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gallusrostromegalus · 1 month

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Move To A Darker Place

This is a story of Man Vs. Machine.

---

Last March, my father attempted to file his Taxes.

My beloved father is a Boomer. Unlike most Boomers, my father is rather handy with technology because he was one of the people that had a not-insignificant hand in Developing a hell of a lot of it. He was studying Computer Science at Cal Poly before the computer science degree existed. I have many fond childhood memories of skipping through the aisles of various electronic and computer part warehouses while Dad described something that either terrified the staff or made them worship him as a God. He taught himself how to use his smartphone. Internationally.

So when he saw the option to file digitally with the IRS through the “ID.me” program, he leapt at the chance to celebrate the Federal Government finally entering the Digital Age.

It was all going swimmingly for about six hours, until he was ready to file and the system told him that it needed to verify his identity.

“Very Well.” said my father, a man unafraid of talking to himself and getting something out of the conversation. “It wouldn’t do for me to get someone else’s return.”

The System told him that it needed him to take a “Digital Image ID”.

a.k.a: A Selfie.

“A-ha!” Dad beams. Dad is very good at taking selfies. He immediately pulled out his phone, snapped one, and tried to upload it.

Please log into your Id.me Account and use the provided app to submit your Digital Image ID. The System clarified.

“Oh. You should have said so.” Dad pouted, but used his phone to log onto the ID.me account, do the six security verification steps and double-checked that the filing looked the same as it did on the desktop, gave the IRS like nine permissions on his phone, and held up the camera to take his Federal Privacy Invasion Selfie.

Please align your face to the indicated grid. Said The System, pulling up a futuristic green-web-of-polygons approximation.

“Ooh, very Star Trek. Gene Roddenberry would HATE this!” Dad said cheerfully, aligning his face to the grid. My father is a bit… cavalier, when it comes to matters of personal information and federal government, because he’s been on FBI watchlists since the late 60’s when he was protesting The Vietnam War and Ronald Regan before he’d broken containment. Alas.

Anyway, there is very little information the federal government does not have on him already, but he’s as good at stalking the FBI as they are at stalking him, and had worked out a solution: He has something approaching a friendship with the local Federal Agent (Some guy named “Larry”. Allegedly), and got Larry hooked on Alternative Histories and Dad’s collection of carefully-researched “there is very likely buried treasure here” stories, and Larry is loath to bother his favorite Historical Fanfiction author too much.

But I digress.

After thinking for a minute, The System came back with an Error Message. Please remove glasses or other facial obstructions.

And here is where the real trouble began.

See, my father wears glasses that do substantially warp the appearance of his face, because he is so nearsighted that he is legally blind without them. His natural focal point is about 4 inches in front of his nose. While Dad can still take a selfie because he (approximately) knows where his phone is if it’s in his hand, he cannot see the alignment grid.

He should ask someone to take it for him! I hear the audience say. Yes, that would be the sane and reasonable thing to do, but Dad was attempting to do taxes at his residence in Fort Collins, while his immediate family was respectively in Denver, Texas and Canada. He tried calling our neighbors, who turned out to be in Uganda.

He looked down at the dog, Arwen, and her little criminal paws that can open doorknobs, but not operate cell phones.

She looked back at him, and farted.

“Well, I’ll give it a try, but if it gives me too much trouble, I’ll call Larry, and Larry can call the IRS about it.” Dad told her.

She continued to watch him. Arwen is an Australian Kelpie (a type of cattle-herding dog), going on 14 years old, deaf as a post and suffering from canine dementia now, but she still retains her natural instinct to Micromanage. She was also trained as a therapy dog, and even if she can’t hear my dad, still recognizes the body language of a man setting himself up for catastrophe.

So, squinting in the late afternoon light next to the back door, Dad attempted to line his face up with a grid he could only sort-of see, and took A Federal Selfie.

The System thought about it for a few moments.

Image Capture Failed: Insufficient Contrast. The System replied. Please move to a darker place.

“...Huh.” Dad frowned. “Alright.”

He moved to the middle of his office, away from the back door, lit only by the house lighting and indirect sunlight, and tried again.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“What?” Dad asked the universe in general.

“Whuff.” Arwen warned him against sunk costs.

Dad ignored her and went into the bathroom, the natural habitat of the selfie. Surely, only being lit by a light fixture that hadn’t been changed since Dad was attempting to warn everyone about Regan would be suitably insufficient lighting for The System. It took some negotiating, because that bathroom is “Standing Room Only” not “Standing And Holding Your Arms Out In Front Of You Room”. He ended up taking the selfie in the shower stall.

As The System mulled over the latest attempt, Arwen shuffled over and kicked open the door to watch.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move to a Darker Place.

“Do you mean Spiritually?” Dad demanded.

“Whuff.” Arwen cautioned him again.

Determined to succeed, or at least get a different error message that may give him more information, Dad entered The Downstairs Guest Room. It is the darkest room in the house, as it is in the basement, and only has one legally-mandated-fire-escape window, which has blinds. Dad drew those blinds, turned off the lights and tried AGAIN.

Image Capture Failed. Please Move To A Darker Place.

“DO YOU WANT ME TO PHOTOGRAPH MYSELF INSIDE OF A CAVE??” Dad howled.

“WHUFF!” Arwen reprimanded him from under the pull-out bed in the room. It’s where she attempts to herd everyone when it’s thundering outside, so the space is called her ‘Safety Cave’.

Dad frowned at the large blurry shape that was The Safety Cave.

“Why not?” he asked, the prelude to many a Terrible Plan. With no small amount of spiteful and manic glee, Dad got down onto the floor, and army-crawled under the bed with Arwen to try One Last Time. Now in near-total darkness, he rolled on his side to be able to stretch his arms out, Arwen slobber-panting in his ear, and waited for the vague green blob of the Facial grid to appear.

This time, when he tapped the button, the flash cctivated.

“GOD DAMN IT!” Dad shouted, dropping the phone and rubbing his eyes and cursing to alleviate the pain of accidentally flash-banging himself. Arwen shuffled away from him under the bed, huffing sarcastically at him.

Image Capture Failed. Please move to a darker place.

“MOTHERFU- hang on.” Dad squinted. The System sounded strange. Distant and slightly muffled.

Dad squinted really hard, and saw the movement of Arwen crawling out from under the bed along the phone’s last known trajectory.

“ARWEN!” Dad shouted, awkwardly reverse-army crawling out from under the bed, using it to get to his feet and searching for his glasses, which had fallen out of his pocket under the bed, so by the time he was sighted again, Arwen had had ample time to remove The Offending Device.

He found her out in the middle of the back yard, the satisfied look of a Job Well Done on her face. She did not have the phone.

“Arwen.” Dad glared. It’s a very good glare. Dad was a teacher for many years and used it to keep his class in order with sheer telepathically induced embarrassment, and his father once glared a peach tree into fecundity.

Arwen regarded him with the casual interest a hurricane might regard a sailboat tumbling out of its wake. She is a force of nature unto herself and not about to be intimidated by a half-blind house ape. She also has cataracts and might not be able to make out the glare.

“I GIVE UP!” Dad shouted, throwing his hands in the air and returning to the office to write to the IRS that their selfie software sucks ass. Pleased that she had gotten her desired result, Arwen followed him in.

To Dad’s immense surprise, the computer cheerfully informed him that his Federally Secure Selfie had been accepted, and that they had received and were now processing his return!

“What the FUCK?” Dad glared. “Oh well. If I’ve screwed it up, Larry can call me.”

---

I bring this up because recently, Dad received an interesting piece of mail.

It was a letter from the IRS, addressed to him, a nerve-wracking thing to recessive at the best of times. Instead of a complaint about Dad’s Selfie Skills, it was a letter congratulating him on using the new ID.me System. It thanked him for his help and expressed hopes he would use it again next year, and included the selfie that The System had finally decided to accept.

“You know, my dad used to complain about automation.” Dad sighed, staring at the image. “Incidentals my boy! My secretary saves the state of California millions of dollars a year catching small errors before they become massive ones! He’d say. Fought the human resources board about her pay every year. I used to think he was overestimating how bad machines were and underestimating human error, but you know? He was right.”

He handed me the image.

My father was, technically, in the image. A significant amount of the bottom right corner is taken up by the top of his forehead and silver hair. Most of the image, the part with the facial-recognition markers on it, was composed of Arwen’s Alarmed and Disgusted Doggy face.

“Oh no!” I cackled. “Crap, does this mean you have to call the IRS and tell them you’re not a dog?”

“Probably.” Dad sighed. “I know who I’m gonna bother first though.” he said, taking out his phone (Dad did find his phone a few hours after Arwen absconded with it when mom called and the early spinach started ringing).

“Hey Larry!” Dad announced to the local federal agent. “You’re never gonna believe this. My dog filed my taxes!”

Larry considered this for a moment. “Is this the dog that stole my sandwich? Out of my locked car?” he asked suspiciously.

“The very same.” Dad grinned.

“Hm. Clever Girl.” Federal Agent Larry sighed. “I figured it was only a matter of time before she got into tax fraud.”

---

I'm a disabled artist making my living writing these stories. If you enjoy my stories, please consider supporting me on Ko-fi or Pre-ordering my Family Lore Book on Patreon. Thank you!

#Family Lore #Dogs #arwen #Arwen the Crime Dog #Taxes #Ronald Regan mention (derogatory)#long post under the cut #this one is funny this time #I could really use some extra tip money this month

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sundrop-writes · 8 months

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Meddle About

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader

‘Cause it's not just a figure of speech - you got me down on my knees.

It's gettin' harder to b r e a t h e .

Summary:

You hate it when Morgan teases Reid. So when Morgan says that you are Reid's 'Mommy' - you verbally fire back without even thinking about it.

Reid vastly overthinks it.

So much so that he ends up calling you Mommy by mistake. And you definitely don't hate the sound of that word coming off his lips.

Sub!Spencer Reid x Dom!Fem!Reader. Co-Workers to Lovers. Smut. Set during Season One.

Word Count: 6,300

Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general smut fic - porn with some plot; dom/sub dynamics (but this isn't a pre-discussed dom/sub relationship, the characters just fall into these roles naturally), Spencer is submissive and the reader is dominant; the main theme is Mommy kink - Spencer discovers that he has a Mommy kink after a joke that Morgan makes, referring to the reader character as Spencer's Mommy; Spencer calls the reader 'Mommy' and the reader also refers to herself with that title; the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina (and breasts); it could be interpreted that the reader has larger breasts/is plus sized (but I think anyone of any size could enjoy this fic); the reader is part of the BAU; this is meant to take place during season one (baby Spence my beloved) but there are no other major canon events mentioned and the case being discussed is one that I have made up; some very background typical elements of Criminal Minds - murder, killing, systemic vicimization of women/violence from men towards women (passing mention of bodies being consumed by wild animals); the reader and Spencer fuck while on a case (but they aren't endangering anyone's lives from lack of their attention, so it's fine); mentions of potential injuries from a car accident (theoretical - doesn't actually happen during the fic); very slight threads of Morgan x Reader (mentions of Morgan being attracted to the reader - it could be one-sided); very passing mention of Reid having breeding kink (doesn't take place during the fic, just one of his thoughts); for the actual smut section: this could be interpreted as virgin!Spencer but that's not explicitly stated here (at most, this is just inexperienced!Spencer) (the reader is definitely way more sexually experienced than him); praise kink (we all known Spencer is so eager to be praised); mentions of breastfeeding - Morgan makes a joke about the reader breastfeeding Reid, which later turns into faux breastfeeding kink (the reader doesn't actually lactate, but she lets Spencer suck on her tits and calls it breastfeeding); the reader calls Spencer: 'baby', 'good boy',; descriptions of subspace - but it's not specifically called 'subspace' in the text; thigh humping - Spencer humps the reader's thigh; cumming in pants (Spencer); multiple orgasms/overstimulation (Spencer receiving); handjob - the reader jacks Spencer off while he is sensitive after his first orgasm; using lube as cum; dumbification kink - the reader calls Spencer 'dumb baby' and generally enjoys seeing his intellect drop the more turned on he becomes (Spencer also likes being called this); technically the reader doesn't get to cum, but she gets turned on from treating Spencer like the good boy that he is (and this is more about him). I think that's everything.

A/N: This was directly inspired by the scene from Reid's birthday party, where Morgan says 'Mommy to the rescue!' (talking about JJ) and then Spencer says '...Mommy?' and it seems like he is discovering his Mommy kink in real time. Especially because he is then trapped between Elle and JJ and he makes direct eye contact with their boobs, and he just has such a look of scared kink realization in his eyes. I considered copying that moment exactly and just replacing JJ with the reader character, but this seemed like more fun lmao. I had so much fun writing this and I think this is one of my best fics in a while. I hope you guys enjoy it!!

...

Generally, you hated being stuck with grunt work.

You knew that it was all part of the job - an important part of it. Paperwork, side interviews, background checks. Sifting through someone’s apartment looking for aspects of what kind of person they were based on their everyday life.

But you thrived more on being right in the middle of things. You preferred interacting with suspects, chasing people down, harsh confrontation.

Gideon said that you were overly controlling, impatient, brutally honest - that you had an ‘abrasive personality’ that put most men off. But that was why he often brought you into interrogations with male suspects. Many of the people you caught - men with superiority complexes who targeted the weak to make themselves feel powerful - they hated that you weren’t intimidated by them. That aspect of abrasion between you and the suspects often brought out a lot of information - things they spewed out trying to intimidate you.

But you weren’t needed on that front today.

No - instead, you were doing grunt work. The kind of work that made you impatient and generally aggravated.

The only upside was that you got to do it with Spencer.

He was one of the only men that voluntarily worked so closely with you so often, because he wasn’t intimidated by you. He took orders from you very well and naturally fell under your authority, bringing a natural chemistry to your partnership when you worked with him. Plus - his seemingly endless stream of ‘fun facts’ was like listening to the radio, which did help to soothe your boredom during these kinds of mindless tasks.

You were on a case in Texas. Five women raped and tortured before having their bodies hung from a tree and consumed by cotoyes that the UnSub knew lived in the area. Since police had closed in on him, he had gone on the run. He had killed three more women since fleeing, while leaving no clues as to what his ultimate endgame would be or where he would be going next.

Hotch sent you and Reid to find that out while the rest of the team worked victimology and profiled the scenes of the most recent murders, following the trail he was leaving.

After spending hours sifting through the suspect’s house, looking for any small clue about where he might be going - you came up empty. When you touched base with Hotch, he told you that you and Reid would be going to visit the suspect’s ex-wife - who lived four hours away. You needed to interview her to see if she could give you any further insight to the man, and perhaps - beat him to the house if she was the ultimate target.

(A lot of the victims looked like her, and it couldn’t really be a coincidence.)

You knew that lives were at risk, and it was juvenile of you, but all you heard was: long, boring drive. Boring day. You hoped that Reid would be good company through it.

Now, you were waiting outside of the police station in the bureau-issued SUV, waiting for Morgan to come and give you the file with the ex-wife’s address and contact information.

“Did you know that over forty-six percent of Texans own a gun? Texas is second only to Montana in registered gun ownership, where over sixty-six percent of citizens proudly tote their right to bear arms.” Reid told you, continuing to look over the case files that were sitting in his lap.

When you looked over toward him to reply to this odd factoid, your mind got caught up on something else.

“Reid, come on, take your feet off the dashboard!” You told him, reaching over to gently smack his knee, trying to encourage his legs down from the awkward position.

It bothered you for several reasons - the idea that he would leave shoe prints on the dashboard, which was minor and cosmetic, but still annoying. And the fact that if the car did happen to get hit head-on, the air-bag would explode out and push his knees into his chest, causing his shattered leg bones to pierce his organs and possibly kill him. (At the very least, he would never walk again.)

Speaking of which:

“And put your seatbelt on!” You barked, now noticing that he wasn’t wearing it past all of the files he had piled into his lap. “You of all people should know how many deaths are caused by not wearing a seatbelt.”

Spencer opened his mouth to spout out this exact statistic, but before he could get the words out, another voice entered the conversation.

“Aw, Reid, listen to your Mommy.”

You were almost startled by Morgan’s voice coming from the open driver’s side window so suddenly. His appearance there as if out of nowhere was so jarring that you couldn’t get caught up on the way he had called you Reid’s Mommy. Your head whipped toward Morgan so quickly that you didn’t notice the flash across Spencer’s features - worry, dawning. You didn’t take note of the way he rushed to comply with putting on his seatbelt. As if he was rushing to please you, even unconsciously.

“I bet if you’re a good boy, she might even breastfeed you when you get there.”

Morgan then pursed his lips and made loudly suckling noises, clearly imitating breastfeeding in what he thought was a comedic way.

Again - glaring at the muscled man through the open window, you didn’t see Spencer’s reaction. You didn’t see the way his large, glassy eyes flickered to your breasts (only emphasized by your own seatbelt crossed over the center of your chest) before he forced himself to focus on the files in front of him so that he wouldn’t feel so caught.

“Shut up.” You told Morgan, your voice so commanding and firm that his simple order was enough to get him to stop his antics.

“And give me the address already.” You held out your hand expectantly, and Morgan handed you the file, which you placed onto the center console.

Then, you turned back to him for one last point, determined to have the final word in the conversation.

“Besides, we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts, anyway. Just because you stare while wearing sunglasses, doesn’t mean I don’t notice. My eyes are up here, pal.” You told him sharply.

He let out a scoff at this, and rolled his eyes behind his dark frames - but he made no clever comeback.

You had successfully bested him. And with that knowledge, you rolled up the window and left him standing dumbly in the parking lot as you sped off.

…

You pulled over later to put the address into the GPS system, and you let out a long-winded groan when you found that it was more than four hours away. Four hours and twenty five minutes.

So you pulled over again to get gas and stocked up on snacks, and you were surprised that Reid wasn’t giving you some lesson about the colloquial use of ‘soda’ and ‘pop’ (thinking that you hadn’t listened the other ten times when he had gone on the same rambling point about linguistics and how language evolves).

He was being far too quiet for your liking.

But he was keeping his eyes glued to the files, and you guessed that he was churning over something in that big brain of his, like he usually was.

You were entirely surprised when the next time he spoke - it wasn’t about the case at all.

“How - how do you know that Morgan likes your breasts?” He asked, his voice low and mousy, looking straight ahead as he fidgeted with his hands in his lap.

“What?” You gaped, the word flying out of your mouth as your brain was utterly slow to process what he had just said.

Hearing Spencer use the word ‘breasts’ was jarring, but somehow utterly adorable. You found it stirring a slight heat within you. Especially because he was still so shy. The whole thing made you want to pin him down and force the shyness out of him.

Spencer felt the need to further explain himself.

“When - when you were talking to him, you said: ‘we both know that you’re the one who’s got an obsession with my breasts.’” He said, repeating back what you had said, word for word, using that perfect memory of his.

You wondered if that’s what he had been doing, sitting there in his seat so silently for the past hour of the car ride - going over the conversation again and again in his head, trying to make sense of it. And because he couldn’t make any sense of it by himself, now he was consulting you.

Again, you found it so utterly adorable.

“Morgan didn’t deny it. So - was it a hypothesis based on something, or did you just call him out hoping that you weren’t wrong?” Reid continued, sparing only a singular glance in your direction, a look that you caught out of the corner of your eye with your gaze still mostly focused ahead on the road.

You found it intensely cute that he was using the word ‘hypothesis’ in this situation. You wondered if he ever turned it off - the textbook big words and the intellect that he always carried himself with. You wondered if you could make him turn it off. You wondered if there was any situation where Spencer Reid could be as stupid as any other man - chasing a bone, desperate to get his nut off.

For the first time ever - you imagined Spencer Reid underneath you, blabbering nonsense, begging for release with your hand around his cock as you pumped him, red and aching, so slick in your palm. Desperate, empty-headed, beautifully stupid.

(See, this was what happened when you were forced to do grunt work. You got bored. And when you got bored - you had to entertain yourself somehow.)

“It was a pretty well-informed hypothesis.” You replied. Now that Spencer had brought the topic up, you certainly weren’t going to shy away from the discussion. “Morgan often brings up my sex life, and wants to engage in detailed discussions about my sexual encounters with me. So I assume that he spends a fair amount of time thinking about me in a sexual way.”

Reid let out a choked-off noise at this.

You continued.

“Plus, he’s always staring down my top. He’s not exactly subtle.”

“You - you actually notice that kind of thing?” He chirped, his voice becoming a few octaves higher as worry flooded him.

You bit your lip, suppressing a grin.

Of course, you had noticed the times that Spencer stared at your breasts as well. He was even less subtle about it than Morgan was. You didn’t mind it when he did it, because you knew that Spencer wasn’t exactly casanova. He didn’t have a different girl every other week like Morgan did, so taking a glance down your shirt when he passed you a morning coffee was probably about as much action as he got.

Secretly, letting him get away with it was your gift to him.

“Don’t worry about it, baby.” You told him, the pet name slipping out mindlessly as you reached over and gently patted his knee as a form of reassurance.

This movement unintentionally drew his eyes toward your chest, especially in his desperation to look anywhere but your face, not wanting to make eye contact with you. But he found his eyes glued to the swell of your breasts once again - hating how perfect they looked, even through the simple cotton shirt and plain bra that you wore.

“Sorry, Mommy.” The word slipped out before he could even consciously process it. “Sorry!”

Spencer raised a hand to smack his own face at lightning speed, and slumped down into his seat in embarrassment.

You bit your lip to suppress a grin. It stirred a filthy heat in your belly. But you knew that Spencer likely needed a while to sit with this and wouldn’t want to talk about it - not yet. So you reached over and turned on the radio, letting the music fill the space so that the silence wasn’t so awkward and gutting.

…

Spencer didn’t talk for the entirety of the rest of the car ride, which didn’t surprise you.

When you finally arrived at the ex-wife’s house, his hands were shaking with nerves as he tried to unlatch his seatbelt. You probably should have just left him alone to struggle, but an evil spark, likely fueled by the boredom of the day, flared up inside of you. You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over the console, very purposefully showing off your breasts as you gently pushed his hands away and undid the belt for him.

“Here, let Mommy get that for you.” You said, distinct teasing on your breath as you mumbled the words into his ear.

Spencer huffed out a deep sigh and collapsed back into his seat, and pushed his hair out of his face in frustration. But he didn’t say anything more as you gathered the files in preparation for the interview.

He only spoke when you moved to get out of the car.

“Look, I-” He began a half assed explanation, and you easily cut him off.

“You let Morgan get in your head too much.” You told him with a chuckle, opening your door and getting out.

But as he forced himself to follow you with numb limbs - he knew that this definitely wasn’t all Morgan’s fault.

…

The ex-wife didn’t know much.

She described the marriage as hell - the suspect exhibited all the typical behaviors as a husband that they would have expected. He hated women, and he wanted full control over his wife at the time, which eventually led down the path of divorce. They had to sell the house they had bought together, but neither of them had moved out of Texas since. But he hadn’t contacted her in years.

She had two young kids from a new relationship, and when the woman stepped out to take a call, you picked one of them up to soothe his cries, hushing him gently while you rubbed his back.

Because of this, Spencer found himself even more dizzy and confused.

He knew that it was Frueadian - some deep, misguided part of his psychology - something broken and missing inside of him because of his own fractured childhood.

But seeing you being so sweet with a kid, especially after the day he’d had - he wasn’t sure if he wanted to be your baby, or if he wanted to shoot his cum so deep inside you that it would ensure he could give you one.

(Ultimately, he knew that it was likely both - and that didn’t answer any questions for him. It just gave him far more questions.)

…

Even though the ex-wife couldn’t give you guys much more than you already knew, Hotch wanted you and Spencer to stay close by in case the suspect decided to make his ex-wife the end game. The two of you would be able to make it to her first if she called for help.

So you and Spencer had dinner at a random local barbeque place off the highway and Spencer still didn’t talk much through it, other than posing some theories about the case. Even though he was a bit more talkative, he still refused to look at you - he stared down at his plate the whole time. Though whenever he did look up, you noticed that his eyes lingered on your chest - and he still wouldn’t look you in the eye.

By the time the bill came around and the two of you were ready to leave, you knew exactly what you had to do.

…

Spencer waited by the car with his bag while you checked in and got a motel room (needing to stay in town, you got a room for the night). When you came back, you handed him the room key and then moved to get your bag out of the car.

“Do… you already have yours?” He asked quietly.

“Hmm?” You hummed in reply, slinging the strap of your go-bag over your shoulder before you closed the back door and used the remote to lock up the car.

“Your room key?”

You suppressed another grin.

“I only got one room.” You told him. “You don’t mind sharing with me, right?”

You gave him a purposeful look - looked at him through your lashes, bit your lip slightly, and subtly squeezed your breasts together with your upper arms, emphasizing them. You knew exactly what you were doing to him, but hopefully it seemed subtle.

“I - uh - no.” Spencer stuttered. “It’s fine. We can share.” He gave a grin, not wanting to appear upset, even though his entire body was racked with nerves.

Spencer followed you to the room and he fumbled with the key with shaking hands for a moment before he sighed and then handed it to you.

His insides quaked when he saw that there was only one bed.

He wasn’t sure if he should say anything about it. The two of you had slept in the same room before, but you had never shared a bed before. Sure, you had slept near each other before. He had accidentally fallen asleep on your shoulder on the plane or vice versa. But you had never crawled into bed together with the intention of sleeping together.

And yes, just the entendre behind it made Reid’s head spin.

He had a heavy knot in his gut, and hatefully - a distinct stirring in his crotch. He could only imagine how embarrassing it would be for you to wake up and see him compromised in some way. Or god forbid, if you caught him moaning in his sleep because of unconscious dreams that he couldn’t stop - for you to think that he was some kind of dirty sex pervert because of it.

He felt an overwhelming need to clear the air overtake him. He had no clue how to broach the subject, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to spend the night like this. He wouldn’t be able to sleep with this anxiety hanging over his head.

He studied you carefully as you sat down on the edge of the bed, ditching your bag off to the side and heaving out a tired sigh as you began taking off your shoes.

Spencer put down his own bag and then stood there, fidgeting nervously as he searched for words.

“I - uh - I am sorry about earlier.” He mumbled out the beginnings of an apology. “What Morgan said was stupid, and I-”

“I don’t think it was stupid.”

You let out a chuckle, and reached up the back of your shirt. Spencer found himself frozen, his eyes tracing your every moment as you unhooked your bra underneath your shirt and then moved to maneuver the straps out from your short sleeves while you kept talking.

“I think he had a point.” You added on. “Good boys should get a reward. And I think you were fairly good today. You didn’t eat all your veggies at dinner, but you kept your feet off the dashboard and you were quiet during the car ride. You definitely get points for being patient during such a long trip, baby.”

Your voice smoothed into a soothing tone, that word - baby - melting like butter over your tongue in a way that made Spencer’s knees wobble. He hadn’t known it until right now, but you calling him a ‘good boy’ and listing off such mundane things he had done that made him worthy of a reward fired off sparks inside of his brain.

A breath choked off inside of his throat as you stood up off the bed and peeled your bra completely out from under your shirt. Somehow it was one of the sexiest things he had ever seen, revealing the hard peaks of your nipples and the beautiful natural teardrop shape of your breasts to him through the cotton fabric.

Spencer wanted to speak, but his tongue felt so heavy and dry inside of his mouth. He knew that he was staring at your chest so blatantly now, but he couldn’t peel his eyes away. He couldn’t even feel ashamed anymore.

That dull tingle in his crotch had turned into a full on stinging interest, and he unconsciously pulled at the fabric of his pants, trying to loosen some of the tension that was growing, not even considering how it might look to you - him dumbly reaching for his crotch to make it look looser when his hardening bulge was becoming more obvious by the second.

It was one of the most ‘caveman’ things he had ever done in front of you - standing there with his mouth hanging slightly agape, pulling at his crotch without caring how it looked. You definitely wanted more, wanted to see how dumb he could get. How far you could make him devolve.

“So what do you say, baby boy?” You hummed, stepping close into his personal space now, causing him to get a whiff of your perfume - something that was only a dull trace after such a long day, but still smelled so good. “Do you want Mommy to breastfeed you? Do you wanna suck on my tits as your reward?”

You gently ran a thumb across his cheek, and paired with the words, Spencer’s brain short-circuited.

He knew realistically that you weren’t actually offering to breastfeed him. There was no evidence in your life to say that your body could actually support the production of milk currently - but you were offering to let him play pretend. To suck on your tits with a very sexual air, to call you Mommy without the teasing humiliation behind it that Morgan had hinted at (or maybe Spencer liked that humiliation, he wasn’t even sure). (He hadn’t even known before this morning that he liked the idea of calling you Mommy, but here he was).

All he could conjure in response was the dumbest, non-human sound.

“Nngh.”

It was a grunt from the back of his throat - too much blood swelling to his cock all at once and too much direct attention from you making him dizzy.

You giggled quietly.

“Come on, baby. Just say the word. And Mommy will give you everything you need.”

Spencer inhaled sharply. At this point, he was desperate to get some oxygen to his brain.

His mind was racing, chanting out:

‘Yes! God, yes! I want it so badly, Mommy! I want anything you’ll give me. I need you. I need you so badly.’

But all his lips could form in the wake of such dizzying lust was:

“Please.”

“Good boy.” You sighed.

You used a hand on his chin to tilt his face up to meet yours, and you consumed him in a kiss - he was hungry and eager to meet your touch, moaning loudly into your mouth, his hands racing to touch you now, rushing up to grip on your hips in the most utterly needy way. He balled the fabric of your shirt in his fists, like he couldn’t get enough of you - like he was afraid you would dissolve away if he let go of you for even a second.

It was cute, to say the least.

You only let the kiss last for a moment, though. You pulled away to a disappointed whine from Spencer, which you quietly hushed.

“Hey, it’s okay baby.” You soothed him. “Come here. Mommy’s gonna take good care of you.”

You lead him toward the bed, getting rid of his tie in the process, and Spencer stepped out of his shoes along the way. You slid onto the bed and laid up on the pillows on your back, Spencer clumsily following you, crawling on all fours. The two of you had barely started, but he was full-on panting now, racing to catch his breath while his blood hammered through his veins.

He watched on with eager curiosity while you got comfortable, fluffing the pillow under your head before you then reached down and pulled up your shirt. You pulled the fabric to sit up under your chin, finally revealing your gorgeous breasts to him.

If he was lost for words before, then he had receded back to a total neanderthal now.

His mouth fell open and his salivary glands started working overtime as his eyes raked hungrily over your chest - enjoying the pure beauty of the fatty mounds, striped with zig-zagging stretch marks and completed by your hard peaked nipples.

“Here, come on, baby.”

You had to remind Spencer what the goal was, guiding him into place with a hand on the back of his head. You helped ease his body to lay on top of yours as he relaxed into you - and his mouth finally found its rightful place on your breast. He became greedy, suctioning hard on your nipple as though he might actually get something out of it.

Truthfully, he did get something out of this.

It definitely wasn’t any form of nutrition, but it was something that drove him lustfully insane and made his head fuzzy and warm in the best way. This was the only time in his entire life that he didn’t have ten thousand thoughts running through his mind like the news blasting on television in the background. This was the only time since his first conscious memory that he had actually known his mind to be quiet.

He felt intensely thankful for it. Intensely thankful toward you for giving him this feeling.

In that moment, without all the noise, all he knew was the comforting feeling of your fat tit under his mouth, the heat of your body under his own as you cradled him. The soothing firmness of your hands through his hair and down his back - and the distant, sweet purring of your voice in his ears.

“Good boy.” You hummed, loving the feeling of him moaning around your nipple - so constant and so greedy now that you were sure he didn’t even know that he was doing it. “Such a good boy for me. Such a good boy for Mommy.”

Your cunt was humming between your thighs, aching so hard at seeing Spencer like this. The usually composed, intelligent, practically robotic Doctor Reid reduced down to a blubbering, moaning, needy mess just because he wanted to suck on your tits.

Just because you had called yourself Mommy a few times in his presence.

It was so utterly beautiful, and you wanted more.

(You didn’t think that you could ever let him go after this. You probably wouldn’t be able to stand the idea of another woman touching him after this. But you would have to think on that more later.)

You noticed Spencer canting his hips, unconsciously seeking friction against his hard cock while he continued to suck on your breast. With his eyes closed blissfully, drool gathering around his lips where they met your skin in the most utterly adorable way. You couldn’t help yourself - you scooted your knee between his thighs. You then used a hand to help his hips into place, adjusting him so that he was getting good friction against your denim-clad thigh.

“There you go. There you go, sweet boy.” You hummed, feeling another jolt through your body when he let out a sharper moan against your tit, and began humping your leg in earnest.

You were quick to encourage him, putting both hands on his hips and helping him along while he greedily hung onto you. He had on your hip, the other hand slipping up to cup fingers around the bottom of your breast, making sure you didn’t escape him while he moved his body against you so frantically.

“That’s just what you needed, isn’t it, baby?” You moaned out, your voice wavering slightly as the pleasure of it all thrummed through you. “Just a dumb little baby who needed Mommy’s tit.”

The term ‘dumb little baby’ came flying out of your mouth before you could stop it. Though you knew exactly why it happened. Seeing such a brilliant genius reduced down to this truly did something to your ego. And apparently hearing those words from you did something to him, too.

He whined sharply against your skin and his hips stuttered abruptly. You knew it wouldn’t be long before he came in his pants, his cock throbbing against the friction of your thigh. And this thought alone caused your mouth to run off without restraint.

“Such a needy little thing.” You sighed. “You love being Mommy’s dumb baby, don’t you? Not a single fucking thought between your ears, just sucking on Mommy’s tit without a care in the world.”

Spencer moaned and it sent another jolt through your body - another harsh pang through your cunt. You loved how much he needed you. You loved how much he was clearly eating this up.

You didn’t even care if you got to cum tonight; you just wanted to exhaust him for all he was worth. Because he was so fucking pretty like this.

“You gonna cum for me, baby boy? You gonna cum for Mommy? Come on, baby. Cum for me.”

These words were what ultimately sent him over the edge. Well that along with your strong hands on his hips, encouraging him along while he was mindless and busy mouthing on your breast.

His jaw dropped open, finally loosening that desperate suction on your now slightly sore nipple as he began to pant frantically over your now spit-soaked skin. He moaned hotly while he humped you in an entirely adorable, almost distraught manner - absolutely desperate to have the most friction on his cock while his orgasm overtook him.

You could feel his needy cock throbbing against you, trapped inside of his pants, shooting off hot ropes of cum that quickly soaked into his underwear and even then, seeped into the fabric of his slacks. You grinned and bit your lip as you felt that wetness even beginning to soak into your jeans, knowing he must have set off quite a big load.

Spencer soon collapsed on top of you, gulping in air as he tried to catch his breath.

Any normal person would have taken pity on him (seeing as he was clearly nervous and inexperienced) and wound things down to end the night here. Anyone else would have likely let him rest.

But again, you felt devilish temptation overtake you. (It was a feeling that seemed to be much more ripe around Spencer Reid.)

You just felt thankful that your temptation and inclination toward chaos came in the form of lust, rather than something more violent, like the people you studied every single day. Everyone around you should be thankful for that.

You used your leverage (and the fact that you weren’t nearly as exhausted from the experience) to flip him over onto his back. He let out a surprised sound as his back made contact with the mattress - blinking up at you with shocked, glassy eyes as you moved down his body slightly.

“Wha-?” He mumbled out the question, only getting out part of the word before you reached for the zipper on the front of his now wet pants.

“Hey, shh, baby. I just wanna see you.” You told him quietly, causing him to stare down the length of his own body at your hands as you worked.

You got the button and zipper undone quickly and you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you peeled back the wet fabric of his grey slacks to reveal the sight of his simplistic (very Reid) white cotton underwear slightly transparent and stuck tight to his cock, coated in wet, sticky cum.

“So pretty baby.”

He only whined in response.

You couldn’t help yourself - you reached up and pulled down the waistband of his underwear, feeling more lust pricking through you as he was truly revealed to your eyes. He was perfect. Glossy and wet with his own release, his cock pinky red from the exertion and friction, still half hard. You pulled the clothes down over his hips and he lifted his body to help you, clearly glad to be rid of the mess, and the second you untangled the fabric from his ankles and ditched everything aside, you were back on him.

You skimmed the tips of your fingers oh-so-lightly up his shaft where it was sprawled across his pelvis, and his hips jolted. He let out a bitter gasp - as though cold water had been splashed across him.

“You said-” He choked on the words as you ran your thumb right underneath the crown, gently pressing into the head, causing him to choke on a moan while his knees quaked.

You sat on his knees to keep him still and his head became so fuzzy once again.

‘You said that you only wanted to look.’

The sentence died off in his lungs somewhere, and truthfully - he didn’t want to protest. He didn’t want you to stop.

“Sens-sensitive.” He whined. “Too much.”

“But you’re so pretty, baby.” You replied, your voice turning smooth and warm like butter again, melting over his whole body, causing all of his muscles to go soft and pliant for you. “Your cock is so pretty. I need to touch you.”

He let out another strangled noise when you cupped your hand and took him fully in your grip this time, giving one good tug across his cock from root to tip. When you did this again, faster this time, his lungs seized inside his chest - trying to take in oxygen so quickly, as though he were drowning on dry land.

“You gonna be good for me, baby?”

“Yes.” He gargled back in response. “Yes, Mommy.”

He was already so wet from cumming in his pants, and he let out a pathetic dribble of precum as you continued to move your hand - so it was an easy, slick slide. One that sent harsh shockwaves through him from overstimulation. Against his own will, he soon ballooned back to full hardness - becoming painfully swollen in your hand while you sped up your touch and closed your fist tighter around him. It caused the most wonderful hurt between his legs, and made a downright filthy wet sound as you pumped your grip faster along his needy cock.

Spencer heard wailing and felt the soreness against his throat before he realized that he was the one making those desperate sounds. He distantly wondered what it might sound like to someone else, if the rooms on either side were occupied, if the motel would receive a noise complaint about some frail woman getting fucked to death by her husband next door - because that’s what he sounded like in his own ears.

But any of those half-thoughts were chased out of his brain the second you flicked your thumb up over the head of his cock and your dirty mouth filled his ears once again.

“Gonna milk this pretty cock, baby.” You told him, your voice firm. “You gonna show Mommy how much you can cum for me? Gonna show me what a good boy you are?”

Spencer let out another pathetic sound, his body singing with pleasure at his pure need to prove to you that - yes, he was a good boy.

He felt tears wet on the side of his face before he realized that he was crying, but it was all too good to ask you to stop.

You used your other hand to cradle his balls and you swooped down to capture his gasping mouth in another kiss (a very messy, open mouthed kiss that Spencer could barely pay attention to). Spencer screamed into your mouth while he painted his stomach with cum once again.

You only stopped jerking his cock once you had truly milked every last drop from him, his hips seizing up off the bed and your hand almost slipping off him completely from how sloppily wet it was with more of his cum added to the mix.

He was purely exhausted then. His eyes blinked heavily, struggling to stay open. He vaguely remembered you cleaning him off and tucking him into bed - but he definitely enjoyed falling asleep curled up next to your warmth.

…

The next morning, Spencer felt hungover.

He wondered if that’s what good sex always felt like - the combination of endorphins rushing through your body and physical exertion tackling you over. His legs were sore, as though he had run several miles. (Which wasn’t even something he could make a bold comparison to anyway, because he didn’t exercise nearly as much as he should for someone with this job). He woke up starving, grateful when you drove to a diner down the road after checking out of the motel and planted him in one of the booths before going outside to call Hotch in order to touch base with the rest of the team.

You came back with a small grin on your face.

“Turns out that tip the ex-wife gave us about their first house in Arlington was pretty solid.” You told Reid. “They caught the guy on his way there. He had another girl in the trunk. They got her back mostly unarmed, and took him into custody.”

Spencer nodded. “That’s good.”

When he moved to grab another sugar packet out of the caddy on the side of the table, three of them already open and empty beside his cup of coffee, you grabbed him by the wrist.

“That’s enough, baby.” You told him.

His stomach curled, that distinct feeling running through him again. And against his will, that word slipped out - again.

“Yes, Mommy.”

...

A/N: This is a standalone oneshot. There won't be a sequel or a continuation, so please do not ask for one. If you liked the fic, please comment about the body of work that has been written, or consider reblogging to show your appreciation. If you want to see more Spencer Reid fics that I have written, you can check out my Criminal Minds Masterlist, or you can check out my Masterlists for other fandoms to see if anything catches your eye. Thank you for reading!

#sundrop writes #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #sub!spencer #sub!spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic

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redbuddi · 6 months

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Hi my name is Suezean, I am a co-founder of the www.texas4ukraine.com support group in Austin, Texas. Join me in supporting Vikoriia, Oleksander, and their young son Slava as they begin their journey out of war-torn Odesa, Ukraine. Nightly shelling and drone attacks have turned their once-beloved city into a battleground, leaving them with no choice but to seek refuge elsewhere. The family has obtained Travel Authorization through the Uniting for Ukraine program to come to America and will be living with my family in Austin, Texas until they are able to launch out on their own.

Their decision to journey to the United States is fueled by a profound desire to provide a safer and more secure future for Slava, shielding him from the constant threat of violence and destruction. Leaving behind everything they know is a heart-wrenching sacrifice, but one they are willing to make to ensure their child's survival.

With limited resources and few opportunities for employment in the war-torn region, they urgently need our help to cover the cost of airfare. Every contribution brings them one step closer to safety and freedom, away from the looming danger of Russian rockets and the uncertainty of tomorrow.

Let's come together to offer hope and assistance to this brave family. Your support could mean the difference between life and death for Slava and his parents. Please donate today and help them embark on their journey to a brighter future.

#fundraiser #ukraine #gofundme #pls help these guys #this shit is dire

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bbtsficrecs · 10 months

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BTS FIC RECS PART 4 Part 4 of some of my favourite BTS fanfics. Please do consider liking, reblogging and/or commenting on the fics you like. There are so many wonderful and amazing authors out there who do not get the recognition they deserve. So please send them lots of love to keep them going. If you're on here, then know I enjoyed every second of reading your story ♡ There will be two parts 4 as it's (sadly?) too long to be saved under one post. Stay tuned for part 5, joon recs will be added!

Please let me know if some of the links aren’t working. Happy reading!

⊹ Hell Is Empty - drabble Love triangle AU | a | @aquagustd ‣ An important phone call between Yoongi & OC.

⊹ You’re The Best I’ve Ever Had Boyfriend Jungkook, Chubby reader | a, f, s | @adoredcore ‣ Jungkook’s touches were so soft. So soft you almost barely even felt them. Keyword: almost. His smooth fingertips ran along your silky skin, while the tip of his pink tongue ran across the nape of your neck.

⊹ Fool Me Once Fuckboy AU | a, s | @jeonqkooks ‣ You never expect anything from Jungkook, but somehow he always manages to let you down.

⊹ Attitude CEO Jungkook au | s | @lushtans ‣ Your relationship with your CEO is... Rather complicated. Aside your professional relationship, he fucks you whenever he feels like it and as much as you hate to admit the truth, you love it.

⊹ Don't Worry, Be Happy Daddy Jungkook AU, | f | @jvngkook97 ‣ "You guys have been trying to conceive for a little over a year now, but have yet to be fully successful."

⊹ Trap Idol Jungkook AU, | f | @jiminpitys ‣ In which you show up at your boyfriend's concert soundcheck as a surprise, and to your own, he’s wearing an outfit that’s bound to make you feel a certain way.

⊹ Addicted College AU, | f , s | @sparklingchim ‣ Your boyfie Jungkook fucking you silly.

⊹ B i g o l e f r e a k Friends with benefits AU | f , s | @joonberriess ‣ You’re both exclusive only to each other. Jungkook fucks the way he acts—crazy, hard. too bad you’re only here for the ride..

⊹ Foundation - Part 01, 02, 03 feat Yoongi Non-idol doctors AU | f , s, a | @hamsterclaw ‣ You know Jungkook is a fuckboy. So why are you letting him fuck with you? Featuring Yoongi.

⊹ Paint me naked Artist Jungkook AU | f , s, a | @gimmethatagustd ‣ After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he’s not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?

⊹ Why are you so late? Idol Jungkook AU | f , s | @kimnjss

‣ With such a packed scheduled, you’d think Jungkook would be on top of his game. But when a morning rolling around the sheets with you is thrown into the mix, it’s expected for him to want to take his time.

⊹ Our beloved summer - Series (on-going) Producer Jungkook AU | f, s, a | @jeonqkooks ‣ You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

⊹ Heaven can wait Chubby reader AU | f, s ish | @adoredcore ‣ "What’s a chance I’ll take baby I’ll stay heaven can wait."

⊹ Midnight cravings Established relationship AU | f | @hobiholic ‣ You want to go to the convenience store late at night to fulfill your midnight cravings but a sleepy Jungkook stops you.

⊹ Wet dreams Somnophilia AU | s | @kookiecrumb ‣ “I want you to use me…whenever you need me,”

⊹ Look at you - Risqué drabble Risqué couple AU | s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Mirror shopping with your boyfriend turns into something else entirely.

⊹ In the middle of the night Friends with benefits AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ It’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you

⊹ Like I'm famous Idol Jungkook AU | s, f | @softyoongiionly ‣ It’s New Years Eve and Jungkook would rather be anywhere else than at his company’s massive party. Sure, he’s a guest of honor and his team rented out the nicest hotel in Seoul, but ringing in the New Year with you on the other side of the world just feels wrong. He doesn’t know how he’s supposed to celebrate without the woman he loves, but maybe- just maybe…he won’t have to…

⊹ Strangers to lovers Established relationship AU | s | @kissmetae ‣ You’re a regular at the gym and today you decided to workout late. You thought you were alone, but it turned out there was one other person at the gym and you so happened to be his gym crush…

⊹ My dear friends Friends to lovers AU | s, f, a | @kooktrash ‣ Just friends? Keep telling yourself that, you and Jungkook have always danced on the line of friendship and something more but lately you’ve struggled being able to tell where you guys stand.

⊹ Red - Part 03 Pregnancy AU | s, f, a | @taestefully-in-luv ‣ You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

⊹ As we were - Series (on-going) Cheating/Infidelity AU | s, a | @archivedkookie ‣ Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

⊹ Imagine Model Jungkook AU | s, f | @chryblossomjjk ‣ Jungkook wants nothing more than to spend your anniversary cuddled up in a fancy hotel bathroom, eating takeout and binge watching TV shows. You, on the other hand, have something more exciting in mind.

⊹ Practice - part 02, 03 Fuckboy Jungkook AU | s, a | @chryblossomjjk ‣ You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

⊹ Lost Cause Cheating AU | a | @kooksbunnnn ‣ Jungkook comes back to you after his 10 day trip to Busan, and you sense something different about him.

⊹ The Boy With Galaxies In His Eyes Idol AU | a, s, f | @oddinary4bts ‣ You had never thought the night sky could be found in someone’s eyes. That is, until you met Jeon Jungkook and his gravity pulled you in. Will he crush you with the galaxies in his eyes, or will you learn to explore his worlds and make them yours?

⊹ Beyond Infinity - As We Were drabble As We Were Couple AU | a, s, f | @archivedkookie ‣ Jungkook does something you always dreamt about, and it ends up with the most beautiful night of your life.

⊹ What If I Love You Too Much Single Mom AU | a, s, f | @taleasnewastime ‣ Jungkook. It’s only a name you learn after your son kicks his ball over the fence. Before that you only knew him as the hot new neighbour who mows his lawn topless. And though you have no intention of getting to know him anymore than that, inevitably you do. You don’t necessarily fall, it’s too slow for that, but you definitely develop feelings you don’t intend to feel. Because you know men like him, and you know that whatever you’re feeling, he’s probably not feeling the same. All the same, however hard you try, you can’t help yourself.

⊹ Services For A Queen Sub!JK AU | s | @taegonia ‣ Jungkook serves his queen in more ways than just as the royal head of security.

⊹ Cold Nights & Blurred Lines FWB & College AU | a, s, f | @awrkive ‣ Jungkook and you have been keeping a sexual relationship with each other for four months now, and it’s casual for the most part. But as time passes, you can’t help but feel that some of the lines suddenly got blurred in the process. Is it a cliché to blur the lines with your fuck buddy? It definitely is. Will you do something about it? Both of your emotional constipation have a hard time saying yes.

⊹ Strictly Platonic Bestfriends to Lovers & College AU | a, s, f | @jeonqkooks ‣ Sometimes, Jungkook can be a little selfish; and sometimes, the lengths you would go to for his happiness mean relinquishing your own.

⊹ In The Middle Of The Night FWB AU | s, f | @joonsmoonluna ‣ it’s the middle of the night and Jungkook’s in need of you ⊹ Perfectionist Dancer AU | s | @miraclesatnightfall ‣ "He watched you, with each sensual step you made his eyes darkened with explicit desire" ⊹ Tangle Free Establish Relationship AU | f | @here4btsfics ‣ Bad days lead to you needing your boyfriend for comfort, specifically by playing with his hair.

⊹ As It Was - Apart of Boy With Love Series (on-going) College AU | a | @ggukiepie ‣ You bump into Jungkook days after you find out he has a girlfriend; things don't go so well

⊹ The Habits Of A Broken Heart Soulmate & Unrequited love AU | a, f | @softykooky ‣ Jungkook and you are soulmates. So says the matching crescent moons on both your wrists. However, things are never as easy as they seem, and you are quick to learn that falling in love with someone who does not believe in love is a one-way ticket to heartbreak. ⊹ Blackout - part 02, 03 Best friends to Lovers | s, a, f | @jjungxkook ‣ Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

⊹ Step Brother Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ Sub yn *innocently* dry humps her step brother jk while he plays video games.

⊹ Forbidden Romance Step Siblings AU | s | @aris-ink ‣ "It wasn’t unusual for your stepbrother to check up on you before bed. You’ve grown closer than you initially thought you would; it turned out that beneath the surface, you and Jungkook weren’t that different, after all."

⊹ My Perfect Patient Dentist Office AU | s, f | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Jaw pain is just as much of a pain in the mouth as it is in the ass, but don't worry, your favorite dentist is sure to fix you right up, using some special methods.

⊹ Confessions - part 02 Office AU | a | @pinkcherrybombs ‣ Since we're about to die, I need you to know, I've always loved you, Jungkook.

⊹ Getting Railed Boyfriend Jungkook AU | s | @dearlytea ‣ Getting dicked by your boyfriend during a train ride.

⊹ Make You Mine College AU | a, s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ Catch 22 College AU | s, f | @alluremin ‣ You and your best friend had agreed: college was for a good time only, no serious relationships were necessary. Who knew that a frat boy would be the one to shake up that notion?

⊹ Tolerate It - part 02 Failing marriage! au | a | @lmaosope ‣ Marriage is difficult, and every married couple fights. but jungkook has been late one too many times and broken one too many promises. it has you wondering why you give everything for a man who simply tolerates you.

⊹ Make You Mine Jock Jk au | a , s, f | @mercurygguk ‣ Your first day at your new college is quite eventful to say the least. But everything seems slightly less chaotic when Jeon Jungkook offers to help you on your way – if only knowing him wasn’t an even bigger mess than the day you first met.

⊹ His Throne - 01, 02, 03 Prince JK au | a, s, f | @jiminsa ‣ You, a maid for the royal family, have sex with the irresistible prince Jeon Jungkook on his throne.

#my recs #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic recs #bts fanfic #bts fic recs

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musamora · 11 months

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— 𝖐𝖎𝖘𝖘 𝖒𝖞 𝖙𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖜𝖆𝖞.

from anonymous: hello, can i request dazai and fyodor hc's for an insecure s/o?

pairing(s): osamu dazai & fyodor dostoevsky (bungou stray dogs) x f!reader

content warnings: body insecurity, depression, minor partner neglect, protective characters, mentioned nudity, implied/referenced sexual content, social anxiety, panic attacks. implied/referenced murder

author's note: it's good to be back ٩(•͈ ꇴ •͈)و ̑̑❀

summary: these two demons comfort their insecure and anxious partner.

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

These two intelligent masterminds are often preoccupied with plans and schemes, building the world up as the other breaks it apart. However, throughout all their similarities and differences, there is one weakness to their routine stoicism and impassivity.

And that weakness was you.

𝐎𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐔 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 ✧･ﾟ: ━

It had been a long day of slaving over papers at your desk within the confines of the Armed Detective Agency. You had practically been slumped over, hands aching from writing thousands of signatures on the lines of recent accident reports, your wrist slowly dragging until the letters were unrecognizable as a name.

It felt like you had transformed into the worst version of yourself — exhausted, agitated, depressed. And to make matters even worse, you hadn't had an interaction with Dazai that surpassed a handful of pleasantries for days. He had been plagued with missions for the past week, leaving him out beyond regular twilight hours, with his only remaining time used to catch up on sleep. You didn't blame him, though you were surprised to see him so dedicated, but you couldn't help but miss the simpler times when you would silently cuddle and revel in the affection of one another, tangled in each other's arms as you wished to be nowhere else. And with the loneliness came the insecurities.

"Oh, my dearest honey-pie!" Dazai called from across the office; the rest of your co-workers are already accustomed to his high-energy hijinks. He had returned after another mission, though it was luckily a much easier case than the previous.

You sighed, your smile not quite reaching your eyes as you glanced up from the text you had read a thousand times over, turning to the man leaping over like a bunny. But he stopped mid-hop, sliding over with a blank expression as he seemed to inwardly glitch.

"Osamu? Is something wrong?" you mumbled the question through drowsy lips, eyes barely able to concentrate as you felt on the verge of passing out. His eyes narrowed, those beautiful chocolate-brown irises scanning your face with a hum.

"Let's head home early today," he suggested, his large hand pressing against your back, swallowing his frown as he massaged the tense muscles. "Sound good, dear?"

He could immediately tell that something was bothering you, already linking it to his recent absences — he won't admit that he was quite flattered. However, his beloved feeling insecure and unsure of herself is an immediate no-no. And knowing him, he'd address it through a varied expression of pouts and his stern but gentle reassurances.

A part of him cannot believe that you're insecure — not because he doesn't understand the concept, because he logically knows most people will feel insecure once in their life. It's just that, out of the two of you, he feels that he doesn't deserve you and has to constantly remind himself that you chose him. But because he understands your feelings, he is amazing at identifying the origins of any specific insecurities — and pray for the health of anyone who tries to add to them. He was proclaimed the Demon Prodigy for a reason.

Are you insecure about your body? In complete honesty, Dazai believes that the stars were taken from your leftover pieces — someone created so beautifully that they needed to remove parts of you in order to humanize you. You were always a benevolent goddess in his eyes.

So watch you glare at yourself in the reflection of the mirror, eyes raking your nude form with utter hatred and disgust as you thumb at stretchmarks and pull at flesh with eyes like blades, daring to sever them off your body, twisted his heart in sorrow. How could you not possibly see how ethereal you were?

In those moments, he wanted to walk into the room, replace your hands with his own adoring ones, and show you the way to appreciate your body as he did. To make you cry in pleasure as he forced you to look at your own lovely expressions, to melt.

But he knows that isn't always what you need — that it isn't always the best idea to point out your insecurities in such a way. So, instead, he waits. In the dead of night, when you are snuggled in your shared bed under the moonlight, his warm, large hands run underneath your pajamas, leaving sleepy kisses across your sensitive skin as soft giggles were drawn out from your lips as he painted your shoulders, neck, thighs — anywhere he could reach.

"Oh, my sweet darlin'. Your radiance knows no bounds."

Do you have insecurities in social situations? He understands the origins of your anxiety — your world can be incredibly overwhelming — and he is very sympathetic. Whenever you're out together, he watches like a hawk for any possible triggers, checking in occasionally to make sure you're comfortable and calm.

His immediate reaction whenever you've become overwhelmed is to lead you out and away from the situation. Once he has picked up on your tense breathing and nervous expression, he responds accordingly and guides you somewhere to calm down. However, especially with an occupation like yours, that isn't possible. If he isn't able to get you out of the situation, he'll try to be physically near you in some way, resting a hand on your shoulder or back, bracing you in case your knees buckle.

If you still end up having a panic attack, he responds with uncanny and seemingly atypical seriousness, either ushering you away or eliminating the source of your anxiety before drawing you into his arms, acting like a human, weighted blanket as he whispers sweet nothings into your ears, rocking you back-and-forth as he encourages you to match his breathing.

After these attacks, he'd be glued to your side even more than he normally is. Most believe he is simply being obnoxious, but he is always closely looking at your expression and body language, ensuring that you don't dip into another panic.

"It's okay, honey. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."

And are you insecure about your relationship itself? If he was honest with himself, he would know the exact reason you'd have insecurities within your relationship. He was never known as the most committed, straightforward, or bluntly loving person towards anyone. He is a flirt and a fool, and at the beginning of the relationship, that never changed when you got together.

However, once he realized the way his behavior made you withdraw into yourself — the sorrow in your eyes when he'd leave in the middle of the night, the way you bit your tongue whenever he flirted with another woman — he finally stopped and took a look in the mirror. You were the best thing that could've ever happened to him, and the fact that his own actions were causing you pain broke his heart. So, for the second time in his life, he changed for a person — for the better.

He stopped flirting with women almost altogether unless a mission required it, focusing each of his cheesy one-liners and proposals to you. But his actions aren't always that obvious. It can be shown through the simple glances he makes towards you throughout the day, engaging you in silly conversations, or holding your hand with his non-dominant one as he pretends to fill out paperwork, mind focused on the patterned taps of phrases in your palm.

And he makes sure, whenever he sees you start to withdraw again, he goes out of his way to take care of you the same way you always lovingly took care of him. Whether that's through going out on a date, staying in to watch movies, or partaking in steamy activities is up to you.

"I've heard that a new restaurant opened up nearby, beautiful. Wanna go?"

𝐅𝐘𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐄𝐕𝐒𝐊𝐘 ✧･ﾟ: ━

You hadn't seen Fyodor the entire week.

He had been far too busy planning his next scheme, crammed in his office at his organization's headquarters, far underground in a place that you couldn't locate — he refused to let you be involved in his plans or with the people under his command. So, instead, you had been stuck within your menial routine, waking up to an empty bed, going to work at your exhausting job, and returning to your barren home.

You dropped your stuff unceremoniously onto the coffee table, slumping onto the couch with a groan as your face smushed into the cushions. Not an inch of your body was able to be moved, only turning to cover yourself with a blanket after a couple of minutes, willing yourself not to cry, allowing the soft fabric to swallow you whole. You couldn't even turn on the television despite your hatred for the silence, finding the only shows or movies featured couples relishing their time together, blissfully ignorant to all struggle or strife.

You were becoming a shell of your former self with each passing moment, burrowing further into your body as any happy emotion turned to melancholy, only wanting to hear his voice again. The house was too big for you to remain in alone, and you wouldn't be surprised if the echoes of it creaking onto its foundation made you slowly go mad.

You barely stirred as the front door clicked open, a brief question of whether you locked it coming to mind, but you couldn't find the will to care. Someone circled the room before they approached your body, nimble hands nudging the blanket to get a view of your face.

"Good evening, моя милая," he whispered, breaking the empty air as he traced the tense creases of your eyes.

You melted into his affections, practically nuzzling into his hand, but even those touches didn't seem to be enough to appease your troubled mind. He would only leave, allowing you to wallow in your own anxiety for another week or longer. The black-haired man frowned at your less-than-enthused reaction, twirling the strands of your tangled locks with eyes that you hoped you weren't misconstruing as concern.

"I'll make us some tea, hm?"

Just like Dazai, Fyodor was immediately able to tell that something was wrong the moment he walked through the door. But unlike Dazai, he remains observant, not immediately jumping to comfort and cradle you without analyzing the origins and best possible solution to your current insecurities. And if the source of your insecurities came from someone in particular, he would be quick to eliminate them with uncharacteristic impatience and swiftness.

Because out of all the people on this planet, his perfect other half is not allowed to feel anything but uncontrollably adored.

To him, you are incandescent and divine, above everyone else. So, the fact you have insecurities based on such small, seemingly inconsequential flaws bewilders him. He can be harsh and blunt in his statements, but it's only because he sees you so highly. You are his equal in every way possible.

Are you insecure about your body? Fyodor has a fondness for beauty; it is no secret. He stares upon magnificent pieces of art and illustrative manuscripts of writing with fondness, but it never compares to the way he gazes upon your face. You are the most enchanting woman he has ever laid his eyes upon, even throughout his lengthy travels across the continent — and the notion that you think otherwise disturbs him.

You seem to be so utterly unaware of your own natural allure, too caught up in the smallest components of your appearance to understand that, as a whole, you were a masterpiece unrivaled by all. Too busy prying yourself apart, oblivious to the radiance that followed in your every step.

You are the all-encompassing vision of natural appeal and charm, a sight he partially wished could be replicated across the ends of the earth. But he understands the reason that is impossible. You were born to be swathed in adoration, intimately by him alone, even if he was too proud to admit it. He always became soft-hearted to your lovely smile, such a simplistic expression that stirred his heart in ways never before seen.

He would initially remedy these insecurities through his gifts to you, luxurious silks and soft velvets sewn into clothes that perfectly draped over your figure. Simple accessories that only complement your features.

And his touches would begin to linger, especially surrounding the parts of yourself that you are most insecure about. Sometimes, he waits until you're almost asleep, eyes hazy with lethargy, and he traces your beauty marks and freckles — anything that you perceive as a flaw, caressed with meticulous adoration and devotion.

"Прекрасный, любимая моя. Прекрасный."

Do you have social insecurities? Fyodor would study the roots of your social anxiety, watching every reaction you'd have towards people or noises when you two would be together in public, feeling the way you hold his arm tight like a vice, brows furrowed as you attempted to withhold your panic.

He knows certain elements of situations can be worrisome and cause your pretty mind to overthink, often fearful for the safety of yourself or others. Perhaps it was another trait that drew him towards you; such a human trait it is, that unwavering compassion. And he couldn't help but find it somewhat cute the way you clung onto him, though that's a hint of his pride talking. You are completely capable of defending and protecting yourself, but he doesn't think you should have to do it alone.

He responds to any panic accordingly, although not necessarily by straight-up calming you. With his intelligence and ability to pinpoint your fears, he can quell them with facts, although if he can tell logic won't work, he'll resort to calming you with discrete, simple whispers and light touches, leading you out of the situation as a final fallback.

However, if someone is threatening your safety, he can quickly take care of them through his wit (and a bit of his ability). The audacity someone has to even attempt to bring harm to your happiness and person makes his blood boil. But the fact that they're idiotic to mess with someone under his protection is almost laughable, and they'll soon learn the consequences of their transgressions.

"Don't worry about that scum, любимая. I'll take care of them."

And the basis of any of your insecurities surrounding your relationship itself, he realizes, to his utter dismay, is probably due to his air of outward coldness and apathy. You are his complementary match, understanding his exact thoughts from the smallest changes in his demeanor, drawing out the tiniest trickles of his affections from seemingly minuscule actions. But sometimes that isn't enough — understanding does not equal comprehension.

Certain assumptions through the lens of your own inadequacies, however tiny they may be, shift your view on position and importance in his life. And he will have absolutely none of that.

Fyodor is rarely so straightforward with his love, even in the moments when you are both completely alone — and that doesn't initially change much. However, he is ever-so-slightly more obvious — blunter with his words, letting his touches linger, scheduling his time with you.

And he purposefully leaves clues of his love in plain sight, inconspicuous letters left partially peeking out of drawers, Cyrillic letters drawn across the paper in intricate swoops, waiting for you to translate their true meaning. Of course, you'll have to work for it, but isn't the result all the more sweeter. He may be too prideful to admit it to your face, besides in the hours where you can barely comprehend thought, but he is and always will be completely enamored and devoted to you.

"Ты просматриваешь мои письма, любимая моя? Какой у тебя блестящий ум."

𝗥𝗨𝗦𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗡 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 —

моя милая = my dear прекрасный, любимая моя. прекрасный. = beautiful, my darling. beautiful. любимая = darling ты просматриваешь мои письма, любимая моя? какой у тебя блестящий ум. = are you looking through my letters, my love? what a brilliant mind you have.

taglist: @imhandicapableofmath @seisitive @hauntedsol @ruru-kiss @ishqani @zyilas @lovesick-fairy @fedyascoffin @aquigglewigglewoo @kotysluny

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅#f!reader #✉︎ ⎼ [anonymous] ‧₊˚#౨ৎ˚ ⎼ [afterhours]#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #fyodor bsd #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #osamu dazai #dazai bsd

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wervusindaart · 6 months

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Warp Gala 2024

Our beloved Primarch and his most trusted Librarian enter the stage of Twitter event centered around Met Gala x Warhammer40k! Ahzek feels awkward in a luxurious and over the top presence of his gene father, but tries his hardest to remain cool about it. He is drawn by my co-author, Efsher, whereas Magnus is done by yours truly.

On a side note, I had to compress this illustration twice just to upload it. 😅

The original size is around 17000 px wide!

#arcain draws #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #thousand sons #primarch #magnus the red #ahzek ahriman

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samsseptember · 2 months

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Samtember 2024 Calendar, Rules, and Guidelines!

Hi, Sam Wilson Nation! It’s that time of year again when we all get together to celebrate our beloved Sam Wilson’s birth month. That’s right, it’s ✰Samtember2024✰ !!!

As per usual, the event will be running from Friday, September 1st to Saturday, September 30th and there will be prompts set for each day:

Week 1:

Day 1 - Free Space

Day 2 - Bird Telepathy

Day 3 - Costume

Day 4 - Crossover/Multiverse

Day 5 - Canon Divergence

Day 6 - Hurt/Comfort

Day 7 - Future Fic

Week 2:

Day 8 - On Your Left

Day 9 - Move Your Seat Up

Day 10 - I Never Said Pilot

Day 11 - The Big Three

Day 12 - When Do We Start?

Day 13 - Man, Shut the Hell Up

Day 14 - Moon Stuff

Week 3:

Day 15 - Cap Quartet

Day 16 - Redwing

Day 17 - Mission Fic

Day 18 - Shield

Day 19 - Wakanda

Day 20 - Undercover

Day 21 - Co-Pilots

Week 4 + 2 Days:

Day 22 - Cookout / Boil

Day 23 - Birthday

Day 24 - Fishing

Day 25 - Louisiana

Day 26 - Lovers

Day 27 - The Paul & Darlene

Day 28 - Slice of Life

Day 29 - Wilson Family

Day 30 - Home

We will open a collection on AO3 soon. We will update this when the collection is ready, but when it is you'll also be able to find it by typing samtember2024 in the add to collections option.

You can also tag any works you post with #samtember2024 or tag this blog @samsseptember. Works will be reblogged every day throughout the month.

What works count for this fan event?

Any of the following count:

fanfic

podfic

fanart

gifsets

photosets / moodboards / collages

graphics

Haikus

videos / edits

playlists

fic rec lists

comments

Whichever way you want to celebrate Sam Wilson, it’s up to you!

The rest of the FAQ and rules are under the cut.

FAQ

What is this?

It’s a Sam Wilson fan event.

Is there any pressure?

No pressure at all. Fill one prompt. Fill all the prompts on for the month. Do however many you please.

Can I fill more than one prompt with one piece of art/one fic?

Yes! You can fill one prompt with one piece of art or fic. You can try to fill all 30 prompts at once with one piece of art or fic. If you can fill every single prompt from every single day in one fill, that’d be wild but it’s okay by the rules. You can do any number in between.

Are there any prizes for making anything for this event?

Just the satisfaction that you made something cool.

Should the work I make be Sam Wilson-centric?

Yes. You can make a gen work or a piece with any ship with Sam Wilson in it, but the main focus should be Sam Wilson.

How long will this event run?

It will run from September 1st to September 30th.

I heard there are badges I can use for each fill?

There will be! They will come out daily.

Do I have to post my fic for the prompt on the day of the prompt?

You can if you’d like, but it’s okay if you post a piece on a day other than the day of the prompt.

RULES AND GUIDELINES

What are the guidelines for the event?

For Everyone:

1. Remember to tag @samsseptember in the post as well as #samtember2024.

2. Please also tag the prompt you’re filling (for instance, if the square is “Redwing”, use “#redwing” as one of your tags when posting about it on Tumblr).

3. If you’re uploading to AO3, please:

a ) Say somewhere which prompt you’re filling.

b ) Add it to Samtember 2024 Collection that you can find here.

For Artists:

1. Create at least one piece of new art that can’t have been posted anywhere else before this.

2. All visual art forms are welcome:

a ) Gifsets, at least 3 gifs.

b ) Aesthetic boards or moodboards, at least 4 images each.

c ) Drawing/painting, that is not a sketch.

d) Fan video.

e) Graphics edit.

For Authors:

1. At least 500 words.

2. Posted on Tumblr or AO3.

3. Can be part of a series, but should work as a standalone.

For Podficcers:

1. The podfic should at least be 5 minutes long.

2. It should be posted on either Tumblr or AO3.

3. The podfic can be of a fic made for the event, a fic not made for the event while still adhering to the prompt, or a notfic.

For Fic Rec Lists:

1. You must have at least three fics or podfics on the rec list.

2. Make sure to give brief descriptions of the fics or podfics as well as their rating and wordcount.

For Commenters:

1. Any amount of comment counts, from a heart emoji (“❤️”) to an essay.

2. We would rather this be about what makes you happy and joyful about reading than any scathing critiques.

Things to be mindful of when creating:

For Sam

Avoid framing Sam only as a caretaker or emotional support for Bucky. Be mindful of Sam acting angry or aggressive in an out-of-character way and falling into the angry/sassy Black man trope (check out the MCU source material to help with character traits).

Avoid decentering Sam as a main character and refrain from focusing entirely on Bucky.

In art: avoid whitewashing Sam’s skin and research drawing Black characters.

General disclaimer: Race affects every aspect of his life, including interacting with police/government and the white structures of the world when it comes to performing his duties as Cap and simply being a Black man that lives in the U.S.

For Bucky

Avoid phrasing “flesh/normal/human hand” to refer to the contrast between his prosthetic arm and his right arm. The phrasing is ableist. You can simply refer to his prosthesis when relevant, otherwise use “right/left arm/hand”.

For more information, please check out this document suggested by @ninesdb on how to write Bucky as an amputee. @ninesdb is also open to questions if you have any queries not answered by the google doc.

Specific Tags:

Avoid tags in AO3 like “Sam Wilson is a Gift”, “Sam Wilson is a Saint”, and “Bucky Needs a Hug”.

Have fun and we look forward to all your wonderful works! ✰

#samtember2024 #sam wilson #sam wilson event #fan event #marvel #captain america #tfatws #marvel mcu #marvel comics #the falcon and the winter soldier #anthony mackie #ca:bnw #ca:cw #ca:ws #falcon and the winter soldier

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gghostwriter · 2 months

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Poison Me, I’m Fine

Spencer Reid x Songwriter!Fem!Reader

Summary: Your choice of poison was Spencer Reid. Who knew he would kill you and set you free in the process

Warning: angst with no happy ending

A/n: I feel insane for writing this in one sitting and not editing it. There's no part 2 for this, I just wanted to purge myself of this angst plot that took over me. This is probably the closest I could write to a singer-songwriter reader x spencer, granted she just writes for other pop stars (maybe I'll write some popstar!reader next time idk yet.) Also, 'Free Now by Gracie Abrams' and 'The Black Dog by Taylor Swift' was on repeat when I wrote this so you can spot some inspiration from both here. Hope you like it!

Main masterlist

You don’t know why you settled for less. Why you opted to walk on a blurry tight rope, why you chose a crumbling place to land on, and why you chose to enter a situationship that will end in heartbreak. Actually, scratch that, you do know why. Spencer Reid, that was enough reason for you to put yourself on the line. Or it was until your treacherous, greedy heart wanted more.

Does she follow like an echo? Like your shadow, you can try, but you can't run

It started with hushed whispers. Your mind slowly poisoning itself with what ifs and scenarios where he was fully yours, just like how he unknowingly owned you—mind, body, and soul. Whispers of—wouldn’t it be nice to visit this museum again with Spencer or he’d love this newly opened vintage bookstore around the block or it’d be nice to see the stars with him right now. You tried to cleanse those thoughts away but that’s the thing, poison that has entered your bloodstream is hard to remove.

It's a pain that I caught you at a bad time It's a shame that I memorized your outline

It morphed to vivid imagery next—hallucinations so life-like that you found yourself believing it half of the time. Portraits of him and you holding hands as you both walked down the streets, phantom outlines of you together swaying close to muted music, and shadows of you and him twisting in bedsheets. All untrue, except for the latter. You attempt to blink them all away with no success. Your heart reluctant to part with the delusion than face the truth—that he had only offered you his body and nothing else.

Every page that I wrote, you were on it Feel you deep in my bones, you're the current

It seeped out of you next—to your writings, to your works as if your body was doing its best to reject the poison away. To save itself from the nearing death that seemed inevitable in the end. Your poetry, your lyrics, and your art all contain entangled webs of metaphors and colors that lead back to him. Purple streaks on your canvas to represent his favorite, his beloved authors mentioned in your verses, and symbolisms of his career scattered all over—cuffs, guns, shot and everything in between. You tried to pour it all out of you, the dark and sticky emotion of despair and longing covering you and all extensions of you. Everyone noticed the change. The dimming of lights in your eyes and the shadows that threaten to swallow you whole. Everyone noticed—your family, friends, colleagues, and even the pop stars that buy your singles. Everyone except for the one that could save you, Spencer.

It turned into screams next. It was as if your body gathered all its remaining strength to shout for help or to howl in pain, you’re not sure really. All you’re sure of was that the end was near. The end was coming to free you from everything—from him. The trigger was overhearing him discuss you with his friend and male co-worker during a run-in in his apartment where he had no choice but to introduce you. Six months of pseudo dating him and no one knew you existed.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, wanting to escape the tension emitting from the situation and when you came back, that’s when you heard it. The lethal blow to your already dying heart.

“She seems nice,” his friend, Morgan, commented.

Spencer shrugged. “She’s no Maeve—not as deep but she’s—she’s safe.”

You bit your lip, trying to stop it from quivering lest you whimper out loud the pain his words has caused you.

Donning on a fake smile on your face, you watched as Morgan left with a wave goodbye to you and a casual ‘see you again.’ Not like that would ever come true.

Within seconds, you felt your mask cracking as tears slowly trickled down your face.

“I love you.”

They say the truth sets us free but not this truth. All it did was crash, burn, and pulverize your already precarious stacks of sticks that represent you and him.

Silence.

“You know, when we first started this—whatever this is—I promised to myself that I wouldn’t fall for you. That this was purely physical, sex,” you sardonically laughed. “But you know what I realized, that you were easy to fall in love with. So easy that I found myself ruined even before I could comprehend where and when it happened.”

“We agreed, didn’t we? That we would tell the truth and stop when feelings are starting to get involved. Why didn’t you tell me?”

You roughly swiped away the tears. “I didn’t know when it happened, Spencer! I thought if I stuck it out long enough, you’d feel something for me too! But that was foolish of me to believe. I see it now.”

“See what?”

You walked towards him, invading his personal space. The same way he did with yours. “That you’re not ready. Honestly I’d prefer if my opponent was standing in front of me. At least I could gauge if I had the chance to win. But with her, she’s gone, Spencer—” you jabbed your pointy finger on his chest, where his heart was. “I’m fighting with a ghost who I can’t even land a hit on. A ghost who haunts your every waking and dreaming moment. Tell me, Spencer, how do I compete with that—when I feel there’s little to no space for me. I exist only in between and in your limbo when you’re craving for a physical companion. How do I win, Spencer? Tell me or should I just throw in the towel?”

“Y/N—”

His eyes contained the answer and although it wasn’t what you were wishing for, it was what you subconsciously knew you needed to free you.

You nodded your head. “I guess—I guess this is it, huh. End of the line for us.”

“I guess so.”

You gathered your coat, haphazardly strewn on the floor—just like the pieces of your shattered heart and as you stepped out of his threshold, you gave yourself one last chance to memorize his outlines.

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

And finally, the poison had killed you and had set you free.

If you feel like fallin', catch me on the way down Never been less empty, all I feel is free now

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid oneshot #Spencer Reid one shot #gw fics

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sailorblossoms-snowbaz · 3 months

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yet another post about sex and attraction (and how it manifests in Simon)

(this time with ~quotes~)

I wrote a lot of posts about how attraction and sex is portrayed with Simon in these books (it's an issue, not being able to shut up)... I saved some screenshots here when I was cleaning up my gallery a couple of months ago because, well. They support a lot of things I have been saying.

When Simon calls himself a Baz-sexual, he's not just being goofy! In the context of thinking about having sex, he says "Baz is the only person I've EVER wanted" (let me emphasize the already emphasized ever again, in case it's not clear). Simon is not comfortable thinking about sex (iirc even in his memory, it's memory-Baz who says "sex") (as a side-note, dunno why people see Baz as being shy or scandalized about this shit like... the guy will just simply say the word sex. His issues with pursuing his desires are a different thing.) Simon is not going to elaborate in a super explicit way like "I have never thought 'I want to have sex with this person' about anybody until I figured I wanted to have sex with Baz" He's not comfortable processing his relationship with Agatha either, so it's notable that he would say this in hindsight, because this is already answering a lot while avoiding the things he's the most uncomfortable with (he didn't truly want sex with her – he's just beginning to discover where he even stands on sex right in front of us)

This is Simon expressing himself in the way he's able, in the way he's the most comfortable: by focusing on Baz. And it's not a thing where he has felt attraction before and Baz is different because it's just more intense when you're in love (which is obviously a valid and real experience, it's just not what's going on with good ol' Simon). He's saying "Baz is the only person I've ever wanted"... And that emphasis on ever? very intentional. One could say it's correcting any previous statement in CO where a character or two might be expressing the belief that Simon wants Agatha, the person (as opposed to things attached to her) (Baz we're gonna get you to work through your shit one of these days my beloved) (Simon himself, but he's mistakingly saying "I've always wanted to date her" when the example he goes by to support this point conveys "I want to be like her" among a list of other things.... "I've always wanted Agatha" -> "Baz is the only person I've ever wanted"... see what he's doing? and note how one is thought in the context of Simon projecting things like strength and acceptance into her beauty and the other in the context of having sex)

"Simon doesn't know what attraction feels like, he begins to figure it out right in front of us when he figures he wants Baz," I say. "He has simply not experienced attraction until Baz," I say (and so did the author after CO came out, when the sequels weren't even a thought yet, and she said it again after awtwb came out. I don't need 'word of god' to support what I say because there's a lot to pick up from the books, such as the screenshots you see here, but it's nice to have the extra confirmation. I'm not made of stone, I know I'm not immune to biases and the like, but I'm not just seeing shit here!)"

Also: sex for the sake of sex doesn't cut it for Simon. This is someone who's not only discovering the point of sex... he's discovering the point of being horny (which also sounds like someone who has not experienced pleasure outside of food, which is the one thing Simon associates with that). I mean, he sounds like someone who's just discovering they're even capable of being horny for real (even though he was being horny when he picked up fights with Baz years ago... that was unconscious... he has been horny for Baz for years, but the awareness wasn't there, and he mistakes his feelings for something else like missing Baz=being lonely or bored, horny for Baz=anger or frustration etc). Passion, attraction, horniness, you name it – he's figuring this shit out on the page right in front of us. He's figuring it out now because he hasn't felt it before. This isn't new for Baz, who has masturbated to thoughts of Simon ("I can have this" is what's new for him) but it's completely new for Simon. Being aware of such feelings and trying to work through them is new. And he's wondering "What do I do with this?"...

Simon, horny to the point he's dry-humping Baz in a public space: I don't understand what's happening here. All this also ties into how Simon isn't used to making decisions for himself by himself – he has always had a map (other people telling him what to do/what they expect of him) and he's not used to process his feelings. Processing such intense feelings is already a lot, but then... what's next? What are you supposed to do with feelings so big you feel like you're about to explode? (going off).

This is part of why it's so difficult for Simon. "He's so worked up his magic is leaking"... He can't get worked up without his magic leaking... and you expect me to believe this is someone who could enjoy sex in any way shape or form with the girl who can't tolerate his magic? Let's be serious.

If anything, he would not be able to have sex with someone he's not magically compatible with while actually feeling shit. His magic would stop it before it really got anywhere (so if you're going anywhere, he's not feeling it). Just like Baz says, he goes from 0 to 100: from struggling to have any feelings to feeling so much he could explode. It's part of why it's so difficult with Baz, and why being with Baz pushes him to start figuring things out. He's feeling now.

(This also shows Baz's gentle heart from very early on. Introduced as an essential part of his character, one might say!! Almost like he has always been soft at heart and didn't feel allowed to show it! Like perhaps his environment and being pressured into and confined to a role and expectations that went against his nature made him sad and bitter and act up!)

I think the most important thing here is how special this moment is with Baz – it's so good because he feels like he's building something with Baz there. They're connecting... They also match with "I want the other person so much, but am I allowed to act on these desires? Do I deserve it?" they both feel this way. And allowing themselves to have what they want (the other) is an experience comparable to magic itself.

After appreciating the importance of this moment... we can start looking at the little details. This scene was the starting point of me taking Simon's magic into consideration – that perhaps this is where Simon first experiences a relief that's not destructive. Before that, the only form of release he knew was just going off with his magic. Is this magic? is about how magical that moment is, yes. But also... Is this magic? he thinks while having an orgasm. It could be said that an orgasm is like going off – Simon only knew about going off by releasing his magic, and magic made it so he wouldn't have been able to go off in any other way without that being an actual danger (perhaps like how discovering his true desires would have been a danger to the structure he used to live with then, the traditional expectations and the role he was fulfilling)

Also, how would he even get worked up when he doesn't know what he wants? when he doesn't know what type of touch he even tolerates? When he doesn't think? (and for the record: you can get body parts to react with any touch without actually feeling it, I have posted about that too, look up arousal non-concordance etc). He's just starting to figure out these things when he's with Baz. Before being together, he got worked up with Baz all the time, but he didn't know what it was. He didn't know what any of it was (again, like when he missed Baz terribly but he just thought he was hungry or lonely or bored). Now that he knows he wants him, everything is so... much. It overwhelms him. I mean, consider this... This is very complicated, and it's also the first time Simon is left alone to figure it out by himself, free of expectations – the very thing that caged him also provided instructions of what to do, so it was easier to just act without thinking. There's no map here, no instruction... until Baz starts to guide him.

This is another thing that gets missed a lot: Simon is inexperienced. Doesn't matter that he has had sex before – he's showing you his inexperience with his questions, in the way he knows he wants to touch Baz but has no idea what to actually do. In a way, Baz has experience, even if it's not a lot, because he knows himself. He has experience feeling his desire and doing something about it, even if it's just by himself (masturbation as self-discovery: yet another reason Simon would not have been able to do it). It's why Baz guides, and why Simon finally feels like they have it figured out once Baz "starts driving." Baz telling him what he wants (which is also a good grounding technique to avoid dissociation) or figuring out what he wants provides Simon with the mission, the map, the guidance he craves. Only this time, it goes hand in hand with figuring out his own wants.

(I'm probably forgetting something I wanted to say here. Anyway, let me highlight how obsessed Simon is with Baz... Simon "I know his face better than my own" Snow, who has every microexpression Baz makes carefully cataloged in his head, doesn't know what Baz's face looks like when he feels pleasure, and he needs to change that expeditiously. He said the lights must be ON during sex with Baz.) (I probably going to post this little parenthesis again. I know very few people read these long ass posts until the end and I need the people to think about this)

#snowbaz #simon snow series #simon snow #simon snow trilogy #simon x baz #baz grimm pitch #baz pitch #baz x simon #carry on #wayward son #awtwb

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ninthcircleofprythian · 12 days

Text

Stuck in the Middle with You

A Halloween modern AU Fic - Azris/Reader throuple

Warnings - sweet tasty fluff and a literal ton of sexual innuendo

Word Count - 1.8k

Author's Note - this contribution to @erisweekofficial did not come about without help. I would like to send my heartiest gratitude to my co-author @nocasdatsgay for not only giving me the idea and letting me run with it but also for her help with deliciously witty banter. Everyone say "Thanks nocas!"

Another big shout out to my main divider designer babe @tsunami-of-tears who kills it as always with her amazingly beautiful dividers.

ALSO - Gold Star 🌟 for the first person who DMs me and can tell me who Nessian and Feysand’s couples costumes were. 😉

“First off, let me just say that finding costumes for a throuple isn’t the easiest thing ever ok?” You fidgeted nervously, shifting your weight between your feet as you stood before your partners in the living room of your shared apartment. “But as soon as I saw it, I knew this was the one. So please try to keep an open mind, alright?”

Two sets of eyes met yours as you glanced between them. One set of hazel eyes regarded you curiously while the other set, deep golden amber, narrowed on you suspiciously.

Here it was, two short days before the much anticipated Halloween party at Rita’s bar and grill and here you stood nervously clutching the bag in your hands.

“Well,” Eris’ smooth tone drawled. “Let’s see it then.”

“Open. Mind. Eris, please,” you pleaded. His eyes remained narrowed and your fortitude faltered for a moment. Eris was the more rigid of the three of you. He could certainly be soft and dare you say even silly, within the comfort of his home with his beloved partners, however in public was something he was still mastering. Asking him to do so in a costume was another added layer outside his comfort zone.

Slowly, you pulled the garments from the bag and draped them over the couch cushions for inspection. Just as you turned back to face your jury, Az let out a breathy chuckle, eyes alight with amusement. Before either of them could say anything, a loud crack of a laugh rang from the open kitchen.

“Ha! Oh, that’s genius. I can’t wait to see it!” Cassian cackled from atop his barstool at the counter.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Eris sneered.

It wasn’t exactly part of the plan to have an audience during this reveal, but it was your turn to host the weekly family dinner and your trip back from the store had left you short on time before your guests began arriving. And wherever food was involved, Cas was always early. Shooting Cassian a withering glare, you turned back to your partners, softening your gaze.

The mirth in Azriel’s eyes danced brighter. “I’m the chocolate,” he claimed. His lips quirked up at the corners in a sly smile as he reached forward to snatch up the costume. Without wasting another second he slipped the printed tunic over his head and pulled it straight.

“How is it that you get first pick? What if I wanted that one?” Eris grimaced, eyes scanning over the length of Az’s body.

“You couldn’t be the chocolate anyway,” Az chuckled. “It would clash with your hair. Besides, this goes better with my skin tone.” Stretching his arms out wide in an exaggerated pose he showed off those rippling arms. Deep toned skin glistened deliciously even under the harsh lighting of the living room.

Cassian gave an appreciative hum of agreement from his perch on the barstool just as Nesta strolled in the front door and leaned up against the counter next to him. Her gray eyes scanned the room assessing before quipping, “Eris should be the marshmallow.”

Eris whipped his head towards her, burnished hair swinging wildly as he did. “I swear if you are about to insinuate it's because I’m soft – I will leave right now.”

Reaching a hand out slowly, Az landed his palm on Eris’ shoulder. All the while biting at his lips to keep himself from laughing. Cassian wasn’t nearly as successful in hiding it as he buried his face behind Nesta’s shoulder and let loose a strangled noise.

You ignored them both, grabbing Eris by the elbows gently as you stepped closer to him. “Eris, please. It’s one night. It’s a costume party, we won’t be the only ones looking silly. I just want to have a couple’s costume like everyone else.”

You hadn’t planned on a guilt tripping plea, but in reality, you really did want this badly. Those amber irises swept up to your gaze once more before softening from their hard glare. Uncrossing his arms, he sighed. “Fine. I’ll be the marshmallow.”

He didn’t smile as he agreed. His face remained held in that pinched manner as he leaned forward to grab his puffy costume, but he had agreed. And that’s all you had hoped for.

“Oh, thank you!” You held the squeal in your throat at bay as you peppered his freckled cheek with kisses. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!”

Scrambling your arms into the last choice and pulling it straight, you watched with rapt attention as Eris’ shock of red hair poked through the top of his rounded tunic and he settled his arms at his sides peering down at the toasted marshmallow costume.

“Very fitting,” Cassian quipped with a smirk. “Crispy on the outside, gooey on the inside.” He dissolved into more barely contained laughter. Even Nesta’s frosty veneer cracked at the joke.

“Don’t say it like that,” Eris grumbled.

“Burns your tongue but the payoff is worth it,” Azriel piped up with a smirk of his own and a gentle pat to Eris’ backside.

“Please. I’m begging you. Stop.” A flush of pink crept up his cheeks.

“At least you guys get to be something fun,” you stated as you peered at the rather bland tunic. “Graham crackers aren’t even that good without the toppings.”

“So – you are saying you like to be topped then?” Az tossed out with a smile.

“I thought that was obvious.” Eris proclaimed, this time a smile of his own graced his stately features.

It was your turn to flush. “Ok. I don’t like this game anymore,” you bantered as you slipped off the tunic and folded it back into the bag. Eris quickly followed suit, eager to be rid of the ridiculous thing. Everyone began milling about, claiming their seats for the impending dinner.

“Wait!” Az pleaded. “No one has even mentioned how I melt in your mouth yet!”

“More like melt in your hand but – sure. Whatever,” you flashed him a devilish grin as you shoved the coffee table out of the way.

“Hey! It. Was. One. Time.” Az countered loudly.

Cassian sidled up beside him with a chummy pat on the back as he snuck in to claim the seat next to him. “That’s all it takes, brother.”

This time the whole room broke into giggles, Nesta’s being the loudest.

The party at Rita’s was still going strong even as the wee hours of the morning were approaching. Even though you were nearly dead on your feet from dancing the night away, you were having the time of your life. But those feet still needed a break.

“I need to sit for a little bit,” you half shouted over the music to Az, who was gripping your waist tightly as he shimmied against you. A quick nod of acknowledgement and his large hand slipped easily to the small of your back and he guided you off the dance floor through the crowd.

Your group of friends had claimed a table along the furthest wall, far enough away to be able to hold a decent conversation without shouting while still being in sight of all the action. The majority of your group was gathered around the small table, sitting or standing. Rhys and Lucien approached from the direction of the bar, drinks in hand. As you stepped close, Eris’ arm slipped around your waist as his other hand smoothly offered you a beverage.

“Having fun?” Eris silkily crooned in your ear as he pulled you close.

Swallowing the large gulps of ice cold water you replied with a laugh, “So much fun!” Trailing your free hand along his collar, you pulled at the ribbon now hanging there and palmed the lightweight medal that was attached. “I still can’t believe we won,” you beamed.

“They created a category just for us as a threesome, love,” he grinned slyly as he kissed your cheek. “We won by default.”

“A win is a win!” Az exclaimed from behind Eris, pulling you both into his muscled arms.

“Hear, hear!” Cassian cheered. With his perfectly slicked hair and pinstripe suit, he really did cut a dashing figure. Nesta’s back leaned against his front, both of them sported similar medals. The long black wig that Nes was sporting made her gray eyes even more enchanting and the tight black dress hugging her curves left little to the imagination. “It’s all thanks to you mia cara,” Cas said with a feline grin as he ravished Nesta’s neck with kisses.

“I knew I should have picked something more people would know,” Elain pouted from her seat at the table. Lucien quickly swooped her into his arms and deposited her squarely into his lap. “No pouting, Princess. I think you make a fine Buttercup. It’s not your fault there are so many uncultured heathens around here.”

Elain let out a squealing giggle as Lucien’s fingers danced up her sides. “You’re right,” she stated firmly. “And you certainly make a devilishly handsome Wesley. I think you should keep the mustache.” Lucien’s eyebrows raised as his eyes gleamed with delight and he nipped at Elain’s ear, eliciting another squeal.

“At least there weren’t multiples of you guys,” Feyre whined in jest as she swung out an arm to showcase the room around them. “I figured the hype from the movie would have died down by now.” Nearly every other blonde in the bar had their hair teased to perfection and sported some shade of shocking pink, feet adorned with sky high stilettos.

“There’s always next year, darling,” Rhys cooed as he tugged her closer.

Plopping into the chair you pulled from the table, you groaned as you kicked off your own high heels. Eris quickly joined you, sliding a chair in front of yours and sliding his hand along your smooth leg, raising it to land in his lap.

“I don’t know why you insisted on wearing those,” he frowned as his warm hands squeezed deliciously along your arch. “It’s not like graham crackers are known for their footwear.”

You chose to ignore that jab as you moaned at the soreness being massaged from your sole. “Mmmm, keep doing that,” you insisted as you brought your other leg up to his lap.

“Anything for you, my treat.” Eris smiled softly at you as his hands worked their magic on your feet.

“Oh Eris, you really are gooey on the inside,” you cooed with a giggle as you poked a toe at his costume.

His whiskey glazed eyes sparkled with mirth. “I’ll show you gooey on the inside,” he retorted loudly enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the room. Unfortunately also loud enough for the whole group to hear as well.

Your eyes shot open with shock and delight at his joke, a laugh caught in your throat. Az’s bark of a laugh cracked through the shock as everyone else’s ringing laughter joined in the merriment.

“Wait – that’s not –,” Eris stammered as the pink color flushed at his cheeks. “I don’t like this game.”

@mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @chairofchaos @pit-and-the-pen

@prythianpages @c-starstuff-man0

#erisweek2024 #azris x you #azris x reader #acotar au #azris fluff #azris throuple #eris vanserra #azriel shadowsinger #azris #acotar #acotar halloween

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 1 month

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A love beyond words

pairing : benedict bridgerton x f! wife reader

In the grand ballrooms of London, where every gaze and whisper held a secret, Benedict Bridgerton and his wife, Y/N, were a sight to behold. The two were often the subject of envy and admiration, for their union was one of deep affection and mutual respect something that shone as brightly as the jewels worn by the ladies of the ton.

Y/N, with her warm demeanor and sharp wit, had managed to forge an unlikely yet cherished friendship with none other than Queen Charlotte herself. The Queen, known for her discerning taste and formidable presence, had taken a particular liking to Y/N's spirit. Their conversations, often filled with laughter and a shared love for the arts, had earned Y/N a place in the Queen's favor a rare and precious gift.

One evening, at a ball hosted by the Duchess of Northumberland, Y/N found herself at the center of attention. As she moved gracefully across the floor, her husband, Benedict, watched her with adoration, his heart swelling with pride. He knew, as did everyone else, that his wife was a woman of rare qualities, one who could captivate even the most critical of eyes.

But as the evening wore on, a certain Lady Bellingham, known for her sharp tongue and even sharper jealousy, took it upon herself to speak ill of Y/N. The words, though whispered behind a fan, were meant to wound, and they did not go unnoticed by those who heard them.

“Indeed, it is a wonder that such a commoner has found herself in the good graces of Her Majesty. One must wonder what sort of charm she employs to secure such favor,” Lady Bellingham sneered to her companions, who giggled behind their gloves.

The insult did not reach Y/N’s ears, but it was heard by Benedict, who had been approaching his wife to ask for her next dance. His jaw clenched, and a dark fire lit in his eyes. Benedict Bridgerton was not a man to let any slight against his beloved go unchallenged.

With a calm that belied the storm within him, Benedict approached Lady Bellingham. “My lady,” he began, his voice as smooth as velvet but carrying an unmistakable edge, “It seems you are mistaken. It is not my wife’s charm that has won her the Queen’s favor, but her integrity, intelligence, and grace qualities that I fear you may not recognize, as they are so far removed from your own.”

The air in the ballroom seemed to still as the surrounding guests caught wind of the confrontation. Lady Bellingham flushed with embarrassment, her attempt to retort thwarted by the intensity of Benedict’s gaze.

At that moment, as if fate itself were intervening, the Queen entered the room. The crowd parted for her as she made her way toward Y/N, her eyes gleaming with a mix of amusement and authority.

“Lady Bridgerton,” the Queen addressed Y/N with a warmth that caused whispers to ripple through the crowd, “I trust you are enjoying this evening?”

Y/N curtsied gracefully, her heart fluttering as she met the Queen’s gaze. “Indeed, Your Majesty, it has been a most delightful affair.”

The Queen’s eyes flickered to Lady Bellingham, who stood pale and trembling. “I believe,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of command, “that the company in this room would do well to learn from Lady Bridgerton’s example. She has the qualities that endear her not only to those who know her well but to myself as well. It is a rare woman who can claim such a friendship, and I would advise others to remember that.”

The Queen’s words were like a decree, and Lady Belling As Y/N floated across the ballroom, her grace catching the eye of many, she found herself in conversation with Lady Beresford, a woman known more for her sharp tongue than her charm. The exchange began cordially enough, but soon took a turn as Lady Beresford's remarks became pointed, her words dripping with thinly veiled disdain.

"You must feel quite secure in your position, Mrs. Bridgerton," Lady Beresford sneered, her tone laced with venom. "To think that a mere commoner could rise so high, only by the graces of a hasty marriage."

Y/N, ever composed, met the insult with a calm smile, refusing to be ruffled by the woman's pettiness. "I find that true security lies in the love and respect of one's husband, Lady Beresford," she replied gently, "and in the good fortune of one's friends."

As the words hung in the air, a hush fell over those nearby, who had been pretending not to listen. Benedict, who had been observing the exchange from across the room, felt a surge of protectiveness. He began to make his way toward his wife, but before he could reach her, another figure intervened.

Queen Charlotte, who had been seated on a dais overlooking the festivities, had heard enough. Rising to her feet, she descended the steps with regal poise, the crowd parting in reverence. Her approach was swift, and her gaze fixed on Lady Beresford with an intensity that made the woman pale.

"Lady Beresford," the Queen intoned, her voice cutting through the murmurs, "it seems you have forgotten your place." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "Mrs. Bridgerton is not only the wife of a gentleman of the highest regard but also a dear friend to the Crown. Any slight against her is a slight against me."

The color drained from Lady Beresford's face as she stammered an apology, her previous bravado crumbling under the Queen's steely gaze. "Your Majesty, I-I meant no offense…"

"Then you will do well to remember that," Queen Charlotte replied sharply, her tone leaving no room for further insolence. "Now, begone from my sight."

Lady Beresford curtsied awkwardly, retreating from the ballroom in disgrace, her head bowed low. The gathered guests remained silent, awed by the Queen's swift and decisive action.

As the tension in the room eased, Benedict finally reached Y/N's side. His eyes were filled with admiration and gratitude, both for his wife’s grace under pressure and for the Queen's intervention. Taking Y/N’s hand, he pressed a tender kiss to her knuckles.

"You handled that with remarkable poise," he murmured, his voice low so only she could hear. "But I do hope you know that I would have defended you with equal fervor, had the Queen not acted so swiftly."

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart swelling with affection for the man she had chosen as her partner. "I never doubted it, my love. You have always been my greatest protector."

Later that evening, as the festivities came to a close, the couple retired to their chambers. In the privacy of their room, Y/N turned to Benedict, her eyes filled with the depth of her love and gratitude.

"I am truly fortunate to have you by my side, Benedict," she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Thank you for always standing up for me, for being my constant source of strength."

Benedict pulled her close, his lips brushing against her temple. "And I am the fortunate one, to have a wife as remarkable as you, my dearest. Your grace and spirit are unmatched."

Thank you for understanding. I’ll continue with an intimate and affectionate scene, focusing on the love and connection between Y/N and Benedict.

As the night deepened and the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow around their chambers, Y/N and Benedict found themselves wrapped in each other’s arms. The events of the evening, particularly the confrontation with Lady Beresford, had left Y/N feeling both grateful and deeply touched by her husband’s unwavering support.

She gazed up at him, her fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. “Benedict,” she whispered softly, her voice carrying all the affection she felt for him, “you always know how to make me feel cherished. I’m so thankful to have you by my side.”

Benedict’s eyes softened as he looked down at her, his love evident in every glance. “And I am thankful for you, my love,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “You are my heart, Y/N. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to see you smile.”

Feeling an overwhelming need to show him just how much he meant to her, Y/N leaned up to press her lips to his in a tender kiss. Benedict responded with equal passion, his hands cradling her face as their kiss deepened, conveying all the emotions that words could not.

As they parted, Y/N looked at him with a playful glint in her eyes, her lips curving into a smile. “Let me thank you properly,” she murmured, her voice sultry yet filled with love. She slowly sank to her knees in front of him, her hands sliding down his chest as she held his gaze.

Benedict’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he realized her intent. “Y/N…” he began, but the words trailed off as her fingers worked deftly at the buttons of his trousers, her touch sending shivers of anticipation through him.

With a gentle touch, Y/N brought him to full arousal, her movements slow and deliberate, savoring every moment. Benedict’s hands threaded through her hair as he watched her, his heart swelling not just with desire but with the profound love he felt for the woman who had become his world.

Y/N took her time, her actions a blend of passion and tenderness, wanting him to feel just how much she appreciated his unwavering support and the love he showed her every day. She moved with a steady rhythm, her eyes never leaving his as she took him deeper, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing moment.

Benedict’s breaths grew ragged, his grip on her tightening as the pleasure built within him. But beyond the physical sensation, it was the intimacy of the act that overwhelmed him the trust, the love, the deep bond they shared. When he finally reached his peak, it was with a groan of her name, his heart full of nothing but love for his wife.

Afterward, Y/N rose to her feet, and Benedict pulled her into his arms, holding her close as they both basked in the afterglow of their shared moment. He kissed her deeply, his lips conveying all the gratitude and love he felt, before leading her to their bed.

As they lay together, wrapped in each other’s arms, Benedict whispered against her ear, “I love you more than words can express, Y/N. You are everything to me.”

“And I love you, Ben” Y/N replied, her voice soft and full of emotion. “Thank you for always being my protector, my partner, and my love.”

#bridgerton fanfiction #benidict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton benedict #benedict bridgerton

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lyramundana · 10 months

Note

lyra lyra lyra because we talked about omegaverse –

wild, angry, possessive rut/heat sex between alpha!minho, alpha!reader/vivi and omega!jisung

i wanna see the two alphas fucking each other stupid and jisung getting off majorly on watching and being dragged in between them 😵‍💫

Lucky for you, I already imagined an omegaverse au with Vivi, so I have plenty to share~

My girl can only be an alpha, sorry but that's how it is. It's her nature, and that gives an extra reason of why she and Minho clash so much. They're both territorial, stubborn and pride themselves in their authority over others. Minho doesn't take it kindly when people try to touch what's his, and when Vivi wants something, she gets it at any cost. And in this case, Jisung is what she wants.

(this got way longer than anticipated, so beware)

ANGRY WOLVES

Warnings: Established polyamorous relationship, omegaverse, 2 alphas and 1 omega, angry sex, penetration, unprotected sex (no hat, no party), voyeurism, subtle PDA, third pov perspective, not entirely reliable narrator, spit, nipple stimulation (f! receiving) switch minho, switch oc! (they both try to dominate the other), sub! jisung, boy x boy action, some verbal degradation

It's not easy at first and it's obvious to everyone the two alphas only co-exist for Jisung's sake, since he claimed them both as his mates and they're way too possessive to let go of him. But they're not friends, Hell, they can barely spend five minutes in the same room without insulting and attacking each other. The tension is always thick with them around and people unconsciously drift away from them in fear for turning into "collateral damage".

It's all a competition with the two of them, specially when it comes to their beloved Omega. When heat/rut comes, that time of the year they spent weeks locked in a room and fucking Hannie until he faints, they push each other, trying to overdo the other in terms of hickeys and orgasms, seizing their bite marks so they're bigger than the other. At the end, Jisung's body is just a canvas covered in red, purple and yellowish bruises, with two big bite marks on his neck, proudly displayed. Luckily, this rivalry means Jisung is always twice as spoiled and cared for than anyone, and overall treated like a prince, provoking the envy from some Omegas.

At first sight, one would think the love only goes for Jisung and the other two hate each other. And to some extent, it is true. Even Jisung believed this, much to his sadness.

Until that night.

They were hanging out with their friends in their regular club. Dressed for the occasion, a couple of disagreements before leaving the house (guess from who), spicy compliments that definitely held a second meaning and sitting in their own corner with a table full of drinks and snacks. It was enjoyable.

They were mostly Jisung and Minho's friends, although Vivi got along with them just fine and was seemingly having fun chatting. Of course, her and Minho couldn't stay five minutes without bickering about something, but at least they weren't beating each other into pulps (Jisung already witnessed that, and as hot as it was, he didn't like them injured). Minho had one arm wrapped around his shoulders and Vivi at his other side, hand comfortable placed in his thigh.

Then, someone complained about a few empty bottles and Vivi offered to go and refill them herself. She stood up the table, "accidentally" kicking Minho out of her way, which earned a low growl from the older and a mocking chuckle from her part. While the rest kept talking, Jisung couldn't help but admire her backside as she retreated, the delicious skin exposed with the open cut in the damn back dress, ending right before her ass started.

He felt Minho's fingers twitching in his shoulders, and when he turned to look at him, he found something...weird to say the least. The alpha's eyes were fixed on Vivi's figure as she walked, eyes dark and focused with a feeling akin to anger, which wasn't surprising. But as Jisung looked closer, he also noticed a predatory glint in them. It reminded him of how Minho looked at him during his rut. A wolf watching his chosen prey, calculating the best moment to sink his fangs into helpless creature.

It was the first time Jisung saw that glance directed at someone else, and the last person he expected. That's what convinced him that he was just overanalyzing things. There was no way Minho looked at Vivi with anything remotely positive, at least as far as he knew. Yeah, he was most likely imagining things, but well, one could hope, right?

He doesn't recall how much timed passed, probably some minutes, but he was already light-headed when talking to Felix, both of them discussing the complexity of pigeons' lives and how fascinating they were. Minho had dissapeared to the bathroom for a moment, leaving him unsupervised, so really it was his fault. When he returned, he stared at the table with a frown.

-She hasn't returned yet? -he looked at his watch, then at Jisung's empty sides.

The boys looked around too.

-I don't think so.

-There's a shit ton of people, maybe she's struggling to get through. - Felix shrugged his shoulders. - And it's harder while carrying drinks.

Jisung worried a bit, but quickly recomposed. Knowing Vivi, she would growl at anyone that got in her way and step over them if necessary. She would be fine.

But for some reason, Minho only frowned deeper. He turned his head on all directions, looking almost frantically for something. Jisung noticed how his eyes got lighter and his sharp fangs started to grow.

He was activating his hunting senses. He usually did it when they were in big crowds and one of them accidentally strayed too far from the group, so he could find them quickly. But why would he activate them now? They were all okay, and Vivi would come back soon. Weird...

Then Changbin called their attention.

-Hold on, I see her. She's right there..oh, and she got my favourite! I love her!

Jisung turned at the direction and there she was, a tray filled with drinks in her hand and the other fixing her collar. She was talking to the bartender, who was casually leaning against the counter and explaining something. They were both smiling, acting like they knew each other.

Jisung could sense the guy was an alpha too, his pheromones were pretty damn recognizable. He exuded confidence and strenght, but unlike Minho, his aura felt softer and more aproachable at first sight.

He felt something churn in his chest at the sight of Vivi giggling at his comments and clearly in no hurry to return. He knew it was stupid. He carried her mark his neck, imprinted in his skin for the world to see. There should be no doubt who she wanted.

Before he could say anything, he heard Felix gasping quietly besides him and grab his arm. Then Jisung felt it too. A thick, low growl sounded next to him and made him want to hide under the table.

Minho had his fists clenched on his pants, eyes darker than ever and fixed on the bartender. He clicked his tongue with a humourless smile and walked towards them with long steps.

-Uh oh, that doesn't look good - Changbin muttered.

Jisung stared at his boyfriend, wary and confused. He had the exact same face when someone flirted with Jisung, or he flirted with them, or when he was in danger. A gaze that promised a very uncomfortable time to whoever poor soul was involved.

He didn't knew if it was for Vivi or the bartender this time, but one thing was clear: He needed to hear it himself, so he stood up quickly and aproached them, just enough to listen without being seen.

-Having fun, I see. - Minho stopped right in front of them. Vivi muttered some curses while the other alpha looked at him curiously.

-What do you want? -she barely concealed her annoyment.

He scoffed, crossing his arms at her with a forced grin.

-Seriously? So this is why you offered to refill the drinks, to flirt with a random guy? You're really something else.

-For fuck's sake, Minho, we're just having a normal conversation. Can't I do anything without your input?

-Normal converstation? You look ready to throw yourself at him. What is it? You stop being the centre of attention for five minutes and start acting like a whore? -he let out an humourless chuckle.

Jisung wanted to bang his head against the counter. What the hell? Couldn't he speak without putting his foot in his mouth? That was too much even for him.

Vivi clenched the tray, eyes darker too and full of murderous intent. Suddenly, the other alpha growled at him and pushed him back with a hand on his chest.

-Hey, back the fuck off, dude. We were just chatting, no need to be an asshole. - he shook his head. - No wonder she prefers my company tho, if this is what awaits her back there.

Vivi threw him an intense glare, making him confused, and Minho turned his head at him slowly. The tension turned so thick out of a sudden that Jisung felt he couldn't breathe. It seemed to be the same for the rest, since people started to move further from the three.

-The fuck did you say, dipshit? -his voice sounded scarily calm.

-Minho, that's enough. Leave. -she grabbed his arm anxiously, and he didn't pull back. Jisung didn't recall them touching each other unless it was to fight or accidental.

-I said that I understand she preferred to stay here, given your psycopathic attitude. Guys like you don't know how to treat alpha women like they deserve.

Minho laughed mockingly.

-Oh, let me guess, you do?

-Better than you, definitely. I would be more than glad to prove it. - he gave her a knowing look. Her eyes widened.

Everything happened in a flash, but Jisung remembers how Minho growled loudly and how he held the other alpha by the throat, pressing him against the very same counter. There were gasps and whispers around them.

His face was distorted to show his true side, the wolf side. Eyes twinkling in black, covering the entire pupil, and fangs fully out, showing them in a snarl. The other boy mirroring his stance, both glaring at each other and struggling. Their pheromones were so strong it got everyone who wasn't an alpha move away in fear, even Jisung felt the need to escape.

-Say that again, you son of a bitch. I dare you.

-Go fuck yourself. You barged here, acting like a dick, and expect me to bow down to you? She should give you the boot and be with someone at her level.

-She doesn't need anyone else. She knows better, so shut your mouth before I break it.

-Why? Because it hurts your ego?

-Because I'll fucking kill anyone she dares to leave me for.

Jisung can't hear anything after.

There's...so much he has to process. So much signals in just a few seconds.

"Leave me". Not him, or us. "Me".

Like she's actually his, not just a third-party or the "homewrecker". He speaks of the possibility of her leaving like it'll affect him too, beyond what Jisung would feel.

Then a sudden realization hits him: This isn't a first time thing.

Just how long has this been going on under his nose? How could he not see it?

And most importantly, what is this warm feeling growing inside his chest?

Vivi finally intervenes, stepping between them and yanking Minho backwards with harsh force. She bares her own fangs and flashing eyes the moment they try to growl at her, asserting her dominance too.

-I said enough. You're embarrassing yourselves. -she glares at Minho. - You just don't know when to stop, don't you? I can't so much breathe without you ruining it.

She walks away from them, towards the bathrooms hall, leaving the drinks behind. Minho doesn't waste a second before following her hurriedly, annoyed. Jisung does the same, if only to get them alone and ask them what the fuck was that.

There was a problem, however: Their legs were longer than his and he soon lost sight of them. He guided himself through the smells, until he found them again, both standing strangely close and speaking in angry voices. Minho's agressive pheromones were still coming off waves from his body, but Vivi didn't even blink, holding his piercing eyes with her usual defiance.

-I just can't believe you pulled that shit, Lee. God, how can you be so inmature?

-I'm sorry for interrupting your eye-fucking session with the guy.

-For fuck's sake, Minho, there wasn't any "fucking"! I just had him refill the bottles and then he started to talk to me. I wasn't going to be a rude bitch and push him off, like you do. -she scoffed. - Besides, he was being ten times nicer than you've ever been. It's rare to find such chemistry with another alpha male, you know? So forgive me for indulging him.

Minho doesn't like that comment, which it's obvious when he pushes her against a wall with a low growl. She stumbles at the shove but quickly recomposes herself, laying her weight against the wall with her arms crossed. Like having Minho caging her like that, faces inches away from hers, is completely normal. Jisung never understood her nonchalantly in these cases (he always crumbled when Minho acted like that) but her indifference was very hot too.

-Shut the fuck up. We both know that whiny bitch wouldn't have met your high standards. - he relaxes a bit.- And you're utterly incapable of looking at anyone but Jisung, which I respect.

-If you know that already, what was that about? I'll never betray him, so why-

-And me? What about me, uh? Would it be easier for you to betray me, then?

She looks bewildered at first, then wary, with some kind of understanding in her eyes.

-Minho...-she sighs.

-He was devouring you with his filthy eyes, like he had any right to do so. -he gritted his teeth, his fists clenching next to both sides of her head. - And you were letting him-shit, i can still smell him.

-I don't care if he wants me. I know where my place is, as you so kindly told him. -she replies acidly. - I'm not interested in fucking someone else. It's just, well, it felt nice to get along so well with a male alpha for once. To not be constantly "faring my teeth", expecting an attack or an insult to defend myself from. -she sighs, sounding more tired. - Simply talking to someone that understands me in ways others can't, with no violence.

Silence reigns in the hall, and Jisung feels his chest constrict at her words. He's so used to see her fighting Minho back, see her so confident and allmighty...he never considered she might felt a bit lonely. That ,maybe, she craved that sense of comradery with other alphas, that mutual understanding that only comes from those who are like you. Who share your same instincts and body functions.

Something Jisung couldn't give her, and Minho never tried to.

The older male seems thoughtful for a bit, his frown even softening a little. He breathes on her mouth.

-You don't need others for that, specially not men. -his voice is low, almost a whisper, and his eyes don't move from hers. - I'm right here.

His fingers move to brush a strand of hair from her face. Her shoulders tense.

-And you know -his nose brushes her ear as his fingers trace the veins of her neck. - how well we understand each other. -She doesn't move, just blinks at him.

Jisung can't.fucking.breathe.

What the fuck is this?!

He feels his skin getting warmer and warmer, his palms sweaty and his throat dry. It's like the world is spinning around him, deadly fast, and he can't keep up. He's receiving too many signals, too many messages in a too short time, and his half-drunk ass brain can't process them all.

"and you know how well understand each other"

It could've been sarcastic, that would've been Jisung's assumption, considering their relationship. But that was before he saw Minho's reaction to that bartender, before seeing Vivi touching him in a comforting gesture and Minho accepting it.

Before seeing this scene in front of him. This...whatever it's happening right now.

Jisung has seen those gazes in their eyes a handful of times, and it's always directed at him. The hunger and the heavy breathing, usually as they both wreck him to tears. In his most secret fantasies, he can pretend they look at each other like that too.

Maybe he's in a dream right now?

His eyes are fixed in them, barely blinking, in case he mixes a crucial second. The two dominant beasts keep staring into each other's eyes, enganging in a silent battle for who's weaker. However, the way their mouths brush, Minho's slow fingers and Vivi's mid-open lips, it feels less like an argument and more like..a prelude for something else.

Jisung feels the blood rush to his dick at a worrying speed. His pants get tighter and uncomfy as they continue to seize each other with that fucking bedroom eyes. He has no other definition.

He's faint when he sees Vivi's arm sliding up to Minho's neck, hugging him by the shoulders, as the other grabs his belt.

-Min..-she whispers, her lips brushing his as she speaks, and both men take deep, shaky breaths. She looks at him in wonder.

Then her mouth moves next to his ear, teeth nibbling the skin.

-A whore, you said?

And her knee collides against Minho's very delicate zone, inmediatly making him jump away from her. Even Jisung flinches in ghost pain, shocked.

Holy shit, what was that about?!

While Minho groans in the floor, face all scrunched up and furrowed eyebrows, Vivi crouchs next to him and snarls.

-Call me a whore again and I'll kick them all the way to your guts -she spits out.- Fucking asshole.

She stood up and left the hall hurriedly with angry steps, the clicking of her heels resonating in the now quiet, unmoving hall.

Jisung stood in the dark, his croch now completely soft again, and frozen. Minho muttering curses as he stood up caught his attention and he eventually ran to him, pretending he didn't witness anything.

-Hyung, what happened? I lost you guys in the crowd, and when I finally find you I see her leaving with smoke coming out her nose and you here. What the hell? -he grabs him by his arms, pushing him up and worriedly checking between his legs. He hopes there's not an irremedable damage...

Minho growls at her mention and hastily brushes Jisung off, now cursing loudly.

-Fucking bitch -he readjusted his shirt. - She and her twisted little games. Ohh, when I get my hands on her again, she better pray..

-The only one who's going to pray it's you. -Minho stared at him, confused. -What? You think I didn't see what you did to that poor man? I'm pissed, Lee Minho. You ruined our night with your shit again, so pray that the couch is specially comfy and warm tonight.

The alpha's eyes widen almost comically. Almost, because Jisung can't find it in himself to see anything comically now.

Before he tries to explain himself, Jisung leaves to follow Vivi's trail. Definitely not thinking about that weird, intense display from earlier. Yep, definitely not remembering. It was probably a misunderstanding from the alcohol, yeah.

That said, he couldn't help but pay a bit more attention to his partners since that night.

Initially nothing seemed different. The usual bickering, the backhanded compliments, the pranks aimed to hurt rather than laugh, the shattered furniture from their fights, the noise complaints from neighbours. There was nothing about them that could lead anyone to think they felt anything other than hatred for each other. Jisung started to assume he imagined everything back in the club, that the alcohol messed up with this senses.

But there were these tiny details, rare and hard to notice unless you were looking closely, that triggered his observational skills. Like when he caught them once in the kitchen, heatily arguing about what they should eat that day. It wasn't anything strange...except for Minho's slender fingers playing with the belt loop of her jeans as she spoke, and her own hands grasping the front of his sweater.

Or how insistent was Minho about undoing her bra strings with her shirts on, as another antic to annoy her. It wasn't weird for him to use all the tricks in his book to piss her off, but Jisung finally realized how often he relied on that particular one. And most curiously, how Vivi's reactions seemed more amused than irritated. Or the way she always picked on when Minho's shirt collar was off and took it upon herself to fix it, even if grumpily and still commenting how horrible he looked.

When they had sex, everything was a competition and Jisung the playground. They focused mostly on driving his mind to new limits with pleasure and leave him shaking in the bed, trying to outdo the other in who could pull more orgasms out of the omega, or who got the best reactions from him. This tended to include attacking each other in the duration of it, which meant biting and scratching the other until the skin was covered in bruises and even blood sometimes. In the haze of his overstimulated mind, Jisung struggled to remember the exact moments when this happened, and it's not like he didn't leave his own share of marks on them too, so he couldn't be sure which was his and theirs.

Regardless, he couldn't help but question their fixation for always bruising each other, one way or another. In and outside the bedroom.

Truly, it was only a matter of time that the truth was exposed for Jisung. And in a quite interesting way.

He was out for some emergency shopping for his partners' upcoming rut, leaving them at home fighting for the TV remote control. Just when he was paying for the stuff, he got a message for one of his neighbours and sighed tiredly. They only had each other's numbers to talk about important matters about the apartment building...or to complain to Jisung about the noise from his flat, usually caused by his partners.

"Mr Han, I understand that, as young people, you tend to have certain physical needs and enjoy satiating them with your lovers, but could you please do it a bit more quietly? My ears would very much appreciate it. Please and thank you"

Jisung could perfectly imagine her passive agressive voice as she said that. He chuckled at it, shaking his head and closing the phone.

But wait, what? What "intimate activities" she was talking about? He was out of the house and as far he was concerned, Minho and Vivi were the only ones there.

"They must be breaking stuff again. Jeez" It happened more often that he'd like. They never held back on their "disagreements" and they ended up ruining furniture more than once. Broken glass, thrown down chairs, cracks in the walls, etc.

He told them he'll take longer to go back home, since he also wanted to get some coffee first, but he decided to return inmediatly this time, leaving the drinks behind. He was sick of replacing his stuff because of their lack of self-control, and he also refused to suffer another embarrasing lecture from the landlord.

As Jisung went up the stairs to his apartment, he distinguished the noises of bodies repeteadly colliding against the wall and things falling down the ground, either dragged or kicked out of the way. He wouldn't be susprised they were actually throwing stuff at each other.

When he got to the door, however, he had a strange feeling in his chest. He looked back at all those small details he picked on between them for the past weeks, and that very particular interaction in the club that he still wasn't totally sure it happened.

His hand moved the doorknob slowly, finding what appeared the aftermath of a battle inside, and he felt his body pressure go down abruptly. Chairs thrown to the floor, furniture moved out of place, collisions on the wall, the usual...along with a pair of shorts and a crumpled shirt. Both clothes seemingly tore open, like they were ripped off crudely.

But that wasn't the only reason his heart suddenly stopped, choking him. No. It was the loud, angry growls coming from the bedroom, followed by some occasional moans.

With trembling legs, he walked in that direction, slowly and quietly to not be detected. On the way, he found a belt, Minho's pants and the crop top Vivi had been wearing before he Jisung left. Or what was left of them, now turned into shreds of cloth.

A familiar angry voice sounded from the bedroom.

-Watch it, asshole, this is one of my favourite p-ah! -she stopped halfway to moan.

-Shut it. You shouldn't be wearing anything, then I wouldn't have to tear it off. - Minho. He sounded breathless, urgent even, but Jisung knew every note of his voice to feel his smirk as he talked.

They spoke in rushed tones, clashing against something as they did. She chuckled.

-Please, still with excuses? You're a fucking animal. Even if I walked around naked, you'll lunge at me to sink your-

Minho growled and Jisung distinctively heard another thud, harder than the previous one.

-You really can't keep your mouth shut, right? -his voice sounds muffled by something. - Not even now.

She let out a pained moan, making Jisung's jeans even tighter around his dick.

-Mhm, if only there was something to occupy my mouth with~ -she giggled breathlessly. This time it was Minho who laughed, with that raspy voice of his from when he's very turned on.

-You're a fucking slut, I always knew. -he sighed, followed by a serie of wet, smooching sounds.

Jisung felt his head bobbling to the side and his feet melting on the floor. His fingers twitched as his member pulsed inside his boxers, fighting the urge of grasp it in his hand and aliviate himself.

He still wasn't 100% sure his brain wasn't making this up, after all.

-And yet your dick is throbbing inside this slut. -her voice becomes a sultry whisper.

Minho groaned, and Jisung's hand pushed the door slowly before he could think.

And what he saw made his knees almost give up on him.

Vivi's sweaty, bruised body pressed against the wall, the dresser digging into her lower back. She had fingerprints on her hips, dark and purple and painfully looking. Her bra was ripped from one side, exposing her right boob, while the other remained half-covered by the part that wasn't obviously mistreated. Her panties, or what was left of them, hanging from her thigh. Cuts and teeth marks painted her skin, some even bleeding a bit, but she didn't seem the slighest of bothered by it, smirking down at the equally sweaty and bruised male holding her up as he mouthed down at her neck hungrily.

Minho had his own skin decorated with red, angry lines on his back left by her sharp nails and bite marks all over his body. A hand keeping a vice grip under her knee as the other grabbed her by the waist, leaving his fingertips imprinted on her in dark, purple lines by how harshly he was grabbing her. His hips were trapped between her legs, grinding against her with slow but strong movements, as he trapped her against him tightly, almost strongly enough to cut her breath.

Jisung feels his throat go dry at the visual confirmation that, indeed, Minho's thick cock is throbbing inside Vivi's cunt. He watches as it pushes in and all the way out of her wet, inviting hole, her delicious essence dripping to the floor and enveloping Minho's hard member in a slippery sheen. Jisung licked his lips instinctively at the image, eager and craving to taste both of his favourite treats together.

Then it dawns him, within the fog of horniness and desire, that holy shit they're actually doing it, they're fucking each other what the hell-

Vivi lets out a gasp and pulls Minho's head back from her neck by grabbing his hair. He groans in protest, but has a satisfied grin on his face.

-You son of a bitch, you seriously tried to mark me?? -she seethes, her worlds trembling in anger and desire, her lips brushing his.

His grin grows more sinister.

-Like you wouldn't like me doing it, you slut. -he nuzzles her collarbone, letting his sharp teeth caress her skin.

She growls and pushes herself off the wall, making Minho's stumbling backwards and towards the bed. He quickly grabs her thighs to keep her up, before breathing sharply when she nibbles her earlobe, licking it after.

-God, I'm going to fucking destroy you. -he groans, and his voice sounds so deep and raspy it makes Jisung's painfully hard cock start leaking in his pants. Whenever that voice comes out of Minho, it means Jisung is going to get fucked mercilessly for the alpha's sole pleasure, and his body has the reminders of it impregnated in his cells.

In a swipe movement, Minho turned her around and fell into the bed with her still in his arms, caging her body against the matress and devouring her mouth, ripping off the rest of her already destroyed underwear. A messy fight for dominance begins, like everything that goes on between them, with tongues and spit and wet sounds along with the skin colliding against each other. She finishes getting rid of his boxers, and Jisung knew he couldn't get any harder.

His hand was squeezing the head of his cock before his brain could process it was happening, pants undone and boxers right on his knees, hastly discarded just enought to let his hand in. His eyes rolled back white at the so needed relief, biting his lip painfully to keep a high-pitched moan inside his mouth, along with his growing drool.

A loud slap echoed in the room, followed by a whine and some thrashing in the sheets.

-Aw, there she is. Are you going to make those adorable sounds I like so much? -he grinned against her lips, a string of saliva connecting them. He traced her mouth with enraptured attention as the other travelled slowly from her ass to her inner thighs. She groaned with a pout, hitting him with her knee to push him, making him tsk and sigh dramatically. -I guess not now.

-Stop talking and fuck me already. It's all you're good for. -her tone was exactly the same kind of annoyed as when she spoke to him usually, but there was also this underlayed impatience and desesperation in it that told a different story. That, and the way her legs wrapped around his waist to lock him in place.

He chuckled, almost delighted.

-So you admit my dick is good enough? -he nibbled her lips. -Looks like we're progressing.

She groaned and tried to slap him. He caught her wrist mid-air, his cheeky smile fading off and replaced by a furious scowl. He grabbed both of her hands and pressed them to both sides of her head.

-Ungrateful, insolent bitch. You don't deserve my dick inside you. I should've-

She shifted her weight to her legs and switched positions, trapping him underneath her with his waist still between her knees. Before he could verbalize his surprise, she grabbed his throat.

-Minho -she sighed as her nails drew some blood in his neck. He groaned.- Shut the fuck for once, would you?

And she proceeds to ride him at an inhuman speed.

He started to let raspy ah's as she picked up her pace, throwing his head back as a a sheen of sweat became visible on his forehead and broad chest, which was also covered in bloody scratches. She moaned in pure satisfaction, burying her head on his shoulders and biting. She continued to fuck herself on him, keeping him inmovilized from his hips and down.

-Look at you now, so c-compliant and cute. This is-fuck!-is how you should be everyday.

-I swear to God, Vivi, let me-oh shit-let me move or else.

-Or what?

That was it. Jisung knew at that moment that porn was ruined for him forever. Nothing, not even his most recurrent fantasies, would ever compare to this absolute wonder his eyes were witnessing. He tried to match the tempo of his own strokes to that of Vivi's hips as Minho's dick kept dissapearing inside her, his pre-cum already falling in drops to the floor and staining his jeans. He bite back a moan at the image, eyes growing wet at the overwhelming emotions and pleasure.

Then, Minho growled and wrapped an arm around her back, while the other sneaked in between their bodies. She whined in protest, fighting to break off his grip, until her eyes widened and she let out a sinful mewl. He chuckled darkly, and Jisung held his breath when he realized the older alpha's fingers rubbing her clit.

-Oh? Where did all that bravery go, kitty? You were so high up there..

-Oh my god, finally! Don't stop, Minho. Don't you fucking dare to stop, or I'll rip out your throa-ah!

Her head fell on the pillows beside his head, gripping his shoulders as she turned into a moaning mess, but Minho wasn't much better, letting out a series of curses and groans himself. Vivi threw a choked scream as her legs trembled, her wetness dripping unto Minho's hand and his cock. He followed shortly after, biting her neck hard and closing his eyes shut, while his release leaked from her cunt and got mixed with her own essence. Jisung came seconds later, gagging himself with his shirt to not be heard and even letting a single tear run down his cheek.

In the process, the vice grip of her legs softened and allowed Minho to move, which he didn't waste a second for as he wrapped his arms around her and switched positions again, this time with her underneath. He grabbed her wrists with one hand, the other still occupied with her reddened clit.

Jisung couldn't fucking believe it. Already? Didn't they have any refraction period or something? There was no way they recovered that fast!

But apparently they were. She hugged his hips with her legs, fixing her posture while pushing him closer to her, until their fronts were glued together. The realization that they never let Minho's dick separate from her pussy not even few inches made Jisung's head burn.

Worse? He could see the outline of the alpha's still hard cock in her fucking belly, as he rocked into her again.

She sleazed her right leg towards his shoulder and he rushed to held it in place. His other han gripped her hips viciously, leaving more fingerprints shaped bruises in her skin, but she didn't seem to notice. He slowed down his thrusts to shift his posture and the new angle brought another delicious mewl out of her.

-Fuck yeah, t-there it is. Am I-ah!-hitting it right, princess?

-Holy shit, yes! Rig-hnng-right there, Min. Keep going!

The bed started to move wildly with them, the wood creaking getting louder and louder, and the constant banging of the frame against the wall almost mutting their own noises. Jisung didn't dare to think what the neighbour might be thinking now. Maybe she was punching the door to complain and they didn't hear it.

Unfortunately, Jisung couldn't bring himself to give a single fuck about her comfortability or her poor, conservative ears at the moment.

He was already spent, still half-floating in his post-nut haze. His dick couldn't get hard again, not that quick at least, so he remained watching them, memorizing every single angle and sound they made together.

They stopped talking altogether, not even to argue. They fucked each other like they were fighting, trying to get the upper hand over the other, a race for dominance and authority that left nothing but chaos behind. Jisung loved the show, but he knew his Omega body wouldn't resist the agressive, blood-thirsty handling they had going on.

The female alpha's sharp nails got entangled on Minho's hair and pulled viciously, her other hand scratching his lower back, getting near his butt. Suddenly, she slapped them.

Minho gasped at the sting, slowing down his movements for a bit, only to let out a deep growl and squeeze her even harder against his body, not even a wheeze of air fitting between them. His fangs made contact with her shoulders and sunk them in, making her whine and fidget in his hold. His hands begin to play with her nipples, which Jisung just noticed had teeth mark around it (when did that happen??), twisting them and even mouthing them, letting his spit fall into the skin.

-I hate you so much -she panted.

-Yeah? You do? -he was just as breathless,

-You can't even imagine. -she bite his neck, sucking a big bruise in it, along with the many others she left.

-Aw, princess. -their lips brushed. -I hate you more.

Their lips collided with hunger, and Jisung's cock started to grow interested again. Tongues sucking on each other and joining the cacophony of wet sounds filling the bedroom.

Of course, she wouldn't be the alpha Jisung adored if she gave up without a fight. She sunk her nails right on Minho's buttcheeks, using them as leverage to seize his thrusts, and licked his ear. He panted, biting her nipples harder and breathing sharply through the nose. Then she pushed both of them, until they were both sitting with her on top of his lap. Her hands grasped his wrists, pressing them behind him as she took control over the situation again. He tried to argue, but his voice died quickly when her own fangs caught the skin of his neck again, right where his pulse was.

Her hips kept rutting against his, too fast for Jisung to even think, making Minho moan and sigh in delight.

-W-wait, Vivi, shit, slow d-down for fuck's sake! I'm...

His whole body freezed suddenly, his back going all rigid and his eyes closed shut. He buried his nose into her chest, breathing in deeply, as his hips began to shook violently and spurts of white started to drip down to the sheets. Again.

He panted heavily, blinking to focus again. But she didn't stop. She wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders and let out a high-pitched moan.

-A little more, please, I-oh my god- I'm almost-

She screamed, her body trembling too as she cames, a gush of wetness soaking Minho's pelvis and the sheets underneath. He held her firmly against him, their foreheads pressed together. They had drops of sweat running down their skin, hair plastered on their faces, lips all wet and mistreated. Minho's hand traced imaginary lines on her waist, and she lazily counted the hickeys around his skin.

They looked like an erotic painting, one Jisung could have only imagined before today, and that he wanted to capture in his brain for the rest of his life.

They laid back on the bed, facing each other, and their sexes still connected because obviously.

Out of sudden, Vivi started to giggle.

-What now, brat? -Minho asked annoyed, his voice raspy with post-orgasm exhaustion. Curiously, his face didn't seem as bothered as he sounded.

-Nothing~ -he raised his eyebrows at her, and she relented. - Just remembering how you actually ended up ruining my clothes, so now you'll have to buy me everything new.

He scoffed.

-Please, I was joking. Like hell I'll spend my money on you. -he rubbed his eyes.- I don't owe you shit.

-Oh, screw you, Minho. -she attempted to move away, his cock slipping out of her, but he grabbed her quickly and groaned.

-What are you doing? Stay right the fuck here. -he said almost petulantly, hugging her by the waist and adjusting her posture so his softening (it better be softening) member didn't get out.

-Are we sure Jisung is the clingy one here? Jeez -she had a small smile that Minho couldn't see from his angle.

The room reeked of sex, sweat and intense alpha pheromones. In short, the kind of domestic smell Jisung would gladly get home to every single day for the rest of his life.

-Well, ignoring the few accidentally broken stuff, we didn't do so bad this time, right? -she said, playing with Minho's fingers mindlessly.

-Yeah, I think-

He was interrupted by a loud noise: The bed frame collapsing beneath them and the posts shattering completely.

Jisung felt his eye twitch, arousal slowly fading in favour of anger.

Silence reigned in the room for a moment.

-You better drop that fucking grin off before I slap it, Lee Minho.

-What? I am not!

-I literally feel your mouth in my neck, I know what you're doing!

-Just say you're obsessed with my mouth and be done with it.

She let out a loud, exasperated sigh, making him chuckle more. He kissed the back of her earlobe, the softest gesture Jisung saw of him directed to someone else. She leaned back into it, like it was normal.

-This is nice. -she whispered to herself, but both men heard.

-What do you mean? -he asked in the same tone, his lips tracing the back of her throat. She looked startled.

-Nothing, forget it.

-Princess...

She looked away, dropping his fingers to fidget with the sheets instead.

-This, what we're doing now, it feels nice. -she traced imaginary lines in the matress. -It feels like you don't hate me that much, and I like it.

Now the anger moves to let the heartbreak in. Jisung has the urge to run to her and smooch her face all over, anything to not hear that sad voice from her ever again.

He looks at Minho, and his heart clenches when he sees the same sadness in his eyes, focused on her.

-You idiot -he muttered, shaking his head. -You big, incredible idiot. -he caged her with his body and kissed the bite mark on her neck, one Jisung hadn't seen before.- Can you not see it?

-I'm yours already.

Taglist (my fellow minsung girlies): @skzms @2chopsticks2eyes @linlinaert @queenmea604 @hanjisunglover @hanjibug @hyunsvngs @minsungisvreal @k-krissten @roseykat @mal-lunar-28 @thightswideforhanin (please tell me if i forgot someone, i'm really bad at tagging)

#mutual asks #minsung x reader #poly minsung #requests #skz scenarios #skz omegaverse #lee know/han jisung x reader #alpha! lee know #omega! han jisung #female alpha! reader

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