#but they all go about it very differently
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This is why I reject the idea that fanfiction isn't "real" writing. If you're a writer who's joining an existing project - be it a comic, a TV show, a game series, whatever - you need to have a very specific skillset:
You need to be able to study characters that aren't yours and figure out who they are on a deep level - not just personality and motives, but the way they talk, the way they emote, things they would or wouldn't do and what it would take to make them act differently.
You need to be able to work within the confines of existing history and worldbuilding, and evaluate whether something you want to add makes sense in the context of the world.
If you're going to introduce something that contradicts existing worldbuilding, you need to be able to justify it in-universe.
If you want a character to do something that contradicts their previous behavior, you need to show how the character justifies it to themself, or why they don't recognize it as a contradiction.
I'm not saying every fanfic writer has these skills, by any means - some fic writers don't care about canon compliance, some prefer to create their own versions of the world, and yeah, some just aren't very good writers. But if you're one of those writers who does work within the existing canon, and you get good at it, you're way more qualified to take over an ongoing story than some "real" writer who has never written canon-compliant fanfic in their life and is more interested in telling their story than continuing the characters' stories.
hey its me comic writer who constantly mischaracterizes characters because i turn them into ocs and two-dimensional self-inserts i'm gonna make your favorite character more accessible to new readers by regressing their growth, retconning longstanding canon, and ultimately making the timeline impossible to follow thus discouraging new readers while also inconveniencing dedicated fans by destroying the character they love so much hope you understand
#I specify canon-compliant fanfic because I know of at least one comic writer who did write fic before becoming an official writer#But as far as I know it had very little to do with canon and was just for personal entertainment#Which is fine but it doesn't develop the skills you would need to take over an ongoing story#And he did not show any interest in respecting preexisting canon when he became an official writer#Or in respecting the other writers' ongoing stories for that matter#âOh yeah this plot point would have major repercussions for a huge number of characters.â#âBut you'll never see them deal with those repercussions at all because they have a different writer with their own story in progress.â#âAlso I'm borrowing this character from the other writer for a few issues.â#âBut I can't go three pages without a joke so this really serious character who's kinda struggling mentally is gonna be a bit goofy.â#âDon't worry; we'll ignore that really major event in his recent past that gives him something in common with the villain here."#âHe would fight the villain anyway so who really cares about self-reflection or nuance.â
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Youâre in love with Spencer from the minute he gets you in his bed. [4k]
c: fem/afab. smut mdni, p in v sex, oral, fluff, aftercare, early intense feelings, spencer in sweetheart mode, flirting.
Ë àŒ àłâïœĄËâ
Itâs a cold day in November when you see him across the bar. Heâs sitting at a table of friends drinking from a tall glass of coke. Heâs normal. Non-imposing, undeniably cute, laughing with a smile that shows his teeth. His tie is to his belt and his suit jacketâs been thrown over the back of the chair.Â
He looks like he might have fun with you, if you can catch his attention. Something about him seems⊠eager to please.Â
You watch him, and you watch his friend. He seems more your usual type, muscled, confident. Heâs the key. You let your gaze linger on the curly-haired boy until the friend glances your way. You give him a look. Hey, whoâs your friend?
You look away once you see an arm rise. Thereâs elbowing, arguing. You sit relaxed at the bar and twists your straw through cherry spritz, ice cubes tinkling. After a minute you think, Oh, come on. After two you worry you arenât his type.Â
Then comes salvation. The curly haired boy slots between your seat and the next, beckoning the bartender forward with a nearly perfect, âExcuse me?âÂ
âRight there with you.â
You wait. He seems cute, but youâre not trying to take him home if he doesnât have the chops for it. And not because you see yourself as some deadly thing to be pleased, but you canât spend another night fluffing someone elseâs feathers.Â
âHey,â he says finally, surprisingly without the nerves youâd read before. He mustâve breathed through them. âHowâs it going?âÂ
You lift your gaze from the dark purple of your spritz. The first thing you notice are the beauty marks you couldnât see before, along his cheeks and hiding among a light shadow of stubble. âHi, handsome,â you say softly. You canât imagine him liking a firm touch, but that might become more apparent later on. âNothingâs going on, I suppose I was just waiting for you.âÂ
âYeah?â he asks.Â
âMm-hm.âÂ
He puts one arm on the bar. You let your eyes dawdle on his hand. âAre you here alone?âÂ
âI was with a friend,â you confess, lifting your gaze to his, making steady eye contact for as long as heâll allow you to. His gaze flits to your mouth as you continue. âBut she met somebody. I was told not to wait up.âÂ
âSo youâre in need of company?âÂ
You tip your head to give him the best glance at you, all eyes and gentle smiles as you nod. âWould that be you?âÂ
âWhat are you drinking?âÂ
âCherry spritzer.âÂ
âCan I buy you another one?âÂ
âJust one, please.â You believe in the overarching reach of sexuality, of being with someone, but you donât believe in drinking and sex, nor allowing a man to pave the way. âThis is my first. If I have more than that Iâll be too tipsy to do what I want tonight.âÂ
âWhatâs that?â he asks.Â
You tap your nose. The boy âthe manâ to your delight, seems to like the gesture very much.Â
The bartender approaches. Your unknown, lovely looking man asks for a coke and a cherry spritzer, extra cherries, though you didnât tell him too. He nods to your little plate of cherry stems and asks, âCan you tie a knot?â But before you can answer, he adds, âIâm good at it.âÂ
Spencer proves to be good at a few things. Kissing, touching, his face in sweet places and his spit-wet thumb to a nerve. One moment youâre sitting at the bar wondering if heâll take you home and the next youâre taking a taxi, youâre lying in his bed being stripped of your stockings, being laid on top of. You didnât know he had it in him, this sweaty, adoring kissing in the dark; thereâs a difference between kissing for hungerâs sake and kissing with love, and for some strange reason Spencer doesnât seem to know the difference.Â
âHave we met before?â you ask, the ache between your legs sharper than ever as his hand flirts with the boundary of your stomach and the apex of you, begging to go back there and prolong what heâd started.Â
âNo.â His lips are on your neck, kissing as he slips a finger behind your ear. âIâd remember.â
His chest pushes into yours again, triggering a breathy gasp as the button of your nipple takes the brunt of him. He turns your face, that flirting hand abandoning your wanting cunt to squeeze at your sides, your ribs, the soft hill of your breast.Â
âDo you wanna cum again?â he asks softly. The best part is that heâs earnest, not a second of bravado in it as he lays his lips against your cheek.Â
You could. Heâd done stuff with his mouth youâve never experienced before, fingertips teasing your wetness as he told you something about tantrics and pleasure, his hand under your knee, holding you open. Youâd felt so suddenly out of control and âand honestly, youâd thought yourself half in love with him for the way he was kissing you alone. No shyness, but softness. No rushing, no annoyance when it took you time to tip into pleasure. Heâd been delighted when you seized, had sat up to draw the climax out with circles, matching pace to your rising chest.Â
You slip a hand into his curls and treat him with the same sweetness heâd given you, kissing him like you love him: for whatever time this is, you really do. Heâs the prettiest boy youâve ever fucked. All it took to meet was a snowstorm and a need to escape the rigid cold.Â
âI think you should fuck me now,â you say, scratching his scalp lightly, not so frantic, no more pulling. âPlease.â
He kisses you, kisses your jaw, and doesnât pretend he isnât eager as he snatches the condom from the dresser. For a while things are giggly and breathless, nervous for a pause, then achingly tight. You stay and Spencer wraps his arms behind you, kissing your neck as you let your leg fall to the side.Â
âWhen did you tell me your name?â you ask, breathless again as his kiss matches his rhythm, slow grinds of his hips, flirting as his hand had been, just a few inches from filling you completely.Â
âI donât remember,â he says through a kiss.
âSpencer.âÂ
âYeah?âÂ
âI just thought Iâd try it,â you say, covering your eyes with your hand as his hips flex and he touches that worst part of you over, and over, and over.Â
Spencer turns your face to take your hand, slowing to a crawl. He checks your gaze, and sinks into you again. Slow fucking, long kisses, his hands rubbing up the juncture of your neck and down again, then stroking your arms, comfort for a pain you donât feel.Â
âWhat do you want me to do?â he asks quietly.Â
âJust this.âÂ
âNo, but what do you want?â he asks, lips pulled into a smile that didnât quite make it into a laugh. âWhat feels best? I can get you there again.âÂ
So you end up more on your side than your back. He helps you lift a leg over his hip and then heâs back to kissing you senseless. You canât think of anything but being kissed, being fucked, it doesnât just feel like an okay pastime with a vaguely handsome guy heightened by a drink, itâs fucking with intent. He curls an arm behind your back to hold you against him and he lets you have everything.Â
Something must give you away, a shaking leg, the way you breathe; he knows youâre ready before you do, kissing down your chest as his hand sinks between your hot thighs. Slick or not, he finds where he wants to touch, your eyes filling with heat as he slows.Â
He draws it out. The second his lips find your chest you trip into cumming for the second time. You hadnât realised he was close but you cum and he quickly follows, his nose at your collar. He sounds insane. Beggy, breathy moans, a shade from laughter.
âCan I keep going?â he asks just under your ear.Â
You canât say yes fast enough. Heâs kind, ignoring your desperate tone.Â
You donât count the number of times you fuck that night. Itâs not clear, really. They arenât separate occasions. You come down and heâs stroking the skin of your neck as you catch your breath, drawing lines down your arm, murmuring, âYou okay?â as you nod and slip a hand behind his back.Â
He hugs you like heâs known you for years. When you kiss his blushing chest, kiss downward, he turns breathless. It goes on like that for a while. Afterwards, he situates himself between your legs and lets his weight force your thighs into your abdomen, just enough to feel the pressure, searching kisses pressed to your knee.Â
Itâs not that you fuck all night, itâs just different than before. And when he encourages you under his sheets to lay behind you, thereâs a part of you that wants his hand to stray between your legs again, no matter how tired you are.Â
âIâd say sorry for keeping you up, but you sounded like you liked it,â he murmurs in the dark, wrapping a solid arm around your stomach and pulling you tightly to him.
You have no regrets. For perhaps the first time ever, it feels as though all your gasps and teary sighs were adored, and not just smugly kept. âYou didnât notice me falling asleep?âÂ
He laughs at your teasing, his breath kissing the back of your neck. âWhen did that happen?âÂ
ââŠI donât want to fall asleep, now.âÂ
âYou donât have to⊠I can make you a cup of tea, orâŠâ He draws another line down your arm, ending in a swirl before your elbow. âYou could shower.âÂ
Both sound nice, but no. Your legs are still weak from being held, the ache of a good fuck taking home in your stomach. Truthfully, nothing could make you wanna leave whatever it is heâs doing to you now. The shape of his lips warms your shoulder.Â
âThat was amazing.â
âYouâre amazing,â he says, wrapping you up all over again. He canât decide how to hold you. You grab his hand and keep it there under your breasts, letting your eyes flutter closed.Â
How can he say that? He has this strange way of touching thatâs making you feel yards prettier than you usually do, and heâd just fucked you like a dream. You couldnât manage that sort of pleasure alone.Â
âWhere have you been hiding?â you whisper, toying with his fingers. Might as well do everything you can while you can.Â
âNowhere.âÂ
âSo where have you been?âÂ
He takes a breath. âTurn around?â
You begin turning and he takes you like a dance, leaning in slowly to kiss you, until his smoothness gives way to a smile. He pulls back. In the barest lick of light from the window, you can see a blush spreading across his nose.Â
âSorry. I should ask, I shouldnât just kiss you,â he says, cupping your cheek.Â
How might you go about marrying this boy? You decide to play it cool, kissing him until you fall asleep in his arms, your lips still parted for another lazy press of his as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders.Â
â
You wake to something new. There isnât a man against you hinting for a morning tryst, nor an empty bed, a note to let yourself out when youâre ready. Thereâs a real, gentle hand on your neck. It slides to your shoulder and rubs.Â
âYou okay?â a voice asks.Â
You force your eyes open, blurry vision further occluded by a face.Â
His hair is damp. Like he showered a while ago. Spencerâs hand travels to the back of your neck and touches accordingly. âI wouldnât have bothered you, but itâs almost one. I was worried you might be sick.âÂ
You close your eyes, smiling, better when he scratches the back of your neck with short nails. âI was up late.âÂ
âI know, Iâm sorry.âÂ
You wait for him to tell you why you have to leave, any manner of excuse, but nothing comes.Â
âSo are you? Okay?â he asks gently.Â
âIâll leave soon.âÂ
âThatâs not what Iâm trying to say. If youâre not sick, you can go back to sleep.âÂ
âAnd just lay in your bed all day,â you murmur, disbelieving.Â
âIf you wanted to. Or⊠you can shower, and I can make you something to eat.â His thumb takes to your cheek. One night stand sex canât be something he does often, or thereâs a real possibility that heâs the first man to ever do it right.
His eyes are so much bigger than you realised. âDo you wear glasses?âÂ
He stammers, embarrassed, âHow would you guess that?âÂ
You raise a hand to his face and draw a short line against his nose. âYou have the marks here. Were you reading?âÂ
âJust while I was waiting for you.âÂ
âWhat do you do?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âI didnât ask what you do, I donât think we managed to ask each other much of anything,â you say, rewarded for your vulnerability with a chest-aching smile, his canine teeth peeking from under his lips. He still looks kissed, lips a shade of sore youâre sure youâd see on yourself in the mirror.Â
âI work for the government,â he says, catching your hand to cradle your wrist, âfor something called the behavioural analysis unit.âÂ
âLike, statistics?âÂ
He lets your hand fall against his chest, a thin grey t-shirt under your knuckles failing to hide the shapes of him, of which youâd explored at length last night. You kissed as much of his chest as you could and it hadnât felt like enough, Spencer leaner than youâd realised with a stomach on the soft side, easy to kiss relentlessly.Â
Your mouth is drying thinking about it. Spencer watches you wordlessly, before saying, âI guess it is like statistics, especially for me. We try to think about serial criminals in terms of their motives. Itâs an attempt at math for something not usually quantitative.âÂ
âAnd youâre good at it.âÂ
âIâm good at math, yeah.âÂ
âProbability of a,â âyour breath betrays you, slightly too hopeful as it catchesâ âmorning kiss if I brush my teeth first?âÂ
His eyes light up. He leans down carefully, and gives you a chaste, firm kiss.Â
You forget that youâre naked, not worried about being shy. The sheets fall away from you as you lift up to meet him. He holds them to your naked waist, the other hand skirting just below your breast. You wish heâd touch you like he did last night, but he isnât so forward. His kiss is kind. You frown as he pulls away.Â
âI had a really great time, last night,â he says, tip of his thumb setting your nerves aflame as it drifts over your skin. âReally great.âÂ
âMe too.âÂ
âAnd youâre okay?âÂ
âWhat do you mean?âÂ
âNothing hurts?â he asks.Â
âNo, of course not.â Your confusion clears. âNo, you werenât like that. I think my legs might be aching but thatâll go away in the shower.âÂ
âI can run you a bath, if you want. Itâs a half bath so you might not be able to stretch out, but itâll help.â He gives you a smile. The familiarity between you doesnât want to ebb.Â
âShouldnât have showered without me,â you say, soft, lest playful be something he doesnât want on a new day.Â
âMy hair was greasy. Someone kept touching it.âÂ
You sit up. Spencerâs hands fall to yours.
Itâs hard not to play with someoneâs hair when itâs in their face, and when theyâre trailing kisses in warm places. He doesnât blame you really, you can see it in his eyes.Â
For a pause, you just sit.Â
This is nice. Not being thrown out, left with that aching gap in your chest like you gave something you hadnât intended when it started. Sex will never be easy again, you realise, not when you know it can be good.Â
âYouâre not working today, are you?â you ask.Â
âNo, why?â he asks in turn, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.Â
âMaybe weâŠâ He waits. Heâs pretty enough to force your hand. âWe could get to know each other,â you say, gaze taking refuge on his hands. âIf you want to.âÂ
âReally?âÂ
âIâve never had that with someone. Maybe weâre, I donât know, compatible in more ways than one.â You remember yourself, lifting your head, startled by the sheer want in his expression as he holds your fingers. âYouâre handsome, and you seem kind. We could have fun.âÂ
âWe could have so much fun,â he says, that flushed blush already spreading across his nose again.Â
You draw a line up his chest. âI might need help getting my back, in the shower. Thatâs not a tight squeeze, is it?âÂ
âWe might have to stand very close.âÂ
You giggle wildly as he pulls you up, worse when he drapes a sheet over you worrying about the cold. Itâs treatment you could grow used to.Â
âÂ
Spencerâs trying to figure out how he got here. You, across the bar sending him looks âDerek swore you wereâ and the second he got to your chair he realised you were out of his league, but he had nothing to lose beside his pride.Â
Then there was you, in bed, pulling on his tie murmuring sweet somethings, sweet pleadings, really, taking another kiss as he moved as you asked.Â
Then you, the morning after. Youâd slept for long enough to scare him, but when you woke you were exactly the girl youâd been the night before, only slower. Ever so slightly bashful. We could get to know each other.Â
Spencerâs not sure how he managed it, but you donât go home. And on Monday you go to work and come back. On Tuesday he meets you outside of your building to take you for dinner, and you come back with him again, another night up in his arms, tangling his hair with enthusiastic fingers. The sex is good, it is, not just âcos his past catalogue of lays were with women who wanted casual experiences solely, or those few times with Ethan where it ended too fast and left him useless. You fuck him like you love him. Itâs crazy, except heâs acting the same way.Â
When youâre not fucking youâre in his lap, or sitting at the coffee table with your face on his thigh driving him crazy, or youâre laying with your feet tucked under him telling him something about you. He is desperate for the details.Â
Like, this is it. Youâve pulled your chair as close to his as humanly possible and thrown both legs over his, basically sharing his seat as you laugh around a messy mouthful of Thai noodles.Â
âDonât look, Iâm being disgustingââ
âYouâre never disgusting, let meââ
Heâs heard you pee. Heâs kissed you all over. The human aspects of you donât bother him.Â
âSpence, can youââ
âItâs going up your noseââ
ââstop, holy sââ
He pinches your nose clean. âTada. Kiss now?âÂ
âYou wanna share?âÂ
âYes!âÂ
âNo.â You press your hand to your mouth before he can lean in.
He lets you swallow your mouthful. Your ankle is cool in his hand. When people talk about love, itâs about meeting someone, the dates and the phone calls, the big questions. Spencer didnât know you could do it like this. Every time you go home, youâre asking if you can come back or pestering him to come your way.Â
âCan I kiss you now?â he asks imploringly.Â
âNo, weâre done kissing for a bit. I want another one of those massages.âÂ
He canât joke about it or heâll turn crimson. You enjoyed a polite leg massage, until he got to your thighs, and things got out of hand.Â
âNo massages.â He taps you under the chin, letting his hand travel wherever it wants over the side of your face.Â
âFine, no massages. Unless you want one?âÂ
âNo, we agreed tonight weâd justâ sleep. My boss is onto me.âÂ
You wink involuntarily as he cups your cheek, his fingers pushed lightly over your eyes.
You arenât fiends, but finding someone who matches as you do makes it hard to abstain from the fun. Last night was tame, though; heâd made sure you were happy and fallen asleep to grateful neck kisses. Tonight, he wonât say no, but these all-hours affairs have to stop. Derekâs suspicious of him, Hotch has the situation entirely sussed, he's sure, and Spencerâs sixty percent sure Rossi saw you both outside of Quantico tonight kissing against a toll booth. Â
Not that it matters. Spencer has a good feeling youâre not a fling.Â
âI got you some stuff earlier,â he says.Â
You pull his hand from your face and ask, âWhat stuff?âÂ
âLike, stuff you need here. I donât know what you like, but thereâs a cleansing balmâ are you allergic to chamomile?â You shake your head. âUm, it might be weird, I got you underwear, just âcos of the situation yesterdayââ
âI liked wearing boxers, they were snug in a certain region is allââ
ââand some shampoo. That sort of stuff. Just so you can stop suffering with mine.âÂ
âYou know what shampoo I use?âÂ
âI deduced it.âÂ
âAh, yes, mister profiler,â you mumble, bending into your knees to hold his face. âIf I hadnât looked you up online Iâd think you were a stalker. How can you guess my favourite ice cream flavour when I never told you?â
He smiles shyly. âI just can.â
âIs there anything else youâve guessed about me?âÂ
âEvery meal with you takes a half hour. Youâre easily distracted.â
He laughs as you protest, âYouâre distracting! You donât need to guess that.âÂ
âYou distract me, too.âÂ
You gather yourself up and stand over him to kiss his nose. âSpencer,â you whisper, your fingers sliding into his hair, âthank you. You donât have to buy me stuff, I couldâve just gone home.â
âI donât really want you to.âÂ
You raise your head to see him eye to eye. âI don't want to either. This is⊠I like you.âÂ
He hums, wrapping his arms around you. The hugs are rarer than kisses, but only because youâve shared so many of the latter in the dark. Heâs been thinking of kisses as the extension to fucking, that theyâre okay as long as itâs done in bed, but the more time you stay, the more kisses youâve shared for no reason at all. You kissed his cheek on the train earlier and he felt it like a shock, tipping his chin down to peck you on the lips, your arm curled behind his back as the traincar rattled over a bend.Â
âI like you too,â he laughs.Â
âYeah?âÂ
âYeah, of course I do.âÂ
âNot justâŠâÂ
âItâs not just the sex,â he says, waving his hand behind your shoulder as you curl into him all over again. It feels amazing.Â
âShould we go out, then?âÂ
âWe do.âÂ
âNo, should we date? We could be partners, officially.âÂ
Spencer canât take it, scooping you into his lap, though you do sit obligingly on his thigh. He shifts to take the weight.Â
âPlease, letâs be partners,â he says softly.Â
âMaybe we shouldnât, itâs still soon.âÂ
âFive days and counting. Thatâs longer than some marriages, you know.âÂ
âMaybe we can be, like, tentative boyfriend and girlfriend. If you change your mind, no hard feelings.âÂ
âAnd if I donât?â he asks.Â
âThen we get married in Vegas.âÂ
âYou could meet my mom.âÂ
âIâd love to meet your mom.â
âDo you really wanna be my girlfriend?â he asks.Â
âI mean⊠thereâs not such a big difference in dating and what weâre doing, right? This is relationship stuff, we just sort of skipped the awkward first dates.âÂ
âWe did,â he says, failing to hide his grin.Â
You stroke his cheek with your nose.
Your attempt at abstinence doesnât last, but neither party is to blame. You have to celebrate somehow. So you finish your takeout dinner and wash dishes bumping hips. He locks the door for the night and you, giggling, struggle to change his A/C. When he drags you by the sleeve to the bedroom, he doesnât intend on jumping right into it, and for a while he doesnât. You lay on top of him between his parted legs and he spends a sluggish hour stroking your hairline, listening to you talk. But his devotion turns to your ear, and heâs kissing behind it, and youâre hitching yourself up his chest soon enough.Â
âThat cherry spritzer was worth it, huh?â you ask lowly, scratching his jaw as you sit over him.
You really are pretty, amplified by your syrupy smile.Â
âI guess that depends what you think. Was I as good at making knots as I promised?â he asks.Â
âI canât remember.âÂ
âI can remind you?â
âThat might be prudent, Dr. Reid.âÂ
âI never shouldâve told you about that,â he murmurs, your lips atop his, ready to be parted.Â
âI wouldâve found out eventually. Iâm gonna find out everything about you, honey.âÂ
Spencer lets his eyes shutter closed. Me first, he thinks, giving in to another endless kiss. He has the advantage, after all.Â
Ë àŒ àłâïœĄËâ
thank you for reading!! if you enjoyed please consider liking reblogging or leaving a comment/reply it makes my day and I am so grateful<3Â
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Buttermilk
It doesn't take long to settle into the rhythm of your new summer job. Or: the babysitter x single dad au
Part 4 | masterlist
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Thereâs nothing else to do but pretend it didnât happen.Â
In the morning, youâre surprised to wake up and find him in the bed next to you, still covered in old sweat and dried cum. You suppose even in your sleep youâd unconsciously expected him to avoid the incident altogetherâwake up extra early to shower while leaving you alone in the bed, giving you a modicum of privacy to digest the situation and its repercussions on your own.
He does no such thing.
âMorning, sweetheart,â John rumbles, stroking your cheek with his thumb. âFeeling alright?â
Dangling precariously over the edge of oblivion. Some kind of abyss. The kind that says you might not like whatâs down here, girlie, but still you sit by the edge and kick your feet.Â
âYeah,â you croak, and Lord, your voice is hoarse. Scratchy and rough, like itâs been dragged over sandpaper.Â
âGood.â He lets his hand rest on the curve of your cheek for a second before pulling it away. âWhy donât you get cleaned up? Iâll shower after.â
The bed groans under his weight when he sits up, throwing his legs over the side before rising to his feet. You quickly avert your eyes at the sight of his naked backside, hairy there as well. A bear all over. Even his yawn reminds you of one. And the way that he stretches his arms overhead and every bone in his upper body cricks and cracks, the sounds of age manifold.Â
You scrub yourself with shaky hands in the shower, gnawing at your bottom lip when you spread your puffy folds to find his cum still slightly tacky inside of you. Very bad. Scooping as much out as you can with your fingers, watching it run down the drain. Very bad indeed.Â
John has breakfast on the table when you come downstairs and it seems, somehow, uncouth to just tell him you want to go home. So instead you force yourself to sit and eat, glad that he at least agrees that it isnât the time for conversation.Â
At the door, he sees you off with a hug, watching you from the door until you reverse out of his driveway and drive off, waving as you leave.Â
âThis is really bad,â you whisper to yourself on the drive home. âReally, really bad.â
Despite the morning after, the night you spent together is never explicitly spoken about. Itâs not a âthingâ you discuss by any means. No sit down conversation, no awkward allusions to it, no talking around and around the events until the exchange becomes unbearable. It simply blips out of existence as soon as you change into your old clothes and John walks you to the door, seeing you out.Â
You still show up the next day, as usual. Nothingâs changed except everything, but it feels taboo to even mention that things feel different.Â
The world hasnât radically changed since you accidentally slept with John, but it certainly feels that way sometimes. In the few delicate hours after leaving his house, you were sure heâd call at any moment to tell you that your services would no longer be requiredâthat heâd send your last check in the mail before parting ways. So sure of that, in fact, that youâd put your phone on silent for hours before mustering up the courage to check your missed calls later that evening.
Only a few texts from friends. No missed calls from your employer.Â
He doesnât fire you. He certainly doesnât treat you any differently the next time you come to babysit. You still get paid every weekâthough, admittedly, the money makes you feel a little weird now after sleeping with him, but itâs not like you can just turn your nose up at making rentâand everything else in your life stays exactly the same. If you werenât now acutely aware of the feeling of your boss coming inside you, you might even think you dreamt it up.Â
Still, despite John never bringing it up or even alluding to sleeping with you, thereâs still a sense that heâ
The soft, affectionate thanks, hun that he gives you when you bring him a glass of water on the rare day he comes home early to work out in the garage makes you shiver.Â
His need to touch increases tenfold, matched only by his proprietariness. He must feel like after what you did together, itâs nothing for him to squeeze your thighs when he tells you that you did a good job with the baby or hug you extra tight when youâre about to leave.Â
If youâre extra shy around him, he doesnât remark on it.Â
Youâre levelheaded enough to know that he shouldnât be so touchy with his younger female employeeâhis babysitter no lessâespecially after what happened, but itâs not as though he treats you like sleeping with you is a given. When a week goes by and nothing happens, you almost relax. Almost. Enough to let your guard down.Â
Butâ
You canât stop thinking about it though. It runs through your head every hour of every day, made worse by the fact that you see him six days a week, Sundays excluded. Sundays being your one day off, which you no longer look forward to but rather dread because Sundays mean no baby, no park, and no John Price.
So, you follow his lead and pretend like it didnât happen.Â
You think itâs past you; a terrible mistake thatâll never happen again until it happens again.Â
Eight oâclock at night and the blue light from the television has begun to strain your eyes. Baby sleeping upstairsâyou put him down a few hours earlier without much of a peep; had to check on him a few times, but otherwise the baby monitor sitting on the end table hasnât so much as crackled, leaving you no choice but to doze off on the couch.Â
When the door opens, it startles you awake.Â
âMr. Price?â you ask, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and clearing your throat.
Johnâs there when you twist around to peek over the back of the couch, filling out the door frame. Dishevelled after a long dayâs work, his beard even more grown out than when he left earlier in the morning. A bit rougher around the edges, the day leaving its mark in the slight dark circles under his eyes and the set of his jaw, which only relaxes when he lays eyes on you.Â
âJust me, sweetheart.â
âSorry, IâŠthe babyâs been asleep for awhile, so I just thought Iâdââ
âItâs fine, donât worry. I know youâve got it under control.â
âLet me just get my stuff and Iâll be out of your hairââ
He cuts you off with a wave, toeing his boots off at the same time. âNo, no, noâyou stay there and finish your movie. Iâm gonna grab a drink and join you.â
Thereâs not much more you can say to that. Instead, you watch him take his bag upstairs to put away in the bedroom before you hear the sink turn on. Running water.Â
You carefully avoid looking at him when John comes back downstairs, the creaking steps signalling his descent. He heads to the kitchen without stopping by the living room first. The light switches on with a click. The fridge door opens and bottles clinking together when he roots around for something to drink.Â
And then you hear him make his way back to the living room.Â
The unspoken pact to not bring up what happened the last time you spent any alone time together imbues you with a false sense of security. Part of you expects him to take the single recliner next to the couch, if only to put some distance between the two of you.Â
Except when he comes back into the living room, he plops right down in the middle of the couch like always, close enough to you that youâre forced to scoot away, pressed up against the arm of the sofa. You shiver when he cracks open his beer and takes a swig, resting his arm on the back of the couch with the can held in a loose grip.Â
âWhatâre we watching?â he asks, blatantly adjusting himself to get more comfortable on the couch. Even soft, the outline of his cock is visible through his trousers.Â
You stare over at him nervously, unblinking.Â
âSweetheart?â John prompts when you donât answer.Â
âOh, umâŠâ You clear your throat again. âItâs just a Hallmark movie.â
âCute. Well, we can keep it on. No sense changing it now.â
Itâs tense for a little while. You keep your hands folded in your lap like a good girl and your eyes on the television. So you canât stop inhaling the heady scent of tobacco and vanilla. So you canât stop blinking your eyes, each blink heavier than the last until they spend more time shut than open. So you yawn and burrow deeper into the cushions, your head tipping back and nearly jarring you awake when you lean too far and topple over the side.Â
When you lean the other way and start to doze off on his shoulder, he pulls you onto his lap. You squirm, initially resistant, but he shushes you before you can put up a fuss.Â
âJust donât want you to drool on my shirt,â he teases in a low murmur, smoothing a hand down your side and then itâs lights out for you.Â
You wake to a blunt intrusion at your entrance. Half-awake and squirming, you vaguely feel him rub the tip of his cock up and down your pussy, teasing himself. The second you squirm just a little too much, he uses that little bit of movement to push the tip in. It pops in without much resistance; then the slow, methodical press inward, your walls squeezing around the thick length thrusting up into you.Â
âWhaââ you whimper, keening when a big hand glides up your chest to squeeze a tit, rolling your nipple between his fingers.
âSâalright, baby, itâs just me,â John murmurs, his voice right in your ear.Â
You come to gradually and then all at once, aware of your back pressed to his clothed chest and your legs spread around his, your ankles hooked around his calves. Skirt rolled up and panties pushed to the side, one of his arms locked around your waist like a seatbelt to hold you in place.Â
âJohn, Iâmâwe c-canât do it againââ
âSorry, honey,â he apologises into your neck, kissing the area he just spoke into. âHad to be inside you again. Sâall Iâve been able to think about since you came on my cock the other night. Promise itâll be easier this time, okay, baby?â
He guides you down his length until he bottoms out, slick lips kissing the base of his dick. The pressure is overwhelming; in your belly, in your throat, in your head. Heart beating a million miles a minute. Walls throbbing around his length, thicker and heavier than you remembered.Â
All you can think of now is the last time he had you like this, legs spread for him and pussy dripping wet. Taking his cock all sleepy and sweaty under his giant comforter, whimpering into his neck.Â
Itâs not as frantic this time, no rush to the finish line. He seems to like just burying his cock in you while he plays with your breasts, pinching and plucking your nipples until theyâre pebbled and sore. His hands arenât particularly soft either, callused from years of hard labour. When you whine and try to push his hands away, he shushes you again, not paying your protests any mind.Â
âFuck, these are pretty,â John praises, staring down at your tits from over your shoulder. âNo, baby, jusâ watch your show. Mâgonna use your pussy for a bit, okay?â
Itâs just that itâsâ
When he lets go of your breast to play with your clit instead, you melt, any resistance going up in flames. The heat fans over your cheeks, your eyelids too heavy to lift, vision blurring even when you try to focus.Â
He helps you grind your hips down on him, big hands like manacles on your waist. Little undulations of your hips. Short, shallow thrusts that keep you both right on the edge, drenching his lap with your juices. When he gets bored of playing with your clit, he switches back to your breasts, pawing at them and then bending down to suck a nipple into his mouth.Â
Any time you get distracted by what heâs doing, he stops, holding you down on his cock and coaxing you to focus on the television in front of you instead.Â
When he jiggles your clit, you seize up, heart hammering in your throat.Â
âGood girl, câmonâjusâ like that.â John presses a hot kiss to your temple, arm tightening around your front to keep you close. Sweet talks you through your orgasm, all vaguely paternalistic and patronising in the best and worst way. Â
He makes you lean forward so he can bounce you on his dick after, your hands braced on his knees to keep yourself upright.Â
âAh, ah, ah, ahââ
âAlmost there, honey, jusââfuck, perfect, yeah, tighten up like that. Good fuckinâ girl.â
He comes with a strangled moan, still cognizant enough to keep the volume down even if you canât. Shuttles you down onto his cock a few more times until youâre filled to the brim with cum.Â
In the aftermath, he sits you back against his sweat-matted chest and pushes his cum back into your sore cunt with his fingers when it dribbles out. Ignores your wounded little sounds like theyâre just background noise. He even makes you suck his fingers to clean them up, the digits coated in your combined juices.Â
âBest fuckinâ girl,â John growls, pressing another kiss to the side of your head. Your fingers twitch feebly in your lap.Â
Pretending like it didnât happen after the second time around doesnât seem wise, but still you donât know how to broach the subject.Â
Especially since you know itâs going to happen again.Â
John doesnât say it outright, but his actions speak for themselves. An arm looped around your waist casually in line for coffee. Paying for the two of you in any situation, you having your own source of income be damned.Â
âItâs my money anyway, sweetheart,â he says when you point that out. âMight as well just pay now.â
And doesnât that just send you into a tizzy, head spinning and mouth agape. Embarrassingly so.Â
Not to mention you still have this strange, sycophantic need to please him, even after everything. The complicated nature of your relationship aside, it still makes your heart flutter to hear him praise you for anything.Â
Thatâs how you end up in his bed on a Saturday afternoon, taking a nap with him after a long day out in the sun. Two hours spent at the botanical gardens, the sun beating down on your head, lathering sunscreen on the babyâs sensitive little arms and legs, and swiping it over his cheeks. John sporting a mild sunburn near the collar of his shirt where he forgot to apply sunscreen and when you have the audacity to giggle, he pulls your baseball hat down over your eyes.Â
Itâs almost too easy for him to coax you into his bed, even though youâre adamant about keeping it clean. A hand firm on your back up the stairs. Already yawning when you put the baby down for a nap, so why not take one too? Ushering you into the bedroom when you say you can take the couch, but why, he presses, take the couch when youâve already shared the bed before?
Well, because the last timeâ
He draws the blinds shut and climbs into bed, pulling you into his chest.Â
You wake up to John plastered against your back, bare cock nudging against your cunt while he snores into your neck. You donât remember him curling up next to you without any clothes on, but he must have taken off his pants in his sleep, now somewhere rumpled at the end of the bed.Â
When you try to quietly pull away, his arms just tighten around you more, grumbling in his sleep. The sound makes you freeze, going quiet as a mouse. A few more minutes go by before you feel confident enough to try moving again, carefully trying to slide out from his hold.Â
You wiggle a hand out, reaching for the other end of the bed.
The hand resting on your belly dips low, shoved between your legs and feeling you up before you can do more than gasp. The man behind you gives a short exhale, shaking off the last vestiges of sleep, rising out of it like a wave now that he feels something wet under his hand.
âOh, honeyâŠwhy didnât you tell me you needed my cock again? Youâre leaking right through your panties,â John rasps, dragging your underwear down to mid-thigh.Â
A big bear hand clamps over your mouth before you have a chance to protest. Thereâs nothing you can do to keep his knee from spreading your legs and feeding his cock into your drenched centre with his other hand. As soon as he notches the head against your entrance, itâs a smooth glide in.Â
âThere we go,â he pants into your neck. âBig stretchâah, yeah, nice ân tight. Thatâs my pretty girl.â
He keeps your legs spread with a hand on the inside of your thigh. All you can do is moan behind his hand, humid breath blowing back around your face as you pant. So hot for it that youâre almost nauseous.Â
Youâre a bit too tight for him to fit his cock in you, so he has to work to stretch you out, bullying another inch into you with every thrust. The angle makes it tricky though; means he canât get more than half of his cock into you. Itâs hardly comfortable for you either, your leg already cramping.Â
âMy legâs got a cramp,â you whine, unsure of what you want to happen. All you know is that you canât keep this up.Â
He readjusts his grip, but that just makes you hiss, wincing when that makes your leg twinge. Suddenly the world spins, the pillows going from comfortably under your head to right in your face, John manoeuvring you onto your tummy and hiking your hips up a few inches. It lets him get even deeper, the angle letting him slide right to the hilt.Â
âOh god, oh godâJohn, I canâtââ
âShhâyouâre alright, honey. Much better like this,â he breathes, settling on top of you. It takes him a second to get comfortable, nudging right up against a sensitive spot inside of you the whole time, so deep you can almost feel him in your throat.Â
He weighs a ton on top of you, rutting between your thighs like he canât hold himself back, his self-control snapping like brittle glass. Bristly beard chafing your neck when he buries his head to suck on the tender skin there, smothering you under his weight. Thighs trapping you in place, your memory jumping back to that time at the beach, but now thereâs nothing between you. Just a thick cock pounding into you and moulding you around its shape. Â
His hips slap against your ass with every thrust, the lewdest sound youâve ever heard.Â
âGonna make sure it takes this time,â John grunts. âWanna take care of my baby so bad? Iâll give you a couple to mind.â
That rattles you right to your core; shakes you to the foundations of who you are. You donât know what to think, what to sayâtongue tied and loose lipped all at once. Youâve let him come inside of you so many times that if it hasnât taken already, surely it will soon.Â
It slips out before you can take it back. âD-daddy, pleaseââÂ
That makes him lose his mind. Just a bit.Â
âFuck,â he snarls. âAgain.â
He wedges his arm under you to curl his hand around your throat, tilting your head out.Â
âDaddyâdaddyâplease, I wanna comeââ you pant, repeating the same word until it sounds like nothing, tongue puffy in your mouth.Â
His dick slips out at some point and he wrenches himself off you long enough to wrap his hand around himself and slap it against your ass a few times, cum tagging your skin. Your breath catches in your throat, whining when you clench down on nothing. One stroke after repositioning himself and heâs all the way back in, hammering the spot that makes you go cross-eyed and squeak.Â
âMake daddy another baby, okay, sweetheart?â Itâs not sweet. Itâs not doting. Itâs growled into your ear like a demand, punctuated by the way his hips snap forward, nearly sending you into the headboard.Â
Youâre practically an old hat at taking his cum now, squeezing up when you can feel it coming and giving him a nice little treat. He sinks his teeth into the back of your neck when he does, muffling the sound roaring out of him, and it hurts.Â
Heâs tender with you after though. Lavishes the line of your neck with soft kisses; murmurs sweet nothings into your ear while you cry fat tears onto the pillow. Even twists and turns so youâre no longer on your back but rather splayed across his chest again, urging you up for a deeper kiss with tongue.Â
ââKnow youâre tired, sweetie, but this is for your own good,â John murmurs as he wedges a hard thigh between your legs and makes you ride it, grinding your sensitive, throbbing clit down on the muscle. âCan you come, baby? Jusâ like thatâthatâs good, babyââ
It hurts so good that you donât even notice when you squirt, the emotions too big for you. Itâs like being squeezed too tight, unable to catch your breath or say anything but the same word on a loop. Johnâs sweet about it thoughâwipes the sweat from your hairline and upper lip, talking you through it until you slump down on his chest, legs akimbo.  Â
For a bachelor, you think in a daze, heâd make a good husband.
The days grow colder and the sun sets earlier.
A while ago you thought maybe this babysitting gig would be temporary. That at some point youâd move onâmaybe go back to school or apply for a more standard nine-to-five job. Thatâs how the trajectory of your life was supposed to go, you think.Â
But the timing never seems right. Maybe youâve grown too attached to the baby or maybe the pay is just too good to give up or maybe youâve just become habituated to someone getting you off at least every other day. Still, it feels a bit weird to get paid for what essentially boils down to fucking a man and taking care of his baby.Â
It comes up when youâre sitting out on the porch with him again, this time in his lap in the same adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around you to keep you warm. John laces his fingers through yours, thumb stroking over your finger, burning a line into the skin.
âDoesnât it make you feel weird to pay me forâŠâ you say, trailing off with a cocked eyebrow. Surely he must catch your drift.Â
He chuckles. You wait for the joke.
Your eyes must be big as moons staring up at him.Â
âDonât think of it as a paycheck, sweetheart. Thatâs your allowance.â
You sink your teeth into your bottom lip and swallow.Â
âOkay,â you whisper. Then let him reel you back in for another kiss, his thumb resting over your ring finger and pressing.
#ceil writing#cod x reader#price x reader#price/reader#price x you#john price x reader#john price x you#captain john price x reader
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I've been thinking about the one post that had some weirdo TIRF on it talking about how "men đ don't đ experience đ misogyny" and everybody just kind of skipped to talking about how ofc trans men experience misogyny but like
We can't just skip how fucking asinine that sentence is on its face. That is not ground that should be conceded, bc trying to state as if it's a plain fact that "men don't experience misogyny" should get you laughed out of any room you're in.
Every time a boy is told he "throws like a girl" or is called a "little baby girl" for crying, he's experiencing misogyny because he's being devalued for traits that others see as feminine, traits which those doing the mocking see as belonging to women. Every time a fat dude's "moobs" get mocked, he's experiencing misogyny. Every time a girl makes fun of a dude for enjoying something she perceives as feminine, he's experiencing a double whammy of misogyny and homophobia.
There is no other reasonable way to discuss what these men are experiencing. That's misogyny.
The longer I talk with people in all kinds of marginalized groups online, the more convinced I am both that it's very understandable that people want their experiences and their hurts and their oppressions to be totally unique and unable to be experienced by anybody who isn't part of their group and also that anybody who hammers away on the idea that "only [X] can experience [Y]" and devotes excessive time to guarding the borders of their little fiefdom is not just not helping the cause of liberation, but is actively degrading our chances of making meaningful change.
I would go so far as to say there probably isn't a man alive who has zero experience of misogyny. Misogyny is leveraged against men constantly as a form of social control. Just because it's "do X or we will devalue you by calling you a woman" doesn't make it not an experience of misogyny.
Is it exactly the same thing that women experience? No, but also what different groups of women and different individuals experience is also different. There is no flawlessly singular experience of oppression experienced only by women, experienced the same way by all women, and never endured by men.
With that very simple fact in mind, spending time endlessly trying to police the way that another marginalized individual speaks about the method and effect of their own oppression rather than finding solidarity and commonality is fucking fed shit. It does not serve us and actively sabotages all of us, serving only those who actively benefit from our subservience and our infighting.
So fucking stop it.
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Introducing Homicipher Characters to Your Plushies - Pt. 1
The Homicipher Characters come to you in hopes for whatever insanity they plan to drag you into, you instead have a different plan! Showing them your plushies!
Based off my series for the whb devils ! Consider this is scenario where you brought them back to your world with you and they understand your language fully now and vice versa !
Notes: Some very light suggestive content. Gender neutral reader ! This round of characters includes: Mr. Crawling, Mr. Scarletella, Mr. Chopped. Mr. Silvair, Mr. Gap, Mr. Hood, & Mr. Machete !
Mr. Crawling
Honestly you could do anything and it would just make him love you more.
But especially in this case!
He will sit and listen intently to every last thing you have to say about your plushies!
And he's memorized all of their names for you!! He knows which ones are your favorites and which ones you find the most comforting when you're upset.
He thinks you're so cute when you talk about them too!
He gives you and your plushies pets as you talk about them!!
Squishes your cheeks, you're the most adorable person to him and he's glad you shared with him such an important part of your life.
Will go out and find even more plushies for you. He would do anything for you after all!
Mr. Scarletella
If I'm being honest you could honestly talk about anything and he would just listen.
It wouldn't matter the topic. You wanna talk about your plushies? Then yeah of course he's gonna listen and eat up every detail.
He loves seeing your smile, and admittedly he does get a bit of cuteness aggression from it so prepare yourself for that lol.
However.... He does get kind of jealous of them too.
What do you mean he's not the only being you've given names to? Not to mention the amount of attention and affection you give to them.
Yes, these aren't living creatures and he knows this but he can't help himself!
He gets irritated about it, if you notice his jealousy right away and stop and give him attention then he'll get over it quick.
If it takes you longer to notice however. Things might end up requiring a much more bigger solution than just a few kisses and cuddles.
Mr. Chopped
They're very cute!! He likes your plushies and how excited and cute you get when you talk about them!!
But... They're not as cute as him, right?
Expect to be showing him an equal amount of attention as you are your plushies as your introducing him to them.
He just gets so grumpy and jealous way too easily.
He very much requires you to gush about him just as much as you gush about these inanimate objects.
And as long as you do so he is pleased and content and can live in harmony with your plushies.
He takes note of the names and while he might not remember every last detail, he does like talking to you about them!!
He knows it's an easy way to make you happy and he very much likes making you happy!!
However you'll never know that sometimes when you're not looking, he's glaring at them.
Mr. Silvair
While I don't think he really cares that much about the plushies, he is interested in humans. And you.
So he'll listen. It gives him a bit of insight to how not human minds work, but specifically yours.
This odd cute stuffed creatures bring you immense joy, he's not sure why, but he knows it does and he would like to know why.
Honestly it doesn't really matter what you do, everything to him provides him with more research.
That being said, it's not like it ends up being solely about his research.
He does end up finding himself being oddly endeared by your behavior and how happy you when talking about your plushies.
He's taking to placing them on your whenever you're upset or need comfort. Especially since he knows it works.
He can soft and sweet sometimes. At least when it comes to his favorite human, of course.
Mr. Gap
The idea came to you when you saw him peeking out of a dark gap that was in your plushie pile!
He came to ask one of his typical questions, but you didn't let him get a word in!
You immediately just picked up one of your plushies and started talking about them!
He doesn't really quite find anything interesting about the plushies, but he is interested in you so!
He will listen to what you have to say. And he does know some of your plushies by name after you tell him about them.
Will occasionally show up with plushies he's found that he thinks you will like.
Of course you need to give him your heart to have them though!
You won't?
Well... he guesses he can settle for a kiss or something instead....
Mr. Hood
He doesn't quite fully understand your deep attachment to these objects, but he'll support your love for them fully.
We already know he's a good teacher, but he's also one of the best listeners as well.
He will sit for however long it takes for you to share with him all of your plushies and their names and even lore if you have that for them as well.
He does find it rather endearing, even if he's not quite sure why he enjoys you talking about something for so long.
Will pat your head occasionally, if only he had a head that you could see because if he did he would have the softest smile on it as he watches you talk.
Truly experiencing you share this with him just puts an even deeper desire in him to protect you from any and all harm.
He will make sure and be guaranteed to protect that bright, beaming smile on your face that you have in this moment. At any cost.
Mr. Machete
He does not give a shit.
Or at least that's what he says.
And well, to be fair, he is annoyed by your focus on these cute nonthreatening soft things instead of just sparing with him or something.
Don't ask him if he's jealous of your plushies, he'll deny it to ends of the earth.
Ignore that he's been acting grumpy since.
Just give him a little extra attention and he'll be fine.
Also seems like the kind to get cuteness aggression. But his cuteness aggression just leads to him wanting to fight you. And bite you. Maybe some scratching too. Basically he's not gonna be nice about it and just give you squeezing hugs or something lol
#homicipher#homicipher x reader#mr crawling#mr crawling x reader#mr scarletella x reader#mr scarletella#mr chopped x reader#mr chopped head#mr silvair#mr silvair x reader#mr gap#mr gap x reader#mr machete#mr machete x reader#mr hood#mr hood x reader
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F1 DRIVERS AND YOU (their crush)
KISSING THEIR CHEEKS
( include piastri, norris, leclerc, sainz, hamilton, russel, verstappen & ricciardo )
warning : none just fluff
note : little nod to max's 4th championship win, congrats to him, sooo proud !!
â OSCAR PIASTRI
I know for sure boy was blushing so so hard. But it's absolutely adorable and cute. Oscar is very patient with you, and even though he dreams of being able to touch you in a more than friendly way, of being able to at least have the right to a little kiss, he restrains himself and tries not to act under his impulses. . However, when you decided to quickly kiss him on the cheek, out of nowhere, he actually felt himself melting from the inside. His cheeks have never blushed so much, and his heart has never beaten so quickly.
â LANDO NORRIS
Ugh, you guys can barely hold eye contact, but he's already so in love. So mad in love even. Despite the fact that you are still shy, especially him, that you struggle to make eye contact without blushing afterwards, Lando can't help but ask for more. Just a little extra. So, when he walked you to your doorstep, he immediately asked you if he could have even a mini kiss. Your lips naturally landed on his cheek, brushing against it, almost like a ghost kiss. And when you pulled back oh... He was already touching the place where your lips rested, cheeks as pink as yours.
â CHARLES LECLERC
This was absolutely surprising to Charles. But he would love to be able to feel that feeling again. When your lips pressed naturally against his cheek, your hands framing his face perfectly. He didn't move for at least a good two minutes, trying to figure out what just happened. If it was real. He was so shocked that he didn't see you lean in again to place another sweet kiss. He blinked a few times, and you could only giggle silently. Oh, it was the best day of his without a doubt. And if he could live it again, he wouldn't hesitate for a single second before saying yes.
â CARLOS SAINZ
He only had eyes for you. And he loved seeing you smile, and making you happy. So from time to time he spoils you, and although you don't like it when he buys so many things for you, you always end up thanking him warmly because after all, it's adorable. You always hugged him, hugging him a little tighter each time, but this time it was different. You wanted a change from hugs, so with a surge of courage and love you gently kissed his cheek to thank him. He was dizzy, almost on the verge of passing out. He couldn't hold back a shy smile, and above all he couldn't settle for a hug from now on.
â LEWIS HAMILTON
He waited there patiently, sitting in a corner of the garage before getting in his car. You were a few feet away from him, watching the mechanics adjust the final modifications to the car. He couldn't help but admire you. And stare at your lips. God, he would give anything to be able to feel them against his skin. And as he was about to get in the car, he stopped when he felt your arm rest on his forearm. And without knowing how, your lips crashed onto his cheek in a quick kiss. His best smile appeared on his face, as he tried to hide his blush by putting on his helmet. Finally, his wish came true, right?
â GEORGE RUSSEL
He can't stop replaying the scene in his head. He already found you so perfect, so beautiful and incredibly intelligent. It wasn't just a crush anymore, it was George, a simp for you. But already his heart was speeding up just by looking at you, he really thought it was going to stop beating when you gently kissed him on his cheeks. It was pure, sweet and... terribly affectionate. He tried to appear as normal as possible, but inside he was a mess. His whole body was telling him to kiss you and tell you everything he has in his heart right now. And he's sure that day will come soon, because there's no way another day will pass without a kiss from you.
â MAX VERSTAPPEN
As the race draws to a close, Max is finally a 4th time F1 world champion. And getting out of his car, as he proudly waves his arm to greet the crowd, only one thing is on his mind. You, you and only you. So it was natural that he found you among the crowd, looking at you as if only you existed in the world. His hair was still damp, his face still covered in drops of sweat, but that absolutely didn't stop you from pressing your soft lips against his cheek, for a long time. Passionately. And oh, that sweet gesture was better than any championship. His eyes spoke for themselves.
â DANIEL RICCIARDIO
He will never, ever stop teasing you about the kiss you gave him. Quite simply because he loves seeing you smile and laugh, but above all because he secretly wants you to repeat this gesture over and over again, for eternity. Honestly, you wouldn't even have to ask him for permission as he will already be ready to receive another kiss from you on the cheek. It was by far the most beautiful experience of his life, and oh, his heart always asks for more when he sees you. So, he hopes to feel your lips on his skin again, even if it costs him to tease you all day long.
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#oscar piastri x reader#lando norris x reader#charles leclerc x reader#carlos sainz x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#george russel x reader#max verstappen x reader#daniel riccardo x reader
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blood moon â t.n. & m.r. part 1
pairing: dark!theodore nott x fem!reader x dark!mattheo riddle. (mattheo makes his appearance in pt2)
warnings: smut 18+, dubcon, breaking and entering, violence, blood, knives (cutting into skin), rough oral sex (m. receiving), mask kink, mentions of murder, swearing
word count: 4k
summary: purge nightâ a night youâve feared all year despite coming from a rich and powerful family. but when six masked men show up at your door, are you really as safe as you thought?
the purge au⊠moodboard. nav. more.
âThis is not a test, this is your Emergency Broadcast System. Announcing the commencement of the annual purge sanctioned by the Government. Weapons of class four and lower have been authorised for use during the purge; all other weapons are restricted. Commencing at the siren, any and all crime (including murder) will be legal for 12 continuous hours. Police, fire, and Emergency Medical services will be unavailable until tomorrow morning at 7:00 a.m, when the purge concludes. Blessed be our new founding fathersââ
âBlah, blah, blah⊠we get it. Same shit every year.â Pansy sighed dramatically through the phone, her tone dripping with annoyance. You could tell she was rolling her eyes, and you didnât need to see her to know she was slouched lazily somewhere.Â
Not much later, the ominous, bone-chilling sirens blared violently through the entire city, blasting through the walls and echoing in the still-empty streets. The all so familiar sound never failed to give you goosebumps all over your stiffened body, instantly raising your heartbeat. You briefly closed your eyes, trying to steady your racing heart as you struggled to control your shaky breathing.Â
âHellooo? Are you still there or have you been murdered already?â Pansy joked with a taunting laugh. Your eyes snapped open, her static-filled voice dragging you back to reality, and her humorous tone nearly making you forget the reality of this cruel night.Â
Because it wasnât just any regular nightâ it was Purge Night. The one night youâd been dreading all year, every year, in which all crime becomes legal for twelve long hours. Logically, you were well aware that you had nothing to fear. Your parents were successful entrepreneurs with plenty of money to afford the most advanced security equipment, keeping you safe from any outside danger.
Yes, to protect you, and only you. Not themâ they were out at a purge party, the details of which you didnât even want to know, shamelessly networking with other high-profile elites while the poor were brutally murdered in the streets surrounding them. Everything about this night gave you a sickening feeling in your stomach. But of course, you knew it would be fine. All you had to do was surviveâ survive in your mansion, surrounded by unbreachable security. Nothing was going to happen.Â
âYeah, yeah, very funny.â you responded, your voice tinged with irritation as you hurried from your bedroom down the wooden stairs to the security room, figuring that if you could check the cameras around the house, it might calm you down a bit. You couldnât shake the feeling of needing to tiptoe carefully down each step, as though someone might hear youâ which was ridiculous, considering how large and heavily secured the house was.Â
The eerily quiet house was broken by the first distant, chilling screams of pure terror from outside, making you grimace as you opened the creaky door to the small room, your eyes instantly squinting at the many bright screens that made your eyes burn.Â
âItâs just⊠I hope this night will be over soon, thatâs all.â you continued, one hand holding the phone close to your ear while your eyes fleetingly scanned over the security cameras, which were strategically placed to cover every corner outside the house.Â
âOh please, donât be such a scaredy-cat! Every year it goes just fine, so this year will be no different. When has anythingâŠâ Pansy chattered in her usual attempt to comfort you, completely unaware that her words were only doing the opposite, when her voice slowly faded away into the background and your eyes narrowed at one of the top-right screens, which was focused on your front door. What the fuck?
With your heart nearly pounding out of your chest and your hand shakily gripping the phone, you inched closer to the screen, moving as slowly as possible, almost as if the slowness would somehow alter the nightmare playing out before you. A sudden coldness washed over you, your eyes rapidly blinking. No, no, no⊠this canât be happening.Â
On the pixelated, dark screen, you saw six masked men standing in front of your door, their heads tilted as they stared right at the cameras. You felt lightheaded, your left hand reaching up to lightly clasp your throat, the panic threatening to overwhelm you once you noticed the various weapons they were holdingâ baseball bats, knives, axes, and god knows what else.
âPâpansy⊠I, uh⊠there are people standing in front of my doorâŠâ you stammered shakily, still staring at the screen, your body frozen in place with your hand gripping the phone so tightly that your knuckles turned white and your breathing became ragged and uneven.Â
âOh, theyâre probably just trying to scare you, babe. I mean, come on, they canât even come in for fuckâs sake!â she let out a mocking laugh as the chaotic thoughts in your head raced a hundred miles an hour, leaving you paralysed with uncertainty.Â
âPansy, what the fuâ you know what? Forget it.â you snapped, your trembling fingers tapping frantically at the screen before finally ending the call, frustrated at not being taken seriously by your best friendâ though, to be fair, when had she ever?Â
You hastily slipped your phone into your back pocket, already dreading the snarky text she was sure to send you for ending the call, before shifting your attention back to the screen. One of the men removed his mask, prompting you to move even closer with narrowed eyes, your forehead nearly touching the cold glass.Â
âGood evening.â he called out in a stoic, chilling voice, his shiny black hair neatly styled, and his stance tall, commanding and unmistakably intimidating.Â
âSorry to bother you at this ungodly hour, but let me kindly introduce myself. My name is Tom, and these guysâ they are my friends.â The scene you were intently staring at filled you with pure terrorâ this unknown man named Tom, surrounded by men in masks, each carrying weapons that could easily kill you, weapons that were already completely soaked in blood, the dark droplets dripping ominously onto your front porch.Â
âThis can go one of two ways; you simply let us in, and we will stealâ sorry, I mean take whatever we desire, and then, we leave! OrâŠÂ we can do this the hard way. But I can assure you, you will not survive the latter.â His tone was almost amused as he finished speaking, and through the grainy pixels, you could see a controlled, sinister smile spreading across his pale face.Â
âDo not think you are invincible. We can enter any home we want. And we will want, as wanting is our will on this fine purge night. Do not force us to hurt you.â
His menacing words sent tingles across your skin, all the muscles in your body tightening. And for a good ten minutes, they did nothing but stand there, staring straight into the camera, waitingâexpectingâfor you to open the door for them.Â
It was a chilling sight. Almost as if you were staring at a photograph, the men stood completely still, their blood-covered hands tightly gripping their equally blood-soaked weapons, knowing your blood would be next to splatter across them, mixing with that of other poor, helpless victims.Â
When they realised you werenât going to open the door, Tom gave his men a quick signal, waving his finger in the air, which caused you to cock your head in both curiosity and unease.
âAlright then.â He said, the sinister smile on his face growing wider. But it was fine. You knew they couldnât come inside anyway. Your house was so securely protected, there was no way they could come in andâ Is that a fucking blowtorch?Â
âYes, we are prepared. And youâ oh, you chose the wrong option.â Tom coldly stated as if he could read your mind, dragging the words in a chilling tone. Two of his men quickly got to work, the blowtorch slowly cutting through the thick metal doors, meanwhile, Tom continued to stare directly at the camera, his evil, dark smile never faltering, his soulless eyes not blinking once.
âOh, fuck, fuck, fuck.â This was when real panic set in, your eyes flickering with pure terror as you slowly backed away from the screens, gripping whatever furniture was nearby to steady yourself. You hurried out of the room, realising this was the time to hide.
Quickly but silently running up the stairs again, you heard the agonising sound of the blowtorch cutting through the metal, sending shivers all over your body and urging you to move faster.Â
You burst into your room, breathless, slamming the door behind you and you panickedly scanned the small space, frantically searching for the best hiding spot. There werenât many options, but the closet seemed like your only chance, so without hesitation, you flung the door open, stepped inside, and crouched down, wrapping your trembling arms tightly around your knees.Â
âItâll be fine, itâll be fine, itâll be fine.â You kept repeating to yourself in a quiet, trembling voice, desperately trying to gaslight yourself into believing it. But who the fuck are you kidding? They were inevitably coming in, and then⊠well, you didnât even want to think about it.
You gasped loudly at the sudden sound of a loud bang, followed by distant voices and approaching footsteps downstairs. Nibbling on your bottom lip and one hand clutching your throat, you struggled to calm your ragged breathing, but hoping to make out the conversation happening downstairsâ although you werenât even sure if you wanted to hear it in the first place.Â
âWe are coming, aha! And we will find you, you little fucking bitchâ an unfamiliar voice taunted from down the stairs followed by a menacing laugh, clearly relishing the undeniable fear they were instilling in you as the footsteps and faint chatter grew louder with every passing second.
âMattheo, control yourself. Search for the girl downstairs, and Theo, you check upstairs. The rest of us will take whatever is valuable and leave for the next house.â You heared Tom instruct two of his men, his voice stern and cold, before adding, âOh, and whatever you do, make it as painful as possible. I want her to suffer.âÂ
Goosebumps covered your entire body hearing the chilling words, and you could tell that these guys didnât fuck around. Everything about them was incredibly organised and prepared. This wasnât their first time purging. No, they knew exactly what they were doing.
Heavy, resolute footsteps then made their way up the stairs, each deep step resonating through the house, making the silence feel like it was closing it. Theo. There was no way out of this. The only thing you could do was pray that he wouldnât find you. But deep down, you knew he would.Â
âYou canât hide from me, piccola.â a deep, husky voice teased, his voice slightly muffled by the mask he wore. It surprised you to hear a foreign accentâ Italian, you guessed. And fuck, you could punch yourself in the face right now for finding it⊠hot.Â
The steps grew louder, tantalisingly slow, until his footsteps reached your room. Your hand flew to your mouth to keep yourself quiet, your brows furrowed as you squeezed your eyes shut, focusing on steadying your breath. Your heart beat out of your chest, and you worried it was beating loud enough for him to hear.Â
Then it was quiet. No sounds. You swallowed, your mouth feeling dry with tears brimming at your waterline, and you gasped when you suddenly heard his voice so close to you. Thank fucking god you still had your mouth covered.Â
âYouâre here, arenât you?â He said in a dark, knowing manner, and the only thing you could do at this very moment was repeat âplease donât find meâ in your head while only hoping your death would be less painful than Tom had ordered it to be. âI know you are...âÂ
The closet door then abruptly swung open, causing you to let out a loud, surprised gasp. The tears you had so desperately tried to suppress now uncontrollably streamed down your cheeks as your head shot up. Soft ânoâs slipped from your lips when he grabbed you by the arm and aggressively pulled you out of the closet, the words barely audible and you panickedly shook your head, feeling lightheaded due to pure fear.Â
âShut up, cazzo.â he muttered irritably as he threw you on your bed with exasperated aggression. And you immediately compliedâ not only because he asked you to, but because you didnât want Matthew to hear you, knowing that Theo had found you, worried of what he might do to you. Matthew⊠Was his name even Matthew?Â
He stood still before you, and for the first time, you took him in, scanning him from head to toe as his imposing, tall frame loomed over you, casting a shadow over where you sat on the bed.
A white mask fully covered his face, and in his right hand, he held a bloody, sharp knife, causing you to gulp in fear. Oh, he looked fucking terrifyingâ but there was something else, something other than fear deep inside of you. A feeling you desperately tried to suppress. A feeling you felt ashamed to feel. A feeling you could not bring yourself to admit.Â
âHuh.â he commented, his head tilting slightly to the left. âTom didnât tell me you were such a pretty little thing.â he reached his hand out, his thumb brushing over your cheek, causing you to instinctively pull away, stiffening under his touch.Â
âCosĂŹ carina.â he chuckled mockingly, and your eyes were drawn to his hand that was expertly spinning the knife. His other hand then abruptly gripped your hair, making you gasp, and he slightly tilted your head to expose your neck.Â
From your peripheral vision, you could see the bloody knife drawing closer to your neck, making you instantly shut your eyes with furrowed brows, knowing this was it.Â
âCanât wait to see these white sheets turn red.â Theo taunted, but you were shaking, crying and nervously biting down on your lip so hard that blood welled up, waiting for the moment you finally felt the sharp knife against your delicate skin.
And then you did. You felt the cold blade lightly dig into the skin of your neck, the sharp, stinging sensation causing you to tightly grip the sheets, followed by fresh, crimson droplets of blood slowly trickling down your skinâ but then he stopped.
âHm. You know what, bella?â Theo paused for a moment, crouching down to get on eye level with you. The closer he got to you, the faster your heart raced, your whole body heating up with a mix of fear and something else. The deep sense of guilt you felt for feeling⊠this way gnawed at you from the inside.Â
âI might just have other plans for you.â Your head snapped toward him, and you hissed at the fresh cut stretching open, your hand instinctively reaching to the wound, carefully dabbing your fingers on the blood still trickling out.
âYou wanna live?â He questioned, and you reluctantly nodded, still unable to shake off the feeling of unease, even as a slight sense of reliefâor maybe hopeâ began to grow inside of you.Â
âThen I advise you to get on your knees before I change my mind.â You blinked rapidly, unsure if you heard him correctly. Surely not.Â
âIâ what?â You stammered, breathing in so fast you nearly choked on air as your heart pounded out of your chest.Â
âOh, you heard me.â He rose to his feet, and your eyes intently followed his every movement. The way the moonlight seeped through the blinds illuminated him, and for the first time, you could clearly see his ocean-blue eyes gazing down at you with intense focusâ the only feature of his face that was visible through the mask.Â
He reached the knife out again, causing you to flinch, but this time he pressed it under your chin to lift your head, the pointy end digging into your soft skin.
âYou donât think I noticed?â he began, and you sat frozen, knowing that a single movement would press the knife deep into your skin.Â
âYou donât think I noticed the way you looked at me with those pretty eyes?â You raised an eyebrow in puzzlement, unsure of what he was hinting at, and you absolutely hated thisâ the vagueness of his words. You hated having to guess what he meant. It made you anxious.Â
âI have purged a lot of people, bella. And there is one thing aaall of them have in commonâ they all have this same, fearful look in their eyes.â he continued, and it made you wonder what he saw in yours.Â
âBut you⊠cazzo. With you, I see something else sparkling in those pupils.â The way the mask muffled his voice made you unconsciously lean in closer to hear him better, and he did the same, but for an entirely different reason, until you were merely inches apart. It was a strange observation to make in such a moment like this, but oddly enough, he smelt nice, very nice. A pleasant, musky cologne with the undertone of cigarettes filled your senses.Â
âWith you I see⊠lust, yearning, desperation.â he whispered into your ear, the knife digging deeper into your skin, yet still not deep enough to draw blood. Your eyes shot wide open before locking with his, and you felt caught. He hit the hammer right on the nail.Â
âGo on, tell me Iâm fuckinâ wrong.â but you couldnât. You couldnât tell him he was wrong. Because he wasnât. Your eyes darted nervously around the room, unable to meet those intense, piercing eyes as the ache between your legs only grew stronger.Â
âYeah⊠thatâs what I thought. Bet your panties are soaked already, arenât they?â you heard a muffled, condescending chuckle coming from under his mask as he slowly twisted the knife under your chin. You so desperately wanted to bite back, to defend yourself, to tell him that he was being ridiculousâ but the words were stuck in your throat.
âSo⊠back to where we were.â he growled as he unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down, suddenly remembering Matthew wandering around downstairs and being able to walk in at any time, causing him to rush.Â
âCâmon sweetheart. I need to feel those pretty lips wrapped around me if you want to live, aâight? If Mattheo finds us, itâs over for you.â Ohhhh, Mattheo⊠right, right.
You hesitantly walked over to him before getting on your knees right in front of himâ right in front of his already hard erection trapped in his boxers, desperately wanting to escape as the tip formed a wet patch of precum on the fabric.Â
âWell⊠you know I could just kick you in the balls right now and run away?â There it finally wasâ the words that had been stuck in your throat, and the boldness inside of you that had finally come free. It was that unexpectedly tender demeanour of his emerging in brief moments, causing you to see him in a humane light, which stilled your fears.Â
He scoffed before aggressively gripping your hair and pulling your head back, causing you to hiss at the fresh wound on your neck stinging at the movement. He drew closer to you before suddenly holding the knife to your throat again, the softness youâd glimpsed earlier vanishing in an instant.
âOh yeah? You donât think Iâm gonna find you and cut you open? Go for it. Give it a try. Letâs see how that ends.â he warned in a low, menacing tone, your brows furrowing as you clenched your teeth, staring right into his narrowed eyes.Â
âActing as if you arenât practically begging to suck me off right now, tsk. Hurry the fuck up.â he ordered in a harsh tone, abruptly letting go of your hair and retracting the knife from your throat.
Realising you had no other choice but to follow his orders, you stared up at his masked face, before your gaze fell on his boxers. You could tell he was big just from the imprint through the thin fabricâ oh, there was no doubt in that. Reluctantly, you drew your head closer to his crotch, teasingly using your teeth to pull the waistband of his boxers down before slowly sliding them off.Â
âSee, I knew you were a fucking slut.â he growled, his amusement evident as his erection sprang free against his toned abs, precum glistening at the tip. Oh, well fuck. He was indeed huge, causing your eyes to widen momentarily as you swallowed hard. You glanced back up at him one more time, and he gave you a sharp nod, his hand on the back of your head pressing insistently, urging you closer.Â
Your head slowly inched closer to his intimidatingly large cock, and you started with placing soft kitten licks on the tip, tasting the salty precum, when suddenly a mischievous smile began to curve your glossed lips. In one swift, unexpected motion, you wrapped your mouth around his throbbing length, firmly pressing your teeth into the skin while at the same time your hand darted to his balls, your sharp nails digging deep into the sensitive flesh.Â
âThat fuckinâ hurts, you bitch. Cazzo!â Theo cursed, aggressively pushing you back until you hit the bed, yet the same mischievous smile on your face only widened. It confused him how the terrified, weak girl he saw earlier had transformed into⊠this.Â
âDidnât expect you to be such a fucking pussy.â you challenged him, fire burning in your eyes. Not because you wanted to die, but because deep down you knew you werenât going to. If he wanted to kill you, he wouldâve done that already. With the precum leaking from his painfully hard erection right in front of you, you knew the only thing on his mind was finding his release. He was a man after allâ simple, driven by his desires.
âYou better shut that little mouthââÂ
âOr what? You're gonna threaten me again with that stupid little knifeââ before you could even finish your sentence, he grabbed you by the hair, yanking you roughly towards him, his cock forcing its way into your mouth. The tip hit the back of your throat instantly, triggering your gag reflex as you struggled to breathe around his thick, aching erection. He quickly set a brutal rhythm, bucking his hips aggressively into your mouth, and you felt your eyes well with tears, saliva running down your chin.Â
âIf you stop, Iâll make you fucking regret it.â His hand gripped your hair in a tight ponytail, pulling you to meet his thrusts as he relentlessly fucked your mouth. Gagging sounds filled the room as he forced your head down as far as possible, groaning at the sight beneath himâ a sight that could so easily make him come already.
âYou wanted this from the start, huh? Such a patheticââ Theoâs sentence was then abruptly cut off when the door suddenly swung open and slammed against the wall, causing you both to freeze and stare, wide-eyed and horrified. A chill ran down your spine as you noticed another masked man standing in the doorway, holding a blood-soaked baseball bat while casually leaning against the doorframe. Oh no. Â
âWell, well, well⊠look what we have here. You really thought I wouldnât find out, Theodore? How cute.âÂ
Mattheo.Â
reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! âĄ
a/n: thank you sm for reading ^_^!!!!!!! this was supposed to be one long fic but i decided to cut in into two (or maybe more if needed) parts! im not sure when the next part will be posted but ill try to work on it soon !!! <3
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#â„ ariâs works#the purge au#mattheodore#theodore nott#theo nott#mattheo riddle#theodore nott smut#theo nott smut#mattheo riddle smut#theodore nott x reader#theo nott x reader#mattheo riddle x reader#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfic#theodore nott fic#theodore nott fanfiction#theo nott imagine#theo nott fanfic#theo nott fic#theo nott fanfiction#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle fanfiction#mattheo riddle fic#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theo nott x female reader#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle x fem!reader#slytherin boys#slytherin boys smut
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ă
€ Â Â Â Â ă
€       â êâ đčâ â Śâ â ÖŽâ worthless talking â ÖŒ ֌  â§
Arguments with various characters
S1! jinx , S2! vi , S2! caitlyn , and ekko x fem! reader
arguing , mention of having a crush ( vi ) , hurt/no comfort , cursing , mentions of marriage ( caitlyn ) , drinking ( vi ) , mention of reader working in the brothel ( not prostitute ( vi ) ) , suspected cheating ( caitlyn ) , injured reader ( ekko )
not proofread or requested
JINX
arguments with her are usually light and can easily be dismissed or solved quickly but this is very different. silco has been pressuring her as of late about her weapon for the hex gemstone; which has been stressing her out and getting more irritated by everything little thing. âjinx baby?â you spoke softly, trying to not make her anymore irritated. âyes toots?â she frantically looking back and forth at her parts and blueprints for her fishbones, âare you doing okay? do you eat?â
she shrugged her shoulders, continuing to screw the screws in. you silently gulped and walked closer to her. âlisten babyâŠcan you take a break or something? i donât remember the last time you slept or even eat andââ âshut up.â you immediately looked her way like you misheard her. âi-im sorry what..?â she kissed her teeth, â i said shut up! all you ever do is nag and nag around me! do ever shut up? iâm trying to work so i can hurry up and finish this project, but no you just canât seem to leave me alone while youâreââ she stops mid sentence, looking to see where you were last standing, ây/n?â she asked to absolutely nothing. she rolled her eyes, not bothering to think about you anymore, too focused on the hexgem project.
walking through the streets of Zaun, tears blurring your vision as you do your best to wipe them away but if anything you made your mind clear as day in Piltover; she doesnât need you there anymore. continuing to walk through the lanes until you reached your home.
VI
pitfights. you hate noâloath them. so imagine your reaction to hearing that your crush becamea pitfighter after that massive fall out with the stupid top side girl. you watched as a friend of hers drag her up the stairs then she starts pushing him off and telling him to fuck off. you watch as the friend just walked away; already tired of her bullshit.
you breathe, mentally preparing yourself and your lecture of what you want to say as you head up the stairs slowly until you reached the door. out of curiosity, you reached for the doorknob, and its unlocked. âof course this idiot wouldnât lock the door.â you thought, twisting it and slowly pushing the door, seeing vi collapsed on the bed but still awake. you clear your throat loudly, catching her attention as you stand close to the now closed door. âvi.â your voice cautious but fed up. watching her destroy herself over a top side is so pathetic, even jinx powder would laugh in her face. vi groaned tiredly, âcanât seem to catch a fucking break anymore.â
âfuck a break! what do you think youâre doing?!â you wave your hand around, as you often talk with your hands. âwhat the hell are you talking aboutâŠ!?â vi retorted back. âlook around you vi, and your hair! your outfit! youâre a damn pitfighter.â you pointed at everything you mentioned, âwhy?! is it because of that fall out you had with that stupid top side girl..?!â vi abruptly gets up and stands in front of you. the smell of strong beer and whiskey clog your nose, in her breath, her clothes, everywhere, âdonât you dare bring her up.â you scoffed, âwhy not? she treats you like shit but now youâre a floor licking puppy for her..?â you stare at her, raised eyebrow, âat least she was better than you in many ways than one.â âexcuse me?â âget the fuck out y/n. go back to being a fucking prostitute or something.â âiâm not a prostiââ she punched the wall next to your head, you flinch, hard. âout.â her voice threatening. your hands and feet quickly move as you open the door and fumble out of the apartment was vi was was.
CAITLYN
a lot has happened in a short amount of time, well, caitlyn proposed to you, then jinx blew up the council and killed her mother, then your fiancĂ©e became a damn Dictator and has been worked and training nonstop with Ambessa, and youâre starting to worry. she has been looking burned out a lot more and tired to even notice you sitting next to her on her desk as she stresses over paperwork.
âdear?â you twirled your finger around her loose hair. she jumps a bit, snapping out her thoughts and looking up to see her fiancĂ©e, you, âsorry darling, do you need something?â she fidgets with her pen and fingers, you smile at her weakly, âyour dinner is cold.â you point to the cold dinner plate, nothing eaten on the side table next to her. caitlyn sighs heavily. âright, i apologize my dear, illâŠmake sure to eat.â âthis is the fourth time dear. you canât be a commander with zero energy.â you cross your arms over your chest, âi know know iâm justâ âiâm starting to think ambessa was a bad idea again. i worried about all this pressure and process. like especially after your mother died, this isnât good..â caitlynâs fist banged against the desk, stopping you mid sentence.
âi donât need your pity or concerns right now.â you stare at her, confused. âwhat are you talking about right now dear?â âiâm saying you talk too damn much.â she stood up, the chair scratches against the floor and walks away from the desk, âwhere are you going?â you asked while sliding off the desk, âout. i need some fresh air.â you tilt your head to the side and keep your arms crossed, âfresh air? or maddie?â the blued hair commander stopped dead in her tracks, âwhatâŠwhat did you just say?â you scoffed, as you walked past her, bumping her shoulder. you open the door, revealing maddie with paper works in her hands, âiâll take my leave.â
EKKO
patrolling the area around the safe area, but your mind consumed with the thoughts of your boyfriend, heâs starting to overworking again. and thatâs pissing you off. months of you guys dating and he still doesnât get the memo. you sat on top of the tunnel entrance towards the hideout. staring up at the stars, wishing ekko was here with you.
suddenly, you feel a long cold metal jabbed into your side. you immediately clutch it to stop it from entering further until the culprit kicked you in the back, causing you to roll off the top and your body thudding against the cold concrete then you saw black. you wake up, the knife removed and youâre wrapped in bandages around your stomach and your arm is in a cast. your eyes adjust to the light shining down upon you, you wince as a headache rises and you hear muffled sounds of someone screaming your name. once your mind finally adjusts to everything, you hear ekko,
âhey hey hey! firebug! what happened?â his hands placing everywhere patting you down. you wince again, âekkoâŠthat hurts..â you fully open your eyes. âwhat happened? why did someone find you outside of the base, bleeding out?â he raised his voice, not scary but scared. âiâŠi was patrolling around the entrance andââ âpatrolling? didnât i say youâre not allowed to patrol unless iâm there?â his voice switch to low. âi can take care of myself ekko.â he gritted his teeth, âwell clearly you can not! look at you now! you donât ever listen huh?â he started pacing back and forth, âitâs like youâre deaf or something, i said no! and you do the entire fucking opposite!â he grabs his mask and hoverboard, stops to say something but rejected that idea and just left.
ekko was so hard to do ngl cause what has he done for to cause an argumentđ§ââïžand you notice how short-ish jinx is? yea cause i can never actually be mad at jinx.
Â©ïž A M A T E R A S U. all rights reserved. please don't plazarize, copy, or steal any of my works without my permission, thank you !
#â â â â â â â â â â đČàŁȘ ÖŽÖ¶Öž ïžÖŽÖ¶Öž amastarxoxo đ€ .#â â â â â â â â â â â Ë works ê°ê°â ââ ê±ê±#arcane x y/n#arcane x you#arcane x reader#arcane jinx#arcane vi#arcane ekko#arcane caitlyn#jinx x reader#jinx x y/n#jinx x you#vi x reader#vi x you#vi x y/n#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn x you#caitlyn x y/n#ekko x reader#ekko x you#ekko x y/n#jinx x fem!reader#vi x fem reader#caitlyn x fem reader#ekko x fem!reader
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âïž scared freshmen chan x reader.
prompt: "helping a scared freshman despite also being a scared freshman." ⶠpart of my svt university milestone event
‿ fluff, cute & clingy!chan, slice-of-life. more content under the cut. âĄâžâž prompt from @wollycobbl3-blr!
dino's declassified uni survival guide .á
survival guide to: making friends
attend the freshman year orientation event, no matter how lame you think it may be. sit through the whole thing. make small talk with your seatmate. when they assign you a 'buddy', jump at the chance of morally obligated friendship.
fuck trying to be cool and chill. 'be yourself' is painfully cliche advice, but they were on to something. what's the point of trying to act nonchalant or putting your best foot forward? be yourself, and you'll find the people who can appreciate that.
go to the school events. recruitment week? check. pep rally? check. going alone is alright. going with your orientation-sanctioned friend is preferable. the two of you can sit through the whole thing judging other students and making comments about the performances. maybe you can make more friends by chatting up the other students around you, but, honestly? each other is plenty fine.
survival guide to: getting around
have a copy of the school map saved on your phone. keep it in your favorites folder. that way, you don't have to stop at those blown-up maps at every corner or so.
test out the advice of your peers. sometimes, their advice is just a little more reliableâ they're coming from places of experience, after all. take, for example, the recommendations from your orientation buddy. take their suggestions to heart. the cafeteria they think is best, the coffee order they swear by. very serious business.
you'll eventually get a little more familiar with the ins and outs of campus. you'll carve out your own spaces and make your own set of friends. if some people eventually fall out with you, that's fine. if you still take a wrong turn every so often, that's fine, too. keep in touch with the people that you really do like. and don't panic about getting lost. sometimes, taking the wrong turn can lead to some pretty exciting stuff.
survival guide to: ... falling in love?
the turn of feeling something for your first friend at uni isn't exactly what i was referring to, but it is what it is. my initial advice still stands: come as you are. if you've always been a little annoying, if you don't know how to shut up and you're shameless in your affections, then keep that up. why be someone who you're not? what if they fall in love with that charade instead of who you really are?
some differences may be warranted, especially if you want to progress the relationship further. friends to lovers is a little complicated; the lines, tending to blur. flirt. or: attempt to flirt. remind them of how attractive you are. find ways to be around them, whether it's heading out for a beer or 'running' into them after their last class of the day. gifts are okay, but don't overdo it. maybe find some occasion for it, in case they ask why.
it's terrifying. being a freshman. making friends. falling in love [with a friend]. and yet i keep going back to yet another clichĂ©: just because you feel fear, doesn't mean you can't do it. do it afraid. do it scared shitless. walk them home. give them the flowers. package the confession in a joke, if you must, but confess. put your heart in their hands and trust that it will be safe, there. that the gamble will pay off. that youâ maybe, just maybeâ will be loved right back.
survival guide to: dating
tba. i'm still figuring this one out. :-)
written by lee chan (2024).
#dino x reader#dino smau#dino fluff#lee chan x reader#svt smau#seventeen smau#svt x reader#seventeen x reader#svt fluff#seventeen fluff#svt imagines#ââ á”ᔠ⊠mine#ââ á”ᔠ⊠milestone event: svt uni#[ he's just a guy :) my guy :) ]#[ the hc format gives out too much of my age i Fear ]#[ also i forgot svt uni was the whole Thing. so i've ripped right off yonsei ]#[ let's close our eyes to that shall we.......... ]
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UNMATCHED II.
A/N: soooo you guys were just as horny for a part 2 to this story as i was so here we are, giving in to the temptation. disclaimer, i know their behavior is giving red flag energy but lets just put that aside for the sake of the story now lol
WORD COUNT: 3.8k
WARNING: sexual content, age gap, student-professor relationship
SUMMARY:Â Harry has been trying his best to forget what happened with Y/N, he is set on never making the same mistake, but it seems like fate has different plans for him.
PART 1 | MASTERLISTÂ |Â SUPPORT ME!
That skirt. That goddamned skirt. Thatâs gonna be the death of Harry.Â
And also the fact that she went back to that asshole.Â
Sitting in the busy school cafeteria Harry has zoned out of the conversation at the table a long time ago, precisely when he saw Y/N stroll in wearing that short skirt with that dickhead she should have ditched already or better, she shouldnât have even dated him in the first place. But now they are moving in the line with their group of friends and he has his hand on her waist and it keeps inching lower, just a few more inches and his hand could be slipping under her skirâ
âHarry? Hello?âÂ
Stella catches his attention and he is forced to move his focus back to his colleagues at the table.Â
âHuh? Sorry, what did you say?â He clears his throat and keeps his eyes on his half-eaten sandwich in front of him.Â
âWhatâs up with you? You havenât been your usual self lately.â
âJust⊠tired. Iâm behind with my research and have a bunch of papers to grade before winter break.â
âThe joys of being a teacher,â Stella chuckles. âDonât worry, itâll get better with time.â
âReally?â
âNo,â she smirks at him. âBut youâll care less.â
She soon returns to the conversation at the table and Harry finds himself looking for Y/N again. Thereâs no trace of her in the line, but he is quick to spot her at a table across the dining hall, sitting beside Dickhead who has an arm around her neck, keeping her close as he wants everyone to know that they are together.
And it irks Harry way more than it probably should.Â
Itâs been a little over a week since Stellaâs Christmas party and also that very heated and very wrong kiss he shared with Y/N. That weekend was like hell, he kept beating himself over and over about it, cursing himself out for being so stupid and reckless. He still has no idea what came over him that let him make out with a student, but he knew one thing for sure: it couldnât happen again.Â
So when Y/N walked into the classroom before his first lecture early on monday he didnât even let her speak before he got to the point.Â
âIt shouldnât have happened. Iâm so sorry for it, but I canât undo it now. I suggest letâs pretend nothing happened, itâs for the absolute best. No one can know about it and it will never happen again.â
She seemed taken aback by his outburst, but after a bit of hesitation she nodded.
âOkay. Nothing happened. It must have been the wine.â
âYes,â he agreed right away. âWe both drank more than we should have and made a mistake.â
She flinched at his last word, but didnât protest, only nodded, holding her textbooks tighter to her chest. She looked so sad, even disappointed that Harry almost wanted to take back what he just said, but he knew he couldnât.Â
âAre you⊠okay?â he dared to ask, but when she looked at him again, her eyes told nothing.Â
âIâm fine. Iâll see you in class, professor.â
And she was out of the classroom before he could say another word. In class she sat in the back and not even once did she look at him. He knows, because he kept looking at her.Â
Heâs been trying his best to get her out of his head, but with not much luck. Not when all he can think about is how soft her lips felt against his, how insanely good she tasted mixed with the coldness of the night, how amazingly she fit into his palm, the curve of her neck, back, waist and hips⊠and how badly he wants to experience it again even though itâs the worst possible idea.Â
Harry thinks he is going insane. Genuinely.Â
Heâs been burying himself into work, but his focus has been all over the place, so itâs been more like a waste of time. He is one of the last ones in the building today as well. Most professors left a long time ago, but the lights in Harryâs tiny office are still on as he is hunched over a stack of papers. When he has to read over the same line for the twentieth time he drops his pen with a tired groan and leans back in his chair. He takes his glasses off and rubs his eyes roughly, until he is practically seeing stars.Â
âFuck,â he huffs, staring at the papers that are still waiting to be graded. Checking the time on his phone he is surprised to see that itâs already past seven.
He stands from his chair and steps to the window. The campus looks quiet at this time, only a few students are walking towards the dorm thatâs next to the literature departmentâs building. Itâs a wednesday night, the semester ends next week so some lucky students who have no more exams left in the year have already left for the holidays. Harry will be going home right before Christmas, he plans to use those few days of the break to work on his research in peace.Â
From his window he sees part of the parking lot next to the dorm, itâs quite dark there, he almost doesnât notice the figures sitting in the car closest to him, but a few heartbeats later realization hits him.
Itâs Y/N and the dickhead.Â
They are pretty far, but Harry can tell that they are in a heated fight, judging from how Y/N is gesticulating. Obviously he canât hear them, but if he had to guess he would say she is shouting, from what he can see.Â
For a moment he tells him to just ignore the scene, itâs none of anyone elseâs business, let alone his. But when he sees the asshole slap his hands against the wheel several times, making Y/N jump, Harry is moving before he could second guess his actions.Â
He practically sprints down that stairs, already trying to figure out how heâll interject without appearing like a creep, but he forgets all his plans when he is marching towards the parking lot and sees the scene unfold from up close.Â
At some point they must have gotten out of the car, because Harry catches the dickhead getting back into the driving seat, Y/N is crying and tries to stop him from shutting the door, but he swings it with such force that she stumbles forward, holding onto the handle. When Harry sees her almost fall to the asphalt he starts running, just as the car comes to life and he drives away so fast, he almost runs over Y/Nâs feet.Â
âFuck you, Charlie! Fuck you!â She screams after the car, tears streaming down her cheeks.Â
âHey, hey, hey!â Harry rushes over to her, grabs her by her shoulders and turns her away from the direction of the car. âHey, what happened?â
She is gasping for air from the crying as she wraps her arms around her, those beautiful eyes that are usually filled with curiosity are now full of confusion and hurt.Â
âY/N, look at me,â he begs and she hiccups a few times before she finally looks him in the eyes.Â
âH-Harry?â
He ignores how good it feels to hear her call him by his first name again and tries to focus on the situation.
âYeah. Letâs get inside, okay? Itâs freezing cold.â
She nods and lets him steer her towards the building and up to his office. By the time she sits in the old armchair in the corner of his office she has stopped sobbing, but her expression looks just as miserable as before.Â
âIâll make you a tea. Do you like tea?â he asks, stepping over to the tiny side table where he keeps his kettle and tiny tea collection with two mugs. She nods and he is quick to turn on the kettle. He grabs a chamomile filter and drops it into one of the mugs and while the water boils he hands her a box of tissues that she accepts with a quietly murmured thank you.Â
When the tea is done he hands her the mug and sits in his chair, unsure what to say. He definitely did not plan to have her in his office anytime soon and definitely not like this.Â
âGo on, lecture me about being with him,â she says at last, staring into the mug in her hands.Â
âI wasnât planning on it.â
âBut youâd be right.â She looks up at him, eyes still red from the crying.Â
âWhy did you go back to him?â he softly asks, not wanting to make her feel even worse.Â
âI donât know,â she shrugs, looking away again. âHe could be convincing, I guess.â
âHope you wonât believe him after this.â
âNo,â she chuckles bitterly before taking a sip from the tea, leaning back in the armchair. âNot even the sex will convince me to go back to him.â
Harryâs muscles jump at her words. Not because he is such a prude, but because instantly he is thinking about sex⊠and her⊠and his body reacts involuntarily. Clearing his throat he crosses his legs and looks anywhere but at her.
âIâm sorry, I shouldnât have said that,â she chuckles softly, but she doesnât seem sorry at all.Â
âNo, I⊠umâŠâ Harry has no idea what to say. This feels like such an impossible situation, he is definitely walking on eggshells here and the fact that he is semi-hard does not help his case.Â
While he is looking for the right words she places her mug to his desk and crosses her legs, a curious look playing in her eyes as she is looking at him. She appears calm and confident suddenly, like she wasnât sobbing ten minutes ago.Â
âI lied,â she then speaks up.
âAbout what?â
âI know why I went back to him.â
âOh. Okay, why did you?â
She holds his gaze for one⊠two⊠three seconds before her lips part, then she hesitates for one more moment before answering.Â
âBecause I couldnât go to you.â
A shiver runs down his spine at her words, his body is betraying him already, but he hangs onto the last bit of his rationality.
âY/N, donât.â
âDonât what? Donât tell the truth?â
âWe agreed that we are not talking about it again.â
âIâm not talking about that night. Iâm talking about how badly Iâve been wanting you, but knowing I canât have you I went back to Charlie even though I knew I shouldnât have.âÂ
âY/NâŠâ His mouth is dry and he feels ridiculously hot even though the heating hasnât been working too well lately in his office. He is clawing at the arms of his chair, trying to keep the remains of his cool, though it feels like he is hanging on a thread.
âI wonât do anything about it, donât worry. And I wonât bring it up again.â She sounds different this time, the confidence has turned into what feels like disappointment and it lurches something in Harryâs gut.Â
Standing she smoothes her clothes before looking at Harry, a tiny sliver of expectancy glistening in her eyes.Â
âThanks for the tea. I better get going.â
She is already moving towards the door when Harry jumps to his feet, entirely lost about what to think, do or say. He strides after her and just when she is about to reach for the knob, he grabs her other hand, stopping her mid action.Â
But he has no idea why he just did that. His rationality is screaming at him, but with each passing moment he spends holding her hand, the noise gets farther and farther away until itâs lost somewhere in the back of his mind.Â
Slowly, she turns her head, eyes taking in the sight of their touching hands before her gaze meets his. He instantly stumbles back, letting go of her like she was on fire, but she doesnât seem surprised. Instead, she turns around and just stands there, with a calm, but determined look on her face.Â
âCareful professor,â she then speaks up. âI might take your actions as a hint.â
âA hintâŠâ he breathes out, almost mesmerized with her, he is convinced sheâs put a spell on him, because he canât move or think straight, he just keeps staring at her.
âYes, a hint,â she nods shortly. âThat you want me just as much as I want you.â
He swallows down a moan that almost slips through his lips at her words. His whole body is burning for her, palms sweating and itching to touch her and he can almost taste her on his tongue again, desperate to pick up from where they left off not long ago.Â
The tiniest smirk tugs on the corners of her mouth when she sees just how much he is struggling and she takes it as her queue to push her luck just a bit further. She takes a step closer to him, but still leaves some space between them, wanting him to close those last inches.Â
âYou know you can have me.â She cocks her head to the side, blinking up at him innocently. âRight here, on your desk or in that armchair. I want to be your good girl and take whatever you give me.â
âStop it,â he manages to breathe out, but all his strength is gone, it sounds more like a plea rather than an order.Â
âWhat if I donât?â she sassily questions. âWill you punish me?â
Harry whimpers. They both know he is close to breaking and she is not stepping down now and sheâs determined to push him over the edge. Slowly she reaches up, drags a finger across her lips before moving then down, tugging at her shirt at her chest, revealing more of the exposed skin there, then she starts playing with the top button, all while keeping her eyes focused on him. He sucks on his breath, his gaze keeps switching between her eyes and what her fingers are doing.Â
Then it pops open, revealing the delicious swell of her breasts and a bit of the lacy bra as well and he knows he is gone.Â
âClose the curtain,â he simply orders and a sudden rush of excitement washes over her as she quickly moves across the room, drawing the curtains on the window and turning around she is expecting him to be in the same spot, but to her surprise he is right there and before she could say a word, his lips crash down on hers with such force she would have fallen back if he didnât already have an arm around her waist.Â
His other hand is quick to find its way to her throat first, then to her jaw, angling her head perfectly so he can devour her.Â
He spins them around and she gasps when her ass meets the edge of his desk, still kissing her he pushes forward, blindly tossing everything on the desk aside to make room, something clatters as it falls to the ground but neither of them cares to even look. His hands are on the back of her legs and he helps her up until she is sitting on top of the desk.Â
She eagerly opens her thighs and circles her legs around his hips, pulling him closer and when she feels just how hard he already is, pushing against her clothed center, she canât help but moan at the sensation.Â
âItâs a one time thing,â he pants when her fingers start to work on his shirt and his hands find the button of her jeans.Â
âSure,â she breathes out smiling.
âJust to get it out of our system.â
âOf course,â she nods eagerly, and a moment later she is tugging his shirt off his shoulders.Â
Buttons come undone, clothes are thrown across the room and soon enough all of his focus is on her naked chest, his hands exploring the tender, heated skin before his head dips down and his mouth meets her hardened nipples.Â
âOh fuck,â she moans, head falling back as she has an arm around his shoulders, the other one planted behind her on the desk. All while his hands are tugging down her jeans, finally giving him the chance to touch her inner thighs, exploring the warmth and softness heâs been fantasizing about for so long.Â
He gently bites on one of her nipples, making her back arch, burying his face between her breasts before he leans back to get rid of her jeans. She has a moment to admire his naked torso, all the tattoos heâs been hiding under his clothes, his pants are hanging around his knees and his erection is throbbing through the fabric of his underwear. She canât help but smile at the sight, itâs surely one sheâll remember forever.
When her jeans are discarded on the floor he plants his hands on her thighs and pushes them wide open, revealing her drenched panties. He brings his thumb over the wet fabric, lazily drags it over her clit, making her tremble under his touch. Then keeping eye contact with her he pulls his chair under him, sits down and rolls closer so his face is perfectly lined up with her. With his eyes still locked on hers, he leans forward, moves her panties to the side and places a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to her throbbing clit, making her moan so loud, he digs his fingers into her thighs pulling back.Â
âYou need to be quiet,â he warns her and she just eagerly nods, watching him take her underwear off completely and go back to where he was a moment ago.Â
Harry drinks up her taste, he licks, kisses and sucks on the right spots, making her see stars as her orgasm is building up. When she feels two of his fingers slip into her she grabs a handful of his hair, tugging on it.Â
But right when she is about to tip over the edge he pulls back, leaving her in a heaving mess. Reaching into one of his drawers he grabs a condom and standing up he watches her lying on his desk, chest rapidly rising and falling while he rolls the condom on.Â
To his surprise, she gets up and jumps off the desk, taking the initiative by pushing him down back into the chair and straddling his lap. His hands are quick to move to her ass as his cock wedges between her drenched folds. He hisses when she starts rolling her hips, making them both even more feral for whatâs about to come.Â
She leans forward and kisses him, her hand reaching down between them until it finds his cock. She gives him a few lazy strokes to which he hums lowly into her mouth. Then she stops her kisses, lips still brushing against his, eyes meeting again as she lifts herself up just enough to angle him underneath her and then slowly she eases down, letting him enter her inch by inch until she is filled entirely. She gasps at the feeling of her walls stretching around him and they both stop for a few moments, just savoring how perfectly they fit together.Â
She plants both her hands to the base of his neck, kisses him again and starts moving her hips.Â
âFuck, Y/N, you feel so good,â he groans, locking his arms around her, fingers digging into her naked back and side as she starts to slowly pick up her pace, bouncing on him.Â
When he starts thrusting upwards, meeting her movements, her head rolls back from how deep she feels him inside her, his tip reaching the perfect spot.Â
âYes, right there!â she gasps as he buries his head in her neck, kissing and sucking on the soft skin while keeping his rhythm. âIâm so close,â she breathes out, her hands raking through his messy hair.Â
Wanting even more friction she adjusts herself and then starts moving faster and rougher, aching for the release. She looks down, her eyes meet his gaze and she just knows he is as close as she is.Â
âHarry,â she moans and hearing his name fall from her lips is what pushes him over the edge.
Grunting, his thrusts get rougher and fall out of their fast pace, he pushes into her over and over again as he fills the condom and watching him fall apart helps her let go as well. He feels her walls tighten around him while he is still riding out the afterwaves of his own orgasm, her mouth hangs open, nails digging into his shoulders so harshly they surely leave marks.Â
Then they both slowly come off their high and she leans forward, capturing his lips in a much softer kiss than the ones theyâve shared just minutes ago. He gladly returns, their lips melt together and his fingers gently roam her naked back while he is still inside her.Â
Theyâre quiet when she moves off him and grabs a few tissues to clean herself up while he discards the condom. The clothes are picked up from the floor one by one and a sense of unsureness settles between them as they both get dressed.Â
She was the only thing on his mind just five minutes ago, but now that the sex haze is gone, his thoughts start racing. What did he do? What will happen now? This shouldnât have happened but still, he wants to do it again and again and again.Â
As if she knew he was panicking inside, she steps to him, takes his face in her hands and pulls him into a long, passionate kiss that instantly makes him forget about everything else.Â
âDonât overthink it,â she whispers against his lips. âWeâre adults.â
âIâm your teacher,â he hums.
âThe semester is almost over. Grade my last paper and weâre done,â she simply says with very little care about his current status. But he is not that sold on it just yet, hesitation and worry is all over his face. âDid you not want it?â
âYou know how much I wanted it,â he admits defeatedly.Â
âGreat. I wanted it too. And I want it again. So Iâll come by tomorrow again. Youâll bend me over that desk after I had your cock in my mouth, then tell me what grade Iâm getting for the semester and we do it again after that.â
He is already feeling himself getting hard again. Deep down he knows he should say no, but he has no will left to fight with himself anymore. So all he does is nod and then kiss her.Â
âIâll see you tomorrow, professor.â She grabs her coat from the floor and then walks out of his office like nothing happened.Â
Harry falls into his chair and assesses the mess on and around his desk, staring at the spot where she was sitting not long ago. He knows he is making his biggest mistake ever, but sinning has never felt this good.
And right now he is willing to take this risk.
Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!
#harry#styles#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles oneshot#harry styles one shot#harry styles fluff#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x reader#harry styles blurb#harry styles smut
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Actually one more thing: shizun binghe accidentally getting hit with a love potion. Shen Yuan tries to save him but he's not fast enough so all that happens is that binghe gets hit AND shen yuan is the first person he sees, meaning the potion activates feelings for shen yuan
Binghe: I don't feel any different... I want to touch and hug and cuddle a-yuan but that's normal....
Shen Yuan: don't let the potion trick you shizun.. it will make your mind into think these feelings are really yours
Binghe: oh of course... it's the love potion making me think I've always loved a-yuan... well if I'm going to be in love, I might as well get to tease him!
A whole week of binghe making kissy faces at shen yuan, calling himself shen yuans wife after he makes dinner, etc etc.. shen yuan pushing binghe out of the bamboo house and telling him to follow up with the qian cao peak lord about the cure
Binghe: so have you found a cure? My disciple is very distressed about my love for him.. it's very cute
Qian Cao peak lord: I analyzed the bottle you gave me... it did not contain traces of a love potion. It was fruit flavoured water.
Binghe: ah. Hahaha. Hmm. This stays between us.
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It really is kinda awful how many job listings will just straight up lie to you about what you "need" to be able to do to screen out disabled applicants. Like fucking Safeway will be looking for a cashier and the listing is like "you ABSOLUTELY MUST be able to stand for 8+ hours a day, NO exceptions" as if you can't do everything required to run the check out line sitting down. Old Navy is like "you must be able to understand body language and facial expressions and make eye contact" like sorry dude I think autistic people can sell t-shirts just fine without doing all that, like honestly what the hell does understanding facial expressions have to do with telling someone where the clearance section is. Don't really think the customers at TJ Max are going to go full Purge mode if one employee can only perform a task requiring fine motor skills 15 times a minute instead of 30, like idk maybe you don't need the lines to move thst fast actually. Maybe everyone can chill out and wait a second. I think the people at Starbucks will be okay if the barista isn't great at multitasking and can't make small talk with every single customer while also running the drive through and making 15 different drinks.
It's such horseshit, none of these job require these things but they can just lie and say they do and disabled people will clear out because we know it's just a big neon sign saying "crippled freaks need not apply", even if that sentence is followed by some fake ass fluff about you being an equal opportunity employer. Like you would not be insisting your underpaid cashiers be able to "make eye contact and understand body language" if you cared about not discriminating against disabled people, that wording specifically is straight out of the DSM-5, what you're doing is fucking obvious and pure goddam evil.
The best part too is then you get denied for SSI benefits because you "can" work, they don't actually care that every single job listing is tailor made to tell us to fuck right off. The potential to be able to work and actually being able to be hired are too different things entirely but sure. I can work. If I find an employer that doesn't care that I'm in a wheelchair and can't make eye contact or life heavy objects or that I need to only work 4 hours a day so I still have the energy to take care of myself outside of work and also have to take 10 days a month off for doctor's appointments and unpredictable health flares. And also crucially does NOT require a fucking degree or drivers license. Find me a job like that that and I'd be overjoyed to work.
But trust me, jobs that can accommodate me simply do not fucking exist, and unfortunately for all of us that is very much by design.
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Ekko x Fem!Reader
content â arcane s2 spoilers!!, drabble/hc; fluff, some angst, Ekko is absolutely smitten for the reader, friends to lovers, suggestive *in very few areas
author's note â there's not enough drabbles/fics for Ekko and its pissing me awf. I must intervene.
wc â 0.974k
Ekko wasn't sure if he'd find anyone else after Jinx
He had no choice but to live without her, even after experiencing what could have been had things been different.
It ate at him, constantly, knowing what their lives could have been, but he loved his home enough to save it
After the Vigil, Ekko kept to himself for quite sometime
He remained with his Firelights, continuing to redevelop his haven after everything that occurred
Remaining occupied meant he didn't have enough time to sit and think about all that had unraveled the past few months
On the days he was left in solitude, he sketched and tried to remember the best parts, or how to move ahead
He'd reunite with Vi every now and again, but she was busy handling her own business with Caitlyn. The environment had changed, and it was hard to tell if it was for the best or the worst
He would travel to Piltover more frequently, but it was harder due to the memories it held, and he didn't see much of a point in staying outside of grabbing supplies
You met Ekko while on a supply run, stealing the last stock of bolts he needed. He was having an awful day when you ran into him, so his demeanor was one he wasn't sure he had in him
Despite this, you still offered to share your bolts, if he wasn't being an ass, and if he showed you what he was working on for him to be so frustrated with a stranger
He was careful not to yet invite you to the home that he shares with the Firelights
You were understanding of his skepticism and invited him to your workshop instead, just outside of Piltover, but not necessarily in the area of Zaun
The device he showed you felt far more valuable than what you had been working on. Despite its rickety condition, he spoke of it so passionately, and you could tell this craft was something he was passionate about
You invited him back, and you gave him the hours you would usually be here if he was ever comfortable returning
After your first encounter, you weren't sure if he'd be back, but it shockingly didn't take long for him to return
What became maybe once a week, turned to twice, and then frequent visits
You'd both would often go on runs together, and when Ekko wasn't with the Firelights, he found himself spending more time in Piltover, but mainly if you were involved in that exploration
The first night after you met, he didn't get much sleep. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had made him feel that way; It felt so instant, without hesitation or question
He would have called you an idiot for being so trusting to a stranger, but he felt like a fool for the emotions he was already experiencing.
It was hard for him to process how the chemistry you exude when together was automatic.
As time went on, he let his guard down around you, when he was around you, it all felt natural. A year had gone by without either of you noticing
The night, when the anniversary of the Mass Vigil was held, he stayed longer than you both had expected, a lingering tension between the two of you.
Even without talking, the lack of conversation made him feel vulnerableâ susceptible to questions he wasn't sure if he was ready to answer yet
The wounds were still so fresh, you had half the mind to not ask if he knew anyone that was lost in the war, but before you could ask, he went off into the night, leaving you to wallow in your own thoughts
Weeks had passed since you had seen him
These days, you don't hear much from Ekko. And even when you mourned his lack of presence, it hadn't taken much time before it started to anger you
Ekko had realized long ago that he had feelings for you. He often fought the urge to be defenseless around those he cared for most. He wasn't sure if that was possible with you until it was
He was so enamored with you and never missed a moment to brag to his colleagues about your brilliance
You reminded him so much of her, and you deserved to be your own person in his eyes. He feared that if this went any further, he'd try to create comparisons that weren't fair to either of you.
The more time you spent apart, he spent more time admiring the distinctions. The emotions you evoked from him felt foreign. He couldn't place a finger on it, but he wanted to explore it further
More weeks had passed before he showed up at your workshop, knocking at your door instead of climbing through the window like he used to. The change in behaviors made you pout a bit more than what was already plastered on your face
Ekko had revealed his creation, the device he had been working on for weeks. The bolts you had landed him were engraved with your initials
You sat him down, spending time to catch up. While you wanted to be mad, you weren't sure if the feelings you were experiencing were even mutual, until he made riddance of your doubts
He didn't make it back to the Firelights that night, spending the night wrapped and reveling in passion that had been festering itself. You had never been this intimate, the night filled with nervous laughs and mistakes, but it made him feel human again
The walls he had worked to build had swiftly crumbled whenever you came into the picture
There wasn't a thing he wouldn't do for you, and he'd fight just as hard to save you
No matter the universe
â turquoizxe
#ekko arcane#ekko#arcane s2#fanfic#fiction#writeblr#Spotify#arcane headcanon#fanfic writing#fanfic blog#arcane ekko#ekko x reader#ekko x you
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that was a fun one!! gotta love a dup of Highly Paranoid And Meticulous and Spontaneous With Balls Of Steel
#AND it's a murder mystery!#ngl the wishful thinking part of me was hoping the murderer is zevran xdd#it being emil wasnt surprising tbh but his motive/mindset was inchresting!#i love how viago and teia (and by extension all the talons) are people who Need To Be In Control At All Times#but they all go about it very differently#also love their different approaches to their jobs and different flavours of apathy#& obsessed with teia's specific brand of warped perception#laya reads tevinter nights#(guy (gn) btw jfkdsdfjl)
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Macaque spent the whole season Big-Damn-Hero-ing and was NOT happy about it xD
#lmk season 5 spoilers#lmk spoilers#lmk season 5#lego monkie kid#lmk#macaque#liu'er mihou#six eared macaque#sun wukong#monkey king#qi xiaotian#mk#li jing#anyone else find it interesting that in english the 'macaque' part of his name comes first#but in chinese the 'six-ears' part comes first? so the way he's called by name in the different dubs has slightly different vibes#i can't quantify 'em tho :/ am not a vibeologist#Macaque was this season's biggest GOAT#like he's very petty about it but he cares about mk and swk SO. MUCH.#(well ok the petty is mostly aimed at swk)#which: fair#POV: everything is going to shit and you are currently the only celestial monkey NOT being re-traumatized or gaslight by celestial beings#macaque's gonna start rolling up to beach parties with a shirt that says:#I Saved The Monkey King's Arse Several Times And All I Got Was An Almost-Hand-Holding-Moment And This Stupid Shirt#MK NOOOOOOOOO#im a fucking wreck that's their KID. he's their BOY. their little BRO HE'S THEIR KID OKAY AND THEY LOVE HIM ENOUGH TO FISTFIGHT THE GODS#which i guess is a little easier since they can win those fights actually#not explicitly shadowpeach#but oh it is there. lurking. waiting to strike#lion king reference! :D
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aww, iâm getting war flashbacks đ„°
this is both my most successful post on tumblr and my least favorite post of all time. simply because of how much pure hatred i got for it. i received sooo many asks and messages insulting me and telling me to get off the app. someone literally sent me an ask and told me to shoot myself. (that was fun!) it was before i was an experienced poster, and therefore didnât know how much i need to justify some statements
people were mad about two things:
1) that i implied that percy would drink. which i understand, because of gabe. and i can admit that yes, he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer and might not drink it. but also i think itâs ignorant to think we can predict percyâs behaviorâliterally one of his defining traits is being unpredictable. and oftentimes, the assumption relies on him associating drinking with bad people, but sally drinks wine on a daily basis and heâs completely good with it, so that idea doesnât really hold up. anyway, yeah, maybe percy wouldnât drink. i can totally see that. but also percy deserves to be a normal college kid and not let his past trauma define his potential experiences. if he was with annabeth and his friends, i can totally see him having a drink or two and letting loose. i just want him to be allowed to be a normal irresponsible teenager/young adult for once. sue me đ
2) i referred to him as a frat boy. and wow did that get taken out of context. which is definitely my fault, for not clarifying. i didnât mean heâs actually a frat boy, because obviously new rome isnât gonna have greek life lol. i also wasnât implying that heâs stupid or superficial or an asshole. i just said that because in heroes of olympus, when percy is around jason, thereâs a lot of sizing each other up, joking around, and heavy bromance going on. like i canât even count how often percy says âbroâ and âdude.â which is very frat boy. and i think if percy was in a college setting, not stressed or in near-death situations all the time, and around more people like jason, thereâs a good chance he would be a more fun and easy going person than what we often see. when percy is actually comfortable in his environment (which isnât often) he seems to be more extroverted. but idk maybe he would be shy? who knows. it was just a little thought
so anyway, definitely not my best-phrased post. i would do it differently, now. but its fun remembering how much pure anxiety this post filled me with as angry people rained down hell on me đ
imagine being someone at new rome university and not knowing percy is the same guy as âpercy jackson, son of poseidon, two-time hero of olympus, former praetorâ because the thought doesnât even cross your mind. like⊠heâs percy. heâs a total frat boy. on a normal night, he walks into a party, refers to everyone as bro or dude, socializes with every living (and not-living) person in the room, makes at least 50 sarcastic comments, plays 12 rounds of beer pong, drinks way too much, and then skates around campus on his skateboard yelling âI LOVE NEW YORKâ (which makes no sense, because theyâre in california) until someone calls his girlfriend to come get him.
and then one day thereâs an attack, and frat boy percy is all of a sudden a fighting machine. heâs yelling battle cries alongside the praetors frank zhang and hazel levesque as they lead everyone into battle. (why is he with the praetors? and whyâŠ. why in the world do the praetors seem to be following his lead?) his sword slashes through armies of monsters faster than youâve ever seen. heâs controlling the entire river surrounding the camp, creating huge waves as tall as skyscrapers that crash down all around him, wiping out monsters and causing mass destruction to his enemiesâ ranks. the sky is suddenly dark above you, ice-cold water droplets are slashing through the air, and the wind is blowing so aggressively that itâs making it hard to stand up steadily. because heâs somehow created a hurricane.
and he looks terrifying. you can feel the power radiating off of him. heâs like a god. or maybe a monster. itâs hard to tell. youâre a little scared of him, to be honest. but also in total awe, because itâs extraordinary. heâs extraordinary.
frat boy percy is not who you thought he was.
#iâm pretty sure someone told me to fall into tartarus too lol#it was awful then and i was INCREDIBLY stressed and upset#but now itâs a bit funny looking back#oh the joys of social media#gotta love it#percy jackson#pjo#pjo headcanons
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