#That was my genuine thought seeing the silhouette | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

darkmatilda · 2 months ago

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𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐟𝐟 | 𝐬.𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: spencer needs your help examining a crucial piece of evidence...but the moment he sees you, his mind goes blah blah blah...proper name, place name, backstory stuff...

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬/𝐭𝐰: spencer reid x diva!chemist! female reader, same reader as in pick your poison but you don’t need to read that first—there aren’t any major references, suggestion that the reader engages in casual hook ups, reader has a belly button piercing and a described outfit, spencer's pov only

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2k

𝐚/𝐧: requested by @trulymadlydarling it was slowly gathering dust in my inbox 😭 sorry!

"I think the threshold of my lab isn't exactly the best place for camping."

A woman's silhouette cast a shadow over Spencer as she appeared right above him in the dimly lit hallway.

Spencer sighed in frustration and hauled himself to his feet. As he brushed off his pants, he kept his eyes off the woman in front of him.

"Well, I didn't think you'd make me wait fifty-eight—"

"Oh, just say the hour. Is rounding numbers really that hard for you?" she scoffed, her voice carrying a trace of genuine curiosity. She swiped her access card, unlocking the door to the lab. With her back turned to him, he took in her appearance—an oversized fur coat draped over her shoulders, a designer handbag hanging from one arm. His gaze drifted downward, and to his surprise, he noticed…pajama pants and slippers?

"You should be grateful I even bothered to show up at this hour," she added.

"This is really important," Spencer replied as she led him inside.

She moved through the space with effortless familiarity, heading straight for the light switch. Well, this was her domain, after all—the place where she spent most of her days.

"I don't care," she replied. "Unless you've found proof that Marilyn Monroe was the Zodiac Killer all along—then, well, I care a little. Honestly, you have no idea how much you owe me for showing up..."

He rolled his eyes.

"Should I be thanking you on my knees, or...?"

"I could have been busy. I could have been out with the girls at a club. I could have been having the night of my life..."

"I get it, you made a huge sacrifice answering my request, but can you now—"

"I could have been in bed already. My own. Or not my own," she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Though in that case, I wouldn’t have picked up."

Spencer simply sighed. By now, he was used to it—the way most of their conversations followed the same pattern. How she always set the pace, steering the direction as she pleased. How she sometimes deliberately ignored his words and didn’t care if it made her seem rude. How, in general, she didn’t care what impression she left on others.

He had witnessed it countless times, found it irritating every single time, and yet—every single time—he kept the conversation going. Funny.

She switched on only one of the lights, leaving the room bathed in a soft twilight. Her handbag landed on the long counter beside one of the microscopes, and she tossed her fur coat next to it, completely unconcerned about knocking something over.

Sometimes, he watched her with quiet fascination—the effortless confidence in her movements—and wondered if she had ever, even once, smacked her hip against a doorframe. Or stubbed her toe on a cabinet. Those small, mundane humiliations and everyday mishaps simply didn’t seem to fit with who she was.

He tightened his grip on the plastic bag he had brought with him, the one containing something that needed to be examined. The team didn’t know about it yet.

The thought, the theory, had quite literally yanked him out of sleep. He couldn’t function without checking this lead immediately. But he knew that if he went through the lab, he’d have to wait until morning for the results…so he decided to ask for a friendly favor.

Okay friendly was a big word.

They had known each other for a few months, worked together on several cases, gone on a date, slept together.

Not necessarily in that order.

He was just about to open his mouth, say something, hand her the bag… when, for the first time, he actually saw her in better light than the dim glow—or rather, lack of it—in the hallway. Against his own will, his gaze started its journey over her.

From the slippers on her feet, up the loose pajama pants that ended just below the piercing in her navel, the black camisole with thin straps, to her face—completely free of makeup.

Until now, he had only seen her in two versions. One was her usual, elegant work attire. The other was her evening look—form-fitting, designed to turn heads and keep them there.

On second thought, there was also a third version. Without clothes.

But he had never seen her like this. Casual, comfortable, dressed for nothing more than wandering the walls of her own apartment.

She lifted her arms to tie her hair into a ponytail, and her shirt rode up slightly.

“If my piercing fascinates you that much, I can give you my piercer’s number,” she offered dryly, a fleeting smirk on her lips as she caught his stare. He immediately snapped his gaze back to her face, cursing internally when he realized he probably looked like he had been caught staring. Which, of course, he hadn’t been. “Excellent work. Full professionalism. Experienced hands…”

"I need you to check this stain," he interrupted, raising the bag.

They had been talking too much, and he really needed to know if his suspicions were correct.

She stepped closer to take the bag from him.

“Is this a crucial piece of evidence, or can I touch it?”

“You can touch it…”

She stopped just a step away, shifting her weight onto one hip and tilting her head to get a better look.Spencer instinctively straightened, feeling a strange tension along his spine.Earlier, he had been looking at what she was wearing. Now, what caught his attention was how she looked.

There’s a certain kind of beauty you never quite get used to, no matter how often you see it. The kind that, every time, knocks the air from your lungs for just a second—that fleeting disbelief that someone like this actually walks the earth.

She had it. She radiated it.

And she was just a step away.

She took the garment out of the bag. It was a red turtleneck sweater. She lifted it higher toward the light, furrowing her brow as she examined the stain.

Spencer’s gaze fell on her beautiful face, her eyes shimmering slightly, her lower lip slightly pursed in thought.

Suddenly, she scoffed, snapping him back to reality.

"Mystery solved, and I didn’t even need a microscope," she said, shoving the sweater back into his hands. As he took it, his fingers brushed against hers, catching him slightly off guard. "It’s foundation. I’d recognize that stain anywhere. So, hooray, happy to help, no need to put me in the case report, have a good night, and see you—"

He grabbed her wrist before she could step away, stopping her in place.

"This isn’t a joke," he said, his voice dropping, tinged with sudden irritation.She raised an eyebrow at both his tone and the way he—unintentionally—closed the distance between them. As usual, she looked him straight in the eyes, and as usual, it was hard not to be drawn in. But he tried, because this case was really consuming his thoughts. "Listen, I called you because I need someone to actually test it. Not just glance at it. It'll only take a moment, and then you can go back to crawling into bed with whoever you want. Can you do that?"

The second-to-last sentence made her expression shift slightly.

For a moment, they stood there, unwavering, eyes locked without so much as a blink. Then, the corners of her lips tugged upward—just barely. But it felt more like a forced gesture, an attempt to maintain her carefully practiced expression, rather than a sign of genuine amusement.

"Alright," she replied softly. Not to be mistaken for shyly. There was nothing shy about her, a fact he was reminded of constantly.

"I��ll test it, since it matters so much to you. And then I’m going back to bed." A slow blink before she yanked the sweater from his hands. "With whoever I want."

Why did swallowing suddenly stop being an automatic reflex and turn into something he had to consciously work through?

"That’s great," he said shortly, dryly. He could feel himself slipping into the trap again, letting her toy with him. "Have fun."

"I will."

With that simple assurance, she walked away, and the very particles of air around him seemed to loosen, finally allowing him to breathe again. He turned after her instinctively, the way a swivel chair spins when someone sets it in motion.

She crossed the lab table and leaned over an empty workstation—empty, like all the others. The entire width of the counter separated them now, along with the return of cool detachment to her face. Slowly, Spencer rested his hands on the smooth surface, watching as she got to work. Watching as her hair bounced slightly with the shift in position. Watching as her jaw tensed in concentration. Watching as she leaned over the workstation slightly.

"So," she began flatly, not pausing her work or even looking at him.

Spencer gave his head a small shake, realizing that this time, he really had been staring. At least she hadn’t seen it.

"What exactly am I testing?"

His gaze drifted to her again.

"Something related to the case."

"Wow, I never would've guessed."

He was too distracted to mentally slap himself for how pathetic he was.

"Uh, it’s not exactly groundbreaking," he began.

He could focus—he just had to try hard enough. He just had to clear the lingering trace of her scent from when she’d stood so close. Had to shake off the echo of her words. With whoever I want, she had said. The more he thought about it, the more accurate it seemed. He firmly believed she could have whoever she wanted. With that confidence. With that face. With that body…

"That’s why I’m checking it after hours. Just, you know…backstory stuff…"

A sound escaped her lips—somewhere between a scoff of disbelief and a startled laugh. She looked at him—no, she pinned him with her gaze.

"Backstory stuff?" she repeated, her lips curling into a smile. Not even a mocking one anymore. She was genuinely amused. "Did you, Doctor Spencer Reid, when asked what the evidence pertains to, actually respond with backstory stuff…?"

“No, I…I mean…”

“Oh God, it’s a good thing they don’t put you in front of cameras. Imagine you, at a press conference. Just casually dropping backstory stuff on national television…”

“I can handle myself in front of cameras,” he clarified, feeling an odd warmth creep up the back of his neck. “But there aren’t any here. And besides, I didn’t realize you wanted me to recite the entire case file from memory…”

“That won’t be necessary,” she said with another amused snort. “Backstory stuff is actually a surprisingly accurate term. You know, very professional.”

He rolled his eyes, feigning irritation, though what he really felt was more akin to embarrassment.

“Speaking of professionalism, maybe you could get back to work?” he suggested.

“I don’t have to,” she replied, flashing him a sweet smile. “I already checked everything. And I was wrong. It’s not foundation—it’s nitroglycerin.”

Spencer’s jaw practically hit the floor.

For the first time since stepping into the lab, his mind was running at full capacity.

"Nitroglycerin? Are you sure?"

"Well, I don’t get these things wrong," she said, almost offended.

"Nitroglycerin," he repeated in a whisper.

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Suddenly, everything made sense.

She leaned her elbows on the table, watching him with interest.

He wanted to kiss her.

No—he did not—

"Thank you," he blurted out, her words becoming background noise as his thoughts raced. "Thank you for coming. This…this really helps. I have to tell the team—"

He turned toward the door, dazed by the realization.

Something stopped him.

"Spencer," she called gently.

She didn’t seem angry that he was leaving so abruptly. If anything, there was a certain soft glint in her eyes, a quiet fascination with his sudden revelation. Standing in the doorway, he looked at her one last time, feeling himself freeze in place again. He said nothing, sensing that she wanted to say something instead.

She tilted her head slightly.

"You owe me a favor," she said.

There was something about the way she said it—something that sent a slow, deliberate shiver down his spine. Not even a shiver. More like a careful march of cold fingertips down his vertebrae.

So, naturally, he did what any grown man with an IQ of 187 would do.

He parted his lips slightly and nodded.

#spence reid #spencer reid criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds fic

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chibieggplant · 8 months ago

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Accidentally Exposed

One Piece boys accidentally walking in on you getting changed

With Ace | Law | Penguin | Luffy

Female reader

Ace

The door to your cabin swung open with an audible creak, revealing a sight that instantly ignited a blush that rivalled the inferno he so effortlessly commanded. His footsteps faltered mid-stride, dark eyes widening in both surprise and embarrassment as he took in the sight of his crewmate in a state of half-dress. You were facing away from him, your back exposed save for a dangerously small towel wrapped loosely around your chest. Sunlight streamed through the porthole window, casting a halo around your damp hair and highlighting the freckles scattered like constellations across your back. Ace felt his heart pounding in his chest, a mix of surprise and unbidden desire coursing through his veins. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure as he shamelessly took in every tantalizing inch of your form.

At the sound of your door opening you pivot swiftly on your heels to face the intruder. “Ace!” You squealed in alarm. Unfortunately, your hasty reaction had the opposite effect of preserving modesty. The momentum sent the flimsy towel slipping precariously, coming open slightly and exposing even more of your sun-kissed skin. Granting Ace a fleeting glimpse of the enticing expanse of your body below.

Ace's eyes widened comically, his heartbeat hammering wildly in his chest, both from the shock of intrusion and the tantalizing image seared into his brain. "Shit! Y/n! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to barge in!" He stuttered, hastily turning around and slapping a large palm over his burning gaze.

The silence stretched tensely for several seconds before your muffled giggle drifted across the room. Ace peeked over his shoulder, relief flooding through him like a cool ocean breeze seeing you readjusting your towel. "It's fine, really, could have been worse," you assured him sheepishly, your cheeks tinted pink.

"Yeah... Yeah, of course." He cleared his throat awkwardly, turning fully around now that modesty was mostly restored. His devilish grin returned tenfold, however, at the prospect of teasing you about this later. "Just didn't expect our serious doctor to be hiding such lovely… assets, underneath those boring old lab coats," Ace finished smoothly, trying his best to diffuse the lingering awkwardness with his signature charm. His eyes danced teasingly, but there was no malice behind his words; only genuine appreciation for beauty caught unexpectedly.

You blushed deeper at his comment, rolling your eyes fondly nonetheless. "You're incorrigible," you muttered, but your lips curved upwards into a smile that betrayed your amusement.

Law

The door to your cabin slid open without warning, admitting a tall silhouette that paused mid-step as its occupant took in the unexpected sight before him. Law's gaze flickered across your half-dressed form of an open shirt and black underwear, taking in the delicate curves of your thighs and the smooth expanse of skin exposed by your loosened clothing. He quickly schooled his features into indifference, though a faint blush still stained his cheeks. The corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back the urge to smile at your flustered state - it wasn't every day one caught the crew's resident nurse off guard like this.

“C-captain! Sorry, I thought I locked my door,” you stammered as you scrambled to find your trousers and button up your shirt.

"My apologies," he rasped out, voice uncharacteristically low as he turned away, giving you the privacy you deserved. Despite his outward calmness, however, Law couldn't help but feel his heart rate pick up slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. Your relationship had always been one of mutual respect and professionalism, yet seeing you vulnerable like this stirred something deep within him. As he stood there, listening to your hurried movements while you dressed, Law found himself struggling to maintain his customary cool demeanour. Once he heard the soft rustle of fabric cease, signalling that you were decent again, he finally allowed himself to turn back towards you - though he carefully avoided meeting your gaze directly. "Is there something you require assistance with?" You asked as Law attempted casualness, leaning against the doorframe with his hands tucked into his pockets.

You stood before him now, fully clothed in your usual white medical attire, yet Law couldn't help the heat pooling low in his abdomen at the memory of your exposed skin. He cleared his throat again, trying to dispel the unwanted arousal threatening to betray his composure further. "Ah yes, I merely wanted to discuss..." Law paused, mentally scolding himself for forgetting why he had entered in the first place. "...the shipment of medical supplies. It seems some items might be missing," he lied smoothly, inventing an excuse on the spot. Your eyes narrowed suspiciously, clearly aware of his flustered state, but didn't comment on it further. Instead, you sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Alright, let me check my inventory." Law nodded curtly, watching your retreating figure as you walked towards your desk. He mentally reprimanded himself for his lack of self-control; you were his crewmate and friend, not some tavern wench for his lewd fantasies. Yet even as he berated himself internally, Law couldn't help but steal furtive glances at the sway of your hips beneath the fabric of your uniform, reminding himself to keep it professional while he discreetly adjusted his trousers that betrayed his growing desires.

Penguin

A series of clumsy thuds preceded the abrupt entrance of Penguin. The door to your cabin swung wide open, revealing your flustered crewmate mid-stumble, his hat nearly toppling off his head. You yelped, hands instinctively covering your breasts as you spun around to face the intruder. Penguin froze in place, his bugged eyes taking in the sight before him - your half-clad form framed perfectly against the dim cabin lighting. Your discarded shirt lay forgotten on the floor, exposing a generous amount of skin.

"P-Penguin!" You squealed, cheeks burning redder than Ace's devil fruit abilities could ever manage. “Wh-what do you want?" You demanded, trying to sound stern despite your obvious embarrassment.

"I-I'm sorry! I-I thought, uh...L-law- I mean the Captain sent me!" He stammered out, his cheeks darkening in embarrassment. Quickly averting his gaze and pulling down his hat, Penguin's vision fixated on the ground below him, determined not to peek despite his body begging otherwise. He could feel his cheeks warming up with mortification as he fumbled for words to diffuse the awkward silence that followed.

Penguin continued to ramble nervously, clearly regretting his lack of thinking that led him to burst in on you during such an intimate moment. "I-I swear, I didn't mean to intrude, y/n! It's just, I uh, I didn't think!" You stifled a chuckle appreciating his attempt at a flustered apology despite your own embarrassment. "It's fine, Penguin. Just give me a minute to finish changing." You muttered, your voice strained as you scrambled to cover yourself properly. The cabin filled with a tense silence broken only by the rustling of fabric and Penguin's shallow breaths. “O-of course,” he stammered as he stumbled out of the door. His mind whirred with thoughts he shouldn't entertain about his fellow crewmate, but it was difficult when presented with such a sight. Y/n, usually so composed and professional, looked incredibly endearing in your current state of undress. Shaking his head to dispel the improper thoughts, Penguin mentally scolded himself. *Focus on your job, idiot!* His inner voice chastised him. *You're supposed to protect her dignity, not ogle at her!* Feeling slightly guilty but still unable to completely banish the enticing mental image, he waited patiently outside your door until you called out for him to enter again. He was undoubtedly going to find it challenging to look at you in the same way from now on.

Luffy

As the Straw Hat Pirate captain barged into your cabin without a second thought you barely managed to cover yourself before Luffy's curious gaze landed on your half-exposed form of you standing in your underwear. His expression morphed from surprise to pure childlike interest, his eyes sparkling with innocence as he blurted out, "Whoa y/n! Is this your new swimsuit?" Luffy's nonchalant question stood in sharp contrast to the mortification you felt, your cheeks burning crimson. Attempting to maintain some semblance of dignity, you quickly covered yourself up with a discarded robe, "Luffy! How many times have I told you to knock?" He simply grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head - a gesture that never failed to make your heart flutter despite the circumstances. Unfazed by your embarrassment, Luffy continued to ogle you openly, his simple curiosity untouched by the societal norms that dictated modesty. You found herself torn between laughter and frustration at your captain's antics - typical Luffy you thought internally rolling your eyes.

Still grinning brightly despite your attempts at maintaining decorum, Luffy stepped closer, his curiosity getting the better of him. He reached out tentatively towards your partially covered shoulder, wanting to touch the intriguing material of your ''swimsuit'. Before you could protest further, Luffy’s fingers trailed your bra strap, his touch warm against your exposed skin. His voice was filled with genuine wonder when he asked again, "This must be so much cooler than regular clothes though right?"

You bit back a smile despite yourself, unable to stay mad at him for his earnest fascination. You shook your head softly, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "Uh, yeah Luffy, it keeps me cooler," you mumbled, averting your gaze shyly. Luffy tilted his head, looking thoughtful for a moment before nodding enthusiastically. "Then it must be super comfortable! And it looks super cute" He beamed, giving you a genuine compliment that made your heart skip a beat.

Your captain's enthusiasm was infectious, causing you to find yourself smiling despite your earlier embarrassment. "Thanks, Luffy," you said warmly, feeling a wave of affection wash over you at his kind albeit naive words. Luffy bounced on the balls of his feet excitedly, seemingly thrilled by this newfound discovery. "Hey, maybe we should go swimming together! We could show everyone your new swimsuit!"

Your face ignited once again in a brighter shade of scarlet at Luffy's suggestion, your hand instinctively pulling the robe more securely. "Luffy! These aren't swimming clothes!" You spluttered. Luffy paused, tilting his head to the side as he processed your words. His eyes narrowed slightly before realization dawned on him. "Ohhh," he muttered comprehendingly, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the situation clicked.

You watched as Luffy’s cheeks flushed slightly, mirroring your embarrassment as he realised. However, quickly Luffy's grin returned full force, lightening the atmosphere in the cabin instantly. “Sorry y/n, but it looked comfy enough for swimming!” He laughed lightly, causing a smile to tug at your lips. “Well, whatever it’s for,” Luffy continued, “You look great!” He added, his compliment genuine and heartwarming. You couldn’t help but laugh at his oblivion, “Thank you Luffy…now can you please get out of my room and let me finish changing?” You struggled to hold back your smile while gesturing toward your door.

#one piece #anime #one piece x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #penguin #penguin x reader #heart pirates #luffy #luffy x reader

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choerypetal · 10 months ago

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Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings.

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere.

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine.

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan.

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today?

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home.

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse.

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.”

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud.

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show.

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight.

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home."

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said.

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him.

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle.

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won.

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw.

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #homelander the boys #homelander imagine #homelander smut #the boyz x reader #the boyz x you #the boyz smut #the boyz scenarios #the boyz x y/n #the boys #homelander x oc #homelander fanfiction #the boys s4 #the boys x y/n #the boys x reader

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divadepreshawn · 17 days ago

Text

𝑨𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒏 𝑺𝒖𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓

Aaron Hotchner × fem!reader ×popstar

part one ,part two, …

reader is a very famous singer

You were running, your heart racing, your lungs begging for a little more air – all you could offer now were quick breaths as your brain panicked. The screams echoing behind you made it hard for you to think straight, were they fans or paparazzi? It doesn't matter when you have to decide between running to your death or hiding.

All you wanted for that afternoon was coffee and a chocolate cake, you thought you could do it alone – how naive.

With nowhere to go you crossed the street without looking – getting run over didn't seem like such a bad option now – and entered the first store you saw. Looking around quickly your eyes landed on a man in the children's section – he was tall, wearing an impeccable suit, his expression was serious, but he was in the children's section so it couldn't be that bad. Without thinking twice you ran across the store until you stopped in front of him.

“Please, I need help.” You stood between him and the clothes rack, your eyes slightly wide and your breathing labored.

“What? Who is-?”

“Please, just stay still.” You grab him by the shoulders, positioning him so that his silhouette completely covers yours.

He opens his mouth to protest but quickly closes it as he analyzes you. You are panting, your hair disheveled, your hands shaking slightly and your body is tense. You really needed help. He stays in the position you put him in and doesn’t move a muscle.

The screams start to get quieter, your body relaxes and you release the breath you didn’t even know you had been holding.

“Thank you, you saved my life.”

He doesn’t answer right away, keeping his posture firm over you.

“Does this happen often?” he asked, keeping his voice low so as not to attract the attention of anyone in the store.

You let out a laugh, looking over his shoulder to see the store window, the street seemed calmer now.

“All the time, but it’s usually more controlled, I’ve never had to turn strangers into human shields” you pulled away, now looking at him properly for the first time, and damn, he’s handsome.

“You should walk around with some security, it doesn’t seem very safe to me to walk around alone.”

“I know, I have one, but I thought I could buy a damn coffee by myself.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not approving of the idea.

“Doesn’t seem like a very smart plan to me”

“Oh, you swear Sherlock?”

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.

“Was that supposed to be an insult?”

“Okay, you helped me and I’m being an idiot.”

You didn’t mean to be rude to him, you were just frustrated that you couldn’t do something as simple as buying an afternoon coffee without the place filling up with people.

Don’t project your frustration onto him, you think.

“Excuse me, what’s your name?”

He seemed to be considering whether it was worth sharing this information with you. You couldn’t judge, if the situation were the other way around you probably would have run away already.

“My name is Aaron.”

He’s crazy enough, apparently.

Aaron just stood there staring at you as if silently asking, what about you?

“Excuse me, don’t you know me?” you asked, genuinely confused.

“Should I?” he asked, his brow slightly furrowed.

You opened your mouth in surprise. What was natural for you – people knowing you, knowing your name, sometimes even what you had for breakfast – meant nothing to him. It was almost surreal.

“You really don’t know me?”

“No,” he crossed his arms, “But you don’t seem upset, so I don’t see the problem.”

“Are you kidding?” you laughed, “That’s refreshing.”

It wasn’t that you didn’t like being famous, on the contrary, you loved it. It took years of sacrifice to get where you are, training and training until exhaustion. But it’s times like these, when you try to do something simple – like buying a coffee by yourself – and you can’t, that fame shows its price.

“Really?”

He looked as confused as before, and as if it were possible, more handsome than he had been two seconds ago. Your gaze quickly dropped to his hand, he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring. Would the universe be so kind to that extent?

What did you have to lose? You already had the no, now the only way was to go after the humiliation.

“Although it’s sad when a handsome man doesn’t recognize me.”

He blinked in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as if he didn’t know how to respond to that.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m kidding.” You reassure him, suppressing a smile. “I interrupted your shopping, I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to apologize, I still don’t know what I came to buy anyway.”

“You..don’t know?” you asked amused, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who just goes out to browse the stores.

He hesitates, his gaze shifting between you and the clothes on the rack.

“It’s okay, you just met me, you don’t need to tell me.”

“How much do you know about children?” The hesitation is still palpable in his voice.

“Um..I’m the older sister and I used to be a babysitter, so I guess that’s enough.” You answer confused, trying to remember “Why?”

“I need a gift for my son to take to a party, but I have no idea what to get him,” he confesses, sounding frustrated.

This man just got a thousand times more handsome. Okay, focus.

“How old is he going to be?” You ask, already scanning the clothes around you.

“Seven.”

“Okay, let’s pick out some neutral clothes. Do you mind if I keep this on?” You point to the hoodie and sunglasses.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t want to attract a horde of zombies.”

“Are you trying to badmouth my beloved fans?” You feign an offended expression. They can be scary when they want to be, but you won’t admit it out loud.

“Me? Never. Although I wasn’t the one running away from them a few minutes ago.”

You cross your arms, feigning indignation, but the amused gleam in your eyes gives you away.

“Are you a career management expert now? Next time I’ll let forty people run after you and we’ll see what your first reaction will be.”

“Touché,” he laughs, raising his hands in surrender.

You grab your phone, remembering to tell your security guard where you are and asking him to come pick you up in twenty minutes.

“What do you work with?” You look away from your phone and look at him.

“What?”

He looks at you with a look that says, seriously?

“You’re famous, right? So what do you do?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a singer,” you reply with a smile.

“Have you ever won a Grammy?” He asks, his tone not arrogant, but curious.

“Honestly, I think the legacy that remains counts more, but yes, i have Grammy' s.”

“Grammy' s? Like, more than one?”

You smile at him.

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?” You let out a dramatic sigh. “I already thought you were handsome, you don’t need to convince me.”

He stops laughing, looking disconcerted.

God can’t blame a woman for trying.

“I think this outfit here is nice.”

You change the subject quickly, not that you didn’t want to blatantly hit on him for the rest of the day – something you could easily do – but he seemed so disconcerted by your advances that you didn’t want to be inconvenient.

“Yeah, this one looks nice.” He picks up the outfit, examining it.

Chris – your security guard – enters the store looking for you. Man, I need to give him a raise, you thought.

Quickly looking over the counter, grabbing your store card and a pen, you write down your personal number and hand it to Aaron.

“You saved me today, if you need someone to pay your bail, I’ll be that guy. Of course, it will depend on the reason you were arrested, I still have my ethics.” You smile “If you want tickets to a show I think it’s easier to get, thanks anyway.”

He takes the card and puts it in the inside pocket of his suit.

“I don’t plan on getting arrested, but I appreciate the offer.”

Halfway there you turn to him again.

“Aaron?”

“Yes?”

“I’m serious, text me, I’d love to meet you again.”

You head back to Chris, leaving a stunned Aaron behind.

No one can say you didn’t try.

And God, for the next few days you and your phone would be one body.

◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇◇

English is not my first language are sorry for any mistake

This will probably become a mini series

If you have any ideas to contribute to the sequel I will be happy to receive them :)

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch fanfiction #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotch x reader #pop star #reader!diva #criminal minds x reader #alien superstar #reader!popstar

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ivyues · 4 months ago

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Reconciling Comfort: pt.2 of Stray Kids' reactions to their S/O refusing a hug

Part 1 -> Rejected Embraces and Heavy Hearts

Bang Chan

The apartment feels oddly still as you stare at your phone, debating how to text him. You’d assumed Chris had gone to the studio like he planned, leaving the tense air of the argument behind to clear his head. You hate how things were left, hate the way his face crumpled as he turned away.

Finally, you decide to get up. While typing out a message you walk to your living room but out of the corner of your eye you see a silhouette sitting on the couch. Your heart jumps as you glance up.

Your boyfriend is sitting there, headphones on, his laptop balanced on his knees. His brow is furrowed in concentration, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard.

The sight startles you. “Chris?” you blurt out, breaking the silence.

He looks up sharply, pulling his headphones off with one swift motion. “Oh—hey,” he says, his voice soft, almost hesitant. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You blink, still processing his presence. “I thought you went to the studio. Why are you still here?”

He rubs the back of his neck, glancing away sheepishly. “I didn’t want to go in case… you wanted to talk to me.” His words come out rushed, like he’s second-guessing every syllable. “But if you don’t – if you want me to leave, I understand. I’ll go right now—.”

He immediatly closed his laptop, as if to pack up, but you stopped him with a quick shake of your hand. “Nonono, I’m glad you stayed,” you said, moving to sit beside him.

“I’m sorry,” you say softly, your voice heavy with sincerity. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I know physical affection is important to you, and stepping back like that… I didn’t mean to shut you out like that. I just—” You pause, struggling to find the words. “I wasn’t ready at the moment, but it doesn’t mean I didn’t care.”

His expression softens, a mix of relief and lingering vulnerability. “Thank you,” he says quietly. “That means a lot to me. But… you don’t have to feel obligated, okay? I don’t want you to do anything you’re not ready for, even if it’s just a hug. I’m not upset about that, I promise.”

Chris hesitates before continuing, his voice low. “And… I’m sorry too. For the argument. I think I let my emotions get the better of me. I wasn’t trying to put all that pressure on you. I just – sometimes I’m not the best at explaining what I mean.”

Instead of answering, you lean into him, wrapping your arms around him. It’s warm, grounding, and the tension that had built up between you dissolves. Chris lets out a breath he seems to have been holding and hugs you back, his arms encircling you tightly.

Lee Know

An hour passes, the weight of the day easing slightly as you reflect on Lee Know’s words and his quiet presence. You finally gather the courage to seek him out, hoping to mend the small gap left by your earlier rejection. The sound of gentle clatter of utensils lead you to the kitchen.

There he is, focused on the task at hand, the light from the stove casting a warm glow over his side profile. He’s stirring something in a pot, his movements precise yet relaxed.

When he senses your presence, he glances up. His eyes meet yours, and for a moment, no words are said. The hurt you feared would linger is replaced by a soft understanding, though his brow lifts in slight surprise.

“Hey,” you say quietly, stepping closer. “I’m sorry for earlier. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just… I needed a bit of time to digest my day.”

His expression softens, his lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. But before he can respond, your stomach betrays you with a loud grumble.

He blinks in surprise before breaking into a chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. “Well, I guess you’re not just digesting your day – you’re starving too,” he teases, setting down the spoon. “Have you even eaten?”

You shake your head sheepishly, and he lets out a mock sigh of exasperation. “Unbelievable. No wonder you’re feeling down. What am I going to do with you?”

Before you can reply, he grabs a couple of plates and starts dishing out the food he’s prepared. You watch him, the way he moves with care, the way he’s still here, doing this for you, and it makes your chest ache in the best way.

“Thank you,” you say, the words carrying a weight that goes beyond the meal. “I really don’t know what I did to deserve this – to deserve you.”

He pauses, turning to meet your gaze again, his eyes filled with something tender yet teasing. “Oh, don’t get all sappy on me now. Just eat.”

You hesitate, biting your lip. “Actually… before we eat, can I ask you something?”

He tilts his head. “What’s that?”

You step closer, your voice soft. “Are you still up for that hug?”

His lips twitch into a grin, though he narrows his eyes in feigned disapproval. “Now you want one? After I offered earlier? You know my hugs are exclusive, right?”

You roll your eyes, but before you can defend yourself, he’s already pulling you into his arms, wrapping you in warmth and familiarity. The scent of his cologne mixes with the faint aroma of the food, and for the first time that day, you feel like you can truly breathe.

“I missed out earlier,” you whispers, your voice gentle but playful.

Changbin

Hours later, after giving you the space you seemed to need, Changbin cautiously approaches your room. The quiet hum of the house feels heavier than usual. He pushes open the door gently, only to find you sprawled out on the bed, passed out.

Changbin’s expression softens as he steps closer. The tension on your face is still visible even in sleep, and it tugs at his heart. He sits on the edge of the bed, careful not to disturb you, and studies your features for a moment. A sigh escapes his lips.

After a while, you stir awake to the dim light form outside. Blinking blearily, you notice Changbin sitting in a nearby chair, scrolling absentmindedly on his phone. He looks up as he senses your movement, offering you a gentle smile.

“You’re awake,” he says softly, setting his phone aside. “Feeling any better?”

“A bit.” You sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes. The weight of the day still lingers, but his presence is grounding. “I’m… I’m so sorry, Binnie,” you say suddenly, your voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to shut you out earlier. You had a tough day too, and instead of being there for you, I made it worse.”

His brow furrows with concern as he shifts to sit beside you. “Hey, no—”

“No, please let me finish,” you interrupt, tears welling up in your eyes. “I just… I’ve been so burned out lately, and I know that’s no reason but I took it out on you. That’s not fair. You deserve so much better than that.”

Your voice falters as you break into quiet sobs, the stress of the day finally overwhelming you. Without hesitation, Changbin pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly as if to shield you from your own thoughts.

“Shhh,” he whispers soothingly, resting his chin on your head. “It’s okay, baby. You don’t have to carry all of this alone.” His hand strokes your back in slow, comforting circles. “I know you’ve been going through a lot. I just want to help you, not make things harder.”

You cling to him, his warmth melting away some of the heaviness in your chest. “I’m sorry,” you repeat, muffled against his shoulder.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs, pulling back just enough to cup your face in his hands. His thumbs gently wipe away your tears. “I love you, even on the days when it’s hard to show it. And I’ll always be here, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

Hyunjin

Later that evening, the cool night air brushes against your skin as you sit on the balcony, your gaze lost in the vast sky above, dotted with countless stars. The events of the day weigh heavily on your heart, but the stillness of the night gives you a moment of solitude, a chance to reflect.

The sound of footsteps breaks the silence, and you don’t need to turn around to know who it is. Hyunjin’s presence is unmistakable and you feel the space between you stretch even farther. He stands by the door, as though testing the waters, not wanting to disturb the fragile silence that exists between you two.

“I’ve been thinking,” he finally says, his voice soft and measured. “I don’t want to make you feel like you have to forgive me right away. But I need you to know I’m here, no matter how long it takes.”

You glance at him then, his words tugging at something inside you. The sincerity in his eyes doesn’t erase the hurt, but it reminds you of the person standing before you. Slowly, you lift up the blanket that’s shielding you from the chill of the evening. You shift slightly, creating a space beside you, a silent invitation for him to join you.

Hyunjin hesitates for just a moment before he slides closer, wrapping himself in the blanket with you. The quiet is comfortable now, not as heavy as it once was.

Minutes pass, neither of you speaking, but the tension between you seems to lessen. Eventually, you find yourself leaning closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as the stars above seem to sparkle brighter in the stillness of the night.

You’re not ready to forgive him – not yet. But as the night stretches on, you realize that the hurt isn’t as sharp as it once was. It hurts more to be apart. Right now, this moment, sitting together in silence, feels like the only step you can take.

Han

Han was pacing quietly in the living room, trying to distract himself from the worry that had been growing in his chest since your refusal to be held. His eyes flickered to where you’d been earlier, feeling like a puppy abandoned by its owner. He couldn't help but wonder what you were thinking, what you were going through.

Then, suddenly, a sharp sound sliced through the quiet. His heart leapt in his chest, and before he could think, he rushed toward the kitchen.

When he burst into the room, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, crouched on the floor amidst the sharp shards of a broken glass. Your expression was a mix of shock and something darker, like the weight of everything inside you had finally spilled over.

"Omg, are you okay?!" Han asked urgently, his voice trembling slightly. His eyes wide, quickly scanned you for any sign of injury, but it wasn’t just the glass that had him panicked – it was the look in your eyes, distant and vacant, like you weren’t fully present.

You shook your head, looking down at the shards scattered around you. "I... I'm fine," you murmured, but the words didn’t sound convincing to him.

Your breath caught, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "I'm such a mess," you said quietly, a shaky exhale following. "I don’t even know why... I just... everything feels so broken right now, and I don’t know how to fix it."

Han’s heart ached for you, and he didn’t hesitate. With a gentle, almost tender tone, he spoke. "It’s okay to be a mess," His eyes never leaving you, he crouched next to you. "You don’t have to have everything together. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere."

You let out a long breath, the tension in your body easing just slightly as you allowed yourself to lean against him. Neither of you spoke for a while, the stillness of the moment offering a rare kind of comfort. You could feel the warmth of his body against yours, a quiet support, like he was holding you together.

Eventually, Han reached out with his free hand, carefully pushing the glass shards to the side, making a little space between you and the mess. "We don’t have to clean it up right now," he said softly, his voice gentle. "We can just be here."

For a moment, you just sat there, on your cold kitchen floor surrounded by the shards of one of your favorite glasses, your head resting against his shoulder, letting the quiet soothe the chaos inside your mind. The world outside could wait.

Felix

Felix sat in the airport terminal, his phone clutched tightly in his hands. The din of travelers blurred into white noise around him, but all he could focus on was the blank screen he fiddled in his hands. He had checked it at least ten times in the past minute, hoping for a message from you – a lifeline to soothe the ache that had been growing since your last conversation.

The past few days had been tense, the effortless flow of your texts reduced to short, clipped exchanges.

"Still nothing?" Chan’s voice broke through Felix’s thoughts as the older member settled into the seat beside him.

Felix shook his head, a small, resigned sigh escaping him. "I don’t blame them," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the screen. "I just... I hate leaving like this, you know? I don’t want them to think I don’t care."

Chan placed a reassuring hand on Felix’s shoulder. "They know you care. Sometimes, people just need time to process."

Felix nodded, though the unease remained. He knew Chan was right, but the uncertainty gnawed at him. What if time wasn’t enough?

A soft buzz interrupted his thoughts. His heart leapt as he saw your name flash on the screen. Hesitating for only a second, he opened the message.

"Hey. I hope you have a safe flight. Let me know when you get to the hotel? If you want, we could call."

Felix read the text twice, his chest tightening with a mix of relief and longing. It wasn’t everything, but it was enough. Enough to feel like a small bridge had been built between the two of you.

Chan caught a glimpse of the soft smile spreading across Felix’s face and leaned back in his chair, giving a small nod of approval. He didn’t say anything, but the respect he felt for the bond between you two was evident in the quiet way he patted Felix’s back before standing up.

The flight was long, but the thought of hearing your voice made it bearable. When he finally arrived at the hotel and dropped his bags, he dialed your number without hesitation.

-----

The days passed slowly, but eventually, Felix was home. His heart raced as he opened the door. The familiar scent of the place hit him first, grounding him, but it wasn’t until he heard your footsteps that everything felt real.

You appeared at the edge of the hallway, your expression a mix of hesitation and warmth. Felix froze for a moment, his breath catching as he tried to read your face. Then you smiled – small and shy.

Closing the distance between you, he wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I missed you so much,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You held him just as tightly, your fingers threading through his hair. “I missed you too, Lix.”

It wasn’t just a hug; it was a reconnection, a renewal. It felt like the first time all over again – the warmth, the electricity. And in that moment, Felix knew you would both be okay. Even with the heavy talk standing in front of you, he believed that you'd both find your way through it.

Seungmin

The following day, you wake up to the soft light filtering through the blinds, your heart still weighed down from the emotions of yesterday. You go about your day until you find a small, neatly folded note on the kitchen counter, its edges creased from being gently set down. You recognize Seungmin's handwriting immediately.

The words are simple, but their meaning strikes deep:

“I know yesterday was hard. I’m here when you’re ready. Take your time.”

You feel a wave of warmth and gratitude surge through you, but also a familiar pang of guilt. His kindness, his patience – it almost feels too much, yet it's exactly what you need right now. You let out a breath, the tension you didn’t even realize you were holding releasing just a little.

Later, when you meet with Seungmin after his practice, your heart feels lighter but still raw. His usual bright, confident demeanor is softened by something deeper today. You catch his eyes and notice the faint hint of uncertainty behind his smile. He’s waiting for you, allowing you the space you need, just as the note said.

As you both settle into the familiar quiet, the words you’ve been holding back finally spill out, soft but genuine.

"Thank you for giving me space," you say, the gratitude in your voice clear. "I needed it, but I don’t want you to think I don’t appreciate you."

Seungmin’s expression softens, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I just want to make sure you're okay," he replies, his tone sincere. "And if you need me to be closer or farther away, I’m fine with either. You don’t have to do anything until you’re ready."

After a moment of silence you ask “So… how would you feel about being a little closer right now?" Your words trailing off as you look at him, hesitant but hopeful. Your eyes search his, a hint of longing behind the question.

Seungmin's smile widens, though his expression remains gentle, and he shakes his head slowly, his eyes warm with understanding. "I think we’re already close enough," he says, his tone teasing but kind.

Without another word, he opens his arms, and you step into his embrace. The hug is quiet, comforting, and without the pressure of anything more.

I.N

You collapse onto the couch, your phone in hand, feeling a growing sense of isolation. The time passes, and you find yourself scrolling mindlessly through social media, trying to distract yourself from the emotional weight pressing on your chest. Each swipe seems to only deepen the discomfort, the posts making you feel even more alone as the world around you continues on without a care.

Your phone buzzes suddenly, and you glance down at the notification. It’s from I.N. The message is a simple meme – a picture of a dog wearing glasses with the caption: "Me when I try to act cool, but I’m actually an emotional mess."

A small chuckle escapes you, your heart lightened just a little by his attempt to cheer you up. It’s just a silly meme, but somehow, his gesture makes everything feel a bit more manageable.

The phone buzzes again, and you read his next message: "If you ever need to vent, I'm here. You don’t have to carry it all alone."

Your fingers hover over the screen for a moment, and you begin typing. "I’m sorry for earlier… I just don’t want to drag you down."

Almost instantly, a reply comes: "You could never drag me down. Let me know if you want a hug. I’m always here for you, okay?" Attached to that message was a GIF of two cartoon animals with big, fluffy arms stretching out in an exaggerated hug.

Your heart softens, the words hitting a place deep inside you that you didn’t realize was aching.

Without a second thought, you push yourself off the couch, phone still in hand, and head towards him. When he sees you standing there, his face brightens, and he opens his arms, welcoming you into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry I pulled away earlier,” you whisper against his chest, the weight of everything from the day slowly melting away as you allow yourself to lean into his comfort.

masterlist

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mister0ctopus · 4 months ago

Text

Server Room (2)

series - jeon jungkook

Pairings: IT!JK x Reader

Summary: Your new IT guy is quiet and shy. But when you accidentally caught him doing something in the server room, while moaning your name, you just had to pretend you didn’t see that, right?

Ratings: 18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Warnings: Explicit language, Mature Contents, Tension, Panic Attack, Alcohol, Claustrophobia

Au/Genre: Office au, Mini Series

Word Count: 3.4k

Note: i initially wanted this chapter to be a little spicy, but the waves of missing bangtan kept crashing over me as i was writing it... and i couldn’t help but be a softie. 😩 nevertheless, hope you all still enjoy this chapter. please let me know what you think. thanks for being here. thanks for reading, love you all <3😊

🐙 Masterlist / AskMeeeeee!!!

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6

You’re a rockstar.

You know it.

You’re commanding the room.

Your high-waisted skirt hugs your curves flawlessly, paired with a crisp white button-up and a belt to accentuate your silhouette.

You stepped into your killer stiletto heels, the ones that always make you feel powerful.

And like the rockstar you are, you breezed through your presentation with ease—after all, you’d poured days of hard work into it, and it showed. Jungkook's tweaks made a huge difference, and despite everything that happened yesterday, you’re incredibly grateful for his help.

The praise from your manager and colleagues felt like the cherry on top of a grueling quarter, and you couldn’t help but bask in a well-earned wave of pride.

After all, being in Sales is not for the faint of heart. It is a demanding job that requires sheer will and resilience.

But you're grateful to have met genuine friends at work.

The kind that makes work feel like less work.

Hanging out with them—whether it's sneaky breaks during the day or wild post-work dinners and drinks—is something you seriously look forward to. You get the juiciest gossip and fresh perspectives from every corner of the office.

“YN! Congrats on the presentation! As expected of you. You did great, babes!” Jimin cheers as he wraps you in one of his signature tight hugs, while you're making coffee in the pantry. He’s a hugger—you figured that out pretty quickly. Jimin was introduced to you by Yoongi, who you were friends with long before joining this company, and the two of you hit it off instantly.

"Thanks, Jiminie. Ugh, I almost didn’t make it today. My laptop broke down yesterday and I seriously thought I lost everything. IT totally saved me, though." You said, still feeling the stress of it all.

"Whoa, jeez... So, you met the new IT guy, Jungkook? Yoongi introduced him to us last week, I think? Said he's a friend of a friend..." He trails off, eyes following a pretty intern passing by you.

You followed his gaze, then quickly turned back to him. "Wait, he was Yoongi's friend? No, I hadn't seen him until yesterday..."

His face flashes in your mind again, and you feel a flare in your chest, and your core...

But the inked arm, the lip ring... his moans when he was—

"—coming?" Jimin interrupts, eyes narrowed, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Wha—huh?” you blink.

"I said, are you coming? Later? Dino's? Let’s celebrate that killer presentation!" Jimin grinned, practically bouncing with excitement.

"Oh! Yeah... Yeah, of course!" you laughed, a little too nervously.

"You good? You look a little bothered," he said, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Yeah! I’m fine. Just remembered something I need to wrap up today," you lied.

"Alright, well, I'll leave you to it. See you at Dino's after 5!" He winked and flashed a final grin before his Chelsea boots clicked down the hall, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You head back to your desk, trying to distract yourself with some admin work as the hours drag on. You make a conscious effort to avoid the IT room, which is easy enough since it’s tucked away at the far corner of the floor.

But your thoughts keep drifting back to the server room...

By the time the clock hits 5, you're more than ready to bolt. Bag slung over your shoulder, makeup refreshed, and a swipe of some cherry red lipstick —and you’re all set to end this interesting week.

Dino’s is the usual spot for your crew. Just a few blocks from the office, it's hosted everything from Yoongi’s promotion to Jimin finally getting his PTO approved (his boss is an ass).

You walk into the bar and spot Allie right away, waving you over with that big, excited grin of hers. You head over to their table, and give her a peck on the cheek.

“Hey girl! I heard you slayed that presentation! Congrats!!!” she says, her voice all sweet and perky, like cotton candy and sunshine.

"Thanks! I really prepared for it," you giggled, feeling proud of yourself.

"Yeah, Jimin told me! Remember what the guy from Marketing called you? The one who tried to flirt with you while obviously married? Anyway—he called you an office vixen with brains and a nice ass. Remember? I totally agree with the guy. 100%," she recalled, laughing.

You love her.

While Yoongi is like rain at night—a brooding but steady force, someone who hangs back like training wheels on a bike. He never judges, but you still tread carefully. A man of few words, but a volume of presence… a warm cup of coffee, and sound advice—

Allie and Jimin are like the sun after the rain—radiant, gentle, and warm. You’ve always admired that about them. They draw people in, like moths to a flame. Their smiles always radiate a comforting energy that makes everyone feel seen.

“So, Yoongi’s out until next week...” Jimin said, scanning the group and doing a quick headcount. “Allie and YN are here. Tae’s coming in a bit...”

Now, Taehyung… is like sunset. There’s ember in his eyes, golden sparks, a warmth that lingers long after the light fades. In those eyes, there’s another universe you can only wish to be part of, a universe no one fully grasps, yet everything he does feels strangely familiar, like a long-lost memory resurfacing. Like watching a VHS tape of your childhood.

You love them. You adore them.

“He said he’s with some guys from his department” Jimin's still on his phone, probably texting Taehyung. “… Jungkook's with them too."

You froze for a moment, your dreamy gaze at your friends quickly replaced by uneasiness.

You love them. You adore them.

It was the kind of moment that made you want to break the fourth wall, shooting a knowing look to some imaginary audience as if to say, “Are you kidding me?”, like you were in a sitcom or some made-up character.

Which, of course, you’re not.

But the thought of Jungkook coming... to this bar, was making you nervous. Your mind kept circling around the word coming, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You wanted to kick yourself for being ridiculously stupid and childish right now.

You’re not sure how to face him. You’re just glad he didn’t catch you in the server room. That would’ve been awkward, right? What would you even say to him? Like “Hey? Nice dick? Need a hand? Or rather… another hand?”

And that you still don’t know what you feel. Flattered? But also creeped out? But also turned on?

That you came so hard moaning his name last night?

Because goddamn...

Your face flushes, and you can feel the warmth in places it definitely shouldn’t be, so you force yourself to pull it together before anyone notices.

Just as you think you’ve regained control, he walks in.

Jungkook.

In black long sleeves, a few buttons undone at the top, sleeves rolled up to show off his tattoos, and dark pants held by a belt, perfectly showcasing his waist.

How does this guy have the face of an angel and the body of a devil? You don’t understand.

You take a deep breath, forcing your thoughts to calm as Taehyung greets you with a quick but tight hug. His other friends follow, entering with happy smiles, high fives, and loud greetings. As everyone settles in, Jungkook casually slides into the seat in front of you. And for a moment, you forget how to breathe. Or how to act. Because what the fuck?

“Hey,” he said, not meeting your eyes, his focus fixed on the menu he was absently flipping through.

“Hi,” you replied, your voice awkward and unsure. You tried to mask it, but the effort only made it sound even more awkward.

“Didn’t know you’d be here. Thought it was just Tae and some guys…”

“Yeah, um, Tae and the group—we come here often,” you say, your voice weak and almost whispery.

But why are you whispering?

No way were you letting him have this kind of effect on you—not when you were rocking your killer stilettos. You, cowering for a guy? Please. Sure, you saw what he did. Sure, you felt what you felt. And so what? Big deal.

You tried to regain confidence. You straightened your back.

You shoved the lingering dirty thoughts aside, reminding yourself you had something important to say.

“Hey, I know I already thanked you, but really—thank you for helping me yesterday. What you did saved me so much time, and honestly, it made my presentation a lot better. So, thanks.” Your tone was genuine, your words earnest.

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at his lips, revealing a small dimple that you definitely didn’t need to notice right now.

“No worries, glad I could help,” he replied casually, wiping the condensation from his beer glass with a napkin, then meticulously drying the table around it. For someone so effortlessly attractive, he was almost annoyingly neat.

The night deepened, and like a typical Friday night, the bar was packed. Everyone seemed tipsy now.

The group was a chaotic mess. Everyone was talking over each other, laughing loudly enough to drown out the bar’s music. Gossip, banter, and office inside jokes flowed just as freely as the drinks. You noticed Jungkook, just as engaged in the conversation, chiming in with playful jabs and high-fives every now and then.

You lost it when Taehyung stood up, dragging a protesting Jimin toward the dance floor. Jimin half-heartedly tried to resist, but it was clear the drinks were starting to work their magic on both of them.

"I don’t dance, leave me alone!" Jimin said, shoving Taehyung.

"I had a dream that in your past life, you were a popular dancer," Taehyung laughed, only to wince as Jimin pinched him.

Just as you were enjoying the chaos the two were causing, a glass of beer tipped over, spilling its contents all over your white blouse. The cold liquid seeping into the thin fabric and drenching your chest.

Taehyung and Jimin, completely oblivious to the whole incident, were now laughing and stumbling their way onto the dance floor, joining the chaotic mass of bodies in the center.

Startled, you glanced down, inspecting the damage as you saw Allie scramble around, searching for something to help with the mess.

But Jungkook was quick to react, handing you a stack of tissues.

“Here,” he said softly.

“Thanks,” you muttered, grabbing the napkins and frantically dabbing at your blouse. It was no use. The thin fabric clung to your skin, and despite the dim lights, the outline of your black lace bra was now clearly visible.

You didn’t see Jungkook swallow hard as he quickly averted his gaze to the crowd, but he felt his pants tighten, forcing him to adjust in his seat.

You stood up as you excused yourself to the bathroom. Time to salvage what you could of your outfit. And your dignity.

You stayed in the bathroom, drying your blouse with the hand dryer, the hum of the machine filling the tiny space against the loud music outside. As you stand there, your eyes catch your reflection in the mirror. Your eyeliner's a little smudged, your hair's a bit messy, in a kind of way that you like.

Your thoughts drift back to Jungkook, and how he carries himself within the group. So effortlessly cool and funny. You notice he wasn’t shy, like what you initially though he was. It’s still kinda awkward to look at him without flashes of him in the server room popping into your mind, but you’ve noticed he tends to avoid your gaze.

It’s strange though, because he’s not like that with anyone else.

After a few minutes, when your shirt feels dry enough, you step out of the bathroom, making your way back to your table.

But as soon as you take a few steps, a group of obviously drunk people shoving each other stumbles into you... and suddenly you're caught in the middle of their wild commotion. You try to make your way through, but the noise and the chaos are overwhelming, and you're shoved in every direction, feeling dizzy and helpless as you're swept along by the force of their movements.

Panic claws at your chest.

And breathing feels suddenly harder.

Just as you feel your knees begin to buckle, firm, strong hands grip your shoulders, steadying you. In one smooth motion, the man pulls you closer, his body a solid wall, caging you against the chaos around you. You glance up, the first thing your eyes catching is the lip ring glinting in the dim light, and then you realize—he’s taller than you, even with your heels.

What… Why is Jungkook here?

You feel his body jerk with every forceful bump from the crowd, each time pulling you closer to his chest. His jaw clenches with every impact, and you feel his grip on you tightens in response.

Suddenly, you feel him guide you away from the crowd. He struggles for a moment as he pushes through, but his strength is undeniable. Before you know it, he's gently steering you to a quieter corner of the bar, where there’s more space and the air feels easier to breathe again.

You close your eyes, trying to regain your breath and balance.

"You okay?" His voice is gentle but firm. He’s waiting for an answer.

You nod, eyes still shut, but words are stuck in your throat.

You hate tight, enclosed spaces, and you know things could’ve turned dangerous if Jungkook hadn’t intervened in time. A pang of gratitude tugs at your chest again.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the ringing in your ears won’t stop, and your lips and fingers feel numb. The air feels so thick, refusing to fill your lungs properly, and everything around you seemstocloseinmakingithardertobreathe.

“Hey, what do you need?” He stares at you with concern, his gaze steady and unwavering. His hands rest gently on your shoulders, his presence calm as he silently waits for you to respond.

The noise grows louder, it's suffocating, overwhelming. You can’t breathe.

Your breathing comes in shallow, rapid gasps.

Without a word, Jungkook caged your frame with his arms, weaving through the crowd toward the exit.

Air.

Space.

The moment you step outside, you hear him say, "Breathe, YN. You're okay," over and over as you manage to let more air into your lungs.

The space feels infinite, and slowly, you finally breathe freely again.

Jungkook sat silently with you in his car, the windows rolled down, letting in the cool night air.

The parking lot was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos inside the bar. The car felt like a fortress, a safe space, away from the overwhelming noise and suffocating crowd you’d just escaped.

You stayed silent, focusing on steadying yourself, grounding your thoughts with the breathing exercises you’d practiced and used countless times before.

He remained quiet, only glancing at you now and then. It was as if he knew exactly what you needed—peace, space, calm.

After a few moments, when you finally felt like you could breathe again, you let out a soft sigh and turned to him. “You saved me again.”

“Hmmm,” he hummed, sparing you a brief glance, but he didn’t say anything else.

“It’s the second time you saved my life,” you said, a light smile tugging at your lips.

“Hmmm,” Jungkook hummed again, this time without even glancing at you. His focus remained straight ahead, though there was a softness in his expression.

“Are you always this quiet?” you asked, a playful smile creeping onto your face.

“Hmmm,” he repeated, but this time, his lips quirked into a subtle smile that revealed those tiny dimples on his cheeks.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you feel a jittery sensation in your stomach. You quickly looked away.

Shut up, you thought to yourself. Shut the front door, lock it, throw away the key, and set the whole house on fire.

“Well, thank you. Again,” you said with a soft laugh. Then, in a quieter tone, you admitted, “I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t gotten to me on time.”

Jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours with concern. “Does this happen to you often? You know, attacks?”

You hesitated for a moment before exhaling slowly. “In the past... but it’s gotten better. I haven’t had an attack in a year, but... I guess what happened earlier was just too much.”

“I see…” he replied quietly, his tone thoughtful.

You nodded, finally feeling yourself relax a little more. “I feel better now. And really… thank you. I mean it—I’m truly grateful.”

Jungkook gave a small nod, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of the car and the stillness of the night.

A sudden wave of exhaustion hits, and you can’t help but let out a yawn.

“You should rest,” Jungkook says softly. “I’ll drive you home. It’s late, and you’ve had a few drinks.”

You glance at him, questioning with your eyes, as if silently asking if he’s okay to drive. He notices and reassures you, “Don’t worry. I only had two bottles, and that was hours ago. I’m good.”

Too drained to argue, you simply nod and accept his offer.

7 missed calls.

18 messages.

You finally checked your phone and quickly called your friends back, explaining what had happened and assuring them Jungkook was kind enough to drive you home.

“Here, Taehyung wants to talk to you,” you said, handing the phone to Jungkook.

He took it without hesitation, his expression calm as he listened. “Mm,” he nodded a few times, offering short, clipped answers before handing the phone back to you.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Taehyung asked for the third time, his voice laced with concern. In the background, you could hear Allie and Jimin babbling on the phone, their words slurring and pointless, as they were clearly drunk.

“Yes, Tae, I’m fine,” you reassured him with a small sigh, grateful but slightly exasperated.

After a few more exchanges of "call me when you get home," you finally ended the call, leaning back in your seat with a tired exhale.

You entered your address on an app Jungkook’s phone, your fingers briefly brushing against his as you handed it back to him. For a split second, you felt him stiffen, but he quickly regained composure, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot without saying a word.

The drive was quiet, the kind of calm that made you feel sleepier. You stared out the window, the passing buildings turning into light streaks making your eyes heavy.

You were surprised by how comforting Jungkook’s presence was—like yesterday had never happened, but between then and now, so much had occurred, and he felt… strangely familiar.

Jungkook would glance at you every now and then, but the two of you didn’t speak.

The silence spoke words that didn’t need to be said. You basked in the comfort of it throughout the rest of the drive.

The drive felt long, but somehow it went by quickly. Jungkook pulled over with ease, and he glanced at you when you unbuckled your seatbelt.

"Hey, thank you again for tonight— for everything," you say, the hum of the car steady, matching the rhythm of your heart.

He nods. Then he meets your eyes. Then he smiles.

You watch the curve of his mouth, your eyes lingering on the silver ring in his lip.

He catches your gaze, then the rest of your face, then your lips.

Your heart beats loudly now, echoing against the steady hum of the car.

And just as you thought your heart was about to leap out of your chest—

"Goodnight," Jungkook says softly, his voice low and steady, his gaze lingering on yours.

For a moment, it feels like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You manage to say "goodnight" in the faintest voice, barely audible.

You step out of the car and make your way quickly to your apartment building. Once you reach your unit and close the door behind you, you hear the soft sound of his car pulling away.

And as you settle into the warmth and comfort of your house, a deep sense of calm settles over you. A wave of déjà vu washes over you, making you pause.

You close your eyes, trying to remember when you’ve felt this way before.

And you can almost feel the steady hum of the engine vibrating through you.

Your mind drifts back to the car.

With Jungkook.

🐙 a/n: Hiii!!! Please let me know whatchu think and which part you liked, or did not like lol! I like hearing your thoughts <3 again, thanks for reading and see you in Part 3! Mwaaahh 😘 or if you have kwesjins, letmeknowww!!!

Taglist: @taekritimin123 @vantelover1306 @random-musingsss @likewtaf @jeonmaleficent @daskewl @almatiarau

🐙 Let me know in the comments if you want to be added! 😘

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tthegoldentouch · 7 months ago

Text

Pairing: Aventurine x reader

Tw: none, he's just skittish but that's understandable. Might have grammatical mistakes but English isn't my first language so whatever. The « » words are supposed to be the avgin dialect okok that's all

"Will you teach me how to speak the Avgin dialect?"

Aventurine nearly splutters out the sip of wine he was about to drink, and you observe as his whole body subtly jerks — trying to figure out if he misheard you or not.

Blink.

And yet, the only expression he sees on your face is a little smile, a hint of curiosity and optimism in those lovely eyes of yours. For some reason, he can't find it in him to appreciate that look this time.

"And why is that?" The tone of his voice is reserved, calculated, and for a millisecond, you are reminded of your job: meetings, negotiations and transaction. The air suddenly feels thicker, and although he maintains his usual smile, there's a subtle shift that suggests it may not be as genuine as it was moments ago.

"Because I….want to understand you?" You naively respond, unaware of the warnings you're triggering in his head, unaware of the amount of bells ringing in his ears. The red alarms flashing in front of his eyes are bright, and they blind him to everything else, drowning out your silhouette until he can't make out your face as a familiar one.

All he's seeing is red, red of a warning bell, red of sunset and endings, red of blood and—

"I'm not sure why you even thought that would be a good idea" a small chuckle leaves his mouth, and he shifts a little on the couch in an attempt to regain his belongings.

"After all, I don't even speak it anymore— a dead language is not something you'd benefit from learning."

"But I am a linguist" You counter, huffing a bit. "I wouldn't think a language is “less beneficial” just because it's dead. Besides, Sigonian isn't a dead language, and neither is the Avgin dialect. You are here, and you speak it."

Blink.

"What?" Aventurine grows defensive, and he shifts in his seat again; only a little. It's not okay to let others know of your discomfort, you cannot show your weaknesses. Luckily, you don't notice, and he continues carefully.

"I don't speak it— what are you saying? How could I possibly use that language?"

He picks his sentences with caution, leaving half of it up in the air for you to interpret. He can't bring himself to finish it— he can't use it when everyone else who spoke of it is presumably dead. That would only result in another restless night of futile attempts at subduing the void in his heart. Just because he knows it, doesn't mean he likes to think of it.

Aventurine does not like to remember the fact that he's the only one left of the Avgins, even though the cosmos is merciless in its reminders.

"You do speak it!!" You insist, and look into his eyes, and his eyes almost make you forget the rest of your sentence. "—You say things under your breath. When things go south, or when your catcakes do something super adorable and you can't hold a grin on your face. I've seen you multiple times, talking to yourself in an unfamiliar language. It is your mother tongue, is it not?"

Ah.

The words that escape your lips are curling into itself, flickering through the corners of his mind. I've seen you multiple times. Multiple times. Multiple times. Talking to yourself. To yourself. To yourself.

His mother tongue.

Oh, how he wishes he could talk to someone else, how he longs to talk to another Avgin in his mother tongue— in their mother tongue.

"Do I do that?" He inquires, and you affirm, still wearing a smile. Both of you have been smiling at each other, but only one of you is clawing through the walls of their mind trying their best not to leave the room right this moment. You're not an adversary, he reminds himself. You're not an enemy.

"I can't teach you that." He stares in an unusually cold tone, sending shivers down your spine. A tone Aventurine reserves for when a business deal has gone wry, for when he needs to put on his best performance and come back at the top. Unfortunately, this means there's no room for you to argue, no negotiations, no nothing.

You realize a bit too late that you've made him uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry" Apologies keep flowing from your mouth, but Aventurine can barely hear them. All he knows is the warning bells in his ears are growing fainter, and you are once more becoming recognizable, the blur in your face diminishing by the second.

"It's okay," he laughs softly, ruffling your hair to dispel the gloom on your face.

"I don't remember much anyway- I can't teach you anything meaningful, you know? I think Tanti or any of the likes would do much better for your next research material than my native language. We have a reputation across the cosmos anyway, that language can't be intriguing to people."

"Huh?" You tilt your head in confusion, "I'm not going to write a paper on it though???"

"Then what did you want to learn it for?"

"Did you not hear me? I said I wanted to get to know you better."

The feeling of discomfort is back with that, and Aventurine finds himself trying to figure out how to come up with a valid excuse to end the conversation. If he isn't careful, you'll catch on. And if you catch on, you'll keep insisting on trying to understand him, to mend your mistakes and to avoid something similar in future. Then, he'd simply have to cut you off before you go too far. And he'd rather not cut you off and keep you by his side. Yes please, thanks.

You speak once more, but this time you avert your gaze from his eyes and focus on the soft carpet beneath your feet. "If you're not comfortable teaching me, I won't insist. I apologize if I overstepped. I want you to know that my intentions were not malicious. I simply wanted to learn your language so that we could converse in it, and I'm open to sharing my own language with you if you're interested."

Ah. You've now started to speak with more formal and eloquent words than usual, a habit Aventurine has picked up on thanks to observing you for so many years. You always do that when nervous, along with averting eye contact- and you're now anxious.

"it's okay," he reassures you again. "I know what you mean. So no need to worry, hm?"

His words seem to have given you a confidence boost, because your next words catch him off guard again.

"Also, I found your language to be quite beautiful."

"....Beautiful?"

"Yes," you gesture with your hands as you continue, "it's very melodious, you know? I'm familiar with the Sigonian language, as it was one of the languages I studied during my major. However, the Avgin dialect sounds... different. Of course, you're a very quiet mumbler—obviously— and I couldn't understand much- but I've realized that the Avgin is not only is not only significantly different from standard Sigonian, but it also has a much sweeter sound. As a linguist, it's disheartening to think that this sweetness has gone unnoticed by the world."

The initial panic has completely dissipated for Aventurine, replaced by a sadness even he can't place what for. He has half a mind to laugh, and tell you that his people were sweet too, but no one cared for that either. He wants to say of course it sounded sweeter, the standard Sigonian had always been dry and lacking the warmth, any Avgin would agree with you. And yet, he dares not let the dam loose.

Instead of voicing his thoughts, he decides to observe you, as the ringing in his ears has now completely silenced. The you in front of his eyes is meek, likely because you've assumed you overstepped and made him upset. He hates seeing that expression on you: truly, especially when you shouldn't have to feel that guilt. He knows you well enough to know you're not lying, and for a split second— he entertains the idea of sharing the sweetness of his language with you, to have someone else who can understand his tongue.

He decides it's not an entirely uncomfortable thought.

It has been a few weeks since he agreed to teach you the Avgin dialect, and he still finds it surprising that he made that decision. Everything related to the Avgins and their culture is dear to him, including his people, his family, and of course, kakavasha; he protects them with all of his being. However, for some reason, he has chosen to share this delicate and intimate part of himself with you. After all, he is the last known surviving Avgin—this is more than personal; it's his mother tongue, for goodness' sake!

You've proven yourself to be a very very dedicated student, absorbing every piece of information he imparts like a sponge. Aventurine is unsure of how to teach you, as he himself is losing touch with his language thanks to not speaking it for years. Because of you, he now thinks more in Avgin and realizes how much he thought he had forgotten but still remembered, and how much he thought he remembered but had forgotten.

But it's nice, to be greeted in his language whenever you two come across each other. You're still cheerful and sparkling as before, but now you can greet him in his language. «Hello, how's your day going!!!» You ask him each time, with that accent and broken words that makes you sound childish more than anything. But Aventurine could care less about that; he's quick to greet you back each time, adding a new word so you learn something from each interaction.

You've told him that he's much much more expressive whenever speaking Avgin, but he tries not to think about it.

"Manro means bread," Aventurine informs you, observing quietly as you eagerly jot it down in your notepad. "I quite like the feel of pen and paper," you told him once, and he still can't comprehend why that's preferable to typing on a screen instead.

"Mañro?" you repeat, and he has to conceal an affectionate smile at your accent. It's unfamiliar and odd, but not disliked. Never disliked.

"Manro." He corrects, and you get it down this time.

"So….«manro» means bread and you said…«pani» meant water? So let's say I wanna talk about my lunch….«I water with bread eat?» Is that how you say it?"

Aventurine purses his lips, trying to appear serious. "No, it's «I ate bread with water.» But what's with that meal choice? That can't be good for you."

You only huff in response, "hey— I'm still learning okay!! How do you say wine?"

"Mol"

"Mol— how about wanting to drink or taste?"

Aventurine raises an eyebrow, "Zumavel"

"Okok. So…. «I want to taste wine really bad. Might die.»"

Aventurine snickers at that, turning his gaze away to avoid receiving another punch from you. Despite the fact that you've opted for this inefficient learning method—since he can't provide proper grammar lessons—the sentences you're coming up with are hilarious.

"Not quite. It's «I want to drink wine so bad that I might die»" he corrects you again, and you let out an embarrassed laugh to write the correct structure down. You've promised him you'll figure out the grammatical structure and everything to him after all. And he can't say he's not hoping you actually will.

"How do you say eye?"

"Just like how you say in standard Sigonian"

"Ohhh….I've noticed that body part names are usually unchanged in the Avgin dialect. How about warmth?"

"We call it tato" he smiles at you, and your cheeks tint the faintest hue of pink as you look away.

"«Your eyes—»" you purse your lips, thinking hard to form the structure "«-Are warm right now. Very warm.»"

Aventurine's eyes widen, and for a moment he's speechless; unable to comprehend how and why. But you're blushing, and playing with the hem of your shirt, which means at the very least you aren't lying.

«I'm afraid you've become my heart» He says under his breath, the words escaping his mouth before he can even stop them. It tastes sweet in his tongue, memories of a time long gone resurfacing. He didn't even remember that saying, up until now. And now, he has a little more understanding of how sweet his mother tongue really is.

"What does that mean?" You ask him, and he merely smiles at that.

"Nothing. I just said thank you."

A/N : gah I'm sorry for that word vomit I can't stop thinking about it....like one been thinking for months about his language and what it might mean for him now that he's (presumably) the only avgin left. My mother tongue has PLENTY of dialects, and there are certain ones that are totally different from the standard (I don't understand some of those) so I kind of projected....and other than that I hope it wasn't too bad omg

#aventurine x reader #aventurine #honkai star rail aventurine #x reader

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capslocked · 1 year ago

Text

KINKVEMBER DAY: 1

[prompt: against a wall window]

male reader x huh yunjin

5k words

You're not entirely sure where the jacket to your suit has gone.

You know you should know; it’s a rental and you need to return it in a week. But Yunjin told you to take it off, and since then, things have been... a little hazy.

More concerning - or it would be, had Yunjin not also lost some part of her attire - is what her thumbs are hooked into. Like she's peeling out the silhouette to her skin-tight, backless dress - the way she can't keep from leaning against the elevator wall. Your lips have the taste of her red lipstick all over, and her body melts with every little flick of the tip of her tongue against yours, puddles that much further when she feels your fingers curling into the folds of that skin-tight black material.

The motion to push the fabric up and over the rise of her hips is a purposeful kind of thing.

For the past hour, her skirt kept brushing over the fabric of your pants while you went from shaking hands to kissing hands to her placing yours on the hem of her dress, in the quiet space of a balcony the hotel staff had clearly marked as off-limits. A kiss behind the shell of her ear, a suggestion, a shiver.

Now, things are happening in a sort of reverse: from slow and curious, to needing more and wanting less, and suddenly, neither of you want to wait - until her thighs are spread wide apart, with your free hand slid over her smooth thigh, fingers skirting the edges of her lace, cupped over her heat - right, there. The throbbing.

"Do you have any idea what you're doing to me," is what she's asking.

"Something awful," you reply, but there's only a gasp out of her throat to prove your point. No words.

Just the look: desire clouding over the expression. The not-so-subtle display of want, need. Tongue pressing to lips and tugging along the corner. A moan, two, quieted behind the knuckle she can't quite help putting in her mouth.

You consider shoving her panties down the curve of her thighs and spinning her around - leaving her arms to brace the railing and keeping the dress around her waist while you fuck. Quick, rough.

The mental image is too nice to let it go.

You consider how much she might genuinely prefer to that to whatever she'd had in mind when she suggested you really ought see the view of the city from her room - oh, the skyline, it's gorgeous, she offered, lips tugged into a perfectly practiced little quirk that said: the view of me, on all fours, face down into a mattress as my ass swallows down your cock - I can't wait to have you.

You can feel the thought concrete itself to the base of your skull when you roll the flat of your finger over her clit and start sliding up and down between the lips of her pussy - finding her a little wet already, dripping onto the fabric in the most obvious way. When the elevator stops a few floors shy, you try to play it off by squeezing at her rib cage and tugging the fabric back in place, hiding the tell-tale lines between the fabric, just as Yunjin starts that gentle laugh from the very base of her spine. A real beautiful timbre in its sound.

But things get more muddled, admittedly, when the doors ding and the group on the other side piles through.

There's an exchange of glances, where they're asking if this is allowed, is there enough room, can they make room. One of them, in a dizzyingly plunging, strapless blue number that has you pressing your palm into the small of Yunjin's back just a little more than you have been up to that point, considers, carefully.

"Yunjin," she says, fingers brushing through the fringe of a smart-chic bob, prim cut of jet-black hair.

Yunjin shifts her weight onto the other heel. "Chaewon."

"By the looks of it," she says, and the way she looks you over has all the judgmental verve of an older sister, a real cold stare. "You've got a I'll-be-staying-in-tonight kind of vibe."

A deeper laugh now, rolling out across the backs of her teeth. "If it's all the same to you," is what you hear from her, "it'll be an early night for me."

“Don’t make it a habit,” she tells Yunjin.

“We’re just going to go enjoy the view.”

“Yeah.” Chaewon gives you one final, disapproving expression. “I bet he will.”

The elevator isn't totally silent, not for the subtle hum and whir of machinery. But everything is a lot closer now. Especially your thoughts, the way Yunjin pulls herself closer against you by a hand on the back of your dress shirt - her fingernails mapping the ridge of your spine, finding your hip bone, thumb curving back and forth against the curve of it.

The four girls at the corner are just making chatter in their corner of the lift. They've got a reservation - in name, anyway. If things were as simple as getting from the hotel to the elevator and beyond, no need for the next forty floors to pass at a snail's pace.

In fact, the four have this sort of tense, concentrated way to them that suggests otherwise - like maybe they came all this way and made that sort of promise to have the whole night end the way some things ought: alone.

"Don't stop on account of us," one of them says after a while.

Which is enough to set off this glare into the furl of Yunjin’s brows. Not her friend's intention. But they laugh it off.

When the doors scuttle open, finally, the two of you stumble out, feet not catching up to the rest of you before Yunjin has her fingers around your wrist and drags you out. Her heels - red-bottomed and not entirely flat but definitely a lot less heel-ey than others (she’s tall, she says, it makes her self-conscious), are clacking quick across marble tile until she arrives at the door of her room, pulls her keycard out of her clutch and leans shoulder-first into the door after the click and whir of entry.

She takes a step backward.

The door locks at your back when it's kicked into its frame.

The first thing you notice is her dress: pooled on the floor around the arches of her heels, cast off like a cloak or some overcoat - to be tossed aside once the sun goes down.

"Make a habit out of this, huh?" you ask in an effort to keep yourself busy - gawking's never been a good look on anyone, even with your natural gifts, the glint in your smile, all your charm - but the curves of her body are stunning, curves that start where her thighs begin, wrap around her hips, cut in at her waist, bloom from the perfectly-small-breasts that now are showing their dusky pink nipples, firm and on full display.

All of Yunjin, like this, beneath pale moonlight pouring diffuse through the fish-bowl-glass of her hotel room, is nothing short of an invitation.

A good look, is what you're about to say if you don't come up with anything else.

"You do this kind of thing often?"

"What's that," Yunjin says over the sharp line of a grin.

"What I mean to say is: I hadn't pegged you for the," and you gesture, rather elegantly, with the flop of your wrist, "lure-some-poor-sap-away-from-a-party-and-take-advantage kind of type," before managing something like a genuine laugh. "Not to knock that lifestyle or anything."

"There's not a thing in the world you know about me," is what she offers. Which is, unsurprisingly, totally true, and slightly unfair.

Yunjin is walking toward you while you consider it.

Drifting when she comes around. It's that close. You can smell the warmth of her skin, a whiff of that vanilla, an infuriating softness - the room is dark, but the moon is bright and the city is glowing, reflecting its light and the various hues from neon signs below, outside, until Yunjin stops, standing right in front of you, just, waiting.

Then, the steady rise of an eyebrow that, for a second, feels like a challenge.

“So," you kiss into her lips, and that's the first. "Let me know you."

The second is when her hands slip up and over the back of your neck and you can't keep from reaching for her sides, pulling her closer. Her hips and ass and those fucking gorgeous, full, legs that can't decide which direction to take - until she's pressed, warm, soft, and perfect against your body, and she's sighing this sigh, heavy, a moan.

The third time, she's licking into your mouth, tongue rolling in and around the taste of your own.

"Too many clothes," she murmurs, and you can feel the pull at your half-undone bowtie, the collar to your dress shirt. She's working the buttons off their slots with deft, clever fingers.

"That's what happens when I'm trying to look sharp."

"Sharp, and hot."

"Is it working?"

Her eyes are as dark as the hair framing the smile that plays at the edge of her mouth. "I'm taking your clothes off, aren't I?"

"Mm," you reply, a smirk of your own. Pressed right into her jaw, her neck, the column of her throat, where she tastes sweet and salty. Like the sea and the night. Before you can even ask, with your fingers teasing the elastic of her underwear, I'm guessing you want me to do the same.

Yunjin makes a sound like, mm-hm.

The hotel room is quite standard, which is to say, nice. But, for what it is, it's not too fancy. There's a large, king-size bed with the crispest sheets you've ever felt. A little kitchenette. Some counter space and a fridge. A TV hanging opposite the bed, with an armchair and a love-seat positioned to face the screen.

"Do you want me to tell you what to do?" Yunjin asks, and her voice is low. Almost a husk, a whisper.

"What did you have in mind?" you say to her, and there's a hand on the nape of your neck, a fist of soft, slender fingers wrapping the length of your cock.

"You're going to fuck me until I'm cumming on your cock. You'll get me on my knees, first, though."

"That's the plan?"

"Unless you have another." Yunjin grins, a smile so full and bright and genuine. You don't know anything beyond her name and the perfectly sculpted curve of her ass. She could be anyone, an actress, a singer, a model. A girl-next-door. A friend of a friend.

She could be yours.

And in a way, when she's on her knees, her mouth hot and tight around the shape of your cock, those fucking lips pressed into the base of it, sliding easy with the spit she leaves on your shaft, that's exactly what you tell her.

"Yunjin," is all you're saying, a sigh, a hiss. You're helping her get your pants off the ends of your feet while your cock is lathered and bathed in her spit, feeling her slender fingers pull up and down your shaft. "That feels so fucking good, baby. Just like that." It's fast, sloppy, she's taking you in and out of her hot mouth like it's the most natural thing in the world. A slurp, a cough, and she's completely unfettered, sucking down and swallowing another breath - not to mention all that about her tongue. A swirl over the head of your cock and you show how much you like it, letting her read the bite into your lip, inventorying every little wince through your brow.

But see - you have your fingers in her hair, holding the strands away from her face. Away from where Yunjin's eyes are breathtaking and glittering, blinking back up under upturned brows, looking up at you from where she's taking you into the hot wet of her mouth, inch-by-inch. And the part of you, this cruel, twisting sensation, would hate for her to think anything of your hands - how they're at the top of her head, cradled behind, and easing her forward, the head of your cock teasing the roof of her mouth.

The back of her mouth.

The back of her throat.

Fuck, her eyes go wide. She's good. She takes it.

And just from the pretty look she keeps on her face, Yunjin loves it. Loves to be pushed, loves to have her hands running along the ridge of your thigh until her fingers are prying the very bottom, the underside, your balls. Like this, with her kneeling down between your legs, the flexing muscle of her upper arms to her palms squeezed tight on either cheek of your ass, where the heat starts to stir deep - to pull. Bring the full length of you to the back of her throat.

The choked sound from deep in her chest should surprise you.

And for the shortest moment, you're holding still and forcing her head, your hands keeping her perfectly put: just there, right there. Exactly like that - where she could look like the perfect mess and feel a twitch right between those lips that keep asking so kindly, go ahead, fuck a load of cum down my throat, baby, use these lips - the soft swell of these lips until you're cumming for me.

Or something else along those lines.

The thought of it crosses your mind: cum spilling from the corner of her mouth as she tries to take everything you have. The flutter in her throat wringing it all down. The mess that all would make. Not that she isn’t already a perfect sight.

You tug on her hair again.

Yunjin's eyes sparkle.

Her eyelashes go a little droopy, hazy. Dark.

And she starts humming across this wistful note of a sigh as her lips start slipping over your shaft - dragging in that slow, agonizing, blissful way over everywhere sensitive and aching. Taking her time, while one hand goes up and strokes what her mouth can't touch, while you pull her head, those perfect strands, just a touch further down, because if she can't quite deep-throat you then Yunjin can give a goddamn masterful impression.

Her cheeks hollow, and the suction - god.

You could cum right in between the pretty little pout of her lips, over the flat of her tongue. Right down her throat.

But in a turn of events neither of you anticipate, you don't do it; you are, much like anyone else, not without limits. Which is probably how you end up lifting Yunjin back up by the underside of her elbows, asking, "that feels a little one-sided, no?"

It's only fair to pull a smirk, kiss, all the best tricks - all for the best parts of her, full, curving, down from her neck, shoulders, her arms, the palms of her hands, every part of her: that perfect shade of peach, pink. From there, everything else falls away. The slow way Yunjin sneaks away with the kind of saunter you'd expect, hips swaying all the way up, sashaying out this inviting side-to-side before you realize it's working -

And you're asking, "Yunjin?" then telling, "I want you up against that window."

The sun's long set - but it'll come up soon enough, over the edges of skyscraper-blocks and shining up out from the base, until everything is bright and gleaming.

"Which window?" she teases.

So you swat at her ass. A not-so-delicate slap. "I don't care so long as I fuck you into it."

"And if someone sees?" she laughs out, still intent on teasing you, and the small edge in her voice is some combination of excitement and worry.

"Then we better give them something worth seeing."

Yunjin's palms land flush to the glass, fingers spread out - wide, wanting, willing - where the blue, yellow glow of city lights shines in over the curves of her profile, the slope of her cheek, the bright pools her irises turn under the warmth. She's the only thing worth seeing, and there's nothing that could possibly stop you from needing, wanting more, right now.

There's no other explanation. No other reason, really, to explain how you're desperate: to fill her, bury yourself inside her - to where you're promising, coming up behind her and guiding her over - so you can spread those creamy thighs apart, push her shoulders up against the cold surface of the window. Where she'll catch a view of her reflection staring back at her: beautiful, exposed, and hers.

"I'm going to fuck you now," is exactly what she's been begging you to say, is why she ends up feeling, with the deep, twisting need building somewhere, how you'll work your cock so deep into her wanting cunt that the only thing that makes her legs go weak - wobbling, really - is the promise of cock rubbing so close and teasing the slick folds between her legs. Until she's a little more demanding, needy - and fuck, where is all the foreplay you'd promised earlier? That perfect, thick cock of yours is missing. She knows what all this really needs.

"Yeah? You need me here?" and she gets this whine, a little pathetic, but in the cutest way.

Yunjin turns her eyes to you, over her shoulder, just the faintest bit of a sneer.

Because she needs it, right now - rough, quick, good.

A gasp catches in her throat when you drag your cockhead through her wet heat, once, twice, and the slide of it against her clit becomes the only thing that matters in the entire goddamn world.

"Inside," her teeth are clamping hard on her lip now, holding it from trembling as she tries to put words together, "Put," is where she loses focus and you're sucking, and kissing, and biting at her shoulder, "put, fuck. Please, put your, put - that cock of yours in my-" You slip into her hot-soaking-wet cunt, and after you've clenched a fist and brought a palm to the center of the window, so that you could open up your body around her a little easier, her muscles squeeze and grip and milk the first few strokes so tight. So-fucking-good.

There's not even a word for it, how she fit like a glove around the first thrust, but if the expression on your face says anything, it's everything Yunjin wanted and more: the shape, the angle, how you're pressing your fingers so hard into the impossible geometry of her waist, the round of her ass - oh, she’ll be a mess of red marks, shapes and lines, reminders of how good you fucked her - these long deep strokes in and out of her creaming pussy - evidence left where the heat inside her builds and pools.

And god, Yunjin is so, so easy to fuck: you can pound into her as rough and steady and fast as she'd begged - there with your other hand, pulling hard, hard, at the loose, dark locks of her hair. Where it has Yunjin gasping, moaning, the whole nine. She has to look to find her balance - and meets the two silhouettes framed inside the reflection on the window. Two shapes, lost in the blurred shadow and outline of lights outside the hotel window, behind which the whole city and its crowds might have stopped the way they'd started, with the rest of you caught between these strange moments:

First, the mindfulness. The purpose and meaning in movement, sensation. In being alive and young, hot, gorgeous and dumb as you can afford to be be.

Yunjin's murmuring, "right there, I want you," or telling, or begging, "don't, you have no idea, I, no-" until your body presses flush up against hers, hips rocking into her perfect figure - taking you like she was built for it, and everything feels so much tighter now, so much closer. Her palms and cheek against the glass, her knees are all shaking and ready to fold at any moment. "So deep, fuck. Fuck me right there, just like that."

Then as you suppose, the unbridled lust on display: Yunjin's turned to this kind of abandon - she's swearing out loud, saying things that have no name and very little form until you've dragged the roughness of your fingers all over her body and found she needs a palmprint on her inner thighs, her ass. That she's whimpering with every deeper plunge until, finally, she gets what she's after - and the words are falling out of her mouth. All it does is mean nothing now - whatever you've been waiting to hear, the pleas to fuck her harder, the cocksleeve talk, or any other request or order.

It's a small miracle, really, considering how she'd gotten you throbbing and aching with just the press of her lips and the dangerous little curl of her tongue - the tight heat all in the back of her throat - but Yunjin cums first.

Loudly.

Messily, too, as she rides out the feeling - tightness gathering right into her core. But her head, it's in the clouds and a little far away, the skyline bathing her skin in shades of glittering silver and gold. And god, the heat of her tight, twitching, soaked pussy - pulsing around the thrusting curve of your cock: the sublime kind of place, spot, rhythm.

How her arms give out and she's pressed, flushed, back to chest with you, right there. Her words are soft. Wholly unimaginative: yes and fuck, yes and oh, she wants you, loves how well you fuck. The murmur comes from that gorgeous body of hers, the exact shape of everything that feels good to feel. The jut of her hips and her legs are longer than her height suggests they'd be, flawless from the ankle and foot to her thigh to where your arm wraps around the base of her ribs, hugging her from the back.

It's a perfect fit.

And not in the glass-slipper kind of way that means there is such a thing as a soulmate, no.

"Cum in me," she breathes, and then - all over. That's it. The moment your fingers are splayed back out over the pane of window, she can't hold her gaze steady. Those tears prick up at the corner, where they get caught. Where her voice is too high and pitchy - begging, a whining noise and some syllable. Something inaudible that has pressing these hot, open-mouthed kisses right into the pretty rise-and-falls of her spine. The sloppy-wet sound from your cock slipping back in, and back again, until you're just left fucking these little ragged breathes out of her chest.

The space between her lips and the glass, the white-ghosting breaths of air out between those plump little pouts that have shaped and molded themselves into some version of words, a few half-finished pleads: “kiss, hold, fill, fuck, just," and, "my body, love-

"Your fucking pussy, Yunjin, holy shit, it's - fucking - so, god," you all but growl out.

Pounding into the tight clench of her cunt.

The bed in the other room might be the better choice, the sheets and pillows for more support than the hard wall she's propped against. But the glass, to see the view and take her up against it: it feels nice, cool and comfortable, even when your motion makes it fogged and sticky with condensation. She had, when your first thrust pushed inside the molten heat of her pussy, reached around the corner - fingertips splaying wide apart, up, along the foggy pane, watching the shadow of her palms turn blurry and indistinguishable against the soft glow of neon beyond.

"I'm cumming," you tell her, "I'm cumming - fuck," before shoving her body even further into the glass. Fucking her hard - just short of bending her to the point of where she might break.

That last stroke or two goes a little wild; all that coiled and pressurized want and need, boiling over the moment you fuck your cum deep into her trembling body. This time, your sounds aren't just the thoughtless hum and groan from the depth of your lungs, but some collection of dirty words, grunts. Nasty things. A whole host of obscenities: like how it's for the sake of claiming, leaving something of yourself behind. How you're pulling the smooth, curve of her hips into your body to push as much of yourself inside the gripping warmth of her. How your hot cum is starting to spill from her pink, perfect, hole - all for the better because when you take your thumb and swirl and trace and smear all along her slippery-wet slick, she gets like this: squirming in these lazy, needy little wriggles against your touch.

It takes the two of you sometime longer to move. Not long, but, you know, a little while.

When it is that Yunjin comes back to herself, you feel the smile as the ghost over your arm.

The kind of thing to ask, though you're too fucked to pay attention, are questions about life: where do you go to school, how long will you stay? All of that. There's a quiet moment where your mind plays back, vaguely, a little more intensely, the realization - and regret of it, the waste - of fucking a stranger for a night.

And in a real short moment:

"That was - really good," she says, still not recovered quite enough to walk.

Yunjin sounds all that same: a stranger. Not familiar. That's, like, your last chance or whatever. Before this becomes a one-off.

("Stay for a while?" is what she doesn't manage to ever ask.)

"Have to leave early tomorrow." And she looks at you, shoulders dipping at the ends. She says things like: "my work," and "we have an international flight. Customs is a bitch."

"Oh," is what you say to all that, looking her body over again, drinking down all the small details of her. The ones you'll lose forever after tonight. All of them, you know.

All because that's how it had to be, from the start.

"For sure."

Yunjin's hands are twisting at the end of her hair, stroking and brushing through the silky, black strands. Just for something to do: maybe, optimistically to keep herself occupied with some semblance of a thought that has nothing at all to do with how she can't seem to shake this sudden, cresting wave of frustration - how there's an urgent throb from deep within, pushing into her skin like a force.

You swallow. Try to smile. "It was fun."

The hotel's checkout desk is staffed by a cheerful looking man, almost fresh out of high-school. Too cheerful a smile, perhaps, and maybe a little too bright for the time of day. You'd been busy pacing the lobby, trying not to stare at your phone for the third or fourth time since stepping out of the elevator. Your feet have scuffed the ground under the coffee table, around the floral couches - almost tripping over the boutiques lined in the middle of this path. Likely you'd have considered them if you weren't focused elsewhere.

Thinking about how you'd put off any discussion about piecing back together your rental suit.

"Did you have a good stay, sir?" the concierge asks, reaching out across his desk to pick up a card. He's placing a machine in front of him.

Your face warms ever-so-slightly. "Wonderful."

"That's what we like to hear. Just swipe your key here."

The machine's screen flashes and there's another cheerful beep, indicating everything was processed.

"Could you get me my receipt?"

"Absolutely. One second."

And the printer whirs to life: spitting out line-after-line of printed data. Until there are twelve characters of nonsense and garbage, including but not limited to the link to a questionnaire and an explanation for all the boxes marked 'x'. It also indicates your total costs (minimal, really) and lists a detailed breakdown of services: breakfast, in-room bar, laundry, towels - all the necessities.

"There, would you like- wait. Sir? Someone asked me to hand this to you," and after reaching under the desk, "looks like a suit jacket of sorts."

"Oh."

He raises an eyebrow. "From the event, I'm assuming."

It's hard to tell what it's about. But as you wrap your fingers into the cloth of the fabric, tug at it a bit, there's a note that slips and falls to the floor.

You sort of frown, skeptical. Fumble with the note. And the note says this:

In your absence, I helped myself to your jacket, your wallet, an extra serving of breakfast, as well as a large iced-coffee. Promise you I'll get the next one. Call me: (xxx)-xxx-xxxx.

Affectionately, your (girl)friend for an evening,

Huh Yunjin

#yunjin smut #le sserafim smut #kpop smut #male reader #capslocked kinkvember

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thebiscuitlabryinth · 2 months ago

Text

The Sage of Truth's heart is driven by the beat of curiosity, so he is used to questions and mysteries catching his fancy with all the ease of a match to a forest. They light a passion that burn him through investigation and calculation straight down to the slow embers of an answer or lack thereof, and even then the warmth of his newfound knowledge sparks a need to share what he has discovered with as many Cookies as possible. The affect that this zest for knowledge has on him is, in itself, an unshakeable Truth.

Despite all this, the Sage can still readily admit that nothing, no question or riddle or impossible formula, has ever captivated him as much as the Truthless Recluse.

The Truthless Recluse has always been a minor fascination of his, from the moment he had first heard of him, but that hadn't bloomed into anything signficant until he had the pleasure of meeting him at the square. The Recluse was both a delightfully complex and undeniably simple Cookie, easy for him to understand yet layered in contradictions.

The Truthless Recluse, whose life purpose is dedicated to his own Truth of protecting Cookies from the cruelty of Truth. A living, breathing riddle.

The Sage had intially nurtured a newborn hope that they would cross paths again in the square, and he had fallen into the habit of searching the crowds that flocked to his lectures for a glimpse of those dark robes, that gloomy aura, but alas! Of course, the Recluse would not grant him that honour more than once.

Eventually, the Sage accepted that if he hoped for another meeting, he would have to approach the Recluse himself. The thought did little to dissuade him, as he was rather experienced in chasing after his own flights of philosophical fancy.

So here he is, making the trek up to the Peak of Truth with only the pale moon to accompany him.

The Sage is confident in his path, and finds the journey itself pleasant overall. It may have been quite a while since he was last here, but he did once hail from this peak himself, long before the Recluse slunk and settled in. As such, he remembers the best routes to take, and has little difficult navigating in the encroaching dark.

He is just past halfway up when a silhouette emerges from the shadows, solemn and blurring together with the rest of their dim surroundings. The Sage's heart, driven by curiosity, doubles its beat, pounding excitedly in his chest.

"Who dares to–" The Recluse asks, voice low and gravelly in an attempt to intimidate, but he stops abruptly, narrowing his eyes at the Sage. "You."

"Yes, yes, it's just me." The Sage smiles, undeterred by the less than warm welcome, doing a little flourished bow before hopping back up into an upright position. "I know it is awfully late for a visit, my friend, but you see–"

"Don't call me that." The Recluse interrupts, somewhat rudely, but the Sage's interest in him allows him to let it go with little fuss. "We are not friends."

"Whyever not?" The Sage asks easily, tilting his head. "Are we not both Cookies, living in accordance to our own personal Truths, just like every other? You know, even a Cookie who does nothing but lie and cheat still has the Truth of their affinity for deception as a central pillar in their life."

"You said something similar already, at the square." The Recluse mutters, his gaze cold and heavy. The Sage welcomes it without a shiver. "About me living by a personal Truth."

"And am I wrong?" The Sage questions back, raising an eyebrow. He is genuinely interested to see if the Recluse can make any sort of substanial refutation.

But the Recluse simply presses his lips together in frustration and glances away. The Sage feels both a curl of satisfaction at his silently begrudging acceptance of his point and a chill of disappointment at the lack of an attempted counter.

His disappointment does not have to last long, as the Recluse returns his piercing gaze to him to make a point of his own. "If every Cookie's life relies on a personal Truth, then Life is just as cruel as Truth." The many eyes on the Recluse's mutated staff blink sluggishly, accusingly, their irises catching the thin moonlight in muddy ripples. "That does not show me any proof that we are friends. Which we are not."

"I only meant that there is nothing to stop us from being friends." The Sage clarifies, though he feels like he was quite clear the first time. "And I have never denied the complexities and, indeed, cruelties of Truth and Life alike. As I have told you before, Truth is imperfect, and I embrace that. You, however, seem to be unable to see past these complexities to accept the positives that Truth brings to the world too."

The Recluse seems unhappy with that, his hand tightening its grip around his staff and his frown deepening. "Did you come here only to give me a lecture?" He snaps, voice soft and brittle. "If I wanted to hear this, I would go to the square you insist on occupying."

"Did you not try to do the same to me, on your single visit to the square?" The Sage asks playfully with a growing grin, paying close attention to the way the Recluse stiffens. He laughs lightly. "Ah, don't think of this as a lecture, please. It's only meant to be a conversation. To be frank, I quite enjoyed our brief exchange back at the square, so I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you again. You seem like you would make a particularly interesting debate partner."

The Recluse huffs, shaking his head. "I have no interest in talking to you any further. This much was already bad enough."

With that, he turns away and tries to slink back into the shadows.

"Surely you aren't completely opposed?" The Sage argues, summoning a brilliant ball of light in his palm and rushing over to the Recluse's side, refusing to let him leave now. "If you were, you wouldn't have been willing to initiate our acquaintanceship first. You were the one responsible for that, when you visited the square."

The Recluse stops walking as the conjured light falls on his shoulders, reeling away and twisting around to glare at the Sage. The reflected light makes his dull eyes seem brighter, almost beautifully so. "I did that solely to stop you from sending dozens to their inevitable ruin by exposing them to the path of Truth." He hisses stubbornly. "If I had known it would be useless, and if I had known you would come chasing after me, I would have stayed far away."

"It is very easy to say that in retrospect, but you can't prove that to be true." The Sage points out with a shrug. "Unfortunately, my heart is rather set on this possible friendship of ours, so I'm afraid the matter is out of your hands now. You're stuck with me!"

The Recluse's expression closes in on itself, returning to a blank slate as he abruptly turns and begins to march off again. The Sage realises immediately that the Recluse hopes to discourage him by ignoring him and carrying on, but the Sage eagerly rises to the challenge.

He falls into step beside him, and the two of them walk together in silence, the Sage's light spilling like a pool of honey around them. The Sage watches the Recluse out of the corner of his eye, as the Recluse resolutely faces forward, acting as if he doesn't exist.

Eventually, the Sage's persistence pays off.

As they are approaching the summit, the Recluse comes to another stop, so sudden that the Sage almost walks into him. The Recluse does not turn back to look at him as he says quietly into the air, "Friendship is ultimately meaningless."

His voice is bitter, heavy with a sense of mourning. The Sage hums in consideration, rounding the Recluse to meet his face, raising his summoned light to envelope the surrounding area in a glow.

"What an intruigingly nihilistic statement!" He declares brightly, clapping his hands together. "It would make a riveting debate topic, if you'd entertain me for just an hour or two. Unless, of course, you worry your Truth will not be able to withstand mine?" The Sage rocks forwards on the balls of his feet, his smile a polite taunt. "After all, not all Truths are made equal. Some are stronger than others."

The Recluse glares at him again, though this time, it is weakened slightly by the growing resignation beginning to creep across his features. "You won't give this up, will you?"

"Of course not!" The Sage grins, hopeful that he seems to be slowly getting through to him. "Giving up is never the best option, you know."

The Recluse scoffs, raising his staff as dark wisps begin to swirl menacingly around it. "Not even if I decide to make you leave me alone by force?"

"Not even then!" The Sage chuckles, folding his arms behind his back as he squints his eyes at the Recluse. "Haven't you heard of me before? I can find an answer to anything and you," he takes a modest step closer, his eyes glittering with delight, "are my latest enigma."

The Recluse stares at him for a moment, his expression unreadable, which only makes the Sage wish to study it further. Finally, the Recluse sighs heavily, the dark energy accumulating around his staff dissipating in an instant.

"Fine." He murmurs, barely a whisper as he continues walking. The Sage lights up, his summoned light flaring along with him, and, taking it as an invitation, he follows after the Recluse to the rhythm of his achingly curious heart.

#quick break from bmb au bc i read that costume story and i had to #loved the implication that sage is still the one who is. for lack of a better word. infatuated with tr first #i did initially have a lot of sage-related rambling in these tags but they got so long i. think i may have to make an analysis post instead #you are all spared... for now #shadowvanilla #vanilla milkshake #pure vanilla cookie #shadow milk cookie #diverging paths au #the biscuit library

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velvettte · 10 months ago

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series masterlist

nanami kento never called himself a bored man.

sure, he’d admit, his normal routine had gotten quite monotonous. every morning he’d rise at six a.m and go for a morning jog to collect his thoughts. he’d get back by seven to shower and wear his attire for the day — always some suit that he’d preplanned for the week, matched with his signature tie.

he’d make the commute to the office by eight, where he’s accompanied by his assistants and secretaries all greeting him a good morning and giving him his agenda for the day. he’d get into his private office and seclude himself, working for the entire day before returning home again.

nanami thinks he’s had the most boring day yet so far, that is, until you stumble into his office just as he’s about to leave.

you’re shivering, soaked from the rain, and your clothes stick to your skin. he can see every part of your silhouette in this dim light, and for a moment, he’s speechless.

“hello,” you say almost shyly, looking up at him with innocent eyes. “i’m so sorry for the intrusion but it’s pouring outside. do you know anywhere i could find a ride? or wait this out.”

almost cinematically, a thunderbolt ripples through the air, rain splattering against the glass paned windows.

you shiver a bit, and nanami has a sudden urge to cover you somehow.

you’re the most angelic person he’s ever seen, he decides, when the light hits your face just right. he sees your features, defined and perfect, accompanied with lips so plush, he’s unsure how anyone could ever resist.

“i could offer you one,” he says, taking off his blazer and draping it over your shoulders. “my car is just outside. it would be an honor to accompany you home.”

“thank you,” you beam, and his heart palpitates at how your smile brightens the whole place.

the two of you walk together, with him opening the door of his car to allow you inside.

he takes the turn out of the office building and turns to face you, bathed in city lights and looking ethereal. he feels lucky— his day wasn’t boring anymore.

“just another two rights,” you say, soaking in the warm air from his car. “my apartment should be around here.”

he follows your instructions, only to be led to a luxurious establishment. outside the plants were beautifully manicured, holding up despite the harsh weather.

“eden apartments,” he says, slightly in awe when you grin at him. “isn’t this where atlantis solution’s ceo lives?”

you smile even more, and he catches the slightest flush on your cheeks. “ah…that would be me.”

his heart nearly stops.

“well. thank you for the ride mr. nanami,” you say, and he wonders if this ride was a strategy or genuine interest. “i’m indebted to you. i look forward to seeing you all dry tomorrow.”

with that you wink and grin, walking into your apartments and leaving him there, a surprised man.

read part two

feedback is so appreciated!! send an ask or comment to be a part of the taglist <3

#ari scribbles #clause and effect #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jjk fluff #jjk drabbles #nanami drabbles #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you

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thatonebabybat · 1 year ago

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Being Masc & Goth

This blog usually isn't fashion-focused, but I was thinking about alt fashion and how it's sometimes a struggle to figure out how to style things in a masc way if you're interested in darkalt fashion, but you don't want to go too casual or basic with it. So I thought I'd throw together some tips, link some DIYs, and maybe throw in a few moodboards. I want to preface this with one thing: You do NOT have to adhere to traditional gender roles. Fuck anyone who tells you that you do. If you're a guy and you want to get into alt fashion don't let anyone tell you that you can't pull off a skirt or a dress or a strappy top. Literally the whole point of being alt is Doing Whatever The Hell You Want Forever. However, not everyone feels comfortable in that (I made this post because I'm transmasc and sometimes the long gothic dresses make me dysphoric), and not everyone is safe to do that ( as much as it sucks ass, if you live in a conservative area sometimes it can be genuinely dangerous for guys to wear makeup and dresses in public, and your safety should always come first), so I thought I'd lay out some tips on how to dress alt and masc from my own experience. I'm still learning so feel free to leave your own advice in the replies or reblogs! General Styling Tips: - Jackets. Jackets, jackets, jackets. Something about a big jacket always seems to give an outfit a more masc energy, and adding a cool jacket to an outfit can be a great way to elevate it and add some extra visual interest. I like black blazers, leather jackets, and black denim jackets in particular, but vests (formal menswear ones or more casual denim or leather ones) can work well too, especially in hot weather. - Any basic black pair of jeans will look 100x more alt if you loosely attach some chains to the pockets or belt loops. Also, pants with wider legs tend to look more masc than tighter fits. not sure why. Slacks can also be a really good and underrated option. - If you want to find good headwear, cool sunglasses have never failed me. You may be able to take some inspiration from Ouji fashion as well, but that's just my personal taste. - If you have a basic piece around, you can add pins, patches, safety pins, etc for a more casual look, or if you're going for something more formal, trims and lace details and embroidery can really add interest and elegance to it. (if you can't sew, you can order iron-on embroidered patches online or find them in craft stores that'll do the trick just fine.) This can take your pair of slacks or plain black blazer and turn it into a piece of formal gothic menswear you can make a staple of your wardrobe. - Find inspiration in your favorite goth artists. There's a lot of really cool goth music out there and a lot of those bands get really innovative with their looks! Figure out what you like about their style and try incorporating a few things in, it's fun! - If you have an alt wardrobe already but it just seems like something's missing or it could use some interest, try switching up the silhouettes or adding an extra layer! Seriously, don't be scared of playing with textures and sleeve shapes! I see a lot of dudes who just wear a band tee and a pair of jeans all the time, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that can be a great look! But I think a lot of dudes just genuinely think that that's their only option and that everything else just "wasn't made for them" and that makes me a little sad. shred up some shirts and layer them, wear some bell sleeves, throw some extra safety pins or studs on, have fun! No one said masc fashion couldn't be fun. Unisex/Masc DIY Videos I Found:

youtube

... And Some Inspiration!

[These are all goth music artists, I wrote the band/artist names in small text on the images that were not already watermarked for those who are curious]

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kabr0ztrousers · 11 days ago

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It's super late so we're breaking from scheduled programming. Enjoy

Kabr0z Writes Episode 93: Communion, part 2

Also entitled: Confessional

Find part 1 here, or the rest of the Kabr0z Writes anthology here!

CWs: portal fucking; giving fellatio; receiving cunnilingus; group sex; free use; religious themes; religious mentions; the last part ended in a confessional booth with a suspiciously gloryhole-adjacent slot. You can see where this is going

A/N: Today I was sent an ask longer than some episodes I've written. On the one hand I could scroll past the few hundred words and images every day for the next 2-ish months, or on the other I could write that episode sooner. Issue is, while I enjoy reading the fanmail people put at the top of their requests, I don't want people to think that's a requirement or they'll get preferential treatment...

Decisions decisions...

########################################

The booth was hot, and smelled of varnish. Only a little light got in through the slats in the door. The half-light illuminated the wickerwork screen beside you, and the slot in the door. You couldn't see through to the priest's side. His compartment was seemingly darker than yours, the silhouette of the man who was just delivering a sermon sat back as he spoke in that familiar clerical monotone

"Confess your sins, my child, and be absolved"

"F-forgive me father for I have sinned"

Your voice faltered. Your heart was still racing after the vigorous fucking you'd just received. Your cunt was still pulsing, cervix desperately trying to pull up as much of the cum dripping out of you.

The priest sighed "Confess, and be absolved. How long has it been since your last confession"

"I don't think I've ever done this before... At least not properly"

The priest didn't seem fazed. "I shouldn't ask, but as long as it stays in this booth the seal of confession is preserved. Were you the young lady who looked so distressed during communion this morning?"

You blushed. He had noticed something "Maybe?"

He sighed again. "I thought so. I recognise most of the voices in my flock. What did you want to confess?"

You thought for a moment. He was being so genuine, was he really this oblivious or was it part of the act?

"I... Uh... I suppose I've been having a lot of sex in... Inappropriate places?" The words came out like you were asking a question, but you're sure he understood.

"What do you mean by inappropriate?"

As if on queue, the panties started buzzing. The sound resonated through the hard wood of the bench under you.

"Well, sort of public?"

A finger tested your slit, sliding in to the knuckle. "It-it's hard to explain... I've got this thing"

A tongue pressed against you, tasting you as the finger pressed up into your g-spot. It was moving fast. The finger kept pace, rubbing the upper wall of your cunt against your pubic bone.

The priest still wasn't flapped "A thing? How so"

The finger and the tongue were making it hard to regulate your breath. Let alone string together words "A p-pair of undies. T-t-they make p-portsls" Your words are starting to slur together. The pressure in your bladder was building. So was the dull ache in your cunt.

"And are you wearing them now?" He couldn't sound less bothered. There's no way he couldn't hear you panting. No way he couldn't smell the arousal wafting from your crotch.

It got too much. Your knees pressed together as your thighs shook uncontrollably. You whined the response, "Yes, yes yes yes" You weren't sure if you were answering him, or just responding to your cunt squirting through the portal at whomever was doing this to you

"Well," Fuck this man was just unflappable. "I can see this has you vexed. Normally I would assign you some spiritual task to offer some relief. Given the" he sniffed the air "circumstances, I can offer something more... Physical."

You heard him standing up on the other side of the screen. You're not sure what he meant when he suggested something physical, but hopefully it wasn't going to be too unpleasant.

You weren't left to wait long. A cock slipped through the slot in the wall, half hard and waiting for you, inches away from your face.

You sat, staring at it. Even after having squirted all over a confessional booth you weren't entirely sure what you were looking at. You took it in one shaking hand, pulling back his foreskin and inspecting it.

The portal in your pants didn't lie idle. A cock slid into you. The flared tip pushing in deep before another joined it. The pair of them buried themselves in you. They stayed a moment, as if waiting for you to decide on what to do with the cock in front of your face.

Maybe a little less impressive than the two equine members sharing your tight hole, but no less important. You kissed the tip of his cock, tasting the slightly sour skin as you allowed it to grow against your lips, gently pushing them apart as it eased into your mouth.

The equines rubbed against each other. As one pushed into you, the other pulled out a little, preparing for its next thrust. They were using you to frot against each other, taking advantage of your hot, wet hole to get one another off.

You moaned Into the cock in your mouth at your realisation. You hadn't even dare hope for this. Two virile equines using you like a glorified sextoy, not caring at all of you got off on it. That thought was almost enough to make you cum again.

Instead, you focused your attention on your mouth. Suckling and licking the tip of the cleric's cock until he was rock-hard, throbbing and leaking onto your tongue.

"Drink of my seed, and be cleansed"

You were getting some doubts about this man. But you didn't care. He had a cock, it was big, and it was promising you a load of hot, tasty cum if you played your cards right. Habit clasped your hands together behind your back. Instinct drove you forwards on you allowed it deeper access to your mouth. You swallowed a gag as it brush your tonsils, accepting it into your well-trained throat.

The cocks twisted in you, rotating as they fucked out of sequence, rubbing their flared lengths against each other. You could feel them leaking pre into you. The vacuum effect of one tightly-sealed cockhead pulling out as another rammed in milking them both for all they were worth.

Your head bobbed on the preist's cock, tasting as the thin precum got thicker. You could hear him groaning and swearing under his breath as you swallowed over and over, your throat milking him as you enjoyed filling your face with him.

You groaned as you reached another peak. The rolling thunder of your orgasm caused you to tear up a little. Your belly tensed, muscles squirming as you clenched on the cocks filling you. You could feel your ass lifting off the booth chair, presenting it to nobody, a biological inperitive to beg for the cocks abusing your tight hole to knock you up

The first horsecock spasmed. Twitching and bucking, you felt cum flow into you before the other did the same. Twin jets of semen flowed into you, stoppered by the two flares sealing your cunt up tight. Your hips rocked, gyrating to try and milk the two who had connected to you. You weren't sure if it was making a difference but the two kept going, kept sending pulses of cum into your bloated womb. You could feel your dress getting imperceptibly tighter as an inch added itself to your waistline.

The priest wasn't far behind. He wasn't just crying in English. Latin and Greek had entered his speech as he called you a puta, a malaka, a filthy whore in the eyes of his God.

A drawn-out groan came from him as his cock emptied into you. You could tell he didn't do this often. His cum was thick, creamy and heavy. It slid down your throat with just a hint of a bitter aftertaste, the consistency of honey

You kept his cock in your mouth. Even after the horses had left you alone, leaking a stream of cum from one end, you let him keep his cock in your mouth.

At last he pulled it out. You spoke first

"I feel like you shouldn't have done that, huh?"

"No. No I shouldn't. I beg of you, don't tell anyone what happened here today"

You pulled out the stroker that came with your panties. Already keyed for priority access to your panties. The smooth metal tube felt warm in your hand "I have an idea how you can blow off some steam without anyone having to know"

It's strange, blackmailing someone into them having you as a fucktoy. But if anyone can make it work, it's you

#####################################

Yeah, I was gonna revisit this at some point or other, bit this went better than I hoped.

As usual, if you wanna see something, say something! Send an ask to have your request join the queue!

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pedge-page · 1 year ago

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Swim Lessons

Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: in Jackson, you find a creative way to get Joel to come to the lake to see Ellie swim.

Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, Joel calls you a slut or whore a few times, fingering, orgams denial, slight belly bulge, teasing, minor breeding kink (honestly I don't count it but maybe sorta), description of female reader body, low key perverted Joel, language, wet Joel is a warning itself.

18+ ONLY, minors DNI

- - - -

You were walking outside, planting flowers outside some of the main walkways when you had overheard the two of them through their kitchen window.

Ellie was begging Joel to teach her how to swim during their first summer at Jackson. There was a lake within the confines of the community that was open for fishing and, during the hot summer months, leisure swimming. What a luxury in the apocalypse.

"No."

"Please??"

"I said no."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled under her breath.

Joel shot daggers at her, but he was not going to budge.

"Ain't going to no lake and getting my clothes wet just to watch you flail like a kid who can't swim."

"I AM a kid who can't swim, asshole. And you'd have to take your clothes off, duh."

Oh what a sight that would be.

Joel laughed out loud. "Even more reason I won't be there."

Joel turned around and noticed you leaning on the ground, your back turned towards him. He admired your silhouette, the little shorts and tank top covering your backside as you delicately turned over the soil and planted the bulbs. He was unaware that you could hear their conversation, but you were fully aware oh his eyes burning at the back of your skull.

Ellie noticed (she always notices--Joel can't help but make it so obvious when he's staring at you). "She'll be there too."

Joel scoffed, acting like be wasn't checking you out for three silent minutes straight. "Who?" He asks incredulously.

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Bet she'll wear something cute."

Joel shook his head, acting uninterested. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute eying you up once again and trying NOT to think about the numerous bathing suits he could picture you In, all of which he'd be stripping you out of by the time the sun set.

You hear your name being called from the window by Ellie. You turn around and wave. Joel tries to dodge your eyes, a blush creeping on his face.

"Will you teach me to swim tomorrow at the lake?" Ellie asked.

"Of course!" You responded. "I'll be there at 3."

The next day, right at 3pm, Ellie was right on time. You were stretching along the sandy waterline, watching others kick around the shallow waters and diving into the depths. It was genuinely peaceful.

Ellie wore a full piece that ended in shorts, modestly covering her lower region. You could tell she was incredibly anxious to be standing around in such tight fitting and revealing clothes.

It pissed you that she was alone.

"He didn't come?"

"Said he would think about it. But he was going down for a nap when I left." She mumbled dejected. You watched her twirl her fingers anxiously, watching the dozens of kids and adults freely splashing around the water.

You knew having Joel here would help her confidence, knowing there was someone here who knew her more intimately. The one who taught her to shoot, hunt, and survive. But ultimately, having Joel here would give her someone to bully, and that was a huge confidence booster for the 14 year old.

"He'll come," you said, absolutely sure. "I'll go talk to him in a few minutes. Now let's just standing in the water for a bit, get you used to the temperature."

Joel was lying faceup on the couch, his arm propping his neck up against the armrest. He had no plans to go to the lake that day. The less he thought about you, the better off he'd be at resisting your temptations.

A fervent knock on the door startled him. Grumbling, he reluctantly got up from napping position and opened the door.

There were a million things he expected, but you standing there in the most revealing bikini, dripping wet all over his porch, fucking barefoot, was not one of them.

"Hey Joel!" You beamed. You could see his brain stop working as he stood there gawking at you like a fish out of water. "Ellie forgot her goggles so I'm just coming by to pick them up."

"Uhhhhh."

You had to suppress the smirk on your face as you pushed by him to jog upstairs to Ellies room. When you came back, making an obvious show of your breasts and ass bouncing down the stairs, you twirled the googles in your hand. "Got em!"

You made your way to the front door.

Joel still hadn't uttered a word. He was struggling to process what to say. He could be mad that you barged in without permission. Or that you were leaving water footprints all over the floorboards. But no, all that was on his mind was the way the water dripped down your wet hair, running down between the valley of your tits, your belly, cascading along your naval, between your legs. The way the bra did nothing but accentuate your supple breasts, pushing them up and together like they were tempting him. How gorgeous your legs looked with basically string over your hips, and the glistening of droplets against your skin just making you shine in the sun. The entire time he didn't even make eye contact with you, so unaware of the fact that he was staring at every inch of your body. His tongue slowly licked his parched lips. The only thing on his mind was bending you over his knee right now and beating you ass red--

"Ellie's making good progress. Shame you won't be there to see," you said, smile still genuine and sweet on your face as you went to the front door. He finally looks up to your eyes and blushes, quickly looking away.

"Yeah.... shame," he mumbles.

You wave goodbye--making even effort to have your tits sway with the movement, before hopping off towards the lake.

---

It takes all of 10 minutes for Joel to show up at the lake. You know it because Ellie, who was now doggy paddling in the shallow end, stood up and gave a low whistle. You were in the water with her, lying down to submerge your body, when you turned around. God, you wish you had a camera.

Joel stood in the sand awkwardly looking lost and out of place, beach towel in hand, flip-flops and (oh my GOD) actual shorts. You took a closer look, realizing this is the first time you've ever seen his legs (he's always wearing jeans) and notice they weren't swim trunks. They were fucking boxers. To your dismay, he was wear a short sleeves shirt, but none the less, this was most naked Joel had ever been in pubblic. And you could see the same nervous stance Ellie had when she first showed up too.

"Well aren't you pretty, you old fucker," Tommy muttered, whistling at Joel as well. He was sun bathing in his swim trunks, shirtless, with sunglasses.

Ellie bounced out of the water to come oogle Joel, making snide comments. Her attitude had improved immensely, just as you suspected.

"Yeah yeah, shut up." He groaned. "Where are your goggles?"

"What goggles?"

Joel stared at Ellie, then to you. He gave you a knowing, defeated look. You sunk down in to the water so he couldnt see your giggles. He sat down next to Tommy.

You came out, freshly soaking wet in your bikini.

Joel moved his beach towel to his lap, wrapping up towards his lower ribcage to conceal his belly, sitting there with hands by his side, legs bent, trying to hide his obvious boner from the world. Despite how much he eye fucked you earlier, he was doing his best to avoid looking at you now.

"So nice of you to come see Ellie, Joel," you teased. You sat down next to him, softly pressing your tits right against his muscle arm. The tips of his ears were bright red.

"You're supposed to take your shirt off and go swimming," Ellie said.

"M'fine right here. Ain't nobody need to see what's under here."

"Wuss," Ellie mumbled. Before Joel could tut her off, she was leaping back into the water. You and Joel were both extremely proud of the work she had made.

And yes, you could see the difference in her confidence now that Joel was here watching her. You both watched her splash some of the other kids, laughing and enjoying herself.

Without removing his gaze from Ellie, Joel leaned towards you. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"

He hadn't noticed you had whipped the goggles out. You dropped them on to his lap, causing him to yelp as they grazed the tip of his erect dick under the towel. You snatched his glasses from his eyes and put them over your head, forcing him squint at you.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

- - - -

About two hours later, most people had gone home to enjoy a summer nap after a day at the lake. The sun was setting beyond the trees. Joel waved Tommy goodbye, leaving just him, you, and Ellie. You had fallen asleep under an umbrella (an umbrella Joel had to put over you so you didn't burn in the sun while you slept.)

He took his shirt off and slipped into the lake, encouraging Ellie to go deeper into the water, promising he'd be right next to her. You had awoken to both of them comfortably in the water together, Ellie splashing Joel and getting his fluffy hair all wet and tampered down. It made your heart swell to watch the two of them exist as they are without anyone else.

You did your job. Time to go home.

You had started rolling up your towel when Joel's wet hand reached out and grabbed you. You turned around and saw him dripping wet, finally shirtless. Fuck he was even more imposing with less clothing. His soft belly did nothing to lessen his broad shoulders and strong built. Your eyes drifted down to his boxers, now clinging to his muscle thighs and hips and the outline of his big fucking c---

Joel smirked to himself, seeing the blush creep on your face. He realized how the reversal of your roles from earlier still garnered the same reaction.

"Thanks again for coming to teach Ellie to swim," you piped, hoping it wasn't obvious the effect his body had on you for a change.

"You were the one teaching her most of it. Just came to watch."

"Me or Ellie?" You smirked.

Joel rolled his eyes. He would never admit that the main reason he came was to watch you strut around in that pathetic excuse of a bikini for hours. Once you had given him a taste at his front door and left, he botled upstairs, dug through his clothes, searching for swim trunks. He didn't want to see too out of the ordinary when he showed up to eye fuck you for the rest of the evening. Not having a single pair of swim shorts wasn't going to stop him from seeing you in your glory.

He glanced back down to your breasts (now realizing you were pushing your arms together to accentuate their plumpness right at him), licking his lips. Seductively bringing his darkened gaze back to you, you felt your pussy throb with need.

He clearbed his throat. "Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to--"

Before he could finish, Ellie had slapped a hand on Joel's back, barging in the conversation. "I am soooo pruney! Anyway, thanks for teaching me to swim!" She wrapped Joel's towel around his shoulders.

You and Joel both say at the same time "You're welcome."

Ellie took one look at the pair of you before loudly announcing, "Im going to Dina's tonight. Bye!" Before running off.

And then there were two.

You shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes by playing with the sand below your feet. "You were saying? Wondering if I wanted to ... get swim lessons from you too?"

"Ha. No. Sure you're a fantastic swimmer. No. Wonderin' if you wanted to come to my place tonight."

"Oh? What for?" You teased.

He leaned closer, his fingers dragging your chin so you stare up as he pressed his wet body against yours. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth before answering: "'Cause I'm not fucking you in some nasty lake."

You gulp, never expecting him to he so forward. For once, he had you speechless while he enjoyed your freezed reaction.

You two had barely made it through his front door before he was shoving his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. Your lips were dry from the hours in the sun and water, but he was so thirsty for a taste of you that he couldn't care in the slightest.

"Teasin me all day with this fuckin bikini," he groaned, pulling the thin string that held your bilinki top together from the back. The top fell right off, his hands immediately replacing them to rub your breasts. "Knew these tits would be gorgeous," he moaned into your mouth, making you shiver. You closed your lips around his again, feeling his hands travel down your back till they reached your ass, giving a firm squeeze. "Can't believe you went out wearing a fucking thong and calling it a bathing suit."

"This IS a bathing suit," you laughed, licking his bottom pouty lip. "Least I didnt wear actual underwear."

He bit your earlobe, pressing you against the wall. "Gave you something to think about, didn't it?" His fingers were pushing your bottoms aside and rubbing along your soaked folds. You keened into his mouth, eyes closing with head thrown back. You could feel his hot breath on your face. "Fuckin knew you'd be soaked. Not just talkin about the water. Drenched cunt just from lookin at me, huh? Filthy slut."

Holy FUCK he had a mouth, and you couldn't help but feel more aroused from his words.

He continued to stroke your clit with his thumb, two fingers seaking your hole and plunging in at once. "Oh, fuck, Joel!"

He propped his knee between your legs, preventing you from closing them. He let you grind your pussy against his palm while he worked both fingers fast, curling, pulling then pushing in fast rythm, hitting your g spot with deadly precision.

"You like this?"

"Ah huh!"

"Say it."

"I like it! Oh J--m' gonna cum!"

Joel immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the emptiness. "What the f--"

"Teachin everybody some lessons today." He kissed each cheek. "You're gonna learn not to tease me like that."

He continued to press his lips all over you you, refusing to put his fingers back on your aching clit. He resorted to grinding his wet bulge against your mound. You gasped at the sheer size of him, desperately needing that thing inside you.

Between kisses, you had gripped his hair which had now started to curl again around the roots. You managed to say, "Shower."

Joel scooped you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs. He placed you down in the bathroom slapping your ass.

"Take that rudiculous thing off," he ordered, nodding to your bikini bottom while he stripped off his own wet clothes off.

Your thighs clenched at the sight of his erect dick bouncing up to his soft tummy, standing tall, dripping a healthy amount of precum. It was flush red, angry at the tip, pulsing towards you. "See what ya do to me?" He wrapped a thick hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly while watching you. "Been like this all day cuz of you."

Your eyes never left it as you stepped backwards into the shower. He followed you in, shutting the curtains behind him.

While you turned on the shower and adjusted the heat, you could feel his lips met the back of your neck, slowly trailing down your shoulders and back up your spine. His stiff cock pressed between your silky thighs, rutting against your ass each time with desperate thrusts. You could feel your cunt aching at his earlier denial of your orgasm. You sigh heavily once the heat sprays you both. "Should get clean first before our mouths get too busy."

Joel nodded. You had lathered each other up, taking extra care to slick up his dick while he rubbed suds all over your ass, tits, and folds. He grunted, smiling when you would twist your wrist at the tip before fisting his cock repeatedly.

"Beautiful," he whispered against your lips.

His hand crept lower to your ass then down one thigh, hosting it up and around his hip as he drove your back against the slick wall. His other hand notched his cock at your entrance, teasing it.

"Gonna be a good girl and take this, yes?"

You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. Of course you wanted to take that big fucker, ride his dick until morning. But you wanted to see how far he'd go just to "teach you a lesson."

Joel didn't like your lack of response. You felt a bot hand wrap around your throat, straitening you up. He pressed his face so close, his nose pushing against your cheek.

"SAY IT."

"'m gonna be a good girl, take your cock," you pleaded, unable to put up a farsce anymore. You smirked, and God, you were gonna be the death of him.

Joel impaled you on his full length in one thrust. You gasped, head slamming against the tile. "Ow!"

Joel's hand gently cupped the back of your head, rubbing the ache. "You okay?" He asked. He stayed still inside you.

You were so overwhelmed with how full you felt, how he just throbbed against your walls, that the pain in your head subsided quickly with his soft touch. "Just fuck me, pretty boy," you moaned.

He brought his lips to yours before beginning his assault, bringing both legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall.

You had noticed it earlier when he emerged from the water with Ellie. How he'd run his hands in his wet hair, the wait it plastered smoothly against his head. It made him look both younger and older all at once. Mature and aloof, bold and serious, yet tender and like a playboy. It made you realize just how badly you wanted to be in this position right now, his cock ramming against your cervix, taking you like you were his.

"Little pussy so fucking tight, baby," he growled against your chest. "Fucking made to take my cock, ain't that right?"

You nodded again, whimpers and little shootings being the only sounds that could escape you.

As the water washed away the suds from your body, Joel took the opportunity to suck one breast in his mouth, biting your nipple. You dragged your hands into his hair, clenching tightly, wanting less, wanting more, wanting him.

His lower belly was grinding perfectly against your clit, your climax finding you quickly. "Joel," you warned.

"Go ahead, baby. You earned it. Cum on my cock."

And you were, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you cum, cum and cum, pent up from not just today but from the weeks and weeks you had been teasing, trying, testing Joel, just to get you here. You smiled sadistically, still on cloud nine, rubbing your pussy against him.

Joel glances down at the sight of his cock disappearing into your warm heat. "Ooohh f-fuck baby. Look at that."

You looked down with him, watching a slight bulge appear and disappearing against your lower tummy with each puncture of his cock deep inside you. He pressed a palm flat against it, your walls clamping down on his dick even harder. "So big, Joel. Fills me up so good."

"Yeah? Been thinking about this cock filling you forever, haven't you? Doing whatever to get me to fuck you. M gonna give it to you, sweet pea. Every fucking day. Every night. Just keep those legs spread f'me, ya hear?"

"Yes yes yes yes, oh God yes, Joel!" You could already feel a second orgasm building inside you. You leaned back further into the wall, leveraging yourself to help bounce on his cock with each thrust.

"Little whore. Fucking yourself on my cock like that. Gotta ride my dick like this later tonight, okay? Ain't gonna last much now. Been needing you too much." He was grunting into your shoulder now, letting out needy groans as he neared his end. "Where do ya want?"

You shouldnt. Should be smart about this. Especially your first time with him. Especially in the apocalypse. Especially without any protection. But Your body had a mind of its own now, that familiar feeling climbing higher and higher deep inside you. Your ankles hitch around his back, caging him against you, reducing him to shallow, deep thrusts inside.

Joel could feel your tight draw to him. He smiled against your neck, thrusts picking up pace. "Tell me. Need to hear ya say it."

You gripped his hair again, making him moan, yanking him back to look you in the eyes. "Want your cum inside me, Joel Miller."

He drove his hips into yours like a mad man, fucking himself as deep as possible, teeth gritting, never once breaking eye contact, and then suddenly the both of you were seizing up, eyebrows scrunched together, mouths agape but pressed together as your orgasms washed over you. You could feel hot ropes of his cum pump deep inside, one, two, threefourfive--six healthy strings of pulses, emptying his load into your womb.

You both panted loudly, the only other sounds being the steady cascade of water down the drain. Joel peppered your lips in light kisses as you both came down from your highs. You could hardly form your lips to return the kisses, instead now realizing just how light headed you were feeling after the best cum of your life. Joel felt your legs loosen, barely catching yourself, as his cock slipped from your embrace. Strong arms didn't let go of you, watching as your eyes close, blissfully, your skin hot from the water.

He turned off the water and carried you to the bed, gently lying you down. He dried you up with a towel, with extra care against your battered pussy. Copious amounts of his cum was leaking, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hot tongue between your legs to clean you up, enjoy the taste of both of your mixed cum bit more. No, you were half passed out, skin aflamed from the hot shower. You needed tending.

He disappeared from the room for a moment, naked wet ass and all, before reappearing with a bottle.

"Need to start hydrating more if you're gonna be out in the sun all day, lady." He helped tilt your head up so you could take gulps of much needed water. You broke away to breath heavily, some water slipping down your chest. Joel didn't hesitate to drag his tongue up your skin, sucking the water off. You smiled dreamily.

"That's what you're here for."

- - - -

You napped, fucked again, ate, sucked his cock, then he ate you out, fell asleep, and then woke up with his cock buried inside you again.

The next morning, Joel got an angry Maria banging on his door, cussing him out for using too much water for your extra long shower yesterday, causing a shortage of heat and fresh running water for the surrounding 6 homes.

#pedro pascal smut #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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