#me: how about 1.2k

[ladytauria]

Hi tauria bb 💜 can you choose a 500 word snippet from one of your published fics or wips and give us some director's commentary / insight into what you were thinking when you wrote it?

hello darling <3

instead of doing a 500 word snippet i decided to give um... entire fic commentary. basically? more or less picking out lines/sections and giving my thought process, bc it's fun to do that sometimes <3 thank you for giving me the space to---even if i did have to pick a fic by making a list and rolling a die dfghjk

i ended up picking "trust & feathers," my jaytim wing fic <3

Jason feels the blood feather break.

i had this line written down for ages before starting the prompt. before jaytim week was even announced, actually, lmao. i hadn't known when i wrote it if i was going to keep the entire fic from jason's POV or not, but i liked the line... liked it so much i used it as the summary too lmao.

Tonight, though, he’d rather be on Tim’s good side. Jason uses his codes at one of the side entrances. Tim is already waiting in the main area of the Nest when he comes in. He’s standing in front of the monitors; arms braces against his desk chair. The way his cape drapes over his shoulders, the ends sweeping over the floor, past the ends of dark primaries… It reminds Jason so strongly of Bruce that he has to stop and blink to clear the image away. He waits for the anger to rise. Prepares to swallow it down, stopping himself from lashing out at someone who—currently—doesn’t deserve it. It doesn’t come. Grief hits him instead; swelling in his chest and climbing up into his throat, threatening to choke him. He swallows hard and shakes himself before forcing his feet forward.

this is one of my favorite parts of the fic.

i don't think i've explored it a lot in fic, but. i feel like when he first starts spending time with tim---in my mind, usually post-red robin, when things are still Weird and Unsettled between all of the bats---that tim reminds him a lot of bruce despite tim's best efforts to not be bruce.

and for as much as jason respects tim's abilities, i feel like that makes it hard for them, early on.

the differences start to shine through, even at the start, until it's not so bad, but i feel like jason comparing tim to bruce is something that takes time for him to stop doing? but it was really interesting to do here because like... tim doesn't always remind jason of now bruce. he reminds tim of old bruce. bruce-before-he-died. softer-bruce. kinder-bruce. more-open-bruce. and for jason this particular moment is the first time that really hits as actual grief, rather than grief-masked-by-anger.

i couldn't explore it in the fic bc that wasn't the thesis, per se, but i like adding in little details like that. they're a treat for me. and readers. but mostly for me in the moment xD

It’s almost imperceptible, but Jason has spent longer than he would like to admit studying Tim. He knows, intimately, the lines and curves of Tim’s face; the way his mouth usually sits, the sharp slope of his nose, the droop of his eyes. If he had any talent for art at all, he thinks he could sketch Tim from memory.

if my memory serves, i believe i have a cut version of this paragraph that included a tangent about jason's stalker days. i should save it in my scribbles doc, so i remember to one day write a fic that's like. stalker!tim tropes but reversed.

i think it would be fun ;)

Tim’s surprise leaves Jason uncomfortably aware of what he’s asking. Offering. It’s not the first time he’s come to Tim for help with an injury… but he’s never offered up anything so vulnerable as an injured wing before. For a moment, he’s tempted to take it back. Go to Leslie instead—or take his chances with a bathroom mirror. He’s no Grayson, but he thinks he’s bendy enough to manage… “Let me look at it,” Tim says, surprise gone as quickly as it had come. Determination replaces it— and Jason knows there’s no turning back now.

i did my best to demonstrate tim's thought process from jason's pov haha. but tim goes through like. a few stages here. first it's shock that jason would ask him for this. tim gave jason keycodes to his nest, so clearly there's some level of trust and relationship there, but i feel like tim was never quite sure just how reciprocated it was. this is a Big Thing that jason is offering and tim knows it. it's a little humbling for him, lmfao, and there's definitely a split second of panic where he wonders if he's going to screw it up, before firmly deciding: no. no he's not. he's going to be calm and professional and prove that jason's trust in him is well placed.

Jason settles in it awkwardly; his wings fluttering. It takes more effort than it should to still them.

i tried really hard to incorporate their wings into the body language descriptions, as well as to try and imagine what a world would be like if everyone had wings, lol. the latter didn't come up so much for this fic, but i think i might try to do more with it in the next?

Abruptly, Jason decides he doesn’t care. It’s been too damn long since anyone touched his wings without the intent to break. He’ll decide later if the consequences, whatever they may be, were worth it. Tim opens his mouth, but Jason speaks first, “Sure,” he says, shrugging carelessly. “Why not?”

this part was so important to me.

in a lot of touch-starved fics, the hunger is satisfied sort of... accidentally? someone touches them, the person breaks, and melts into their arms. and look. i love that. i eat that shit up.

BUT.

i've said before but. there is is something just so... *clenches fist* to me about willing vulnerability. the choice to allow someone in. it comes up in my fics a lot and will KEEP coming up in my fics, lmfao

it's just so fucking yummy to me, to have a character ask for what they need and then be given it, no strings attached

Jason stills. He realizes, abruptly, what Tim must see—the disheveled mess of feathers, solid, flat black where they should shine like an oil slick. Grooming has always been a social activity. A way to bond with the flock, smoothing oil over hard to reach places; waterproofing feathers to make them shine. The last person to groom Jason’s feathers was Talia—and that had been long before he returned to Gotham. Since then, he’s been on his own. He’s done the best he can with a shower and some twisting but— It’s not enough.

more fun wing body language!

but also this part was semi-inspired by my absolute fave preening fic of all time: Wingipedia by startingatmidnight. it's a fanfic for the Lucifer (Netflix) show, and it's just--- god i love it so much.

but one of my fave things about it was like. the contrast between lucifer's wings groomed vs ungroomed, and so that influenced me to do that here, too haha

It’s the only sign of his nerves from before. Even the blush has faded, mostly, leaving behind only a faint rosy hue to his cheeks. Makes him look less like he’s seconds away from dying of a vitamin-D deficiency.

this line just makes me giggle

When his eyes have adjusted, he shrugs out of his jacket, folding it before draping it over the low table. Then he skims his fingers over the clasps of his armor. He hesitates. He can hear Tim moving around in the kitchen—a cabinet door shuts before water hisses from the faucet. He’s come this far. He’s not going to back out now. Jason ignores his nerves, forcing himself to undo the clasps one by one, bypassing the securities as he goes. Then he lets the chest piece fall on the table with a thud. It’s joined by his undershirt a few moments later. Finally, he unholsters his weapons, laying them carefully on the table as well. Jason stands, bare chested, in the middle of the room, several pounds lighter than he was before. Maybe he should have left the undershirt on. It would get a little messy, but who cares? The faucet turns off. Jason resists the urge to redress, sitting back down instead.

a few things to comment on here!

when his eyes have adjusted: i like to imagine that their domino lenses filter out the glare of headlights/streetlights? like yeah, fics usually have it where they can flip them up too so maybe he should have done that when walking in but. anyway. but that's what that line is for if anyone was curious fghj

tim cleaning up the first aid kit and washing his hands is, of course, just good hygiene and safety practice. BUT it was also an attempt on his part to give jason the chance to change his mind. if jason had left here, he would have been disappointed, but i think he wouldn't have brought it up again unless jason avoided him for too long after, lol

and then finally: more of that 'choosing to be vulnerable' stuff. jason has a chance to leave, to take it back, and he doesn't. instead he deliberately and literally strips out of his armor <3

Jason’s hands clench tighter, blunt nails digging into the meat of his palms. The pain is grounding. Gives him something else to focus on. Something other than the way nerves light up under his skin; prickling in a way that borders on painful. Tim keeps stroking Jason’s wing, tugging gently on his feathers to make them lay straight. With each pass, his fingers brush against Jason’s preening gland. Each touch winds him up a little tighter; the muscles in his back and shoulders bunching into knots under his skin. He has to bite his tongue not to tell Tim to just get the fuck on with it already. Maybe Tim can tell that Jason is close to bolting. He buries his hand in Jason’s feathers as his thumb presses down on Jason’s oil gland. The noise he makes is low and strangled—he presses his mouth into his arms, breath hot and humid against his skin. He can feel himself shaking. Despite himself, he finds his wing pushing back into Tim’s hand—and Tim accommodates him, pressing firmer still as he massages around and over the gland. Jason can just feel the oil dribbling from it, slightly warmer than body temperature. He thinks he might be crying; silent tears beading on his lashes before rolling down his cheeks. If Tim can tell, he doesn’t say.

the entire preening section gave me so much trouble. i really wanted to sit down and nail the tone just right; to really delve deep into the intimacy. 'cause like... the premise is that jason hasn't let anyone near his wings, right? and sure. i said why, but i wanted to show too. to give it proper emotional weight, and make his choice to be vulnerable, and the anxiety and apprehension around it, feel like it meant something.

emotional payoff, i guess.

Tim chuckles. He has to rise to his feet as he moves further down Jason’s wing. He stops to gather more oil first, smearing it further down the ridge of his wing, where it starts to coat his primaries.

i researched wing anatomy for this fic. i wasn't going to. i was just gonna sit down and write based off of my experience reading wingfic. but i couldn't not do it. and then once i looked up what different feather types were called-- well. i quickly realized that while a couple names are recognizable not all of them are lmfao

i have forgotten what i learned but im pretty sure i remembered take worldbuilding notes

Tim starts over again; combing through the soft, downy feathers near his spine. The first glancing brush of his fingers against Jason’s second preening gland isn’t quite as overwhelming as the first. It’s still a lot. He may have grown used to it on the other wing, but this one is still unused to touch. The nerves under his skin prickle again. Tim takes it slow, just like before. By the time he starts to massage Jason’s gland, the prickling has become a pleasurable tingling. He sinks into it with a sigh. Jason drifts, allowing himself to lose track of time entirely. Drowsiness weighs heavy on his limbs; his thoughts turning syrupy. Tim continues stroking his wing long past when he’s finished grooming it. Jason doesn’t notice at first; not until he realizes Tim has moved back to the middle of his wing. Maybe Jason should say something, but he’s not ready for this moment to be over, either. All things must end, though, and this is no exception. Tim’s hand slips from his wing.

i don't remember which line it was exactly but i remember having trouble with this section and reaching out to one of the servers im in for help. ty again abyss and marz <3

“Do… If you want, I could… return the favor,” Jason offers, wincing internally at how hesitant he sounds. He doesn’t realize how much he wants to until Tim shakes his head, and disappointment blooms in his chest. Makes sense, though. In Tim’s place, he’s not sure he’d want himself grooming his wings either. “Not tonight.” Tim glances at the window. The first light of dawn is starting to creep over the horizon. Jason’s brow furrows. He hadn’t realized they’d been here that long—that he had taken so many hours of Tim’s time. He turns back to Tim, opening his mouth to apologize, but this time, Tim is the one to speak first. “But…” There’s something almost nervous creeping around the edges of his expression. “Maybe another day?”

tim's refusal here isn't just about the dawn coming up lmao. it's also definitely because both of them are overwhelmed, emotionally, from this experience haha

but it's also an excuse to see jason again--to see if they can keep this quiet intimacy / new closeness they've developed.

and also ofc i had to throw in a little self-deprecating jason bc i'm me

Jason gives him a two-fingered salute. “‘Til next time,” he says, and then slips out the window, and into the morning light.

i actually really wanted to write part two with this and have them all be one fic, but i was running out of time for jaytim week at this point and while i could have posted late i really wanted to post on time, bc i never had before.

and also this was written and posted in the middle of a really bad couple of months for me, lol, and i wasn't sure i had it in me to write more at the time

but for now! this is where the fic ends <3 i do have the sequel started; i finished the first section and am about to move to tim showing up at jason's place ;) but who knows how long it'll take to write

thank you again for sending this ask and giving me the opportunity to ramble <3

and ALSO thank you to anyone who read all of this, lmao. i hope you enjoyed!!!

[jacknought]

"garrus vakarian was the only one who never moved on after shepards death" who is hoarding this mysterious copy of mass effect where garrus, who definelty wasn't thinking about quitting his job already, doesn't start a vigilante group on an impoverished former mining planet and the others aren't heavily impacted by shepards death as well? who has this other version mass effect where garrus definitely doesn't start doing his own shit and just sits around lamenting shepards death all day long

[kinnbig]

HUH i randomly lost like 300-400 followers overnight wtf

[leftdestiny-posts]

Sometimes my legs are made out of iron and stone. And I can only look as everything passes by

[fatherbrat]

ONE LAST TIME, R. SUNA

sum. two months into your relationship with your current boyfriend, your ex-fwb finally sends you a voicenote to let you know exactly how he feels about it.

feat. rintaro suna

cw. ex-fwb!suna, cheating, mutual masturbation (kinda lol), jealousy, dirty talk, anal mention, pillow humping, possessiveness, degradation

wc. 1.2k

When you posted your first official pictures of you and your new boyfriend, you had expected Suna to react…negatively. You basically braced for impact the moment you hit post, but all you got from him was an Instagram notification and two texts.

sunarin liked your post.

rin ;)

lmk if you want me to delete our pics.  and hmu when you two break up :p

You never bothered replying, initially not sure how to reply, and then forgetting about the texts entirely. The two of you barely have any contact for a few weeks after that, but he's obviously keeping up with your socials; liking every post and viewing every story. It doesn't bother you, but it's weird going cold turkey on your relationship like that. You had expected him to reach out for some sort of closure. You wanted him to. 

Halloween swings by in no time, and (much to you boyfriend’s dismay) you dress up as a sexy nurse. You don’t remember much of the night, but you do know that you posted a picture of you and your friends all dressed up on your story before getting blackout drunk. 

Your phone dies early on in the night. Your friends take good care of you up until it’s time to bring you back home, and you don’t wake up until the afternoon. You don’t check your phone until a couple hours after that—long after it's been turned on and charged to 100%. 

When you finally check it, two particular notifications catch your attention. 

sunarin liked your story. 

rin ;)

Voice Message

The voice message is 12 minutes long. 

You exit your texts immediately, opting to distract yourself by tending to your other notifications. It doesn’t help much. Your mind races, wondering what he was talking about for so long and if it was really so important that he reached out after almost four months of near-silence. 

You toss your phone onto your bed, shaking your head. You try to ignore it, cleaning the bathroom and folding the laundry and vacuuming the living room all in an effort to forget about the lengthy recording sitting in your phone. 

But it doesn’t take long for the curiosity gnawing at you to win. 

You practically run back to your bedroom, grabbing your phone and sitting cross-legged in the middle of the bed. Your fingers move quickly across the screen, hitting play without hesitation. 

The first 8 seconds are nearly silent, and you start to wonder if it’s possible that he sent such a long message by mistake.

But then you hear a heavy sigh.

“I like your costume.” His tone is hushed, like he’s telling you a secret. “You look hot.”

There’s another moment of silence, like he’s giving you a chance to change your mind and stop listening. 

But then Suna moans and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. 

“You never answered my text, y’know. When I asked if you wanted me to delete our pictures. So, uh, I kept ‘em.”

Oh. 

Oh fuck.

“I’m looking at one right now. It’s from last Halloween. When you-“ His breath hitches. “When you went as a Playboy Bunny.”

You remember. Suna dressed as Hugh Hefner and the two of you went to a party together. Then he took you back to his apartment and fucked you while you were still wearing the bunny ears and bowtie. 

You’re pretty positive you’re not wearing the bodysuit in the picture he’s looking at. 

“I don’t know how much of this night you actually remember, but I can describe the picture for you.”

You tense, anticipation sending goosebumps up your arms. 

“You’re kneeling on the ground, looking up at the camera, and you’ve still got those bunny ears on your head.”

This voice message is going in the last direction you thought it would.  Is he—?

“You’ve got cum all over your face, baby.” He laughs to himself before continuing. “And you’re sticking your tongue out like a fucking whore.”

Suna takes a ragged breath, a sound you're all too familiar with. It confirms your suspicions—he’s definitely jerking off. 

“That was a good night. We had a lot of good nights.” He sounds miffed all of a sudden. “I seriously doubt the boyfriend is fucking you as good as I did.”

You suppress a shiver. A pang of guilt heats your chest at the mention of your boyfriend. You should stop listening. Delete the message. Tell him to delete the pictures and then probably block him. 

Or you could let the message keep playing. 

Suna inhales sharply, followed by a shaky moan. You swear you can hear the sound of his fist stroking his dick. 

“I hope you’re not letting him put it in your ass like you let me. That’s our thing, okay?”

Under different circumstances you would have laughed. 

“Fuck,” he hisses. “And I hope you’re not letting him spit in your fucking mouth. Or–shit–doing that thing where you’d suck me off with your head hanging upside down off the bed.” He falters at the end of the sentence, groaning into the phone.

“I’m not gonna–” he interrupts himself, sighing deeply. “I’m not gonna pretend I’ve been happy for you. I miss you.”

You feel hot all over, a heady combination of annoyance and arousal and embarrassment. There’s a dull throbbing between your legs and in the back of your mind you wonder if this is what Suna wanted when he sent the message. 

“Just–just let me fuck you one more time. Okay princess? I’ll make it sooo good for you,” he whines. You can hear his hand picking up speed.

“It’s still early. Two months is nothing, it won’t even count as cheating.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. “God, just one last time. Please?”

Without thinking, you grab a pillow and position yourself over it in a straddle. You won’t let him fuck you, but that doesn’t mean he can’t make you come one last time.

“I promise I’ll do that thing you like with my tongue. And you can pick all the positions if you want to.” There’s a tremble in his voice. “Or just lay there. I’ll do all the work.”

You grind into the pillow beneath you, picturing the expression you know he’d be wearing if he were in front of you–batting those dark eyelashes with raised eyebrows, just barely able to control the smug curve of his lips.

Heat pools in your gut and a whimper falls from your lips. Suna keeps talking.

“I know you miss me. You have to. You’re probably touching yourself to this right now.” 

You gasp softly and rock your hips faster.

“Such a fucking slut.” You hear the telltale quiver in his voice that tells you he’s getting close. “My fucking slut.”

You moan, his words giving you flashbacks.

“Oh fuck. Fuck, I’m coming,” he rasps, before letting off a series of moans and whimpers that almost make you concede. You grind harder into the pillow beneath you, imagining Suna in his room, chest heaving, talking into the phone and making himself come to pictures of you. 

That does it. A tsunami of pleasure washes over you, forcing your body to tense before you go limp, collapsing onto your bed with a shudder.

You and Suna breathe in tandem, both of you catching your breath. 

You hear another laugh through the phone. “Damn, that was a lot.” There’s the sound of sheets rustling. “Kinda made a mess, princess.”

He’s silent for another few beats before clearing his throat. “Text me, okay?” he says quietly. “Please.”

The voice message ends.

part two

[kutepik]

So Fucking Domestic

(mdni 18+) How many times a week is it normal for a couple to do it? Well... You and Caleb are definitely above average.

1.2k. small hc about domestic life and boyfriend!caleb with a little bit of spicy hihi

Since you and Caleb started seeing each other officially, it was only natural that you spent more time in Skyhaven and he in Linkon. You both had such dense and strenuous routines that at any free moment you tried to be together and make the most of it. On a particular day during the first month of your relationship, you arrived at the Colonel's apartment and found some step stools placed at strategic spots in the apartment. They were large and discreet, one near the kitchen counter, another by the bathroom sink, another by the bookcase in the study and many others. The answer when you asked Caleb about it was simple: when he became a colonel and got the right to an apartment, the Fleet asked for his height to make the furniture as proportional and functional as possible for him. Now that you were spending more time there, he made sure to have those steps made at the right height for you, so that you could be as comfortable as possible. In fact, you always wondered why the sink seemed so high when you brushed your teeth, and how uncomfortable it was to cut things on the counter when you tried to cook something. Caleb was always so efficient and attentive, and you loved that about him.

A week after steps stools were added to the apartment, you were used to them. One day, while you were at the kitchen sink, peeling some apples for a quick snack, Caleb came in from a night mission.

"Hey! Want an apple?" You smiled when he hugged you from behind, sinking his face into the nape of your neck easily because of the extra height the step stool gave you.

"What a miracle to find you in the kitchen," he kissed your neck and held your hips, gluing you to him. You brought a piece of apple to his mouth over your shoulder and forced him to eat it, to shut him up. "Hmpf" He tried to speak and you turned around, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.

"How was it today?" You gave him a small kiss on the cheek.

"Boring. I just wanted to come home to you." He rubbed his cheek against yours, sighing. "Buuuut, I had time to think of something"

"Hm?" You hummed with your eyes closed, feeling the warmth of his face against yours.

"I was wondering if... You'd let me put my cock inside you without me having to ask or with any ceremony." He said in a careful voice. "Of course, if you don't want to at the moment, just tell me and I'll completely stop. I totally understand if you find it weird and don't want to do this and I pinky promise we never have to talk about it again and I'll never bring it up ev-“

"I want it!” you said and threw your head to one side. His eyes widened in surprise. "Wherever you want. No matter when you want. I trust you." You kissed one of his eyes. "And I love the idea of you fucking me without ceremony and at any time."

"God, you're going to drive me absolutely crazy. Thank you." He squeezed you in a tight hug.

Once the two of you had agreed on this, you initially thought you'd be having sex the way you always did, hard, deep, kinky, full of fluids, scratches and bites, or doing intense quickies several times a day. But no, it was simple and intimate, simply delicious. Caleb just wanted to be with you and inside you all the time.

Little by little, you realized how the stool he had ordered served more than one purpose. Sometimes you'd be doing your makeup for work, standing in front of the bathroom sink, and Caleb would simply approach you, asking about your plans for the day. As the ordinary words and dialog went on between the two of you, he would gently pull up your shirt, pull down your panties and put his cock inside you. It was addictive. The fucking step stool not only gave you the perfect height for the furniture in the house, but also to leave your ass at the right height for Caleb to find himself in you without having to hold you down, sit or lie down. It was usually like this: his cock nestling into you with slow, intimate strokes, while you both carried on chatting about anything, just spending time together.

By then, you made a habit of walking around the house in your (his) large shirt and no panties, knowing that Caleb liked to be with you, inside you, whenever he could. Of course, you still had brutal sex like two animals frequently, but it seemed that Caleb's obsession and need for you - and you for him - was able to bring about the most painfully intimate, simple and tender sex of your lives. It was just so good to trust so deeply in someone and to want someone so badly that no words or timing were needed. At one moment it was a "Can I stay here with you, baby?" and the next you were reading your book, bent over the counter, while Caleb slid his cock up and down between your folds, stroking himself against your clit, praising you and your pretty pussy. He did it not only because he wanted it, but because he could.

Sometimes he wouldn't even come, or even move. If you were watching a movie, he would surely be inside you, both of you cuddled up, relaxing after an exhausting day, cockwarming.

In fact, you liked it so much that when he didn't take the initiative, you went after him. There were times when he was reading reports, sitting on the living room sofa or in the office armchair, and you would silently approach him, fiddling with your cell phone, sit on his thighs, and soon his cock was hard and hot under his pants. Within moments, you were slowly riding his throbbing cock, while he used his thumb to caress your clit, slowly, just like the rise and fall of your hips. If you got tired, you didn't have to get up. You just kept yourself there, hugging Caleb, with his hard cock throbbing inside you, filling you up completely.

One day, talking to Tara and Simone at the pub in Linkon, the topic came up: "How many times a week is it normal for a couple to have sex?", and the girls debated curiously.

"I don't know, three or two times a week? It depends on their schedule." Simone said, sipping her drink.

"Some couples do it every day! Can you imagine? Having sex every day?" Tara said, her eyes widening. " What about you and your boyfriend? How often do you do it?" She asked, curious.

And that made you wonder. There was the mind-blowing sex, the longing sex, the dirty sex, the rough sex, the slow sex, the sex when you were reading, the sex when he was reading, the sex when you were on your cell phones, the sex when talking about anything, the sex on the kitchen counter, the sex on the bathroom sink, the bath time sex, the movie time sex, the bed time sex, the sleep time sex, the wake up time sex, the boredom time sex, the play time sex… And all you could do was blink, trying to calculate how many times a week Caleb and you had sex and it simply wasn't possible to count.

You laughed, sipped your drink and sighed.

"I don't know, I don't count." And it wasn't a lie.

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ examination table

pairing: gynecologist!rafe x reader synopsis: you go to get artificial insemination. your gyno has a different method. warnings/tags: smut, artificial insemination, unprotected piv, breeding kink, public sex, small surprise at the end, MDNI! wc: 1.2k a/n; aside from having to do a strange amount of research about ovulation, iui and me overall being against male gynos; this was fun.

rafe masterlist ♡

you couldn't resist the urge to tap the heel of your boot against the linoleum floor - rolling your golden wedding band so you wouldn't bite your freshly manicured nails. it felt like your heart was going to thump thump thump out of your chest and land on the floor in front of you.

there were only three other people in the waiting room, a few posters related to women's health decorating the otherwise plain, dull, light green walls of the office, the tick-tock of the clock and the hushed whispers of the two nurses behind the front desk being the only thing you could focus on, along with the overpowering stench of chanel no 5 that was wafting from the other customer waiting for her appointment browsing through an age-old copy of cosmopolitan.

you nearly hopped to your feet when the door to one of the offices opened, clutching your purse like it was the only thing keeping you afloat. "come in." doctor cameron said with a small smile on his lips, gesturing towards his office.

you followed the tall man into the sterile, white office, holding your arms tightly against your chest, your shoulders hunched. when doctor cameron noticed how skittish you were being, he offered a small smile, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder before using it to cup your cheek and lifting it up so you were forced to look at his freckled face, "there's no need to be nervous. this is a pretty regular procedure. you can change into the gown and lay down on the examination table."

when you let out a reluctant nod, the doctor walked further into his office, giving you some privacy. while you listened to him rifle through papers, slowly, you tugged your sweater off along with your jeans, leaving your underwear to cover your skin that was now in goosebumps while you covered yourself with the blue rustling hospital gown, until it came time to slip them off.

you took a few tentative steps towards the examination table, walking on your heels as your gynecologist turned to face you, your chart in his hands, his blue eyes skimming over the details as you sat down onto the examination table, the paper sheet rustling against the paper gown in a way that made you cringe.

"so, how many days ago did you take your last dose of clomid?"

"eight days ago." you said with a tight smile, fiddling with the hem of your gown, "and i did an ovulation test before i left home, and it said my ovulation should be at its highest."

"you've really done your homework." he chuckled, placing down the clipboard, placing his warm hand on your bare knee in a comforting gesture. "are you ready to get started? i've got your husband's specimen prepared. don't worry, the catheter won't hurt, you might just feel a bit uncomfortable for a moment."

you took a deep breath, closing your eyes and laying back as you steadied your breathing, trying your best to get comfortable. "ready." you whispered softly, opening your eyes to look up at the slightly yellow-tinted fluorescent light above you.

"it helps the sperm to travel if you've got your pelvis propped up." doctor cameron said in a slightly hushed tone, lifting your hips up and placing a pillow underneath your hips, his hands pressing your hips down to meet it, keeping them there as he looked down at you with a small smile. "there you go. are you comfortable?"

"it does." you swallow dryly, fiddling with the paper sheet underneath you, sighing. "i hope it works out. we've been trying to get pregnant for a year now."

"yeah?" he looked down at you, his eyes crinkling slightly, the feel of the pads of his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he drew small patterns to the hem of your hospital gown. "you know what people say helps with getting pregnant?"

"what?" you almost whispered, your thighs starting to form goosebumps under doctor cameron's fingers as they slowly slid under the crinkly god-ugly gown.

"orgasms." his hand continued to slide up your inner thigh, the metal of your doctor's wedding ring a pleasing contrast against your warm skin, "it's never been proven to be accurate, of course." his hand was just under your crotch, drawing infinity-symbols on your skin, a pondering look on his face as he cocked his head to the side, a small smirk appearing on his face, "but it never hurts to be thorough, right?"

doctor cameron had you folded over on the examination table, holding your legs at your sides, his warm lips placing sloppy, hot kisses on your neck as his cock slid out of you before slamming against your cervix, the man letting out a soft breathy laugh at every little gasp or moan that managed to escape your lips.

"how many times do i have to tell you, sweetie?" he mumbled against your skin, rafe's words intensified by the pace of his hips snapping against yours increasing, a loud yelp leaving you, "you don't need to try and keep quiet. no one's gonna hear us." he breathed out.

the pad of his thumb found your your clit, starting to draw small circles on it as the room was filled with your unsteady breathing combined with the lewd squelch of your pussy every time his hips met yours, "come on, let me hear all those pretty little noises... it's not like this is the first time we've fooled around here."

rafe tried pulling away from your neck, but you tugged him closer by his hair, holding him there as tightly as possible "god, rafe..." you moaned out, the doctor letting out a pleased hum against your skin.

"come on, sweetie... tell me how much you want me to put a baby in you, yeah?"

"so badly..." your back arched off the examination table while rafe's long fingers slid up to your breast, teasing it with small kneads and pinches before his left hand found your hand, your fingers intertwining with his, your matching wedding bands meeting.

"i love you so much... i can't wait for you to be all pretty and pregnant." he smiled against your skin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

MEANWHILE….

"i wonder what's taking dr. cameron so long..." the receptionist wondered aloud with a frown on her pouty lips, turning to look at the clock on the wall as she tapped her pink fingernails against the desk, "i mean, it's almost lunchtime."

the other receptionist let out a snort, interrupting the movement of the file against her long nail, turning to look at the other girl with raised brows, chewing gum. "what, you don't know?"

"know what?"

"oh, this is good." the receptionist laughed, throwing her head back with laughter in her office chair. "you don't know who she is."

"what?" the other girl asked, huffing in annoyance as she grabbed a cheeto out of the bag sitting in front of them.

"that client is mrs. cameron."

"as in-"

"yup, that was doctor cameron's wife." she let out a loud snort of a laugh as she shook her head, grabbing a cheeto before going back to filing her nails. "guess she gets special treatment."

[mystellenia]

christmas mirror sex with vi ୨ৎ

summary: you look a little too good in your christmas pajamas, and vi simply can't control herself.

content: answer to this req!! dom!vi, sub!r, desperate!vi, strap (r!rec), makeout and through-the-chonies rubbing just for a little bit, dirty talk i guueeesssss, rough!vi, mean!vi, vi's thrusts are like a fucking JACKHAMMER like paralyzingly fast (is paralyzingly a word (did i just make that up (call me an entrepreneur))).

notes: this is pretty filthy guys. merry christmas my kittens eat well. OOH OOH ALSO GUYS. yk when cait and vi fucked and cait was like "while you were gone... i- i saw someone..." and vi is like "i dont fucking care."? yeah thats what the line later on thats in red is giving. muehehehehehhehe. and i double posted too i’m such an active queen. read soft christmas morning with vi thru the link ;)

(wc 1.2k)

your head slammed against the plush of the mattress as vi roughly dropped you on the bed. 

just twenty minutes prior, you were just standing in the kitchen brewing two cups of tea, one for yourself and one for her. the two of you were in your own version of matching christmas pajamas: the pants of the set were sitting low on vi’s hips, her toned v-line visible with a taunting red happy trail peeking out from under a plain wifebeater. the long-sleeved, buttoned shirt of the set loosely draped across your body, the top few buttons undone and showing your upper chest, and the lower hem just barely covering the fat of your ass, clad in a pair of white, cheeky underwear covered in little red and pink hearts. 

vi was splayed across the couch with her phone dangling in her hand, her eyes unabashedly trained on your ass while you moved in the kitchen. just looking at your bare legs in the warm light of the kitchen was enough to get her going, and once you turned around with a mug of tea in each hand and approached her, nipples erect and poking through the fabric of your pajama shirt, she knew the two of you were going end up in the bedroom in the next fifteen minutes. 

“here, baby,” you said, carefully setting her mug of jasmine tea on the side table next to the couch. “let it cool a bit—it's really hot.” 

“is it, now?” vi mockingly mumbled, not caring how obvious her intentions were, her gaze lowered to your thighs. “c’mere,” she says, hooking one hand around your waist and the other under your ass cheek to pull you onto her lap. 

“jesus, i have piping hot tea in my hand, violet.” you rush to carefully place your mug of tea next to where you set hers on the wood side table. your voice wavers a bit when vi’s lips suction to your neck, suckling on the skin and leaving wet patches as her mouth moves. 

her kisses trail up the side of your neck to your jaw, disconnecting right when she gets to the corner of your mouth. your breath has already begun shuddering from her sudden teasing, and you pant into her parted lips. 

“but, i just made... but the tea,” you squeak out, trying to stop her from devouring you, because you know once she starts, you won’t be able to say anything but yes and please. 

her head tilts to the side, lips brushing over yours. with a scoff, she says, “i could not care any fucking less about the tea,” and then pulls you by the back of your neck to close the small gap between you, immediately pulling moans from your chest.

a particularly sharp thrust from vi snaps you back to the present. you lay on your back on the edge of the bed, your head dangling off and facing a full-length mirror in front of you.  

through your upside-down view, you watch her lean figure snap forward at a diabolical pace through the mirror. her wifebeater was discarded, her bared chest making your clit throb as she pistoned into you with a long, red strap. with every jolt of her hips, her small breasts bounced and hypnotized you in the mirror’s reflection. 

if your vision wasn't getting blurry from the stimulation and the blood rushing to your head from your inverted position, you’d try telling her how salivating she looked. you give up the thought of even trying because the idea of forming words dissolves just as quickly as it came about, pleas and begs the only coherent words your brain can make. 

vi had the stamina of a seasoned race horse, so while you had already cum twice, she was steadily building up to her first orgasm and had barely broken a sweat. out on the couch, she had unbuttoned all of your shirt’s buttons except for two at the bottom to expose your boobs, her mouth latching onto them immediately while her fingers rubbed your swollen clit. your shirt was still unbuttoned, and your free boobs bounced with every one of vi’s devilish thrusts. 

“jesus christ- can't believe i hadn’t fucked you like this yet,” she ekes out. “i love this pussy so damn.. so damn much...” her voice trails off with a long grunt. 

that familiar, hot swirling begins in your body, your legs softly twitching on either side of vi’s hips.  

“vi, please- please don’t stop,” you whisper, unable to remember how to speak at a louder volume. 

“oh, what was that?” she evilly taunts. “did you say something? i’m gonna need you to speak up, mama.” 

you whine in frustration. in between cries, you mumble, “please, don’t stop, please. keep going, keep going, don’t move.” tears fall from your eyes and up your face from gravity being flipped, salted drops disappearing into your hairline and down your hair that hung to the floor. 

your strained begging just eggs her on more, her thrusts somehow picking up speed even more and further bruising your already abused cervix.  

you wonder how at such a relentless pace, she has remained nearly silent, but before the thought can develop, you’re cumming hard around her cock, your mouth open in a silent scream. vi grins at your helplessness and continues fucking you through it, only slowing down once you begin nonsensically babbling. your dumbification pushes her to her climax, too, and she fucks the both of you through your orgasms. 

after a minute or so, once the two of you have come down from your highs, she grabs a fistful of your hair at the crown of your head to lift your ragdoll-like head up to face her. 

“you think you got another one for me in that hollow skull?” she teases, slightly shaking your head side-to-side by her grip on your hair. her smile is evident in her eyes, knowing you couldn’t give her another one even if you wanted to. 

all you can do is pant words out incoherently and shake your head, your eyes nearly crossed from the sheer strength of your orgasm.  

pulling your body fully onto the bed by your thighs, she sets your head onto a pillow, pulling out and removing the strap from her hips to get a warm washcloth to clean up the mess you’ve made in between your legs.  

she walks around the bed to where your head rests on a pillow and smooths the hair stuck to your forehead with sweat out of your face.  

“you did good for me, baby, i’m proud of you. i know i was rough.” leaning down, she drops a kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling at how you still haven’t seemed to get a grasp on your surroundings. “merry christmas, mama.” 

merry quismos chat. make sure to wish all your favorite skibids a merry gyattmas (i’m gonna throw up in my mouth i’m cringing)

[militaryapple]

FREAK LIKE ME ♡

synopsis. caleb comes home to find you sleep, in his room, with his clothes on. and he decides that he just couldn't take it anymore.

cw. fem!reader, somnophilia, masturbation, he praises you a lot, usage of "pretty" a fuck ton, depictions of him spitting on you, idk girl he freaky like.

add ons. why can't i take him to pound town man fml :( I also proofread this time who's proud

wc. 1.2k

12:00. caleb knew it was a bad idea to go out with old friends, "to re-connect" or whatever cheesy thing you said to convince him to go out. his night would've been 20 times better if you had just went with him. yet you were so persistent and it was impolite to cancel plans the day of. he knew he should've just stayed home with you all together, he really needs to stop playing into things he cant get out of.

caleb returned home, the door turning as he opened it. the faint smell of apple cinnamon filled the room. were you doing something before he left? he walked around the living room, and then kitchen. that's when he noticed the half eaten slice of pie you had supposedly left there for him. it only made him grin.

the silence dawned on him, making his way to his room. opening the door slightly and peeking in, you were asleep. he crept in, settling down next to your sleeping body. listening to the rhythmic sounds of your breathing while you were away in the land of dreams. caleb pulled the cover, as he was about to tuck you in he noticed a white fabric which you clutched so dearly on to.

his heart fluttered and his body felt like it was on fire. it was his shirt. how long have you been sleeping with his shirt? did you miss him? is that why you were in his room? to have his scent around you? questions flooded his mind that only you would know the answer to. yet you would never say them out loud.

caleb's suspicions only rose as he peeked at your clothes. there was no way you had his clothes on right? he tugged on the cover that he would once tuck you in, to pull away. he was cautious, not to disturb your sleep. god did he feel like a pervert. he couldn't help himself though, he just wanted to see if he was correct. once his suspicions were confirmed he would go into the bathroom and wash away whatever feelings were going through him.

once the cover was pulled away enough, caleb scanned your clothes, and indeed they were his. it could only make him whine. his hands grazing your neck to push away your hair, then moving downwards.

oh god. you weren't wearing a bra. caleb tensed, his once soft cock stiffening to the thought of you, shirtless, going through his clothes to find a shirt comfortable for you. his hands moved lower, grazing past the end as the shirt as he lifted it up. you had no pants on. caleb could only groan. you were trying to tease him right? well it was working.

caleb rubbed your thigh, trying not to wake you but stirring you around. he knew he couldn't fuck you in your sleep, as much as he wanted to there was no way he would. he wouldn't live with himself if you woke up. but the way you were spread out for him, he needed to blow off steam somehow. so he did the best next thing.

he unbuckled his belt, pulling down the fabric which separated his groin and his hand. caleb walked closer to you, your face in perfect view as you shuffled enough for his shirt to peel up. this was pathetic. he was pathetic, but he was so hard, and you were so pretty.

he squeezed his cock letting out a small moan before he slowly pumped himself to your sleeping face. you were so pretty, so fucking pretty for him. he wanted to wake you up and bite you. hear you beg for his dick, beg for him to make you stupid. you'd probably like that. he narrowed in on your panties. those were his favorite pair of yours, from the occasional sniffing and using that specific pair to jerk himself off. ohhh fuck, have you ever done that? think of him?

the thought only made him messy. maybe you have. touching yourself in his bed, making a fucking mess for him. the thought of you holding his cover to your face as you could only whine in pleasure, searching for his scent. he could give you what you wanted if you asked, he could make you feel good. he could go deeper than your fingers could ever go. he's seen the way you've looked at his hands, the way you can remember on how rough he can be with you.

caleb tried his hardest to be quiet, he truly did, but he couldn't help it. the way your chest heaved up and down when breathing, how you say random things while you slept, your little moans. it was more than enough to make him cum on the spot.

he wondered what you'd look like nasty. how nasty you could get for him. how well you'd take it if he spit in your mouth. on your face. he's eager. what if you woke up? what would you do? maybe you would pump him, milk all the cum out of him. "f— fuck, pips." he groaned. he kneeled down to get a better look at you. pretty girl. you were practically sculpted for his eyes. you were divine, a goddess to him.

he's memorized everything about you. every curve, every glance. his frame and yours together. how every time you two are together on the train, he cant help but press up against you. how you'd look back at him in question. "to keep away the pervs, pips." was what he would always tell you. while yes, it was, but the feeling of you rubbing against him was pure bliss. it's not like you noticed anyways.

caleb moved erratically. his hips slamming into his hands while his grip only tightened around his cock. fuck fuck fuck. he wanted to feel you. he wanted to use your cunt and break your mind. he wanted to hear you plead for sweet release while he holds you and empties himself in you. he needed you, wanted you, fuck he was whining and was almost on the verge of tears. this was pure ecstasy. he needed to do this more often.

"fuck baby 'm gonna cum— ah, please." he whined, watching you stir around in your sleep. the look of your ass peeking out while you so innocently tugged on his shirt you held. he couldn't wait for the day he could ruin you, make you break into a million beautiful pieces. his attention grazed back to his painful dick. he was gonna cum. he looked around, there was nothing to wrap up his tip with. fuck it.

caleb pumped his cock a few last times before releasing. his grunts and groans dragging out as he watched the mess he made on you. he let out a satisfied hum, before fixing the cover. he moved to the other side of the bed, putting on some more comfortable clothes and lying down next to you. you hummed in satisfaction moving closer to the body heat he radiated.

he would help you clean up in the morning. as for the story he would tell you? he'd figure that out later.

[wcnderlnds]

bad idea right? | choi su-bong (thanos)

・❥・ summary: what happens in the squid game bathrooms, stays in the squid game bathrooms ・❥・word count: 1.2k ・❥・warnings: 18+. smut. oral (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex. female reader. swearing. ・❥・ authors note: i haven't wrote smut in months so you'll have to forgive me if this is awful <3

It had started off like any normal day in the Squid Games. You’d woke up, got traumatised by the day’s game, cast your vote and then ate the meander meal they’d gave you – sandwich and a drink. Nothing out of the ordinary except today had been the day you had officially met Thanos. You had seen him around – his purple hair was hard to miss – but you’d never really spoke to him. In fact, most of the time, you kept to yourself but this game had meant that you had to pair up with people. There had been one moment where you were struggling to find a group when suddenly a flash of purple hair grabbed you by the wrist and dragged you into a room with him and a few other boys. From that moment on, he had stuck by your side during the game even kicking out one of his closer friends. Why he had latched on to you, you had no idea but you couldn’t have been more thankful. If it wasn’t for him, you’d surely have been eliminated by now.

The moment you’d got back to the main holding area, he pulled you into a giant hug. His arms engulfed your body, pressing you flush against him as he rambled about how glad he was that you were safe and how he wanted to be with you and not his friend.

Somehow that had led to where you were now — locked in a bathroom stall with your back pressed against the cool wall, the pants of your sweatsuit down your legs. You weren’t exactly sure how you’d even got into this predicament. Maybe it was the feel of Thanos’ body pressing against yours, maybe it was the attention from the most handsome guy in this place — you had no idea. All you knew was that Thanos was on his knees, his mouth between your thighs devouring you like a man possessed.

His tongue flattened, licking a long stripe up your folds. Your fingers tangled in his purple locks, tugging on them as his tongue swirled around your clit, flicking the sensitive bud. The moans falling from your lips were breathy as you tried to keep quiet. The last thing you needed was to get caught. Having sex in the bathroom was surely grounds for elimination. 

“You’re fuckin’ dripping, baby,” Thanos mumbled against you as he lapped up your juices. “You taste so good, Senorita. Could do this all day.”

His tongue alternated between teasing your clit and licking along your folds before he dove the muscle into your tight hole. A gasp emanated from your lips, your fingers tugging on his hair even tighter as he fucked you with his tongue. 

“Fuck, Thanos,” you panted. “Keep doing that and I’m gonna come.”

Suddenly, he pulled away from you, wiping your juices from his lips with the back of his hand. Damn, could this man get any hotter? He rose to his feet, hand sliding to the back of your neck as he crashed his lips against yours. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he shoved his into your mouth, tangling with yours. Moaning into the kiss, Thanos used his free hand to pull his own sweatpants down just enough to free his aching cock.

“Jump,” he mumbled against your lips. Instantly, you obliged. His hands caught you as you wrapped your legs around his waist. His length brushed against your folds causing a shudder to run through your body. Was it just this place? Because you had never wanted someone so badly before in your life. Never had you felt so desperate. The lingering fear of death was probably a factor – making you crave as much intimacy as humanly possible. “I’m gonna fuck you so good you’ll forget all about these games, senorita.”

Before you could even reply, he nudged the head of his cock at your entrance, pushing into you with one hard thrust. His hand flew up to cover your mouth, hiding the loud moan you’d let out at the feeling of him bottomed out inside you. He drew his hips back until he was almost all the way out then thrust back in, hard. He set a fast past, withdrawing his hand from your mouth so he could grab at your hips. His fingers dug into your flesh hard enough he was sure to leave bruises but you didn’t care. The feeling of him pistoning in and out of you, the draw of his cock along your walls was enough for you to feel like you were in heaven. Nothing else really mattered in that moment.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so tight. Taking me like a champ,” he groaned, his eyes glancing down to watch his dick move in and out of you, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing through the bathroom stall. His hands slid down your back to grab your ass, pulling your body into him as he fucked into you to take him deeper. 

“Oh, right there, right there,” you whimpered as he hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars. Thanos smirked, covering your whimpers with his mouth as he picked up his pace. He made sure to angle his hips so he hit that sweet spot over and over again to the point you were a whimpering, moaning mess babbling nonsense about how good he felt inside you.

Your hands clawed at his back, head thrown back against the wall as he pounded into you with animalistic speed. He was like a man possessed, fucking you with an inch of your life to bring you both to ecstasy. One of his hands reached up into your hair, yanking your head back roughly. “Come for me, Senorita. Show me who’s making you feel this fucking good.” 

He could feel your walls clamping down around him, bringing his own climax closer. He redoubled his efforts, covering your mouth once again sensing how close you were. His body felt like it was on fire as he thrust his hips relentlessly against yours. His forehead rested against yours as his grunts came more frequently, trying his best to keep quiet himself. Then, he felt it, his balls tightening as he toyed on the edge of ecstasy. 

“Oh fuck,” you cried out, though it was a mumbled against his hand. Your body shook as your orgasm crashed over you, hips bucking wildly against his. The feeling of you coming undone around his cock finally pushed him over the edge.

“Shit, I’m coming. Fuck,” he groaned, burying his head in your neck, his teeth biting down on your skin as he thrust into you one last time, hips stilling as he painted your insides with his release. After a few minutes, he finally caught his breath back, pulling out of you with a hiss. He tucked his softening length back into his pants, leaning back against the wall on the other side of the stall. His eyes watched you as you pulled your own clothes back on. Both of you knew this had to stay between you, if anyone found out they’d surely use it to get you eliminated from the games.

Your fingers ran through your hair trying to at least make yourself look presentable before you went back into the pits of hell. “Well…”

He held his hand up. “No worries, gorgeous. Maybe if you’re lucky, we can have a repeat of this after the next game.” He unlocked the door, his arm outstretched to let you out first. “That’s if you make it this time.”

[hoe4hotchner]

the team meeting aaron's lawyer!wife who's personality is similar to his + she's the best in her field

Langston & Bell | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Lawyer wife!reader | WC: 1.2k | CW: Not really anything except for a little law jargon and mentions of a case the BAU is working on.

A/N: My brain hurts from looking up law terminology, and I'm not even sure if I used all the words correctly

The glass doors of Langston & Bell opened as Hotch led the rest of his team inside. The air felt heavy—as they entered—from the scent of freshly brewed coffee and a faint lemony aroma.

The firm itself was one of the most prestigious ones in all of Virginia, and its reputation suited it. Everything about the space was designed to impress—shining marble floors in the lobby, towering bookshelves filled with thick leather-bound volumes of law books and journals, and abstract art that screamed of a space aimed to do business with rich and pretentious people.

Emily glanced around, clearly trying to process how they’d ended up here. “Langston & Bell?” she muttered under her breath. “Isn’t this place out of our league?”

“They’re not dealing with criminal justice,” Spencer pointed out. “They specialize in corporate litigation and high-profile estate law. The firm is known for taking on cases that require absolute discretion.” Emily tried her best not to roll her eyes at Spencer's outburst of knowledge but failed.

Hotch didn’t respond, he kept his pace steady as he approached the front desk. His usual stone-faced demeanor was on full display, his features—although set not completely in a frown—were unreadable. He seemed unbothered by the hushed stares they received from the staff as they had entered with their badges held out in front of them.

The receptionist, a young woman with a straight posture and a sharp smile, greeted them. “Good afternoon. How may I assist you?”

Hotch stepped forward, his voice even. “We’re with the FBI. We’re looking for the attorney who handled the probate case for Samuel Larkin.”

The receptionist’s fingers danced quickly over her keyboard, her expression unchanged. “That would be Attorney Hotchner.”

Dead silence.

Emily blinked. “I’m sorry, did you say Hotchner?”

“Yes,” the receptionist replied, unfazed, almost on the brink of annoyance. “Would you like me to see if she’s available?”

“She,” Morgan echoed, his brows furrowing a little as his gaze flipped from the receptionist to Hotch.

Before anyone could recover from their shock, the sound of sharp heal clicks echoed through the lobby.

“Aaron,” came a clear voice from behind. “If this is your idea of surprising me, I’ll admit it’s more creative than flowers. But I have a deposition in thirty minutes.”

The team turned as one, their collective gazes landing on the woman who had just entered the room. You were dressed in a tailored navy suit that emphasized your poised demeanor. Your expression was both curious and faintly amused as your eyes locked on Hotch.

“Counselor,” he greeted smoothly, his tone carrying a subtle warmth that the team rarely heard.

“Counselor?” Rossi asked, a slow grin forming as his gaze flicked between you and Hotch.

Your lips quirked up in a small smile as you approached, your heels clicking against the marble with each step. “I assume this is your team?”

“It is,” Hotch confirmed.

You turned your attention to the group, giving them a brief once-over with an expression that wasn’t unkind but clearly measured. “Well, where are my manners? I’m Y/N Hotchner, senior litigation partner here at Langston & Bell. And yes, I can see the wheels turning in all your heads.”

Morgan crossed his arms, already grinning. “Oh, I’ve got a lot of questions right now.”

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Feel free to ask them, Agent Morgan. I’ve been cross-examined by some of the sharpest minds in the country—I’m sure I can handle you.”

JJ stepped forward, clearly trying to keep her surprise in check. “Wait, you’re married?”

You tilted your head toward Hotch, your expression softening just a fraction. “You didn’t tell them?”

“It never came up,” Hotch replied with a shrug, though the faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes didn’t escape you.

You shook your head, exhaling a soft laugh. “Aaron’s great at compartmentalizing, isn’t he? Well, to officially answer your question—yes, I’m his wife. And judging by your expressions, this is news to you.”

“Big news,” Emily muttered, still processing.

Hotch cleared his throat, subtly redirecting the conversation. “We need access to the probate records for Samuel Larkin. Anything that might help us build our case.”

Your demeanor shifted instantly, professionalism overtaking the playful edge. “Aaron, you know I can’t just hand over client information without a court order.”

“We’re only asking for publicly available records,” he clarified.

You studied him for a moment, a silent exchange passing between you. Then you turned to your assistant, who stood nearby. “Jane, pull the Larkin docket and bring me all publicly filed documents. Annotate them if you have time, and leave them on my desk before your shift ends.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jane replied, already moving toward the elevator.

“You always find a way around the rules,” Hotch said, his voice was low but carrying a note of fondness.

“And you love that about me,” you shot back with a wink, your eyes glinting with mischief.

Morgan leaned closer to Emily, his voice just loud enough for her to hear. “I don’t know what’s more surprising—the fact that he’s married, the fact that she's a lawyer, or the fact that she might be scarier than him.”

Although Jane hadn't gone through the records yet, she sent you a digital copy as soon as she had found them. You walked the team through them with ease. Every legal term you used was calculated, giving away as little about your client as you could, while still helping your husband and his team. You made sure to translate every dense legal jargon into actionable insights every time you saw one of their faces pull an expression.

“Here,” you said, pointing to a transaction on the financial statement. “These wire transfers are from an offshore account linked to Larkin. It’s not evidence of criminal activity, but it raises enough red flags to warrant further investigation.” If Larkin found out you had helped the feds, you could be in big trouble, you thought as you revealed the account.

Spencer leaned in, his eyes lighting up with understanding. “If we trace the accounts, we might uncover a connection to our unsub.”

“Precisely,” you replied, offering him a small nod of approval.

By the time the team wrapped up, they had everything they needed to move forward. As they gathered their materials, you leaned against the edge of the table, folding your arms as you looked at Hotch.

“Dinner at seven?” you asked, your voice softer, the edge of professionalism giving way to something more personal.

“Seven,” he confirmed, his tone lighter than usual.

You smiled, leaning in just enough to lower your voice. “Try not to scare anyone off before then, okay?”

“No promises,” he replied, his lips twitching upward in the faintest of smiles.

As the team exited the building, Morgan shook his head in disbelief. “She is definitely scarier than Hotch”

Emily grinned. “I think I like her better.”

“I like her too,” Rossi added with a chuckle.

Hotch walked ahead, the faint smile still playing on his lips, but he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. The team had seen enough to know he’d married his perfect match—an equal who could still challenge him enough to keep him on his toes.

[hxney-lemcn]

Kiss me Silly — Mr. Crawling, Gap, Silvair, Chopped, Hugeface, and Scarletella x gn! reader

summery: kisses with some of the Homicipher boys.

tw: slight unrequited feelings (I mean it's in the game).

wc: 1.2k (~200 per character)

Master List

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Crawling

❥Your first kiss is confusing to say the least. Mr. Crawling doesn’t know what your talking about and you try your best to explain what a kiss is and why you do it. “We touch lip” “Only someone you many like”. He doesn’t fully understand it, but you seem to like pressing your lips together, and he honestly finds himself liking it too. Any excuse to touch you is worth it in his eyes, and he finds himself wanting to do it again and again.

❥Thankfully, Mr. Crawling is a fast learner, and kisses go from sloppy to coherent quickly. Tugging at your clothes and chirping cutely in such a way you can’t say no. Kiss his lips, his forehead, cheeks, nose, he doesn’t care, he just wants your affection and you’ve open him to a whole new world.

❥Will give you kisses in return. In fact, it’s become a fifty fifty whether you get a kiss or head pats in comfort. When I say kiss I mean forehead kisses, he just finds it so comforting. If you’re really lucky he’ll pat your head and give you a kiss.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Gap

❥No. Sorry, but Mr. Gap isn’t a fan of any kind of affection. He barely understands the concept of liking someone! Though…you are strange. He likes messing with you, grinning devilishly every time he asks for your heart. He hasn’t had this kind of entertainment for a long time. Mr. Gap can’t deny he’s curious about those magazines you read. Why do humans do such strange things with each other?

❥After enough time, his curiosity beats his apprehension, agreeing to allow you to show ONE sign of affection. Just one though, and not for long. Tries his hardest to not back away when your face inches closer, watching you wearily as you press your lips to his. It’s weird, and uncomfortable, and his cold skin feels oddly warm. Disappears the second you pull away. 

❥Safe to say that kisses are far and few in between. Mr. Gap has a weird relationship with the sign of affection (or any). He feels awkward and doesn’t like how strange (vulnerable) it makes him feel, but on the other hand he has you try again, and he’s not sure why. Doesn’t want to dissect why (it’s cus you only do it with him and makes him feel special).

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Silvair

❥Hahaha. He’s confused. He doesn’t understand your strange human emotions nor your fondness. You’re his test subject, and he takes some time to ponder over your offer. His scientist mindset takes over, thinks of the whole situation like a test. Sorry :/

❥Doesn’t move when you kiss him. To be fair he doesn’t know what a kiss entails, lets you take the lead. He’s confused when you pull away with a frown, your nerves clear.,,interesting. Notes the way you act in a file in his mind to go through later, your mannerisms are just the most intriguing. You have to teach him how to kiss first, he’s willing to go along with your whims as long as you don’t expect too much from the interaction.

❥Strangly, over time he finds himself expecting your affections. Cheek kisses, lip kisses, its an odd slice of domecity. He comes back from his research and you’ll greet him with a small kiss. If you forget he gets a strange hollow feeling…very strange. Will watch you until you realize he’s waiting for a greeting kiss, that nasty feeling leaving the second your warm lips land on his own. How very strange…

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Chopped

❥Looks at you weirdly. Why would you want to touch your lips to his? He doesn’t get it. Says no at first, but over time his curiosity gets the best of him. Demands that you pick him up and touch your lips together. Wants to know why you even asked. Gets a strange fluttery feeling (even though he doesn’t have a body) and finds the action oddly enticing. Demands you do it again the second you pull away, a grin stretching from ear to ear. 

❥You can only kiss him on his terms, but more often than not he’s demanding you for one. Always gets a giant dopy grin afterwards, basking in your warmth. He’s on top of the world when you shower him with affection. Leave kisses all over his face. Do it. Mr. Chopped will become a giggly mess.

❥Get’s a bit insecure that he can’t kiss you without help. He wishes he could just kiss you when he wanted instead of asking you to pick him up. But those thoughts are quickly squashed when you brighten up at seeing him, placing a quick kiss to his cheek. If he’s sleeping on the otherhand…don’t do it, no matter how cute he looks, he hate surprises, even if it’s just you.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Hugeface

❥Uhm…I’m sorry to say but I’m not sure this is possible. Well, it could be if you tried hard enough. Mr. Hugeface has no idea what you’re yapping on about, you have to walk him through the steps (like bringing you close enough to his face). He’s giggling to himself as he strains to see you leaning your little head closer to his bigger one. 

❥Placing your lips to his is a difficult task when he finds himself grinning so widely at how cute you are. Can’t get enough of your kisses. Tries to kiss you back…at least he doesn’t accidentally eat you? Unfortunately, this sign of affection is a one way street, but hey! Mr. Hugeface can’t say no when you want to kiss him, it feels like little tickles.

❥Instead, Mr. Hugeface will pat your head with a finger (🙏 he tries his hardest to not squish you). Always coos at you, calling you cute over and over. Can you blame him? He’s so happy that a small little human is showing him affection! Sometimes he just wants to squish you! But he won’t…I swear, cus then he won’t be able to get any more kisses :( 

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Mr. Scarletella

❥Oh boy. This guy… Won’t hesitate to do what you ask. Sure, he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about exactly or why you’d want to do such a thing, but who was he to question you? Leans down and watches you expectantly as your face inches closer, static thrumming inside his ears from excitement. Mr. Scarletella can’t deny how exciting it is to be so close to you.

❥Completely hooked the second your lips meet, his creepy grin spreading so wide it nearly breaks your kiss. I hope you’re happy, you now have a demon already at your beck and call ready to end the world if you promise him a kiss…well I guess he’d do that anyways if it made you happy. Notices that if he does things you like you kiss him more. Becomes a Pavlov’s dog situation. 

❥As boundary breaking and homicidal as Mr. Scarletella was, he won’t kiss you first. It would be wrong, you call the shots, not him, so don’t expect him to start anything. Watches you like a demonic puppy dog when he wants a kiss (all the time). Just…be a bit careful with this newfound power, Mr. Scarletella won’t take too kindly if you deny him what he wants (just a bit of a red flag…just a bit…).

[mrsbarnesblog]

the broken sink

summary: you walk in on your boyfriend fixing the sink and looking absolutely delicious, so you cannot resist him

word count: 1.2k

warnings: porn without plot, unprotected p in v, cowgirl position, tits sucking

a/n: inspired by the tiktok i saw not so long ago😋

When you walked into your kitchen after going out for some groceries, the last thing you expected to see was Rafe lying on his back halfway under the sink. Without a damn shirt on. 

His grey sweatpants were low on his hips, showing a glimpse of his underwear, abs on full display for you, with a thin layer of sweat glistening under the sunlight from the window nearby. 

You swallowed harshly as you put the bag on the counter and looked back at your boyfriend, who was still unaware of your presence. The way Rafe’s muscles were flexing with every move under the sink and the way his toned and big arms moved back and forth with a wrench in them made your mouth water and left your head completely empty. 

“What are you doing in there?” You finally asked. 

His head peeked from under the counter, your favorite sheepish grin stretched across his face at your voice. “Hey, baby. Just though— you son of a bitch.” He cursed, and you heard a crunching noise of metal. “Just thought I would fix this thing you’ve been telling me about. I’m almost done.” 

Rafe sent you another smirk, and you were done for. You didn’t even think, your mind being completely blank, as you went closer and dropped to your knees near him. You swung your leg over, straddling his hips, hands flat on the lower part of his stomach, thumbs trailing the line just under the band of his boxers.

“What the—“ His deep voice was followed by a loud thud of his head against the sink as he moved, surprised by your actions. “Ah, shit… Babe, the hell are you doing? Like right now?” With one hand still holding a wrench and the other one instinctively gripping your thigh, Rafe’s eyes roamed over you with amusement and curiosity. 

You bit your lip, not even paying attention to his words, instead slightly lifting yourself and tugging at his sweatpants and boxers. The need and desire in you was excruciating, and you doubted that you ever experienced it in that way, but seeing Rafe like that—spread out on the floor, sweaty, half naked, looking like a fucking glazed donut—made you go feral. 

“I’m so wet, Ray.” You mumbled, barely able to think straight. 

“You’re wet because…?” He grinned, throwing a wrench near his head, and paying his full attention to you. He was slightly shocked, yes, but this is Rafe, and no matter what, he will never miss an opportunity to do something dirty and inappropriate with you. This man was obsessed, and when you showed initiative, he could get turned on in a second. 

Your hands finally managed to pull the pants down, just enough for you to pull out his quickly hardening cock. Instantly wrapping your hand around the base, you spit on the tip, working your hand up and down his length to make it nice and ready. Rafe’s hips buckled, a hiss leaving his lips at the skilled movements of your hand. “Holy fucking shit.”

“I’m wet because you look so fucking hot like that.” You moaned, your free hand desperately tugging at your dress, trying to pull it up. A frustrated huff left your lips when it kept falling down, preventing you from reaching your underwear and finally releasing the ache between your legs. 

Rafe’s head lifted off the floor, pupils blown wide at the sight of you on top of him, desperate as never before, angry at not being able to have him the way you wanted to. Your hand kept working with his cock, as he was already painfully hard. An amused laugh left his lips when your brows furrowed, a pout evident on your lips. “Lemme help you, baby.” 

He pulled the dress up, fisting the thin material in his hand, while you finally pushed your underwear aside. There was no teasing, no preparing yourself for his cock, or even giving him a chance to realize what you were doing with how fast you moved. You just sank on him in one smooth motion, throwing your head back and moaning at the stretch. 

Rafe’s fingers dug into your thighs, his mouth hanging open with surprise and pleasure, looking up at you with lust and need. “Fuck, baby.” He breathed, his voice rough and raspy. “You didn’t even give me a damn second to— shit!”

You shut him up mid-sentence, dragging yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, making his hand fall back on the floor with a thud. 

“Couldn’t wait.” You whispered, planting your hands on his firm chest, feeling every muscle shifting under your palms. “I’ve been thinking about you since morning, and then— then you were here looking so sexy…” You trailed off, eyes rolling back with a high moan slipping past your lips. 

“You’re crazy, baby, fucking crazy.” 

You leaned down, palms flat on his chest, lips barely ghosting his jawline as you dragged your hips slowly in circles. “You’re making me crazy.” You whispered, grinding down harder, pulling a ragged moan from deep in his chest.

Rafe’s hands trailed up your thighs, gripping your ass harder, pushing you down on him. You lifted yourself almost completely, then dropped back harder. Your pace quickened when you sat straight again, moving even though your legs started to feel tingly. 

Rafe couldn’t wait any longer. His fingers dug harder into your hips, bruising, as he started pushing up into you, making the filthiest and wettest noises fill the small and cozy kitchen. Your eyes rolled back, while his zeroed in on your nipples, picking through the thin fabric of your dress. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so hot right now.” He grumbled, propping himself on one elbow, his face now closer to your breasts, and catching the swell on your tit with his mouth. Rafe’s moan mixed with your gasp when he sucked on you through the fabric, dragging his teeth around the bud hard enough to make you cry. Your fingers threaded into his sweaty hair, tugging just a little, and Rafe growled low in his throat. 

You felt the heat in you building faster. The way Rafe filled you so perfectly, his cock kissing your cervix with every hard thrust, the way his hands and mouth were so desperate for you—it all made you spiral. “Need you to come, Ray…” He cupped the back of your neck, stopping his assault on your tits, bringing your mouth to his, and then falling back on the floor with you lying on his chest. 

“Fucking will, baby. You’re gonna cum on my cock too, hm?” Rafe asked, barely even stopping the kiss, before pushing his tongue back in your mouth—sloppy and borderline nasty. He started fucking into you again, feeling the way your pussy barely was letting him go. His cock throbbed inside, and with a few more thrusts, just when you couldn't hold back your orgasm anymore, you felt ropes after ropes of hot liquid painting your insides. 

You collapsed against him, both of you slick with sweat and panting, the only sounds in the kitchen your breathing and the distant hum of the fridge.

"Next time," he said, voice rough against your ear, "I'm not fixin' shit unless you're supervising like this."

You laughed, still too blissed out to even lift your head. "Deal."

He grinned, his hand smoothing up and down your back, lazy and possessive. 

The sink was still broken, tools were lying all around you, and your grocery bags were completely forgotten on the counter, but in that moment neither of you cared. 

[leclerc-hs]

bunny! - ln4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader summary: in which lando always calls you bunny OR your favorite place to be is riding lando's cock warnings: smut, riding, dirty talk, language, pet name!, NOT PROOFREAD (I hate re-reading stuff I write if you couldn't tell hahahah) word count: 1.2k ish author's note: this idea came to mind LAST NIGHT and i just had to write it since i'm off of work today. talk about me feeding y'all LOL xoxo still working on oscar's version of aphrodisiac chocolates!!! I literally wrote this in like an hour so it’s shortttt. xoxo ily ◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤◢◤

Lando calls you Bunny like it’s your actual name.

Don’t forget your lanyard later, Bunny

Hey Bunny, can you hand me that?

Y’look great, Bun

It was constant. In the paddock. During interviews. Even the fans notice it. Some thought it was a childhood thing. Others assumed it was just something that stuck.

And the rest of the grid? Of course they asked. 

And every time, you and Lando offered a different answer.

She had these ridiculous bunny ears the first time I met here…never wanted to take them off.

Her nose used to do this little twitch whenever she was annoyed…I swear

She loves carrots

And tonight was no different. 

You’re curled into the booth beside Lando, wine glass in hand, one leg draped over his under the table. He was warm, hand on your thigh. Thumb brushing soft, lazy circles.

And then it came up again.

“Alright…someone has to ask again,” Pierre points his fork toward Lando. “Bunny. What’s it actually from?”

Groans went around the table. Everyone chattering how he’ll never tell you. Just let them have their secrets.

And Oscar grins. “No, I wanna hear this one.” He leans forward. “What’s the excuse tonight?”

Lando doesn’t miss a beat. Fingers gripping your leg. A grin pulled onto his mouth.

“Showed up to my flat in bunny ears once. Wouldn’t take them off.”

You scoff beside him. “It was Halloween.”

“She wore them to sleep.”

And laughter erupts around the table.

And his hand tightens on your thigh. And you felt the shift in his demeanor.

The part no one ever saw.

The reason why he started calling you that.

Didn’t know that the first time he’d said it, was barely a whisper, as you rode him in his driver’s room after a race.

How you were so worked up, desperate, how your knees trembled as you bounced on him like you couldn’t stop.

They didn’t know how he said it when you were on top. How he groaned against your lips.

“Okay but seriously,” Charles says, laughing. “Is it like a….is it like a kink thing?”

You choke on your wine. And Lando drags his fingers higher up your leg.

Lando didn’t even so much as blink. “Absolutely not.”

And later, after everyone said their goodnights and you slipped into the car with him, Lando was quiet. Calm. Fingers brushing against your skin whenever they could.

And when you got back to the hotel. The door clicking shut.

He says, “Everyone thinks it started with ears…”

He presses you into the wall.

“But it was this fuckin’ cunt, Bunny.”

His voice was low. And you gasp, fingers curling into the fabric of his hoodie, as he grinds his hips into you. Slow. Heavy. Could feel how hard he was. 

He kisses your jaw, under your ear…biting, sucking, claiming you.

“Fuck,” he groans into your skin. “Remember that night? In the driver’s room? You got on top of me like you needed it. Like you were gonna die if I didn’t let you bounce on my fuckin’ cock.”

You whimper.

“I think about it every fuckin’ day.” He groans.

And you don’t even get a chance to respond before he lifts you off the ground, hands gripping your thighs, and carries you straight to the bed.

“M’so obsessed with it,” he says, voice rough. Kissing you again as he drops you on the mattress and yanks his hoodie over his head with one hand. “With you. With this fuckin’ cunt.”

He kneels between your legs, pulls your panties off, and then stuffs them in his back pocket.

He pulls his jeans down, cock hard and thick. Leaking.

“Don’t even wanna fuck you from behind anymore. Just want you on top. Losing your fuckin’ mind on my cock.”

You crawl into his lap, straddling him like instinct.

And he hisses when your cunt touches his tip.

“Y’turned it into a fuckin’ problem,” His hands grip your ass.

You drag his cock through your folds, teasing him. And he hits his head against the headboard with a thud as he drops his head back.

“Y’think I don’t notice the way you moan when I let you sit on it?” He pants. “The way you tell me to shut up and take it like a good boy?”

You sink down on him in a single motion.

“Fuck, Bunny…” He gasps. Hips jerking.

And you start moving. Steadily. Rolling into him.

“Every time you do this,” He says through gritted teeth, hands grabbing your hips. “I tell myself that it’ll be the last. I’ll tell myself Lando, be normal. Change it up.”

And you bounce on him harder.

“But then you climb into my lap with that fuckin crazed look in your eye. And I let you. Always let you.”

His head rests against the headboard. Neck thick. Veiny. Flushed.

“Ride me everywhere. Every fuckin’ place that you shouldn’t.”

He flexes his hips into you, just enough to make your cunt clench. And you gasp.

“Let you ride on me on that fuckin’ plane. My trainer two rows back. Had your sweatshirt over your lap like that would hide it.”

You whimper, pressing your hand to his chest. Cock twitching in you.

“Remember Suzuka?” He continues. “Showed up with no underwear under that skirt, climbed into my lap during lunch and said, five minutes. Just need to use it.”

He groans at the memory. At the feel of your cunt around him.

“Fuckin’ bounced on me while I tried to be normal. Bit into my shoulder while you came.”

You roll your hips harder, whining.

“Imola…my god…” He pants. “Told you I was exhausted. Needed to sleep.”

He lifts his head, eyes meeting yours. Eyes blown.

“And you just got on top. Said I’ll do all the work.” He huffs. “And you did. Fucked me so slow and deep. Grinding into me like you wanted my fuckin’ soul.”

You moan, squeezing him. Panting. 

“Monaco yacht…” His hands grip you harder. “Dragged me into that fuckin’ cabin during the afterparty…made me sit on that little chair.”

You both breath out. Hips grinding harder as he fucks into you.

“Remember how many people were there? How many of them heard the fuckin’ chair squeaking under us every time you dropped down onto my cock?”

You’re gasping now. Head falling into his neck.

And he fucking loses it.

Mouth on your throat, sucking a bruise there, as his cock slams up into you.

“Hotels, rental cars, Fuck…in a fuckin’ golf cart. Remember that?” He hisses. “Bahrain. Climbed into my lap after practice, pushed your panties to the side, said you needed to calm down. Calm down.”

You’re sobbing.

“It’s the only way I want it now. Moaning. Grinding. Milking me.”

Your body seizes. Hips uncontrollable now.

“Y’gonna come again?” He grunts. “Make another mess on my cock like always?”

You nod into his shoulder. Unable to speak.

“Do it,” He groans. “C’mon, Bunny. Fuckin’ come all over me.”

And you do.

With a loud moan, cunt squeezing him tight. Shaking. Trembling.

And he was right there with you. Hips jerking as he comes inside you, groaning your name out like he didn’t want it to end.

“Bunny…bunny. Fuck, I fuckin’ love you.”

You collapse into him. Wrecked. Smiling.

“You’ll do it in the morning, yeah?”

You laugh. “Obsessed.”

He kisses your temple. 

“Fuckin’ right.”

[cherriicou]

I just read both of your works on older bf! scoups and mingyu and I just want to say, that they are one of the best things that i have seen.

Could you do one with jeonghan? Thank you!!

older bf!/teacher jeonghan x college student! reader

a/n; thank u!! these are so fun to make :3 // word count; 1.2K

content; teacher/student relationship, age gap, fingering, jealousy/possessiveness, degradation, hair pulling, praise kink, oral sex (f), pet names, voyerism, exhibitionism, somnophilia, masturbating, dirty talk, classroom sex (srry :>), overstimulation, cock warming, smut with very little plot

MDNI 18+ under cut

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who first met you in his class. it was his 5th year teaching, and he hadn't had any distractions until you came along. it was like you had a crush on him since the start. batting your eyelashes during lectures, giggling with your friends when he called on you, asking questions after class that he knew you didn't need help in. you were a smart girl, only a childish one who wanted to flirt with her older professor.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who decides to play into your little crush. winking at you secretly while walking past the aisles, bending farther down to get close to your face when you asked for help, brushing his hand across your fingers to pick up your pencil, all making you think he had an interest in you, too. all your friends fed into your delusions saying 'he wants you,' 'just go ask him out,' after seeing the way you two look at each other; eyes mirroring desire.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who was a bit shocked at your sudden boldness. you just asked him out after class when all the students left, staring at your hands that were trembling as you waited for his response. he let out a breathy laugh, 'thought i'd be the one to ask,' he lifts your head up with his finger. while your face was red and probably sweaty, he had a cocky smile on and you could just feel the sense of dominance he was taking over you.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who drives a crazy expensive car. he picks you up from your apartment and takes you to dinner at a rooftop restaurant. and god, a tease is a literal understatement of how many jokes this man has made about your shy behavior. 'wow, you must've really wanted me,' making fun of how eager you were to ask him out within the second week of classes. but he liked knowing the effect he had on you, knowing how easy it'll be to have you beg for him... and that's what he did that night.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who loves to hear you begging. 'hannie, m-more,' he smiles at you while barely adding in a second finger. you couldn't take it anymore, he had been messing with your pussy for a while. kissing your inner thighs and only cutely sucking on your clit. fuck, he had such long, slender fingers that were reaching spots that your own couldn't ever reach. ‘please, please,’ his eyes devouring the look of your body being in shambles, he knew you were so close. 'aw baby, look how much you're whining when i hit this spot,' and that's when you cum, moans spilling out of your mouth as he continues fucking you through it. you didn’t even realize how close your orgasm was until he added his mouth while continuing to ram his fingerings in your sensitive cunt :< your mind almost goes blank until you see him take his dick out that was leaking with pre-cum from torturing you, and you knew you needed more of him.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who makes you touch yourself in front of him. he’ll sit back on a chair across the bed near the wall, manspreading with his arms crossed. your body is sprawled on the bed, your knees bent while you shamelessly run your fingers against your folds. ‘come on, baby,’ your body shudders to his voice, ‘show me how slutty you can be,’ you can tell how turned on he is from this. the bulge in his pants growing while he hears your whimpers. your own fingers playing with your clit, inserting them into your hole to tease yourself. ‘jeonghannie, fuck,’ your hips start to rock on your own fingers, your other hand messing with your tits, grabbing them and moaning like a literal porn star. jeonghan loves it, it’s like his own movie. he doesn’t let you continue this for long though, before he’s already replacing your fingers with his to finish the job for you <3

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN needs you to cockwarm him while he works. come onnn, why can’t he have his pretty little gf help him let loose as he does a dozen of paperwork :< you hate it, for the obvious reason being you weren’t allowed to move. but, jeonghan saw it as a way to keep him company! he loved how you smelled, your voice, your playful hands in his hair, ‘you’re doing so good for me, princess,’ he pats your hair, sliding his hand down all the way toward your lower back. he couldn’t help messing with you a tiny bit, his playful nature taking over. you let out a breathy laugh while trying so hard to keep still for him. you couldn’t distract him, that would make you a bad student and a bad girlfriend..

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who is a big fan of morning sex. he wakes up to a cute expression on your face… lips separated softly, hair messy, eyelashes fluttering at times like you were having a sweet dream <3 it was like you were made for him to admire. but then, oh he just loves to slip down beneath you. spreading your plush thighs so your pussy was exposed to him, smirking as he sees all the previous marks from before. he always leave kisses down your thighs, awake or not. then once he reaches your cunt, he dives straight in, first leaving tiny licks while his sharp nose brushes against your clit. he looks up at you to see your eyebrows scrunched up, mouth the slightest open. he sees it as a signal to keep going. his tongue continues to flick up and down; his head simultaneously nodding, shaking, and jerking in each direction, he fucking loved how you tasted. ‘a-ah,’ your hand latches onto your boyfriends hair instinctively, he lets out a groan as your sweet moans encouraging him to keep going. ‘good morning, princess,’ he detaches himself for a bit to give you a warm smile. you shiver at the sight, his mouth completely covered in your silk with sleepy, hungry eyes.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who has a hate/love relationship with your sense of style. he knows you choose the days you attended his class to wear the most shortest dresses, the most skimpiest tops. and he adored it, really, he found it adorable. however, that didn't stop other men from looking at you lustfully. and he hated that. he hated how they thought they had a single chance with you, his precious doll. and you, only having eyes for him, don’t even notice their disgusting stares. but he has to deal with it. deal with them tapping on your shoulder to ask for a pencil just to get a glimpse of your cleavage, making obnoxiously loud jokes in hopes to hear your giggle. that won’t do… so after class, he immediately tells you to stay. eyes glaring at the guys while he stood dangerously close to you, you completely unaware of what’s going to happen.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who as soon as everyone is gone, you're completely bent over the desk you were just sitting at. hair pulled into his fist, panties just pulled to the side as he rams into you from the back. 'my little whore, tell me,' his hand lands right on your ass, 'you liked the attention those guys gave you?' you can't even speak from how hard he's pushing into you, walls clenching on his cock making it almost impossible to make out words. his hand lands harder on your ass, a literal scream coming out of your throat. 'n-no, never,' you plead to him, but he only coos at you, flipping you so you're on your back, and he can see your pleasured face with his own eyes.

OLDER BF! JEONGHAN who locks eyes with one of the boys who was bothering you. he was peeking into the class from the door upstairs after hearing your lewd noises. ‘fuck, gripping on me like a slut, princess,’ making sure to speak extra loud for the guy to hear. you gasp as he starts to play with clit, still abusing your fragile body that was making a mess all over him and the floor. your moans only growing louder when you feel yourself close to cumming, satisfying his ego when he sees the boy gone. he doesn’t care if he completely traumatized him.. go ahead tell your friends! and they never bothered you again :3

[cowgirlvi]

mdni. sub-bottom vi. fem-top reader. vaginal sex. strap-on usage. rough sex.

vi masterlist

word count: 1.2k

since the breakup with vi, you’ve heard numerous rumors about her getting around campus, taking girls out on sweet little dates and then fucking them stupid afterwards. it would normally bother you, except you know vi’s pent up, you know she’s not fully satisfied with the sex she’s having, because you know none of these other girls have put in the effort to fuck vi. 

you’ve yet to hear any rumors about these girls stuffing vi’s hole with their cocks, and you know it must be killing her. she’s always had a greedy hole, one that needs constant attention— whether it’s from your tongue, your fingers, or your strap. 

after seeing the types of girls vi has been taking out on dates, you know for a fact that they’re not fucking her—and even if they wanted to, they wouldn’t be able to fuck her right, they wouldn’t be able to fuck her like you do.

so you honestly find this whole situation funny, the way vi is so clearly trying to rub these girls in your face. you’re not falling for her bait, you’re not going to give her a reaction, because there’s nothing to even react to.

which is why you aren’t surprised when vi shows up at your doorstep a week later. her cheeks are flushed and her puppy-dog eyes are round and filled with a mix of conflicting emotions. you almost laugh in her face, but you’re quick to school your emotions.

clearing your throat, you say, “can i help you, vi?”

”i just—i feel bad about the way things ended between us,” vi replies. god, her eyes are so blue, so full of hope and desperation. she longs for you to fuck her, that you’ll finally make the ache go away, the one that’s been tormenting her little pussy.

”mmm, you do?” you tap your manicured nails against your front door, appearing bored and uninterested. “will that be all, vi?” you ask, already beginning to shut your door.

vi is quick to shove her hand against your door with a loud thud, pushing it open and then peering at you with eyes suddenly full of shame. “baby, i—fuck, i miss you, okay?” she finally admits.

you smile. you already knew that.

which explains how vi ended up in your bed, the pink sheets a ruffled mess, her clothes flung across the room, and her muscular frame a trembling mess on your mattress. she’s laying on her back, holding her legs up to her chest, her cute pussy on full display, and your strap is pressed inside her to the hilt.

you can reach so deep inside her in this position, you can hit all the spots that make her shake, that make her cry and scream. not to mention, the view of her cunt swallowing you whole, her fluttering hole drowning your cock in her tangy juices. 

you can see the desperation in every line of her body, the way she’s aching to be used. it’s a sight that would have once filled you with jealousy and possessiveness if anyone else were to see it, but now as you stare down at vi, all you want to do is laugh at her, to coo at how pathetic she looks.

”you missed me, huh?” you say, driving your hips forward with a rough thrust. “that’s funny, baby. i heard you’ve been keeping pretty busy.”

vi goes crosseyed when you slam against her cunt, a strangled moan escaping her pouty lips. “mmffuck!”

you run a finger along vi’s slit while keeping a steady pace with your strap, feeling the slick, warm heat of her arousal. vi shudders at the touch, her hips twitching forward slightly, seeking more contact. you giggle, knowing that no matter how many girls vi brought home, no matter how many times she tried to replace you... nothing could compare to this.

”fuck, baby, your pussy’s a mess. none of those girls knew how to take care of this greedy cunt, did they?”

vi immediately shakes her head, mindlessly moaning. “ahh, only y-you—it’s only ever been you—unhh—i swear!“

you know vi too well, you know her body better than vi knows it herself. you know that vi needs to be stretched, to be filled, to be used hard and fast and without mercy. and judging by the desperate—borderline anguished—look on vi’s face, you were right to assume that none of those other girls could give her what she craved.

vi’s feet bob aimlessly in the air, her legs spread as wide as her flexibility allows her to, and she looks like an easy whore— she looks like the type of dumb slut that would be desperate enough to beg some rando on the street to fill her up.

”poor baby,” you coo down at her. “you just needed me to take care of you all this time.”

”yes, yes, fuck! need you, uuuh—“

you relish in the desperation in vi’s voice. you know you have vi right where you want her, trembling and needy, craving the one thing no one else can give her.

the obscene sounds of skin slapping against skin fills the room, punctuated by vi’s high, breathy moans and grunts. you know you’re hitting all the right spots, know that you’re fucking vi in a way no one else will ever be able to replicate. she’s stuck with you forever.

"fuck, baby... you're so tight," you groan, your hips never faltering in their relentless rhythm. “your pussy is sucking on me so hard—mmf—can’t get enough, can you?”

her creamy pussy is hugging your strap like a vise and you relish in the way her body spasms around you. you know vi is addicted to this feeling, to the delicious mix of pleasure and pain that only you can give her, to the way you stir up her guts. it’s a high she can’t find anywhere else, a blissful oblivion that vi has been desperately chasing ever since your breakup.

you watch in dark satisfaction as vi’s tough, muscular body goes pliant and soft underneath you, all because she’s filled with cock. vi’s a fucked-out disaster; her abs twitching and flexing, her arms trembling as she tries to hold her legs back for you, her thick thighs quivering.

”ohh—hnnnggff! fuck, fuck, i’m gonna come!” vi sobs, her back arching harshly, her tits bouncing obscenely with every slam of your hips. her voice is raspy and she looks sinful.

you grip vi’s waist hard enough to leave bruises as you piston your hips impossibly faster, her wetness splashing between the two of you. vi’s eyes roll back in her head, her tongue hanging out stupidly as she surrenders to the intense pleasure radiating from her core. 

“come for me, vi. who knows, ahh, if i’ll ever wanna fuck you again after this, so you better come right fucking now,” you threaten.

it’s like a flip switches within her because suddenly vi’s body seizes beneath you, as if she has no choice but to obey. she’s squealing and gasping as her body tenses and shakes at the same time, her thighs trying to close around you, but you’re quick to shove her legs back open; you’re determined to wring out every last drop of pleasure.

“mmffagh! holy fuuck—ahhh! yes, yes, please!”

it’s the most devastating orgasm of her life.

(2/3/25)