#did I stay up too late digging into this? yes
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insane rabbit hole of the night. chasing down rumors of a 1999 revolutionary girl utena musical where it gets hijacked by a zombie apocalypse
can't fully tell if it's the most buckwild fan lie i've seen in a while (found a 2007 forum archive with the posts and all the links are broken. so i'm still not fully convinced)
or a piece of lost media i would sell my soul for (utena archive twitter managed to turn up some pictures of it 8 months ago)
#did I stay up too late digging into this? yes#do I regret it? no#Utena as gory experimental theater is incredibly my bullshit#rgu
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Are you going to continue the roomate James series? I’m actually in love with it😍
Yes! Thank you for reading <3
part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13
roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 804 words
“Honey, I’m home!”
A smile tugs at your lips, even as you roll your eyes to yourself. James has become more and more fond of these pet names, and of announcing his comings and goings like he’s worried you’ll miss him. (He’s never gone long enough for that, though you might actually miss him if he were.) If you don’t respond in some way or another, he’ll—
“Hey.” He pokes his head through your cracked door. “You alive in here?”
You pause in folding your laundry to give him a deadpan look. “I could have been in my underwear.”
He looks mildly horrified. “I’d hope if you were, you’d close the door all the way.”
“You know, I did manage to stay alive even before you moved in.”
James leans on your doorframe, giving you the sort of lazy grin you have to pretend doesn’t scare butterflies into flight in your stomach. You really hope that wears off soon. “See, but now I’m convinced if I don’t check on you, you really will die and it’ll be my fault.”
“How would it be your fault?”
“Classic case of roommate neglect. I smell the rotting coming from inside your room, the police come, they ask How did you not know your roommate was dead for a month? I reply, Well, officer, she said she could be galavanting in her underwear at any moment. They put me in handcuffs and I spend the next five to fifteen years having Sirius bring me cigarettes I don’t want so that I can trade them for ramen noodles in the yard.”
You scoff, fighting a smile. “As if you would ever eat ramen.”
“That’s what I’m saying, sweetheart. You’d be forcing me upon desperate times. But hey,” he raises his hands in a show of surrender, “I didn’t come in here to discuss prison currency. Would it be alright with you if I had friends over tonight?”
“Of course,” you say, looking back down to match a pair of socks. “You don’t need to ask every time, it’s always alright.”
“Thanks,” he says warmly, “but it makes me feel better to ask. What do you want on your pizza?”
You blink. “Me?”
“Yes, you.” He smiles. Butterflies all over again. “You don’t have to hang out with us to eat it—though we’d love to have you—but I’m not just going to order pizza to your own apartment without having any for you.”
“It’s your apartment, too,” you remind him. “That’d be a very normal thing to do.”
“Irregardless.” James waves you off. You wrinkle your nose at the word choice. “What do you want?”
You swallow a sigh. There are some things, you’ve found, James is nearly impossible to argue with about. If you really dig your heels in, sometimes you can make him move first, but you don’t feel like it right now.
You do the next best thing you can think of: choosing the least obtrusive option. “Cheese is good with me, thanks.”
His eyes narrow like he knows what you’re doing, but he says, “Got it. I’ll let you know when it’s here.”
“Thanks.” You turn your attention back to your laundry. James lingers in the doorway.
A month ago, you would have kept ignoring him, working on the (unfounded) hope that he’d go away. Now, you look up.
“Do you think you might come downstairs and hang out?” he asks. He has a strange look on his face, one you can’t quite decipher. “You know you’re always invited.”
You give James a terse sort of smile. He’s not stopped inviting you to do things since the day he moved in. Your open invitation has been made very clear, and you’ve been accepting it more often lately. James is someone who makes it easy to feel close to him. He tosses pet names at you like they’re nothing, comes to check on you when he gets home, pretends he needs to go grocery shopping just because you need a ride to the store. Last week, you’d sat down to watch a movie with him and woken up to a black screen, your cheek smushed into his shoulder and his head resting atop yours.
Somehow, you’ve let him spill into your life without meaning to, and now you have these childish, crush-like reactions whenever he smiles a certain way or calls you pet names with that familiar bent to his voice. You know you just need time to sort these feelings out. It’d probably be ideal to keep yourself from spilling into his life as much as possible in the meantime.
But it’s hard to deny James anything when he’s so sweet to you. And he’s nice. His friends seem nice.
“I might,” you say.
“I’ll take the win,” James replies, smiling. These butterflies are seriously inconvenient.
#roommate!james potter#shy!reader#roommate!james potter x shy!reader#james potter au#james potter#james potter x shy!reader#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#marauders fandom#the marauders#hp marauders#marauders x reader#marauders au
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HOMECOMING
PAIRING: Jackson! Joel Miller x afab! reader || WC: 1.8k
SYNOPSIS: After a long day of patrol, Joel comes home later than he said he would be back. You are just happy to welcome him back into your arms.
CONTENT/WARNINGS: FLUFF. Suggestive content - 18+. Established relationship. Soft & affectionate Joel Miller. Ambiguous age gap (Joel is in his late 50s, reader is 25+). Mentions of early pregnancy. Cute stuff. Banter and teasing. No use of y/n.
A/N: Hey there, been a while. In case y'all forgot, yes I do still write LMAO. This is a little something that I wrote miraculously on my free time, and it is my first Joel Miller piece. I'm also slowly getting back into writing so pls be nice! I did originally write this with the new Pedro Pascal picture as Joel in mind, but I'm a gamer Joel type of girl at heart so that's what I went with. Hopefully, it is enjoyable for those who choose to read it. Any likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated! Dividers by @saradika-graphics.
➣ TLOU was created by a zionist and is based off of the Israeli occupation of Palestine. Please refer to this link to learn how you can help the Palestinian people.
NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3
Night fell over Jackson, soothing and quiet as it usually was. You’d think after some time, you’d get used to the stillness that often consoled others in a world full of unsettling clicks and gunfire, but you found yourself troubled with the calmness that followed once the sun went down. The change of the seasons propelled a temperature shift outside; bitter winter exchanged for the rebirth of spring, which hopefully meant the sun would stay in the sky just a little bit longer.
Your face nuzzled into the pillow beneath you, the material not yours to claim, but it wasn’t unfamiliar. Digging your nose further into the bedding, you subconsciously chased the faint scent of pinewood and gunpowder, one of the few things that eased your anxiety. It was a smell you got used to recognizing over the past few years, not that you’ve been keeping count.
Despite the warmth the sheets provided you as you rested on the left side of the bed, your body felt cold, missing a familiar set of strong arms and a welcoming chest pressing up against you. He had told you before he left for patrol that he’d be back before sundown, that was the plan anyway. But you knew better than anyone that stepping outside the protective gates of Jackson always left room for the unpredictable.
In the haze of your dreams, you faintly heard the click of the front door opening and closing, the floorboards of the stairs creaking with the ghost of muted footsteps. You stirred in bed, ears trained to pinpoint the noise, yet too stubborn to wake up entirely. A breeze entered the bedroom before you sensed something else sharing the space.
That’s when you felt the phantom touch of plush lips skimming along your hairline. If you weren’t awake then, you certainly were now.
“Joel?” A call of his name equivalent to a whimper at the sudden contact you craved. You caught the slight intake of breath and the exhale that followed.
“It’s me darlin’. Didn’t mean to wake you,” Joel spoke quietly, the peaceful baritone of his voice awakening you fully. As you sighed, you met his tired gaze with your own, bruised knuckles raising to brush your cheekbone affectionately.
“Things went okay on the patrol?” You questioned him, pleased that he was here with you in one piece rather than focusing on the fact that he came later than you’d like.
“Yeah, had to check something out with Tommy to be sure before coming back. I’m sorry honey, didn't want to make you stay up for me.”
Even if it was unintended, Joel felt guilty whenever he didn’t stick to his word. He was not much of a virtuous man, lived a large part of the past two-plus decades giving less of a shit about honesty and ethics. But when it came to you, it killed him when he couldn’t follow through on his promises, even if things weren’t within his control. The last thing Joel wanted was to upset you or make you worry, but no matter how many times he reassured you of his return, you still tried your hardest to wait for him to come back home, back to you.
“It’s okay, I’m just happy you’re here,” you blinked slowly as his voice filtered through the lagged mess of your head. Leaning your face towards his hand, you kissed the inside of his palm. “Go freshen up and come to bed; I’m cold.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he chuckled with a smile at your forgiveness, parting from you for a second and heading to the bathroom, not planning to make you wait any longer.
You watched his silhouette from where you lay on the bed, fluttering your eyes closed at the sound of running water. When the door opened again, Joel’s broad figure returned wearing a worn-down flannel and some fleece pants he had snagged long ago.
“Scoot,” he jutted his chin to gesture to the right side of the mattress, your side, suggesting to reclaim his on the left. Shifting to the right, you let him slip into the bed feet first, hauling the sheets to cover the both of you. A bulky arm wrapped around your waist and tugged you close to him, your body molding to his like a missing puzzle piece.
“Not too far now,” Joel grinned as you nestled right into his warm chest, seeking his attention and attempting to siphon more of his warmth. It takes you off guard how your nerves instantly settled once you had Joel near you again. In his arms, that was where you belonged—protected, loved, safe.
“I missed you,” you mumbled, eyes shutting to breathe in his typical musk. One of his hands cradled your lower back, thumb running circles into your skin.
“I missed you too, darlin’. Too damn much.” Joel kissed your forehead, drawing lines up and down your back with his fingertips.
His hand moved again from behind you to the front of your body, palming your stomach protectively. A smile crept up on his face as he felt your tummy under the material of the flannel you stole from him, the only thing you preferred for pajamas. The gentle curve of your belly was not yet prominent enough to be overly detectable, but he knew what you carried. Precious cargo. That’s what he called it after you both adjusted to the shock of adding to Jackson’s current population count.
“Still feelin’ sick?” Joel asked you in the room’s darkness, his eyes shifting to watch over your facial features. The moonlight illuminated the edge of your jaw and the roundness of your cheeks, and his chest ached at the thought of witnessing other growing changes over the next couple of months.
“Sometimes. It bothers me, but nothing I can’t handle.” You reassured him the best way you knew how, having to rely on Maria’s advice for all things related to childcare and Ellie being your new overly protective guard and nurse when Joel wasn’t around.
If someone had told you that you’d find yourself alive after the apocalypse in a safe community and pregnant at that, you’d consider them crazy. Yet here you were, carrying a man’s child when you least expected it, a man years older than you with memories of a reality you couldn’t experience or remember. But you didn’t mind; the end of the world didn’t leave much room for strict morals anyway.
Make the most of it. You don’t know when you’ll miss something once it’s gone.
Joel had told you that after the first few patrols you had with him once you adjusted to Jackson, growing comfortable with the stoic and quiet man who grabbed your attention everywhere he went. He shared stories of a time before the world fell apart, discussing things like watching the sunset, listening to music from artists you’ve never heard of, and sweet treats he missed tasting. Things changed after the seventh patrol together, where you saw him smile for the first time after successfully hunting some game for the town.
That night, one thing led to another. It started after some drinks, a hungry and messy kiss on your doorstep that led to clothes on the bedroom floor, and hands pawing at one another. You woke up the next morning with an arm wrapped around your waist and his nose rubbing the back of your neck.
Simply put, you haven’t left since.
“Oh, I know. Can handle a whole lot, strong woman you are.” Joel taunted you a bit, his memory fleeting momentarily and recalling the spitfire you always were with him in particular. He could never seem to tame your spunk and attitude, but he grew to love it like the rest of you.
“Mhmm, real strong, if you ask me.” You held his gaze with a gleam of mischief, bringing your body closer to his wide chest and tilting your chin upwards, silently asking for more than a cuddle.
“You tryin’ to tell me something I don’t already know?”
“I don’t know. Am I?” You were a tease, always have been, jerking Joel’s chain more than he cared to admit.
“Those hormones are messing with your head, darlin’. Got you acting feisty,” he smirked, shifting nearer to your face.
Curious hands reached up to curl through his thick, graying curls. The contrasting streaks along his temple became more noticeable as time passed, matching the graying beard you’ve come to love and adore. He hesitated to let his hair grow out initially, thinking he’d look too much like his younger brother. Much convincing later, paired with hiding the shears, you got the desired result, and now you were lucky enough to enjoy the fruits of your labor.
The kiss was velvety as it was intimate, your tongue lining his bottom lip before he groaned, granting you entrance into his mouth. You swallowed the rumble he released, drawing a path of your touch from his neck down to his lower abdomen. Antsy fingers itched to skim the waistband of the fleece that concealed him, reaching close to the hardness you felt before he seized your hand away.
“Aht aht, no. As much as I want you there, it’s bedtime.” Joel didn’t necessarily want you to stop. Hell, if it were up to him, he’d let you go to town on him however you wanted. But his energy levels were dwindling, and all he wanted to do after a long day was get some proper rest with you in his arms.
“But-”
“Sweetheart, if you let this old man sleep, I’ll wake you up to a real nice surprise in the mornin’.” It was an effortless proposition, easy to keep you at bay until the next day and enough to curb your insatiable appetite.
“Promise?” You beat your lashes at him, knowing the last thing Joel would do was deliberately not provide for your needs, even if that meant having to keep up with you physically.
“Pinkie swear.” Joel gave you another peck before letting you get comfy against his chest once more, cuddling into him as much as your growing belly would allow without being squished. You started to drift off as sleep called to you, listening to the gentle rhythm of soft beating in your ear.
“Breakfast too, Miller.” You murmured to him, peeping how he laughed in the dark with his eyes closed. The pleasant and lively sound made you smile and your heart pound.
“Oh, I’ll feed you. Don’t worry your pretty little head about that.”
The peace in your bedroom matched the serenity that fell over Jackson. Now that you had Joel wrapped around you, you didn’t mind how quiet it was. So long as you have him, you can handle anything that comes your way.
©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!
#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fluff#joel miller one shot#joel x reader#joel x you#joel tlou#the last of us#tlou#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#tlou fluff#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#ovaryacted fics#⋆♱ nic works ♱⋆
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𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧
you get upset when eddie's friends think you're clingy. he sets you straight with some unbridled affection. requested here. fem!reader, 2.6k
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
The diner is bustling with life and smells alike, people in their summer jackets eager to sit down and dig into a plate of greasy, fatty meats. You're just as excited, your fingers curled into Eddie's sleeve and following his lead as he weaves through a gaggle of kids playing between the bar and the booths.
"Sorry, sir," a young girl says to him, springing out of his path.
"That's okay," he says, leaning back to squint at you curiously, "Do I look like a sir?" he asks you.
Pale faced, dark-haired, the remnants of last night's eyeliner clinging to his bottom lashes, you can't say you'd look at Eddie and think, Sir. Pretty boy extraordinaire with a rather inviting smile, absolutely.
"I think so, sir," you say.
Eddie laughs at you, pressing a hand behind your shoulders to move you along. His friend Gareth waves from a booth tucked in a corner under a white sconce. Jamison sits to his left, and Margaret to his right. You feel a little skip in your pulse at the sight —they intimidate you, and you want desperately for them to like you, only you never know what to say.
"Hey," Eddie says as you approach the booth. He pushes you gently to encourage you into the seat first. "How's it going? Did we order?"
"We were waiting for you. They said we have to go up to the bar when we're ready."
"We're late, I get it. Where's Jeff?"
"He went to the bathroom, like, ten minutes ago," Jamison says with a sigh, climbing to his feet. "I'll go see if he's alright."
"He's fine. Maggie, are you coming to order?" Gareth says, getting up with him.
"Yes, finally!" she says.
The relative chaos of your arrival has you hesitating in your seat. Margaret left her purse and her jacket on the table, and Jamison his keys.
"You okay to stay here while I order?" Eddie asks.
You'd much prefer Eddie order for you, but you don't want to be sitting here by yourself if Jamison and Jeff come back before him. You won't know what to say. It won't be their fault. You'll make things awkward for everyone.
You stand up again, shedding your jacket as you do. No one's gonna steal anyone's stuff, the bar is too close. "I'll come with you."
Eddie slots your fingers together easily, grinning, "Lucky me."
His friends order first and return to the booth soon after. You and Eddie get cut by a cranky looking old lady but neither of you say anything, nowhere to be and no reason to mind. He tells you about the guitar he's been repairing at work and you listen adoringly, in love with the shape of his lips and how he says every word. He's a great storyteller.
A new friend appears once you've ordered.
"Hey, Eddie!" one of the waiters says, appearing from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and fries in hand. "Man, I've been trying to get a hold of you all week. The string on my daughter's guitar flew off, nearly blinded her in the process, would you be able to fix that for me? I'll pay you for your time."
Eddie waves it off. "It'll only take five minutes, you can drop by whenever I'm home. Why do they keep splitting like that, is she messing with the pegs?"
"She definitely is. Can I get your number? Macey washed my pants without emptying the pockets."
There's a mad scramble for a pen. You have one in your jacket because Eddie's always looking for one, but your jacket is back in the booth. You promise to make a hasty return and set off for it, glad to see Jeff's alright, standing at the table likely waiting for you and Eddie to get back rather than move your things. You like Jeff most out of everyone. With the whole group collected you know he won't drag you into conversation.
"She's a bit… much," Gareth's saying.
"How can she be a bit much? She doesn't say a lot," Maggie says.
You frown. You're the only other she.
"Not like that, just– the touching and stuff. She's always grabbing onto him like a toddler. I don't think I could stand it."
"You don't have to stand it," Jeff says. "She's Eddie's girl."
"Clearly."
"Gareth, when was the last time you got laid?" Maggie asks, flicking a hair tie at him, to his annoyance. "You're being bitter. They fucking love each other, man, it's nice."
"It is a little tiny bit too much sometimes," Jamison says.
You wince. You know it's a matter of seconds before one of them turns to see you standing there. Is it worse to turn around or to approach?
You walk up to the table just as Gareth says, "Yes! Thank you man, she's too–"
He cuts off when he sees you with a cough.
"Who?" you ask, full well knowing it's you. Honestly, you're shy but you still get mad, you kind of want him to own up and say it while you're there, and at the same time you're hoping against hope they'll lie.
Thankfully, they pretend it was about someone else.
"Nobody," Maggie says.
"Some girl at the library," Jamison says.
You lean past Jeff with as sunny an apology as you can manage to grab the pen from your jacket. "Eddie," you say by way of explanation, holding the pen up with a shrug.
You walk away quicker than you should. It's obvious you've overheard. There's a thump and a, "Nice fucking job, loser."
Eddie's deep in conversation as you offer the pen. He takes it without stopping, but he makes sure he kisses your cheek.
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom, okay?" you say.
"I'll be right there, sweetheart."
To get to the bathroom you have to walk past the booth again. With the hurt feeling pounding between your ears and what you suspect might be all eyes on you, you make for one of the two doors. The summer sun and the dry Hawkins heat hits you immediately, a second layering of smothering to wrap around the first. You walk around a rainbow chalk hopscotch and into the shade of the smoking shelter, hands at your collar, breathing hard.
Don't cry, you think firmly. Don't cry. They'll know if you do and that's twice as embarrassing as walking out. Imagine how embarrassed Eddie will feel if you cause a scene.
You sit on the little perch in the shelter and stare at the floor. There's nowhere to look that isn't stingingly bright, the sun in the white-blue sky glaring down on you and the sidewalk bleached a blinding ivory. You close your eyes against it. Your shoulders hunch in protectively. Your hands find their way to your face.
Like a toddler, Gareth said. You press your fingertips into your eyes, fighting against the ache. Is that true? Are you childish in how much you rely on Eddie? You take his hand and his arm, you catch onto his clothes when you're worried, you step behind him when you're overwhelmed.
"Shit," you whisper.
The breeze washing over you does little to cool you down. You must sit there for a handful of minutes, worried and nauseous.
"Hey," Eddie says gently. You flinch despite his best efforts not to startle you.
He looks tall outlined by the sun.
"You okay?" he asks.
"I just wanted some fresh air," you say.
He raises his brows slightly. "That why Gareth just apologised to me?"
You wince as he sits down. All of you wants to sag into his side, but a small voice tells you not to. You stay ramrod straight, hands pressed flat and clammy to your knees.
Eddie gives your elbow a rub. His thumb digs into soft skin and the harder suggestion of cartilage and bone before sliding up. He uses touch often to convey silent reassurement. This seems to say, I don't know what happened, but I'm here.
"I'm fine. We can go back inside," you say, attempting to fool him.
"There's no rush." His voice tips to a low, rough register. He's keyed in to your upset, no doubt about it. "It's a nice day, babe."
He gives you a minute. The small feathering of clouds skirts one edge of the horizon to the other, the shadow of the diner stretching tall as the sun lazes down. You push the worst of your feelings from your mind. It's easy to do with such an unshakeable support at your side, his fingers curling down to your forearm, vying for a hand to hold.
"I heard your friends talking about me. It wasn't all nice," you confess.
"Assholes."
You glance at his face. He has a crease between his brows.
"Well, mostly Gareth. He said that I… act like a kid. A toddler, that I'm too much, at least for him to stand. And don't get me wrong, Eds, I'm not thrilled that they were talking about me, but I guess I…" You take a short breath and look away from him. "I hate that it's true."
"You can be mad when people talk shit. I'm mad," he says. "He said you're like a toddler?" He shuffles closer to you on the bench. "Babe, it's not true, okay? You're not too much. Fuck, we're here to hang out and they can't wait ten minutes to run their mouths–"
"It wasn't like that, it was just Gareth." Gareth's always been the selfish friend.
"He doesn't get a pass for saying something shitty 'cos he's always shitty. I brought you here," —you peek at him, recognising upset in his tone even when it's the barest inkling— "knowing you didn't really want to come because you get so nervous," —he sounds pained for you— "I fucking told him to leave you alone. I said we wouldn't come around if he didn't stop being a mood killer."
You worry at your bottom lip. "Maybe that's kind of his point, Eds. You have to look out for me. You had to ask someone to be nice to me 'cos I can't handle it–"
"You don't have to handle it. The people around you should be nice to you. This isn't high school, you don't have to put up with it, and I told him that." Eddie grabs your arm with the hand that isn't tangled in yours and turns you to face him. "I'm sorry," he says, almost a murmur, "I didn't invite you today to have you humiliated."
You're feeling a little mortified by the passion of his feelings. He's mad at the wrong person, isn't he? "Why are you sorry? I'm the one who clings to you."
"I want you to." Eddie holds your eyes, brown and big and imploring you to listen, the starts of his brows sewing together. "I'm sorry because it's not fair. And because Gareth was a dick to you. And for getting mad." He smiles at you ruefully. "I'm being a dick, too."
"In what world?"
Eddie leans in slowly, giving you enough time to close your eyes as his nose bumps into yours, encouraging your head up to allow for a kiss. He kisses twice, a third time, pulling away to rub your bottom lip.
"Are you really upset?" he asks softly.
You know whatever answer you give him is one he's okay with.
"I feel so embarrassed," you say. "They knew that I overheard them. Now I feel like I'll be constantly worried about how much I'm touching you."
"Well, that's their problem. That doesn't say shit about you," Eddie says, wrinkling his nose.
"I'm really not too much?" you ask. He can likely hear how desperate you are for a kind answer, your throat burning with the effort it takes to stave off tears.
"You've never been too much. I'm the too-much one. You wouldn't even hold my hand when we first started dating, you remember that? We'd go to the movies and you'd get so flustered when I bought your ticket." Eddie's arms wrap around your waist, the breeze ruffling his sweet curls and sending gusts of his smell your way. You're a goner, dropping your face into his shoulder. "Do you remember that?" he asks again, his face slipping down to yours as he hugs you close. "The first time we went to the Hawk together, I went first, and I don't know why you thought you'd have to buy your own ticket but you got all quiet when I got yours, too. I loved that. You know what I loved even more than that?"
You smile, knowing he's going to say something lovely. "What?" you ask.
"I loved how proud you were to sit down with me. You wouldn't hold my hand but you'd put your cheek on my shoulder just like this."
Eddie rubs the tip of his nose against your temple. "I love how much you want to be near me," he says. "It's not childish, is it? If being closer to me makes you feel better, there's nothing wrong with that. Gareth's just jealous 'cos he isn't getting laid."
"That's what Maggie said." You laugh.
"Maggie's a good one. She makes Gareth bearable, kind of."
You feel the stretch of his back under your hands. Your head is pounding from the sudden rush of big emotions, your tongue dry and throat aching, but you don't have a lick of urgency to get up and go back in.
"He's such a dick," you whisper.
Eddie laughs, patting your back. "Such a fucking dick."
"I can't help being a loser and wanting to hug you so much," you say. You're joking now, but it's true all the same.
"I tempt the untemptable," he says agreeably.
You laugh and lift up a bit to hug him harder, your face pressing into his neck.
"You're not a loser," he says more seriously. "You know that, right? What Gareth said, it's not okay, but there's no accounting for idiocy." Eddie sits back on the bench, taking your forearms into his hands for some more soft massaging. "He can think whatever he likes, I'm not the government, but he was wrong, and also it's rude and, again, super shitty of him to do that here. So with your blessing I'm gonna punch him in the face."
"Nooooo," you murmur.
"Very soft no. Taking it for a yes."
"Eddie, you can't hit Gareth."
"He should watch his mouth, then."
You reach up for a second hug. You love that he prioritised how you felt, as well as how eager he is to stick up for you —how mad he is on your behalf.
"He's trying to take this away from me," Eddie says, leaning back under your weight, arms crossing behind your spine. He looks up at you like you've stolen his breath, lips parted and teeth peeking out with his smile.
"Do you really want to punch him?" you ask. You sound very fond.
"I hate that he made you feel bad about yourself. And he irritates me."
"But…"
Eddie hums like he's thinking for a moment. "No, I definitely still want to hit him."
You tuck a curl away from his cheek tenderly. "Thanks for wanting to defend my honour, Eds," you say.
"I'm on your side through everything." He looks ridiculously pretty saying such a ridiculously lovely thing. "That's how we work, right? You're on my side too?"
Your face flushes with heat. "Of course I am, baby."
"Good. Unrelated to our previous conversation, how much money do you have, roughly? In case I need financial aid in the coming days." He drops his voice to a whisper, "How much even is bail lately?"
You cup his cheek. "We can't afford it," you whisper back.
"Typical."
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
thank you for reading!♡
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson scenario#eddie munson drabble#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fanfiction#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things#stranger things fic#stranger things x reader
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The First One is On The House
Ningning fic once again a challenge given by @i-am-lifeform24
Length 2K
Ningning X Mreader
“Hello? Yes, I can fit her into my schedule. I should have an opening at 7. Later? I guess I could take her in after the show. Alright, I look forward to her visit.” You put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the table; you were so looking forward to going home early for the evening when you got a call from that customer. You would've preferred taking the appointment for another day, but you wanted to keep your weekend free. You sit back in your office chair and stare at the ceiling before gazing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three hours, that’s how long you’d have to wait for your guest to arrive.
Getting bored, you pulled out your phone and checked social media, seeing posts from stars from earlier in the day as they walked the red carpet for some fashion event nearby. You see a few of your usual clientele post pictures, liking them before moving on. Eventually, you get tired of that and begin some repetitive tasks, trying to seem busy as you wait for the client to arrive despite them arriving a couple of hours from now.
Soon enough, you went back to looking at your phone, checking out photos from the event, and seeing the different kinds of people that went. You stopped on a picture of Ningning from the group Aespa when you heard the door open. It was your friend, a manager for various groups. “Sorry for getting here late. She just felt so tired during the show, and we thought it best to call you.”
“Just who is it? That they needed a massage so desperately? I could’ve had a nice evening for myself.”
Your friend stands aside, letting his gues walk forward. “I’m sorry for making you stay late.” You recognize the woman as she bows her head; it’s Ningning. She was still in the same clothes you had seen in the picture a moment ago, a revealing short black dress that clung to her body.
You wave her off as you refocus. “It’s fine. Just prepare for the massage. I’m going to talk to your manager a bit.” You point the small woman toward a changing room and look back toward your friend.
You see him heading out the door before you can say anything. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back in an hour.”
“Hey!” The door shuts, and you’re left alone again. You head toward the window and watch him walk toward a nearby restaurant, shaking your head. “I’m gonna talk that guy's head off when he comes back.”
A small voice catches your attention, “I’m ready.” You turn back around to see Ningning covering herself with the towel provided. “Where did my manager go?”
“He went to go eat across the street. Anyway, please follow me.” You lead Ningning into one of the massage rooms and have her lie face down on the table. “I hope the clothing in there wasn’t too tight. I’m going to move the towel down now.” Ningning nods her head.
You move it down slowly, revealing the tan bra that was provided to all female guests who would rather not be naked. It was thick and padded, meant to be comfortable. Your eyes move down her back, noting her flawless skin. You lather your hands in an unscented oil, rubbing it in between your fingers before placing your hands on her lower back. You apply slight pressure on her back, dragging your thumbs away from the center of her body. “Did you have a good time at the fashion show?”
“It was alright, but the chairs were so uncomfortable. My body started to ache from sitting in them.”
“I see. Is there anywhere that aches specifically?”
“I mean, my butt hurts,” Ningning says with a laugh. You just nod along, creating an awkward atmosphere. You kick yourself for not laughing at her joke. Continuing the massage, you move your way up her back, reaching her shoulder. You could feel the tension in them and increase your strength as you began to massage all the knots out. Ningning groans as she feels your hands dig into her shoulders and release the tension in them. “Ooh, that feels so good.” You focus your efforts on Ningning shoulders, and once they relax, you take a step back.
“I’ll be moving down now.”
“That’s fine,” Ningning moans as she places her head on top of her hands. You move the towel up slightly, keeping her ass covered as you begin to work on her thighs. As you ran your hands across them, you could feel the toned muscles underneath. Working on the one nearest to you, you give her thigh a strong squeeze.
Feeling your hands move across her thighs, Ningning feels her body getting warmer. She used her hands to cover her mouth, struggling to keep her groans from filling the room. Your hands felt good; Ningning could feel a growing wetness between her legs as your finger brushed against the inside of her thigh. Her cheeks begin to turn red as you switch to the other side, starting the process over again. When you accidentally squeeze her thigh a bit too hard, Ningning couldn’t hide her moan—letting the long, smooth sound of her voice fill the room before catching herself. She buries her head in her hands, too embarrassed to look anywhere in the room. You try to ignore it and continue on.
Needing Ningning to turn onto her back, you finally speak up, “Ningning, I finished with your backside; I need you to turn over.”
“O-okay,” She turns herself over slowly, glancing your way. You began to massage her arms, and as you got to her shoulders, you noticed Ningning continually glancing at you. Nearing her chest, Ningning groaned again. She rubbed her legs together, growing more aroused as your hands glided along her body. Moving down to her legs, you noticed the wet spot between Ningning’s legs, and she knew it too.
You tried to ignore it, but Ningning continued to rub her legs together as you tried to massage her. “I…I’m sorry.”
“There’s no need to be sorry. We’ll just stop here.”
Ningning grabs your hand. “Wait!” She let go briefly before grabbing your hand again. “I-is there any other services you offer?” You understand what she means. Ningning’s voice grew smaller as she went on. “I mean, I see in videos that sometimes masseurs offer special services. Is that an option here?” You were about to reply when Ningning placed your hand on her breast. I can pay you. I-my body just feels really good when you touch it.”
You had to admit that Ningning was a beautiful woman that you’d be lucky to have sex with, and you considered your options. You look at the clock on the wall; half an hour has passed. Knowing your friend, he’d likely be going for seconds right about now and want to take his time getting back. “Alright.” Ningning gives you a soft smile and lets go of your hand. You place it over her slit, the briefs she was wearing keeping your away. Still, it was enough to make her groan. Like the bra provided, the briefs were meant to keep customers more comfortable. Ningning stares at you with lustful eyes as she squirms on the table. You snake your hand under the briefs and drench your fingers in her nectar as you slide your hands along her slit. Feeling your fingers touch her sends Ningning over the edge; you watch her toes curls and eyes shut as she cums at that moment. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time,” She mumbles.
“I…figured.” You reply as you begin pulling down the briefs. Ningning covered her face, her shyness taking over. You turn her body towards you before dropping your pants. Ningning’s eyes become glued to your growing bulge. “It’s not polite to stare.”
“It just looks so big.” Her comment makes you chuckle. You pull down your underwear, revealing your cock to the young woman. She reaches toward it without uttering a word; you feel her soft hand wrap around the tip. “It’s so warm…”
“So you’ve used toys?”
“...yes,” She says shamefully.
“It’s natural, Ningning. No need to be ashamed, but let’s see how the real thing compares.” You tell her as you take a step forward and rub the tip of your cock against her slit. Ningning whimpers and stares at your cock as it runs along her cunt. You lean in, kissing her neck softly as you push your head against her cunt. She wraps her arms around you, holding you closely as she begins to fill the room with her moans. You feel her walls squeezing your cock as you push inside of her.
“Ahh, hold on,” Ningning moans, her hands gripping your shirt. You stop moving, giving her time to adjust. You pepper her with kisses as you wait, softly squeezing her body. “You can move now.”
You push more of your cock into Ningning, watching her expression carefully. You see her shut her eyes and moan as you bury yourself inside her. Her walls are tightly wrapped around your cock, rubbing against the head. You begin thrusting slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her in place. Each thrust brings out more moans from Ningning.
The small woman holds you tightly, wrapping her legs around you as you thrust deeply into her. You could feel Ningning’s walls tighten around your cock, as she neared another climax. “I’m cumming again,” She whimpered. “I’m going to cum.”
You speed up your thrusts, making her cry out from pleasure. You feel her thighs squeeze your sides as she cums. You continue thrusting into Ningning, making her let out a high-pitched whine. Each one was driving her crazy as you overstimulate her. You force your tongue into her mouth as her eyes roll into the back of her head.
Ningning’s arms lose strength. Falling onto her back, Ningning lets out weak moans. You revel in the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock. When you feel your orgasm coming, you begin to slow down. You pull out entirely and turn Ningning onto her stomach. You press your cock against her cunt, holding onto her waist with one hand. You ram the length of your cock back inside the petite woman, slipping in with ease. As you drive your cock in and out of Ningning, you watch her ass bounce as it slaps against your body. “You’re so tight, Ningning. I’m getting pretty close to cumming.”
“Cum…” Ningning mumbles as her head bobs with every thrust. You feel yourself getting closer. Your hands dig into Ningning’s flesh.
“Where do you want it?” You ask as you ram your cock deep into her cunt. Ningning doesn’t respond to the question, only repeating the word cum. You make the quick decision to pull out, knowing it would only cause trouble if she got pregnant. You pull out at the last moment, painting her back as you spurt cum onto her. Ningning feels the warm cum hit her back, groaning as her mind slowly returns to her.
You check the clock; your friend should be back in a few minutes. You grab a few towels and wipe the cum off Ningning's back. “Your manager is going to be coming back soon. You better get changed.”
“Manager?” Ningning slowly blinks as she realizes. He’ll be coming back soon. She struggles to stand up, and you’re forced to help her get into the changing room while you clean up. You wait by the entrance for her manager to show up, and soon enough, he appears.
“I’m back.” He says with a burp. “Where’s Ningning?”
“You really didn’t hold back on eating, did ya? Did you get me anything?”
“Uh, no, sorry.” Ningning steps out of the changing room looking like she did when she first stepped foot inside, the only difference being her slightly frazzled hair. “Oh, there you are.”
“Sorry for the wait. I struggled with the heels.”
“That’s okay. Let’s get you back to the dorms. Thanks for dealing with her.” Ningning nods her head and follows her manager out the door, picking up a business card before giving you a wink and leaving.
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ENHYPEN REACTION: you not wearing panties to sleep
PAIRING: enhypen hyung line x fem!reader
GENRE/CW: smut, fwb!hee, bf!jay, perv!jake, ex!hoon, somnophilia, cnc
WC: 1.5k words
WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni
LEE HEESEUNG
As much as Heeseung knows you’re comfortable around him, he’s never truly expected you to be carefree enough to go to bed without your panties on, especially one day after you had drunkenly confessed how you wanted him to use you even during your sleep, without having to ask you for consent every time. Maybe that’s what you expected him to do—to use you.
Heeseung, despite being shocked, was thoroughly enjoying the sight in front of him, being best friends with benefits had its perks it seems. Your delicate night slip had ridden up, revealing your ass to him, and he didn’t shy away from getting on the bed, observing your peaceful expression as you slept before he gently turned you a little, making sure you rested on your back.
With your pussy right in front of his face, he couldn’t control himself any longer, bending down a little and parting your legs, pathetically resting his cheek against your inner thighs before giving your clit the softest of the kisses, looking up to make sure you hadn’t woken up. When he didn’t see any signs of movement, he started kissing and licking your pussy all over, his hot breath and needy strokes on your cunt had you breathing hard, even in your sleep.
He didn’t care anymore. Your pussy was like alcohol to him, ever so addicting, and he found himself trying to hump the bed while thrusting his tongue inside your hole, making you stir in your sleep. His thumb brushed over your delicate folds, stimulating your clit further, which was your breaking point as you woke up with a gasp, “Hee—” you cried out, and he pulled back.
“You wore this for me, didn’t you, baby? A thin slip with nothing inside, so I could fuck you when you sleep, hm?” He chuckled, pulling you into a rushed kiss the second you moaned out a yes.
He couldn’t wait to ruin you, filling your whole the entire night, since you were being such a needy little doll for him.
✎
PARK JONGSEONG
Jay didn’t expect to see you asleep in his bed, given that you’re one to stay up till late, however that was least of his concerns at the moment. “Fuck,” he cussed, looking at your bare pussy which was on display for him as you wore nothing but his T-shirt to sleep. He knew it wasn’t right to stare at you while you were asleep but was it too wrong? Granted that you did belong to him.
Moreover, it seemed as if you were having one of those dreams. Your quiet whimpers and the wetness of your cunt was enough proof of that, “J—jay,” you moaned out, trying to rub your thighs in your sleep and the sight was enough for Jay to gulp down his thoughts, getting rid of his tie and shirt before getting in the bed with you.
You were dreaming about him.
He was gentle when he gave your tits a light squeeze over the T-shirt you had worn, two of his fingers caressing your pussy to collect your wetness, which he immediately put in his mouth, groaning at the taste and in need of wanting more of you. He was quick to wrap his lips around your clit, sucking on it while coating his fingers with your arousal again, only to push them inside your clenching hole, which made you gasp, your sleep not fully broken yet.
“So fucking pretty, dreaming about me like that,” Jay muttered, stretching you out with his fingers for a few minutes, closely observing your expressions as you were on the verge of waking up. He didn’t waste more time, rushing to get his pants off and pumping his cock a few times before pushing the tip inside—your eyes opening that very second as you moaned at the sight, registering that Jay was, indeed, fucking you.
“Please—more,” you whimpered, your nails digging in the flesh of his shoulders as he happily obliged.
“Dreaming about me, angel? Oh, I’ll give you something to dream about alright.”
✎
SIM JAEYUN
Jake loved to watch you from a distance, no matter how he tried to hide it, it was more than obvious to you—his roommate. It wasn’t that you minded it, rather, you were flattered, given that Jake was a pretty looking guy who tried to mind his manners around you, the keyword being tried.
The lust always took over him despite him trying not to stare at you. It was hard because you loved to parade around the shared apartment in your shorts which did nothing to hide your body from him, resulting in him getting a boner and jerking off silently in the bathroom.
However, if he was a pervert then you were only the fuel that made him wanna go even crazier. Which is why you didn’t bother wearing panties or anything underneath your night slip, which was almost transparent if not for the pinkish shade it had, just to see him go even wilder and hopefully, gather confidence to do something about his hardened cock.
When he saw you on the couch after coming back home, he gasped, stepping back and looking around, wondering if he was dreaming because why else would you be in front of him like that, “oh—fuck,” he muttered, gulping down and coming close to your sleeping figure, waving his hand in front of your face to confirm that you were, indeed, deep in sleep.
His cock was hardening in his pants already as he licked his lips, getting down on his knees to sniff loudly, getting lost in your scent like a madman, “you’re so pretty, baby,” he mumbled, his wet lips placing a sloppy kiss on your inner thigh before moving upwards, making space for himself between your thighs as he started kissing and sucking on your clit, humming at the taste of what he had wanted for ages.
“Fuck,” he moaned, one hand going down to squeeze his hardened cock before he stopped, getting rid of his sweatpants and coming closer to your parted lips, rubbing the tip of his cock against your lips, whining as he started pushing his length in, waking you up as you choked around his cock, processing that he actually got the confidence to touch you today. You pushed him back before grabbing his T-shirt, mumbling close to his dazed face.
“I knew you were a sick ass perv, Jakey,” you smiled sweetly and he groaned, loving the way you degraded him, “I’ll have to teach you a lesson now,” you smirked, making him cry as you rode his cock before riding his face, making him the happiest man alive.
✎
PARK SUNGHOON
Sunghoon didn’t expect you, his ex, to show up at his apartment just one week after the messy breakup you’ve been through, to collect your leftover stuff from him, of course. However, you didn’t check the weather forecast and ended up getting drenched in the rain as you ran from your car to his apartment, which only turned worse as the rain grew into a storm, which wasn’t safe for driving or walking, meaning—you had to stay over at Hoon’s place for the night.
He looked your way with nothing but need in his eyes, the need to have you back in his life, the need to kiss you when you wore his T-shirt after a shower. Wearing your wet underwear was out of question, as you got under the covers awkwardly, “thank you for letting me stay,” you whispered, not looking his way, and he only came closer, his warm breath fanning your neck, “I’ll always let you stay, kitten,” he mumbled and you closed your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth that bloomed up in your lower abdomen.
The whole situation was as messed up for Hoon as you. He had a hard time controlling himself, especially when you squirmed in your sleep, pressing your warm body to his. He needed you back, he wanted to get your taste one last time if not more, so he said ‘fuck it’ and pulled down the blanket, kneading your thighs gently at first, “missed you so much, kitten,” he whispered, kissing your clavicle gently before going down, lifting up his T-shirt to find your bare pussy.
“Fuck! It looks like you missed me too, baby,” he chuckled, seeing your glistening pussy, dipping his fingers to coat them with your wetness before rubbing small circles over your hole, easing his fingers in to fill you up, his lips latched to your clit as you stirred in your sleep, on the verge of waking up now while also trying to notice your expressions, trying to memorize it all.
The second you wake up, all confused and aroused, he chuckles, “go back to sleep, kitten, let me take care of your dripping pussy, okay?” He said softly, lust taking over your senses as you watched his messy hair, lips coated with your juices.
“Hoonie,” you whimper, and he comes up to kiss you, “missed you so much, my kitten,” he mumbled between your rushed kiss and you let him take over, letting him in your life once again and forever.
© jaylaxies | tumblr
#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#jake smut#heeseung smut#jay smut#sunghoon smut#kpop smut#enhypen reactions
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Woke up, first thing I did was see your response to my request! I love it! You have done well in spreading the Jamil L/N agenda.
Here is my next request: a confession/proposal scenario.
Reader confesses, Jamil tries rejecting them but reader knows him too well and asks for the real reason. Cue his usual "you deserve better than a servant" & "I don't want to trap you in a life of servanthood". Reader, completely unfazed, just goes "then just marry into my family". Cue blushy Jamil cause he somehow got a confession and a proposal all at once. Before he can overthink Kalim just busts through the door going "YES! I'LL PAY FOR IT!" (he was eavesdropping).
💞 — in which jamil rejects you and then rethinks it.
💞 — jamil viper x reader
💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort vibes, metaphor of burning skin on sand used
💞 — around 750 words. im obsessed with jamil taking his lover's last name to escape servitude. so sorry this took sooooo long!! im getting to requests and asks asap <3
“No.” You did not even get the chance to complete your confession before he suddenly hit you with a rejection. A cold rejection at that. You recoiled, pulling your offering with you, and your brows furrowed. “You didn’t even let me fin—” Jamil sighed, seeming exasperated with you, “It’s so obvious what you’re about to say,” he tells you, before turning around, his long dark hair following him and swaying. To be fair, you were quite obvious. He could see exactly what you were about to do. He had noticed the way you had been looking at him lately. If you were not talking to him, you were gazing at him longingly somewhere in the corner instead of paying attention to what Grim or Ace was saying. You made it even more obvious with how you showed up, bearing gifts in your hands and constantly touching up your appearance. If he were anyone else, he would have reassured you that you looked amazing instead of just rejecting you before you could say a word. Before he could walk away, you grabbed his wrist. Perhaps you were suddenly possessed with the confidence of the Red Queen, or maybe you were just stupid, but you did it and now had to deal with it, “At least tell me why,” you pleaded.
His heart broke a little when he heard the tremble of your voice. You bit the inside of your lip to keep anything else from escaping. This was the last thing you wanted to happen. Your fingers slipped away from his wrist and you averted your gaze in embarrassment. “I’d never have any time for you,” he said, simply, keeping his head turned away from you, “I’m very busy taking care of Kalim as is… it would be dhulm (cruel) to do that to you,” he added. That was the last thing he wanted to say. He knew this confession was coming for a while and prepared himself to reject you from the first time he felt your lingering gaze. What he wanted to say was that he wanted you to. Jamil would have used his bare hands to dig through layers of scalding desert sands for just a sip of what your love could have been like. He would have worn the burn scars like a trophy—a testament to his love and devotion. Instead, he said no. Before you could speak, he held a hand up to silence you, “I can’t give you the life that you want to live. You’d be bound to servitude for just being mine.” He loved the thought of that. Being able to call you his was a dream, and it would stay a dream. When his blood was spilled, it did not hold even a bit of value, and he could not bind you to him and make your blood as worthless as his. There would be no ceremonies when he died, no pretty tombstones, and few people who would care enough to attend. He did not have it in him to make that your fate as well. You stared at him in disbelief, your nose scrunching up slightly as you grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. It was a forceful tug, causing him to stumble forward a bit, and you took your chance, pressing your forehead to his. Those eyes of yours were piercing and determined. “Marry into my family. Take my last name, and Viper servitude would be a thing of the past.” His hands were suddenly torn out of the scalding sands which burned them. He stared at you in pure shock, a blush rising from his neck, to his ears and finally painting his pretty brown cheeks. His brows were knitted—the words dared not to spill out of his lips. “H–Huh… wait—you can’t be—” Before he could speak, Kalim barged in with a wide grin on his lips, throwing himself against you and Jamil and tugging you both close in a hug, “I’ll pay for it! It will be the most grand occasion! We’ll even dress up the camels—” As Kalim rambled, Jamil looked over at your pretty, smiling face. You were laughing at Kalim’s words and planning the occasion along with him, as if you would be married tomorrow and not years from now. His gaze softened, and when your eyes met his, you knew he accepted your confession. Finally, he could let someone mend the burns the sand left on his palms.
#💖 — amoris writes#twisted wonderland#twst x reader#jamil viper#twisted wonderland x reader#jamil viper x reader#jamil x reader#twst headcanons
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nsfw ੈ✩‧₊˚ mdni
'𝐢 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭.'
𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳
after reid mentioned he'd been to a kink club for an investigation, you just couldn't stop your curiosity and decided to look into it. when he comes home and finds you with your research, he decided that the best way to learn about something is to experience it yourself...
wc: 2.6k
content & tw: smut, literally all of this is just smut, dom!reid, sub!reader, kink, crawling, degrading, spanking, face smacking, spit, head pushing, restricting movements, name calling (whore, slut), unprotected piv (stay safe out there), let me know if i missed any!!
a/n: this is not proofread!!! and also i take requests!! please send them via my asks :))
it was late already, and you hadn't expected spencer to come home today. he had texted you that he was going to new york this morning, and you hadn't heard a lot from him since. you missed him, of course, but this was his job, and it only made the time you did spend with him more special.
it had been a week since spencer had come home, slightly flustered when you asked him about his day. he had told you he had to go to a kink club for an investigation, and morgan teased him the entire afternoon, but there was a certain excitement in his eyes as he talked about it. when you asked him about it, he had kissed your forehead and said, 'oh, nevermind, baby. you're far too much of a good girl for all of that stuff.'
his dismissal only interested you more, and you knew damn well that he knew that, so when you figured you had the evening to yourself, you got out a nice glass of red wine and your laptop and decided to do some research. you didn't know what you expected to find, but you definitely didn't expect it to intrigue you as much as it did.
when you came back to the living room after a quick bathroom break, you nearly had a heart attack as you spotted spencer on the couch, your glass of wine in his hand and his eyes fixed on your laptop. 'jesus, spencer! i didn't think you'd come home tonight,' you said, but he didn't even look your way. when you looked at your laptop screen, you noticed he had found not only your 12 open tabs about different kinks, but also the document in which you had been collecting your thoughts.
'choking, yes. spanking, yes. name calling, yes. degradation, yes in all caps... what an interesting list you've made here, my love,' he said in a dark, soft voice. you felt your cheeks redden quickly. 'you weren't meant to see that,' you said, your usually confident demeanor now reduced to that of a small child in trouble.
'oh, but this teaches me so much about you,' spencer said, finally turning around to look at you. he looks like it's been a long day for him, his hair is a mess, but his eyes are dark and there is an undeniable hunger in them.
he had only mentioned four things on the list, but with how fast this man reads, you know he had read everything. from how you want to be smacked in the face, spit on, worship him at his feet, be marked by him, orgasm denial and all the other fucked up things you came across that made you wet just imagining it.
'come over here, princess,' he says as he pats his leg. you feel butterflies in your lower stomach, a mix of nerves and excitement. you do as you're told and walk over to him, sitting down on his lap. he tilts his head up to look at you, one arm holding you at your back, his other hand resting on your thigh, exposed underneath your pyjama shorts. the skin-to-skin contact sending an instant shiver down your spine.
'so, you want to try those things out? do you baby?' spencer asks, his hand tracing circles on your thigh. you nod at him, your curiosity spiked at the sight of this new side of him.
he digs his fingers into your thigh, making you jump. 'use your words, darling. i need to hear you say it,' spencer says, releasing his grip on your thigh. 'so, let me ask you again. you want to try those things?'
'yes, sir,' you reply, the corners of his mouth lifting at the way you address him. 'good girl...' he says, 'you'd like me to be rough with you? hmm?' his hand trails up your body, from your thigh, via your stomach, up to your chest, slowly higher and higher.
'yes, sir. i'd like that very much,' you say, your body reacting to every soft touch of his hand on your skin. he moves the hand supporting you to the back of your neck and closes the distance between your faces. you can feel his breath on your skin, and your heart beats so loud you're afraid he might hear it.
'yeah? you wanna be treated like a little whore? a dirty cumslut, only for my pleasure? all for me to use?' he says, every husky word, the deep vibrations of his voice, sending tingles straight to your stomach.
you nod before quickly correcting yourself. 'yes, sir,' you say, and before you know it, his hand has moved from your chest to your throat, cutting of your airways. 'awh, baby. i'm not sure if you can take it...' spencer says in a teasing voice.
'i- i ca-' you try to speak, but the lack of breath makes it awfully difficult. his hand only tightens, 'speak!' he says in a booming voice. with all your might and determination, you manage to get the words out. 'i can take it, sir,' you say, your voice choked off and hoarse, but the second the words leave your lips, his hand releases.
'such an obedient little slut... let's see what else you can do,' spencer says as he puts you down on the floor and stands up. when you move to get on your feet, he puts his hand on the top of your head and tsks. 'you don't get to walk, pet. crawl,' he demands. he turns around and walks to the bedroom. you do as your told, crawling after him on hands and knees, but his long strides are far faster than you.
by the time you make it to the bedroom, he is sat on the edge of the bed, lazily leaned back on his elbows, top buttons of his blouse undone, his jeans and black boots still on. you look him dead in the eye as you crawl to him, sitting down on the floor with your hands on your knees when you reach him. he reaches down and puts his hand on your cheek, stroking your cheek lovingly. 'what a beautiful sight... my obedient whore, all i have to do is ask, right?'
you nod again, and before you can correct yourself with words, the hand so lovingly caressing your cheek leaves and comes back, smacking your cheek. you're slightly taken aback, but quickly move your head back to look him in the eye. 'yes, sir. i'm all yours,' you say confidently.
he lets out a satisfied hum, putting his hand back on your cheek and putting his thumb on your lower lip. 'open,' he commands, and you do as you're told. he presses his thumb into your mouth, sliding it over your tongue. 'wider, wider...' he tells you as he presses the digit further into the back of your mouth. you gag, but don't pull back, making him smirk. 'good girl... you like having that big mouth of yours filled, don't you?' he asks. 'yes, sir,' you try to say, his thumb in your mouth making it slightly difficult.
'good... then i think it's time to use my little slut for what she's useful for. my pleasure,' he says, undoing his belt and jeans with one hand, the other one still keeping your mouth occupied. when he frees his already rock hard cock from your his underwear, he pulls you towards it by your cheek.
he removes his finger from your mouth and you greedily want to immediately put your mouth on him, but he moves his hand to the back of your head, grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls your head back, making you look up at him. 'if at any point you can't take it anymore, you tap anywhere twice and we stop immediately, got it?' he asks, a sudden seriousness in his expression.
'i got it, sir, but i promise i can take it,' you say with a sly smile. he raises one eyebrow and says 'we'll see about that,' before wasting no time, using the hold he has on your hair to push your head down, pushing his cock deep into your throat. you gag, tears filling your eyes and drool falling down the sides of your mouth.
spencer groans loudly, 'still sure you can take it?' he asks. you're not sure how to respond, not able to speak, coughing softly at the feeling of his tip touching the back of your throat.
'not tapping out yet? good, i'm just getting started, princess,' he says before pulling your head up by your hair and down again. the aggression makes you wetter than you've ever been before. not having to think about what you have to do, how you have to move, it's almost freeing in a way.
spencer groans loudly as he uses your mouth for his own pleasure, his breathing getting faster and faster, and you take everything he gives you. every tug on your hair and every drop of drool makes you feel almost proud.
'good little slut, fuck, you take it so well,' he says, his voice husky and deep. as his pre-cum coats your tongue, you feel his cock grow harder and harder in your mouth, and when you think he's about to cum, he pulls your hair up and away from him. you take a deep breath, tears in your eyes and spilling from them, your face red.
spencer looks at you with a satisfied grin. 'i love it when my whore works so hard for me,' he says before looking down at his boots, 'but look at the mess you've made...'
you look down to see what he's talking about. several drops of drool have fallen onto his boots, shining trails on the black leather. spencer tightens his grip on your hair, pulling your face upwards. 'i don't like messes,' he says before spitting in your face. you're slightly taken aback, but love it more than you feel like you should.
'i'm sorry, sir,' you say, puppy dog eyes looking up at him. 'well, sorry doesn't fix anything, does it now, slut? clean it up,' he says as he pushes your head down towards his boots, releasing your hair. you catch yourself on your hands, and remember the 'boot worship' on the list.
determined to be a good girl, you stick out your tongue and lick his boots clean, until every single drop of your spit is gone. spencer moans at the sight. 'fucking hell, that's beautiful,' you hear him say from above you. he leans forward, putting one hand on your ass, the other one between your legs, his fingers slowly moving thru your soaking wet folds.
you let out a soft moan at the contact, making him laugh. 'awh, look at that. my slut is already soaked for me... fuck, it's pathetic how badly you want me,' he says before standing up. you stay in your position, on your knees with your head low to the ground.
you don't dare to look at him, he hasn't told you that you could, but you hear the distinct sound of shoelaces being undone, heavy boots being removed and then clothing hitting the floor.
spencer gets on his knees behind you, lining the head of his cock up with your entrance, but before he moves inside you he bends down towards your face. 'open,' he says, and you follow his command, opening your mouth. he shoves a piece of black fabric, his underwear, into your mouth before grabbing both of your wrists and holding them in place at your lower back.
he teases you for what feels like an eternity, moving the tip of his cock thru your wetness, laughing at your whimpers. 'such a needy whore...' he says before, without any warning, slamming himself balls deep into you. you let out a loud moan, feeling him so deep inside you so suddenly.
'fuck, princess, you're so fucking wet, i could just slide right in... i guess that's what dirty sluts are like, always wet and ready to be used,' he says before settling into a fast and harsh pace. the position you're in causes him to fill you up so deeply, hitting your g-spot with every punishing stroke. you moan loudly around the fabric of his underwear, approaching climax faster than ever before.
as you feel your muscles clench, just seconds away from your orgasm, spencer pulls out of you, a harsh smack of his palm landing on your ass. 'did i say you could cum, slut? i don't remember giving you permission for that,' he says, another smack landing on your skin.
he bends down towards your face, pulling the fabric from your mouth. 'you don't cum unless i say you can cum. unless you beg for my mercy and you barely remember your own name. is that clear, little slut?' he asks you.
'yes, sir. i promise,' you moan. 'good,' he replies, lining himself up with your entrance once more. 'i wanna hear you, princess. tell me how good it feels to be used by me,' he says before returning to the same fast, hard and punishing thrusts.
your body is immediately back in high alert, your orgasm being so close you can almost taste it, but you do everything in your power to keep it at bay.
'fuck, sir. it feels so good... so full,' you whimper underneath spencer, your wrists still in his grip. 'i know, princess, but you wanna obey me right?' he asks, not once straying away from his tempo.
'i do, sir, i really do, but i wanna cum so bad... please, sir, so... so full... so much,' you say, losing control of your words. he wasn't kidding when he said he'd make you forget your own name.
spencers breathing becomes ragged and faster, his thrusts becoming more and more erratic and frenzied. every hit to your g-spot makes you closer and closer to tumbling over the edge, but you do everything you can to obey him.
when you feel spencer growing stiffer behind you, he finally releases you from your torment. 'cum for me, princess, you have my permission,' he says, and it's like a dam breaks inside of you. you moan loudly, and if you weren't so dick-drunk you'd probably worry about the neighbors getting worried.
as your muscles clench around him, spencer spills inside of you, and you take every single drop. after a few more thrusts, he stills, letting out a deep breath. he pulls out of you, and you immediately grieve the loss of full-ness.
he picks you up and kisses your forehead. 'you did so good, princess. so, so good for me,' he says before pulling back the covers from the bed and laying down with you, keeping you close and softly stroking your hair. the switch from dominant and ruthless to kind and caring is sudden, but very welcome.
'so, was that about what you expected?' he asks in between soft kisses on your cheeks, shoulders and collarbones, not once letting you out of his safe and comforting arms.
'even better, sir,' you say teasingly, 'let's do this again sometime.'
spencer smirks before claiming your lips with a soft but passionate kiss. 'that sounds like a great plan, princess.'
#writinggaia#dom!reid#sub!reader#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#cm#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid fic#spencer reid smut
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Rin Itoshi x f!reader with the trope
"he probably hates me" x "i love you so much"
AHHHH OMG IM SO SO SORRY FOR POSTING THIS LATE, MY SCHOOL STARTED AT JULY 22, AND MY EXAMS OMG D:
The only sun i'll ever need...
Summary : "I love you Reader... i don't know what to do without you" said rin You paused for a moment then answering "I thought you were gonna break up with me, didn't you Hate me...?"
Did i take inspo from tiktok and a few mental breakdowns i got? yes.
Reader is has a lot of insecurities, Rin x reader, popular x normal, this is for my insecure girlies out there (just so ya'k you are perfect<3)
Credits to the owners of the dividers and pictures! this fanfic style is from @chateaaa
HEY IT'S ME THE CREATOR I JUST GOT DONE AND FOUND OUT THAT MY MOOT ALSO HAS THE SAME REQUEST SO THAT'S INTERESTING <3
Everyday it seems like the media is out to get you ever since yours and rin's romantic relationship got exposed by the paparazzi's. You see your comments from posts you made years ago flooding with hate from his crazy fan-girls.
You were too terrified to communicate this massive issue with rin, and before you could process it. Time and time again it had already escalated, you dig a hole so deep that not even you who created the pit was able to get out.
it seems like every single day of your life hate keeps appearing. You can't even looks yourself in the mirror without breaking down from the comments.
your acne...
your body hair...
your looks...
even your figure was severely criticise...
It doesn't help that influences seems to catch up of the topic and starts also joining in. The more you scroll, the less you loved yourself you even notice rin getting quite distance in these couple weeks.
He doesn't start conversations anymore, doesn't stay long for cuddles, and is always on his phone... every time he does that it feels like a knife pierce your heart.
Overall your mental health is slowly deteriorating, you did try to stay strong even going as far as to publicly telling them to stop harassing you... but it just stopped for a couple days then it continued.
"(reader)?"
"(reader) (reader)!?"
You woke up in a cold sweat, frantically looking side to side just to find your lover sleeping right next to you facing the other direction. These vivid dreams keeps appearing of you committing suicide and rin's exact reaction.
It has changed... at every end of the dream might as well call it nightmare, rin calls out your name before you've committed it but this time it doesn't even show up.
You couldn't grasp the situation you dug yourself in, staring blankly at the white wall you can't sleep at this point too scared to face that nightmare.
You wanted to cuddle rin and tell him your problem, you quickly dropped that since rin was probably too busy...
With this you suffered alone, the sadness eating you so painfully and so slowly that you just wanted to end it.
...
"Oh, (reader)...?" rin called out to you, he was just woken up and was clearly very concern for you.
You haven't noticed this, but you were just blankly staring at a wall moving motionless.
"(Reader), are you okay...? you know you can talk to me" rin said trying to comfort you in the best way he can.
Feeling quite ashamed, you gave a small nod and assured him that you were okay.
TO. BE. CONTINUED
#bllk#blue lock#bllk fluff#blue lock fluff#bllk x you#blue lock x you#bllk x reader#itoshi rin#rin x reader#itoshi rin x reader#rin itoshi#bllk rin#rin itoshi x reader#angst#insecurities
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Sweet Dreams Are Made Of These
Summary: Five can't keep from dreaming about you, much to his annoyance Pairings: Five Hargreeves x Fem! Reader Tw: Yandere, Mean! Five, Fluff
Five hasn't been able to sleep lately, because his mind was consumed with thoughts of a woman he didn't like. He'd rather never sleep again than even dream of her for a second. He didn't know why she was taking up his mind; Maybe it was some kind of curse? Yes, she was doing something to him and he didn't like it. No- no, he didn't.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, his mind racing with her. He groaned, gripping his hair, his nails digging into his scalp. He rubs his temple, before stretching his face and sitting up. He rubbed his jaw, his mind wandering back to the subject of his dreams; Which only caused his anger to rise.
He fell onto his bed, his arms stretched out. You were in the next room, so he could easily solve his problem, but he was much to prideful to ever even admit he had any kind of positive feelings for you.
He heard some noises outside of his door and decided to investigate. He peaked out the door to see you standing there. You sighed in relief, as you leaned on his door.
"Thank god you're awake. I can't sleep and I knew you'd probably be awake."
"And why would I want to be with you?"
"When have I ever let your asshole mood stop me from worming into your life?"
"It's one of the many things I hate about you."
"I know that's not true."
You were right, but he would never admit that. Not to himself and never to you.
"I think you just say that to keep up your 'douche-bag, I don't care, loner boy' persona. But, that's not why I came here."
"Oh? I thought you love reading people, even if you're wrong."
"Well, I came to see you, because believe it or not, I do like you."
"Why?"
"What?" You look at him, confused.
He doesn't look at you, instead opting to look at his hands, "Why do you like me?"
"Um... Well-" You let out a chuckle. "You're really smart. You act like you don't care, but I know deep down you would do anything for the people you care about... Um... what else?" Your eyes scan the ceiling before your eyes widen and you look towards him, "Oh! Sometimes you're attractive, especially covered in blood."
He finally looks at you, an unknown emotion swarming in his eyes, "Yeah?"
"Yeah." You smile, "But I really like you for you. You know? There's no one else I'd rather spend the end of the world with."
He smiles, but it quickly goes away, "So... What did you want?"
"Oh, right. The dreams..."
"Right." He doesn't need you to continue. Unlike his dreams that were filled with you and a happy life with you, yours were filled with destruction, blood, death; In other words the future. Your mind couldn't get off of the end of the world. "Do you want to stay in here with me? I'll watch you and wake you up if it looks like you're having nightmare."
"I don't want you to watch me sleep. I just wanted to.... I don't know."
"You don't know what you want?"
"No, that's not what I mean. I just... I wanted to be near you." You look down at your hands, before looking at him, "Because believe it or not, I really like you."
"Well, it's a good thing I really like you, too."
"I know, Five. I know."
#number 5#umbrella academy#five hargreeves#five hargreeves x reader#five x reader#yandere number 5#number 5 x reader#yandere five hargreeves x reader#yandere five hargreeves#yandere five x reader#slasher#horror#yandere the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy x reader#tua#tua x reader#yandere tua x reader#yandere tua#tua fanfic#tua five
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poison in my mind
PAIRING: idol!jisung x afab older stylist reader
WORD COUNT: 5.8k
SUMMARY: he has been your poison for years - Jisung with his innocent looking face, steely gaze, and wicked tongue. you do your best to keep a professional relationship with him during your work as a stylist for NCT Dream but his calls of "Noona" on set continue to test your patience.
AUTHOR NOTE: A VERY belated happy birthday to Andy Park and a big thank you to SM for letting us have that Poison live performance at the end of the year. This has been half written ever since the Poison track video behind vlog went up a million years ago but fueled even more by the dance intro at MMA. His more recent lives may have also served as inspiration. I hope you all enjoy this very self indulgent fic made especially for all my friends who also love Jisung <3
WARNINGS: explicit smut, idolverse, pet names (including Noona kink I'm so sorry)
PLAYLIST: Poison by NCT Dream, Quiet Down by NCT Dream, OK! by NCT U
dreaming 'bout you, dreaming 'bout you
~~ The set is buzzing with nervous energy in the dimly lit space, dark blue light cascading over the stage area dressed with large floral arrangements that almost make it look like the ocean floor. Renjun is talking to the camera filming their behind vlog footage and you look up from the shirt you are steaming when you hear his voice.
“Dream will try for the sexy vibe for the first time,” with a sly smirk.
You can’t help but chuckle as the makeup artist next to you elbows your side and you tut at her, waving the steamer to quiet her. It wasn’t a secret that the Poison track video was going to be beloved by fans because of the concept and the way the members were styled. You had been tasked with pulling some of the key looks for the video, taking an opportunity to incorporate different textures like the metal grommets and fringe on the leather jacket Renjun currently was wearing. You watch proudly as he stretches his arms over his head in the center of the flowers, torso muscles rippling under the sheer mesh shirt.
You hadn’t been on staff for very long, a couple years of working under the main stylist under your belt. They had been hesitant to give you bigger opportunities due to your young age and lack of experience, but your boss saw that you had a great eye. It didn’t hurt that you were always the first one to volunteer for less than desirable tasks and always arrived early to shoots and stayed late.
“Sorry, this one’s a little too small, did you have others?” comes a voice behind you and you turn to see Mark, holding out one of the large metal rings you had laid out for him in his dressing room.
“Oh sorry, yes, of course,” you reply, smiling softly at him before kneeling down to dig in your bag for the small pouch holding the extra accessories. He was always so polite to the staff, greeting everyone and even when he was clearly exhausted, doing as many takes as the director needed.
“This one might work better and it’s adjustable,” you reply, taking his hand and sliding the ring on his pointer finger. You squeeze his hand gently before he inspects the rings, holding it out in front of him.
“Noona,” comes a harsh and low voice suddenly, causing you to move your head to the side of Mark’s leather clad legs to see an annoyed looking Jisung with crossed arms, shirtless and barefoot.
“Jisung, where is your shirt?” Mark replies, half laughing as he turns to face him, scratching at the back of his neck.
Ignoring him, Jisung returns his gaze to you and glares at your crouched position on the floor in front of Mark. A curious Renjun walks up at this moment, peeling a tangerine and flicking narrowed eyes between the three of you. Mark shrugs at him before walking away, answering a message on his phone.
“You tailored the crotch of these pants wrong, it feels weird,” Jisung continues, voice even and tinged with frustration.
Your face flushes at this, dropping the pouch back in your bag and grabbing your pins, suddenly on your feet and in front of Jisung.
“How do you know it’s wrong?” you ask, knitting your brows together as you look up at him.
He looks good and you know he knows it. Something has shifted in Jisung in the past year - especially since they returned from tour. He carries himself differently, with a different level of confidence and wears it well. Today is no different and the fact that he just barged onto set without a shirt on is evidence. His dark blue hair is styled perfectly, long strands dangling in his eyes and contrasting beautifully with his sharp jawline.
“Here, feel,” he tells you simply, pulling your hand to his crotch and you almost let yourself palm him through the tight denim until you snap back to reality and pull your arm back. His eyes hold no emotion, dark and still, long eyelashes blinking at you temptingly. His lips are soft and plump and you want nothing more than to close the distance between the two of you and taste the glossy lip mask.
And there it is, your poison, Park Jisung. When you had graduated early from your program a few years ago, you had been focused on your career and hadn’t spent much time dating. You had some people you went out on dates with every once and a while and had your fair share of waking up in a stranger’s bed after a long night out. But Jisung had caught you by surprise. Something about the way he was so forward and aggressive with you made your brain turn to mush around him. Your heartbeat would quicken, palms sweat, and filthy thoughts would swirl in your mind until you could indulge in them with your hand pressed between your thighs later that night.
A heavy sigh comes from Renjun, accompanied by a shake of his head, as he walks out a nearby door muttering something about not wanting to see Jisung’s dick.
You flush violently, grabbing at Jisung’s bicep harshly and pulling him to his dressing room, leaving the door propped open intentionally as you take the layered black tank off the hanger and hold it out to him.
“Please put the rest of your outfit on, I think they are going to be ready for you soon,” you sigh as soon as you’re alone, reaching for the box that holds the platform boots you were reusing from a shoot with Haechan a couple months prior.
You both move silently as he pulls the shirt over his head, staring at the long leather cords before lifting his head back up to you. You move behind him, reaching over his broad shoulders to pull the leather cords around his neck and then letting the ends dangle in front of his toned chest. You try to avoid brushing your hands against his bare shoulders as he steps into the boots and ignore that his ass brushes against your stomach when he bends down slightly to zip them up.
“I just don’t know about these pants, are they the right length?” he asks, tugging at the material at his thighs. His tone is whining and defiant, lighter than how he was in front of everyone, but still slightly combative. He knows you’re weak for this very tone, as he can usually get you to do whatever he wants if he just adds it into whatever he says.
You sigh and move around him, dropping to your knees at his feet, slapping his hand away from pulling at the fabric. You pull the pants leg out of his left boot, pulling lightly and examining the hemline. You’re about to correct him when you suddenly feel his hand soft on your hair.
“You look so good from this angle,” he murmurs, voice low and sultry, causing you to jerk your head up and look at him from the floor.
Your lower lip is instantly caught in your teeth, sinking into the flesh deeply as you try to control your breathing, unable to stop yourself from blinking up at him. You feel drawn into his dark eyes and his hand in your hair is almost overwhelming.
He lets out a groan, tightening his fingertips on your scalp, exhaling audibly and clenching his other hand into a fist at his side.
“What am I going to do with you,” he tuts, dropping his hand to your chin and gripping it gently.
You rise from your knees, glancing at the open door just as Jaemin bounces by, screaming at something Haechan is doing. Suddenly aware of where you are, you step forward, adjusting the cords aimlessly.
“What happened to my sweet, innocent Jisung?” you whisper, staring at the soft skin of his collarbone and wishing you could press your lips against it forever.
“Don’t act surprised. You created this monster, Noona, dressing me in all these sexy outfits. How could you think I would stay your bright eyed baby Sungie forever?” he asks back, tucking loose strands of your hair behind your ear. His words are biting, even if they do hold some truth.
Memories of him dozing off on your shoulder during long bus rides and hastily helping him into heavy jackets and necklaces during quick changes on tour come flooding in, mixed with the heavy, lustful stares you feel on you when you wear a low cut shirt or on hot summer days in Thailand when you wore thin athletic shorts in the airport.
He had kissed your lips gently a year ago after many bottles of soju and when the rest of the members were preoccupied by endless rounds of karaoke. You had stopped him then, told him that as much as you wanted to, you couldn’t. Ever since that moment, he had made every effort to get you alone when he could, using every excuse under the sun, today’s outburst nothing new. You still remember how soft his lips felt on yours and the fire under your arm as he held you close after you rejected him.
Back on set, you’re packing up your bag again when you’re called over to check something on the computer from Jeno’s scenes. You give your feedback and suddenly your eyes are drawn up to where Jisung is filming, camera close to his face, light illuminating his beautiful features perfectly.
“Dreaming ‘bout you, dreaming ‘bout you,” echoes across the large soundstage and your heart is pounding in your chest as he plays with the cords at his neck, just as you had earlier, chests pressed up against each other in the dressing room. He makes eye contact with you briefly when the take ends and you look away quickly, embarrassed.
While you had been released to go for the day, you take your time packing the rest of your stuff, helping the makeup artists clean their station and even rearranging some chairs that barely needed adjustment. You watch the way he moves confidently, take after take, adjusting the jacket so his shoulders show boldly against the dark material. His fingers brush through the cords, pulling them up to his teeth at times before dropping them, leaving plump lips open before cracking a large smile at the reaction of the staff. In between takes he shakes his dark hair, casting his gaze down to the floor until someone asks him a question. You watch as he smiles and winks at the makeup artist powdering his cheek and you feel nervous energy stir in your stomach. You can’t bear to watch much more, so you slip out when he isn’t looking in your direction.
When you finally are home, feet pushed into fluffy slippers and sipping on steaming green tea you had just prepared, you peel the sheet mask off and rub the remaining serum into your cheeks and forehead. You are flipping through a magazine your coworker had given you on set, paying attention to the tabbed pages they had flagged for inspiration when your phone buzzes on the table next to you. A message from the head stylist fills your screen as you tap into it.
Jisung left his street shoes at set, did you take them home? He said he “needs them” for tomorrow.
You sigh and go to the shoebox by your door to find his Nike sneakers tucked neatly, laces wrapped nicely. You quickly reply to your boss, saying you don’t mind bringing them to the dorm since you know the managers had a late night meeting tonight. Running a brush through your hair, you dot some perfume on your wrists and behind your ear before grabbing your keys.
You fiddle with the edge of your oversized sweater in the elevator as you climb the floors to his dorm, feeling a nervous pit grow in your stomach. Finally outside, you knock quickly before dropping it down to hold the box with both hands.
The door swings open and Jisung is standing tall in front of you, grey sweatpants hanging low on his hips, hair damp. A dark zip-up hoodie covers his chest and it’s unzipped just enough that you can tell he isn’t wearing a shirt underneath. You can’t help but let your mind wander back to shirtless Jisung pulling your hand to his crotch earlier and wonder if he was just lounging in his room in the sweatpants. Or worse, just his boxers.
“Hi baby,” he slurs out, lips curving up at the edge into a mischievous smile as he props his arm up on the door, leaning down as if he might kiss you. His sweatshirt hikes up on his waist when he does this, revealing a large swath of skin.
You shove the box at him, pushing him back into the room with it, letting it drop into his hands. You fling your bag on the table near the door and step out of your shoes.
“Don’t hi baby me, Park Jisung. I know you left these there so you could see me tonight. Did it really take you multiple hours to realize you weren’t wearing the shoes you came in?” you reply with a huff, picking up a sealed water bottle on the kitchen counter and taking a long sip.
Sweat is pricking at your hairline and you are starting to regret not texting one of the assistant managers or drivers to come get the shoes instead.
Jisung chuckles and sets the shoebox on a chair, reaching out to take the water bottle from you and gulping down the rest.
“Don’t be mad, baby,” he replies, leaving heavy emphasis on the pet name, stepping closer to you and wrapping strong arms around your waist, thumbs instantly finding the hem of your sweater and travelling across your lower back.
You can’t help how your body reacts to his touch, feeling your chest meet his, nipples hardening under the knit fabric now tugged down and exposing your cleavage. Your breath catches in your throat as you try to speak, looking up at him through your eyelashes for the second time today.
“Come on, I’m catching up on our show,” he says softly, lips grazing across your cheek gently. You had been watching the same show for the past few months, texting each other during episodes here and there, and chatting about it whenever you saw each other. He had complained none of the other members would watch it with him and while you would never let him know this, you had lied and said you were also planning to watch it.
Against your better judgement, you let him guide you to his small room, where his large tv is paused on the latest episode of the space docuseries.
“Oh, I haven’t watched this one yet,” you admit, dropping down to sit at the edge of his bed.
He clicks to restart the episode and unzips the sweatshirt, moving to remove it and reveal his bare chest.
“Jisung,” you say sternly and he chuckles, zipping it back up halfway, and plopping down on the bed next to you. He pulls the hood up over his dark hair for good measure before propping himself up against the pillows he has leaned against the wall. You settle back, leaving some space between the two of you and pulling a hamster plushie into your lap to nervously fiddle with.
While your eyes had started to get heavy back at your apartment, you are now wired, your body coursing with electricity and hypersensitive to every movement from the man next to you. He reaches for his phone occasionally, letting out light chuckles at messages from Chenle and even daring to post a couple Bubble messages. You thank whatever higher power exists that your phone was still tucked in your bag at the door, so he didn’t see yours light up when he sent the message. It was a drunken guilty pleasure you had indulged in and ever since receiving the first message tailored with your name, you couldn’t stop yourself from renewing the subscription.
His legs keep brushing against yours when he readjusts his position on the bed and somehow has gotten so close that his shoulder is now brushing against yours. You try to shift away, but he only closes the distance again when you do so. Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re having a difficult time focusing on the show.
Suddenly the screen is filled with bright colors as they depict beautiful graphics of what scientists imagine the birth of a star looks like and a gasp falls from your lips as you lean forward, eyes flickering across the screen to take in the beautiful scene.
“You’re so pretty when you nerd out over this stuff,” comes his low voice, suddenly close to your ear, hand resting in the middle of your back.
You lean back in reaction, trapping his arm between you and the pillow, turning slightly to face him.
“Coming from NASA’s number one stan, please,” you reply lightly, shoving the plushie at him playfully. You let a chuckle fall from your lips and shake your head lightly, causing your hair to cascade over your shoulders.
He grabs at it and throws it off the edge of the bed, hands suddenly tight on your hips and pulling you into his lap, possessively gripping your ass as you straddle his legs.
Your lips drop open in surprise, both of you breathing heavy at the sudden movement. You feel your responsible self tapping your shoulder but finally decide to let the years of desire bubble to the surface and propel your lips to close the gap with his.
You move your lips across his gently, resisting the urge to push your tongue out immediately or bite down on his lower lip. He tightens his grip on you in response, pushing his crotch up to meet yours. You swear you can feel him through his pants which only makes you want him more.
He pulls away, taking your cheek in his other hand and looking between your eyes as if searching for some sort of silent answer to a silent question. You can almost see his own voice of reason forcing him to pause, if only for a moment.
“You ready to deal with the consequences of that monster you created, Noona?” he asks in a devastatingly low tone before moving his lips down to mouth at your chest, pushing the knit fabric to the side to bite at your shoulder.
A sigh falls from your lips as you let your head roll back, entire body on fire as he marks the skin at your neck, teeth sharp on your skin. You can’t help as your hands slide over the zipper of his hoodie and unzip it slowly, pushing the fabric down his shoulders to expose his toned chest. Running your hands over his hard muscles, you dig your fingernails gently, eliciting a deep groan from Jisung.
“Babyyy,” he sighs out, sliding his hand up to your throat and applying pressure there, pulling you forward to meet your lips again. The kiss is more urgent this time, tongue pressing deep into your mouth and hand gripping you tighter as he continues.
You let your hands slide down his torso, running over his abs and sliding them to his back to pull yourself closer to him. Before you can pull yourself fully flush against his chest, you are being flipped over, head falling back into the pillowy surface.
“Are you sure about this,” you ask, voice wavering despite every intention you had to form a confident question. Your eyes are flicking between his dark ones, as they had many times before, but suddenly holding so much more meaning in this intimate space.
“Are you not?” he asks back, head cocking lightly to the side, thumbs never stopping the circles they are rubbing into your hip bones.
“That’s not an answer,” you quip back, grabbing onto his hands to force him to focus. Unfortunately for you, it did the exact opposite.
You pull your eyes away from his, looking at your hands now pressed up against each other against the comforter. Your hand looks tiny next to his, his fingers could almost wrap fully around the tops of yours and that makes your mind fuzzy. You pulse your fingers, stretching them along his, feeling the length of them and how hot they are to the touch.
“Noona,” he calls, not as harsh and biting as on set, but still drawing you back to reality quickly.
His voice finally softens as he sees your watery blinking eyes, overstimulation creeping up on you before you’ve done much more than make out. He drops his thumb down the side of your face, caressing the space between your ear lobe and jaw tenderly. You want to look away, you want to push up and capture his lips in yours, you want to pull that stupid hamster plushie over your face and hide your burning cheeks.
“You know, I want it, I like,” he states, as if that is a full sentence other than in the context of the song they were filming with all day. His lips turn up in a small, shy smile at the end, showing a glimpse of that quiet boy you’ve always known and your heart settles a little in your chest. You nod rapidly a few times, sinking your nails into the palm of his hand and letting your eyes flutter shut.
His lips are on yours again quickly and that wicked hand that was just caressing your skin is now tightening around your neck again, which forces you up into an arch on the bed, pressing your lower body against his hardening cock. His tongue feels hot and wet in your mouth and you can’t help the moans that are escaping every time you have to pull back for air.
He sits up, straddling either side of your legs, tugging at your shirt and you manage to sit halfway up on your elbows, almost tearing the delicate fabric of your sweater as you rip it off, fumbling with the clasp of your bra as Jisung’s mouth is suddenly latched onto your neck, dropping heated kisses down your collarbone.
He sees you struggling and simply presses a strong thumb to the clasp, letting the cotton fabric slide off your arms and he tosses it clear across the room. This draws your attention to the door, which you realize now is cracked and you pray to every higher power that Renjun isn’t home.
“Hey, eyes on me,” comes the low voice above you again and you’re drawn back in, tuning out the distractions around you. He seems more amused than annoyed, which you have to appreciate given how long you’ve both waited for this exact moment.
Jisung makes quick work of removing his pants and boxers, reaching for a condom from his nightstand as you push down your own sweats, pausing at the thin band of your underwear. He sees you, dropping the foil packet to the bed and dips his head down, teeth dragging the elastic quickly, causing you to jump and let out a giggle.
“SUNG!” you yell weakly, trying to push his dark blue locks away as he continues to drag the dampened fabric down your legs.
He somehow manages to do it pretty easily, without getting too caught up on your knees or thighs, only struggling once he’s at your ankles and ripping them off with his hand, letting them drop to the floor with your bra.
He simply shrugs at you, a smile tugging at his mouth as he smooths those huge hands over your thighs, kneading the flesh there, eyes transfixed on your naked body. Your whole body is on fire and you silently beg for him to get on with it, even as it looks like he is about to swallow you whole.
A creeping monster your in your brain tells you you should feel more self conscious with him seeing you like this, despite both being equally exposed, realizing how many times you’ve seen him half clothed or even less. His tongue darts out to lick his lips as he reaches up, covering your breast easily with his hand, thumb teasing your nipple absently. Your breath hitches in your throat and you can’t help but hold your breath as pleasure begins to flood through your body.
You beg your own gaze not to lower, not ready to see the size of him fully hard. You’ve unfortunately seen almost all the members’ dicks but usually in quick, embarrassed, accidental glimpses. Well, except for that one time Jaemin was literally helicopter swinging it around in the dressing room when you walked in with a tray of iced americanos. Both him and Jeno couldn’t speak to you for two weeks while Chenle continued to bring it up every chance he could, even mimicking the motion during sound check at their next stop.
You are startled at the sound of him tearing the condom wrapper, rolling it quickly on and leaning back down, face inches from yours as he cups the side of your face again. You instinctively nuzzle lightly into his hand at the contact, letting your eyes flutter shut as you draw your lips to his hand, smelling faintly of the lube from the condom. You kiss in between his thumb and forefinger lightly and before you know it, he’s slipping his thumb in between your spit covered lips, pad of his finger gently pressing against your tongue.
You gasp but drag your eyes lazily to meet his, knowing your own hunger is visible now not only in your gaze but also in the eager sucking of your lips.
He groans, taking the chance to push into you and you swear you see stars. Your eyes widen but pull his thumb further into your mouth, teeth grazing across the tip of his finger erratically as your hips buck up to pull him impossibly close.
Jisung’s eyes are fluttering shut, thumb dropping from your lips, now flushed red with teeth marks and slick with spit, sliding down to clutch your throat once again. Your own hand flies to your chest, groping at yourself, desperate for something to hold onto as he picks up the pace of his thrusts.
He’s quiet, but with deep and passionate groans tumbling from his lips every once and a while. You watch as sweat begins to form at his hairline, perfect face beautiful in the dim light of his room, quiet music floating from his tv’s speakers as the episode is long forgotten and scrolling through the credits screen endlessly. Each noise that bubbles up from his chest equally soothes and paralyzes you, your own personal brand of poison seeping coldly through your veins. Your lips are perpetually hung open, mouth becoming so dry you can barely squeak out your own moans.
You feel your orgasm building suddenly after a particularly strong thrust and you swallow harshly, moving to speak to alert him. He doesn’t need any warning, reaching down to throw your leg over his shoulder and angle his lower body to perfectly hit that same spot over and over.
In seconds the poison is washing over you, lapping first at your feet like waves at the shore, nearly knocking you out as you float high above yourself, almost feeling like you’re having an out of body experience. Your chest is heaving as he slows his movements, as if he’s going to pull out.
A confused look forms on your face, head cocking to the side as you grip his arm, shaking your head wildly. Your hair is sticking to the back of your neck and you feel too hot on his plush bedding, but that isn’t reason to stop.
“Wait…what about…” you ask, confused, knowing he hasn’t come. Your eyes flick to the door again, wondering if he’s heard something while you were swimming a galaxy of bliss post orgasm.
He smiles at you, sliding out slowly and disposing of the condom quickly. He walks back over and takes your hand, bringing you to rise on shaky legs, standing naked beside his bed as he takes both your cheeks in his hands and kisses you deeply on the lips.
“I was thinking it would be better to continue what we started on set,” he purrs against you when he finishes ravaging your swollen lips.
A mischievous look forms in your eyes and you drop your hand to his stiff cock, giving it a few experimental pumps with the mix of lube and pre cum.
“Oh yeah?” is all you can reply, sinking slowly to your knees, still managing to tease him at this moment. You drop your hands to let them rest at your thighs, pressed together in an attempt to cool the burning heat still there.
He hisses out as soon as he can see you below him, bicep flexing as he runs his hand through his hair, shaking his head in feigned annoyance. His lids are heavy and all you can see are the whites of his eyes as they roll up in ecstasy.
You run your hands up your body, fingering the side of your neck and then tangling your fingers in your own hair seductively, never looking away from the man standing above you.
“Show me how good you can be for me, Noona,” he grunts out suddenly, gripping your chin way tighter than he had in the dressing room earlier. You grit your teeth but try to keep your face even as he tilts your head lightly, as if studying your face.
You gulp audibly and take him in your hands, finally faced with what you already knew was going to be stretching your cheeks as you were definitely going to struggle fitting him in your small mouth.
You tongue at his slit teasing it gently before sucking at the tip, letting it rest in your open mouth, eyes flicked up at him menacingly. You can tell from the look in Jisung’s eyes that he is dying to ram his cock down your throat but is trying so hard to let you set the pace.
Without any warning, you're sliding him further and further into your mouth, hands massaging his smooth calves to ground you. He’s getting louder now and one of his hands is playing in your hair, every once and a while gripping it tighter.
It only takes a few gentle thrusts till his voice becomes more strained and he’s tapping you on the head as a poor attempt of warning you he’s close. You resolve to let him spill into your mouth, but as soon as he comes the sudden movement causes most of the mess to land on your cheek and shoulder.
His loud exclamation of his pet name for you still ringing in the air, his hand loosens in your hair and you’re on your feet, hands settling on his broad chest, a hazy look of satisfaction on your face.
He seems mesmerised by you covered in his cum and draws a thumb up to that same spot between your ear and jaw, sliding it down and through the mess he made on your face. It’s as if everything’s moving in slow motion as your bottom lip drops open without a word and he slides his thumb into welcoming lips. You taste him, all of him, as he watches you suckle on the digit and blush form on your cheeks under the shine of your skin.
“Fucking filthy baby,” he whispers out, yanking you towards him as he sits on the edge of his bed and lifts you into his lap.
You can feel him harden under you and feel yourself warm up as his cock brushes against your core. You grind down on his lap which is met by him only gripping your waist tighter and landing a light smack on your ass. You grin at this and lean forward to kiss him, pushing your tongue greedily into his mouth.
“Already wanting more?” he asks with a mild mocking tone when you pull back, breathless and red in the face. He’s fully groping your ass at this point, massaging your cheeks with his fingers and pressing his palms into the thick flesh there.
You nod aggressively as you grind down on his cock again, spreading your thighs a bit more for better leverage. You want nothing more than for him to slide his bare cock into you right here and let you ride him through multiple orgasms, your tits bouncing right at eye level as he groans into your mouth through open mouthed kisses.
He merely laughs, pulling you out of your fantasy and reaches awkwardly for another condom, hand firmly keeping you in place.
“As much as I want what you want right now baby, let’s make sure there’s no-“ he starts out, rolling the condom on with shaky hands.
“SUNG, PLEASE!” you yell, clasping a hand over his mouth in embarrassment.
Even in the midst of it all, all the lustful years leading up to this moment, all the hidden glances and late night drunken thoughts, he is still your poison. Something that worms its way into your mind, into your heart. Normally, you wouldn’t even imagine being this close to someone without protection but somehow, Jisung does something to you that makes you want to be reckless. You want to be reckless with your heart, let it be swallowed whole by him. You want to throw your body on him, let him tear you down and degrade you and use you. You want to give him everything and every bit of love you can offer. You think you can see the two of you growing old together, sitting quietly in a park watching your grandchildren play together in the distance.
But you see, that’s the problem with poison. It gets in your veins, in your lungs, in your heart and slowly sweeps and finally, finally tears you down. You float high above yourself again, seeing stars as Jisung releases into the condom and his head falls against your chest. You are both quiet and unsure of what comes next. The poison of this night will wear off soon and reality will set in, leaving you only the memories of this night to return to in your dreams.
~~
#nct smut#nct fanfic#nct x reader#park jisung#jisung x reader#nct dream x reader#nct dream smut#jisung smut#park jisung x reader
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Decadent Desires Ch 14
Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, smut eluded to briefly, mentions of typical BAU type stuff. If any of y’all are my ao3 ppl, bless you & thank you for all the extra comments & chatting about this story! I absolutely love hearing all your thoughts/opinions/what you think is gonna happen. Like, yes please, send me your full book reports! Everybody gets an A++
After last chapter; for anyone who might want to look into more Heather Dunbar, all her works can be found here
Your eyes twitched, daring to open long before you wanted them to and you stifled a yawn, shifting slightly in the bed. As your senses came to you could feel Heather’s arm very loosely thrown over your waist, though it wasn’t an act of intimacy and definitely wasn’t cuddling. You’d accidentally fallen asleep in her bed the night prior before she could even bring you a bottle of water, exhausted from the heat and sun and thoroughly fucked. She stayed up for another couple of hours before turning in herself and sometime during her sleep had rolled over closer to you, her hand flopping across your hip.
The chirping out the window became too much and you knew you weren’t going to get anymore sleep, no matter how hard you tried. Your eyes cracked open, looking at the clock on the nightstand, at least it was already past nine, you’d gotten a little bit of a sleep in. Tossing Heather’s arm off you, you groaned softly as you sat up, stretching out your body and rolling your neck, a couple of joints cracking as you did so.
“Why the hell are you up?” She grumbled, burying her face into the pillow.
“Our flight’s at noon.” You yawned, “I’ve got to start packing.”
“I own the fucking plane. We take off when I say we take off.”
“Check out is also at noon.” You chuckled, swatting at her hip as you stood from the bed, beginning to collect your clothes that were scattered across the floor.
“You really think I didn’t already pay them off for a three p.m. checkout?” She finally opened her eyes, rubbing at them as she looked up at you and you laughed softly again.
“Then sleep. I need to shower and pack and probably get a few things ready for the week, we were so focused on the retreat I know I must’ve been missing a few things back home.” You crossed through the open door back to your room.
“God.” She huffed, dropping onto her back into the pillows as she picked up her phone, “it better not be fucking snowing back home.”
“Heather please, it barely snows in D.C.” You laughed as you hastily folded the clothes in your hands, dropping them into your open suitcase as you glanced around the room. “Hey, is Rob still off on Sundays?”
“Yeah.” She called back, “he said something about wanting to make a late dinner tonight.”
“You think you can ask him to meet us at the jet?”
“Why?” She sat up, holding the bedsheet to her chest as concern took over her face, knowing just how much a week of travel and this amount of sun exposure could affect you, “are you feeling sick? I need you for that merger meeting.”
“I’m fine.” You cast a look over your shoulder as you wrapped a towel around you, “I’ve just got a date with Prentiss on Wednesday.”
“Sweetheart, you’re in the clear.” She assured and it was your turn to chuckle.
“Heat… how many people are you currently fucking?”
“In D.C?” She asked and you nodded, “three not including Rob. But you know I don’t let them fuck me and I don’t share toys.”
“Not the point. It was in the contract I signed and Rob is far faster and more convenient than me taking time off my precious and very important job to see my gyno.”
“I will call him and tell him what time to meet us.”
“Thank you.” You shot her a smile, digging through your suitcase for classy yet comfortable clothes for the plane ride home.
“If you’re going to all that effort you may as well come back in here for one last round.”
“Go back to sleep Heather!” You called back, disappearing from the doorway and Heather heard the shower starting a moment later, letting out a sigh as she dropped back into the bedsheets.
**
Emily could not wait a second longer to get out of this hell hole and back home, preferably without a stop at the BAU first. Every case was teetering the line on rough, things that no normal human would be okay with witnessing or being around and this one was no different. This time there was the added affect that no matter how hard the team tried, they were always a second too late, never finding a living victim, an hour behind the unsub every step of the way until they’d finally baited him into it. Not only was she exhausted and not looking forward to the amount of paperwork that was going to come across her desk because of this week, but she really didn’t want to get the lecture she knew was coming from Bailey.
She stashed her bag into one of the cupboards, retreating to the back of the jet to drop down into the corner seat, letting out a weary sigh as she ran a hand over her face, pinching at the bridge of her nose. She just needed to get home and she would be able to handle this. Thankfully no one else really wanted to socialize either, finding more private spots on the jet, curling up in seats and couches until the plane was at cruising altitude and most everyone was asleep. She dozed off a bit herself, thankful for the rest though she wished it was more when she stirred in her seat, eyes cracking open to find they were still another few hours from Washington.
A fresh mug of steaming and very welcomed coffee found itself on the table in front of her as Tara hovered in the aisle beside the quad of seats.
“You okay?” She asked gently.
“Yeah.” Emily replied with a huff, picking up the mug, “that just… fucking sucked.”
“Man it really did.” The other woman groaned, dropping into the seat across from her, “but remember…we got him.” Her hand reached out, squeezing at her knee, “he won’t hurt anyone else.”
“I just really wish we’d clued in earlier, could’ve saved a lot of people a hell of a lot of hurt.”
“I know.” Tara replied, “so do I.” With another squeeze of her knee she settled back into her chair, taking a sip of her coffee, “we’ll do better next time.”
“Mmm.” She nodded.
“Thanks, for the extra days off by the way.” Tara commented, noting that while they were heading home on a Sunday that Emily had made the call the BAU wouldn’t be functioning until Wednesday.
“You guys need it.” She sighed, “after a case like this, everyone needs time to disassociate and pretend like there’s nothing wrong in the world.” Her gaze drifted out the window, “JJ needs to see her family, spend time with them, hug them so tight it’s like she’ll never let them go. You better be going to see Rebecca; remember why we do what we do to keep the world safe….”
“And what about you?” She asked after a quiet moment, watching the way Emily’s face twitched as she stared out the window a moment longer before turning back to her and waving her off.
“I’ll be fine. I’ve been doing this a long time.”
“I know you have, and I’m not profiling, I’m doctor-ing, so you can’t lecture me.” Tara leant in on the table between them, “deny it all you want, but you have someone right now who means something in your life. It could be a new friend and that’s it, but it also could be something more and I don’t need to know any details right now, but I want to make sure you’re not just going home alone to a bottle of wine tonight.”
Emily huffed, taking another sip of coffee, “she was out of town this week, I’m not even sure when she’s back.”
“Hey…” Tara’s hand slid across the table, squeezing at her own, “whatever change you’ve made recently? It’s been a good one. You’ve been happier, more energetic, getting out of work on time and spending your weekends actually doing something. I haven’t seen you do anything other than work since we came back, so call her please… for me?”
“I’ll think about it, but I’m not making promises. I’ve got a mountain of paperwork and god knows Bailey’s gonna be blowing up my phone once he hears about the case.” She sighed, though her lips curved up into a soft smile and Tara relaxed into the seat across from her, giving her a knowing look before Emily’s gaze drifted out the window again.
**
Once home you began the usual post travel routine, make sure to immediately unpack, dumping clothing directly into the laundry and setting aside those that needed to go to the dry cleaners. You sorted through your work bag, filing everything correctly, stashing half away in your home office and packing the rest back up to have on the go. A quick clean out of the fridge, tossing anything that had unfortunately gone bad over the course of the week before putting in a grocery order and deciding to rely on take out for dinner. Finally, it was time for a luxurious everything shower. It didn’t matter how expensive or fancy the resort was, you always preferred your own shower, the water pressure and temperature was perfect, you had all of your own skin and hair products and didn’t have to worry about taking too much time or how many other people’s feet had touched the tub.
You wandered back downstairs just in time for your dinner to arrive, making sure to leave a hefty tip for the driver as it was much later than you’d normally order and the weather was starting to turn. Not even waiting to fully unbox everything you dug a fork into the chow mein, your stomach growling heavily already, stuffing a few forkfuls into your mouth. When you turned to grab a bottle of wine your eyes landed on the practically overflowing recycle bin and glancing over to the calendar you let out a groan, it was getting picked up in the morning, but only if it was in the alley.
With an annoyed sigh, you grabbed a sweater, shoved on a pair of slip-ons and grabbed the bin to trek through the yard and dump in the appropriate place. Back inside you locked the door behind you, a shiver moving through you at the chilly air lingering in your kitchen as you washed your hands and finally poured out a glass of wine. A sip of that and another mouthful of noodles and there was a knocking coming from the front door. A quick glance to your phone confirmed you hadn’t missed anything so you padded over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open to find Emily on the other side.
“Hey.”
Your voice broke her out of her trance of worry, fully registering that she actually had shown up at your door in practically the middle of the night. Her eyes flicked over your form, her shoulders relaxing at just how cozy and at peace you looked, leggings and loose sweater, your hair still damp and messily braided to keep it out of the way while your face was bare of any make up.
“Hey.” Emily replied, mimicking your soft smile. Her ears picked up the sound of laundry going in the distance and she spotted your work bag sitting right inside the entry, eyes flicking up to the kitchen to your barely touched take out and she suddenly put it together, wincing, “oh shit! I’m so sorry, you just got back.” She couldn’t help it, glancing over her shoulder as if it would be a better idea to retreat to her car, “this is outta line, I should’ve called. I just… man today really fucking sucked…”
You practically snorted at the out of line phrase, your hand reaching out to pinch at her elbow, waving her into your home, “it’s fine, come on in.”
You lead her into the kitchen, urging her to take a seat at the island as you stripped off the sweater, now back in the warmth of the house. “Wine?” You asked, opening the cupboard, “or something stronger?”
“Something stronger, please.” She grumbled, running a hand over her face. She glanced up at the sound of you sliding a tumbler of bourbon over to her and her eyes landed on the cotton ball stuck to the inside of your arm, “are you okay?”
“Hmm?” You asked, looking over your shoulder to her as you stashed the bottle back in the cupboard and she gestured to your arm. “Oh,” you let out a small huff of a laugh, ripping the band aid off and tossing both into the garbage, “yeah, just had some blood taken.” You slid back onto your stool, picking up the carton of noodles and gesturing to the others, “you hungry?”
“No, thank you.” She let out a weary sigh, taking a long drink of her booze.
“Emily… are you okay?”
She glanced up at you, her eyes flitting between your oh so cozy aura, the barely touched food, prime wine that you were trying to enjoy and she let out a huff, nearly pushing back from the island. “god, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have just shown up like this.”
You managed to catch her hand before she had managed to actually push her stool back, “Em… I said it was fine.” You squeezed gently, urging her to sit back down and she did.
“It’s just.. I’m not exactly.. uh.. up to my normal caliber and definitely not in the headspace for our normal activities…” She nearly avoided your gaze and you let out a soft laugh.
“And that’s perfectly fine.” You reassured her, nudging her glass closer toward her, “compensation doesn’t always have to be sexual. There’s an entire other dynamic to it, companionship means support too. Contrary to what you may think, I do actually enjoy spending time with you and that will always include outside the bedroom.”
She let out a deep breath, “my brain is still trying to sort out the whole sugar baby situation and I think I’m just overcomplicating things. I kind of figured it was a sex for money but make it…morally legal.” She nearly laughed at her own words, pulling a small grin from you.
“There are plenty of sugar baby relationships that don’t even involve sex. Some people are just lonely, or scared of doing things by themselves so they have someone go with them to lunch, movies, opera, the theatre. Hell I’ve heard of a few old married couples where the wife has a passion for arts and the husband would much rather sit at home with the game on, if he doesn’t have to suffer through it himself, he has absolutely no qualms with a much younger man escorting his wife.”
“So I really am overthinking things?” She asked, looking back up to you with a soft smile and you chuckled.
“Yeah.”
“I still feel bad about intruding on your evening.”
“It’s not like I had much planned.” You shrugged, “now c’mon, help yourself to food, I’m definitely not going to finish it all.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Em..” you warned, “when was the last time you ate? Truthfully.”
“Before we got on the jet.” She winced and you cast her a glare.
“We’ve got noodles, rice, beef and broccoli or ginger chicken.” You pushed the containers toward her, “help yourself.”
She picked up a fork and the container of rice, taking a couple of bites while a comfortable silence took over the room and she was finally able to relax a bit. It was then that she started to realize more of the meaning behind your words, and why she was so drawn to showing up at your house in the first place (and why Tara had been so insistent on it). If she had just gone home she would likely be pouring over case files and attempting to get as much paperwork done as possible to get ahead before Bailey got into things with her. Sleep wouldn’t have been an option until it was all done, she definitely wouldn’t have eaten and a bottle of wine would have been her best friend. Instead being inside your kitchen felt warm, welcoming, simply having another human in the same room made her remember that there was so much else to life than just work. Things didn’t have to be so dreary and boring all the time.
“How was Florida?” She asked after a few moments.
“It was decent.” You shrugged, “secured a good amount of supporters, got some up and comers onto our ideas, reminded myself I’m not actually terrible at tennis and managed to only have my ass grabbed four times while congressmen tried to teach me how to golf.”
“Ew.” Her nose crinkled and you laughed, “I hope this doesn’t sound bad, but do you… have to like, play dumb a lot around them?”
“Oh no, I actually am completely horrible at golf. And you only get one chance to truly play dumb around them before they realize how much potential you could or do have and only certain ones feed into the dumb, some see right through it.”
“So you’ve got to know how to read them even quicker?”
“Yup.” You took a sip of your wine, “Heather always said it’s best to slide in with a hint of sensuality, let that be the bait and you have a matter of minutes to figure out whether you’re going low or high status to get them wrapped around your finger. The guys, it was go low. Do I have a very successful career with one of the highest ranked Senators in the country? Of course, but that completely slips their minds on a retreat like that when I’m wearing a cute outfit serving them drinks filling the role of cart girl.”
“Huh.” She replied, digging through the container before taking another bite and silence took over the room again. Though this time there was something lingering in the air and after a few minutes you chose to speak up.
“I take it your week wasn’t as good?”
Emily let out a heavy breath, “just a really bad case. I don’t want to drag you down with details but it was one of the worst we’ve seen in a while and in the end we barely caught the guy.”
“You sure you don’t want to talk about it? I promise I can handle the gory details; Tony never holds back; I actually think he over exaggerates to make himself sound cooler…”
“Tony?” Her brow furrowed.
“Agent friend.” You replied with a shrug.
“Ah,” she poked around at the rice again, “and no, but thanks. I think I just really didn’t want to be alone tonight.”
“Alright.” You cast her a warm smile, closing the lid on your take out as you stood from the island. You were full and Emily had done nothing but play with her food for a while now, you were sure she wasn’t going to eat anything else. “How about we take the bottle of wine upstairs then?”
“Oh, but I—” she stumbled over her words and you laughed softly, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder.
“I’m not going to pounce on you, don’t worry. The tv in the bedroom’s nicer and it’s getting late, may as well fall asleep in the bed rather than have to drag ourselves from the couch later.”
She let out an awkward laugh, closing the rice container and sliding it over to you, “oh, right.”
You looked back at her, reaching your hand out as she slipped off her stool, “C’mere.” Tugging her to you she let out a little ‘oop’ as your arms wound around her, wrapping her into a tight hug. A wave of relief crashed over you as she let out a content sigh, relaxing into the embrace and the tension in her shoulders finally began to drip away. You pressed a soft kiss to the side of her head, squeezing at her once more before gently pulling away.
“Thank you.” She murmured softly, giving you a tired smile.
“Anytime.” Your hand trailed down her arm, curling around hers as you turned to the staircase, “now come on, you need some good cuddles and sleep, number one recommendation from doctors after a rough week.”
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@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird bird @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @lisqueen @mrs-prentiss @whitewinewithice @d33pd3sire-blog @daffodil-heart @maximoffcarter @i-lovefandom @chimnlex @moonlightjxuregui @chestnutninny @gamma-rae-bursts @just-moondust @idkifimasub @gaydragonwitch @dowsedwithbleach @divergentalwaysandforever-blog
#emily prentiss#emily prentiss x reader#criminal minds#decadent desires#emily prentiss x fem!reader#criminal minds fanfic#emily prentiss fanfic#emily prentiss series
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hey! it’s so funny how whenever i stumble upon your blog, people are trying to get you to sleep 😹
anw, i noticed one of your friends are a bit sad(?) or smthng. how ‘bout a karina fluff to cheer her angsty soul up? 😹
-😽
Forever
CW: Karina x reader, Fluff
A/N: They never want me to stay up late😔😒. Wait WHO IS SAD??? Is it Mya??
Karina walked in the bedroom to find you curled up sitting gloomily. “What’s wrong baby”, she asked casually as she sat next to you, facing you, leaning on the headboard and putting a hand on your waist.
You took a deep breath and huffed saying nothing and just shifting a little closer to her.
She chuckled and pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you and kissing your cheek, “are you going to tell me or are you just going to pretend to pout”
“I’m not pretending to pout!”, you argue.
Karina giggles and kisses your cheek again, “fine but what’s wrong?”
You sigh and wrap your arms around her too, “I don’t know, just started feeling down all of a sudden.”
“Mmm…and have you been eating properly?”, Karina begins to rub your back gently.
“…..yes.”, you answer meekly.
Karina pulls her head away and stares at you with narrowed eyes, “what was the last meal you ate?”
“….dinner…”, you reply quietly.
Her expression falls, “…..it’s 4PM what do you mean dinner??? Have you not eaten anything at all since yesterday night????”
“I….I had some apple juice”, you try to counter.
Karina looks at you in disbelief silently.
“At like 11 yesterday night…”, you add.
Karina sighs, “when did you have dinner…”
“5PM…ish”, you answer nonchalantly.
“Get up, out of the bed now.”, She sternly says pulling you upwards.
“But I’m feeling tired!”, you protest going limp.
“Because you aren’t taking care of yourself!”, she points out.
“Fine.”, you pout and get up while she drags you to the kitchen.
“You really are like a kid you know. I have to literally monitor you like one. What do you mean you have not eaten anything for so long. God!”, Karina sighs in frustration as she prepares something for you.
You trace random patterns on the table with a guilty smile as you wait.
A few minutes later Karina puts the plate infront of you, “Eat it all.
You sigh and smile at her before digging in. You ended up finishing everything quickly while Karina glared at you.
“If you want me to cook for you just say it. You don’t need to starve yourself. Just because I’m busy doesn’t mean you can’t eat.”, she scolds.
“Yes but….uhnnnm”, you protest.
“I’m not hearing it.”, she sternly says, “and from now you I’m making you food 5 times a day and you ARE going to eat it every time. Seriously, how are you like this.”
You giggle and hug her, “I think you should scold me more, why do I feel better now.”
She rolls her eyes playfully, “definitely nothing to do with the food right. Fine I’ll scold you more. As much as you want.”, she says smiling before suddenly tickling you.
“H-hey!”, you squeal and protest, laughing.
Somehow it had turned into a tickle fight now, the two of you trying to make the other submit, all of your worries gone for the moment, the only thing mattering is each other….
#ask me anything#answered asks#anon ask#😽anon#kpop gg#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#reader x idol#karina fluff#karina#aespa karina#yu jimin#aespa fluff#aespa imagines#aespa scenarios#aespa x reader
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hi can i request girl dad!aaron 🥺🥺 i am such a sucker for him, anything would be amazing thank you so much <3
hope this is okay!! —you have big news for your small family. 1.5k pregnant!mom!reader
When you first married his father, you weren't expecting Jack Hotchner to like you very much. Losing his mom so young, you wouldn't have blamed him for resenting you, or even hating you. You were like a stranger in his home.
Things are different now. Jack lays in your lap with his head on your shoulder, and maybe he's a little too old for such a coddling cuddle, but who really cares? You love him and you love holding him, and if he wants some extra comfort tonight you're happy to give it. Plus, you have something you've been meaning to tell him.
“He doesn't have real headlights, did you know?” Jack asks. “They're just stickers.”
You raise your brows at the car on screen. “No kidding.” You brush your fingers through his hair. He's blonde like his mom, though that blonde has turned brown the older he gets.
“Race cars don't have headlights.”
“They don't need them,” you say. Jack smiles at you shyly and leans into your neck, clearly pleased.
You're very, very glad that you ended up being someone he loved. It's a privilege to get to look after him, and to be his step mom. In the same way you're lucky to be Aaron's partner and Jane's mom, too.
“Think dad's made dinner?” you ask.
“No, he's probably just talking to Jane.”
Yes, well. You can't blame him, nor would you want him to stop. He talks to Jane like she understands, and Jane, not even two years old, nearly brand new to the world, soaks him in. You can hear him if you strain, the dulcet cadence of his voice under the steady hum of the dishwasher.
“That's okay, sweetheart, don't get upset,” he's saying, “it's okay. Come here, I've got you.”
Jane starts to cry. You and Jack give one another the look, apprehensive in hoping it won't turn into a full blown melt down.
“Honey?” Aaron calls. “Sorry, where did you put her other pacifier?”
You kiss Jack's hair. “Sorry, bub. Wanna come with me?”
Jack wants to stay and watch Cars. You wrap him in a throw blanket and make your way into the Hotchner kitchen, where Aaron rifles through the drawers and cabinets with Jane held snugly to his chest. “I know,” he says, “I know. I'll get it.”
You nudge him aside. You only know where the spare pacifier is because you put away the wooden spoons last night and pushed it back. You fish for it, a ladybug made of glittery red plastic, and Jane's crying slows as soon as you pull it free. She grizzles while you rinse it, but she settles when you hand it over.
“This is not the best, is it? The pacifiers?” you murmur.
“She dropped her other one and it rolled under the oven. And no. Not ideal.” He pats her back gently. “As long as she stops before she gets her big teeth, she'll be okay.”
“Do you think it's a comfort issue?” you ask.
“No,” he says. You worry about stuff like this constantly, but he knows kids are more hardy, and he isn't worried. “Sorry for making you get up.”
He hates when she cries; he may see his kids as a hardy bunch, but he takes their upset as a personal failure half the time. His concern for her overrides his concern for you, but in a few weeks that might change. You can't imagine him calling you to find something again when your stomach is round as a honeydew.
You've been meaning to tell him about that, too.
You're not secret-keeping immorally, he does want another baby, but you've been having a little bit of fun. He's gone on cases so often lately that he hasn't been able to keep track of you, or your doctor's appointments.
You watch him with Jane, and you think about him with Jack, and you know he's going to be happy. He's told you as much before.
“My poor girl,” he says, covering the back of Jane's head with his hand and pulling her under his chin. He looks as fine as ever, tall, dark and handsome to a fault. Jane's lips smack as she sucks and digs her teary cheek into his chest.
You can feel his gaze on you. “Is now a good time?” he asks.
You shrug. “For what?”
“To tell me what you're not telling me.”
“Oh, busted,” you croon, aiming for his shoulder.
You do as Jane had and press your cheek to his front, your eye forced shut.
“What do you think it is?” you ask.
He makes a strange noise. You can practically hear the possibilities for your secret running through his head. His birthday is vaguely soon, so that's what he'll settle on first. But Aaron likes to disregard the obvious as most people do, only circling back to it when there's no other lead to follow.
“How big of a secret is it?” he asks, rubbing Jane's back diligently. She makes a happy sound, and for a moment he forgets his plight to kiss the top of her head.
You speak quietly, carefully, because it is big, huge news. “The pamphlets say it’s about the size of a strawberry.”
He puts his cheek to Jane's head softly, looking at you in confusion. A second, another, and his eyebrows start to relax, rise, a smile on his lips like it's too good to be true. “You are?” he asks in surprise.
Jack appears in the doorway with the throw blanket trailing behind him. “Y/N, when are you coming back to watch TV?”
“Jack, lovely, come here. I have something to tell you,” you say.
Aaron grabs your wrist. When you meet his eyes, he squeezes gently. “You're sure?” he asks.
“The doctor seemed pretty certain, handsome.” You lower your voice as Jack comes to stand in front of you. “Are you happy?”
“Happy about what?”
You put your hand on your stomach cautiously, worried about Aaron and how quiet he's being, and if it's as okay to tell Jack as you'd thought, but that action is what gets him. “I love you,” he says quizzically, as though his being happy is totally dependent on the fact. “Of course I'm happy. This is the best secret you could've kept.”
“About what?” Jack asks, patting your arm.
You bend down just a bit to see his face properly. “It's a secret you can't tell anyone for a while, okay? The only people who can know for now are me, you, and dad.”
“Can I tell Jane?” he asks.
“Yeah, buddy, you can tell your sister,” Aaron says.
You peer at him from the corner of your eye, both concerned and pleased to see the wetness ringing his waterline, and the tenderness with which he holds Jane close, his thumb rubbing little circles into her back.
“I'm going to have another baby,” you say.
Jack's jaw drops. “Right now?”
“No, not right now! You still remember last time?” you ask with a laugh, taking his shoulders into your hands.
“You were crying and shouting for dad to hold your hand.” He pokes your stomach. “So it's like Jane?”
“Maybe one day, sweetheart. For now, it's just a tiny baby.”
Jack wants to see your stomach. He's expecting a much bigger bump than you have to offer, but you explain that eventually it'll get bigger again, and he seems quite pleased. Aaron makes sure to give him a hug and ask him if he's okay, to which Jack says, “Yes, but can we have a brother this time?”
You rub the soft top of your stomach. “I'll see what I can do, Jack.”
Aaron commandeers your attention, kissing you more times than you can count. You don't think you've ever seen him this happy now the reality has truly set in, asking Jane in his murmur, “Do you want to be a big sister?”
She gurgles around the pacifier, leaving drool in a line down his chest.
“I know, honey. I'm excited too. Let's clean you up, mm? And make mommy a cup of hot cocoa…” He narrows his eyes at you. “Would you sit down?”
“I'm only ten weeks, I'm fine.”
“She's keeping secrets from me, and now she won't do what I'm asking,” he says to Jane. “Can you believe it? Anyone would think mommy doesn't like me as much as she claims.”
You kiss his cheek. “M'having your baby, Aaron, again.”
“That is a compelling argument.” He wipes Jane's cheek. “What do you think? Should we forgive her?” Jane laughs. He smiles at you, lovesick. You're not sure who for. “I guess we're letting you get away with this one, sweetheart. But no more secrets.”
“None,” you promise.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble
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better than him.
pairings. matt sturniolo x fem!reader
about. matt is envious of chris for something that was his before chris’.
warnings. foul language probably
ricky is typing… i finally caved and decided to write for my best boy. for my usual viewers, i apologize 😋.
"you deserve better than him... you know that right?"
his voice haunts you.
you let his words sink in while the silence soaks the both of you and your eyes stay closely trained on the cracks in the sidewalk and what you could make out of it.
it's midnight, close to it and there you were, once again left on the front lawn of chris’ house with no chris.
“he even knows it.”
matt’s words strike your heart cold and you hate how it’s him telling you this. you were sure everyone knew it, but everyone always had the curtesy to not say anything, because in the end it didn’t matter. as much as chris was a bad boyfriend at times, he always made up for it. most times.
this however, was not the time.
“want to come inside?”
“no, it’s fine,” you finally moved, facing him. “i’m just going to go home. i need sleep.”
“okay,” he nods his head, pulling his eyes from yours as he seemed more timid now that you were actually looking at him. “need a ride?”
“i drove.”
“oh,” he sounds sad, “right.”
he coughs, it is so awkward, for no reason, and matt knows it’s because of him. he should have just left you out here by yourself like always and just let you go on your own time, like always, but watching you made his heart ache.
“you sure you don’t want to come inside, y/n/n?” he narrowed his vision on you, trying to make it seem like he didn’t really care, but failing. “just for water or..?”
there’s a longing in his voice, like he needed it more than you did.
your eyes hit the sidewalk again, wincing, causing a crinkle in your eye as you think. there was no harm. absolutely no harm, and yet you hesitated, clutching the back of your neck and digging your nails into your skin in desperation for relief of the stress. stress of answering.
“yeah, why not matty,” you gave in, dropping your hand from your neck and taking the first step toward the home easily, like this was the way you would have headed even if you hadn’t said yes. like this is where you wanted to go and to be all along.
he nodded, trying to hide his smile before walking into his own home, not waiting for you.
he knew you’d come.
matt had known you since forever. way before chris, way before nick, way before anyone. and he took pride in that.
he was the reason chris knew you. he forever regretted that day where he introduced you to his triplet, posing you on a stool for the taking. he placed you like a treat on chris’ nose and he ate you up like a dog as fast as he could, with no care.
“i’m surprised your parents keep letting you out of your house this late.”
you sighed, following him into the home, placing your keys on the kitchen counter and slowly mentally undoing yourself, “me too.”
“they know he treats you like this?”
oh, you hate that question.
you’re not sure how to answer it, even as you both know very well what the answer is.
“let’s not do this, matt,” you bit the inside of your cheek.
the two of you have slowed, you’re posed in the doorway of the living room while he’s in the midst of sitting down, but stops himself, looking at you, really looking at you.
matt liked you, a lot.
“okay,” he nodded, slowly. “i’m sorry.”
like a lot, a lot.
“it’s alright.”
to the point he can barely look you in the face. especially now, after all that has happened.
“i just didn’t come in to talk about him. i came in for you.”
he swallows.
fuck.
really, really, really liked you.
“okay,” he finally sits down. “i’d offer my room, but nick would wake up to the sound of us sitting down and he’d be down my throat immediately.”
“no, it’s fine,” you smiled softly, keeping your position leaned against the framing. “i’m not picky.”
“yeah, you’ve always said that,” he scoffed, “yet you’re the pickiest person i’ve met.”
“not true,” you say fast, wanting to trudge across the five feet between you just to lightly hit him. “you were always the who couldn’t make up their mind on things.”
“picky and indecisive are two different things, y/n/n-“
“and yet, both equally a headache to deal with.”
both your heads jerked to see nick in all his midnight glory emerging from around the corner. if it wasn’t his tone of voice to clue you onto his annoyance, his evening attire was enough to let you know he did not want to be up at this hour.
“hey, y/n,” he passes you, lightly patting your arm as you stare at his feet and the slippers that covered them.
you hold back your laugh, “hey, nicky.”
“left in the dust, again?”
“oh, you know so well.”
“wouldn’t be the first time someone’s told me that,” he shuffles around behind you, filling a glass with water. “you two are loud as fuck. please shut the fuck up or like… go talk in the guest bedroom.”
“nick, we just got here,” matt leans on his knees, “you’re being a baby.”
nick is quick to dip his head to the side, an offended look on his face that he’d hope matt would challenge, “excuse me?”
you bite down your smile fast, looking to matt who doesn’t bother hiding his, “okay,” he stands, “okay, okay,” he raises his hands in defeat, but the smile on his face keeps pushing up on his cheeks. “we’ll just go in the guest bedroom.”
“yeah. you will,” nick shakes his head, taking a sip of his water.
the high attitude makes you want to laugh, but you don’t press it. nick was one of the moodiest people you had ever met, and as funny as it was, he was also ruthless and didn’t care for hurting someone’s feelings.
you push off the wall, walking toward the guest bedroom that was right down the hall with matt behind you till nick calls out again.
“matt, can i talk to you?”
you both stop, glancing at the boy who no longer seems to be in his heightened attitude.
“yeah?”
he looks concerned.
“outside?”
you suddenly feel the attention on you, even as neither of them were looking at you. but the tension of nicks stare on matt was undeniably because of you. you could tell.
matt’s eyes meet with yours, as if asking if it were okay, and you nod slowly, then watching them slowly go.
“what’re you doing, man?” the front door had just barely shut and nick was already airing it out. “c’mon matt, you can’t do this.”
“do what?”
“matt,” nick gives him the hardest stare he had ever seen, but it wasn’t harsh. the stare was instead knowing, and almost sympathetic. “what do you think chris would do.”
“chris isn’t here.”
“yeah, i know. he never fucking is half the time, but come on matt. it’s not right.”
“what am i supposed to do?” matt feels a sudden burst of frustration as his arm extends out in expression. “y/n’s my best friend. she was mine before she was chris’. you think he thought about what was right before he kissed her, before he asked her out?”
nick stares at him in silence. the remorse leaks from his eyes and matt can barely stand the look, but he can’t force himself to look away.
“chris doesn’t care, so why should i?”
“because you’re better than him.”
the words hurt even as they should be taken as a compliment. matt should’ve known better. matt was kind, and genuine, and he could never act on his bad intentions even if he wanted to because he knew better.
“yo, what’re you two fuckers doing?”
matt and nick break their held stare upon the loud call out from chris who was suddenly trekking across the front lawn. nick looked to him, while matt kept his eyes planted on the cement of their front porch.
“is y/n here? her car’s parked across the street,” chris places his hands on both their shoulders, his usual cocky perma smile planted on his lips.
“yeah, she’s inside,” nick nodded toward the door.
he nods, but his smile becomes pressed into a half frown, looking between them both.
“what’s wrong with you two?” he narrows his eyes on the both of them, catching onto the awkward silence still holding over them and matt’s lack in attempt to look at him. “you both good?”
“yeah, we’re fine. it’s just been a long night,” nick leans away from the hold chris has on him, rubbing his eyes as if proving his exhaustion. “go talk to y/n.”
he doesn’t believe it.
“matt?”
“yeah.”
“you okay, matty?”
“i’m great, chris,” he inhales through his nose sharply, finally looking up to him as if reassuring him. “y/n’s in the guest room.”
matt’s voice is strictly monotoned, ridding any reassurance he was trying to put out. a strange look crosses chris’ face at the short and dry answer and he’s beyond confused now. he studies his brothers face, to which matt can barely look right back anymore.
“okay…” he glances at nick, “i’ll talk to you two later. unless you want to bring this party inside?”
“we’ll catch you in a minute.”
he goes.
“nice one.”
“yeah, fuck you.”
nick let’s it slide off his shoulder, only looking at him with sympathy, “matt, what’re you gonna do?”
“i don’t know,” he sighs, scratching the back of his head. “same thing i’ve always done. be the better person and get over it.”
#matt sturniolo imagine#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo imagine#sturniolo triplets
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Gale’s oral fixation + John’s big thighs 😍❤️🔥
Criminally hot 🔥 I had to write a drabble. This is set in my modern AU where they're postgrad students and best friends with benefits already in love with each other but scared to confess it.
Exam papers flutter on the desk of Gale's supervisor as the fragrant spring breeze swirls in through the open window. The Astrophysics department's small office smells like old bookshelves, leather and coffee, more comforting than the Business School's sterile ultramodern building. But John isn't here to examine the decor - he came to entertain Gale because he thought it was unfair that he had to be holed up inside, grading papers when the weather was so nice.
That, and because John wanted to kiss him.
It's all he can think about lately. His best friend's lips, their plump cushion under his own, the taste of them, soft skin between John's teeth. Given their amazing, perfect, completely causal agreement that they'd help each other out quick and easy if needed, he didn’t have any hangups about it. But he did think it would be weird to just ask to make out without an end goal, so he pretended to be horny as an excuse, even though he wasn't.
He just didn't count on Gale being the one who'd be too turned on to resist a quickie right where they could be caught anytime.
"Jesus Christ, Buck." John hisses in the rolling chair of Gale's supervisor, his hips twitching to thrust into Gale's hand. In the grip of Gale's pale fingers, he throbs with hot need, Gale's spit slicking his length to make the friction just right as Gale strokes him. "Warn a guy next time."
"Warn?" Gale asks, lust low in his voice. He’s kneeling between John's spread legs, halfway under the desk. With his free hand, he tugs John's trousers and boxers down to bare his thighs completely.
"We started this whole thing because you said it would be convenient. That we could have each other anytime, no strings attached." He presses his lips to John's right thigh and bites down gently, his teeth digging into John's muscle. "I want you now."
"Fuck." John breathes out, gripping the armrests. He needs to swallow the moans already pressing at his throat, the guttural, helpless noises he tends to make in Gale's bedroom, because they're one curious professor away from scandal. "Can we close the window at least?"
"Nah." Gale nuzzles his thigh again, the corner of his lips curling into a smile. "I know you'll be a good boy, John."
John throws his head back against the headrest. "I'm really not."
He feels the huff of Gale's laugh on his leg. "Yes, you are." Gale sucks on a strip of John's skin noisily until it colours pink, sensitive. His expression is pure bliss. "My good boy."
A surprised whimper escapes John's throat. "What?"
Gale freezes for a moment, as if caught, but he goes back to rubbing and kissing John's thigh a second later. "Nothing."
"I don’t know what came over you." John mumbles breathlessly, slouching in the chair to give Gale better access to his cock, to chase Gale's teasing hand. His own fingers find their way to Gale's blond hair and tug as Gale leaves a hard bite on the meat of his thigh to mirror his work on the other side.
When Gale bats his right hand away, he puts the left on Gale's head instead. Gale gives him an exasperated look, then sits back on his haunches to get away from his demanding touch. His eyes roam over John's body lazily, his fist still moving up and down.
"You didn't sit like that on purpose?"
"Hm." John hums, pushing into Gale's hand. The chair rolls back a little, so he tightens the cradle of his legs around Gale's torso to stay in place. "Like what?"
"Like you wanted your dick sucked."
John closes his eyes as a wave of heat rolls down from the top of his head to his toes. "You have an oral fixation, I swear."
"Uh-huh." Gale just hums, his entire focus on John's cock now. He strokes his left hand over the bruises he sucked into the meat of John's right thigh, then he cups John's balls.
"Ah, fuck. You don’t even deny it."
Gale looks up at him from under his lashes as he leans forward. His body warm between John's thighs, his lips glistening.
"Why deny it?" He shrugs and kisses the tip of John's cock. Closing his eyes, he runs his pink tongue up the underside of it to the head, catching the drops of moisture beading there slowly from the torturous pleasure he inflicts on John's body. When John grunts, Gale looks at him again. There’s a playful glint in his eyes. "Be a good boy now, Bucky."
John puts his right hand back on Gale's head and presses his left fist to his mouth as hot, warm suction slides down his length and pulls his pleasure right out of his soul. Shadows pass behind the opaque glass of the door opposite him, people walking down the corridor. The star charts on the walls mirror the stars he sees behind his eyes as Gale sucks him leisurely, without a care in the world. No one walks into Astrophysics at four p.m. on a Friday, right? John prays, and squeezes his eyes shut against the pleasure as he thrusts into Gale's mouth.
He's gonna cancel his plans of going out and take Gale home again tonight.
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