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tyonfs · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,316 times in 2022

983 posts created (75%)

333 posts reblogged (25%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@tyonfs

@jaemtens

@nctsworld

@chenleyah

@baekhyuns-lipchain

I tagged 1,240 of my posts in 2022

Only 6% of my posts had no tags

#asks - 674 posts

#anon - 473 posts

#tyonfs asks - 184 posts

#fic: besties (gone sexual) - 148 posts

#series: bitch hunters - 125 posts

#fic: and they were roommates - 76 posts

#fic: fight club - 60 posts

#fic: cherry girl! - 51 posts

#fic: netflix and chill - 49 posts

#the brightest star 💫 - 43 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#the denim jacket .. i want an au where jaemin takes u to the fair and lets u wear his denim jacket while ur trying to win a stuffed animal

My Top Posts in 2022:

high-waisted shorts

❝ i noticed you staring at my ass earlier, by the way. do you want me to get my shorts out of the way so you can get a better look? ❞

PAIRING ▸ huang renjun x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, dirty talk, one night stand trope, fingering, palming, oral (fem. receiving), more oral (m. receiving), choking, raw sex (pls use protection), in this society we make important decisions with rock paper scissors, copious amounts of anime references, ft. jaemin, hyuck, and jeno tormenting poor renjun

SUMMARY ▸ huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

PLAYLIST ▸ like by bts • cravin by danileigh, g-eazy • 23 by chase atlantic • sparkle by radwimps

WORD COUNT ▸ 7,850 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ first installment of the bitch hunters series !! wrote this while i was angry bc my discord got hacked and i was furiously typing LOL but hope u enjoy ♡

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2,977 notes - Posted May 26, 2022

netflix and chill

❝ you’ve been eye-fucking me all night, and i was starting to think you weren’t gonna get around to the chill part of netflix and chill. ❞

PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, strangers to lovers au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, smut, couch sex, wall sex, shower sex, fingering, dry humping, lots of teasing!! and some degradation and praise, oral (fem. receiving), choking, size kink, bulge kink, hyuck is insufferable, i’m sorry this is pure filth, despite the warnings there are fluffy moments

SUMMARY ▸ lee jeno doesn’t want to give up the carefree life of a single man, not tied down by emotional entanglements and commitments. that is, until he sees you smacking a man twice your size with a stack of engineering paper. he kind of falls in love, so jeno does what any normal person does and invites you over to netflix and chill.

PLAYLIST ▸ long way 2 go by cassie • sour grapes by le sserafim • foreshadow by enhypen • lucid dream by aespa

WORD COUNT ▸ 10,087 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello hello! i went awol for a tiny bit but im back and i really hope you guys enjoy this !! shoutout to the ice cream sandwich that kept me awake to finish this. second installment of the bitch hunters series ♡

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4,340 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

fight club

❝ i don’t care if she has a pretty face; if this is your first night at fight club, you have to fight.❞

PAIRING ▸ lee jeno x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, fight club au, rich kid au, college au, strangers to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, violent themes (fighting), mentions of blood, 7dream are all part of the fight club, ft. best friends karina and sungchan, sneaking around, fingering, strength/size kink, oral (fem. receiving), choking, sex ofc, lowkey corruption kink, also i swear jeno is soft

SUMMARY ▸ after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.

PLAYLIST ▸ atm by j. cole • baby don’t stop by nct u • new axis by nct u • nate growing up by labyrinth

WORD COUNT ▸ 11,914 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ WOOO ITS FINALLY OUT i hope you guys like it and lmk what u think !! ♡ remember when this was supposed to be 5k words LOL + another note and the tag list is at the bottom (sorry i forgot to respond to yall in the comments but i think i got everyone!) and thank you again for all the love :’)

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4,569 notes - Posted March 3, 2022

bitch hunters

huang renjun, lee jeno, lee donghyuck, and na jaemin are determined to have girlfriends by the end of their college years, but that’s easier said than done when they’re known as the biggest players on campus.

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexual content (smut), alcohol consumption

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ hello !! welcome to my nct dream 00 line series that i’m super hyped for !! since i never did anything for my 1k followers milestone.... or 2k.... or 3k.... or 4k.... consider this my 5k milestone ♡ these are going to be like mini fics (around 5k??) so it’s a refreshing break from the long fics :’) the stories are loosely connected but you don’t have to read in order. send me an ask or comment to be added to the tag list! thank you for reading & i hope you enjoy!!

COMPLETED ▸ november 27th, 2022

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5,164 notes - Posted April 11, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

cherry girl!

❝ i think it’s about time i show you how good i can make you feel. ❞

PAIRING ▸ na jaemin x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, crack, college au, gamer au (twitch streamer!jaemin), friends to lovers, fuckboy au, friends with benefits au, a little bit of angst

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, sexting, dirty talk, corruption kink, the classic “teaching them to fuck” trope, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), dry humping, praise, mc is very innocent, jaemin being a cocky loser (somewhat endearing?), jealous jaemin is a dick, sneaking around, slight exhibitionism, mutual pining

SUMMARY ▸ virginity is a social construct, so it’s not like na jaemin had to know you were a pure, untouched maiden. okay, so maybe you should’ve told him that before he was knuckles-deep inside you.

or, in which progressing from best friends to best friends with benefits is hard, especially when you both have feelings for each other.

PLAYLIST ▸ know now by nct u • fuck up the friendship by leah kate • often by the weeknd • double take by dhruv

WORD COUNT ▸ 16722 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ I’VE BEEN SO EXCITED TO RELEASE THIS i hope yall enjoy and lmk what u think !! ♡ tag list is at the bottom and a big thank you to everyone who asked to be part of it!

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5,465 notes - Posted January 2, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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rhetoricandlogic · 8 months ago

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Absolute Monarchs: A History of the Papacy - J. J. Norwich

2,000 Years of Popes, Sacred and Profane

By Bill Keller

July 7, 2011

John Julius Norwich makes a point of saying in the introduction to his history of the popes that he is “no scholar” and that he is “an agnostic Protestant.” The first point means that while he will be scrupulous with his copious research, he feels no obligation to unearth new revelations or concoct revisionist theories. The second means that he has “no ax to grind.” In short, his only agenda is to tell us the story.

And he has plenty of story to tell. “Absolute Monarchs” sprawls across Europe and the Levant, over two millenniums, and with an impossibly immense cast: 265 popes (plus various usurpers and antipopes), feral hordes of Vandals, Huns and Visigoths, expansionist emperors, Byzantine intriguers, Borgias and Medicis, heretic zealots, conspiring clerics, bestial inquisitors and more. Norwich manages to organize this crowded stage and produce a rollicking narrative. He keeps things moving at nearly beach-read pace by being selective about where he lingers and by adopting the tone of an enthusiastic tour guide, expert but less than reverent.

A scholar or devout Roman Catholic would probably not have had so much fun, for example, with the tale of Pope Joan, the mid-ninth-century Englishwoman who, according to lore, disguised herself as a man, became pope and was caught out only when she gave birth. Although Norwich regards this as “one of the hoariest canards in papal history,” he cannot resist giving her a chapter of her own. It is a guilty pleasure, especially his deadpan pursuit of the story that the church, determined not to be fooled again, required subsequent papal candidates to sit on a chaise percée (pierced chair) and be groped from below by a junior cleric, who would shout to the multitude, “He has testicles!” Norwich tracks down just such a piece of furniture in the Vatican Museum, dutifully reports that it may have been an obstetric chair intended to symbolize Mother Church, but adds, “It cannot be gainsaid, on the other hand, that it is admirably designed for a diaconal grope; and it is only with considerable reluctance that one turns the idea aside.”

If you were raised Catholic, you may find it disconcerting to see an institution you were taught to think of as the repository of the faith so thoroughly deconsecrated. Norwich says little about theology and treats doctrinal disputes as matters of diplomacy. As he points out, this is in keeping with many of the popes themselves, “a surprising number of whom seem to have been far more interested in their own temporal power than in their spiritual well-being.” For most of their two millenniums, the popes were rulers of a large sectarian state, managers of a civil service, military strategists, occasionally battlefield generals, sometimes patrons of the arts and humanities, and, importantly, diplomats. They were indeed monarchs. (But not, it should be said, “absolute monarchs.” Whichever editor persuaded Norwich to change his British title, “The Popes: A History,” may have done the book a marketing favor but at the cost of accuracy: the popes’ power was invariably shared with or subordinated to emperors and kings of various stripes. In more recent times, the popes have had no civil power outside the 110 acres of Vatican City, no military at all, and even their moral authority has been flouted by legions of the faithful.)

Norwich, whose works of popular history include books on Venice and Byzantium, admires the popes who were effective statesmen and stewards, including Leo I, who protected Rome from the Huns; Benedict XIV, who kept the peace and instituted financial and liturgical reforms, allowing Rome to become the religious and cultural capital of Catholic Europe; and Leo XIII, who steered the Church into the industrial age. The popes who achieved greatness, however, were outnumbered by the corrupt, the inept, the venal, the lecherous, the ruthless, the mediocre and those who didn’t last long enough to make a mark.

Sinners, as any dramatist or newsman can tell you, are more entertaining than saints, and Norwich has much to work with. If you paid attention in high school, you know something of the Borgia popes, who are covered in a chapter succinctly called “The Monsters.” But they were not the first, the last or even the most colorful of the sacred scoundrels. The bishops who recently blamed the scourge of pedophile priests on the libertine culture of the 1960s should consult Norwich for evidence that clerical abuses are not a historical aberration.

Of the minor 15th-century Pope Paul II, to pick one from the ranks of the debauched, Norwich writes: “The pope’s sexual proclivities aroused a good deal of speculation. He seems to have had two weaknesses — for good-looking young men and for melons — though the contemporary rumor that he enjoyed watching the former being tortured while he gorged himself on the latter is surely unlikely.”

Sexual misconduct figures prominently in the history of the papacy (another chapter is entitled “Nicholas I and the Pornocracy”) but is hardly the only blot on the institution. Clement VII, the disastrous second Medici pope, oversaw “the worst sack of Rome since the barbarian invasions, the establishment in Germany of Protestantism as a separate religion and the definitive breakaway of the English church over Henry VIII’s divorce.” Paul IV “opened the most savage campaign in papal history against the Jews,” forcing them into ghettos and destroying synagogues. Gregory XIII spent the papacy into penury. Urban VIII imprisoned Galileo and banned all his works.

Most of the popes, being human, were complicated; the rogues had redeeming features, the capable leaders had defects. Innocent III was the greatest of the medieval popes, a man of galvanizing self-confidence who consolidated the Papal States. But he also initiated the Fourth Crusade, which led to the wild sacking of Constantinople, “the most unspeakable of the many outrages in the whole hideous history of the Crusades.” Sixtus IV sold indulgences and church offices “on a scale previously unparalleled,” made an 8-year-old boy the archbishop of Lisbon and began the horrors of the Spanish Inquisition. But he also commissioned the Sistine Chapel.

Even the Borgia pope Alexander VI, who by the time he bribed his way into office had fathered eight children by at least three women, is credited with keeping the imperiled papacy alive by capable administration and astute diplomacy, “however questionable his means of doing so.”

By the time we reach the 20th century, about 420 pages in, our expectations are not high. We get a disheartening chapter on Pius XI and Pius XII, whose fear of Communism (along with the church’s long streak of anti-Semitism) made them compliant enablers of Mussolini, Hitler and Franco. Pius XI, in Norwich’s view, redeemed himself by his belated but unflinching hostility to the Fascists and Nazis. But his indictment of Pius XII — who resisted every entreaty to speak out against mass murder, even as the trucks were transporting the Jews of Rome to Auschwitz — is compact, evenhanded and devastating. “It is painful to have to record,” Norwich concludes, “that, on the orders of his successor, the process of his canonization has already begun. Suffice it to say here that the current fashion for canonizing all popes on principle will, if continued, make a mockery of sainthood.”

Norwich devotes exactly one chapter to the popes of my lifetime — from the avuncular modernizer John XXIII, whom he plainly loves, to the austere Benedict, off to a “shaky start.” He credits the popular Polish pope, John Paul II — another candidate for sainthood — for his global diplomacy but faults his retrograde views on matters of sex and gender. Norwich’s conclusion may remind readers that he introduced himself as a Protestant agnostic, because whatever his views on God, his views on the papacy are clearly pro-reformation. “It is now well over half a century since progressive Catholics have longed to see their church bring itself into the modern age,” he writes. “With the accession of every succeeding pontiff they have raised their hopes that some progress might be made on the leading issues of the day — on homosexuality, on contraception, on the ordination of women priests. And each time they have been disappointed.”

#John Julius Norwich #Absolute Monarchs #mahreviews #long post

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jomiddlemarch · 4 years ago

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Music shall untune the sky

Randy stopped howling after about eight hours on the I-15, once Debbie finally caved and rubbed his gums with some bourbon, the way Sam had been telling her to since about forty-five minutes in. Forty-five minutes into the trip, not the howling. He couldn’t blame the kid, he felt like screaming himself, but he couldn’t resort to the booze until it was Arthie’s turn to drive. Justine had jammed her headphones on after telling Sam to get on the I-15 and drive for eleven hours “or else.” Or else what hadn’t been specified but there was plenty to pick from for a Tuesday. It had been hairy getting out of the city—the streets were crowded, the visibility in the haphazardly packed Cadillac “less than ideal,” as Debbie had put it in the brief silence before her toddler started his blood-curdling screeching.

“He wants his pacifier, he’s overtired,” she explained, like Sam gave a fuck. “I’ve been trying to wean him off it, I don’t have a spare with me.”

“Fucking bad timing,” Sam said. “Seems fitting today’s the day I quit smoking.”

Debbie had started making little offended sounds, huffing and muttering and Sam wished he’d been alone in his office when the alarm had gone off, or maybe with only Justine there, but this seemed about what he could expect from life.

“Don’t take it personally, Debbie. If that’s at all fucking possible,” he said, letting his lower register carry his voice over the waning cries of her spawn. Justine could not possibly have been as annoying at the same age. In the rear-view mirror, he saw Debbie’s pursed lips, the tightness in her jaw that made you aware that just underneath that pore-less skin she had a mouth full of perfect, white teeth. Christ, fucking her would be like sleeping with a machete; her douchebag ex’s pursuit of Ruth suddenly made a lot more sense. Debbie hadn’t taken off her sharply cut blazer before she got in the car, still ready for a phone-call from a studio or an agent. Like they were even on that same planet.

“Fine,” she said and then Arthie asked her some moronic question about the baby or the show, something he blessed Arthie for asking because it meant he didn’t have to say anything else to Debbie for the next hour and a half and by then, the sound of the kid crying had melded with the vibration of the wheels on the road and the few words that cycled through his brain like the stations on Noni’s rosary: go, now, fast, Ruth. The radio stations were nearly all silent or static. (He’d quickly turned off the one the classic rock station that was a man’s increasingly panicked, increasingly soprano screaming.) There was no point in trying to drown anything out.

They’d stopped at his place on the way out of the city after an argument he won by announcing it was his fucking car that was their fucking ark and Noah was calling the shots. Also, he knew a half dozen ways to get to his house from the television station versus getting lost listening to Debbie give directions to her palace in Santa Monica. He’d parked the car in the garage, making sure the door was closed tight before venturing out with Justine and told her they had ten minutes to pack up her winter coat, a toothbrush, and whatever other shit would be useful. She had opened her mouth to protest he couldn’t expect her to know what that was but the clock was ticking and he was already in his bedroom before she got the words out, throwing a change of clothes and as many clean socks and briefs as he could find into a canvas duffle, along with his latest screenplay, his heaviest, least holey sweater, and a king-size bottle of aspirin. In the kitchen, he managed to find some crackers, an unopened box of shredded wheat, a couple cans of chili, a jar of olives, and a string bag of oranges; it wasn’t much but he hadn’t been planning on an emergency road-trip with three women and a toddler. He grabbed the untouched Sicilian torrone he’d meant to bring to Rosalie’s and shoved it in the grocery bag along with all the remaining bottles of liquor (which seemed sadly few given what was ahead of them.) Justine came into the kitchen with two minutes to spare, her bulging backpack over her shoulder, a flashlight in one hand and the baseball bat he kept by the front door in the other. In the last thirty seconds, he had a brainstorm.

“I’ll grab the axe,” Sam said. “Get the afghan off the sofa and whatever spare blankets you can find.”

“We have an axe?” Justine exclaimed, but she was muffled by the godawful crocheted granny squares in mustard and rust that had graced his couch for about twenty years. If Randy threw up on it, it couldn’t look any worse. At least, Sam thought that was true and that they’d probably be finding out for sure around hour sixteen.

He was only off by an hour. Waste of a fucking orange.

Arthie almost hadn’t come along. She’d made a bunch of noise about needing to find Yolanda, while Debbie had been leaving messages for Mark, her mother, Bash, and Cherry, Randy scuttling around like a crab under foot, until Sam had interrupted her.

“Yo’s a big girl and this is a goddamn fucking apocalypse, so either get the hell out and find her or shut up and see if there’s anything you want from your locker or anyone else’s—you have five minutes. And not for nothing, but I think your chances are shit if you try to find her yourself.” He added a shrug for good measure. She was a bright woman and it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have someone in the car who had some medical training but he wasn’t going to fucking beg.

“I guess you’re right,” she said. “I just—I didn’t think something like this could happen.”

“You’ve got a lot of company—way I see it, we have about an hour to get the jump on everyone getting the fuck out of LA. After that, we’ll be stuck here and then we’re screwed and I don’t have enough bourbon or blow to deal with that scenario,” he said. It’d make a hell of a short film, but who’d be around to watch it? Arthie’s dark eyes widened, like she was actually letting herself imagine it, and he felt something catch in his throat.

“Leave her a note on the door. If she’s looking for you, she’ll come here at some point,” he said. And tell me you can drive stick without stripping the brakes.” Like they’d be hitting the brakes once they were on the freeway. All they had going for them was speed and the fact that he’d spent his career getting cozy with monsters—and then taking them apart.

Somehow that was enough—not one of the women asked where they were going. Randy just fucking stared. Little bastard had probably already guessed.

#GLOW #glow netflix #multi-chapter fic #post-canon #post Season 3 #ruth wilder #sam sylvia #debbie eagen #justine biagi #arthie premkumar #ruth/sam #romance #angst #the zombie apocalypse roadtrip AU #you didn't know you wanted #copious use of profanity #safe for the GLOW watch crew #fericita-s

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raibebe · 2 years ago

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sizing it up

Genre: smut Words: 1.494 Prompt: boyfriend Jeno x female reader

Warnings: size kink, toys, oral (f receiving), Jeno monster cock, size training, copious amount of dirty talk

A/N: Thank you to @actually-vl who literally just sent in an ask saying "size training with Jeno" and my mind ran with it :] Special thanks to @horanghoe and the baby @flowerboykun for reading through this for meeee! 💕

“Jeno~ Jeno, please. Come on,” you whined, your thighs trembling and threatening to close around your boyfriend lying between them on his stomach, “Please. Just the tip. I want it, please.” “It won’t fit, baby,” he tried to soothe you, pressing a kiss to your clit that made you jerk away from him, the little bundle of nerves overly sensitive from how long he had already played with you. “It will. Please, I want it so bad,” you all but cried, throwing your head back in frustration. “I don’t want to hurt you, angel. You know what happened last time when we tried.”

Objectively you still knew how much it had hurt and remembered really well that no matter how much lube you had used or how many praises Jeno had whispered at you, it simply would not fit. But subjectively you just really, really needed his stupidly big cock inside you right now and not some stupid plastic toy. “Need it,” you hiccuped, burying your hands in his dark hair to tug at the soft strands to get your desperation across to your stubborn boyfriend, “Need you to be inside of me so fucking bad.” “Fuck, baby,” Jeno cursed, fucking the dark blue toy faster inside you, twisting his wrist so it would drive exactly into the bundle of nerves that made you see stars and moan his name out loud. “Wish it was my cock making you moan like that,” he sighed, busying his lips with messily sucking your clit between them, the taste of the cherry-flavored lube strong on his tongue and the slick sound the dildo was making loud in his ears. “Please give it to me, fuck, Jeno,” you stuttered, the grip in his hair tightening as you felt the knot in your stomach winding tighter and tighter, “Wanna cum on your cock. I wanna feel it inside me so badly. Please. Please give it to me.”

In lieu of an answer, your boyfriend simply fucked the toy inside you as far as he was able to, the flared base sitting snug against your core. The sudden feeling of such utter and complete fullness had your nerve endings set alight, frying your brain as you threw your head back with a loud cry of pleasure as your legs shook around Jeno’s frame. He on the other hand couldn’t take his eyes off of you, drinking in the sight of complete bliss on your beautiful features as he firmly held onto the base of the dildo to keep it in place. If he got to see you in such ecstasy over the pleasure he was able to make you feel with the plastic toy, he didn’t even mind that he wasn’t able to make you feel that with his cock instead which only throbbed painfully at the mere thought of eventually being wrapped up in your tight heat. Biting his tongue to keep a row of profanities from slipping, Jeno slowly kissed his way up your body instead, keeping his lips pressed to your skin to worship every centimeter he was passing. “Hmmm, how does that feel, baby?” Jeno rasped into your ear before he gently bit into the shell, his strong body radiating heat where he had you caged against the mattress. “So full. Feel so full,” you blabbered breathlessly as if you were able to feel the dildo up in your throat. “That already makes you feel full, princess?” Jeno went on, raking his teeth down your pulse and over the bruises he couldn’t stop himself from sucking onto your skin before, leaving goosebumps in his wake that had you shiver. To emphasize his words, he barely pushed and pulled the toy inside you, grinding it as deep inside you as it would go. “So full,” you sobbed, a single tear rolling down your cheek when he lowered his body down onto yours, letting you feel the full length of his cock as he gently rutted against you. “You’re not ready for it yet,” he whispered, his voice sounding more strained than before as he stained the skin of your stomach with his precum. Jeno’s self-control was only so strong and having you trembling and moaning beneath him took its toll on him to the point where he just had to take some of the edge off or he swore he’d just explode. “But I want it.” “I know you do, baby. I know you just want to be fucked stupid on my big cock.” “Jeno, please,” you whined, trying to convince him by wrapping your legs around him, completely forgetting that that would dislodge the dildo still inside you so it easily slipped back out, staining the towel laid out beneath you even more.

“Oh baby,” Jeno only chuckled darkly when colorful curses and moans fell past your lips, your core clenching around nothing and begging him to fill it up with his fingers or his cock. “Want it,” you pouted, reaching between your bodies to wrap a hand around his cock, jerking it slowly even if you couldn’t fully close your fist around him, “And I know you want it too.” “And I will fuck you when you’re ready for it,” he groaned when you guided the tip of his cock to your dripping core, teasing yourself and him alike. And god, how badly he simply wanted to thrust his hips forward right now to bury himself in your tight heat. But seeing you cry over his cock not out of pleasure but out of pain once was already one time too often in his book and he never wanted to make you cry like that ever again. Not if he could help it. “But I want it now,” you argued, pressing your hips up against him, the pressure against your entrance already feeling better than what any toy ever had. “It won’t fit like this,” he gritted out between his teeth, his eyes screwed shut and teeth digging into his lower lip, the pain keeping him grounded so he wouldn’t simply give in and just shove his cock inside you. “Just the tip,” you purred, slapping the fat head of his cock against your wetness. “I’ll hurt you, stop it.” “It’s not that much bigger than the toy.” “Oh?” That comment had Jeno snap his eyes open, a mischievous sparkle in them, “It’s not?”

“Jen- wha-“ “Shhh,” he shushed you when he leaned back, quickly grabbing something from your bedside table as well as from the box you stored all your toys in. “Listen closely, darling,” Jeno rasped, sitting back on his haunches, “This,” he grabbed the dildo he had just fucked you with, still glistening with your essence and the lube alike, and aligned it with your body, “Is how deep that just went.” To emphasize, he unscrewed the lipstick he must have grabbed from the nightstand and drew a line on your lower stomach. “And this,” he grinned as he lined up his cock right next to the mark, “This is the real deal.” Shit. The mark he drew on reached just past your belly button. “And now, I’ll fuck you with this until you scream for me,” Jeno spoke lowly, showing you the pink dildo he had grabbed from the box which was somewhere between the other toy and his cock in terms of length and thickness. Bigger than anything he had fucked you with before and it made your heartbeat pick up because it meant that you were one step closer to having his cock actually inside you.

“Give it some more time and you’ll get my cock to stretch you open like that,” he promised darkly, intently watching your face for any sign of discomfort as he slowly fucked the new toy inside you, imagining how your face would screw up when it was finally his cock stretching you open. “So big,” you groaned, harshly gripping onto his biceps. “We can always go back to the smaller one,” Jeno immediately tried to soothe you, pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks. After all, his number one priority was to make you feel good and if he’d have to wait a little longer before your body was able to accept him, he was okay with that. “No. No, I want this one,” you immediately argued, taking a deep breath to get rid of the tension in your body, knowing that it didn’t help with the stretch. “Such a good girl for me,” your boyfriend started to shower you in praise, slowly moving the toy to get you used to the size while kissing down your body again, paying extra attention to your sensitive areas.

“Jeno,” you gasped, arching into his every touch. “Relax for me,” was the only thing he said before going back to kiss and lick your clit while slowly working up a rhythm with the toy that had you moaning and begging for more in no time at all.

#jeno #lee jeno #nct #neohub #neowritingsnet #nct dream #jeno smut #jeno imagines #jeno scenarios #nct smut #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct dream imagines #nct dream scenarios #nct dream smut

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drunk-on-dk · 2 years ago

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[10:05 pm] | Kim Mingyu (m)

✦pairing: Kim Mingyu x fem reader

✦genre: smut (minors do not even think ab reading below the cut)

✦wc: 956 words (rly tried to focus on making this a shorter drabble/timestamp)

✦summary: One look and Mingyu is addicted, his sinful desires leading him back to you every night.

✦warnings: no pronouns, but female anatomy used; reader wears a garter; unprotected sex (no mentions of wrapping it before tapping it, but u should); rough sweaty sex; nightclub worker; profanity; a lil fingering?; reader is called a doll & siren; a bit of a facial and cum eating; etc (pls let me know if i miss anything, i know i always accidentally leave things out)

Mingyu wasn’t one to indulge in sin, especially not repeatedly. However, he did indulge when it came to you, lusting over you becoming a nightly routine of his. He became greedy and gluttonous, constantly giving in to his desires.

Mingyu was quick to deny and cancel plans ever since he first found you. A celebratory drink after closing out a business deal at a dive bar became a visit to the local nightclub. You were one of those dancers caged in and placed on a pedestal like a little doll on display, untouchable to the crowd as you danced to the beat of whatever track was playing. A Go-Go dancer of sorts, glorified bottle server at best. Half of your job had been to pour shots down the throat of paying club-goers, dirty cash being shoved into the costume garter that clung tightly to your thigh.

Mingyu was absolutely entranced by you, eyes glued to your every move as you paraded throughout the club and served various groups of men who hooted and hollered your way. When you finally made your way over to Mingyu’s table, he realized you had him hooked around your tiny little finger. You were like a siren, pulling him in with every movement of yours.

Maybe that’s how Mingyu found himself back at this club almost every night of the week, just to have a lick of an interaction with you.

Although Mingyu radiated confidence, he was quite timid, pouty bottom lip jutting out as he glanced nervously around the club before spotting you. He’d find himself loosening up when you’d come by though, pretty eyes twinkling as you’d ask if he’d like a shot of whatever liquor you were carrying. Of course, he’d oblige, handing you the cash as your fingers delicately wrapped around his jaw, the slight pressure of your nails digging into the skin making his whole-body tingle as you opened his mouth. The second the alcohol would hit his tongue he felt euphoric, invincible, opening his eyes up to you staring down at him like a vixen as he gulped down the bitter liquid.

No one aroused him like you did, any movement you made had blood shooting right down to his dick. He’d have to refrain from palming himself for relief in the middle of the club, breathing heavily as he’d gulp down whatever beer he had ordered earlier in the night.

He almost thought it was shameful how much money he spent at this club, giving you copious amounts of cash each night as he’d yearn for your attention. However, it seemed to work in his favor when he ended up pressed tightly against you in the private rooms late one night. You must have lost yourself to your own desires as well, and Mingyu was proud of that. All the lingering touches as he’d hand you money had you giving into the dark stares that promised you pleasure.

Now here he is, cock buried deep inside your cunt as he fucks you against the velvet walls of the powder room in the far back corner of club. Your two sweaty bodies pressed feverishly against each other, whilst his large hand covered your mouth to muffle your screams, pounding relentlessly into you and whiny moans slipping past his own lips as he desperately chased what he needed most.

You gripped onto him tightly as he hammered into you, pulling out far enough just so he can slam back into you, hitting you right in the spot that made the coil inside of you tighten and burn. Your makeup had to have been a mess, the smoky eyeliner trailing down your cheeks as you cried into Mingyu’s hand.

He’d love it though; pulling his hand away, thumb trailing your jaw over where your lipstick was smeared, just so he can slip two fingers into your mouth. Of course, you knew exactly what to do, sucking at his fingers as he groaned out, “fuck, you’re perfect, don’t know if I could find anyone else like you.”

He’d fuck you so senseless, Mingyu holding your body in his arms as his fingers trailed down your torso to the space between you two. He looked so gorgeous, sharp canines biting into his bottom lip as he focused on thrusting in and out of you, fingers working at your clit as he moaned in relief. You became impossibly tighter, walls squeezing from the extra stimulation.

The heat between you two was maddening, fucking you so hard that you almost bounced on his cock even though he was doing all the work. He’d make sure you’d cum first, one hand holding up your body as it began to collapse whilst the other worked relentlessly at your clit. You’d see stars every time he’d make you cum, the pleasure incomparable to anything you’ve ever experienced.

The way you’d tighten around him, walls pulsing as you came would have him cumming in an instant, pulling you off him to push you down to your knees. He’d release himself all over your face and breasts. The ruined makeup from your sweat and tears only becoming more smeared from the way he’d run his fingers through his own cum and pushing it into your mouth for a taste.

Mingyu thought you were stunning this way, his addiction to you only becoming more serious now that he’s had a taste of you and your body. Mingyu would continue visiting you nightly, his unholy desires leading him right back to you at the same club. He knew exactly where to find you, greedy for your attention and pussy every night. Not that you could complain, you’d indulge in sinning if it meant you had him as well.

#svthub #seventeen smut #kim mingyu smut #mingyu smut #svt smut #seventeen mingyu

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greycaelum · 3 years ago

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Jujutsu Kaisen: Gojo Satoru X Reader

(Kaleidoscope Series || Clouds and Mochi Chapters ||)

[Back in the warmth of your arms where my heart belongs]

[Notes and Warnings: pregnant smut, NSFW, profanity, dacryphilia, fingering, breeding kink, lactation kink, aftercare. If you are not comfortable with these topics, press the 'back' button. Yourself, your responsibility. Word Count: 3.7k]

[Song used: You Set My World on Fire by Loving Caliber]

Wandering Caress

To avoid straining his wife's pronounced belly, Satoru held your waist as he plants kisses on the curve of your spine. Satoru worries your knees might give up from the edging and pleasure that he seizes your hips tight. He slowly moved his waist, shallow thrusting from behind into your soft petals. The way your walls snugly wrap around him akin to a tender vice every time his manhood pulls out leaves Satoru hot and bothered. Like biting into a fruit he sinks his teeth to your shoulder blade, sucking on the supple skin. You moaned like a melody and panted at the sensual pace he's been doing for the past hours. Your face pressed on the pillow, eyes tightly shut focused on the gratifying rhythm of Satoru's slow thrust. The tip of his shaft kissing your soft folds creates a slippery sound of flesh slamming against each other.

"'Toru!" You cried at the sudden intrusion of his tip on your deep spot, your body lurch forward and tears fell on your rosy cheeks.

A drop of sweat cascaded down Satoru's face, biting his lower lip to suppress the urge in slamming his hips to your behind, cautious not to harm you in such a sensitive state.

"Fuck, I miss you," he growled, penetrating your warm and slippery gummy walls with his stiff member, slow but with power in every push touching your swollen nub. Satoru's palm crawled down to caress the stretch of your belly, swelling with his child. He licks his lips, delighting at the thought a part of him is growing inside you.

"My k-knees," you gasped feeling your legs start getting tired of you.

Dainty palm clasps the back of his, you turn your head to look at him. To Satoru's eyes, you look like a goddess, with your beautiful tresses falling down your shoulders and your glowing skin against the dim light of the lamp.

The dampness of his cum from the previous love-making milk down the base of his member, a clear gathering of white fluids into a ring was enough to make Satoru shudder, stomach fuzzy, and hormones feral to mark you and drive his shaft to slam into your cervix.

"Tired?" Satoru asked wiping the tears on your cheeks, cupping your face in his large palm.

A small nod made him halt his movement and carefully withdraw his shaft from your honeypot. Whimpers left your lips at the sudden hollowness, missing him back inside to fill you. Amidst your whines Satoru stared with pride at the copious amounts of thick white moisture trickle down his wife's flower petals, a testament you've been doing the act for quite some hours.

"Darn it, I'm sorry Hon," Satoru growled, gritting his teeth. He was never one to be attached to worldly things, but it's another matter when it's you and his kids. It's an entirely different matter.

A hand reaches to his face making Satoru's eyes open and looks at your questioning orbs, a small frown adorning your beautiful face.

"Why are you holding back Love?" Your red lips asked softly, a delicate look in your beautiful orbs.

Satoru stilled, looking down at you, lost in your eyes.

This woman, how does she know even my deep thoughts? He leaned to your touch, feeling the softness of your hand. Closing his eyes to feel you. You've always been his home, your touch has always been his solace despite the despair before him. It's like the half of his soul no matter how bleak it may seem, but when you're near his heart is always bared and yearning for your presence.

His harbor before and after the storm. Salvation to his damned soul...

Dark blue eyes bore into your soul, journeying down to your cream-filled snatch, the gooey whiteness dribbling to the sheet. It's a shame to waste it. His forefinger fluttered to your folds reeling you in shivers as he scoop out the thick glob of seed and push it back inside your heat joining the rest of his juices inside you.

You moaned between sobs, knees powerless and willingly submitted to Satoru playing with your honeypot.

The sight of his digits creaming drives Satoru to the brink of madness. His big fingers speed up as you squeeze him in, your moans and cries only made his aching shaft harder.

"You take me so well Hon," Satoru added another finger and felt you deliciously quiver around him.

"Good girl, that's it, Baby, let go," he coaxed you. His thumb teasingly rubs your aching nub in circles sensitive after hours of fucking making the coil in your stomach tug hard and accumulate close to climax.

"D-don't stop!" Your moans get louder begging him to make you cum.

"Say please," Satoru cooed dragging his fingers in and out making squelching sounds.

"N-ugh! S-satoru!"

Blame his caveman's brain that needs to fill you to brim with his seed. Seeing you pregnant with his child barely eased his nerves, he needs to mark every inch of you to remind anyone who dares to look at you that only Satoru can satisfy you, no one else.

A loud whine spill from you as he pulls out his fingers, without making you cum.

"I n-need you," stammers of slurred words reverberated from you. "Badly," you gasped out.

The voraciousness in him screaming to covet you more than you could imagine. It's not enough that you're tied with his body and soul his hunger is nowhere satisfied for you. He started riling you early at 8, when he turned to look at the clock it was already a quarter before midnight. If only you could read his mind.

Satoru's hand crawls to your belly, feeling the warmth and sweat combined, you smell so sweet and intoxicating that he's panting to devour every inch of you. He wants to leave his mark, in every inch of your soul, every step your foot takes Satoru wants to remind you of him. Would you be scared if you know how insane Satoru could be when it comes to you?

"You asked for this," he warned, kissing you hard and passionately, intertwining your tongues. His mouth traversed down, pouring your neck with his suckling and kisses.

Pulling down your ankles, a shrill yelp left your lips. Satoru shifted your body, laying your back on the soft bed, parted your legs and he positioned himself. Inserting his throbbing member back to your scorching softcore Satoru groaned like a pained lion, plunging to your tight walls it's so hard to stop his hands from flipping you over and fuck you without regard after the months of your missing touch and presence to calm him down.

"Slow down, S-'toru,"

"Really?" Your husband raised a brow. His index finger descended down to trace your navel making you shiver in anticipation. Flashing a smirk he murmured. "But you're clenching so hard around me Hon." He shifted inside you making you moan. "You want me to slow down, but your pussy is telling me to go harder." He taunted.

"No, I-ahhh!" A gasp escaped you when he penetrated you to the hilt that your eyes rolled in pleasure. Short breaths and pretty tears dribble down your cheeks.

"Shhh... It's okay, it's okay, breathe Baby," Satoru crooned, not at the least regretful but bent down to caress your heavy belly, soothing your hiccups with his careful touch. Satoru just can't resist teasing you as he pushes his hard length into your clenching wet flower.

His hand reaches your waist gripping it as he reaches deeper inside your already stuffed heat, moving in and out, the tip of his shaft keeps bumping into the doors of your cervix. Your filled core drool around his huge, hard length spearing inside of you.

You keep mumbling incoherent words about how full you already are but Satoru is deaf, your words only flooded him with ways to cram you with his load.

"I should fill you until you can't think of anything else but me," he groaned watching your brows furrow and spasm of wetness drench his shaft pulsating inside you. "I'm gonna cum in you, I'm gonna make you a mommy,"

"'m already—uhmm!" You can't finish the sentence when his length ram too deep in you.

Your voluminous breast, filling in with milk for his child heavily bounces with his pounding. He could already imagine latching on your bosom with the creamy taste of your milk bathing his tongue. His hand gropes your engorge chest, kneading them not too hard knowing they hurt a lot.

You gaze up to him with lidded eyes, hazy with lust and need. Satoru watches your taut nipples grow harder as he fondles them in his fingers, they're like scarlet roses against the soft tenderness of your milky breasts. So precious and mouthwatering to his eyes.

Satoru dived down to lick the perky buds and envelope one with his hot tongue making you moan and arch your back, pushing him closer making him moan at your response. Satoru's tongue flicks and suckles on the cute puppies lavishly licking and pulling the buds like a baby craving for its mother's milk.

"Ahh!" You thrash, breathlessly crying at the overstimulated of his hard invasion in your abused flower that you could feel the love juices mixing and leaking out while Satoru suckles one of your nipples and knead the other with his rough palm.

"Satoru, I can't, n-no more," a cry filtered out of you, hugging the back of his neck, your toes curled so hard it's almost cramping.

"You can," Satoru interjected, heaving his body up and licking the tears on your cheeks. He kissed your temples and plowed into you gentler this time, the veins of his member throbbing in you that your walls could remember his shape even as he pull out. "Go on, cum Baby," he cajoled as you tighten around his thick shaft suffocating him to slow down, a tell-tale of your near climax.

Not wanting to frustrate his pregnant lady anymore, Satoru thrust steadily into the tightness, chasing after his orgasm, and brought his finger to rub your taut nub making you cry but his mouth drowned your sobs.

Devouring your lips, stroking your hot tongue with his, exchanging salacious went kisses as he licentiously move in and out of you. Hot breaths intermingling, a string of saliva between as you pulled away and Satoru chuckled.

"I'm c-cumming," you stuttered out between cries, gripping his shaft tight between your spasms as hot liquid leaked out of your flower, in bated breath you whimpered and occasionally clench from the post-orgasmic bliss.

"Fuck!" The hair on Satoru's nape stood up at your sight, pregnant and satiated underneath him. Spurring his hips, he push into you harder, the whines and cries on your lips showered his instincts with delight and soon his shaft pulsated inside you, spurting hot streams of his love juices in your already pregnant womb for the nth time tonight. "I'm gonna stuff you full Hon, yeah?

Groaning curses of how tight and perfect you wrap around him he softly thrust riding out the heavy jets of mind-numbing orgasm until he felt it slowly calm down. Reeling on the sensation of his fading climax, Satoru huff a heavy breath, filling his lungs with oxygen as he comes down from his high.

"Hon?" Satoru noticed you were unmoving. "Baby?" Satoru rub your arms but notice your heavy and slow breathing.

"And she slept on me," Satoru tutted, poking your cheeks but receiving no reply, he gently removed himself from your core and stood up to get a towel to wipe you. He grimace at the thought of wiping off his cum. If it's up to him we would rather wake up tomorrow inside you. It's easier and better that way for him.

At this rate his instincts are that of a caveman: eat, sleep, and fuck with you.

His eyes landed on your swelling belly, a twitch of guilt landed his conscience for intruding on his child's sleep but what can he do? The need to satisfy his fill had always been stronger than his shame after all.

"Sorry munchkin, Daddy has needs too," leaning down he kissed the peak of your tummy and smiled. "Papa can't wait to meet you," placing another kiss, this one lingering longer. Satoru is looking forward to the months to come.

Satoru doesn't know how you've provided yourself without him, he spoiled you rotten with Kouki, getting you whatever you want and need. He was looking forward to another baby and yet he missed so much of his Little Treasure growing inside you. It makes his blood boil just imagining your frustration and loneliness. Seeing that there's no one he can direct the blame, and he's never been the one to hold long-term grudges Satoru scratches the back of his head and carefully wipe your body, at some point, he massaged your legs with lotion up to your belly, the remorse of fucking you with no principle despite being in a delicate state overcame him as he quietly makes it up to you.

Nonetheless, he's not repentant in any second of it. If you didn't fall asleep he would probably still be riling you on the sheets with you until dawn.

After cleaning you up Satoru climb in the bed and gather your sleeping body to his chest, placing a protective hand above your belly and kissing the back of your head. Cuddling with you is Satoru's best way to tune down the remaining flame in him. He turned off the lamp and held you tight in his arms.

"I love you Hon." Please don't get tired of me... Like a devotion Satoru prayed since the first time he made you cried. He wanted to shield you away from the bitter reality of the burden being with an exhausting man such as him... But no matter how much he tries to, he can't.

So at least...

A soft sigh left your lips shifting to face him and curl in Satoru's warm arms as he stroked your head, soothing you in dreams.

At least, may the heavens let him keep his peace in your arms.

II.

"Satoru! You're abusing your alib—ahh!"

Satoru just moaned, rocking his hips from your behind to create friction in your core where his shaft is edging in inch by inch splitting you between, rubbing the velvety folds he can't get enough of. Damn, it's so tight! He relished after months of being deprived of your sweet body.

He's deaf to your complaints, he needs to be deaf if he wants round one early morning! He's desperate, alright? Give it up.

"Don't you miss me? I was dying to hold you months ago," Satoru murmured from behind you as he began pressing kisses on your shoulders and caressing your hip with his thumb to persuade you. "Don't you feel sorry for me Hon? You don't want me touching you? You don't like my kisses anymore?!" He fired one by one making you shield your ear to block him out. Satoru laughed and pried your hands away from your head and he received a glare from you.

"Of course I do! But, I'm already sore last night," you complained and gradually relaxed at the circling of his fingers above your belly. The winner in this kind of conversation is always Satoru anyway, in your case, it's just a matter of soliciting advice for him not to overdo it.

"No way, this and that is different," Satoru harrumphed, biting your shoulders and giggling at your squirming. His hand sneakily palm your breast and started to move rigorously from your back, but the door started ringing with knocks.

"Darn it! People are trying to get laid here!" Satoru cursed and reluctantly removed himself after you pushed him away. "People have no consideration to a touch-starved husband," he mumbled under his breath with a frown clashing on his brows.

The person outside mouthed apologies and left. Satoru climb back and insisted to stay with you in bed.

"Don't mind them, let's cuddle Hon, I'm cold," Satoru pouted, pulling the blankets to your neck and slipping his hand underneath to continue fondling and groping your body but you slip away before he could change your mind.

"Let it be, I'm hungry," you added, squirming at the dampness inside you as Satoru threw his hands and leg with a disgruntled groan. An 'ouch' filtered out when you tried to sit. Your heavy 28 weeks baby bump making it hard to get up the bed.

"You alright there Hon?" Satoru quickly pulled up his boxer and went around the bed to help you sit up and kneel to put your slippers on your feet.

"You can stay in bed, I'm going out before you harass me."

"Oh-ho! Said the person who used to beg me to stay in bed when she was pregnant with Kouki," Satoru snickered and stumbled back to evade the incoming kick from you.

"I don't remember such a thing!" You snarl at him with flaming cheeks.

"What? You used to cry whenever I go to work," Satoru jibed.

"No way! I never cried, I was sleepy and you know my eyes water when I wake up."

Pity you because you didn't notice that glint passing through your husband's eyes. A strong hand pins your wrist above your head, Satoru smirk at you eyeing the marks littered on your body, his other hand found your legs rubbing your knees and hovering on your inner tights.

"I think, I should remind you, my beautiful wife, hmmm?"

"Of what exactly? Huh?" You taunted back.

"Of how crazy you are for me."

Satoru captured your lips shoving his tongue in your mouth, kissing you deeply, carnal hunger displayed as he greedily devour your lips until you beg for oxygen. When you separated Satoru looks into your eyes filled with contentment and happiness while his orbs swirled with excitement.

"Just one, I promise I'll do it quickly," he whispered and bite your lobe feeling your defenses loosen and allowing him to take you with the soft sun rays peeking through the curtain.

III.

"Oba-sama, where's Mama and Papa? I'm hungry," Kouki curled his toes, eyes darting to the eggs and bacon on the table.

"You can eat first child, your Mama and Papa are..." the elder woman cleared her throat. "They're still in bed, they'll come down later."

Kouki frowned at this but shrugged as his grandmother fill his plate with a generous share of eggs, fried rice, and portions of bacon, there was also fresh orange juice by the side. The curiosity faded, as he started eating. After all, he is still a kid, easily distracted.

The door from the second floor finally creak open and footsteps shuffle to come down the stairs. Kouki perked up from his plate and saw his parents come down, and fresh out of the shower.

Kouki frowned at your dress, It's hot and you're wearing a dress reaching your neck and long sleeves. Mama must be cold... Kouki shook his head and smiled brightly at you. You walk funny too... But Kouki is used to seeing you waddling as your belly grows each day he didn't pay much attention to it.

You greeted his Grandma and lean down to kiss Kouki's forehead, greeting him a good morning. The elder lady excused herself to return into the main building, politely declining your invitation for her to stay for breakfast.

"You should've asked her too," You elbowed Satoru about to swallow a spoonful of rice. You've never seen him talk properly with his mother since he came back.

"Next time," Satoru shrugged nonchalantly and continued eating. "Do you want this Kikufuku?"

Kouki looks up to his Papa holding a perfect sunny side up and puts it on the mochi's plate.

"Here, you should eat more to build your stamina Honey," Satoru hummed putting a hotdog on the center of your plate and two eggs side-by-side making your face profusely blush and throw a dirty look at his grinning face.

"Insufferable pervert!" You hissed lowly.

"Ohhh? May I remind you, this pervert made you pregnant, wife," Satoru facepalmed, raising a brow at you while his lips stretch to a Cheshire grin.

Kouki stared at his parents bantering. They look like fighting but the amused glint on his Papa's eyes and relaxed shoulders of his Mama told him to not mind those two. Kouki continued eating and smiled thinking he could go out with his Papa and play with him again.

"Papa, your here," Kouki pat his neck and pointed at his Papa, "It's so red, did a mosquito bite you?"

You froze and look at Satoru's neck exposed on his sleeveless shirt. Satoru broke out in laughter and reach for water gulping until half before answering his son while looking at you.

"Yeah, a big mosquito was in the bedroom last night, Papa had to chase it around all night, geez can't believe the mosquito bit me!" He exclaimed dramatically but underneath his feet is already rubbing your ankles.

"I have an insect spray, you want Papa?" Kouki blinked invested in his father's story.

Satoru burst out in laughter while you shut your eyes resisting the need to smack your husband's head with a slipper.

"Your son wants to insect spray you," Satoru leaned down and whispered to your ear between chuckles. Fingers inched in his tight and pinch him hard with a glare. Satoru let out an 'aww' with a pained look at your fingers.

Turning to your son, you smiled and urged him to eat more.

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm gonna smack that mosquito later it also bit me last night," you smiled and smoothed Kouki's hair making the boy nod.

So that's why Mama's wearing weird clothes. Bad mosquito. Kouki shrugs and forgets the matter.

[Grey says: I'm not sure how this one turned out, my writer's block and burnout are hitting hard. Smut has never been my forte in writing, but I hope you have a nice Valentine's Day. Someone asked about Satoru and Y/n about Valentine's baby, but it's not possible in the timeline I made, Satoru was still sealed during Feb. I didn't write much about the first few days after Satoru came back and Y/n pregnant. Let this one suffice that.]

—GreyCaelum

PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME

Check out the Masterlist for more

All rights and credits of the Jujutsu Kaisen character(s) mentioned images(s) and songs(s) used belongs to their respective owner(s)

General/Kaleidoscope Series Taglist: @ice-icebaby @aeanya @gummy-dummy

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sanjitiques · 3 years ago

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content: sub!bruno, dom!reader, no pronouns are used for reader, reader has a cock, handjob, twt porn link. that’s it i think.

touching bruno justtt like this… yes

silently watching him whimper and moan, biting his knuckles with a hot flush spread across his face. ears burning from the lewd shlcks! haunting his room, spurring him to mewl out more pleads. sweat beads at his bronze skin, reminding him of the scrunched up ruana that failed to escape your frenzy of bites and licks to his swollen nipples.

your hands tug at his abused cock, watching his tip spurt copious amounts of precum. the slide is so slick and wet you have to tighten your hold on him, causing him to piston his hips into the heavenly drag of your fists.

“ O-Oh— ¡Dios mío!” Bruno yelps out profanities in his mother tongue, hands flying from his mouth to his nipples. pinching, pulling, rolling at his puffy nubs. his thrusts become more erratic and sloppy, a warning of his oncoming climax.

his head falls back onto the pillow below him, brown and scattered grey curls splayed out like a halo. “ m gonna c-cum!” his back arches off the bed, hips going still while your fists continue their assault on his cock. Bruno’s balls pull tight against him while he lets out a almost pornographic moan.

face streaked with pleasured tears bruno moans your name on his tongue, still unconsciously rolling his hips up to meet your stilled fist. shocks of overstimulation causing him to hic and twitch until he finally stops his pleasureful session.

he looks so beautiful and fucked out, drool trailing down his stubble, bit marks leading from his neck to his chest, hair left in a frenzy from heated kisses. so yummy you just want to fuck him yourself.

“mi amor..” Bruno croaks out in a strained voice, “ if you keep looking at me like that..it’s gonna go up again..” he covers his face with his hands in embarrassment.

shuffling can be heard from behind his hands then he feels a sudden weight on his chest. removing his hands he looks up to see you hovering above him. confusion laces his features but before he could ask what you were doing he felt something heavy on his face.

your cock slaps against his cheek, meaty n heavy in all it’s glory. Bruno let’s out hot puffs of air onto your shaft, tongue itching to reach out and get a taste. hot veins run along the side, curving upward towards your mushroom tip. he feels his mouth water at the sight before him, whimpers already making its way up his throat.

a perverted grin stretches across your face, clouded eyes watches his tongue slowly wet his lips in anticipation. you grab your dick and tap it against his cheek a few times, knowing his is already twitching back to life behind you.

“suck it well and i’ll fuck you till you cant use that pretty brain of yours, kay?”

#he’s so sweet i love bruno i want to marry him and ruin him #dom!reader #sub!bruno #sub!bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal #bruno madrigal x reader #bruno madrigal x reader smut #bruno madrigal smut #encanto x reader #encanto x reader smut #sub bruno madrigal #dom reader

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hansolmates · 3 years ago

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jk! crazy rich asians au

rich!jk x middle-class!reader (f) genre/warnings; crazy rich asians!au, nyc!au, chaebol!jk, strangers to lovers, a meet-cute, jk is disgustingly rich, soft slow-lovin sex, lots of profanity, alcohol use w/c; 1.5k a/n; dreamy sighs. remember vic’s black card couple? It totally brought me back to how fun and amazing that series was. I really really enjoyed writing this. thank u for submitting!

“Do you… need help?”

“Uh, no?”

You’re not an employee, but you are an avid Target shopper. The person in question is buying a lot—no, a fuckton of things. The most expensive and best-smelling fabric softeners, over ten pints of Halo Top ice cream, and a twenty dollar toothbrush holder you’ve been eyeing for weeks in the hope it’ll go on sale.

The man looks absolutely clueless, not because he doesn’t know what to buy, but it seems like he doesn’t know how to end his Target run. Fear not, you’re a dedicated master of controlling your stress-induced Target runs, so you do your good deed of the day and decide to help him out.

“Are you furnishing an apartment?” you ask lightly, eyeing copious amounts of cookies and ramen that’s tucked in the very bottom of the cart.

“Um, yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck, looking down sheepishly on the polished white floor. He’s dressed down in a plain white t-shirt and black sweatpants, but you’re impressed that they’re actually clean and creased nicely. “My mom already got me the apartment, and I already told her that’s too much. I told her that I could do everything myself, but she’s so insistent.”

“Ah, overprotective mother?”

“You have no idea,” he grins, “if you have any pointers for a clueless bachelor living alone for the first time, I’d appreciate it.”

This man is sneaky. Under the guise of being completely helpless (and a bachelor, no less!) you can’t help but aid this man.

Most importantly, his smile is completely and utterly heart melting.

With a fake cough, you pat your stomach to quell the aching butterflies smothering your chest. You dare another look into his pretty brown eyes when you quickly spit your name out, which causes Jungkook to smile even wider. “Well Jungkook, for starters,” you pull up your Target app on your phone, “do you have a Red Card? It saves you money on any Target purchase.”

“No, but I have a black card?” he turns his head in confusion, not understanding the use of Target’s loyalty program, “that should work too, right?”

You simply laugh, and reason with him that you’re thinking of two completely different things.

It’s the first time you’re spending a night in Jungkook’s apartment. He never lets you over, reasoning that your apartment is warm and smells like sugar, like what a home is supposed to be. You should be excited to be nosy in Jungkook’s apartment and see all his cute baby pictures and the type of tea he drinks. Normally you’d be over the moon, but you’re love-drunk as shit and all you want to be is wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms.

He doesn’t bother turning on the light as he weaves through his apartment building, holding you securely in koala style as he makes his way to your bedroom. It’s a blur as you’re currently occupied by the way Jungkook somehow manages to grind his stiff dress pants against your thinly clothed core, so you don’t see much of the rooms. You can only make out the faint scent of leftover lavender incense as Jungkook doesn’t waste time throwing you on his plush bed, following soon to press his body against yours.

“You’re completely, and utterly amazing,” he spreads kisses throughout every part of your body, irons them throughout your skin with warm presses of his champagne coated lips, “gonna love you so good tonight, baby.”

You simply moan in response, shimmying out of your little black dress and tilting your head to give Jungkook more access to your skin.

These past three months have been nothing short of a blissful whirlwind. Jungkook, who moved into the city as a hopeful bachelor, ironically ended up being cuffed by you after two weeks of not-so-accidental Target runs and lunch dates.

As much as you’re enamoured by his sweetness and eagerness to learn how to live on his own, he’s inspired by your independence and charm. A self-made woman, he calls you, proudly showing you off to your friends whenever he can. Oftentimes you try to reason with him that he’ll be self-made too, as he’s working on a start-up that’s just inches off from launching. Every time however, he kisses your forehead and simply says that it’s just not the same as you.

“So lucky to have met you,” he sighs, pumping his dick languidly as he admires your glistening body, “I think Target is my favorite store in the world. Who the fuck needs Gucci or Yves?”

You giggle deliriously, thinking he’s just saying silly shit as he always does. Your giggles soon hasten into whines when you feel the slick head run up and down your engorged folds, eager to have that full and warm feeling eat you up. “Koo,” you run your fingers through his cropped dark hair, “please, fuck me good.”

As Jungkook slowly but firmly pounds you into the mattress, your tipsy haze has you thinking how tonight feels different than most. For one thing, you’re in his apartment. It feels special, like you’ve managed to break through another layer of the reserved yet open Jeon Jungkook. Sure, he’ll tell you from top to bottom his top 10 Greatest Anime Betrayals, but so far he hasn’t told you much about his family and life before coming to the city.

Again, you think it’s the alcohol, but it isn’t just the sex, it’s the vibe. It just feels different than going home to your too-tiny one-room apartment. How is his sex playlist echoing through his walls so seamlessly? It makes The Weeknd’s I Feel It Coming sound so melodious, and you’d never admit that to him. Even the sheets feel luxurious, as if they’ve been crafted by the finest seamers in the country.

When the both of you climax and nuzzle against the sheets, you stop your weird mid-sex overthinking and just let yourself love. Jungkook wipes the sweat off your brow and uses cucumber-scented baby wipes to clean upstairs and downstairs. There’s nothing different, there mustn't be. It must be extra special because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, the most amazing man in the world.

You don’t even remember falling asleep, the mattress is just that damn soft.

The next morning, you have a slight headache and your mouth feels like paper. Smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth, you force yourself out of bed. Pawing at the nightstand for your phone, you’re met with a cool paperweight.

Your eyes bug out as you see that a gold bar is hugging the sensitive documents against the sleek black table. Sparkly, but still dull enough to look authentically expensive. Is that real gold? You have half a mind to put the bar in your mouth and give it a little bite, just to check.

Wide awake, you chance a look at Jungkook, who’s still sleeping soundly and facing the other side of the bedroom. Careful not to wake him, you press a single toe on the cool espresso colored hardwood and move to find his dress shirt to put on.

Buttoning the silky material enough to cover your bits, you step out the door to see if you can make breakfast.

You scream. Where the fuck are you?

“The hell, babe?” Jungkook is all but calm at your shrill attack, his groggy morning voice that normally has you melting all but ignored.

“Jungkook,” you whisper in fear, unable to turn around and face him, “whose house did we break into last night?”

This is the penthouse, AKA, the most expensive fucking floor in the whole building. There are wall-to-wall double windows, with light-blocking curtains that open with a motion of your arm. The television is the width of the wall, with speakers embedded into the ceiling. There’s a wine fridge as tall as Jungkook mounted on the kitchen wall. The countertops are a milky white marble, matching the floor that’s so shiny you can see your coochie clearly from the opening of your button down. You promptly close your legs.

“Wha?” Jungkook steps behind you, a sheet wrapped around his waist to establish a modicum of decency. Now that it’s morning, you can clearly see that the eggshell sheets look so buttery they must be Egyptian. “I told you, I live here.”

“That’s Swarovski Crystal,” you point accusingly at the million-cut vase holding an abundant amount of sunset orange tiger lilies on the kitchen counter, which you’re absolutely sure do not grow naturally in this country. “I’m pretty sure I saw Michelle Obama with that vase on an episode of Home and Garden.”

“It was a gift,” Jungkook shrugs tiredly, and you already know he wants to pull you back to bed.

“Jungkook,” you grit, “what the fuck? Do you sell drugs?”

It’s meant to be a half-joke, but you falter slightly when you see Jungkook deflate. Maybe he hoped you’d be more casual about this, but from the look on your face, Jungkook deduces that it’s wishful thinking. He opens his blanket, and pulls you inside, relishing in the warmth of your body.

“I… have some explaining to do,” he mumbles dejectedly, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fluff #btswritingcafe #btsguild #jungkook drabble

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nejibaby · 4 years ago

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Fun

Pairing: Monkey D. Luffy x F!Reader

Summary: With you near-death experience in Dressrosa, you’re craving for a certain type of release.

Warning: NSFW!

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: A certain Luffy fanart has made me think of dirty thoughts about him so here I am posting this filthy thing. I’m so flustered, it’s not even kinky but writing smut really flusters me LOL 🤣 Please let me know your thoughts~

Celebrations are usual occurrences in the Straw Hat crew. Despite only having almost half the crew around, it doesn’t make the party any less lively. In fact, the presence of the new allies formed in Dressrosa makes up for the absence of the other crew members.

The near-death experience makes you crave for a certain type of release. And with the copious amount of alcohol being passed around by everyone, it doesn’t take you too long to gather up courage to find someone to help you.

Soon enough, you’re seated on a random guy’s lap, heavily making out with him, a few meters away from the celebrating people. Because of the alcohol, you’re not entirely sure who he is, but you have to admit he’s skilled at using his lips, his tongue, and his hands.

He’s just about to move you into a more private location, but before he could take you away, an arm wraps itself around your waist and suddenly you’re being pulled back into someone else’s lap.

You look at the person who just interrupted your moment, only to be surprised upon finding out it was your captain. “Luffy, what the hell?!”

“Oi, what were you doing with Torao?”

Torao? Trafalgar Law? You whip your head to where you previously were to confirm if the guy who you were with is truly him. Lo and behold, you find Law glaring at Luffy, and then angrily walking away.

You pout and let out a frustrated huff. “Ah, we were just having fun. I’ll just—” you point towards where Law went, “head back so we can...” you absentmindedly trail off, and then you attempt to get up from Luffy’s lap. Keyword: attempt. Because Luffy grips your legs so you couldn’t leave.

You furrow your brows at his actions. Just as you are to ask him why he’s keeping you there, he asks, “Why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

You swear your brain short circuited the moment his question left his lips. If you’re sober, you’re certain you would’ve taken his question innocently. But with the alcohol fogging up your mind, you aren’t sure if he’s just sulking because he wants you to party with him or if he’s inviting you to continue what you’ve been doing a while ago but with him instead of Law. And so, you want to clarify what he means. “What?”

Luffy giggles at your dumbfounded expression. He thought you didn’t hear him from the noise everyone is making, so he leans in, his lips almost touching your ear as he unconsciously rubs your thighs while saying, “I said, why don’t you want to have fun with me?”

And then he pulls away, waiting for your answer.

It isn’t easy to fluster you, but with Luffy’s proximity, the way his hands are moving, and the fact that you’re still aroused after the interrupted makeout session, you find yourself being affected by his question and it’s underlying meaning.

“I, uhm, I-I…” you stutter, unable to look at him in the eyes. You attempt to look elsewhere but suddenly your eyes land on his lips.

You’ve heard of people before who talked about how Luffy has his way of drawing people in and making them his allies. Right now that’s exactly what he’s doing with you, drawing you in — except, he’s doing it quite literally.

Before you know it, you’re leaning into him, and then your lips are on his. He smiles into the kiss before pulling you impossibly closer.

Luffy’s kisses are rather messy and uncoordinated, but it quickly makes you feel lightheaded and excited.

You’re so caught up with the moment to the point that it didn’t occur to you that you have instinctively started grinding on him. You’re only made aware of your actions when you hear Luffy groaning in pleasure. And that’s when you start wanting more, but you’re both still on the deck and there are still drunk people around, even if you both aren’t near them.

Luffy tries to follow your lips when you pull away. And then he pouts when your lips are out of reach. He whines your name, obviously wanting to continue.

“Luffy, I… we should… uhm…” you clear your throat. “I want you,” you whisper.

But Luffy isn’t even listening. His focus is solely on your lips and when you bite your lip nervously, he almost shivers in anticipation.

You take this opportunity to drag him into his room. Thankfully, he doesn’t object nor ask any questions, he just follows your lead. And when you’ve entered his room, you immediately lock the door and start kissing him once again.

You gently nudge Luffy to his bed, not even daring to break the kiss in the process. For some reason, the kiss turns rougher than before, almost feral.

When Luffy reaches the bed and sits down on it, you immediately climb on his lap. You grab a hold of his calloused hands and guide them under your tank top, towards your breasts. He kneads them instantly and you let out a whimper.

Luffy pulls away from the kiss. He removes his hands from under your tank top, and then the next thing you know, he’s tearing up the offensive garment. You haven’t even asked why he did that but he explains already, “It was in the way! I want to feel you better.”

If that’s the case, you unhook your bra and throw it somewhere in the room before he’d even think about ripping it off as well.

Luffy takes a moment to stare at your half naked form. With the way your boobs are slightly moving with every breath you take, he easily finds himself in a trance.

You snap him out of it by grinding on his bulge. You pull him in again for a kiss and he instantly cups your breasts with his hands again. He kneads your boobs and pinches your nipples, and you let out soft mewls in satisfaction.

You bite his lip and he lets out a sexy grunt. You palm his hardened cock and it instantly makes him breathless. He calls your name with a quiver in his voice.

You grab one of his hands and bring it under your skirt, inside your panties and urge him to touch your cunt. “You’re wet,” he breathlessly comments.

You slip one of his fingers into you, guiding him in and out. When he’s found his rhythm, you let go of his hand and let him do as he pleases. He adds another finger soon enough. The sensation elicits a moan from you.

“Do that again,” Luffy says. “Do that sound again.”

You oblige, resting your head on his shoulder as you moan at his ministrations.

You use this time to unzip his pants and tug his cock from the garments. When you start pumping him, he lets out a lewd groan and temporarily stops his fingers from moving. This goes on for a while and when Luffy starts moving his hips with the motion of your hands, you stop.

You pull away completely from him. And then you start stripping him off of his clothes until Luffy’s naked. You watch as he licks his fingers clean from the wetness of your cunt and he hums in appreciation. When he’s done, you take off your remaining clothes as well.

You grab a hold of his dick once again and kiss him on the lips. Your hand movements are slow as you switch from kissing his lips to his neck. You leave a couple of hickeys on him. Then you slowly make your way down, kissing, sucking, licking, biting his chest, his abs, until you’re on your knees, face directly in front of his dick.

He watches you with half lidded eyes, a look that you’ve never seen before on him. You look directly at him as you make kitten licks on his cock. You watch as he visibly gulps. And then you take him in your mouth and start sucking him off. Luffy pants and grunts at your ministrations. You then grabbed his balls and massaged them.

“That feels so good,” he moans.

Luffy uncontrollably juts his hips, wanting more of the pleasurable sensation you’re making him feel. And you let him.

But when you feel his cock twitching, you pull away.

Luffy whines loudly, but you push him so that he’s laying on the bed. You climb atop him, grab his shaft and coat it with your wetness. And then you slowly sink down until he’s fully inside you.

“T-tight…” Luffy mutters, “you’re so tight.”

You wait until you’ve fully adjusted to his size before you start moving. Luffy stares at you in desire as you move on top of him, your tits bouncing with every motion. He watches your face with fascination as he’s never seen your face contort with pleasure like this before. And for some reason, this makes him harder.

Then his body moves on his own, too lost in lust, his hands start squeezing your breasts, his hips start thrusting into you.

When he notices you tiring down, he easily flips the position so that you’re under him. All that’s going through his head is how good you make him feel.

“Luffy… fuck… so good…” you moan out loudly, unable to even make a proper sentence.

He snaps his hips faster and rougher as time progresses. He’s pounding into you so hard that the bed starts creaking and the headboard slams against the walls.

But those sounds are nothing compared to the noises the both of you are making. You have resorted to repeating his name like a mantra along with profanities here and there, while Luffy grunts and moans to your ears, sometimes telling you how amazing you feel.

All too soon, you’re clenching against him so tightly as you climaxed. This brings out a more brutal pace from Luffy as he starts chasing his own high. And when he releases his load in you, you almost shudder at the feeling.

When Luffy pulls out, he notices your juices leaking out of you. And before you can even comprehend what he’s planning, he starts licking.

Your breath hitches from the stimulation, but Luffy doesn’t stop until you’re completely clean.

And when he’s done, he’s grinning widely at you.

“Luffy, that’s…” you start to say, but you didn’t know what word or words you’re supposed to use. Hot? Sexy? Best fuck you’ve had in a while?

Before you can even come up with what to say however, Luffy tells you, “That was fun! We should do that again!”

#one piece scenario #one piece imagines #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #monkey d. luffy x reader #one piece scenarios #one piece luffy #one piece lemon #one piece smut #luffy lemon #monkey d. luffy #monkey d luffy #one piece imagine #op luffy #luffy smut #straw hat luffy #mugiwara no luffy

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animeomegas · 3 years ago

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Omega!BNHA - dying from a broken heart

Anon: I don't know if you do, but some aus say that a person can't sruvive after their mate dies, like they die from a broken heart. Do you have that in yours, can you write who would be most likely to die mayeb please xx

(Here is the BNHA version, I hope you enjoy! <3)

Warnings: Copious grief, allusions to suicide and suicidal behaviour

LEAST

1. Midoriya Izuku – ALIVE – He is heartbroken. He cries everyday for a solid month, relying on his friends and mother to look after him. Everyone is very patient with him but that just adds guilt to Midoriya’s already fragile mental state. In the end, he decides to make sure that whatever happened to his alpha doesn’t happen to anyone else, as much as he can. He will run fundraisers for medical research, or use his platform to raise awareness for something, whatever he feels he needs to do. He keeps something of his alpha’s on him at all time and he uses them to motivate him to save civilians, after all, that person is worth just as much to someone else as you were to him. I think that Midoriya would be likely to mate again, he’s got a lot of love to give and thrives in romantic relationships, but he will never forget the person who had such a big part in shaping who he is today.

2. Bakugou Katsuki – ALIVE – He is predictably angry at first, shouting profanities at anyone who tries to comfort him, but then he just feels lost. He takes it hard, as anyone would, pushing people away for months, and working himself down to the bone. But, at one point, he decides to dedicate his hero career to his alpha’s memory, and it makes him try harder than he’s ever tried. Soon, it becomes something positive for him, he looks after himself more and strives to better himself in healthy ways. He might mate again, although he feels doubtful that anyone could ever match him like his alpha could. If he did mate again, he would never forget his first alpha. He visits their grave on their birthday every year, and if any person courting him had a problem with that, he would drop them immediately.

3. Aizawa Shouta – ALIVE – He doesn’t stop to grieve for even a moment. He pushes on, denying himself a break, ignoring condolences, cutting off anyone who tries to inquire as to how he’s doing. He’s very harsh with any students who try to bring it up. And then his friends confront him. He’s exhausted (more so than normal) and he’s not eating so they make him sit down with them. Mic and Midnight know him better than anyone, and they easily push past his defences, and he cries until he passes out. They help him go through your stuff and get enough sleep. They cook for him and cover classes for him, so he has time to mourn. His life eventually goes back to normal, but I don’t think he would ever mate again. Once was enough for him.

4. Todoroki Shouto – ALIVE – He becomes bitter and jaded, but he does not die, he carries on in the way he always has. He takes almost no time off of work, completing his job as a hero with ruthless efficiency, following the required steps like a robot. Constantly working helps keep his mind off of the fact that his mate is no longer waiting for him to come home. Eventually, one of his friends, probably Midoriya, step up and get him a specialist therapist and help him pick out a new home so he’s not constantly reminded of his mate. He learns to cope in the end, but it takes him a very long time to mate again, if he ever does.

5. Tamaki Amajiki– ALIVE (just about) – He is completely distraught and destroyed in every way. His alpha was a part of him, and now they’re dead, he feels like he has this huge hole in his chest that can never be healed. Everything becomes too difficult for him, the only reason he gets out of bed if because it’s more painful to stay in the bed he shared with you. Mirio is the only reason Tamaki is still alive after his mate dies. He moves in with Mirio who looks after him 24/7 for almost six months, until Tamaki starts to do things for himself. It takes about a year for Tamaki to go back to work and I think it would be very hard for him to move on to another mate. Not only is he still cripplingly shy, but he also now has severe anxieties that the people he gets close to will die and is averse to making any new relationships.

6. Shinsou Hitoshi – DEAD/ALIVE – Shinsou is one of the most loyal people ever. If you manage to break down his walls, he gets very attached, his alpha being the best example of that. He was so attached to the future he was going to have with his alpha that now he doesn’t know what to do. He feels like everything has been taken away from him. His life was finally something he enjoyed and then this happens? His life really is one tragedy after another. He does give up wanting to be alive, but he could survive if someone intervened to help him. He would need someone to supervise him and help him cope with the death of his mate. If he doesn’t get that, he won’t survive for very long.

7. Shigaraki Tomura– DEAD (kind of) – Your death shatters what’s left of his mental health. It twists him and breaks him more and more for every night he lies awake in an empty bed. He does not die straight away. He takes his grief out on everyone else first. He kills random people in the streets sometimes, just to try and make himself feel anything other than despair. The final straw is when, in a fit of rage, he decays most of your things. When he realises what he’s done, when he realises that he’s destroyed the only ties he had left to you, the only things that still smelt like you, he gives up. There’s no point anymore. He spends the whole night drinking. He goes to sleep knowing he won’t wake up, and the smile on his face is the first genuine one he’s had since you died.

8. Dabi – DEAD (kind of) – He doesn’t die from a broken heart exactly. He dies because your death makes him reckless. Why should he care if he lives or dies anymore? There’s no one waiting for him. Not anymore. He gets angry when you die and takes it out on as many heroes as he can. He blames heroes for your death, no matter how involved they were. It’s their job to save people, and they couldn’t be bothered to save the one person in this world that actually means something to him. He either dies confronting a random hero, or he decides he wants to die and confronts Endeavour first. He has nothing to lose, so why not?

9. (Hawks) Keigo Takami – DEAD – He has this façade as a laidback, suave playboy. But at the end of the day, that’s all it is, a façade, an act. In reality, his life is the opposite of laidback. Everything is controlled by the commission. He eats what they say, wears what they say, buys what they say, says what he’s told to say. So, when he found you, it was like this glass bubble he’d been living in shattered. For the first time, you made him care. He cared about himself, his house, his health, but most importantly, you made him care about you, and about your future together. Nothing is as precious to him as you. So, when you die, all he sees is the prison coming back to catch him again. He sees nothing but misery in his future now. Lonely, miserable emptiness. You made him realise how unhappy he was, and then changed that for him. He won’t go back to the way it was. No way.

MOST

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adrenaline-whump · 3 years ago

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Febuwhump #7: Used as an experiment

Context: Cadeverse, the morning after Cade tried to treat a panic attack with copious amounts of alcohol

~~~

Cade blinked open bleary eyes, flinched away from the sun shining in through Donnie’s living room window, and shrank back into the couch, pulling the thin blanket over his head. “Ow.”

“I’d say good morning, but it doesn’t look like one for you,” Donnie said genially from the doorway. “How do you feel?”

A pained, profane grumble came from under the blanket.

“About what I expected. Be right back.”

Donnie rummaged around in his kitchen for a few moments and then returned. “Disentangle yourself, dude, I have breakfast.”

The blanket cringed. “Eurgh. That’s the absolute last thing I want right now.”

“That’s why today’s breakfast is water. You won’t feel any better until you rehydrate. Up and at ‘em, sport.”

Reluctantly, the blanket folded back. Cade sat up and put his head in his hands, pressing his thumbs into his temples. “Ow. Ow ow ow.”

Donnie proffered a filled glass. “Come on, drink up, whiny-ass.”

“No sympathy, huh?” Cade eyed the cloudy liquid doubtfully as he took it. “What’s in this?”

“Electrolytes. And no, no sympathy,” Donnie grinned. “You completely did this to yourself with your so-called science.”

Cade took a sip of the fortified water. “I should’ve remembered...I never got good grades in science.”

“Obviously, since you didn’t learn Rule #1: don’t use yourself as a test subject, dumbass.”

“Nobody else volunteered.” Cade stared at the glass for another moment, then raised bloodshot eyes to meet Donnie’s. “Thank you.”

“For calling you a dumbass? Happy to do that anytime you need it, bud.”

A tired smile crossed Cade’s face. “Pretty much constantly. But I meant for the water.”

Donnie shrugged amiably. “Anytime.”

#febuwhump2022 #febuwhumpday7 #used as an experiment #cadeverse #cade #donnie #headache #nausea

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jjinnies · 3 years ago

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silk sheets — min yoongi (full book) | CHAPTER ONE: INTRODUCTIONS.

Warnings ─ profanity, mild references to sex.

previous chapter — next chapter

The woman was absolutely knackered.

Whatever composure she had tried to maintain for the whole day at the office was soon shattered once she had walked through the wooden door of her self-made, two-bedroom apartment.

Just seeing her beloved haven of comfort almost made her drop to the floor like a dead fly.

Her work day had been anything but relaxing.

In fact, looking around at her somewhat organised home had already lightened her mood a little as her eyes glanced over to observe the time. It was only 5:30 p.m., and yet, that seemed to stand as an indication of her having an hour to herself before she would get up again to order some take-out for dinner.

As she trudged away from the front door of her now closed apartment, her fingers found purchase in her sleek black ponytail, causing it to ruin soon after as she tugged the hair tie away from her. The formal business pin-striped suit that she wore was constricting, so she now removed her perfectly-fitted coat to swap her clothes out for an embarrassingly pink set of pyjamas.

Of course, no one from work had ever seen Jiha like this, fuzzy socks and all.

And who could blame the woman? Her position as senior manager of the Park Enterprises had physically forced her to behave in a manner considered nothing less than strictly professional. After all, she was one of the main representatives of the large company - tarnishing their reputation would result in her immediate termination and denial of all office privileges.

And that was something no sane person would ever wish to lose.

─

A full day at home left the man's back feeling sore and broken, his nap being interrupted as soon as his best friend of four years had walked through the door of his stale apartment. The scent of cigarette smoke combined with the odd whiff of sweat fumed the air as Jimin and Jungkook explored the depths of darkness their home-bound friend had inhabited.

"Yoongi, how many times have I told you to stop eating cheap ramen all day?" Jimin exclaimed in disgust, his position as a CEO literally gleaming in the older male's face as his elegant 'Park Enterprises' badge reflected the only visible streak of light entering the room.

Throwing the half-dozen cups of instant noodles away in the barely used trash-can, the accompanying man in the room - who was also a close friend of Yoongi's - scoffed.

"You seriously need to get a job," Jungkook muttered under his breath, now fully focused on the way Yoongi laid on his old couch carelessly as his two friends cleaned up after him.

Jimin only nodded in agreement, his hand now desperately moving to protect his nose with a handkerchief as Jungkook found himself dropping a wet pair of black, lacy panties onto the floor once trying to collect all of the older male's clothes in a makeshift laundry basket.

Needless to say, Yoongi never did his own laundry.

"Another woman? Really, Yoongi? What happened to Jessica?" Jungkook stated, now rubbing his fingers against his thigh to rid himself of what he presumed not to be water as his eyebrows furrowed into a knot of exasperation.

Jimin only sighed, giving Yoongi a knowing glare as he shook his head in disbelief: of course, he had only wanted her as a temporary fix.

"She started getting too clingy. Asked me to meet her brother and parents after three weeks of dating. Ended up sobbing when I told her commitment wasn't really my thing," the male laying down mumbled, now closing his eyes and chuckling softly as Jungkook threw a shirt that wasn't doused in copious scents inexpensive cologne to Yoongi's face.

Even cockroaches lived in Yoongi's apartment for longer than women did.

"Put a shirt on, Min. You need to learn how to take care of yourself and not mooch off of Jimin's earnings. How do you expect to settle down when you're a literal slob?" Jungkook angrily questioned. His hand wrapped around his boss and close friend, Jimin's wrist, as he stopped said male from cleaning any further.

"Who said I was looking to ruin my life by getting married?" Yoongi questioned, his own anger building up as a defence-mechanism. But Jimin only opened the dark curtains of the living room, allowing some light and fresh air to touch the dusty surfaces of his lethargic friend's apartment.

"Oh, grow up, would you?" Jungkook questioned, now squinting his eyes in frustration as the full force of the afternoon glow itself forced all men in the room to avert their eyes. "Quarter past eleven tomorrow, Yoongi - I've organised a booking for your interview with Jimin and I to be conducted tomorrow at the office. If you're going to rely on your friend for your luxurious lifestyle, you may as well start repaying him now with some effort," the hot-headed man lectured, his body now moving to pull Yoongi up off the couch once he had begrudgingly put his shirt on.

"I have to work now?" the oldest friend in the room groaning as he stared at his friend Jimin's sympathetic expression in disdain.

"With 100% effort," Jungkook answered, rubbing salt in the wounds as he scoffed and pushed past the two males to get out of the expensive but uncared-for apartment as Jimin followed.

Yoongi only stood on his two feet stubbornly, watching Jungkook run his fingers through his soft hair and smirking evilly in accomplishment. How he wished to strangle the bunny-looking beast at this very moment. That perfect, bunny-toothed, sharp-jawed, muscular little-

His thoughts were soon grounded back to reality as Jimin shook his shoulder carefully to rid him of his daze.

"Jungkook and I were going to go out to grab a bite to eat together - would you like to join us, hyung? It's on me," Jimin kindly offered, his hand still remaining on the older man's shoulder as he quirked an eyebrow upwards in confusion to Yoongi's spaced-out behaviour.

Yoongi, however, only smiled, giving his famous lopsided grin to Jungkook before sending a genuine, gummy smile his shorter friend's way.

"Only if your protective boyfriend Jungkook doesn't force me to sit through too much of your PDA," Yoongi smartly remarked, fondly ruffling Jimin's newly dyed hair as he sent a shit-eating grin to a petty-looking Jeon.

And god, would dinner be memorable.

#yoongi #yoongi x reader #bts #bangtan #romance #comedy #jungkook #jimin #fanfic #smut #book

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plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms · 4 years ago

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There’s More Than One Way To Start An Apocalypse (12)

Summary: The Infinity War had happened and Thanos had won. 5 years later the Avengers try one last crazy idea to save everyone they lost, but a mysterious woman with a Supernatural background from Natasha’s past drops in unexpectedly derailing their plans. They soon find out that Thanos was now not the apocalypse they needed to stop.

Fandoms: Avengers, Supernatural

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader (previous), Natasha Romanoff x Reader (previous)

Warnings: Angst, The Damn Snap, mentions of depression and self-loathing, excessive and sometimes unnecessary violence, gore, mentions of death, copious amounts of blood, some profanity as per usual, mentions of past trauma, idiotic decision making, major character death/s, an obscene amount of fluff

A/N: Okay so I wanted to give us all some fluff after the trauma that was the previous chapter. I hope you forgive me. Enjoy! Masterlist is pinned post, my lovelies. Feedback is encouraged in this house. :)

Masterlist

12: A New Lease in Life

"Welcome to Wakanda," Steve said near your ear as you stared wide eyed out the window. You could hear the pride and the smile in his voice. There was a warmth in his tone that told you that this was a special place.

He had spent almost the entire ride here telling you all about this kingdom and its people while Bruce piloted the jet. He told you how majestic the nature is and how advanced the technology has become even surpassing that of Tony's in some aspects. He told you how Shuri helped Bucky heal from the damage HYDRA had done. He told you how when they were on the run and the world had turned their back on them because of the accords that they were offered asylum here.

He could not speak highly enough of their King T'Challa. He spoke of the power and the skill he had as the Black Panther. He mentioned how he was a benevolent ruler of his people, but more than that he was an incredible human being. He was generous, forgiving, wise, brave, and a dependable friend.

You thought for sure that he was exaggerating everything, but as you looked out the jet's window at the aerial view you decided that Steve might have even downplayed it. Wakanda was absolutely breathtaking and its people were even more of a sight.

The King and his court greeted your group as you came down the ramp. You had been in the presence of royalty countless times, a few times you were sent to assassinate them, but you had never felt intimidated in their presence.

Now as Steve and T'Challa greet each other like old friends and you see the comfortable familiarity in their eyes, you find yourself in awe of the king.

"Hello, Sera. I am happy to welcome you to Wakanda," he said in his rich accent, his smile bright on his face.

"Hello, your majesty. Thank you for inviting us." You gave a small respectful nod as you shook his hand. He covered your clasped hands with his other and his smile grew making the corners crinkle.

"Please, T'Challa will do. We owe you a debt we can only hope to be able to repay someday. You will always be welcomed in Wakanda," he said genuinely.

You flashed Steve a slight frown because apparently he had briefed your hosts and judging by the gratitude on their faces the Captain may have built you up quite a bit. He looked down at his shoes and rubbed his neck nervously. You tutted at him, amused by how young and boyish he suddenly looked with that gesture.

"Thank you again for your hospitality and for offering your assistance. I was told that you had a possible solution for my problem?" you said. There was just something calming about T'Challa's presence, you thought as your heart rate steadied under his kind gaze.

"Yes, my sister eagerly awaits you in her lab. Please forgive her if she seems over excited as she has never had the opportunity of studying a person of your lineage."

You beamed at the king. Your heart was suddenly warm from the way he described you with such respect. You had been referred to as a creature, a myth, an abomination, a weapon, and many more less than flattering terms. Never have you ever been referred to as a person, an unusual kind of person, but a person nonetheless.

"Lead the way, T'Challa."

Steve found it endearing how your eyes sparkled as you took everything in while you made your way to the laboratory. He could see the appreciation in the way your mouth went back and forth between open mouthed awe and blindingly happy smiles. You were going to give yourself a neck pain with the way you were craning your neck and whipping your head around to observe as much as you can. He found himself smiling. You were cute.

"Finally!" an excited female voice said with the same smooth accent as the king. It broke you away from your energetic sightseeing. "I'm Shuri. I'm thrilled that you have come!"

Shuri had the type of energy that was just as affecting as her brother's calmness. She was gorgeous; intricate tight braids, paint on her face emphasizing her sharp bone structure, and the way she carried herself was youthful yet unmistakably royal. Not much introductions were made as she eagerly pulled you by the hand toward a long table with lines running all through out it.

"Come, Sera. Lay down right here," she said patting the table and making her way to the consoles. Bruce followed to stand beside her, setting his equipment down by his feet.

You shrugged and complied without complaint, the glee on her face made you nervous, but the fact that Steve moved to stand beside you with a reassuring smile gave you confidence. You took a deep breath and lied down. The sudden lights from the table as it activated made you jump. Steve grabbed your hand and gently drew circles on the back to calm you down. You smiled at him as your breathing settled once more.

"This is incredible," Shuri muttered after a few minutes as she leaned over the table and read through the scans. She turned to you, her eyes dancing with the joy of discovery. "You are incredible!"

"Do you have enough data?" Bruce asked, his finger swiping at the screen.

"Yes! I will have to do a few more analyses and run some tests, but the blood work you brought should help with that," she nodded rapidly. "Bruce and I should be able to finish up. Captain, why don't you show Sera around? Please, take some time to enjoy my country while you are here."

Your eyes pleaded with Steve to agree. You knew this was technically a part of the mission, but you could not pass up the offer to go exploring. Steve saw the look on your face and the pout you were fighting. He discovered at that moment that he could not say no to that face.

"Sure. Can we swing by the kitchens to grab lunch?" Steve said, not fighting the smile on his face when you looked like you were going to explode confetti and happiness.

"I'll call ahead for you and take these Kimoyo Beads. We'll call when we're finished. Have fun!"

Steve caught the beads that Shuri tossed him and led you out the lab. You were skipping happily behind him, mouthing a silent thanks to the princess.

"You know it won't take long for us to run the analysis," Bruce murmured from beside a smug looking Shuri.

"You know I cannot help myself, Bruce. Don't tell me you do not see it," she giggled.

"I think they're the only ones who don't see it yet," he agreed.

Steve held a picnic basket in one hand while the other pointed to random things you passed as you made the trek toward what he said was his favorite spot. He was patient in answering your questions and in telling you in more detail about his past experiences with this country.

You enjoyed listening to not just his stories, but also to the low tenor of his voice. It made you happy seeing him so animated, so different from the version you saw in their supposed future. This Steve had a spark for life in him and you had to admit you were a little proud that you helped put it there.

"Wow."

It was all you could say as Steve pulled you through thick clusters of towering trees to emerge into an enclosed meadow that you could only describe as magical. The brown and green grass at your feet begged for you to take off your boots with each step you took on the soft ground. Multiple waterfalls off a low cliff face fed fresh cool water down to a small lake glistening like a clear blue crystal with the sunlight.

"You like it?" Steve asked, nervously chewing on his bottom lip. For some reason he wanted you to like it. "I like coming here to just get away for a bit. Shut out the noise for a little while."

"I didn't think this country could get any more beautiful," you softly said before turning to smile brightly at him. "Thank you for sharing this with me, Steve. It's perfect."

The Captain beamed at you, relieved at your approval. He didn't think twice about taking your hand in his free one and pulling you nearer to the water. You smiled shyly at your joined hands, liking how warm and large his hand felt over yours. You were almost sad that he had to let go to set down the basket and lay out the blanket for you both to have your lunch on.

Steve found some joy in unraveling each food package and watching you discover the unfamiliar flavors of the local cuisine. You were a little too eager in stuffing everything in your mouth making you almost choke at one point. He was quick to open a drink and hand it to you. He gave you a concerned frown while he stroked your back as you worked on clearing your windpipe. You noticed that he was finding ways to touch you and you weren't exactly complaining.

You spent a while just chatting about light topics as you both ate your fill. Steve was very interested in hearing more about the supernatural and you enjoyed hearing about his youth. He laughed at a few of your stories of your earlier failed hunts particularly about the time you were chased by a bunch of pissed off possessed teddy bears. Your face was going to hurt from all of the smiling, but you couldn't help it especially when Steve would laugh a full belly laugh and clutched at his chest. It might just become your favorite sound.

"I owe you an apology."

You raised your eyebrow at him while you popped more fruit in your mouth. He looked at ease fully stretched out and leaning his head on his hand as he stared up at you.

"You owe me nothing, Steve," you shook your head.

"I do," he pulled himself up to sit and rest his arms on his knees. "I was really suspicious of you in the beginning. I wasn't as welcoming as the rest."

"Has this been bothering you?" you laughed loudly as he looked sheepishly at you. "Steve, I literally materialized out of thin air in the arms of some unknown man drenched in my own blood and unconscious. Of course you were suspicious!"

"Yeah, but I was still suspicious even after Nat vouched for you."

You shook your head at him again. It was his job to be suspicious as their Captain. It was his job to look out for the team. "Are you still suspicious of me now?"

Steve looked at you for a long time, his baby blue eyes seemed to want to tell you more than what his lips allowed. "No."

"Good," you smiled. Truthfully, you didn't know it mattered that much that Steve in particular trusted you. "I would expect that saving you from living a life of demon possession earns me a reward or some goddamn points at least."

Steve was blinding you with his smile again. He was suddenly up on his feet and hurriedly pulling off his jacket and shirt. He discarded them haphazardly onto the blanket before working on his pants.

"Oh hey hold on, Cap! I wasn't talking about that kind of reward." The heat on your face and neck betrayed your sarcastic teasing tone.

You expected Steve to be uncomfortable with your comment or at the very least feel awkward. To your surprise he flashed you a wicked smirk and a wink as he freed himself from his pants and shoes. Captain America wore black boxer briefs. Noted with thanks, you thought.

"Not this time, doll."

Playful Steve Rogers was going to be the death of you. You watched mesmerized by this perfect specimen of a man as he ran toward the water and dived right in. He emerged further into the deep end shaking the water from his hair and grinning madly at you.

"Come on!"

Who could resist an invitation like that? You quickly stripped down to your underwear and made a running start before diving in. You took your time underneath to marvel at the beauty in the waters that rivaled even that of the surface. This country truly was unbelievably beautiful.

You came up near where you guessed Steve would be, but you were surprised to see that he was gone. You spun around in search for him, but he was no where to be found. Suddenly you were pulled down deep and the panic began to bubble in your chest until you were met with a cocky smile. Your body automatically relaxed and you hit his solid chest.

He grabbed you by the waist and propelled you up to the surface, his longish blonde hair swirling in a sort of halo around his handsome features. You gasped for air and punched his chest again, but this time you let your hand linger there.

"I almost snapped your neck on instinct, you idiot," you laughed.

You noticed that Steve has not removed his grip around your bare waist and instead seemed to be pulling you closer to him. From this close you could feel his breath on your face and see clearly how blue his eyes were, so blue that it could rival the very lake you were swimming in. You could see the smile he had been wearing the whole afternoon, content with a hint of mischief.

Steve was bewildered at first that he felt this comfortable around you. After all that he has been through, he was slow in opening up to people and he was jaded from all the loss he suffered. But he made a conscious decision right before you boarded the jet for Wakanda to just give in to the strange pull he felt for you since the day you arrived. Having the Snap reversed prompted him to re-evaluate how he wanted to live the rest of his unnaturally long life and he decided that he needed to stop overthinking everything. The more he got to know you, the stronger the pull became and he was surprised again to find that this did not bother him like it usually would.

At this moment, he felt the pull again as he held you tighter until you were flush against his body. He relished the feeling of your skin against his as he used his other hand to cup your face. He searched your eyes for any sign of resistance. His actions may be bold right now, but he was still every bit the 40s gentleman. When he saw nothing except nervous anticipation, he tightened his grip on your hip and drew his face slowly closer to yours.

You were an inch away from each other's lips when the beads worn on Steve's wrist buzzed and chimed urgently by your ear. The moment ruined, he squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead to yours as the beads continued to sound.

"Fuck," he mumbled, his breath pleasantly hot on your face.

"Language," you scolded him lightly as you fought to steady the rapid fluttering of your heart. Steve pretended to frown in disapproval at your comment, but the small lift in the corner of his lips told you otherwise. He was never going to live that down and apparently you were now in on it too.

"Nat tell you?"

"Tony actually," you chuckled as he groaned. You cocked your head toward the bracelet that was insistently ringing. "Better take that."

It took you and Steve only 15 minutes to get dressed, pack up, and get back to the laboratory. You both carefully avoided the happy questioning gazes of the two scientists. You knew what you both looked like; still wet from the swim, flushed faces, sun kissed skin, dopey smiles, and standing very close to each other.

"What did you find?" Steve asked attempting to steer the conversation away from your still very new closeness.

Shuri rolled her eyes and began to explain the analysis they worked on. You tried hard to focus on her words, but it was getting more and more difficult to focus. Perhaps you had too much sun exposure, but you suddenly found your sight go blurry and your limbs give out. The sound around you muffled as you hit the ground, barely registering Steve's arms around you.

"Steve, we need to get her to the tree!" Shuri shouted urgently.

Steve tried hard not to focus on the fact that he could neither feel nor hear your heartbeat anymore. He couldn't see the rise and fall of your chest or the warm breath from your lips. You can't be dead. He held you tighter to his chest and pushed down the fear as he focused all his attention on running at full speed behind Shuri.

Shuri tried to catch her breath as they reached a wide dry field with a large tree in the middle. This tree stood tall and proud teeming with lush green and white leaves as well as a unique display of silver and blue flowers. It was strange that amidst the obviously barren area was this tree that literally glowed with life.

"Lay her down right by the roots, Captain."

Steve followed her instructions and swallowed the pain he felt at your lifeless figure. "Is she - ?" he was almost too afraid to ask.

"Not if we can help it," she said intentionally adding confidence in her voice for Steve's benefit. She pulled out from her robes what Steve recognized was an angel blade. Shuri muttered a small prayer under her breath.

"Please let this work."

Shuri held the blade high above her head before bringing it down forcefully on the bark of the tree near your head. She made a long wide gash with the blade before stepping back to stand beside Steve who was now pulling his hair and pacing in his panic.

For a while nothing happened and the panic started to overwhelm Steve, but then a blinding white blue light shone through the gash Shuri made making them step back. This light formed thick wisps of smoke and crawled toward your unconscious form. It fused with wherever it touched; through your mouth, in your ears, or on your skin.

Steve's eyes widened as he realized what the light was having spent the past couple of weeks with you, Castiel and Jack. Hope bloomed in his chest as your still motionless body absorbed more of the light. This was a tree made of grace.

Shuri was relieved to see that her theory seemed to hold true, that your kind would be able to harness the energy of this tree. She was disappointed to see the flowers and leaves slowly wilting and crumbling to the ground as you took more, but saving your life would be worth it. She just hoped that it would be enough.

The stream of grace soon fizzled out and yet you still didn't move. Steve rushed to kneel by your side with Shuri following. He held your face in both his hands and tried to will you to wake up. He still couldn't feel your heartbeat.

"Sera, please wake up," he pleaded with you. "Please wake up, doll. Come on."

Just as Steve was about to give in to his grief of yet another loss for him, a small inconsistent thump caught his sensitive hearing. He stilled as he tried to listen for it. He looked at you in disbelief when the slight thumping gradually became stronger until it stabilized to a healthy beat.

Your eyes fluttered open and the first thing you saw was Steve's worried blue eyes. You smiled at the sight. You faintly heard Shuri choke back a cry of relief as she plopped herself on the ground. The adrenaline of saving you from death quickly receding and the exhaustion replacing it.

Steve gently stroked your hair away from your face. He was partly afraid that he might break you or that he was just imagining that you were back.

"How are you feeling?" he asked quietly as he helped you sit up.

You stroked your hands, noticing that there was a certain electricity on your skin as if there was power underneath just fighting to be unleashed. You felt vastly different from when you had lost all your grace, but this was also a different feeling from when you did have your power. One thing was for sure, you were ready to face Michael.

"I feel like me again," you informed him happily.

Steve saw your eyes flash a hypnotizing mixture of gold and white silver. Despite the limited knowledge he had, he knew that was not normal for nephilim. There was something different about the grace in that tree.

He would deal with that later. For now, he couldn't find it in himself to care too much as he crushed you to his chest and kissed the top of your head. For now, he was just relieved you were alive.

Miles away back at the Bunker, green eyes flew open and her spine snapped straight up to sit as she took several loud heaving breaths. The familiar red lips and redder hair of Rowena greeted her.

"Welcome back, Natalia my dear."

Masterlist

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juniorgman187 · 4 years ago

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Serpent of Eden (Reid Series - Part 3)

~ Reader’s one-night-stand with Spencer turns into a year long semester ~

Summary: After a month of smooth sailing, Reader and Spencer finally cross paths on campus and spoiler alert - it’s not pretty. Couple: Fem!Reader x Professor Spencer Reid Category: Angst, Fluff, (eventual) Smut, Series Word Count: 1.7 (ik i promised no small chapters but this ones slightly more spicy and its in preparation for better, longer chapters) Content Warning: Age-gap, teacher student relationship A/N: POV switches from Reader to Spencer indicated by “_ _ _”

PART 2 HERE!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It was easy to maintain a romantic relationship and to believe that everything was alright when we never had to see each other at school.

What’s harder was being in a professional setting and forcing ourselves to confront the reality that what we were doing was wrong.

Just plain wrong.

We must’ve lucked out in the first few weeks of our relationship because it was smooth sailing for the entire first month. We’d even gotten into a routine - found our groove, if you will.

Most often, we would meet at a place far from Hollis, where we knew we wouldn’t run into anyone who would recognize us. There we could just be (y/n) and Spencer; and there I would get lost in the good times and the bliss of the moment to the point of forgetting that we weren’t just (y/n) and Spencer - we were student and teacher, too. Other times, I’d come over to his apartment, but given my living situation, he had never come over to mine.

It was somewhere around our one-month anniversary when our luck ran out.

Holly had come into the room while I was finishing (or at least attempting to finish) reading a court case.

“Are you going to the Promotional FBI Seminar?” She slid a large pamphlet on my desk, never minding the fact that she’d just haphazardly thrown the pamphlet in the spot where my book lied, causing me to lose my place on the page. Though I didn’t outwardly display my frustration, my agitation did grow beneath the surface.

“What’s that?” I asked her, not out of sincere curiosity, but more so because I wasn’t even really listening to what she’d said before, and I’d pushed the pamphlet out of the way before I even read it.

“A couple guys from the FBI are coming to talk to us about the job, like all the requirements to be hired, how much it pays - stuff like that.”

Holly’s voice didn’t make for great background noise, especially when she started rambling while I tried to continue reading.

“Are you going?” I asked. Again, this wasn’t a sincere question, just a way to make it seem like I was listening.

“Yeah, and I really want you to come with me. I think you’d like it. You’re really into crime stuff, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, yeah…” I said in a daze, obviously distracted by my other priorities.

“So you’ll come?”

I should note that I faintly recognized the name and premise of the seminar, but I couldn’t quite place where I remembered it from, and I was far too preoccupied to pay any further attention to the topic, so it slipped out of my mind almost as fast as it entered it.

It was this moment here where Spencer’s eidetic memory would’ve come in handy.

You see, the reason I weakly recalled the seminar was because just three days ago, Spencer had told me he was going to be a guest speaker for it. But again - I didn’t remember that, and so without any recollection of this information, I told Holly I’d go just so she’d stop bothering me about it.

Unbeknownst to me, I’d just agreed to attending my own personal hell.

I woke the next morning to Holly violently shaking me.

“(Y/n), we gotta go! We’re so fucking late!”

Still half-asleep, I mumbled, “Huh?”

“The seminar started at 9:42 and it’s 10:36 right now.”

This was enough to jolt me awake and get me out of bed.

There was just something about the pressure of being late that forced me into a mode where I could get ready in an ungodly short amount of time. I could never get ready that fast unless I was late for something, which makes no sense.

Holly and I ran from our dorm, through the courtyard, and into the classroom, somehow managing not to trip once on the way there. I was actually quite proud of that.

I couldn’t tell you if it was our breathlessness, our late departure, our struggle to find open seats, or a combination of the three, but we’d commanded the attention of the entire room - and the attention of someone I had yet to notice, too.

“There’s a free seat over there. I can sit in the one over here.” Holly told me, suggesting that if we wanted to sit anywhere, we’d have to be separated. I followed her finger to the empty seat, shuffling awkwardly and apologizing profusely to the people I disturbed by approaching. I was so caught up in the hysteria and chaos to even bother looking up at the stage, hindering my ability to meet my impending doom any sooner.

On the way to my seat, I noticed the copious amounts of notes being taken by virtually every student in the room, so rather than taking any time to look up, I was searching my bag down below me for note taking materials.

But as they say - third time's a charm.

After I’d settled into my seat, I finally looked up from the floor and it was then that I was transported back to a month ago - an eerie parallel to this exact moment.

“Holy shit,” I muttered, earning sneers from the people sitting next to me who I’d clearly disrupted with my profanity.

“Sorry,” I whispered to them, for I was truly sorry. I just couldn’t help myself. When I saw him, my stomach dropped. I had a feeling he’d already seen me, but I was too disorderly before to notice.

I did, however, notice how he eyed me from the stage, even doing a double take when we locked eyes.

“Most of us have done extensive work in areas such as …” His voice faded while my mind swirled.

We have got to stop meeting like this, Spencer.

Our eye contact was too much for me to handle, so I was the first to break away. Through the entire question-period, I kept my head down to avoid any eye contact I could.

“Well, that’s all that we have for you today. Before you go, please hand in your applications if you filled them out.” The other lecturer advised.

I was well on my way out of the room even before he dismissed us, but I was drawn back by the sound of the sentence, “Excuse me, Miss? Could you stay back for a moment?”

I briefly walked backwards before turning on my heels and meeting those eyes that I desperately didn’t want to.

“I noticed you came in late and I thought you might want to know the information you missed -” Spencer paused to look over his shoulder, noticing his colleague was attending to someone else and therefore, too engaged in that conversation to interfere with ours.

“(Y/n), what are you doing here?” He asked me in a hushed tone, a stark contrast from his sweet tone from before.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer. I completely forgot that you were a speaker for this seminar. I didn’t even know I was coming until last night when my roommate asked me to come with her. I would’ve warned you if I knew. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you in this position.”

My apology was sincere seeing as I promised Spencer we would never run into each other. In fact, it was the sole reason we agreed to stay in this relationship - the mutual guarantee that we wouldn’t be put in these situations, but here we were.

In this fucking situation.

“No, it’s fine. I was just surprised to see you, that’s all.”

Spencer could tell I was flustered and truly apologetic for my ignorance, and he was almost about to reach out and rub my upper arm comfortingly when his actions were cut short by the looming presence of his fellow guest speaker.

“Hi there. David Rossi.” He introduced himself by extending his hand into the space between us. “And you are?”

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).”

_ _ _

“(Y/n) (y/l/n).”

It was like watching my worst nightmare come alive.

If I ever imagined introducing (y/n) to my work family, this certainly wasn’t the plan. I just hoped to God that if Rossi and (y/n) ever met again in the future, he wouldn’t suddenly obtain my eidetic memory and recall her familiar face from this exact moment.

“Got any questions for us?” Rossi coyly asked her. Once more I prayed to God that his profiling skills hadn’t just improved drastically and that he could sense the tension between the two of us. It almost seemed like he asked that question just to tease her because he knew what was really happening. But then again, that was probably just my paranoia speaking.

She looked mortified when he asked this, even glancing back at me briefly as if to ask for a reprieve. “Um, no not really. I-I was just telling Dr. Reid that I’ve applied to audit his class before, but was always rejected.”

“That’s a shame. Well, maybe I can look into that. You know, put in a good word for you.” Rossi chuckled, nudging (y/n)’s shoulder to suggest he’d help her. She only shyly laughed and took a step closer to the door.

“Oh, no you don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense. I’d be happy to do it.”

“Thanks, Mr. Rossi.” With a thankful smile, (y/n) pranced out the door, closing the lecture hall door sharply behind her without one look back.

“Nice girl,” Rossi acknowledged. “But it would be nicer if she could be on time.”

I laughed, despite not finding (y/n) to be at the butt of the joke to be funny at all.

“Um, are you actually gonna put in a good word for her?” I followed Rossi with my eyes, searching his face with a desperate hope that my question didn’t reveal too much.

“Yeah, why not? I figured you would’ve liked to have another student audit your class.”

“Yeah yeah…” I murmured in false agreement.

Herein lies the trouble.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

PART 4 COMING SOON!

comment to be added to the taglist!

taglist:

@andiebeaword @rexorangecouny @rip2myyouthjpg

#serpent of eden #spencer reid #spencer reid series #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic

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moonbeamsung · 4 years ago

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CRΣΣKS

Love, a second glance, it is not something that we need.

member: jeno

au: guardian angel in disguise!jeno x gn!reader, guardian angel au

word count: 3.4k

genre: angst

warnings: character death/loss, profanity, no happy ending, mentions of religion, questioning/loss of faith

recommended song: 715 - CRΣΣKS by the nor’easters

author’s note: Please be very careful with volume when listening to the song (above) that inspired this story! But even without reading the lyrics/listening, the fic will still make sense, and happy reading :)

network tags: @kpopscape @neo-constellations @starryktown

The wind is whistling, weaving in and out of the tall river reeds like an invisible needle and thread, stitching itself into each and every crevice of the world’s gift called nature.

Another one of its many gifts is the young boy that’s resting beside a rushing brook, toes dipped into the cool water and face illuminated by the sun as it beats down onto the earth with celestial strength.

Well, a gift from the heavens, that is.

Sent from the endless skies above, Jeno is your guardian angel, assigned with posing as a humble peasant boy in the village, all to keep a watchful eye on you from afar. In his human form, he spends his days wandering the cobblestone roads and narrow alleyways between the quaint buildings, with no family to return home to at dusk. A sunny meadow on the outskirts of town becomes his home, and he takes refuge in the shelter that the overgrown grass provides.

Everything is going smoothly, and he’s doing his job just as he should be. It’s routine now, waking up and rising from his earthen mattress, curtains of copious plant leaves letting in the sun’s rays. He finds you, observes at a comfortable distance, and that’s that. At its core, being a guardian is really an easy job. A predictable one.

A monotonous one.

Until one day you approach him, youthful eagerness in your eyes piercing and nearly painful, even to his invulnerable body. He’s never seen you up close before, only on the near horizon as you’ve gone about your daily chores, tending to the housework just like any obedient child should.

“...Who are you?”

Now, Jeno is faced with a decision more challenging than any that us mortal beings have to make in our entire lives. Engaging with one’s assignment is an extremely dangerous path to take. Unimaginable punishments await, should the guardian make a wrong choice. But Jeno was careless, and he had allowed himself to be discovered by the only human on Earth that the divine forces permit him to be seen by.

He makes the fatal error of answering you, ultimately shattering a future he’ll never get to live out, one that he doesn’t even know he would’ve had. Like a sharp rock being thrown at a church’s stained glass window, the meticulously carved pieces of his worldly existence fall to the ground with a deafening crash, broken beyond repair.

“I’m Jeno,” the strikingly majestic cadence of his words is like that of angel trumpets, the sound ringing in your head and making you dizzy with both fascination and infatuation.

And just like that, in three short syllables, you’re both fated to fall before you can even spread your wings.

From the moment you hear his name tumble from those beautiful lips, you’re hooked, and he knows it. He sees it in the way you look at him, in the way you act, the way you talk. A child experiencing a first and a forbidden love all at once.

It breaks his heart, because he knows it can’t, and shouldn’t last. The churning rapids of the creek nearby weep for him, for they know that in a matter of just a few short years, their waters are destined to mix with the salty tears that will steadily cascade from your trembling chin.

Jeno remembers, although vaguely, the brief amount of time he spent living amongst the clouds, being prepared by the heavenly elders for this expedition of a lifetime, quite literally. He remembers the scriptures, the strictures, and all the times he’s been warned of the severe consequences that come with immorality.

But even the purest of young angels aren’t infallible, still susceptible to compulsions that lead them to sin and defy their creator.

Relishing in the fading daylight, you join him by the water’s edge, listening to his soothing tone as he answers your ceaseless inquiries with harmless little lies as white as heavenly robes and cherub wings.

Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbor. The first sin.

It’s interesting, he thinks, that despite looking after you in the endeavors of your youth for quite a while now, he knows next to nothing about who you truly are. Actions may speak louder than words, but how can he know that if he’s never heard your voice to begin with?

As the quiet, languid conversation shifts from his purpose there to yours, Jeno learns that you’re very content with your life, taking pride in helping your family with daily tasks as well as assisting your neighbors in the close-knit village with theirs.

Just then, all the smears of dirt and scattered scratches adorning your face catch his attention, gained after hours of hard work. No amount of water is ever enough to scrub them off of your skin at the end of the day, no matter how hard you try. Sometimes, you feel tears prick your eyes as you try to fall asleep at night, frustrated with your lowly appearance and how it never seems to match your relatively optimistic outlook on life.

But Jeno doesn’t care. You’re breathtaking even in his eyes, the eyes that belong to an actual angel. If that fact alone isn’t enough to boost your confidence, he doesn’t know what else possibly could.

Like a fool, he lets himself drown in your sublimity for a moment, marveling at the ethereal glow of the sun on your smooth, ageless face. The faint noise of wisps of air blowing gently through the meadow and rustling the flora makes him drowsy, but the sight of a pure white heron landing gracefully on the opposite side of the riverbank brings him back to full consciousness in an instant.

The bird, an omen of sorts, had been sent down from Heaven, conjured up from a fleeting idea and into a physical reality, by the holy beings looking down upon the earth, indicating that they’re well aware of the threat he poses and just how close he is to making an irreversible mistake in regards to you, his assignment and assignment only.

The heron abruptly unfurls its delicately feathered wings, as if frightened, before taking off and floating away on the breeze, both of your gazes inexplicably drawn to it as it flies until it’s out of sight altogether.

It warns him of just what he’s messing with, exactly.

This is not a part of the creator’s plan for you, for him. Falling in love with the one an angel is supposed to guard is an appalling crime to commit in the eyes of the elders that inhabit the sky, in the eyes of God. Though it doesn’t explicitly go against a commandment or biblical law, it’s just an understood rule. It’s wrong.

Jeno tells himself this, and continues to do so over the many years that he looks after you, never acting on his emotions, only acknowledging them before sending the less-than-acceptable thoughts into the depths of his conscious mind. He only wishes he had a key to lock them up and forget he even felt them in the first place.

Even as an angel, he ages just like anyone else, the both of you going from kids to teenagers and then nearing the young-adult stage of life, with you remaining blissfully unaware of Jeno’s true identity all the while. It’s a miracle he’s managed to keep his secret for this long, honestly, but like grains of sand in an hourglass, your time together is running out, whether you like it or not.

Not even a year before your entire world, your entire reality comes undone before your very eyes, Jeno feels as if his has already done just that. Because you’ve found someone. And that someone isn’t him.

He hates the feeling of jealousy, despises it with every fiber of his heavenly being. But he can’t shake it, can’t bear the way it clings to him like an unwelcome visitor. An unrecognizable emotion, one so foreign that he can’t even put a name to it, is stirred up at the sight of you in their arms, so pure and so unworthy of this person. Boy, if he didn’t know any better, Jeno would swear that you were the angel.

With each day that passes, he begins to feel the final shreds of both his dignity and his self-control slipping away, lost to the familiar breeze that whips through the village, stronger than ever these days. He can no longer contain it within himself. He wants you.

Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s goods. The second sin.

How ironic that a Sunday, of all days, is when everything falls apart.

The sun is hanging low in the sky, just barely grazing the horizon with its bright beams of warmth as it steadily rises, bathing the world in a soft yellow glow. You can also see the moon leftover from the night that ended not so long ago, fading fast but visible nonetheless. Two complete opposites, so close but prevented by the laws of nature for coexisting in the same space, at the same time.

Maybe, just maybe, if you knew just how much you had in common with the celestial objects above, you would have clutched the hand of Jeno a bit tighter yesterday, intertwined your fingers a little more closely with those of someone who had become the closest thing to a best friend that you had ever known. You admit that you wish he could be something more, but you know better than to push your limits.

You got tired of waiting to see if he felt the same way, choosing to fill the void with someone else that you liked, yes, but who just wasn’t the same as the boy who had always been there, waiting in the meadow every morning without fail. Still, your emotions are ever-alert and always searching for any sign of reciprocation within Jeno.

He’s nowhere to be found when you reach the water’s edge, the edge of the creek where you wasted away endless summer days and frosty winter nights, colorful spring afternoons and brisk autumn evenings.

This morning would seem no different than the rest if not for his absence. The knot in your heart loosens, but not by much, when you spot him at the forest’s edge, looking weary.

Jeno notices you and calls out your name with a smile, but something about it isn’t genuine. It’s pained, desperate, like he wants to hold onto this moment forever, unwilling to carry out the plan he’s already regretting. It’s too late now, he thinks to himself, but he’s wrong.

It’s been too late for years.

“Jeno?”

“This way!” He chokes out. It’s somewhere between a sob and a plea, but there’s no time to figure out which is the more appropriate term. He disappears between the trees and amidst their mossy branches, blending in with the shadows cast by the thick canopy of leaves, and you break into a sprint, afraid of losing him to the merciless wilderness and what lies within.

Thankfully, he’s not too far gone. A small clearing greets you less than a dozen strides in, and in the very center of it stands a glass gazebo, run-down and covered in so many twisting vines to the point where the small structure is almost fully consumed by the nature surrounding it.

The scene is beautiful, so much so that it makes you uneasy. What’s going on? Why did he bring you here? Why does he seem so sad? Jeno is never sad, maybe he could be described as brooding or solemn on the rarest of occasions, but never this melancholy, never so utterly hopeless in his expressions and his aura.

None of these questions are answered, even as he takes your hands in his own and leads you inside of the gazebo, its see-through panels catching the light with elegance and ease.

“I need to tell you something.” Just like it did the first time you heard it, his voice still shocks you like a bolt of electricity, your blood pressure and heart rate skyrocketing. All of this is heightened, though, by grim tone he’s speaking to you with.

“What is it, Jen?” There it is. The nickname you made up for him that, although simple, makes him feel like he’s on top of the world. Actually, scratch that: it makes him feel like he’s floating in the sky, up past the clouds and even further away from this cruel planet than the heavens are from Hell.

You’re only making this harder for him. He might as well just spit it out, because all this waiting is agonizing for the both of you.

“We... we can’t be together.”

The sentence that leaves his lips is two declarations wrapped up in one singular statement, the first being that he wants to be with you in the same way you want to be with him. It’s much too hopeful, misleading your emotions down a path of elation instead of dread. The second is unpleasant, a bitter taste lingering on his tongue once he says the words.

“...Yes, yes we can, Jen, because I don’t really love them and all this time it’s been you—”

“You don’t understand,” he tries to stop the confession spilling out from your heart before it overflows, drowns you. “I’m not who you think I am.”

Stunned to silence, he gives you a moment to drink in the implications of his words. “...I’ve known you for over half of my entire life, and you’re trying to tell me I have no idea who you really are? Not a chance,” you laugh softly, shaking your head and glancing down at the wooden gazebo floor, old white paint peeling under your feet.

“But haven’t you ever wondered why I’m always there by the creek every morning? How I turn up throughout your day at the perfect time? How I’m suddenly right by your side when you need me the most?”

You have wondered. Many times, in fact. But the possibility of him being anything other than human was not at the top of your very rational list.

“...Don’t you see? I’m your guardian angel.”

He sees you blink, realization dawning on your face like the sun and stretching your features. “There are laws—” He begins, but your reaction is not the one he anticipated you would have to that information.

Too overwhelmed, you can’t respond with anything other than physical actions, no matter how unreasonable, and you press your dry lips to his soft ones, sealing your fate. Standing there, with beams of golden light infiltrating the space and illuminating your unsteady figures, Jeno is petrified not by your kiss, but by the fact that he doesn’t push you away, and his hands hold onto yours even tighter than before. Nothing has ever felt so right in his entire life. Not when he was in Heaven, and not in all the years he’s spent on Earth, either.

You’re his Heaven, this moment is his eternity. Jeno has endured enough temptation, the undeniable thrill that a deliberate sin promises has become too much for him. If he pulls away now, everything would still be okay, you could both go back to normal and pretend this never happened. But alas, he was doomed to kiss you back from the beginning, and so he does, and you have no idea what the universe has in store when you feel his lips finally respond to yours in the most unholy way possible. For the first and last time, you indulge in each other’s touch and taste, and it does not please the ones watching from above.

The third and final sin, one sin too many for him to remain in this world without consequence.

Several things happen all at once. A clap of thunder sounds overhead, though there are no clouds in sight. Jeno is painfully ripped from your grasp and thrown out of the gazebo by some invisible force of nature, into the grass and dirt on the forest floor.

And inside of you, a piece of your soul is torn from your being, bile rising up in your throat as you comprehend the excruciating sensation that racks your body with pained whimpers.

Stumbling to his feet, Jeno heaves, hunched over and close to tears. Suppressing the agony you still feel, you hurry over to him only for the boy to charge away, heading back towards the open meadow. With a broken shout of his name, you follow.

You didn’t notice before, but now the blinding light reveals the condition he’s in. He looks almost normal, but the edges of his form are becoming fainter by the minute, blurring with the rest of the world around him. He’s fading away before your eyes, and it’s all your fault.

It’s a torturous experience, watching him slowly meld with the emptiness of the air. Making him disappear into thin air in an instant would have been an act of mercy, a mercy that’s apparently beyond the capabilities of the spectators in the sky.

Struggling to maintain your composure, you force a question out. “What’s happening?” You ask, though you know he doesn’t have an answer himself.

He’s obviously panicked, though he tries not to show it. “I... I don’t know, I knew that it was forbidden for us to fall in love but I didn’t think I’d be robbed of my existence like this...”

“What?! No, Jeno, please don’t go...” You beg the gods and angels above, if any exist. You don’t know anymore.

If there is a God, how can he be good if he’s taking Jeno away from you like this, depriving you of the one constant source of joy and comfort in your life?

It’s far too cruel to bestow such a kind and generous heart upon someone who isn’t allowed to love in the first place.

Even Jeno’s touch is faint, making you feel like he’s not there at all. You just barely detect the pads of his fingers smoothing over your cheeks, trying to stop the water spilling from your eyes. He smiles sadly, “Don’t cry for me. I’m not worth the tears.”

“You’re everything to me, Jeno. You’re worth every drop.”

“Remember me like this, okay? By the creek,” he gestures to the turbulent waters a short distance away. Walking slowly, he begins to take steps in its direction, but as he speeds up you’re no longer able to match his pace. “Jeno, turn around...”

Glancing back at you for the final time, he whispers a goodbye that the breeze carries away with it, the sound something only the two of you would hear, one that could never be replicated.

“Goddamnit, Jeno, don’t you dare leave me!” But you know you can’t hold on, you’re not strong enough. A greater force wants you two apart, unable to be overpowered by one human, a relatively insignificant being in the grand scheme of the universe. He vanishes completely.

You fall to your knees, the pain from the pebbles digging into your legs and feet underneath the surface of the creek numbed by your sorrow. The water drenches your clothes, splashing up onto your skin and becoming one with your relentless tears. You’re left all alone, with only the cattails to keep you company. You wish the waves would just swallow you whole so you don’t have to feel this suffocating isolation.

In an unnecessarily harsh trick of the light combined with the dancing shadows generated by the water, you swear that you see Jeno again for a second, sitting on the riverbank like always. You sob louder.

It takes forever for you to find the strength to stand up again, water running over your soaked shoes and threatening to topple you over. You wouldn’t mind if it succeeds.

Inconsolable even to your closest friends and family, you reluctantly return to the village, unwilling to leave behind what you’ve just been through and unable to explain just why you’re crying so hard. Maybe if you stay there forever, spending each day and night waiting among the reeds and the flowers and the grass, he’ll come back someday, but no. He’ll never return, but you simply can’t bring yourself to accept this fact.

You’re never quite the same after that. Part of the curse that haunts you for the rest of your life is this: no matter how hard you try to retain your memories, you’re destined to forget Jeno eventually, leaving vast gaps in your brain when it comes to the years of your youth.

You’re left with only a feeling of inexplicable nostalgia at the sight of the meadow and the creek running through it, the waters still as violent as they were on the day you lost him.

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