#by being so much of a messy bitch that she did something than managed to make THE ENTIRE FAMILY HATE HER

[corvigae]

It will always greatly entertain me that I have an old abandoned TS3 save file simply called:

[celestiababie]

Nice Guys Finish First- L.SM

Pairings: Seokmin x fem! reader

Genre: Smut with plot, fluff, angsty bits

Warnings: cursing, seokmin is very insecure, mentions of shitty ex, dom/sub dynamics if you squit but overall no power dynamics, making out, seokmin is reallllly insecure, somewhat first times, oral (m rec, insinuated f rec), cum swallowing, praise, I think that's it? idk let me know

Word Count: 3.599k

Summary: After a first date with the sweetest man you've ever met, thanks to a mutual friend, you're more than willing to silence his doubts and show him how sexy he was to you.

A/N: I had so much fun writing this...this bss comeback made dk wreck me. This is mostly edited but my usual editing software I use was being a BITCH. I hope you guys enjoy this one and I would really appreciate feedback! Please don't be a silent reader!

"I had a g-good, no, a great time tonight!"

The slight stutter in Seokmin's voice sent a wave of embarrassment down his spine. But he managed to keep the blindingly bright smile on his face as he gazed into your eyes. The urge to crawl into a hole was strong, but his desire to make a good final impression was stronger.

When his friend, Jeonghan, said there was a girl he befriended at work that would be perfect for him…he understandably had doubts.

Despite being single for more than a year now, Seokmin could admit that he wasn't ready for mingling. His tender heart had not yet healed from the messy breakup he faced and blamed himself for. Blinded by a pair of love goggles, it seemed as if everyone but him could see what a shitty, manipulative person his ex-girlfriend was.

Seokmin was far too trusting and kind-hearted to a woman who acted as if she could barely stand him and his silly albeit charming personality. He couldn't bring himself to move on even if her harsh, discouraging words ruined his already non-existent self-confidence.

He wasn't ready.

Until Jeonghan invited you to his housewarming party, deciding to go a step further at playing cupid and introduced the two of you with a mischievous smirk on his face, knowing that Seokmin would fall head over heels and vice versa after a conversation and some liquid courage in your system.

And his efforts paid off.

Seokmin was left in complete bewilderment when you asked him for his number at the end of the night. And in even more shock when you asked him out on a date after a week of texting back and forth.

Maybe he couldn't see how much of a catch he was, but you sure as hell did.

"I had a great time too, and thank you for walking me up to my apartment. It's sweet of you..."

You take a step closer to Seokmin, throwing your arms around his neck and playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck as your eyes flicker down to his lips. You watch them part as his breath hitches, trying to keep calm even though your touch was making his heart race a mile a minute.

In his defense, it had been so long since a woman showed him affection in any capacity other than those who'd attempt to flirt with him, but he'd just brush off their gestures as being kind. But it would be hard to mistake your intentions with your eyes honed in on his lips, and your hands toying with his hair.

Seokmin swallowed hard, clearing his throat before speaking up in a hushed tone as if he was worried the walls of the hallway could listen.

"You don't have to thank me. I wanted to make sure you got in safe…and I didn't want to say goodbye yet," he finishes with a mumble, but you could hear him loud and clear.

His shy smile makes you bite your lip before you decide to take a leap of faith with your next set of words.

"Who said anything about saying goodbye? You could join me for a movie or something if you'd like," you whisper back.

You weren't one for inviting guys inside your place after a first date, definitely not with the intentions you had in mind. But, Seokmin's warm aura made you feel comfortable, and the compliments he gave during your date made you feel beautiful. He was nothing but a gentleman towards you tonight, and something about it was just downright sexy.

"A-a movie sounds great," he replies as he eagerly nods his head, more than happy to see you for a little longer.

Your eyes light up with lust that Seokmin mistakes for standard excitement before you turn away from him to grab your keys out of your bag.

You mentally curse at yourself for not wearing a matching set of underwear tonight as you turn the key in the lock but push the thought away once you step into your apartment.

You eye him expectedly, waiting for him to get the hint to step in, which he luckily gets after a few seconds, mumbling a 'sorry' under his breath.

"So what movie do you—mmph?"

The moment Seokmin shuts the door, you press him against it and capture his lips with his. Your hands slide down his chest through his white button-up, loving his warmth felt against your palms. His hands stayed by his side as he was stiff in shock, trying to decipher why you were kissing him like this, even though your touch was addictive.

It took you a few seconds to realize that he wasn't kissing back, and you immediately pulled away from him, eyes darting across his face to read for any signs of discomfort.

"Shit- are you not into this? Fuck- I'm so sorry," you scramble out, worried that you had scared him off with how forward you were.

Seokmin quickly shakes his head and finally remembers he does indeed have hands and cups your face in his large palms.

"No, no, no, don't be sorry. I'm just surprised, that's all. Just…really really surprised, but I liked it; a lot. I don't know why'd you want to kiss me, but wow, you're a good kisser," he rambles in an attempt to reassure you that you hadn't massively fucked up.

Although you found his rushed explanation endearing, you couldn't help but furrow your brows towards the end of his rambling. The not-so-subtle self-deprecation upsetting you but fueling a fire inside you to show the man that stood in front of you just how sexy you thought he was.

"Why wouldn't I want to kiss you? You're sweet, you're funny, you're a great listener, and not to be shallow, but I thought you were one of the hottest guys I've ever seen when we first met. I've wanted to kiss you since we left the restaurant."

"Hot? No, trust me, I'm not-" he attempts to say before you cut him off with a lighthearted glare.

Your hands that were currently frozen on his chest begin to move once more, gliding up and down his torso before caressing his broad shoulders, trailing your hands down his arms before squeezing his biceps. Seokmin feels a twitch in his pants as your lustful gaze takes in all of his frames until your eyes reach his.

The hallway lights were much more useful for admiring every feature of his face, but even with the dim moonlight shining through the windows of your apartment, nothing could hide how attractive he was. Inside and out.

"Seokmin, shut up, please. I think you're sexy, and I doubt there's anything you can do to change my opinion unless you randomly start acting like a dick. But with the way Jeonghan talks about you, I have a feeling that won't happen. I really like you, okay?"

Your gentle tone eases Seokmin's nerves, a wave of confidence flooding his brain. He pulls your face closer to his before the destructive self-critic inside his head could ruin this moment for him. He deserved to be happy. He deserved to feel good about himself. He deserved someone like you.

And so he presses his lips against yours, kissing you softly before his lips move against yours in a way that had you melting in his hands. Seokmin wasn't aggressive, not at all, but he was passionate, the raw emotion of his slow, deep kiss turning your brain into mush.

Damn, this man can kiss.

A soft moan escapes your throat as he tilts his head to the side, nose bumping against yours momentarily as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against your lips, void of self-doubt as his thumbs gently caress your cheeks.

He steps away from the front door, leading you backward until he accidentally stumbles over your bag, which you must have dropped on the floor during your initial kiss.

His lips parted from yours, the two of you letting out giggles as he bent down to pick up your bag, placing it carefully on the accent table by your door before turning his attention back towards you.

You waste no time grabbing the back of his neck and pulling him into another kiss, one that feels much more heated as his hands now rest on your waist, rubbing your sides softly before something in his brain snaps and makes him ache in need of having you closer to him. Seokmin wraps his arms around your waist and pulls your body flush against his, the intimate action allowing you to feel the impressive bulge in his pants.

You pull away from him, intentionally this time, hooded eyes looking into his as the two of you try to catch your breaths.

"Do you want to keep going?" You ask for safe measure, although you had a feeling you knew what he would answer with.

Seokmin cutely nodded, his eyes still glossed over with lust, but it was still cute nonetheless.

He bites his lip in anticipation and excitement once you grab his hand to lead him to your bedroom. He doesn't bother admiring the decor as he steps into your room, pulling his hand away from yours and pulling your back against his front, his bulge pressing into you as he tilts your head to the side to press kisses along your neck.

You moan as he manages to find your sweet spot in record time, your hand raising to lace your fingers into his soft strands, nails grazing his scalp, which rewards you with a moan that escapes his pretty lips.

His lips work diligently, kissing up to your ear before mumbling out words you're surprised you're not too delirious with need to make sense of.

"Mm, by the way, I really like you too," he breathes out with a laugh, fanning your ear, which causes you to turn around in his grasp.

You reach your hand between your bodies and palm Seokmin through his pants, the man immediately reacting to your actions. His jaw drops slightly, his eyes closing shut as he shudders from your touch. You admire the look of pleasure on his face as your hand squeezes and rubs him through the thick fabric, giving him some satisfaction, but you knew he needed more, and you were more than happy to give it to him if he looked this sexy when experiencing pleasure.

"I can tell, baby," you purr out.

The term of endearment nearly makes his knees buckle from underneath him.

All year he had convinced himself that he wasn't ready to move on. He wasn't willing to open up his heart again. But with your smaller hands rubbing him in need alongside your words of affection, his treacherous ex couldn't reside further in the back of his mind. He was far too gone, too enraptured with you to stress about anything else.

Until you pulled your hand away from his clothed cock to guide him toward the foot of the bed. Your hands press firmly against his chest, pushing him to sit down. Your hands soon take up the task of slowly unbuttoning his shirt, gradually sinking onto your knees, which only made Seokmin's eyebrows furrow in confusion since this definitely wasn't the most effective kissing position.

And his confusion only grew as your hands quickly moved towards his belt, eager to take his pants off so you could have some fun with him.

"W-what are you doing?" Seokmin places a hand over yours, engulfing it as his worried tone causes you to pause.

"I thought you wanted to have sex…it's totally okay if you don't want to! We can just watch a movie or go back to making out if you want-" you reply, now your turn to be a rambling mess.

Seokmin quickly shakes his head, "I want to! But what are you doing on the floor?"

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, biting back a smirk as you move your hands to rub up and down his now-exposed stomach, loving how his muscles tensed and relaxed from your touch.

"I wanted your cock in my mouth. Mmmh, I want it so bad," you answer.

Normally, you'd hate how the city lights beamed into your bedroom at night. But the adorable look of shock on Seokmin's face, eyes wide as his breathing gets heavier, have you silently thanking yourself for leaving your blackout curtains open before you left.

"You don't- you really don't have to," Seokmin whispers out, out of breath from how your needy hands were feeling him up.

Seokmin knew that any other guy (who was attracted to women) would be losing their shit right now, wondering what kind of idiot would try and turn down a blowjob from someone like you. But, honestly, he wanted to save himself from embarrassment even if his cock was leaking precum in desperation to know what your lips, which he already loved kissing, would feel wrapped around his length.

As if you could sense his inner dilemma, you sit back on your heels, gazing up at him with a pout written on your face.

"I know I don't have to. I said I wanted to. Do you want me to?"

Seokmin couldn't tell if it was the fact he felt smitten under your gaze or if he was just painfully honest, but his following words fell from his lips before he could save himself from oversharing his thoughts.

"I want you to, but no one's ever done…that for me, and I haven't been with anyone for a while, and I'm worried I'm gonna ruin the night by finishing too quick," he rushed out, his cheeks flushed red as he silently curses at himself for saying too much, fully prepared for you to laugh at him and kick him out.

But that didn't happen.

Instead, he's met with a heartwarming smile that soon forms into a smirk as you run your hands up and down his thick thighs.

"It's okay if you cum quick, baby. You can always make it up to me next time. Now, are you gonna let me have a taste or not?"

Next time?

Seokmin couldn't ignore the strain his cock felt against his pants. The thought of doing this and so much more in the future with you sent tingles down his body, and before he knew it, he was nodding his head for you to continue, a soft whisper of his approval leaving his lips.

You bite your lip, trying to mask your growing excitement as you trail our hands further up his thighs and finally finish taking off his belt, the metal buckle clanking against your floors which neither of you pays mind to.

"Gonna make you feel so good~" you purr, leaving forward to plant your lips on his stomach while your hands unbutton and unzip Seokmin's pants.

His pretty eyes flutter shut as he tilts his head back, savoring the feeling of your lips against his skin, trailing lower and lower to where he longed for them the most.

Raising his hips a little, he helps you shimmy his pants down his legs, watching with hooded eyes as you toss them to the corner of your dimmed room.

You pause momentarily, admiring and borderline drooling due to the sight before you. His shirt open, exposing his torso, his messy hair from your hands playing with it, the rosy hue on his cheeks as his dark brown eyes stared down at you, waiting patiently for more.

Your eyes flickered down to his bulge, obscured by the soft fabric of his briefs. You subconsciously kick your lips as you make out the faint wet patch spoiling his underwear, precum soaking into the material.

Seokmin felt his heart speed up tremendously as you slowly lowered towards his clothed cock. His hands grip your soft bed sheets underneath him, a low moan leaving his lips as you lick and kiss him through the fabric. You feel slick coating your underwear as sweet sounds of pleasure continue to leave him, filling up the room deliciously.

Seokmin doesn't know when his eyes shut closed again, but he takes a small peek and quickly realizes it was a mistake.

He never knew someone could look so beautiful on their knees for him. All for him and eager to please. He balances himself upright with one arm as the other moves to rest on the top of your head, slowly stroking your head as you drag his underwear down his thick thighs.

"You're so pretty," he gently compliments before throwing his head back as you kiss the tip of his cock.

"Mm, your cock's pretty," you mumble against him before moving a hand to cup his balls.

Seokmin can only reply with a breathy laugh before a loud groan fills the room, his whole body tingling with pleasure as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, tongue pressing against the underside of his length while your hand gently rubs his sensitive balls.

It certainly wasn't a lie; Seokmin's cock was pretty. It wasn't massive to the point where you feared whether or not you could handle it, but it was more than enough to imagine the stretch your mouth (and cunt) would feel.

But what you loved most were the veins that ran along his cock, now pressing against your lips as you took more of his length into his mouth, driving the man above you absolutely crazy.

Seokmin panted as he tried to keep himself from cumming too quickly, the unfamiliar and wet sensation of someone's mouth wrapped around his cock almost too much for him to handle. His moans became more frequent as you slowly bob your head, fucking his cock with your mouth, feeling his salty precum pool in your mouth, mixing with your saliva, the slickness perfect for gliding his cock in your mouth.

With eyes rolled back, a guttural groan leaves his chest as you challenge yourself to take his entire length into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat as your nose dug into his pubic bone. He reacts by mindlessly bucking his hips, forcing his cock down your throat, which he quickly apologizes for.

"Fuck—I'm sorry. You feel so good," he half whines, half moans as his hands shoot down to try and pull you off of him, worried that he had gotten too eager and hurt you (and your throat).

The first curse word you hear leave his usually polite mouth only makes you want him more, pressing your face as close as possible so his cock can reach as far as it can. You breathe through your nose as Seokmin's mouth gapes at the feeling of your throat closing around him before you pull your mouth from him with a gasp, a string of spit connecting the two of you.

Seokmin's hips thrash on the bed as you take his cock into your hand, jerking him fast as you give your throat a break by leaning down to suckle on his balls.

Shit, shit, shit—

"Y-Y/n, I'm gonna cum if you—holy shit…you're so good at this…is it always this good? Fuck—I'm gonna cum if you keep g-going," he stutters out, his entire being clouded with pleasure that he could feel threatening to spill out of him as a bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach grew with each stroke of your hand.

You pull your lips away from his balls with a pleasant pop, smiling up at him, nearly causing him to cum on the spot.

So, so pretty…

"Then cum for me. I want you to cum for me," you practically moan before you wrap your lips around the tip of his deep red tip that was ready to burst.

Your hand continues to stroke his cock, your spit aiding your actions as your other hand fondles his balls, your lips sucking on his tip, ready for him to cum.

Seokmin goes silent for a few seconds, mind foggy with pleasure before he sees a flash of white as thick ropes of cum shoot out of his cock and into your mouth. His knuckles nearly turn white as they find themselves gripping your bedsheets once again as he shudders from the sheer force of his orgasm.

A long, drawn-out moan finally makes it past his airways as you slow your pace on his cock, wanting him to ride out his orgasm as much as possible.

You finally let up once you hear him whine that it's too much. He watches with glossy eyes he can barely keep open as you lift your head away from his slowly shrinking cock. Your eyes never break away from his as you swallow all of his cum with a low moan, feeling it slide down your throat.

He takes a few deep breaths before he helps you up to your feet, standing with you. He swiftly changes positions, you're now the one seated on the bed, and he's on his knees.

You chuckle at him as he takes off your heels you forgot to kick off already and kisses up your legs until he reaches where his lips meet the skirt of your dress.

His affectionate eyes that held so much lust in them glance up at you before he whispers words that shoot straight to your core.

"Is it my turn to have a taste?"

Fuck, he's sexy without even trying.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Hello. And I NEED your take on this. Okay, so you know that Angel, Alastor, and Vaggie are the consistent core people she's paired with in official arts/merch. And how 2/3rds of the Vees have warped, toxic sexual interests in them. Vox having a one-sided crush on Alastor and Val being sexually abusive to Angel. Here's my prediction: Velvette will develop a similar toxic "affection" for Vaggie. Thoughts?

Charlie's gonna kill her.

(poor Vaggie, isn't Lute being obsessed with her enough????)

(fans of the V's im sorry i killed them off at some point during this, i do NOT want them dead in canon, pls read with care or scroll past thank u)

Set up: why Velvette would notice Vaggie at all-

Hey look, two woman who want to fight heaven and are the manager / backbone of their respective social group. More abrasive than charming, blunt and straight forward- if Velvette's a little in love with herself then maybe she sees a bit of herself in the angel that heaven scarred and thinks hmmmmm, potential alliance time~ Maybe she picks up on Vaggie's self hatred and takes it personally, bitch how dare you not fucking love yourself, girls like us are fucking BADASS just ditch the stupid moral high ground self flagellation crap and embrace the urge to flip all the shit, fuck up the old world order and MAKE a new one!

And or if we're going off the vibes that Velvette's rivalry with Carmilla is more personal / hate crush in territory, then add the whole thing of Carmilla bonding with Vaggie bc of how similar they are in some ways (sharing TWO motivation songs about fighting for the people they love) then hell, maybe Velvette is jelly of Vaggie first, seeing the interest Carmilla has in her, the RESPECT Carmilla shows her. Maybe she was pissed seeing someone so like HERSELF falling in step with CARMINE's old crowd. So Velvette marks Vaggie as a target and Carmine weak spot, an example to be made or a play piece to snatch....

aaaaaand then that spirals into Velvette also noticing how similar the two are, except VAGGIE has an even shorter temper, less experience with manipulations, is a much worse liar- which makes her like, an easier and more instantly gratifying version of Carmilla. While ALSO still being a Carmine weak spot. Two for one!

Or maybe it's just another emotionally constipated violent attachment to Vaggie.

Maybe Velvette and Lute could start a Fuck Vaggie hate group. And neither of them knows for sure which way they mean it.

Side idea about the V's theme naming, and Vaggie's trend of having HER name said wrong: imagine Velvette trying to hide her interest by calling Vaggie a nickname like… Aggie or… Argent or Agatha. Deliberately avoiding her actual name- maybe later enjoying how that gets Vaggie riled up, gets her attention on Velvette a little in SOME way.

V's and their A's, yeah? Kinda funny

Anyway, to address the Charlie in the room-

Charlie barely held back on hell fire cooking Valentino- who had the safeguard of owning shares in Angel Dust's soul and that whole messy history to save him from her (for now). Lute got Demon Charlie Deathglare treatment while disarmed and crying, just bc Charlie was holding her gf and presumably THINKING about what Lute did / tried to do to Vaggie.

But Velvette's not safely up in heaven and doesn't so far have any claim on a soul Charlie specifically cares about. An overlord like HER tries anything with Charlie's girlfriend? Makes Vaggie scowl with flirty looks, maybe tries an unnecessary touch during a meeting with the overlords... WANTS to see Vaggie lose it just like Lute did- (doesn't actually like Vaggie as she is, wants something from her, that part of herself Vaggie is trying hard to move past)-

Mm. Death. I think death would be hard to avoid. Just as like a kneejerk protective reaction thing.

Charlie did not hold her girlfriend's freshly stabbed through hand after the hotel battle just to sit quietly and not set fire to stuff when someone else tries messing with Vaggie again. She did not yell at all of heaven's ruling angels just to bite her tongue and play nice for some uppity sinners down in hell. She's their princess. They'll all edge back a step when she tells Velvette to kindly Back. Off.

honestly an AU where Charlie kills / tries to kill someone in a blind protective rage (think her right after Pentious' death) would be pretty juicy...

I feel like this AU wants to become a dark comedy tho

heck, we could go full symmetry and have each of the As eventually kill off one of the Vs, but not their own.

Porn star Angel Dust knocking off Vox and winning his TV empire. The irony. He knows enough about good scripts to've had his soul crushed by Charlie's adorably horrible attempts at it. And Angel Dust would make a great TV host personality. Now he can make all of hell see his smug-ass face as well as his amazing holes. Gods can you imagine him with a TALK SHOW???? Doing interviews? Diva Angel Dust's self esteem TV masterclasses- how to love the loser you are and lose the lovers who don't respect ya. HOW does he kill Vox- idk... maybe Vox was about to tear through Husk to weaken Alastor and Angel Dust threw a drink over his TV head, smashed him with a bottle from the bar, then stomped on him with the heavenly steel stilettos he commissioned from Carmilla. Why not.

Alastor finds out the Vs tried / are trying to use Niffty against the hotel and him, doesn't wanna give Vox the satisfaction of being the one to kill him, doesn't see Val as enough of a threat to bother with, takes out Velvette instead. Probably using Niffty to do it, for it's own kind of irony. Niffty is now a social media manage! She posts dead rat pics and cochroach hunt livestreams from a go pro on her head, and it creeps out hell at first but people slowly get honestly drawn into it, start naming the dead rats, making them fan pages... posting hearts emojis in the pest control live stream chats- suddenly this dead former brainwashed housewife has thousands of online fans who love her weird creepy af interests and are eagerly LISTENING to HER while she posts about knifes and poison and tips on taxidermy stitching. Eventually she get a stuffed Vox as the centerpiece of her Bad Boy shrine now and Alastor is a little hurt and envious of this.

Vaggie kills Val. Yes I am just saying that bc I want her soaking up his dead demon butterfly energy and getting her moth motif for real. She'd wear that fluffy ruff WAY better than him, in my gay opinion. If I have to make another excuse tho, let's say Val gets real pissed and panicky about the hotel being rebuilt and the increasing number of public disses that Angel Dust's been throwing at him- so he's making those studio moments LITERAL hell, the hotel crew picks up on it, CHARLIE picks up on it.... confrontation, Vaggie's there this time, stops Demon Charlie from skewering Val in a blind fiery rage to keep her gf from being a FULL OUT murderer... comes back later, alone. Asks Val one last time to ease up / free Angel Dust. Answer is no, and, she kills him. Tells him she's killed tons of people more innocent than him. Tells him, he's too dangerous to keep around- for Angel Dust yeah but mainly for Charlie, he's putting her gf at risk of doing something terrible- so Vaggie will do it for her. Stab.

We can squeeze some angst out of that. More passive secrets / not actively told lies to Charlie, not volunteering the fact she killed him... eventually HAVING to admit to it so she can undo the soul pact she inherited from him with Angel Dust (maybe has to work on slowly rebuilding that friendship after promising him she wouldn't let Chalrie kill Val, only to technically keep the word but break the meaning when SHE kills Val instead), and all the other enslaved souls- that little fact of who protects and employs all Val's people now, with him gone? Who keeps his turf?

Maybe Cherri Bomb steps up (is the only one Angel Dust can stomach and trust with his old life and the slow changing of it), trades the souls with Vaggie for a promise not to hurt them, becomes the new overlord to the sinners too suspicious of the hotel to accept a broken contract (an overlord who has your soul has a personal interest in vaguely caring if you stay alive) but gives them free rein to fuck off and work for Carmine, or in Rosie Emporium, or Angel Dust's new media company, or check in at the hotel- whatever really- while she guards the new turf with the rebuilt and repainted airship the last Egg Boi fixed up for her. She ends up with a full crew anyway, all volunteers. Cherri Bomb's buccaneers! Up in heaven Sir Pentious is shedding all the tears of admiration and pride, wailing over not being on her crew himssssself

Maybe Charlie's angry and upset, not with Vaggie but with HERSELF for honestly WANTING Val dead- for knowing Vaggie wasn't wrong about that, had already had to physically stop her from killing him- and why was Val different to her when she could let Adam live? What's WRONG with her- Charlie and the sad, honest heart to heart with Vaggie (physically changed by all this) about how Adam was an impersonal general asshole, part of distant, bigger, uncaring threat, while Val was actively every day hurting one of Charlie's friends. Of course she'd feel different about them. Of course he'd press on her protective nerves in ways Adam didn't.

Vaggie and the sinking, sickening, private feeling she keeps from Charlie- only spills out maybe to Carmilla- that she's scared she's too much like the other angels. How she hears what she said to Val ringing in her head, and she thinks of Sera, culling sinners to save heaven, hiding it from Emily to save her sister the pain (and herself the shame) and is that who Vaggie is? Deep down? Too ready to murder for the sake of those she loves, when she feels it's the RIGHT thing to do? How could she spare Lute, be so ready to keep fighting her, and not Valentino...?

Maybe Carmilla points out to her the same things she said to Charlie, with a twist. How Lute was a danger to Vaggie mainly and she is used to that- but Val was a danger to Charlie in a way Vaggie couldn't easily protect Charlie from, so she got scared and... love isn't a kind or fair thing. It's an edge for them to fight for AND with, shaped by their choices. Next time, Vaggie can choose differently.

(Vox, Val, and Velvette don't get that choice anymore and it's a nauseating thing Charlie and Vaggie won't be able to forget- not because they were any more worth giving a second chance too than any other sinner, but because they just as worth that second chance as anyone else.)

(and now it's gone. They're gone. The fight for redemption is a long backsliding slog for all sides and they'll have to do better, next time)

(they'll have to live with what they've done either way)

Maybe Vaggie wonders what it might have said about Velvette, that she (in this AU) took an interest in people like her and Carmilla. If she was so into shaking things up and challenging the way things are, maybe, if she'd come to the hotel...

maybe there's a world out there somewhere where seeing a bit of herself in Vaggie got Velvette thinking. A bigger picture shake up than just who is top overlord of a shitty hell.

maybe she's never a good person to anyone not useful or important to her, and shit to them anyway half the time, but if ONE of the people in that group IS trying to be good, then, there's a limit to what she'll do too. There'll be at least one moment she drags the Vs kicking and screaming away from delicious revenge and towards something that'll help them all rise up more, in the long term

a broken clock is right twice each day. people who mean badly can do good and helpful things. a one-sided toxic yuri situation can help save a lot of people, maybe

....or just kill a fuck ton of angels. honestly, if said angels are murderous exorcists, vaggie would probably appreciate a gesture like that

she still wouldn't date a friend of Valentino's tho

[atinystaypixie]

Ranting cuz i need to get things off my chest and feel insane n over life

I’m so damn tired. I stay home to take care of my mother n the constant backlash i get from her is astounding. Always saying i have an attitude n that my face makes her upset. I literally am passing out from exhaustion during the day cuz i can never sleep properly and I usually am jumping out my sleep to come help her and she somehow takes it as me having an attitude and being a bitch—literally called me a bitch, despite me telling her several times its just my face and i cant control it. And then the constant saying im going to Hell because im treating her so terribly. Im trying my best but when i say that she point out that trying isnt good enough and im being a bitch. And she tells me im not taking responsibility for my actions but when i tell her she isnt either cuz she never wants to hear that she talks harshly to me and my sister then its a problem. I just dont get it. I cant do more than im doing and the moment something gets dirty or messy then all hell breaks loose. Im taking care of YOU and am home by MYSELF with you pretty much all fay everyday so excuse me if i cant clean like a damn slave 24/7, take care of you, and manage my school work all in one day. She keeps saying how she never took her time to do anything when it came to me n my sis and that we are terrible kids for taking so long to do anything she ever asks. Aka with me she means if i dont come running in .2 secs of her calling me n this usually happens when im so exhausted i dont hear her. Its a damn if i do and damn if i dont thing almost cuz if i do come quick enough i look ugly and bitchy to her but if i dont come quick enough…i still look ugly and bitchy to her AND i definitely have an attitude. Idk how she expects me to smile when she literally berates and fusses at me 24/7 for even the smallest things especially things i tell her arent happening the way she says. But if I say that she always hits me with the “no you want to play me as crazy! My mind aint gone”- yall im so tired this back and forth and not even being able to apologize and trying to be civil just to be met with curses is crazy. I would see if I genuinely had an attitude but even trying to talk it out leads to no fucking where. Im already depressed and trying not to relapse into bad habits but damn what did i do to deserve this like this? Ik im not a perfect caregiver but i literally stayed home from college and opted to do online courses to help take care of her, i opted to not find a new job, i opted to actually try and be here for her n this is all im met with everyday? Im just tired

[belaprus]

Dottore x reader: being his assistant (pt.5)

He was looking at you with an unusual smile on his face. For a moment you were tempted to exit the room and enter again, just to be sure you weren't having hallucinations of some sort. As you were pondering about what kind of drug he had used lately, he unexpectedly talked first:"I guess you were right. I'm no kid anymore", he said while relaxedly laying back on his chair. You had a gut feeling this was going somewhere you didn't want to. He continued:

"I can take care of myself, and I'll make sure to do so. No more ruin guard incidents will happen from now on. But, you know..."

'Yup, this is definitely going somewhere', you thought.

"I would need just a tiny bit of your help. Just some... ingredients, would be perfect for my research. And since you're so relatable, I wouldn't mind you being my assistant"

'Is this supposed to be an upgrade or something?' You cut off his coaxings: "You got no shame at all, do you?"

"Probably so. Does it sound even?"

'Not at all, but I guess I'll just go with it. I don't wanna have any mental breakdowns on him. Besides, it's just ingredients... nothing I can't get my hands on, as a Fatui' "Alright. What do you need?"

Next thing you knew, fucking 11th Harbinger was swinging his polearm at you, thunders falling from the ceiling and your little ass moving frantically to avoid premature death. Honestly, Childe could have just given you some of his Shards of Foul Legacy in exchange for mora and you would have called it a deal, but he wasn't the type to let you go without a fight. Plus, he was never short of mora. This was way more difficult than defeating a ruin hunter: you were at a strong disadvantage, with your visions being of pyro and electro, while his electro and hydro definitely got the upper hand, one of them even being a delusion. It was ridiculously unfair. At some point, you started to wonder if Dottore had sent you there to get you indirectly killed. And you knew it couldn't have been that far from the truth.

-----------

He was fidgeting with a pen, a paper listing all of the ingredients in front of him. The clock marking the passage of time was getting him so impatient: what was taking her so long? Just as he was about to go out to smoke, the door opened before him. He was trying so hard not to laugh at the woman in front of him:

"What's with the messy hair? Did you end up fucking him?", he couldn't resist on saying.

She was silent, but if eyes could kill he would have been done for in an instant.

He continued "Come on! If you can't manage him, how are you gonna deal with me? Need I remind you-"

"Tartaglia was sent by Pantalone", she talked with a flat tone, a slight frown on her face, eyes still trying to flash deadly laser beams at him.

"And Pantalone was sent by me. Right? Now you're starting to see what real power is"

He liked this new situation so much: she was fierce, but still obedient. What was even more funny to him was that she wouldn't even do it because of power: she definitely had a thing for him. He could do whatever he wanted with her, exploiting her emotions... Or else. There was so much he had in mind since the day she had shown her soft spot. He could have patiently poked on it, just like she'd done before, but he wasn't a man of patience at all.

"Oy! Get your mind off the clouds of Celestia and help me!"

As always, he was thinking too much.

-------------

"Here are your ingredients", you handed him a box containing all of your hard work and the remaining shreds of your soul. Normally, you would have expected a Grammy Award for all the effort it took, but obviously this wasn't the case.

"Aww, thanks."

'Well, at least he didn't say anything weird', your naïve head was thinking until he spoke again:

"Only one thing: call me Master, next time"

'...THIS FUCKING BITCH'

"AS IF", you spat out as he was laughing so loud at you while taking the box into the other room. If you had a mirror, though, you would have noticed the blushing mess you had become. What a pity neither of you had one.

By the end of the day, you were utterly exausted. While listing other ingredients and designing new schemes for his evil plans, he liked to provoke you from time to time. Despite you ignoring him, he kept on until you heard him say:

"Don't be so dramatic. Childe is strong, but not the strongest. If you want to be of use here, you gotta be stronger than this, little girl"

And that 'little girl' was enough to break the spell:

"I'm no little girl"

"Well, compared to me, you are"

"I. Am. No. Little. Girl."

"Maybe 'assistant' would be more suitable?"

Your gaze darted towards the clock: time was up by less than a minute. Usually, you wouldn't care about time, not even with your patients before you had joinined the Fatui... But now was the perfect moment to start. You ignored him yet again and started to pack your things. He was looking at you through the whole process as if expecting something, the smile from before still painted on his face. It was when you were by the door that the expected moment had arrived:

"See you tomorrow, my little assistant"

You shouldn't have focused on his eyes, not even for a brief moment, because you could swear you'd seen him wink at you. And you knew that thought would hunt your dreams for the next nights to come.

[cuteniarose]

oooh cruel and painful hair cutting scene?

Okay, so this one requires some context (actually, all of them do, because everything I write is very far removed from canon and is OC-centric. Not my fault LoK canon sucks for the most part and my own characters are much more fun to play around with). In my main AU, Seeds of the Red Lotus, my Mingzan child OCs were left with Haya, Ghazan's older sister, when their parents left for the South Pole to kidnap Korra 13 years prior to the show's events. But what they didn't account for is that Haya was still fucking pissed at Ghazan for leaving her when he ran away as a teenager, so she began seeing his kids as proof of him abandoning her for the RL and for that swamp rat (a.k.a Ming-Hua), and started taking out that unprocessed anger, grief and prejudice on these poor innocent children :(

Suiren, Mingzan's eldest, was generally extremely sensitive to a lot of things even before due to her autism, but obviously it was only exacerbated by Haya's abuse. One of Haya's methods to get Suiren to maintain eye contact was to pull at her hair, which led to her realising hair pulling got Suiren to behave, and eventually it was done so much that it developed into a full on trigger and a foolproof way to get Suiren to dissociate as a defence mechanism :/ And that's bad enough on its own, but a side effect is that now even the smallest tug at Suiren's hair triggers her, even the ones that occur during hair brushing, so now she neglects it which only makes Haya even more mad at her for her hair being all messy and tangled. She said that if Suiren didn't pull herself together and sort it out, she'd just chop all her hair off, which Suiren can't allow because it's one of the last connections she has to her mother.

Now, in actual canon, said haircut never happened, but almost a year ago now I was feeling particularly evil and decided to write a small AU about what would happen if it did (yep. A whole separate AU to torture an 8 year old child more than I already do. Idk what that says about me as a person but it can't be good). I then never finished it because my mental health is a little bitch that won't let me write, but I really want to delve into the aftermath of said event so hopefully sharing a part now will give me the push I need to continue once things stabilise a little. So now, after that obnoxiously long explanation, a snippet of the fic itself (under the cut, because this is already long enough):

(TW for child abuse, dissociation and general awfulness)

Suiren kept fighting even as Haya pinned her in place. She didn’t care if it would result in more punishment later on, nothing could be as bad as what Haya was about to do if Suiren didn’t manage to get away. At one point, she almost managed to bite at Haya’s hand, which earned her a slap to the face.

“It’s like you’re trying to make this harder for yourself, Girl. We could have been done already if you just stayed fucking still!”

She moved her hand from Suiren’s shoulder to grab a strand of hair next to her face, pulling slightly. Suiren despised the involuntary freeze of her entire body. Haya brought up the scissors, slowly, and measured out the length, stopping at just above Suiren’s chin.

Suiren forced herself to meet Haya’s eyes, trying one last time to get through to her, get her to show mercy just this once. She wanted to say something but her tongue wouldn’t obey.

For just a moment, it almost seemed like it worked. Haya’s eyes widened, she stared down at Suiren with an almost horrified expression, her hand, the one holding the scissors, shook.

Then, she blinked and it was gone.

She drew her eyebrows together in focus as she made the first cut.

Suiren watched the hair fall onto her chest in what felt like slow motion. She didn’t want to look at it, to be reminded that this was all real and not yet another nightmare, but couldn’t force herself to turn away,

Haya grabbed another strand.

‘Please,’ Suiren wanted to scream, ‘You’ve made your point. I’ll behave now, I’ll be good, you don’t need to do this. Please let me go.’

But Haya would never listen to her, she’d only be wasting her breath. Tears burned at her eyes and she struggled to breathe around the lump in her throat as Haya kept cutting, more and more of her hair falling to the floor. Having gained confidence in her actions, Haya increased her speed.

Something inside Suiren, some persistent sense of spite that somehow hadn’t died off yet, urged her to keep fighting. Haya had her securely pinned down, ensuring the wouldn’t move, but when had that even been enough to stop her?

As Haya, with her guard seemingly down, moved to the hair on the other side of Suiren’s face, Suiren gathered all her strength to try and push her off again.

All she succeeded at was getting her right cheekbone nicked by the blade, a result of turning her head too suddenly at precisely the wrong time.

However small, the spot where the scissors broke her skin hurt more than most bruises. A single drop of blood tickled her cheek as it rolled down it. Haya stopped and grabbed her by the chin to inspect the damage. 

“Now look what you’ve done,” she hissed, then forcibly turned Suiren’s face to grab more of her hair and pull harder than she ever had before.

The last thing Suiren registered was Haya struggling to cut through a thick, knotted, matted clump. 

She faintly heard the non-stop snipping, too quick to ensure the cuts would be even, felt the fallen strands against her skin, but the welcoming blankness of her mind pushed it all away. She shut her eyes tight and tried with everything left in her to imagine a place far away from Haya’s house, where she would be safe, where no one would ever touch her again. 

She didn’t know how much time passed, but eventually, Haya let her go.

[emotional-support-bitch]

I will, genuinely, because I've been seeing Unaware Lucio Stans on my dash and I wanna scream. Like, either these people haven't played the other routes, the posts I'm seeing are outdated, or they see the red flags and they're colorblind. Major spoilers for the whole game, Strap In bitches, this is the Long Haul Post of Frustration.

Okay. Yes, Lucio has seen some shit. Get that out of the way now. He grew up in the Scourge and was a mercenary since he was 18 to whatever age he settled in Vesuvia, I don't remember, it's been a while since I played the game, and he lost his arm during that time, which had to be a little traumatic.

Yes, post-ritual failure he was subjected to complete social isolation and partial sensory deprivation for three years, both of those things being considered torture after 15 days. This would have been even worse for him, given how much he bases his personality off of what other people think of him and how they act around him.

Yes, in his route we see him endure another unspecified stretch of time of WHITE ROOM TORTURE, which- based on what I have read, I am not a definitive source- is meant to completely erase a person and replace them with someone new in the same body. He was in there long enough to have a whole ass breakdown upon seeing the player.

NONE OF THIS EXCUSES HIS ACTIONS PREVIOUS TO THE STORY AND DURING THE ROUTES THEMSELVES. He still used Asra and Muriel to hurt each other and keep the other trapped in check, he was still an inattentive and neglectful husband to Nadia, HE STILL LET THE RED PLAGUE TAKE OVER HIS CITY AND THREW MASSIVE PARTIES ANYWAYS. He still murdered his father for power after feeling like he didn't get anything on his 18th birthday. He still tried to kill his mother using the same curse that now follows him around as those blasted red beetles.

Of all 6 routes and 12 endings, there's only ONE where he's salvageable, and it's his own Upright route, in which the player drags his ass up the Mountain of Betterment kicking and screaming. Reversed, he drags the player right down with him.

In Muriel and Asra's routes, he's a fucking sleep paralysis demon come to life, Muriel's route moreso than Asra's. In Asra's, he's vile and still tries to use the old strings of manipulation against Asra (see: the situation with Asra's parents), but the main villain is still the Devil. In Muriel's route, he actually manages to kill Morga and CELEBRATES THE DEATH OF HIS MOTHER. Muriel had the opportunity to kill Lucio at the end of his route, but at that point, (Upright Ending) Muriel had grown so that killing Lucio would have only hurt him. Also Lucio was the Devil at that point and killing him would've hyucked the world out of balance, but that's beside the point.

Julian's route, he's definitely A villain, but he takes a backseat to the Devil. His incompetence in dealing with Magical Bullshittery keeps him from doing too much damage when faced with a Man of Science™ who is also a Dramatic, Messy Bitch and hates him (No harm meant, Julian, I tend to make fun of the people I like).

In Nadia's route, he's pathetic. Nadia just... nothings him, as she should. After what he did to her, he doesn't deserve her respect as anything more than another human life. Given the context of how he treated her, she could have thrown his ass into the sun at the end of her route and I would've went "A'ight, pop off queen".

In Portia's route, he's just kind of there as a plot device- Tasya's the main antagonist here, after all- and disappears into the aether after it all blows over. Portia's EASILY the person Lucio hurt the least, so it makes sense that he wouldn't feature much in her story.

Bottom line here is, Lucio may have seen some shit, but he's also done A LOT OF SHIT that he never apologized for in-game. Just because a person apologizes doesn't mean you have to forgive them, but the apology DOES count for something.

He's a scared little boy putting on the show of the big, scary man that he thinks people want him to be, and in doing so he has coated his hands with blood.

I need to hate on Lucio i haven't done that in a while. Does anyone wanna help me

[coconutdays]

Cry Baby

Eren Jeager x reader one shot

Synopsis: The hot guy who looks like a picture perfect bad boy keeps popping up at every party you go to and you don't know what to do when he asks for your number like the idiot you are

Warnings: Some suggestive material, mostly fluff

Word count: 2.5k!

Loosely based on this song

There's this guy you keep seeing at every party you go to and that's saying something since you don't go out too often, but then again you guys probably have the same cirlcle of friends.

He's hot though and you can never leave these parties without having made eye contact with him at least once due to his hard stares.

Sometimes he even plays the guitar at these parties and he's caught you staring at him when he gets into a certain chorus more than once.

He has a strong presence, his friends are always yelling his name, more so his last name, and he just seems confident in himself because he dresses like a slut.

Yea, a slut.

The first time you saw him, he was wearing these tight denim jeans, a white wife beater, and a black leather jacket. It wouldn't have been so hot if he didn't a wear a ring on almost every finger of his and have his hair up in a messy bun that let stray pieces of his chocolate colored hair frame his annoyingly hot face.

You couldn't forget about the necklace too.

That stupid key that dangled from his neck never failed to make you stare at his chest, which oh so temptingly rose and fell everytime he let out a laugh with his friends.

Right now though, he was wearing a these loose fitting faded green pants and a regular black tshirt that didn't seem so regular when his arms were begging to break free from the short sleeves.

It gave you a perfect view of all the tattoos littering his arms even if you had always wanted to see what was hiding on his chest considering the small blot of ink that always peeked out whenever he wore wife beaters.

No.

You were here to hang out with your friends and he looks like he breaks hearts for fun. Besides, you should enjoy the music more. Whoever had the aux cord at these parties always played the best music and your favorite song never failed to make an appearance, which just so happened to be now.

"Staring at Eren again?" Your best friend giggled.

"I like eye candy." You responded before shaking your head, "He'd break my heart though so I won't bother to look anymore."

Your friend hummed in response before her eyes widened for a bit the moment she got a glimpse behind you.

"Good luck y/n"

"What." You leaned forward to catch her words again.

Did she just wish me good luck? Why?

A shadow from behind you that made the gold in your bracelet gleam less caught your attention and made you turn around.

"Hey"

Eren stood there before you, his hands in his pockets, his posture as tall as ever as he kept your eyes locked with his.

You did not want to be played with tonight and although you found his heart breaker appearance hot as hell, you wouldn't risk your your own for it.

You looked at him like a mother looks at her child when they've interrupted her conversation and smiled, "Hi."

It had the same tone structure as a 'can I help you?'

He caught on to your slight guard, but chose to still speak to you.

"I'm Eren."

"I've heard."

He held back a small laugh. He didn't want you to think he was being a jerk.

"And I've heard yours is y/n."

"Is that the only thing you've heard?"

"I asked someone a couple parties ago," He admitted, a toothy smile splitting his mouth apart dashingly, especially due to his sharp canines, "but only managed to get your name."

"Glad they gave you the right answer." You politely nodded, not wanting to seem a total bitch.

Eren huffed at your facade a little, shaking his head because of how cute he thought it was when you were literally oogling at him moments ago.

"Listen y/n."

"I'm listening Eren."

There you went with that mother-like tone again. It crossed his mind how much he wanted to fuck that attitude out of you, but he'd save that for another time.

He had to win you over first if he'd ever to get to do that.

He chuckled, "I think you're pretty and I'm trying to get your number so I can take you out on a date."

"If that's fine with you." He added politely, confidence never wavering which was annoying.

His confidence annoyed you because it wasn't cocky. His confidence was simply him being comfortable with himself, and damn him because it made him harder to resist.

You really wanted to give him your number...

At this point it was obvious to the both of you that you were looking for an excuse to say no. You didn't even try to hide it anymore with that childish squint of your eyes at him and it made him laugh.

You let out a sigh of defeat and to Eren that could only mean one thing-

"You hear this song?" You pointed at the ceiling

Eren cocked his head to the side in confusion, "Yes?"

"If you learn this entire song on the guitar I'll give you my number."

Your cheeks were kinda puffed in self assurance, you thought you had given him an almost impossible challenge, which may seem like it to you but he wouldn't let you know that. It was cute.

"You want me to learn Cry Baby by The Neighbourhood, y/n."

You nodded like a smartass at his clarification and his knees almost buckled at how so adorable you were that he could just eat you up.

In approval, Eren raised up his hands as he nodded too.

"Fine. Just be ready to give me your number at the next party."

You gave him that kidish doubtful look of yours again before agreeing, "Okay, Eren."

As he shook his head with a smirk on his face, Eren turned around and went walking back to his friends just as you turned to look back at your best friend.

She was giving you a look of 'really?'

It was a tell tale sign she was about to bully you.

"y/n he's going to do it."

She leaned over to smack your arm, "You should have just given him your number dumbass."

You pouted as you soothed your arm, "Hey! I just wanna see some effort! Besides I think he'll forget and that's gonna say enough."

She rolled her eyes at you, "He literally stares at you every single time we see him. He won't forget."

Like a child, you crossed your arms over each other and let out a huff, "We'll see then."

You didn't see Eren again that night and like a fool you ignored the fact that it bummed you out. It wasn't necessary to stare at his neck whenever he threw his head back to laugh or watch the way his arms strained whenever he tried to put his hair up.

At least that's what you told yourself.

The new week came and passed by until the streets lit up again in the vodka, music, and lust of the weekend and you hadn't really thought about Eren. You remembered his promise to you when you were just about finished with your makeup and smacked your lips together while observing the application of your lipgloss.

He probably forgot about his promise the day after.

Nonetheless, you put your pretty heels on and walked right into that party with your best friend and this time you weren't going to lie to yourself when you looked around the room for that pretty brunette.

You couldn't find him.

Whatever, less heart break for you.

You dragged your best friend to the rest of your friends that would also attend the party. There was some commotion in the groupchat about somebody's girlfriend finding out their ex was talking to their mom's friend and the information was too juicy to let go of.

"And then my mom sent me a screenshot of this guy in her friend's comments talking about some-"

The conversation went in through one ear and out the other when that song started playing a little too finely through the party stereos.

Yeah, that song.

Your ears perked up and the electric guitar sounded too crisp to just be coming from the aux cord of a spotify playlist.

You looked around the room, following a particularly long wire that was connected to the stereo. You looked past plenty of heels, feet, and random shoes until you saw a pretty black guitar at the hands of him.

Eren.

He was completely invested in the guitar on his lap, fingers picking and choosing what strings to play and you were glad because you wouldn't be able to handle eye contact with him right now if he looked up.

"Told you." Your best friend giggled into your ear as she flicked your forehead gently.

Whenever Eren played the guitar, it was normal for a little bit of people to gather to look. It wasn't new for a guy to play the guitar at parties, especially him, but it was still interesting to see.

Your best friend lifted you up by grabbing your hand

"Gotta live up to your promise." She sang to you teasingly as she took you near him.

You whined, "Can we at least sit, I don't wanna stand there like a weirdo."

She shook her head, "Fine, but we'll sit where he can see you."

You nodded in dramatic defeat before she added, "And you better be ready to give him your number."

"Yes ma'am."

In all honesty, you were too shocked that he actually learned the song to let the giddy feelings register in your stomach on time, so you resorted to being whiny about it.

Except,

it registered when you sat down and he was already looking at you.

The rest of the four minutes that passed by were painful, they were comprised of the knowing looks Eren sent your way, you shuffling in your seat, and the actual part of you that was trying to enjoy the way he was playing the guitar for you.

They were painful but they passed by pretty fast, a little too fast in your scared and flustered opinion.

You watched Eren hand his electric guitar over to an eager friend who was probably gonna take a chance to play a song on it and saw this quick opportunity to voice your sheepishness to your friend.

"I think-"

Your best friend was no where in sight. She wasn't even sitting next to you anymore.

When did she leave you here?

You were going to kick her-

"My number?"

A fearful gulp made its way down your throat as you looked up at the handsome figure before you.

Eren cheekily had his phone out in your direction, his screen already lit in the light of his keypad.

You took the phone from him rather roughly in your opinion and bit back your smile as you typed those ten numbers on his phone and added your name to its contact.

Eren did not in fact think you took the phone from him roughly and would have compared the sight to a baby taking back its candy, but he feared telling you would ruffle your feathers. And he says ruffle your feathers cause you remind him of a sparrow, tiny but always mad for no reason.

And he loved it.

He sat down next to you when you finished typing your name and held out his phone for him to take back, which he did.

"Someone's surprised I learned a song for her." He sang, just as teasingly as your best friend did to you just moments ago.

Chills ran up your spine at the blatant mention of him doing something for you.

"So what if I am." You huffed a little, unaware of the way you turned your body to face him.

But Eren was quite aware, so he did it too.

"I'll learn more if you want me to." He offered, his hand painfully close to yours.

You turned your face away from him bashfully to hide the effect he had on you which only made it worse because he took it as an opportunity to close the distance between your faces a little more.

"How does that sound hm pretty girl?"

His breath was hot on your skin, even reaching your neck.

Mustering the courage, you turned back to look at him, even though any movement could cause you to kiss him due to the close to nonexistent distance between the two of you.

"It sounds nice." You peeped quietly

Eren's eyes were glazed as he observed you, he wouldn't even be surprised if somebody said he had stars in his eyes.

"Not so bratty now huh." He laughed warmly in tenderness at your state before him now.

Unable to stand his stare on you again, you looked down at both of your hands, fingertips touching.

You danced your fingers around over his hand, feeling the contrast of his cool rings against the warmth of his fingers before you set your hand on top of his.

"I'm giving you a million more songs to learn by the way." You murmured.

Eren shifted so he could have his face in front of yours again and there again came the intensity of his lips oh so close to yours and the unavoidable glimpses towards each other's mouths the both of you would give.

"I'll learn one for every date you let me take you on." He breathed in assurance

Your brain was foggy at how alluring he was

"I like the way you play the guitar." You admitted

And Eren's pants tightened at the way your eyes fluttered up at him when you said that.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm." You nodded, unaware yet again of the way you were pushing yourself onto him leaving Eren to yet again restrain himself from pouncing on you and scaring you away.

"Stop teasing me." He murmured, eyes on your lips.

"I'm not teasing you." You whined a little, doing that innocent thing with your eyes again and Eren pleaded with himself for more restraint.

"Fuck."He let out

You gave into the tension and started by giving his lips a soft peck to test the waters. That peck let Eren put his other hand on the back of your neck and it let you go back in again for another peck, except he kept you in place to actually kiss you.

His warmth completely melted into you as he needily moved his mouth across yours and left you growing more and more needy for him.

If it wasn't for everyone near the both of you, he would have continued, but your sake and his, he agonizingly let go of you.

"I think your friend is waiting for you." He swallowed on nothing, a bright red painting his cheeks.

And as you let your best friend take you away with a pout on your face, he checked his phone to make sure you left your number in there.

And you did.

y/n

[divine17]

↳ READ MY MIND | MASTERLIST

Request: “Fezco with a trouble maker reader? Someone who always end of in beef or getting in fights.” - Anon

+ “I would like to see fezco with a bad bitch like both of them with the energy of only soft with each other” - @possuir-se

+ “hii !! could i possibly request a fezco x reader ? maybe their fwb or have been pining for each other for a while?" - Anon

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fem!Reader, brief kissing/nsfw, mentions of physical fighting, smoking weed

As crazy as it sounded, Fezco was kind of convinced that you were his guardian angel. Or that’s, how it seemed, at least.

Honestly, he never was very good at expressing himself, at putting all the words in the right order to say how he felt. Especially when it was something so nuanced and complicated, but something about you made him want to try. Like, really try. But for now, his own messy thoughts would have to do.

You were the first person he’d ever met who matched his energy, who really understood him. You knew him better than he even really knew himself, and you managed to fill in all of his gaps and cracks and crevices and make him feel so whole. And you were the first person he really, truly trusted, and the first to ever care about him, other than Grandma and Ashtray, even if you were too damn stubborn to ever admit it out loud. He knew, though. He knew that the (admittedly, probably far too many) nights you spent helping him get his shit together or heal his mind with a couple joints and a good conversation, the ones where you made sure to bring dinner for the three of you and check on your boys… They didn’t really mean nothing, did they?

And you never had to say it, but Fezco knew that you loved him, and you liked it that way. Unspoken, like an open secret that both of you just kind of accepted. And things were fine the way they were, a silent, but mutual, agreement.

But it was funny, y’know. You were known by so many people, and had he told any one of them how you were with him and Ash, they’d probably laugh in his face as if he were telling a joke. Never in a million years would someone believe you, Y/N Y/L/N, were capable of being so soft and caring like you were with him. He was sure they’d call him a liar before he even finished his sentence, laughing in disbelief at the thought of you being so gentle as to bring him dinner because you couldn’t much bare the thought of him not eating, for Christ’s sake.

Even Rue looked at you a little funny when she first realized how much you cared for him, but she was glad to see it. It was funny, he thought. But it wasn’t like he could really judge, either; He reminded himself that a lot of people would say the same of him.

And it wasn’t like people thought you were evil or anything, though, you just had a certain reputation to a lot of people. Cold, in a way, and not really one to be fucked with. Sort of a troublemaker, too. Someone always had some story to spin about how you beat the shit out of some guy one time or how you slammed someone’s head in a locker, but honestly? It kind of made you laugh. Most of it was some strange version of East Highland folklore at this point, and Fez knew that. When someone tried to tell him one of those stories, he couldn’t help but smirk, taking a sip of his drink or a hit off his blunt to hide it.

He couldn’t say he was big into all the spirituality shit, or even really knew that much about it, but it was sort of like you were the earth and he was the air, and the two of you couldn’t have worked together more perfectly. You were his own personal angel, sort of, in some weird way.

Outside his mind, his hands moved beneath him as he rolled a joint, fingers smoothing over the edges and folding the thin paper so neatly. He’d done this a million times, and it was obvious with the way he could do it without thinking about it. In, fold, lick, press, slide. You watched quietly and picked nervously at a thread on your jeans, watching him seal the paper and reach for something on the pavement beside you. You look up at him when the lighter flicks, watching as a small plume of smoke drifts from the cherry. He puffs softly, blue eyes fluttering shut as he exhales, making sure to blow it away from you. To him, there was no better way to end the day than sitting on these stupid old concrete stairs with you like this, and you couldn’t say you didn’t think the same.

“We still gotta close up, you know. Smoking doesn’t make the chores go away.” You laugh, your fingers brushing his as you take it from him. He smiles, opening his eyes to see the milky white smoke dancing around your head. It contrasted against the dark sky, and you looked like an angel, almost. He watches your halo drift away into the night before he speaks.

“No, but it makes it better. ‘Specially when you’re ‘round.”

He’s got a lazy smirk on his lips and you can’t help but laugh again as you take another puff, nearly coughing on the smoke, which stupidly makes both of you grin. Through all this, Fezco can’t look away. You’re just so damn pretty.

Lately, it seems like everything you do is just so… Dunno, so… Distracting, he thought. Completely and utterly distracting. He couldn’t get you out of his mind, even on the days he didn’t see you (especially the days he didn’t see you), and everything you did seemed to have some effect or another on him. You felt intoxicating, and it was weird because… Well, he hasn’t ever really felt that way before, and honestly, he wasn’t even really sure what it was. It felt so familiar, but so foreign all the same, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

The two of you take turns talking and taking draws until there’s nothing left of the joint but filter. Fezco’s leaned back against the cool wall and you lay against him, where the shoulder meets the chest. He’s soft and warm in the February wind, and his beard tickles the top of your head. You want nothing more than to stay in this moment with him, head on his chest, but you know it’s getting late.

“Hate to be a buzzkill but if you sweep, I’ll count out the money.” You say, looking up in his direction. He looks back at you through thick lashes. “And I’ll refill the chips if you do drinks.”

“I think you got a deal, mama.” He laughs softly, stretching his legs out. How he calls you ‘mama’ makes your heart beat a little faster, so you stand from your seat on the concrete instead of dwelling on it. You offer a hand to him, which makes him shoot you a sort of puzzled look. All you can do is laugh as he takes it, still pushing himself up off the ground, and walks you back around to the shop.

You make your way to the counter and jump up to sit, pushing his little stack of papers off to the side and opening the register. Money from the shop, money from his and Ash’s deals. It was all the same as you counted it, sorting out each bill neatly. Fives, tens, twenties, the dead president’s heads up and straight all distracted your mind as you counted away under your breath. Fez couldn’t help but look at you, and he thought you looked quite beautiful right now, even in the harsh, flickering fluorescents above.

And honestly? He’s not sure if he’s just a little too high or what, but he really, really wants to kiss you.

You seem to feel him staring, but you don’t mind. Instead, you look up to meet his gaze, which puts a shy little smile on his face. You wanted to be sarcastic, to make some joke about how he “should probably just take a picture,” but you can’t seem to get the words out. They get caught up in your throat, and you let them die there, and suddenly there’s butterflies in your stomach.

“Come here.” You command, your voice soft, almost nervous. He puts down whatever it is he was holding and begins to walk to where you’re sitting, keeping a slight distance between your bodies, thinking it was for the best while he was in whatever weird mood he was in currently.

And truth be told, you aren’t even sure what you’re doing until your hand reaches for his, fingers interlocking thoughtlessly. He shifts a little closer, and it’s only seconds before one of you leans in, your lips pressing together. He kisses you back without the thought of it even crossing his mind. It’s a little awkward, and not very graceful, but it feels kind of electric, somehow. His other hand comes to hold your waist, worried you might fall off the counter. It makes you gasp slightly, but he doesn’t take the chance to slip any tongue. A moment later, you pull away, confused.

“I’m sorry.” You shake your head, not meeting his gaze, not wanting to see his face, fearing he was upset over what you'd just done. “I don’t know what that was.”

“Well, uh, I think we just kissed.”

You really can’t help but laugh at his words, and you can feel the smile spreading across his lips without even seeing it. He always had a way of making you laugh when you needed it most, no matter how awful or weird the situation was.

“Yeah.” You look up, and he looks like he’s in some kind of daze. His eyes wrinkle as he smiles, baby blue eyes meeting yours, and it makes your heart beat a little faster. “Yeah, I think we did.”

“Can I be real?” He asks. You nod, mumbling a small ‘of course’. “I kinda wanna do it again.”

You nod, and he leans forward, your lips meeting again. This time is better than the last. It’s less clumsy. The two of you work in sync now, his hands still on your waist and yours finding it’s way to the back of his head, pressed into his hair. His beard scratches your cheeks but you can’t bring yourself to care, too lost in the feeling of his soft lips against yours.

Meanwhile, he’s not sure he has a full, coherent thought going through his mind. Your lips are so plush and your skin is so soft and he can feel your fingers stroking his hair now, your other hand holding his arm. It’s overwhelming in the very best way possible, and he doesn’t mind a bit.

It’s in that moment that Fezco realizes… That feeling, the familiar yet foreign one, the one he couldn’t quite label. How you were always clouding his mind, how you made him blush so easily, the butterflies in his belly whenever you laughed or touched his arm… He loves you.

He really, really loves you, and he loves you more than just as his best friend.

TAGLIST: @leah-bobeea @maudesfolklore @bigpoppajes

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[mercy-burning]

Honeybee

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: While attending Seraphina's wedding, Y/N discovers that her crush on her best friend’s older brother hasn’t gone away after all these years. Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, alcohol consumption, fingering, penetrative/protected sex Word Count: 5.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: I know I promised a oneshot over the weekend, but I’m a messy, inconsistent bitch, so you get it a day late 😅🥰

———

Looking back, I was starting to wonder if Seraphina only got engaged and asked me to be her maid of honor just to witness my slow descent into a heaping puddle of lovesick mush.

Truly, it was pathetic.

Yeah, yeah, she was getting married because she loved her fiancé and whatever, obviously, but she was also using it as an excuse to try and get me to admit my feelings for her older brother. Feelings, I might add, that only surfaced when I was a middle schooler and went away once he went off to college.

Sure, I'd thought about him on occasion when he was inevitably brought up around Sera's house throughout the years, but that was it. I'd hardly say I was hard-core in love with him. And I was totally prepared to see him for the first time since our high school graduation.

At least, I thought I was.

And Seraphina—the little shit—knew it, too. The smirk on her face the moment we were all in the same room for the first time in ten years made me want to run and hide more than her brother's figure, right in front of me and hotter than ever.

I was mad. Not at Sera as much, because really there was nothing she could do about the fact that he was her brother, but I was mad at myself. Because how in the hell had it stood to reason that a man I actively didn't think about for a whole decade had this much of an effect on me after all this time?

Honestly? I blame the FBI.

If he'd done literally anything else with his life I probably could have made it. Well, not by much if we're being honest, but come on...

Where he'd been a bit nerdy and reserved as I knew him, the man in front of me had clearly changed. Not just physically, though that was also a pleasant surprise. He looked like he'd been through some shit... And he carried himself taller. There was a new air of confidence that perched on his shoulder and helped him along as he talked with old friends and family members at his sister's rehearsal dinner.

Spencer Reid was older and more experienced this time around, and somehow even more goddamn delicious...

I was a total wreck. And it was about to get a whole lot worse.

He was coming this way. Right for me. He'd noticed me staring at him all night, because I couldn't keep my shit together, and now I was absolutely doomed.

Guess it was a good thing I'd practically grown up with him and knew how to act outwardly.

Still, the moment he was up close and flashing me that little smile of his, I felt the pit of my stomach scream out loud, sending shockwaves through my bloodstream.

"Hey, Honeybee. It's been a while."

Fuck. That fucking nickname...

"Spencer... It has."

When we hugged briefly, I tried as hard as I could not to inhale his scent, knowing that not only was that pathetic and embarrassing, but also I'd never stop smelling it otherwise. I did take note, though, of how strong he was now. He wasn't a bodybuilder of any kind, but he was certainly less bony and more defined.

I had to hold back a whine as I felt him let go of me, because I didn't want to leave his warm embrace but also because I didn't think I could stand to look at his face anymore without losing any and all semblance of my cool.

Still, I let him release me, and even then he didn't go far. We only stood inches apart, and my whole body was practically numb at the proximity. It also didn't help that I had to tilt my head up to see his face— It made me feel extremely submissive, and I could already feel myself starting to shrink.

Whether he was amused at that or just at me in general, the feeling I got was the same.

"Sera tells me you've been busy..." He paused, seemingly searching for the right word, though I could tell he already had it on the tip of his tongue. "Modeling?"

I closed my eyes with a sigh. "It was one job for some obscure European magazine, no one in the country's probably ever heard of it... It's not that big of a deal."

Spencer huffed a laugh. "You sound embarrassed..."

How was I supposed to respond to that? If I lied and told him I wasn't embarrassed, he'd figure it out, and if I told him the truth? I'd still be screwed. Honestly, my best bet was changing the subject.

Though, maybe it wasn't— When I asked him about his travels for work, he ignored it and responded with, "Ah, so you are embarrassed."

"N— I am not!"

"You changed the subject so fast I barely had time to blink... There's nothing to be ashamed of, Honeybee, I don't know why you'd—"

"Look, dude, I'm not ashamed, and I'm certainly not changing the subject. We were on the subject of jobs. So there."

I was aware of how childish I sounded, but I stood my ground nonetheless. And thankfully Spencer seemed to let it go, though not without amplifying that amused sparkle in his eye.

"Okay... Well, I've got some more people to see, but, uh... I'll see you around. Maybe you can show me some of your work."

He didn't even give me time to protest. Though if he had, I was sure I wouldn't have been able to get any words out what with that goddamned face he had, twisted and sculpted into all these beautiful ways that were designed specifically to make me a blubbering hot mess.

I could only gather the courage to nod in response, though he'd turned his back and walked away by the time I got it out.

———

All things considered, I'd managed to avoid him for the majority of the wedding festivities. I focused all my energy on being happy to see my best friend get married, and likewise it seemed that Spencer was inclined to do the same.

He walked his sister down the aisle, and seeing them both so happy truly made my heart sing. To think I'd known them since we were all kids more or less, and now they were both successful, beautiful human beings... It warmed me to my core, and despite the other flames that stung my insides at seeing Spencer in his tux, thing were going swimmingly.

That being said, we were just about two hours into the reception, and there was absolutely nothing stopping me from begging Seraphina to put me out of my misery.

Except maybe pints upon pints of alcohol.

In hindsight, that may not have been a good idea, though. Because as much as the open bar had it benefits, it also hated me. It was mostly my fault, because I was stupid enough to forget that I get frisky when I'm drunk, but that didn't stop me from blaming the bartender for continuing to serve me.

I wasn't quite at the point of all-out inebriation, but I was definitely toeing the line between tipsy flirting and total disaster.

And when Spencer came over to ask me to dance, I knew I was doomed.

I didn't find myself caring about what he was saying, only the fact that he was there, in front of me, putting his hands on me and breathing in the same air that I was putting out. My entire body buzzed, and while I would have panicked otherwise, my tipsy brain welcomed the tingle and made me a bit bolder.

"You enjoying yourself tonight?" he asked, like he couldn't already tell that I was having the time of my life.

"No way. You suck at dancing." The joke rolled off my tongue with ease, a product of years spent teasing him for countless things.

And just like all those times before, he rolled his eyes and then immediately flashed an affectionate smile all the same.

I should have stopped there, maybe tried to do something a bit more romantic like teach him how to dance... Placing his hands and fixing his posture, taking the time to gracefully have an excuse for exploring his body with my hands...

But romance took a backseat when I pressed myself in even closer to him and hummed just under his jawline. "Mmm, but I bet you're good at other things..."

I felt his hands grip my waist just a little tighter, and his throat visibly twitched. "How much have you had to drink, Honeybee?"

"Spencer," I whined, pressing my face into his neck. "Don't tell me you're turning me down, please..."

I could tell by the way he was touching me, his hands wavering and undecided, and the way his heartbeat thrummed loudly and quickly against my own that he wanted nothing more than to entertain my desires.

The thought made me quiver and press further into him. I kissed his jawline tenderly, silently begging him to whisk me away and finally make me his, but it broke my heart a little to feel him peel away from me.

When he looked into my eyes though, I swore the gleam in his own is what put me back together. It could have been the liquor swimming around in my body that made me feel lightheaded, but when Spencer lifted my chin with his fingers and looked me over, I knew that wasn't it. It was wholeheartedly, without a doubt, him.

"Tell you what... You get sobered up by the end of the night, and maybe I'll come find you."

I wanted to nod, but his gentle grip on my chin held me steady—At least until he glided his fingertips down my throat and over my shoulder. Then I downright slumped forward with a whine and a weak nod that seemed to make him smile.

"Thank you for the dance," he said earnestly, leaning forward to press the lightest of kisses to my temple.

Just like that he was gone, and I wanted him back almost immediately.

———

And so the night dragged on, and the longer I sobered up the more it dawned on me what the fuck just happened— What the fuck was going to happen, too, if I played my cards right.

It didn't help that I could practically feel Spencer's eyes on me the whole time. Probably to make sure I really wasn't drinking anymore, a fact that only made this feel more real.

On top of it all, I was starting to lose count of the amount of men here who were trying to buy me drinks. Even if the one man I really wanted tonight hadn't given me a deal, I still wouldn't have accepted them, if only for the pathetic fact that I would have been trying to catch his attention instead.

So much for trying to convince myself I wasn't in love with him...

Was that really what it was? It had to be, right?

Either way, I was determined to find out, and that meant declining every flirtatious offer to drink and dance.

Unfortunately, Seraphina seemed to notice, even on the one day in her entire life she shouldn't have been thinking about anyone but herself. "You're not having fun," she pouted, plopping down next to me and handing me a shot. "Have fun."

I laughed and set the tiny glass down on the table. "I am having fun, I'm just... tired. And being hungover tomorrow does not sound fun."

"Mmm," she responded, visibly suspicious.

I didn't really know what to say to her to convince her not to be though, so I grabbed her hand and smiled. "You're having fun though, right? 'Cause I will not hesitate to kick someone's ass if you're not."

With a bellowing laugh mildly tainted with the smell of champagne, Seraphina squeezed my hand and leaned in close. "I'm having the best time. I couldn't be happier."

"Well, good. You deserve it."

After a small moment of silent shared smiles, my best friend glanced over elsewhere and then back to me with that look in her eye that kind of scared me.

And her words were even scarier... "So, you talk to Spencer at all tonight?"

"Uh— Yeah... Briefly."

"Mhmm... Y'know, I saw you two dancing together earlier. You seemed reeeally close..."

There I was, getting defensive in front of a Reid sibling for the second time that night. And just like before, I was awful at being subtle. "Sera, stop it! It was just a dance..."

"Bullshit! He had his hands all over you, and he had that gross-ass, dreamy-ass look in his eye! He so wants to sleep with you!"

"Sera!" I gently shoved her and tried not to smile at the goofy smile she had plastered on her face.

"Am I wrong?"

"I... I don't..."

"Ha! I'm not wrong!"

The defeated look in my eye did nothing to disconfirm her story.

"So, what's stopping you from letting him?"

I went wide-eyed. "Se—You... You seriously would... You're okay with this? It doesn't... gross you out?"

There were a lot of things I could have seen Seraphina do in that moment, but pinching and yelling at me were not any of them. "Y/N! You idiot! I've been trying to get you two together for years! If I knew all it took was me getting married, I would have accepted Theo Decker's proposal..."

"Wa— In fifth grade? Sera, that wasn't—"

"I know, but you get what I mean! You two are so painfully attracted to each other, it physically hurts me. It's actually disgusting, but if it means there's a chance that you might get to be my sister? I say go for it."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "You... You really mean that?"

"What, you think I'd joke about that?"

Everything that she conveyed to me within the look in her eyes, her words, and the squeezing of her hand over mine told me she was sincere.

"I love you, you know," I told her just as sincerely.

Her smile was as radiant as ever, but the teasing tone in her voice was enough to make me scowl again. "Right back at'cha, Honeybee. Just do me a favor and don't tell me any details. I don't wanna know."

I stuck my tongue out at her, followed by a short shove. "Oh, and as soon as you get back from your honeymoon? I'm kicking your ass for telling him about that nude shoot I did for that magazine..."

She only grinned. "Why? I think I did you a favor..."

I rolled my eyes at her, but in the end, I guess she was right.

———

I shouldn't have been pacing. Really, it was pretty fucking embarrassing the way I walked in circles around my hotel room, waiting for a knock at the door or a text message on my phone, or something to let me know that Spencer had really meant what he said and was on his way to come find me.

I didn't have a single drink after we danced, and I swear to God, if he made me go through this entire night all nervous without the liquor to calm me down, for nothing? I was going to kill him tomorrow.

Later today... Whatever.

The point? I was well and truly ready to feel him taking up my personal space, and I was going to feel like a real idiot if I waited around and prepped and everything, only for him not to show. The funny thing was, it was almost two in the morning, and I would have stayed up until the sun rose for him.

Thank God he had the decency to save me the trouble.

A short two-rap knock on the door made me jump, but I ran at it full-speed, flinging the large wooden panel open and letting its momentum blow cool wind over my body. And I needed it, too.

Because standing right in front of me was Spencer Reid in all his semi-exhausted glory. His outfit was loosened, buttons undone and bowtie untied, hanging limp around his neck. His hair sat wild atop his head and a thin layer of sweat coated his skin. Maybe that last part sounded gross, but looking at him? It was anything but.

Especially when he flashed me that damned smirk. "Someone's eager..."

I tried not to sound as dumbfounded by his presence as I felt. "Well, you made me a good offer I couldn't refuse. Excuse me for being excited."

"And here I thought all this time you hated me, Honeybee..."

"That would be easier, wouldn't it?"

His grin transformed into a full-on beaming smile then, and it only made my skin feel warmer and my heart beat faster. I returned his smile with my own, so genuinely happy to see him again after all this time, and with the brightest show of happiness I'd ever seen.

Turns out, smiling like a lovesick idiot was all I was capable of.

"Are you... gonna let me in?"

The low suggestive tone in his voice had me springing into action, stepping back and allowing him the space to come in. And though he had plenty of room, Spencer still decided to brush his body over mine as he passed. His eyes bore into my own as he gently kicked the door shut and enveloped us in a dimness that came from cheap hotel lighting.

Still, I was unable to speak, and hardly able to even breathe, with each passing second.

And then, his hands were on my waist, pulling me to him with a softness that matched the whisper in his throat as he said, "C'mere..." Looking up at him then, his fingers burning holes through the thin fabric of my dress while he looked back down me, eyes swimming in tender desire... It almost didn't even feel real.

And it certainly didn't feel real when he leaned in, one of his hands coming up to touch my face while the other pressed me firmly against him.

The moment his lips touched mine, I was gone. I positively melted into him, so much so that it felt like I was just becoming a part of him entirely, losing myself in the moment and unwilling to let it go.

Even when he sighed against my lips and parted his own to kiss me deeper, I just followed suit and let him take the lead. We moved together as one, fluidly and with as much eagerness was possible. I'd wanted to get a taste of him for so long, and he obviously felt the same way, what with the thorough and precise exploring his tongue did with my own. It shot warmth throughout my whole being, and my legs threatened to buckle underneath me from how weak they felt.

Spencer seemed to understand what was happening to me, because as soon as I'd thought it, he was just as quick to literally sweep me off my feet, scooping me up bridal style and carrying me over to the large bed in the middle of the room.

"I know we're at a wedding and all, but geez," I laughed, watching as he laid me down gently and crawled over my body. "A little much?"

He only rolled his eyes. "Well, excuse me for trying to be romantic..."

"Mmm, I think you're just being an overachiever. As per usual."

That remark earned me a pinning of my wrists above my head, and the fire that erupted in my very core at my current position only cemented that this was very real.

Spencer grinned, his hips coming down to roll over mine teasingly. He spoke nice and slowly, his voice slicing through my soul like smooth butter. "Oh, Honeybee, I'll show you an overachiever..."

Once again I was rendered speechless. Not like I expected to be talking his ear off or anything, but words genuinely escaped me.

Luckily, Spencer didn't seem to mind. In fact, he knew exactly what to do next, and it made me even hungrier for him than ever before.

He captured my lips in another dizzying kiss, his hands still flexing over my wrists to keep them steady. I moaned softly and writhed against him, and though I would have liked to say that it was a conscious choice to coax him to give me more, really it was just me being unable to handle the fact that this was actually happening.

Actually, if not for the overwhelming and familiar scent of him, I would have thought I was only imagining it.

But alas, here he was in all his floral peppermint glory, grinding his hips down into mine and kissing me like I'd never been kissed before, driving me mad with each adept movement.

Thankfully he seemed to get as lost in the moment as I was, because he loosened my wrists in his grip, and I broke free, flying my hands in between us and down to his belt.

His lips pulled away from mine with a soft smack, a smile forming smugly upon them. "Have you no patience?"

As my fingers fumbled with the metal and leather, I pressed my nose to his and quickly pecked his mouth. "I thought we already established that I have no patience the moment I opened the door..."

"Fair... But still..."

Spencer grabbed my hands again, moving them to my sides and then hiking my dress up slowly. His skin was hot against my own, and it took everything I had not to break down begging for him.

And then he spoke again, his lips barely grazing mine as he did. "Teasing you is so much fun..."

I couldn't really explain what sound escaped me then, but it reminded me of a disgruntled animal, erupting from my throat and getting muffled the moment I took my hands and brought his face to mine. I kissed him fervently as his hands matched the intense nature of my affections— With every soft groan I gave him, he returned it with an inch higher up my leg, until eventually he was toying with the hem of my underwear.

Unable to take it anymore, I gave in and mumbled the most desperate plea I could think of. (Like I had to think that hard...)

"Spencer, please..."

I half expected him to tease me again, but this time I felt him tremble over my body. His fingers slipped under the satin of my underwear and he sighed into my mouth. "God, how could I ever say no to you..."

No sooner had the words left his mouth did he spread me apart with his fingertips, getting a feel for me and a broken sigh falling from his tongue and onto my own. I captured it and kissed him with as much precision as I could while under the influence of his hands working wonders.

Truly, his hands hand a magic of their own that should have been considered as an eighth Wonder of the World. They flexed in all the right places, splitting me open and caressing the most sensitive parts of me, simultaneously breaking me apart and putting me back together...

God, and those was only his hands...

The thought of what else he had waiting for me made me cry out into his mouth, though I'm sure it also had to do with the fact that his fingers were curling expertly inside me and summoning an orgasm that I knew would satisfy us both.

I almost cried out again when his lips left mine, but then they travelled to my neck and paid it the most glorious attention. The alternation of his fingers and his tongue on different spots of my body had me in shambles, and it took no longer than a few seconds to snap.

"Fuck, that's my girl," Spencer grumbled into my neck, helping me through my orgasm. "That's it, honey..."

What I wouldn't have given to hear him talk to me like that until the end of time... His words, their tone and praise seeping into my skin and bringing my soul to life... Coupled with his soft hands and his even softer breath fanning over my neck, I was just about ready to ask him to keep talking to me, to say my name and never stop.

He pulled away though, removing his hand from my lower half and bringing it up to his mouth, and I had the feeling my request wouldn't be a problem.

Spencer's eyes rolled back and his tongue gathered my arousal off his long, well-endowed fingers. And though I could hear his groan well and clear, I felt it more than anything. It reverberated through my body and brought me more to life in a way I never thought imaginable.

No one had ever made me feel that way with one single sound, and that's how I knew.

I thought I knew it from the start—from when we were growing up—that I wanted to be near him forever. But It was always just a silly dream, something I was never quite able to reach, and as I got older and we rarely saw each other, it got harder to even imagine anymore.

Now I didn't have to imagine.

Spencer Reid was right in front of me, touching me, tasting me, verbally praising me with sounds I'd only ever dreamed of...

I wanted him to have his moment, because I was positive he'd wanted this just as much as I did, but this sappy sort of revelation I was having made it nearly impossible to not be utterly wrapped up in him, and I wanted more.

So I wiggled and adjusted myself underneath him before grabbing his hand and placing it over my heart. His eyes widened softly at the sight of me, and I knew then that he was taking the time to memorize my face, and the image of his hand resting at my chest, right where my heart was encased beneath bones, flesh, and fabric.

"I could look at you forever," he whispered then.

I would have been ashamed to admit that I whimpered when he said it, but the way he looked at me afterwards made me feel the exact opposite.

He smiled, using his other hand to come up and touch my face. "You want it bad, don't you, Honeybee?"

I didn't even argue with him this time. My head nodded and my hands reached out to pull him closer. "I want you... More than I've ever wanted anything."

Before he leaned down to kiss me, I could have swore he looked like he was going to shed a tear. The duality of him, his ability to be all teasing and cocky one second and then reduced to a lovesick mess at just a few words from me the next, made my heart sing.

And it kept singing, a sweet, steady melody as Spencer kissed me and touched me like he meant it.

Only this time, he didn't pause or tease me with theatrics. He went straight for the kill, fetching a condom from his pants pocket and then sliding the material down, all while keeping me trapped under his embrace. I welcomed it naturally, humming happily into his neck and jawline and anywhere I could reach as he got us both fully undressed and situated, until finally he had the condom on and his hands rested nicely on either side of my head.

"Promise not to sting me?"

I laughed, draping my arms over his shoulders and flashing him a wink. "Mmm, only if you promise to give it to me good..."

"Deal."

He slowly pushed into me then, and the stretch was far more satisfying than his fingers, though I was in no position to complain either way. If he was even half as skilled with his hips as he was with his hands (which I had no doubts about whatsoever), then neither of us had anything to worry about.

It didn't take long for us to find our rhythm, but I didn't have time to think about that. I was so consumed with just the feeling of him being everywhere that technicalities didn't matter.

That being said, the technicalities were really fucking good.

His hips snapped into mine with sharp precision, and I felt it deep within my bones. My cunt clung around him willingly and accordingly, as did my legs, which hooked over his waist as I dug my heels into his ass.

Meanwhile Spencer grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head again, this time interlocking our fingers and then leaning down to kiss me deeply. It was met with my undying welcome, of course, but with the way he was fucking me, deep and with a devotion that nearly exploded my heart, I couldn't help but whine out for more.

His name was all I could manage.

"What do you want, Honeybee?" he cooed, holding himself deep inside me and grinding his hips in small circles that made it harder to breathe.

"M—More... I..."

"Can you be more specific?"

How he could be such a cocky little shit in this moment I wasn't sure, and it frustrated me to no end. He knew damn well what I wanted, and I knew just the thing that would make him give it to me.

I have him the biggest pout I could, also whining out the most pathetic, "More," in my arsenal. And with a roll of my hips up into his, I gasped out at how deep he got, and whined out again.

"Spoiled brat," Spencer grunted in defeat, retreating only to slam into me at full force.

My small gasps and cries turned into full-blown howls of searing pleasure as he fucked me then. My head tipped back and my back arched slightly, exposing my neck and chest to him, and he took it as an invitation to lean down and put his mouth anywhere he could reach. I was sure there would be small nicks and bruises littered over my skin the next morning, and just thinking of everyone seeing them, seeing Spencer's mark on me, made it harder to prolong the inevitable.

I came with a shout, flexing my hands into his as my body tensed then relaxed, over and over while he whispered praises into my skin. He followed soon after, shoving his face into my neck and muffling the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard as he came.

By then his hands had loosened, so I snuck my own away from his and brought them over to hug him close. One hand knotted into his hair while the other grazed over his back. The thin sheen of sweat forming over his skin once again was more enticing than it probably sounded, but I loved it all the same. I felt him relax and bring his arms down to rest at my sides, his fingertips dancing lightly over my skin and giving me goosebumps.

Then out of nowhere, he said something that confused and mildly panicked me. "I thought you said you wouldn't sting me..."

I pulled away to try and look at his face, loosening my grip on his body. "A—Am I hurting you? I'm sorry..."

He laughed though, peppering tiny kisses up my neck until he got to my jaw. "You're not hurting me, Honeybee... You've just... stung my heart, that's all."

"I... Is that a bad thing?"

"It's a strange thing..."

He looked at me like I was the one thing on the planet he adored, but his words sounded different.

I raised an eyebrow. "You're not helping me understand..."

With another laugh, Spencer Kissed my cheek and rolled off of me, settling for laying on his side and turning me to face him. "Do you remember how I gave you your nickname?"

Despite my confusion about all of this, I entertained him with a huffed laugh. "Yeah, I spilled honey all over my shorts without realizing it, and I had ants all over me in a matter of minutes. I was terrified."

"I was highly amused."

I shoved him. "Yeah, dork, I know you were! You and Seraphina both thought it was the funniest thing on the planet, and then your mom had to come out and spray me down with a hose before I came back in the house."

Spencer barked a laugh, and I wanted to punch it right out of his mouth.

"Tell me again why this is relevant to our current situation?" I reminded him with and sigh, already over his antics.

Thankfully he seemed to take pity on me; He reached a hand out and played with a strand of my hair, smiling even brighter than when I opened the door for him. "That's when I started to feel it. You were just... so cute all angry at me and Sera for laughing, and it... It changed everything."

"You know, that would be more romantic if I hadn't been covered in bugs," I responded with a laugh.

"It's true! And it confused the hell out of me, because how was I supposed to cope with the fact that I actually had a crush on my little sister's best friend like some stupid cliché? You were always so feisty after that, too, and it certainly didn't help... And when I graduated and went off to college, I thought... I thought there was no chance you would ever be able to break the heart you'd managed to steal."

He swiped his thumb gently over my bottom lip and smiled, his eyes going all tear-y again. It sent butterflies through my whole body.

"I would never even dream of breaking your heart, Spencer..."

Our foreheads pressed together then, and the unwavering adoration in his voice when he spoke made me forget all prior confusion and minor embarrassment over re-living our origins.

All that mattered was that he was here, holding me in his arms and making me feel like the luckiest woman in the world.

"I know you won't, Honeybee."

———

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[okey-fucking-dokey]

"Get on with it. Ain't got all day - annghh! Goddamn - motherfucking son of a bitch - fuck!"

Lucy didn’t flinch at the venom pouring from Cooper’s tongue. He was a man that directed his anger (regardless of its source) at what was in front of him. It hadn’t taken long to learn that. Lucy could acknowledge that this wasn’t the time for niceties, not that she expected anything of the sort to come from her newest travelling companion. There was a tentative balance that had been forged in the short time they’d willingly co-existed together- one that seemed to hang precariously in the balance every time Cooper lost his head. A line in Lucy’s shoulders hardened defensively at the agitation, but she pressed on, prepping the stimpak’s needle. 

There wasn’t a single part of Lucy that relished in causing pain to another person. She’d never really considered empathy to be an optional trait until setting foot in the wasteland. The pain she’d just caused Cooper was practical and necessary, regrettable as it was. Even still, it was difficult to recognise the ease with which she’d managed the gruesome act, much less her lack of apology for the inconvenience and injustice of it all. Perhaps it would have been a more difficult favour to perform if they’d met under kinder circumstances. 

As Dogmeat bounded over, eyes as wide as saucers at the sight of a bloodied, but seemingly functional item to play fetch with, Lucy paused. For a split second it looked as though the ghoul was about to unleash his vile temper on Dogmeat. Only once Cooper had stilled to direct his full focus down at the grinning dog did Lucy take the opportunity to empty the stimpak into the grisly wound. 

She didn’t move as a hand clamped down on her wrist. Unflinching, Lucy levelled with the glare being shot up at her. 

Really? 

The edges of disbelief crept into the tired lines of her face, seemingly answering Cooper’s paranoia in tandem with the empty stimpak. Only once he let go did she resume clearing away their supplies, rubbing at her wrist to shake the residual feeling of pressure. 

It was impossible not to look at the ghoul like he’d grown a second head as he wiped a dirtied rag across the fresh wound. If he’d have waited even a matter of seconds, it would have been closed before he’d introduced all manner of unsanitary additions to raw skin. Sure, blood was messy, but at least it flushed out the dirt and mess. Never mind. It wasn’t worth fighting every battle. Besides, Cooper didn’t seem like the kind of guy with a death wish. 

"...Shouldn't waste those," 

Yeah, well I’m not the one who had a railway spike hanging out of me. Lucy curbed the urge to quip back. 

“I’m not.” She responded steadily, in a tone that didn’t invite argument. You didn’t ever do the right thing for thanks, but the absence of common courtesy from where Cooper was sitting was impossible to miss. 

"You need 'em more than me."

Strictly speaking, was that even true? So far Cooper seemed to have a pretty bad track record for keeping himself out of harm’s way. It really did feel like he was splitting hairs sometimes. From what Lucy had seen, a ghoul could recover faster than a regular person, but when the luxury of time wasn’t involved, the playing field was pretty even. Between the gunfire of their fight, Dogmeat’s barking and Cooper’s outburst of expletives, they really were ringing the proverbial dinner bell to whatever else was out there. 

Anyway, since when was what she needed something Cooper gave so much as a second thought towards?

“Not right now I don’t.” Lucy replied simply as she wedged the soiled end of the spike into the ground to cover the blood and trudged back around to face Cooper from Dogmeat’s side. 

Thankfully, the immediate stress and tension seemed to have dissipated along with the worst of Cooper’s pain- something that admittedly made it somewhat easier to continue with doing the decent thing without feeling as though a gun was going to be pointed at her at the slightest move. 

“But I don’t like our odds if we stick around here much longer.” She’d allow him that much. This patch of their journey had been particularly rife with heathens, raiders and all manner of interruptions, gradually pushing them further and further off the route she’d plotted on her pip-boy. 

A hand extended towards Cooper in an unspoken invitation to shift them from their position in the open. 

“Ready when you are.”

In a frenzy of agitated movement, Cooper folded, sucking in a deep breath of a mystery vial (and seemingly suffering for the trouble of doing so). 

"...Fine. C'mere, vaultie. Let's see if your angle's any better, then."

If there was an award to be had for making normal exchanges sound like threats, Lucy would have given it to Cooper. Now, admittedly, she’d have had her own reservations about asking anyone for help with something so precarious. Help or none, there wasn’t going to be a painless way of doing this, and this knowledge had made her companion more feral than usual. It was a simple case of shooting the messenger. Well. Hopefully not shooting the messenger, in this case. 

Drawing a sharp breath, Lucy steeled herself as she closed the distance between them, wearing her grimace only once she’d slipped into the ghoul’s blind spot to survey the point of impact. It was hardly the most gruesome thing she’d seen or done in her short time above ground, but the bristling ghoul attached to their problem was definitely an added complication. Incidents like these weren’t exactly covered in great detail in Vault-Tec’s handy dandy ‘First Aid for the Fine Citizen’. In fact, the general advice around this kind of thing was that you really weren’t supposed to remove what had impaled you.

A brief, surveying glance catalogued their surroundings. If the sound of gunfire didn’t attract trouble, the wasteland creatures catching the scent of blood and dead raiders certainly would. Cooper hadn’t moved a great distance since he’d been hit, and with his stifled coughing it was clear they weren’t going to be getting far with the iron still lodged deep in his side. 

Working quickly and quietly - working together- was going to have to become one of Cooper’s new priorities if they were going to avoid getting caught in another skirmish. 

“Oh holy moly.” The words tumbled from her at the first good look at what they were dealing with. Well, that was definitely going to need a stimpak once it came out. It wasn’t exactly who Lucy had planned on using the only useful item left from her scavenging on, but she supposed there was a stroke of luck in not being the one who was injured badly enough to need it. After pocketing the syringe from her pack, Lucy extended a tentative hand to carefully remove the entangled coat from the mess. An apology was written across her face as she lifted the hem of the ghoul’s shirt- just enough to catch a glimpse at the wound underneath it before carefully raising it enough for it to no longer be in the way. 

“Just- hold still, okay?” She didn’t know what the point in trying to placate him was, just that it felt fair to give warning for what was coming. 

Two hands found their grip on the metal, overhand and underhand locked into place. Lucy paused, just long enough for Cooper to feel the adjustment and to ensure he wasn’t going to move or protest before beginning to pull.

[thefanficmonster]

Corpse’s Girl

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Bullying, Swearing, Derogatory Terms

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Summary: Y/N’s life as a regular college student is forever stripped away from her when her relationship with the famous YouTuber Corpse Husband is accidentally revealed during an online class of hers. How will she cope with the sudden spotlight and the unwanted attention, some of which crosses into bullying?

Requested by my amazing Tumblr friend @itsminniekat 🥰 She’s been reading and liking my works since day one and I honestly couldn’t be more grateful. If you’re reading this, all I can say is thank you, darling. Thank you so much for sticking by my blog even when I posted some crappy fics. I’ll make sure this ain’t one of them. Love you with all my heart. ❤❤❤

P.S. - I named the mean character with my name so I hope no one who reads this has the same name. Wouldn’t want any of you feeling like the villain 😘

Who knew online class would be even more boring than being physically present for a lecture? Seriously, I find myself doing the weirdest of crap to entertain myself - like trying to balance a pen on the tip of my nose for example. I jot down some notes every now and then but that’s basically it. My mind can not fathom the concept on concentrating on whatever my professors are going on and on about. Well, full disclosure, I couldn’t concentrate even if I wanted to, especially with my boyfriend streaming in the other room.

He’s currently playing Among Us with his usual gaming squad. Listening to his input during the discussions, I can always tell when he’s lying. I honestly find it hilarious that his friends can’t pick up when he’s bullshitting them. I sometimes wonder if he has brainwashed them. And that’s one of the main reasons we don’t play Among Us together - he can’t lie to me. Not only do I pick up on his con with ease, but he always says he feels bad when he lies to me which is just the sweetest thing. Also, I refuse to play cause I’m shy. His friends are all well-known content creators and I’m a literal nobody. Every now and then I find myself wondering why Corpse is even with me. He’s always quick to push those thoughts out of my head and make sure they don’t return on a long notice, but they do interrupt my peace from time to time.

“Y/N, do you know?“ The sound of my professor saying my name takes me out of my eavesdropping of Corpse’s stream.

I panic, but quickly improvise, “Sorry, my internet is slow, you cut out for a second. What was the question?” I feel my face heating up, making me glad we are allowed to keep our cameras off.

“Question number 15 on page 82 in your textbook. Do you know the answer to it?“ My professor repeats himself, his tone annoyed.

I look down at the page that’s already opened in front of me. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the question is rather easy.

“Yeah, um, it’s...“ Suddenly, Corpse’s laugh reaches my room loud and clear. There’s no doubt my mic picked up the noise, especially since the door to my room is open.

The color drains from my face as I hurry to say the answer and remute myself. My eyes are wide as I stare at my screen, hoping no one will acknowledge that very recognizable laugh.

“OMG Y/N, are you watching a Corpse Husband stream in class?” One of the bitches in my class, Vy, speaks up, “Not a very goody-two-shoe move on your part, dear.” 

I purposely unmute my mic to mumble a quick ‘Shut up, bitch’ that somehow manages to fly under my professor’s radar and the class continues. It’s the first time something like this has happened and I���m not sure if I handled it properly or not.

The class ends shortly after, allowing me a sigh of relief as I disconnect from the meeting. 

“Fucking finally.“ I mumble to myself, leaning back in my desk chair. Tilting my head backwards, I see Corpse standing in the doorframe. I grin, not only because his presence itself makes me ten times happier, but also because he’s upside down from my viewpoint. “Well, hello there! How long have you been spying on me?“

He struts over to me, leaning his face over mine, “Long enough.” His lips linger above mine without any actual contact before he pulls away, allowing me to sit up straight and proper in the chair. “You still have classes?”

I nod my head while disappointedly rolling my eyes, “Yeah. One more. Shouldn’t be too bad since it’s English Lit. You’re done streaming?”

“Yeah, I just have some other things to do. I haven’t done a narration video in a while, I miss making that type of content.“ He plops down on my bed, running a hand through his messy black curls.

“Weren’t you recording some lines a few days ago?“ I frown as I try to recall if what I’m referring to actually happened or my brain is too fried to decipher reality from my bootleg perception of it. Online class, man - messes with your head like sleeping pills - makes you disoriented and exhausted with barely doing anything other than trying to wrap your brain around a lecture or two.

He hums affirmatively, “It’s not a finished project and I don’t even know if I’ll use those or rerecord them. I’ll have to listen to them again before I make a final decision.“

I tilt his chin upwards with my pointer finger, a gesture he has told me he finds very endearing, “I’m sure they’re great and you just refuse to be satisfied. Everything you do is great.“

He smiles a small, shy smile, his fingers gently wrapping around my wrist, holding my hand in place, “You’re biased. You like me too much to tell me when I do some bullshit.”

I scoff, “You know that isn’t true. If someone’s gonna kick your butt in formation, it’s gonna be me.“ I give him a quick kiss on the forehead before pulling away from him, “Go on, now. I have a class to attend. You distract me enough while you’re in the other room, I can only imagine how hard it’d be for me to focus if you were right by my side.“

He smirks, bowing a little as he makes his way out of the room, “You flatter me.”

I playfully roll my eyes, getting my headset back on as I tap the last class for the day. We have an assignment due to the start of the class which we’ll have to present if the professor approved of it. We basically had to write a psychoanalysis of a character from any book of our choice. I chose Heathcliff from ‘Wuthering Heights’ which is one of my favorite books of all time. I’m proud of what I wrote and the way I wrote it, but I’ve always barely scraped by with a B in this class, a B+ if I’m lucky, so I’ve never gotten any major credit, even when I put my 110% in the assignments and projects.

Well, color me surprised when the professor calls on me first to read my work, complimenting it on its detailed and specific nature. I get my printed assignment out in front of me and unmute myself.

“I wrote a psychoanalysis on for Heathcliff, a character from Emily Bronte’s novel ‘Wuthering Heights’.“ Just after I say this line, Corpse’s voice booms throughout the whole apartment, no doubt being picked up by my mic. It doesn’t sound like he’s actually talking, he can’t be that loud. I put two and two together when I recognize the lines he’s saying - the ones he recorded a few days ago. They’re coming from his computer speakers. He probably didn’t check the volume before playing back the recording.

I mute myself as quickly as possible, but it’s too late. The voice dies down as Corpse probably turned down the speakers.

My professor, who is already done with this lecture, just annoyedly remarks, her words overdosed with sarcasm: “Read your assignment and you can go back to whatever it is you are watching.”

“Wow, Y/N! Again?! Are you one of those crazy obsessed fans or something? Is Corpse Husband all you watch?“ This bitch is really poking a stick at me, huh? The only crazy obsessed fan here is her, and my friends but they are allowed. Little do all of them know, I am obsessed but not simply over a YouTuber. I’m obsessed with my boyfriend who just happens to be a YouTuber.

“No commentary, please.“ The professor scolds her, “Go on, Y/N.“

I finish reading without any other disturbances. The professor compliments my essay again when I’m done, the small incident at the beginning forgotten already. Well, not by everyone. One of my friends shot me a quick text to joke about it which only earned an eye roll from me.

My friends don’t know that I’m dating Corpse either. As I said, they are simping HARD over him while I act the most indifferent on the subject. Whenever they ask my opinion on him I either say ‘he’s OK’ or just avoid answering completely. I know saying anything more enthusiastic than that would turn into a snowball rolling down a snowy hill - I’d just keep babbling about how nice, amazing, wonderful and a gift to this world Corpse is, inevitably revealing our relationship in the process.

I’m afraid of revealing my relationship with Corpse in front of these people. They are all run on jealousy and selfishness and I can only imagine how mean they’d be about it. I’m already not too fond of them, it would only be worse if any of my personal life was exposed.

When the class finally ends I remove my headset, putting my forehead down on the desk, barely missing the keyboard. I groan in frustration and anger at myself for not fighting back. I could’ve and should’ve said something - ANYTHING. But what? That’s a question I can’t find the answer to.

“Hey...“ Corpse’s hesitant voice comes from behind me, “You ok?“

I straighten my posture, turning to him with a smile. “Yeah, but these people suck.”

I get up from my chair as he approaches me, basically falling in his arms. The comfort I feel radiating off of him makes me relax, forget the past hour or so. He has always had this effect on me. Like my own personal kryptonite to my anger and anxiety.

“Did I get you in any trouble because of that?“ His voice shows clear concern and guilt. 

I wrap my arms around him tighter, burying my head in his chest. “No, don’t worry about it.“ 

And I really wasn’t in trouble. Not until now that the video is officially posted....

I can call these people dumb all I want but they sure put two and two together awfully fast. They recognized the lines they heard during class as the same ones from his new video that came out almost a week after the incident, aka two days ago. It’s safe to say I haven’t touched my phone or computer since.

“This is all my fault.“

Of all the horrible things I suspected would happen this has to be the worst - Corpse is blaming himself for it. I am prepared to take all the shit these people have to throw at me but seeing Corpse beating himself up over this is killing me. No amount of convincing can change his mind. Nothing I say helps.

“Please, stop doing this to yourself. Non of this is your fault, Corpse.“ I’ve repeated this sentence more than a thousand time these past forty eight hours, each time saying it more and more desperately.

“All of it is my fault, Y/N. I’m so sorry. I hate myself so much.“ Has been his reply single time.

 I can’t watch him be so mean to himself. It’s the most conflicting thing when the person you love most is torturing themselves. It’s easy if it’s someone else doing it, you just kick their ass. But what are you supposed to do when the person you want to protect is the same one you need to protect them from.

Corpse has shut himself away in his recording room these past few hours and though he clearly needs to be alone, he still left the door open just a crack cause he knows I’ll be worried sick otherwise.

While I’m alone in the living room, I’ve finally managed to brace myself and build enough courage to power up my laptop. Last time it was on it was going mad with notifications.

“It’s digital. Only digital. It can’t hurt you too badly if it can’t touch you, right?“ I mumble to myself, already frustrated despite not having yet seen all the horrors that await me.

And horrors there were. Everywhere. Twitter. Instagram. Facebook.

My grades. Some pictures of me no one has ever seen. My school files. People from my class tweeting Corpse to ‘expose’ me for the ‘slut’ or ‘bitch’ I really am. Corpse hasn’t touched social media either and I plan on making sure it stays that way. God only knows how much worse he’ll get if he sees these claims.

And then, like a notification sent straight from hell, an email from my professor.

Practical lectures on Friday. Be here at 9 AM. Don’t forget your mask and gloves.

Good thing I opened my laptop when I did. Friday is tomorrow and I need to prepare for this day. Not only do I need to hit the books but I need to toughen up a bit. I can’t go there looking like I feel - like a mess.

Alright, time to put the brave face on. No more wallowing in it, at least not until tomorrow afternoon.

I make a study plan and hop in the shower. I feel the need to apologize to my hair for washing it so roughly, basically yanking at my strands from frustration that has been suppressed for too long.

I get our of the boiling hot shower, red as a lobster, and change into some clean comfortable clothes and put my ass in study mode. I remove all the scary expectations of the morning to come from my mind and let the information the textbooks has to offer seep into my brain.

                                                            *  *  *

I’m about to head out and, despite my put-together composure, I am a wreck inside. I actually put effort into my appearance, I mean - I even styled my hair. A pretty façade to hide a ruin.

I saw my friends’ texts last night, all three of them ending their friendship with me because they felt betrayed. I haven’t yet decided how to feel about that. Doesn’t matter at the moment, there are more important matters at hand, aka surviving the next three hours.

My college is within ten minutes walking distance from our apartment. That ten minute walk has never been so stressful, not even during exam season. The air feels a little harder to breathe, the path a little shorter to walk. And my moment of reckoning a little too close.

I feel eyes on me the second I start walking through the park of our campus. Sure, I could just be paranoid, but the feeling is too real to be just my imagination in overdrive. I’m glad I have my hair down and a mask on so the redness of my cheeks and neck isn’t on display. That’s a sign of weakness right now.

We have two an hour and a half long classes between which we have a snack break that’s half an hour. I usually enjoy that period but I’m dreading it now. These assholes can only be so mean in the presence of a professor, but during lunch break they can increase that tenfold. 

“Well if it isn’t Corpse’s girl.“ I hear that a lot. The whispers are not so much whispers as intentionally loud enough for me to hear remarks. I’m not bothered by them, it’s the least they can do. If I let such a simple thing get to me, I’d be crumbling by the end of first period.

I hear some shuffling behind me and out of the corner of my eye I see, yeah you guessed it, THAT bitch. She’s standing as close to me as she can without violating Covid regulations. A mask is covering her face but the menacing look in her eyes tells me all I need to know about the interaction that’s about to go down.

“I’d ask how much he pays you for the hour.....“ her long nails tap the wooden desk, “but that’d be rude. I bet it’s tough being a maid. Do you just clean or are you a multipurpose lap dog? No offense, I’m genuinely curious.“

“Vy, would you be so kind as to give Y/N some room to breathe?“ The professor asks as he nonchalantly walks in.

Vy rolls her eyes, batting her eyelashes at me, “Talk to you later, sweetheart.” With a fake friendly wave she’s out of my hair, at least for now.

Remember what I said about these people not being as dumb as I pegged them to be? Yeah, scratch that. These fuckers actually tried getting away with taking pictures of me with flash in broad daylight. Like, HELLO! I have two functioning eyes and a brain, I’m onto you. Sadly, me having figured out their childish but hurtful methods of humiliating me doesn’t change much. They still posted the pics they took, using the most derogatory terms they could find in the English language, always making sure to tag Corpse and me both.

Needless to say, these were the longest three hours of my life.

                                                              *  *  *

Shutting the door to our apartment behind me causes relief of the highest levels. I feel like I’ve locked out all the bad shit I have had to deal with these past twenty four hours. 

I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I feel like a discarded piece of paper. 

And it all starts crumbling. A wall is bound to start slowly falling apart after being hit over and over again, each time feeling the blows with a stronger intensity. 

I slide down the door sitting down on the floor and slowly taking my shoes off. I put my bag beside me and wrap my arms around my knees, hiding my head in the space between them and my chest.

One tear slides down my cheek.

Another follows.

And another, this time accompanied by a choked sob.

A pair of arms wraps around the ball that my body has been shaped into. One of his hands comes up to stroke my hair gently, feeding me the comfort I have been longing for since I left the apartment this morning.

“I saw it. All of it. All the shit they talk about you. All the names they call you. And I’ve never wanted to beat so many people up simultaneously.“ His words make me raise my head from its low position, giving him a knowing look. “I wish I could. I would, but that would land me in jail. Which doesn’t even sound so bad cause I don’t like going out. Only problem is you wouldn’t be with me. I wouldn’t want you to be there with me, don’t get me wrong, I’d never want you to end up in jail. I-...” I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. A quick kiss that says so much but mainly shows the immeasurable gratitude for his support.

Seeing those awful tweets and comments had the complete opposite effect on him. He no longer blames himself but the people who actually deserve the blame - all those jerks from my college.

I pull away, giving him a small smile. “I would never let you go to jail.” 

He smiles back at me, overjoyed that my mood is slowly being lifted, “Come on, I have a nice crowd that would like to meet you.”

I know exactly what he means. Felix, Sean, Rae, Dave, Sykkuno and the rest of his friends. The people I’ve been so shy and afraid to meet since day one. Being shy doesn’t really make sense now, seeing as how they know I exist and that I’m a part of Corpse’s life. 

What do I have to lose?

“Guys, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.“ Corpse’s black avatar runs around my cyan one in the Among Us lobby.

I can’t help but giggle when I unmute my mic, “Hi everyone! It’s so nice to finally meet you.“ They each introduce themselves, expressing how happy they are to be meeting me too.

It’s the first time in what feels like a while that I’m truly having fun. These people are wonderful, each so unique and lovely. They never brought up the scandal nor acted as though they knew about it. I know they did and I am beyond grateful that they never mentioned it or treated me any differently because of it. Also, Corpse was streaming the whole time. I had my phone on his stream, my eyes nervously scanning the chat every now and then. I couldn’t believe it. Corpse’s real fans were just as wonderful as his friends - they were nothing but supportive and happy to have met me.

Now, I can either choose to believe these people were being so nice to me out of sympathy or I can believe they really like me and appreciate me for who I am and not for what happened to me. 

I choose to believe the latter.

And while I’m still getting accustomed to this whole new spotlight, I know I’ll be able to handle it as long as I’m holding Corpse’s hand in the process. All I need is to have him beside me and I’m prepared to tackle anything.

“They love you.“ Corpse tells me once the stream is done and we’ve hopped out of the Discord call, “But I love you more.“

His arms wrap around my waist while mine instinctively find their way around his neck, “I love them, too. But they’re at the number 2 spot.”

He smirks at me, “I wonder who’s at number 1.”

I push up on my toes, putting my lips an inch away from his, “Hmm, I wonder...”

He doesn’t let me finish, silencing my teasing with a sweet, loving kiss.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat

[babybluebex]

next week [baron zemo x reader]

summary ↠ you're hired to give a message to a german prisoner, but you never expected to actually take a liking to him. pairing ↠ baron helmut zemo x fem!reader (y/n) word count ↠ 2.9k warnings ↠ explicit language, a bit of nonsexual choking, zemo calls you a bitch a/n ↠ after a week, here she is!! also, if there's demand for it... part 2? until then, enjoy! masterlist/taglist in bio!

The prison felt cold and unforgiving, and you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself. You followed the guard down the halls, twists and turns with no hope of remembering the correct way out.You figured that they had designed it that way on purpose; nobody could leave and escape if the way out was a labyrinth. Finally, you were led to a man sitting at a desk. His eyes followed you as you approached, and it was only once you were fully in front of him did he speak. “Name?” he asked in German, and you cleared your throat. Your German was shaky, but would have to do.

“Zemo,” you replied. “I’m here for visitation with my husband.”

The man laughed a bit. “Pretty girl visiting her man in prison,” he mumbled. “Such a waste. Take off your jacket, Frau Zemo.”

You had no reason to be nervous, but you still shook a bit when you slid your jacket off and held your arms out for the necessary pat-down. But, as you pondered it, you actually had quite a lot to be scared of. The past three days had been hell, for sure. It started with a firm knock on your apartment door in your home of New York City, and you had opened it to see a man with a metal arm and surprisingly kind eyes. He had introduced himself as simply James, and he had told you that he needed you to do something for him.

“I know you’re Sokovian,” James had explained. “I found your name on a registry of citizens that were moved to the US following the Sokovia incident a few years back. If you do this for me, I’ll help you get access to the city ruins. You were young when you lost your parents, yeah? I know the feeling. Not having closure is… Awful. Wouldn’t wish it on anyone. But, in order to do that, I need you to do something for me?”

You had looked James up and down. “What is the something?” you asked.

“I have a friend,” he began and gave a little wince. “Acquaintance. Umm, I know someone who’s in a German prison right now, and he’s going to be a big help to me and my business partner. All you need to do is go in and give him a message.”

“What sort of message?”

“‘Winter’s coming soon. Next week, I imagine.’ Has to be that, verbatim; don’t say anything about who sent you or why. I’ve already got the meeting and everything set up, you just need to go visit him and give him that message.”

“What does that mean?” you asked.

James had hesitated for a moment, tapping his metal fingers against the arm of his chair. “It’s better if you didn’t know,” he said. “I need as little people involved here as possible. I would go in and give him the message myself, but I’m kind-of a wanted man myself. Will you help us?”

James had been thorough in setting up the meeting, even going as far as purchasing a gently-used set of rings for you to wear. He told you that this man, Helmut Zemo, had been in prison for seven years for a variety of things, the heftiest being murder. “He was justified, though,” James said, and you pretended not to notice his small “I guess.”

The guard said something into his radio unit, and you caught enough of it to know that he was approving you to enter. You knew nothing about this Helmut Zemo other than what James had told you, only the bare basics. Sokovian, had a family that was killed at the same time as yours. According to James, Zemo wasn’t dangerous. He would be more confused than anything, he told you. But, no matter what Zemo did, if he denied he had in you no right, you had to keep with it and deliver the message in a natural way. You were his wife, and you were happy to see him.

The light flicked on over the bed, and Zemo gave a quiet grunt of disdain. It was four in the afternoon, and he always asked for the light to be off. Four was when other prisoners were granted visitation, but he had nobody. Stupid light must have accidentally been triggered.

“Zemo!” he heard a guard call from down the hall, and he pulled himself from bed and approached the plexiglass divider that separated him from freedom. “I thought you said you don’t have a wife!”

“I don’t!” Zemo called back, an irritated edge in his voice.

He finally saw the guard turn the corner and approach, and his eyes instantly fixed on the girl that was trailing behind him. She was young, much, much younger than him, and strikingly beautiful. Maybe it was the seven years in jail, but he could have sworn that he was looking at an angel. She seemed nervous, and Helmut focused his gaze on the rings on her left hand. Before he could speak up and correct the guard that this woman wasn’t his wife, she spoke up. “My God,” she whispered in a soft English, her voice heavy with a familiar Sokovian accent. “Helmut, you look… Tired, my love.”

Zemo tried to gauge the woman. She seemed too green to be an assassin, so at least that was something. And she knew his name. How did she know his name? “I am tired, mein lieber,” he sighed, and he pressed his palms up against the glass. She stepped closer and did the same, laying her hands just opposite his, and he examined her rings. Small, simple, unassuming. Props. “You’re so beautiful.”

You gave a small laugh, one that you hoped sounded like a woman whose husband had complimented her. Did he really mean it? Or had he caught onto the act as well? He seemed smart, you had to admit. And he was handsome too. Though his eyes were dull and dark with exhaustion, they were still a lovely brown. His hair was messy but showed hints of ginger in the dark locks, and his scruffy facial hair accented his soft jaw. However exhausted he was, he was still quite the looker. And he was the first full-blooded Sokovian that you had willingly met since the incident. “Can I hold him?” you asked the guard, lowering your voice and tightening your throat to try to feign emotion. “Please?”

The guard blinked slowly, and he nodded. He translated the request through his radio, and, just a moment later, there was the loud buzz as the cell door was unlocked, and it slowly creaked open. You wasted no time in meeting Zemo at the door and throwing your arms around him, and he held you with the strength of a thousand men as you dug your face into his neck. He shushed you gently, stroking your back, and he pressed his mouth to your temple in a fake kiss. “Why’re you here?” he mumbled through gritted teeth, praying the guard hadn’t noticed it. “Who are you?”

“I missed you,” you whimpered into his neck. “I’m sorry, Helmut, but I moved to the States, and I couldn’t exactly tell people who I was or who you were or why I was living in New York alone but married--”

Zemo moved his lips from your temple to your mouth, and he captured you in a slow and deliberate kiss. Whatever game you were playing, he would join. What’s a bit of fun? Anyway, seven years was a long time to not even touch a woman. If he wanted to kiss you, you would let him. According to the stories James had told you about his family, you figured that he deserved it.

You finally pulled out of the kiss and embraced the man once more, and you mumbled, “It’s so cold in here, Helmut. How do you manage?”

“I make do, mein lieber,” Zemo said. “At least you’re here to keep me warm now.”

“Not for very long,” you said softly. Then, you looked over your shoulder at the guard, and you asked, “Ten minutes, yes?”

The guard nodded silently, and you turned back to Zemo. “Well,” you started, breaking away from him and passing your hand over your cheek to wipe up (nonexistent) tears. “Show me your room.”

Zemo gave a small smile and took your hand, the one with the rings, and you pulled you into the cell. You weren’t lying; it was awfully cold. The room was devoid of much of anything, just the bed and a small sink and toilet in the corner. Books were stacked up beside the bed, all dog-eared and torn at the corners, and a small woven mat was in front of the bed.

“You’ve taken good care of them,” Zemo said suddenly, and you looked away from the stack of books to see him holding your hand up to see the rings. “I figured you wouldn’t even wear them after…”

“What makes you think that?” you asked gently. “I married you, I’d never pretend I didn’t.”

“I love you,” Zemo said quickly, nearly interrupting your sentence. “I missed you.”

You nodded silently, and Zemo tugged you into him once more. His arms were tight around your waist, his hand stroking up and down your back, and he laid a small kiss on your neck. Zemo kept his mouth at your pulse point for long enough to gauge just how fast your heart was beating, and he nodded to himself. A spy of some sort. But what did you want?

You looked at the glass wall of the cell, and you saw that the guard had stepped away, and suddenly every piece of James’ plan fell into place in your mind. Like James said, he couldn’t give Zemo the message himself, and it would be weird for someone like James’ partner to come visit Zemo in prison, especially after seven years of absolutely nobody, so someone else would have to do. You, a young Sokovian girl, Zemo’s wife, made sense. But after seven years, what wouldn’t make sense was if the married couple’s first meeting was just a conversation through a wall. No, the only way it made sense was if it was a conjugal visit.

Fuck.

Apparently, Zemo had caught onto this quicker than you had. His mouth on your neck pulled away in exchange for your lips, his hands captured your waist, and he tugged you fully into him so that your bodies were flushed together. Your anxiety made a quick squeak fall from your mouth, and you covered it with a giggle; you were sure that, even though the guard was gone, you were still being watched. “Seven years hasn’t dulled your charms, so it seems,” you said, and Zemo laughed.

“Of course not,” he chuckled. His hands slid up your body, carefully delving under your shirt, and he added, “I haven’t seen you in so long, it’s almost like I’m starting from the beginning.” He pulled out of the kiss, and you saw his eyes canvasing you, and he said, “My name’s Helmut. And yours, beautiful lady?”

“Goodness,” you huffed. “You’ve already married me, silly.”

“Indulge me, mein lieber,” Zemo said. Even though it was an act for the security cameras, he truly wanted to know your name. Maybe, with that, he could piece together why you were there. “Won’t you play my little game?”

You rolled your eyes, but played along. You told him your name, and he gave you a tight smile. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he said gently, and you could see that he really meant it. Married or not, you could tell that Zemo-- Helmut-- was grateful for your presence. “Can I offer you a dance, mein lieber?”

You pressed your arms around his neck and laid your head on his chest, and he squeezed you in a tight hug. Softly, he began to hum something in your ear, only for the two of you to hear, and he sighed as the two of you began to sway to his humming.

“Who are you?” he whispered, planting a kiss on the side of your face. “Who sent you?”

You swallowed thickly. You remembered that James had instructed you not to speak of him, and you mumbled, “I can’t imagine how it must feel to be here.”

“What are you talking about?” Zemo snarled, and he pushed his leg in-between yours as an “explanation” for the sudden change in temper. “I asked who you are.”

“Helmut, you have to trust me,” you whispered quickly.

“Trust?” he huffed. “You come in here, lying about yourself, and ask me to trust you? You, the bitch who claims to be my wife? That’s a big ask, sweetheart.”

“I--” you began. You really didn’t want to anger James by breaking from the meticulous plan he had made up, but you were more afraid of the man between your legs at the moment. He was a more urgent threat. You took fistfuls of Zemo’s off-ginger hair and pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his, and you whispered, “A man came to my apartment two days ago. He said he needed my help, and he told me to come here and deliver a message.”

To the outside onlooker, when Zemo put his hand on your throat, it might have looked innocent. Not truly innocent, but certainly harmless. But it scared you shitless. His fingers were strong, and his thumb dug straight into your windpipe. It hurt, and your throat immediately began to burn with the urge for breath. “I’ll ask again,” he said easily. His eyes were a new sort of dark, not by exhaustion or confusion or arousal, but by rage. “Who sent you here?”

“I don’t know who he is,” you said quickly. “I only know his first name.”

“Which is?”

“James,” you choked out. “Light eyes, dark hair, prosthetic arm.”

Zemo’s grip loosened for only a moment, but then his thumb went back to its place. “He sent you to give me a message, didn’t he?” he asked. “About the winter. What did he say?”

You felt lightheaded, but you tried to stand your ground. “It comes in a week,” you said quickly. “Please let go of me.”

“Why you?” Zemo asked. “Of everyone in the world, why you?”

“My mother was killed in Sokovia,” you said, and fought back the urge to gag. “I only found out because I heard her name on the radio. Her apartment is still there, and James promised me that he could bypass the military blockade and get me there to say goodbye.”

Zemo’s hand fell slack around your throat, then off altogether. He took a small step back, and his eyes fell to the floor as his brain whirred to life. “He lied to you,” Zemo said carefully. “There’s nothing left. Not when I last went, and certainly not now.”

Your heart sank, and you pressed your hand to your neck, right where he had been. “You’re lying,” you said. “Th-There has to be something there.”

“That military blockade is there to keep people from settling on the land,” Zemo said. “Most of it was taken by surrounding countries, but the worst of it was… Is, just barren land. There’s nothing left for you to mourn.”

“How do you know?” you sniffled. “You’ve been in prison for nearly a decade.”

“Because I was there,” Zemo said. “My wife, son, and father were killed there. You wasted your time coming here; James can’t do anything for you.”

You hesitated for a second, then said, “But you can, right?”

Zemo froze. It was momentary, and you wouldn’t have noticed it if you yourself hadn’t said the words that triggered it, but he let out a heavy breath and resumed with the close-quarters dancing, his grip suddenly gentle again. “What makes you think that, mein lieber?”

“I’m not stupid,” you chuckled lightly. “I was young when I lived in Sokovia, but I recognized you when I saw you. Baron Helmut Zemo, locked up in a German prison; how aristocratic is that?”

“I have no power anymore,” Zemo mumbled. Sometimes, he nearly forgot his lineage, especially since the country he served didn’t exist anymore past his memories. “I cannot do anything.”

“Right,” you whispered slowly. “I figured as much... Who is James?”

“A man that I used to know,” Zemo said. “A man that I’ve never been friendly with, which is why I’m surprised that he would seek me out. He didn’t say why he was coming, did he?”

You shook your head, and Zemo laughed humourlessly. “Of course he didn’t,” he mused. “Shouldn’t have expected that… Next week? Guess I have to keep you here, make sure I stay plenty warm, huh?”

“I wish,” you chuckled. “You are rather cute, Helmut.”

Helmut Zemo laughed, the tops of his cheeks going pink. “And you tease me about my charms,” he said, his voice finally above a whisper; suddenly, the act of estranged husband and wife was back. You could easily pass off the bought of anger and crying as Helmut being too passionate, as Sokovians tended to be. “If you don’t watch yourself, Y/N, I might have to marry you all over again.”

[vampireknitting]

So about 2 1/2 weeks ago I met one of the other tenants at my apartment building. I sat with them at my friends place. First introduction they were just really odd at first, then he made some really red flag comments. First one was cutting her off and saying no one cares about that, even though I had asked her a question, second was how much he insisted that the exheroin addict was absolutely crazy and we should stay away. Ive kinda talked about them once or twice now. But things have progressed and I wish people would go back to ignoring me.

A day or 2 after meeting this man he stood out on his patio demanding I come collect this bitch, yelling my name out to the whole complex, and screaming some more about how he’s gonna call the cops on her if we don’t do something. My friend was walking me back to my place at the time. Mind you they have a 5 year old girl.

My darling anonymously complained about him to the complex only to be told unless we put our names on a police record they can’t do anything. This “man” assumed my friend complained, made his girl bring him over so he could intimidate my friend. Now she was homeless for 5 years and is more capable than she should be at talking them down. He broke a bunch of her little things throwing a screaming fit. As he’s on thin ice with the building apparently. She kicked him out, but got him out by commenting on how this is how you get shot.

The couple had a massive fight. Apparently she may or may not have tried to either stab him or herself. At first it was she went after him, got arrested and placed under restrictions where she is not to be here anymore or go to jail. Now it’s I tried to kill myself and there’s no restrictions that was a lie. Left my friend and I alone for like 2ish weeks.

But yesterday she brought this poor baby girl over. This random 5 year old that I’ve seen now twice looked relieved to see my friend and I. Immediately I was deeply concerned, she doesn’t know me but her mom is talking me up like we are besties or some shit. When mom finally walked over to me all I could smell was alcohol. She took this fucking child to a park and drank. To come to my friend’s place because she had fought with him and didn’t want to go back yet.

We got some lore from her in her drunken state. This boyfriend doesn’t physically torture her like the ex did and is baby daddy so it has to work out. But he’s a paranoid crackhead who likes crack more than being a dad, but won’t smoke often so he’s a better parent than she is. He won’t hit women, but likes to scare the shit out of you so you complain to a man that will stand up for you so he can go crazy. He kept targeting me because I have a man who will stand up for me.

40 minutes after I left my friends place my front door buzzer went off. The woman was at my door begging for a small favour. I probably should have told her off. Shouldn’t have let her in or bothered period. Just a little weed she said. That’s all she needs. But I wanted to be sure I wasn’t cutting off someone who is trying. Who has a child who very clearly shouldn’t be there and could still leave and live.

She took out a 7.1% tall beer can outta her purse and wanted to talk art with me. She’s a reader who draws and paints, something we have in common. She fell in love with one of my works and begged to buy it. I knew deep down I probably wouldn’t see money for it but if I could use it to get her to leave I was more than happy to lose an old piece. He called and she immediately shrank so small. Said she’d be right back and tried to keep talking with me. Using the path of least resistance when she said I won’t leave until you text me, I did, and then blocked the number. I managed to get her to the open door and was just about to get her out the door when she says; I’m sorry I’m so messy and that he scared you. He’s not like that when he’s sober. He’s a good dad when sober. And fucking pissed herself.

She didn’t notice. I didn’t notice until I heard the main door close because I stood there listening and waited for the sounds of her leaving. To step back and realize my feet feel damp. I genuinely wanted to believe that she had a third tall can open in her bag and it dumped. She had dribbled some of the other one so it didn’t seem unreasonable that there was another. Plus she was mumbling about how she was spilling. I started to clean up until I picked the towel up and the fucking smell hit me. So there went my towel, rug and rags I use to clean my floor.

My friend and I have been discussing how to cut her off without any weird bullshit. Before this took place. After everything that’s happened and everything that we’ve learned. Her mom had even told us to give up on her daughter and just let her deal with it. So we were doing so. But my friend didn’t want to slam the door just in case she actually escapes. But after this I’m inclined to believe that will never happen. But after all that’s taken place I feel like 2 1/2 weeks isn’t enough time to place myself anywhere near this.

My darling has asked me to never speak to her again, which I told him absolutely. But as a disabled homemaker I worry this fucking loser of a man views me as an easy target. Especially since they’ve been watching me since they’ve moved in but only just now talked to me. So my friend also insisted that I block the number and let her do the confrontational stuff.

I never thought I’d clean some woman’s piss off of my floor. But now I have to buy a new rug. A small part of me thinks I should call CPS but if I do her crackhead bf would probably attack if he’s not outright arrested. It’s shit like this that makes me hate Canada’s gun laws.

[elysiadjarin]

Day 3: Dacryphilia

Jesse Cromeans may be a ruthless killer, but at home with you? You’re the one in charge. And especially those days when you’re annoyed at how long he’s been gone and he comes back so desperate for your attention… well. You did so like to see him cry.

Day 3 of Kinktober has arrived! I actually think I discovered some things about myself writing this one, so y’all enjoy. 😂 Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ content only. This one is a slasher x reader fic, so please beware of mentions of murder and assault as part of the territory, though nothing is explicitly mentioned. PinV unprotected sex, dacryphilia, desperation, cumplay.

Tags: Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull) x reader, slasher x reader, yandere!reader, soft femdom, sub/dom themes

Paint Splatters over Canvas

It was rather funny, really.

You scrolled through your phone, ignoring the giant man standing in the doorway of the room staring at you. Jesse had always made a point of never touching you without your permission. A way for him to separate the meaningless victims of his murderous hobby with you, his wife, his everything. And while of course your relationship stayed perfectly strong, you well aware of his hobby and he well aware of your own tendencies… it did sometimes backfire on him in the best worst ways.

Like now. When you were annoyed with him because he’d been gone an entire day later than he’d promised, extra dark web cash be damned. A promise was a promise, and it wasn’t as though he’d needed the money. He did have a perfectly legal and highly successful business, after all. So shouldn’t you have come first?

You liked revenge cold, playing the long game; something you had in common with Jesse. And today, you certainly had plans put in place for said revenge. Which, for the time being, meant ignoring Jesse. You had plenty to occupy you, from communications for the business to just working on your own projects. Still, you’d made sure to be just nonchalant enough to let him know that it was all so… deliberate.

Jesse shuffled in the doorway, clearly wanting your attention but knowing better than to think any sort of demanding would get him anywhere. He’d learned the hard way that at home, his power over subordinates decidedly did not apply to you. When you didn’t give him any response, he hovered for a moment, clearly trying to decide on what to do next.

You knew how he would get after a mission. Needy. Wanting. Starved for attention and affection from you. Pent up for days, probably thinking about you every spare moment between takes.

With a hum, you typed out a message on your phone before standing and heading for the doorway. You briefly looked up to see him as you brushed past in the doorway. “Oh, hi, Jesse,” you said, giving him a brief, distracted smile. “I’m off to get ready for a meeting with a client.” You headed for the bedroom, already thinking about your next steps.

You could hear him following behind you, could almost feel the mounting despair as he started to realized what was happening. Why you had used his name instead of the usual love, darling. His shoulders hunched, and you could see his face twist as he clearly tried to think of what to do. He already knew that you’d have your revenge however you wanted: apologies would be expected but certainly wouldn’t get him any closer to mercy.

Walking into the bedroom, you headed straight for the bathroom to start preparing. Jesse still trailed along behind you like a forlorn, helpless puppy, and you swore you could almost hear him let out a small whine. Pausing for a moment in front of your vanity, you dialed your friend’s number and set it to speaker, putting it down on the countertop and sitting in front of the mirror.

You tied your hair up and reached for your cosmetics, beginning the process as the phone dialed. Your friend picked up quickly, already in on your plan thanks to your texting. She always approved of your payback plans.

Bestie! I thought you said you had to prepare for the meeting? I mean, yknow, not that I don’t like hearing from you. She cheerfully teased over the phone.

You smiled. “Well yeah, I just sat down to do my makeup. But I mean, we did say we were going to talk about the party for little Jacen this weekend, and what better time than now? You can help me pick out an outfit once I’m done,” you cajoled, noticing how Jesse sat on the edge of the jacuzzi bathtub, unabashedly staring at you. He always had loved watching you get ready for an event. Not that you minded.

Fair enough. Your best friend admitted readily. But seriously, you didn’t have to go all out for Jacen like this. She half scolded. It’s so much!

You laughed lightly, the creamy foundation smoothing across your skin. “Oh c’mon, he’s my adorable little nephew in all but name. He deserves to get spoiled by his doting Aunt, let me have my fun,” you wheedled, knowing she would cave.

She sighed over the receiver. I swear, girl, you could convince anyone into anything.

“Or maybe I’m just your weakness, Miss Mara,” you teased back. The soft brush in your fingers blended the contour onto your face, and you smiled as you glanced at the phone. “But anyway, did you manage to figure out what he might want for a birthday present? Or are we going with my original idea to let him loose in a mall?”

Oh, no, you are so not buying him everything he points at. I’d never get him to not be a spoiled brat if I let you.Mara snorted. I’ll text you what I figured out, he seems to be pretty fixated on it right now.

“Ugh, fineeee,” you sighed, rolling your eyes. “But I’m going to at least get him that adorable motorized scooter I showed you before. He’s going to look so cute riding around in it.”

Fair enough I suppose. Better than the mall idea— wait, did you just get me to agree to something extravagant by threatening something so ridiculous—

“Anyway,” you interrupted blithely, “did you send out invitations to everyone?”

Yep, and I got back all the RSVPs. Speaking of which, I thought you said that you were meeting with the CEO of some business tonight? What’s that all about? I know you, you normally don’t like dealing with people.

You sighed. “Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag a little.” You pouted, reaching for the eyeshadow and liner. “Jesse was supposed to be back yesterday, but since he wasn’t I had to reschedule, and I promised to personally meet with the CEO in order to smooth over ruffled feathers. But besides that… I wanted to be there personally to see my best friend and her husband’s house finally paid off for their fifth anniversary.”

A pause. Then a screech that made you grin. You’re not serious! Babes, no, wait—

“No use protesting!” You said cheerfully, waving your brush. “It’s already been practically settled. Besides, you both need to start saving up for Jacen’s college funds. We did have the agreement that I’d open the doors to whatever college he wanted instead of just paying for it,” you reminded.

Ugh, I don’t know if I want to smack you or hug you, you sly little— Mara groaned. Wait till I tell Damien, he won’t know what hit him. She laughed. Thank you. You know how much it means to us. I won’t scold.

“Good.” You nodded. “And you know I’ll take care of you.”

She sighed. Never doubted it. So, how’s the process?

You hummed, pursing your lips as you finished the eyeshadow and grabbed the mascara. “About to do mascara, then all I have left is the lipstick. But shouldn’t I wait till we pick a dress before I actually pick a color?”

Probably. What’s the mood? You going for boss ass bitch, sultry Queen, or mysterious vampire lady? Amusement laced Mara’s voice.

“You’re not even in my house and yet you walked in and called me out to my face,” you said dryly, earning laughter. Jesse, you saw in the mirror, tilted his head with a small smile playing over his lips. He’d quietly observed the whole processes, eyes fixed on your face.

Only cause I love you. So, show me the closet, girl! Oh, show me your makeup first tho so we got reference.

You picked up the phone as you finished, turning on the camera so she could see your makeup sans the lipstick. She whistled, eyebrows wriggling teasingly as she grinned.

Oh, so mysterious vampire queen it is. She smirked. Closet. Though I do have the feeling that we’re going to be choosing a gorgeous red lipstick.

“Yes ma’am,” you answered, standing and heading for your closet. You heard Jesse stand and follow behind you, and stifled a smile. Flipping the camera, you started to flip through the racks of dresses. “Does that mean we’re leaning towards a black dress?”

Hmm, probably. Actually, how about one of your sleek black ones? The one with like, barely any frills and only a tiny bit of lace at the top. Off the shoulder. If you’re gonna try to assert dominance, probably drawing attention to your mouth and hands is the best way to go.

You tilted your head at the hangers, then nodded. “You’re right. Especially if I go for the red lipstick. I could also honestly use a glass of wine during that meeting,” you sighed.

Mara snickered. Blood in a wine glass? How stereotypical of you, madame.

“You hush, drama queen,” you said dryly, finding the dress she’d described and pulling it out.

Ooh, that’s the one! And I know you have that one crimson shade of lipstick that I always say looks vampiric.

You went back to the vanity and set the phone down, pretending to not notice that it showed Jesse standing in the doorway, clearly staring at you. You slid your shirt off, careful not to smudge any makeup, then slipped out of your pants and reached for the dress. Smoothing it over your front to get rid of any wrinkles, you sat back down and tilted the camera back to yourself, reaching for the lipstick.

“This one, right?” You waved it in front of your face.

Yep! That dress is stunning, by the way. Oh, and what are you doing with your hair?

“Ugh, I don’t really wanna bother too much with it, so I figured I’d go with the… messy, loose waves.” You shrugged, applying the lipstick.

Mara snorted. I think you mean, ‘sorry I’m late I was doing things’ while ignoring Jesse staggering behind you clearly radiating ‘I’m things’ energy.

You half-choked, laughing despite yourself. “Mara-! Seriously!”

She rolled her eyes at you. I’m just saying it like it is. But you go girlie, you look bomb. She laughed. Blow them all away. Be the boss bitch you are. A noise in the background interrupted her. Oop, that’s my cue. I gotta go, text me though okay?

“Will do, tell Damien and Jacen hi for me.” You smiled and hung up, finishing fluffing your hair. Standing, you grabbed the phone and headed for the door. “The meeting is in five minutes,” you remarked to Jesse as you passed him in the doorway. “If you want to join.”

You saw him type on his phone, the text to speech translator sounding a moment later. May I be there with you?

You flashed him a warm smile, as though you weren’t at all deliberately enacting revenge. “Of course! I’d love to have you there. Let’s go.” With a little hum, you headed towards the stairs.

Your phone pinged with a message. Girl, I swear he was drooling. You’re so mean sometimes. Not that he didn’t deserve it.

You suppressed a laugh, replying with one hand as your other slid down the bannister to guide you down the staircase. You know it. Mission so far successful. Wish me luck, I’m about to go into this meeting.

You looked up as you got to the bottom of the stairs, seeing an assistant waiting with the guest. The assistant bowed politely. “May I introduce Mr. Trace, CEO of Finley Bank.”

Giving the assistant a nod, you turned to Mr. Trace. “Greetings, Mr. Trace. Welcome! Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I do apologize for the delay,” you said, taking charge and sweeping towards the parlor.

He followed after automatically. “Of course, Mrs. Cromeans,” he answered, quickly recovering from his moment of bewilderment.

You motioned to a chair, sitting on the velvet couch across the coffee table. “Please, please, have a seat,” you said, keeping the easy smile on your face. “Can I get you a drink? Anything at all?”

He blinked, sitting down and setting his briefcase next to him. “Ah— thank you. I’d appreciate a scotch on the rocks if it’s available.”

“Of course,” you said easily, nodding to the maid standing nearby. “A red wine for me, please.” You smiled at Jesse as he sat next to you. “Your regular?” you asked sweetly. At his nod, you turned back to the maid. “And a glass of dry white.”

She bowed and went to go fetch the drinks.

“I’m sure you have plenty of other things to do, Mr. Trace,” you said smoothly, “so I’ll not take any more of your time than necessary. Of course, as I said, I’d like to discuss several things with you…”

Twenty minutes later found you leaning against the arm of the couch, feet propped up beside you as you swirled the last dregs of the red wine, tapping the glass with your fingernails. The CEO had long since emptied his scotch, and Jesse was on his second glass. His fingers kept clenching around the flute of his glass every time your feet brushed against his thigh.

“Of course,” Trace said with a nod, jotting down the final notes on the paperwork. “Easily managed. Are there any other details you would like to add or anything else to discuss?” He looked up at you.

Your tactics of firm politeness and the scotch seemed to have worked their charm, and you’d been able to rather easily dominate the flow of the interaction. Not to mention, Mara had been right about appearances clearly setting a tone. Trace seemed to be studiously avoiding eye contact with either you or Jesse.

“Not at all, Mr. Trace,” you said, a pleased note in your voice. “I’m rather pleased at how everything has turned out. We do so value your business, you know.” You tilted the glass in your fingers. “Shall I sign the papers?”

“At your leisure.” He slid them across the table toward you.

You slowly uncurled yourself like a lazy feline, straightening yourself and leaning over to set the glass down on the table. Grasping the pen, you slowly signed your name on the papers, eyes glancing over the print to ascertain that everything was in order. Shuffling through the papers, you finally set the pen down.

Trace took them back, glancing through them before nodding. “Everything seems to be in order.” He slid them back into his briefcase. “Thank you as always for your business, Mrs. Cromeans, Mr. Cromeans.”

You nodded, and Jesse stood, setting his glass down. You rose as well, sliding your arm into the crook of his elbow as he automatically adjusted for you. “And thank you for your help, Mr. Trace,” you answered easily. “I do hope you have a productive rest of the day. Do be safe out there.”

He nodded as the assistant returned to escort him out. “Same to you.”

With a hum, you absently patted Jesse’s arm and let yours slide out of his grasp, drifting towards the stairs again. “Oh, I need to go tell Mara it’s all confirmed. Besides, this dress is only comfortable for so long,” you remarked, pulling out your phone again.

Guess who completely owns their house now? You texted Mara, smiling. And your tactics worked, I think dominance was asserted.

You waltzed into the bedroom, headed straight for the closet. “Jesse, are you hungry? I think the food I ordered should have arrived by now, it should be in front of the TV. Maybe pick a movie? I still have a few messages to send.”

You changed into a comfortable black babydoll nightdress, sighing in relief as the silk slid over your skin. It was far more comfortable, and you could feel yourself finally starting to relax after the pent-up tension of the meeting. You really did hate dealing with people, especially ones like the CEO.

Your phone buzzed as you went to go pick it back up. You are literally the best. Now go finish seducing Jesse while I go figure out how to make this news sexy.

Stifling a snort, you went to go wipe your makeup off and wash your face. You could hear the sounds of the TV starting in the bedroom, so you took one more glance in the mirror before heading out into the room, still tapping at your phone. You still had to finish some arrangements for Jacen’s birthday, after all, and your revenge was still percolating.

Jesse’s head turned as soon as you approached the couch in front of the TV. You ignored the way he froze, sliding onto the couch and tucking your feet under a soft blanket. Sending off another message, you set it beside you and reached forward to grab a tray, pulling it into your lap.

“I figured you might not want anything too heavy since you just got back, so I kinda just made a guess and ended up ordering too much…” You frowned at the myriad of food laid out over the table. “Sorry, Jesse… I don’t even know if this is what you want—“

The text to speech cut you off. The food is fine, thank you. I’m sorry for being late. I know I can only make excuses, but I am sorry. Can I make it up to you?

A frown touched your lips as you picked up your spoon, still not looking at him. Your fingernails tapped against the screen of your phone. “Jacen asked the other day if Uncle Jesse would be at his party. I told him I didn’t know, but I’d ask.”

He quickly typed. Of course, if he asked for me, I’ll be sure to be there. His fingers paused, then he slowly typed again, as though hesitating. I got you a present while I was gone.

You hummed, swallowing your food and picking your phone back up. “He’ll be happy to hear it. And thank you for the present.” You sent a message to tell Mara that Jacen’s wish had been granted.

Jesse practically fidgeted as he ate, the movie playing in the background. You could feel his eyes slide from the screen to you, could almost hear the wheels in his head frantically turning. The tension in every line of his body was obvious, his movements stilted and jerky. He practically twitched every time you so much as moved.

Finally, you set down the tray, grabbing a mint to refresh your mouth. Shifting to get more comfortable, you angled yourself towards him a little more. You snitched a piece of food from his plate, letting out a hum as you smiled down at Mara’s message. If possible, Jesse stiffened even more, his fingers clenching so hard around his spoon that it even bent a little in his grasp.

A crumb fell from your fingers onto the lace edge of your nightgown, and you let out a quiet noise of protest as you looked down. Your fingers brushed against the top of your breast, brushing off the crumb. Sticking your finger in your mouth, you typed out a message in response to another conversation. With a sigh, you looked up and glanced over Jesse’s shoulder to see the lamp on the table next to him. Night had fallen, and shadows fell over the room.

Stirring yourself, you sat up, setting your phone down for a moment. “Can I turn on the lamp? I don’t wanna get up for the lights,” you said, starting to lean across him. Almost thoughtlessly, you placed your hand on his thigh and put your weight on it, reaching over his body on your hands and knees to pull at the cord on the lamp. The light clicked on, just as a low keening sound came from Jesse.

Your head tilted at the sound, and you turned to look up at his face. It was your turn to freeze.

Jesse’s face had crumpled, his soft green eyes literally awash with tears. His hands were clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with hitching breaths as he struggled to control his expression. The tears welled in his eyes, and faint color had splashed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

Slowly, a smile crossed your lips as you stared up at his face. Leaning back, you tilted your head, licking your lips. “Oh, look at you,” you breathed. “You made all the little piggies cry, Jesse. But maybe it’s your turn, hmm?” Your eyes flickered down to the way his entire body trembled, every muscle taut and strained.

You moved, sliding your entire body into his lap to straddle his waist and face him. Crossing your arms under your chest, you stared into his face. “I don’t know… you broke your promise, though.” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he let out another hoarse whimper. Tears slid down his cheeks, his mouth opening for shuddering breaths.

He shook his head, lips trembling as he lifted one hand and signed. Sorry. Please. Sorry. His fingers spelled out your name.

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hands. You leaned up, face drawing closer to his. “But I already accepted your apology, love,” you cooed, smiling. “You know what I think?” You slowly dragged your tongue across his tear tracks, your body flushing with heat at the taste of the bitter salt. “I think,” you murmured against his jaw, “that I like seeing you cry.”

Jesse’s breath hitched on a sob, more tears spilling down his cheeks. It was fairly intoxicating, seeing the giant man completely fall apart under you, trapped between his desperation and his personal standards. When you slid forward, your body pressing flush against him, another sob wrenched from his gritted teeth.

You decided for the moment to have a bit of mercy. Reaching down, you grasped his wrists and lifted his hands to your waist. His fingers instantly clenched in the silk babydoll dress, shaking as he grabbed at your waist. His entire body lurched forwards towards you, eyes fixed on your face.

You hummed softly, brushing a kiss to his jaw. “Your eyes are so pretty when they’re filled with tears, Jesse,” you purred, drawing his face closer to you. Still, you refused to kiss him, instead trailing your lips down his jaw, down to his throat. You opened your mouth against his neck, savoring the taste of his skin and the soft scent of his cologne.

Jesse’s trembling fingers jerked against your waist, and he slumped into you. His hands slid over your waist to your lower back, his touch practically reverent as he squeezed. His breaths came quick and fast, breaking occasionally on a sob. Every time you suckled or moved your lips, every time your hands slid down his shoulders, he gasped and shuddered, more tears dripping down his cheeks.

You slid your hands down, starting to unbutton his shirt. Your tongue dragged across his neck, and you felt the bulge in his pants throb against your thigh. “Isn’t this punishment fair, darling?” you cooed. “I only ask for a few tears, hmm? A front row seat to your pretty eyes?”

His head jerked, even though it wrenched another tortured sob from him. Despite the contact, you could feel his frustration mounting.

You pulled back, looking up at him as you finished unbuttoning his shirt. “Oh, you don’t think so?” Your fingers slid across his bared chest, feeling the heat radiating from his skin. “But isn’t this what you wanted? Me, paying attention to you?”

His gasps had turned ragged. His hips jerked, rutting up against your thigh. A strangled noise left his throat, his eyes squeezing shut. His grip on your waist threatened to leave fingerprints against your skin.

“No?” You bit your lip, raking your nails lightly against his chest. “Then what is it you want, hmm?”

His eyes flickered down to your lips, unconsciously licking his own. His fingers clenching, he pulled you down to grind against his cock, straining in his trousers. Pants fell from his mouth, and he kept glancing from your eyes to your lips.

You reached down, teasingly trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Unzipping his trousers, you looked up at his face and smiled as you traced one fingertip down the bulge in his underwear. His eyes fairly rolled back in his head, more tears streaming down his face afresh.

“Look at you, already such a mess,” you murmured, sliding your fingers into his underwear. The moment you wrapped a hand around his cock and slid up, you were rewarded with a guttural groan. He gritted his teeth, clearly struggling to stay still. With a soft laugh, you leaned up and brushed a kiss to his ear.

You tugged at his collar. “Why don’t you lie down for me?” you murmured.

He immediately complied, his hands still clamped around your waist as he turned and shifted up, lying down on the couch. He stared up at you, face still twisted in agony and desperation.

Lifting yourself a little, you tilted your head at him. “Take your pants off for me?”

He practically kicked his pants and underwear off in his haste. You guided one of his hands to the latch on the side of your own panties, giving him an amused smile and nod. His trembling fingers unlatched them, his chest heaving as he watched the black silk slide away from your skin. The moment you lowered back down onto him, his cock throbbed against you and his back arched.

Leaning forward, you hummed a pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Jesse, love,” you murmured. “Cry for me a little more?” You cupped his face in your hands, feeling your wetness coat his own length as you ground against his tip. But you deliberately kept shifting, not giving him any steady pressure.

Another broken whine came from him, and a few more tears slipped down his cheeks. Frustration scrunched his face, his neck mottled with red and flushing down to his shoulders and chest, making your white nail marks stand out. His hips jerked, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment.

“Is this what you want?” You pressed down against him again, feeling his cock slip against your wet folds teasingly.

His head jerked in a nod, almost violently. Tremors kept running through his arms, his body occasionally shuddering under you.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip between yours. Your teeth nipped at his lip, and you finally slanted your mouth over his. Tears poured afresh down his cheeks as he desperately pulled at you, trying to get closer, kiss you more. You relented and let him, thumbs brushing against his jaw as you hummed softly into his frantic, pleading kisses. Without warning, you slipped your tongue between his lips, feeling his mouth part with alacrity. When you finally parted, his green eyes were glazed over with tears, hazily staring at you.

Then you smiled at him slyly. “I think you’ve deserved a little bit more,” you decided.

The moment you slid his tip into you, he choked. Saliva dribbled from the corners of his mouth as he squeezed his eyes shut, struggling for breath. His entire body froze, humming taut under you and his eyes sightlessly staring up at the ceiling.

You observed his wrecked expression, licking your lips with satisfaction. Rarely did Jesse ever fully submit to you like this, usually a brat. But tonight, you had absolute and utter control, and you intended to milk every last ounce of satisfaction out of it. The memories would fuel you for years of his utterly ruined expression, tears slipping down his cheeks as he drooled uncontrollably.

“So pretty, darling,” you purred, licking the tears from his cheek. You gave him another kiss, letting his hands wander over your waist and up your front. “So good for me. Do you think you can handle more?”

His eyes widened, breath quickening. He glanced down, then shook his head jerkily. Then nodded. Then shook his head.

You tilted your head. “Hmmm.” A wicked grin crossed your lips. “No? Oh, but I think you can,” your said, just as you lifted yourself and fully sheathed him inside you.

Jesse sobbed. His mouth opened, tongue lolling as he gasped. Tears poured down his cheeks from the mingled pleasurable pain and relief. His cock throbbed inside you, and his hands grasped desperately at your thighs. His entire body started to shake, arching.

You barely gave him time to adjust before you were already bouncing on him, hands braced against the back of the couch. Laughter spilled from your lips, delighted and cruel, as his hands scrabbled against your thighs, raking across your skin. Moans kept being torn from his throat, your name framed on his lips.

As soon as you angled your hips and brought your fingers down to ring tight circles on your clit, you hissed in pleasure. You pulsed around his cock, earning another helpless sob and wave of tears. He just hit that one spot inside you perfectly, again and again, until you bit your lip and moaned his name as you came around him. Your body clenched down on him, even as you kept fucking yourself through your orgasm.

More laughter spilled from your lips. “Are you gonna cum for me, Jesse, my pretty darling?” you asked breathlessly, purposely moaning his name. “Gonna cum inside me?”

The only warning you got from Jesse was another sob and the gritting of his teeth. His hands flew to your hips, slamming you down on him one more time before holding you there with an iron grip. Gasps tore from his mouth, his eyes trying to blink away tears as he stared up at you.

You hummed, caressing his hands and arms as you bit your lip in satisfaction. He kept pouring into you, his hips jerking once in a while and wringing a whimper from him. Finally, you leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. His lips parted under yours weakly, chest heaving under your hands.

“Thank you, Jesse,” you cooed sweetly between kisses. “You’re so good to me, make me feel so good.” Your mind fuzzed with the pleasure of both your high and the sight of his tears.

He pushed up against you, kissing you fervently. Though he didn’t say a word, you could feel his thoughts through his drugged, sloppy kiss.

You giggled, teasingly clenching down on him one more time and earning a jerk and grunt. “And I forgive you. But don’t do it again, okay?”

Jesse’s calculating look as he clearly weighed the consequences made you roll your eyes but laugh. Maybe this one would turn out to backfire against you, next time.

You decided it was worth it.

[4dtk]

a sweet bet (jaehyun)

anon: “Hey can I request innocent school boy Jaehyun with freaky bad girl y/n smut?:)” thx for requesting anon! both jae and y/n are the same age, although are around university ages. you can take it in a way that y/n takes up the dom (altho… she’s not so mean) role in this!

fem pronouns. thank u for the challenge! i don’t write fem doms that often so this was interesting to try out :)

content warnings: a bit of fem dom, sub!jaehyun, vaginal penetration, breeding (I'll never let this damn kink go), implications of pegging/strap-on, praise, like one mention of "brat"

NSFW UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!

“aw, aren’t you such a darling?” you cooed, backing jaehyun up against the door of the classroom as his head covers most of the window on the door. you peak just over his locks to look at the dwindling number of students, most of them heading to class.

“(y/n)-ssi, i-i don’t think we should be doing this-“ jaehyun gasps when you invade his space, nose an inch from the other as his eyes struggle to focus on something.

“so now you’re backing down?” you tilt your head, challenging him. “not when your friends were betting on whether you could even get within a metre of me?”

“y’know… i don’t mind being used for bets or anything, but when someone accepts it like a champ, i expect them to carry it out like one.”

jaehyun sucks in a breath when your arm snakes around his waist, pulling his hips off the comfort of the door. you can tell he’s enjoying it even if his words say otherwise, hips pushing up to get any form of friction for his growing erection.

“proximity wasn’t your bet, right? you just wanted a piece of this pussy, huh?” jaehyun reacts strongly to your use of such a lewd word, swallowing on nothing and making the mistake of dropping his eyes to your lower half.

he timidly nods, breaths coming out short that all he can focus on is your body heat and the words of his friends resonating in his mind. he was happy to take a chance with the popular chick he shared the english literature major with, already envisioning good money that one of his richer friends promised.

why’d they pick you of all people? he wondered why he even said yes when you so clearly had no problem pinning him down. at least the other chick would take her time and beg to be fucked, presenting him with no problem since he’s had a bit of… knowledge from porn.

now, all jaehyun could compare himself to was prey caught in an unfortunate position by its predator. hell, forget about fucking anyone dumb, if anything, he was the one at your mercy.

“you want this, jeong jaehyun?” you ask nonchalantly, eyes already filled with lust at how easily he obeyed to your movements. a widen of his eyes, a bite of his underlip and a curt nod.

you smiled, “good.”

the next minutes were blurry, clouded by hot breaths and wandering hands. your lips moved against jaehyun’s like a sin, tongue slipping into the others’ mouth while he deepens the kiss as much as he can. you can feel his dick on your thighs; he’s rutting against it like a bitch, hesitant hands travelling over your body as it settles over your breasts.

“you’re a good boy, aren’t you? you don’t need to ask for permission.”

with your arms, you’re flipping the two of you over so you’re concealed from the prying eyes of curious students while jaehyun adapts to the new position. he wastes no time to draw your shirt up and bra down, latching his mouth onto your nipples and swirls them around his tongue.

you hum, palming his hardening cock that has his efforts interrupted by the needy moans he lets out. you struggle to hold your own too, his tongue sucking effortlessly while bucking into your hand. it makes you wet, soaking your underwear that you have such a cute boy at your disposal.

you waste no time to push him down to his knees once he’s done, his big doe eyes staring up at you as his hands linger at the waistband of your pants.

“go on,” you mumble breathlessly, sighing in relief when your underwear separates itself from your leaking cunt in a string of arousal, not missing the surprised noise that the other makes. it’s adorable, the way he experimentally places a finger against your slit, rubbing at it like it’s his first time. you shiver when he slips a finger in, holding onto his shoulders while you lean forward at the immense pleasure.

he could call it his first time, although i’ve definitely done it before, god! i’ve practiced making love to my pillow before finding out who was in it for the bet, he thinks. the ‘done it before’ in question only involved pillows and fleshlights, however, but god, nothing compares to the real thing. nothing compares when he can feel you react to his ministrations, thighs shaking at the way your pussy sucks in his slender finger.

“such a g..good boy- ah! can you go faster for me, jaehyun?” you cover your mouth as fast as you can to muffle your moans, grinding down on a single finger that has your face scrunched up in pleasure. he obeys immediately with a flush to his cheeks, pumping his digit at a speed even you couldn’t go at yourself. you let out a gasp when he inserts a second one without warning.

“shit- fuck!” you mewl when his fingers brush up against your clit, observing that his fingers disappearing and reappearing into you makes for an extremely appealing sight. it seems that jaehyun has the same thought, using his free hand to rub his cock that’s forming a tent in his pants. it’s painful, you can tell by the furrow of his brows, but it only fuels the knot in your stomach further.

it’s so appealing that you cum on the spot in a silent scream. your hips have a mind of their own, riding out the orgasm with quickness as your mouth spews profanities and murmurs of jaehyun’s name.

your head hits the wall in a loud thunk, breath heavy from the satisfying climax.

“you did so well, baby. need my help?”

the other’s frantic nods only makes your smile widen, gesturing for him to stand up before your hands reach forward to peel off his pants and soaked briefs. you turn him around, back against your chest when your hand reaches round to wrap around his shaft.

the immediate obscene sounds fill the room, cock hard and wet with pre-cum that jaehyun quivers at the cold air on his dick and your hasty hand that’s stroking him.

jaehyun is thrashing around in your arms, tears threatening to leak from his eyes when you swipe your thumb over his tip. his cries fill your ears like music and you can feel the crystal clear sensation of his hair digging into neck as well as the juices seeping from your pussy.

“(y/n)-ssi- hah… faster please! faster, faster!” he whimpers, head thrown back onto your shoulder. he’s moving against your hand, desperate to chase his high with mouth parted open and eyes closed, he’s there, he’s there, he feels it.

and then you stop. he whines, hips moving on their own accord to feel everything, anything.

“ah, ah, no- stop that.”

you’re turning jaehyun over again, revelling in his full length that you don’t notice his crimson cheeks and messy hair. his forehead is dotted with sweat and he manages out a cute little plea that has you humming.

“are you gonna fuck me good, now, baby?” you pout, drawing a finger down his neck, to his torso and finally resting on his cock.

the shaky breath that jaehyun releases makes you smirk, twitching from the minimal pressure you’ve used. he nods a second later, licking his lips at the dryness that’s taken over them.

“hah… t-that’s it, baby. oh my god, you’re so big…” you moan when he enters you slowly, relishing in the way your soaked cunt provides some lube as the other groans into your shoulder. your bodies are pressed up together with no space in between, the heat of your pussy already causing him to move his hips needily.

“fuck me with all you got, brat,” you spit out, prompting a particularly harsh thrust that has you jerking forward with eyes shut tight.

for someone so shy, jaehyun’s thrusts hit the spot just right, reaching so deep inside of you that you’re hunched over his person. the groans he’s making out only increases your arousal, and combined with the rush of getting caught, it was almost divine how good he’s fucking you.

it’s so divine that you forget that jaehyun was freezing up under your touch earlier, that you forget you’re supposed to be edging him with your words and hands.

“am i doing good, (y/n)-ssi?” the innocence laced within his voice ignites something inside of you, nodding incoherently that you have to give a few seconds before getting your words out.

“mhm- hm- you’re fucking me so good that i can’t even talk, baby. i think that’s- f..fuck- enough proof for you- ah!”

jaehyun basically preens at the praise, burying his face into your neck with the gentleness of a feather while his hips piston in and out of you contrastingly. the squelching noises fill the room like no other, echoing in the classroom that stretches at least two stories, and you’re so tempted to let your whimpers break free, wanting to hear it in the same space that jaehyun’s fucking you in.

“(y/n)-ssi! (y/n)-ssi, oh fuck, baby-“ the pet name slips from his mouth, his movements consisted more of chasing his orgasm rather than pleasing you, but you don’t mind with the way his breaths hit your neck and your sweat mingles with his. you’re grasping onto his shoulders you hard you’re convinced you’re going to dislocate them.

“more, more, more- i want more, (y/n)-ssi,” jaehyun choked out, fisting at your nipples in between his index and thumb. you tremble at the contact, but your hands don’t show it when you brush away the hair that’s stuck to his forehead. his eyes and nose are red, drool falling from the corners of his mouth.

“you’re doing so good, angel.” he moans with the compliment, tears now fully falling as his eyes screw shut at the way you’re clenching around his cock and the way that his balls slap against your cunt lewdly.

“‘m close, (y/n)! mmhhn-!” he doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before he’s cumming deep in you, filling you up with his seed. you don’t miss the way his cock throbs inside of you as his cum continues to leak from his cock. in a second, jaehyun fucks the cum back into you, knowing you haven’t came for the second time.

“make me cum like a good boy, jaehyun,” you pant out, playing with your clit as his thrusts become sloppy yet again. he’s cumming again?

you get your answer when you feel another rush of white hot cum stuffed deep into your pussy, filling you to the brim while you reach your own orgasm. your lips let out little pants, while your eyes are fixated on the way jaehyun’s pupils dilate. it’s not long before he pulls out, your juices mixing with his seed which spills out like a bottle without a lid.

it flows down your thighs uncomfortably, but you swipe it up with a finger lingering at the edge of his lips. the other takes your digit with compliance, making a mess and slurping and slobbering all over. it sparks endless ideas in your mind.

“mhm… maybe next time i’ll let you suck on my cock, huh? then i’d fuck you dumb like what you just did to me. whatd’ya say?” the sheepish smile jaehyun gives is all the confirmation you need, even more determined to ruin him silly when he takes two more fingers into his mouth.

he would just have to collect that bet money a hundred times over, because you’d definitely fuck him that many times.