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wd-ghosty · 1 day

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Careful Consideration

2018Raph x Spike fic

On a mission the turtle boys were in a back room about to bust some crooks when they realized they were surrounded by caged animals.

Mikey’s was the first to point it out, “Hey guys, they’re animals everywhere” he excitedly exclaimed, “And a bunch of them are colorful, or big, or pretty”

“Or illegal.” Donnie said, “Mikey I don’t know if you notice, but most of not all of these animals aren’t from the US, let alone New York.” He pointed out, while wandering around the room, “And considering our circumstances, I’d say they’re being smuggled. There’s a lot of things rich people will do to show off, including displacing animals for the sake of aesthetics.”

The mood instantly shifted Mikey went from excited to disappointed. “I guess you’re right Donnie, last time I checked having a pet jaguar isn’t legal. N-“

“Guys!” Raph interrupts Mikey in a somewhat irritated tone, “We are on a mission FOCUS… have you guys seen Leo?”

“He’s in the vents” Both Donnie and Raph look at Mikey in confusion

“He’s in the-“ they hear the sound of something falling followed by screaming,

“GET HIM!”

Without missing a beat, they burst into the room full of foot goons, and Leo popping in and out of portals in effort to escape.

“Hey guys! You finally decided to stop waiting around.” He said while tumbling around.

“Leo what happened to discretion, what happened to being sneaky, what happened to the element of surprise!” He angrily shouts at his younger brother, while bashing and throwing goons.

“Hey hey, as leader I decided that I should scope out the area see what they’re doing, so I went in the vents right?”

“Why didn’t you just portal around!?” Donnie questioned

“Because I don’t wanna rely so much on my amazing mystical powers OKAY! But anyways while being an amazing ninja I fell through the roof, teehee.”

“Why didn’t you just stick to the plan!!!” Raph screams at the top of his lungs growing more and more irritated

“Hey buddy what happened happened, now let’s just beat some goons, get some pizza then go home” he tries to calm his brother down and it worked for now but it would ultimately end up futile.

After the fight they went back into the back room with all the animals inside, Mikey wandered around looking at all of them, while doing wonders on what to do with them.

“Well I guess we could just-“

“Guys!” Mikey brings as much attention to himself as possible while carrying a cage and running up to his brothers.

“Michael what the hell are you holding!?” Donnie shouted as he started to back up not know what his brother was brings up to them.

“Guys look it’s a mini Raph!” Inside the cage was a big Alligator snapping turtle, and Mikey looked at it with such awe and admiration. “Can I keep it?” He looks at Raph with a huge smile on his face

Raph, Leo, and Donnie all look at each other then start laughing

“Mikey no offense but even dad got you robot pets for your birthdays you stopped playing with them after a couple hours” Leo tried to hold in his laugh while saying that but it was far too hard for him

“Yeah, Mike love you, truly. But any animal would die in your care. Let’s not sentence the innocent turtle to death.”

Mikey annoyed by Leo alone Donnie’s disbelief in his capabilities he turns to Raph hoping for him to say yes

“Well… I don’t know Mikey, a pet is allot of a responsibility.” Mikey looked at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes he can muster, “but I trust you… you can keep it.”

“WHAAAAAT” the disaster twins screamed I unison.

“Omigosh Omigosh Omigosh!!! Thanks Raph, I’ll love him forever!”

The next week

Mikey was sitting in the projector room watching a movie and Raph walks in with the turtle in hand,

“Mikey!”

He turns to him, with a happy face, “Oh hey Raph! I found this really cool show an-“

“When was the last time you fed him!”

Mikey looks at Raph with the upmost confusion, “Who is the him in question???”

“The turtle! The one you begged me to keep!”

“Well I wouldn’t say i begged, I just asked a lot… oh yeah! Raph#2, hey little buddy” he waves to the turtle, but Raph pulls it away.

“I trusted you to take care of him, but it doesn’t even look like you’ve taken him out of his cage”

“Well I just forgot, I’m gonna play with him.”

“No, it’s obvious that you’re not ready for a pet. We should get rid of him.”

“Nooo! Raph he’s my turtle!” Mikey protests Ralph’s thought, “I can take care of him!” He pulls out his puppy dog eyes once more trying to get something out of his brother,

“… we don’t have to get rid of him, but we can’t leave him in your care either. He’ll be in my room, you can play with him whenever you feel like.” Raph lets Mikey win, and he walks away dejectedly and with the feeling he’s gonna regret it.

“Thanks Raph! Mwa!”

“Don’t! If I don’t see you trying to form a friendship with this turtle we’re getting rid of him.”

“I will! Don’t worry!”

The next week

Raph talking to himself in his room about Mikey and his new pet. “It’s been a whole week since Mikey convinced me to keep the turtle, and he hasn’t seen it since. He’ll he didn’t even give it a name, he calls it Raph number 2.” He turns to the turtle cage,

“but I kinda feel bad for the little guy, he was taken away from his home, point in a cage, then transporting him must have been long, and now he’s here and he’s probably so scared.”

He walks over to his cage and opens it up, and picks up the turtle. Looking at it a little closer he has really big eyes, and a murky green color.

“Well aren’t you a cutie?” Raph runs his hand along his shell and pricks his finger, “Hey!” The turtle locks eyes with Raph, staring into his soul. “Well it isn’t your fault, I touched your spike… That’s what I’m gonna name you, Spike!” He lets out a chuckle, “Little Spike,” he rubs Spikes head and gets a chirp out of the tiny one. “I guess it’s settled, common spike let’s go for a walk.”

And that’s how the beautiful friendship between Raph and Spike began.

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thetarttfuldickhead · 11 months

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Does Will the Kitman want to take dating Jamie out for a spin or is this a teammates-only kind of thing?

We already know that Will would like to take Jamie (and Roy) drinking, so I have no doubt whatsoever that he’d jump at the chance to go on a proper date with our number 9. Jamie, having seen whatever it is he saw on Will’s phone in 3x08, is quite eager at the prospect too! (I mean, in this utopian crack scenario, Jamie is happy to go on dates with any and all members of the team as well as team adjacent people; absolutely nothing happens that he doesn’t want to happen!)

Potentially it’s initially a little awkward because in terms of their professional lives, there’s quite a big (if informal) power imbalance between the team’s star player and the kitman – but then again, Will has shown willing to (attempt to) breach that distance before and Jamie is easy going enough these days, so once things get going, they go great. Will isn’t the least bit shy about taking Jamie out to things that perhaps no one else would think to take Jamie out to, for fear of it not being cool enough or whatever. He brings Jamie to meet his mum on the second date; Jamie, who knows all about being mad close with one’s mum, is charmed.

Also, I’m calling it, Will is absolutely a dom waiting to happen. He’s not quite ready for it yet, perhaps – he’s still got a rather distinct puppy energy – and it’s very possibly he hasn’t even recognized the potential within himself yet. But I recognize it, Will. In my heart, I know what you could be.

(For reference, this asks refers to my reply on another ask, which I received after speculating about Jamie being ready to be part-time boyfriend to everyone on the team who wants him to.)

#i am halfway delighted by this image nonny #so thank you so much for bringing the possibility to my attention #this concludes today's mad ask answering marathon as i'm now off the train #there are a bunch of asks left and i will get to them in due time #but i am still on a semi-hiatus to focus on fic writing #so it's likely to be a while #thank you for your patience and fun questions #asks #will kitman #jamie/will

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suskz · 1 month

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Saw jockchan x nerd reader. I was wondering if you could write something about swim captain Chan x quiet female reader ?

pairing: SwimCaptain!Chan x Quiet!fem!Reader

t/w: smut ; semi-public sex ; secret relationship ; oral (f!rec) ; jealousy ; exhibitionism kink (but no exhibitionism) ; unprotected sex (be smarter, don’t do that).

w/c: around 1,8k

a/n: It’s 1:45 a.m. here, I’m going to sleep now. Hope you like it! ♡

18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

There are 25 minutes left until the end of the training session when you arrive.

"Come see me at training today, it will bring me luck for tomorrow’s championship." This was his sweet request this afternoon, and you naturally said yes; it's just a pity that you arrived an hour late.

Your quick steps to take a seat in the stands can’t be heard by the guys as they talk near the pool, but Chan notices you the moment you enter.

His head turns in your direction and he smiles at you, waving a hand at you. You do the same, returning the greeting.

Immediately, his eyes shift to Changbin and Jisung though, members of the team, who seem to be arguing, and he approaches them.

It doesn’t take you long to understand that they were arguing about who is the fastest swimmer of the two, as shortly after they are giving each other challenging looks as they get into position and enter the water when Chan gives them the signal.

You like seeing him in leader mode in moments like this. It’s extremely hot, but also really cute when he turns in your direction to look at you, shaking his head in exasperation, making you giggle.

But your attention shifts a little further away from you when you hear a girl speaking.

"Did you see him? Now you can’t say he isn’t gorgeous." One of the two girls says to the other.

“He’s freaking perfect, oh my God,” the other girl comments. “What did you say his name was?”

“Bang Chan; I’ll give you his Instagram.”

Your teeth clench at the last sentence. Are they talking about Chan? Your Chan?

The same Chan who kisses, fucks, and cuddles you every day?

You briefly consider letting them know. You should turn to them and tell them to their faces, but there’s something holding you back, keeping you still. And this thing prohibits you from letting them know how things really are, so you sit there in silence, enduring their annoying compliments about him for what feels like endless minutes.

Yes, his body and muscles are stunning. Yes, his voice is sensual and his laugh is sweet. Yes, he has an irresistible gaze. Do they really need to keep repeating that?

When the training ends and you think you’ve finally gotten rid of them, they’re in front of him before you can make a move.

You watch them from afar, standing and waiting, trying to appear as normal and indifferent as possible while they congratulate the captain for his hard work as a leader. Ah, and also for his hard work in the gym.

He chuckles with his dimples showing, first shaking his hands in front of himself in a gesture of denial, but ending up scratching the back of his neck as he thanks them cordially. The two girls look at each other and giggle.

But a few minutes later, it’s you who finds yourself in the locker room with him, his hands on your hips and his lips on yours, feverish and needy.

“Were you jealous?” He grins teasingly, but deep down he feels immense tenderness and perhaps a little embarrassment knowing that you love him so much that you can’t stand other girls complimenting him in that way.

You don’t respond, looking at his bare chest and hoping he’ll stop.

His smile grows, “I saw how you were looking at them, your eyes were burning flames.” He stifles a chuckle as you raise your head with a guilty expression.

“Was I that obvious?” You ask, your cheeks starting to blush, embarrassed by your exaggerated reaction.

“Yes, but I like it.” He leans in to kiss you again, but soon his hands slip under your shirt and you break the kiss.

“Chan, we can’t do this here.” you whisper against his lips. All the other guys from the team are just meters away, taking a shower. You risk being heard, and you don’t want that to happen.

“But I need you now.” he whispers on your neck, starting to leave warm, wet kisses.

You don’t respond, but you tilt your head to give him more space and don’t stop him, and he takes this action as agreement.

He licks and sucks on a patch of your skin, leaving a red mark that will be prominently displayed for days. He might get completely hard just at the thought of you walking around with the mark of his presence on your body, even if others don’t know whose it is.

He pulls away and admires it, then gives it one final kiss, making you hiss from the slight pain.

Needy, his hand grabs yours and pulls you into the bathroom. You don’t resist; you follow him, silent, and together you enter one of the showers, closing the curtain. The one in the corner, with an empty shower next to it.

And then, Chan turns on the water, wetting both of you, although not completely.

“Chan, you finally came in, why did it take you so long?” Changbin yells from a few showers away.

“I just had a moment with Y/n.” Chan responds casually, as if he weren’t currently lowering your shorts and underwear at the same time.

“Oh, she’s already gone?” This time it’s Jisung’s voice.

“Yeah, she went back to the dorm.”

There’s something, something that arouses both of you at the idea that you’re doing something you shouldn’t be doing while his friends are there, just meters away from you, unaware.

His fingers move skilfully between your folds, rubbing your clit with one finger quickly while two of his other fingers hold your pussy lips open as your hips move back and forth instinctively.

When his fingers enter your cunt, they do so easily from how wet you are and from all the times his cock has been inside you.

You take his face in your hands to bring your lips closer to his ear so you can talk to him, “We don’t have time, put it in already.” You whisper, and his cock twitches in the tight shorts he’s wearing, reminding him of how damn tight they feel.

He withdraws his fingers and turns you around, replacing them with his dick, entering you slowly to allow you to more easily suppress any sounds that could be heard by the others.

His hands hold the lower parts of your cheeks to spread them apart to get in deeper as he moves inside you. It’s not the best position, but you can’t bend over because you’d risk slipping.

Your moans are silent. Your heavy breaths are fortunately hard to hear with the shower water running and their voices humming.

Chan tries not to fuck you too hard to avoid the sound of your skins slapping together. Because you’re not alone, and no one must hear you. Even though, maybe, he actually wants someone to hear you. He wants someone to find out about the dirty things you’re doing without their knowledge, right there near them. Maybe he secretly wishes someone would open the shower curtain and see you in this situation.

And maybe you want it too.

But these thoughts don’t stop both of you from freezing at the sudden sound of Hyunjin’s voice. “Does anyone have shower gel?”

His movements pause only for a moment. He should feel embarrassed, mortified to hear his friend’s voice so close to you in such a situation, but instead, it sends a jolt of pleasure to his cock, and he immediately starts moving again.

You look at him with an expression now fearful, but this arouses you as much as it does him.

Jeongin’s voice is quick to respond, “I do, here it is.”

“Thanks Jeonginnie, love you.” Hyunjin thanks him in his sweet voice.

Chan pulls out of you, but before you have time to say anything, he turns you around, grabs your thighs from behind, and lifts you, pushing you against the wall. His arms slide under your knees and spread you open, re-entering you.

“That’s better.” he whispers against your lips, and you nod in agreement with quick breaths.

The pleasure intensifies for both of you. A soft moan escapes his lips, not being able to hold it back, causing him to bite his lower lip and hide his face on your shoulder, his ears turning redder as he failed to contain his pleasure.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling strands, causing his hips to buck up in a harder thrust, making your head slide back against the shower tiles.

It’s at this moment that the others start coming out of the showers, and soon they are out of the locker room after greeting Chan and telling him to hurry up.

When everyone is out, you both look at each other, then chuckle.

“I couldn’t hold back anymore.” you admit.

“Me neither.” he says.

“I noticed.” you tease, and he looks at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows in an offended look.

You clench around him on purpose, eliciting a needy moan from his lips. In response, he thrusts into you, and this time it’s you who whines.

“You’re as needy as I am.” he grins, resuming his movements. This time you’re a bit freer to let out your voice, but you need to hurry. His thrusts are faster now, reaching deeper spots inside you, being able to fuck you harder, eliciting a series of staccato moans from you.

“Touch yourself.” he orders and you immediately obey, without needing to be told twice.

His movements become more erratic. He’s close, and you can tell by the way his cock twitches inside you and releases small droplets of pre-cum.

His moans grow deeper, and he closes his eyes, trying to hold back from coming with all the self-control he has to make you reach your climax too, with him. But it’s difficult for him, and soon he has you back on your feet, giving a few final thrusts before pulling out of you and stroking his cock quickly through his orgasm.

He tries not to throw his head back in pleasure, wanting to see the ropes of his hot cum covering your pussy and thighs as you stand there with trembling legs.

Your mind is still fogged with pleasure, and you don’t notice what’s happening until you feel his tongue on your clit, which makes you let out a whimper. You look down to see your boyfriend on his knees with his head between your legs, looking up at you.

You run your fingers through his hair, and he pulls away, “You need to come quickly, someone will be coming for spot checks soon.” He warns you before returning with his tongue between your folds and two fingers inside you, stroking at your sensitive spot.

#bang chan #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan x reader smut #bang chan hard hours #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader smut #bang chan hard thoughts #anon ask ♡

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reidmotif · 18 days

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Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)

Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion.

Mine happened to be a badly placed window.

Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold.

Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers, and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be.

And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him.

I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep, so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last.

What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence.

He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon.

While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means. I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was.

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas.

I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact.

Him. The man in the window.

“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod.

“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other.

“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice.

“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately.

There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit.

I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin. “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient.

“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds.

There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion.

The man in the window was hot.

He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names.

“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment.

“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands.

I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.

It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex.

I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me.

And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right?

So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor. I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do. I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win.

And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties.

It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this, literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach.

Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.

It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow.

It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right?

Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.

It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks, the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit.

My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own, mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer.

That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation.

I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.

Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for?

I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered.

After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come.

Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do?

I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.

As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything.

Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes.

Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed.

“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep.

I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave.

“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me.

Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to.

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed?

“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost.

I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that?

There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever. If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly.

I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it.

“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.”

A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief.

He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs.

“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body.

“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly.

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.”

His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him?

It was so fucking hot.

“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?”

I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth.

“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.”

I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there.

“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.”

Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me.

“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation.

“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.”

There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer.

I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem.

I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me.

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock. “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm.

“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder.

“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?”

I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?”

“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.

“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?”

“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.”

I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit. “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.”

“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.”

A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.

“Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip.

A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday.

All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted.

woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3

also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below

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mariasont · 1 month

Text

Tie a Tie - S.R

a/n: i'm a slut for a good tie

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: you ask spencer to teach you how to tie a tie

warnings: cuties being cute!

wc: 1.2k

"How do you tie a tie?"

The question and the voice attached to it made Spencer do a double take, his pencil pausing mid-stroke. He directed he gaze upward, and there you were. Beside his desk. Looking angelic as ever.

Today, your hair was embellished with ribbons, pretty pink bows tied neatly above your two braids. It was cute.

You hardly visited at his desk, in fact, this might be the first time. He had always been the one to seek you out at your receptionist desk.

He realized the lapse in conversation had gone on longer than what social norms dictate. He cleared his throat and reached up to rub his neck, offering you sheepish yet attentive look.

"Do I have something on my face?" The question came with an uncharacteristic frown that didn't suit you. A shimmering nail reached up, brushing your cheek as he fought the urge to replace your hand with his.

"No, no sorry," he assured quickly, a sense of equilibrium returning as your mouth flipped into a bright smile. "Just--, you want to know how to tie a tie?"

His intention wasn't to question you, but he was curious. What did you need to know how to tie a tie for? The answer seemed clear, yet unwelcome, as he begrudgingly considered the possibility of a significant other in your life, leaving a sour taste in his mouth.

"Yes," you affirmed, nodding like one of those dashboard bobbleheads, sending your ribbons dancing. "There's this outfit on Pinterest that I wanted to recreate, but it needs a tie, and well, I immediately thought of you, Dr. Reid. You're the tie expert, after all. I know you're super busy, so it's totally okay if now isn't a good time, but maybe you could text me? Or write it down, or--"

The tension dissipated from his frame, and he interjected with a soft smile. "Yeah, no problem at all. I'll teach you," he said, rising to grab an empty chair. He placed it opposite his, motioning for you to take a seat. "And please, It's Spencer."

He doesn't know how many times he's told you that Dr. Reid sounded too formal coming from you.

"Oh, right, Spencer." They way his name rolled off your tongue sent a wave of warmth through him. You bit your lip, crossing one leg over the other, the tip of your kitten heel brushing his calve in the process. "Thank you so much. I tried to watch YouTube tutorials, but it wasn't really working out."

"It's no problem," he said, trying to keep his cool as his surveyed the vacant office, immensely grateful the team was out on a case, and he was left behind to work on documents.

It wasn't that he was embarrassed by you, he would be an idiot to feel that way. He was embarrassed by how utterly out of control he felt around you. "Uh, here--"

His hands moved with practiced ease, a brief hesitation passing before he placed it around your neck. Your smile was disarming, compelling him to avert his gaze to prevent any impulsive actions. Gently, he swept your hair aside at the nape of your neck, careful not to entangle it with the fabric.

Spencer's fingers stalled, suspended over the smooth silk encircling you. The awareness of your focused gaze was palpable, almost tangible.

"Okay," he started, his tone even despite the butterflies attacking at his stomach. "The first thing you need to do is cross the long end over the short end, like this."

He illustrated the motion, his hands lightly skimming over your collarbone, eliciting a soft giggle from the unexpected tickle.

"Like this?" you repeated, your tongue making a brief appearance against your pink stained lips, trying to follow his lead.

"Exactly," he confirmed with a nod, smile inching across his face. "Now you bring the long end up through the loop around your neck."

His touch was light on the fabric, his fingertips just grazing the skin below your ear, a reaction visible in the slight shiver that traveled over you, goosebumps taking over.

You watched his every move, your head tilting to the side, a lock of hair falling into your face. "And then?"

"Now, you fold it down through the knot you've just made." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he focused on the task at hand. "Pull it all the way though, and then adjust the tightness by holding the short end and sliding the knot up."

With his guidance, you managed to complete the knot. "I did it!"

The excitement in your eyes was infectious, and he felt the rosy hue take over his face, a blush he couldn't contain at the sight of you. His laughter spilled out in response.

"You're a quick learner." His hands remained on the tie, a touch too long, maybe.

The intrusive ring of his phone fractured the moment, like a glass dropping on hard ground. He glanced at the caller ID--Hotch, of course--and sighed.

"Sorry, I have to take this."

"It's okay. Thank you for the help, Spencer."

Spencer almost died the moment you entered the bullpen the next morning, almost toppling over and dying of asphyxiation because of how easily you took his breath away.

There you were, in what he could only deduce was the Pinterest inspired outfit, a pink tie neatly arranged around your neck, its tail slipped into the waistband of your skirt.

"Spencer, you forgot your tie yesterday," you called out, extending the forgotten piece of fabric with a smile.

A red akin to a ripe strawberry bloomed across Spencer's face as he watched Morgan and Prentiss freeze mid-step, exchanging knowing looks as they glanced between you two.

"Reid, what's this about a tie?"

Of course, Morgan was butting in, because it just wouldn't be a normal day of work if he wasn't.

"It's not--We didn't--," he faltered, his eyes meeting yours, finding an innocent cluelessness to the implications around them. Opting to dismiss the others, he focused on you, taking the tie with hands that weren't quite steady. "I mean, thank you."

You simply beamed at him.

"Do you like my outfit?" you asked, doing a little twirl that made the hem of your skirt flare out. He had to avert his eyes, knowing that the way he was looking you over would certainly not be perceived as innocent. "I got your text with the instructions. It was so sweet because I definitely did not remember everything you said yesterday. It gets kind of confusing with all the steps."

He was momentarily lost for words. "It's... you look... amazing."

Spencer was still fumbling for words when you stepped closer, the soft scent of your perfume wrapping around him.

"Well, it's all thanks to you."

Before he could respond, your rose onto the balls of your feet and planted a gentle kiss on his cheek. It was quick, innocent, but it left his knees feeling like they might buckle

As you pulled away, his skin tingled where your lips had been, and he stood there, utterly dumbstruck, his face a canvas painted with various shades of pink.

Morgan stared at him, his eyebrows raised in silent question, but Spencer didn't care. For a short moment, he didn't care about anything else--not the case files, not the teasing of his colleagues, not the world outside. There was only the warmth on his cheek and the sudden lightness in his chest.

He decided this was his new lucky tie.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x bimbo reader #spencer reid x fem reader #spencer reid x receptionist #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #dr reid #reid #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 month

Text

my aphrodite

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, established relationship, husband!rafe, pregnant!reader, pregnancy sex but not really pregnancy kink, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, brief mentions of issues with pregnancy (just at the very beginning, its rafes anxiety)

“oh thank god you're home.” you rush up to rafe the second the front door shuts behind him.

“what's wrong?” rafe asks, eyes widening, thoughts immediately shifting to what could possibly be the problem. “is it the baby? are you bleeding?”

rafe reaches for your stomach, looking over your body.

“god, nothing like that.” you shake your head. “the baby is fine im not fine though.” before rafe can interrupt you, you quickly continue. “im so horny, babe. like so fucking horny. my hormones are- god, like im already wet just from seeing you i need you to fuck me.”

“jesus.” rafe presses a hand against his chest, feeling how fast his heart is beating. “yeah, of course, let's go upstairs.”

“too far.” you grasp rafes hand, tugging him into the kitchen. you lean over the counter and flip up the bottom of your maternity dress, showing off your already bare and wet pussy.

“jesus.” rafe says again, this time his tone light as he laughs. “you really are needy.”

“do something. do something, im going crazy.” you plead, arms resting on the countertop.

your head drops to the cold marble as rafe gets down on his knees behind you, pressing his face between the opening of your thighs.

“oh, fuck.” you moan out as rafes mouth meets your pussy, smearing your juices across his chin as he eats you out.

what you can't see is rafe pulling his cock out of his pants, stroking himself to hardness just from your taste on his tongue.

rafe turns his attention to your clit, teasingly running the tip of his tongue around it in wide circles before closing in, pressing kisses to your most sensitive part.

“more.” you beg, and rafe is quick to listen as he sucks your clit into his mouth, both hands coming to hold your thighs now that he's sufficiently hard.

you let out a satisfied moan, glad to finally have rafes attention where youve been craving it all day, but it isn't what you truly want.

“fuck me. need your cock, rafey. need it so bad. want you to put another baby in me.” you whine out, knowing while it may not be possible, you need to be filled with him in every way possible.

rafe stands quickly, scrambling to his feet as he pushes his cock into you, moaning when he sinks into your wetness, soft and open for him as he immediately begins to push his hips forward into you.

“god, finally.” you squeal.

“next time just call me, ill come home from work to fuck you.” rafe laughs, watching the way your hands are gripping the marble, trying to find something to hold but only finding the smooth surface.

“maybe ill just tell the secretary im bringing you in lunch and you can fuck me in your office.” you laugh airly.

“except we both know you can't be quiet.” rafe grunts as he speeds his hips up to keep you satisfied.

“mhm exactly.” you smile, looking back over your shoulder at rafe. “remind everyone in your office that you're mine.”

rafe just nods. he knows no one has forgotten, not when you come in every other day to drop him off lunch, telling him how bored you are when he's not home and how much you desperately miss him.

you keep your head turned as rafe unbuttons his shirt, his hips still pushing forward as he lets the fabric fall from his shoulders, revealing his sculpted torso.

“you're like a damn greek god.” you moan out, finding your husband even more attractive now that you're pregnant with his baby, something you didn't even realize was possible.

“then you're my aphrodite.” rafe bends over your back, pressing a kiss to your lips that you graciously accept.

you let out a whine when he pulls away, only for rafe to quickly maneuver you, flipping you over and picking you up so you're sat on the countertop.

“need to keep kissing you.” rafe says, grabbing his cock and realigning himself with your pussy as his mouth dominates yours.

“god, yes.” you whine, pressing yourself as close to rafe as you can with your pregnant belly, hips at the very edge of the marble slab.

rafe takes over your entire body, pushing into your pussy while his mouth leaves you with no other room to think about anything other than him.

“i love you baby.” rafe moans, barely pulling his mouth away to talk. “you're so beautiful.”

“cum in me.” you whine. “please, need it.”

“yeah, i got you.” rafe grunts, putting all his focus into pressing inside of you, determined to make you cum.

he sighs with relief when he feels you squeeze around him, your pussy clenching as your high hits, entire body shuddering with pleasure as rafe allows the wall to fall as he moans out your name and cums inside of you.

“fuck! baby!” rafe shouts, pushing as deep inside of you as he can, it's not like he needs to worry about getting you pregnant when you're already filled with his baby.

“ah, shit.” you whine, laying back against the countertop, splayed out, maternity dress still pushes up, showing off your belly and dripping pussy as rafe carefully pulls out.

“come on, let's get you in the bath.” rafe scoops you up in his arms, biceps bulging as he carries you up the stairs.

“remember, no hot water.” you hum as rafe sets you down in the chair he dragged into the bathroom just for you, not wanting you to have to stand while doing your makeup or brushing your teeth.

“i know.” rafe laughs softly, having learned everything about pregnancy in order to help you. he leans down over the chair, hands on either arm. “but thanks for the reminder, beautiful.”

you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him back into another kiss. the bath will have to wait.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 9 months

Text

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

#pluralistic #strikes #uaw #labor #automakers #big three #big car #eight and skate #work to rule #tactics

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roseykat · 10 months

Text

TITLE: How they are when they eat you out

SUMMARY: OT8 blurb version of the title.

MASTERLIST

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

TAGS: mentions of orgasms, sex positions, again nothing too major.

TAGLIST: @xhakumeix

A/N: here is another spicy blurb/work of mine! Thank you everyone for engaging with my posts, messaging and following! I really appreciate y’all 😭💗 also side note again, I’ll spellcheck this when I get home!

BANG CHAN

Deliberately goes slow. He likes foreplay but also teasing you. Thrives off of feeling your legs shake around his head as he goes down on you. If you can’t handle the overbearing intensity of pleasure, he’ll snake his arms around your thighs, gripping and holding you there to ensure that you will take everything he gives you.

However, Chan is a firm reinforcer of edging and uses his mouth to achieve that. He’ll have you squirming and trembling every single time he brings you to the edge. Whenever you try and inch closer towards his tongue, he’ll pull away, leaving you frustrated and angry. But edging has a high purpose, and that’s to make you cum ten times harder than you usually would.

“I know how much you want to cum right now,” Chan says. “So lie back and let me get you there.”

MINHO

Eats pussy for sport and will make you cum as hard and as fast as possible and as many times as you’ll let him. He’ll tease when he wants but for the most part, he wants to watch you writhe and shake. Hearing you scream out his name is a phenomenon that he can never get over. Minho also likes eating you out in positions that will have you screaming and where you’re bound to cum - literally.

He will have your legs bent at your sides, tied up so you can’t move, and will eat you out for an hour or two, otherwise until you’re crying from how much pleasure you’re in. In those positions, there’s nowhere for you to go or move other than the surface of his hot tongue.

“Like cumming on my mouth don’t you?” Minho asks. “I’ll make you cum again, and again, and again - until you start to forget your name.”

CHANGBIN

Eats it like he means it. Will make you cum more than once with his mouth and won’t settle for anything less. He will have you in tears from how intense the orgasms are that he gives you. It’s a real contrast to how tender and nurturing he is when it comes to taking care of you afterwards. Nonetheless, Changbin will eat you out like it’s the last thing he’ll do.

He doesn’t stop unless you want him to. Sometimes you give him free rein which, in all honesty, is a terrible idea sometimes because Changbin will cease at nothing to make you cum so hard that you start seeing stars. What’s even better is because of his strength, it’s near to impossible to squirm away from his mouth, rendering you to cum hard regardless.

“Look how pretty you are when you cum,” Changbin sigh’s exasperatedly.

HYUNJIN

Is very attentive. Studies every reaction that he brings out of you as soon as his mouth is buried in between your legs. Hyunjin also has the tendency to overstimulate the shit out of you. Half of the time he doesn’t actually mean to. He just gets off on the change in pitch of your moans, how you sometimes go silent when you cum, or when you grip onto his hair as tight as you can.

His method of making you orgasm multiple times ensures that your legs will be shaking and your moans will fill the space around him. The only unfortunate thing for him when it comes to eating you out is that he can’t see your entire body, especially when you cum.

“You’re shaking baby,” Hyunjin points out. “Feels that good, huh?”

JISUNG

Is sloppy, but in the best way possible. He’s unfazed about how wet you are, how much of it gets on his face, if it’s on the bed, the floor, the kitchen counter - whatever. That’s applicable to every situation where he’s eating you out, even when Jisung feels lazy. In saying that, there are two sides to him, and he can go either way; he’ll either eat you out like he’s been deprived of it for months, or if he’s feeling lazy but still wants to go down on you, he’ll eat slowly.

If that’s the case, he will ask you to just sit on his face. It’s convenient for him to lie back and eat you out that way. Hell - he’ll even let you use his face to make yourself cum however many times you want. Jisung will say it so casually that it sometimes turns you on more. Despite him feeling lazy, that doesn’t mean to say that he isn’t into it - he is definitely into it.

“I’m horny as fuck,” Jisung says before smiling. “Sit on my face?”

FELIX

Going down on you is already a task that’s intimate enough as it is, but Felix’s entire aura seems to enhance that even further, to the point where you feel so good that it’s emotional. Almost every time - guaranteed - Felix will interlock his fingers with yours when his head is buried between your legs. He’ll kiss your inner thighs, softly on your clit, delicately sucking and licking to slowly build you up to a peak.

He analyses what you like so well that every time he goes down on you, he makes sure to follow that routine to achieve the same results if not better. It’s almost like one of his games to him, except the rewards are better in every aspect. Lix just wants to make sure you feel good.

“Can never get enough of you,” Felix says. “Wanna make you cum as much as you’ll let me.”

SEUNGMIN

Is a tease. Even during foreplay he’ll edge you with his mouth. He’ll never give you exactly what you want when you want it. If he’s going down on you, and you’re ready to cum, Seungmin will stop right before you start tipping over the edge just so he can fuck you in order to make you cum on his cock instead. Then again, if he feels generous, it’ll be his mouth that makes you cum, especially as a form of reward if you can go a day or two without being an absolute brat.

But that’s the side of Seungmin who likes to be dominant. There’s the other face of the coin where he can be very tender. In those instances when he is going down on you, expect to see a lot more affection from him. He won’t just focus solely on your clit, he’ll go slow, check in on you, and make you cum more than once because he’s also a gentleman.

“I’m the only one who can make you feel this good,” says Seungmin. “Nobody else can make you cum the way I do.”

JEONGIN

Knows exactly what he’s doing when it comes to eating you out. Jeongin chooses to go slow whenever he does because of how attentive he is. He wants to make sure that each second his face is buried in between your legs that your body feels good. Every now and then it’s a bit frustrating because all you want to do is just cum as quickly as you can, so as you squirm or grip his hair to try and make him go faster, that’s when he’ll decide to intentionally tease you and go slow.

He likes to hold around your thighs, gently squeezing them to hold you firm around his head. The struggles you have when it comes to putting up with his tongue is next level. He has the technique to make you cum in under a minute minimum. He’s unassuming but he’s just that good at it.

“Can feel your legs shaking,” Jeongin says. “I want to feel them shake even more.”

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee know smut #rosiewritesskz #hyunjin smut #han jisung smut #i.n x reader #i.n smut #bang chan smut #felix smut #seungmin smut #changbin smut #hyunjin x reader #bang chan x reader #felix x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #han jisung x reader

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ellecdc · 3 months

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can i request a reader x poly!marauders where the reader finds a stray kitten and she hides in her robes so she can feed it in morning and just carries it around school.

it’s the boys vs a kitten for reader’s attention, especially sirius sometimes he’s talking smack to the kitten who’s a asleep and then reader catches him and scolds him for it

loolllll poor Siri. Thanks for your request!

Sirius' Arch Nemesis

poly!marauders x fem!reader

CW: brief mention of Sirius' crappy childhood but very brief and it's only for dramatic effect (it's from Sirius' POV, obviously)

Some may deem this dramatic, but Sirius was very sure that this was quite possibly one of the worst things to have ever happened to him.

“Now, that’s a little dramatic, Pads.” Peter chided, watching you coo at a little bundle hidden beneath your robes as you fed it pieces of chicken at dinner.

“She used to feed me chicken like that.” Sirius pouted, causing Remus to snort.

“She’s never once fed you like that, Pads.”

“Awe, poor Siri.” James cooed, sounding awfully sympathetic to his musings; at least Sirius had one ally here. “Would you like me to feed you chicken like that?”

Sirius gave James his best kicked puppy impression (which was very easy seeing as he was a giant puppy and had spent his entire life training for it) and nodded. “Yes please, Jamie.”

James cooed again and pressed a kiss to Sirius’ cheek before dutifully stabbing a piece of chicken and bringing it to Sirius’ mouth.

“Merlin you guys are embarrassing.” Remus muttered as he turned back to watch you dote over the runty little kitten that you’d found in Hogsmeade last weekend all on its lonesome.

“You should leave it here, dovey. His mama may be looking for him.” Remus tried, though he couldn’t deny that the kitten did look particularly pathetic. The tiny thing was shaking, crying, and looked sort of wet or dirty - Remus may not know much but he was quite certain no kitty mama would let their little one walk around in such a state.

Remus nearly whimpered when you turned your face up to the three boys standing over you with tears in your eyes, your face overflowing with empathy. “Can we wait here then? To see if the mama comes back for him?”

Remus ignored the petulant whining’s from Sirius as he sat himself down beside you in camaraderie with nothing more than a sigh. How could he say no to such a reasonable albeit emotional request?

“Jamie?” You murmured, and Remus wasn’t sure how much of the pout was honest and how much of it was to gain sympathy for your cause, but James was quickly at your side.

“Yes, angel?”

“Do you think you could ask Madame Rosmerta for some water? Maybe tuna if she has some?”

James looked like he really didn’t want to do that but also felt he was in no position to deny you.

“Sure thing, sweetheart.” He conceded, pressing a kiss to your hair and causing Sirius to grumble.

“Why don’t you come with me, Pads? Once we bring it back we can head to Zonko's whist these two wait.” James offered, causing Sirius to brighten up considerably.

Needless to say, the mama cat never did show up and the kitten let out a number of pathetic little sneezes from its curled-up place in your lap.

“It’s getting dark, dove. Curfew is soon.” Remus reminded you gently.

“I can’t leave it here, Rem.” You moaned, still never raising your eyes from the kitten as it kneaded biscuits into your robes.

And Remus really hated to admit it, but he didn’t think you could leave it here either.

So, thanks to your bleeding heart and Remus’ lack of self-restraint when it came to anything you ever wanted, Sirius was effectively being replaced by a tiny little devil.

“I don’t know why you’re so wound up about this Black.” Marlene taunted from her place in her girlfriend’s lap as said girlfriend massaged her scalp on the couch of the Gryffindor common room. “It’s just a tiny kitten.”

“'Just a tiny kitten'.” Sirius sneered back at his best friend. “Right, so tell me, Miss. ‘My-Girlfriend-Is-Currently-Snuggling-And-Petting-Me-Right-At-This-Very-Moment’, what do you see my girlfriend doing right now?”

Marlene barely maneuvered her head from Dorcas’ lap to see you curled up near the fire with a book in your hand and that stupid kitten in your lap.

“She’s reading to her cat?” Dorcas responded bemusedly, clearly not seeing what the big deal is.

“Exactly!” Sirius huffed. “That should be me.”

“Oh, my gods.” Marlene grumbled as she stood from her place, grabbing Dorcas’ hand to pull her up too. “Can we go snuggle in the snake pit? I can’t handle Sirius’ level of dramatics tonight.”

“Some friend you are!” Sirius shouted at Marlene’s retreating form as the portrait hole closed behind them.

James and Remus were currently at a prefect’s meeting with James being head-boy and Remus as (the head-boy’s favourite) prefect.

Usually, you and Sirius would spend this time together just the two of you, which was hard to come by sometimes in such a relationship as yours. One-time you guys went and used the bath in the prefect’s bathroom knowing that all the prefects would be busy for the next hour and having gained the password from your boyfriends’. Another time, you two fashioned your own prank without the help of the other Marauder’s and even got away with it!

But right now, Sirius just wanted to cuddle.

But that was fine! If it was animals you wanted to cuddle with, Sirius was more than happy to oblige.

With a quick glance to ensure that the common room was empty, Sirius quickly shifted into Padfoot and made his way over to you.

Padfoot was feeling pretty confident in his plan, that is until he heard a nasty little sound emanating from your lap.

“Sirius!” You scolded, picking up the now very spiky and angry looking kitten from your lap. “You’re scaring him, Pads!” You cooed, tucking the kitten into the collar of your jumper.

The portrait hole opened at this and James and Remus entered the room hand-in-hand, laughing about something before turning to take in the scene.

“Uh oh...” James started, making his way over to the two three of you currently sitting near the fire. “Did Padfoot try to eat the kitten?”

Padfoot harumphed the best he could in his current doggy form. Is good dog, he thought, would not eat...only maim.

“The kitten is frightened.” You pouted, looking to James for sympathy. James looked like he was considering giving it to you, but Remus spoke up as he scratched placatingly behind Padfoot’s ears.

“Perhaps you should bring him upstairs, dovey. Give him some quiet time.”

You readily agreed, much to Padfoot’s chagrin, and left the common room. Now you’d be all the way up there and he’d definitely not get any cuddles.

“Okay, is anyone else sort of jealous of the cat?” James finally muttered plainly once he knew you were out of ear shot.

Yes, Padfoot thought as he quickly shifted back to Sirius. “Yes! It’s like she’s replacing us!”

Remus scoffed at that. “No one is being replaced, boys. Just relax.”

Sirius levelled his boyfriend with a glare. “Yeah? When’s the last time she read to you by the fire, Moons?”

Remus paused and seemed to think on that for a moment before his eyes darted back to Sirius. “I still think you’re being dramatic.”

“It’s been since the kitten, hasn’t it Remus?” Sirius argued, not willing to let it go.

“Sirius, she’s allowed to love things other than us.”

Both Sirius and James scoffed at that. “I think bloody not!” James retorted.

“I can concede if she likes other things, but she cannot love anything more than me! She needs to love me the most!” Sirius insisted, causing both of his boyfriends to look at him funny.

“Oh?” James asked with a bemused frown.

“Is that how it is, really? You think she loves you the most out of all of us?” Remus continued.

Sirius levelled them with a look he hoped portrayed a “yeah, duh”.

“Is that how this relationship works for you Sirius? Which of us do you love the most?” James demanded, crossing his arms in that way Sirius loves because it makes his muscles bulge.

“Me, obviously.” He answered simply.

“You’re your own favourite?” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius shrugged. “Yeah, I’m awesome.”

“You’re not supposed to have favourites!” James whined.

“You’re telling me you’ve never been like ‘oh merlin, right now Moony is my favourite’?” Sirius asked him.

James scoffed indignantly. “Right now, he very well might be!”

Instead of having the effect he hoped that comment would on Sirius, Sirius nodded in agreement. “See? Favourites.”

“You’re an idiot.” Remus grumbled as he stood and made his way upstairs.

“Do you really have favourites?” James asked quietly once Remus had left, his voice giving way to a vulnerability that made Sirius melt.

“Not a chance, bubs.” Sirius insisted, placing a kiss to James’ temple as he pulled the spectacled boy into his side. “I just like arguing with Moony; he makes it so easy to take the piss.”

James chuckled and allowed some tension to leave his body.

“No, but seriously, what are we going to do about that kitten?” James piped up and pulled away so he could look into Sirius’ face.

“I suppose my current plan of feeding it to the Hippogriffs is a no?” Sirius asked. He was answered by an unamused glare from James.

“Fine. Fine. Hopefully the novelty will wear off soon.” Sirius conceded. For as much shit as he gave you, he did sort of love how much you loved anything and everything that might be in need of some; himself included.

James and Sirius watched the flames dance in the fireplace for some time, just enjoying the quiet company that the two of them very rarely shared together.

“Why don't we go see what those two are up to, hm?” James asked eventually, helping Sirius up from his position on the floor and heading up the stairs towards the boy's dorm.

The room was quiet as they entered and when Sirius turned after closing the door to survey the room, he let out a horrified gasp.

“How in the buggering hell did he manage that!?” He whisper shouted, pointing to Remus laying on his bed with you pulled into his side, nuzzled into the crook of his arm.

As James moved to survey the two of you from another side, his face morphed into a pained grimace. “Pads, maybe it’s best we-”

But it was too late, Sirius had seen all he needed to see.

“You bloody traitor!” He nearly shrieked, albeit not loud enough to stir you nor the stupid fucking kitten currently curled up in a very content ball on Remus’ chest from your respective slumber’s.

If Remus had been pretending to sleep, his ruse was given away by a smug smirk gracing his face.

“Better luck next time, Sirius.” He goaded, rubbing a soothing hand up and down your arm as you burrowed further into the werewolf’s side.

Sirius had been beaten, crucio’d, starved, disowned and homeless in his eighteen years of life. But this right here was without a doubt the worst thing to have ever happened to him.

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byuntrash101 · 3 months

Text

behind the mask

f!reader x yunho smut | mdni 2.7k it's halloween night and your sweet golden retriever boyfriend wants to have a little harmless fun link + nsfw tags under the cut

#17: mask kink + outdoor + primal play (twt p☆rnlink) sweet bf!yunho, also ghostface!yunho, also big cock!yunho, knife play (not cutting skin only clothes, no blood), fear play (chasing through the woods + threats), degradation (slut, whore), outdoor/semi public setting (a deserted park at night), nipple play, spanking, backshots, unprotected sex ("im not angry, im disappointed"), creampie, implied aftercare (because when the mask's off he's your sweet lovey dovey bf ♡)

a/n: im back again on my bs. did you miss me? enjoy <3

3k celebration masterlist | ateez masterlist | navigation

Halloween was your favorite holiday. There was something so fun in everyone dressing up and acting silly for a night. Every year you volunteered to take the kids of your small town trick or treating. You always liked bringing them fun memories. And halloween was just that much more fun when you looked at it through the eyes of a kid.

This year wasn’t any different. Only this time your boyfriend tagged along with you. Which was a blessing in itself because the group of children was going to be more manageable with another set of hands on deck and another pair of vigilant eyes.

You adjusted the red hood over your head and pulled on the thigh high tights to bring them as high as possible, concealing the lace under your knee length skirt. It wasn’t freezing cold outside but still pretty chilly as the night was falling over the small town.

“Thank you for helping me,” you said to your boyfriend as you hoped in his car and headed to the local school where the parents had gathered the small group of children to take out trick or treating.

“No worries;” Yunho said, smiling in your direction as he pulled into the parking lot. “Sorry for the costume. I only had time to pick up that mask” He pulled out the ghost face mask from the backseat. And pointed at the rest of the ensemble that consisted of a black hoodie with a black leather jacket thrown over it and a pair of ripped jeans. “That’s all I got” he said scratching the back of his neck, his lips pulling into an adorable, reserved smile.

“Oh no problem!” you said hurriedly, throwing your back pack on your shoulder, the modern item contrasted greatly with the medieval red riding hood costume. “Sorry it was on such short notice” And Yunho took your hand before you had the chance to open the car door.

“I’m just glad to spend time with you, really” he smiled at you adorably, his eyes turning into crescents. Even though you’d only been dating for a few months you felt very comfortable with him. Mainly because he was very sweet and gentle. So much so that initially you thought it was all an act to get into your pants, given how good looking Yunho was you knew he surely didn't have to do all of this “white knight in shining armor act” to get sexual attention. Unfortunately you fell for the lies and deceptions of others before and ended up getting ghosted after a night of at best mediocre sex. But Yunho was different. He never pressured you into anything and then when you finally caved into your desire for him… well it was gentle. He paid attention to your cues, made sure you enjoyed yourself and he made you feel safe, loved and good, very good.

“Don’t you think it’ll scare the kids though?” he said, placing the mask over his handsome face.

“Scare them?” you laughed out loud as Yunho’s features dropped in confusion. “You’re so not ready for the little monsters” you laughed. “Let’s go” you said before opening the door.

You smiled and slipped the mask off before stepping out of the car. Yunho watched you being greeted by the kids. They were all jumping around in excitement, gathering around you like evil little minions of the night. The scene warmed Yunho’s heart as he smiled behind the mask.

“Mister! Mister! Your mask is very cool” a little boy with green face paint and stuffed leaves cosplaying as Hulk pointed at Yunho.

“Wooow scary~” a small girl with a peppa pig dress stomped her little feet and laughed, barely able to contain her excitement.

“Yes kids, that’s Yunho. He will come with us this year” Yunho took the mask off, ruffling his dark hair before smiling widely at the children.

“Hi kids” he waved.

“Oh” the small peppa pig girl let her words trail off. “Are you y/n’s boyfriend?” she asked very directly. Which made Yunho chuckle and her blush looking in awe at him.

“Yes. I’m the boyfriend” he said, half laughing. The girl then turned to you. “Does he have a little brother?” she asked as quietly as possible and you also laughed. “How about we ask him later, huh?” you whispered to her and she nodded timidly, throwing another curious glance at the handsome stranger.

The parents waved goodbye to the children and left. Probably excited to spend a night in peace.

As the round of houses went by, the children’s bags became filled with candies and chocolate bars and of course the occasional apple from the more concerned parents.

Yunho was a great helper. He settled arguments when kids thought the distribution of candies was unfair, he encouraged the ones that were scared to walk past a particularly convincing automated witch stirring her cauldron and he was just a joy to have a round. Even under the mask you could hear the smile that was spreading on his angelic face from ear to ear, contrasting greatly with the spooky mask.

As the night progressed you dropped off the kids one by one to their house and soon enough the last kid left and you and Yunho walked back to the car.

“Thank you for tonight, it was great” you said as you walked past the deserted park. You turned to him and smiled. “I really owe you one”.

Yunho pressed your body against yours, startling you a little. He slipped the mask off, he was slightly disheveled after wearing it all night.

“Maybe there’s something you could do” he said, smirking, and you tilted your head in interest. “What about we play a little?”

His demeanor had suddenly changed. But his dark serious eyes stirred something within you. You would lie if you said you hadn’t been fighting a kind of dark desire that sparked within you when Yunho first slipped on the mask but you kept the curious feeling at bay for the whole evening only to let it resurface now.

“You know,” he started his eyes falling from your eyes to your lips. “I've noticed the way you look at me when I wear the thing.” He dangled the mask next to your face. And you pinched your lips between your teeth to hold a gasp. Were you this obvious?

“Wouldn’t it be fun to play a little game? How about a little chase through the park?” he chuckled when he saw your eyes grow twice as big. “If you escape me you win. But if I catch you… well it’s not fun if there’s no surprise” the ominous statement made you whimper quietly as instinctively pressed your thighs together. “I’ll even give you a headstart” he smirked as he slipped the mask back on.

He let go of your waist so abruptly that you almost stumbled back but found your balance in time.

“Go ahead, little one.” Yunho said as he grabbed a kitchen knife from the backpack. “Start running” the laugh that escaped his lips was the furthest thing away from the usual warm laughter you were used to. It was cold and threatening. It made your stomach churn and not only in fear.

Without thinking you ran into the park and engulfed yourself in the dark woods, adrenaline coursed through your veins and you left the path to venture deeper into the woods. As you were running and jumping over the branches and roots of the trees that were sticking out of the dirt you heard the maniacal laugh come closer.

Out of breath and panicked you decided to hide behind the thick trunk of an old oak to catch a small break and hopefully to escape the bloodthirsty man on your track.

“Where are you?~” Yunho singsang. You laid a hand over your mouth to hopefully steady your breathing. He was close. “You know there’s no point in hiding, little one,” Yunho said, his breath itching in his throat. “You know… I will… find you!” he said, suddenly circling the tree trunk, the big terrifying mask shoved in your face. You couldn’t even scream, you only started to run full speed, Yunho following you closely, knife in hand.

But your skirt got caught on a thorn and slowed you down before you could accelerate again, completely ripping the piece of fabric, leaving you in a torn miniskirt barely concealing your ass.

But that misadventure was your doom. Yunho was able to catch up to you. He caught your arm with his big and cold hand, gripping so tight it was bruising your delicate skin and pushed your back against a tree.

“Gotcha~” he said, even if you couldn’t see you could distinctly hear the predatory grin behind the disfigured mask. “I win”

“Please” you whimpered, your heart thumping in your ears. You didn’t really know what you were pleading for but when you felt your boyfriend’s hard on pressed onto your hip, you realized you were begging for him to take you. To claim you right here in the cold winter night in the middle of the woods. Like a wolf finally sinking his teeth into the delicious and tender flesh on a fawn.

“Look at you little one” Yunho was growling, his threatening tone was stirring more arousal in the pit of your guts. “All nice and ripe for me to pluck,” he said, bringing the cold blade of the knife to your cheek, pressing the flat surface onto your hot skin, making you shiver.

With his other hand he ripped the red hood off you and harshly pulled on your buttoned blouse popping just enough buttons to see your black lace bra.

“Little one wore lace for me tonight” he slipped the tip of the blade between your breast and under the article of clothing and cut it clean off, earning a frightened gasp from you. The cold air blew on your bare skin making your nipples harden into tight buds. “Much better” Yunho sighed, groping your chest with his cold hand and pinching your pebbled nipples between his long fingers, you moaned from the stimulation, more arousal pulling in your underwear. He flicked and pinched and circled the hard nubs until you were a whimpering mess, each moan you let out becoming visible fog in the chilly open air.

Yunho kept on rubbing his hard cock onto your hip, humping you slowly but purposefully grinding onto your soft side, groaning with each movement until he’s had enough of those games.

He pushed you to a boulder covered in moss and bent you down until both your hands laid flat on the cold stone and your ass was sticking up in the air. Yunho landed a sharp slap before putting the knife to good use again. He slipped it under your underwear, you felt the cold metal of the flat of the blade run against your throbbing hot and drooling little pussy, making you moan at the contact, fighting the urge to grind your greedily little cunt against it.

With a precise movement Yunho cut the undergarment letting your glistening cunt shine under the moonlight, the article was now only pathetic hanging by your waist.

“Fuck you’re already so wet, bunny” he breathed out, swiping one finger along your drenched folds.

“Please fuck me Yun-” you cut yourself. “Please ghostface fuck me”

You felt Yunho’s cock throb against your ass at your words.

“What an eager little slut” he said before bending down next to you and stabbing the knife in a tree stump next to you. “I’ll give you what you want”

A second later you felt his two big hands slap against your bare ass before his hot tip glided against your folds. Responding on instinct your back arched deeper and you pressed your ass against him, urging him to fill you up.

Without more prepping he slid his thick cock into you to the last inch in one swift move making you moan loudly, your eyes shutting tightly.

“Oh ffuckkk” you moaned in the cold night.

“Fuck. So wet and tight for me, bunny.” Yunho said, taking a bruising grip around your waist. “Your slutty cunt is already throbbing around me. You liked it that much when I chased you around?”

“Please” is the only word you could process through your foggy thoughts. You only wanted more of him.

“Who knew the cute little one liked to be preyed on?” He drew out of you only the slam back right in.

“God fuck- yes” you screamed at the sudden surge of pleasure.

Yunho settled a deadly rhythm, smashing himself between your hips, your wall gripping his fat cock tearing you apart every time it pulled out and welcoming it back in everytime he pushed in. Making your mind fuzzy, your ears seemed stuffed with cotton as you could no longer concentrate on the animalistic grunts Yunho was letting loose into the night and only on the way his enormous cock felt inside you.

He continued to screw his cock deep into you on this unbelievable rhythm. His hand left your waist to toy with your nipples again, cupping your breast and teasing your hard nipples, rolling them in his fingers until you couldn’t stand anymore, your legs threatening to give out at any point under the crushing weight of your oncoming orgasm.

“Fuck m’ gonna” you started.

“Not yet, whore” Yunho said, slapping your ass once more and abruptly pulling his cock out. You whined, your high was fading away as it was within grasp a second ago.

Yunho grabbed the knife again and put the sharp side on the skin of your neck, not pressing enough to breach the skin but enough to be threatening to do so. He shoved his cock back in.

“You better work for it. Wanna cum? Help yourself.” He laughed again. “Bounce on my cock like a good little slut”.

Your cunt clenched at his word, making him gasp sharply. You don't need to be told twice. Without thinking, your mind completely drunk on the idea of chasing your high you started to back up against his cock and grind his cock into you. Smashing your ass back and filling the night with the sound of his grunts and skin clashing.

“Fuckkkk. That's my good little whore. Keep going… m’close” Yunho praised.

“Yes please cum.” You pleaded out of breath. “Please fill my tight little whore cunt with your cum”

Such foul words dripping from your innocent lips had Yunho crossing the edge right that second. Thick white ropes of cum spurted out his huge cock that was throbbing inside you. The warmth pooling inside you took right along with him, your walls gripping around him and fluttering as you arched your back to somehow push him even deeper inside you, his hand digging into your skin while the other one gripped the handle of the knife still pressed to your skin.

You both stayed right there for a hot minute, his cock deeply sheathed inside you while you caught your breath before he finally slipped out letting the unbelievable amount of cum run down your weakened and shaking thighs.

Yunho slipped off the mask and helped you stand up, interlacing his arms around your waist and surrounding you in his warmth. He was back to his usual self.

“Happy Halloween baby” he said, smiling fondly at you. You chuckled.

“I didn’t know you were into such things” you said, hitting his chest playfully. He gasped with exaggerated shock.

“I didn’t know you were into such things!” he said, hugging you tightly, trying to shield you from the cold winter breeze.

He drew back a little to look at you, your hair was ruined, your mascara was smudged, your ripped skirt was barely covering you and cum was coating your inner thighs. You were so beautifully ruined for him. You looked perfect. He couldn't help his heart swelling with unconditional love for you.

“Here” he took off his leather jacket and tied it around your hips. “Let’s head back”

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#yunho smut #ateez smut #yunho #ateez yunho #yunho hard thoughts #yunho hard hours #ateez hard hours #ateez #ateez hard thoughts #yunho fanfic #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #atz #ateez fanfic #ateez fic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #kpop smut

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winterarmyy · 11 months

Text

Welcome Home... Soldat? | Part II

That time when Bucky accidentally relapsed into the Winter Soldier.

Navigation: Part I || Part II* || Part III (end) || Extra

Words: 4.2k++ (of fluff and filth)

Pairing: winter soldier!bucky x female!reader

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, no minors allowed, nsfw, dub con, fingering, pussyjob, thighjob, soldat being manipulative yet maintains to be so loving at the same time, another round of google translated russian, filthy praises, soldat just want to make you feel good, wet & messy everywhere, loud & whiny soldat, and at the end of the day, despite the manipulation, the soldat just want take care of you.

A/N: omfg 1k++ notes from the previous chapter?! i didn't think this would get so much attention that it had, tbh. Like wtf. What did I do to deserve this 😭 Thank you so much for your support! I can't even begin to tell you guys how much joy y'all bring me. So, I decided write more of our soft soldat for all of us cause let's be honest, we need him so bad. It's gonna be 3 part mini series. I hope you enjoy!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

The darkness in his sight seemed permenant, at least until it transitioned into a dim-litted scenery. He recognized softness of the bed, and the blank white color of the ceiling.

He was in his room.

But, when he realized the emptiness of his bed, it was as if a force jolted through his body, yanking his lying figure into a sitting position. The dead silent was broken by the sound of his gasping breaths, followed closely by the beats of his pounding heart.

"Родная (darling)?" His voice shivered in his shaky breath.

When the silent replied his call, cold sweat drenched the roots of his hair. He almost jumped into a defensive position when the door of the walk-in wardrobe seemingly opened on its own.

But to his relief, her voice broke the silence, "Soldat?" Y/N peeped out her head when she heard his voice but the moment she saw the panic in his blue eyes, she quickly made her way towards him.

As soon as she was standing near enough, the soldat pulled her into a crushing hug, rubbing his face into her stomach a relief washed over him. Y/N ran her hands through his hair as she coaxed, "I'm here, I'm here."

He hummed in reply, "You're here." He repeated as a sigh escaped his lips.

Y/N didn't know why she expected that Bucky would be back after their "sleepover" but it was a shock for her when she woke up that morning with several tender kisses on her face by the soldat, who was very much still present.

"So, you're saying he's is not the winter soldier?" Sam cocked his head to the side as he tried to wrap up the overwhelming information thrown by Shuri.

The woman rolled her eyes, "No, I didn't say that. I said, he is not fully relapsed into the winter soldier." She reclarified.

"How was this possible? I thought he was gone?" Y/N asked as her worried gaze glanced over Bucky's unmoving figure in the examination pod.

Shuri sighed as she approached her, they watched Bucky's peaceful features resting through the glass, "We only remove the trigger that were attached to a switch to activating the winter soldier from Bucky; the soldat was never gone."

Y/N's eyebrows creased as the wakandan continued to explain, "It's like removing the toggle from a light switch; you can't turn it on just like that. But if, let say we use a toothpick to poke through the hole and trigger the switch, then..."

Steve intercepted her words before she could finish, "...then it'll be turned on." The woman nodded, "Precisely."

"That does not explain why Bucky is partially... not himself." Tony quickly probed as he casually threw a red M&M's into his mouth.

Steve paced back and forth in the room as he tried to replay the day of the incident, "Maybe it has to do something in that Hydra base that we raided. Bucky did look troubled on the jet home, then when we arrived he suddenly went berserk, looking for something; well... someone". He stopped as he threw a knowing look to Y/N.

"Yeah, why he is suddenly acting lovey dovey with y/n if the soldier was triggered? I don't get it." Sam crossed his arms against his chest as he questioned.

A smile almost cracked on Shuri's lips when they mentioned that, "This is just a hypothesis; but I reckoned that Bucky knew that the soldier is slowly taking over his mind and he didn't want to let himself vulnerable, exposed for people to give him orders."

Shuri leaned her back towards the table as she continued, "So instead, he latched himself on something else, to act as his mission. Some kind of desire that's buried as deep as where his winter soldier persona was concealed."

"So, you're saying that grumpy old man's deepest, darkest desire is to suffocate y/n with kisses and cuddles?" Tony quirked his eyebrow as he chewed on the sweet chocolate snack; there was certainly sarcasm in his voice.

Y/N intictively took the nearest object within her reach, which turns out to be a thick manual book, and struck Tony on his arms. The man repulsed with a confused frown on his forehead, mouthing a soundless, "What?"

Y/N mouthed back, "Shut up!" while Sam chuckled amusingly at the silent banter between them.

Ignoring the back and forth between Y/N and Tony, Shuri answered, "Well, those urges are derived by a certain key emotion, which I'm sure put you that genius title of yours into a good use, then you should've known the answer already."

"Love." Steve's revelation cuts through before Tony could throw his banter at Shuri, "He loves y/n." He repeated his words as if all of this made absolute sense.

Which only made Y/N stop on her tracks, "He loves me?" she questioned herself but everyone in the lab can practically see the confusion on her face.

Shuri agreed to Steve's deduction, "Yes, perhaps. I supposed that is why he is protective over her and like he said, wanted to suffocate her with kisses and cuddles." Shuri pointed at Tony as she return his sarcasm.

"Wait wait wait." Y/N held her hands forward as she stepped in the middle of the conversation, "Why are we casually agreeing to that as if it's normal? I mean, I know I'm not a genius but that is absolutely ridiculous. Bucky doesn't love me, as a friend maybe, yeah, but not like that." She couldn't help but to blush as she recalled the way the soldat hands and lips mapped on her skin.

"Yes, you are absolutely not a genius, especially when you are one of the two idiots who's in love with each other." Tony casually laid out the fact as everybody in the lab nodded in agreement, including Steve who she thought would back her up.

Y/N shook her head in denial and revert the conversation back to its original destination, "So, how do we get Bucky back?"

Shuri opened the terminal screen as she watched the progress of her observation, "Well, we're still figuring that out." Y/N's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"But what I can say is, it is best to let him stick with y/n for now." Shuri concluded.

They took the whole day running tests on the soldat, which he obediently cooperate as long as Y/N was there to hold his hand.

Between resting for breakfast, lunch and snack break; the soldat spend his time to be forced to put to sleep and out of it through out the day.

Right after dinner, and the final test run, he was just left to sleep off the rest of the night and Y/N finally had time to prep herself to sleep, when she heard Bucky's voice from the bed.

"Just finished showering. Hope you don't mind me wearing your shirt, they kinda lock me in here." Y/N frowned when she thought back on how the team managed to bring most of her things over but then forgot to pack her signature iron man pyjamas.

A fond smile curved on the soldat's lips as his gaze raked over her small body wrapped in his baggy shirt, which fell right at the middle of her naked thighs.

Y/N swore that there saw a flash of Bucky in his gleaming eyes. Or maybe she was just being delusional at this point.

She let him pulled her by the hand as he slowly brought her towards him. In no time, he had them both on the comfy matteress with soldat's back propped up against the headboard, while his arms found their place around Y/N's waist, cocooning her in between his legs.

It amazes her to think how comfortable she was, being this intimately close to him; when Bucky would've been too cautious to even approach her platonically.

So she decided rather than being constantly hesitant around the soldat, she thought that she might as well just enjoy the moment as it presented itself.

Y/N's exploring eyes stopped to the side of the bed when she saw a book next to the night lamp. She reached her hand as she leaned closer.

"Prince Caspian." She whispered to herself as her fingertips grazed across the title, "The Chronicles of Narnia, huh?"

It makes sense that Bucky would be interested to read this series, knowing his quirky yet undying brag about having the experience of reading The Hobbit back when it first came out.

Y/N couldn't help but to smile to herself, especially when her train of thoughts stopped at those memories of him.

She lifted the book towards the soldat, "What do you think, Soldat? Want me to read it to you?" She asked as the soldat rested his chin on her shoulder, peering at the deep blue, hard covered book.

He briefly hummed before replying, "Yes, please." The soldat loved the idea of being able to hear more of his darling's beautiful voice. It was his favourite thing in the whole world. Well, one of the things but surely all them were involving her.

Y/N settled herself as she leaned back against his sturdy chest. One of her legs were bent up towards her chest while the other was lazily thrown over his, spreading them as far as they could go.

The soldat placed light kisses on the back of her head all the way to the side of her neck, relishing at how soft her skin was and how good she smelled. The quiet of the room only enhanced the presence of her calming voice, luring him to close his eyes as he drowned himself the melody of it.

Minutes gone by and it was passing the half hour mark.

It wasn't that the soldat find the story boring or her voice drowsying, but he was feeling rather needy, almost greedy, to have more of Y/N to the point that he got slightly distracted.

She had been such a darling to him ever since he came home; fed him, letting him touch her, kiss her, pamper her, held her hand during those long lab tests, having her in his arms through the night and against his nightmare, and making him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

And yet, she didn't get anything in return.

His darling deserved to feel good and he wanted to give it to her so badly that he was getting distracted from the story that she was passionately reading for him.

Soldat's hands carefully explored her body, from the side of her waist then slowly down to her naked thighs. Too engrossed with the plot, she almost instinctively opened her legs wider for him. Though she never intended to do so, her actions surely were quite sinful.

He used the opportunity to glide his metal hand deeper into her inner thighs, lightly caressing up higher towards where her thighs meet, until the tip of it brushed over her core.

Now that's when she realized the situation, her head shoot up to face him. The book in her hand almost thrown to the side as she reached to grab his, gripping it tightly as she tried to pull him away.

Failing to stop him, she whispered "W-what are you doing?" She stuttered as she felt his fingers slide across her clothed pussy.

Soldat looked down at the smaller, "Wanna make you feel good, мое Родная (my darling)" he innocently whispered back as his dangerous fingers provoked her.

When her silence remained, the soldat lifted the corner of his eyebrow in curiosity. Was she hesitating? He sees it as an opportunity to coax her to his will.

He cooed softly when he explained, "You deserve it, darling. Deserve it so much. Please, let me?" He sounded so desperate when he begs like that.

It feels like her whole body was burning, his touch were igniting flames wherever he drags his fingers. She knew it was wrong to feel like this, but she couldn't help it.

Oh, how his fingers works wonders even with the thin fabric were blocking his access.

Y/N bit her lower lip as she looked down to her thighs. The way she was grabbing onto his hands as he moved around; it looked like she was guiding him to touch her more.

The soldat knew she was close to be tempted to submit, "I promise it'll feel good. So good." he almost growled in her ears as he saw patch of the dampness started to appear on the center her panties.

"Don't." she whispered quietly, but that only made the soldat to futher seduce her as he add more pressure on his middle finger.

She hesitated for a while before she slurred "D-don't stop." her head thrown back into his neck, finally giving in to his promise of pleasure.

Lust took over the soldat, "Gonna make you feel so good, Родная (darling). Promise gonna treat your pretty pussy right. Make her cum so hard." He whispered lovingly as his breath sends shivers down her spine.

The soldat groaned, dropping his head to her neck to press open mouthed kisses on her untainted skin as he slipped his hand into her panties.

"Already wet for me?" He chuckled, biting his lip before his long finger slid between her folds.

"Hmmm." she tried to suppressed her voice as his finger moved up and down so deliciously.

"Of course," He said with a smile. He went on to tease her sensitive clit with slow, torturous circles, which force her to close her eyes, biting down on her lip to suppress a shrill moan.

"Родная (darling)," the soldat cooed. "You can scream as loud as you want. Let me hear those pretty noises, yeah?"

Y/N thought to reply but her own breath hitches when that one finger that has been circling her hole finally dips in, proceeding to spread her open for more.

She moaned louder this time, "Soldat..." The movement was completely involuntary; when her hand latch on to hold his wrist as her thighs try to squeeze shut at the feeling of him pressing another finger into her wet stretching cunt.

But, of course he was quick to spread her legs back open, preventing her to shy away.

"p-please soldat, ahh." She mewled, scratching the metal of his arm.

The soldat nibbled on the shape of her ears as he hushed, "There, there darling. Open up for me." His two long, metal fingers thrusts and rubs the inside of her pulsating pussy, occasionally scissoring her cunt as he took her right hand into his fleshed one; intertwining her fingers with his.

Her other hand scrambled to dug into his thigh as she arched her back, grinding her hips down against his metal hand. The soldat smirked proudly at her reaction, moving his fingers a little faster, a little rougher. Just enough to make her whine and move against him in search of more stimulation.

She cried out as his thumb circled her clit, "Ahhh fuck" she moaned shamelessly, while his eyes followed each jerk of her body as if he was memorizing it all.

"Hmm, you're so wet, Родная (darling). So warm too." The soldat hissed as he felt his hand were soaking by the minute. The muffled sound of his thrusts against her wet heat filled the room.

He looked down to her hidden pussy; his hand covered by the panties she was wearing, "Look down baby, open your eyes and look down." he lured her with low groan.

Completely loss in bliss, she complied without asking any question. Both the soldat and Y/N was looking at the same sight, the same shape of his hand clinging tight to the fabric, barely hidden under the thin layer of her panties, moving up and down; in and out of her pussy.

Somehow, watching the way it moves made her closer to her orgasm.

In one swift move, the soldat lifted her slightly to pull the barrier off by the waistband. An animalistic groan rumbled from deep within his chest, when he was completely revealed to the sinful sight of her naked pussy.

So wet and full with his fingers.

The soldat teasingly entered a third finger into her, stretching her out so good that she felt tears prick her eyes. Y/N's head snapped forward along with a buck of her hips. "S-soldat,, ahhhh" Her whines grew louder than before and she felt the flame in her stomach growing yet it wasn’t enough.

"Look at you. Look how well you're taking me. My darling is such a good girl, isn't she?" The soldat sounds sickeningly sweet when he murmured in her ears.

He pressed his thumb harder against her swollen clit, rubbing hard and fast circles as he pumped his fingers knuckle deep in and out of her cunt, causing her to gasp from the sensation.

He twisted and curled his fingers around to find that delicious spot inside of her, giving that delicious friction as he fucked her open. The noises coming from her pussy were so lewd, so crude and it only spurred him on.

"Sounds so perfect, Родная (darling). These pretty noises from your lips up here." The soldat murmured as he kissed the corner of her lips, "and down here." his fingers pumped faster, curling over and over again, creating the lewd squelching sounds of her juices leaking out.

Almost seeing stars, Y/N moaned desperately, "Cummin',, so good, 'm cumming." Oh, how sweet does her moans sounded in the soldat's ears.

"Already, Родная (darling)?" he groaned as he felt her hole pulsated, "But you need more, little one." He persuaded her edge a little more; but with the way he was fucking into her weeping pussy, she certainly wasn't able handle it anymore.

She whined needily as she shook her head, "Wanna cum now, please soldat ohh god please please please." She begged deliriously.

The soldat hummed as he worked his fingers up her hole, "Oh darling, you don't need to beg for it. You're so precious, I'd give you anything." He mumbled against her cheek as he kisses her, "Now, cum for me. Let me see you wet my bed, Родная (darling). Go on, cum."

All words die in the back of her throat when a he cooed at her. She threw her head back as a squeak of whine dies in her mouth; eyes squeezing shut, her body tensing as the soldat makes sure that she rides out the high for as long as she should.

"That's it darling, cum for your soldat. give it to me,, aahhh" He motioned, forming an 'O' with his mouth as she clamp down on his fingers; with his wide eyes looking down at her exposed pussy. Her orgasm gushed and flowed out onto his hand, dripping on the sheet as she quietly cry out in pleasure.

"So pretty," he praised, as his fingers kept pumping slowly in and out of her pussy, "So gorgeous, cumming so hard for me," he grunts in her ears as her high begins to settle.

He pull out his fingers, leaving her feeling empty for the sudden lost of touch. But that didn't last long when he proposed something else.

"One more time Родная (darling), with me." He moaned he sunk his metal hand into his pants and pull out his aching cock. The soldat tugs himself in his palm, rubbing the wetness on his hand around his length before settling it between her throbbing cunt.

Y/N didn't manage to let our her protest when he intercepted her, "Won't put it in, darling. Just..." his words linger as he squeezed her plush thighs together, engulfing his warm cock between them, "...wanna snuggle in between your thighs, Куколка (little one)."

"So keep them pressed together, okay?" the brunnete coaxed as his hands took a hold on her, "Will you do that for me?" The soldat asked sweetly.

She gave a small nod of affirmation, looking down at where the soldat's hands squishing both side of her thighs. The feeling of his length throbbing, wet with her slick, had her squeezing her thighs together more.

"That's my sweet girl. Promise you, it'll feel so good, darling." He let out a pleasurable groan as his hips jerked all the way forward, his skin meeting the back of her thighs while the head of his cock was peeking out from the other side.

With a squeeze of her hips in his hands, that will definitely leave bruises afterwards, he started to grind her into him. Back and forth, for the few experimental thrusts. And the moment her pretty little moans started to spill, he knew she needed more.

"More?" he moaned lowly, rocking his hips mindlessly.

Y/N limped back against his chest, whimpering sweetly for him as her needy little cunt drools messily all over her thighs and his cock; effortlessly making the thrust of his length between her thighs even easier.

If she was already so sensitve from him fingers before, now it's just oversimulating for her, "Hmm,, s-soldat,, that feels s-so good," she slurred, eyes rolling back.

"Yeah?" he gloated as he grunts, "Are you gonna cum again, darling? Come on, sweet one, I want to feel it." The soldat almost whimpered as he felt the thudding beat of her cunt on the stroke of his cock.

Y/N simply nodded, mouth falling open. His cock works over her sweet little pussy, nudging the sensitive bundle of nerve as he urged her to orgasm alongside his own.

He watched the way she drag her nails into the flesh of his thighs, "There she is, come on. Let it out, darling. That's it. Hmmm." His chest rumbled a deep groan. It was such a turned on for the soldat, to see the sight of him humping her legs faster until her slick finally wetting her thighs and his cock, making a mess everywhere.

Even if she has reached her high, his thrusts didn't flatter as his own orgasm was still at the edge. "Ahh,, darling,, please-- c-can't stop,," The upperside of his cock harshly rubbed between her sloppy folds, the feeling of the creamy mess between her thighs, making him fucked her faster.

The soldat whined needily into her neck as he drag her tightness back and forth. "So good, don't wanna stop." he squirmed as his voice hitched into a needy whimper, letting his head fall back to the headboard, his disheveled hair hanging by his face, some of it sticking onto his sweaty skin.

The room echoed with the several sinful sounds; his whimpers, her mewls, their skins slapping, the bed creaking, the wetness squelching.

It was such a dream for the soldat, especially when her folds spread around his fat cock every time he rolled his hips forward. The sight was beyond compelling, addictive to a certain extend.

"S-soldat,, please i'm,,hmmm,, sensitive." She can feel how thighs burned from the friction, and her slit abused with pleasure.

The soldat leaned into her until his hot breath blew across her neck, "Just a little more, Родная (darling)? Please? Wanna cum around your soft thighs, between your pretty pussy. You'll let me, right sweet one? You'll let me make a mess all over you? Paint you with my cum. You'll look so gorgeous, Родная (darling)"

His filthy thoughts started to spill out uncontrollably, as his body trembled in pure pleasure. His heaving chest rested on her small back when he whimpered, almost forcing her on her knees, pushing her down the mattress.

He wanted that so bad.

Just fuck her thighs and folds while she's on all fours, abusing her body for his pleasure and maybe slot the tip of his cock inside that tight cunt just before he cum, give that greedy little cunt a taste of his load, but he rather than that the soldat hold back on his thought, because truthfully he very much wanted to make a mess all over her right now.

His mouth sucking on her neck, leaving another one of his mark on her skin; one of many between those shades of purples and reds.

"Cumming for you, darling." He moaned loudly, eyes locked between her thighs, as his leaking cockhead occasionally peeks out. "Have so much cum for you,, gonna cream all over these thighs" He groaned, clenching his teeth as his cock throbs.

She clenched tighter as a unexpected orgasm were coming fast, letting out a desperate squeal as she reach her high. He growled at the feeling of her gushing pussy, fucking their orgasm into a higher level ecstacy.

The rolls of his hips were flattering into a slower and and sensual tempo, as both of them watched his cock; the way it pulsed and throbbed wildly, before white spurts of his hot cum started gushing from the little slit.

The soldat trembled through his orgasm, mouth falling open as he moaned lewdly at the sight of her skin being painted by his seemingly endless amount of cum.

Y/N panted heavily as her lips hanged open; failed words just at the tips of her tongue, unable to be formed properly. It didn't take long for the drowsiness to cloud her eyes, caused by the aftershock of the pleasure.

"There, there." The soldat cooed breathlessly in her ear, "So pretty, darling." Pampering the mark on her skin with gentle kisses, "So good for me." He mumbled as he languidly thrusts his cock, stroking the sides of her thighs, memorizing the sight of their wet mess.

Her body felt so good and satisfied, and the lid of her eyes slowly flutter into a longer close. She didn't hear much of his praises as he as laid her down, especially when his voice going in and out of her ears, as she was fighting through the temptation of slumber.

But, her body absolutely remembered how soft his touches on her skin, and the warm of the wet cloth swiping on the burn of her inner thighs, carefully over her swollen cunt.

"Love you, my precious darling." She couldn't make up what he was whispering under his breath. But she remembered the soldat pulling her close to his chest as he laid her on top of him, and the sweet kiss on her forehead before complete darkness engulf her sight.

"Your soldat loves you so much."

<< Part I || Part III >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

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5K notes · View notes

illusioninfnty · 9 months

Text

day 13 ; mommy kink

↠ brahms heelshire x reader

fandom: the boy word count: 1k warnings: nsfw 18+, dom!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, slight choking (m receiving)

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

Nighttime in the Heelshire mansion was always your favorite. Brahms still preferred the comfort of his spaces within the walls during the days. He only came out when the sun went down, the only light source being the glimmer of the moon.

At night, you could do whatever you wanted to him.

Your hips bounce up and down on top of Brahms, his cock filling you so perfectly. You’re able to move yourself so that the tip of it hits you in just the right spot, causing you to see stars.

“So good for me,” you croon. Brahms’ hands tighten around your hips at your words. His muscles tense as you continue to ride him and his cock throbs inside of you.

Brahms was still mostly clothed, his pants unbuttoned and underwear pulled down to unsheath his cock. His wife beater was doused in his sweat, sticking to his chest.

And that damn mask. No matter what you did, you could never convince him to take it off.

Even now, as he lay trembling underneath you, his soft moans echoed out of the porcelain mask that covered his face.

You lean over him and ghost your hands over his neck. Brahms cranes his head up, pressing deeper into the bedsheets, almost as if inviting you closer. You let one hand rest on his neck, thumb caressing it gently while your other trails down his chest, finding its way under his top to stroke his stomach.

Gyrating your hips on his cock, you moan. “Touch my clit, Brahms.”

He obeys immediately, removing a hand off your hip to bring it to your clit. He rubs the area harshly, yet just enough to still make you feel good. He’s been learning, you think.

You smirk at his complacency. “Good boy.”

A soft gasp, almost inaudible, escapes his lips. If you were anyone else you probably would have not heard it. But you were used to Brahms’ quiet nature and always paying attention to him.

The effect those words had on him were more than you expected. His hips, previously still and under your full control, begin to buck up into you. Through the mask, you can see his eyes widen and pupils dilate. His breathing is even heavier than before, and the hand placed upon his neck can feel as he swallows hard.

“P…please…” he stutters out in a whisper. “Mommy.”

Your ears perk up. Mommy? He’s never called you that before.

“Speak up,” you command. You tighten around him, and he gasps in surprise.

“Mommy!” He whines out, his hips bucking more furiously into you. He thrusts into you harder than he’s ever done. You’ve always been the one to take initiative and control the pace as you sit on top of him.

But it seems as though he’s fueled by this, as if you’ve just discovered an innate pleasure deep inside of him. You can’t help but groan at how much his cock presses into you with the newfound force of his thrusts. Your hands grip him tighter.

If he was going to get so much pleasure out of calling you Mommy, who were you to deny him that?

“You’re doing so well, baby,” you say. Brahms pants from under his mask, and his cock seems to grow bigger—if that was even possible. It feels so good inside you.

If his mask was off, you knew that you would be able to see a blush across his features. “Thank you Mommy,” he whimpers out.

Some of his dark curls begin to stick to the top of his mask from all the sweat coming out of him. You push some of them away, getting a better look. Brahms looks up at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the sky. All this from your indulgence in his fantasies.

You bounce up and down on his thick cock, much harder than before.

“Mommy!” Brahms calls out. His chest heaves and his cock pulses as he rapidly thrusts up, chasing his release. “Feels so good, Mommy!”

“Does my good boy want to cum?” you coo, mocking him gently. Brahms’ head nods rapidly, soft whines leaving his lips. “Mommy will only let you cum if you help her first.”

He immediately follows your commands. He rubs circles on your clit and holds your hip with his other hand to ground himself as he pistons into you. The bed creaks under the intensity of his thrusts.

Your own back is arched, chasing more of the fullness you feel with Brahms inside you. You tighten your hands around Brahms, returning one to his neck while the other remains on his lower stomach, and he groans lowly.

“There you go, baby. Make Mommy cum.” You can feel how close you are to your peak. Between Brahms' cock pistoning in and out of you, his soft whimpers coming from below, and the thick fingers he has rubbing against your clit, it’s only a matter of seconds before you reach it.

“Oh fuck,” you moan and throw your head back, the multiple areas of pleasure overwhelming you. Your orgasm comes not even seconds later, your pussy even slicker than before with the wetness of it.

When you recover from it, you can see how Brahms' arms tremble, a sign he was fighting back the urge to cum at that very moment.

You smile down at him. “Mommy’ll let you cum now,” you say.

Brahms lets out a sigh of relief. “Thank you Mommy, thank you,” he repeats over and over as his cum jets out of him and into your pussy. You feel the heat enter you in groves and some of it spill out onto the sides of his cock, wetting it even more as his thrusts persist.

The hand on his neck moves up to his cheek, caressing the area not concealed by the mask.

Brahms’ thrusts finally stop as he comes down from his peak, short gasps escaping his mouth. You lean down over him.

“Mommy’s so proud of you, baby,” you whisper into his ear.

Brahms whimpers in response, and his cock pulses back to life.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x reader #the boy x reader #brahms heelshire smut

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slutforleeminho · 6 months

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heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)

this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭

The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin

thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3

warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)

"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."

This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.

You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.

"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.

Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.

"Oh." Was all you replied with.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."

"Of course." He smiled.

He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.

That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.

"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.

You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.

You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.

Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.

"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."

"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.

It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.

"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.

"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.

"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."

"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.

"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."

"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.

The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.

After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.

"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."

"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."

"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."

"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.

He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."

You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."

PART TWO HERE

THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭

taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs

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crishayle · 6 months

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Astrology notes

Disclaimer. This is where I write my personal notes. They may not suit you because your other planets and aspects are stronger. Please consider this. Thanks for the feedback. Kisses ლ(´ڡ`ლ)

The placements in Leo/5th house are very dependent on music. They turn it on whenever possible. It doesn't matter with or without headphones. Some even have a ritual. For example, they don't clean or walk down the street without music

The beginning of the Capricorn season really fits the atmosphere of the end of the year. All people are stressed out, overworking to close deadlines. Everyone is save money for Christmas and gifts. Someone begins to feel apathy because of the cold and eternal darkness. Well, isn't it true that Capricorn's vibe? ૮₍˶Ó﹏Ò ⑅₎ა

People with a dominant Moon, do you also feel the phases of the Moon? For example, the recent full Moon in Cancer? I noticed that all my friends and clients with a dominant Moon constantly complain about some kind of fucked up full moon

If your Venus gets into the 1st house of a person in synastry, then he will consider you the ideal of beauty. That is, to accept literally everything. Even what you think is ugly

I noticed that people with a Leo in the Big Three (Sun, Moon, ascendant) most often have a pink skin tone or, more simply, a warm one

People can notice and especially feel not only your ascendant, but also the dominant planets and stelliums (including in houses). For example, the stellium in the 6th house may feel like Virgo, and the dominant Moon like Cancer or the sign of your Moon

Mars in the 7th house is not so much conflicted as fair and harsh in words. He will not quarrel from scratch, but if he feels disrespect, lies or arrogance, then… Well, you know... But in general, they are very pleasant and interesting people

Some of the most physically resilient people most often have Mars in Scorpio/Sagittarius/Virgo. They may not look athletic, but they withstand heavy loads much better than others. Although maybe it's their strength of mind, not their body.

Many aspects to Neptune can indicate a person who has an eternal mess at home

Any aspect of Jupiter and the Sun indicates optimism. Of course, they get upset too and sometimes don't believe in themselves, but their resourcefulness is much stronger than sadness.

People with the Sun/Moon square/opposition Saturn often suffer from hyper-responsiveness. It is very important for them to keep everything under control and this can literally bring themselves to neurosis

Mercury conjunct Venus with orb 0 or 1 is always a beautiful voice, maybe they don't have to sing, but they have a velvety and most often a little low voice

The Sun/Moon square/opposition Neptune most often consider their parents to be a little infantile, or they have been put in the role of a third parent since childhood. For example, a mother could see her daughter as a babysitter for her younger daughter. Simply put, such people have already felt older and wiser than their parents since childhood

People with the Moon conjunct/trine/sextile Saturn are very well-mannered. They understand what morality is, they are moderately kind, moderately modest, they know how to communicate politely and beautifully

Girls with stellium in Scorpio have always attracted, attract and will attract everyone's attention (but especially men's). Moreover, they are admired by other girls (they subscribe to them on Instagram and constantly watch stories and photos)

I recently read that Socrates (the man who invented rhetoric) may have been with the Sun in Gemini. I'm not surprised

People with the Moon sextile/trine/conjunct Venus are adorable. It's not even about charisma here, but about the fact that they are generally quite cute in character and appearance

The dominant Pluto in the natal chart may indicate a love of sarcasm, black humor and a slightly harsh manner of speech. Touchy people consider them rude, but for Plutonians this is their usual way of communicating

A little more about Pluto. Stephen King has many aspects that point to his love and talent in the horror genre. This is Pluto in the 1st house, Mercury sextile Pluto, the Moon trine Pluto, Scorpio in the 5th house

#astrology #astrology community #zodiac #horoscope #astrology blog #astrology signs #tumblr fyp #astro community #natal chart #astro observations #natal astrology #astro notes #astrologer #natal chart observations #astrology observations #astrology notes #astrology aspects

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submalevolentgrace · 2 years

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Hi! I'm very interested in attempting to write a disabled character (not for this blog, I assure, for an book I'm writing) in which the story doesn't fetishize/objectify her prosthetic limb. I'm in many writing circles and have been for a long while, but I've never seen this issue brought to light which I realise is a very important one. I have much to change in my thought process, and thank you for bringing this issue to attention.

I'm curious, and I apologise if this has been asked before, but what sort of design could you see for a functional prosthetic that doesn't go for a plainly aesthetic appearance, or is soully to please others? I do note that you said prosthetics are generally... not that helpful. So is there a way that it could be? Or do you think it would always generally be better to not use a prosthetic, as its mostly for aesthetic purposes, as you said?

I apologise if this ask is too outright or anything, and I don't mean to intrude. Thank you for your time and have a beautiful day!

okay, i want to answer this as in depth as possible, because whenever i talk about having a prosthesis, someone will always tag some variation of "#writing reference" and i do wonder what message they're taking away, and i want to get as much of my experience out as possible to maybe help shape how this is all portrayed in the future. and yeah… this is gonna be one of those rambly smg posts that the expand feature was invented for, so i'll start with the very abridged TL;DR:

if you're writing a character with an upper limb prosthesis; don't. arm amputees are unicorn level rare even compared to leg amputees, and i've never interacted with or even heard of an upper limb amputee that regularly uses a prosthesis, let alone relies on one. fiction has lied to you for the sake of cool aesthetics, don't repeat the cycle. more in depth writing advice including nuance and "but i waaaant to" will follow.

that said, grab your donning parachute and let's get started...

context for everyone involved: i am an upper limb amputee that rants a lot about how prostheses suck, i lost my right hand roughly five years ago at roughly the age of 30 after a very rough decline in health… it was pretty rough. this question is being asked in the context of a previous rant post of mine, and i checked that the ask is about an upper limb prosthesis in particular.

the situation regarding the usefulness of lower limb prostheses is totally different; i am definitely no expert, but by all accounts, prosthetic legs are incredibly useful for many people. getting a good leg can be absolutely life changing and more or less necessary for day to day life for some; mostly because infrastructure and society is just so fucking hostile to wheelchair users. being able to walk - at the cost of pressure sores and rashes and increased residual limb pain - is a preferable option to many people than being unable to fit through a doorway or in a bathroom stall or find out that the key to unlock the only elevator is in the admin office up three flights of stairs (true story).

but upper limb prostheses… see, the thing is, hands are incredibly complex organs that rely on a lot of immediate haptic feedback to work at all. hand dexterity is all about control, you need fine granular movements of the digits yes, but you also need the subtle sensations of pressure and proprioception in order to adjust your movements on the fly. i speak from experience, in the years leading up to the full loss of my hand, i was slowly losing function of it, usually swinging between numbness that made it clumsy at best, or screaming overstimulation from moving it at all resulting in unpredictable spasms… and let me tell you, a half working hand is infuriating to try and deal with. you can never know if you have a good grip on something or if it's slipping because of the wrong amount of pressure, and there's only so many smashed bottles of pickles on the floor before you give up using it all together… so amputation wasn't a great loss there, i had time to adapt.

a prosthetic hand of any kind has all of those issues and more. they're heavy and bulky, the cosmetic faux fingers or gripping claw have crude movement at best, and there's zero feedback (put a pin in this). 100% of the time you're using a prosthetic hand you have to keep your eyes on the grip and visually guesstimate whether or not the thing you're carrying is held tight enough but not too tight, that is if your "heavy duty" prosthesis can even support the weight without the servos disengaging or the wrist attachment socket just busting loose. i dropped a whippersnipper on my foot last week when my socket couldn't take the weight and i think that was the final straw in me desperately trying to prove to myself that there is a single task my prosthesis actually helps with.

this is usually where fully two handed people start talking about bleeding edge DARPA tech, and how we just need to invest more,research more, develop more. better tech, more tech, neural integration, more more more. okay i promise the writing advice is coming! for starters on tech, my experience is already with a mid-to-high end ottobock terminal device: i've got a myoelectric nerve-signal operated proportional control heavy duty greifer; about the only upgrade left for me to get would be a rotating wrist joint if i could coflex. it's not military, it's not "rockclimber that owns a prosthetic company", but it's quality tech. it still fucking sucks. secondly, that high level military tech exists primary for PR purposes so they can say they treat their discarded casualties well, "we can rebuild him, we have the technology" style. every war vet i've read about or heard from that's been gifted that high level tech also abandons it for the same reasons; it's imprecise, there's no feedback (or the haptic interface has to be fully recalibrated every time they put it on), but mostly they're more capable without one.

okay, the transhumanist ableds say (i should know, i used to be one), what if we did more ~research and development~ and got that neural feedback working? then we could have fireproof superhumanly strong robot arms to fix up everyone! here's where i take out that pin we put up before and i tell you that a class of prosthetic arms/hands already exists that has perfect proportional control, fine motor control, and physics perfect pressure feedback piped directly into the patients' existing sensory systems! they're called body-powered prostheses, and they were invented in like the 1600s. you strap a whole bunch of stuff to your arm and shoulders shoulders, and control the operation of the terminal device and elbow through cable tension by flexing your shoulders. they do take a considerable amount of training to operate - though hell i spent 18 months training to use my myo - but based on everything i've read, body-powered prostheses are the best option if you're an upper limb amputee and absolutely need a second hand for some reason.

but they don't look cool and futuristic, and according to my prosthetist, most people give up on using them too. we all give up on our prostheses, no matter the type. my rehab OT was impressed i lasted the 18 months of my training. towards the end, they even asked if the clinic director could drop in to one of my sessions to see my progress; he expressed genuine amazement at me casually using my bulky robot claw to use a brush and dustpan, and made an offhanded (hah) comment about what someone can achieve "if they stick it out to the end", implying it was somewhat of a rarity for me to have done so. several years on, and yesterday i wedged the dustpan between my ankles to sweep up into it, awkward but exponentially less effort than putting my dusty robot arm on. which, by the way, is a whole thing. look up some videos, they're all awful to don. i don't actually know the official technical name of what my clinic calls a "parachute" but it's a bitch to use! have you ever tried to pull back with your arm whilst also pushing it forwards at the same time, and simultaneously lean in to and away from an external force pulling on you? that's how you get a myo socket on.

bare with me, i promise writing advice is coming, and i promise it's more than the tl;dr. but. remember when i said a half working hand is infuriating to deal with? any prosthesis, from fancy myo tech to pirate-era body powered, will only ever be half as good as a working hand, and being juuuust within capability to do something but not quite able to is maddening! but you know what works way better than a half working hand? no hand at all. using whatever residual/vestigial limb you have - whatever "stump" you have, i hate that word - is pretty much always better than trying to use a prosthesis. i can use the inside of my elbow to grip and carry things, i can use the nub of my arm to apply pressure to hold things, open doors, use a computer mouse, turn on taps and lights, if i put a glove over it i can use it to prep for cooking. i have full proprioception and pressure feedback with skin contact, i don't think i've ever dropped and broken anything from my elbow, unlike countless things slipped from my greifer - which, by the way, absolutely will start clenching as tight as it can if i get even slightly too sweaty around the electrodes, which has both broken things i'm holding and also injured me, because surprise surprise but servo operated robot claws have pinch points on them right near the "emergency disengage" lever for some reason!

but i am exponentially more capable without it on than with it. no, i'm not fully independent, i rely on housemates and loved ones to help me out with some tasks that simply just need two handed dexterity, but none of those tasks are things a prosthesis makes me able to do anyway. i used to imagine my prosthesis would be like a bra; a bit awkward and uncomfortable, but i'd wear it throughout the day because it's helpful and take it off in the evening to decompress. in reality it's actually exactly like a bra: an absolute bitch to put on one handed, unbearably uncomfortable because it never sits right, ugly af unless you're a millionaire, and absolutely useless except for the fact that i get gawked at and judged by strangers if i leave the house without it on.

and if you really want to discover how far "no hand is better than a half working hand" goes, brace yourself, and look up the patient's stories (not medical system stories) of people that have had hand transplants. the first man to receive one hated it, he was promised a return to normal function, and what he got was a nightmare worse than being one handed; he wanted it removed again but the doctors refused because it would undermine their grand achievement of the first hand transplant. the doctors and society wanted him to be fixed, they wanted him to be normal, they wanted him to be abled. they failed. they made him less able to do things, denied his autonomy, and left him with someone else's hand slowly rotting on him, prioritising the idea of "scientific progress" and "two hands good" over the physical health, mental health, and ability to function of this man.

he's not alone; every story from the patients' perspective about hand transplants that i've read goes this way, including a woman who was born quad limb different and was promised hands would improve her life, pressured into a double hand transplant, only to find herself after the surgery essentially experiencing disability for the first time ever, because she had lived her whole life getting by just fine with her 'underdeveloped' limbs, but half working hands are worse than useless. you can try to find these stories yourself, but i'm not going looking for sources on any of these cases, because if you look back through enough of my posts you'll get a glimpse of the horrors and abuses that i too was put through by doctors who prioritised trying to "fix" me at any cost, rather than providing me the best quality of life, and in turn traumatised me and left me more broken than any loss of limb on its own could. dear goddess, i promise the writing advice is coming.

so. why do upper limb prostheses exist at all? if they're so terrible and useless, what is their function? i want to borrow something someone else left in the tags of a previous rant here, from someone who i believe works in prosthetics and/or rehab, cleaned up and anonymised at their request:

"upper limb functions are wildly more complex than: 1) bear weight static, and 2) bear weight moving. but every single upper limb amputee i know has a fancy expensive prosthetic just gathering dust in the closet because there is literally nothing it can do like a few years of adjustment and if needed non-dominant hand retraining can't do. the existence of forquarter prosthetics to begin with is just kind of silly and useless and entirely to make OTHER people feel comfortable, especially considering they universally are UNcomfortable for the amputee. i hate the notion that as soon as you get the amputation the prosthetic is The Thing That Will Fix You And Make You Feel Normal again because it universally isn't! but every forequarter person i know had like this ideal of Being Fixed By Magic Prosthetic that they were then obviously wildly disappointed by and had to do yet another grieving process with, versus if the dominant narrative were just one of: yeah. it'll take time, there is no magic fix."

and i think that really nails down what the actual purpose of upper limb prostheses is: they're not for the user, they're for the sake of other people. and not just their comfort when looking at our bodies, although based on the pressure for both amputees and people born limb different to get functionless cosmetic plastic hands, there is a lot of that. but it's not just that.

i fully believe that the reason prosthetic hands exists is to comfort the fears of the two handed. "don't worry", they say, "we can fix you again. you don't have to fear becoming Disabled, you don't have to worry about adapting or your life changing. we can make you Normal™ again."

you would not believe the number of people that have approached me to shower me with pity, to tell me how horrific my life is, how they can't imagine it. people have told me, apropos of nothing, that they'd kill themselves if they lost a hand. indirectly, that my life isn't worth living. unless, of course, i happen to be wearing my cool as fuck looking robot prosthesis! then they tell me how wonderful it is, how lucky i am, how glad they are that we have the technology to fix me. that's what a prosthetic hand says, what all the happy fishing photos on limbs4life posters at the rehab clinic say: don't worry, we can fix you. that's what the bleeding edge DARPA flexi-whatever fully articulated neuro-feedback hands say: don't worry if you get IED'd while hunting civilians for us to drone bomb, if you get hurt, we will fix you, we will fix the fuck out of you, we will motherfucking adam jensen you into a cool as fuck cyborg that your son will idolise; come on boys, don't you wanna enlist just for the chance at being as cool as this? join the bomb squad for a ticket to the upgrade lottery.

and so we arrive at fiction. as much as his dialogue options protest, adam jensen loves his robot arms, they punch through walls, turn into fucking swords! they make him the most special man in the world. what would he do without them? learn to cope? grieve? practice acceptance? take up poetry? just, be disabled? there's no power fantasy for ableds in that.

in fact, can you think of a single fictional character that's an upper limb amputee that's, well, just an amputee? they all have robot arms. not realistic prostheses, not medical devices; robot arms. sleek or bulky, top of the line or broken down self built, steampunk or nanomachines or magitech automail; they're never without them. never just an amputee. never born limb different either! there's always that element of tragedy to overcome, always suffering and misery porn, always focus on the pain and the helplessness without the absolutely vital robot arm that makes them Normal and Whole. the closest amputee example i can think of is furiosa from mad max, who iirc fucking punches max in the face with her residual limb like a motherfucking badass! i can barely lean on mine wrong and she punches a guy! but she still apparently needs a dieselpunk robot hand to drive a truck, something you can do one handed so easily most drivers don't even notice they're doing it! please don't, by the way

and so many disabled fans love to point to robot armed characters as disability representation; the winter soldier, luke skywalker, edward elric, misty knight, that genderswapped furry girl from ratchet and clank, jet cowboybebop, finn the human, and yes, adam jensen…. these are all characters that someone disabled i know has told me they love because they "represent disabled bodies"…. and i know nobody wants to hear this, because i've been screamed at for saying it before, but… they do not. they are not disabled, functionally or within fiction. they are either perfectly able bodied Normal people with chrome paint on an arm, or tortured misery porn we are supposed to pity and feel lucky we're not them. sometimes both!

also you ever notice how it's basically always arms? lower limb amputations are orders of magnitude more common than upper, my prosthetist said i was probably only the 4th or 5th upper limb she'd worked with in her career, with literally hundreds of lower limb fits. but fiction doesn't seem to reflect that, huh? or any other part of the reality of disability. it's always cool as fuck robot arms, never cool as fuck wheelchairs or crutches or dialysis machines or colostomy bags. a fair few "i was blind but now i can see with Robot Eyes and also infrared and xray" around, which again, plays into that "we can fix you and make you cooler" propaganda.

by the way, up above when i was describing body powered arms, if you wondered to yourself why i went with a myoelectric one instead when i clearly believe body powered is better… yeah. i am not immune to propaganda! i too wanted to be cool as fuck. i spent years with deteriorating function in my hand for reasons that are still unknown, was misdiagnosed and medically neglected to the point that removing my hand seemed to be the only option left to offer some relief, and even that was a clusterfuck that left me worse than ever… of course i wanted to believe in the power and prestige of a cool robot arm that fiction promised me.

but fiction promises fantastical lies. and so.

we get to the writing advice portion of the novella that is this post. you asked for advice on how to write a disabled character with an upper limb prosthesis. you've read the tl;dr, you've read everything above i assume, you know i don't want you to do it. the obvious twist is that it's been writing advice all along, me trying to share my perspective on what it's like being an amp with a robot arm and how shitty it is, implying how almost any fully realised and realistic character that's missing an upper limb would give up on a prosthesis at all. you can already tell that every value judgement in me says "don't give her a prosthesis, no matter how functional or cool you make it. don't try to make the tech better to justify it, just let her be one armed, one handed. just let her be disabled, but not helpless. let her show off her elbow or underarm carry strength. let her love interest appreciate how soft and squishy her residual limb is in a moment of tenderness. let her natural disabled body be respected and valued."

but that's a personal value judgement from me, and you are the author of your own work. i know it's trite to say, but you are! even the act of deferring to someone with lived experience in the hope of doing a better job at representation is a value judgement, a good choice in my opinion, but one you needn't necessarily take. maybe you do want to write a character that has a cool as fuck unrealistic robot arm as a power fantasy, or a comfort blanket… i did.

i've been slowly writing my own probably terrible scifi epic for over a decade now, and when my arm was giving me hell back then, i'd take great comfort in this fantasy of my protagonist with her chunky robot arm, the terrible traumatic suffering of her loss, overcoming, the power and ability her advanced prosthesis gives her over others, that she alone has access to, because others are not willing to make the sacrifices required. inspiration porn. awful stuff to me now, but empowering to me then. as i grew and gained direct experience, i slowly reimagined her, rewrote her, ship of theseus'd her into an entirely new character; a reflection of me now, bitter at the whole thing, spiteful that her natural flesh arm evokes fear and distrust, but unwilling to suffer the pain and frustration of her unnatural prosthesis just to make others comfortable and respect her as "whole", however artificial that whole is. and as with the ship of theseus being two ships, once i realised the transformation, i re-added the old protagonist back in whole cloth as a separate character; proud of her robot arm and its power, but in new context, as a foil and antagonist, an in-universe military prosthesis propaganda figure to reflect how i now feel characters like her exist to us, the readers.

i'm not just sharing that as egotistical self promotion, but to highlight that, even if i sit here begging you all up and down not to write characters with robot arms for how bad and unrealistic they are; there's still something genuine and true that their inclusion can say. the great thing about the story that you're writing is that only you can write it, as they say. but i whole heartedly believe that to write to your best, you have to be aware of what you're writing and why. as tempting as it is to feel these characters form naturally in us and therefore we're averse to changing traits about them that feel organic and self evident; as authors we have omnipotent control over the text, every trait and detail is a reflection on us, so we'd sure as hell better understand why we're choosing to write a character with this trait. because anything you write without being aware of intent will take on its own meaning in the space between.

and on that note, if i don't say this, i'm leaving it to be inferred: i definitely don't want to appear to come down on the side of saying "you cannot write an amputee unless you are one", because we are rarer than single young bisexual unicorns! and it would be a tragedy if anyone read through all this and then turned away in fear, deciding to never write an amputee character (with or without robot arm) because they feel they can't do it justice… believe me, no matter what anyone says, some hack writer somewhere is going to keep writing adam jensens and winter soldiers. don't let them be the only voices in fiction! just try to do your best.

so my ultimate advice on the topic of writing a character with a prosthetic limb is to ask yourself one question in two different frameworks, and meditate on what you feel the answer is:

why does she have a prosthesis?

from a doylelist perspective as the kids say, as an author with omnipotent control, why are you choosing to write about this topic? why are you choosing to give this trait to this character? what does it say about how you view ability and disability, what makes a person normal, and what our society values? will you let her be in her natural body? or will you give her a prosthesis, force her to wear it by authorial fiat, or author her a meaningful reason to choose to? if yes, be sure you know; why did you give her a prosthesis?

and from a wastonian perspective, diegetically, inside the story, why does she choose to wear a prosthesis? what does it say about her inner character, and how she interacts with the world? how does she feel about doing it, is she prideful and loves the attention she gets, or does she resent whatever necessitates its use? how do people in this world view ability and disability, what does this society value? and above all, whatever the answer to these questions, whether or not she uses a prosthesis or is badass without one, how does she deal with the eternal freezing cold that every amputee ever feels constantly in their residual limb and why does nobody make a heat pack that fits over a nub without drafty gaps???

i can't outright tell you how to write a good upper limb amputee, but if you at least know why you're writing one and for what purpose, you're on track to write the best character that you can. that's the best advice i can give… other than, like, this whole rambly mess.

and, as a reward for reading this far, please have a very blurry cryptid photo of my cat doing his old man sit:

#prosthesis #prosthetic #disability #ableism

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