#but the way they describe shit is not how it turned out for me lol
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(I saw this, went "how the fuck did I miss this" and got very excited someone asked for reasons you shall see below in the next paragraph had a bunch of idea, did some stuff, had a bunch of cool ideas, wrote the first paragraph of this, then took a hot bath and had a bunch of really cool and in depth ideas of how to explain this while in it, so now it's time to see how much of the shit I wanted to say that i actually remember).
Decided to make the links blue for visibility, I should have gotten all of them if not sorry.
She does actually, so does the son. Diana and Mirian Curze respectively. But their names might be changed. "Mirian" was no joke based on some "Mirian" and "mink" and a mink theme I mentioned here (<- central post to the lore btw, check out the farm au tag) that was since completely abandoned (everything else in that post is still canon) but he's been mentally named "Miran" in my head so long it stuck and I have thought of some others but they never clicked, even if I kinda hate it. That's why he's currently tagged as "the curzeling" because I have no idea wtf to refer to him as. And "Diana" is up there with "Rose" and "Maria" as cliche names for kind gentle characters female characters who tend to be dead moms or shadow the hedgehogs maria (No, Diana here does not die) alongside just not sounding very warhammery. Her maiden name is currently Diana Ignis but I can't decide if it's cringe. The reason I haven't talked more about them is that I am ironically the kind of person who hates ocs. As in, filter the original character tag out when searching on ao3 hates ocs. Though I tend to tolerate them sometimes. So it's a mixture of having cultivated an audience of x reader fans and the like, insecurity of while I know others do like OC content I wanted to create something that some hypothetical other person who thinks like me would have clicked on in the first place. Though I cope by telling myself I tend to tolerate them more when they fulfil some sort of function, eg, "what if this character met this kind of person" rather than just "canon character x oc" which tends to make me do a U-turn. and I sorta hope I would appeal to some other version of myself with that. You should also really check out the "core" tag on this blog if you haven't already as it deals with stuff that is "canon" to this narrative (Once I start posting about other ocs I'm not actually sure if they should share the tag too, maybe I should rename it then, oh well.)
Now before we progress further some meta knowledge is required: The farm post summer last year was sort of the genesis point of this au and actually it was really a now deleted response to that from a deleted blog where it started but this is the original ask. All of this stuff originated from hurt comfort and me initially rping stuff with chatbots then mentally adding way more lore onto it (hence the farm post) I actually have/had issues with Dianas characterization. I read a bit of the fic messages for dad (in which Konrad is paired with a woman named Julia) and I also have an oc for Dorns wife named Falke, (whose name also needs to be changed because "Falke" is a default name I use for myself as self insert characters and she grew a plot, but that's besides the point) and I straight up think messages for dad's Julia and my Dorn wife (of all people lol) were more interesting characters to pair Konrad with than the initial creation of Diana was (but she got better). This right here is ironically fanwork to the messages for dad fanfic but it perfectly describes why I love Julia as a wife for Konrad, and without spoiling too much my Dorn wife (who herself is in an "opposites attract" style relationship with Rogal) is someone with an anarchistic streak, immense curiosity and who is neither pro imperium nor pro chaos. Something which would sync really well with the nightlords (Konrad is canonically very curios. and Magnus and Perturabo are actually friends in canon and also bonded over curiosity). Both of these women are people who relate to Konrad "as a person" if it makes sense. His actual personality beyond just the insanity and trauma. Diana was a generic moeblob created to synergize with Konrard when he was broken (Oh the tragic irony that would be someone helping Konrad heal only for the man who came out on the other side be someone who they did not feel attracted to or someone who did not feel attracted to them. But that makes me sad so it won't happen here because I'm a sap. Diana and Konrad love each other forever in the au where they're together.). Genereic precious cinnamon roll generic ray of sunshine x edgelord. I am once again reminded of Shadow the hedgehog and Maria. So I am desperately trying to give her more personality and actually make her more compatible with Konrad long term without making her a Falke clone. I complained about this half a year to a year ago, I think it's improved. Though the cliche is still there.
Now moving on to the questions.
I'm gonna change the order a bit and start with the last one because I think the answer to it is the funniest.
- favorite places (planets and spots on Nostramo since I'd guess she is from there):
Nope. She's actually from Ultramar. Not Macragge itself but some random agri world in the Ultramar sector. Point is she lived a very comfortable and safe life. Upper middleclass. Spoiled sweet, not rotten.
- the relationship between her and the Night Lords:
None. She's scared of them since they would attack indiscriminately and Konrad protects her from them.
- more on her backstory and orgin:
Again see farm post and this whole ramble.
- their first meeting:
Won't be revealed here because it's planned to be revealed in an actually serious post / fic in list format similar to these two that will come out once I feel able to write properly. Though it will only be mentioned very briefly. Working title is "Justice", alt titles might be snowball or avalanche, but it will likely be called justice. Don't overhype it, it will probably be about half a page. But it will explore their relationship. I can spoil that it is after he is found by the Emperor but before he gets onboard Elvers ship.
- her interests and hobbies:
I mentioned before she used to rescue animals. Biggest sap you've ever seen. Brain slides out of her ass when she finds something cute. Mother hen instincts towards everything. All of these relate to getting with Konrad lmfao.
- her live outside of the Night Lords and curze:
Needs work actually. Unless the above is good characterization lol.
Besides supposedly looking frightning, Konrad Curze's pale complexion means that him blushing would be VERY visible.
He should be reminded of this, often.
#I put this in word for spell check and it registered it as “english: Jamaican” before removing typos and I'm not sure how to feel about that#konrad curze x oc#konrad curze#night lords#primarch#primarch x oc#warhammer 40000#warhammer 40k#wh40k#40k#meta#holy fuck
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Christ I wish I had been given a better heads-up abt what iud insertion entailed. If you have bad cramps on periods, know that they like. Grab Your Cervix which, for me, Induced the worst cramps of my entire whole life even on painkillers and weed gummy, and continued for a day
#text#paersonal#so fucking unfair that having a vagina is a one way ticket to medieval torture.#if you show a cis man a speculum they rightfully freak tf out jdbjdbd#fuck this shit man...#like its been a while but im thinking abt it bc was trying to nap and failed and mind was wandering and jfc#next time i am absolutely a. asking for the smaller speculum and b. going somewhere they actually have anesthesia etc#at least it lasts for 8 years#and it only took 3 minutes#but the way they describe shit is not how it turned out for me lol#like regular pain vs Cramps Pain The Worst Of My Life are two v different things#and i have a pretty high pain tolerance...#even premedicated it was so rough#which this isnt me saying dont get it bc again. 8 years vs three minutes (and a day of very bad cramps)#and it varies by person#its just nice to have a heads up#and know how to remedy#i.e. premedicate and go somewhere w anesthesia#the cramps for that day were more tolerable than the three minutes but good god
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— FOREIGNER
How the Karasuno boys would react to meeting Shoyo's foreign cousin.
— starring. karasuno boys x foreign exchange student!reader (separately), student teacher!reader in ukai's
— tags. fluff, first meetings, pining
— warnings. use of 'pretty' and 'cute' to describe reader, but no pronouns are used, you slap ryuu in his LOL, mild suggestive comment in ryuu's if you squint
— requested? yes! thank you so much for your request this was fun to write :)
— notes. some of these are longer than others sorry ADHKWH my biases are showing a lil // this ended up being a first meeting + how they act when they start crushing on you, but it they're so cute so i didnt wanna change it lolol
daichi is whipped for you from the start
he doesn't show it (or he doesn't think he does) but he's attracted to you the second he lays eyes on you
he's extra sure to be polite to you, too embarrassed too show his brasher nature in case it scares you off
he loses his backbone whenever you're around
he needs to scold some of the first years for goofing off, but you're standing there? he's all sunshine and rainbows
when he finds out that you're a foreign exchange student, he's over the moon
he subtly finds out your classes from shoyo, who of course doesn't realize his intentions as he blurts out your schedule happily
he checks up on you often, making sure you're adjusting well to japan because "what kind of captain would he be if he let his underclassman's cousin have a hard time?"
the team is none the wiser, except for maybe koshi who sees through his shit immediately
he has a habit of patting your head as a greeting, even if he's just passing you in the hallways even if you complain about him messing up your hair
overall, he's super soft with you :)
sawamura daichi! was annoyed when he met you. shoyo hadn't shown up to practice and wasn't answering his phone, which left the captain ready to send the orange-haired freshman to an early grave. after kei made a smart remark that he saw shoyo lingering near the school entrance, he was on a mission to give the boy hell.
kei was right, of course. when daichi made his way to the entrance, he saw shoyo right away. he stomps over, lips parting to lecture the younger male about responsibilities when his eyes ghost over you. he stops short, shoyo's name barely dropping from his mouth as he pauses.
when you both turn to him, daichi feels his breath catch in his throat. it was clear that you weren't from around here. your odd sense of dress stuck out like a sore thumb—not to mention he had never seen you before. but if anything, he thought you were pretty.
"you're late for practice," daichi states lamely, barely managing to tear his gaze away from you to glower at shoyo. "i ought to put you on cleaning duty tonight."
the threat fell on deaf ears, shoyo's large grin unfaltering as he wraps an arm around your midsection in a tight hug. "captain! sorry, sorry," he apologizes, though the wide grin on his face told daichi he wasn't serious. "my cousin texted me that they were here, so i had to say hi!"
at his words, you finally snap out of your stupor, offering daichi a small smile. "i didn't realize he had practice. i wouldn't have called him out if i knew."
daichi presses his lips together, feeling his ears warm at your kind tone. "it's okay," he says softly. "i'll let him off for now. it's nice to meet you—i'm sawamura daichi."
when you introduce yourself, he finds himself repeating your name in his head.
"oi," he clears his throat, turning to shoyo with a deadpan expression. "c'mon. we're late enough already." daichi turns to bow his head at you politely, quickly turning around before you can see the warmth in his cheeks.
your sweet voice calls out a goodbye, and daichi decides then and there that he wants to get to know you better.
"hey, hey—why are you so red?"
"you're gonna shut up now if you want to go home early tonight."
koshi didn't realize you were shoyo's cousin until after he got to know you a little
he couldn't help it—when he saw you he just thought you were super cute lmao
he fumbles a bit in front of you
he really really tries to be a cool, calm, and collected person but sometimes he embarrasses himself by saying odd things or staring at you a little too long
when he does figure out you're related to his underclassman, he takes the opportunity to get to know you better
and when he finds out you're in his homeroom? even better
the type to arrange study session together with you every weekend just to spend time with you
he actually invites you to watch their practices and games before shoyo does LOL
the whole team knows about his feelings and he doesn't even care, constantly throwing an arm over you shoulder and hanging around you during downtimes
wants to impress you, so he gives it his all (and then some) whenever you're there
his sets get more accurate and he even blocks more hits than he would've before
he really wants you to think he's cool
but if you compliment him, he's exploding on the spot
suguwara koshi! had no idea you were shoyo's cousin when he met you. you looked nothing alike and your personalities were completely different. despite you being a complete stranger, the lost look on your face amused him.
you met koshi when shoyo accidentally stranded you at the train station. you were supposed to take the same train to his house, but he didn't notice you weren't right behind him when he stepped into the train car. the last you saw of the tangerine-haired boy was the back of his head as the doors closed on you.
you were standing there in a panic, though no one stopped to check if you were okay. shoyo had you hold his schoolbag while he dragged your suitcase along, and when you tried calling his cellphone you heard it buzz in the bag that hung on your shoulder. for the life of you, you couldn't remember which stop to get off or which streets to take to get to his house.
"are you lost?" a gentle voice asks you, pulling you from your anxious thoughts.
your eyes meet and koshi can't help but think you're cute as hell. you look doe-eyed in your panic, rounded eyes and parted lips. when you don't answer right away, koshi's cool demeanor switches and he stumbles into an embarrassed frenzy. "wait, can you even understand japanese?"
thankfully, you do, having learned it from shoyo at a younger age. you blink away the remnants of your panic with a few hasty nods. "yes, sorry. my cousin accidentally left me here, and i don't really know how to get to his house..."
koshi calms down at your insistence, chuckling to himself. "do you know the address?"
you wince, "no."
"alright," he says in a way that he hopes is soothing for you. "i can keep you company while you wait for him to return, then. it'd probably be nicer than just standing here by yourself."
when you agree, he hides his smile. he asks you several icebreakers, such as your name and your favourite colour. with every passing second, he only thinks you're even cuter than when he first saw you.
eventually, shoyo does come back, panting and heaving as he runs up the stairs to the station platform. his bright eyes widen when he sees you together with koshi. "oh, sugawara? you've met my cousin?"
koshi meets your eyes with a grin. "i guess we'll be seeing each other more often."
honestly asahi doesn't even acknowledge you when you first meet
he doesn't find out you're shoyo's cousin for weeks, so you're really just another classmate to him
you don't even talk to each other until like a month or so after you transferred
and even then, your conversations are short
he's polite to you when you work together, but he doesn't really try to become friends with you
don't get him wrong! he thinks you're nice and pretty, but he is too damn shy to initiate anything with you
you kinda think he hates you at first, but after you realize that he's just not an outgoing person you relax around him
when he does find out you're related to shoyo, you end up seeing each other more often out of class
you show up to more practices, even if you're just sitting on the benches doing homework
shoyo even drags you along whenever the team meets up outside of school to hang out
as a result, you and asahi eventually grow closer and he opens up more bit by bit
he doesn't actually start crushing on you until graduation nears
he realizes it when he hears you cheering his name at one of their bigger games
he thinks his name sounds prettier coming from you
he doesn't initiate any skinship with you, but he's always asking about your day and checking on you in his own ways
will absolutely combust if you even so much as brush pinkies as you're walking together
azumane asahi! first met you in class. like koshi, he doesn't know you're related to shoyo initially. when the teacher introduces you, making you write your name on the board, you don't have the same last name as shoyo. he doesn't really pay much attention to you, minding his own business as he takes out his notebook and pens.
several weeks pass and your homeroom teacher announces that you'll be partnering up for a group presentation. your first real conversation with him goes as expected—you exchange contact information and go your separate ways when the bell rings.
he thinks you're attractive, but he's too shy to actually act on those thoughts and he just pushes through the project, interacting with you as little as possible.
it's only when shoyo forgets his volleyball uniform at your house that asahi figures out you're related.
he sees you first, standing in the gym entrance while you wait to be invited in. you look hesitant as your eyes cast over the several members of the volleyball club, your gaze landing on asahi. when recognition flickers behind your eyes, he thinks you're there for him.
he opens his mouth to greet you, but before he can even utter a word, an orange blur runs past him. you're almost knocked on your ass as shoyo tackles you, excitedly calling out your name. "what're you doing here?" he asks you, tilting his head as he releases you from his death grip. "you never come to practice."
"you left your uniform at mine," you explain quietly, pulling the clothing out of your bag.
there's a moment of silence, before all hell breaks loose. the others scream and yell at shoyo, yuu and ryuunosuke shaking him by the shoulders as they demand why they weren't informed about his girlfriend.
even asahi's jaw drops at the thought of you, his classmate and group partner, dating shoyo, of all people.
"we aren't dating!" you exclaim, shaking your hands in front of you adamantly as disgust paints over your facial features. "we're cousins."
as the club eventually quiets down, you meet asahi's gaze over the commotion. when you offer him a bashful smile, he can't help but return it.
as expected, yuu is also whipped for you the second you meet
he swears on his life that he has never met someone as perfect as you—not even kiyoko (which says a lot)
at first, his attraction to you is entirely physical and he doesn't hide it
he compliments you every time he sees you he even compliments your outfits even if you're just wearing the karasuno uniform
he practically begs shoyo to bring you to practice just so he has an excuse to ogle at you and profess his 'undying love'
you'd probably make good friends with kiyoko, bonding over the second years' unabashed feelings and loud professions of love lol
though he's completely smitten with your looks, yuu doesn't learn a thing about you until like two months after your transfer
he realizes it when koshi asks if he knows anything about you and no, the fact that you're pretty doesn't count as something
during a late night run to the nearest convenience store, he runs into you
you're dressed casually, and he realizes it's actually the first time he's seen you outside of uniform
he thinks you're very cute in your bunny pajamas
he approaches you with koshi's words in mind, and asks if you want to hang out for a bit
your hang outs become a common thing, and eventually it's your weekend tradition to meet at the convenient store after sundown
after really getting to know you, he realizes that he likes more than just your appearance
shockingly, once he figures out his feelings for you, he tones down a lot
he would stop confessing his love for you every moment he could, but he gets casually affectionate with you
he'd always stand close enough for your shoulders to touch and would absentmindedly guide you places by taking your hand
he's never had a real crush on anyone before, so he's feeling it out with you
nishinoya yuu! has hearts in his eyes the moment he meets you. shoyo brought you to practice one day, excited to introduce his favourite cousin to his teammates. he had all but dragged you to the gym by the wrist, ignoring your insistent utterings that you can walk on your own.
"this is my cousin!" shoyo announces the second he bursts through the doors in true hinata shoyo fashion. you were the last ones to show up, so the entire team was there to witness you getting dragged in by shoyo. "they transferred here from overseas."
yuu feels the world stop once he glances over at you after receiving a particularly harsh spike from tobio, freezing into his squatted position. his world becomes a romcom movie—he swears someone must be blowing a fan in your direction with the way your hair sways as you walk into the gym. he might even be seeing the air sparkle in your presence.
he's absolutely starstruck with you, and he makes no effort to hide it as he bounds over to you. he takes your hands in his, looking at you with wide eyes as he takes you in. he can hear someone groaning, maybe daichi, as they mutter something along the lines of "he's at it again."
"i'm nishinoya yuu," he introduces himself. "you're really cute!"
your mouth opens, but no words come out as you simply stare at yuu in surprise. shoyo had given you a brief rundown of his group members, and you realize that this might be why he warned you about the libero in particular.
even when daichi smacks the back of his head, apologizing to you quietly, yuu remains in his lovestruck gaze.
you stay to watch their practice, at both shoyo and yuu's insistence, and yuu makes a point to be even more extravagant than usual. you can't help but laugh at his boisterous rolling receives and the way he calls out ridiculous move names.
oh ryuu. typical ryuu.
the first words he ever speaks to you end up with him getting slapped
like yuu, he thinks you've been blessed by the gods with your looks and he makes it clear to you when you meet
he asks you to go out with him, only to blatantly check you out right after, which earned him a smack to the face
eventually, he does apologize for his behaviour, though you don't accept it right away
when you tell him that you hate guys who treat others like eye candy, he's sure to tone it down for you
of course, a man can't change overnight
he still flirts with you, and with other women—he can't help it ;( him n yuu are menaces
however, when he's not being an absolute pest, he gets to know you
he learns about your interests and hobbies, and finds himself indulging you in them (who would've thought he'd end up enjoying the art of bracelet making?)
when you become close friends, you become his person
he goes to you whenever he wants to talk about something, and he lends an ear whenever you need to vent
he asks you about your home country often, wanting to know more about your life before you came to japan
he'd even go out of his way to do things for you that remind you of home whenever you start feeling homesick :)
it's not until well after graduation when he realizes that he might actually like you
tanaka ryuunosuke! was mid confession when you met. shoyo had brought you to one of their games, and just as ryuunosuke was getting on his knees to ask kiyoko to marry him, his eyes fall on you.
it's almost astounding how quickly the second year moved from the glasses-wearing beauty to you, appearing in front of you in an instant. before shoyo can even introduce you, he stares you down with a steeled expression, his eyes narrowing.
"you're the prettiest person i've ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on," he claims in his most serious tone. he takes your hands in his as he presses his lips to your knuckles. "please go out with me."
there's a collective sigh as the team turns away at his antics. you, on the other hand, feel your head pound in irritation. "excuse me?"
ryuunosuke doesn't hear the vexation in your tone, or chooses to ignore it, as his eyes trail over your features. even when you're staring at him in an angry disbelief, he thinks you're incredibly pretty. however, as his eyes drop lower and lower, his mind enters a less-than-appropriate headspace.
the feeling of your hand connecting with his cheek rips him out of his lewd daydreams. you didn't slap him hard, but the sound echoed over the loud chatter of the audience members anyway. "you pervert," you utter, gritting your teeth as you turn on your heel. you barely tell shoyo good luck as you all but stomp off to the bleachers.
ryuunosuke stares at your back, holding his reddening cheek in mild awe. yuu nudges his side. "don't tell me you're into that, man."
he at least has the grace to blush.
to be honest, you and tobio do not get along until much later
it's not because you're related to shoyo it is
he just genuinely has no idea how to talk to you lmao
you meet him on the first day of school with shoyo
the realization that he may be teammates with the very guy he had practically berated in middle school took priority over greeting you tbh
it's only after their initial fight when he realizes that you, a complete stranger, saw him yell at shoyo as harshly as he did (even if shoyo didn't have many nice things to say either)
he's kinda embarrassed abt it tbh
like?? you had to see him like that?? he's mortified
so when he joins the volleyball club and you're a manager, he avoids you like the plague
when he talks to you, he accidentally comes across as if he hates your guts (he doesn't, he just cannot properly converse with people to save his life)
your relationship is extremely terse for months, since you get pissed off at his behaviour and he doesn't know how to act normally around you
he doesn't warm up to you until one of their games later in the season, where the morale is low and the team is hanging their heads
you give them an uplifting speech, telling the team that they're stronger than they think
it's the first time tobio looks at you in a pleasant light, and he merely puts a hand on your shoulder to say thanks as he makes his way back to the court
slowburn as fuck tbh he might not even realize he likes you until you're about to graduate (cut him some slack he's only a lil slow)
kageyama tobio! barely acknowledges your existence when you meet. you had moved to japan before their first year at karasuno began, so you showed up with shoyo to the first day.
of course, tobio recognized shoyo immediately from their encounter in middle school. shoyo had dragged you to the gym to go with him to sign up for the volleyball club, insistent that you try to apply to be a manager or something. tobio was there, about to spike a volleyball.
the second shoyo and tobio lock eyes on each other, they're at it like cats and dogs, and you're left standing there in confusion. seeing shoyo as angry as he was is shocking to you and you wonder what the hell this other guy must've done to rile up your sunshine cousin so much.
tobio doesn't even look at you as he argues with shoyo, not meeting your eyes until after the fight has 'calmed' down. he stares at you quietly for a moment before averting his gaze, grumbling something under his breath as he leaves to retrieve the volleyball shoyo made him drop.
he doesn't say anything to you as you talk quietly with daichi about becoming a manager. he vaguely overhears shoyo introducing you as his cousin, but he's too annoyed to listen.
later on, when him and shoyo are finally accepted into the club, and you're brought on as a manager-in-training, tobio still ignores you.
you don't have your first conversation until a week later, when you corner him after practice. "what is your problem?" you demand, your hands propped on your hips. "i know you don't like sho, but you haven't said a single word to me since you joined the club."
tobio flushes in embarrassment as he stares at you. he doesn't mean to, but his eyes narrow into what could be perceived as a harsh glare. "i don't have anything to say," he says truthfully, his voice coming out colder than necessary.
when he rushes off to hide his growing fluster, you're left standing there confused.
you and kei barely interacted at first tbh
he had never seen you before and it was the weekend when you met so he had no reason to assume you'd ever talk again really
even after finding out you were related to shoyo, he didn't bat an eye
after all, he's not exactly going over to the orange-haired boy's house for sleepovers lolol
but to his surprise, you're in his classroom the next monday morning as a foreign exchange student
your classmates rush to you, overwhelming you with numerous questions about your hometown, and it's clear to kei that you're flustered
you meet his gaze over the crowd of people, and for a moment you're shocked to see him
however, before either of you can do anything, you get bombarded with even more questions
to your surprise and his, kei scoffs as he approaches your crowded desk
"can't you see you're bothering them?"
the gaggle of students dissipates with embarrassed apologies, leaving you and kei alone
your relationship with him from then on is odd
there's an unspoken agreement that you both don't like being bothered by other people, and you lowkey bond over it
he would never admit you're friends, but he comes to your rescue often
if you can't understand a phrase or if you don't know the answer to a question in class, he'll quietly help you out (but don't bother asking about it, 'cus he'll deny it vehemently)
when you start hanging out during practices, he ruffles your hair and rests his arm on your head regardless of your height
making fun of you is his love language (not that he'd ever admit he has feelings)
tsukishima kei! meets you when you're babysitting natsu. the team had been out getting ice cream (as per koshi's insistence—for team building), leaving kei in a sour mood because he would rather be anywhere than here.
"shoyo! sho!"
the whole team looks over, seeing a little girl who is the spitting image of their short middle blocker running toward them. kei's expression drops even more, because there's two of them?
shoyo almost drops his ice cream cone with the way the little girl jumps on him. "what are you doing here?" shoyo asks, scrambling to catch his sweet treat. "where's—"
before he can finish his sentence, another figure comes running at them, out of breath. "natsu!" you scold airily as you make your way up to the team, hunching over and resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. "jesus, don't just run off like that!"
you look up at shoyo from your hunched position, letting kei get a good look at your face. you're flushed, sweat beading on your brow bone and lips are parted as you breathe harshly through them. it's clear to the blond that you've been running around for some time now, something that makes him snort into his strawberry ice cream cup.
"sorry, sho," you wince, practically dragging the little girl, natsu, to your side. "she ran off while i was paying for her snacks. she probably saw you through the window." you vaguely gesture to a nearby convenience store, holding up a bag of candy.
you talk with shoyo for another moment, before turning to the rest of the team. your eyes briefly meet kei's and he arches a brow at you. you apologize for interrupting them, but daichi insists that you're fine and that you and natsu can hang around since you're there anyway.
as a result, you and kei end up standing near each other as the group converses. kei had been hanging a little bit away from the others, minus tadashi of course. you end up near him by coincidence—you don't know the others, and the three of you end up quietly sitting in acknowledgement that you didn't want to talk.
my darling baby tadashi is a mess when you meet <3
he was practicing his volleyball skills when he accidentally whams you in the face
he'd feel guilty about it for a while (even if you insist you're fine) and would use it as an excuse to buy you drinks from the vending machines lol
"this is the fourth drink you've bought me this week??"
"i have to make up for hitting you somehow :((("
becoming friends with tadashi is surprisingly easy, given how shy he can be
it becomes a habit to meet you by the vending machines before practice
the time in the halls between classes and volleyball are spent getting to know you
he asks a lot of questions about what it's like in your hometown and the differences in your culture
i don't think he'd start liking you until after you also get close with kei though lol good luck
the first time he sees you joking around with the tall blond, he thinks his heart is about to beat out of his chest
you must be an angel, he decides as he watches you get along with kei
the three of you form a trio and you end up spending more time with them than shoyo LOL
kei absolutely knows about tadashi's feelings and takes every opportunity to tease him about it whilst you're blissfully unaware
he's so so smitten around you after he realizes he likes you
the type to look at you like you hung the stars in the sky yourself and to becoming maddeningly red whenever you so much as make eye contact with him
yamaguchi tadashi! hits you in the head the first time he meets you. he was in the gym alone, practicing his float serve. you pushed through the heavy metal doors just in time to get slammed in the face with a ball gone awry.
he feels his heart drop to his toes as he quickly rushes over to you, asking if you're alright and if you need to see the nurse. his panic only worsens when he realizes you're bleeding from your nose.
although the hit shocked you, you're left watching in amusement as tadashi scrambles to find something to stop your nosebleed with. when he eventually returns to you, having ran from the boys washroom to grab a wad of papertowel, he apologizes again softly.
"are you okay now...?" he asks when your nosebleed finally stops. he looks almost like a kicked puppy, his hair falling limply into his eyes.
even after you reassure him that you're fine, tadashi still wears his guilt like a crown. he offers to buy you something from the vending machines, and does so despite your insistence that he doesn't need to.
"you can accept it for my sake," he says sheepishly as he offers you the cold can. the two of you converse quietly, with you introducing yourself as a new foreign exchange student.
"oh!" he suddenly lets out, looking over at you. "did you need something in the gym?"
"i was looking for my cousin," you sigh. "he said he was in the volleyball club and i haven't been able to find him at all today."
he's shocked when he finds out that you're shoyo's cousin—the boy had talked about you earlier in the week when he found out you were transferring to karasuno. as you talk, tadashi thinks to himself that shoyo never mentioned how cute you were.
your first meeting with keishin is awkward
ltrly knocks you off your feet when he runs into you
he's kind of brash when he meets you, not caring if you think of him badly because of it
you don't have much of a relationship at first—your work pulls you to the classrooms after all, so he doesn't really see you around often
the next time he sees you, you're stomping into the gymnasium mid practice with an irked expression
he's about to tell you off for interrupting practice, but he quiets when he sees you make your way to your younger cousin
he only watches in amusement when you tell him off for his horrid grades
when shoyo turns to keishin for help, he only shrugs with a lazy grin on his face
"sorry, little man, you heard 'em. no volleyball games until you raise your grades"
to shoyo's chagrin, you and keishin make a terrifying pair for him (and the other three idiots lolol)
you only really start hanging out with him when you end up making a late night run at his convenience store
it's the first time he sees you in casual clothing and the case of beer in your hands makes him laugh
"you wanna share that?"
he becomes your drinking buddy every other weekend, and he grows to cherish the time you spend chugging back cans of beer with him
keeps his feelings on the downlow, but as time goes on even the boys realize that their coach has a soft spot for you
ukai keishin! bodies you the first time you meet. the man doesn't realize his own strength until he literally knocks you flat on his ass after he turns a corner and bumps into you. his eyes go wide when the books and papers in your hands go flying, falling around you in a frenzy.
"shit," he curses under his breath, bending down to pick up your things. "sorry 'bout that." his voice is gruff as he speaks, collecting your papers without much care. when he returns them to you, some of them are scuffed and crumpled.
as he's handing you your things, he finally gets a good look at you. you're dressed more formally than he is by a mile. he holds a hand out to help you to your feet, his brown eyes falling to the lanyard around your neck.
"you new here?" he asks, jutting his chin out to gesture to your nametag. student teacher is typed above your name and picture.
you nod deftly, brushing off any dirt from your dress pants. "i started today. and you are?" your eyes meet his, and he knows you're silently scrutinizing him. he's much too old to be a student, you deduce easily, but he's dressed far more casually than any other other teachers.
when your eyes drift up to his bleached hair, he snorts. "i'm the coach for the volleyball club," he grumbles. "i don't need to be wearing fancy shit like you."
he sees your eyes light up in recognition as he analyzes your face with crossed arms. "the volleyball club? you must know my cousin then. hinata shoyo?"
keishin deadpans at you. "you're the runt's cousin?"
©AVATARCHIC please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#sawamura daichi#sugawara koshi#azumane asahi#nishinoya yuu#tanaka ryuunosuke#kageyama tobio#hinata shoyo#tsukishima kei#yamaguchi tadashi#ukai keishin#sawamura daichi x reader#daichi x reader#sugawara koshi x reader#sugawara x reader#azumane asahi x reader#asahi x reader#nishinoya yuu x reader#yuu x reader#tanaka ryunosuke x reader#tanaka x reader#kageyama tobio x reader#kageyama x reader#tsukishima kei x reader#tsukishima x reader#yamaguchi tadashi x reader#yamaguchi x reader
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First born Headcannons! Multi/Fem!Afab! Reader - Angel, Colossus, Nightcrawler, Gambit OKAY FUCK I don't know what came over me it just happened okay??? This whole thing started thinkin about colossus and a lil baby and then I was thinking about Warren taking the nightshift with his own baby and I spiraled from there. Warren's is like twice as long as everyone elses my bad yall. If there are any typos don't make fun of me ill fix them tomorrow I'm so tired lol TWs: Childbirth mentioned (Not described tho), Babies, wholesome shit. I know that some of these characters have had kids in the comics and that these hcs may be ooc, but I do not care lol. Little bit of anxiety and panic, but everything is okay.
Warren Worthington
Warren is such a dad. I don't even know how to describe it. Like, he's not as effortlessly fatherly like Piotr is, but once he has a kid he's devoted to making sure this kid gets all the emotional, physical, and financial support they would ever need.
He had such a rocky childhood with his own dad, so he hates the idea of his child ever going through the same sort of thing.
He might be a little clueless with the actual baby things, like when to feed, how to dress, and what to feed his little one, but he does take diaper duty as his sole purpose in life. He does adjust for the things he lacks though, and gradually adjusts to be better at them!
He's strangely good with babies, even before he had his own! There's just something about him that makes them stop crying. He's also an expert at nap times.
It’s an early weekday afternoon. The sun is shining through the blinds in warm golden rays, the sink clean and the dishwasher running. There’s a click once the message on the answering machine stops playing, and you have an uncertain frown on your face as you take it all in.
The house is silent, brightly decorated with pictures of your close friends lining the walls of the hallway. The sounds of your husband quietly shushing your infant son gradually become easier to hear when you reach the cracked door of the nursery, pushing it open as quietly as you can.
Warren’s back is facing you, fluffy wings almost glowing where the sunrays touch his feathers. Your newborn is sleeping in his arms, napping after a lunchtime bottle. He’s bouncing the baby just slightly, and you swear you can see his smile without ever having to see his face. It’s a sweet moment you want to crystalize in your memories. You lean against the doorway, smiling just as bright as you’re sure he is.
"Hi~" You say sweetly after a moment. You were right. Warren’s happy smile is bright and blinding when he turns to look at you.
"Hey," He says quickly, lifting your sleeping son so that you can see him better. "Hi Mama, say hi Mama!" Warren whispers as he lifts the baby’s pudgy little hand to wave at you. You can’t help but giggle, walking forward to kiss both of them on their cheeks- your little one not stirring from his nap. You take a breath afterward, leaning against his side as you debate telling him.
“Something wrong?” Warren asks, one of his wings stretching out to wrap around your side and pull you closer to him. Normally you giggle, but today you bite your lip, unsure.
"Your dad called." Your words are soft when you say it, and Warren immediately laughs in a way that sounds more like a scoff.
“His secretary, you mean.” Warren attempts to correct, and his joking tone makes you frown a little, rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to be soothing.
“No, not her, honey.” Warren stays silent after you say it, his brow furrowing as his face turns into a reflection of confusion and sadness. You can see the conflict as he turns the words over in his head, cooing and shushing your son back to sleep when he starts to stir a little, feeling the atmosphere shift.
“...what did he want?” He asks, voice low and quiet.
“He left a message on the answering machine if you want to listen to it.” You tell him. “He, well… He wants to meet his grandson.” Warren scoffs at that, shaking his head as he starts to pace the room a little. You stand there, grounded as you watch him process the sudden contact.
“He really said that? After all he’s put me through, he wants to meet our son… What a joke.” You grimace when Warren starts to laugh. He finally stops pacing to gently lay your son back in his crib. He leans against the side with one hand as the other rubs his eyes before it slides up to run through his hair.
“Do you want him to?” You ask after a moment, stepping over to his side. He leans into your touch when you reach out to hold his cheek.
“I-” Warren stops himself, taking a deep breath as he takes your hand in his own. “What do you want to do?” He asks instead. You shake your head at him, taking hold of his hand in both of yours, tracing the wedding band on his finger.
“He’s your dad, love. It’s your choice.” You say softly. Warren is still frowning, and he lets out a long breath, deflating a little bit. He turns around to face you, pressing a kiss to your temple and holding you there for a long moment. You wish you had even a fraction of Jean’s or the Professor’s power, if only you could see what was going on in that head of his. He pulls you into a side hug, and the two of you spend a long while looking at your infant in the crib. The perfect mixture of the both of you. Certain to be a mutant in his own right. You can tell Warren spends every second thinking about it.
When he steps away from you, He’s silent.
“Warren?” You call out for him as he leaves the room. You’re about to follow when you hear the distinct sound of your son about to wake up, the little whine catching your attention as you coo him back to sleep instead. The door to the nursery is open, and just faintly down the hall, you hear the sound of the landline starting to ring.
“Hey, Dad, it’s Warren. Is Saturday okay?”
Piotr Rasputin
GOD this man is so good with kids. I mean, have you seen those comic panels with him and his sister??
This man was made, built, forged to be a dad. He's protective but encouraging, and although he may be blunt, he knows when his kiddo needs some comfort.
He takes all the classes with you during the pregnancy, and he knows he'd never hurt his baby, but there's always a lil bit of worry in the back of his mind. He's a little too strong, and he hates the thought of slipping up and accidentally harming this fragile little soul the two of you brought into this world.
He gains confidence with time, and when the baby arrives he's always carrying them securely on one thick arm, belly down as they sleep soundly against him.
His baby is so small when they hand her to him in the hospital. She's tiny. Smaller than the width of his arm. He looks like a giant as he holds her, sat next to your bedside as you recover from her delivery. He's in awe as he looks at her, a tiny little life, the greatest gift you've ever given him besides your hand in marriage.
You and others had always joked that his baby would be huge, big-headed, 99th percentile, and he never minded it. It was no secret that he was a big man, and he didn't mind what size the baby was as long as it was healthy, and looking at the little bundle of joy in his arms, he decides he wouldn't have it any other way.
It's almost comical, how small she is. Hell, even you might have doubted the paternity of the baby girl if it hadn't been for her head of pitch-black hair, and pretty blue eyes. Almost a carbon copy of himself.
“She has your eyes.” You say once her cries quiet down, and she begins to fall asleep in her father's arms.
“No.” Piotr hums, gingerly touching his daughter's face. “They look much more like Illyana's.” You hadn't thought about that before, but now that he mentions it, the resemblance is undeniable. You giggle at that, Scooting closer so that you can lean on his shoulder.
“The nurse said that she's waiting outside, when you're ready. I'm sure she's beyond excited to meet her niece.” You mumble. Piotr has placed a finger in the palm of your baby's hand, both of you smiling when the little fingers do their best to try and close around his fingertip. Piotr cannot wait to see the face of his sister when she sees your baby, but he'll be the first to admit, he'd like it if this moment could just last a little while longer.
Kurt wagner
Kurt is such a good dad oh my god.
He's always talking about you and the kids, bragging about literally everything you do ever. He's the kind of dad that has endless photos of his kiddos in his wallet, car, locker, everywhere.
And he's so devoted, too. He'll do anything you ask him to do during the newborn stage (and after) and is beyond supportive. His goals are happy Spouse, Happy kids, Happy life.
He's also very sentimental :) he thanks god every day for you and the blessing that is your baby.
Kurt’s side of the bed was empty when you woke up this morning, and despite the normal amount of anxiety you normally feel when that happens, you feel peaceful. You’re smiling at the empty mattress, rolling over to his side to push your face into his pillow, taking a deep breath. Used to, you would be worried. You would wonder where he was, or if he was safe. If he had gone off on some x-men mission without telling you (which he never did). But today, you know exactly where he is. You’re smiling now as you think about it, pressing a kiss to his pillow before standing up.
There’s a soft humming in the house, quiet and soothing. It’s not hard to figure out where it’s coming from, the path to the spare room having become second nature to you- although, it really wasn’t much of a spare room anymore. You try not to be too loud when you enter the room through the cracked door.
Kurt is humming sweetly, your son laid out on the changing table as Kurt finishes worming his pudgy little legs through a new onesie. The baby whines a little, squirming around as Kurt attempts to change his clothes.
“Patience, Mein kleiner Schatz. This won’t take long.” Kurt says sweetly. Your son isn’t really having this whole changing business, and it makes Kurt chuckle. His tail is wrapped around a bottle of milk, and he sets it to the side right before he snakes his tail over the crib. He brushes the spaded end lovingly over your baby’s cheek as a distraction, and the infant coos as he finishes getting his arms through the sleeves. His tail takes over from there, buttoning the onesie's clasps as he turns to grab the bottle of milk instead- stopping for a split second when he sees you in the doorway. Kurt smiles.
“How are my boys?” You ask, voice a little rough from sleep.
“Gut! And lively, it seems.” He tells you. He passes the bottle off to his tail again when you walk over, taking you into his arms as he shakes the formula up a little more. Kurt kisses you sweetly on the lips, pressing his forehead against your own when you separate.
“Guten Morgen, Schatz. How are you feeling?” You swear you fall in love with him all over again each day when he greets you like that. You shrug your shoulders in response, smile dropping just a little bit.
“I’m okay. Still tired, and definitely still bloated, but I’m okay.” You admit. Kurt frowns a little, brushing some hair from your face.
“Did you see the medicine I left for you on the nightstand?” Kurt asks, and you immediately make a bit of a silly face, remembering that you didn’t exactly get up on your own side of the bed today. Kurt knows what that looks means and begins to laugh, just as your son begins to whimper and whine to be held and fed. You try to go pick him up, but Kurt stops you as he picks your baby up instead, bottle at the ready.
“Go take your meds, I’ve got him, Liebchen.”
Remy LeBeau
Remy is a little nervous to be a dad.
Not in a flight way!! He's just a little worried that he'll be a bad influence on the kiddo. and well, I mean sure. If you're worried about the kiddo being a little rager and being into a few to many wild hobbies I guess (usually comes with the cajun territory)- but overall, Gambit is such a sweetheart, and if anything his kiddos would be so respectful and loving towards their parents.
Remy's very protective over your baby. The protectiveness is at it's height around 0-3yrs of age, but it never, ever goes away completely.
He might talk some smack about how a little bit of dirt/germs never hurt anyone, but He's actually the kind of dad that makes everyone put germex on before even thinking about holding the baby.
He's on top of feedings, and never fears a blowout when it comes to changing diapers (no matter how much he might gag). He might not have the diaper back stocked and loaded 24/7, but he's doing the best he can.
When you wake up, It’s about 3am. Your eyes blink oper wearily, and the light from the alarm clock is practically burning into your eyes. You want nothing more to curl up and go back to sleep, and you almost do, until the time actually registers.
3am. Its 3am, and you went to bed at 10pm. This is the first time you’ve woken up since then. Your veins feel like ice when you realize that you haven't heard the baby cry once. You rip the cover off of you, breaking out in a panicked run across the hall to check on your newborn. You don’t even realize that Remy isn’t even in bed until you slam the door open and see him standing there, your daughter in his arms as he rocks her to sleep in the rocking chair You breathe a sigh of relief as he looks at you with a tired smile, but your anxiety still remains.
“Remy? Is she okay?” You whisper, practically leaping over to his side to take the little one out of his arms.
“She’s Okay, Cher.” Remy replies softly. He stands from the chair, wrapping his hands around your back, the infant snug in between your bodies. You sigh again, taking a moment to look at your daughter carefully, eyeing her chest as it rises and falls, and straining your ears to hear her breathing. Remy gives you a second to get situated, yawning just a bit as he sways the three of you as you stand there. You relax as he holds you both, resting your head against his shoulder.
“Why don’ you go back to bed.” Remy says after a long minute. “That was the longest I’ve seen you sleep in a while.” You frown. He’s not wrong. Your newborn has been a bit colicky lately, crying for nights on end since you brought her home with very few things to keep her comfortable. She has started to grow out of it, but the effects still remained. She cries a lot at nighttime, and it makes you wonder if that’s why you had slept so long, because of Remy staying up to keep her quiet.
“And leave you here? Remy, how long have you been awake?” You ask, looking up at his face. He shrugs, smiling still as the three of you sway.
“I’m fine. I can stay up all night if I need to, as long as you get to catch up on some sleep.” If it were any other circumstance, you might have swooned at the words. As sweet is he is, you can’t let him do that! He begins to step away to place your daughter in her crib, and you hold yourself back from trying to take her from him and commanding him to just go to bed.
“Remy-”
“Ah ah ah, Cher, don’t wake ma petit, now.” Remy cuts you off with a whisper, turning around to place a finger against his lips in a shushing motion. He almost makes you giggle, but instead, you simply shake your head at him. He pulls you into a loving kiss when he’s close enough, running his hand through your hair. You know he’s waiting for you to pull back, to retreat into the bedroom to sleep like he asked you to, but you’re still hesitant. He knows your stubbornness firsthand and chuckles when he pulls back a little.
“Do I need to tuck you in, too?”
#goofyspeaks#x men#x men comics#x men 97#x men headcannons#x men 97 x reader#kurt wagner#nightcrawler#x men x reader#remy lebeau headcannons#remy lebeau x reader#remy lebeau#gambit x reader#gambit headcanons#nightcrawler x reader#nightcrawler x men#nightcrawler headcannons#kurt wagner x reader#kurt wagner headcannons#warren worthington iii x reader#warren worthington iii#warren worthington iii headcanons#x men angel x reader#x men angel headcannons#colossus x reader#colossus headcannons#piotr rasputin x reader#piotr rasputin headcannon#marvel#marvel fanfiction
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Sometimes you just have to be a lil shit about a piece of media you enjoy in a loving way lol dumpster fire (affectionate)
Been watching OSP stuff again 'cause I was talking about one of their Superman vids and how they mention Invincible in it, and just that some of the ideas of the Superman concept really should come back around for the Mark narrative but they are def going farther and farther as things progress from what could have been an interesting Superman-esque origin in Mark. And like, do your thing, but it was clearly a reference at the start, so... why NOT lean more into it?
I know I've seen chunks of BTAS and Batman Beyond, but it's all so blurry in my brain from so long ago. I remember enjoying the shit out of them! It's why I'm having a treat with Justice Leauge rn. Bc it's like, have I see this before? maybe? at some point? Like I have the vaguest recollection of the opening credits. Zero memory of Martian Manhunter (J'onn J'onnz ?? the fuck ?? lol) having so many abilities. like damn bro. you cool asf! The very simple visual worldbuilding of all Martians being nakey bc THEY'RE SHAPESHIFTERS WHY WOULDN'T THEY BE loved it
Lazy shipping. And like.. just horny shipping. Like okay, I can be down for a UST narrative, but if you want me to buy these people have more than a case of the Horny for each other, they need to be able to describe something about each other they actually like. (I also have a whole ass rant about the Gift Of Jewelry in media -eyetwtich-) And Mark and Eve are constantly in interesting situations actually dealing with ethical shit and they could have spent so much time talking about Chicago and what cleaning up there would have meant to them, and how they operate as heroes sort of outside the establish groups for whatever reason, and they could have very naturally gravitated to each other! It really is a HS crush in this iteration !! bc the moment Mark looked at her he was just like ! oh ! hero is cute girl ! and then.. had a very intense relationship with someone else and then immediately turned around and was presented with this one. It has technically been months in the time span of the narrative, but the fact it was all shoved in and carried off RIGHT ON THE BACK of his very intense break up with Amber just feels awful. Let the boy breathe jfc.
So many people are talking about Mark supposedly improving but still not improving and it HURTS bc yeah. The narrative is really just like ACTUALLY- and it's so frustrating bc, your character can improve and the situation can still be deadly! Doc Seismic doesn't need some stupid line about things changing! They DIDN'T he's still an old man with bracelets. They just STAYED FLOATING IN THE AIR and waited for his back up to arrive and then pointlessly got into fist fights with the monsters instead of immediately going to rescue the other heroes. I can get Mark sort of zeroing in on the fighting bc he doesn't really work with other people that much, but Eve ??? why the hell isn't saving the others your priority?? The fight could still have played out badly without them needing to be stupid! Mark having to protect Eve while she works ! Them having to be on the back foot so that the people in the sack things don't get squished while they work ! You don't have to be dumb to fail. And so far it really feels like everyone is acting SO STUPID and they HAVE To fail bc it's so hard when it's like ?? the same ppl you've been fighting ?? since day one ?? Is Killcannon gunna show up and shoot you through a building now ?? I'm sorry??
We really need a Debbie/Nolan flashback that's about their dynamic and NOT their dynamic as parents. Like what was your vibe as a couple!! Love that you're horny for each other, but why did you fall in love??? Of course I am also just like CAN I PLEASE GET ONE DEBBIE FACT THAT ISN'T ABOUT THE MEN IN HER LIFE. Also, pretty sure anytime she has been around Paul the convo is in some way, actually still about Nolan and it's WILD bc damn is it really moving on if he's present in Every conversation??
Invincible (derogatory) Invincible (affectionate) depends on the time of day.
Like there's no way Cecil ISN'T using it to his benefit! But him actually caring somewhat, even knowing he would STILL betray and sacrifice the kid in a heartbeat. just. yeah. Mentor Cecil/quasi father Cecil. might happen.
The several convos we've had about trusting Cecil are SO WEIRD bc literally anytime Debbie has talked to him she has been like I DO NOT TRUST YOU and then five seconds later she's all That Bitch Lied : / and it's like ??? yes ?? you said he would ?? five seconds ago ??? why are you surprised ???
FR you don't get history classes about colonialism and police states but WE WILL make you watch teletubbies and learn about the magic of friendship! Killing is BAD kids ! Don't do it ! (unless the GDA tells you to)
While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom
OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.
I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.
I love thinking about these, omg.
#invincible chatter#love how we've got these going AND STILL added more w the AO3 threads now lmao#endless fractals of worldbuilding and smack talk (affectionate)
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One Night or Forever?
Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader
Summary: When one thing leads to another, you and Daryl spend a passionate night together at the CDC. Unfortunately, neither of you is interpreting the signals right afterwards...
Warnings: 18+! MDNI! smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there - like, you know exactly what's going on), uhhh sub and dom Daryl? unprotected rough-ish sex? Daryl gets a bj (yes, you read that right), he's a bit mean, too - but also a cutie patootie, uhh slight angst? bit of drama, alcohol - drunk-ish Daryl and tipsy reader, fluff, swear words, bickering
Set in Season 1!
Word Count: 4,5k
a/n: You want it, you got it, friends. I don't know what this is, though - or which demons possessed me as I wrote it. I really don't. I also don't know how I should feel about it. Embarrassed? Proud? Send help, lol.
Anyways, I hope you like this! Please go easy on me. Smut isn't really my forte...
EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist
"Booyah!"
Daryl's toast had been the starting shot for an evening full of conversation, fun, laughter - and alcohol. Some would say reams of alcohol. Wine, booze, beer - you and the group stopped at nothing. That was probably the reason why everyone staggered somewhere on a scale between tipsy and shit faced drunk at the end of the evening.
You were currently on your way to your personal room - something you'd describe as a luxury. Sure, back at the quarry you had your own tent, but there was a huge difference between that and a whole goddamn room. With a own freaking shower! It was crazy. Who would've thought that something so plain and simple would become such a valued, precious thing? Most likely nobody, because it was something taken for granted.
Well... Not anymore. Not since the world went to shit.
After passing a very drunk Glenn on the way, you more or less stumbled into your room. Tipsy... You were definitely tipsy. Without a single care in the world, you started to shed your clothes the moment the door shut close behind you. All you wanted to do was sleep. You had too much alcohol coursing through your veins to search for something you could use as a pyjama. You hadn't a problem with sleeping naked. Not tonight.
Unfortunately had your plan a catch... One that you weren't aware of yet.
This wasn't your room.
You were just about to free your body of the last piece of fabric you were wearing - a pair of admittedly beautiful dark blue lace panties, when a sudden voice managed to almost send you into cardiac arrest.
"Wha' the fuck 'r ya doin' in my room?!"
You startled so bad, that you almost lost balance and fell flat on your ass. Your balance was a bit off-track anyways, due to the wine...
With wide eyes you turned around to face the intruder.
"Daryl?"
You blinked. "What are you doing here?" He scoffed; his cheeks puffed out and reddened. He had been drinking way more than you did, and it showed. The archer's hands were fumbling clumsily with the fly of his jeans. "Jus' been taken a damn piss, 'n 'm comin' back to find ya standin' in my room." You crossed your arms over your bare - an information which hadn't reached Daryl's brain yet - chest. "This is clearly my room, Dixon." He scoffed again. "'S not!" "Yes, it is!" "'S not!" The man took a few wobbly steps closer. "Go bullshit someone else, I-" He stopped abruptly in the middle of his sentence; eyes widening to the size of plates. Now the information had been received and processed.
"Yer almost naked," he stated; bluntly staring.
Oh, you suddenly realised and remembered as well. He was right.
In any other situation, you'd have frantically tried to cover yourself up and perhaps even threw an insult at the man standing across from you, but the alcohol lowered your boundary of shame and loosened you up; making you see things more relaxed.
You huffed out a breath. "Yeah, no shit, Sherlock." Daryl still blinked and tried very hard to not let his eyes drop, but that was an almost impossible task for the alcoholized man. "Why?" You shrugged your shoulders. "'Cause I wanted to go to sleep." The archer swallowed hard. "In my room? Naked? Ya lost yer damn mind, woman?" "It's my room," your tipsy self was still profoundly convinced, while you made your way over to the bed on slightly wobbly legs. Daryl just watched you; flabbergasted, speechless, shocked - and incredibly turned on. After all, he had a damn pretty woman in his room - no, bed. Half naked!
"You could join me, Dixon." He scoffed again and tried to walk in a straight line over to the armchair; accepting his fate. "In yer damn dreams. 'S ain't gonna help me - or my hard-on." You giggled at his words like a schoolgirl and rolled around in the sheets. "That the reason why you can't get that zipper up? You like me, Daryl? Like what you see?" You pestered him with questions; smirking, and watched his cheeks redden even more - if that was physically possible and your eyes didn't betray you. "Shuddup," Daryl just growled in response. You giggled again, before a long beat of silence passed between the both of you.
The alcohol didn't just lower your boundary of shame... It also caused you to become bolder. "I could help you with that, you know..." You tried to sound as flirty and seductive as possible and turned in the sheets once more, but now to face the man sitting across from the bed. You perched yourself onto your stomach and crossed your ankles in the air; swaying your legs.
Gods, you felt like a teenager again. Damn the alcohol and your crush on the archer. It was a dangerous combination, since you hadn't planned to actually act on said crush. Well, and here you were now in his - nu.uh, your - bed, almost naked and trying to seduce him.
Some might say this escalated quickly...
"Help me with wha'?" The archer finally responded after a long moment; dumbfounded. His usually very smart and witty brain slowed down by the alcohol. You thought for a hot minute that he had already fallen asleep on you. You rolled your eyes and groaned - acting like Daryl just said the stupidest thing in the world. "Your boner," you deadpanned - as if it was the most normal thing to say.
The archer swallowed hard; feeling his chest (and pants) tightening.
"Wha'?" He crooked out. The normally so talkative, glibly redneck seemingly rendered speechless by your boldness.
Once again, you rolled your eyes. "Do you reaaaaally want me to spell it out for you, D?" Daryl clearly needed a moment to recover, but once he did, he scoffed.
"Pf, yer bluffin'."
"I'm not."
"Yeah, ya 'r."
"No, I'm not."
"Yes, ya 'r. Can tell. Yer way to innocent fer shit like tha', sunshine."
"Are you challenging me, Dixon?"
"Nah, jus' statin' facts."
Now you were the one who scoffed. He really asked for it, didn't he? You smirked and hid your face in the blanket beneath you. Oh, you were so going to prove him wrong.
You rolled your barely covered body around a third time, but this time to get up from the bed - which was a much more difficult task than expected, but you made it in the end - even though not gracefully and certainly not seductively. "Facts, huh?" You asked the crossbow-wielding archer then with a raised eyebrow and your hands on your hips. He crossed his arms over his plaid beige-brown shirt clad chest; bare forearms and biceps bulging with the movement. "Yes, facts." Although he stared into your eyes with his blue coloured irises, he still had a hard time for them to actually stay on your face.
"Well, you can go screw your opinions - or me. Your choice, pretty boy," you stated and shrugged your shoulders as you bridged the short distance between the bed and the armchair. Before the younger Dixon could even do as much as open his mouth for a snarky respond, you had dropped to your knees in front of him - between his manspread legs.
Daryl's eyes widened and his jaw slacked. "Wha' 'r ya doin'?!" He literally screeched and gripped the armrests of the armchair. "Proofing you wrong, pretty boy." You smiled up at him like a Cheshire cat; hands and fingers clumsily trying to open his jeans. "F-Fuckin' hell, wha'?! Yer insane, woman!" The archer cursed above you, but also didn't make any moves to stop you. So, you took that as a sign to continue. And continuing you did...
It took you a hot minute to get your eye-hand coordination straight and overcome the obstacles which were his jeans and boxers, but once you did, there was no holding back. "Ya really gonna do th- F-Fuck..."
You did.
"Told you, Dixon," you stated with a mischievous glimmer in your eyes; hands firmly cupping him. Daryl answered nothing. The archer had a hard time to control his breathing and rapidly beating heart. He was still gripping the armrests like a vice - his knuckles already turning white. He really couldn't believe this was happening right now. Was he asleep and dreaming? Was he hallucinating? Did the wine manage to fog up his brain so much that his eyes were deceiving him? But when he felt your lips wrap around him, he instantly threw all those thoughts overboard again. This was real. It had to be real. After all, he was feeling it, right?
"F-Fuckin' hell," he cursed again; feeling waves of pleasure crash over him. One of his hands loosened its grip on the armrest and went in your hair instead - tying your loose hair into a makeshift ponytail. You were already too far gone to care; the taste of him addictive.
Working your magic, you tried to grant the man above you as much pleasure as possible - and it seemed to work. Within a few minutes, Daryl was a whimpering mess - a side you'd never thought you were ever going to see of him. Not in your wildest dreams.
"Ain't... Ain't g-gonna last," the archer panted breathlessly; the hand in your hair twitching. You didn't want him to. You wanted him to fall apart. A gentle squeeze of your hand was all it took. "Y-Y/N, damnit, 'm gon'- Gonna cu-" His sentence got interrupted by a low moan that paved its way to the forefront of his lips. The hand in your hair twitched again as he attempted to pull you off him. You didn't let him, though, and easily dodged his lousy attempt. Instead, you helped him ride the wave. His thighs twitched; muscles tensing as his high crashed into him. Daryl felt like he had been hit by an eighteen-wheeler - but in the best way possible. It had been so long...
The gentle grip he had of your hair slackened; hand falling limply to his side. You lifted your head to look at him to witness his blissed-out state. Daryl's eyes were closed, and his breathing laboured. You smiled; hands gently caressing his clothed thighs. "You believe me now, D?" He gave you a mere nod. Clearly he needed another few moments to get his head straight again. Your smile never ceased as you kept up your fingers movements. Your knees protested by now, but you didn't care.
Another few moments passed, before the archer peeled his eyes open again. Seeing you still on your knees for him managed to send another shockwave of arousal throughout his entire body.
Wide-blown eyes stared at you intensely; the gears turning in his fogged up head.
"T-Thanks, I guess," he whispered then. His voice was still hoarse. You smiled up at him. "You're welcome, pretty boy. Said I'm gonna help you." Daryl nodded almost shyly and clumsily stuffed himself back inside his boxers. You eyed him thoroughly and started to giggle. "Didn't think you'd loose it so fast. Wouldn't have pecked you to be a... premature guy." Not that it mattered to you, but you couldn't help yourself but to tease him a bit. It was meant to be a playful comment, but you seemed to hit a sore spot...
You could practically see how his eyes darkened, before he narrowed them. "Whatcha say, huh?" He asked in a gruff voice and stood up; towering over you. You blinked - were a bit taken aback by the sudden shift in his demeanour. "I-I, uh... Said I didn't think you'd be one t-to, uh, come too early..." The archer growled under his breath. "Ya better watch yer mouth, sunshine," he said in a threatening tone and grabbed your arms to pull you up on your feet. Daryl quickly noticed, though, that his legs were even more wobbly now that they've already been before; forcing him to take cautious steps. "What are we doing, pretty boy? You gonna make me pay for saying that?" You gave another sassy remark; provoking him and tickling his nerve ends even further. A grunt passed his chapped lips as he dragged you with him. Once close to the bed, he wrapped his arms firmly around your bare midsection and literally threw you onto the bed - wobbly legs be damned. You giggled at his eagerness and slid upwards to rest your head on one of the pillows; giving the man a confident look. "C'mon then, pretty boy, show me what you got. I know you want to." He scoffed and crawled on the bed. "Pretty boy my ass." You just giggled again. You felt intoxicated by the wine you had consumed and definitely aroused - which got only worse when you felt calloused, deft hands gripping your delicate skin. Daryl parted your legs and settled on his knees between them. His eyes were directed on your face. He looked like a predator - ready to attack his prey. It was incredibly hot.
"'M gonna shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers, just ya wait," he growled in a deep voice, and wrapped his arms and hands around your thighs like a snake - holding them firmly and simultaneously keeping you splayed open for him, before he literally yanked you down; bringing your hips closer to his.
Your breath hitched in your throat at his sudden movement and the upcoming anticipation.
His fingertips danced over the skin on your hips then - and suddenly got your dark blue lace panties ripped into shreds.
"Daryl!" You shrieked, then gasped. "Those were my favourites, I-" "'S jus' a damn piece 'a fabric. Dun be such a crybaby," he interrupted you; instantly putting you in your place. Your mouth clapped shut. This was yet another new side of him. Sure, you knew he was hotheaded, but he literally just went from kinda submissive to dominant within the blink of an eye. Was it the alcohol? Or truly his temper?
The clinking of his belt ripped you out of your thoughts. Some shuffling and the rustling of fabric was the only premonition you got, before you felt him against your hot and pulsating center. Your hips instantly bucked; trying to get closer.
More friction.
More pleasure.
More of Daryl.
The archer hovering above you scoffed. "Look how needy ya are. Dun even hafta prepare ya." You could see the corners of his mouth twitching into a small smirk. "Tis all jus' from gettin' me off, huh?" You nodded and bit your lip. Daryl on the contrary shook his head, "Yer tha' desperate? Pf... Pathetic." and lined himself up, before hitting home.
Stars exploded in front of your eyes as his hips met yours. The most sinful moan the archer had ever heard in his life slipped past your lips; only spurring him on more. He picked up a firm, steady pace - leaving you a mess beneath him barely within a few minutes. Just what you did to him.
Revenge was sweet, wasn't it?
His precise, powerful thrusts carried you from one high to the next - and Daryl enjoyed it. He loved to see you fall apart beneath him. And this time, he was the one lasting longer. "Who's commin' too soon now, huh? 'S not me, sunshine. Told ya I'd shut tha' sassy mouth 'a yers," he growled lowly; slowing his pace to just give you a few moments of recovery. You moaned at the sheer endless pleasure he granted you. Your hands gripped his thick arms like a vice after he had planted both palms firmly in the mattress beside your head to gain more leverage. "F-Fuck, Daryl," you whimpered; fingernails digging into his sweaty biceps. "I know. Jus' one more, 'kay? Can ya give me one more?" You nodded wordlessly. "Good girl," the archer praised and picked up his speed once again; pulling another sweet moan alongside some incoherent noises from you.
Your hands travelled. They left his arms to rest on his chest, where they fisted the fabric of his plaid shirt with the ripped off sleeves. The fabric held a darkened stain - a puddle of sweat formed on his chest.
Your hands continued to fist his shirt, as you pulled - an attempt to undo a few buttons. But once the archer noticed what your mission was, he stopped dead in his movements. "Nah, dun do tha'," he scolded you instantly and peeled your hands away from the fabric covering his upper body. "W-Why?" You asked breathlessly; not understanding his sudden mood shift. "'"Cause I told ya to!" He snapped.
Just in that moment, you realised that you must've hit another sore spot... But this time one that actually seemed to get to him. Not one that managed to turn him on.
"S-Sorry, D-Daryl, I-" You immediately apologised, but got interrupted once more. "Keep holdin' on ta my arms, if yer need sum'thin' to hold on to." His voice was gruff, but way more soft than a few moments ago. The archer redirected your hands and placed them once more around his sweaty biceps. Without another word, he continued where he left off, causing your grip to instantly tighten. "There ya go," he praised you again and readjusted your legs with his thighs. Just the slight change of angle was enough to send you a third time over the edge. This time, though, you dragged him right with you.
A broken sound - close to a cry, left the man's lips as he pulled out and coated the supple skin of your stomach with his release. A single droplet of sweat rolled down his neck as he threw his head back in ecstasy. It was a sight to behold. A sight you might never forget for the rest of your life - no matter how long your life was going to be.
A few moments later collapsed Daryl on the mattress beside you. He was clearly spent. Perhaps this had been something you both needed. Who knew?
"Imma take a shower," the archer announced after a while and left the bed - but not before gentleman-like wiping the mess he made on your stomach away with his hand. Without another word, he left, while you just laid there - still naked and staring at the ceiling; recalling in your mind what just happened. The sex managed to sober you up a bit. Did that really just happen? Had you been dreaming this?
You heard the water run, but not how Daryl returned to the room and settled down for the night in the armchair. You had ventured off to dreamland at some point.
To say the next morning was awkward was an absolute understatement. Awkward was not even remotely enough to describe the vibe between the both of you.
When you woke up again, the archer was nowhere to be seen. Now sober, you left the bed, picked up your clothes, noticed that you truly were - in fact in his room, and tiptoed butt naked down the hallway into your room. Luckily nobody had seen you. That would've been scandalous, right?
Your luck was also that everybody was quite hungover from last night. Some more, some less. Therefore noticed nobody the way you and Daryl acted around each other.
You could barely manage to look into his eyes.
You felt ashamed; thinking that you pushed him too far yesterday night. Thinking, that you were too bold and unable to control your damn feelings. Thinking that you pushed him away, instead of drawing him in. You anticipated that the archer must hate you now - and you couldn't even blame him...
Nevertheless seemed a conversation inevitable. You didn't want to destroy the friendship - if you could even call it that - the both of you had before last night.
It took you days to bite the bullet and ask him to talk, though. Sure, you had been on the road again since the CDC was a dead end, but that wasn't an excuse in your eyes.
"D-Daryl?" You approached him cautiously as you found him alone in the stables of the Greene farm; saddling a horse to go looking for Sophia. "Whatcha want?" He asked you and gave you a short look. You swallowed nervously. "Can we, uh, can we talk?" "'Bout wha'?" You watched him work for a moment, while your fingers fumbled with the hem of your t-shirt; trying to gather all the courage you could find. "That, uh, night at the CDC..." Your words came out as a whisper, but Daryl heard them nonetheless - and froze in all his tracks.
"Why'd ya wanna talk 'bout tha'?" He asked nonchalantly after a beat of silence and continued his work; had seemingly shaken off the small 'shock' quite quick. "I-I..." You started and sighed. "Things f-feel so weird between us since that n-night, and... I don't want that. I-I'm sorry for what I did. I'm s-sorry for making you sleep with me." Your eyes were stuck on him. You watched him and tried to gauge his reaction - afraid of what was going to happen.
"Yer sorry 'bout it?" Daryl asked then - almost in disbelief. Then he scoffed. "Do ya regret it?"
That was a question you didn't see coming. A question you haven't thought about yet. Did you regret it? Your memories took you back in time; letting you relive that night you shared with him. The answer was clear - as you quickly discovered.
"No, I don't, but... It was wrong. I shouldn't have-" "Wrong?" He interrupted you. His voice appalled. "Tha's what ya think 'bout this? 'Bout... us?" Daryl accused you with a grimace on his face. Was that... sadness you could detect in his blue orbs? Hurt?
You blinked; "U-Us?" were definitely confused by his words. "W-What do you mean 'us'?" "Ya know wha' I mean, Y/N." You shook your head. "No, Daryl. No, I don't. We've been practically ignoring each other since the CDC. We can't even talk properly! Neither of us can look into the other's eyes! Everything is just... weird, and you talk about an 'us'? No, I don't get it. Tell me. Explain it."
A frustrated huff left the archer's lips, before he started to gnaw at the pad of his thumb; averting your eyes. All of a sudden, the usually so confident redneck became all shy and insecure. "Dunno how," he started; merely shrugging his shoulders. "'S difficult, 'n I ain't good with words." "Try it, D," you encouraged him and gave him a soft smile. "Please. I want to make things right between us again." The archer nodded and took another moment - most likely to gather his thoughts. "'S tha' feeling, ya know? Can't pin it down. Always feelin' so strange whenever yer close to me."
Your heart skipped more than just one beat as his words urged to your ears. Could it be...? No...
"W-What do you feel? Can you... describe it?" Daryl lowered his gaze to the ground. The little stone laying beside his left foot suddenly became really interesting. "Jus' strange. Gets harder to breathe, 'n... My stomach's all messed up. Feels like an itch I can't scratch." You couldn't believe this was happening. Did that night cause Daryl to fall in love with you? "You're doing good, D. Keep going. What else?" You had to know.
He grunted; his foot playing with that little stone, before kicking it aimlessly over the concrete ground. "I... always go back to tha' night in my head. Can't forget it. Yer look. Yer touch. The way ya felt, I-" He stopped himself to take a deep breath. And you smiled. Perhaps having slept with him hadn't been a mistake. Perhaps you interpreted his behaviour wrong. Perhaps you just misread the signs...
"I jus' dunno how to act 'round ya. I dunno wha's happening to me. Tha's why I ain't talkin' to ya. Didn't mean to ignore ya..." Daryl apologised with his head still lowered.
You stepped closer to him and cautiously reached for his hand. He flinched, but didn't pull away. "Daryl, I... I think I know what happened to you," you whispered. "'N wha's tha'?" He asked; finally brave enough to lift his head to look into your eyes. You smiled and squeezed his hand. "I think you... are in love."
As quick as the man had lowered his guard, as quick was it up again.
He pulled his hand out of your grasp and scoffed, before he took a few steps back. "Pf. Love? Me? Tha's ridiculous, woman - 'n we both know it!" "Is it, yeah? You really think so?" "Yes!" He yelled, and wanted to rush past you - but you stopped him with your palm splayed on his chest. You didn't know if what your heart made you do was a wise decision, but it acted on its own will. Your head was powerless anyway.
Daryl's eyes travelled from yours to the hand on his chest and back. "Whatcha doin', woman?! Leave me the hell alo-" You had heard enough. You had held yourself back long enough. This was the only option you had left. It was do or die.
You cut the man off with standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips to his. It was a chaste, gentle kiss - but nonetheless meaningful. It felt so right. So good. His lips so soft and warm - compared to his seemingly rough exterior. His blond-brown goatee tickled your skin in the best way possible.
Once more, Daryl froze to the ground; not moving a muscle.
When your lips left his again with a soft pop and you reopened your eyes, you could see how his eyelids fluttered slowly open as well. You could feel his heart galloping underneath your palm. "What do you feel now, Daryl?" You asked in a hushed tone. Your eyes never left his. The archer swallowed hard. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. "I-I-I..." He stammered out; his cheeks heating up. "G-Good," he croaked out. "R-Real good." You smiled - happy that your heart had made the right decision. "Wanna do it again?" He blinked. The tips of his ears got red as well. "I-If yer willin' t-to k-kiss me again?" Your smile even widened, before you reached up to cup his beardy, red cheeks in your palms to pull him into another kiss. Daryl gasped against your lips; eyes falling shut and lips following your lead. It caused the kiss to get more intimate. More demanding. More passionate.
His hands acted on their own will, as they settled on your waist and pulled you closer. Your body crashed against his. You could tell that he hadn't kissed a lot in his life; his movements clumsy and messy - but perfectly Daryl. And you loved it. You didn't care how experienced or skilled he was. All you cared about was him - and all the love he deserved you wanted to give him.
He was far from perfect; had his flaws - but so were you.
"What do you say now about love, pretty boy?" You asked in a playful, yet loving manner; your hands crossed behind his neck. Daryl's hands gently squeezed your sides, "Shuddup." before he dipped his head to indulge you into yet another kiss.
Yeah... He was definitely whipped.
Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @dixonsdarkelf @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep
#daryl dixon#daryl dixon smut#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon fanfic#daryl dixon the walking dead#the walking dead daryl#daryl dixon x female reader#daryl dixon x you#daryl dixon x y/n#daryl dixon fan fiction#daryl dixon fanfiction#twd daryl#twd daryl dixon#twd fic#twd fanfiction#twd#the walking dead#the walking dead fanfiction#the walking dead fic#the walking dead fanfic#daryl x reader#twd smut#the walking dead smut
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hey, if you haven’t wrote this before i was wondering if you could write a fic about spencer catching you admiring his hands and later on he fingers you (idk how to word this properly 😭)
fingers crossed | s.r
spencer reid x bau!reader
a/n: this is literally my brand fr
cw: 18+ no minors, fingering, reader is afab, spencer’s slutty ass hands, soft dom spence (duh), praise kink, office shenanigans lol
wc: 1.5k
—
you should’ve known you’d get caught, you work on a team of people literally trained to notice things. you working on that team meant that you thought you could be subtle. yet it didn’t stop you from gaping at spencer whenever he used those fucking hands of his.
it started off innocently, becoming so entranced when he would explain the geographical profile to the team on cases and his massive hands would span the map occasionally using a finger to point out a spot. then it was the way his veined hand engulfed his pistol, so much that it could disappear if he tried. you took detours on the days you knew spencer would be in the training range just so you could watch his fingers pull the trigger over and over again.
you’d go home thinking about those hands, how they would feel roaming your body, squeezing your chest, placed on your throat. it was enough to make yourself come three times over, just imagining what his fingers would feel like inside you. but it never felt as satisfying as what you really craved.
the next day you’d come to work, you and spencer had to work on a report together, and you weren’t sure how you were gonna keep your shit together if he was less than a foot away from you.
he pulled up a chair to your desk and you both started going over the files, and he’d occasionally reach over your lap to point something out in the files you were holding. he’d nonchalantly brush his fingers on your thighs, your shoulders, even placing his hand on the small of your back when hotch had called both of you to his office. it was turning you on so bad, you were getting wetter by the second that you had to cross your legs to find some satiation.
spencer knew you were getting restless, anticipating you were going to break soon. it’s just what he planned.
“everything okay?” spencer whispered, placing his hand on your upper thigh.
the action shocked you, “i’m good! i just think i need another cup of coffee.” you abruptly get up and practically run towards the break room. spencer watches you walk away with a faint smirk on his face. he gives you a minute or two to calm yourself before getting up and following you.
he found you leaning against the counter, coffee mug in hand and eyes closed, like you were trying to regulate yourself before returning. you heard footsteps and opened your eyes to watch spencer walk over right next to you, and grab the coffee pot in a way you could only describe as deeply sensual as he accentuated every movement, flexing his fingers around the handle and gripping so motherfucking tightly his veins popped up, before pouring himself a cup and speaking to you, “so, i think we’re missing a file. will you come with me to the records room to help find it?”
he calls your name again when you’re so obviously still staring at his hand holding the mug and not attending to him. you snap up and stare at his face blankly, he stares back with that smug ass smirk still and you realize he’s holding his hand out for you to take.
he has to be fucking with you right? it can’t just be a coincidence at this point. spencer literally rambles on and on about the actual probability of coincidence, and if it happens enough times, it’s intentional.
so you take his hand.
and now you’re reflecting on the last few hours, the maybe not so accidental touches to your thighs, the over exaggeration of his fingers pointing to lines in your files that you knew he didn’t need to check again, and now his outstretched hand leading you to a secluded room. you don’t have time to finish your conclusion when the door to the records room closes behind you both and spencer pushes you against it to cage you in with his arms.
“hi.” he’s so close to you oh my god.
“h- hi.”
spencer starts trailing his hand up the side of your hip, “you seem really distracted today.”
“oh…i didn’t realize, sorry.” you murmur, trying not to get distracted as his hand ends its journey on the side of your neck, curling his fingers around the back and angling your face up with his thumb.
“i’m not sure how you expect to get anything done if you keep staring at my hands all day, sweetheart.”
fuck.
your eyes widen, “i wasn’t, no it wasn’t like that, i..” but your protests fall on lost lips as he thumbs over your lower lip.
“if you wanted my fingers that bad, all you had to do was ask.”
your heartbeat fastens as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips, slow but exploratory. he feels you relax a little and pushes his tongue through and attacks you more earnestly. your hands have rested on his shoulders while his have both moved to your hips, pinning you to the door.
one hand moves to play with the button of your dress pants, rubbing his thumb over the button and slightly dipping the tips of his fingers into your waist, “is this okay?”, you nod, “if you want me to stop, at any point, just tell me.” you nod again, pulling his head back down to kiss him, already missing the drunk feeling he gives you. he deftly undoes the button and pulls down the zipper, pushing your pants down around your thighs but leaving your panties on.
you thank whoever’s watching over you that you chose lavender lacy panties today, and it seems spencer’s especially thankful as well when he lets out a groan, “i think you’re trying to kill me.”
“i think it’s going both ways right now.” you pant.
spencer dips his index finger just below the waistband of your panties and pulls it back, “oh honey,” snap. “just you wait.” you let out a soft whimper while he chuckles to himself.
he runs his hand down the lace trimming of your panties, reaching the crevice of your inner thigh and your core. ghosting his fingers over where you really need him, he watches your face intently for how you react. your eyebrows are furrowed, and your breathing is heavy, but not enough to let out a moan. and spencer is nothing if not an overachiever.
he presses his middle finger flat against your core, staring as the increased pressure causes your mouth to fall open. he’s getting closer, but it’s not enough.
moving his fingers back to the crevice, he hooks two fingers and slides your panties to the side, wasting no time in collecting your arousal and spreading it all over you. he faintly hears his name fall from your swollen lips, and he knows he’s close to his goal.
giving your clit the last bit of attention, he dives his middle finger down and enters your hole, and you lose it.
the sharp gasp you let out immediately turns into a pornographic moan as he begins moving in and out of you.
“there’s my girl, knew i could get those pretty sounds out of you.” he breathes in your ear.
his praise goes straight down, making you clench around his slender finger, something that spencer made note of, “you like it when i tell you things like that huh?” he adds his ring finger to the mix, “wanna hear how good you’re doing for me?”
“spencer, please…i’m so close” you whimper.
“i know baby, you’re taking my fingers so well, can’t imagine how you’d look full of my cock.”
“fuck, oh my god…” you whine
he’s got you teetering on the edge of your orgasm as you let out another loud moan, the feeling of his fingers sliding in you so fucking easily is enough to make you delirious. spencer feels you clench around him again and knows you’re so close, and rubs his thumb on your clit.
“come for me, pretty girl, show me what my fingers do to you.”
it was enough to send you crashing into your peak, grabbing on to his forearms as you roll your head back, spilling out a mix of expletives, his name, and moans as he fucks you through your high. you slowly come back down to reality, panting heavily as you meet his honeyed eyes again. he slows his movements and gently pulls out, opening his mouth to suck the arousal off his fingers.
“jesus fuck, spence.” you whimper.
he laughs as he helps you pull your pants back up and resituates you with a pat on your ass, “come on, let’s go pack up our stuff.”
“what why? we still have to finish the report.” you lamely point out.
spencer leans down to plant a longing kiss on your lips again, “i think the file i’m looking for is at home,” he smooths your hair down, “go tell hotch we’re gonna finish it at my place.”
you can’t help but smirk, “why won’t you come tell him yourself?” your eyes panning down to his bulging crotch.
“don’t be a little shit, you know why. now go tell him, or i’m not gonna be as nice as i was now when we get there.”
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid imagine#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fanfiction#request
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Can I just say that I really fucking HATE how the majority of the Arcane fandom praising Season 2 is deeply in the mindset of Piltover in reality? Like, it's not even funny, and I don't know where to begin.
I'll just start with Silco because he's this huge metaphorical character who is clearly written as the embodiment of a long list of sociopolitical agendas in the real world. And before I start, pardon my English, since it's not my first language.
I know y'all in the Anglo-American sphere tend to focus more on classism, inequality and police brutality theme. But the way I see it, THAT and every single dialogue plus the specific word choice of Silco & Sevika literally SCREAMS of postcolonial discourse (I guess F. Fanon is most well-known to y'all) and even some part of M. Foucault's philosophy, etc. I'm writing "etc." because the list will go on forever if I describe all these creepy historical parallels between the depiction of Zaun's internal conflict and what real countries that have been (or still are) colonies went through, and what real colonizer propaganda looked like during that time—like how those characters who fight for the nation's independence are the big bad villain and psychotic monsters who need "redemption arc" therapy, while those who cooperate with the oppressors are the good-hearted familial heroes of this story.
So upon reflection, if this fandom were to be a collective intelligence, we should have asked ourselves, "Is this show truly not problematic for portraying such a character as villainous?" and thus, "Is this show thematically implying far-right propaganda?" even before Season 2 presented us with this insane plot that glamorized the militaristic fascist aristocrat proclaiming martial law as a 'romantic revenge arc'.
But what did the majority of the fandom do since 2022? They were so busy shitting on this dead villain, claiming he has done so much wrong that he doesn't even deserve to be praised as a character. So instead of trying to understand where this character's point of view is coming from, they blindly hate him to the point where they are now fabricating a list of crimes that he didn't even commit, editing false information on the fandom wiki profile.
What's more frustrating to me is that I thought the problem was media illiteracy all along, but oh no, I was being way more optimistic than the reality. Now that I’ve read all these interviews from the showrunner and main writer—Linke and Overton—I get the sense of why Season 2 turned out like that. The more they babble on about this show, the clearer it becomes that they don't even acknowledge how messed up their political views are, which are so far-right. Taking the seemingly-centrist line doesn't make you fair, you're just passively siding with the oppressors. And lesbian sex scene doesn't make this show "progressive", in fact, hiding oppressor fantasy behind a rainbow flag makes it even more treacherous.
So yeah, I think critical voices should be much louder than this, but watching the majority of this fandom neglacting problems only to praise the show? I think my hope for humanity kind of get lost more and more as time passes, lol.
#arcane#arcane season 2#arcane critical#arcane criticism#arcane writing#arcane thematic problem#silco#vander#jinx#vi#sevika#ekko#caitlyn
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simply meant to be | jjk
☾ Title: Simply Meant to Be ☾ Pairing: pumpkin king!jungkook x fem reader ☾ Genre/AU: nightmare before Christmas au, romance, horror, smut ☾ Rating: m (18+) ☾ WC: 4.6K ☾ Warnings: this is not your average nightmare before christmas, its pretty dark and unhinged. jungkook is jack skellington. reader is somewhat of a sally character. jungkook calls you immortelle (it means everlasting), jungkook has face tattoos (you'll see), monsters, fear, seokjin appearing as Dr. Finkelstein hehe, electrocution therapy, being held against will, jungkook unalives someone, a game of cat and mouse, mentions of blood, smut in the forms of: kissing, grinding, fingering, unprotected sex, knife play, blood play, creampie ☾ Summary: you aren’t sure how any of it can be real. This place…these creatures…this man. You wake up next to a man you’ve never seen before with no memory of who he is or where you are. But everyone in town seems to know you. You belong to the Pumpkin King. Scared and utterly terrified you run into someone who claims they can help you remember. And now you’re starting to wonder if that’s truly what you want. ☾ Authors Note: hello darklings! Please enjoy my trick for the Fantasy and Fangs halloween collab! this fic became so much more unhinged than i originally planned lol. it may not be for everyone! just e sure to check my warnings before you proceed with the fic. this is heavily unedited.
Your body jolts upright, lungs immediately gasping for breath.
Panic surges through every nerve as you frantically look around at your surroundings and grasping at the thin sheet you find bunched around your hips.
You’re naked. God why are you naked? How did you get here? Where the fuck are you?
Your heart pounds in your chest as you look next to you in bed and see that someone is lying next to you. A broad back and muscular arms covered in tattoos leading up to a head of messy black hair that covers the persons face lies snoring quietly against the sheets.
“Shit.” You mumble, wrapping the thin sheet around your body as you scramble out of the bed. The man lying in the bed stirs slightly and reaches into the space where your body once was.
You don’t wait to see anything else, dashing for the bedroom door and stumbling into the very dark hallway. The only light comes from the cobweb covered candle sconces that line the black painted walls.
You adjust the sheet around you the best you can before taking off running down the hallway. There is an immediate feeling that you’re being watched and you make the mistake of turning around to look behind you.
The dark shadowy silhouette of a man stands where you had just been a moment ago. You beg your feet to move faster.
Before you reach the top of the stairs, you glance back over your shoulder once more to see what you can only describe as a jack o lantern grin light up and stretch across the face of the man taking his time moving towards to you down the hallway.
“Where are you going, immortelle?”
A voice comes into your mind and almost causes you to fall face first down the winding spiral staircase in front of you.
“Please leave me alone.” You beg as you rush down the stairs. You don’t make it far before you suddenly feel hands gripping at your ankles. Hands with claws….some covered with slime…reaching from under the stairs and tearing at the sheet keeping your naked body from being exposed.
You scream until your throat hurts. Kicking at the hands as you continue to fight your way down the stairs.
“You know how much I love chasing you, baby.”
Somehow you manage to make it to the bottom of the stairs, but you almost wish that you hadn’t when you fall against the front door and throw it open.
You must be hallucinating with fear.
Outside the sky is black and grey swirls of clouds in constant motion, you know if you stared too long you’d become dizzy. Instead, your eyes wonder around to the bare trees surrounding the house you just made your way out of. Just a few leaves hang on for dear life as the wind quite literally howls through the air.
Down the crooked stone steps in front of you is a huge iron gate with two giant pumpkin designs bent into the bars. Gargoyles sit atop every stone post surrounding the house.
Wasting no more time, you descend the stairs until you’ve reached the iron gate, shaking the bars when it doesn’t budge.
“Please open. Please.” You shove with your shoulder as hard as you can and the gate loudly creaks open just enough for you to squeeze out into the open street.
You turn around and shove the gate back shut, looking up at the top of the stairs where the man who had been chasing you through the house now stands with a smile on his half tattooed face and his arms crossed over his bulky bare chest.
You can see even from here that the tattoos on the left side of his face are skull like features. It’s absolutely terrifying.
He lifts a hand in a wave as he menacingly tilts his head to the side and smiles.
Fuck this.
You wrap the blanket tighter around you and take off down the street without a single clue as to where you are. Anywhere has to be better than where you just were.
You spoke too soon again.
The sight in front of you as you round the corner is just as terrifying as that house and that man.
There are monsters, literal monsters, standing in the streets. Selling items at market booths. Chasing their children on the sidewalks. Laughter…and screams. It’s a terrible mix of sounds.
You freeze as a bouncy ball belonging to what you can only assume is a swamp monster child rolls against your feet.
“Happy first day after Halloween Ms Y/N!” The little creature says, staring at you expectantly.
Your instincts tell you not to scream. If you scream it will only make things worse.
“You know my name?” Your voice shakes and so do your hands as you continue holding the blanket around your body.
“Are you alright, miss?” The child’s mother appears behind him, looking at you with concern.
“I um…I should go.” Your bare feet move to cross the street, making you pause when you step in something wet. You know that it’s blood before you even look down. Vomit threatens to fill your mouth but you continue walking away, dragging the train of the sheet you’re wearing through more of the bloody streets.
More monsters stare at you as you go. Some with long sharp teeth and claws that could easily slice through a normal humans delicate skin. Some walked on two feet and some slithered across the ground like sickly serpents.
“Are you lost?” A horrifying witch grabbed your arm and tried to pull you back into the street.
“No, no I’m just on my way somewhere.” You lie the best you can, yanking your arm away only to immediately see deeps scratches from her long nails.
“So sorry miss.” She cackles, moving to join two other witches who were waiting for her on the other side of the street. They all continued their uneasy laughing until you turned the corner up ahead.
As you turned the corner you ran hard into something. Or someone it would appear when you looked up.
“What are you doing out here in nothing but a blanket, Y/N?” The man asks, pushing a pair of glasses up onto his nose.
This man had stitches across his forehead and down around his neck. Like some kind of Frankenstein’s monster, he’s been sewn together.
“Do I know you? Why does everyone here know my name?” You step back to put space between you and the monster.
“Ah, I see. Come with me.” He turns and begins walking but stops when you don’t follow. “I can help you. Come.” He holds out a hand, and while you don’t know what the fuck is happening, something tells you it’s okay to trust this stranger.
You take his hand.
“Who are you?” You finally ask.
“I’m a friend. Dr. Kim Seokjin.” He swings your hands between you in a silly way. “You usually call me Jin. Sometimes Jinnie.”
“Jin.” You repeat, the name feeling familiar on your tongue. “Where are we going?”
“To my lab. I have things that can help you there.” Jin turns another corner and up ahead you can see a tall crooked tower looming in the distance.
“Your lab is in there?”
“It is. Don’t worry Y/N, I promise you’re safe with me.”
You swallow hard but continue to let Jin lead you inside the tower and up, up, up the long spiraling stairs until you reach a door that he slides open.
Inside is a room filled with equipment and various experiments. Glass beakers filled with colorful liquid bubble and burble over small open flames. Sparks fly from wires that connect to different machines and some that connect to nothing at all. There are also several control panels at the center of the room with gurneys situated next to them.
“What kind of doctor are you, Jin?” Your voice shakes a little.
“The helpful kind.” He answers with a menacing grin on his face and a flicker of something slightly insane in his eyes.
“Wh-what do you have here that can help me?” You look down at the dirty blanket still wrapped around your body.
“First,” he grabs your hand again and leads you to a side room that has a cot with some folded clothes lying on top of it, “you can use those clothes to change into, okay? Whatever you want.”
“Thank you.” You step into the small room and turn to face him. “Is something really wrong with me? Something that makes me not remember?”
“Everything is fixable. I’ll have you as good as new in no time.” Jin winks and closes the door behind him so that you can change in private.
You dress in a daze, still feeling very off kilter from everything that’s unfolded from the moment you opened your eyes. Flashes of the man you woke up next too and his terrifying tattooed face race across your memory and leave chills over your skin.
“Ready now?” Jin calls from outside the door. You take a deep breath and walk back out into the laboratory. “Why don’t you take a seat on one of those?” He motions to the gurneys at the center of the room.
Reluctantly, you walk over to them and sit on the thin mattress. It crumples under your weight and immediately sends a sense of dread swimming into your veins.
“How can you fix me?” You barely get the sentence out before Jin is next to you, situating your arms at your sides and wrapping leather straps around your wrists. “What are you doing?” Panic thick in your voice.
“This is how we fix you. Bite this.” He puts a leather strap up to your mouth.
“Are you crazy?! I’m not doing this. Let me go!” You pull against the restraints, thrashing your head and body in an attempt to get the fuck away.
“I know it’s a little frightening. You do this every time. One of your only flaws.” Jin shakes his head, sounding disappointing.
“Flaws? What are you talking about!?”
“You’re my creation. I made you.” He tilts his head and smiles, “and you’re absolutely perfect except for that mind of yours. It resets. Forgets.” He shrugs his shoulders.
“Creation?! I’m a human being! I’m not some experiment! What is wrong with you?” Hot tears starts to leak from the corners of your eyes and blur your vision.
“You’re so adorable sometimes.” Jin yanks on your restraints to tighten them, “sit still, Y/N.”
“You’re hurting me.” You whimper.
“You think that hurts?” Jin smiles before he begins sticking sticky pads to your head and neck. “Just wait.” He whispers into your ear.
You’re such an idiot to have trusted this monster. You were so sure that he was good. A friend. He felt like a friend when you saw him. Familiar.
“Please…don’t.” You beg just before he forcefully shoves the piece of leather between your teeth.
“You’ll thank me soon.”
Terror freezes your body as you watch him slam down a lever on one of the control tables, green electric waves traveling down the wires and entering your body in trembling shocks.
You don’t know how long you lay there, screaming through the pain before you pass out from how much electricity Jin lets pass into your body. But eventually the room goes black and the last thing you hear is Jin manically laughing from across the room.
“It’s getting worse.”
“I tweaked some things this time. I’m hopeful it lasts longer.”
“It better. I’m tired of losing her.”
You hear quiet voices as you begin to come to. Voices that you recognize almost immediately.
“Jungkook?” Your voice croaks. Almost immediately the door to the small room slides open and the silhouette of the only person you want to see fills the doorway.
“You’re okay, immortelle?” Jungkook rushes into the room and kneels next to the cot you’re laying on.
“What happened to me? Why am I in Jinnie’s lab?” You turn your head to face him when he cups your cheeks in his hands.
“You had another episode, my sweet.” He brings your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles one by one.
“Episode?” Your brows draw together in confusion.
“You forgot who you were. That you belong to me. You forgot it all.” Jungkook looks sad while he explains and it breaks your heart.
“How could I forget you?” You sit up slowly and he helps you. “How could I forget my love?”
“It’s not your fault, immortelle. Don’t blame yourself.” Jungkook looks over his shoulder at Jin who stands in the doorway. Jin rolls his eyes before walking away.
“Take me home?” You ask, wrapping your arms around Jungkook’s neck when he picks you up into his arms bridal style.
“Of course.”
Jungkook carries you down the long winding staircase of the laboratory and outside where it’s pitch black besides the white melting candles inside the lamp posts along the street.
A smile pulls across your face when you see all the monsters that you love busy in the streets. They all smile back at you, tossing greetings and wishes of quick recoveries your way.
“They love you.” Jungkook whispers into your ear.
“No. They love you, you’re their pumpkin king. I’m just lucky enough to be yours.” You touch the skull details tattooed on the side of his face so he looks at you.
“You’ll be their queen soon.” He reminds you. You lean up to kiss his lips.
“Let’s get something to eat before we go home. I’m famished.” Jungkook sits you on your feet but keeps your hand in his.
Jungkook talks with some of the shop owners and you watch as he gathers all of your favorite things into a basket. Wines, cheeses, and some sweet treats leftover from the night before. You love him so.
You make your way over to a stand selling haunted dolls and look around at all the choices. You’re about to go back to find Jungkook when someone grabs your arm and twists you around.
“You’re so pretty.” The drunken vampire says, the smell of blood thick on his breath. He’s had too much.
“I appreciate your compliment, but I need you to let go of my arm.” You pull away but he doesn’t let go.
“Don’t be that way. Come with me.” He stumbles and almost falls on top of you.
“Get off of me!” You say louder but the vampire doesn’t listen, it’s nails scratching through your skin. You’re about to scream for Jungkook when he’s suddenly there, ripping the vampires hand from your arm.
“May I ask what you think you’re doing? Touching what’s mine?” Jungkook says too calmly.
“I…I didn’t recognize Ms. Y/N…I didn’t realize.” The vampire stumbles over his words.
“Is that your excuse?” Jungkook laughs, the terrifying cackling sound sending tingles through your body.
You know what’s going to happen next, and the thrill alone has you aching between your legs.
“I’m sorry, I’ll never make the mistake again.” The vampire takes a few steps back.
“Immortelle?” Jungkook looks over his shoulder to you. He’s asking a silent question that you already know the answer to. You nod yes as a smile spreads across your face.
“Remember in your next life my friend, to keep your filthy hands off my girl.” Before you can blink his hand is shooting out between them and into the vampires chest cavity. He holds it there a moment so that he can watch the life drain slowly drain from the vampire before he yanks his hand back out holding the still thumping heart in his hand.
The vampire falls to the ground in a lifeless heep, his eyes still open and eternally full of the fear he last experienced. The crowd around the market doesn’t take offense, they know if their pumpkin kills someone it was for a damn good reason.
Jungkook turns towards you, handing the heart to one of the children playing with the body on the ground. He pats their head and then slowly brings his hand up to his mouth, licking a thick stripe from the bloody palm of his hand to the tip of his middle finger, all while keeping eye contact with you.
You smile, closing the space between the two of you and claiming his mouth. Your tongue seeks out the blood that’s dropped down his chin and around his lips.
“It never gets old…watching you kill for me.” You breathe into his mouth while his blood hands lace into the strands of your hair.
“We need to get home before I show everyone here how well I fuck you.” His mouth leaves hot kisses against your neck as he leads you backwards down the street until your back hits the iron bars of a familiar gate.
Home.
The gate loudly creaks open as soon as it realizes the two of you have arrived. Jungkook stops kissing you to take your hand and walks with you up the stone stairs to the front door that also opens all on its own, the door knocker welcoming you home.
“Do you want to play?” You whisper, making Jungkook pause at the bottom of the stairs. Those tattooed details raising into a smile.
“Okay, immortelle. Let’s play.” He kisses the top of your hand before taking a step back. He slowly slips of his black and white striped suit jacket and unbuttons his shirt before it joins the jacket on the floor.
You soak in the tattooed planes of his body, the muscles begging to be touched. His dark falling over his forehead as he steps back farther into the shadows until he’s completely disappeared from your sight.
“You know what happens if I catch you, immortelle.” His voice floats into your ear from somewhere unknown. “Don’t let me catch you.”
A thrill shoots through your body again and you sprint for the stairs, loving the way the monsters and ghouls grab at your ankles and whisper your name. You immediately turn left at the top of the stairs, your mind going a million miles an hour trying to think of where you could hide.
He knows all of the good places for hiding.
In a last ditch idea, you run into your shared bedroom upon hearing Jungkook’s footsteps running up the stairs. He took this game of chase so seriously and never took it slowly.
You slide under the bed, your chest heaving in fear but also excitement. You’re hoping by hiding somewhere obvious that he won’t even think to look here and waste his time checking all of the usual spots you tend to hide.
“Where are you, immortelle?” You hear his menacing voice out in the hallway coming closer. You almost giggle. “You know I’ll find you. I will always find you.”
You hear his footsteps stop outside the bedroom door and then the door slowly opens right after, lightly hitting against the wall behind it.
Jungkook’s heavy footsteps make the floorboards creak as he walks into the room. You throw a hand over your mouth to keep from making any noises. Jungkook undoes the buckle of his belt and a moment later slips it from his belt loops and lets it clang against the hardwood floor.
“Are you soaked for me right now, my love?” You watch with wide eyes as Jungkook slowly walks around the bed. “I’ll find out soon enough.”
He doesn’t say anything else and when you look around at the floor you notice that he’s no longer next to the bed, his black boots no longer anywhere in sight. You release a long breath of relief.
And then you’re being yanked by the ankle from beneath the bed, a startled scream escaping you as you flip onto your back just in time to see Jungkook trap you with his body against the floor.
“You caught me.” You smile, lifting your hips up to meet his, desperate for friction against your core.
“Don’t I always?” His mouth is on yours, his hands pushing your dress up around your hips.
He was desperate for you too.
“I love you.” You whisper on his lips, the tattooed skeleton grin on his beautiful face turning upwards.
Jungkook sits up on his knees between your legs giving you a full view of his naked torso. Pretty muscles and flawless skin that you ached to leave your mark on. Scratches and bite marks and bruises were the only things that could make him more perfect.
Your chest heaves as you watch him reach behind his back in the band of his black dress pants to retrieve a silver shiny knife. Your pulse quickens immediately.
“Is this what you want, immortelle?” He presses the cold steel flat against the inside of your thigh, keeping the blade from cutting you just yet.
“Will you torture me?” You ask, your hands coming up to cup your breasts with anticipation.
“Absolutely.” Jungkook moves the knife farther up your skin until the point brushes over underwear. You moan pathetically at the feel of it brushing over your center and slowly sliding over onto your other thigh.
“Jungkook…” you sigh.
“Be patient. I’ll give you what you want.” Jungkook uses his other hand to undo the button and zipper of his pants, pushing them down until his perfect cock springs free from the confines.
You bite your lip at the sight in front of you. Jungkook slowly strokes himself to the sight of the knife moving across your skin. He draws the sharp side of the blade oh so gently across your stomach, so sharp you don’t even feel it draw blood. The view of you on display for him makes him groan and move his hand a bit rougher up and down his shaft.
Your fingers move on their own accord, slipping through the small pool of blood on your stomach and moving them back over your breasts to smear the crimson liquid in a trail.
“Fuck. Fuck you’re so perfect.” Jungkook moves the knife to your throat, gently leaving one long cut from one side to the other. You immediately feel warm blood leave the wound and drip down the sides of your neck.
Jungkook drops the knife to the floor and bends over your body to attach his mouth to your neck. He licks and sucks at your blood, whimpering at the taste of it on his tongue. Your body instinctively arches from the ground, your chest rubbing against his and spreading more of your blood between your bodies. It was the most beautiful visual you could imagine.
You looked down between your bodies to see Jungkook’s hand still stroking his cock as he continues to move his mouth down your body to the cut on your stomach. You can barely stand the burn in the pit of your stomach any longer, your desire for the man on top of you smoldering too hot.
“I need you now. Please.” You lace your hands into Jungkook’s hair and lift his face. The sight of his face covered in your blood, his eyes solid black with lust almost does you in completely.
“Such a good girl, saying please.” He moves back onto his knees, squeezing precum from the head of his cock before he releases it completely and picks the knife back up off the floor. You watch in awe as he brings it to his mouth and licks the blood from the blade.
“I always want to be good for you.” You say sweetly. His cock twitches at the sound of your obedient voice.
Jungkook moves the knife down between your legs and ever so carefully pressed the sharp blade to your underwear and drags it down until the fabric slices apart and reveals your absolutely drenched pussy to him. The knife clangs to the floor again and Jungkook leans back down to claim your mouth, his thumb immediately finding your clit.
Your lips part to moan and his tongue swipes against yours swallowing up all the sounds that escape you. The dripping head of his cock suddenly swipes through your folds and causes a high pitched whine to bubble up your throat.
“Is your pussy desperate to be filled, immortelle?” His hand swipes the blood on your stomach before it’s back on his cock, the blood lubing his shaft to make it easier when he fucks himself into you.
“Yes. It hurts, Jungkook.” You let your hands wander his chest and stomach, watching him watch you.
“I’m not going to last long once I get inside your perfect pussy, my love. But I need you to cum and I need you to scream.” Without warning he roughly spears himself inside you, his hands holding you on his cock as you writhe from the sudden intrusion.
“Oh my fucking god.” Your eyes roll to the back of your head when he starts to move, rough and hard.
“Made for me. I literally had you made just for me and you’re perfect. So fucking perfect and pliant just for me.” Jungkook’s hand comes down to your throat, careful of the cut across your skin, he gently tightens his grip.
You immediately see stars, wrapping both of your hands around his wrist to keep him in place. You gasp and moan at the feeling of him controlling your breathing and ruining your pussy at the same time.
“I’m going to come. God I’m coming right now.” The words are quiet as he continues to hold your throat but he hears you just fine, moving his hand from your throat to play with your clit.
“Scream. I need you to scream so I can fill you up.” You open your eyes to see Jungkook watching you, his hair sweaty and mouth parted. Just when you’re about to beg for a kiss he punches your clit between his fingers and your orgasm rolls through you like a hurricane.
Black and white sparks explode behind your eyes and though you can’t hear yourself, you know that you scream loud and high pitched. Just what Jungkook needs to find his own end, dropping on top of you as he continues to fill you past the brim and onto your thighs.
Dried blood scratches between your skin and his as he lies on top of you, his head against your chest and your hands roaming the expanse of his broad shoulders.
“You’re okay, immortelle?” He finally asks through his heavy breathing.
“I am, of course.” You lift his face to place a kiss to his lips.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed this time.” He laughs lightly, groaning as he pulls out and helps you sit up with him.
“I didn’t mind.” You both smile knowing he feels the same.
“I’ll never mind being with you, immortelle. Never.” He touches your cheek and kisses your lips once more.
“Even if…even if I keep forgetting?”
“Even then. We are simply meant to be, my love.”
#bts fic#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook#jungkook#bts smut#bts fanfic#bts#jungkook smut#jungkook x reader#bts imagine#jungkook imagine#jungkook oneshot#jjk
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Food Wars pt. 1
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You and Mingyu are rival but friendly chefs competing for a spot to be an executive chef at a new location in Madrid. This position would change your life; no matter how attractive he is, you WILL get that spot.
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: chef!Mingyu x chef!reader
𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, suggestive (next part will be spicier, I promise), coworkers to lovers au, 18+
𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cursing, kissing, mention of death (nothing graphic), suggestive grabs of the hips and ass 💀
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k
𝐀𝐍: Part 1 is heeeeeeere! This is apart of the world tour collab hosted by @svthub. Part 2 will be posted soon. There are alot of people here who helped me cultivate this fic and assure me that what I wrote didn't suck lol. Thank you @wooahaeproductions, @seokgyuu, @hobeemin and @hannieween for looking at bits of this for me. Also thank you to @highvern , @cheolism , @okiedokrie @bitchlessdino @gyupremacy for shooting ideas with me (ahem, cologne!) and finally @milfgyuu , I know you want to be tagged in anything related to your man :)
You knew it would come to this, and as good as you are at hiding your poker face, you are annoyed. A food competition, really? You almost burst out with laughter when Rich, the restaurant's owner of The Palm Cuisine, told you. The Palm Cuisine is one of the most popular restaurants in the U.S., with three locations in New York, Los Angeles, and Miami. He is opening a new restaurant in Madrid, Spain, and wants to take one of the sous chefs to make them the executive chef. You are the better chef, and everyone knows it, but in the spirit of “fairness,” you have to go against another person for the owner to make their decision. That other person is no other than Kim Mingyu, the golden boy of the restaurant who is almost as good as you in the kitchen. Almost.
It’s not like the position was directly promised to you, but deep down, you always assumed it would be yours. You have been there the longest, know the menu from top to bottom, and have even stayed extra nights you didn’t have to for the benefit of the restaurant and the team. You eat, breathe and shit this place. It feels like a slap to the face. “Put the knives down, girlie,” your coworker and good friend Shena nudges you.
You sigh, gently setting down the knives you used to cut your potatoes. “I’m fine,” you whisper, turning around and rolling your eyes. “I am totally fucking fine.” You close your eyes and take a small, deep breath, centering yourself before returning to reality. Disappointment would be an understatement if you had to describe how you feel. The Palm Cuisine is the first and only restaurant you have worked at as a chef, starting as a prep cook and working your way up to sous. You always imagined yourself making it to executive chef—overseeing the restaurant's menu, preparation, cooking, ordering, and operations. The place specializes in Spanish food, and you can confidently say you could plan a Spanish menu with your eyes closed. Tapas, gazpacho, paellas, you name it, you’ve done it. And yet, you must constantly prove to everyone (mainly the men) that you deserve to be here. It’s exhausting. You can feel everyone’s eyes on you, wondering if you will snap and break a rolling pin or cry in the bathroom. Instead of giving them the satisfaction, you turn around with a beaming smile. “Well,” you quirk an eyebrow. “Let the food war begin!” “Oh, splendid!” Rich squeals. “I was worried you would be upset.” “Why would I be upset?” You cock your head. “I mean, it’s only fair, right?” He chuckles nervously, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Why don’t you and Mingyu come into my office, and we can discuss it further?” You nod as he beckons Mingyu over and follows him into his mid-size office. It smells of fresh linen, courtesy of a scented oil on his bookshelf. It looks like a typical place of work, complete with a desk, laptop, and hundreds of documents related to the restaurant. It’s cold in contrast to the warmth of the fires in the kitchen, and you long to be back in front of the heat, cooking from your heart.
You’ve been cooking since you were ten, watching your grandmother in the kitchen slave away for all the major holidays. You remember how it felt when you made your first apple pie - how you went to the local market and bought the freshest green apples you could find and cut them up like she did, adding the right amounts of nutmeg, brown sugar, and other needed ingredients. You made your own crust and watched everyone marvel at your dessert. You guess you could say that your grandmother stirred your love for cooking. God, you miss her.
You hear Mingyu shuffle behind you, the scent of chocolate and cream greeting you before he does. You nod, moving to the seat furthest away from the door to give yourself space. You don’t hate Mingyu; you two are friendly with each other and help each other out when needed. He’s always treated you with respect and never condescended you when you made a suggestion. Your eyes undoubtedly work, and you would be a liar if you didn’t admit he is handsome. His model-like looks, toned body, great hair, and he just happens to be a good cook? It’s almost not fair. But fortunately for you, you haven’t fallen for his charms. He’s the golden retriever that everyone wants to be around. Well, except for you.
“So,” Rich starts as he shuts the door. I want you to know that I respect both of you, and it was tough to make this decision; hence, we are doing this. Plus, it’ll be fun, bring up the morale of the restaurant while we’re in Madrid—” “Wait,” you hold your hand up. “Are we going to do this in Madrid?” “Well, yes,” he says casually. “It’s only fitting we do it there. It’ll give you a chance to feel the vibe of the area and get some fresh ingredients. Lord knows you can’t get it here in the city.”
Mingyu chuckles, and you instinctively dig your thumb into your palm, your mind already thinking of the cost of a ticket, hotel space, etc. Rich can be a dramatic pain in the ass sometimes.
“We will cover everything, of course; all you need to do is be ready for international travel. You can bring one person from the restaurant as your assistant. Oh, and here is some paperwork you will need to fill out.” Several minutes later, with all the paperwork signed and details worked out, you shuffle out of the office one by one. Rich leaves first, rushing out like a bat out of hell, his wooden smell following him and the tension in your chest. You’re plagued with thoughts about coming up with a menu, packing to leave, and who’s going to watch your cat Grey while you’re gone. You feel undervalued, still bothered that you even have to do this. Does your many years of being here not mean anything to Rich? Is your cooking not good enough? Why keep hinting that you could have something bigger here just to string you along? All of this frustrates you with a passion.
You need a fucking drink.
Your nose wiggles at the smell of rich chocolate, your mouth salivates, and your stomach rumbles shortly after. You have a terrible habit of not eating when hungry as you focus on making food and serving others. While your mind is on food, you aren’t paying attention to Mingyu in front of you, bumping into his back. Your face grows hot with embarrassment, refusing to meet the gaze of your competitor for your dream job. “Hey.” His deep voice knocks you out of your mental fog.
“W-what’s up?” You stumble through your words. “I just want to say it’s an honor going toe-to-toe with you for this spot. There wouldn’t be any other person I would want to go against. You’re a great chef.”
For that tiny moment, you felt seen and appreciated. Aside from Shena, no one seemed to care about the hard work you put into The Palm Cuisine, and you thought about quitting so many times. But despite being unappreciated, you love the food, the culture, and the customers that come in. You can’t imagine yourself anywhere else.
“Thanks,” you clear your throat. “You’re good too.” Mingyu nods, a strand of hair falling over his forehead. Seeing him up close, you have to admit, he’s attractive. You get why everyone trips over their feet when he’s around. You have much more discipline than that despite the vibrations through your body. “Also, you need to eat,” he says matter-of-factly. “I heard your stomach before you bumped into me.”
Whatever spell you were temporarily under ceased immediately, knocking you back into reality.
“Ladies first,” he says, moving out of the way to let you through. His hand lightly touches your back as you walk by, making that part of you hot as if it were touched by something warm. You return to your stations, cleaning them off to be ready for the customers who are set to come in later. “What was that about?” Shena pops up beside you, eyeing you suspiciously. “Just some stuff about this unnecessary competition and getting an assistant to help me and whatnot,” you shrug.
“Wow, that’s kind of grand,” she looks perplexed as if you are telling a joke.
You nod, grab a granola nearby, and take a bite, curbing your hunger a bit.
“So…” you let your voice trail off in suspense. “How about you come with me to Spain?”
Your morning sucked. You barely slept, and when you finally did, you woke up to three missed alarms and was running an hour late. You had less than a week to plan to leave the country and spent most of your night packing for ten days and making sure your cat, Grey, would be comfortable while you were gone. He is a rescue; you adopted him from the animal shelter when you volunteered with Shena a year ago. He was your cuddle buddy; you haven’t been without him for more than a day. “I’m going to miss you, buddy,” you give him a good scratch. He purrs lazily, curling himself into a ball and going back to sleep. You are grateful that Shena’s girlfriend, Lumina, offered to come over and feed him while you were gone. You were considering dropping him off at one of those pet daycares for the week or hiring a cat sitter, but she came through in the nick of time. She works at the animal shelter you adopted her, and coincidentally, that’s where she and Shena met and fell in love.
It was nice seeing them fall for each other. It was like watching a silly, quirky rom-com play out in front of you. You see the magic in Shena’s eyes when she looks at Lumina, the warmth in her voice when she talks about her. Shena described Lumina as a warm hug on a rainy day, and you could believe that. They are made for each other.
You hear a notification on your phone telling you your Uber is outside. You send a quick text to Lumina, giving her the code to your door, and give one last look around before you go across the ocean. “Bye, Grey,” you whisper, ensuring the door is locked before leaving.
Silvery-white clouds rolled into the early morning sky as you walked to your Uber, the ground wet from the fresh rain a few hours before. The smell of rain has always soothed you; the clean, earthy petrichor wakes you up a bit more. You quickly greet the driver, putting on your AirPods and playing a playlist you made. You watch the remaining droplets of rain left on the window roll away as your driver cruises down the highway. Where you come from, it hardly rains as it's primarily hot year round. On the rare occasions when it did, you would open your bedroom window, sit in your bed, and watch the water hit the Oleander flowers in your backyard. It was one of your two favorite smells in the world, the other being apple pie.
Mixed in with your annoyance about having to have a competition to prove yourself as a chef, you are looking forward to leaving the country. You have never been to Spain before, let alone Europe. You have traveled and seen a few things, but Mexico is the farthest you have gone. You spent much time last night looking up main attractions, museums, and local areas to see if you have the time. You want to visit the local markets and taste the local food. Rich set up all of your travel and living arrangements, and all you have to do is show up and cook. You are going to make the most of your time there. Who knows when you will be able to travel again? At the very least, you plan on coming out of this thing, winning it all.
“We’re here.”
When you look up, the airport entrance pulls up to your right. The ride feels shorter than it is, but you are lost in thought about many things. You thank your driver, grab your suitcases, and walk to the airline’s front desk to turn your bags in. You arrived with thirty minutes left to spare, and there was a long line already; it wasn’t even 8 am. You can’t help but yawn as you hand over your bags to the agents, fatigue and the lack of sleep kicking your ass.
“You’re all set,” the agent hands over your printed ticket. “Have a safe trip.” You nod, heading towards security and breezing through the checkpoints before arriving in front of the underground train. Your purse feels heavy on your shoulder, and your eyelids threaten to close as you stand. You usually have good sleep management, but you stressed over this trip all night. What if you come all the way out to Spain for nothing? You don’t think you could continue to work for Rich anymore. It would hurt too much.
The train comes shortly after, and you shuffle inside, trying to find a seat in the back before it is taken. You see one and settle down, your shoulders dropping as you finally sit down. You lean your head on the cold pole, hopeful that closing your eyes for a minute will give you some of your energy back.
“Are you as tired as I am?” You recognize that voice, annoyance slowly creeping in as your longing for a bit of solitude is interrupted.
“Mingyu, what a surprise,” you mutter without cracking an eye open.
“How did you know it was me?”
“Your voice. It’s one of a kind,” you deadpan.
He chuckles as the train flicks forward, sitting next to you. You begrudgingly pull out your ticket, realizing you will not get to relax until you’re sitting on that plane. Noting the concourse you need to get off on, you look ahead, counting the stops you have until you have to get off. Mingyu hums softly, adjusting his backpack and pulling out his headphones.
“Have you ever flown first class before?”
Your head snaps his way, not registering what he’s saying. “What?” “First class? Have you ever been?” “I-uh, no,” you stumble through your words. “Why does it matter?”
“Uh, did you even look at where you’re sitting?”
“Well, yes?” you say incredulously, looking at your ticket again. “Of course, I know where I’m sitting—”
You don’t finish that sentence; instead, your mouth forms a small “o,” unaware that you would be sitting in first class. You have never flown in those seats before, the closest being business class a couple of rows behind the curtain. Those tickets were not cheap, and you only purchased them because you wanted to treat yourself to graduating culinary school, which you were able to do by saving all of your tips from your waitressing job.
You don’t like admitting that you were wrong, and you aren’t going to admit it now. Instead, you rake your fingers in your hair, nodding and shoving your ticket in your back pocket.
“You’re welcome,” Mingyu taunts you, nudging your shoulder. “Yeah, yeah,” you shake your head.
You can barely suppress your smile, saved by the announcement that your concourse is approaching. You both rise out of your seats, moving towards the doors before the train jerks suddenly, making you fall forward into Mingyu. He grabs your hips, holding you steady until you’ve caught your balance. Your breasts are pressed against his chest, and your body is hypersensitive to his inadvertent touch. His grip is firm and protective, bringing an unexpected tingle to your core. You couldn’t feel more thankful that you were looking down; you couldn’t look him in the eye out of embarrassment. You don’t even have a crush on this guy, yet you feel hot and bothered.
“Be careful, princess,” he crouches low enough for your ears only. “We don’t need you flailing around this train.”
“Don’t do that,” you scoff. “Don’t call me princess.”
“Why?”
The train doors open, and you calmly remove his hands from you, gazing deep into his eyes.
“Because I’m far from that.”
You walk away before he has a chance to respond, looking for the gate you need to be at. Bitchiness aside, you stand on what you said. You aren’t some helpless person waiting in a tower for someone to come save you or give you a handout. You’ve worked hard for everyone to see you more than a woman, as it already has a stigma. The constant belittling of your intelligence, being told to “wait your turn,” you are done with it. You’ve taken control of your destiny your life, and you will not be treated like some delicate little girl waiting to be saved from a castle… no matter how hot the knight is.
You feel relieved when you find your gate and a familiar face sitting with her iPad in her hand. As if she felt you coming, Shena looks up and waves you over to where she is sitting. Dressed in mint green sweats and matching crocs, she stands out in front of the dull black seats.
“There you are,” she greets you with a hug. “It’s not like you to be late. I sent you a text wondering where you were.”
“You did?”
You pull out your phone, and sure enough, you have received one unread message from her. She must have sent it when you were on the train, distracted by Mingyu and his hands on your body. It’s not like you to get riled up, and it ticks you off that it happened with him, of all people. Your life is a joke.
You plop down next to her, cocking your head back in exhaustion. Before fully relaxing, you feel the seat beside you shift, followed by the smell of light cologne and chocolate. Looking over, you see Mingyu adjusting his bag before setting it on the ground. He is holding a small chocolate bar and taking a small bite, savoring the decadent treat as he licks his lips. You look away before being caught, chagrined that you were staring at him for that long. What is with you?
“Oh hey there, Gyu,” Shena waves at him. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Oh, I just got here,” he smiles. “I had to find my way to the gate since this one here is a speed walker.”
“Oh? You guys arrived together?”
“Not together, together,” you emphasize. “We just happened to be on the same train, that’s all.”
You purposely avoid Shena’s eye contact, clearing your throat and changing the subject.
“Did you notice we are flying first class?”
“Yeah!” Shena beams, pulling out her ticket. “I’ve never been out of the country, let alone first class. Lumina was bummed she couldn’t tag along. The shelter has her tied up, and it is kinda last minute.”
“Aww,” you rub her knee. “There will always be a next time, right?”
Shena nods, and the flight attendants announce they are about to start boarding, starting with first class. You pop out of your seat first, grab your things, and stand in line. Anticipation drills in your heart, wanting nothing more than to sit in some very comfortable seats and sleep throughout this 8-plus hour flight. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Mingyu behind you, his eyes boring a hole in the back of your head. He leans in closer, the hairs standing on the back of your neck as his lips barely touch your ear.
“I know you’re not a princess,” he whispers. “You’ve proven to be more than that. But that doesn’t mean you don’t need someone to care for you sometimes.”
You were next in line and couldn’t respond without the flight attendants giving you weird looks. Instead, as they check your ticket, you do what you know best: bite your tongue, smile, and push it aside.
Madrid is exquisite; it is everything you saw on your Pinterest board and more. You’ve been here a few days and are in love. You are surrounded by gorgeous cerulean waters, good weather, and historic sites you always wanted to see as a child. The Almudena Cathedral, one of the most prominent catholic churches in the world, took your breath away when you went to visit. The Francisco de Cubas architecture throughout made you appreciate art more, one of the most beauteous works you have ever seen in person.
You also took time to visit the local market, talking with the locals about their lives and picking up fresh food to try out different dishes for the competition. Shena was a big help, taking over in Spanish if you needed help and also giving fresh ideas on what to cook. You knew a bit of Spanish to get around the city and ask questions, but coming from a Spanish-speaking household, Shena could convey your ideas in ways you couldn’t understand. You will be forever grateful for that.
“It looks like we’re here.” Rich called you both to the restaurant this evening to show you around and tell you where your cooking stations would be. The restaurant stood atop a hill, with small walk-up steps made of stone mosaics. Surrounded by boutique shops and a couple of markets, this was the only restaurant on the block; you couldn’t miss it. You understood quickly why Rich took this location. He meets you at the entrance, greeting each other in dos besos.
“Welcome, let me show you around. Mingyu is already here.” You walk into the small waiting area before entering a gorgeous main dining area with walls made of Spanish moss brick. The bar is neatly placed in the middle, already loaded with the finest wines and other liquors. The dining tables and chairs are made of mahogany, giving you a vibe that you are back home in the country.
“Ah, there he is,” Rich looks to your right.
Mingyu walks up, wearing a white beater accentuating his well-toned arms and acid-blue jeans that hit him perfectly. You couldn’t stop ogling him if you wanted to; you would’ve thought he was a model off the street if you didn't know him. His eyes scan Rich and Shena before landing on you, a slight smirk on his lips that only you seem to notice. Ever since your encounter at the airport, he’s been on your mind, and you hate it. You still feel his hands on your hips on the train, as if he imprinted on you.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I had to find the bathroom.” “No worries,” Rich waves him off. “Let me show you around.”
He takes you to where your cooking stations would be, explaining how everything was set up and where to find your ingredients so you could prepare them. The competition is in three days, giving you enough time to finish your menu and prep before the big day. The kitchen is magnificent, a sight straight out of your daydreams: stainless steel appliances, expensive cast irons, and utensils you’ve always wanted that were way out of your budget. You may hate the idea of this competition, but working at this location would be a dream come true.
“Imagine if we got to work here,” Shena whispers. “I’ve only seen kitchens like these on Master Chef.” You nod in agreement, your fingers barely grasping the counter's surface. Rich finishes showing you around and asks everyone what their plans are leading up to the big day. “Nothing, just prepping and looking around the city a bit more,” you shrug. “Well, that sounds boring! ” He exclaims. “Madrid has such a fun nightlife. It would be a shame for you to miss out. As a matter of fact, why don’t you kids go to Kapital tomorrow? I can get you a table, and you can let loose.”
“Well, shit, okay!” Shena pipes up before you can respond.
You groan internally, not in the mood to be body-to-body against strangers, sweating your hair out during loud music. You don’t see yourself having fun until this whole thing is over. How does this guy expect you to relax? It’s not like his dreams are on the line. You look over at Mingyu, who matches your gaze, leaning against one of the refrigerators.
“Yeah,” his eyes finally tear away from you. “I’m down.”
You’re the only one left who hasn’t given an answer, and everyone is looking at you expecting one.
“Okay, let’s do it,” you mask your disdain with a smile.
“Great!” He claps his hands in excitement. “I will send you the details later and get you set up. Have fun.”
Rich walks you out, and you ask for the bathroom. You need a moment to pee and think in peace. He points you toward one, and you walk into the grand bathroom decorated with an old European interior that was undoubtedly above your salary. You walk to the furthest stall away from the door, rubbing your temples as you do what you need to do. For the most part, you handle stress well. You compartmentalize your feelings about what needs to be done, and you’ve been fine. Even now, with this competition vastly approaching and Mingyu somehow encompassing your thoughts when you’re around him, you’re fine. You haven’t cracked.
You aren’t sure why this is affecting you so much. You still think about when he touched you on the train and how your body felt alive. You haven’t been with anyone in a long time. Is your body so desperate for intimacy that you melt at the first person who gives you attention? No, that can’t be it. You’ve been fine all this time. Why is Mingyu getting under your skin? Shaking those thoughts away, you wash your hands and look at yourself in the mirror, taking a deep breath. Swinging the door wide open, you are met by the man who has been plaguing your thoughts since you’ve been here. He was waiting for you, his back leaned against the wall, fiddling with a toothpick in his mouth.
“Rich and Shena are waiting for you… you can get kind of lost here,” Mingyu says.
“Mmhmm,” you nod slowly. “Well, let’s go.” The walk back to the front feels longer than it is. He hums a soft tune as he strides beside you, like he’s your equal, your partner. You wouldn’t admit this out loud, but you feel comfortable.
“So, what have you been doing since you’ve landed?” Mingyu asks.
“I did some sightseeing,” you respond. “I visited the Almudena Cathedral and the local markets with Shena and got some ingredients for the competition. Oh, and worked on the menu.” “That’s it?” Mingyu looks surprised. “There is so much more of Madrid you have to see.” “Well, it’s not like I have a lot of time to go out there and explore,” you defend yourself. “Plus, I can’t really relax with this thing coming up.” You point at the kitchen. “How do you do it?” “How about I show you?”
You stop dead in your tracks a few feet away from the door.
“What do you mean show me?” You eye him suspiciously. “I’m going to pick you and Shena up tomorrow, and we will explore together. There’s so much the world has to offer besides cooking and work.”
“How are you gonna do that?”
“You’ll see.”
You both walk outside, and Shena sits at one of the tables, talking candidly on the phone. Rich is nowhere to be found. The moon peeks over the horizon, the white orb’s light shining over the waters. Normally, you wouldn't agree to such a thing, but he has a point. Maybe you should live a little. “You are something. You know that?
Mingyu shrugs, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I just believe in living life to the fullest. We don’t know how long we may have.”
You eye him more, studying his face in hopes that you can find a false truth and be more at ease. When you don’t, it does the opposite of relaxing you; it makes you nervous. You might be starting to like this guy.
Fine,” you sigh. “I’ll send you the address.”
“He’s here!” You check yourself out in the mirror, smoothing the middle of your blue floral white dress. You opted to wear your hair in a low bun, matching earrings, and a necklace you’ve had for years. Sliding on your white sandals, you grab your purse and leave your room. “Phew!” Shena whistles at you. “Qué guapa estás!”
You roll your eyes playfully as she pops out of her seat, sporting a white top and blue jeans, accessorized with a light cardigan and a simple gold necklace. You usually wouldn’t dress up this nice for an outing with friends (and Mingyu), but you wanted to be prepared for anything, and it would kill you if you were underdressed. Plus, you were going to be in Europe! Why wouldn’t you want to be prepared?
You walk out of your Airbnb and meet Mingyu as he comes in. He is dressed casually in a white collared shirt and black shorts, the slight breeze lifting his shirt and exposing his abs. It took a lot of brainpower to look away, instead diverting your attention to the inside of your purse. He looks tanned and relaxed, as if he is one with Madrid. If only you could relax like that.
“Hey, Gyu,” Shena waves. “Thank you for leading the way on this grand adventure.”
“No problem,” Mingyu smiled. “I want this to be a fun day, and I figured we have a driver, so why not?”
He looks at you, and your heart patters. The sun and slight breeze do not help your plight as you fight internally against acknowledging how sexy he looks. You hate your body for the way it’s betraying you right now, feeling inadvertently turned on.
“You look pretty,” he marveled at you.
“Thanks,” you nod sheepishly, walking to the black car behind him. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
There is a tiny bit of you that wants you to look good for him, to be seen that you put in the effort. When you get in the car, you greet the driver, sitting in the back row, hoping he will get the hint that you want to be left to yourself and your thoughts. But that didn’t work that way, as he climbs in and sits right next to you, with Shena seated in the row in front. His cologne is light, different from the usual sweet, chocolatey smell you’re accustomed to when he’s around. It’s enchanting, exciting, and further puts you in a mood. “So where are we going?” Shena probed, snapping on her seatbelt. “The Royal Palace,” Mingyu announced. “They have a tour, and I figured we could get lunch afterward.”
The driver pulls off, and you gaze outside the window, admiring the beautiful architecture of Madrid. Visiting the Royal Palace was on your bucket list, but you didn’t think you would have time. You’ve seen the pictures on Pinterest and talked to some locals at the restaurant who have been, but you’ve always been told that tickets are hard to get. You never thought it would be attainable for you.
“What are you thinking about?” Mingyu’s deep voice infiltrates your thoughts.
“Nothing, really,” you say, smoothing out your dress. “I am just enjoying the foreign atmosphere.”
“Foreign atmosphere?” Mingyu chuckles. “That’s an interesting way of saying you enjoy the view.”
“Well, are we not in a foreign place?” You retort.
“Well, yes.”
“Alright then.” You look back out the window, biting your lip to hold back a grin. You are thankful for the soft tunes from the car radio, letting the reggaeton beats drown out your very loud thoughts. Mingyu gets you riled up in a way that no one can. He doesn’t frustrate you in ways like the other men do at the restaurant. Deep down, it’s not in an ill manner; he is just like the golden retriever: nudging your leg with a bone in his mouth, begging you to play with him.
“I brought you something,” he nudges your shoulder. “I know you didn’t eat.” You look down and see that he is holding a granola bar coated with vanilla and almonds, poking out of a sandwich bag. The sweet smell is heaven to your nose, and your mouth slightly salivates. He tapes Shena on the shoulder, handing her one of her own.
“You made this?” Shena probes, carefully taking it from him. “This is really sweet.”
You take a small bite of it, and your taste buds do a happy dance. The vanilla was freshly made, and you taste the granola, almond, and sweet spices used to make this perfect bar. You aren’t big on breakfast, as you’re used to getting up and moving on the go, but occasionally, you will grab a granola bar and eat it on your breaks at work, this one explicitly being your favorite. Maybe Mingyu knows you better than you thought.
“You’re right,” you confessed. “I hadn’t eaten anything. Thank you.” The car pulls to a stop, arriving at the grandiose building known as The Royal Palace. You wait until everyone leaves the vehicle, barely climbing out without tripping over your feet. Standing outside of the gates, you are in awe. You aren’t sure if it’s dopamine, but the air suddenly feels different and almost cleaner. You scrambled into your purse, pulling out your portable camera to photograph the palace. This place may not be one of the world's seven wonders, but in your heart, it is. “Oooo, let’s take pictures while we are here,” Shena squeals.
She pulls you and Mingyu close to her, takes over the camera, and snaps a few photos together and separately. Usually, you would be annoyed if it was someone else, but she is your best friend. You can let her get away with a few things. Mingyu goes to the booth to confirm they have arrived, returning with three tickets to take inside. “We can go in through a separate entrance since I got the tickets ahead of time,” he announces. You flip through the pictures through the camera, excited to take more. You feel his eyes bore into you, and you suddenly feel hot.
“What are you looking at?” You say, putting your camera away.
“Your smile,” he confesses with a cheeky grin. “I want to see it more often.”
You gaze at each other for a moment, your mouth parted with much to say and nothing at the same time. Mingyu keeps leaving you speechless, and you aren’t mad about it anymore.
“Are you two gonna keep staring at each other lovingly, or are we gonna do this thing?” Shena’s words snap you out of your reverie, and Mingyu chuckles, shoving his hands in his pockets. You walk over to her, linking your arm with yours.
“There is nothing loving going on.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” she rolls her eyes. “Let’s go look at some royalty.”
When you planned for this trip, you set a time to visit the Almudena Cathedral, visit the local markets, and plan your menu. You weren’t going to hold Shena to that standard even though she is your assistant. You thought you would be fine if you focused on nothing but food and didn’t get distracted. Mingyu, however, might be proving you wrong.
You sit at his Airbnb, watching him make lunch for you and Shena. He insisted on making something instead of eating out somewhere, and who are you to turn down a free meal? The Royal Palace was everything you imagined, learning about the history of Spain beyond what was in your textbooks in high school. You consider yourself a history buff, wanting to learn more about the world across the different seas. You’ve had that desire when you were a little girl, sitting on your grandmother’s lap and listening to her stories from when she traveled as a young adult. She never got to visit Spain, but she talked about it a lot, being that they were world conquerors (or, as you like to say, colonizers) back in the day. You really miss her.
Mingyu sets your plate in front of you, a fried calamari sandwich with a side of garlicky mayo and fries he made himself. He tops it off with a small squeeze of lemon juice, just as you like it. When you make this at the restaurant, you always add lemon juice on top to give it more depth, but instead of the mayo, you have paprika-spiced tomato sauce on the side. Either way, this shows that Mingyu has been paying attention when you felt incognito.
“Dig in,” he announces, sitting next to you at the island bar.
It’s a comfortable silence between you three, munching away at your well-seasoned meal. If you had to be honest with yourself, it’s the best sandwich you have ever had. He fried the calamari in olive oil, turning it every minute or so because it doesn’t take that long to cook. He apparently had the calamari sitting in milk in the refrigerator since this morning, allowing it to tenderize before mixing it with his own seasoning flour. You and Shena offered to help, but he turned you down, stating you were his guests and he wanted to treat you to something good before you went out later that night.
“This was really good,” Shena praises him as she wipes her mouth with a napkin. “You have to come over again and make these for Lumina and me.”
“Anything for you two,” he teases. “As long as you keep making those margaritas.” They howl in laughter, and you feel a bit awkward as if they have an inside joke that you aren’t a part of. You smile politely, finishing off the last bit of your food before getting off your stool and grabbing your plate to wash.
“Aht aht,” Shena blurts, scrambling out of her seat. “I will be handling the cleanup. You two sit out there and act like you like each other.”
Your eyes throw darts at her for that last sentence, and she blows you a kiss as you walk to the balcony for some fresh air. The warm sun is welcome on your skin, the warmth taking away the chill you have in your bones from inside. You stare out into the sea, watching the boats go back and forth from the ports, the busy life from the markets a site to behold. You feel completely at peace for the first time since you’ve been here.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Mingyu pokes his head out from the balcony door, holding a pink lemonade decorated with an umbrella.
“Sure, if you are bringing that,” you quip, pointing at the drink.
“Of course, princess,” he jests back.
As you take the drink, you raise an eyebrow, debating whether you should be annoyed at that nickname or amused that he’s teasing you. He stands comfortably next to you, admiring the cerulean blue waters in front of you.
“This place is beautiful, isn’t it?” He sighs heavily. “I don’t want to leave.”
You look at him, his happy-go-lucky nature replaced by a look of sadness and longing. It’s unnerving, as you have always seen him with a warm orange aura around him. His hands grip the gate as he takes a softer, deeper breath, turning to face you.
“Can I ask you something?”
You nod slowly, your anxiety ticking up about what he wants to ask.
“What got you into cooking?”
You look away, staring back into the calm sea. No one has bothered to ask you anything personally about yourself besides Shena and Lumina, and you are unsure how to respond. It would mean opening a part of you to someone new, and you haven’t done that in a long time. It means that you would have to relieve your past and start trusting him, and you are scared of that.
Stepping across the magical line of faith and hope, you take a sip of your lemonade. “My grandma used to cook a lot growing up, and I would sit in the kitchen and watch her. Whatever you wanted, she could make it. My parents weren’t around, and she was the one who raised me. I eventually started cooking with her, which spurned my love for cooking, but mainly because I was doing it with her.” You pause, your breath shaky as you relive one of the hardest moments of your life. “On Christmas, I found her unconscious beside her chair. Apparently, she had a stroke and didn’t have oxygen for fifteen minutes before I saw her. I did everything I could to save her by hooking her with her oxygen machine before the paramedics arrived, but it was too late. She was declared brain dead.”
Hot tears fall down your cheeks, and you wipe them away quickly, embarrassed that you let yourself reach this point in front of Mingyu. He pulls you into his arms, allowing you to cry a little in his arms. Unbeknownst to you, Shena walks out and notices your tears, but Mingyu shushes her quietly, allowing you to grieve just a little bit longer. You regain your composure, giving yourself some space and adjusting his shirt. “I ruined your shirt,” you pout. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he smiled softly. “You need something to lean on, and I’m glad I got to be that for you.”
Gazing into his eyes, you see the familiar warm orange swirling in his little orbs. Inadvertently, you move closer to him, your heart and body overruling your mind for once. Mingyu responds kindly, pulling you closer to him with his hands dangerously on your hips.
“Is it okay if I—”
“Mingyu, do it before I change my mind.”
His lips press against yours, and your legs almost buckle. It is soft and tentative, as if he is playing it safe in case you want out. But you don’t; instead, you kiss him deeper. It is as if something takes over you, and you can’t stop. Call it desire, passion, or any other synonym, but it’s what you feel. You want him, and so does he. His hands travel lower, giving your butt a soft squeeze, and you accidentally moan in his mouth. You think he likes it, though, because his bulge is hardening against your center.
“If we don’t stop, there is no coming back from this,” he breathes.
Your mind regains consciousness at those words; you know he is right. With one last kiss, you begrudgingly pull away, walking back inside and squarely bumping into Shena.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” She joked while taking a good look at you.
“Nothing, let’s just go,” you insist. “We still have to get ready for tonight and all.”
Shena looks at you and the balcony suspiciously but doesn’t say anything; honestly, you appreciate that. You don’t know how you can answer any questions she may throw at you. All you know right now is Mingyu drives you fucking crazy.
Part 2 will be coming soon. Likes, reblogs, and feedback are much appreciated :)
tag: @nonuify
#kvanity#kwritersworldnet#svthub#svt fanfic#svt oneshot#svt scenarios#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt angst#svt suggestive#mingyu fanfic#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst
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𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒀𝒐𝒖? 𝑺𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒀𝒐𝒖.
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𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐂𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐘 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓
Tw:: Slight mention of murder, smut, no plot porn, slight degradation (Reader insulting Toby Lol), soft!dom Toby, Power!sub reader, creampie, raw sex, use of weed, high Toby, cussing at every paragraph. (cuz the writer is immature)
𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗔𝗥𝗘 𝟭𝟴+ 𝗜 𝗪𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗕𝗘 𝗪𝗥𝗜𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗦𝗠𝗨𝗧𝗦 𝗔𝗕𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗢𝗥𝗦.
If i missed out any warnings please tell me..
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It was a quiet night, living off by yourself and paying for your own tuition for college like every usual day because you insisted on being “independent”. That really fucked you up to the core. Your dark undereye and pale lips were the evidence of those sleepless nights. You've sometimes regretted the foolish decision you made but then again, it was better than living off with your family who gives you zero to no privacy at all.
You were in the kitchen-living room downing down the 6th cup of coffee for the day. Your eyes lazily trailing off through the darkness and the pure silence of this depressing environment. You're not ready to end the day yet, you needed to do some jack shit project that had nothing to do with your course at all and it was driving you insane.
After finishing off your coffee, you simply placed the mug onto the sink ready to go back to whatever work you're doing on your computer but then you jolted back in surprise when you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you from your couch. A soft groan escaped your lips when you realized who it was.
Relaxing your tensed up shoulder, you made your way to the couch and just as you predicted, there was Toby, lazily slouching and man spreading on your couch like he owned the place. You didn't even realize he was in here, you wanted to ask when and how he got here unnoticed but something caught your attention. His eyes, tho it was dark, you couldn't mistake it to be slightly reddish meaning he was probably, currently high right now, smoked weed with his little killer friends too. You crossed your arms as you watched the man giggle at your pissed off expression.
Have i mentioned that Toby, an infamous serial killer around your neighborhood happened to be a friend-ish? If that's what you want to describe to him as. He's tried to kill you before, turns out you were the wrong target, tried to kill you either way to keep his identity a secret but you managed to convince him somehow to keep you alive. He had other plans, to put you in 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘂𝘀𝗲 for.
"Hey..i-i hope you don't mind me dropping by.." he spoke in a breathy tone with a shit-eating grin plastered on his lips. He moved closer to the arm chair, tugging at your arm with his gloved hands to pull you down with him on the couch. His neck twitched once as he did. "Come on..you know yo-you want muh-me here, what's with the frown?.."
You narrowed your eyes down at him and followed suit to his advances. Tho you're pissed–why wouldn't you? It's not everyday somebody clings to you so desperately like this. "Have you been smoking weed? Fuck you stink.."
He ignored your insult and nuzzled his face against your neck, pushing you down on the couch, making you accidentally hit your head on the armrest. You hissed and lifted your head up in annoyance. "Sorry.." He murmured against your neck, lightly rubbing the spot where you hit your head as if he could magically make the pain go away. As if this man knows what pain felt like.
You gritted your teeth in annoyance, narrowing your eyes at him but let go of it soon enough as he cuddled up to you. The man 𝗥𝗘𝗘𝗞𝗦 with sweat, blood and dirt. Sometimes you don't even understand how your gut was strong enough to withstand this stinky man. "I-i missed you Y/N..rea-..really i did.." Toby whispered against your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.
"I don't, damn it. When was the last time you showered?" You spoke harshly thinking he was just gonna cuddle up to you like any other day but that thought was soon scrapped when he pushed your legs apart–quite literally smacking it. He ground his hips against yours lightly, whimpering at your ears like the submissive fuck he was. "Y/N..cuh-can i touch you?.." He whispered softly, his hot breath tickling your neck as he spoke.
Your mind short-circuited at his advances, it took you a good minute to realize what was happening and what he was implying. You laid there staring up at the ceiling with your mouth open trying to think of something to say. It didn't make any sense that you're freaking out now, It's not like this was your first time having him act like a horny teenager around you, this man had his whole adolescence robbed from him by his shitty father–but then again it caught you off guard.
"Well yeah but-.." before you could even finish your sentence, he was already straddling your hips while undoing the belt of his jeans with shaky hands. "Take..take-..this off..please" He spoke in a shaky, breathy voice, tugging at your shorts before going back to his own pants. "You're so pathetic sometimes you know?.." The words left your mouth without you even realizing it.
He whined at your insult, yet you could quite literally see the desperation in his eyes. His cheeks getting reader and he was getting sweatier than usual. You complied to his request or more like his demand, tugging your shorts down along with your underwear. He lifted his hips up a bit so you could pull it down further. "Yes..yes..juh-just like that.." his head twitching to the side from excitement as he stared at your folds.
He unzipped his pants, palming himself two to three times through his boxers before pulling out his half-hard shaft out. He held your hips with one hand, the other stroking his member to life as he focused at the way your body looked underneath him. His mind racing with the intense adrenaline of his previous mission and the person laying beneath him which was 𝘆𝗼𝘂.
You watched thoroughly as he stroked himself, muttering curses underneath his breath as he held you in position with his rough, gloved hand. He's already leaking pre-cum down to your lower stomach, The sight made you shiver throughout your whole body, all the way down to your slick folds.
With half-lidded eyes, he laid flat ontop of you again, nuzzling his face against your neck. His hand squishing between you two as he guided his shaft down at your wet folds. Slowly he sunk into your tight, gummy walls, making him whimper.
He placed one arm over your head while his free hand held your hips tightly, his nails digging onto your flesh enough to bruise.He lazily moved his hips, thrusting in and out of you slowly at first. "Oh shit...you-.. you're so good, so..th-tight.." he moaned against your ear before lightly biting down at your neck. he quickened his pace with each thrust, unable to hold back from the pent up frustration he's stored upon himself.
His weight, alongside the feeling of him biting down on your neck made you feel light headed. You close your eyes tightly, focusing on the perfect rhythm of his hips thrusting against yours. It makes your legs shaky but in a desperate attempt to keep him close, you wrapped your legs around him. The couch creaking beneath you as he went faster. "Jesus Christ.. Toby..slow down-" Your moans more noticeable than before from his roughness.
"Oh fuck-..FUCK! Ah-..mhm.. I'm gonna-.." Toby moaned louder along with you as he chased his orgasm. He felt a familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, his cock twitching with needs and with the last couple of thrusts, he was spilling himself deep inside you. He stayed inside of you, making sure his cum was buried deep within.
You held him tightly against your chest until the pleasure subsided, eyebrows furrowed and beads of sweat forming around your forehead. Slowly you opened your eyes again, adjusting to the darkness of the living room with only the moonlight's glow acting as a dim light for you to see. You ran your hand through the Brunette's hair, pushing his messy hair out of his face.
"You staying?.." You spoke in a breathy tone. Toby responded with a simple hum as he adjusted himself around you. He held you tightly, making sure you won't leave him even after he fell asleep. It's not like you could anyway, he was heavy as hell.
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Hey again,
First I want to preface by saying, I am amazed at the response from my last post. I’m so happy to see so many messages that say it helped them understand it better, butttt…
Since the last post had gained allot of attention, so did my inbox lol, and the asks. I’m going to try and go over the main points I saw allot of you guys asking me and hopefully we can move on from there and clear things up.
A really big question I got funny enough was,
“okay I understand but how do I manifest”
lol you guyssss, I’m not gonna bash anyone because I really do understand the drastic change from dropping the reliance we have on the way things APPEAR to be, and swapping it to relying on ourself for trust, but I will say, what I write is what I’ve already lived through, I wouldn’t give anyone this information if it hadn’t worked for me, and that’s means I’ve shown myself the way this all works, HUNDREDS of times, with an insane variety of topics and aspects of my life, so when I say, please please try to READ the content and truly recognize what it means, I mean it in a way that is with complete certainty, because I’m not just telling you a practice that you pick up at one point of life and either get it or don’t get it.
I’m showing you reality
(oooo I’m already getting excited)
So, how can manifestation be explained?
Let’s take a look at all the aspects of experience when we talk about manifestation, because after all, we are here to choose our experience, but this is actually where our first point starts, you are always choosing the experience. Let’s look at this section first.
We all know, whether we come from LOA (Both kinds) or just have the general idea of manifestation/energy, etc, there is always at some point the topic of source.
And what you’ll notice is, every practice, method, technique, ritual, ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS puts YOU as the focal point. Do you truly think this is coincidence? Is it a coincidence that a vision board is something that you look at? Is it a coincidence that affirming or visualizing is something YOU do? Is it a coincidence that scripting, writing a note, whispering in the air, everything you could possibly think of always has to be something you initiate? No absolutely not.
What I just described is incredibly important for you to understand, and yes I will get to the aspect of feelings how to move forward in life while activating new stories and ideas, but when I say I regret not taking the time to truly understand how IT WAS ABOUT ME BEING SOURCE, I really mean it.
We get so caught up in experiencing and needing and feel overwhelmed by the shit everyone has programmed us to believe which always ends up being limiting.
But one thing that is so badly flawed is that there is never and in depth look at what it means to be source.
I mean this should be the main focus of manifestation, the fact that you are source, but because we become so focused on the world, we turn away from the most important aspect of experience. What I’m about to explain actually goes far beyond right now, it goes ALLLLL the way back…
There is only one source, going back to the beginning of the entire universe, can you try to imagine what’s there? You’d probably come up with just a vast nothingness, but at the same time, you’d be able to recognize that there had to have been something to introduce all of experience right?
Well let’s do this together, let’s imagine the moments before the universe was initiated, in this formless, void, yet no dimensions, no description, no sign of anything actually, but definitely something, some type of thing that has to be here, from which reality takes course.
I think you can see where we’re going, all that is there, is this presence, no identity or sign of personality, but absolutely there. This is source. “Wait then how am I source” you might askkkk, well okay let’s find out how you ARE this source.
When I ask “are you aware” and you of course say yes, I need you to go ahead and find out where the answer yes came from. And not just, “it came from me”, yes we know, but find it, trace the idea back to its origin.
Your going to come up with what you can’t describe
The answer of you being aware of your own existence comes from, a formless nondimensional space, it has no identity, it has no name, it has no appearance, no attributes at all, you could almost mistake it for a void, but as you sit there, coming “face to face” with this empty space that all of your claims, all of your ideas, all aspects of your identity come from, there’s something that is present. It is a presence. It is not a thing, but from this comes absolutely anything and everything that you claim to be true about the world, about experience, about your identity, etc.
That silent presence is source, but more importantly it’s your true identity, the real you.
So what is all of this then? How do we explain the experience part of this?
Let’s speed this up a bit
Now, this part might get a little complicated if you don’t take some time to understand it, like pleaseeee take your time and re-read it a hundred times if you have to.
So, there are a few aspects that stem from source, one of these being perception, and another being sensations, we don’t need to get into the details too hard for these to so I just want you to understand it as “Sense-Perception”. This is just a fancy way to describe the WAY we experience reality, NOT REALITY ITSELF, VERY IMPORTANT.
Feeling, Tasting, Touching, Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, and whatever else you can think of (I think that’s all) ARE FILTERS. It is through the limitations of this filter that you experience your own being, conciousness.
I need you to imagine source, there is no perceiving no attributes, just a vast nothingness, it is full of life and energy which is the starting point for all of existence, but it is not a singular thing.
This is knowing. The very simple effortless thing that you are. From knowing comes absolutely everything and anything.
Let’s take white teeth as an example. So you now know, “white teeth”. However, this is just that, just knowing it, not perceiving it, not touching, not hearing, none of that. But I need you to know that this is infinitely more above any sense or really just anything to ever exist for that matter because it’s source, it’s you.
Now here comes the magic
What would be the result if we added Sense-Perception into/onto knowing? If you not only knew “white teeth” but also saw it? Also heard it? Also could smell, taste, touch, it? Could feel it?
You get what we call the world, no?
You see, the ways we perceive source/ourself is like a VR headset, or glass, or a sheet, and once it’s added to the equation, whatever it is that source is activating/manifesting as, is then experience by source THROUGH/WITH perception.
The part that can be confusing is addressing what currently is perceived. Well, it’s incredibly simple.
We’ve been conditioned into thinking that the senses activating knowing, this is literally just false to begin with because we don’t require senses to know.
For example, you opening your bank account and seeing a balance IS NOT THE REASON to activate the idea “I don’t have enough money” or “I’m can’t overspend”, don’t believe me? then explain why your able to think the same things without looking at your bank account?
If it truly was seeing your bank account that validated the idea, then why are you capable of even knowing anything related to your money story without looking at your bank statements?? It should not be possible without the validation of the senses right?
You shouldn’t be able to think about how poor you are when you’re in the shower, at work, before you sleep.
But it’s possible because what you know is in no way associated or reliant with what is seen. And having the information about what source is should make you hesitant to ever activate a story that doesn’t please you again. You are too comfortable in the cycle your in. I’m sorry if that’s a little harsh.
If we go back to perception being the filter that source experiences its own activity with, you realize that the only thing that ever changes is what’s known. The world is a SIDE EFFECT of VIEWING whats known, LET ME SAY THAT AGAIN.
YOU ARE SOURCE, YOU CREATE, THE WORLD IS WHAT HAPPENS AS A SIDE AFFECT OF PERCIEVING WHAT YOU ARE.
This has absolutely nothing to do with making or forcing things to change, the only thing that changes is you! This is about the way reality works. Not a how to guide on “getting it all”.
Now for the next part, THIS DOES NOT TURN OFF.
When I say that the senses do not create but, YOU DO, that means always!!! So looking in the mirror and complaining about your skin or eye color or nose is not going to ever activate any idea, BECAUSE YOU ARE DOING THE ACTIVATING. Don’t you see?? ITS COMING FROM YOU.
The senses CANT create, they SENSE, they perceive what reality is being! They perceive what IS KNOWN.
They can never ever ever be the cause for what is known. Looking at your teeth cannot create the knowing “my teeth are so yellow” BECAUSE YOU DO. YOU CAN DO THE SAME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED YOU CAN DO THE SAME UNDERWATER, IN THE SHOWER, IN BED, IN THE E.R, WHATEVER IT IS YOU KNOW IS WHAT REALITY IS, AND THIS IS WHATS PERCEIVED, The side affect of percieving “my teeth are yellow”?? Well you tell me what that would be? EXACTLY.
Understand it like this, if the story or idea I’m about to activate right now could be seen, heard, touched, or just perceived in any way, what would it look/sound like? Do you see what this is now?
When you realize that you are source, allot of things start making more sense, the teachers and videos saying it’s all about you, start making sense, but they make it sound like the world is something you CHANGE as if it exists on its own, NO!
The world is the result of what KNOWING is, when it’s perceived.
At no point does this stop being true, so when you go “my teeth are white” this is reality, this is what will be perceived, but if you decide to go into habit and activate “my teeth are yellow”, there is no different process, this is what will be perceived. There is no bias to reality.
The starting point will always and can only be what’s known, the rest is automatic, as it’s always been, the only difference is, you have been activating things that you don’t like, and because this is source, all that will be perceived is what you know, so if it’s about money, or love, business, school, understand, THE MOMENT, you know something, IT IS REALITY!!!! IM NOT EXAGGERATING.
Don’t confuse the world as if it is its own entity or source, no, it’s a side effect or perceiving, NOT something you’re trying to control.
I want you see it for yourself, this information will not be of any use if you don’t see for yourself.
Please please remember. What’s perceived is not a story, it is not an idea, it’s not telling you what reality is, it’s only that, perception, it’s the same thing as looking at a brick wall for information, it cannot and will never be source, notice where the stories activate when you react to the world, and recognize that it’s something that you know, a feeling cannot stop knowing, NOTHING CAN, ITS SOURCE!
Okay, I’m sorry if this is a bit confusing at first, this is a very alternate view of the way we’ve been taught what reality is, and I know you might have allot more questions, I’m more than willing to answer them, but till then, please read this post or my past post again
(Yes im rambling, im very sleep deprived rn)
#blommp717#nonduality#manifestation#manifest#non dualism#law of assumption#master manifestor#nondualism#advaita vedanta#law of attraction#manifesting#manifestationcoach#vision board#affirm and persist#affirmations#robotic affirming
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The way im still thinking about plug!fontaine 😵💫😵💫. Now i cant help but think about Hobie and the reader getting high together for the first time (it would be her first mostly). The way u described that shotgun part in that fic was so good. And it’d hit even more different if Hobie is usually the one getting you all flustered and now you’re high off ur ass and sum purring so now u just start teasing him and saying things he likes AHH I LOVE HOBIE 🤭🤭🤭
Me toooooooo ( ^-^)ノ∠※。.:*:・'°☆ I hope I didn't stray tooooo far from the request lol
☆
high! hobie brown x high! reader | ( obvi nsfw 18+)
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▪︎• you couldn't really give an explanation for why you haven't smoked weed, eaten an edible, done mushrooms or at least gotten high off your shit at least once. you weren't against them, in fact, you knew a lot about them and their medical purposes and benefits. but you still haven't try em.
▪︎• which is surprising cause most of the people you hang around consumed weed. some on a regular basis. and that includes your boyfriend. hell, you met hobie while he was smoking a joint on the balcony of some random house party.
▪︎• you remembered how when he asked if you wanted a hit, you broke into a stutter trying to explain why you declined. he just gave an understanding nod, then pulled his spliff back to rest in between his lips.
▪︎• you felt sorta insecure about it. even though it wasn't that big of a deal to anyone around you. it was to you. you felt like you were missing out on something. this feeling hit you most whenever you watched hobie smoke.
▪︎• you sat on the opposite end of the couch watching as hobie made a joint. his nimble fingers wrapped the paper so easily. like it was second nature. with a quick lick to seal, he had the blunt ready. it rested perfectly between his pretty lips as he searched his vest for a lighter. you wanted it.
"can I get a hit hobie?" he paused his search to turn his attention to you. he looked at you for a bit before he gave you a slight smirk.
▪︎• once he found where that lighter was, he motioned for you to sit closer. you did. you watched intensely as the orange glow of the fire made this all too real. you actually gonna taste your first blunt. and with your boyfriend no less.
▪︎• you felt the familiar feeling of his warm, coarse hands cupping your chin. and the other around your waist, tugging you closer to him. hobie pulled till you were seated on his lap.
▪︎• you were practically pressed to him. you felt the warmth of the blunt, sat between his lips, on the side of your face. you could tell how the blunt would taste from the second hand smoke alone.
"nothin' to be scared of doll. this shi' gonna make you feel real good, trust." he returned your quick nod, then you watched as he inhaled and pulled the blunt from his lips.
▪︎• hobie blew a cloud of smoke in your face, you quickly gathered your senses and inhaled what he gave you. you felt your breath stifle, then the coughs came. you wanted to move back, but his hold on you chin kept you in place.
▪︎• he wanted you to hold still. no running. just taking what he gives no complaints. he knows it's overwhelming, but let him do this. in no time he's gonna have you taking shotguns while he's giving you backshots.
▪︎• he did this multiple times, each time giving you a kiss each time you did better. once he was satisfied, he moved the spliff to your lips. you eagerly took a sharp inhale of smoke. you burst into a fit of coughs. it was embarrassing. you were doing so good. probably you inhaled too hard.
hobie was patting and soothing your back. once the coughs died down, he coached your breaths till they were steady again. "got a little excited huh luv?"
▪︎• he made you get a second inhale this time, he pulled it back once you had enough. you took a couple more with barely a reaction, except for the little stings in your eyes.
▪︎• he was right you do feel so much more relaxed. you rested your head in the crook of his shoulder, tracing little shapes in his jaw. he hummed whenever you would suck a little too hard at his neck, or moved your hips about too much on his lap. even a couple whispered ' you're pretty baby' and 'my gorgeous 'obie'. you giggled at how bashful he looked. he never got shy.
▪︎• you don't know where your sudden urge for sex, or confidence came from. but you loved it. and so did hobie, especially since he was pushing your hips to rutt against his bulge even more.
" 's the weed makin' you act up huh darlin'. I kno'. it's 'ight, I feel it too. mhmm fuck- should do this more often huh? yea?"
▪︎• despite you teasing earlier, you could barely answer him verbally. you were too preoccupied trying to soothe your ache. you knew he could feel your cunt even through the layers of fabric. and you surely felt him too. if it wasn't for the clothes his tip would be pressed into you by now.
▪︎• soon you two became too impatient for the frivolous grinding. and that's how you found yourself with your back against his chest, legs splayed, your panties pulled to the side and hobie's cock slapping against your slit.
▪︎• you two were absolutely spent, just from the sensations alone. 'why wasn't he in you yet fuck. this shit hurts, it's just working you more.' sure the slapping was hot, but it wasn't gonna cut it.
"b-baby?"
"yea darlin'? what's wrong? too much?" you gave a let out a frustrated whine, he soon realized what his baby wanted. and he was more than happy to oblige.
▪︎• you watched as he dangled the blunt in front of you. once you took it between you lips. he gave you once last kiss on the cheek, and told you that he'll stop when the blunt goes out.
▪︎• you felt your entire body seize up as his full was slammed into you. you've taken him unprepped before, but not from his angle. the stretch was different it was like his length was pushing down in you. it felt so good.
▪︎• he kept his promise and didn't stop till the blunt finished. no matter how the ash was knocked onto your tits, he pulled out your bra just so he could grope them. no matter how you whined at how sore you were, or that his couch was messy from how much slick he forced out of you. no matter how much you babbled to him in words not even you could understand. he'd just nod along like he understood you.
▪︎• once the blunt flickered once last time, you let out a groan once you felt his length ease out. sure you were just crying that you couldn't take anymore but you also couldn't help but squeeze one last time.
▪︎• you knew you were both still high as a kite. you lazily lounged on his couch, till the high sensation ceased. once it did you made him swear to smoke with you again tomorrow, you're lucky that's the day his plug was gonna hit him up.
#atsv hobie#hobie x reader#hobie spiderverse#hobie brown x black!reader#hobie brown smut#hobie brown x reader smut#atsv#☆° via writes °☆
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hi i happened to stumble across your page and i read your previous denji fics and loved them! may i request a fem!reader x denji where the reader is a transfer student and denji decided to show her around? it'd be cool if she was an exchange student so her japanese wasn't the best, too.
oh, and in the end or something, it'd be sweet if she called him her friend denji just like melted because he doesn't have great luck with girls.
i had this in my drafts to get posted eventually i cannot fucking believe i forgot about it nonny i am SOSOSOO sorry!!! jeez...
589 words - hinted fem reader but you're not described, if reader's dialogue sounds awkward its intentional
denji comes off as a ‘everybody leaves me’ guy for a sec but as we all know. everybody do be leaving him and its actually not his fault lol ~~~
“You have a nice head.”
“Huh?”
“Head…” you frown under Denji’s quizzing stare, then curling a finger through your hair, “I like it.”
“Oh, hair,” he repeats.
“Hair.”
“Yeah.”
Your frown deepens, “Sorry…”
Denji shrugs, hands in his pockets, “Don’t worry about it. You’re not from here, right?” you nod, almost shyly, “Then, don’t worry about it.”
When you don’t seem visibly relieved or even a little soothed, he continues,
“Really, it isn’t a big deal,” Denji’s been worse off, “I only know one language, you’re learning two.”
“I just worry other people judge me,” you sigh, kicking a rock from under your shoe, “What if they think I’m stupid?”
“They think everyone’s stupid. If anything, being a foreigner will get you admirers,” he shrugs, then nodding towards the door leading back into school from the roof, “Come on. There’s nothing else up here.”
A curious hum leaves you, “Why bring me to the roof first then?” you clasp a hand over your mouth, “Sorry, if that sounds rude.”
“Our class is on the second floor, so if I take my time working down from the roof, we can miss most of the morning classes,” he grins, sharp teeth glinting in the sunlight.
“Is that okay?”
“If they wanted a snappy tour, they shouldn’t have picked me,” he holds the door open for you, “What? You excited to hear boring shit on your first day?”
“Not really…”
“So… let’s just take our time,” he waggles a thin wood slab in front of your face, “Hall pass.”
“Hall pass,” you nod in confirmation, hugging your bag tight to your chest as a comfort device despite trying to appear casual, “Okay! Let’s take our time!”
You really don’t want to seem un-cool in front of this guy… His lax energy and low eyes, unkempt hair and spiky teeth; everything about him screams intimidation, yet he’s been nothing but kind to you.
“There’s nothing you really need on this floor, but I’ll walk you through it anyway,” he folds his arms, “Good to be thorough, huh?”
His tone gives way to utmost sarcasm, it makes you laugh softly.
“Yeah,” you press your lips before finally spitting out, “Can I sit with you later for lunch?”
“Sure.”
“Really?!”
“Why not?” he turns to look at you, “You seem nice. You haven’t tried killing me, and you’re super pretty.”
Again, you have the urge to shout so you do, “Really?!”
He nods, cheeks flaring pink, “You’re so pretty, I’m surprised you haven’t tried killing me yet.”
“Why would I want to kill you?”
Oh, Denji could fall to the floor right now, your voice is so soft and sugary and the crease in your brow is downright pathetic with how concerned it is -- you’re wide-eyed and pouting. You’re so sweet.
“Girls don’t usually like me when I’m alive.”
“That’s terrible…”
“I know.”
“I like you when you’re alive!”
Your earnest exclamation makes his face heat up, palms clammy. He swallows around the sudden uncertainty clogging his throat, “Seriously?”
“Seriously!” you beam, squeezing your bag harder, “You’re a good friend! At least, so far… I’m hoping we can be friends, is that okay?”
Denji sniffles, eyes stinging with waterworks, he clenches his eyes -- praying to avoid tearing up in front of you, and nods curtly, “I’d like that.”
“Yay!” now you’re full blown cuddling your bag against your chest, now from joy instead of nerves, “I’d like that, too!”
Denji thinks you’re the prettiest he’s ever seen when you’re happy like that.
#denji x reader#csm x y/n#csm x reader#denji hayakawa x reader#denji x you#nonny.reqs.🥝#IM HORRIFIED I FORGOT ABOUT THIS OH MY FUCKING GOD
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careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 5)
A/N: hey yall… long time no see with this fic. so, i'm gonna be honest with you, this one is rough in about every way you can imagine. idk why i felt the need to do all of this in this fic, but just be prepared when you read it. thank you for all of the love and support you guys have given me on this fic and the past 12 nights of other content I've been giving you. it means the world to me that you guys continue to stick around and read my shit lol thanks again, lmk what you think, and happy halloween !!
prompt: it's been a year since you last saw sam and colby. you hit up jess, your friend, to see if she can give you the magic spell book to finally get rid of them. but sam and colby know your plan, and they won't be taking this attempt to kill them too kindly. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader
trigger warning: SMUT, like…. so much smut, supernatural powers being used on you, coming on command, multiple orgasms for Y/N, snc are fucking MEAN in this so just a forewarning, very possessive, you're being punished for being a bad girl, edging, watching sam fuck jess your bestie, don't worry she ends up not being real lol, cursing, magic, degrading and praising language, cliffhanger ending??, mentions of: princess, baby girl, good girl, slut, plaything, toy, sex doll, a lot of OURS mentions too, snc threaten you a bunch as well but flip back and forth between being nice and mean, dubcon just to be safe… so if none of that sounds like something you want to read turn back now :)
word count: 5945
You took a deep breath, stepping out of the uber. You strutted into the bar, anxiety hitting you once inside. You searched around, until finally stopping on Jess. You waved, walking over to her.
She stood up, giving you a quick hug, "Wow, Y/N. It's been so long! How have you been? You look great."
"Thanks, Jess. I know, it feels like forever since we last saw each other." You answered honestly.
"Yeah, I think the last time was..." Her voice trailed off, thinking.
"The book." You deadpanned.
She nodded, "Right. The book."
You sat down, your eyes looking her over, "Speaking of, do you have it?"
"Of course. I saw your text to bring it so I did." She pulled it out, sliding it across the table. It still looked the same, leather bound and old, and the sight of it made your heart flutter.
You sighed, "I appreciate you doing this. I wasn't sure if you were still mad at me from last time or-"
"No, no. I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you. Obviously, if someone had told me a magic book was going to make me a boyfriend, I too would have thought they were crazy," Jess laughed. "Well, I guess in your case, two boyfriends."
"Yeah about that... that's why I need this book." You admitted.
"You want to get rid of them? Why?" She asked, leaning in.
"They've been gone for a while now. They pop into my dreams, but haven't been around in about a year. The last time I saw them..." Your mind flooded with the previous time, months back, of them fucking you in front of all your coworkers. None of them remembered the next day, but you did. The images alone made it hard to look anyone in the eye anymore. Your face heated up, "I'll just say it was the last time I truly wanted to see them. They have gone too far and I just don't know how much more I can take from them."
Her expression softened. "I can only imagine what dating a vampire and a demon would be like."
"Dating is the nicest way to describe what we have. It's more of a... free use situationship." You huffed, "But I can't deal with it anymore. I want a normal life, no matter what they claim."
"What do they say?" She inquired.
"They say I enjoy this, what we do. And while that is true to some extent, I can't keep living like this. I mean, how much longer am I supposed to keep having them show up randomly in my life to fuck my brains out? Sure, I enjoy it in the moment, but afterwards I feel embarrassed." You divulged, lowering your eyes to the table.
"I mean, if you like it you shouldn't feel ashamed." She remarked.
"Well, I do. And I just want them gone. I think I've paid my dues back entirely to this book." You gaze down at it, stroking the cover, "I'm sorry. Please help me get rid of them."
She snickered, "How about we don't do that in the middle of this bar?"
"That's probably a good idea." You placed the book next to you, exhaling. "So, how has your dating life been since the book shut? Please tell me it went back to normal so that I might have something to look forward to."
"Oh yeah, it's been normal alright. Some highs, some lows." She chuckled, "Speaking of, I actually invited one of the guys I've been seeing to come here."
"That's cool. Is he nice?" You questioned.
"Yeah, super sweet. And he plans to bring his best friend with him. So, if you wanna stick around and meet him, maybe you can start this new chapter sooner rather than later?" She suggested, beaming mischievously.
You shrugged, "Sounds good to me. Let's get a drink first though."
"Already ordered. Should be here... now." Jess smiled at the waitress, who placed down two drinks. "Thank you."
You raised your drink, "Cheers... to new beginnings."
"Cheers." She raised her glass, clinking it with yours. You both sipped on your drinks, nodding at the taste. Jess' phone buzzed on the table, she glanced down and beamed. "Oh, they're here."
You nodded, waiting uncomfortably. You weren't sure if you were really in the mood to meet these two new guys, but you figured you'd stay to finish your drink and then leave. No harm, no foul.
"Hey baby girl, how you doing?" A familiar voice spoke, walking up to Jess and embracing her.
You glanced up. Your stomach dropped and your heart sped up. This can't be happening.
"Hey Sam. This is my friend Y/N." Jess introduced.
"Hello, nice to meet you." Sam grinned, then pointed next to you. "And this is my friend Colby."
"Hi." Colby stated simply, locking eyes with you. His face was cold, with just a hint of a devilish glint.
You shuttered a breath, chest heavy. "There's no fucking way..."
"What? What's wrong?" Jess furrowed her brow.
"I-I, I can't do this. No. I absolutely won't do this." You slid out of your seat, shoving Colby and walking towards the bathrooms. You could hear them call after you, but you ignored them. You needed to leave, you knew that. But you wanted to just be away from them for a moment to get your bearings.
You stumbled into the bathroom, locking yourself in a stall. You took some deep breaths, trying to calm yourself. You were okay, you were in control, and there was no way that this was going to start up again. Sam and Colby were just fucking with you, once again, and you were not going to allow that to happen. You had the book, and so you-
FUCK, the book! The book was still on the table.... now with Sam and Colby.
You covered your face with your hands, muffling a scream of frustration. You grunted, pushing the stall door open and exiting the bathroom.
You stomped back into the bar, freezing the moment you did. The table was empty, Jess, the boys, and the book were nowhere to be found. There was, however, a small note on the table. You grabbed it, reading it quickly.
If you want to see the book again, come to the back of the bar.
- Sam and Colby
You spun on your heel, retracing your steps. You passed the bathrooms, continuing to walk down the hallway. You had been to this bar a couple times before, knowing that the back area was for special occasions, parties. As you drew closer to the room, you noticed the red lights illuminating the hallway and door. You swallowed hard, turning the knob and stepping into the room.
It was dark, and very hard to make out anything in it. You knew there were tables and chairs around, but you didn't see any from the little vision you had. You raised your hand, trying to feel around for a light switch or something. Suddenly, you felt a hand grab you, shoving you down onto a soft surface. You fought against their hold; pushing, shoving. But it didn't stop them from wrapping something tight around your wrists, pulling them away from your body. You cursed out whoever was touching you, kicking them hard. They had no reaction to you, just pushing your legs back down onto the surface.
The lights in the room turned on. You blinked rapidly, looking around quickly. You were on a bed, tied to the bedpost by your wrist. At the end of the bed stood Sam and Colby, smiling at you.
"Princess, so glad you could join us." Colby quipped.
Sam nodded, "We've missed you so much."
"Fuck you! What the hell is this shit for?" You yelled, shaking against your binds.
"You know, we could ask you the very same thing about..." Colby pulled the book out from behind his back, "This."
"Care to explain why you have this?" Sam asked innocently.
"Just gonna do some light reading." You sneered.
Colby rolled his eyes, "You don't really have room to play coy with us, Y/N. You might want to start explaining yourself."
"I have nothing to say to you." You spat.
"Is that so? Then I guess you're okay with this." Sam pulled out a silk cloth. You glared at him and the fabric, confused. He slid up the bed, taking the cloth and wrapping it around your head, covering your mouth. You tried to fight against him, but with your arms tied there wasn't much you could do besides rock your body side to side.
"As much as I love your little moans and whimpers, you not being able to talk gets me going just as much." Sam teased, his voice low in your ear.
You rolled your eyes and watched him slithered back down to the end of the bed.
"Now that we've got your complete attention, let's start. First off, princess, how dare you?" Colby scoffed. "We've done nothing but make your life better and this is the thanks we get? You, trying to get rid of us? Bad girl."
"Even though we haven't been around, we have been watching you. And we heard about your little plan to cut us loose. How exactly did you think that would play out for you?" Sam demanded.
Colby stepped closer, glaring down at you. "Do you remember what we said last time? You're ours. We own you. What about that screams 'I have a choice'?"
Sam leaned against the bedpost, "Well, she does have a choice. She just realistically won't make the one that actually sends us away."
"You're right, Sam. You know why? Because she enjoys this. Us. What we do to her." Colby chuckled darkly.
"Exactly. And God knows, if she saw us with someone else, she would lose her mind." Sam taunted.
You grunted against the gag, angrily.
"What was that sweetheart? You're gonna have to speak up." Colby sassed, his eyes cold.
You glared daggers at Colby, cursing him out loudly in your head.
"Ooh, harsh words from such a sweet girl." He slid his hand over his chest, "If I had a heart, it would be broken."
"I have one... It doesn't beat, though. But if it did, it would beat only for you." Sam fluttered his eyelashes at you jokingly.
"Always the romantic, Sam." Colby exhaled, "Anyway, how about we test out our theory? Would you do the honors?"
"Sure." Sam turned to the door, calling, "Jess! Come on out."
Colby narrowed his eyes, mumbling. "I could have yelled for her."
Jess stepped into the room, slowly walking over and standing in between Sam and Colby. Your heart sped up, gazing back and forth between her and them. Was she under their spell? Why was she not reacting?
He pointed between the two of them, "Do you wanna go first or-?"
Sam agreed, "You go ahead. I am the one that's been dating Jess."
"That's true. Jess?" She turned to Colby, her glassy eyes reflecting in the lights. "Start sucking his dick."
Jess nodded, dropping to her knees instantly and undoing Sam's pants. You gasped against the gag, looking away as best you could.
"No no, princess. You need to watch. This is your punishment, after all." Colby marched up to you, turning your head to them. His eyes snaked over your face, smirking. "If looks could kill… I'd be dead again. But anyway, keep looking at them."
Your eyes locked onto Jess and Sam, widening as you realized you couldn't look away.
"Happy Halloween, babe." He warned cockily, "Remember... I'm a lot stronger tonight. And so is Sam."
Jess' head bobbed up and down on Sam's cock, slurping and sucking noises falling from her lips. Sam's hands rested on the back of her head, keeping her rhythm steady. He grew harder and harder in her mouth with her actions. He rolled his head back in pleasure, humming low.
Seeing Sam's dick work itself in and out of her mouth turned you on. You hated admitting it, but it was true. Just the thought of their dicks alone made you wet.
"We told you if you tried to get rid of us, we would have to punish you. So, this is what you deserve. You only have yourself to blame." Colby hissed.
You wanted to roll your eyes, or glare, but they remained on Sam and Jess. You could feel your sex grow slick, your thighs pressing together.
"Oh no sweetheart, you gotta keep your legs apart." Colby grabbed your thighs, forcing them open. You shoved at him with your legs, doing your best to kick him.
"Fine, if you're gonna do that..." He pulled back, snapping his fingers. Suddenly your legs were chained to a bar that separated them from one another. You tried to shimmy your legs, but the bar clicked them further apart.
Colby smirked, "You might want to stop doing that. The more you move your legs, the farther apart they are gonna be. And I have a feeling you don't want to be full spread eagle. Now, I wouldn't be against it-"
"Me neither." Sam chimed in, moaning.
"Him either, but assumingly because of your attitude, you wouldn't like it," he snickered. "Look at me, princess."
You turned your head sharply towards him, your eyes fixating on him. He smiled calmly, looking over your face. "Such a pretty girl."
You cursed at your stomach as it flipped from his words. You hated his affect on you.
"You can say that all you want, Y/N. But you didn't seem to feel that way every. single. time. I've fucked you. That we've fucked you. Do you need a refresher?
Colby placed a single finger in between your breasts, and your mind became flooded with thoughts and memories of your time together with the boys. You could almost feel them inside of you, fucking your cunt roughly and bringing you to the brink of orgasm.
You panted against the gag, feeling pleasure rack your body all over. You shook against the bed, grinding your hips up into the air to relieve some tension, but to no avail.
"Do you need some help there, baby?" Colby uttered, his face close to yours.
Sam's voice strained as he fucked Jess' mouth. "Yeah, Colby. Help her out. Maybe she can come when I do."
"Oh, that sounds fun." Colby waved his hand in a figure eight, and you felt a device press itself on your clit. A low vibration began, and your eyes rolled slightly into your head.
"How's that feel, Y/N? Good? Bad? Do you need more?" The vibrations turned up higher, your thighs wanting to clench around the device. "Or less?"
You whined, trying to push yourself harder onto the vibrator. Colby hummed, watching you squirm.
“Watch Sam fuck Jess' mouth.” He commanded.
Your head turned to Sam, taking in everything. He was holding onto Jess' head much harder now, bucking his hips into her mouth quickly. He looked at you, winked, and fucked her mouth harder. Jess enthusiastically gagged, digging her nails into Sam's thighs.
The vibrator grew to a higher intensity, your legs shaking pleasurably. Your heart was ramping up faster and faster, your body starting to feel like it was just coming close to the edge. Part of was jealous of Jess, because all you wanted was Sam to be fucking you like that. Or Colby. Or both.
"If you honestly think you're gonna come right now, you're wrong." Colby whispered harshly in your ear, turning the vibrator down low.
You grunted, wanting to look at him. You fought against your binds, the bar for your legs separating farther.
"I told you to stop doing that, sweetie. Because now, I can turn this up," the vibrator pressed harder into your clit, going to max speed suddenly. "And now, it can get even closer to you and your aching clit."
Sam's eyes met yours, "Baby girl, I'm sorry he's so mean. I swear when I'm done with Jess, I'll make sure to treat you right."
"Remember Y/N, he's the weird one. Don't trust him." Colby taunted, turning the vibrator down again.
"Fuck, I'm getting close. You have such a good mouth, Jess." Sam commented hungrily.
Colby gasped, "How about this, Y/N? Let's play a game. I'll let you come if you admit how jealous you are of Jess."
"Are you jealous, plaything?" Sam cooed mockingly, still fucking Jess' mouth.
Colby turned your head to him, holding your chin in his hand. "Oh, very. Let's see if she'll admit it."
He tore the gag away, a loud breath immediately leaving your lips. "The floor is yours, princess."
You seethed, "Fuck. You."
Aww, she's just playing shy now. Why don't we see how she really feels?" Colby cranked the vibrator up to the max setting, the buzzing loud in your ears.
You whimpered helplessly, thrusting your hips against the toy. You couldn't help it; your clit was throbbing and your mind was fuzzy from watching Sam fuck another girl's mouth. And all you wanted was for one of them to touch you.
This was not how you thought this night would go.
Colby pressed his body closer to yours. You could feel the heat of him rolling off onto you. "Just say how you truly feel, and I'll make sure you come. Speak your mind."
"I'm getting real close-" Sam's hips sped up, his body glistening with sweat. "Fuuuuck! So you better make it quick, slut."
"Come on, Y/N. Tell us the truth. Say you're jealous. Say you want Sam to fuck your mouth like that. Do it!" Colby ordered.
You held your tongue defiantly, whining as it felt like the vibrator grew stronger and stronger against your dripping sex.
He cocked his head to the side, "You're really not gonna speak? Okay, then. Maybe we really have to pull it out of you."
Hands and fingers began touching you all over, caressing your body in the most sensitive places. You rutted against the vibrator, your body having a mind of it's own. You moaned loudly, surprised by the pleasure.
"That's it baby, I know you're getting close. Just say you want to be here, with my cock in your mouth, and you'll get to come." Sam growled, thrusting faster and faster.
You stuttered, your mouth barely able to form words, "F-Fuck, fine. I want your cock in my mouth."
"And what else, princess?" Colby egged on.
"I-I'm jealous of Jess. Please let me come and please fuck my mouth." You whimpered, biting your lip.
"God, your pleas are so pretty. Fuck, I'm gonna come!" Sam bucked his hips hastily, slamming repeatedly into Jess' mouth. She choked and gagged on his dick, taking it effortlessly. He came down her throat, letting out a breathy groan as he did. He slowed his hips, still holding her head in place.
"Do you wanna come, Y/N?" Colby whispered.
You panted, moving your hips faster against the toy. "Yes! Please!"
"I'm happy you're in a better mood now." Colby smiled, then his face dropped. "But no."
The vibration and hands disappeared, leaving your body trembling, "W-What?"
"No. You don't get to come. You have to do much better than that." He snapped his fingers, the binds holding you down disappearing. "Take your clothes off, get on your knees, and masturbate in front of us."
Your body followed Colby's words, dropping down hard. You ripped your clothes off your body desperately. The cool air hit your warm skin, causing your nipples to harden and your whole body to grow chills. Your fingers found your swollen clit, rubbing intensely. You stifled a cried, anger filling your veins as you looked up at Sam and Colby.
"You've done your job, Jess. You can go."
Jess nodded, slowly walking out of the room with tear stained cheeks and cum drooling out of her mouth.
You snarled at them, somehow able to speak while pleasuring yourself. "How dare you do that to her! You guys are fucking sick."
"First off, what the hell did you expect from a demon and a vampire? We're depraved. Sue us." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed. "And secondly, she wasn't even real."
You narrowed your eyes, your breath quickening. "What? H-How?"
"Magic. It's Halloween baby." Sam chuckled, jumping towards you, "Boo!"
"Jess was really here at one point, but she left a long time ago. Hell, once she gave you the book, she was done. So, the rest has just been in your head." Colby explained.
Sam added proudly, "Made up by us, of course."
"Speaking of the book, let me just pull it back out." Colby flipped through it, skimming over the pages lazily. He sighed, "It sucks I can't read Latin."
Sam scoffed, "Aren't you a demon? Isn't that what you guys do?"
"You know, that is incredibly rude to say. How stereotypical of you to think that, Samuel." Colby frowned disappointedly, "I expected more from you."
"Sorry. I'll do better next time." Sam apologized.
You groaned huskily, trying to stop yourself from masturbating. But your hands kept moving. "Don't you guys get sick of hearing your own voice?!"
Sam shook his head. "No. Not really."
"Oh I'm sorry, princess." Colby's eyes turned black as he lowered himself to your face. His voice thundered off the walls of the room, "Did you expect us to be fucking nice when you got this book to fucking kill us?! You're lucky all we're doing is making you edge. There are lot worse things I could fucking do to you, but this is me playing nice."
Sam gaped, "That gave me chills."
"Shut up, Sam." You jeered.
Sam's eyes turned red, glaring at you. He yanked the book from Colby's hands, flipping open to a page, and tearing it out of the book.
Your voice croaked, "W-What are you doing?!"
"Punishing you. I don't know if that spell was important, but let's hope for your sake it wasn't." Sam retorted.
"Please, don't! I'm sorry! Fuuuck. I'll be a good girl." You whined helplessly.
He snapped, "I'm sure you will. Since that's the only way you're gonna come."
You suddenly felt a vibrator press against your cunt again. A desperate wail ripped through you, sweat dripping down your back as your body grew hotter and hotter.
Colby cupped your face, making you look up at him and Sam. "Tell us the truth, Y/N. How did watching Sam fuck Jess make you feel?"
You felt your mouth speak, but you had no choice on what you were saying. The truth spilled out of you. "I-I hated it. Oh my God, I hated it! I wished it was me."
"And what about now? What do you want?" Sam asked teasingly.
You bounced on the vibrator, pushing yourself against it harder. "I want to come! I want you to fuck me! Please!! Fuck, please please. I just need to come so badly."
Colby leaned in, "Who do you belong to?"
"You!" You exclaimed.
Sam repeated, "Who do you belong to?"
"Y-You!" You looked at him, pleading.
"That's it baby. Get right to the edge, I know. I know you wanna come. Do it for me. Get right there, get right there!" Colby commanded, nodding as you did what you were told.
Your fingers rubbed faster and faster, the vibrator matching your speed. You panted and whimpered, feeling yourself get right to the edge. You knew any second now you were going to come. All you could think about was coming and having Sam and Colby fuck you.
Colby smiled, "Stop touching yourself."
Your hands dropped to your sides, the vibrator disappearing. Your eyes welled up, your body still shaking with ecstasy, ready to fall over the edge at any second. A strangled cry heaved in your chest, your eyes boring into Sam and Colby's.
"Don't look so sad, baby girl. We would never leave you unsatisfied." Sam rubbed your hair softly for a moment, "Get on the bed for us."
"Lay on your back. Keep your legs and head off the bed." Colby instructed.
You did as you were told, stumbling awkwardly to the bed again. You laid down, allowing your legs to dangle off one side and your head on the other. Colby was suddenly at your feet, naked and spreading your legs wide. You felt the bar back again, keeping your legs locked and apart. He took the bar and put it around his neck, keeping your legs up. Your feet rested on his shoulder as he gazed down at your soaked pussy.
"It pains me to torture you like this, princess. Do you know how hard you've made me?" He groaned, stroking himself, "My cock has just been dying to bury itself inside you. Exactly where it belongs."
"Hi, toy. You ready for me to use your throat? That's what you wanted, right?" Sam appeared above you, his shaft dangling just above your mouth.
You nodded, unable to form words with how horny you were.
They both filled you up at the same time, not even giving you a warning. They groaned in unison, your moans muffled by Sam's cock deep within your throat. They stilled their hips, pushing all the way to the hilt until they couldn't no more.
Colby sighed happily, "The best days of my life are when I'm inside of you, Y/N. Your cunt is like heaven."
"I don't know which one is better, her mouth or her pussy. But either way, I love them both." Sam keened.
Colby chuckled darkly, "That's all you are to us, you know. Just two holes. For us to use."
"What did she say we had? A free use situationship? That sounds about right." Sam laughed.
"And you wouldn't want it any other way. You love being used. You love how we take whatever we want from you." Their hips were matching each other in tandem, thrusting into you at a slow pace.
Sam continued, shooting back. "You were literally on the floor, begging us to let you come. And now your cunt and mouth are filled with our cocks. What a fucking slut.
Colby gasped breathlessly, "Fuck, you tightened around me when he said that. Is that what you are, princess? A slut?"
Sam mocked, tsking. "I thought you wanted to be a good girl."
"Good girls don't get used like this. Good girls don't try to get rid of their fuck buddies." Colby cursed.
"Good girls don't have fuck buddies. Good girls have boyfriends that love and cherish them." Sam snickered.
"Maybe we do feel that way for you, baby. We just have such." Colby bucked his hips into your hard once, "a funny." Twice. "way." Thrice. "of showing it."
"We do love you baby girl. We care about you so much. Which is why you can't be with anyone else. Who else is gonna treat you this good?" Sam moved his cock a bit deeper, making you choke.
"Exactly. Who else is gonna make you come like this?" Colby breathed, smirking.
Suddenly an orgasm rocked through you. You gagged on Sam's cock, unable to stop yourself from thrust back and forth on their cocks. You bucked wantonly, gripping the bed sheet as your legs shook against Colby.
Sam was in awe, "There's our plaything! God, having you choke on my cock makes me wanna come again."
Colby smiled lazily, "She's been so good for us. How about you give us another orgasm baby?"
Another orgasm hit you just as the last one started to fade. You shuttered against Colby's shaft, shaking intensely. You whined around Sam, white knuckling the bed.
"There you go. I know how badly you wanted to come, princess. You squeezed my cock so tightly then. You just want to milk me dry, don't you?" Colby spoke in a needy tone.
Sam buried himself in your throat, "How about another, just because?"
Once more, you erupted in euphoria. Your thighs trembled and your eyes blurred with tears as you cried out in pain and pleasure. Your mind went blank, seeing stars as you rode out your high.
The boys laughed, still thrusting into you, but now a bit faster. "Oh Sam, that was mean. She didn't deserve that."
"I thought she said she wanted to come. I'm just granting her wish." Sam sang teasingly.
"That's true. How about... Colby hummed, plunging all the way into your sex, "one more for good measure?"
Your cunt exploded in yet another climax. Your come leaked down your inner thighs, soaking you and the bed. Your back arched and your hands clung onto Sam's hands, needing something to ground you. You could barely think, the pleasure too much for you.
"I think you've had your fun, babe. It's time for us to have ours." Colby spat.
Sam and Colby sped up their thrusts, your body at their whim. Colby drove his sex into yours, the sounds of your wet cunt sending a shiver up your spine. Sam cupped your throat with his hand as he bucked his cock into you. Your jaw had grown slack, allowing him more access to your mouth and throat.
You laid still on the bed, letting the men use you. You felt dazed in the best way. Your body trembled with lust, your skin feeling cool in the hot air of the room. Maybe you were wrong about getting rid of the boys. How could you think of getting rid of them when they were able to make you feel this amazing?
Colby ran his hands up and down your legs, squeezing your thighs tightly. "God baby, I just love how tight you are. Fuck, you are taking my cock so well. You know what? I forgive you for your attitude earlier. Clearly you just needed a good fucking from us."
Sam moaned, "Just needed to be reminded who owns you."
"That's right. You're ours, princess. And we're yours. We'd never want to fuck someone other than you. You're all we want. And we're all you want, yeah?" Colby questioned, his voice hoarse.
You nodded, blinking rapidly from the tears clouding your vision as Sam continued pounding into your throat, gagging you.
Colby's eyes darkened as he glared at you. "Next time though, we won't be nice. You'll really learn the meaning of free use, you understand me?"
Sam grunted huskily, "God, don't tempt me. I would love to use you freely."
Colby leaned forward, uttering, "I told you he was a freak."
"As if you wouldn't too." Sam argued breathlessly. "Are you getting close, sweetie? Do you wanna come again?"
You groaned around Sam's dick, bobbing your head.
Sam gave a smug smile to Colby, picking up his pace. "I think that's a yes."
"Well, you're just gonna have to wait, princess. I want you to come with us." Colby matched his pace, plowing into you.
Sam whined, "I want to come in her pussy this time."
"So do I." Colby halted, "How about I come in her first and you come in her afterwards?"
Sam nodded eagerly. "Sounds amazing. You won't mind, right baby girl?"
You didn't say anything, just kept bouncing and sucking on their cocks. You were so mindless you barely understood them anymore. All you knew is that you wanted their cum inside you soon. That's all you could think about.
Colby cooed, grinning lustfully. "Aww, we mindfucked her. She has nothing going on up there."
"That's perfect. I love a girl so cummed out of her mind she doesn't know how to even speak." Sam growled, smirking.
"She’s basically a sex doll for us. No thoughts, just a set of wet holes for us to use and come in. God, you're so fucking sexy, princess." Colby's hips moved faster, his body shaking yours with each thrust.
Sam kept his cock inside of your mouth, "You getting close, Colby?"
"Fuuuck, yes. Her cunt is gripping my cock. Jesus Christ you feel so fucking good baby." Colby pounded your pussy desperately, his hands gripping your legs.
"That's it, Y/N. Milk his cock. Make him come." Sam bossed.
"I'm gonna fucking breed you, princess. You love when I do that. A-And you're gonna come when I do." Colby sped up his thrusts, jackhammering into you. He picked your hips up off the bed, hitting you even deeper. He shouted passionately, "Fuck I'm right there! F-Fuck! Come for me!"
You shattered, choking out a filthy mewl around Sam's member. Your hips met Colby's with each of his thrusts. He plunged into you a final time, spilling all of his seed deep within you. You felt your cunt fill with his load, throbbing around him intensely. His groans grew quiet, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.
Colby caught his breath, exhaling deeply. "You're such a good girl for us. And now, you're gonna take Sam's come."
He pulled out, your pussy feeling empty and used. But then it was filled up once more, now with Sam. You gasped huskily, your throat sore from his round on it. You glanced down at Sam as he began pounding into you.
Colby rubbed your face sweetly, wiping the drool off of the corners of your mouth. "Open up, princess. I need somewhere to rest my cock until he comes."
You popped your mouth open, taking Colby's semi-hard dick and letting it fill you up. You were used to having something there now, and you were happy to have it be Colby's.
"Do you like tasting yourself on my cock, slut?" Colby commented.
You hummed, agreeing mindlessly. Sam started slamming himself into you, your body shaking with each deep thrust. Your cunt gushed around him, wet from your and Colby's cum.
"Holy shit, you feel amazing baby girl! Fuck I'm getting so close. When I come, you come too!" Sam howled, bucking wildly.
Colby reached over, rubbing your clit in time with Sam's thrusts. "Just one more time, Y/N. Give us everything you got. Be a good girl for us."
Sam's eyes flashed red, his fangs appearing. "God damn - yes! Milk my cock, Y/N. Take every drop of my fucking cum and come with me!"
The ecstasy you felt was unlike anything you every experienced before. Your vision went white, unable to see or hear anything. You rutted up to meet Sam's thrusts, your body moving purely on instinct. You no longer had even an ounce of control over your body. You felt your throat vibrate with gurgled screams and cries. You soaked his dick and sucked on Colby's, your body rag dolling against the bed.
"So good for us. You did so well, angel." Colby murmured.
Sam breathed, staring at you sweetly. "You're so pretty when you come. Our pretty girl. You can rest now"
Your eyes fluttered, your body exhausting beyond repair. You closed your eyes, passing out instantly.
When you finally awoke, your body was sore from your wrists to your ankles. You were back in your room, but you knew that that wasn't a dream. As you sat up in bed, an object on the floor stood out to you.
The book. It was here, in your house. And away from Sam and Colby.
You jumped out of bed, grabbing it. You looked it over, flipping through the pages. The piece that Sam tore out must have been back in as the book was intact.
You nodded to yourself, knowing what you had to do next.
Time to get rid of Sam and Colby.
<< Part 4 ||
#sam and colby#sam golbach#colby brock#sam golbach fanfic#sam golbach fic#sam golbach fanfiction#colby brock fic#colby brock fanfic#colby brock fanfiction#sam golbach smut#colby brock smut#sam golbach one shot#colby brock one shot#sam golbach oneshot#colby brock oneshot#sam golbach x reader#colby brock x reader#sam and colby x reader#golbrocklovely's 13 nights of halloween
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shrine of your lights
Eddie Munson x fwb!Reader edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?
foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!
cw: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)
wc: 4.8k
___
The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.
When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.
To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.
You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.
Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.
While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.
“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”
The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”
There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.
You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.
“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”
The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”
You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”
The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.
You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.
“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”
“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”
This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”
You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”
He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”
“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”
He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”
Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”
“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”
He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”
You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”
Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.
“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.
Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.
The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”
He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.
Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.
You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.
That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.
He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.
You almost believe him.
He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.
The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.
“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.
You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.
“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.
The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.
Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.
There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.
“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”
Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”
You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”
Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.
“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”
Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.
He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.
Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.
Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”
You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”
Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”
With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”
Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”
“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”
There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.
He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”
In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”
Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”
Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”
“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”
His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.
“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.
It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.
But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.
You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).
Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”
“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.
You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.
“What?”
“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”
So you let him look.
While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.
After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”
You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”
“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”
Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.
So why is it making you so sad?
You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.
Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.
“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”
Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”
You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.
In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.
“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”
“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.
Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.
His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.
“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”
“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”
Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”
At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.
And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.
It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.
You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.
“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”
Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.
His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.
Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”
Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”
He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.
“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”
“Jesus fucking christ.”
Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”
“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.
You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.
“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”
You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”
When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.
Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.
Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”
He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.
When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”
Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.
“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”
“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”
Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”
When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.
“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”
Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”
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