently making sure you wanted this. Any time you two were about to engage in sexual activity, even in the most obvious of times that you were okay, he would still silently ask.

That was all the darker hair man needed before you watched one of his hands gently grab ahold of himself, it did not take long as you watched his hand slowly move up and down his shaft; his eyes fluttering like little tiny butterflies as you felt his hips roll onto yours. His tip would slid over your core a few times, teasing, savoring, before it finally happened and you could feel your walls clenching and your hips being smacked into.

It never took long for you to quickly wrap your bodies together so they felt like one, your legs wrapping around his waist and with each thrust, you would attempt to push yourself onto him so he would be able to hit you deeper, which he happy obliged for. Your head had hit the bed against, quickly feeling Seunghyun's hand instead of fabric, quickly realizing that there were no pillows around, so he had used his hand in fear of you hitting your head.

Sex with Seunghyun definitely made you feel something, and if you to had to describe it to anyone, he was definitely the pleaser in the relationship. There were definitely times he loved to be babied, but he lived for the times to worship his partner or the person he was with– with each thrust, you could practically feel him edging inside of you, like he wanted this special night with you to last forever. Certain moments it really felt like your throat and pussy had came together and everything began to feel hightened.

You were sure the neighbors heard you two, the bed was most definitely moving, and your murmured moans were the soundtrack that Seunghyun could listen to all day, even wanting to sample them in upcoming music if you'd let him. His moans were quiet, but definitely there as he softly whispered things to you throughout the process.

"Fuck, Princess. You fit perfect. Like I was suppose to be the one taking care of you, of this pussy, for all my life... Such a gift."

Boy did it feel true. He fit perfect, and there was definitely never a time you did not feel all of him inside of you. One of your hands reached up, wrapping around his throat as your thumb glid across his enlarged Adam's Apple, a smirk toying on your face as his thrusts began to slow down and you could feel his vocal cords tense around you, giving a playful squeeze.

"Do your friends know you like to be choked, baby? Do they know how it makes your dick twitch? Feels so good..." Seunghyun did not respond right away, but you could feel how his body reacted to praise, somehow thrusting even deeper inside of you by the end of the comment, his hips bucking hard against yours.

"You're gonna make me cum if you do keep saying that kind of stuff. Is that what you want?"

Your hand loosened against his throat, your thumb still drawing little circles against him as you blinked innocently, your head tilting slightly so your eyes looked deep into his.

"I dare you to. And that's a threat, not a promise"

That was all the man grinding his hips into yours needed to hear before you could feel him releasing inside of you, filling you. His uneven breaths were goddamn art for your ears when you slowly felt him pull out of you, rolling to his side of the bed. His uneven breaths were still playing in your ears when you felt him nudge you, offering you a cigarette with one already in his mouth.

You happily took one, as he lit them both for you and propped himself up so he was sitting up more, his eyes never once leaving yours as Seunghyun took a single hit, smoke circling the the two of you for a moment.

"If all your romance books involve cheap thrills and rough sex I might have to start reading them myself..."

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

best friend yuuji? you’ve just rang the dinner bell

i was just thinking like.

im adding this after writing but this is soooo fucking long lmao im sorry.

tags for fem!reader (reader is referred to as a girl many times, no explicit mention of anatomy), best friends to lovers, 18+ etc

okay. i feel like you and yuuji meet in a stereotypical way

yuuji is your best friend. you met when you guys were sat next to each other in school (classic case of quiet kid and loud kid) but yuuji is uber friendly so he naturally made friends with you. you guys always clicked. in a weird way. no one else could ever fully grasp it

but you just get each other. you have similar mindsets and find each other comfortable. so you grow up and into each other - and become best friends after a long while. he comes over a lot to yap while you study and while it looks one-sided - you often take care of and look after yuuji and make sure he's not carrying too much at once.

anyway . you have a really good relationship. you're not glued at the hip but it's like, you stick together so much people often ask where the other is when one of you is missing. you get older to around middle school and puberty starts to really . hit you know.

a lot of girls confess to yuuji in that time. it's normal. sure he's rowdy and loud but he's the kind of good guy you notice when you really talk to him. fundamentally good, and not crude and shallow like other boys your age. popular but not obviously. it's the first time in your relationship you are self conscious about being his best friend and just happening to be a girl

there's rumors and stuff. you and him never talk about it until some stuff happen (like yuuji seeing it cause problems) and then you talk. the gist of it is basically that - you're yuujis best friend in the world and nothing could change that. it doesn't matter who you are. he's just trying to show you he cares

and you realize right then you are in love with him.

years go by. you get a little older. you go through highschool much like middle school - with no boyfriend. yuuji dates infrequently but usually gets broken up with. this pattern repeats into college.

(what you don't know, because yuuji never bothered to ask - is that the girls he used to date broke up with him simply because he wouldn't shut up about you. everything he should've done with a girlfriend he did with you already. he even keeps pictures)

when you get into college and grow into adulthood, you and yuuji are still extremely close. you chose to stay home and so did he - so not much is very different. except now you're meeting all sorts of new people and having new relationships form.

you don't know how exactly it comes up. you're studying for an upcoming midterm, yuuji is talking about how he got turned out by the cute girl that he works with and he pauses and asks.

"you know, i know you study hard but you should have fun too," he says this laying in your bed like he owns it, turning his head to look at you where you're bent over your desk. "haven't you thought about getting a boyfriend now that you're in college?"

you are good at brushing this off. you've been doing it for years. you do not tell yuuji that you don't date guys even after you get asked out because you're in love. you just shrug and tell him straight.

"i already told you. im not going to think about dating until i'm finished with school and i've held my career for two years."

"but aren't you bored?" yuuji asks, sincere. he doesn't press you but he is being nosy. "i don't play around that much either but i don't know. a little is healthy. and you've always working hard. playing around with handsome guys might be fun."

"not gonna change my mind."

"don't you get i dunno," he lays on his back. "sexually frustrated, though?"

you pause. you flinch. you've never talked about this before.

you clear your throat a little. "don't be inappropriate. and i do the job myself just fine."

"i guess girls don't have to worry about losing their virginity as much as guys but,"

you try to move on as swiftly as you can from talking about this in relation to yourself. "you make it sound like you slut around, yuu-chan."

he laughs a little behind you. "well no but you know. it's nice laying with another person. only if we're together though."

"yeah, sure. good for you. stop pestering me about it then and go get a girlfriend."

"so mean," he replies, laying back on his stomach. "but do you really not care at all about losing it?"

you frown, swallowing the words explaining that you do care but not just anyone will do. you give him a half truth. a lie of omission.

"it's not that i don't care but it has to be with someone i trust a lot. i don't know any guys like that, so,"

"ehh?? what about me?"

you freeze. you're sure you're mishearing it. "what about you?"

"well... you trust me right? so i could help you with it until you do find a boyfriend,"

you turn around. surely not. surely you misheard. surely he did not tell you to have sex with him so casually. you turn around to verify he's fucking with you.

only to find the most blatant sincerity you've ever seen. he's never been entirely stupid but well. he has his moments.

"do you even know what you're saying? you have to get it up for me to do that."

"well sure. but im reliable and trusrtworthy. and maybe it'll relax you a bit."

you think at that point you're definitely losing your shit but no. unfortunately your guy is dead serious. and you know, yuuji is an idiot but he's not enough of an idiot to not know it's unconventional - but in the moment, in the second he asks, his reasoning is for good. he gets a weird little feeling thinking about you losing it to someone you don't trust you know?

you obviously debate with him on this. you refute him, even - telling him that there's no way he thinks that's a good idea. and you go back and forth and you stop him at some point. to just be like

"do you even think you could kiss me?"

and yuuji just stands to his feet, leans over your desk, and kisses you.

and well. after that, it's kind of like you can't keep your hands off of each other.

it's clumsy your first time. you have no experience. but yuuji is your best friend, and he's himself - so he's patient and gentle and sooo very helpful. he teaches you to kiss and breathe through your nose and open your mouth and all sorts of other things. he's big so it's kind of hard to put it in but he takes is time. the sex feels really, really good and is intimate - almost naturally because that's your very best friend in the entire universe.

and so like. you guys have sex. you dont really plan it or anything but somehow when you get alone - it just gets so, so tense and neither of you can seem to cool down.

and how could you, you know? you've always wanted to fuck yuuji and maybe, seemingly, he wants it too. he gets so red when you bend down on your knees and try to blow him and it makes you so confident. you just... start fucking all the time. and you guys have been so close that no one cares if you two are alone together or not.

and so like. you begin this intensely sexual relationship and miraculously unchanged relationship. like you hang out as normal. and you fuck alot. and it's amibigous and vague.

you're kind of torn up about it, but yuuji is the kind of guy to not hook up with more than one person - so it's not hard to delude yourself into dating. he's already sweet and cuddly and thoughtful. and you know, you've always been so, so strict with yourself. you're really on top of your shit you know? so you reason with yourself, fine. ill just do this and see what happens. it's not like you.

(but it's hard to be strict with yourself when he makes you cum six times you know.)

so weirdly, in a weird way - you're kind of fine. you're a bit numb, a bit adjusted to it.

BUT YUUJI? OH YUUJI IS GOING THROUGH IT.

look. i mean what i said about yuuji being sincere and dense about this whole thing. he really does just want to help you and he doesn't think anything of it. sure sex is for someone you love, but yuuji does love you so it's fine to him.

the problem? the problem is you go from looking like a vague, amorphous and wonderful friend whose appearance he rarely thinks of (outside of beautiful, because of course you are - you're his best friend)

and instead become the most insanely fuckable person he has ever laid his eyes on and it is . ruining his life.

again. it's not as if yuuji ever thought you were unattractive. beauty is bigger than appearance to him, always has been - and you've always been the most beautiful girl in every room because you had a lovely character to you. he adores you. as a friend.

he never.... saw you in any other way. not even when other people kept assuming he did. you're a girl so he knew people would try to box you into that with him regardless but it was never like that. or at least, in his head it was never like that.

sure, whenever he dates someone - he is subconsciously compares them to you and sure, no matter what the person he has the most fun with is you but that's normal right? best friends is a big deal after all

you have sex for the first time and it's like. all of a sudden he's seeing all these aspects of you completely different. it's such a dramatic shift for him. like.

but it's not.... just your body really. of course not. he's not just lusting after ou but there's just something different about how you look in his eyes. something about how you readjust your sweater, how you wipe the corners of your mouth. something about the way you look at his place with shorts and a comfortable shirt just barely riding up your stomach and matching fuzzy socks (that are kinda matted from being worn)

all of this is just so, so fucking sexy now. he gets the weirdest fluttery feeling and just . can't help but be on you. you don't even know what you do to him either, and how could you? but god it destroys him. really ruins him to see you all doe eyed. know how you feel when you cling onto his biceps.

for the longest time - he can barely figure out whats doing it to him.

and then like. one day you're finished having sex and you're both so tired you fall asleep. and you're at his place - naked in his bed. he wakes up in the middle of the night. he moves the covers you know, to get up and get a towel - wipe you down.

and then you sort of hold onto him. still asleep. you let out a very soft whiny nooo, and he just. finds it so cute. so without thinking, he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead and tells you to keep sleeping which you comply with bc ur not awake anyway.

and then when he sits up again he's like. oh. shit shit shit. shit.

that's when it hits him that he's in love with you which is. troubling to say the least. not only because he feels guilty for ruining your friendship but also because he knows himself well enough to know there's no way he could hold himself back.

but he thinks about and... does he have too? he knows it won't be right away but you do this with him too. so maybe, just maybe, there's a chance right?

for what its worth, i do think you two end up together with a minimal amount of angst. but the amount of heavy ass pining...the months it goes on of you two getting insanely, unbearably intimate and then not talking about it. and like. yuuji tests the waters with you. kisses you before he leaves, and does all sorts of stuff but you always go with it. you both cover it up but eventually it all spills and i think that's mostly cause yuuji is so open ......

anyways.... best friend yuuji.... he is on my mind....

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Crossing The Line

(Art Credits @penpapernaiad on X/Twitter- https://x.com/penpapernaiad/status/1866626496410103905)

Caitlyn Kiramman X Vi Lanes 18+

Summary: After an intense race, Violet confronts Caitlyn about the end controversy which leads to both women discovering something about their relationship and finding a mutual way to take their frustrations out.

Word Count: 4.6k | Rating: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Enemies to Lovers, Realisations, Explicit Smut, F1 inspired Fic, Experienced Mercedes Racer Caitlyn/Rookie Red Bull Racer Vi, Top Vi/Bottom Caitlyn, Fingering, Dirty Talk, Brief Praise, Implied Switch but Dom Vi, Begging

A/N- This fic is inspired by the amazing F1 fanart of CaitVi on Twitter and I know absolutely nothing about F1 so apologies just in case some things are incorrect. Also, this is the first time I’ve written something that isn’t a Character X Reader so apologies if it’s a bit weird as I’m not used to not writing something that’s not second person.

---

The sound of engines warming up rumbled around the track, the drivers making their way over to their respective cars to prepare themselves for the race as the crowd cheered in excitement at what was about to happen, the past few races being some of the most competitive of the last few years as new drivers entered the scene, adding their own personal flare that livened up the sport.  

Caitlyn Kiramman, renowned champion and title holder stepped out into driver’s zone, her usual cold, composed and focussed manner on display for all to see as she strided over to where she was needed, her figure radiating dominance and authority as many paused to simply admire her professionalism. Heads turned nearly every time she walked past, the confidence in her form for everyone to admire as she stepped past the McLaren team, offering a polite nod to their technical director before continuing, her blue eyes drifting over to the next racing team, her gaze inevitably wandering to where a certain Red Bull racer was. 

To say things were tense between the world title holder and the new rookie on the block, Vi Lanes, would be a severe understatement, the two of them constantly clashing in every race as the latter’s reckless and rash driving manner was something Caitlyn was not fond of, finding the lack of consistency and accuracy to be a flaw rather than something to admire as she knew the rookies luck would have to come to an end soon. For the fans, this sudden and profound rivalry was something to rave about, the crowd already in anticipation as they saw on the screens the two drivers lock eyes from across the zone, a sudden tension filling the air as the composed, icy blue met the charming and playful glint in the Zaunite’s eyes, cheers surrounding the area as the gaze was held, neither one of the women wanting to back down. 

A smirk graced Vi’s lips as she tried to subtly provoke the blue haired woman, leaning back casually against her car as she zipped up her suit, catching the way the Piltie’s eyes flickered down to the fabric pooled around her waist, Vander, Vi’s director, telling her it was time to actually start focussing. Well, almost as the rookie still had some feathers to ruffle.

“Hey Kiramman,” Vi called out once the other woman had looked away, gaining her attention once more as she simply raised her perfect brow up in a questioning manner, her face impassive whilst she waited. “Keep your eyes on the road this time cupcake , wouldn’t want you to get distracted like last time,” she teased after having just stolen the win in the last race, taking her vibrant red helmet off the top of the car, her amused expression growing at the way she saw the subtle clench of Caitlyn’s jaw, observing how her posture tightened that little bit more as the words settled in the champion. 

“See you on the track, Lanes,” was all Caitlyn replied, keeping her response level headed and calm, doing her best to ignore the playful remark and get back to focusing on the upcoming race, wanting to wipe that smug smile off Vi’s face. 

***

Adrenaline pumped through Vi’s entire being as she kept her eyes trained on the Mercedes in front of her, following behind as close as she physically could, waiting to pounce and steal first place from whatever opening the champion would offer her. However, waiting for the perfectionist that was Caitlyn Kiramman to make a mistake was practically pointless, the woman’s consistency on every corner rather infuriating to the Zaunite as she entered the final corner of the penultimate lap a little roughly, braking later to try and gain fractions of a second on her.

“Fuck, come on Cait, give me something,” She muttered to herself, eyes sparkling with a little hope but also eagerness to find something, anything to use to try and improve her position as second wasn’t good enough for Vi anymore, she was here to prove a point. 

There was also an odd burning desire within her to beat Caitlyn, the tension that brewed between them something more, something that festered deep inside them both and made it seem all the more private and intense. 

The anticipation and excitement bubbled with every move the drivers took as they sped through the first and second corners of the final lap, a hint of unfamiliar nerves growing in the pit of Caitlyn's stomach as she spotted how close Vi was to the back of her, the feeling odd to her as she wasn’t so sure as to why the other woman managed to get under her skin so easily, something inside urging her to somehow do more to ensure she would win, the rivalry being something more personal to her than simply holding onto her infamous Kiramman legacy. 

The nerves only grew as they passed another section of the track, Jayce communicating through the radio to Caitlyn about how Vi had seemed to rather impossibly shave off a little more time, the front of the Red Bull's tyres in line with the back of the Mercedes as they sped along the straight stretch, ready to entire the final corners. 

Determination was evident in both women’s eyes but a sudden glint of light flashed in Vi’s eyes as a minute opening revealed itself to her, the red car launching into the corner recklessly as she tried to squeeze passed, the two cars nearly clipping as the Mercedes had to just about dodge the collision, gasps erupting around the track.

It was almost as though everyone was holding their breath as the two cars lined up practically side by side, both trying to get the edge on the other woman as the cars turned sharply, another rash and bold idea swiftly entering Vi’s mind as she tested the ability of the world champion on the final turn. 

Spotting the hasty move, Caitlyn responded instantly by blocking the overambitious attempt, defending her lead in a manner that had the commentators in awe as they watched the rest of the race unfold, a few protests from some at the way the Mercedes blocked the car off, finding it rather controversial at how the Red bull had to brake harshly to prevent the car smashing into the barriers.  A stream of curses and angered words spilt from Vi’s lips as she had to watch helplessly as the Kiramman sigil on the back of the leading car grew smaller in the distance, crossing the line whilst the checkered flag signalled their victory. As she claimed second place, Vi’s blue eyes followed the way the woman in front of her waved to the crowd, celebrating her win proudly, brewing something undecipherable and intense within her as she needed to find a way to express her anger, feeling as though it was an unfair end to the race, Vander attempting to soothe her and express how impressive second still was but the words fell on deaf ears, Vi’s mind focused on one thing.

This wasn’t over yet. 

***

“What the fuck was that?” Vi snapped as soon as she could find a moment with Caitlyn away from the press and media, her helmet being dropped onto the table as she followed the winner into her private lounge, wanting to confront her and find some sort of way to get rid of this strange, bottled up sensation within her. 

“Excuse me?” Caitlyn’s tone expressed her distaste for the way she was being spoken to, the door being shut by Vi as the blue haired woman crossed her arms over her chest, exuding a fierceness that seemed to only just ignite the anger Vi was experiencing as she took in how the Mercedes’ driver looked after the race, a little taken aback by how perfect and flawless she still looked.

“Oh come on, you know exactly what. You nearly sent me into the barriers, that should have been a penalty,” Vi accused, earning a simply scoff in response, an anger starting to build in the pit of Caitlyn’s stomach at the tense encounter, the way Vi stepped closer to her, her usually charming blue filled with nothing but passion and something undecipherable. The blue haired woman simply smiled in almost disbelief as she shook her head at the other woman’s antics, her hands moving to slick her hair back, feeling the sweat that had built up from under her helmet as she smoothed out her perfect locks, catching the attention of Vi as she couldn’t help but look at the way her long, slender digits moved through her hair. 

“God, you’re so predictable,” She muttered out, her head tilting in a slightly condescending manner as she took in the way the pink haired woman’s brows furrowed slightly, taken aback at what was being said. “You drive recklessly but it’s my fault you lost!” Caitlyn’s tone was laced with an underlying annoyance, as though she was irritated by the Zaunite’s driving style for another reason other than how difficult it was to race against, finding it unsafe for her but also Vi. 

“ Predictable ?” Violet’s voice was dripping with offense, her arm moving in the air slightly to exaggerate her point as she spoke, the gesture not going unnoticed as Caitlyn watched the way her arms flexed subtly through the suit, an odd heat settling at her core as she listened to the rant leaving her lips. “I am not predictable,” she huffed out, her entire style based on the principle that she was bold and unpredictable, no one knowing how to race against or challenge her, it was the sole reason Red bull took a chance on her. “And I only lost because you cut me off, we both know I had you on that corner otherwise,” she argued, taking another step closer to her as Cait’s gaze hardened, the way her ice blue eyes were staring into Vi’s soul making her heart flutter strangely, a shiver running down her spine at the way dominance just seemed to suddenly ooze off the Piltovan. 

“I was defending my lead,” She coldly replied, standing up a little straighter and reminding the two of them of the slight height difference, Vi refusing to back down as she stood before her. “It was perfectly legal and you know it, maybe you should have been keeping your ‘eyes on the road’ to notice that I was defending,” she taunted, throwing back Vi’s teasing remark back in her face, a mocking laugh falling from her lips as she chuckled out in disbelief at her words. 

“And you say I’m the one that’s predictable? I should have know that you wouldn’t never be able to believe you were actually in the wrong for once,” Vi muttered in a snarky manner, the tense eye contact seeming to affect both women as the bubbling of heat within them both grew, eyes seeming to subconsciously flicker down to each other’s lips, insatiably drawn to one another. 

“I can accept it,” Cait starts off after snapping out of the small trance of staring at the other woman’s lips, imagining the way they felt as she spotted the small scar against her top lip, her mind wandering down the wrong path as she pictured how plump they would feel against hers, her head shaking to rid the thoughts from her head as she continued, “But I wasn’t in the wrong today, that was you trying to squeeze through a gap that wasn’t there as usual!

“As usual?” Vi snapped back but before she could get another word out, Caitlyn cut her off, not wanting to hear her try and argue something that was clearly true. 

“Oh come on Violet , we all know it!” The words that leave Cait’s lips takes Vi back, the use of her full name triggering something within her, her heart beating that little bit faster as heat courses through her body, the overpowering feeling of arousal confusing her momentarily. “You try something rash and stupid and pray it pays off, I warned you when we first met that it wouldn’t pay off in this league but you didn’t listen,” underneath the irritation in the Piltovan’s tone, there was a hint of something else, Vi’s brows furrowing slightly as Cait continued, seeming to need to get this off her chest.  “You were reckless in the first race and you still are,” she sighs out, a hint of care seeping into her words making everything suddenly click into place in Vi’s mind, a tense silence wrapping around them both. 

Their eyes met once more, the two of them seeming to both realise at the same time why everything felt more intense, felt more personal and significant between them, why it was always more than just a race. The atmosphere around them grew tense as their eyes softened momentarily, searching one another as everything slowly processed in their minds, the feelings that were being uncovered and discovered, the close proximity between them more prominent as they both realised how close they actually were, and the sudden desire to cross a line. 

Naturally, Vi made the bold move to lean forwards, her hand cupping Caitlyn’s cheek as they crashed their lips together, a soft moan escaping the latter as she lost herself into the feeling of Vi’s addictive lips, gasping gently into her mouth before leaning back in for more. Both of them closed their eyes as they let themselves drown in the passion of the kiss, hands roaming each others bodies, pulling each other as close as physically possible as bottled up emotions were poured into the kiss, the anger, care and underlying love taking over them both along with lust and desire, their bodies longing and craving one another. 

Sliding her hands down the toned back of Violet, Caitlyn pulled her closer to her, letting her body be trapped between the wall and the other woman as she sighed softly into the kiss, the two of them smiling into it briefly before going back in for more, their fervent lips constantly brushing one another as their bodies felt an electric connection, arousal clouding their minds. Taking control, Caitlyn let her teeth gently bite down on Vi’s lips, earning a low groan from Violet as she felt her tongue soothe over the dull pain she caused, her tongue then sliding into her mouth as their tongues lewdly slid against each other, igniting a newfound desperation within them both as hunger took over their actions. 

Hands messily found their way to Vi’s hair, the Red Bull racer’s hands moving to the opposite woman’s hips, caressing them before letting her hands continue to explore her body, wanting to know what she enjoyed, eager to witness her reactions. The feeling of slender fingers tugging on her hair sent heat pooling between Vi’s thighs, distracting her momentarily before her lips pressed a little harder against Cait’s, moving them to pepper kisses along her jaw, taking a minute to let her thoughts make sense again, the only thing consuming her mind being the blue haired woman. 

Her lips trailed addictive, hot open-mouthed kisses along the soft and creamy skin she could, the feeling of Cait trying to take control of the situation again making her realise how she still was a little annoyed with the other women, deciding she wanted to get revenge back for just missing out on first place. 

“Vi,” she heard the other woman sigh out sinfully, the way her name fell so effortlessly from her lips, wrapped in that delicate British accent, sent waves of arousal crashing through the Zaunite but she tried her best to not let it affect her as she wanted to tease the woman melting in her arms beyond madness, to torment her and get revenge for the race. 

Pulling back from her enticing skin, Vi gazed into Caitlyn’s eyes, getting lost in the way each shade of blue was filled with desire before letting her hands travel up her body to the zip of her racing suit, asking the silent question for permission. The tender action brought a gentle smile to Caitlyn’s lips, the ice queen’s composure slowly crumbling away as she let her eyes flicker between the aroused glint in Vi’s eyes and her fingers tugging down her zipper, taking in how skilful her fingers looked and how she imagined they would feel buried deep inside her. 

Their lips met once more whilst Vi’s fingers slowly pushed the fabric off her shoulders, fingers sliding under the thick protective gear they had to wear to the thinner fabric, her strong hands gripping onto her hips, squeezing in a manner that Caitlyn found intoxicating, fogging her mind with arousal as she tried to dominate the kiss, wanting to have some sort of control as her body slowly succumbed to the other woman’s touch.

The action however simply made Vi smirk into the kiss, the smug expression accompanied by her hands drifting lower in her suit, meeting the waistband of the leggings the Mercedes’ driver wore under the suit, fingers toying with the fabric. 

“Ah, ah,” she hummed out disapprovingly when Caitlyn tried to take control, a teasing and playful tone to it as she ghosted her lips against hers, brushing them delicately before trailing the soft touches to the shell of her ear, wanting to torment the woman pinned against the wall. “You can be the perfect, composed and in control Kiramman on the track but here,” Vi rasped teasingly, teeth gently biting down on Cait’s earlobe, punctuating the end of her words with a kiss to her cheek and fingers drifting closer to the woman’s core, feeling the way her skin was burning and desperate for more, “Here I want to ruin you.” 

“Fuck,” the word escaped Caitlyn before she could stop it, her eyes fluttering open to meet the amused blue of the other woman as she pulled back briefly to engrave the site of Caitlyn Kiramman speechless before her, the glint of dominance in Violet’s eyes making Caitlyn want to squeeze her thighs together but she didn’t, not wanting to give in so easily. A challenging expression crept onto Caitlyn’s face as she lolled her head back against the wall, offering her neck for Violet to kiss down, her teeth scraping against the sensitive skin whilst her fingers slid under the waistband of Cait’s leggings, slowly travelling along her searing skin, feeling the way her muscles twitched under her touch.

“Always so confident,” Caitlyn tried to tease, but her voice betrayed her as the words spilt from her lips in a pleased, shaky sigh, her control and composure diminishing with every touch Vi offered her, her body simply craving to let someone else take control for once.

“It’s part of my charm,” Violet chuckles out against her throat, the feeling of her lips pulling up into a smirk making arousal pool between Caitlyn’s thighs, her legs spreading to welcome the other woman’s hand as she drifted over the neatly trimmed hairs there, groaning softly at how wet she already was. “And we both know you love it,” she mumbled out playfully, kissing along Caitlyn’s jaw and encouraging her to lower her head, wanting to watch her reaction to what was about to happen, needing to see the way pleasure etches its way onto her face. 

“Mhmm,” was all Caitlyn could hum back in response, biting down on her lip to muffle the moan that wanted to escape her, the way Violet’s fingers felt sliding through her folds effortlessly, gathering the abundance of arousal that was there and using it to circle her clit, making it hard to keep a hold of the last of her self control, the other woman reading the signs of her body and smirking at the attempt to stay quiet. 

A gasp left Caitlyn when Vi skilfully moved her fingers, letting her thumb circle her clit whilst one of her digits slid in easily to her dripping core, a restrained noise desperately trying to leave her lips at the amount of pleasure and heat that consumed her body. The way Violet’s free hand moved up her body to the back of her head, threading through her blue locks and tugging softly also had desire and pleasure clouding her mind, her eyes fluttering open to meet an amused pair of blue eyes gazing at her hungrily before they drifted down to her lips, admiring the way she attempted to stay composed, her fingers digging into the Red bull driver’s suit. 

“Don’t hold back,” Vi whispers before leaning in for a kiss, brushing lips tenderly as she slowly thrusted her finger into her soaking cunt, curling it beautifully against the other woman’s weak spot, her hips grinding down desperately against her hand as sparks of ecstasy shot through her. “I want to hear you scream for me Cait,” Vi further encourages, earring a slightly louder moan that blessed her ears, the sound spurring her on to keep those sinful sounds falling from her lips, needing to hear all the desperate moans, whines and whimpers that she possibly could. 

“Shit, Vi,” Caitlyn groaned out, the combination of her words and the way her fingers expertly slid into her making her body need more, addicted to the pleasure coursing through her veins, the intoxicating manner in which Violet crashed her lips to her, letting passion once again take over them both. 

“That’s it,” Vi praises, smirking into the next kiss as she feels the effect praise has on the other woman, the way her hips bucked against her hand and how she clenched around her digit signalling just how much she loved it, Caitlyn’s head dropping down to hide at Violet’s neck as she basked in the warmth her skin provided momentarily. “You’re so wet, fuck,” Vi mutters almost in disbelief to herself as she adds another finger into Caitlyn’s core, thrusting them both in a manner that had the other woman delirious with the euphoria building in the pit of her stomach, her eyes fluttering open as she looks down, watching the way Vi’s forearm moves with every skilful pump of her fingers. 

“Do that again- Shit , just like that, right there,” Caitlyn moans out, moving one of her hands to rest over Vi’s shoulder, fingers digging into the toned muscle she knew was under the suit whilst the other moved to the collar of the protective gear, grasping onto the fabric so she could pull the other woman back in for a searing kissing, the need to feel her lips against hers more important than anything else. “Don’t stop,” the words fall from her lips in a plea she was a little embarrassed by, the sheer amount of desperation lacing her words something she wasn’t used to, but part of her didn’t care as being filled up by Vi’s fingers just felt so good, her body being pushed towards that familiar edge.

“Are you close?” Vi pants out into a desperate kiss, keeping her pace steady as she felt Caitlyn’s hips buck a little harder against her hand, a sense of urgency seeping into her movements giving away just how much she needed to feel pleasure crash through her. “Yeah?” The cocky tone further aroused Caitlyn as her knuckles started to bleed white at how tight she was gripping onto the back of Vi’s suit, wanting to let her nails scratch down the tattoos littered over her back, to feel her bare skin under her fingertips. “ Beg me ,” was all Vi rasped out, chuckling softly at the hint of annoyance that instantly etched its way onto Caitlyn’s face, a reluctant look clear for Violet to see, only further amusing her as she watched the internal conflict in the blue opposite her. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn managed out, a hint of a warning tone present in her whisper of the other woman’s name, the corner of Violet’s lips tugging up into a mischievous smirk as she could tell Caitlyn’s pride was preventing her from begging desperately to let her come. 

“Beg me or I won't give you what you want,” she muttered into another lewd kiss, tongues sliding against one another before Caitlyn gasped into her mouth, Vi’s fingers brushing over her sweet spot perfectly, almost blurring her vision with pleasure and causing the Mercedes' driver to give in, simply needing to feel her body being over the edge. 

“Please,” she whined out quietly, ashamed at how submissive she sounded, at how much of an effect Violet had on her, her body begging for her touch, her lips, just her . 

“What was that?” Vi tauntingly questioned, earning a groan of frustration from Caitlyn as she  bit down on the teasing woman’s lips in protest, annoyed at how much fun she was having riling her up. “I couldn’t hear you, you need to say it louder Cait,” she teased, moving the hand that was tangled in blue hair to the woman’s chin, tilting her head to make her look into her eyes as she begged her to take mercy on her, to give her what she so desperately needed. 

“Please Violet,” she pleaded, not hiding the sheer amount of desperation in her tone as their eyes locked, sparks of arousal flooding through them both at the intimate, passionate and intense gaze, Vi unable to resist any longer, needing to see Caitlyn fall apart at her touch. 

“Come for me,” she murmured into a passionate kiss, both of them being consumed by the moment as her fingers curled at just the right spot, thumb still brushing over Caitlyn’s sensitive clit, sending her crashing into her release. “Make a mess all over my fingers,” Vi added before a string of moans spilt from the other woman’s lips like a chant,  pleasure instantly consuming Caitlyn entirely and wracking through her, body tensing and trembling in Vi’s strong arms as her release crashed through her powerfully. 

Violet took in every sigh, every soft moan that gracefully fell from Caitlyn’s lips as she rode out her high, the slight twitched from her body as euphoria and ecstasy overwhelmed her, her hips slowly coming to a stop against her hand whilst she relaxed against her comforting body, sinking into it as Vi pressed her into the wall to keep her upright, letting her recover from the exhaustion of her release and the race from earlier. Tenderly, she also brushed back the stray strands of blue from out of Caitlyn’s eyes, tucking a few behind her ear as a delicate and beautiful smile stretched across Cait’s face, the intimacy wrapping around them both greatly appreciated by both women. 

“Don’t get used to that,” Caitlyn mumbled after a moment, holding the soft gaze, letting a hint of mirth appear in her eyes for Violet to see, her smile growing that little bit wider as she raised her eyebrow expectantly, waiting for her to elaborate, “ Next time , I’ll be in charge and I’ll remind you of your place.” 

“Next time?” Chuckled out Vi, a sudden excitement growing in her at the idea of spending more time with the other woman, a small nod from Caitlyn making her smile even more. “And where is my place?” She humorously asked, sliding her hand out of the other woman’s suit, bringing her fingers that were covered in Caitlyn’s cum to her lips, groaning a little at the taste of her whilst Caitlyn watched in awe, unable to take her eyes off her lips as they wrap around her fingers. 

“Under me,” she purrs out, that usual confident and dominant demeanour returning in the Piltovan, her eyes flickering between Vi’s eyes and lips before leaning in to softly press their lips together, her arms loosely wrapping around the back of her neck as they savour the moment. 

“We’ll see about that,” Vi huffs out, her hands settling at Caitlyn’s hips as they let a comfortable silence wrap around them both tenderly, their eyes conveying the emotions they both felt whilst they held the soft and gentle look, both of them glad that they crossed a line, ready to see where this would take them. 

[moonyasnow]

Blank TWST Logos / Character Icons

Individuals + guide tips for how to use them under the cut!

EDIT: I've updated the Ignihyde one to make the triangles less pixel-y and added one based on Fellow Honest's coffin!

Please tag (@) me if you use them for a post; I really wanna see what everyone makes ^^

Just like with the blank Birthday Boy Card templates I made, I decided I wanted blank ones for these...whatever these icons are called. So I made them!

First of all!

Here's two transparent ones, so you can sandwhich your drawing layer between them without fearing messing up the frame.

I added two because not all drawing programs understand the whole 'transparency' thing with pasted images, and will make any transparent part of an image black, which would kinda ruin it

So with the white you can just remove the color. Or alternatively, since I made the frame with a pixel tool, while it might be time-consuming, you can still remove all the white by hand without messing up the frame at all

I made two for Heartslabyul, so you can either have a Card Soldier one, or just a blank one

With the details on Octavinelle and Pomefiore's, I suggest copying them, placing them to the side and covering up the holes with the background color, so you can place them wherever you'd like once you're done with your own drawing

So you don't have to work around where I placed them 👍

And if you want differently-shaped bubbles, the bubble color is the same grey as in the frame

The Scarabia one is sadly pretty empty :/ but meh, they didn't give me a lot to work with, and I wasn't gonna add something 'just because'

Bright blue one is obviously Ramshackle. I have a feeling people are gonna get a lot of use out of that one haha

And the NRC Staff ones are...a bit of a special case. They're all slightly different but it seems the general theme is:

For teachers: grey background with beige/gold pattern

For other staff(for example Crowley and Sam) gold background I just used the square as a placeholder so you can eye-drop the color in the first one. And in the 2nd and 3d I included all the colors I've seen used in the staff coffins. red and the lighter shade of beige are usually only for the actual images INSIDE the coffins though.

I also added Vargas and Crewel's ones without their individual images (for Vargas a head of some kind of animal with antlers and for Crewel a dalmatian) by comparison, kinda like a 'this is what it could look like' thing

And here's some examples of my own coffins I made for if you need inspiration

And here's ones for Noble Bell College, and one for whatever Fellow Honest's got going on too. Just because I could

I'll probably end up adding Skully too if he gets his own card one day

Anyway bye!! ^^👋

[tweedlydumbtweedlydoo]

Glasses | Spencer Reid x reader

Summary: Spencer shows up in new glasses and it awakens some new feelings for your fellow BAU agent. 

A/N: I wrote this a month ago procrastinating studying for my exam 4 on Tuesday after I saw this GIF and finally finished it tonight. so here it is - hope you enjoy! this is NOT proofread. Sorry for any mistakes.  

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

**Aye Warning: this is PG 13 - little raunchy at the end * 

You and your fellow agents sat around the round table in the conference room. A new case had come to light, JJ gathering you all before you even had time to sit down at your desk. Fresh coffee sat in front of you and just the smell brought comfort. You glanced around the table, missing one of your agents. Spencer. Usually he beat you to work every morning, reprimanding and teasing you about it. 

“If you’d drink the coffee here instead of stopping every morning on your way to work, you’d actually be on time and beat me here.” Spencer teases following you through the glass double doors. He was in his usual work attire - slacks and a button up. His hair a curly mess. His messenger bag hung over his shoulder. 

You turned around to face him, walking backwards a few steps and made a face, mocking him, “I’m not drinking that tap water you all call coffee.” You saluted your coffee cup toward him, “I will always be late for a nice, fresh cup of coffee.” 

“Where’s Spencer?” You asked, sipping on your coffee and flipping open the case file JJ tossed in front of you. 

She took a moment to glance around the room, perplexed Spencer wasn’t here yet. “I actually don’t know.” She peeked out the window overlooking the rest of the office, “Usually he beats you here.”

JJ went on with the meeting, turning on the TV screen to show pictures of the crime scene and now the next missing and possible victim. 

“Sorry I’m late-” Spencer says, out of breath as he enters the room in a rush. “I had an appointment and it ran later than expected -” He tosses his bag on the ground with a thud, sitting down and oblivious to the surprised looks from his fellow agents. 

Glasses. Spencer was wearing glasses. Your jaw dropped at this new sight, the pen you were chewing on, hanging against your lips. You wouldn’t disagree, Spencer Reid was a very attractive man. I mean you’d admitted that multiple times, but he was also your coworker. A relationship with a coworker could create a rocky atmosphere for the BAU.

He always been an eye candy to look at, however, this new look tossed you over the edge, changing something inside you. You needed him. His touch, his lips against yours. You were overwhelmed with such affection and adoration. Where was this coming from? Immediately your mind went dirty, your face flushed with embarrassment at having those thoughts, scared someone else could hear them. 

Spencer met your eyes from across the table, a new twinkle in his eye, “What did I miss?” He’d noticed the effect he had on you, he could read you like a book. 

You couldn’t even look him the eye. God what was this man doing to you. A wave of warmth was felt through your body; spreading to your core as new fantasies come to light. A dark mahogany desk... Spencer in a button up, loosening the tie around his neck. Oh god. You sat up quickly as if you were just touched by a hot poker and composed yourself, “JJ was just telling us about the last victims who were found-” Your eyes pleadingly glanced at JJ and the screen behind her. 

“Right anyways-” 

~ 

Everyone had settled into their seats on the jet and you stood, slipping behind the curtain to grab a water bottle from the mini fridge. When you stood back up, you were met with Spencer’s chest, “Shit--Spencer.” 

“Did I scare you?” He smiles in triumph, “You’re so jumpy.” He tilted his head as he observed the change in you. 

You stepped out of the way as Spencer reached for mini fridge, fumbling for an excuse. “Watched a scary movie last night.” 

He hums in response turning to face you, the small countertop digging into your back as you tried to put enough space between you and Spencer. “Which movie?” He glances back over his shoulder, checking the curtain is closed. 

You glanced around him as well, wondering what he was looking for, but finally meeting his eyes, “oh you know.. I think it was scream?” 

He closes the space between the two of you, slipping his hands behind you and  placing them firmly on the countertop behind you. 

“Spencer!” A quiet gasp escaped your lips as his body pressed against yours. 

“Shhh...” He places his index against your lips as he leans in close, the smell of his aftershave and minty breath hitting you in a wave. His breath is hot against your neck as his lips dance along your neck. 

Your entire body submits to his touch. oh god. 

“Wouldn’t want them to know what we’ve been up to these last couple months, now would we?” 

Comments, likes and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! x 

This tag list is an old one. 

Criminal Minds tag list: @thelovelydreamer17​ , @la-vie-en-amour1 , @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 , @astra-inclinant-sed-non-obligant (possibly: @astra-x-inclinant)  , @bluerose512 , @lolychu​ , @varsityalthete

All my works tag list:  @blossomreed​ , @mggstyles  , @simonsbluee​ , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe , @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen​ , @reniescarlett​

[kiwriteswords]

Sweet Comic Valentine [Aaron Hotchner x Best Friend!Reader]

Ki2k Masterlist||MainMasterlist (not updated, sorry!)|| Ao3||Word Count: 600|| AN: a lil v-day fluffy friends-to-lovers ficlet for my ki2k Fluff day! Requests are still open for Ki2k!!

Tags/Warnings: female reader, Valentine's Day, friends-to-lovers, fluff, no use of y/n, bau!reader

Summary: Why spend Valentine's alone when you could spend it with your boss, who is halfway in love with you?

The bullpen at Quantico was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that only a holiday like Valentine's Day could bring.

Desks were empty, computers slept, and the usual hustle of agents seemed like a distant memory. Only the soft hum of the fluorescent lights filled the air as you sat at your desk, drowning in paperwork that didn't know it was a day for lovers.

You had always been close to Hotch, your boss and, somehow, your closest friend within the rigid walls of the FBI.

The two of you had mastered the art of dancing around each other's emotions, a choreography too complex to disturb with confessions or truths that might disrupt the balance you had so carefully maintained.

But the truth was there, simmering beneath every shared glance, every half-smile in the hallway--both of you harbored feelings deeper than the façade of friendship you presented.

He was meticulous, always two steps ahead in every case, yet you could almost read his mind when it came to his next move. And he…well, he seemed to hear your thoughts before they ever made it to your lips. This silent understanding had become your unspoken language, comfortable and familiar.

As the clock ticked closer to the end of a seemingly endless day, you were resigned to spend another Valentine's Day alone, surrounded by cold cases rather than the warmth of a romantic dinner. That was until you heard his steady footsteps approaching your desk, an uncommon sound in the stillness of the evening.

"Hey," Hotch started, his voice breaking through the quiet like a soft but unexpected melody. He stood by your desk, hands in his pockets, looking uncharacteristically hesitant. "I was thinking, instead of both of us spending tonight here, buried under all this," he gestured vaguely to the mountains of paper on your desk, then to his own, "maybe we could go grab dinner?”

As Hotch's invitation to dinner hung in the air, you couldn't help but let out a scoff, eyebrows raised in disbelief. "You do know what day it is, right?" you asked, half-amused, half-serious.

His response came with a hint of amusement, as if he was in on a joke you hadn't heard yet. "Yes, I'm aware it's February 14th," he said, the corners of his lips tugging upward slightly.

"Yeah, Valentine's Day," you pressed on, folding your arms over your chest, "which means any place worth its salt is booked solid. Finding a reservation now would be impossible."

Hotch's smile broadened, clearly pleased with himself. "I know what day it is," he repeated, "which is exactly why I made a reservation weeks ago."

Your confusion was evident as you processed his words. This seemed a little over the top for just two friends grabbing dinner. "What if I had a date tonight?" you asked playfully, challenging him. "You just assumed I’d be free?"

He looked back at you, his amusement clear. "Given that we've spent the last few Valentine's Days in the same way--working late, alone--I figured it was a safe bet. Besides," he added, his tone teasing yet gentle, "I wouldn’t take up your evening without making sure you had a memorable dinner to look forward to."

There was a warmth in his voice that made it hard to stay mock-offended. Hotch had always been thoughtful, but tonight, it seemed there was something more tender, more deliberate in his planning. It was hard to keep up the pretense of casual banter when it felt like there might be layers to his actions, yet unexplored.

"Alright, Hotch," you conceded, shaking your head with a light laugh, both at his foresight and your own unexpected excitement. "Dinner it is. Lead the way." You reached for your jacket, closing your laptop shut. 

As he turned towards the elevator, you followed, a curious flutter in your stomach. Maybe, just maybe, this Valentine’s Day wouldn’t be like the others after all. And perhaps this dinner could turn the page to a new chapter for both of you--one that neither of you had dared to read out loud yet.

[her-satanic-wiles]

Guess Who?

Papa Emeriti I, II, III & Cardinal Copia x Plus Size!Reader

Game night takes a turn when you end up blindfolded and tied on the table, at the mercy of all of your beloved Papas. The name of the game: figure out who’s touching you. You win: you cum. They win: they use your body however they see fit.

For @da-rulah, because I sent her a scenario that hurt her wittle feewings, and so now I’m facing the consequences of my actions. I hope you enjoy, Bee. ✌🏻😘

Masterlist

Words: 9.2k.

Reading Time: 37 min.

Warnings: aftercare, alluded/implied sex work, anal play, biting, bondage (using a rope), breath play, breeding, bukkake, choking, cream pie, cum eating, cunnilingus, degradation, fellatio, fingering, finger sucking, free use, gang bang, groping, MMFMM, objectification, plus size!reader, PIV sex, praise, premature ejaculation, pussy slapping, rope play, rough sex, running a train, sensory depravation (blindfold), skull fucking, spit-roasting, squirting, tag teaming, talking about you as if you weren’t there, tickle kink (if you squint), unprotected sex, (wrap it before you tap it folks), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex,

Taglist: @da-rulah @teenage-birt-dag @akayuki56 @xshadyladyx @x1nd1g0x @likeloversentwined @high-above-the-city @copiaspet622 @sister-of-sin-claudia @foxybouquet @inkstainedrat @ad-astra-per-aspera1976 @ravensbars @ultrahalloweengirl @susulbr @frog-scream @ghulehunknown @namelessghoulindisguise @onlyhereforghost @mercbeans

🔞 MDNI 🔞

Game night was usually a night reserved for only the brothers Emeritus, who usually enjoyed card games with only the three players. Every week without fail, the three men would gather in the wine cellar of the Ministry and play cutthroat games of Uno while drinking bottles of the Ministry’s finest by candlelight. It wasn’t often they’d invite a fourth in, rarely finding a person close enough to all three of them that they’d be able to relax and have fun with. But it wasn’t unheard of. Which is why the decision was unanimous when your name was thrown into the middle.

You were the favourite of all the Papas and the whole Ministry knew it. You were their closest friend and companion, the one who had the most in common with them and compassion for them. The one who made them feel the best both in and out of the bedroom. Yes, okay, the relationship you had with them all was… unique. It wasn’t often in any part of the world that brothers would share a woman and be happy doing so. But if it worked for all of you, you’d hardly say no. There was something so deliciously degrading about being passed around the Ministry’s highest ranking men like a commodity to be shared - as though you were nothing more than an object. It was so delicious because it wasn’t true. Of all the people you’d been with during your time at the Ministry, no one had treated you more kindly, more respectfully, and prioritised your pleasure quite like the Emeritus brothers. And so, almost every evening, you’d find yourself ‘rented’ for the night, and would end up tangled in the sheets with one of the Papas. And every time you needed to perform a ritual, it was always to one of them you’d call.

They’d tried getting you in on game night a few times before, but it just so happened that you were usually busy and had made plans before they’d been able to ask. How popular could one person be?

It turned out you didn’t have so many friends that they all kept you busy, rather you had one friend who took up most of your time away from the three Papas: Cardinal Copia. The Cardinal had inadvertently kept you all to himself mostly because you were his closest friend. Copia was the kind of man to put all his effort into one relationship rather than several, which meant you were the only one of his friends he wanted to spend time with. As that was the case, he had taken up so much of your free time, he made it impossible for the Papas to pin you down and drag you to game night. So, they dragged the bumbling Cardinal to game night, too.

The five of you were hunched round an aged table, the thing losing its integrity from the little upkeep that was done to it over the years. The layers of stain and paint gave it a more plastic feel, and one of the legs was propped up with the King James’ Bible, the book itself dirty from years of shoes resting on it. Clockwise, Primo headed the table, followed by Copia, You, Terzo and ending with Secondo. You only had two cards left, and felt smug at that. The closest person to you was Secondo, who had 3 cards. Everyone else was five cards or, in Copia’s case, much more. The typical banter and shit-talk ensued, you teasing Terzo about how you were going to win, Primo constantly pulling the cheapest moves like adding +2 cards or reversing so that Copia would have to draw more or wouldn’t get to play. Copia promising violent vengeance every time Primo screwed him over, which would earn titters of amusement from Secondo and Terzo.

Finally, Terzo had played his card allowing you to drop your penultimate one on top of his, your red 4 landing on his blue 4, with a cheery “Uno!” falling from your lips, despite Primo and Copia’s conversation that was murmuring in the background.

Secondo sighed and rolled his eyes. “Cardinale!” He called, breaking up the conversation. “It is your turn.”

“___ hasn’t had her turn yet.” Copia protested.

“She just did.”

Primo smirked, a devilish smile on his lips. “Our dear ___ didn’t claim ‘Uno!’. You have to take five cards.”

“I did!” You exclaimed, offended at Papa Primo’s accusations. You told him as such.

“I didn’t hear you.” Copia claimed.

“To be fair, Cardinale, you were talking.” Secondo insisted, fighting your corner.

Terzo sighed, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “There is nothing for it, amore.” He exclaimed. “Two insist you did not say it, two insist you did. Therefore, you must be punished some way, no? Either, take five cards like my fratello told you to do, or…”

“…Or?” You asked impatiently, bracing yourself for Terzo’s ultimatum. You knew it would be a suggestive offer, but you didn’t know exactly what he’d choose.

“Or, you take off that pretty little habit of yours and play the rest of the game in your underwear.”

Secondo jumped in. “___, you don’t have to do either.”

Primo, who secretly hoped you’d choose Terzo’s second option, also chimed in. “Well, you do have to take five cards if you don’t get naked for us.”

“Papa?” Copia asked, eyebrows raised. He clearly wasn’t expecting Primo to go along with it.

“What? You cannot expect an old man to be completely adverse to a beautiful woman stripping herself bare for my enjoyment - provided she consents, of course.”

Terzo, “If anyone objects, speak now or forever hold thy peace.”

Everyone immediately shot subtle glances at Copia, expecting the only man in the room who you’d not fucked yet to object. But, with blushing cheeks, he sat back and much to everyone’s surprise, remained quiet.

You slammed your card on the table and stood from your seat, hands immediately flying to and removing your veil. “This is bullshit.” You said, undoing the buttons at the front of your habit before pulling the whole thing over your head. You were met with sounds of appreciation, whistles, hoots and hollers - most of which came from Terzo who was more than happy to watch you reveal your gorgeous, plump body in order to win the game. You sat back down, breasts and stomach jiggling with the force, thighs splaying out against the chair as you sat. You watched as Secondo was mesmerised by your curves. He said nothing, wanting to keep things with you as respectful as possible, but he loved your body: loved watching it bounce each time he fucked into you, loved laving and sucking on your nipples, biting them just to earn that sound from your throat. It didn’t matter that he was a middle aged man with the total ability to control himself, when it came to you, he was a constant horny mess.

The game continued, Copia had his turn, Primo, Secondo, Terzo, then back to you. Finally, and with much grumbling from the rest of them, you played the final card and won the match. “And I did it all whilst in my undies.” You bragged. “This is why you never invite me to these nights - you know I’ll kick your ass.”

“We don’t always play Uno, you know.” Primo stated, resting his elbows on the table.

“Doesn’t matter, any game you throw my way I’ll win.” You responded petulantly.

“Oh you think?” Terzo asked, eyebrows raising.

“I know.”

“Prove it.” Secondo sounded from the other side of the table.

“Name the game, Papa.”

“What did you have in mind, fratello?” Questioned Terzo again.

Secondo sat back, his body language oozing confidence with a menacing glint in his eyes. “A game even our friend over there can play if he’s willing.” He gestured to Copia, who swallowed nervously. “We got some rope down here, some cloth. We strip you completely naked, blindfold you, and touch you however we want. You have to guess who it is. You guess correctly, we make you cum then move to the back of the line. Guess incorrectly, and we get to do what we want to you. You have to guess the majority correctly in order to win, if you don’t, well, we’ll decide what happens to you. Think you could win then?”

“Easy.” You challenged.

“Oh, you think so?”

You stood up. “Copia, you in?”

“I- I…” He stammered, torn between wanting to play but not wanting to ruin your friendship.

“Whatever you choose, I’m happy.”

“I… I’ll play.”

Primo patted him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

“Well then,” you reached round your back and unhooked your bra, throwing the fabric to the stone cold floor and feeling your nipples harden at both your arousal and the change in temperature, “let’s play.” Your panties were the next to go, followed by your shoes and socks, leaving you stood on the wine cellar’s floor naked as the day you were born. With each move you made, your body jiggled slightly, earning more groans of appreciation from the men who remained. Terzo even coming up behind you and pressing himself against you, hands roaming all over your body and grabbing handfuls of you where he could.

“Can’t wait for you to guess incorrectly so I can fuck you dumb, tesoro.” He whispered into your ear before biting it.

“Leave you with blue balls.” You teased.

“We’ll see.” He stepped away from you and gave your ass a slap, watching it wobble with the force. He bit his bottom lip and moaned like he’d just eaten something delicious. “We will see.”

Secondo had gone and returned from getting the rope and cloth he saw, and began to bind you up in it, using the rope to tie your hands behind your back. “Your safe word is ‘bottle’, amore.” He told you placing a chaste but gentle kiss on your shoulder blade. “Does this feel okay?” He asked pulling on the rope.

“It feels fine, Papa.” You replied, feeling heat gather in your core and your breath already labouring.

“You ready for the blindfold?”

“Yes.”

And with that, your vision was blinded, your sense of sight plunged into darkness as Secondo tied the cloth gently behind your head, checking to make sure you were comfortable, before guiding you into position. You were lay against the small table, your head barely supported, with most of it hanging over the edge. You were lay on your back with your legs spread, your hands taking the weight of your back as it arched over the top of them. Your breasts had, for lack of a better term, pancaked as gravity was inistent on pulling them down. But even though Terxo made fun of that term, he loved the way you looked on your back for him. Your cunt was entirely on display with just how wide your spread legs had opened your labia, your wetness already visible to the men who stared at your body hungrily, like animals about to feed for the first time in weeks.

You felt Secondo kiss your thigh once before disappearing to join his brothers. Then, you heard all four of the men, in unison, say, “Carta, forbice, sasso!” Followed by skin slapping on skin.

Those fucking idiots were playing rock, paper, scissors to see who was going to go first. You heard a few grumbles, but couldn’t make out who made what noise.

You heard footsteps.

The sound of a glove sliding against skin. Twice.

Those gloves falling to the floor.

Then you felt it. A thumb running up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before finally rubbing over your clit - tight, little circles designed to drive you mad. Your hips bucked at the touch, a gasp escaping your lips at the surprise touch. His four fingers rested on your mound as an anchor, allowing more precise movements, and for him to put more pressure on your clit. You struggled against the rope, your hands moving out of habit wanting to reach your nipples, to pinch and pull at the buds like you usually did when someone played with your bundle of nerves. But the rope bit at your skin, burning slightly as you fought against it and making you scream out in frustration. “Fuck!” You breathed, body writhing beneath the calloused thumb. You wanted to try an work out who was doing it to you so you could win the game, but your mind went blank the second his thumb touched you.

The teasing was very much a Terzo trait, but the use of his thumb wasn’t. Terzo usually teased using his mouth or his cock. He didn’t have the drive to use one of his hands. Secondo used his hands a lot, loved to plunge them deep inside you and finger you open for him, having you screaming and begging for him to touch your clit. Which is how you knew this wasn’t Secondo. It couldn’t be Primo - he didn’t have the heart to tease. He’d always give you what you asked for in a heartbeat. Which meant it must have either been Terzo or Copia. As you’d never had sex with Copia, you couldn’t be sure what his methods were - and this touch did feel foreign. “Is it… is it Copia?”

You heard laughter from the other side of the room, followed by a “Dammit!” from Copia. “It’s me.” Copia pulled up one of the chairs and situated himself between your legs, getting himself ready for the task of making you cum. You felt his hot breath against your centre, erratic little puffs that hit your wet skin as he breathed through his nervousness. He took his time with you, almost as if he was psyching himself up. Copia had fucked before, and he was good at it. But he’d never fucked you. You could imagine that he was nervous because he wanted you to think he was good. And, if you had use of your hands, you’d tangle them in his brown hair and stroke his head gently, reassuringly. But instead, all you had were your little grunts of desperation to softly urge him on.

His moustache was the next thing you felt, tickling against your folds as his mouth made contact with you. The course hairs ran against your sensitivity as his tongue darted out to lap up the juices that were spilling from you. You could feel your hole clenching around nothing, screaming for something to fill it while Copia toyed with your clit, but he made no move to fill you, instead putting more pressure on you with his tongue as he continued to move up and down your slit, until finally he made permanent contact with your clit.

He tightened his tongue to make the tip more pointed to get a precise lick to your clit, swirling around it with his muscle and causing you to cry out in response, fighting against your restraints. His hot breath kept coming out from his nose, heightening your senses and making you hyper aware of just how much of a mess you were as tit hit the wetness seeping from you and making you feel cold. Your nipples were so hard and needing someone to play with them while Copia continued to drink you down like he was dehydrated.

He alternated between using his tongue only and pressing filthy kisses to your folds, practically making out with your cunt to get you off quicker. You could hear the sound of his lips smacking against your body, in between the broad strokes of his tongue he was providing for you. Tiny grunts would escape his lips as he ate you alive, treating you like the most delicious meal he’d ever eaten. His fingertips dug into the flesh of your thighs, keeping you held down as much as he could so he could devour you easily. You could feel your high coming faster than you’d anticipated, or even wanted, but he was working you towards that end so fucking well, you were losing your breath and your mind.

“Copia, fuck!” You screeched, breathlessly. Your nails were scratching against the wood of the table, feeling the gross stickiness from the drinks’ condensation underneath your body, but feeling more filthy and used than disgusted. Your brain reminded you that you weren’t alone, that there were three other men watching this go on with just as much pleasure as you. You wondered if they were touching themselves. If they were watching you writhe with pleasure and stroking their cocks at the sight.

Copia’s lips wrapped entirely around your clit, moustache now soaked from your cunt, and he sucked. Hard. That tongue he used so precisely before was now slapping against your clit again, this time much faster than before. Because of this, the surprise change in pace and pressure, your orgasm hit you so violently, every single one of your nerve endings exploded beneath his touch, and set off a chain reaction around the rest of your body. Your muscles tensed, your breath was snatched from your lungs, your eyes (beneath the blindfold) closed even tighter, and your mouth had hung open in a perfect ‘o’, allowing a strangled moan to leave from your tightened throat that had closed in the strain of your orgasm. All the while, Copia refused to let up, keeping the pressure going even when you were trying to kick him away. He didn’t stop until he was sure your orgasm had subsided. He pressed one final kiss to your clit before he stood up and walked away, leaving you alone and spent on the table, recovering from one of the best orgasms of your life.

“Did that feel good, tesoro?” You head Terzo ask from the other side of the room. No one had approached you yet, meaning you couldn’t gauge whether Terzo was next or not.

Your brain was still scrambled, and you were barely able to manage a “uh-huh,” to respond to him, which earned a chuckle from all four of the men in the corner.

When the laughter died down, you heard more footsteps approaching you, stopping this time at the right side of you. You felt the silk of a robe glide over your bear skin, but as all of the Papa’s robes were made from the same material, you could only rule out Copia at that point.

You jumped in surprise at the feeling of four fingers immediately touching your stomach, rubbing two large, soft circles into the skin just to tease you. Those four fingers broke off as his hands went in two separate directions. The first moved upwards, running up over the mound of your breast, stopping to play with your right nipple - pinching and pulling at the bud just as you liked, and had needed for the past however long they’d been playing with you. The second hand moved downwards, mimicking the actions of the first by pinching and pulling, except this time it was on your clit. He wasn’t as rough with your clit as he was your nipple, given that your were still probably sensitive from your orgasm, but the torture was too fun even if you were suffering a little.

Those fingers that were playing with your cunt slipped inside your hole, immediately curving upwards and hitting that sweet spot that had you singing so beautifully for them. You only had the opportunity to cry out once before you felt the hand on your breast reach up to your neck, and squeeze the sides gently. His fingers were rough, working to hit your g-spot over and over again and make you squirm at his touch, and you felt your body shake with the force of it. The way he was using his hands against you, plus the roughness of them and the pit stop at your breasts made you confident enough to make your second guess.

“S-Secondo?”

Your stomach and heart sank when you heard dark laughter coming from the guys in the corner of the room. Secondo’s gruff voice sounded from far away, loudly speaking over the sound of your wetness squelching as the fingers inside you kept up their pace. “Wrong, amore.” He said, all too happily for you to be comfortable.

You smelled wine and sandalwood when the man leaned down so his mouth was level with your ear. “You’re mine now, tesoro.” Terzo claimed, his voice dark and heavily accented. His words were stretched telling you he was smiling as he spoke, unable to form them correctly. He revelled in the deception, removing his hands from your body and bringing his fingers up to your lips. “Open up for me.” He commanded, and once you obeyed, he put his middle and ring fingers covered in your cunt juices into your mouth. “Clean yourself up. Suck on them like you do my cock.”

You took those fingers into your mouth beautifully, putting on a show for him in hopes that he’d go easy on your body when he took what he wanted from you. A gutteral groan sounded from his mouth as he watched your lips stretch around his thick fingers, tongue grazing along the underside as you cleaned yourself from his digits. You bobbed your head fluidly, like you usually did when you took him in your throat, moaning around him and rubbing your thighs together. He always liked to know he had an affect on you - maybe appeasing his ego would help you out.

He removed his hand from your mouth and you heard him walk to your feet. His hands pried themselves in between your thighs to show your cunt to him like a piece of meat being inspected by a customer. You waited with baited breath as he decided what to do with you, no doubt in your mind that he was staring at your wetness with that glint in his eyes: the one that shows his excitement but could be mistaken for sadism if you didn’t know him. Or maybe they were the same thing. You felt his fingertips trace up and down the inside of your left thigh, before that hand disappeared. With the other on your right ankle keeping your legs spread and the other one missing, you could feel anticipation pool in your stomach.

SLAP.

His hand had come down hard on your cunt, fingers colliding brutally with your sensitive clit and stinging at the connection. You screamed out, body jerking with the attempt to slither away and close your thighs, but Terzo had already got himself between your legs, and there was nothing you could do but take it.

SLAP.

“Terzo!” You screamed, feeling your sensitivity dial up several notches with the second slap.

“Do you need to use your safe word, tesoro?” He asked.

“No.”

“Brava.”

SLAP.

“Want you nice and red for me when I fuck you dumb, tesoro. I told you that earlier.” This time, he rubbed his thick fingers over your clit, soothing the wound he was inflicting. “You’re already dripping enough. I could just slide in now, couldn’t I?”

“Yes, Papa!”

You felt his arms wrap around your thick thighs and pull you towards the edge of the table. The rustle of his fabrics reached your ears telling you he was getting his cock out ready for you. Then you felt it: his heavy girth rubbing up and down your folds in typical Terzo fashion, the head rubbing against your cunt, encased comfortably by your lips. Every now and again, the tip would catch against your opening, and you held you breath for the push in that wouldn’t come until you least expected it. But when he did finally push inside you, your mouth fell open at the stretch. You were so sad you couldn’t watch his face, the look of it as he bottomed out on you always had you tightening around him. You were desperate to see his face crumpled up, showing you he loved being inside you.

“So fucking tight, tesoro.” He commented as soon as he was fully inside. You felt the crown nestle against your cervix, teasing you, reminding you that he was about to ruin you in all the best ways. He left you waiting for his true torture to begin, as you vaguely remembered that the only one who’d be cumming now was him.

He pulled out so his tip was almost entirely out of you, and then slammed back into you. The room echoed with the sound of the table scraping across the floor with the force of it. That sound, combined with your screams and whines, created the perfect symphony to Terzo’s onslaught.

Terzo always knew how to play you like a fiddle, pushing all of your buttons to have you walking beside the Gods. Today was no exception. Your legs had been extended to rest on his chest and over his shoulder, his arms wrapped around your thick thighs for leverage as he thrust all the way into you.

Terzo fucked you like he paid for you, his cock pistoning in and out of your dripping cunt as quickly as he could move, taking only his pleasure from your body. You were lucky with all of your lovers, they were all giving and had just as much fun making you cum as they had doing the same for themselves. But sometimes, when you’d behaved in such a way to earn a punishment, you’d see all three of them be incredibly selfish and just take. Letting them use you like that, given the stark juxtaposition of their regular behaviour, always had you dripping for them, enjoying being nothing more than a living toy - a warm hole to sink into.

You clenched around Terzo’s cock as he fucked you - used you - for his own enjoyment. And, over the sounds you and your body were making, you heard Terzo’s rough voice. “Come here!” He said to someone else in the room. You heard footsteps that stopped beside Terzo. “Wrap your hand around her throat.”

The person obliged, their footsteps ending up by your head and then dropping their hand to your exposed neck. Terzo already had your body bouncing against him, ricocheting against his thrusts every time. The hand, because of this, had a little trouble grabbing onto your body, but eventually he managed it. His fingers and thumb rested against your esophagus and squeezed inwards, not restricting your airflow completely, but just enough to have you feeling the effects. Your mind had almost entirely melted, thinking of nothing other than Terzo’s cock pounding away inside you, hearing your own desperate whimpers as the hand around your pretty little neck heightened your pleasure and sensitivity.

“Who is it, tesoro?” Terzo asked, breathlessly. “Whose hand is that around your pretty little neck?”

The hand loosened enough to allow you to concentrate fully, but still rested on you to remind you of its presence. You had no idea. Not a single thought floated in your head. “Nuh!” You grunted with a particularly rough thrust. You had to guess someone. “P-Primo?”

You heard laughter, then Terzo’s voice cut through your brain. He made the sound of a buzzer, the kind of noise you hear when you get a question wrong. “Fuck her throat, Copia.”

“Fuck!” You exclaimed in irritation, kicking your feet against Terzo’s shoulder, gently.

More laughter sounded.

“Is that okay, ___?” Copia asked.

“Of course.” You replied. He obviously wanted verbal consent, so you gave him just that, hearing him walk towards the crown of your head and adjust himself so his cock was completely free. You were maneuvered so that your head hung off the edge of the table, allowing a completely flat throat, and letting the Cardinal slide into your open mouth easily.

He hissed at the feeling of your tight, wet throat engulfing him with no trouble, thanks to the position you’d been put in. Copia tried to be kind to you, thrusting softly down your throat, and pulling out often to give you some breathing time. But you began to notice that the longer he spent inside you, the more he forgot his manners, and would spend more time fucking you between the breaths he gave you. This would make you clench tighter around Terzo’s cock, in part because your body was reacting to the loss of oxygen, but mostly because the feeling of being so thoroughly used had your mind swimming. Your body loved being degraded - reduced to nothing more than a set of holes to be used at any given time. Besides, you felt like Satanic Tinkerbell - you thrived under as much attention as you could possibly get, and felt like you’d die without it.

“Cazzo!” You heard Terzo grunt. His movements grew more and more erratic the closer he got to cumming. “Look at her throat.”

“Don’t.” Copia hissed again. “If I look, I’ll cum.”

“I can see the outline of his cock down your throat, tesoro. Every time he fucks inside you, I see it.”

You whined around Copia’s cock which spurred him to thrust forward a little more violently than he meant to. He wrapped his hand back around your throat and squeezed, crying out at how much tighter you got. “Oh merda! Oh cazzo!” Copia screeched. And, with no warning and just a strangled grunt, you felt Copia thrust into you one final time before he emptied himself into your throat, hands still wrapped around your throat, but with no pressure to them. He poured so much of himself into you, his body overreacting to his first time inside you. You heard Copia’s disappointed sigh as pulled out leaving you to swallow his load with a slight ache in your throat. You felt a string of your saliva spill onto your cheek, only to get the cloth covering your eyes damp where it settled and got soaked up. pulled out of you, “Wanted to last longer.” Copia commented.

“She tends to have that effect on people.” You heard Primo say. You remembered the first time Primo fucked you, too, and how he also didn’t last as long as he wanted… in fact, it was the same for all of them. You couldn’t help the sense of pride that washed over you reminiscing over that fact. “You gotta build up stamina to enjoy her completely.”

You tightened. Out of all of them, Primo was the kindest towards you - so to hear him talk about you as if you weren’t human did something to you that you should feel ashamed about. But instead it only made you wetter.

“Merda!” Terzo groaned. “Gonna fucking cum into this slutty cunt. You want that, tesoro?”

“I want it!” You begged, breathlessly.

“How much?”

“I w-want you to fill me up so-oh bad, Papa! Fuck. Want y-you to fill me up and…” You cut yourself off, remembering that there were others present.

Terzo spanked your thigh and dropped his voice down to a quiet, husky plea. “Fucking say it. I dare you. Finish that fucking sentence.”

“Want y-you to fill me up and fuck a baby into me. Show everyone who I belong to.”

“You fucking whore!” Terzo exclaimed appreciatively. “Sathanas!” And that was all the warning you got before Terzo also emptied himself into you, cock twitching in over sensitivity as rope after rope shot into your cunt, his fingers digging into your plump calves as he tried to keep himself grounded. His knees were buckling at the force, and you felt his whole body tremble as it fought to keep him upright.

When his orgasm subsided, Terzo pulled out of you, a grunt coupling his unceremonious actions. He gently returned your legs to the table, trying to make sure that you were safe and comfortable again, before fiddling with his clothes. You assumed he’d turned to walk away, which is when you heard Secondo’s voice.

“Nuh-uh!” He scolded, clicking his fingers. You’d seen him scold Terzo before, there was no doubt in your mind that the click was followed by Secondo pointing to the problem. “Clean up your mess before someone else gets in there.”

You imagined Terzo rolling his eyes like a petulant teenager. He pulled up a chair, sat on it, and buried his face in your folds without warning. His tongue delved as deep as it would go, licking his own cum out from your cunt. Where his tongue wouldn’t reach, his fingers did, and every drop of himself was gulped down with attitude. He didn’t care a button for your pleasure this time, purely being down there just to clean you out to be used again. When he had finished, he patted your thigh twice and left you waiting and wanting for the next person.

“Wait,” you said quickly hearing all movement in the room stop, “if I keep my hands to myself, can you untie me? It’s starting to hurt.” The rope was burning against your skin now to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore. And, given that both of your arms were tied behind your back and you were laying on them, your arms felt dead and your back had begun to ache.

“Of course.” Terzo replied without thinking. He turned on his heels and rushed back to the table, his hands on your shoulders. “Sit up for me, tesoro.” He ordered, his voice much more kindly than it had been before. He helped you to sit upright. “That’s it - brava ragazza.” You felt his deft hands working at the rope Secondo had tied, making short work of it given that it was tied well. Once your wrists were free and the rope had been discarded, you felt Terzo’s gentle touch on your wrists, no doubt a little red from the irritation. “Ah, my poor amore.” He pressed his lips to them. “Battle scars, no?”

“So dramatic.” Secondo muttered from the other side of the room.

“I have some hand cream,” Primo said walking towards you, “it’ll be good enough until you get to one of our rooms and can be taken care of properly.”

“Thank you, Papa.” You replied, a soft smile on your face.

You felt Primo and Terzo rub the hand cream into your wrists, their fingers working to moisturise the skin and help repair it as quickly as possible. Primo always kept stuff like this in his pockets - hard boiled sweets included. He was such a grandpa sometimes it made you laugh. Prepared for an apocalypse - you’d tell him that every time he pulled something out of his bag or pocket that would help.

Once they’d finished, Terzo pressed a kiss to your hand and walked away, while Primo rested his hand on the side of your neck, his thumb caressing your cheek as he pulled you in for a sweet kiss, the kind of kiss that had you sighing and leaning into his touch. “You’re doing so good for us, fiorellina.” He praised. “Just a little longer.”

Primo left you alone and everyone watched as you lay back down for them, body splaying out against the wood. Your hands went to the edges of the table, clutching on to try and stop you from grasping onto the next man who took his place between your legs.

Terzo’s voice sounded from across the room. “You have to get this next one correct, tesoro. Or we win.”

“I will. Of course I will, are we kidding?” You responded, determination in your voice.

The room was silent while the next man moved towards you - his footsteps slow and deliberate. His warm breath fanned out over your body, before finally you felt his tongue lave over your body: it ran all over your stomach, your thighs, back up to your breasts where he licked and sucked on your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, your hips bucking upwards as his mouth brought you so much pleasure. You had to resist the urge to clutch onto his head as you usually did whenever someone ran their tongue over your nipples. But that was when you felt it: a second tongue mimicking the patterns on your nipple and replicating it on your clit, pulling another moan from your mouth.

It was obvious that this was Secondo and Primo - although Copia had two chances, you doubt he’d have a third - or even that Terzo would come back for seconds.

“Secondo and P-Primo.” You said quickly.

“Well of course,” Terzo said, matter-of-factly, “but who’s doing what, tesoro?”

You thought you could get away with it, that they’d give you a break and let you have the win - but evidently not. “S-Secondo is - fuck -” you pushed your hips into the man’s mouth who was licking your cunt fervently. “Su-ucking on my clit.” It had to be, this was his style. He wasn’t usually gentle with your body, not when he’d been deprived for as long as he had been.

“And you think Primo is on your breasts?”

“Y-yes.”

“Take off the blindfold.”

You quickly lifted it off your eyes and immediately flinched at the candlelight, despite it being low. You’d been in complete darkness the whole time, it was hardly surprising that you were struggling to see. Your eyes were blurred, and they took a while to completely adjust, but when they did, a wave of relief washed over you. You were right. Your hands immediately flew to Primo and Secondo’s heads, putting pressure on Secondo’s because he was where you needed him the most, but everyone knew that Primo’s ministrations and work on your nipples would have you tipping over the edge in no time.

Primo lifted his mouth off your nipple and attached it to your lips, fingers tweaking the opposite bud in lieu of his tongue. This kiss was just as tender as his first one, filled with such passion you felt yourself grinding on Secondo’s tongue much faster in pure desperation.

“You are doing so well, fiorellina.” Primo echoed his words from earlier, voice low, those words clearly meant for your benefit and your benefit only. “You please us so well. Take everything we give like a good girl.”

“Papa!”

“Do you feel good?”

“Y-Yes!”

“Is my brother doing a good job?”

“Yes!”

“Tell him, fiorellina. Ask him to make you cum.”

“Please!” You begged, your mind so far gone you could hardly stand it anymore. For the first time since you looked down at him, you were able to drink in the sight of the man between your thighs, roughly sucking on your clit and pistoning his fingers in and out of you now like a man on a mission. You could only see the top of his head, given the rest of it was hidden by your cunt. You could only just see the bridge of his nose above your mound, his hands wrapped around your bruised, jiggling thighs, and him looking up at you through his lashes, a scowl on his brow with his determination to tip you over the edge. There was almost a predatory look in his eyes as he sucked you into his mouth, and it made your cunt clench tightly around his fingers.

“Oh fuck, Papa!”You called out to him, your stomach flipping at the sight of him. “Your t-tongue feels so… good. I’m so fucking close. P-please make me cum, Papa-ah! Wanna cum. Wanna cum so-oh I can… I can feel your c-cock deep inside me. Fuck! Just like that. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking st-op. Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Secondo had pushed his face further into you, his tongue roving deliciously over your clit every time he sucked on it harshly.

“Cumming!” You announced via scream, your back arching off the table and mouth hanging open in pleasure. Your voice stopped, cut like someone had just turned the sound off but continued to play the video. Your second orgasm was violent, and wet. So very wet. Your vision was the first to go, dark patches swimming over your sight and eyes glazing over and rolling back as drool poured from your open mouth. Your hands cramped where they were clutching onto the table, your desperation forcing them there right as your orgasm hit lest you draw blood from your Papas. Secondo growled into your cunt as you released your cum onto him and the table below, the sound of your squirt hitting the floor as it poured from your body, combined with Secondo sucking it down greedily had your toes curling and your orgasm continuing. It felt like it went on forever, sending electric pulses all over your body until you couldn’t stand it and damn near passed out. All the while, you had Primo in your ear whispering to you; reminding you to breathe, telling you it was okay. You barely registered the fact that his hand was resting on top of yours, fingers bent to completely cover you.

Secondo stood from his place between your thighs and moved to your head to kiss you, letting one of your hands wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you as his mouth engulfed yours. Your other hand, which was still trapped beneath Primo’s, pulled out from its position and also pulled him toward you, breaking your kiss with Secondo so you could kiss Primo just as passionately. You felt Secondo’s fingers traverse the length of your body, before dipping back into your hole. “Mmmf!”You protested, muffled by Primo’s lips. You broke the kiss to look at Secondo. “Please not your hands!”

Secondo smirked. “You want my cock, hm?”

“Yes! Fuck. Please.”

“On your stomach then, amore.”

You climbed off the table before bending over it, letting your body squish against the wood so tantalisingly, you heard appreciative groans coming from everyone in the room. Secondo came back to his original position, and fumbled around with his robes before he positioned his cock at your entrance. You could feel the weight of it against you as he ran it through your folds, gathering your slick to lube himself up. The head of his girth rubbed against your sensitive clit, still twitching from the orgasm he gave you. Each rub caused you to whimper from the sensation, mouth hanging open and brow furrowing in pleasure.

When Secondo finally sank in, the stretch was divine. Secondo was so, incredibly thick and long, he reached depths that you had never felt before. Despite already being fucked once, your cunt was still forced open as though this was the first cock you’d taken in a long, long time. Your hands clutched onto the table again, grasping the edges tightly to ground yourself as you cried out, his own hiss of pleasure echoing in your ears as he, too, felt the effects of your extraordinarily tight pussy. He gave you time to adjust to him and his size once he’d buried himself all the way to the hilt, hands on your ass cheeks, gripping tight enough for the fat to squeeze between his fingers. A string of expletives in Italian fell from his lips, punctuated by a bite to your right hip. He thrust inside tentatively at first, hitting your cervix so deliciously, your eyes rolled back into your head and a delirious smile played on your lips. Secondo kept rocking into you, hitting that spot over and over again, gradually picking up the pace until he was fucking into you at a rough pace - the perfect pace.

Primo stood in front of you, watching your face as you took Secondo’s cock. Your hands unclasped from the table and moved to Primo’s clothed cock, standing to attention underneath his robes, and began to fumble with the fabric to free him. You wanted his cock in your mouth, just as much as you needed Secondo’s. You gave Primo’s cock two strokes at first, staving off the arousal just enough to get him into your mouth without him blowing too soon. Primo was always a delight to give head to - he was always so gentle, so appreciative, hands in your hair and sweet touches, never taking too much unless you were offering it and giving you kind praise as you worked hard to get him to cum.

Your first lick ran from base to tip, causing his toes to curl in his shoes at the pressure. But once you were at his head, you swirled your tongue around it, taking the whole tip in your mouth and sucking like you would taking cake mix off the spoon. You hollowed your cheeks to make a better suction for his head, and relished in the feeling of his hands in your hair, grunts of desperation slipping from his lips. You moved your hands to his hips and silently pulled them forward, sucking more of him into your mouth until that tip was right at the back of your throat, dipping down into your throat. All the while, you looked up at him through your lashes, big, doe eyes maintaining eye contact with him while your lips sinfully stretched around his cock.

“Oh my,” Primo commented, chest heaving from his lack of breath, “look at that. You look so pretty like this, fiorellina.”

He began to gently fuck your throat, pulling out completely to give you the opportunity to breathe, and bending down to kiss you ever now and then, before eventually feeding his cock back into your mouth, and repeating the process all over again.

In the meantime, behind you, Secondo was fixated on the way your cunt swallowed him whole, greedily pulling him back in and clenching down on his shaft as Primo sent those praises to you, and they shot straight down to your hole. You could hear Secondo’s own grunts and groans as he felt this, and just how feral he was becoming the longer he was inside of you. You were feeling so good, you were creaming on his cock, and Secondo couldn’t take his eyes off the juice that had gathered at the base, pulling and snapping with each time he pulled out then slammed back in.

He pushed his hand underneath your body and began to play with your clit again, stealing a moan from your mouth, muffled by Primo’s cock that was buried all the way to the hilt down your throat again. Secondo chuckled at your response, “You like that, amore?” He asked, his tone delightfully condescending, filled with a false sympathy that had goosebumps forming on your skin. “You like taking two cocks at the same time, hm? Like being used by four men in one day?”

“You should have seen the way her eyes lit up just now, fratellino.” Primo said, stroking your hair.

“Her cunt is clenching - I know how much she likes being a whore for us. Listen to her.” True enough, underneath your muffled whines and moans, everyone could hear the sound of Secondo fucking into you, how your wetness splashed around him and made it so, embarrassingly clear just how much you loved this. Secondo laughed again. “Look over at Terzo and the Cardinal, amore.”

You did as Secondo asked, pulling Primo out of your mouth to look at them over your shoulder. Terzo was, as expected, brazen with his thoughts, his cock completely out of his trousers again and his fist wrapped around it, darkened eyes trained on your body as you bounced off Secondo’s cock, and swallowed Primo’s with enthusiasm. Copia, on the other hand, clearly just as affected as Terzo, was still dressed from his earlier encounter with your mouth, but his hand rubbing over his cassock as discreetly as he could manage. You tightened again momentarily, relishing in the fact that you had four men rock hard and desperate to bury themselves in all of your holes.

“You should have seen the Cardinal earlier, tesoro.” Terzo teased. “How eager he was to fuck your throat.”

“Fuck.” You muttered, eyes watching your friend rut into his own hand. at the sight of you getting fucked relentlessly. There was something so incredible about being the centre of everyone’s attention, and the object of all their desires. How a man who you’d never even seen in a sexual light before, and you were sure hadn’t thought of you in one, was now trying to cum for a second time at the thought of you. “M-my hands are - fuck! Papa! - My hands a-are free.” You hinted, before taking Primo back into your mouth and curling your hands into loose fists, creating two new holes for Terzo and Copia to use at their pleasure. Of course, they leaped forward, and before you knew it both of their cocks had been spat on, then slid into your fists, and began fucking your hands as they would your cunt.

You were stuffed full, almost every hole imaginable filled with the cocks of the highest members of the clergy, at the mercy of the Emeritus brothers as they had their wicked ways with you. The rigorous snaps of Secondo’s hips had you bouncing along the table, meaning Primo could stand still and you’d take his cock completely hands free, with Secondo doing all the work.

From your peripherals, you watched as Copia used your hand, his own resting on the table as though he were too shy to touch you, despite wrapping his digits around your throat and making your airways tighter for him to fuck as he pleased. Terzo, however, a man used to being deep inside you and taking his pleasure from your body, had leaned over and landed a few, stinging slaps to your ass, watching as it jiggled with both the force of his hits and the backshots Secondo was giving you. That same hand he put in his mouth - his pinkie to be precise - salivated all over it, and then began to rub it over the rim of your ass, making you jump in surprise. And then, when you’d relaxed to his touch, he inserted the tip into your twitching hole, only down to the mid knuckle, but that combined with Secondo still playing with your clit had you tipping over into your third orgasm, body tensing and cunt fluttering around his cock.

Primo had pulled out, allowing you to breathe through it, crouching down and wrapping his own hand around his cock, stroking himself furiously. “That’s it, fiorellina. Cum for us. You’re doing so well for us. Such a good girl. Ah! Sathanas! I’m close.”

When you came back to your senses, you fixated your eyes on Primo’s desperately moving hand, willing it back into your mouth, but Primo wasn’t having it.

His voice dropped to a whisper so only you could hear him. “Can I cum, fiorellina?”

Unable to speak through your exhaustion, you nodded.

“Close your eyes for me.” He ordered.

You did as you were told, and mere seconds later you heard Primo groan and then his cum landing on your flushed cheek, nose, and upper lip.

“Oh, fuck! Look at her now!” You heard Terzo say, in awe of your fucked out state, covered in cum. “Shit, me too!” He pulled out from your fist and stood where Primo once was, stroking himself until completion over your face, groaning as the first rope of cum shot out and landed on your forehead. It dripped down onto your cheek, joining the first load of cum, along with hitting your nose.

It didn’t take much longer for Secondo’s orgasm to hit him, his thrusts becoming sloppy and fast until he buried himself as deep as he could inside you, falling onto your plush body as rope after rope spilled in your tight, wet heat. His hands were gripping onto your flesh so hard, you were sure he was going to leave bruises, bruises you were excited to see for days after so you could remember what happened on your first game night with the boys.

Copia was the last one to cum, his own stamina keeping him going just as was promised by Primo earlier. But even still, a few more thrusts and he was done, his own cum joining Primo and Terzo’s on your face but this time it hit your mouth and chin, dripping onto the floor when the load was too big to stick to your skin.

You all sat there for a moment, catching your breaths from the intensity of the evening. Primo, as predicted, was exhausted and making a joke about how his old body couldn’t keep up to everyone. Terzo had picked up that same cloth that was on your eyes earlier and used it to wipe the copious amounts of cum that had painted your face; the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a look of disgust on his face as he finished cleaning you up as much as he could. “You did so well for us, tesoro.” He said, his voice low and warm. “I would kiss you but…”

You laughed, “I understand.”

“Grazie.”

“I still won, though.” You announced, smugly. You yelped when you felt Secondo spank your ass.

“Alright then, champion.” He said. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up.”

Secondo helped you get your habit back on once he had pulled out of you, and let you lean on him as you walked. Your legs were like jelly from both the position you were in and from the three orgasms the men had put you through. You bade each of them a good night before Secondo pulled you to his room, running you a bath upon arrival. As the water filled the tub, he stripped you naked again and had you sit on the edge, a damp, soapy cloth in his hands using it to properly wash your face, and clean you of any cum Terzo hadn’t managed to get. “You let us be too rough for you, amore.” He gently scolded you, watching as your face reddened beneath the warm water.

“It’s nothing I don’t enjoy, Papa.” You retorted, equally as soft. “I’d use my safeword if I didn’t. You know it makes me feel good when you use me. I feel better the more animalistic you get.”

“I don’t think we talked about the reason why before.”

“It’s the fact that you want me so much, you revert back to primal instincts and take me fiercely. Like you’re staking your claim.” Your thighs squirmed at the thought.

“You didn’t get enough just now, amore?” Secondo asked, clocking your body’s response. He knelt down and spread your legs, watching your labia part and wetness seep out again. He frowned. “Your poor pussy took such a beating - she’s so red.”

“She can take more, Papa.”

He looked up at you darkly. “You want your Papa to fuck you again? Fill you up with another load of cum, hm? You’re that desperate for cock you want your Papa to fill you again even though you’ve just taken four?”

“Please, Papa.” You whispered, feeling your nipples harden with arousal.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, from your hole to your clit and had you jumping. “In the tub then, puttana. Let me claim you properly.”

Commissions are open! ⛧ Memberships ⛧ Tip Jar

[milessunflowers]

Hi! I really love your work a lot! I wanted to request lestappen x autistic male reader who is a race engineer. But used to drive carts and a team is short a test driver so y/n is forced to test the car and crashes and gets a sensory overload and Lestappen is right there to comfort him?

yes! i can absolutely do this!

max verstappen x autistic!male!reader x charles leclerc

synopsis: you only drove an f1 car a handful times, and even then it was too much for you. crashing is ten times worse

author's note: this is basically based on how i am when i get a sensory overload so i apologize if it isn't how you pictured it or how any of you handle it. this is just based off my experience. as always, feel free to keep requesting!

you usually only worked as an aston martin race engineer for fernando

sometimes you would be a test/reserve driver but that was really rare

in reality, it was way too much for you to drive the car without panicking

luckily for you, you didn't have to swap places with one of the drivers all that often

plus you had amazing boyfriends that supported you and knew exactly how to help you when it came to overstimulation or overwhelming situations

which also included the high intensity that came with testing out an f1 car

so, when aston martin was short one test driver, they looked to you

you don't even know how you ended up in the car

but you did

you were used to being outside, helping to lead fernando and keeping him updated

now there was someone talking in your ear on top of the very overwhelming sound of the engine and the fast speeds

it was a lot for you

you could feel it happening before you even spun out

you were starting to panic which never eneded up good

you tried to think back to what your therapist had helped you learn and how charles and max help you but nothing was coming

it was all getting to the point where you jerked the wheel and hit a wall

you came out fine, just with some minor bruises

but you were so overwhelmed that you had to immediately find your boyfriends

even that proved to be difficult

so you sat in your garage, trying hard not to breakdown

no one could come near you without scaring you or making it worse

not until someone found max, who then brought charles

once they were in to come calm you down, you basically jumped onto them

they had brought your comfort item (toy, stuffed animal, etc.)

which you immediately grabbed to help calm yourself down

they were saying sweet little comments that help to calm you down always

it took a while to soothe you but they were there for you through it all

they hugged you when it was okay to touch you again

they rubbed your back in case you didn't want to be hugged

they made sure you weren't in a load or busy environment

and they let you take you time when you wanted to or could talk again

they just wanted to make sure you were okay

TAGS! (if you want to be added, lmk!)

@op-81-lvr-reblogs, @koalapastries, @justaf1girl, @ghostking4m, @spoonfulofmilo, @seonghwaexile

[zepskies]

Calculated Risks

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: You and Ben argue about your commitment to being a working mom. When a rogue supe gets loose at Supe Affairs, mayhem ensues, putting not only your life at risk, but your daughter’s as well.

AN: Welcome back to the BMD-verse, friends! Did you miss these two as much as I did? Plus, get ready for a heavy dose of fan-favorite Frank. (And Lila, of course!)

Word Count: 7K

Tags/Warnings: Familiar bickering, a mission gone awry, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Catch up on the BMD-verse. ⤵️

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

In four years of marriage, one thing that had never changed between you and Ben was this.

“All right, you’re being a little too much right now,” you said in irritation. “Of course I’m not sitting this one out. I’m the one who found us the damn lead in the first place.”

The man was following you from the adjoining bathroom and back into your shared bedroom, where you began getting dressed for work in the blouse and pencil skirt you’d laid out for yourself.

Your husband had already donned his supe suit, sans helmet. He stood just behind you with his arms crossed, a familiar surly frown on his face. When you turned around, he hadn’t moved an inch.

“I’m being too much? You’re the one who’s not being fucking reasonable,” he said.

You rolled your eyes and moved past him to find your shoes. For this skirt, you really needed heels. Your most comfortable black pumps would do. You grabbed the closet doorknob for balance as you slipped them on, giving him a look of exasperation.

Ben held firm on his stance, but inside, he had a feeling you’d chosen this outfit on purpose. You knew he liked this whole sexcretary look on you, with your hair let down around your shoulders. The skirt and heels just brought his eyes to the delectable curve of your ass.

But again, he was holding firm.

He’d been called in on this case partly because Annie was on maternity leave. She was due in just a few weeks. Which meant “Soldier Boy” was definitely needed to help out Butcher and his merry band of assholes. By now, Ben had gotten used to them.  

“Look,” you said, “Slingshot has been causing a lot of havoc, and the police haven’t been able to catch him. You heard Grace. This is an ‘all hands on deck’ situation.”

“She always says that shit. Doesn’t make it true,” Ben retorted.

“This time it is,” you said. “I’ve already put in tons of man hours on surveillance for this guy. I want to get him off the street.”

Ben held you by your arms. “That’s exactly my point. You’ve been putting in way too many hours.”

You shook your head. He just didn’t get it.

“If I hadn’t, we wouldn’t have this opening now,” you said. You gave him a smile to try and lighten him. “Now he’s all teed up for you and the guys. This should be in and out. Practically a milk run for you.”

“Yeah, but not for you,” he pointed out. “And not for Lila. You’re stretching yourself too damn thin. It’s not like we need the money.”

Ahh, now we get to it, you thought. Yet again, he was bringing this up. In his mind, you should’ve cut your hours at Supe Affairs after Lila was born.

You did take an extended maternity leave of an entire year and a half, which was much more than women usually got from their jobs. However, because of your relationship with Grace and the entire team, you’d been allowed to come back whenever you felt ready. 

Ben had often felt it necessary to point out that with his money, you didn’t have to work at all. 

He knew very well that for you, this work was more than a job. 

“I’m not the first working mom in existence, Ben,” you said, pushing out of his hold. “And I’ll remind you that Supe Affairs has a great daycare program. Lila’s very happy there.”

Plus, she was almost three and a half years old. In less than a year, Lila would be off to preschool.

“And look, it’s not about the money,” you added. “I told you before Lila was born. I am a mother, and I’m your wife. But I’m still me.”

Ben processed that for a moment, meeting your gaze.

“The situation’s changed,” he replied. He grasped your hips this time. His thumb gently brushed over your belly, which had a small bump under your high-waisted skirt. 

You were finally pregnant again. Three months, in fact, and you were having a boy. You knew that Ben had several reasons to be more protective than usual…but still. You thought you were already taking every precaution to keep you and your children safe, even with the occasionally extensive hours of your job.

“These cases can be long and difficult, not to mention dangerous,” said Ben. His green eyes met yours as he looked down at you through furrowed brows. “You’re putting yourself at risk.”

You blew out a breath and tried to placate him, soothing a hand over his chest. 

“I’ve stopped doing field missions,” you pointed out. “And Supe Affairs is the most secure building in the city. Do you think I would bring Lila there if it wasn’t?”

The security team at the S.A. was bar none, not only because Loco was a part of that team. Frank was also your personal bodyguard; Ben hired him back when you found out you were pregnant with Lila.

In fact, Frank was coming to the house in a few minutes to pick you all up.

Ben frowned. “I think you’re being stubborn just to be fucking stubborn.”

That sparked at your temper. Again, you withdrew from his arms and crossed yours.

“I think you need to face the fact that I’m protected as well as I can be,” you said. “I also think that you’re trying to use this as a way to shoehorn me into some antiquated idea of what you still think a wife should be. I’m gonna tell you right now. That’s not me! It’s never been me. And you know that.”

He opened his mouth to give an angry retort, but you beat him to it.

“It’s like you don’t even care about what I want,” you snapped. “Just what you think is right—for me to be here waiting for you to come home, quite literally barefoot and pregnant, ready to rub your balls!”

Cliché as it might’ve been to say, if the shoe fit, then you were certainly not going to be the one to wear it.

“You know what, you can accuse me of being stuck in the fucking past all you want,” Ben said, raising a finger, as well as his voice. “But the problem here isn’t me. It’s that what you want is goddamn idiotic!”

Your mouth fell agape. “Excuse me?! I can’t even believe you right now!”

Ben fairly loomed above you when he shouted back.

“Well, that makes fucking two of us!”

His voice was loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You even flinched, but you held your ground with a glare…

Until you heard a whimper.

You and Ben paused, and turned to find Lila. The three-year-old was cowering a bit in the doorway to your bedroom. Her eyes welled up with tears, and she began to cry.

Your heart broke.

“Oh, honey,” you breathed. You were both apologetic and mortified as you quickly went to her.

Ben was close behind you, but while Lila was quick to melt into your arms when you picked her up, she shied away from his attempt to reach out to her. What would’ve been a placating hand on her head, turned into him pausing in surprise when she ducked.

“Lila?” he prodded.

He tried to mask how put out he was by his daughter hiding her face from him, burrowing into your neck instead. She was usually a daddy’s girl, through and through.

You shot him a knowing frown, while rubbing her back in comfort.

“It’s okay, baby,” you told her. “Your dad and I were just…talking. He didn’t mean to shout.”

When Lila only whimpered in response, Ben’s gaze dimmed in understanding. His lips pursed.

You saw that look on his face, and you wanted to sigh. Part of you felt bad for him, at the way Lila had flinched away from her father. In a way though, maybe it was a lesson he needed to learn.

Frank arrived a few minutes later in a black SUV, like he did every weekday morning to bring you all to work. Ben was quiet and taciturn climbing into the backseat on one side, and you clipped Lila into her car seat from the other side. He still made sure that she was strapped in correctly, and even tried to earn his daughter’s gaze.

She snuck a glance at him a couple of times, but quickly lowered it to play with one of her favorite stuffed animal toys (a little German shepherd that he had gotten for her).

Ben let out a long breath through his nose. He gave Frank a nod through the rearview mirror, and the other man peeled away from the house.

The four of you rode in silence away from your house in Scarsdale, towards New York City.

Ben’s mood remained grim, even when you all got to Supe Affairs. Frank held back while you and Ben stopped in the hallway with Lila. You were carrying her, and she was holding onto you and her stuffed animal like a lifeline instead of looking anywhere else—namely at Ben.

You sighed and tried to pull her back enough to see her face.

“Daddy’s gotta go to work now. Want to say goodbye?” you encouraged.

All Lila could manage was a shy look in his direction. Ben laid a gentle hand on her head, over her dark hair.

“Bye, sweetheart,” he said.

Lila didn’t answer him. She just bit her lip and stayed withdrawn.

You and Ben shared a glance. He was hiding it well behind his usual stoicism, but this was hurting him. There wasn’t much either of you could do about it now, however. You both had work to do, and the mission would have to come first.

“I’ll be online in a bit,” you told him. 

First, you needed to take Lila up to daycare before Frank accompanied you to your office. There you’d be able to join the mission from your computer and put your headset on. Aside from surveillance, you were their virtual eyes on missions. 

So Ben tacitly agreed, and the two of you parted ways.

You went up to the second floor to drop Lila off at daycare, where you set her onto her feet. You could see that she was quiet and almost sad, not as bright and talkative as usual. And she was clinging to your hand. You bent down the best you could in your skirt, so you could meet her eyes.

“Are you still upset with your dad?” you asked. 

After a moment, Lila replied, “Daddy’s loud.”

You couldn’t help a rueful smile. 

“Yeah, he can be,” you nodded. “But he’s gonna work on that, okay? He loves you very much.”

She finally smiled a little when you pressed a few sweet kisses to her cheeks. You felt a little better about leaving her with Sarah, the woman who ran the daycare center. She was kind, but well-organized, and good at her job of wrangling fifteen or so toddlers on a daily basis.

And she was hovering off to the side with a smile, waiting to shepherd Lila over to where the rest of the group were starting at the arts and crafts table.

“Okay, baby. I love you. I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you said, caressing Lila’s cheeks, brushing her hair away from her face.

She nodded and waved goodbye. Sarah then stepped in and guided the girl over to the crafts table. The other kids were already drawing and coloring with crayons and markers.

With a sigh, you knew you had to get to work. You joined Frank out in the hall.

“Did something happen this morning?” he asked. You gave him a weary look.

“Something always happens. I’ll fill you in when we hit the elevator,” you said.

“Kids are resilient. She’ll bounce back,” said Frank, when you two got off the elevator down to the basement, under the first floor. This was where the “heavy stuff” happened at the S.A.

“That’s not the point, Frank. He hasn’t snapped at me like that in a long time, and he really scared her. That’s not fucking okay,” you said. “He needs to learn to control his goddamn temper.”

He sent you a knowing glance. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay, I know I don’t always help. But in this case, I was justified,” you said. “Ben was being an ass.”

“Right,” Frank nodded. “It’s not at all that he’s worried about you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Whose side are you on?”

The man remained silent, but his stoic face wasn’t fooling you. He’d been your friend for much too long, and he knew Ben just as well…which was why you found yourself reconsidering what happened this morning.

“You really think he has a point?” you asked. “Am I working too much?”

Frank shook his head and opened the door for you into the Surveillance Department. The two of you ventured to your office, where your quadruple monitor setup was waiting for you. He also had a desk for himself, since he often spent the long hours of your day with you.

“When you were pregnant with Lila, you were on maternity leave by now,” he pointed out.

“Because we had no idea what was going to happen,” you countered. You went to your desk and started up your computer. “I had to meet with Tonya once a week, ultrasounds and blood tests all the time, making sure Lila was healthy, that I was healthy. This time around, we have a better idea of what to expect.”

For example, you were experiencing bouts of super strength once again, but it was still intermittent. Although, you pretty much never needed coffee. Maybe the supe genes coursing through your system, thanks to your unborn son, was part of the reason why you’d been able to go such long hours for these cases.

He's already brightening up my life, you thought with a little smile, holding a hand over your lower belly.

“It’s your choice,” Frank said at last. “But it is possible that Ben cares about more than just making you a suburban housewife.”

At that, you sighed. There was nothing wrong with being a housewife, you knew. It just wasn’t…you.

Once your computer and monitors were booted up, you connected to the right channels and put on your headset.

Already you could hear M.M. bitching about keeping the weapons trunk organized, not just tossing things in haphazardly. 

“It’s a simple fucking system, Frenchie. You can at least abide by it,” M.M. said. “We don’t have time to be scratching our asses while you try to find a—”

“Hey, Bert and Ernie. Would you shut the fuck up already?” Ben groused.

Your mouth twitched at his grumpiness.

“A little testy this morning, ey guv?” Butcher remarked.

“Gargle my ball sack,” Ben replied, with an even grouchier deadpan than usual.

“Do you kiss your child with that mouth?” Frenchie teased. 

“Nah, just your mother’s French hole,” Ben slung back. You rolled your eyes. 

“All right, all right. Put the measuring tapes away,” you interrupted. “I’m online, locked on your GPS.”

“Well, if it ain’t Mrs. America herself,” Butcher drawled. “Got a lock on Slingshot’s location for us?” 

“You know it,” you replied. “Sending to the group chat now. Slingshot’s been spotted entering a strip club in Chinatown.” 

“Jeez. A little early for tits and booze. It’s 10:00 a.m. on a Tuesday,” said Hughie.

You heard Ben huff in amusement. “It’s never too early.”

You snorted at that.

“Right. I’ll remember that next time you fall asleep watching Family Feud,” you clipped back.

You heard the other guys trying not to laugh as they got into Butcher’s van. Part of you felt bad for teasing Ben, knowing he was already in a bad mood, but you were feeling a bit petty about what happened this morning.

You had to bite your lip against a smile, as you could picture the ill-tempered face your man was likely sporting.

And we’re off.

Lila wasn’t having a good day. 

She didn’t feel like coloring, and the toys just weren’t fun today.

She just didn’t want to be here. The other kids smelled like old Cheetos and feet (especially the boys).

She missed you. And though she hadn’t wanted to admit it to you, she missed Daddy too.

Lila wanted to go home…she wanted her mom. 

“I’m just downstairs if you need me,” you’d said.

Lila had a kind of plan percolating in her mind, all through the morning, and even through lunch time. She didn’t want to get in trouble, but when she’d asked Miss Sarah if she could go see you, she’d said you were at work and couldn’t come get Lila until later. 

But that’s not what Mommy said, Lila thought.  

After lunch, she laid on the napping mat with her pillow and blanket, even though she was wide awake. She didn’t want to nap with the other kids, even though Miss Sarah told her it was time to sleep. 

Again, Lila didn’t want to be bad. She didn’t want to get in trouble either, but she really, really just wanted to see you.

And you’d said it was okay to go downstairs if she needed you, right?

Lila closed her eyes while Miss Sarah was looking, but she waited until the teacher went into her office to answer a call. Then, Lila carefully put Charlie, her stuffed dog, against her pillow, tucking the blanket up to his neck. 

She crawled off her mat and snuck over to the door while Miss Sarah was distracted on her phone. Lila reached up and was just tall enough to twist the doorknob. It led her out of the room, and out into the empty hall. She then looked both ways for a clue on where to go. 

She heard a ding, and looked over at a nearby pair of elevators.

The mission went more or less according to plan. Slingshot’s abilities allowed him to stretch every part of his body like elastic. It not only made him hard to catch, but even harder to maim without collateral damage. 

A whole block in Chinatown was wrecked in the takedown, but your idea of ripping the cables from a nearby utility pole to electrocute him let Ben finally subdue the elastic supe. Kimiko knocked him out, and Butcher slapped some tight-ass cuffs on him and dragged him into the van. They returned with the rogue supe in custody. 

You were mentally exhausted from helping them track down routes to pin down Slingshot, but you were relieved to be done. You were also satisfied that another danger to society was neutralized, for now.

You took pride in your work, and you didn’t think Ben saw that, or thought it was important. You supposed that was what upset you the most about that fight with him.

Sometimes, you wondered if he would ever truly change.

You grabbed your purse and made sure to slip in your gun and taser. You left your office and greeted Frank, who had just finished making his rounds in the building with Loco’s team. Frank joined you on the way to the elevator.

“I meant to ask you, how’s Alana doing?” you asked. Alana was his daughter, who was now in college.

“She’s changed her major yet again,” he said wryly. “This time to philosophy.”

“Philosophy? That’s interesting. What does she want to do with that?” you asked.

“No fucking clue,” he replied, hitting the button for the first floor. “I just hope she gets bored and picks something practical. Like…teaching, or dentistry.”

You shot him a bemused look. “Dentistry?”

“As much money as I put into that girl’s braces, it’d be good for her to pay it forward,” Frank said, in a surly tone that reminded you of Ben. You had to laugh.

You and Frank exited the elevator and started down the hall.

You planned to touch base with Grace Mallory on the safety measures of Slingshot’s containment before he was put into custody. The idea was to house him in a prison cell that could actually hold him until he went through the legal process. 

But you’d only gotten halfway down the hall before the supe in question literally stretched past you on unnaturally long legs—in a blur of his white and blue supe suit. Your eyes widened on a gasp as you watched him head toward the elevator you’d just come off of. 

“Fuckin’ hell, we’ve got a runner!” Butcher shouted from down the hall. He along with Ben, M.M., Frenchie, Hughie, and Kimiko were rushing your way. 

It all happened so fast. 

You registered Frank shooting out a protective arm in front of you. You turned back to see the elevator doors had opened back up, and Slingshot rushed inside. He made eye contact with you.

Then his arms shot out like rubber bands. One of them knocked Frank into the far wall. You gasped and froze on reflex. 

Ben shouted your name; he was running towards you, getting closer. You were able to meet his wide eyes for a brief moment. He reached out for you, but those stretching arms closed around you first. You gasped when they slung you backwards.

You cried out in shock when your back met a surprisingly solid chest.

Meanwhile, Ben barreled the rest of the way down the hall as the elevators closed just short of his angrily furrowed face.

The stretched arms holding you were tight around your torso, making your grit your teeth as you tried to pull away. They twisted you around so you could face your captor. Or so he could see you.

His natural height was around Butcher’s—dark hair, blue eyes, angular features. He gave you what was probably meant to be a suave smile as those baby blues dragged down your body.

“Hey, baby. Nice heels,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“So that’s why they call you Slingshot,” you said, still a bit breathless. The elevator started to move. He’d chosen the top floor. “Where do you think you’re gonna go?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” he snarked. “Anywhere but here. And you’re gonna help me.”

“How? Being a human shield?”

“For a start,” he smirked down at you. He backed up a step just to take another proper look at you, and he whistled lowly. He took your chin between his sweaty fingers, making you grimace when he stroked your cheek. 

“Down boy,” you said warily. “Trust me, you really don’t want to do this.”

This jackass hadn’t even realized you had a small, but noticeable baby bump.

“Why not, babe?” he grinned. “You’ve got the whole sexy librarian thing going on.” 

You heard a loud creaking sound outside the elevator doors. The compartment itself came to an abrupt stop, making the lights flicker. 

“What the fuck?” Slingshot muttered. His hold around you loosened. 

You had an idea of what just happened, with grim satisfaction. You also took advantage of his distraction and managed to slip a hand into your purse.

You pulled out your taser. Slingshot noticed and tried to grab you again, but the elevator somehow started to move in reverse, about a foot a time. It made both of you lose your balance and utter sounds of surprise.  

As soon as you regained your footing, you aimed the taser at the most sensitive place you could think of—the supe’s dick and balls.

His howls of pain were loud enough to reach Ben, Frank, and the rest of the team on the third floor. Ben’s face became edged with a smirk. 

He kept pulling the elevator cables down until the compartment’s doors were in reach. There he grabbed the doors and pulled them open with his bare hands, crunching metal under his fingers. The moment he saw you, the relief in your eyes, he grabbed your hand and pulled you out, into his arms. 

Slingshot was angry, though he managed to recover, rip off the taser’s metal prongs and wires, and evade Kimiko, M.M., and even Butcher when he slithered his way out of the elevator and around their guns. The bullets ricocheted off the walls, and off his body as they followed him down the hall.

Ben focused on you. He brushed his half-gloved hands over your shoulders and sides while he quickly looked you over. There was worry in his eyes, disguised as anger. You caught your breath and held a protective hand over your lower belly out of reflex. 

“You okay?” he said, but you were already nodding before he asked.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Just get him. I’ll get Lila.” 

Ben nodded. He shot one last firm look at Frank, who was back at your side. Frank laid a hand on your shoulder as Ben took off down the hall to find Slingshot. 

“The stairs are safer at this point,” Frank said. 

“I would have to agree,” you said, steeling yourself with a breath. 

While you and Frank went downstairs to the second floor, you didn’t see the second elevator ding, its doors opening to your daughter, who ambled out alone. She looked one way down the hall, but hearing her father’s voice carrying down the opposite way, she started venturing in that direction.

If she couldn’t find you, then she’d find her dad. 

“What the hell do you mean you lost her?” you shouted at Sarah, the woman who was supposed to be looking after your daughter. “How do you lose a three-year-old at nap time? What kind of incompetent fuck are you?”

Yes, Ben had unfortunately rubbed off on you. 

Sarah was in tears by the time you were not even halfway done, but Frank calmed you down with another touch to your shoulder. You had tears of panic stinging in your eyes when you met his gaze, your mouth trembling.

“I just radioed in and put Loco and the rest of the security team on looking for Lila. She can’t have gotten far,” he said. 

“Come on! Keep up with me, old man,” Slingshot taunted at Ben. His super flexibility allowed him to keep several steps ahead, dodging any attempts to grab him and any weapons fired with easy dips and playful deflection. 

“When I get my hands on you, you flaccid fuck, you won’t know your ass from your ball sack,” Ben growled. 

But he crashed into the wall when he took a corner too hard trying to tackle the other supe. He picked himself up from the debris of crumbled wall and plaster, ignoring Kimiko’s offer of a helping hand. 

“Big fucking talk from the walking AARP commercial,” Slingshot snorted. He turned around and once again prepared to run. “Try not to shatter a hip, asshole!”

He took off down another bend in the hallway. Meanwhile, Ben shook himself off and joined the others in running after this cocksucker. Ben looked over at Butcher.

“What’s your fucking plan?” he grated out. 

Butcher seemed to have an idea growing in his mind. “What’d she do to him in that elevator?”

“Tased his dick, by the sound of it,” Ben replied. He knew what weapons you kept in your purse, and that you'd know better than to fire a gun in an enclosed elevator. Butcher snapped his fingers.

“Electricity. Bloody brilliant,” he said. He pointed at Hughie and grabbed Frenchie by the collar. “You, with me. I’ve got an idea. The rest of ya, get him pinned down.”

“Easier said than done, motherfucker,” M.M. grumbled. But he followed Ben and Kimiko to find their errant supe. 

Slingshot played a cocky game, but inside, there was fear. 

They’d caught him once, and now, this building was crawling with security, let alone the assholes chasing him.

He was panting for breath when he nearly ran straight into…a kid? 

She was wandering around, trying to open a locked door. He skidded to a stop in front of her, and she looked up at him wide-eyed. He tilted his head. She was a cute little thing with brown hair and green eyes. She wore a blouse with cartoon ducks on it over her jeans and sunshine-yellow shoes. 

“Hey, cutie. Where you going?” asked Slingshot. “Are you lost?”

“Looking for my mom,” she answered, a bit timidly. The supe gave her an easy smile; inside, he knew he’d just found his collateral, and his ticket out of here. 

“Okay. What’s your name?” he asked. 

“L…Lila,” she said. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he said, with all due charm. He struck a pose, with his fists held up to his waist. “I can help you, Lila. I’m a superhero.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? Like Daddy?”

“Oh, yeah. Your dad and I are friends.” Never mind that he had no fucking clue who her daddy was. He offered her his hand. 

Now, Lila knew not to talk to strangers, but if he knew her dad… 

After a moment of reluctant indecision, she took his hand. Slingshot tapered a smirk into a more friendly smile. 

“Let’s go find him.”  

Ben was ahead of the pack, but he soon came to an abrupt stop with wider eyes. He finally found Slingshot, except he had Ben’s daughter by the hand. Slingshot wore a cocky grin as he took the child up into his arms. 

“Hey, guys. Who’s this little peanut belong to?” he asked. “Said she was looking for her daddy.” 

Ben’s breath turned to lead in his lungs. Lila’s eyes lit up with recognition when she saw him. 

“Daddy!”

Ben’s softer gaze shifted from her, hardening once it reached the other supe. 

“Let her go,” he growled lowly. 

Slingshot’s grin deepened incredulously as he laughed.

“Oh shit, she’s yours?” he exclaimed. “This’s just too fucking perfect.”

“Lila!” your shout came from behind Ben, and you stepped around M.M. and Kimiko.

Ben held out a hand to keep you at bay. He kept his eyes on Slingshot, but Ben heard your gasp. His stomach dipped, knowing your worry had to be reaching new heights as you took in the situation.

“Ben,” you uttered. 

“I’ve got this,” he said to you.

“You don’t got shit, old man,” Slingshot snapped. He shot you a smirk next. “She’s your bitch? Figures.”

“Just let her go,” you implored. You had tears brimming in your eyes. “We can negotiate your release if you promise to be more responsible.”

Ben shot you a glance then. He didn’t intend for this fucker to live, let alone walk the streets of New York again. But he supposed any bluff was worth it at this point.

Meanwhile, seeing the distress on her parents’ faces made Lila begin to break down into tears. She whined, pushing against the supe holding her, wanting to be let go. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Slingshot cooed. “You’re just gonna take a little trip with me.”

“No!” a ragged shout tore from your throat when he took a few backward steps down the hall. 

Ben held you back from following him, all while he tensed with rage. M.M. and Kimiko were also poised to try and stop the supe. But Slingshot tightened his hold on Lila in warning.

“Back the fuck off,” he demanded. “Once I get to JFK and get my ass on a plane, maybe, maybe you see your daughter aga—”

He had to stop short, as he sensed something just outside of his peripheral vision.

It was Butcher, coming at him to swing a baseball bat at the supe’s head.

You screamed in protest, but Butcher was relying on the supe’s reflexes to dodge the bat. He wasn’t disappointed. Slingshot dodged. Though in his distraction, it gave Ben the opening he needed to step into his orbit and land a solid punch across Slingshot’s face.

It not only cracked his jaw, but also caught him off guard enough for his grip on the child to loosen. Ben grabbed his daughter and turned her away in a protective embrace.

Then Frenchie brought Slingshot down with the prongs of a massive taser clipping onto his nipples. He jolted and screamed—and went down hard on the tile floor. 

While Hughie and M.M. ushered in the rest of the security team to swarm in and take the supe into custody, you raced forward to Ben and Lila in tears.

Lila was also crying and clinging to Ben’s neck, shaking like a leaf.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, so only she could hear. Lila whimpered and burrowed tighter against his neck.

Tears streamed down your face, but you tried to breathe through it. You rubbed her back and checked her over, making sure she wasn’t hurt. 

For Ben, the force of his relief was pounding in his ears. He briefly closed his eyes as he held his daughter closer. 

When he opened them again, he met your gaze. You couldn’t speak. All you could do was grab onto his wrist for support. He gave that to you, wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you into his side. 

“Frank,” he said. His voice was a sharp command. The other man was ready to carry out whatever Ben asked. He also looked relieved to see that Lila was all right.

“Pull the car around,” said Ben. Frank nodded, and went to do just that.

Ben turned to watch in satisfaction when Frenchie and M.M. hauled up a still twitching Slingshot. Butcher slapped a pair of electroshock handcuffs on him that would keep him better contained this time—courtesy of the S.A. armory. He nodded over at Ben, and the latter returned the gesture. 

You missed it all, as you were preoccupied with comforting your daughter.

“It’s okay, honey. We’re going home,” you gently whispered to Lila, who was still hiding her face in Ben’s neck. You shared a look with him, and he gave you a short nod. His hand moved to the small of your back, both protective and possessive as the three of you moved towards the garage exit. 

There Frank waited with the car that would take your family home.

You watched Ben with the beginning of tears brimming in your eyes. You managed to hold them at bay while he set Lila down in her bed. You’d just finished giving her a bath and helping her get into her pajamas after a quiet, somewhat tense dinner. 

Lila still seemed upset in her unusually quiet mood, which you knew was understandable. Ben sat at her bedside and soothed a hand over her head, brushing her cheek with his thumb. 

“You’ve had a crazy friggin’ day, huh?” he asked. Lila didn’t want to look at him, but he encouraged it with gentle fingers brushing her chin, teasing the tip of her nose. She hinted at a smile and finally met his eyes. He smiled back at her, if more reserved. But his expression turned serious again.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. He could see it. She had been more or less fine throughout dinner, but now she’d turned quiet and withdrawn again. She only got like that when she was upset about something.

Lila toyed with the ear of her stuffed animal, Charlie. Frank had retrieved it for her from the daycare.

“Sorry I talked to strangers,” Lila mumbled.

You had to bite the inside of your lip so you wouldn’t cry. You came over to sit on the other side of her bed. You sniffed and shook your head, but Ben beat you to what you wanted to say. 

“You’re not in trouble, all right? We’re not mad,” he said. 

Lila’s lower lip wobbled. Ben sighed and picked her up, plopping her down in his lap. She hugged him as tight as she could and he held her back, warm and secure.  

“You know I’m always gonna be there to keep you safe. You never have to worry or be afraid,” he said. 

You carded your fingers through Lila’s hair so she knew you were there too. Usually, the roles were reversed, where you were doing the comforting and Ben was the solid support. Right now though, you just didn’t have the words. Not when guilt was eating you from the inside out.

Fortunately, your husband did have the words, after he heaved a sigh. 

“I might raise my voice, sometimes, but uh…you never have to be afraid of me either. Okay?” he said.

"Mhmm," Lila agreed.

You laid hand on Ben's arm, gently squeezing. He met your gaze, and knew what you were prodding with just that look in your eyes.

Briefly, he hesitated before he looked back down at his daughter.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said.

Lila nodded against his chest. “It's okay.”

“Good,” he said, laying a kiss on her forehead. “All right, you ready to go to bed?”

She clung to him and made a sound of refusal. 

You were finally able to crack a smile. You leaned down by her ear. 

“You want Daddy to read you a story first?” you asked. 

Ben shot you a look at the way you volunteered him for that. He was tired and drained. 

But one hopeful, shiny look from his daughter, and he folded like a deck of cards.

Later, when Lila was asleep, you tucked her in one last time and Ben turned out the light. He kept the door cracked open, just in case she called for either one of you tonight.

Then, somehow, you and Ben ended up in the kitchen instead of the bedroom. As exhausted as both of you were, you needed this moment to decompress, with one of your old favorite pastimes…

He broke out the whiskey while you found an appropriate midnight snack, and then a seat with him at the breakfast bar. The two of you shared a companionable silence, as well as a large bag of sea salt and vinegar chips. 

That was sort of how you felt inside.

“Today can’t happen again,” Ben said, breaking the silence. 

You looked over at him, but he was looking beyond you. Maybe so he didn’t have to show you how deeply he’d been rattled. You knew him far too well for that. 

“Of course not,” you replied. And you released a sigh. “So here’s what I’m thinking. From now on I’ll work from home, so I can watch Lila until she goes to preschool.”

Ben got ready to argue, but you held up a hand. The other went to rest over your belly. You had scheduled an ultrasound with Dr. Tonya Baker tomorrow, just to make sure all was well after this ordeal.

“I already plan to take my maternity leave when this guy rolls into town,” you said with a smile. “Then, when I’m ready, and if it’s feasible, I can continue to work from home until all the kids are in school.”

Ben’s lips twitched humorlessly. He should’ve known you’d continue making this a negotiation. He set down his glass, and he reached out to slide a hand over yours, across your belly. He took in a deep breath. But when he let it go, you sensed you still hadn’t convinced him.

“Listen, I know you don’t want me to work—” you began.

“It’s not that,” he said. He made sure you looked him in the eyes when he said it. “It’s not.”

Despite yourself, you read the sincerity in his words. It had you pausing, waiting for him to continue.

“You know damn well…that just being around me is dangerous,” he said. “To you, and to Lila. But you being connected with Supe Affairs, working these missions, even from behind a desk, it’s a fucking risk. It’ll always be a risk.”

You considered that with new understanding. You took his hand with both of yours.

“Ben, this life, this work…it’s the same for me as it is for you. It’s all I know how to do. It’s what I’m wired for. So that’s why it’s hard for me to turn down that dial,” you explained. “But look, I understand what you’re saying. Believe me, I do. And today…today was…”

Your breath hitched as tears stung in your eyes. Ben shook his head and tugged you closer.

“Come ‘ere,” he said.

You left your chair to go to him. You stood between his long legs while he pulled you into a warm embrace. Logically, you knew that what happened today wasn’t your fault. However, part of you still felt like a failure of a mother for underestimating the risks of having your daughter at the S.A.  

You should’ve known better, you berated yourself. And yet, it was Ben’s words that stopped your train of thought.

“Today wasn't on you,” he said. "Get that thought outta your head."

He knew you well too, and this was one of those times. You wept harder against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck. He held you, comforted you until you began to calm down.

“Take your maternity leave early,” he said. His deep voice was a rumble. “You’re going to have your hands full with Lila when I’m not here. Unless we hire someone to help you.”

It was an idea you could consider, but who could you trust? That was the question. 

Maybe your mother? you thought. You knew she was thinking of retiring from her job in a couple of years anyway.

You sighed and slipped your fingers through Ben’s hair. Your hand came to rest on the back of his neck as you leaned against him.

When Lila came into your lives, you had been so excited to start a family that you hadn’t considered the non-physical side effects. Namely, the sacrifices you would have to make in order to keep your family safe. 

Before you met Ben, your job was your life. But today reminded you that your daughter…and your unborn son, were more important to you than your job. No matter how important that job might be for the rest of the world. 

“Let’s talk about this more tomorrow,” you said, shaking your head. “I can’t think anymore.”

After a beat of hesitation, he agreed with a nod. Like so many battles before, whatever compromise you and Ben finally reached would be hard won. His hand found your cheek and caressed your skin.

“You still try my fucking patience, you know that?” he muttered.

You smiled tiredly. “Did you really expect that to change?”

He scoffed. Even so, he guided you off his shoulder so that he could claim your lips. His kiss tasted like the burn of whiskey. You met his demanding lips in kind, though you were the first one to part from him slowly. 

“I love you,” you whispered a reminder. 

Ben nodded and pressed a kiss to your forehead. He lingered there for a moment, as if he could pause the world for a while. 

He eventually let out a breath through his nose and allowed himself to be honest.

“I love you too,” he said.

With that shared understanding, he stood from his seat. He drained the last of his glass before he bent to gather you up into his arms. You yelped in surprise, clinging to his shoulders.

“Time for some rest,” Ben said. There was a certain smile on his face, gentler than usual.

He forged a path towards the bedroom. You sighed and laid your head against his chest. 

For once, you didn’t argue with him.  

AN: I've been wanting to put this one out for a while now. 💚💚 I so hope you enjoyed this chapter of the BMD verse! Do you like how their little family is evolving? 😘

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Aside from the major one-shots and mini series within the BMD-verse, there are some fun Imagines and Headcanons as well. Remember to check back on the series masterlist for more BMD stories.

▶️ Break Me Down Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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[dearlenore]

I just found your account recently and I have fallen in love with your writing, it's so beautiful.

Could you do something with protective reader. Like where reader and spencer like each other but are to oblivious to the others feelings to do anything but when reader finds out Spencer's being teased by some people she goes off on them (even though spencer assures it's not a big deal). And when spencer confronts her about why she did that she confesses on accident.

Hope this makes any sence 🫶🏻

A GOOD GIRL’S GUIDE TO DESTRUCTION • S.REID

SUMMARY: when you discover your workplace crush is being bullied by some loser agents with a room temperature IQ, you decide it would be criminal to allow it to stand and show them their place in the bullpen.

PAIRING: Bau!fem!reader x preseason1!spencer

tags: reader is a a little mean, reader wears heels, reader is canonly SUPER hot, lowkey bullying, use of y/n once or twice I think???, feminine reader,

a/n: WAIT this is so frickin cute also YES BABY IM BACK DOING REQUESTS!!🥹❤️ took a 2 day break (how dare I) and now I’m back, working on a Coraline / sex w a ghost inspired Spencer fic so be ready guysss also Tim Bradford content soon anyways to the fic!💋

w/c: 2K

THE BULLPEN BUZZED with its usual chaos — phones ringing, agents shuffling between desks, and voices blending into a low hum. You were perched elegantly at your desk, pretending to scroll through messages on your phone while discreetly watching Spencer across the room.

You knew how people saw you — effortlessly polished, always put together. Your glossy hair framed your face perfectly, your designer blouse tucked neatly into a fitted dress pants that showed off your figure without being unprofessional. Agents often paused mid-sentence when you walked by, some too intimidated to even meet your gaze.

But right now? You were watching him.

Spencer’s curls fell messily over his forehead as he scribbled furiously in his notebook, bottom lip caught between his teeth. His brow furrowed in that focused way you adored — like he was trying to solve the universe itself in that tiny notebook.

Adorable, you thought, your fingers drumming lazily on your desk.

That was when you heard it — the unmistakable snicker of two agents across the room.

“Can you believe this guy?” one of them muttered, voice just loud enough to carry. “He’s probably writing love notes to his library card.”

The other chuckled. “I bet he has dinner with his sock drawer — alphabetized, of course.”

Your gaze snapped toward them. Spencer, naturally oblivious, kept his head down, pretending not to hear — or maybe he genuinely didn’t care.

But you did.

It wasn’t just that they were mocking him — it was who they were mocking. Spencer, who always brought you coffee exactly how you liked it. Spencer, who explained things in a way that never made you feel dumb. Spencer, who once offered to walk you home after a late case, rambling nervously the entire way because he didn’t know how to flirt properly — but you secretly loved every second of it.

Nobody — nobody — humiliated Spencer Reid on your watch.

Game on.

“Morning,” you said sweetly, your voice carrying just enough sugar to make your presence impossible to ignore. You approached the agents’ desks with your coffee cup balanced delicately in hand — nails painted a glossy shade of crimson that matched your lipstick.

“Oh, sorry,” you added with faux surprise, setting your coffee down — directly on top of one of their open case files with a splash. The paper instantly darkened as the liquid seeped in, staining the pages in messy brown splotches. “Did I interrupt your little gossip session?”

Both men froze, their smug expressions faltering.

“Oops,” you said with a smile — sharp, intentional.

The taller of the two — Agent Neanderthal, as you’d mentally labeled him — scowled. “What’s your problem?”

“Oh, no problem,” you said airily, straightening your posture so you towered just enough to make him feel small. “I was just wondering…” You leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a low purr. “Should I mention your little trip to The Yellow Rose last Friday?”

His face twitched.

“I’m sure your wife would love to hear how ‘late paperwork’ somehow turned into a two-hour stay at a certain gentleman’s club.”

His face drained of color so fast you wondered if you should fetch him some water — if only to dump it on his head.

“And you…” You turned to the second agent, your gaze cutting through him like a blade. “I heard your performance review is coming up.” Your smile sharpened. “Did you really forget to file those evidence logs from last month?”

“That’s not even —”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your chest as if you were devastated by the revelation. “Oh no! I’d hate for this to reflect poorly on your career.”

His jaw tightened.

“So,” you added sweetly, stepping back and adjusting your silk blouse like you were bored already, “maybe next time you feel like mocking someone, you’ll remember you’re not exactly invincible.”

When you returned to your desk, you didn’t just sit — you practically posed. Perched elegantly on the corner of it, legs crossed just so, you let one stiletto dangle lazily from your feet — an effortless power move. Your silk blouse hugged your figure perfectly, hair sleek and immaculate, makeup flawless. You knew exactly how to command a room without saying a word — and today, that power was directed squarely at two very unfortunate agents.

You ensured you had a perfect line of sight to the pair — Agent Neanderthal and his equally unpleasant sidekick. Both were still stewing from your earlier encounter, heads down and lips tight. Good. Let them simmer.

Moments later, Penelope approached with her tablet in hand, her bright ensemble — purple heels, a floral dress, and glitter-covered glasses — making her impossible to miss. She wore a mischievous smile, her eyes practically sparkling with glee.

“Oh my gosh,” she gushed dramatically, loud enough to grab nearby attention. “Thank you for sending me that!”

“Sending you what?” you asked innocently, your voice light but your smile sharper than glass.

“You know,” Penelope grinned, practically bouncing on her heels. “The picture of the surveillance feed from last week?”

You bit back a smirk. “Ohhh… that.”

With a flourish, Penelope turned her tablet toward you — and there it was: a glorious shot of Agent Neanderthal, visibly drunk, stumbling out of a bar. His tie hung loosely around his neck, shirt half-untucked. The real gem, however, was the moment his foot caught on the curb — resulting in a spectacular faceplant onto the sidewalk.

“Oh wow,” you said, loud enough for your voice to carry across the bullpen. You tapped your chin thoughtfully, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realize he was so… graceful.”

The agents around you chuckled quietly.

One of the men in question froze, his face turning crimson as he locked eyes with you. His hand instinctively shot up to shield his face like that would somehow erase the memory.

“Oh, don’t be shy!” Penelope chimed in sweetly. “I’ve been thinking — maybe I should edit it to include some slow-motion effects. You know, like one of those sports fail videos?”

“I love that,” you agreed, grinning wider. “Oh! Maybe you can add some dramatic music too — something classy. Like ‘Ave Maria.’”

“Genius,” Penelope gasped, clicking her fingers like she’d just discovered a new planet.

By now, the nearby agents — including Derek — were openly snickering.

“Man,” Derek chuckled, “I didn’t think I’d live to see someone out-mean girl literally any Highschool drama.”

You shot him a wink. “What can I say? Some of us just have a gift.”

Out of the corner of your eye, Agent Neanderthal shot you a murderous glare. His face was still flushed, beads of sweat gathering at his hairline.

“Careful,” you said sweetly as you passed him on your way to refill your coffee. “Wouldn’t want you to trip again.”

The bullpen had settled into a lazy hum by late afternoon — phones quieter, conversations softer, agents slumped in their chairs as they chipped away at paperwork. The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and printer ink.

Spencer was still at his desk, flipping through his notebook as usual. His curls flopped over his forehead, obscuring his face as his pen scratched rapidly across the page. He was deep in thought — his brow furrowed, lips slightly parted.

Completely willingly oblivious, as always.

And while that boy-genius brain of his could memorize entire encyclopedias, he somehow never seemed to notice the way you lingered near his desk a little longer than necessary or how you always ended up next to him during briefings.

Today wasn’t going to be one of those days.

As you strolled past Agent Neanderthal’s desk, you paused just long enough to deliver your final strike.

“Oh,” you said sweetly, your voice carrying just loud enough to ensure everyone nearby could hear. “I mentioned to Strauss that you’d be perfect for re-cataloging the evidence archives this weekend. She seemed thrilled.”

His head snapped up so fast you were almost impressed he didn’t get whiplash. “You what?”

“You’re welcome,” you said with a bright, saccharine smile before turning on your heel.

Behind you, you heard a chorus of muffled snickers — Derek’s laugh unmistakable among them.

“Damn,” Derek muttered. “I almost feel bad for the guy.”

“Don’t,” Penelope chimed in from her perch by the coffee station, eyes gleaming. “He had it coming.”

Your heels clicked sharply against the floor as you walked back toward your desk, each step a silent victory lap.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Spencer said softly, his voice pulling you from your smug haze.

“Do what?” you asked, still feigning innocence.

“Y/N…” He sighed, stepping closer. His gaze flicked briefly toward Agent Neanderthal’s desk, where the man was still sulking. “I know what you did. The coffee spill, the pictures, the whole ‘Strauss’ thing. You didn’t have to —”

“Yes, I did,” you cut him off, your voice sharper than you intended.

Spencer blinked in surprise.

“I heard what they were saying,” you continued, your tone softer now. “You sit there, minding your business, doing your job — and they still have the nerve to make you feel like you don’t belong.”

“I don’t care what they think,” Spencer insisted. “It’s not worth —”

“Well, I care,” you shot back.

The words hung heavy in the air, your frustration bubbling just under the surface.

“I care because you’re… you’re you, Spencer.” You exhaled sharply, your arms crossing tightly over your chest. “And they don’t get to treat you like you’re some kind of joke.”

Spencer opened his mouth to respond, but you weren’t finished.

“I mean, what did you think I was gonna do?” you asked, your voice turning casual, almost amused. “You’re my favorite person. I’m obviously gonna step in.”

Spencer frowned slightly. “Wait… what?”

You blinked, confused by his confusion.

“Spencer,” you said with a laugh, “I’m in love with you. You knew that.”

The bullpen noise seemed to dull in an instant — a vacuum of silence swallowing the air between you.

Spencer’s expression twisted in slow motion — brows furrowing, mouth slightly agape, eyes wide with disbelief. “Wait… what?”

You frowned, the realization hitting you. “Oh my God… you didn’t know?”

“I…” Spencer stammered, still stuck somewhere between baffled and frozen. “No?”

“Oh.” You paused, trying to wrap your head around how he didn’t know. “I just… I thought you figured it out.”

“How?” Spencer asked incredulously, his hands gesturing wildly now. “How was I supposed to know that?”

You tilted your head, counting the obvious signs on your fingers. “I make you coffee every morning. I let you ramble about statistics even when I don’t care. I watched that entire chess documentary just so I could understand what you were talking about last month — which, by the way, was four hours long.”

Spencer’s lips twitched like he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

“I’ve been ridiculously obvious,” you continued. “Honestly, I thought Penelope was going to start making PowerPoint presentations about it.”

Spencer let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his curls. “I… I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do,” you said with a shrug, like you hadn’t just confessed your heart to him in the middle of the bullpen.

Spencer stared at you for a beat too long — like he was trying to process some unsolvable equation. Then, without warning, he stepped forward and kissed you.

His lips were warm and soft against yours — hesitant at first, like he was still waiting for you to push him away. But when you leaned in closer, his hand instinctively found your waist, fingers curling in your blouse like he couldn’t quite believe you were real.

You smiled against his lips, heart racing.

When you finally pulled back, Spencer’s face was flushed, his eyes still half-lidded like he was dazed.

“You know,” he murmured breathlessly, “I was… uh… trying to figure out how to tell you I liked you too.”

“Oh?” you grinned. “Well, I think I handled that better than you would have.”

“Yeah,” Spencer said softly, a warm smile spreading across his face. “You definitely did.”

“Well,” you teased, fingers curling around his perpetually crooked tie to straighten it, “I’m good at a lot of things.”

“Yeah,” Spencer repeated, gaze warm as it lingered on you. “You are.”

From across the room, Penelope’s voice rang out, far too smug to be accidental.

“I knew it!”

[bwabys-scenarios]

Hi bwaby ~ I’m new to your page and I love your yandere posts ^^ I’m reading the ones you’ve written for Kurapika. I saw your requests were open.

How do you think hxh yanderes would respond to their captive s/o having a panic/anxiety attacks when their captor tries to get intimate? How would they go about that?

🖤 ur work 🖤🖤🖤 thnx

Yandere!HXH respond to you panicking during intimacy

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

warnings: dubcon, panic attack, bad aftercare, forced cuddling, slight manipulation/coercion with Chrollo(it backfires), vomit in Chrollo’s, Feitan is emotionally distant, Kurapika is unstable

A/N: just a little note that none of my yanderes will ever rape the reader. I just include dubious consent because being captive blurs the lines of consent. Can you really consent when you’re captive? I don’t know, so I include it just in case, even though in my eyes reader is always consenting during these acts. I’m not comfortable with writing out rape, so this situation is the farthest I go.

characters included: Kurapika, Leorio, Chrollo, Feitan, Illumi

Yandere NSFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @pannacottababy

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

Kurapika

First of all, Kurapika is VERY hesitant to initiate any intimacy after he takes you away. He wants you to get used to your captivity before he starts anything.

Kurapika is also the only yandere on this list that won’t be overly pushy in terms of physical contact most if the time, and honestly he’s okay if you never love him again… even if he really wants you to love him and give him lots of affection. He knows he did something unforgivable by taking you away from your life, and he’s willing to be hated by you if it means you’ll be safe.

Now, when you do eventually initiate some kind of intimacy he is over the moon. He would do anything for you, desperate to please you and make the experience as good as possible. Kurapika wants your love, your physical touch, and he wants it willingly.

So when he initiates, kissing along your neck with his hand gently rubbing your clothed cunt, he stops immediately when you start to panic. “My angel? Are you okay?”

He’s quick to pull away and give you space. His hands shake and he feels guilt and panic rise in his own chest. Did he just ruin all of the progress the two of you had?

But you calm down after a little, and lean against him. “I… I’m sorry, I just… I got really anxious.”

He’s quick to wrap his arms around you, tentatively smoothing out your hair. “Don’t apologize… shh, just relax. We don’t have to do anything.”

Kurapika spends the rest of the night just a bit unstable, terrified that he’ll do something to upset you. He just loves you so much and he doesn’t want to lose your love and affection when he just got it back. The next day he makes sure to pamper you more than usual, and he’s almost a bit clingy… as if he’s scared he’ll lose you.

Leorio

He’s pretty handsy, though most of his touches are just affectionate in nature. When you cuddle, he has his hand in your ass or thigh, kneading at the soft flesh.

Leorio likes to have you in his lap as often as possible, where he can move you as he pleases as cover you in kisses as he holds you as close as possible.

He’s eager to get back to sex after he takes you, though he won’t push… too much. Leorio is just super clingy and you’re already sitting pretty on his lap, the only thing separating you from his is that pretty skirt you’re wearing!

It was a normal day, with you sitting in his lap after he tugged you his way. But this time, instead of the usual soft squish he’d give your thigh or kisses to your cheek or the top of your head, Leorio started moving you back and forth against the bulge firming in his pants.

You instantly froze, feeling his warm breath on your neck. When you began to panic and cry, Leorio paused for a moment. “Princess? Something wrong?”

When you started to struggle, he gently set you down. The air was thick and heavy with tension and awkward energy. He scratched the back of his neck, his boner gone. “You alright?”

You shook your head. “I… I don’t want to, Leorio… I’m scared…”

He felt his heart break a little, but he was quick to reach out and gently ruffle your hair. “Don’t be scared… I won’t… do anything to you that you don’t want…”

But it felt a bit hypocritical, considering he did steal you from your old life against your will. Leorio had standards though, and one of those was not assaulting people.

That night, he was way less clingy than usual, giving you some space and time to process things… but you joined him in bed for snuggles later.

Chrollo

He kept telling you he wanted to make your first time with him special, that he’d buy you flowers and pretty lingerie to wear. He even suggested getting a nicer hotel than usual, which was shocking because the hotels you usually stayed in with him were beyond luxurious.

So when the special night came, he took you out to a fancy dinner, letting you order whatever you wanted. You had become very complacent, accepting the fact you’d never be able to escape him… not even in death.

So you are your food, and you bathed before putting on the set of lingerie he surely paid a high price for, and sat on the bed, waiting for him to get back from a meeting with some phantom troupe members that were in town.

The wait already had you anxious, but the way he kept going on and on about how perfect he made everything and how much effort he put into this night put a lot of pressure on you to do well.

And that was on purpose. He wanted you to know just how much he had done for you… how much he craved and adored you. With him, you would be endlessly pampered and loved… all you had to do was be a good girl and do as he said.

So by the time he got back, you were already anxiously fidgeting with your lacy black lingerie, biting your lip.

Now… he didn’t want to make you anxious, just a little nervous. He thought it would be cute to see you squeak like a timid little mouse as he took you… he didn’t want you to stiffly lie down and tear up when he unbuttoned his shirt.

And he hadn’t expected you to throw up from the stress of it all.

He felt a bit guilty, you were crying and muttering apologies as he called for room service, trying to clean it up yourself. Had he instilled that much fear in you that you shook in terror at the thought of upsetting you? That’s not what Chrollo wanted… despite his sly and manipulative nature, he wanted you to genuinely love him and see him as someone that protected and took care of you.

So once you calmed down a little, he pulled you in and snuggled you, kissing the top of your head. “I..: apologize. We’ll do this at your pace.”

You couldn’t really break away from his grip… and you didn’t want to anger him, so you let him hold you close and gently rock you.

Feitan

Feitan already is absolute garbage with intimacy, so it’s rare he’ll initiate anything. He’s both insecure and emotionally distant, but also longs for your affection and physical touch.

But he also HATES physical touch… so being his darling is a confusing experience where you’re constantly walking on eggshells.

The rare instances when he tries to be intimate with you, you almost leap with joy. He’s the only other human you have physical contact with, and you’ve almost gone crazy without touch and affection.

He’s very insecure and sensitive to rejection, so when he touches you, even if it’s just subpar, you praise him endlessly with soft whimpers and moans. He’s pretty skilled with his fingers considering he was a virgin before he met you.

So when he’s got his hands on your hips and ready to push his cock into your pretty pussy, instead of the usual happy whines you make… you instead whimper and shy away from him.

He’s tortured many people, so he can recognize the signs of a panic attack easily. You don’t know what came over you, but you just started to break down, crying and rocking yourself.

Feitan froze up, not knowing what to do. He’s not used to comforting others, and he already feels the harsh sting of rejection from your reaction. Was he that bad?

But… he’s able to push that away. He puts a blanket over your naked form and gently rubs your back while looking the other way.

“… don’t have to. Just say when don’t want it.”

And that’s all you get. He doesn’t kiss away your tears or clean you up… but it’s a big step forward. For Feitan, comforting another human being is hard, so the fact he’s trying for you proves that you mean something to him.