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chickenparm · 7 months

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Warm Enough (Wriothesley/gn!Reader)

header by @drawlypsy :^)

i said to myself "that fortress is all metal, ain't no way that bitch is warm!" and then i said "wait...warm......warmer............warming-"

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AO3 LINK

Written pre-4.1

Wriothesley/gn!Reader (no pronouns, no body description) 1441 Words - NSFW Cockwarming, desk sex, a little bit of dirty talk, pre-established relationship

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Wriothesley has a person for everything. A tool for every problem, a solution to most situations that would leave others frustrated or at a loss.

There’s a man he knows that has an exceptional skill in metallurgy. It’s where he gets his cuffs from. A woman with connections in Liyue to obtain high quality ore. A man with hands skilled enough to turn that ore into the components needed for his gloves. And so on and so forth.

Wriothesley is the Duke of Meropide; there’s no shortage of problems that need solving in one way or another. It just comes with the territory - he knew it when he somehow ended up with the title and position. Resourcefulness has served him well, he thinks.

Meropide is surprisingly cold, despite the foundry inside. His office itself sits far enough away that often the coat over his shoulders is worn as it should be, the tea on his desk keeping his fingers warm when he wraps them around the cup. So, when you smiled at him disarmingly and asked if he’d like something to warm him up, he agreed offhandedly without a second thought.

And he should have thought.

Because thoughtlessness gets him here - sitting at his desk, fingers struggling to write as he shivers in a different way. Eyes unfocused and unseeing at the words swimming on the pages, the hair at the back of his neck sticking uncomfortably to his skin with an uncharacteristic amount of sweat.

“I-I think I’m warm enough-”

“Are you? You’re trembling, poor thing.” You hum, tilting your head a little more so he can see more easily over your shoulder. “Let’s stay a little longer. Just like this.”

Like this? Wriothesley wants to laugh, but not out of good humor. Of course, he’s warm, but perhaps too much. Your hips shift, and with it comes a shock of pleasure that makes his brows pitch together and his teeth clamp down on his tongue. Only when a faint tang of copper touches his taste buds does he let it go and say, “Have I upset you?”

“What makes you say that?” Your answer comes with another roll of your hips, a quiet sigh leaving you as you enjoy both the sensation and the throbbing desperation of his cock inside you. Your next words are spoken a little lower, a little more heady, “Isn’t this better than being cold? If you want, I can do this all day.”

“Please, don’t.”

And his stomach twists in quiet embarrassment at how pathetic that sounded. At how your body shakes with your quiet, pleased laughter. At how you purposely clench around him until his breath leaves his lungs in a quiet groan. How if you tried to get off him and leave, he’d pull you right back onto his dick where you belong.

Wriothesley has a person for everything - including you to satisfy his more personal needs.

“I know you’re having fun,” he starts, knuckles white with his annoyed grip on his pen, “but just know what’s coming to you later.”

“Later?” Your voice is teasing as you lean forward a little, your elbow on the desk as if you needed to get comfortable for the long haul. “Why do I have to wait?”

With a quiet sound, Wriothesley sets his pen down very carefully. All things considered, he’s been very patient with this. Too patient, with how keenly he’s aware of your pulse from the inside, how it skipped when his hand just wrapped around your hip. As coy as you try to be, Wriothesley knows your tells.

You want the conclusion to this as badly as he does. And with that knowledge, now he’s ready to drag this out, to meet you blow for blow if you don’t relent.

“We’re not warm enough, right?” His fingers dig into your hip, hold you still when you try to shift once more. One simple movement shifts control, places it firmly in his palm and he’s not going to let it go so easily. “And besides, our bedroom gets rather cold, too. Doesn’t it?”

The line of your throat shifts as you swallow harder than necessary, and you look over your shoulder at him with an obvious pout, “Maybe some friction will do the trick for now?”

“Why didn’t you start with that?” Wriothesley asks, cocking his head to the side, mouth set in a line of disapproval. You don’t answer, but you don’t need to. It’s all a game, and playing along keeps you happy, but now he’s impatient. If you won’t let him win, then at least a draw will do.

With a sharp huff of air, your chest hits the desk as you’re pinned to it, hips digging into the edge as he leans his weight into you, pushing deeper into the warmth you so graciously tried to share. It’s easy to keep you there with a hand between your shoulder blades, easier still as he pulls back and thrusts forward once more.

The sound you make echoes off the walls of his office, and he leans in to shush you, “Sh-sh-sh, don’t need anyone getting curious. You know how easily sound travels down the stairs.”

Rather than simply keep quiet, your palms slap over your mouth as if you can’t be bothered to completely hide how his cock feels inside you, fucking you open with slow, deep strokes. Faster might be better, it would make that friction you suggested, but the sweat beading at your temple makes him think that this is doing just fine.

And either way, he likes doing it this way. Slow, methodical, keeping pace and hitting exactly where you need it to make your eyes roll behind fluttering lashes. The tips of your fingers dig into your cheeks, pressing into the skin and catching his eye. Subconsciously, his own fingers mimic that pressure into the skin of your back, keeping you still and prone for him.

“You think if I made you scream, we could finish and get dressed before someone came to check on us?” He asks, a little grin cutting into his cheek as your eyes snap open to look at him. Quickly you shake your head, but he pushes for it anyway, picking up the pace and angling just right that you instinctively arch against it.

When you don’t relent right away, he goes for it again - and again, and again, your body tensing and one of your feet kicking against the desk in either protest or reflex. It doesn’t matter which, he thinks, you’d be more upset if he stopped now, anyway.

“C’mon,” he urges, leaning closer, his chest aligned with your back as he gets down to your level, “just a little one? For me?”

Your head shakes. Wriothesley makes a sound of disappointment with his tongue behind his teeth. “If you don’t do it now, I’ll make it twice as worse later. Then you’ll have to look everyone in the eye knowing they’re aware I fucked you stupid.”

Maybe you’re too close to the edge, or maybe you realized that there’s no winning this one, but your hand slips and you cry out your release, palm slapping against the desk to push back against him in greedy ecstasy.

Having been teetering on the edge for over an hour now, Wriothesley digs into your skin with his grip and finds his own pleasure in you. As you shudder beneath him, his breath rushes against your ear with each of his thrusts until you receive a much quieter sound of his satisfaction in return and the pulsing fullness that comes from him fucking it deeper with a few purposeful jerks of his hips.

Footsteps ring out on the metal stairs, and Wriothesley snaps back to reality with a huff and a chaste kiss beneath your ear. Something soft after all of that. With shaking hands, you fix your clothing and try to make yourself presentable. The sweat on your forehead is wiped off with the sleeve of Wriothesley’s coat, and he frowns but says nothing.

There’s no time for admonishing when one of the guards knocks on the door and asks if the two of you are alright. Clearing your throat, you answer that everything is just fine, that the two of you are arguing. The guard laughs and leaves; it’s not the first time you’ve disagreed with him on something.

Only when the footsteps fade away do you turn around and slap at his shoulder half-heartedly. And he laughs in return, a soft little thing as he holds his shoulder in mock-pain and taunts, “Another thing you’ll answer for later.”

#mind the a/n for content tags #wriothesley #genshin impact #genshin #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #wriothesley/reader #wriothesley x reader #gender-neutral reader #gn!reader #reader is not described physically

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maladaptiveobsession · 2 months

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yandere valentino x reader x angel dust

contains: reader w/unspecified genitals, gn reader, nsfw themes, noncon/dubcon, dehumanization, degradation, heavy abuse (brief mentions of physical violence, manipulation, sexual exploitation), dacryphilia, overstimulation

word count: 2,160

It’s not unusual for sinners to throw themselves at Valentino’s feet, but it is the first time the red skies of hell have thrown one directly onto him. The impact sends you both to the ground, collapsing in a startled heap.

He scrambles to throw you off, having every intention to rip you to scraps. Upon lifting your head, he suddenly has grander schemes in mind. His towering figure and lascivious grin send shivers down your spine.

“My, what lovely specimen do we have here? How kind of heaven to send a beauty like yourself directly to me.” His flirtations send blood rushing to your head, making your face grow warmer. You shyly break eye contact, swiveling your head to get a look around. Where is this place?

Valentino must notice your growing confusion and distress, interrupting your thoughts with a low chuckle.

“Welcome to hell, dollface.” Oh, you must be dead. You never thought you were perfect, but you never could’ve imagined you’d go to hell! Where did you go wrong? Suddenly thrust into hell with murderers, rapists, and monsters alike, you wondered if you could die twice.

“Don’t look so down, baby; you’re in luck! There’s no better demon you could’ve crashed into.” He goes on to introduce himself as a powerful overlord with a well-known and successful business.

“I’m feeling awfully generous right now. Why don’t you come work for me? I know just where to put you! You’ll fit right in! I’m sure my patrons will love you too.” He pauses to let you digest the information. “As my employee, you’d be provided housing. I could easily protect you from the creeps and losers on this side of hell. I’ll even forgive you for dirtying my coat! Sounds like a steal, right?”

He takes a long drag from a cigar that you're not sure where came from, then whips out a contract and pen.

“So, how about it, baby?”

Stranded in an unfamiliar place, you easily accept his kindness. As you take hold of the pen, something about his grin makes you uneasy.

If only you read the fine print. So began your life of torment.

What Valentino neglected to mention was that the “successful business” he ran was a porn studio. You spent hours doing photoshoots, films, and shows. Like Valentino suggested, you became his star attraction—the shy and delicate pornstar all of hell’s degenerates thirsted for. Yet they would never get a taste. Valentino didn’t share his personal toys.

Inexplicably, he couldn’t get enough of you. He wanted to own you the moment he saw your pretty face, drawn to the light in your eyes.

Even with your skin bruised by his fingers and your throat sore from careless treatment, you still desired his rough affection. You didn’t mind that he left you battered each night or his harsh comments when you couldn’t keep up with his demands.

You could even forgive him for cruelly allowing his customers to take advantage of you and fuck you back into submission.

“I said I could protect you; I never said I would. Perhaps you’ll think twice before disobeying in the future.”

You would do anything if it meant receiving his violent devotion.

Being the personal toy of an egomaniacal moth could never be easy, but at least you weren’t alone. You had befriended none other than Valentino’s former favored pornstar, Angel Dust. Despite your differences in character, your shared experiences created a bond neither of you could find anywhere else. Misery always finds company.

Angel felt conflicted upon meeting you. That bastard had finally found a new toy to replace him! His joy only lasted until he heard your voice, so soft and sweet.

Valentino would break you.

Angel dreamed of the day Valentino would grow bored of him and find a new toy to play with. Now that that dream was a reality, he couldn’t push down the guilt. Shouldn’t he feel happy?

There was nothing Angel could do to protect you, but he could give you advice on how to protect yourself.

“Just do what he says. The consequences aren’t worth going against his word.”

He hadn’t planned on getting so close to you; he had tried to scare you off with cruelties, but you never minded. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake you. He tried to keep his distance and went out of his way to avoid you. You must have taken the hint and stopped bothering him like he’d wanted.

He didn’t owe you anything, so why did your absence make him feel worse? Why did he feel like something was missing?

Angel found his answers not long after.

He'd followed the muffled sound of choked sobs to your studio, pausing outside the cracked door. Against his better judgment, he peeked inside.

He’s met with the sight of you huddled in your vanity seat, knees raised to your chest, and your face buried in your arms.

“Doll?”

You raise your head at the sound of Angel’s voice, rushing to wipe away tears. You greet him with the best smile you can manage.

How miserable you must look to him, with smudged mascara and puffy eyes.

“I’m sorry for bothering you so often, Angie.” With how hoarse your voice is, he suspects you’ve been crying for a while. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I just felt so alone, you know?”

He does. He knows better than anyone.

It suddenly occurs to him how much of an asshole he’s been. You didn’t deserve the shit he’s been giving you.

He'd put up walls ever since he signed away his freedom; he couldn’t trust anybody. He thought nobody could understand what kind of shit he’s been through, but then you came along. You do understand because you’re going through it.

You’re all each other has.

“Don’t cry for the bastard. He doesn’t deserve your tears.” You look like you’re about to apologize again, but he continues. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such a douchebag lately. You didn’t do nothing wrong. We’ve only got each other in this shithole.”

You smile brightly, unsure what caused the sudden change in attitude, but happy nonetheless. “Right, together, we’re not alone.”

So began your unlikely friendship.

Unfortunately, Valentino wasn’t nearly as enthused. His obsession grew to new heights when you befriended Angel Dust. This manifested itself in the form of longer studio hours and even rougher sex.

Seeing you get along on set made his blood boil. The final straw was the stupid grin you sent Angel’s way. How dare you flirt with that slut! How dare he grin back!

You both clearly needed to be reminded of your status. Since you liked each other so much, he would be happy to give his blessings. Why, he’d personally see to your union.

Later that evening, you found yourself back on set, blindfolded and gagged. The cold nipped at your bare skin. Valentino kept the studios cold to keep your nipples perked. The handcuffs keeping your hands pinned to the bed post provided little comfort.

The sound of the film crew setting up around you sent heat to your sex. You couldn’t swallow the feeling of disgust residing in your throat; how could you enjoy this? Even amongst the buzz of conversations, you could easily pick out the click of Valentino’s healed boots. You wait for the familiar call to begin filming, yet you do not find it.

It’s only when a pair of hands, strangely familiar, find their way to your chest that you realize the set began. The whole situation strikes you as strange, but what could you do anyhow? Nothing would change the outcome. In the end, all you’d receive for your curiosity would be a nasty bruise.

So you brush off your worries and focus on the sensation of soft hands groping at your chest, teasing your nipples. You can’t help but lean into their gentle touches; the familiarity comforting.

The way they glide across your skin—as if searching—you wonder if they’re blindfolded too. Shivers run across your spine as they spread your legs, the cool air kissing your core. The bed shifts as your film partner settles between your thighs, their hands never leaving you.

Fingers prod at your entrance, sinking in easily. Your head spins at the sudden intrusion. As they finger and stretch your hole, you struggle to maintain composure. Each motion was intentional and practiced. You could feel the slick gather below you in a thick puddle. Somehow, they knew how to work you just right.

Droplets of pre-cum smeared against your skin as their cock brushed up against your thigh.

Unable to wait any longer, you tried lifting your hips away from their fingers. You wanted more; you wanted to be filled.

Your desire clouded any creeping shame or embarrassment. You never wanted this; why shouldn’t you enjoy the pleasure being given?

The hand lingering on your hip stills you with surprising strength; another set of hands you didn’t know they had pushes your thighs up to your chest. Desire clouds your thoughts, never once questioning the owner of said hands.

They guide their cock to your entrance, driving it in without warning—the sudden stretch takes your breath away. Though easier to accommodate than Valentino’s, you still find yourself pushed past your limits.

Little time is given to adjust; their pace is rough but controlled. Waves of pleasure burn through you.

Your moans and pleas are swallowed up by the gag. Tears of pleasure and pain gather in your eyes, darkening the fabric of your blindfold. It hurts so good; the intensity building in your core threatens to snap. A particularly rough thrust sends powerful shockwaves throughout your body.

They shudder against you, their pace stuttering for only a brief moment. They were too busy changing their own bliss. You writhe against your binds as the heat within tightens once more, all too soon. Your pleas for clemency are muffled.

Valentino watches with great interest, languidly stroking his own length as you're brought back to the edge of pleasure. You were so sensitive and expressive.

His favorite slut being forced to use his personal toy wasn’t a sight he thought he’d enjoy. He’d initially been reluctant, only convinced by the masses demanding your collaboration.

Now he couldn’t wait for the reveal—to see the despair of fucking your only friend. Commanding his toys to fuck like dolls was fun; maybe he’d do it again some time.

He watched closely as Angel’s hips stuttered, pace becoming erratic, and fingers pressing deep into your thighs. The heat of his climax sends you over the edge. With your ears ringing and your heart pounding, you feel dizzy. Darkness swallows up your vision.

Valentino makes note of your limpness, suddenly struck by an idea. He strides over to Angel, leaning down to whisper in his ear.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with my toy?” He didn’t miss the way Angel tenses. “Well, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

Wasting no time, he wrenched the blindfold off.

Angel’s reaction is more than he’d hoped for. Horror and disgust flash in his eyes as he scrambles to pull out of you. He tumbled off the bed in his urgency and crumpled at Val’s feet in despair.

Angel can feel his stomach in his throat, panis rising.

“Aw, did you not like my gift?” Valentino mocks him, relishing in the pitiful display. “Well, too bad. Pick yourself up and get ready to do it again.”

For a moment, Angel is unresponsive. He has to do that all over again? He has to violate you? He can’t do that to you; it would break you.

Buzzing under the thick layer of disgust creeps darker desires: to touch and tease your skin, to sink into your warmth. To do it all over again.

He doesn't notice the way his dick responds, but Valentino certainly does. How unexpected!

“Holy shit, are you hard again? Does the thought of raping your friend turn you on that much? I wonder what your friend will think?” He can taste your fear and anguish already. “Let’s not waste any time, then.”

Angel's fear is palpable and thick. He doesn’t want to lose you. When you open your eyes, the little sanctuary you've built together will never be the same.

You should feel something, but you can only feel empty as your only friend splits you open against both of your wills. Averting his eyes, he rocks into you. Valentino’s voice hardly registers at all.

“Don’t act so shy, Angelcakes. Go on, fuck them with your eyes like you usually do. If I don’t see some eye contact, there will be consequences for your dearest friend.”

With your eyes connected, you can’t pretend anymore. This is happening. This is real.

You only have each other, but together you created a nightmare you can’t escape. At least you’re not alone—closer than you’ve ever been.

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mha-platonic-yanderes · 1 year

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Hello I really love your works! If it’s alright with you I would like to request a yandere platonic izuku and bakugou where the reader (adopted, who is four years older than the boys & is in college) is izuku older quirkless sister. Izuku is incredibly overprotective and possessive of his older sister as she was the only one who believed in him when he was quirkless as a kid and believes that his sister is weak due to her short height and quirkless status. Bakugou is jealous of Izuku because he believed that the reader should be his sister instead and that the reader should support him and not izuku. The reader’s personality is quite similar to bakugou but tame who happens to have a strong dislike on heroes. Thank you for your time!

Your boys were exhausting, even though you would never tell it to them.

Always fighting, arguing. Trying to see who was better and more well-deserving of what they got in life. Honestly, you started tuning them out years ago, after their fights interrupted your study time.

Honestly, it's the only reason you got into this school and away from them. Full ride, due to your quirkless status and the effort you put in academics. Was it easy? No. But it's going to launch you into your professional life with a leg up.

Though, you probably should've been paying attention, because who they're fighting over is you.

"She's my sister! You hold no claim to her."

"I can protect her better! I'll be the best fucking hero and she'll be so grateful that I'm making the world safer for people like her."

"You hate quirkless people. How would she care for you?"

"I don't hate her."

"That still doesn't mean she loves you like she loves me."

"Take that back!"

"She's my sister."

"Fuck you! Die!"

You turn up your music, drowning them out. Honestly, winter break can't end soon enough.

#i try to not describe the reader physically #as more people can relate to them #which is why the reader also is mostly gender neutral #but you can imagine them as being as short!#platonic yandere mha #platonic yandere bakugou #platonic yandere izuku

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boundinparchment · 4 months

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If my reader characters had no personalities, no backstories, nothing, I’d have no fic. Because they’d have no motivations. No challenges. Nothing to overcome.

Rocks for brains is what they’d have.

Characters have impact on the story, on the world. I’m so fucking sorry you have no imagination, no empathy, no ability to recognize what’s exists for the sake of the story and what you can take or leave as far as projecting.

#I do my best to make sure I at least don’t describe actual physical traits #certain things like hairpins can be taken or left #a character wearing a certain dress can be taken or left if you want to imagine something else idc #but I never describe specific features because they don’t even fucking matter unless the reader is intended to be a certain way #And I know maybe it isn’t for everyone to read reader inserts anyway #but like go read a fucking book and tell me you agree or disagree with like fucking Holden Caulfield #like maybe you don’t have to be able to project 100% maybe the author doesn’t know you!!!!! Maybe write for yourself!!!!!!#I wanted a fic with religious corruption and to share it with a friend so I’m gonna write it!!!!#That’s how that WORKS #the fucking entitlement of TT is gonna give me a heart attack one day istg #not everything is about you the individual who no one fucking knows!!!! You are a spec of dust my friend!!!!!

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pttucker · 5 months

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He couldn't even guess the vastness of the Status felt from that voice. He glanced to his side and saw that all the Great Dokkaebis, including Baram, were prostrating towards the front as well. Someone was standing in front of the 'Plate of Revelation'. Bihyung hid his shivering and slowly raised his head. And that's when he realized it. So, that was it, then… Now, he understood it. That creature was the absolute being that ruled the <Bureau> and controlled the <Star Stream>. The 'King of Stories'. The King extended his lengthy and pale hand to stroke the wall while slowly opening its mouth. [The 'One Story' that decides the next world will now be chosen.]

What in the world?

So the Dokkaebis literally have the rest of the Last Wall / Final Wall?

Which is weird because everyone keeps saying that Dokja has the largest fragment yet the Wall they have "could not be measured due to its sheer, immense size."

Unless it's an entirely different wall, I guess, but that seems unlikely considering we just went from Secretive Plotter wanting Dokja for his piece of the Last Wall to Bihyung seeing the Dokkaebis' Wall. But anything is possible with ORV.

Or maybe "largest" isn't measured in literal size but by like thickness or volume or something?

Because you'd think that their wall doesn't have all of the same text as Dokja's? Like, why wouldn't they tweak things more if they could literally read all of TWSA and kind of follow along with what Dokja is doing? Supposedly they can't "interfere" (they've been doing quite a bit of interfering throughout the story imo) but they could do things like "it looks like he's in this area for this secret item and we don't want him to have it so we'll make a sub-scenario to encourage other Incarnations to go after it."

And obviously only Dokja's Wall has his own personal narration and thoughts because, again, if they could literally read his mind at all times...

Or maybe it does have all of TWSA but they can't interpret it like he does? Like, the Constellations have had the Plate of Revelation for ages but it doesn't do the same thing as the Fourth Wall at all even though it's obviously directly connected to it or a literal piece of it.

Granted, when Secretive Plotter got to the Wall it seemed like it was literally the word for word beginning of TWSA...

Which, again, interesting that the Fourth Wall instead showed the word for word beginning of ORV when "speaking" with 1863rd Joonghyuk. Though, now that I think about it, ORV is lowkey kinda 1863rd/3rd Joonghyuk's story while TWSA is Secretive Plotter's story so maybe that has something to do with it???

And idek where to start with "the 'One Story' that decides the next world will now be chosen." Next world??? Like next worldline??? And chosen by who? Them? Or by the victors of the Final Scenario? And if it's by the victors then why did Secretive Plotter just run into the wall when he finished instead of moving on to "the next world" that he helped create? Who is even in the next world? Is it like I've thought previously, where the whole story just starts over regardless of Joonghyuk's regression?

As usual, idk what's going on. The Dokkaebis and the Wenny people are the most mysterious beings in this whole novel. I knew Secretive Plotter was shady back in freaking Chapter 92 but I still have no idea how the Dokkaebi King plays into all of this in Chapter 450.

But hey! Our man Bihyung got a promotion! A very ominous, probably very dangerous promotion, but a promotion! You go Bihyung!

#I love the quick blink and you'll miss it mention that the sparks are made out of letters btw #I assume the sparks are Probability and while Probability is very obviously our suspension of disbelief (or lack thereof) or plotholes #or whatever you'd like to describe it as AKA the literal probability in a single narration #it's cool that it's literally physically made up of letters if you're able to actually SEE it properly (likely where it's strongest)#orv #orv spoilers #orv liveblog #orv novel chapter 450 #omniscient reader's viewpoint #bihyung #the fourth wall #the last wall

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prettyblondguys · 1 year

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A Woman's Touch

a short drabble with Aegon and a plus size wife reader :)

Warnings: mentions of cheating, masturbation, a handjob, ejaculation, think that's it. The proofreading is in the pudding (there is no pudding).

"I assume you are fine with me seeking pleasure from others as well?" Aegon turned to look at you, standing by the castle doors with his cloak on, the hood of which was pulled up in a futile attempt to hide his identity. You had caught him right before he left the castle, headed for where you knew had to be one of the pleasure houses he was rumored to frequent. "Excuse me?" He looked at you incredulously, lilac eyes flashing from under his hood. "If it is fine for you to defile our sacred bond," you said matter of factly, your head held high and arms crossed in front of you, "then it should be fine for me, also. There is a saying: What is sauce for the goose, is sauce for the gander."

Your marriage had been strictly political, arranged without care for your mutual objections. You, the daughter of one of the wealthiest noble families in the North, were to make the future king seem more respectable, to give heirs when the time came. And he in turn was to provide for you and those heirs, and more importantly, provide respect and protection for your family's name as the whispers of a coming war grew. Neither of you were happy with the decision, and you hadn't touched since the bedding ceremony. Two moons have passed and you were thankful his seed hadn't found purchase.

"That's different," Aegon huffed, like a petulant child. Which is the exact reason you were glad to not be with his just yet, you did not feel like raising a child when you were married to one. But you knew he wouldn't agree to it. It was different. It was more accepted for a husband to be unfaithful and to sleep around than it was for a wife. From a man it was seen as a disrespect, but from a woman, an offense. For a woman to find intimacy outside of her marriage was the greatest public insult she could make, it would reflect on his standing and abilities as a man in a way his infidelities could never reflect on her. "You may have to visit dimly lit rooms where you pay for secrecy for your deeds," you spoke calmly, taking slow strides towards him, "but know this, dear husband," standing inches from his face, you were unbothered by the sneer that pulled at his mouth, "I would not need to leave this castle to find a man willing, if I so wished to settle the score." You knew he wouldn't agree, but you didn't need him to. All you needed was for him to know that from now on, his actions would have consequences, something you're sure he was not used to. And that must have been very clear to him, for though he scowled daggers sharp enough to cut at you, he turned and trudged back down the corridors to your shared chambers, where he was to be found every night from then on.

Sleep evaded you despite the moonlight shining in from the window and the heaviness of your eyelids, the slight movements beside you having pulled you from slumber each time you were about to succumb to its sweet embrace.

"Have you really been pleasuring yourself for an hour?" You mumble irritatedly, the movements ceasing at your words before Aegon lets out a deep sigh.

"I wouldn't have to if you had not threatened to whore yourself out to the first servant boy that looks at you." You ignore the vulgarity of his speech, too tired to point out that it was he that had been doing the whoring. "For an hour," you repeat, "where was that during our wedding night?" You are met with silence, and for a moment you think you can finally find some rest.

"I can't…" You're shocked by how small his voice sounds, tinged with embarrassment. "It...doesn't feel the same, doing it myself." You sigh and roll over to face him, eyes still closed as you reach up to spit in your hand. You hear him gasp when you take hold of him, batting his own hand away as you grasp his length, slowly sliding your fingers up and down, spreading your spit to get a smoother rhythm. You settle on a leisurely pace, slightly squeezing as you pump from his base to his tip, occasionally stopping to run your thumb over the slit on top, earning a moan from your husband. You move your fingers to trace the vein running along the underside of his member, something he apparently likes, seeing as he bucks his hips up towards your hand, his mouth hanging open as his breathing becomes quick. You're amused by the soft moans falling from his lips as you continue to stroke him, quickening your pace as you feel him start to squirm beside you, his release obviously close.

He comes with just a few more pumps, his cum painting his soft stomach in thick bursts as he cries out in pleasure, gripping the sheets while you slowly stroke him through his orgasm. You roll back over when you are sure he's finished, wiping your hand on your nightgown as you nuzzle into your pillow.

"There," you say, ready for sleep to overtake you, "now stop making the bed move."

Authors Note: Wrote this to try and get out of a writers block lol

#aegon #aegon ii #aegon x plus size reader #aegon x reader #whats that? Shes not plus sized bc I didn't describe her physically? Kinda like thin characters aren't constantly described as thin #And yet you assume they are because thin is the default?#Well guess what buddy boy #Plus sized is the default on this here blog #hotd

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mejomonster · 23 days

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I love reading the studies on potential existence beyond or outside of the body. I hate how much some of those books drone on before getting to the point.

#rant #1 hit me up if you want book names #2 i read one about research on existence after death. but a philosopher wrote it :/#so despite mentionung studies he just ranted about his philosphical proof. which fine... convince another philosopher i guess :/#but as a philosophical arguement i found it Annoying and not as useful to me the reader as a #more scientist structured discussion of the research would have been.#meanwhile theres some great books featuring equations. so Mathematical proofs for a concious universe #but 1 book spends 400 pages on experiments (cool but i wouldve liked math FIRST) then 100 pages of math and explanation #another book has math only and its 90 pages and probably my favorite theory on how the universe works #then theres an overview of experiements book. in soviet union #but its from an american tourist writer :/ so at least 60% of the text is stupid tourist Description bullshit #i dont want an Exagerated journal of adventures bitch. i want to hear what the research and outcomes and equations and evidence is!!!!#and youtube lectures? a lot of good ones on ted talks and some university youtube lectures #but theyre for general audiences so they often avoid mentioning the math (since the audience wouldnt necessarily Get the mathematical theory #) which annoys me because I WANT TO SEE THEIR MATHEMATICAL THEORY #i want them to SPECIFY WHICH OF THE BOOKS THEY WROTE IS MATHEMATICAL OR PHYSICS HEAVY IN DESCRIBING THIS STUFF #i can read physics. let me!!!! let me look at ur fucking theory so i can form a better opinion on it!!!

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feeshies · 1 year

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I feel like a goddamn weenie bc I’m reading this book about cannibalistic necrophiliac serial killers and the entire time I’m thinking “the way this book describes Asian characters in such a fetishizing way is making me feel uncomfortable…”

#like I know books like this are supposed to make the reader disturbed #but idk #the gore and obsession and stuff is fine #but I don’t think the reader was supposed to feel like they’re the one being consumed #but I’m seeing my own physical features and stuff described in the prose and yeah #7.5/10

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sideblogforcrimpy-plus · 2 years

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Heart Pangs and Wrist Sprains

I received an ask to write a Spencer x BAU!reader (fem) fic where they're best friends ft. feelings, and with reader suddenly in danger, Reid admits his feelings

3,302 words

Canon-typical violence

Pls be gentle bc it's my first reader fic, thank

“‘A narrow strip of land that connects two larger areas across a body of water’. How is anyone meant to know what that is?”

You said it to Emily, spinning a pencil between your fingers as you smacked the crossword on your desk with your other hand.

Emily lifted her chin, a nod to Spencer as he came out of the break room with what was absolutely overly-sweet coffee. You bit back a smile, realising that your timing was perfect.

“Why don’t you ask the Brain?” She grinned as Spencer walked over to you, leaning over your shoulder to look at the puzzle on your desk.

“Isthmus.”

“What-mus?”

“Isthmus.”

“That’d be great, if it didn’t conflict with six across.” He stared for a moment, then a smile crept onto his lips.

“It might conflict with what you’ve put at six across, but not with what six across actually is.” You leaned to the side in your seat, turning your head to look up at Spencer. He was holding his coffee in two hands, but lowered one hand to tap at the other word you’d written down.

“This should be ‘metamorphic’.” You looked between the puzzle and him, then shook your head. Emily laughed, pointing at the pencil in your hand.

“Good thing you weren’t using a pen, huh?”

Spencer picked up the eraser from your desk, holding it out for you. Your fingers brushed his when you took it, and you resisted the urge to just hold his hand instead.

“Thanks, nerd.” You grinned at each other, but then he shook his head.

“I think you mean ‘the Brain’, right?” He looked over to Emily, and she laughed again. You shooed him away before fixing your answers.

You’d agreed to lend a hand to the local police while waiting for forensics to see if they could lead you any closer to the unsub in your case. Hotch had asked you about it, and you’d readily accepted. The case the unit was on was hard, and everyone was feeling the stress. You thought that helping them would help clear your mind. Would help you step back to see if you were missing anything in the big picture you might currently be too close to.

It was relatively easy - they’d already done most of the legwork, and you were providing a little guidance. You were invited to go in for the takedown, an unnecessary courtesy that showed their gratitude since it wasn't a bureau case.

It was going smoothly, up until the unsub and you had fought, your weapon getting knocked away in the scuffle. You’d been pushed down the stairs soon after, but it was conveniently where your gun had fallen. The unsub didn’t know that your wrists were burning with pain; they only knew they had a gun pointed at them, and their crimes weren’t so bad that they’d risk getting shot to try and run.

You called in the local officers, not letting on that you were growing more concerned about your injury until he was out of sight.

You called the team after, letting them know of the success, but also that the medic on scene was saying you had one likely sprained wrist and one with a possible scaphoid fracture.

You expected Hotch’s order of desk duty for however long the doctor ordered, but that didn’t lessen the annoyance of it.

Forensics had come through before you’d even been able to get back to the station. Or the hospital, for that matter. You’d had the first responder put splints on your wrists, but denied the ride back to the hospital to start treatment. You’d been given an update that the team was about to close in on the building the unsub lived in. Well, they weren’t an unsub anymore, but you hadn’t taken note of their name.

You planned on watching the takedown, making sure you knew everyone was fine after, and then would go get checked out.

You were waiting with local police inside the police perimeter, the block almost fully closed off by now. Garcia was saved from doing possibly illegal data retrieval by the local council providing the building plans without hesitation. The unit had gone over them, and you’d watched from the sidelines. You were able to help with things like this still, but you wanted to avoid Hotch’s attention on you since he was angry at you delaying medical treatment even temporarily. That and the team had more experience in this than you did, so sitting out wasn’t detrimental, and gave you a little more experience still.

They’d gone in, and it was eye-opening for you to be on the sidelines like this. You’d always thought that when people were told ‘we’re trying to catch a killer, and that’s more important than your shop being open right now’, that people would agree. But there were business owners and customers heckling the police alongside angry drivers complaining about redirected traffic.

You saw your phone ringing, and smiled when you noticed it was Garcia. Before answering it, you cast around, looking for a quieter place. There was an alley just outside of the police perimeter, and you headed for it as you greeted Garcia.

“What do you have for us, Pen?”

“Y/N!The building plans I was sent are wrong, there were illegal renovations done and I didn't realise and advised you guys from the plans I was given. And when do I ever not get the information myself? I always get it myself, because-”

"Garcia, deep breath. What are you trying to tell me?"

"There's another exit from the building!" Dread filled you as Penny's words were accompanied by the sound of a shoe scraping on the pavement behind you and pressure at the back of your head. "So he could have, or probably would have, been able to escape without you guys knowing. And I'm so, so sorry I didn't catch this sooner."

You pressed your lips together as you heard the click of the safety being turned off of the gun being pressed to the back of your head.

"No, Penny, it's not your fault. I mean it." If you were about to die, you were at least going to go out trying to lessen the guilt she'd undoubtedly feel. "It's great you even found out there had been changes made. I'm always so impressed with you. Every day."

"Not that I don't love the compliments, dearest, but I haven't heard you share this with the others yet?"

"I'm outside. In the alley by the bakery." Your head was pushed forward by the gun, probably in anger for your location being given away. A warning you knew you should heed.

"Oh, right! How're your hands, hon? Wait…" Her sweet voice took on a shade of worry as she continued. "But that's right where the- the-"

"I know, Garcia."

"Oh, Y/N,-" the phone was pulled from your hand and thrown, making you hiss at the pain of your injured hand and wrist.

“You got your cuffs with you?” Frustrated with yourself and getting increasingly scared, you moved slowly in the hopes Garcia would be able to get the rest of the team to you before this situation went further south. About six feet south, actually, was the cause of rising fear you were trying to shove back down to a workable level.

“Yeah, yeah I do. Back pocket, under my jacket.” You waited to move until they’d fished them out and asked you to bring your hands behind your back, about to cuff yourself at their request.

“Take those off.” You felt him poke one of the splints, then an accompanying jolt of pain.

“I’m injured, they’re-”

“-Probably not more important than your life, right? Off, I don’t want you slipping out of these.”

You were trying to dance the fine line between hopeful slowness and ‘could be killed out of impatience’ slowness. He roughly took off the splints, and not long after, the cuff clicked painfully into place over one of two swelling wrists. The unsub made sure to tighten it further after snapping them over your other wrist. You breathed deep, letting out the breath slowly to try and control the pain as you were jerked further into the alley. If you dragged your feet too much and fell, it’d be a risky gamble. Especially with the safety off on a gun in the hands of a trigger-happy killer.

You looked back out the other end of the alley, where just around the corner was a whole group of armed local police that could help.

Seemingly noticing the direction of your eyes and thoughts, the unsub jerked the chain of the cuffs and pressed the gun to the top of your neck, just beneath your jaw.

“You make a peep, and it’ll be the last thing you ever say.”

He stayed there for a moment, ensuring you’d stay quiet, before pulling you both forward again. You were being dragged between buildings for what felt like ages, but may have only been a minute or two, when you were interrupted.

“Hey!” The unsub wrenched on your cuffs, causing you to curse as you were positioned in front of him protectively. You clenched your jaw when you saw Spencer and Hotch holding their guns high, stopped a few metres from the two of you.

“You let me and the nice lady go, or I’ll blow her brains out.”

You were mouthing ‘take the shot’, but Spencer’s head shook almost imperceptibly in answer.

I can’t hit him without hurting you.

You knew it. He was strong, the unsub, but small. Standing behind you, he was effectively fully covered.

“You shoot her, and you’re not leaving this alley alive.” Hotch’s voice was strong and firm, he’d been in this situation too many times.

“If I don’t get out of here with her, I go straight to jail. I get a feeling once I’m there, they’ll decide to keep me, you see. And I’m not keen on being a kept man.” His bravado hid most of the nervousness in his voice, and you’d be impressed with his efforts if the cuffs weren’t biting into your wrists. And also if the gun weren’t guaranteed to be making a semi-lasting impression with the force of him pressing it into the side of your neck again.

“You think you’re going to walk out of here with a federal agent hostage? I think you know that your best bet is making a deal.”

The unsub snarled, pulling you a step backwards. The step was mirrored by Hotch and Spencer.

“Don’t you move!” He yelled, and you winced at the volume of it right at your ear. His arrogant countenance slipped as he realised he couldn’t fully escape. Even if he did kill you, he wouldn’t make it out of this. You only hoped he thought jail wasn’t a worse fate than death. Torn between the two, he keened, the hand holding the chain of your cuffs twisting nervously and bringing a fresh wave of pain. He brought the hand holding his gun up to rub the side of his head with the base of his palm, taking another hesitant step back. When the gun was no longer pressing at your skin, your eyes flashed to Hotch and Spencer. Spencer’s eyes were looking at something behind you for a moment, whereas Hotch jerked his head to the side.

Move.

With only a second to brace yourself for the inevitable hurt, you quickly crouched, ducking to your left. The barest moment later, a shot rang out from behind you, and the unsub’s body rocked forward into yours, pushing you forward with him falling to the ground on top of you.

You let out a cry at the awkward angle and pull at the constraints on your wrist, worsened by the weight of the man above you. Spencer holstered his weapon as he ran towards you, but Hotch only lowered his while he ran. They pulled the unsub off of you, and while Hotch got out his own handcuffs to subdue the man, Spencer pulled you up. He got the keys from your pocket and freed you, then pulled you into his arms. Derek and Emily came up from behind you, and while you didn’t know which one took the shot, you thanked them both regardless. Thanked all four of them there with you. Spencer nodded at Hotch after the older man looked at the two of you, taking it to mean you were okay enough for him to leave. He and Derek manhandled the unsub out onto the street beyond and into a waiting police car while Spencer and Emily helped you stand. You saw his shoulder had been shot from behind.

You didn’t want to cry. You knew that it wasn’t a sign of weakness, but a release of too many emotions. You’d even heard Spencer talking about how the chemical makeup of tears was different depending on the emotion behind them, but it still didn’t stop you feeling embarrassed when they were running down your cheeks.

Everything hurt, and you’d been handcuffed with your own fucking cuffs, no less. Emily rubbed your shoulder, talking quietly.

“I’m going to ring Garcia, make sure she knows you’re safe now.” You smiled at her, and she gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze before walking away.

Spencer put his hands on your shoulders then, looking you over with worry and something else in his eyes.

You held his gaze for a moment, but let yours fall to your feet, shame heating the tips of your ears.

He didn’t say anything, but slid his hands down your arms, getting a gentle hold of your forearms just beneath your elbows. He lifted your arms up, pulling your jacket sleeves back to look at your wrists.

“You should go to the ambulance waiting out by the police cars.” His voice seemed fragile, like a thin layer of glass or slate.

“I should hand in my badge.” You looked at the marks left on your wrists, and didn’t know whether the anger or the shame was taking up majority in your mind. Spencer breathed in sharply.

“I know you’re the newest to the team, and that you’ve never been through something like this, but…” His thumbs rubbed the spot beneath your elbows, and his head dipped a little so he could try and look at your eyes.

“We’ve all been caught in some way or another by an unsub.” Guilt joined the mix, sudden and almost breath-taking. Hankle.

“Spencer, I didn’t mean-”

“I know.” His grip tightened momentarily on your arms. “I know. When someone else gets injured, or caught, it’s not their fault. They did everything they should have. That they could have, and it’s just a terrible thing outside of their control. But when you’re caught? You did everything wrong. Why didn’t you just notice that little thing? Why weren’t you faster, why weren’t you stronger? Smarter? And it’s a shameful thing caused by your failure. Does that sound about right?”

Your breath caught before you let out a sob you couldn’t hold any longer. His words were soft, almost a murmur, but were heavy and all too relatable. You couldn’t speak, so you nodded. He moved, bringing your arms around him before he let go of them to wrap his own arms around you. For the first time since you walked into the alley, you felt safe, secure. And a little bit better. He rested his head on your shoulder, seeming to hesitate before speaking again.

“I thought I was going to lose you. I was so scared of it, Y/N. So scared you were going to be taken away.” He swallowed, his hold around you tightening in a not-unpleasant way.

“When Garcia told us what had happened, I thought I’d lost any chance of being able to have terrible movie nights with you. Of more moments like where you ask me to help you with cross-words I’m sure you could finish on your own, but always hope you’ll keep asking me. More times like when someone chooses a horror movie when we’re at Garcia’s or Rossi’s and you hold my hand, getting closer and closer the more scared you get.”

You’re at risk of emotional whiplash now - these are moments that stand out to you in beautiful and painful ways. Where you cherish the closeness you and he have, but are hurting desperately for there to be more to each of them. Where you hold his hand for those scary movies, but can’t hold him in bed when trying to sleep that night.

Where you do cross-words in the office and get his help, but you know it would be so much sweeter to be doing those at home with him, coffee waking you up as you sit side by side at the table before work.

Where you try to convince Spencer to stay and watch one more old and terrible monster movie with him, so he can share more facts about practical effects and laugh with you, and you can watch him in those moments where he is untroubled, and joy makes him so beautiful to you it hurts, only for the two of you to say goodnight and part ways.

“So scared, Y/N, that you’d be taken away before I could tell you how I really feel.”

Your fingers clutched his shirt, and you knew in that moment that what you felt wasn’t one-sided. He nosed at your cheek, and you withdrew your arms from around him to hastily and somewhat painfully dry your eyes.

He’d pulled back a little and noticed you wincing. His hands moving to your elbows once more, he pulled your arms down a bit. Then he cupped your cheeks in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears.

“I love you, Y/N. I know that we’ve been friends for a long time. That we’ve never gone past that point, and that it might feel like too strong a word considering that, but it’s true. I love you, and I’ve been holding that for too long.”

Your hands were in front of you, resting against Spencer’s chest. They hurt far too much for you to do much more than leave them there, fingers spreading out slightly to smooth Spencer’s shirt. You watched them as you curled them in the fabric a little, using the concern for the incredible bruising to try and counter some of the elation you were feeling - you needed to be at least a little coherent right now.

“Spencer, I-” You looked up at him, and were caught off-guard by the emotion in his eyes. Stunned, you held his gaze for a moment.

“I know.” He said. He moved slowly, letting his intentions be obvious before closing the gap between the two of you. His lips were soft, slightly dry, when they pressed to yours. His nose bumped yours as he tilted his head slightly and kissed you again.

Footsteps in the alley near you had you two pulling apart slightly, and Hotch came around the corner.

“Y/N, I’ve got first aid waiting for you.” He looked between the two of you, the corner of his mouth twitching in the barest, controlled smile.

“They’re not impatient, but you shouldn’t delay it too much longer.”

You laughed a little, giddy at the kiss.

“As much as I’d like to stay here kissing you, Agent Y/L/N, I’d like to see you treated for your injuries more.” The two of you shared a small smile, and he kissed your forehead before moving to put his hand at your back, leading you out to the waiting doors of an ambulance.

#idk how to title things but this seems good enough #Spencer Reid x reader #BAU!Reader #Female!reader #But I kept descriptions out of it I think so like yah it's gendered but not physically described #I finished this at 12:22am after work and DND so if there are errors so be it and no there aren't #If something stands out to you (positively or negatively) then pls let me know!#Reblogs my beloved #criminal minds fanfiction #shoutout to Winterbourne bc I was listening to them the whole time I was writing big thank #Criminal Minds fanfic

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