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atleastpleasetelephone · 3 days ago

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Little Darling

Chapter 12 - Leave the traces far behind

It's 1997, and Elvis is still alive and well. He quit music in 1972 after a successful world tour, and now he runs Presley Studios - teaching people karate across America. His daughter and grandchildren are regular visitors at Graceland, and when he’s in Memphis he likes to do a little teaching. His life is quieter now, though. Most of the Mafia have gone - going to live their own lives - and after his divorce from his second wife, Elvis is sworn off women for good. Will a Welsh girl with a wicked sense of humour be the one to make him break his promise to himself not to fall in love again?

Need to catch up? Go here.

Pairing: Old Man!Elvis x OC - Tegan, a Welsh girl he meets at karate.

Word count: 5.2K

TWs: Drinking, objectification/worship, possessive kink, MMF threesome, Elvis is a little dominant, reverse harem (kinda), ALL THE SMUT (including DP).

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS!! This is my fic gift to you all. Hope you enjoy!

Christmas Day at Graceland is just as magical as Tegan had imagined, and maybe even a little more so. There are lights twinkling everywhere and the smell of food wafts out from the kitchen all day long. The kids are chaotic as always but she enjoys watching them open their presents and play more with the boxes than the actual gifts themselves. Coffi even gets some energy and spends a lot of the morning sitting and shredding wrapping paper whilst making little contented noises. The adults exchange presents a little later, and despite everything Elvis had given her previously, Tegan still finds herself with a mountain to open. She had struggled to think of what to buy him, with him being so notoriously difficult to buy for and Sonny and Lisa providing her with precisely no help when she’d asked.

“Oh, it’s probably better not to bother getting him a gift,” Lisa had told her. “He can get it all himself anyway.”

But Tegan wasn’t happy with that, she couldn’t conceive of getting the man she loved nothing for Christmas (aside from all of the parading around in her underwear and promises of sex) so she spent days at a time wandering around the shops, looking for inspiration. She talked to Lowell for a long time, and to Mr Lansky. They had a lot of standard suggestions - rings, bracelets, jackets, shirts… none of it really stood out to her. He didn’t wear a huge amount of jewellery nowadays, and tended to live in leisurewear rather than tailored suits. She had just about given up hope when she saw a beautiful silver photo frame in an antique store, and remembered the photos in the living room at Graceland.

She passes him the present nervously.

“Oh, honey. Ya didn’t have ta…” he sees the look on her face when he says that, and quickly adds, “but I’m glad ya did. No-one ever gets me anything.”

It’s true, and sometimes it does make him a little sad. Of course he can buy things himself, but he likes to imagine people thinking of him and wanting to get him something he’d like, once in a while.

He tears the paper open and finds a large silver photo frame, with a polaroid of Tegan and Coffi in it.

“It’s just a placeholder,” she explains, gesturing at the photos on the wall. “I thought we could get some professional ones done and put the best one in there…”

Elvis grins. “I like this one a lot honey,” winking at her. He’d told her about his love of dirty polaroids and he’s pretty sure this is a reference to that. “But I think that’s a wonderful idea.”

She beams. “I’ve got you something else too.”

She hands him another, smaller package, and he opens it with curiosity. It’s a photo album, and it’s full of pictures from their holiday. Lisa’s partner is an amateur photographer and had spent half of the vacation taking candid shots of everyone, some of which had turned out pretty nicely. And some of which were just downright hilarious. Once she’d seen the frame she got in contact with him and he got her some copies.

“Honey! This is incredible.” Elvis is beaming, flicking through the pages, then kissing her enthusiastically. He loves it.

Just as he’s finished with the kisses, the doorbell goes.

“I’ll get it,” she says, as Elvis looks at his gift again.

Tegan opens the door to a man in jeans and a suit jacket, his white shirt half unbuttoned and exposing a large amount of chest hair. Her first thought is that he must be cold, and her second thought is who the fuck is this? The memory of Elvis telling her about his friend Jerry coincides with him putting out his hand and introducing himself.

“Oh, hi Jerry. I’m Tegan. Elvis’... girlfriend.” It still seems weird to her, saying that. Especially to his old friends. “Come in to the warm!”

Jerry stares at Tegan unabashedly. Elvis had talked about her a few times on the phone, so he knew she was more than 20 years younger than his friend. But he didn’t think she’d be dressed quite so eye-catchingly on Christmas Day. He drags his eyes back up from her breasts with some difficulty.

“Thanks, honey. You’re…uh… British?”

She smiles, closing the door behind him and ushering him into the living room. “Yeah, kinda. Welsh to be more specific, but British will do.” She notices him looking at the top of her head and remembers the crown-like tiara. “Elvis thinks I sound like the Queen,” she says, by way of explanation, touching the top of it.

Jerry laughs. “That sounds like EP.”

Elvis gets up from where he’d been kneeling on the floor between Maria’s two kids, showing them the photos, and starts to make his way over to Jerry. But not before Gina can do her usual trick of barrelling into Tegan with a squeal and then holding her hands above her head to ask to be picked up.

“Hi, Gina,” Tegan says, wearily, picking her up and then desperately trying to keep her from grabbing the crown. “Gina, this is Jerry. Jerry, this monster is Gina, she belongs to my friend Maria over there.”

Jerry takes one of Gina’s little hands and gallantly kisses the back of it. “Pleased to meet you, little miss.”

“Ha! Still charming the ladies I see!” Elvis booms, before grabbing Jerry in a big hug.

They slap one another on the back and exchange pleasantries for a moment. Then Elvis extracts Gina from Tegan’s arms and gives her a kiss on the top of her head, telling her something about presents and her mother and launching her back into the room. Tegan sighs with relief and tries to check her hair with her hands. She feels Elvis’ arm slip around her waist.

“What d’ya think a my woman, Jerry?”

Jerry laughs. “I think you’re very lucky, EP. But then you always were a lucky old dog.”

Elvis smirks. “Yer not wrong, Jer. C’mon, lemme introduce ya to everyone.”

As he turns to the room and starts his introductions, Tegan feels that familiar tingling between her legs. Something about the compliment from Jerry and the way Elvis had asked him about her like she wasn’t there had turned her brain to mush. She squeezes Elvis’ side and he looks at her briefly, noting her slightly flushed face and guessing with a smile that he knows exactly what has caused it…

***

The rest of the day passes happily, with lots of food and drink and merriment. Just after lunch, Tegan finds herself chatting with Jerry. She thinks he's easy to talk to and more than a little handsome, but there’s some sadness mixed in there too. He tells her about his imminent divorce and she listens. She can't help empathising with his description of the death of a relationship where no-one is to blame, and Jerry is glad to talk to someone who understands for a change. He tries not to talk her ear off about it though. He knows there’s nothing more tiresome than someone you don’t know going on about their divorce.

***

It’s late, and most people have decided to take their exhausted children home. Everyone except Jerry, actually, who is sitting with Elvis on the couch in the den, Tegan sandwiched between them. She’s been enjoying listening to their stories of the old days, sipping on more than a few glasses of liquor, the three of them sliding into inebriation almost without noticing. There’s a natural pause in the conversation, and then Elvis thinks of something that had interested him earlier.

“Ya like my woman, Jer?”

Jerry looks at his friend and then at the woman sitting next to him. He does like her. He always seems to end up liking Elvis’ women. Even now, after all this time.

“Sure.”

“What d’ya like about her?”

“I…uh… well I mean she’s very pretty…” Jerry isn’t sure exactly what to say. The atmosphere feels charged somehow, but maybe that's the bourbon.

“What else?”

He notices Tegan’s hand creeping onto Elvis’ leg and starts to think the atmosphere isn’t his imagination after all.

“Well she’s easy to talk to, and uh…”

Seemingly getting a little impatient, Elvis cuts him off. “She’s covered in tattoos, Jer. All over her body.”

Jerry swallows, thickly. He can feel himself getting a little turned on. “Is she?”

Tegan can hear the want in his voice and she squeezes Elvis’ thigh.

“Look,” he replies, leaning over her to push the material of her skirt up, exposing half of her thigh and the tattoo there.

“Oh.” Jerry stares at the bare thigh next to him and tries to breathe normally. “That’s a beautiful tattoo, honey.”

Elvis clicks his tongue. “You don’t gotta talk ta her, Jer. Jus’ talk to me.”

Tegan feels her head spin and arousal pool between her legs. She remembers the night in the TV room when Elvis had talked possessively about her for the first time, and she wonders again what has happened to all her feminist ideals.

“I like her tattoos, EP,” Jerry suddenly feels a wave of confidence, probably brought on by all the bourbon. “Very sexy.”

“Mmm. You wanna touch her?”

“Fuck, yes.”

“Over her skirt,” Elvis says, firmly, pulling her skirt back down again.

Jerry puts a big warm hand on Tegan’s thigh and she feels her heart speed up. Goosebumps spring up all over her arms and the hairs there stand on end. Elvis leans in and kisses her neck.

“Give her a little kiss on the neck,” he instructs. “She smells damn good.”

He puts his hand on top of Tegan’s as she feels Jerry’s lips against her neck, pressing hot little kisses to it. She hears him moan, softly.

“E-Elvis,” she says, suddenly. Her heart is beating out of her chest, and she looks up at him with wide eyes. He recognises the look immediately.

“Hey, Jer. Why don’tcha go up to the kitchen an’ get us all some of that eggnog stuff?”

The sudden change of pace makes Jerry feel almost dizzy, but he gets up, subtly rearranging himself and telling them he’ll be back in five. Mentally, he decides it’ll be more like ten. He needs to calm himself down.

“You okay, honey?” Elvis asks, as soon as Jerry has gone.

“Hmmmm.”

“Hey. Talk to me.” He cups her face in his hand gently.

“I… I just um…” she lets out a long breath. “We didn’t talk about where uh… this is going.”

“Wherever ya want it to, baby.”

“Mmm. Okay.”

There’s a long silence, where they both look at one another and Elvis strokes the back of her hand with his thumb reassuringly. He keeps thinking she’s going to continue, but when she still doesn’t he decides he ought to tell her something.

“Okay. Ya know my world tour?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“Jerry came with me. I mean, Jerry came with me.”

Tegan’s eyes go wide and then she giggles. “What are you trying to tell me?”

“Uh… well honey it was a filthy year, I told ya that.”

“Yes.”

“And uh… I told ya about the girls… well uh, sometimes Jerry and I uh… took turns.”

“On the same girl?”

“On the same girl.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“So, like a threesome, or…?”

“Sometimes. Or sometimes more like… a train.”

“Doesn’t a train need more than two people?”

“Not if ya jus’ keep takin’ turns.”

“Did you… no, never mind. I don’t need to know this.” She covers her face with her hand and then giggles again.

“Ya like Jerry, honey?”

She looks up at him. “Not as much as you.”

“Well I should damn well hope not!”

She bites her lip.

“Ya want us to go find him and tell him ta meet us in the bedroom?”

She nods, dumbly. Then she grabs his arm. “I’ve not… I’ve never done anything like this.”

“I’ll look after ya, baby. Promise. Ya wanna stop, just say.”

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, then stands up. “C’mon. Let’s go and find Jerry and those pills.”

Tegan takes his hand and they walk back up the stairs in search of Jerry. Elvis tells her he’ll see her in the bedroom, and she watches him duck into the kitchen to talk to his friend. She sits on the bed, holding the pill bottle and trying to remember how to breathe. When she’s still alone after a couple of minutes she pads over to the door and opens it a crack.

“Elvis?” She calls, softly.

He appears at the bottom of the stairs almost immediately, looking up the stairs at her worshipfully.

“Tegan bach. We’ll be up in a sec.”

“Could you bring me a drink?”

“Of course, honey. What d’ya want?”

“Whatever’s kicking around. Bourbon?”

He nods and disappears. She lets out another shaky breath and goes back to the bedroom. She runs the events on the sofa through her head again and again, feeling turned on even as her hands shake whilst she fiddles with the fabric of her dress. She’s just starting to wonder if she can go through this when Elvis appears with the drink.

“Here ya go, cariad.”

She takes the glass gratefully, gulping the bourbon and relishing the way it burns down her throat.

“Diolch, blod.”

Elvis smiles at the pet name. He gently pushes her hair away from her face, admiring her. She’s about to ask where Jerry is when the light changes in the room, and she realises he’s standing in the doorway, blocking it slightly. Elvis catches her looking and turns around himself.

“Come on in, Jer.”

Jerry smiles and walks in with his own glass of liquor, having realised quite quickly that the eggnog was just an excuse to get him out of the room.

Elvis takes the pill bottle from Tegan and pops one, offering it to Jerry who holds his hand out for one too. She decides this isn’t the time to tell him to stop sharing his medication.

“Sit,” Elvis instructs, indicating the bed next to Tegan and then moving round to the other side himself. “We’ve got half an hour or so before they kick in.”

Tegan finds herself very pleasantly sandwiched between the two men, Elvis’ hand on her thigh and Jerry’s holding hers almost sweetly, once he’d confirmed with the other man that it was alright. Their thighs are both pressed up against hers and it’s making her heart race with the implications.

“Ya wanna see some more of her tattoos?” Elvis asks.

Jerry nods, and watches with interest as his friend pushes Tegan’s skirt up to just below her panties. “Can I?” He asks Elvis, his hand hovering just above her leg. Elvis nods.

Tegan can hear her breathing change as hands stroke up and down her thighs. She’s pretty certain her panties are going to be soaked through, whenever they get up to investigating them.

“Give her a kiss,” Elvis instructs, and Jerry lets her hand go to turn her face towards his. His eyes flick down to her lips and back to her eyes as if he’s asking her permission too, and she feels herself melt at the little gesture. Her nod is almost imperceptible, but it’s enough for Jerry, his lips meeting hers, tongue gently pressing for access to her mouth which she grants immediately.

Elvis pushes the strap of her dress off her shoulder along with her bra strap, exposing one of her breasts. She feels his tongue on her nipple and moves her hand to the back of his head, encouraging him to keep going, her fingers digging into his hair. The slightly scratchy beard hairs just add to the delightful sensations and she doesn’t want him to stop.

“Jerry,” he mumbles, against her skin.

The other man pulls away from the kiss, reluctantly, and looks over. Without stopping what he’s doing, Elvis pulls the other straps down so now both of her breasts are accessible, nodding at the one nearest his friend. Jerry groans softly. Nipple piercings.

“You didn’t tell me her nipples were pierced,” Jerry remarks, before diving down to investigate for himself with his mouth and then his fingers.

Elvis smiles against her skin. “Good surprise,” he replies.

“Any more surprises?” Jerry’s fingers are manipulating her nipple as he speaks, his big hand massaging her breast.

Elvis moves his mouth off her nipple and starts to kiss up her neck, settling just behind her ear for a moment as he thinks.

“Tight little puss’.”

Jerry clears his throat and she sees he’s blushing.

“Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Tegan is surprised to be consulted, but she nods immediately. “Yes, um…”

“Ya can call me it if ya want. Jerry’s heard worse.”

“Yes, Daddy.” She bites her lip and now she’s blushing too. It seems like Elvis is the only one of the three of them not embarrassed by her pussy right now.

“Good girl. Let’s get this dress off.”

She shifts so that he can get his hand behind her to unzip her dress and then lets him pull it over her head. His practiced fingers snap her bra open and off too, so she’s just sitting in her predictably soaked panties.

“Looks like a wet pussy, too,” Jerry remarks, blushing an even deeper shade of red.

Elvis grins wickedly, both at Jerry’s statement and its obvious truthfulness, his hand making its way between her legs to check just how wet.

“Absolutely soakin’.” He shakes his head and clicks his tongue. “Damn. She is perfect, ain’t she?”

Tegan feels herself going the same colour as Jerry, the combination of the compliment and the fact that it’s being spoken as if she isn’t there making her hot in more ways than one.

“She really is, E.”

Jerry’s eyes crawl over her body, taking in every inch of her. He’s never seen a woman with so many tattoos, but he thinks there’s something very sexy about the way they twist and turn around her body, emphasising her curves. He’s seen one or two piercings in his time, and he’s always enjoyed playing with them. There were plenty of pierced girls on Elvis’ world tour. He remembers the one with her nipples done that Elvis had found on that tour and brought around the US with him, she had been a lot of fun.

He starts to kiss the phoenix on her ribs, following the twists and turns of the feathers, exploring her body with his mouth. She moans as she feels Elvis start the same thing on the other side of her body, kissing from her toes to her hip bone. They keep going until both of them start to feel their dicks getting properly hard and then Elvis looks over at the other man.

“Ya wanna fuck her?”

Jerry is jolted from the very enjoyable sensations by Elvis’ question. Of course he does.

“Yes please.”

Elvis grins, wolfishly. “Think ya should go down on her first. Warm ‘er up a bit.” He turns to Tegan. “Lie down, honey.”

She shuffles down onto her back dutifully, moving her hips to help Jerry peel her panties off. He turns them around, having caught a glimpse of something glittery on the back. Laughing when he sees it’s ELVIS in silvery script.

“Ha! Nice one, EP.”

Throwing the panties off the bed, he settles between her legs and contemplates her pussy for a moment. It’s pretty and glistening with arousal and he doesn’t want to wait much longer to taste it. He pushes her legs until her feet come off the bed, licking a stripe up her and enjoying hearing her response. Elvis enjoys it too, smiling down at her as she closes her eyes and lets her arms flop above her head. He palms himself through his pants as he watches the scene unfold, Tegan moaning as Jerry buries his face in her pussy.

Jerry concentrates on her clit as he slides one of his fingers inside, working her open gradually. She pants as she feels her pleasure growing, letting out a little moan when a second finger goes in, and then a third. It takes a while for him to get her relaxed enough to take them easily, but when he does he changes the angle slightly and then she’s really moaning.

“Oh! Oh! I’m so close!”

Elvis lies down beside her, his hand rubbing one of her nipples as he kisses her neck.

“C’mon, baby. Cum for Daddy.”

Something about both of them touching her at once tips Tegan over the edge, and her orgasm rips through her as her back arches and her hands ball into fists.

“Fuck.”

Jerry licks her through it until she starts to thrash her legs a little and he pulls back, his chin glistening.

“Good girl,” Elvis tells her, before looking over at his friend with a grin. “Tastes good, don’t she?”

“Delicious,” Jerry replies, wiping his face on his sleeve.

The older man sits up and starts to pull his clothes off, giving Jerry a quick look that suggests he should do the same. Once he’s naked he lies back down and wraps himself around Tegan. Their legs tangle together and he kisses her deeply, hands in her hair and pressed against her back. Jerry finishes pulling his clothes off and looks at the two of them with a combination of admiration and lust. It’s like they’re communicating without having to talk, and he misses being able to do that with someone. But it’s also a bit like watching a porno, so he starts slowly stroking himself. Eating Tegan out had turned him on in a way he hasn’t been turned on for a while now, and his dick is aching.

Elvis moves to kiss just below Tegan’s ear, then he murmurs, “you clean, honey?”

She knows exactly what that means. He’d asked her that question before the two times they’d had anal sex on holiday. “Yeah,” she murmurs back.

“Good.”

They go back to kissing for a bit, and then his mouth moves to her ear again. “You okay?”

“Mmm. Yes.”

“Good.”

He pulls back and his eyes flick over her face, quickly. She’s still flushed after her orgasm, and he can see that she’s been nibbling on her lower lip too. He’s pretty convinced she’s telling him the truth but he still wants to take this slowly. He sits up again and looks over at Jerry, who manages to move his hand away from his dick just in time.

“Lie down, Jer. Let her get on top of you.”

Jerry does as he’s told, and Tegan straddles him as Elvis holds her hips.

“Be gentle with her, now.”

Jerry nods, stroking himself again as Tegan starts to gradually sink down on him, with Elvis’ help. He groans at the feeling of her all around him, squeezing him tightly. She moans a little too, but she’s grateful that although he has length he’s a little slimmer than Elvis so it goes in fairly easily. Sitting down on him fully, she looks into his dark brown eyes.

“Shit,” he mutters, trying to remember the last time his dick was wrapped up so nicely in a pussy like this.

She looks briefly back at Elvis for permission and he nods, so she leans forwards, lying on top of Jerry with her face less than an inch from his. His hand cups her face and his fingers knot into her hair as he pulls her close enough to kiss her. Elvis is still holding her hips, and he uses this opportunity to start moving them for her, back and forth so she slides up and down on the other man’s dick. Jerry moans into her mouth. Elvis sighs with satisfaction, his arousal growing at the sight in front of him. They keep moving like this for a while, at Elvis’ direction, and then he reaches into the bedside cabinet drawer, letting her carry on moving of her own accord.

She hears the lid of the lube bottle click and stops moving. Not noticing the noise, Jerry’s hands move to her hips now and start to move her on him instead. Coating his finger in lube, Elvis moves back to where he was and then gently presses it against her entrance. He bites his lip as he rubs her asshole firmly. She feels like her brain is short-circuiting, and it’s even worse when the finger slips inside and she can feel it and Jerry’s dick at the same time.

“Ohhh fuck,” she moans.

Jerry can’t see what’s happening from the angle he’s looking, but he sees the lube bottle on the bed and has a fairly good idea. Elvis starts to move his finger in and out at the same pace as he strokes his own dick, then when he feels her relax he slips in another. He’s starting to think this is the hottest fucking thing he’s ever done, at the age of 62, and he thanks God for whoever invented those amazing pills.

When he removes his fingers, Tegan knows what’s coming. They hadn’t directly talked about it, but they’d sort of skirted the issue a couple of times. She’s pretty confident he knows she has fantasised about this and that there’s no way she’d say no, but it’s still pretty intense when Elvis tells them both to stay still and she feels him start to push his way inside her. Although she’s used to him, she’s not used to having another dick in her pussy too and the feeling threatens to overwhelm her.

“How’re ya doin’, baby?” Elvis asks when he finally bottoms out, his voice husky with lust.

“This is fucking intense!” She squeaks, and then finds herself giggling.

“Fuck me you’re not wrong, honey,” Jerry replies.

Elvis’ thumbs massage her hip bones gently.

“Yeah, my dick is intensely near Jerry’s right now.”

“I mean, this was your idea, EP.”

All three of them giggle together and the atmosphere in the room changes.

“Honey, I’m gonna move. Jer, you stay still. Think we might haveta do this one at a time.”

“Okay.”

Tegan tries hard to keep breathing as Elvis starts to slowly move in and out of her, gentle, long strokes. He moans at the feeling, she’s even tighter than she had been with just him and he knows he won’t last long. Holding on to her hips, he moves a little faster, feeling his release building at the base of his dick.

“Fuck. Baby I’m gonna cum,” he breathes, and then he does, long and hard and a little louder than he was anticipating.

Tegan moans too at the feeling of him deep inside her, and then again as he pulls out. She closes her eyes, feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes with the intensity of all the sensations.

“Can I… uh…?” Jerry gestures at Elvis and the other man nods, waves of pleasure still crashing over him as he watches his girlfriend and best friend rearrange so that Jerry is on top.

Jerry wastes no time getting what he wants now he has permission, Tegan’s thighs in his grasp as he pounds her hard and fast. Enjoying watching her breasts bounce with the brutal rhythm he’s setting, listening to her increasingly loud moans.

“I’m close,” Jerry moans, thinking he almost certainly needs permission to cum inside Elvis’ girlfriend.

“Tell him where you want it, baby.”

“Ugh. Don’t care.”

Tegan is teetering on the edge of another orgasm and she really doesn’t want Jerry to pull out any time soon, but she also can’t formulate the words to say that. And then she doesn’t have to, because it becomes quite obvious to everyone in the room what’s happening, as she arches her back again and almost squeals.

“Fuck, fuck fuck.”

Jerry moans loudly, feeling her walls squeeze him into oblivion, cumming inside her as his orgasm washes over him like a tsunami.

“Holy shit.”

The three of them lay where they each collapse on the bed for a while, trying to get their breaths back as they float around on their highs. After a while they rearrange so they all have their heads on the pillows, Elvis’ hand on one of Tegan’s breasts whilst Jerry’s rests on her belly.

“I should uh… leave you two to it,” Jerry says, quietly, as he watches Elvis and Tegan kiss languorously.

Tegan moves her head quickly. “Please stay.”

He blinks, almost forgetting for a moment that she was a person with preferences. “Oh… uh… I dunno.”

She turns to look at him properly. “Don’t get me wrong, you can’t sleep in this bed too, I have enough trouble with him,” she gestures behind her with her thumb. “But I feel really close to you after that, and I want you to stay for a while and cuddle.”

“Well I guess I can’t refuse a pretty girl asking me for a cuddle.”

“Ya definitely cannot, Jer,” Elvis chips in.

“And um… you’re staying for the weekend, right?”

He nods. “If you want me.”

Tegan giggles. “Oh. I definitely want you.”

“Hey!” Elvis snaps, a hint of jealousy in his voice for the first time that evening.

Tegan rolls back over towards him. “Oh, ‘raur. I want you too. Nothing to be jealous of.”

He narrows his eyes at her a little and she kisses him.

“‘M still yours,” she murmurs against his lips.

“Yes, y’are.”

He pushes her gently but firmly onto her back and then looks over her, at Jerry. “Can ya believe she thought I’d find someone better?”

“She said that?”

“She did.”

“How could you find someone better than this?” Jerry asks, his hand trailing down her body.

Tegan finds herself blushing again. “Stop it, you two.”

“Ignore that, Jer. This pretty little doll is supposed ta be stayin’ quiet whilst we talk about her.”

She buries her head in Elvis’ chest hearing those words, and Jerry wraps himself around her, enjoying the feeling of her skin against his. Elvis takes her hand in his and uses his other hand to stroke her thigh.

“Did ya like her pussy, Jer?”

“I loved it, E. Nice and tight.” His hand moves between her legs and holds her there. She squeezes her eyes shut more tightly.

“Not as tight as her pretty little asshole, but that’s jus’ fer me.”

Tegan squeaks.

Elvis chuckles, and she can hear the low rumble of it in his chest. “Jus’ tryin’ ta make ya understand the effect yer havin’ on us, honey.”

“Okay, okay. I get it.”

Jerry presses a kiss to her shoulder. “You’ve really given me a happy Christmas, Tegan. You should know that… I’ve been pretty depressed for a while now and this is the most fun I’ve had for ages.”

“Ya should thank me, Jer, not her.”

Tegan shifts, poking Elvis in the side and making him giggle ticklishly. “Stop that now! That’s enough!”

He chuckles again and rolls towards her. “You told her down, Jer. I’ll tickle her.”

***

Epilogue

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ordinaryschmuck · 2 days ago

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You know what I'm impressed by? 3D animation looking like it's 2D. And I don't mean 3D animation giving cell-shading like you'd see with Borderlands, TellTale games, and Marvel Studio's What If...? I mean stuff like this:

Taking the fluid, snappy, and often overly expressive shots you'd see in a 2D, hand-drawn cartoon, but giving it a 3D makeover.

This is a tactic I feel like got popularized by the Hotel Transyvania series. Genndy Tartakovsky, the goat of animation, directed the first movie like he would for his 2D works, having motion and models that were often stiff and slow for the moments they needed to be, but can also look snappy and expressive like any hand drawn cartoon would to make the scene more comedic.

Now, that's not to say there haven't been attempts in the past. Hell, even Laika has tried to do the same thing in stop-motion:

But it's with Hotel Transylvania that I feel like this tactic really started taking steam, being that thing that pushes the envelope of animation just a bit farther. It's not a tactic that's as realistic or as heavily detailed as your other favorite animated films, but it's still impressive in its own right. Because, you see, it's not as simple as making a character that should be 2D and just giving them a 3D model. Just look what happens when animators put Timmy Turner into the world of Jimmy Neutron or making the 80s Ninja Turtles team up with the 2012 ones:

It creates this weird uncanny effect looking at something that was MEANT to be hand-drawn and giving it that third dimension it was never intended to have. Granted, this is all to have the characters fit in with another show's art style, but you can tell that it doesn't work because it's not supposed to.

That's why when a CGI animated project tries to look 2D, they keep the idea that it has to look good, regardless if it was hand-drawn or CGI. To accomplish that requires both changing and altering the models the right way and knowing where the camera is facing. Take this one shot from The Amazing Digital Circus:

Here's what it looks like from the side:

From behind:

And from the other side:

Shout out to animator Protj for giving this neat behind the scenes detail. Check out their whole showreel of Episode Three for yourself, by the way.

And yeah, this shows why this type of animation style is often difficult to pull off. Anyone could have just DRAWN a shot like that, but to shift the model in such a way where it mimics the style is impressive all on its own. It's so much more hard work, all done for no reason at all aside from style points. They could have done this in 2D and it would have been just as fine, but sticking to it being CGI, it shows an extra level of dedication to the craft that I can't help but applaud over. I'm impressed with looking as real as possible, but there something so much more impressive about a CGI show or movie looking as cartoonish as possible.

#hotel transylvania #fairly oddparents a new wish #spider man into the spider verse #the amazing digital circus #storks movie #coraline #paranorman #animation appreciation

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midnight-mourning · 10 hours ago

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Liar, Liar (Goose Down Coat on Fire)

Holiday Spirit! au Chapter 1

hehehehehe, HEHEHEHEHE

ahem. here u go, first chapter after much waiting, please enjoy :D

reminder for those that don't know, this is an au for my fic, confused spirit but you don't have to have read it to follow along. Additionally, day 7 of my December requests serves as the prologue for this ^_^

Word Count: 5762

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There's a clattering sound behind you, making you jump ever so slightly. It's followed by a curse or two and a 'sorry!'. You frown, focusing back in on the gear work on the workbench in front of you. You have to be careful with this, these are delicate after all. One wrong move and you'll lose several hours’ worth of work.

You adjust the tabletop magnifying glass, and tighten your grip on your tweezers. You're about to add the last thin gear into place—

Another clatter. "Sorry!"

You let out a noise of frustration. "That better not be important or it's coming out of your pay, Petey."

"Of course not, just the cogs we finished manufacturing this morning." Jesse quips, hammering something once or twice. "Not important at all."

"It's not my damn fault they keep slipping! These tongs suck."

Your eye twitches, turning slightly to look back at him. "Then use the other tongs, it's that simple."

"That'd be too easy." Savannah tsks.

You shake your head, waving your free hand. "I don't have time for this, Ms. Faun's coming by in thirty for her clock and it's not finished yet." You look up to your apprentice, who's sitting to your right, watching you work intently. "Liv, would you mind helping Petey find the other tongs since he's so incapable of doing so?"

She nods, getting up to go over and help.

"Hey! I'm the one making sure these things spend exactly 10 minutes in the fire."

Jesse scoffs. "Yeah, that's your job. Which, it wouldn't be if you'd hadn't messed up the clockwork with your grubby hands."

They start to bicker and you do your best to tune it out, focusing back on your work. This wasn't your typical gig—again, it was Pete's—but you enjoyed the smaller mechanism work every now and then. It also helped keep food on the table.

Your crew was of decent size for the operation you had here, being the only smithy and mechanic shop in your village. It needed to be, considering that you were the only one around for miles and miles throughout the mountains. You were fortunate enough to be able to pull business from other nearby villages as well.

But, as the arguing—and laughter—grows in volume behind you, sometimes you wonder if it's worth it to do something you love so much. Yes, they were your friends. But damn, if they didn't get on your nerves just like siblings sometimes.

Speaking of, Lisa should be up soon. You should get breakfast ready.

After a brief moment of clarity to finally finish the missing component of the clock, you set it aside, scribbling a note to Ms. Frau and sitting back with a stretch. You remove your goggles, shoving them up into your hair as you stand.

You nod to Savannah, who's busy mixing metals as you head to the back door of the shop, into your kitchen and home proper.

It's quiet back here, only small bits of noise coming through from the forge. Outside you can hear town starting to come to life, waking up as the day begins. You preferred to start earlier and end later so you had more time for your siblings. Additionally, having the shop open earlier meant you could prepare orders well ahead of time before having to worry about someone coming to pick them up.

You rub your hands together, going over to the stove and checking the fire inside, tossing a log or two on both for heat and cooking purposes.

As you're filling the kettle for the second time that morning, you hear feet hit the floor upstairs. A few minutes later, a face appears in the doorway, rubbing its bleary eyes.

"Good morning." You say, walking over to the ice box. "You want bacon and eggs?"

A yawn. "Yeah."

"Go put boots on and check on Getrude then. She's probably hungry."

Lisa nods, shuffling over to the door and putting on boots, you hear the door close a moment later.

While cooking breakfast, Lisa sits in a chair beside you, legs swinging as she watches you.

"Those guards were super cool the other day. Do you think we'll see them again?"

You pause a moment, then shake your head. "Probably not up close, they've got duties to attend to and all that. But we might see them around."

"Oh. Okay." Lisa sighs. "But they were soooo fun. Mr. Moon gave us so many rides! And Mr. Sun is so silly."

You chuckle. You'd been surprised to find how good the two had been with your sister and Jack, but you'd been grateful for it. And amused as well, considering their initial hostility in your first encounter. "Yeah, I bet."

You're eating breakfast, Gabe in your lap now that he's awake, when you hear a commotion coming from the shop.

Suddenly, your forge tender, Tyler, bursts through the door. Covered in ash and soot, he points a gloved hand behind him, out of breath. "They uh, need you in the main shop, broski."

You stand up, adjusting Gabe to sit on your hip. "What's wrong?"

"Better you see for yourself. That uh, purple rabbit's here, what's his name?"

Your brow furrows, but you make your way over to the door. "What would Bon need this early?"

Tyler shrugs.

You walk back into your shop, your brother gnawing on part of an apple, where you see one of your neighbors, Bon, standing near the entrance. He locks on to you when you enter, concerned look in his eyes.

"Everything okay Bon?" You ask as you make it over to him, nodding to Jesse and Pete that it's fine and they don't need to hold him back any longer. They nod in turn, going back to work.

"There you are, sorry to be bugging you. And for making a scene." He winces, then shakes his head. "Listen, I've been seeing animatronics coming and going from here like crazy the past few days. What's going on?"

You cringe yourself. "It's a bit of a story, one that I'm not really too sure on myself. How long you got?"

Since the beginning of the festival a few days ago, you'd had a rather strange increase in clients. Specifically of the mechanical kind. Granted, you were used to taking care of animatronics, several lived in your village and the throughout kingdom as a whole. But this number of different clients every, single, day, was unheard of.

Sure, it could be that because they were here on guard duty, many had decided to get a tune up or the likes and since your shop was the only option close by, took advantage of that. But the work you'd been doing lately wasn't routine maintenance. It was repairs.

Lots, and lots, of repairs.

Not minor ones, either. You were replacing entire body parts in some cases. All of them guards, all of them coming from the castle. You had at least six or seven cases a day.

It didn't make any sense. You doubted it was caused by the humans around. There was no ill will between man and machine in this day and age. So they had to be happening some other way. You'd tried asking directly, but never got a response on the matter. Given that most of your clients were the wide-eyed G.U.A.R.D. bots, this made sense. You honestly weren't sure if they were able to say much more than basic conversation topics.

But the others you'd had, like the pink and white bear bot, or the fox, they just, avoided the topic. Skirting around it with a laugh or a quick quip.

It made you uneasy to put it plainly. You couldn't wrap your head around it. It wasn't exactly a bad thing for you, it meant business was booming. Like the equivalent of a gold rush for you and your crew, holiday bonuses and the likes.

But still, the idea that something more was going on was nagging at you, and you couldn't help the gnawing thought at the back of your mind that something really wrong was happening.

You explain only part of this to Bon, not wanting to sound like a loon because of some hay brained passing suspicion. Maybe things will calm down today, and it'll just have been a weird fluke of coincidences.

When you're finished, Bon nods his head thoughtfully.

"Just like I thought." He shakes his head, looking to you. "Thank you, I suppose the only thing left to say is congratulations on the business."

You laugh, slightly awkward. "Yeah, thanks."

Bon heads to leave, then stops, turning to you. "And hey, out of curiosity. There hasn't been any blue rabbits that've come through right? Taller than me, maybe with an earring?"

"There was one blue rabbit." You say, thinking back, "But he was much smaller than you. Bright red cheeks. Why do you ask?"

Bon waves his hand. "No reason. I've seen him around, is all. Was curious. Have a good one!"

"You too!" You call after him, then frown.

Surely it's just a coincidence that Bon's noticed the strangeness of this, right? You shake your head. No use worrying over something that's quite literally benefitting you. You let it go, and after a brief chat with your crew, head to go finish breakfast and send Lisa off to school.

Sure enough, you have several more animatronics come in before lunch, and many more that come in after. It's a busy day once more, and you have to shoo away that feeling in your gut by rattling your coin pouch several times as you walk through town later on in the day.

Everything is bustling because of the festival, people you know and you don't passing you by as you walk along. You'd left Jesse in charge to finish out the day, deciding you needed to run some errands today.

With the influx of money coming in, you'd decided you'd treat your siblings to some nicer meals for a least a few nights to celebrate. You also needed to get Lisa a new coat, maybe check in on your supplies you'd ordered from Lizzy because of all your new clients and there was also—

Your brother's delighted giggling interrupts your train of thoughts. Assuming some passerby must have entertained him, you keep moving forward. Another loud giggle and now your confused.

You turn slightly to try and spy who or what behind you is exciting him, not seeing able to directly notice anyone. You shrug, giving up and about to step forward when.

You halt, a red and blue torso blocking your view. A white and blue visage comes into your view.

"Hello there, Andromeda."

You blink. "Oh, hello again, Moon. Fancy seeing you again."

"The same to you." He nods, then stands straight. "Are you enjoying the festival?"

You scoff, raising this paper in your hand with your to do list. "Hardly. I have things to do. Unlike the tourists, my job doesn't stop for the holidays."

"What a pity, and it's the nicest weather we've had so far."

You start walking again, Moon falling in step beside you. "No kidding. But, that's life. Maybe I'll take Lisa to one of the plays later, as a treat."

"I think that would be an excellent idea, personally." Out of the corner of your eye you catch him wiggling his finger at Gabriel, who giggles and claps his hands.

You review your list, deciding to tackle the market first and foremost. "And what about you? What are you up to today?"

"Protecting civilians of course. What does it look like?" He teases.

You snort. "Like you're chatting with civilians. No offense."

"None taken. I suppose."

The crowd thins only slightly upon entrance into the market. Nobles and the likes have no need to visit where the commoner's shop for food and the likes, unless they wished to gawk, that is. Moon sticks with you, chatting as you go stall to stall gathering groceries. Even offering to carry things for you, which, you're not one to turn down a bit of free help.

You're examining some fresh fish when a thought occurs to you to finally ask. "Where's that partner of yours? The sunny one."

Moon pauses for a moment, then he chuckles, grin widening slightly. "Busy."

"Hm. Fair enough."

After the market, Moon continues to stick with you, playing the role of your helper quite well.

You manage to knock out most of your list an hour quicker than you expected. So, you decide to take a break, heading to the bakery to grab a snack.

You're sitting out at one of the tables, watching as across the square there's a bit of dancing and such taking place. Gabe's sitting on the table, nibbling on a bit of cookie you'd allowed him.

It really is a nice day, the Sun is warm against the cold air. The music from across the square flits all around you, the chattering of people mixing in between.

You take a bite of your scone. "Could I ask you a bit of a weird question?"

"Weird how?" Moon asks, but his tone is cheeky.

You shake your head. "I guess forward is the better word. But anyway, there's been a bit of an increase in customers in my shop the past few days."

"Remind me what it is you do?" He lifts his hand to twiddle his fingers above Gabe's head, chin resting in his other hand.

"Smithy, technician, tinkerer, what have you,"—you chomp down again—"Only one around, and that's been made very clear to me. Everyday I've had several animatronics come in, all banged up and bruised. Well, not bruised but you get the point. And I can't make hide nor hair of it."

You hear a click or two to your left. "And you think I might know?"

"Well, I assumed so, I don't know all the royal guard castle stuff works." You wave your hand. "Forgive me, I was just curious I guess."

No response. You glance over for a moment. Moon's eyes are narrowed, grin seeming, strained. But he's not looking at you, not seeming to be looking at anything in particular at all.

Gabriel sneezes, and that seems to pull him out of it. You see the small, white pupils he sometimes has flick to you for a moment.

"If I were you, I wouldn't worry so much about things like that."

You nod, smiling once. "Yeah, you're right."

On the inside though? You're so, incredibly, suspicious. You know better than to let that show, however. While you've been cordial all day, you two don't know each other beyond the base conversations you've shared.

And you know all too well the costs of trusting a stranger.

"Odd choice of a necklace charm." Moon interrupts your thoughts.

You realize that you've been fiddling with it. "Huh? Oh, yeah." You tuck it back into your shirt. "Gift from a friend."

He nods, sitting back. "Must have been a good one."

"Something like that."

Despite your best efforts—and the extra set of hands—you still managed to forget a few things on your list. Forcing you to once again face the festival crowds the next day.

Things aren't any slower than before, but by now your crew has fallen into the routine to be able to manage without you for a few hours. They've also been trying to force you to go more, somehow knowing that you'd be hunkered down doing repairs until your hands hurt otherwise. Which, you'd already done at least three days in a row now.

So, you'll take the break, and use it as an opportunity to finish your list and maybe plan out some gifts for the upcoming holiday.

It's a bit colder today, not nearly as sunny out. Still just as busy though. It's a bit harder to navigate, but you manage.

For the most part.

While walking through the shopping district, someone bumps into you. Not wanting to cause a scene, you apologize.

The person huffs, and looking over you can tell by their dress they're upper class types. The woman snaps open her fan, eyes clearing showing her disdain. "How rude."

"You should watch where you're going." The man, you're guessing her husband, adds.

You put your hands up. "Apologies. Won't happen again."

"Can't even be bothered to give a proper apology?" The man asks, stepping forward. Causing you to step back. People are starting to watch now. Of course, the one time you come to the nicer part of town and you manage to make a scene. It wasn't even your fault! She bumped into you.

You keep your voice even to hide your irritation, and minor fear. "Again, I apologize. I really didn't mean anything by it."

"Sure you didn't,"—he scoffs, pointing a finger at you and again stepping closer—"You should consider it fortunate that—"

He doesn't get to finish, a large shadow obstructing your view of him. Taking a moment to adjust your vision, you see the back of a red coat, and glancing upwards, find the back of a seven-rayed head.

Sun glances briefly back at you a moment before focusing on the man in front of him.

"What seems to be the trouble here?" He asks.

The man tsks. "They bumped into my lovely wife and couldn't even muster up an apology! The nerve of these commoners, I swear." He looks around Sun and points to you. "I want them fined at minimum, and a night in the jail unless they can give us a reason to forgive them."

"Is that so?" Sun turns to look at you, you duck your head, face burning.

This was ridiculous. You'd heard stories of some stuck up nobles out there, and you knew better than to believe they were all like this, but still. You just hope this will be quick, and that the fine is a small one.

There's a click or two above you. "Well, from what I saw, sir, your wife bumped into them."

You freeze, eyes wide as you look up to the bot, who's now staring down the man with a strained smile.

"So, therefore, she should be the one apologizing,"—Sun suddenly bends down to be the same height as the couple, and they both jump back slightly. Sun tilts his head with a click—"Don't you think?"

The man blusters for a moment. "I, well I, that—" He shakes his head, adjusting his coat, angry, but relenting. "I suppose so."

Sun claps his hands, standing upright. "Very good then! Well, ma'am?" He turns his attention to her.

You peek out a bit further from behind Sun, unable to smother the smirk on your lips. She seems just flustered and defeated as her husband.

She doesn't look you in the eye as she mumbles out—"My apologies."

"Is that satisfactory for you?"

Your realize Sun's talking to you. You nod, not wanting to drag this out any further, you're still in shock that it's happening this way and that you're not being carted off the jail. "Yes, thank you for apologizing."

After another hushed exchange, the couple storm off, and you relax finally as the street returns to normal.

You notice you still have a shadow on you. Glancing up, you see Sun staring down at you.

"Thank you. Very much so." You start to walk off then. "I won't keep you, have a good day—woah!"

You're stopped by a firm hand on your shoulder. You trace it up to the sunny guard's narrowed gaze.

"It was only by chance I was nearby. That could have gone very differently for you, Icarus." You hear a few sharp clicks emit from him.

You stare at each other a moment before you relax, rolling your eyes with a huff. "Yeah, I know. And again, I'm grateful for the help, but I have things to do. So let go or tag along for the ride. Keep in mind though, I'm only strong enough to carry Gabe."

"Very well then,"—his hand shifts from your shoulder to your arm interlocking with yours—"Let's get to it."

You glance at the hold a moment, then scoff. "Alright. Fair warning, I will make you carry stuff."

The two of you start to travel down the street, your first stop is the coat shop.

"I'll consider it."

"Hah! Witty aren't you?" You ask.

Sun doesn't answer, eyes crinkling as he smile widens a tinge.

Much like how Moon accompanied you yesterday, Sun does the same. Though, he has a bit more direct commentary on your shopping choices. Specifically critique. He seems to love to critique you.

It wears you down quickly, and by the end of the trip you've thrown all common courtesy to the wind and bicker with him like you would anyone else you know.

"I still believe you'd be better off purchasing something with goose down instead."

You scoff as you exit the shop, bell clinking above you. "And for the last time, I've told you that Lisa would destroy a goose down coat in a matter of hours. It'd be wasted on her." You shove the brown parcel into his arms. "Sheep's wool is just fine."

"Perhaps you should teach her to take better care of her things." He takes the package, adding it to the others in his hold.

You laugh. "You ever try to tell an eight year old what to do? They're not great listeners." You check the time, seeing that it's time to go pick her up from school. "Speaking of, I need to go grab her. Let's run this back home and then you're free to get out of my hair."

"Wouldn't it be easier on you to just retrieve her directly?" He asks.

"Yeah, but it'd be more work on you. And I figured you'd be tired of me by now." You shrug. "Besides, don't you have a job to do?"

Sun looks down to you, rays flicking back and forth. Then he tsks. "Tell me which way the school is before I start walking a random direction."

"I—okay. This way."

He speaks again after a moment. "Your errands today weren't dissimilar to my patrol route, and after your little mishap earlier, I'd rather keep an eye on you myself."

"Make sure I'm not causing any trouble for the rich folk?" You simper.

Sun laughs, it's surprisingly light. "On the contrary, I believe they'd cause you trouble."

"Oh."

"Though, yes, you'd probably somehow make it worse." He finishes.

Your eyes narrow. "You know, I think I don't really like you."

"The feeling's mutual, Bright Eyes."

Lisa's waiting for you on the steps when you arrive, chatting away with a few of her friends. When she sees you she beams, waving. When she sees Sun her eyes light up, rushing over to tackle him with a hug.

"Mr. Sun! What are you doing here?" She looks up to him. "They said I'd never ever see you again!"

You huff. "No, I said you probably wouldn't—"

"Well, they were surely mistaken then, weren't they?" Sun shifts all the items he's carrying to one hand, reaching down to ruffle Lisa's hair.

She giggles. "Yeah, they're such a liar!"

"I did not lie!"

Sun walks you back to your home, and you thank him again for his help.

Color you surprised—and suspicious—when over the next week or so either one or both of the celestial guards decide to accompany you on your walks to and from getting Lisa from school. Entertaining her or Gabriel while chatting idly with you.

They also always seem to find you while you're out and about, which had been more frequent with all the repairs you'd been doing. You've gotten to the point where you've had to completely restock some days. You've even brought Tyler out from the back to help in the main shop, you're that desperate.

Regardless of that, you can't help the sense of concern that's eating away at you. This doesn't make sense. What could be causing this amount of damage to these animatronics? Why won't they tell you what's happening to them? What exactly is going on up in that castle that no one seems to be noticing besides you?

As for Sun and Moon, you can't get a read on them either. You're not stupid, there's a reason they're essentially tailing you. And you know they're not foolish either. The three of you are just skirting around the massive elephant in the room.

But, you can't deny, besides that, you've enjoyed the companionship as of late. Besides your crew you weren't much for talking to people. It was, unfortunately, undeniably good for you that they wouldn't leave you be.

To a point, that is.

You're mulling all this over again as the parade goes on in front of you. Abby's standing to your right with her brother, Lisa's in front of you. While trying to keep a calm demeanor, you know deep down you're both concerned about letting either child out of your sight. And not just because of what happened a little over a week ago.

A child went missing last night.

The butcher from down the road's daughter, his wife was going up and down the street sobbing. You were part of one of the search parties that went looking for her, not even a sign of her turning up in or out of town. The dogs weren't able to catch her scent. Just laid down on the ground, paws over their whining snouts.

It sent a shock through the community, especially you. This was your biggest fear, all but confirmed. But, you kept that to yourself, the last thing that was needed was more panic.

You yawn, you'd searched for hours, well into the night, and were exhausted because of it. Your grip on Lisa's shoulder tightens. Still, if that had been her—you shake her head. You'd do anything to find her, that's for sure.

At the very least, your back is glad that you decided to leave Gabe at home today. Savannah's sister happened to be around and offered to sit for you, meaning you could just focus on your sister today. Which, given her troublemaker attitude, was a good thing.

The precession grows more elaborate and the crowd's volume increases. It shifts from simple dancers and musicians to elaborate contortionists and stilt walkers. You spy a few animatronics within the mix, in particular a white and pink fox and a ballerina-like bot that catch your eye.

It's not until the marching soldiers however that you really pay attention however. As while you do spy several familiar machines among the rows—including Sun & Moon—from their time in your shop, it's one of the human guards that makes you perk up.

And unfortunately, so does Lisa.

"Hey! That's Miss Bri!" She exclaims, jumping up and down.

You can't stop the grin that splits your face. "You're right, Lis. It is her."

"Miss Bri! Miss Bri it's me!" Your sister shouts, arm waving wildly.

People around you start shooting looks and you mumble a few 'sorries' in response. You try shushing your sister. "Quiet down, Lisa. We'll try to talk to her after the parade. Look, there's the royal family." You point to the carriage they're riding in, but Lisa could care less.

She blows a raspberry. "Who cares about some old king and his kids. I wanna see Miss Bri!"

You cringe at the offended gasps around you.

"Teach that girl some respect." Someone comments beside you.

You turn half-shrugging and trying not to get overwhelmed. "She's eight, can yah really blame her?"

Taking your hands off Lisa for even a second was a mistake. Everything happens all at once.

There's a shot that rings out in the back of the precession where the king is, causing a disruption in the crowd and people to scream. In the commotion, Lisa takes her chance to break out of your grip, running over to where Bri is in the road.

You race after her, getting there just in time to see your friend's surprised face as she scoops Lisa up in her arms.

"Little Lady, I don't think you're supposed to be here." Bri states, looking down at your sister.

Lisa wraps her arms tight around the guard, burying her head against her chest. "I didn't I'd ever see you again! You went away! I hated it." You can just barely make out a sniffle from her.

Bri softens. "Hey, it's alright. I told you I'd come visit sometime, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm visiting now. So, let's cheer up a bit, alright?" Bri pulls back, reaching up to take off her hat and setting it on your sisters head. "Here, you can wear this for me, yeah?"

Lisa sniffs again, cheering up. "Okay."

Bri smiles, then looks up to you. "Hell of an entrance, L/N."

"Same to you, Perry." You grin, and hug her tight.

She claps you on the back hard, shaking your shoulder when you pull away. "It's really great to see you, but I think we both know this isn't the time for greetings."

"Yeah, I know." You both turn to the now calming chaos by the king's carriage.

She nods to it. "Walk over with me?"

"Sure."

She adjusts Lisa, who still clings to her, keeping her voice low. "If I'm right about what's going on, I'll need you. Have I got you?"

"Long as you got me." You nod, and she returns it.

Upon arrival, you can see a small crowd of guards standing around something on the ground by the open-air carriage. You pay no mind to the royal family, you think you'd start freaking out if you did, and instead follow Bri into the crowd's center.

Along the way, you catch Moon's gaze among the group, who seems surprised to see you. You just offer him a wave and a smile. When you see Sun, you stick your tongue out at him. You think if he could he'd return the favor.

Laying in the snow, flailing about, is an animatronic, being restrained by three others. It's a blue rabbit, and the others holding him down include a bear, a wolf, and a gator.

"Bonnie! You have to calm down, please!" The bear pleads.

The gator growls as he's hit the face by a loose claw. "He's not home right now, Fred. Make a decision already, or I will."

"It's a long shot, but anything you can do?" Bri asks. "This keeps happening randomly to all our bots, and the only solution we've been able to think of has been a bit, graphic. Bonnie's a good guy, I think if he could stop, he would."

Glancing around briefly, you see several already disarmed GUARD bots lying about. Still twitching every so often. Alive, obviously, but likely in pain. If animatronics could feel pain, that is. You're going to assume yes for now.

You nod, trying to think quick. "Yeah, let's give it a chance." You try to take a closer look at the bot. "Tell them to flip him over on his back."

As Bri does so, you dig around in your bot for your knife, snatching it up into your hand when you find it.

You approach the group, cautious, but determined.

"Get me clear access to his head." You direct, earning a look from the gator and the wolf, but they shift so you can move in.

You ignore the thrashing and garbled static coming from the bunny as you kneel down, hand ghosting over the metal of his skull until you find his access panel. You wedge your knife into the small crack, popping it open and tossing it off into the snow.

Bonnie grows more erratic for a moment, and you jump back slightly until they regain control over him.

"Hope you know what you’re doing, mon ami." The gator mutters.

You nod, leaning back in. "Ouais, moi aussi."

Inside, it's set up exactly how you predicted, and after a few quick button presses, and the unplugging of a few wires, Bonnie stills completely. You remove your hands entirely, waiting for a few moments. Once the time is up, you slowly reach down and reinsert the wires in their proper places.

"Okay. Let him go." You stand up, stepping back. You bump into something, and after a glance to the yellow hand on your shoulder you know who.

There's a quiet voice by your head as the other animatronics also step back, and the bunny slowly starts to get to his feet. "What did you do?"

"Shut off his limb controls, then gave his system a hard reset." You murmur back.

Bonnie stands straight, gripping his head. "What happened?"

He's tackled into a hug by the bear that had been holding him down, and a chicken animatronic joins shortly thereafter. "You're okay!"

"Of course I'm alright, Fred. Seriously, what's going on?"

The group of guards cheer, and you feel several reach around the bots behind you give you their thanks. You give polite smiles and nods in response, but inside, you're thinking. You're thinking intently.

Bonnie has an earring in his right ear, and he's around the same height as another rabbit you know well.

And his control access is identical.

Bri takes up your vision then, Lisa still in her arms. She encircles you in another hug. "I knew you could do it! Thank you."

"Of course. Glad he's alright."

She goes to say more, but stops, bowing her head. You see the others around you have done the same, in some cases going down on one knee. Turning around, your realize why.

Through the now surrounding quiet, there's a lone clap that can be heard. It's coming from the carriage, from a man who's now standing, the crown on his head glinting in the sunlight.

The smile on his face is wide, almost too wide.

"Well done! Well done, indeed." The King ceases his clapping. "I've yet to meet one as well-versed with machines as myself. Tell me, who must I thank for stepping in and averting disaster here today?"

You can only stand frozen in shock, the grip that's slipped down to your arm is like iron. This is entirely not how you were expecting this day to end up.

Well, shoot.

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

Man, bet y'all weren't expecting the references to og fnaf in this huh? I keep y'all on your toes. You should know by now, NEVER lower your guard when it comes to me and Confused spirit related things. Anywho~ thanks for reading! I'll be working on getting the next one out soon :)

Main Post with chapter links & info

Tag list (if you would like added, see this post for more info):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8

@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles

@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva

@juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a (brilliant mastermind behind this au idea btw)

#dca fandom #fnaf dca #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf moon #sundrop #moondrop #dca fic #x reader #confused spirit #HS! au #i told yall the moon lovers would be eating #BUT I DIDNT TELL YALL THE SUN LOVERS ALSO GOT TO EAT #everyone wins #now to go write another request #and THEN #magma time :D #i have a specific scene from this i want to draw #take a guess which one

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starburr · 2 months ago

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getting the urge to watch amphibia all over again but grrrr, I got midterms to prepare for

#zeth's ramblings #irl stuff #amphibia mentioned #i love sashannarcy #but like #its also so interesting to see their growth #revisiting their journey #character flaws #theyre so flaws by bastille #like #esp the childhood friend with complicated feelings part #but then putting aside things so they can help one another #sashannarcy #save me

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adhdvane · 2 years ago

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i finished making my gear build for inkbrush yesterday.... i think i found my favorite weapon to play.... is this how you become a brush main

#sammy liveblogs about spoon3 #splatoon 3 #sammy be quiet #sammy no #look i put swim speed on the shoes bc i use them for other weapons #and if i'm having too good a game with lots of kills more respawn up isn't helping me #tbh i dont like the jacket but i just naturally got the swim speed on that one #i am gunna try to put it on a different shirt #but the one i have in mind...#well if i want to do it with no chunks... i have to advance it 37 times.....#and aside from that i don't have have swim speed drinks right now #so even if i want to advance zero times by chunking twice i drinking once i have to wait til i get a drink #seed checker says i will get one from big run so tomorrow evening i should have that #but i would also need like 17 more chunks to chunk twice lol #and i kinda want to just wait til i get a couple more two put ninja squid another another shirt i like #so i can use it with a different weapon build #but ninja squid also requires run speed up chunks and i have 25 of them rn #but i want to save up to 45 bc i think that's what i want to put as the main on my nautilus 47 gear build #changing the main ability on the shirt in the only thing i need to adjust on that one #the gear build on that rn is main: rsu + spu (needs to be changed) + sj #sub: rsu + qsj + ia + ssu x 6 #i know the nautilus 47 doesn't need as much run speed up as other splatlings bc it can store its charge and swim #but idk what else i really want to put there and sub power up is really a waist as a main when my sub is sensor and i'm not using it #i use point sensor like a nut when i play nova bc revealing the enemy and being back up fire is basically the entire point of nova #but there's not really a point for me to have gear that extends the length of point sensor if i'm rarely using it #i guess maybe thermal ink but idk #nautilus has decent accuracy and a player getting hit or hit by a stray and getting out of my sight doesn't happen all that often #or at least enough for me to think thermal ink is justified over something else #if i got rich in ssu i'd do that over rsu but i need it for other gear and god

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facts-i-just-made-up · 5 months ago

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Not A Joke, Not Unreality:

A company called Quantum Fiber (under Century Link) recently set up my home town for fiber optic internet. I got them a month ago and aside from a few outages it was decent.

Last week, it went out. They sent me a super specific time it would be back-

They failed to make it and sent another, minutes later.

And another when that failed.

And over the week, more and more.

I called and they just read me the same email out loud. They offered no escalation or resources. Every time, they fail. I have not had internet for my house in a week, and this morning I got this one-

I looked into other people having the same problem and found this-

Edit forgot link

That's not something called a "766" line, that's them fucking up my city 766 times. This company is fucking shit, and I'm sick of this. I've filed an FCC complaint but those take a month to even get a reply.

So I'm hoping my 173,365 followers can help make this show of their ineptitude and callousness go viral. Please.

They are in a time of massive expansion into many new states and cities. I am asking anyone so inclined with a few minutes to spare to find your town or state's government information technology office or liaison, or just a local government representative of any kind, and write them a quick note stating that this company destroys town utilities and offers absolute frustrating failures of service in return.

If you have Quantum Fiber and have been similarly failed by them, please file an FCC complaint. You might at least get a free month out of it.

If you work with a news source or popular blog, please boost this however you can.

If you are on any app on which they are present, please feel free to write or tag them and let them know they have failed their customers and cities they work with.

Please do not engage in threats or harassment of any form. Keep this legal, civil, and proper so that it can create a legal basis and record of good citizen interaction on the part of this company's victims. I am asking for help in a grassroots campaign, not a violent or prank-filled heap that just gets people in trouble. AND DO NOT FOR ANY REASON EVER PESTER THE WORKERS, PHONE REPS AND TECHNICIANS THEY HAVE OUT THERE. This is the corporation's fault, not the poor folks they employ who they likely try to make take the backlash.

If you have any other ideas on how to hold a mega-corp responsible for the shit they put their customers through, please comment and recommend. I am sick of this shit. I know there are worse things happening and even worse companies doing horrid things right now. But maybe this one is new/small enough that a viral campaign can kick them where it hurts and get them to act more responsibly to their customers and safely to the places they work.

Please help if you have time. Please spread this in the hopes they see it and get off their butts and fix their horrible shit. Any random reblog or post on any platform might be the one their investors hear of.

Thank you anyone for anything you can do.

-Ari

#not unreality #quantum fiber #centurylink #fiber optic internet #call to action

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eowynstwin · 10 days ago

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Price x Reader. Age gap. Divorced Price. Older BF Price. Vaguely smutty. Follow-up to this.

Price realizes you’ve never had a reliable man in your life exactly the second time he discovers you looking up DIY home maintenance for very simple projects.

It missed him the first time because he was deployed. You’d mentioned offhand how you were figuring out how to rebalance a ceiling fan, and he’d just automatically assumed that you were doing it yourself because he wasn’t there, so he simply praised you for your resourcefulness and lived for the next three weeks off of the way you’d absolutely glowed at his words.

But then he gets home, and one evening on the couch he catches you googling “how to fix a leaky sink.”

“What’s that?” he asks you, tamping down on the sudden feeling of masculine inadequacy that reared up almost immediately at the discovery.

“Faucet handle’s leaking all over my counter when I turn it on,” you say, not looking up from your phone. “Landlord’s out of town and can’t fix it.”

“I’m in town, ain’t I?”

You look up at him then, brows raised. You hadn’t even considered asking him, then.

“Oh—I didn’t want to bother you, John, you only just got back, and you’re tired…”

You trail off at the droll expression on his face.

Price has learned a lot of lessons from his previous marriage. The foundational one: just because he hasn’t been asked to help doesn’t mean he is believed to be unreliable. Adding that lesson to his knowledge base about you—young, modern, independent—calculates out an obvious answer that curtails any sour mood that might have sprouted up over the issue.

He puts his hand over your phone screen and lowers it down to your lap. “I’m fixin’ the sink,” he says simply.

He enjoys the way your eyes dilate at the assertion.

The next day, he shows up at your flat wearing old work clothes and carrying his heavy toolbox in his hand.

(You don’t live together yet—something he’s keen to rectify—but he has a toothbrush in your bathroom and permanent space in your bedroom drawers. He can be content for now.)

And you—you answer the door in the filmiest of sundresses, the ribbon tie on one shoulder hanging at a loose angle.

“Heard you need some plumbing done,” he says in the gruffest of voices, already understanding the game.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re here,” you say, barely able to hide your giggle, “I’ve been so worried.”

He steps in close to you, close enough to feel the heat of your body radiating off of your bare skin. He has half a mind to put the charade aside and lift your skirt here and now, but another lesson helpfully springs to mind: anticipation of the act makes the finale all the sweeter.

“I’ll show you to the kitchen,” you murmur, looking up at him with warm, dreamy eyes.

When he gets under the sink, he finds the problem easy enough to fix—the cold water supply line simple isn’t screwed in tight enough, and when he wiggles the whole contraption by the valves he finds that nothing has been tightened up to standard. A couple of years knocking the thing around had probably loosened up the locknut.

He elects to fix the whole problem in one go, while in the meantime you stand off to the side, watching him. He feels your eyes on his legs, trailing up to the hair on his belly exposed by his shirt riding up.

“Sir, I’m sorry, I should’ve said before,” you simper, “but I’m not really sure how I’m gonna pay for this.”

His cock jumps in his jeans, and he feels your gaze move to it as if it’s a physical touch.

He levers himself out a little and meets your eyes, keeping a stern expression on his face.

“I’m sure you’re gonna figure it out,” he says. Looking down at his groin and then back up at your face might be a touch unsubtle, but clear communication had been the most important lesson of all.

He slides himself back under, and pretends he doesn’t feel you approach, or lower to your knees between his spread legs. He ignores your gentle hands falling on the closure of his jeans, the pop of the button coming undone, the parting of the zipper as you pull it down.

“Of course, sir,” you say, “I’m sure I will.”

The softness of your hand meets his growing erection, caressing the head of his cock with your thumb—followed very close behind by the wet, liquid heat of your mouth.

#price x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x you #john price x you #price smut #mwritesprice #madi writes #this was a warm-up that got away from me

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nereidprinc3ss · 8 months ago

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hi!!! here for a request. can we have a imagine where reader has a wound from surgery or whatever on like in a rib and she hides to change the bandages but then spencer sees her and he’s like ‘lemme help you’ and…

you do you for the rest!

in which spencer helps BAU fem!reader change her bandages in the bathroom at work. it's intimate, and he's adorable and awkward, and it only fuels her terrible, terrible crush.

warnings/tags: fluff, talk/description of wound, brief talk of being stabbed (does not actually occur in this fic lol), reader wears a bra, spencer undoes said bra but not sexually, lots of suggestive humor and teasing, a TINY sprinkling of angst but not really, idiots in love

a/n: i'm picturing early seasons spencer and it is filling me with so much unbridled joy. I. LOVE. HIM. thank you for the request!! and lets not talk about how inconsistent my formatting for requests is pls and thanks!!

It’s not like you meant to bend down so quickly that your wound reopened—but here you are, suffering the consequences of your actions in the women’s bathroom at Quantico as you try to assess the injury before you re-bandage it. And your shoe is still untied.

Unfortunately, the fact that you had quite literally been stabbed in the back last week makes it hard to reach said injury—especially when you’re at work and so can’t take off your shirt like you normally would. And all this struggling means it’s taking longer than it should, so now you’re focused on the wound and its scabby, wet edges and all the things it’s secreting rather than hurrying to give another statement of the entire event to Hotch since the first one had apparently been too sparse on the details.

A knock sounds on the open door. Spencer calls your name.

“You in there?”

The angle of your neck has your voice slightly strained as you call back, “yeah, what’s up? Is it Hotch?” you pause to hiss as you accidentally scratch at the wound with a nail. You don’t even want to know how much bacteria you just introduced to it. “Tell him I didn’t forget our meeting, I’ll be there in—”

“It’s not Hotch. I just wanted to make sure everything was okay with your back? I know you said you were going to check on it, but you’ve been in there a while.”

You sigh, dropping your sore arm as you continue to hold up your shirt with the other and regarding the reflection of your back in the mirror.

“Actually—could you come in here?”

There’s a pause.

“You want me to come into the women’s restroom?”

“Yes, Spencer. It’s fine. There’s nobody else in here. I just… I need some help, I think.”

The last part is admitted quietly, with an air of defeat. To admit to needing help, is, by your standards, the same as failure. Spencer knows this, which is probably the only reason he puts aside his hesitations and shuffles uncertainly into the tiled room. If you’re asking for help, it’s because you really need it.

“What do you need help with?” he asks, sweeping his gaze suspiciously around the lavatory as if you were lying about there not being any other women present and this whole thing might be a trap of some sort.

“It’s gross, and you can totally say no.”

He raises his brows expectantly, before spotting the weeping wound on your back. Unconsciously he steps closer, leaning forward. It’s not your fault, and the gore is not specific to you—anyone’s body would react this way to being stabbed. But you still feel embarrassed by the close attention to such an ugly marring, which nobody besides you and your doctors has actually seen up close.

“That doesn’t look good,” he mutters. The expression on his face is irritatingly familiar—the drawn brows, tightened eyes, barely parted lips—but it takes a moment before you realize what it is.

“Reid,” you complain. He’s still stooped over slightly to examine the wound, and looks up at you through dark lashes with those infuriatingly warm puppydog eyes.

“What?”

“You’re looking at me the way you look at a dead body on the slab.”

His nose scrunches.

Some might say it scrunches adorably.

“No, I’m not. That’s just my face.”

“Okay, well stop. It’s freaking me out.”

He pouts—actually pouts. Subtle, but bottom lip jutted out and all. It’s ridiculously endearing.

“My face freaks you out?”

“Wh—no! That’s not what I said! You have—you have a great face! I didn’t mean—”

You manage to claw yourself out of the hole you’re digging when you see the dopey smile growing on his face.

Oh. He was fucking with you.

He never used to do that. It’s unnerving to be the fucked with instead of the fucker for a change. Especially when it’s Spencer.

“What did you need me for?” Spencer asks by way of peace offering. You close your eyes and sigh, attempting to collect your thoughts without his presence re-scrambling them.

“Um—I just need you to put this bandage over it. I can’t reach without taking my shirt off.”

And now you’re forced to wonder if he’s thinking about you shirtless as much as you’re thinking about you shirtless.

“Yeah—don’t do that,” he says absentmindedly, stepping again closer to get a better look before turning to the nearest sink.

For some reason, this offends you.

“Why not?”

Spencer pulls another face as he washes his hands—you love the constant flow of expressions he always seems so unconscious of. Even when they’re not pleasant and directed at you.

“Are you asking me why shouldn’t you take your shirt off?” he clarifies.

“I know why I shouldn’t take my shirt off, but I want to know why you think I shouldn’t take my shirt off.”

“Because we’re at work?” he observes astutely. You frown deeply at his completely logical reply. Spencer chuckles as he dries his hands and approaches once more, taking the square of gauze pre-lined with medical tape from your hand. “I mean, I can’t stop you. But it would be kind of a weird choice.”

“Oh, so me shirtless is weird?”

Cool fingers meet the comparatively hot skin of your back—where everything is still sensitive because the wound wreaked havoc on your nerves there. You flinch slightly.

“Sorry,” he murmurs gently. Though his touch is so incredibly light it doesn’t really hurt—it hurts much less than when you’re tending to the wound, anyway. It’s almost soothing. After a moment he continues, a bit louder. “And that is not what I was saying. But I am completely comfortable asserting that it would be weird for you to be shirtless at work.”

The gentle touches contrast with his teasing words and serve to disorient you as you’re shaken back in to your usual dynamic. Which is markedly more sarcastic.

“Well—”

Before you have to think of something to say, Spencer interrupts you.

“Your, um—I think your… brassiere… is in the way.”

As soon as he says it you burst out laughing. It echoes through the room.

“My brassiere? Are you actually 70 years old?”

His brows knit even tighter and his face gets very pink very quickly. He can’t meet your eyes over your shoulder.

“That’s what it’s called.”

“Spencer, you may be the first person to use that word since 1952. Say bra.”

“I don’t want to,” he complains. Your laughter only grows as your head tips back.

“Why? How is brassiere better than bra?”

“It’s—it’s too colloquial! I’m trying to be professional!”

“Call it a bra or I’m going to rub my dirty hands all over my back,” you threaten, adopting a poker face so he knows you mean business. His eyes widen immediately.

“Oh my god! Bra! Do you want to introduce staph and meningitis and g—do not do that!”

“See? How hard was that?”

“I hate you,” he mumbles, face still flushed and adorable. “And you still have to take it off.”

“Excuse me?” you grin, pretending to be affronted because you know he didn’t mean it like that but it’s fun to pretend he did. Fun for you, of course. Not so much for him. He's utterly flustered by this point.

“Or at least undo it! It’s in the way.”

With a deeply bored sigh, you go to unclasp your bra—but as you go to do it your shirt drops down. You grimace, humor briefly forgotten as the fabric brushes the damaged skin.

“I can’t—”

“Okay, just—I’ll do it,” Spencer says. “Just move your shirt again.”

So you do, watching his reflection as he works.

And you have not one joke to break the heavy silence with as you feel his knuckles gently pressing into the middle of your back, as he unclasps the bra with his characteristic tenderness and a surprising amount of agility. It’s quiet except for your pulse in your own ears as he carefully pushes it out of his way, holding it down with a hand to your rib cage and fingertips slipping just under the fabric of your shirt—unintentionally and certainly non-sexual, no doubt, but skimming under your heart in a way that still feels so intimate you’re realizing how touch-starved you are.

“You do that often?” you find yourself asking, because you’re stupid, and you need to cool the tension before it chokes you, and you can’t help yourself even though you don’t actually want to know the answer.

“I,” he begins, voice quiet as rustling paper, tongue darting over his lip and eyes narrowed. The sentence stalls as he focuses on placing the patch just so. “Do not think that is an appropriate workplace question.”

Something aches in the pit of your stomach.

Something resembling jealousy.

It was not the timid evasive linguistic maneuver of someone who is insecure about the thing they’re discussing. It was not the awkward fumbling no but I don’t want to tell you that which you were expecting from Spencer Reid.

Nor is it an easy yes—an admission between friends. He doesn’t want to tell you.

You swallow and try to act like yourself.

“Yet here you are, in the woman’s restroom at our place of employment, undoing my bra. I think we’re past professionalism.”

“When you decontextualize it like that it sounds like something it’s not. This is professional, because I’m helping you with a wound you sustained on the job. I’m being a good colleague.”

Your lips twist into a smile he can’t see.

“A great colleague would kiss it better.”

“It's almost like you want me to file a sexual harassment complaint with HR," he says through a little smirk as he smooths the bandage over. Before you can snip back, he steamrolls over his own teasing—you’ve both been speaking in almost reverent tones since he started but his voice loses the sarcastic edge from a second before and reverts back to concerned and sweet. “Does that feel okay?”

You rotate your shoulders best you can without letting go of your shirt or flashing the good doctor to check if it feels secure.

“It’s good. And hey—if I were going to sexually harass you I would do a lot better than that. You think that’s my best material? That’s just the tip of the iceberg. I keep so many inappropriate comments to myself. You’d be shocked by some of the things I have almost said to you.”

He laughs, secures the band of your bra and begins fitting it to the clasp you’d had it on—and at that precise moment Emily walks in.

“H—woah.”

“It’s—I’m—I was helping her!” Spencer panics, immediately removing his hands from you like his palms are burning and holding them up defensively.

“Oh, you helped me alright,” you tease, pulling your shirt back into place.

“Don’t say it like that!” And then, to Emily, “I was changing out her bandage!”

“Changing my bandage,” you emphasize, winking more than is advisable.

“That’s—this is a hostile work environment! I feel unsafe!” Spencer almost yells, half laughs, as he scampers towards the door. “I’m going to HR!”

“Shut up! You love it!”

His laughter audibly travels farther away for several moments as he presumably goes back down the hallway to do his actual job.

You have the stupidest grin on your face, but you wipe it off when you notice Emily staring.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she says, shaking her head and looking away, moving toward a stall. “You’re just… you guys are funny.”

“What do you mean funny?” You demand, standing right outside her stall as she closes it.

“Wh—I mean funny! Are you going to listen to me pee, you weirdo?”

You frown.

She makes a good point.

Unfortunately, giving Hotch a more detailed statement is just as bad as you’d thought it’d be. Despite how cheery you’ve tried to remain about the whole situation, despite the way you insisted that the wound was so shallow you didn’t need more than a few days off work, despite the jokes you make about forgetting it’s even there because it’s on your back—it’s hard not to remember exactly how the glass felt twisting under your skin, how you’d felt suddenly so hot and lightheaded and sick to your stomach and the way Morgan hollered because he didn’t know how deep it had gone after you crumpled quick from shock, when you’re asked to describe it all in excruciating detail.

It only takes ten minutes, but they seem to drag on and on and by the time you’re leaving Hotch’s office you feel utterly drained. You hurry back to your desk, covertly wiping away moisture that you refuse to allow to become tears. Once seated, and having dodged sympathetic looks and avoided any do you want to talk about its, you allow yourself a few deep breaths with your eyes shut.

When you open them, you realize there’s a fresh cup of your favorite tea on your desk, in the Snoopy mug the team is always fighting over. Now his little black nose is covered by a square of yellow paper. You’re already smiling as you peel away the sticky note and hold it closer.

On it is an adorably odd smiley-face, and a note in familiar, messy looping scrawl.

I would never report you to HR beautiful

That would be a stab in the back!

You snort loudly and clap a hand to your mouth—but you’ve already drawn the attention of almost everyone in the bullpen.

When you turn to look at Spencer, he’s not looking back. Instead, his eyes are firmly trained on his computer screen. But he’s got his chin propped on his fist over the desk, and his knuckles are doing a poor job of concealing a giant self satisfied grin. He is the only person on the team who knows you well enough to make such a distasteful joke. And he also knows you well enough to know that it would make you feel so much better after your meeting with Hotch than all the well-meaning sincerity in the world ever could.

Funny.

Maybe that is the right word for what you two are.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #dr spencer reid #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fic #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic

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weirdly-specific-but-ok · 10 months ago

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Heylo my maggotsies... I'm sorry to do this but I have a thing that I really, really need to do (thank you Ash for helping me realise that) but I'm terrified to. so well. I'm going to make one of the posts (Neil reblogged me a couple of days ago so I feel pretty safe making one now since he only lurks by once in two weeks so this is as good a time as it gets to make a post and not expect many notes, yes I'm an overthinker and I'm actually scared of this getting notes).

Sigh. Here goes.

...I'm scared of even typing it.

Nope okay I can do this let's go.

If this post gets 1k notes, I'll look up jobs in design and film making that don't need a college degree.

2k notes, I'll sign up for an Alliance Francaise course so I can have another language on my CV, and I'll find a course that teaches me how to use design software.

5k, I'll look up distance learning alternatives, because just talking about physical college yesterday made me spend the whole morning and afternoon today in and out of nightmares screaming. Fuck.

10k, I'll tell my mum that I can't do the offline college. She's been talking to me about it, but I've been dodging because I'm not well-off and I really need to be earning and idk how to do that without college and I feel so guilty.

15k, I'll officially back out from the college (does that count as dropping out, if it hasn't begun? maybe half. i am a college and a half dropout, my 11th grade self would hate me and my 10th grade self would refuse to believe it).

I don't know what I'll do then. I don't know how to live as trans here in India, I don't know how to earn enough to be able to help my family, I don't know what I'm good at and I'm so fucking terrified. But. I spoke to @random-doctor-on-the-internet last night (I love you Ash you're such a fucking amazing human) and they made me realise that well maybe landing in a hospital with steroids to relieve an allergy attack because of exam stress isn't normal and so.

Well. Here I am. I know I can't do it, but I'm scared to risk everything, it's just not something people do here, dropping out. But also (TW s**cide statistics mentioned below the cut)... And so I've just. Got to do it, got to save myself and say no to college (cue say no to school, kids joke). Somehow be brave enough. And yeah.

To quote a financial express article: "In an alarming situation, a total of 7,62,648 suicides were reported in India between 2018 to 2022, Of this student suicides account for 7.6% at 59,239". Maybe if more people did say fuck you to the system here, that wouldn't be the case. That number could have been 59,240 (aside from everyone who wasn't counted and hushed up), that could have been me, and I don't want to put myself in that situation again. You know? Yeah.

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aperrywilliams · 7 months ago

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That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary: You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #aperrywilliams #amanda perry williams

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werecreature-addicted · 9 months ago

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Sacrificial Lamb reader/vampire priest.

Just consider— a cute little lamb reader lying on the altar, begging not to be slaughtered, the tears their crying making the vampires heart flutter. All the cult members are confused why the ritual keeps getting pushed back- meanwhile the vampire is spoiling his little lamb rotten.

ohioohooohiohoo

His hands are gentle, stroking your cheek as you wake slowly, your eyes flutter open slowly to the morning light, and there he is, your keeper.

"Morning," you yawn sleepily,

"Good morning, little one,"

"is it a good morning? I thought my execution was scheduled for today." you huff, you should be more scared but the soft look on his face can only mean one thing. you get out of bed and change idly, not minding the priest as he watches you, he's a man of god after all, there's no way he'd be looking at you in lust.

"ah well, we thought so but some knew doctrine has come to light, now is not the time for sacrifices. we'll have to wait for next winter, at the very least," he says. You hum thoughtfully turning back to face him, his hungry red eyes fixed on your body, flicking up to meet your face as you turn around.

"Well, I'll make myself useful until winter then." When you were born, it had been prophecized that you would be sacrificed to the gods and your death would bring about a new golden age for your homeland. Then, on your eighteenth birthday, you'd been handed over to the church, to live out your final days in the temple, under the watchful gaze of the father and his dedicated cult. Your execution has been postponed four times now.

You wondered if the cultists even bothered setting up the altar this time. it was always something, the stars weren't aligned properly, the materials were all wrong, you fell ill and couldn't be slaughtered while sick, and now, Spring was a time for rebirth, you'd have to wait for winter for the ritual. which winter? who's to say? it might be another few years before he tries to start your sacrifice again.

He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. he puts his nose to your throat and kisses your skin. "You could be useful to me now," he breathes, his voice strained, tight with hunger. You had been so scared the first time you'd almost been killed, you remembered sobbing and pleading for your life, his knife poised above your throat, He told you that you could live, for now, if you served the cult and him. Of course, you agreed, that was the first time he bit you, spilling your blood on the altar in a different way.

You lean your neck to the side and sigh as you feel his fangs pierce your skin. you have to lean back against him for support as he drinks your blood and you grow weaker.

"so perfect, so delicious," he murmurs to himself as he drinks your blood, licking at your throat, catching any stray drops of blood. His hands slide down your body feeling up your hips and thighs. You can feel his hard cock pressing against your back as he slowly grinds against you. The priest is chaste, a man of god, but he's also a vampire, as he's explained he can't help but get erect when he feeds it's a natural side effect and completely nonsexual.

He pins you down on the bed and pushes your legs apart, grinding against you, fully clothed, as he bites your neck again. you feel dizzy, a mix of feelings as your blood is drained and as you buck and grind against the vampire on top of you. you try to keep quiet, but you can't help but moan as he takes full advantage of you. You feel dirty, the man who's saved your life so many times now is just trying to eat and here you are getting off, practically masturbating right in front of him with his cock.

You can feel how large his dick is as you grind together, you can't help but wonder what it would feel like if he pulled your underwear aside and fucked you properly while he drained your blood, the thought alone makes you shudder and press up against him as he continues to dry hump you. although with the sticky feeling between your legs and his wet mouth sucking on your neck, "dry" might be the wrong word.

you bite down on your own hand to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as you cum, still trying to hide your own lust, what would the priest think if he found out you were so lustful? if you were lucky he'd bend you over and spank you for being so sinful, at worst he might chain you down to the sacrificial altar and leave you there.

The priest pulls away, breathless, your blood smeared messily around his mouth "What a mess we've made," he huffs, looking down at your neck, and then his eyes drop further to the place where your bodies meet.

"I can clean it-" you offer weakly,

"no, no little thing, rest, you need to let your body heal, close your eyes, I'll take care of all this," he coos reassuringly, you nod obediently and close your eyes.

You look so venerable like this, he could do almost anything he wanted with you in this weakened state. the prophecy said it had to be a virginal sacrifice, maybe he could halt the ritual permanently if he just took what he'd wanted from the beginning.

#monster imagine #monster fucker #monster #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #vampire #vampire smut #werewolf boyfriend #vampire x reader #vampire x reader smut #blasphemy #tw dubcon

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novulen · 11 months ago

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ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ : What happens when you almost get caught in the act by your son? Whatever it is, Satoru is unfazed & too pussywhipped to care.

ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛꜱ/ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ : 18+ (mdni), riding position, mentions of overstimulating, (princess/ baby) used to adress reader, cock-blocking, fem!reader.

“He’s finally asleep.” Satorou huffs out, tiredly, trudging to his respective side of the bed and immediately tossing himself onto the mattress beside you. You can’t help but softly giggle when he does such dramatic things, acting as if your son had tormented him—though your sweet boy would never do such things.

“C’mere.” he murmurs mindlessly to you, reaching out a long arm before you can even process what he’s said and pulling your form flush to his chest.

His sultry tone already tells you what he wants.

“‘Toru…are you sure he’s sleeping?” you mumble under your breath, scooting closer to your lover and placing a hand worryingly to his cheek. Recollections of the last time Satorou’s antics had almost occurred to your toddler catching you both in the act flood your mind, and you want to do everything in your power to keep that from happening again. But, Satoru, on the other hand, doesn’t seem worried about the circumstances.

“I’m sure, baby,” he promises, almost too quickly. Although you’ve always been one to take him for his word, as unethical as that may sound, and you hesitantly nod in response.

Satoru raises an eyebrow for a second, noticing the uncertainty laced within your eyes.

“We don’t have to, y’know.”

“No—I want to.”

You mask your worry with a honeyed smile, and lean into his lips. It’s almost instinct with the way his body moves to close the gap between your lips, his soft ones colliding messily to yours not a second later.

Satoru moans into the kiss, having found pleasure without even entering you yet. His big hands slide down your torso, lifting you effortlessly on top of him in the process, and find purchase on your hips.

“Mhm, ‘d you lock the door?” you whisper into the kiss, opening your eyes only to find a totally blissed-out Satoru. But, he merely hums, continuing to move his lips unfazed and too deep in the kiss to stop.

The dim light your bedroom lamp provides casts onto your lovers face, giving him a warm, loving glow that —though has quite the opposite effect of warm, and loving—causes your cunt to throb.

“Need to be inside you, princess,” he groans, only pulling away to fill his lungs with the breath you’ve stolen from him, pupils blown wide. And when he’s done, without another word, he’s kissing you again.

Soon enough, with the way he’s grinding his already half-hard cock against your clothed pussy, and the manner in which he’s smothering his lips against yours, you forget what you’d earlier asked.

He, in fact, did not lock the door.

“So fucking needy for you,” he murmurs underneath his breath, softly clamping his teeth down on your lower lip as he pulls back. Satoru takes in the sight before him; you, lips rosy, swollen, and agape, on top of him with nothing but some skimpy sleep shorts and a crop top—it’s almost too good of a sight to behold, he thinks.

“Need you too,”

Your hands are quick to find the hem of his grey sweats, tugging his boxers down alongside his pants just enough for his cock to spring up.

The leaky, pink tip releases a droplet of pre-cum, and your eyes watch attentively as it slides down his sturdy, tan base.

With just one touch, Satoru’s already thrusting up into your hands. “S-shit, don’t do this t’me. Just put it in.” he breaths, azure, blue eyes boring into yours with a stare like never before. It’s compelling in a way, and you find yourself sliding your shorts and panties aside as you position yourself over his shaft.

Rough hands smoothing over your ass, he pushes you down onto the head.

You moan deliciously, your palms flat against his chest once he's fully in. And as much as you'd love to tell him how good this all feels, how he's so deep and snug inside you, all that comes out is a choked cry of his name.

"Shh, y'don't have to say anything, I know it feels good," he hums, wearing a smug grin on his face—knowing he's the one that's got you a babbling mess—cocky as ever. "Just keep riding—fuck, just like that."

You're soon bouncing on his cock, a stream of fat tears rolling down your cheeks, and throat too sore to do anything but whimper.

"Satoru, baby.." you whine, throwing your head back in utter bliss.

"Yeah, princess?"

"You're so deep..."

And Satoru's never felt compelled to outdo himself more than he does now, the thoughts of overstimulating you swarming his head more than he'd like to admit. He groans at your words, and only wants to push himself deeper—deeper until you're crying out his name.

Satoru, Satoru, Satoru...

...But, you're whispering.

"Satoru!" you whisper-shout, finally snapping the frenzied man out of his trance. Both your heads whip to the door, and a panicked-silence falls over the bedroom.

Your heart races as you hear the pitter-patter of small feet stop right in front of the bedroom. “Mama?” your toddler calls out, thankfully knocking on the door before he lets himself in. You’re more than glad he didn’t take after his father when it came to manners.

“I’ll be right there, sweetie!…don’t come in, ok?” And you’re making quick work of tying your silk robe around yourself, though, not much to your surprise, Satoru simply covers himself and watches things unfold.

“Ok..” you cringe at the confusion laced within his cute voice, making your way to the door. “I need to go the bathroom, hurry, mama.”

Your eyebrows bunch together. “You used to go to the bathroom all by yourself, honey, what happened?”

“Papa told me the boogeymen would come get me if i went alone.”

You shoot a deadly clear at Satoru, who happens to be coincidentally ‘sleeping’ at the moment.

But the moment you arrive back, having tucked your son into bed properly this time, he’s awake.

“Baby, I can explain.”

Could he really, though?

Your eyes roll in annoyance, and you get into bed with your robe on, giving him the hint that what had taken place before would not continue.

You face away from him, reveling in the way he’s straight after you, a hand already on your hip.

“So…can we?” he trails off as his hand snakes down, and you feel as if you can see the pout on his face when you push him away.

“No more pussy for you, boogeyman.”

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jjongslutz · 1 year ago

Text

이희승 HEESEUNG 💋 YOU'RE STILL A VIRGIN? [ MDNI. ]

IN WHICH you realize you never completed your most important new year's resolution: losing your virginity. luckily, your roommate is willing to help you out with that

WARNINGS ⨯ smut, porn with a smidge of plot for context, not proofread cuz who needs that, fingering, orgasm denial (briefly), missionary, very vanilla sex, heeseung's kinda awkward #pathetic_men

WORD COUNT ⨯ 3.1k

AUTHOR'S NOTE . . . first work of the year!! sorry for taking an impromptu break so suddenly, but my works will still be coming out slowly as of now, so thank you for your patience 🫶

# TAGLIST ! @wonkifangirl @chlorinecake @sunjaywoning @jaeyunthejakesim @deobitifull @notevenheretbh1 @jvngw0nlvr @jongszn @ineedsomezzz @haelahoops @seongslutt @fakeuwus @leeheeheeseung @aheewonenthusiast @lprww @wonsbaer @heeseungssidechick @smisworld @rayofsunshineeee @starrypen @heerated @snwosgf @nycapartmentsworld @sooyeonvida @dear-hoon @nikiiitties

“We never finished sharing our new year’s resolutions.”

You stop mid-bite into your pancakes. You and Heeseung had spent all morning making them, finally testing out the new oven you got after the last one broke down during another pancake morning. It survived, luckily. There’s only the taste-test left, but Heeseung’s comment catches you so off guard, you put the fork back down.

“New year’s resolutions?” you repeat. “You mean the ones from basically last year?”

He nods, shoving his first bite in. He hums at the taste. Success. “Yeah, we made those lists and started sharing but then—” Heeseung tilts and quirks his brow in thought. “—I can’t even remember. We probably got distracted, but either way, we never made sure we both completed our lists.”

Chuckling awkwardly, you keep your eyes on the plate. “I don’t even know if I still have mine—”

“I do,” Heeseung interrupts. “We put them in that box, remember? I found it this morning, that’s why I thought to bring them up, ha.”

“You didn’t, er, read them, did you?”

Heeseung shakes his head, chewing through another bite. “I thought it’d be fun to go through them and see what we’ve done or not.” He lightly taps his fork around his plate. “We’ve got a few days before the new year starts, no plans, I don’t know…”

“No, no, yeah, I get it,” you assure, nodding quickly. “I just, um, they were stupid. I was stupid. This year changed me, you know?”

Your roommate looks at you with a teasing glint in his eye. “Oh yeah?” He watches you nod again. “All the more reason to get them.” And before you know it, he’s rushing to his room to, you assume, get the box he’d mentioned earlier.

It’s not long before he’s practically skipping back into the kitchen-dining area bringing the box. Tossing his plate aside, he sets the box in between you two and sits back down. You’re anxious at how he unfolds the lid and pulls out two sheets of crumpled paper.

“Yours was the one with the rip at the top,” you say, reading the questions in his mind. Your face flushes as you realize that’ll only prompt him to take it out the other first.

He smiles at you before hiding his face behind the paper. He begins to read it out loud. “Resolution one: Learn how to make (good) pancakes—” Grabbing his fork, he clinks it twice against the porcelain. “Check. Number two: Make weekly savings—Check, right?”

You hum, your leg shaking beneath the table.

“Alright, and then—” He lowers the paper. Your eyes widen. “Lose my virginity?”

“Okay!” you say overenthusiastically. “See! I was being stupid, such a dumb thing to write on a new year’s resolution list, right? Haha, so funny, let’s just throw these out—”

“Wait, but we can cross this off, though, right? You had that boyfriend?”

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” you clarify. “He was… gross. I never really liked him like that, so it just never happened. It’s whatever, I’m a virgin, okay, let’s move on. Isn’t the next thing I put down like eat more salads—”

“You’re still a virgin?”

You look at him bewildered. What was up with the intonation? Was it really shocking? Why does he even care? You suppose he’s always been the nosy type, just never assumed it would translate to this, as well.

He seems to realize the second meaning to his words and fumbles to take them back. “Okay, not like—I didn't mean it in a weird way, I’m just surprised that you’re... you know?”

“It’s… whatever,” you clarify. “It’s fine. It’ll happen at the right moment, right? That’s what they all say.” You'd shovel another bite into your mouth and you can’t help but taste the bitterness from your words with the sweetness of the syrup. “I’ll get over it when it’s done and gone.”

Heeseung clears his throat, paper discarded to the side, his eyes fixed on your plate in deep thought. “Do you…”

You raise a brow.

“Do you want my help?”

In your defense, you really hate being a virgin. Not that it’s embarrassing or shameful to be one, but the fact that you swore to yourself that you wouldn't be a virgin anymore since last year makes you want to crumble up inside.

You just don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of your past self. Imagine her laughing at you? That’s a new low.

Which leads to this moment right now. Laying in Heeseung’s bed, in Heeseung’s room, waiting for Heeseung to come back into said room with the “supplies” he was rushing out to get.

The door slowly swings open as Heeseung pushes it with his back, his hands full. He makes eye contact with you and a pout makes its way across his lips. “You’re still wearing your clothes?”

Your eyes snap open wider. “Yes?!”

“We’re gonna have sex, Y/N, your clothes aren’t supposed to be on.” He smiles at you as he sets down lube and condoms.

A wave of relief washes over you when you realize he’s just teasing. Heeseung’s a gentleman, but it’s not like you've gotten the chance to know the side of him you two swore to never let you meet. He could’ve been a weirdo creep for all you knew, as long as he was paying his half of the rent it never mattered until right now.

“Do you want me to turn around when you take them off?” Yep, just the same old awkwardly sweet Heeseung you’ve always known.

You smile, albeit nervously. “You’ll see me naked anyway, might as well put on a strip performance to get you in the mood.”

He laughs at your sarcasm, then points to the lights. “We could turn those off if you want.”

For a moment, you consider it. If not for the hopes of Heeseung seeing the least possible, but for the ambiance. Do people leave the lights on or off during sex? Not like you know. Ultimately, you shake your head, getting off from the bed and sticking your hands under the hem of your shirt. “Ready?” you ask him, though the question is more internalized.

His hum is muffled by his hands reaching at the collar of his shirt.

At once, you two pull your shirts off together.

Standing bare chest to bare chest - with bra - you eye him carefully. “You take your shirt off from the top?”

“What?”

You mirrored his previous action. “You took your collar and pulled your head through the neck hole first—” your words muffle as you reenact it sloppily. “Normal people take their arms out first.”

Heeseung stiffles a laugh behind his hand. “Aren’t you supposed to try to seduce me?”

“Is this not sexy?”

“Oh, please, go on, you’re making me hard.”

The two of you laugh and you realize you’re not so nervous anymore. The anxious jitters left your hands and you can feel your muscles relaxing. It’s just Heeseung. Just Heeseung.

As he recovers from a fit of laughter, you look at him in a way you haven’t taken the chance to ever since you met almost two years ago. His arms that flex when he wraps them around himself. His smile which switches to a sly smirk when he’s resisting the urge to laugh louder. His hair that falls neatly into place, over his eyes that glint to the point you can’t take your gaze away from them.

Heat rushes to your cheeks.

He’s attractive. Yeah, that’s been obvious.

Your type? Maybe…

But this is different. And, oh god, he’s going to have sex with you.

Heeseung clears his throat, snapping you out of your daze.

“Pants?” he asks cautiously. His eyes are brimmed with concern, probably sensing your confused thoughts, clearly not understanding what you’re telling yourself.

You respond by tugging at your sweatpant laces, letting them drop down dramatically. Heeseung keeps his eyes glued to your movement, eyes widening at the sight of your bare legs and white panties. He quickly reaches for his belt.

To your surprise, you can see that he’s, at the very least, getting hard. Maybe it’s nerves. You try not to think too much about the possible influence the sight of your almost-bare body has on him.

Still, to test the waters and ease or completely disrupt your mind, you ask, “Can you help me with my bra?”

He fumbles an answer, you’re pretty sure you hear a ‘yes’ through his blabs, as he kicks out of his pants fully and stumbles to your side of the bed. You turn your back to him, giving him the cue by raising your hair away from the clasp.

Shivers run down your spine at his gentle, warm touch on your skin. You never knew you were sensitive, but with every simple movement, every brush against your back has you feeling goosebumps running up your arms.

Heeseung’s breath is hollow behind you.

When the clasp is finally undone, you pull your arms out of the straps, letting the material drop to the floor with your other discarded clothes.

You turn to face Heeseung, his eyes saying more than any words could mean. Stunned, he asks, “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes,” you whisper in return, eyes drifting down to his mouth.

He doesn't hesitate to lean in. His arms naturally slide around your waist, pulling you flush against his body as his lips hungrily crash into yours. You gasp through the initial shock of ferocity, relaxing into his hold with your hands coming up to the nape of his neck.

His fingers squeeze your skin pulling a sound from your mouth, muffled by his lips. You don’t even notice the way his knees push you back until you’re laying on the bed, lips still attached to Heeseung’s, but even those pull away eventually. You almost get up onto your elbows to chase after his touch, but stop yourself at the sight of his intense gaze.

Your gazes lock with each other for a moment, before he finally breaks contact to rush to the bedside cabinet where the lube bottle sits. He pours a generous amount on his fingers, rubbing the gel slowly. He eyes the way it reflects the light and this one reaction makes you think he’s never seen it before, but you doubt it — you’ve heard his sexual escapades thanks to your graciously thin walls.

“I’m going to finger you first,” Heeseung interrupts your thoughts.

You simply hum in return, letting your legs fall apart for him to get back into place, between them.

Heeseung has one hand on your thigh, the other levitates over your skin with nearly-dripping lube, but his eyes are on yours, waiting for another nod before he can continue.

Giving him the signal, you aren’t prepared for the chill that runs down your spine at the cold sensation of the lube on your sensitive skin. Soon enough, though, your gasps turn to gentle hums as Heeseung draws little circles on your bare pussy.

“This okay?”

You nod needily.

One finger finally intrudes, swimming through your walls and curls to find that certain spot. Your hips roll into it—you never thought it'd be this different from your own fingers.

“More,” you whimper.

“Already?” Heeseung teases, but you can hear partial genuinity in his tone.

Wordlessly, your hand reaches down to his, pulling at it to get another finger inside of you.

Heeseung chuckles in disbelief, but doesn't disobey your request.

Two fingers in and you’re letting soft gasps escape your lips, eyes already threatening to roll back at the rhythmic pattern Heeseung’s keeping up. He pushes in, pulls out, pushes back in and curls into you. You match his pace with your hips, hoping to deepen his touch. He’s so close, so close to where you need him.

Meanwhile, his thumb rolls gently over your clit to ease the tension of the stretch. It helps, making your head spin and forcing you to focus entirely on the pleasure you feel, rather than the pain.

Heeseung doesn't warn you when he slips in a third, but you’re busy throwing your head back, moaning to tell him off for it.

“Fuck,” you whisper to the ceiling. “‘Is so good.”

Your back arches as Heeseung’s fingers reach your G-spot, curling and tickling the bundle of nerves, ripping out more muffled moans, your hand thrown to your mouth not to disturb the neighbours.

“Right there!” you moan. “Right—shit, yes—Right there!” When he keeps at it, you can't hold on much longer. “Fuck, I’m so close—”

And then it’s gone.

All the pleasure is ripped away from you as Heeseung pulls out of you coldly, barely looking your way as he turns to the bedside cabinet.

“Hey,” you whine, albeit childishly.

It’s as if something clicks and he turns back to you. “Sorry,” he singsongs out. “I didn’t want you to come so soon, I still have to actually fuck you, right?”

You pout, but ultimately he’s right. That’s what you're here for. “Fine.”

He fumbles with the condom packet, eventually giving up at going at it with his lubed-fingers and rips the package with his teeth.

“I could’ve helped,” you tell him, smiling teasingly.

“I got it. I got it.” He waves his hand at you before he uses that same hand to roll down the condom and—Holy. Shit. He’s packing.

You never took the time to think about his size, though you probably would've determined it was a decent size from the outline of it when he's chilling on the couch with sweats on.

But now that it's out, hard and flush against his toned abs? You take a deep breath and try not to think too much about how it must taste, how it’d feel to have him down your throat—as if you even know how to give a proper blowjob. Maybe he could guide you, holding your head from the back and pushing it back and forth rhythmically up and down his cock and—

“Y/N?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you’re sure about this?”

He’s pumping his cock as he asks. You resist the urge to lick your lips.

“Yes,” you say. “I’m ready.” And there’s no lie in your words.

Heeseung crawls back onto the bed once more, staying on his knees when his body is lined up with yours. He nods to himself and you before lining up his dick with your entrance, one hand falling to the side of your head, the other resting on your lower stomach as he pushes in slowly.

The intrusion is unfamiliar. The stretch hurts more than expected. Yet, your mouth is agape in frozen pleasure — Heeseung let his hand fall lower and is now drawing circles on your clit to ease the tension.

He keeps his thumb on your pussy while slowing his movement to a stop. “Tell me when I can move.”

Instead of relaxing into the stretch, preparing yourself for more friction, you focus entirely on Heeseung’s movements on your clit. Rolling the bud of pleasure between his two fingers, your eyes flutter shut in pleasure.

You test the waters by flexing your core muscles, squeezing your walls against Heeseung’s cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, snapping his hips forward at once, but he quickly stops himself. Heeseung looks up at you with cutely worried wide eyes. “Shit, sorry—Are you okay?”

You giggle. “Go!” you say between laughs, rolling your hips down to get him going.

He doesn't need to be told twice. He quickly resumes his previous thrust, your legs are naturally pushed apart to give him more access—moans spill from your lips at the newfound depth he reaches.

Heeseung’s head dips, his hair falling over his face, but does nothing to hide his expressions. You watch him for a moment, reveling in how good your pussy is making him feel. You clench around him again and his mouth falls open. He lets out the most harmonious sound you never expected from him but want to hear again and again.

So, you roll your hips into his, until your lower stomachs are threatening to brush against each other, until Heeseung lowers from his hands to elbows, and your bodies are flushed against each other. Your skins are sticky with sweat, but you can’t be bothered. Not with his rhythmic thrusts reaching so deep inside of you. Not with his fingers still playing with your clit, torturing the bud with nonstop pleasure. Not with his lips so close to your mouth, and your head pulling itself upward to capture them in another kiss.

Your hands snake to the back of his head, curling into his messy hair and pulling gently to bring him closer to you. His free hand finds its way into your hair, too, pushing the flyaways back into the rest of the mess, away from your face, before it rests gently on your neck, guiding you in the kiss.

“Fuck, baby,” he whispers into your mouth as your walls clench around him again.

Your head spins at his low tone, pleasure bubbling in your stomach in a way it never has before. “I’m—Shit—I’m so close!”

Heeseung takes this as a signal to speed up his fingers on your clit, and slows down his thrusts, deepening them with each push in.

“Come on, come for me.”

And you do.

So much, like never before.

Your back arches into him, head thrown back, letting out a sinful string of moans. You’d curse from the pleasure, but your thoughts aren't coherent enough to form words.

You’re frozen in place, legs shaking as Heeseung pulls out to finish himself off. He jerks off into the condom on top of your wasted body, coming undone as soon as your dazed eyes meet his hungry gaze.

He doubles over, landing on his hand, face mere inches away from yours. “Fuck,” he says.

“Fuck,” you repeat, a giggle in your tone.

“Congratulations,” he says, rolling onto his back to be laying beside you. “You’re no longer a virgin.”

Your weak arms raise in a small celebration. “Yay.”

“How was it?”

You can’t even respond, hands coming up to cover your flushed face. You can feel Heeseung’s smirk behind them.

“I’ll take that as good.” Then, after a beat. “Does that mean you'd want to do it again?”

Your hands fall flat to your sides in one quick movement. “What?”

“There’s so much more I can teach you.”

“No,” you say while shaking your head. He looks defeated, you almost want to reach up and pet him like a dog. “Not until you buy me dinner.”

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