#i will most likely also post this on ao3 once it’s finished
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Hie!!
Do you have any johnlock fic recs :3
( or parentlock, it consumes me )
Ooh so you want to go down this rabbit hole with me, then!
These are in no particular order, just fics I've read recently or just a handful of the many authors this fandom has to offer whom I respect deeply.
Parentlock has been all I've been reading for the last several weeks, honestly, been on a real kick & need it like oxygen!
I can't reccomend anything by JenTheSweetie on ao3 highly enough - her Parentlock is just deliciously in-character, witty and tangible. instruction manual not included and Immune to Your Consultations (feat. teenage Rosie, which we don't have nearly enough of in my opinion) have been my most recently read and are just *chefs kiss*
@lurikko also has written Ten Years (feat. scheming matchmaker Rosie) and A Weird Place (which is tagged 'Just raising their kid and being confused' and...yeah, succinct, brilliant summary, have re-read this one several times)
@arwamachine has written Indefinite Lines, a gloriously long post-S4 casefic featuring lots of lovely family dynamics between Sherlock, John and Rosie in between (one of the parentlock fics of all time, in my opinion) and I also got done reading Winning the Goat, which is so amazingly witty and comical and just generally wonderfully written.
Swan Dive by @hitlikehammers is 5+1 featuring an emphasis on the relationship between Sherlock and Rosie and is once again, brilliantly characterized and wonderful to read
Keep on Changing by philalethia is a good, spooky post-S4 parentlock fic (read it for Halloween, did not disappoint!)
I know @missdaviswrites has also written heaps wonderful parentlock stories and there are plenty of stories that feature Rosie as a character and lovely domestic/parenthood fluff out there on ao3 that I haven't listed (these are mostly ones I've read recently or that come to mind)
As for general Johnlock fics...! (Most of these, again, are what I've been reading recently or first come to mind)
until we fall asleep by @itsonlytext is set post-TLD and is angsty, tense, realistic, soft, quiet, and in-character all at once and is such a little hidden gem that not nearly enough people are talking about right now!
A Thrill Failed to Deliver by @jbaillier who I know by her dozens of stunning medical realism and angst fics, in my opinion never disappoints. Have never been happier to see an author come back from a hiatus, lol!)
An Ounce of Cure by @bakertumblings is another great medical realism fic, this time with John as the one getting hit with all the angst and whump
What it Can Be by @naefelldaurk is a spin on the end of TLD and offers a much more satisfying end, brilliantly in character and wonderfully paced.
@calaisreno just finished When Harry Met Mary which follows the events of S3/4 through Harry Watson's POV (brilliant fic for those who are sick of Harry getting reduced to nothing more than John's alcoholic sister; her role in this is brilliant, developed and enjoyable). Also read Déjà Vu which is part of her genius Off-Axis series (frankly in love with all of her AUs)
The Fallen series by @engazed is one I've started just recently but has already hooked me!
Thirst by @holmesianpose is another one I've just started, so not too far in, yet, but still wonderfully written thus far!
@gaylilsherlock wrote Cutting Out the Middle Man recently (along with the several other Johnlock fics they've been putting out at admirable speeds), featuring getting-together between John and Sherlock and Greg Lestrade as a wingman and the delicious Watson & Lestrade pub scene!
Double or Nothing by @crowson75 is a study in John's bisexuality, gripping casefic, wonderfully smutty and realistically characterized, post-S4 and finally sees these two idiots figuring themselves out.
Not a Johnlock fic (there is background Johnlock, though!) but instead it’s a Mystrade one, is The Habits of a Lifetime by @out-there-tmblr and is definitely a Greg x Mycroft story but also a beautiful and realistic 54k words of a Mycroft character study and is just too much of a favorite of mine for me not to put on a rec list.
I also highly reccomend anything written by @totallysilvergirl, @the-reading-lemon, @weeesi, and @7-percent.
Realizing so many of these are post S4 or S4 compliant but I just love some good fix-its, I suppose. Hope some of these are to your liking, as they are all certainly to mine :)
#fic recs#i always feel weird doing rec lists because there's just TOO many fics for me to list in one go#but these are all fairly recently written or currently being updated or just authors i really do adore and have done since before being on#hope you enjoy! (and hopefully one day i'll be able to self-rec as i've got my own parentlock fic on the way!)#ask#my rambles#bbc sherlock#sherlock holmes#john watson#johnlock#parentlock#rosie watson
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title: and your eyes look like coming home (2/6)
pairing: buckingham; background steddie
rating: G
summary: in which a bad date, getting drunk at brunch and some perfume forces them to finally talk about their feelings.
part 1
Robin heard a knock at her bedroom’s door but didn’t get immediately up to open it. The only person who it could be was Chrissy and Robin wasn’t ready to face her. Not after just getting her heartbroken first thing in the morning. But she also didn’t want to leave her hanging because despite the broken heart, Chrissy was one of her best friends and didn’t deserve the pouting when she did nothing wrong.
She sighed and sat up from where she threw herself on her bed an hour ago, but didn’t even reach her door before her phone buzzed with a new text. Her heart thumped painfully in her chest when she saw it was from Chrissy.
Hey, you probably fell asleep but I just wanted to let you know that I’m off for my date :)
Robin looked at the smiley face and groaned. How is it possible for someone to make everything so fucking cute?
Have fun with the boys at brunch!!
She sighed, throwing herself back on her bed to wallow in self-pity till Steve came to pick her up. She was not going to have fun with the boys.
“Whoa!” Eddie said when he saw Robin and Steve enter the boys’ kitchen. He looked Robin up and down with a raised eyebrow and a teasing grin. “Who died?”
Robin usually loved Eddie’s theatrics and 90% of the time she would even play along, but today was not one of them. Her heart wasn’t into it. It actually was still at home, under her pillows cuddling with Evie and trying not to cry.
“My heart.”
Eddie’s eyebrows were now both raised in surprise. He was still standing in the middle of the kitchen with the plates in his hands. Steve sighed behind Robin and finally moved, taking those plates and placing them on the table. Robin watched them as they smoothly held a conversation with only a few pointed looks and no words. Something that her and Steve were already pros at.
Something that her and Chrissy started doing too, lately.
Another pang of heartbreak shot through her chest and with a sigh, she made her way towards the table, taking the nearest chair to her. She didn’t even wait for the guys to finish their silent conversation before she reached for the raspberry mimosa pitcher and poured herself a glass.
“Uh, Buckley? Are you okay?”
Steve sighed again but said nothing. She already poured her heart out to him on the drive but she didn’t take into consideration that she’d have to do it again to Eddie.
She drank her full glass of mimosa before she replied. “Nope.”
Another silence. Another one of Steve’s sighs.
“Do you, maybe, want to talk about it?”
“No offense, Eddie, but you’re like the last person I want to talk to about this.” She poured herself another glass of mimosa. “Well,” she raised her glass and looked at it instead of either of the boys before drinking it all. There were pieces of raspberry seeds in the dark pink cocktail and Robin kind of hated them.This time she was waiting for Steve’s sigh and it almost made her smile. “More like second to last.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie whispered confused, probably to Steve rather than to Robin.
“She’s heartbroken because of Chrissy’s date.”
Robin’s jaw fell open in shock as both her and Eddie turned to look at Steve with equally surprised expressions for different reasons. She was surprised that her best friend, her platonic soulmate, her better half, would betray her like this. She didn’t know why Eddie was surprised.
“Chrissy?” Eddie turned to face Robin once again, still surprised. “You’re acting like this because of Chrissy’s date?”
Robin didn’t say anything but that seemed like an enough answer for Eddie because he shook his head while drinking his coffee.
“This is so dumb. I can’t believe this. Were we also like this?” The last part was directed to Steve who started laughing.
“Probably.”
“Damn. Remind me to buy Dustin and Max a gift next time we see them.”
Steve groaned. “Please don’t. They started acting like smug little shits once again ever since I proposed.”
Eddie chuckled and patted Steve’s hand that was resting on the table. Robin eyed their matching rings while sipping on her third mimosa. She watched them interact without saying anything both because she was already tipsy and because it was nice seeing her best friends happy and in love.
This thought, however, made her think of Chrissy and how she was probably going to be in love with someone else soon if her date went well, displaying their happiness and their love in front of Robin. She didn’t even realize she was crying till Steve gave her some tissues.
Okay, maybe she was drunker than she realized but she was heart broken and these mimosas were really good, so she didn’t care.
“Oh, babe.” Eddie said as he got up and came over to hug Robin to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” Robin said, voice muffled by his shirt. “I’ll get over it eventually. Chrissy is my best friend and I want her to be happy. She deserves it. She deserves to be in love and have someone love her and date her and hug her and kiss her and make her the happiest girl on this planet. I just- I just thought that that person was gonna be me.”
Eddie’s arms tightened even more around her shoulders and she also felt Steve’s big warm hand rubbing her back. She was now full on sobbing and making a mess of Eddie’s shirt, which made her cry even more because she knew that was one of his favorite shirts and she just ruined it.
She was glad they weren’t trying to comfort her with words because no matter what they’d say right now, nothing could mend her broken heart.
Except Chrissy. Chrissy always made her feel better after a broken heart. She always said and did the right thing, helping Robin get back on her feet faster than she thought possible.
It was one of the reasons Robin fell in love with her. Not the fact that she always helped her, but the comfort and understanding with which she handled Robin. The bad jokes she’d tell just to make her crack a smile through the tears. The warm touch of her body as she hugged Robin on their couch. She couldn’t remember when she started craving that touch outside the moments of comfort.
It all happened while she thought she was crushing on Nancy a few months ago. One day she was looking forward to meeting Nancy for movies, and the next all she could think of while sitting in the cinema was Chrissy’s big smile whenever she saw Robin get home. Or how she’d rather sit on the floor while Chrissy braided her hair and talked about whatever romance novel she was reading at the moment. Or how Chrissy liked to eat gummy bears instead of popcorn while watching a movie. Or the silly voice she’d use to talk to Evie.
She couldn’t even remember the movie or how she got home that night because her mind was suddenly flooded with Chrissy and how much she missed her, despite having seen her before leaving for the cinema.
When she got home, she got flooded with Chrissy’s perfume when Evie welcomed her at the door. She didn’t even get to take off her shoes before Chrissy’s voice called for her. She appeared soon after, warm and smiling and so inviting, that all Robin could think of were two things: I love you so much and so this is what home feels like.
part 3
#ellie scrie#buckingham#robin buckley#chrissy cunningham#i will most likely also post this on ao3 once it’s finished#i feel like there’s gonna be 2 more parts to this#anyway hope u’ll like it!!!
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yeah i used to read fan fiction cos i was a pervert fandom girlie in middle school. i'd read it on my fucking 3ds when i was supposed to be sleeping. but the only ones i remember are 2 davejohn homestuck fanfics with the following plotlines: (1) john is a prince betrothed to rose but he's really in love with his knight dave; (2) dave tried to kill himself and he was in the hospital or something and john was so depressed over this that he swallowed a bunch of sleeping pills and killed himself but then dave recovered and john was a ghost that haunted him.
#i have a tag for my repressed memories of homestuck but i can't remember what it is#anyway i think about both of those like at least once a month#i don't remember finishing the suicide one but i think i do remember like. most of the major plot points in the first one#and also i know i've made a different post about that fanfic where i name checked it but i can't remember what it's called anymore (good)#edit: while trying to find what my homestuck tag was i accidentally found the title. the heir and his knight but witty_name on ao3
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How I learned to write smarter, not harder
(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)
A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.
The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.
As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!
Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!
2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)
Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.
Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.
I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.
Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!
This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.
As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.
When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD
People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.
What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!
What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.
You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.
And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.
And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.
If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?
And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD
In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.
Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.
Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)
And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)
#creative writing#writers block#writblr#writers on tumblr#writing#writers and poets#writerscommunity#fanfic writing#writeblr#writing advice
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blow me instead?
– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt
pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader
genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!
cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating
words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !
notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3
m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3
dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!
you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.
maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.
you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.
it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.
it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.
you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.
“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle.
you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.
“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!”
you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing, but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.
the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.
pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away.
you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.
you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.
'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.
“felix, i–”
“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.
he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.
“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.
“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.
“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.
“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.”
your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.
“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”
“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.
“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”
“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.
felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.
he's undressing you with his eyes.
you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.
“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.
felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.
“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?”
goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising
“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression.
“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.”
“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.
felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.
you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms.
he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.
“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”
you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.
you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.
you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.
you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.
“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.
you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.
you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.
you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.
you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.
“harder.”
you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.
you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.
he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own.
“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.
“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.
the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.
he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.
you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.
you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.
felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.
you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.
your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.
the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.
you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.
you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.
your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.
“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.”
you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.
the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.
you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.
felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times.
you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.
he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.
“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.
you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.
“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…”
this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.
you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers.
your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.
you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.
his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing.
“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth.
he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.
felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away.
you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.
“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.
“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.
“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”
“true… so, what do you want?”
felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.
“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.
“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”
#kwritersworldnet#wkcnet#straykidsland#skz smut#stray kids smut#lee felix#felix#lee felix smut#felix smut#skz x you#skz x reader#stray kids x you#stray kids x reader#felix x you#felix x reader#lee felix x you#lee felix x reader
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Complimentary Colors
Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader
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WC: 7.3K
Summary: After recently joining the team, you and Spencer could never get along. What started off as you two ignoring each other turned into bickering at work. What happens when a stressful moment for you turns into an opportunity to get to know this fascinating coworker of yours?
tags: enemies to lovers, fluff, brief mentions of crime/murder at the beginning (talking about cases/kidnapping), reader is shy and anxious, reader looks young for her age. (reader might be female but i don’t think i specified)
A/N: I haven’t written anything in years and I’ve been on a criminal minds kick for a while. I had this idea loosely based off a prompt I saw on cai by (ApolloTheBoykisser) so thanks babes ;) also for once I had a fic of mine beta read lol my bestie beta read this for me. This is also posted on my AO3 page.
You had been working at the BAU for the last few weeks. You tried to get to know most of your coworkers and it seemed like you were making great progress. You had heard a lot about the team before you joined and were pretty intimidated by them at first. Okay- you were still pretty intimidated by them. But you pushed through your quiet exterior little by little and slowly but surely tried to get to know them.
All except for Spencer Reid. It seemed like he was trying to avoid you. He was always very quiet and would barely talk to you. Being a shy person yourself, you thought maybe he was just shy or a quiet guy. However, he continued to ignore you except for when he had to acknowledge you for work.
His coldness towards you was increasingly annoying as time went on, and your perception of him had slowly warped. The things about him you once found endearing, you now forced yourself to hate about him. If he rambled for too long, it could potentially make your blood boil. However, you could never stop paying attention to when he rambled on about facts or statistics. You didn’t want to admit it, but you found him fascinating.
It didn’t take that long for him to start acknowledging you, but this soon turned into the two of you bickering like children. When you were discussing cases or profiles, you both would argue over motives, victimology, crime scenes- literally anything about the case- you two could turn it into an opportunity to contradict the other. You both still kept a level of professionalism to not let your rivalry affect your job.
But there was always this tension between the two of you when you were in close quarters for too long.
And at some point you both reached your boiling point.
Last week, while the team was on a case, you and Spencer had gotten into a little spat once again. This time it went beyond the slight bickering or contraction. In the middle of the local precinct, you two were at each other's throats.
“What was that?” You asked after you and Spencer left the interview room that held a victims family.
“I was working off of the profile . . .”
“You mean the profile we haven’t finished?” You interrupted. “The one we are still currently working on and have yet to disclose?”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t work off of the information we already have,” he objected.
“You told her information we are still unsure about. We don’t know for a fact how long he keeps them alive,” you accused while placing your hands on your hips, trying to conceal your frustration but failing.
“Guys.” Someone tried to tone things down. Neither of you heard who and you weren’t backing down.
“If I remember correctly, I heard you discussing this very subject and inputting your thoughts . . .”
“You still shouldn’t have told her! Especially when you don’t know for sure if her daughter could be alive,” you seethed stepping closer.
“Would you rather me hide everything from the mother who’s suffering from the disappearance of her daughter?” He asked, matching your tone and taking a step forward.
“I didn’t say that!”
“It sure sounded like it.”
“Reid. Y/N.” The two of you turned your heads to your boss like two deer caught in headlights.
“With me, now.” Hotch demanded and led you to an empty interview room.
You could tell how angry he was- despite the fact that his stoic face represented almost every emotion in the book. But by the tone of his voice, you knew you and Spencer had messed up.
“You two do not only represent this team, you represent the bureau. These cops are already not pleased with the idea of their boss calling us in and I do not need you arguing in front of them and giving them a reason to take us off this case. You must learn to respect and cooperate with one another or I will take you both off this case. Do I make myself clear?” He lectured.
You both replied with a monotone “yes.”
“Good”
Ever since your argument, you both had been relatively quiet towards one another. Like it had been in the beginning when you were ignoring each other. But that didn’t stop you from letting him invade your mind at every waking minute. It almost saddened you in a way there was no more bickering or quick remarks with him. With how much it annoyed you, you never thought you would miss it.
The team had just finished a case and before everyone packed up and went home, Rossi announced that tomorrow everyone should come over for a little ‘get our minds off work’ get together. Your coworkers all thought it was a great idea to relax after the last few very stressful cases.
As excited as you were to finally go to one of Rossi’s house parties, you were also scared shitless. Parties with relatively new people in your life were hard. You were so quiet around new people and were scared to approach others; you often waited to be approached. To you, being a profiler was easier than having a social life.
But, maybe this time would be different. There’s not that many people on the team and you’d already started to familiarize yourself with them.
The next day, you were pulling up to Rossi’s house. If there was anything else to be intimidated by with this man- besides his years of experience in the BAU- it was this giant house. You were greeted by the man himself at his front door.
“Y/N, glad you could make it.” He opened the door and welcomed you in.
He led you inside to where everyone else was gathered. Everyone was cheery at your arrival. Penelope with her clicky heels ran up to you and greeted you with a hug. It was refreshing to be around people who were so welcoming. It made it a little bit easier to really let your walls down.
Well, almost everyone. Spencer gave you a small wave from where he stood.
The night continued on and you would occasionally engage in conversation with the team. At this point, you were off to the side- standing in the kitchen and occasionally sipping some wine that Rossi had been bragging about and was just so excited for everyone to try. You were a bit too overwhelmed to go back to talking. The music was getting a bit loud and the lights seemed to be too bright. You opted for sitting on the barstool next to the counter and observing everyone around.
They were all off in small groups or pairs around the house. All except for you and Spencer. He was another outlier and standing away from all the commotion. You looked over in his direction and he caught your eye. You both glared at each other and you quickly averted your gaze away from him. Your thoughts started to race and you began playing with your hair.
After a moment, he glanced over in your direction again when you weren’t looking. He was unintentionally profiling you and noticed you getting overstimulated. Your eyes laser focused like you zoned out, your foot tapping against the chair, and your hand anxiously playing with your hair.
While he wasn’t exactly your friend, he did understand what it felt like when social gatherings got overwhelming. He made his way over to you, careful not to make you more nervous or uncomfortable.
“You okay?” He asked you. You were pulled away from spacing out. His voice sounded a bit concerned- which took you by surprise. You were partially relieved someone approached you to help bring you back down to earth. That someone noticed something was off. What confused you was the fact that person was Spencer.
“I’m fine.”
He was well aware of what it meant when someone was “fine” and you were clearly not fine. He felt bad that you were so quick to shut down his attempt to check on you. After all, it was his fault and he knew that.
“Do you wanna step outside?” He asked.
You were conflicted. You didn’t want to be outside alone with him, but at the same time, you needed some time away from everything. Maybe it would help calm your nerves.
“Maybe for a bit.”
You followed him outside onto the back patio. You took note of the fresh air and the muffled sounds from inside. It all felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders. Pretty soon though, you realized how awkward it was to be outside alone with him.
Spencer cleared his throat and spoke to break the silence, “Sometimes these parties can be . . . a lot.”
“A little bit. I was doing fine for a while but I think my social battery is running low.” You confessed to explain your discomfort.
“Yeah” he replied. He appreciated the fact that you felt comfortable enough to express this with him. He tried to relate to you. “It’s the same with me. Sometimes I just need a moment to collect myself.”
“Exactly.” You were relieved to hear that he felt the same way. “Plus it doesn’t help that I'm so new to the team.” You crossed your arms and slightly closed yourself off.
“I was the same way when I first joined.” He told her to try and ease your concerns. You were just like him at some point. The new guy and just trying to figure out how you fit in.
“It’s difficult at first, but you settle down after a bit. Once you get to know everyone.”
“Yeah it’s just the whole getting to know them part is a bit . . .” You abruptly stopped, hesitating to reveal too much to him.
“A bit what?”
“Intimidating,” you confessed, avoiding his eyes.
He obviously noticed your hesitance and avoided his usual behavior with you. You were always so strong and quick to banter with him. But now you seemed vulnerable, and he didn’t want to take advantage of that.
“It’s not just you, I promise.” He was being honest. This was the calmest and most genuine conversation the two of you had ever had. “I find them all pretty intimidating.”
Your eyebrows raised at his confession. How could he possibly be intimidated by these people?
“Really? But you’ve known them for so long. You all are so close.”
“Close doesn’t mean you can’t be a little intimidated,” he replied. It might not make much sense, but it was the truth.
“I mean Hotch is always stonewall and silent, no matter what you say to him. And don’t even get me started on Morgan.” He joked, knowing you would understand.
You lightly chuckled at his joke. “I get what you mean.” You were starting to understand him more. You thought it was ironic that one of the team members you were first intimidated by was also intimidated by the team. Now he was starting to seem less intimidating or annoying and more approachable. You kinda liked seeing this new side of Spencer.
“I guess I’ve always been like that. Worried to get to know people or open up.” You weren’t entirely sure why you were telling him this, but you knew he would understand.
"I think when you're afraid of being hurt or judged or misunderstood by people, you try to keep your guard up." He told you, speaking from experience. From a young age until now, he's always felt misunderstood.
"And I think...maybe that's why you're on edge with me? You're not sure what to expect from me."
“Are you profiling me?” You asked jokingly. Spencer however thought you were serious and you noticed him tense up.
“I’m kidding.” Your expression softened to let him know you weren’t actually accusing him of profiling you. “I’m gonna be completely honest, I’ve been on edge with you cause I thought you didn’t like me.”
He was a bit taken off guard by your statement. But at the same time, he couldn't deny it. He didn't dislike you now, but at first, he wasn't exactly fond of you. And now he was ashamed of that.
"I didn't like you." He admitted. "I thought you were pretentious, too eager to be accepted. I think I saw you as competition."
Spencer’s comment did sting. It was never sunshine and rainbows to hear someone doesn't like you. However, you did take note of his language. He said “didn’t,” “thought” and “saw,” all past tense. Does this mean he doesn’t dislike you now? What you did appreciate was his reciprocated honesty. You both were making some progress in your relationship and you wanted to continue it.
“I was eager to be accepted. I wanted to feel like I belonged.”
“I know how you feel.” He expressed his sympathy. “I regret not giving you a chance. You’re not like I thought you were.” He also appreciated seeing this different side of you.
“You’re not like I thought you were.” You admitted.
A little smirk tugs at his lips, “So I’m not as pretentious and selfish as you thought?”
You lightly chucked, “I never thought you were selfish, but I did think you were a ‘know-it-all’ and trying to show off.”
Spencer really didn’t want you to think he was a show off. Sure- he had a vast amount of knowledge, but he never wanted you to think he was bragging or that he knew better than you. “I do know a lot but I promise I’m not trying to show off. I just have all this information in my head and I want to share it with people or I’m really passionate about something and want to talk about it.”
You understood that feeling all too well. There were so many times you wanted to ramble on about things you cared about or had knowledge on, but for the most part just stayed quiet. Meanwhile, he didn't keep quiet. He would go on and on. And while almost everyone else was either rolling their eyes or trying to shut him up, you were listening intently. You didn’t want to admit it back then, but now you were feeling up to it.
“I will admit, while I did think of you as a know it all, I found a lot of your tangents interesting.” You admitted.
His eyebrows raised in surprise. He was so used to people dismissing him. It was nice to hear you often would listen. “Really? You didn't mind me babbling on?" He asked, relieved with your response.
"I mean, it is something I have trouble with. I tend to talk too much.”
“Oh Dr. Reid I am very familiar with rambling and being worried about talking too much.” You paused for a moment- considering how much more you wanted to share with him. “I know it may not seem like it because I’m always quiet around the team but.. once I get comfortable around people, I actually get very rambly”
"You do?" He asked, sounding surprised. “About what?”
“Really anything. Mostly things I’m passionate about like you. I’ll also tend to go on tangents about memories or just things happening in my life.”
You made your way to a bench on the patio as you spoke. Spencer followed and sat down on a chair adjacent to you. You brought your attention back to him and noticed his focused gaze on you and he quickly licked his lips, a habit you noticed he did all the time.
"You really are a lot like me. You're just quieter at first." He added, teasing you a little. While he was not one for social cues, he had the sudden urge to be bold and make a joke. "Maybe next time I see you rambling, I won't immediately contradict you."
You dramatically dropped your jaw and placed your hand over your heart. “Wow, you really know how to give a compliment,” you said, pretending to be offended.
He laughed with a bright grin. "I'm sorry. Let me rephrase. The fact that you're so silent and reserved makes it that much more thrilling when I find out how much of a chatterbox you actually are." He joked, being playful as before.
Your cheeky smile slightly falters for a moment. You hoped he wouldn’t notice but he did. “I think you won’t be so thrilled once I actually turn into a chatterbox around you.”
"Actually I think I would find it intriguing." He told you, looking directly into your eyes. "The quiet ones tend to be the most interesting and complex when they do end up talking."
“I’m not that interesting.”
“I beg to differ. You’re very interesting. Probably the most interesting person on the team.”
Did he really say that? Did he mean it? Or was he just being nice? You tried not to profile him, but couldn’t help it. His body language expressed he was being honest. Uncrossed legs and arms, open palms, eye contact. The only thing you didn’t notice when studying his body language was his dilated pupils.
“Thank you,” you smiled at his compliment, “I doubt I’m the most interesting though. You maybe, Mr. Three PHDs and can read 20,000 words per minute.”
He smiled back at you, “Just because I'm well educated doesn’t mean you can’t be as interesting as me, if not more.”
You couldn’t believe he was saying such nice things to you. This was the first time you guys were actually making some kind of connection.. and it felt wonderful.
“I still can’t believe we’ve known each other for this long but are just now talking. And by talking, I mean not getting into a spat after speaking for more than 3 minutes.” You confessed with a hint of playfulness in your voice at your joke.
“Yeah, I feel like I barely know you.”
“What would you like to know?” You asked.
He thought for a moment trying to think of a question to ask. You noticed once again that he licked his lips, trying to concentrate.
“Let’s start with something simple. What’s your favorite color?” He asked.
“Wow, I think that’s a bit too personal.” You said, voice laced with sarcasm. You tried your hardest to contain your amusement but started to smile. He smiled back at you. At first, he was always confused with sarcasm and social cues. To be honest, he still was. But he could just tell with you. He knew when you were joking and when you were being serious. He found your sense of humor amusing.
“Yellow.” You answered. “What’s yours?”
“Purple.” He replied.
You intended to leave it inside your head- but a quiet “huh” made it past your lips as an idea came into focus.
“What? Is it my choice for my favorite color?” He tried to joke with you but was also a little bit serious.
“Oh no, it's just I thought it was interesting because those are complementary colors. You know how they are opposite on the color wheel?” You asked even though you figured he knew.
He nodded his head, “Yes! Because they are on opposite ends of the color wheel, when they’re used together it creates a vibrant contrast and enhances visual appeal. The two colors almost balance each other out and support each other's intensity. Complimentary colors are a key component to color theory.” He suddenly noticed how long he was talking and his posture stiffened. He pressed his lips into a thin line and avoided eye contact. “Told you I talk too much.”
“And I told you that I find your rambling interesting.”
His head perked back up at you. You genuinely wanted to listen to him. It was refreshing to talk to someone that didn’t cut him off or zone out.
“That’s kinda like us though, don’t you think?”
“What’s like us?” He asked confused, still thinking about the fact that you actually enjoy listening to what he has to say.
“How our favorite colors are complimentary colors. Like you said, they support each other's intensity. When you first see them they’re opposites, but the more you look the more they compliment each other.”
He softly smiles. “That does sound like us. The more we learn about each other, the more we find we have in common.”
There was a short pause where you both considered his statement. You did want to know more about him. You wanted to know all of him.
“Can I ask you a question this time?”
“Of course.”
“So, you're always reading. Like everywhere you go, you carry a book with you. I wanna know: what’s a book you could read over and over again and never get tired of?” You wanted to know beyond his favorite color. You wanted to get to the various building blocks that made him the way he was.
Spencer considered your question for a moment. Trying to go through the near infinite list of books he’s read in his life. You could tell he was concentrating on his answer because licked his lips. “Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.”
“Is he one of your favorite authors?”
“Yes.” He said almost immediately, confident in his answer.
“How come you like that book so much?” You asked.
You could see this sort of spark enter his eyes the more you asked about it. Giving him the chance to share his passions. ”Oliver Twist was one of the first books that used satire to deliver social commentary. Particularly in this book the social commentary was aimed at poverty in 19th century England. The book also quickly gained attention after its publication due to the scandalous subject matter in which crimes, such as murder, were depicted in detail.”
Spencer finally stopped rambling and almost looked as if he caught his breath from the endless talking. But what he was met with was your undivided attention.
”That sounds really interesting, maybe one day I should give it a read.” You say with a soft smile.
“You should,” he matched your smile, but it seemed a bit more sheepish due to his brief tangent. “Have you ever read Charles Dickens before?”
You shook your head in response. “I’ve never read anything by him. I actually don’t read much. But I used to in high school.” You revealed.
“What have you read?” He asked. He leaned slightly forward and unconsciously mirrored your body language and placed his right hand on his leg like you did yours.
“Pretty much the same books everyone else had to read for school.” You paused and tapped your fingers trying to refresh your memory.
“To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, 1984, um.. a few Shakespeare books.” You answered with the few books you could remember.
“Which one did you like the most?”
“I’m not sure”, you sighed and thought about his question, wanting to give him a genuine answer. “Maybe.. Macbeth. I remember finding the story interesting and I did a group project on Macbeth and Lady Macbeth's descent into madness. Like the scene where she’s hallucinating the blood on her hands.”
Your voice started to pick up speed and volume ever so slightly. He could tell you were getting more passionate the more you spoke. Subtly displaying how you could ramble once you opened up to someone. He smiled as you continued, happy to see that you felt comfortable enough around him to let a hidden part of yourself out into the open.
“I guess that kinda explains why I wanted to be a profiler and learn about psychology and forensics. I was interested in how Lady Macbeth's guilt manifested and caused her delusions. I wanted to understand why people did the things they did.”
“I can tell, you have this curiosity. You want to understand. Know the ‘why’. He mentally recalled the times you would express your curiosity during work.
“Yeah, pretty much.”
He pressed his lips in a line. “Is it- is it my turn to ask you something now?” He stuttered slightly.
“I mean you don’t have to. It’s nobody’s ‘turn’ but you can if you want.”
“I do.” He replied immediately. The corners of your mouth perked up into a small smile. He mirrored you.
“I may be stealing your previous question. Like you said you don’t read much. But I have noticed you listen to music a lot. I want to know a song you could listen to over and over again.”
He was right, you often listen to music. Mostly on your way into work or on the jet, you would be wearing your signature headphones and have some playlist on. It was your own way of coping with the stress of your job. You looked down at the ground as you recalled the songs in your favorite playlist.
“Dreams by The Cranberries.” You brought your eyes back up to face him. But what you saw was confusion in Spencer’s eyes. He tried to hide it but you knew better. “Have you heard that song?”
He did that little sideways pout you often saw him doing when he was in awkward situations.
“I’m not sure,” he replied. Spencer broke eye contact, embarrassed he didn’t know something from pop culture.
“It’s okay. Remind me next time I have my headphones and I’ll show you.” You spoke calmly to reassure him there was nothing to be embarrassed about.
He brought his attention back to you. Relieved to hear your gesture instead of a quip about his lack of pop culture knowledge like he was used to.
“I will.”
“Alright my turn.” You shifted your weight and brought your legs up to your side so your whole body could face him. “Um, it's kind of a personal question though. I’m curious about something.”
“Go ahead. What is it?” He asked, giving you his whole undivided attention.
“Does it ever bother you when people question your age when you say how educated you are?”
He was somewhat thrown off by your question, but something told him you've wanted to ask him this for a while.
He furrowed his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t say it bothers me. Considering I have had such an extensive education so early in my life, it’s completely understandable that someone would question how I did it at a young age.”
“Hmm,” you hummed in response. He knew that wasn’t the answer you were looking for.
“Can I ask you something personal?” He asked before asking his real question. He appreciated your concerns about potentially pushing a boundary and he reciprocated it. He didn’t want to break this newfound friendship- if he could call it that- by making you uncomfortable.
You nodded your head, silently telling him it was okay.
He slightly fidgeted with his hands. “Did you ask me that because people question your age?”
“Yes,” you answered hesitantly. “I’ve never looked my age.”
He thought about his next question before asking. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, I’m just trying to understand. Why does that bother you?”
“It bothers me when people don’t take me seriously. I mean I’m in my late 20s and some people still think I look fresh out of college. It hasn’t happened as often since I joined the BAU but so many people in law enforcement don’t take me seriously. People tend to think I’m too innocent to have a job like this.” You confessed to him as you avoided looking him in the eyes.
"I wouldn't say you're innocent.” His comment brought your eyes back to him.
“But you do have a soft demeanor. It makes you approachable. If anything, those qualities are an incredible asset to this job whether it be when you're speaking to victims or their family members.”
Even though he would often throw snarky retorts to you in the past and try to get under your skin, he always admired how good you were at your job. Of course, you were an amazing profiler and had no trouble standing against dangerous unsubs. But the way you handled incredibly sensitive situations with such calmness and comfort with others was admirable. During cases with children, you were able to ease their worries and provide a safe space.
“While you are very sweet and shy, I would never call you innocent.”
“Thanks,” you smiled at his compliments. You felt understood hearing his affirmation. It also warmed your heart to hear that he thought so highly of you. Especially since the last few weeks, you thought he hated your guts. Although- his comment did make you more curious about how you were perceived. “Half the time I don’t realize how shy I am or how I present myself,” you weakly chuckled.
“There were actually a lot of ways to deduce that you're shy,” he matched your lighthearted tone but also kept a sense of seriousness to prove he was being genuine.
“Was it the fact that I was sitting by myself and scared to talk to them?” You half joked as you figured that’s what he was going to imply.
"That was part of it, yes. But besides that, it was the way you often avoid direct eye contact, and the tone of your voice. It's gentle and low, as if you're afraid of coming on too strong.” He was too caught up in his thoughts and observations to realize how much he was divulging. “You keep your distance and your words are always measured or not overly assertive. Almost like if you do come off assertive you will receive backlash."
When he met your eyes again, he noticed how frozen you were. On the outside you didn't reveal much, simply had a stoic expression. He knew you better than that. He knew that he had hit a nerve and started to panic that he went too far. He had finally wrecked this slowly growing friendship like he thought he would, by being himself.
“Wow, yeah that sounds pretty spot on,” you agreed. You sounded soft spoken and played with your hair again, of course without your knowledge.
“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He abruptly spattered in a panic.
“No it’s okay really,” you interrupted trying to reassure him. “I just didn’t expect you to be so ... correct.”
He pressed his lips into a thin line, relieved he didn't mess things up, but still slightly worried he had left you feeling exposed. "I guess I'm just good at noticing things about people,” he shrugged.
“You forget, we get paid to notice things about people,” you joked with him, trying to make him feel better by lightening the situation. Of course, it worked.
"That's true." He chuckled and paused for a moment to consider. Then he continued with his profile of you.
"It's just the way your voice softens whenever you become uncomfortable, almost whispering or lowering in tone. Or your nervous habits, like when you play with your hair." It was a gesture he was pretty keen on catching.
You suddenly were very aware of the fact you were playing with your hair. You quickly dropped your hands and crossed your arms.
"It's not bad that you do that, you know,” his voice had a slight crack in it. “It's just something you do subconsciously." He told her, trying to be comforting.
“Do you wanna know something you do subconsciously?” You asked, your voice with a hint of teasing. You decided that if he was going to profile you, you were going to profile him back.
He noticed your tone and that you had gained a bit more confidence. "Sure, hit me." He said as he awaited your reply with curiosity and interest.
“You poke your tongue out a lot or lick your lips. Most of the time when you’re concentrating or lost in thought. Which means you definitely need to start using chapstick. I’ve seen you do it a lot since we’ve been out here.” You explained.
"So, are you telling me my lips are dry?" He replied playfully, his grin widening.
“They probably are,” you lightly laughed at the silliness of his question. He laughed along with you and subconsciously went to lick his lips again, but caught himself.
“I'm gonna be thinking about this so much more now,” he confessed.
“Consider it payback for pointing out how much I play with my hair when I'm anxious. I don’t know what to do with my hands now,” you remarked as you dramatically waved your hands in the air.
“Sorry,” he awkwardly apologized.
“I already told you it’s alright. You're not the only one who analyzes behavior. I’ve noticed plenty of things you do and why you do it.”
“Like what?” He furrowed his eyebrows, curious what particular things about him you had profiled. He noticed something though. The confidence you once had, had washed away after you collected your thoughts.
“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable,” you stated.
"You won’t make me uncomfortable,” he responded almost immediately. “I promise. I really want to know.”
You took a deep breath before explaining your observations. “You desperately want to be heard. You love to share the endless knowledge you have, but when someone walks away or cuts you off your reaction is almost that of deflating. And when someone does show a bit of interest in what you have to say your voice perks up and almost cracks with excitement. Then you talk a lot faster, probably a mixture of excitement and as a way to keep the other person engaged and to not lose their attention.”
Spencer carefully listened to every word you said. Not a single deduction was false. You had read him like a book in the short time you knew him. You noticed something about him that most of the team couldn’t pick up on.
"You're right about everything,” he said with a soft tone. Almost everyone interrupted him, you never did. This got him thinking. Of course everyone on the team made observations about each other, they’re profilers of course. However, he wondered why you had made so many about him.
"Are you always this observant about everyone? And I mean everyone. Or is it just me that gets the special treatment?" He asked his last question with a hint of a teasing tone.
You scoffed, “yeah right, like you get special treatment.” You thought about your response, not wanting to reveal too much.
“I guess I might have paid attention to you because you were the only one who was so closed off to me. I wanted to know why. I wanted to know who you were even if you weren’t going to tell me.”
He was right, you were paying him special attention. The fact that you wanted to know who he was despite his closed off nature revealed enough.
“So you admit it, I get special treatment?" He cheekily asked.
“Oh shut up,” you retorted.
“Make me.”
Your lips pursed, holding back a smile.
Spencer noticed you were trying to hold back a smile and found it endearing. He also noticed something else about your reaction. You were blushing. You blushed as a result of his taunting. He got lost in the thought of you blushing from him.
“Something you wanna share with the class?” You teased.
He didn't want to admit it, not yet at least. He wanted to make you sweat just a little bit and get a reaction out of you.
"I'm curious about something. Could you tell me what would cause someone's cheeks to flush?" He tried to seem genuine but of course he came off with a hint of cheekiness.
You furrowed your eyebrows. You were completely oblivious to your red face and were confused by his random inquiry.
“Are you questioning my profiling skills?” You lightly scoffed, not knowing what his true intentions were.
"No, not exactly. I just want to know what you think.”
Your expression changed to one of confusion but also amusement. You decided to play along with his little game.
“Well psychologically blushing could mean a multitude of things. Embarrassment, stress, anxiety, attraction.” While your voice stayed consistent, he noticed the change in your breath and how your eyes darted away from him. It was a brief expression, but he caught it. He got the answer he was looking for.
"And which one of those can explain why you’re blushing?" He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he leaned closer to you.
Your stomach dropped and eyes widened. You shifted your weight in your seat and touched your cheeks. “I’m not blushing..” You ignored his question.
"You are.”
You sighed and stood up, “Well if I am it’s probably because you just pointed it out and I’m embarrassed.”
"Oh, really?" He taunted and followed you. "I think that you might be blushing for a different reason."
You bit your lip out of frustration and crossed your arms. “Are you profiling me Spencer?”
"Maybe I am,” he smirked. "I would say that maybe you've been so interested in me that you've been paying a lot of attention. That's why you took note of so many of my habits and behavior."
Your face got redder and you started playing with your hair again. You huffed, “I told you before, the reason I paid attention to you was because I didn’t know you.”
"Sure, but you pointed out how you kept noticing I licked my lips. Why were you looking at my lips in the first place?"
You were caught between a rock and a hard place. “Why are you so interested in why I’m blushing or looking at your dumb face anyway? Why do you care so much?” You asked defensively.
He couldn’t respond, he froze up.
“I mean, you question why I pay so much attention to you but here you are doing the same thing to me. Trying to read me like a book,” you accused.
He cleared his throat and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess we're both curious about each other."
“I guess we are,” you responded. You saw his cheeks turn pink in reaction to your questioning. “Look who’s red now.”
If his face could even get redder, it did. For a man that could probably say a thousand words a minute, it seemed like none of them could fall from his lips.
It was your turn to smirk. “I can’t believe I’ve managed to leave you speechless. Never thought that would happen.”
"Shut up,” he sheepishly scoffed.
“Make me.”
Spencer felt his stomach flutter, he smiled bashfully at your mimicking his own teasing. The seconds passed and neither of you spoke, neither of you had words. Both of you in your own heads. In your head, you got a stroke of confidence. You didn't know where it came from, maybe the teasing, maybe the fact that you had him speechless. But you took it and ran with it.
”Maybe the reason you wanted to know why I was blushing so badly, is the same exact reason I was blushing,” you mumbled.
The realization hit him in waves. You just admitted to the very thing he was trying to get out of you in the first place. He was speechless once again, but this was different. He stared at you with a stunned look, not knowing what to do.
You took his blank expression as a negative reaction, thinking you came off too strong. You slowly backed away from him, regretting putting yourself out there.
“Sorry. I don’t know why I said that. Just forget it.” You turned around to go back inside but felt something on your wrist. You turned around and saw Spencer had grabbed your wrist to stop you. His eyes wide and breath heavy.
"No. Don’t,” he begged.
"Really?" You whispered softly.
He smiled, "yes. Please don't take it back."
You smiled back at him bashfully. Spencer’s reaction make your stomach do backflips, but it made you wonder.
"Can I ask, why did you pay such close attention to me?
He released his light grasp on your wrist and instead placed your hand in his. "I couldn't stop analyzing every single detail about you. I wanted to know you inside and out. There was something about you that felt intoxicating. After every time I spoke to you, even if it was just us bickering or arguing, I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
He looked down at your joined hands and started to rub his thumb over your hand. You looked up at him and smiled, glancing at his lips. “Well you definitely must be thinking about something now, you licked your lips.”
He couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. You made him feel like he was on full display, like he was a book that only you could read.
He slightly blushed at your comment. “I am. Can you guess what I'm thinking about?"
You grabbed his other hand with yours as a smirk grew on your face, “How close we are. How it’s probably driving you crazy..” You nearly whispered the last part as you leaned closer to him, “how I’m making you crazy..”
"You do.” Spencer wrapped one of his arms around your waist and placed his hand on the small of your back. A shiver ran down your spine as his hand touched your back. Of course, he could tell and was light headed by the effect you had on him. He’d never felt so intoxicated by someone before. “You’ve made me a mad man ever since I met you.”
Your heart was beating so fast it felt like it was going to burst out of your chest.
“What about you?” He asked. “Do I make you crazy?”
You glanced between his eyes and his lips.
“Yes..”
It was like you both were on the exact same wavelength. You both dove in at the same time and slammed your lips together. Both of you just so desperate to get a taste of the other. The kiss was tender and passionate, with no single person in control. You both moved together in synced motions. All of the arguments, all the tension that had been slowly building up could be released.
When you finally parted, Spencer rested his forehead against yours. You felt his airy breath as he tried to come back down to earth. You placed a hand on his face and stroked his cheek with your thumb.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks,” he breathed.
“I can tell,” you chuckled. “what’s stopping you from doing it again?”
“Do you want me to?” He asked desperately.
You placed your other hand on the back of his neck, “I love hearing you talk.. but shut up and kiss me.
Before today he never liked the idea of you telling him what to do. But now, he was at your mercy. He didn’t hesitate and locked your lips with his once again. You both melted together like lovesick teenagers. But moments like these of course don’t last forever.
The sound of the patio door opening fell deaf on both your ears. It wasn’t until you heard Derek Morgan that you both pulled away from each other.
”What’s going on out here?” Derek questioned with a smirk.
You and Spencer couldn’t speak, too frozen to react.
His grin only grew, “My man,” he chuckled as he glanced at Spencer.
“Don’t kill each other while you're out here.” Derek left the way he came and closed the patio door.
You sighed, “He’s gonna tell someone isn’t he?”
“Yup”
~
He made his way back to his coworkers with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “What’s got you all happy?” Emily asked.
“Looks like our two angry birds are now two love birds,” he answered.
“What? What are you talking about?” Penelope sprinted over as fast as she could with her heels.
“How I just caught Reid and Y/N making out.”
The room exploded with chaos at the reactions to his news.
JJ, who was standing off to the side with Hotch, furrowed her eyebrows, “I thought they hated each other?”
Hotch glanced towards the patio door and saw the light shadow of two figures. “No they don't. Not really.”
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x you#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds headcanons#enemies to lovers
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JJK Fanfic Recos
Hi. These are some of the fanfics I've read.
I've read A LOT but I'll only be including the ones I really enjoyed reading.
I'm in the process of recollecting them, please bare with me.
I'm also updating this post often, so whenever I end finishing a fic I like I just post it here. hehe
💓 - Fluff ❤🩹 - angst 🥵 - smut 🚨 - violence/drugs 🤪 - crack ⭐ - fav 🎣 - latest addition to the list
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. SERIES ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
My Love is Here - @/solemnreads
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹 (so much angst, I love it), 🥵 summary: "You didn’t mean for it to happen. It’s not like you purposely woke up one day and thought “Hey I’m going to fall in love with my best friend!” No, that is not at all what happened."
Knife's Edge - @/readyplayerhobi
Completed ✅
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵, 🚨 The Jeon Clan is Family, built on blood and loyalty. It’s been an unspoken fact that one day you will marry the heir to the Clan, Jeon Jungkook. You would be a fool to deny that you love him, but what happens when you meet a blue haired man who offers you a chance at normality?
Four Seven Eight - @/jiminrings
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹 (fic made me cry) ,🥵 you’re secure when it comes to loving jungkook, knowing that your husband loves you beyond words. what you aren’t so secure about is his first love — someone who isn’t you.alternatively, jungkook’s married to you, but he still celebrates his anniversary with his ex out of sentimentality.
Close to you - @/muniimyg
Completed ✅ ⭐
genre: 💓, 🤪 It should've been easier than this, right?In which oc and Jungkook sleep together and he can't get over it.
Falling Skies - @/fortunexkookie
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 Jeon Jiyeon was your childhood best friend; her brother, Jungkook, was something else entirely. Once upon a time, she had called you her sun and him her moon; it was fitting, given the constant push-and-pull between you two. You used to consider him a friend, but then he had gone from endearingly frustrating dumb boy to card-carrying fuckboy so fast it had given you whiplash.
Please Love Me - @/ahunderedtimesover
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 As the only unmarried Jeon and Kim children, your families propose a union to symbolize your unbreakable bond that spans generations. But despite developing an affection for Jungkook growing up, he never returned it; he never seemed to like you, actually. You’re okay with the proposal, but surprise surprise, he isn’t.
Lowkey - @/xpeachesncream
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹, 🥵 In order to pass organic chemistry and pay off your car damages from an accident, all you have to do is help the nerd, Jeon Jungkook, with a few things: pretend to be his girlfriend and teach him the way of dating.
Hotter Than Hell - @/chateautae
Completed ✅ ⭐
Genre: ❤🩹, 🥵 Jungkook, Lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he's unsure of. Embarking on his journey for the answers should've been easy, if it weren't for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. Kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover Lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and Jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
An Ode to a Broken Heart - @/smoochkooks
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤🩹 (bro I've been crying over this fic for days), 🥵 (future smut) you’ve watched jeon jungkook slip out of your reach your entire life. now it’s time for you to finally move on, bury the past and open a new chapter. however, you’re doing it in your own, unconventional way - by publishing anonymously a novel about your miserable relationship.
Mutual Help - @/personasintro
Ongoing... ✍ (this is also posted on AO3)
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 (damn... that's all i can say) in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
Way Back Home - @/solemnreads
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹 (please i really love angsty fics, fite me), 🥵
"Please tell me this isn't what I think it is" he asks you with tears in his eyes. You look down at the sight of your son with an oxygen mask on his face while your daughter is sleeping on the couch near the wall. You look into his eyes, broken, and sad. You've dreamt of this day for years, wondering how he would react. But here you are, hoping he could've meet the twins under different circumstances. "Yes... they're your children."
Strawberry Kisses - @/pixieknj
Ongoing... ✍
Genre: ❤🩹, 🥵 (Chapter 1 has been posted, but its something else) Jungkook is notoriously known as a f^ckboy who doesn’t eat p^ssy, until he finally gets alone with you…
⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚. ONE-SHOTS or TWO-SHOTS ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚.
The Right Choice - @/honeytae
Genre: 💓 for as long as you've known Jungkook, you would think that you're witnessed all sides of him. But when you notice the way he's looking at you right now, you think you may be wrong about that.
Rainy Days - @/rklve
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 Your life choices left not only yours, but Jungkook's hear broken in pieces. Now you're back in town, and just like Pluto, even if its cold and dark he tends to orbit around his sun forever.
High Demand - @/bunnyhugs77
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🚨 A modern day Romeo and Juliet
SOJU - @/hoseoksluna
Genre: ❤🩹,🥵 Jungkook gives you all that he has—his feelings, his dominance and his cum.
Lost & Found - @/kooktrash
Genre: ❤🩹 (if you squint), 🥵 your college years have never been something you dwelled on for too long. you didn’t want to think of all the chances you lost and that’s why when the guy you had a crush on moves back to town, you try not to let it affect you again. but then he brings up old memories that didn’t go the way you thought they had and you’re thrown for a loop. you’re stuck between finding something new with him and falling back into old habits of never standing up for yourself. it probably doesn’t help that he dated your best friend, where everything seemed to go wrong.
Bottle Up Old Love - @/wintaerbaer
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 Jungkook may have broken up with you a year ago, but that's not going to stop him from coming to your rescue when he sees you being cornered by a creep.
Pink Sapphire - @/jiminrings ⭐
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹(please I'm a sucker for this) ,🥵 Having Jungkook as a husband is great as far as arranged marriages could go; he's easy to love. Your relationship's perhaps become so easy that Jungkook doesn't think sometimes— and that's what makes it the easiest for you to hate him.
Will it fit? - @/jeonsweetpea
Genre: 💓, 🥵, 🤪, ❤🩹 (just a little bit) So what if your roommate caught you masturbating? At least he forgot about it the next day. But he can't exactly forget the big dildo you left in your shared bathroom...
Break up with your Boyfriend - @/spideyjimin
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 Jungkook, the campus fuckboy, has decided to make you his next victim, but you're far from being like any of his previous hookups. You're not single. You're actually in a very long-term relationship with Baekhyun, the man you consider the love of you life, but it's for sure something that won't stop Jungkook. He wants you, and he's going to do absolutely everything to have you, even falling in love.
Paint me naked - @/gimmethatagustd
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹,🥵 After the mysteriously hot guy in your university class starts taking an interest in you, should you really trust that he's not like all the other college fuckboys? Especially when his best friend is the guy who broke your heart?
I hate you, I love you - @j/ungblue 🎣
Genre: ❤🩹,🥵 You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends... and you're absolutely in love with him; he's in love too—just not with you.
How to Get a Guy - @/taeshobipop 🎣
Genre: 💓, ❤🩹, 🥵 Star basketball player Jeon Jungkook has a reputation as the ultimate fuckboi. He's loved by everyone. Everyone. And you would have followed suit if he had not broken all your strict Roommate Rules™ within the first week of his stay. Jungkook, on the other hand, thinks you're absolutely bizarre. But there's a silver lining— Mr. Fuckboi here knows basketball captain Min Yoongi, your dreadfully clueless crush. He strikes up a deal with you: he'll teach you the ways of flirting if you lessen your load of rules (so Jungook can continue persuing his way through the ladies on campus). Yet the longer Jungkook spends with you, the more he realizes that maybe he doesn't want to tbe the campus fuckboi anymore. The problem is, how does he prove that to you?
#jjk x reader#jeon jungkook#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine
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Teacher’s Pet
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Jonathan Crane x reader
Summary | After months of trying to earn your professor’s praise, he finally gives you an opportunity to prove you deserve it.
Warnings | Smut, dub con, blackmail, coercion, humiliation, anal, bondage, praise, creampie, degradation, inappropriate use of fear toxin.
Words | 6.2 k
Notes | Started this a million years ago. Finally got the motivation to finish it cause of @hllywdwhre ‘s fic that I proofread lol. Also ty to the post that gave me the fear toxin idea 🙏🏻
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
In honor of the one year anniversary since the start of my Cillian hyperfixation <3
Dr. Crane was one of the most strict and unforgiving professors at Gotham University. He graded harshly, didn’t tolerate late or incomplete work, and no one would ever dare be late— if they were, they just wouldn’t show up because an absence was better than his response to tardiness. He didn’t have any favorite students, just some that he tolerated slightly more than the rest. That was what you hated the most.
You’ve always been the favorite student for every single teacher you’ve had, whether they said it out loud or not. After the first couple of weeks, you figured he’d just be harder to crack than the rest. But after almost two months, you were starting to get frustrated. Nothing you did ever earned you any sort of praise. You were always early, always the first to turn in assignments, participated in class, paid attention— you were the perfect student. But he never seemed to recognize that. What made you snap was when he gave you a B on your latest essay.
Lightly knocking on his office door, you tried to control your nerves and push down the nausea— You’ve never had to talk with a teacher about a grade before…
“Come in.” He called out. So you opened the door and hesitantly stepped inside. He glanced at you quickly, then did a double take once he realized it was you. “Close the door.” He said, resuming what he was doing. You took in a quiet, deep breath and closed the door before walking over and sitting on the chair across from his desk.
“I’m assuming this is about your essay?” He asked, not even looking up from his work.
“Yes.. You gave me a B, I was hoping to understand why.” You said tentatively.
“Did you not read my notes?” Of course you did. But it still didn’t make any sense.
“No, I did, but-” He finally looked up at you with a sigh.
“Then you should understand why I gave you that grade.”
“This essay was practically perfect.” You argued, holding up the stapled together pieces of paper, marked up with red ink.
“Clearly not if you got a B.” He raised his brows and you clenched your jaw, trying not to get too upset or emotional.
“Dr. Crane, I’ve aced every single test and assignment, I’d hardly say this is a fair grade.” You frowned.
“Your argument was weak and biased.” Your lips parted in shock at the bluntness of his criticism. “And your previous assignments have no impact on my grading. If you’d like them to though, I’d be more than willing to grade them again to see if I missed anything.”
“It- it wasn’t… I spent weeks on this.”
“And yet… You still weren’t good enough for an A.” He said, making your stomach churn. Especially because he didn’t even say ‘your essay’ he just said ‘you.’ Looking down at the papers in your hands, you scanned them quickly as if it would magically give you the answer. “Review my notes for the next essay. Maybe you’ll do better.”
“What is your problem with me?” You snapped, looking up at him again, watching his brows raise slightly. “Have I done something to offend you?”
“I don’t tolerate entitled students who are used to being the teacher's pet. Whatever previous, unearned success and praise you're used to receiving is of no concern to me. It is not my fault if you came into this class expecting to be treated differently for doing the same thing as every other student.”
“I- I’m not.. entitled. I just like my work and effort to be appreciated and not.. given a B.”
“You want me to tell you that you’re such a good girl, turning in everything on time— as expected— and doing well on your assignments— as expected.” The faux praise, as well as the condescension that laced his voice, made your cheeks heat up instantly.
“No, but,”
“Then I think we’re done here.”
The next day, you almost considered not going to class, but you’ve never had an absence on your record and you’re not about to start now.
“We’re going to deviate from the lesson plan a little and talk about something else today; fear. Specifically, fear of rejection.” Your mouth dropped open at his words and if you had any doubts that this was because of your previous conversation, they quickly disappeared when he made eye contact with you.
“There are a few different causes, can anyone give me an example?” This would’ve been the time where you raised your hand. But that apparently wasn’t necessary because he called on you anyway, making you freeze.
“Um, I— I’m not sure.” You said nervously, sinking back into your chair a little.
“There’s a perfect example right there; anxiety and social comparison. Too anxious and insecure to answer a simple question. Who else can give an example?” You stared at him with wide eyes that quickly started burning with tears. Now you felt even more stupid than you would’ve, had you just answered him and potentially gotten it wrong.
Class dragged on slowly. He talked more about causes, what it looks like, how it affects performance— especially in school— and various treatments.
You couldn’t have been more relieved when he finally dismissed the class. You rushed to pack your things and stood up, quickly making your way to the exit.
When he called your name though, you froze, praying you heard him wrong. “Stay back for a moment.” Your peers gave you sympathetic looks as you turned around and slowly made your way back over to his desk.
“Yes, professor?” You asked, voice strained.
“I hope you found today's lesson helpful.” You gritted your teeth and gave him a dry smile.
“It was… inspiring, Dr. Crane.” You said plainly, trying to control your tone. His expression was only becoming more and more amused.
“I’m glad. Though I didn’t see you taking notes.” That made you falter.
“I- I was,”
“Great. Let me see them.” You looked away from him and shifted your weight awkwardly.
“See them?”
“Did you not understand?” Your face flushed with anger and embarrassment at his patronizing tone.
“I did. I just wasn’t aware that notes were something you needed to see.”
“If a student isn’t paying attention for the entirety of my class then, yes, notes are something I need to see.” You swallowed thickly, trying to come up with a response, and he watched you intently as he waited.
“Look, professor, you’ve made your point, okay? I don’t think you need to continue humiliating me.” You said quietly, not looking at him. He let out a heavy breath through his nose and you watched in your peripheral vision as he took off his glasses, setting them down. He slowly rounded the desk and you couldn’t help it when you instinctively took a step back.
“That’s a shame. I had hoped this lecture would’ve been helpful, but since you clearly weren’t paying attention, maybe I need to try another method.”
“I- I was paying attention…” You muttered, keeping your head down.
“Really? Then why don’t you tell me some of the ways one can overcome a fear of rejection.” He leaned back on his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. The feeling of his eyes on you almost made you shiver and you took a quiet, deep breath before lifting your head to look at him again.
This is an easy enough question. You can probably figure out the answer if you just use critical thinking since he was correct about you not paying attention.
“Um… cognitive behavioral therapy?” You waited and when he didn’t out right humiliate you, you assumed that was a right answer and continued. “Exposure therapy. Self esteem enhancement… Emotion regulation?”
“Anything else?”
“…You said “some.’” You muttered, briefly looking away from him again.
“I did, didn’t I?” His tone made it clear that he didn’t care about what he previously said.
“Um, I- I’m not sure…”
“Feel free to use your notes.”
Fuck.
When you looked up and saw the almost smug expression on his face, you finally snapped. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that for one day, I couldn’t pay attention after you humiliated me in front of the entire class.” You spat, clenching your jaw as soon as you finished speaking. The longer he stayed silent, the more uncomfortable you became under his gaze, making you look away from him awkwardly.
“Tell me why this shouldn’t affect your grade.” You knew his question was rhetorical, but you still tried to defend yourself.
“Dr. Crane,” You started, but he raised his brows, silently warning you to not talk back.
“I’ll see you later today during my office hours.” He said as he packed up his belongings.
“But,”
“Five pm.” He didn’t let you continue as he walked toward the door. All you could do was stand there and watch him leave.
At 4:30 you paced around your dorm, debating what to do. At 4:35 you decided not to go. At 4:40 you changed your mind. At 4:50 you were pacing outside his office. At 4:55 you finally knocked, feeling like you could throw up at any second. He called out for you to enter, so you hesitantly opened the door and stepped inside.
“Close the door and sit down.” He didn’t even look up from what he was working on. You closed the door quietly, then made your way over to the chair in front of his desk. You tried to sit there patiently, but he wasn’t saying anything. Your leg bounced incessantly as you picked at your cuticles, over thinking more and more with each tortuous second that dragged on.
“Professor?” You finally asked.
“You’re early. I told you to come at five and I need to finish this.” He still didn’t look up from whatever “this” was and you were quickly growing angrier.
Was this some kind of mind fuck? Making you sit here, stewing in nerves that were only getting worse? You weren’t sure how much time had passed because you didn’t want to check your phone and give him another opportunity to chastise you. But after a while, he finally sighed and gathered the papers, setting them in a pile on the side of his desk.
You forced yourself to stop bouncing your leg and place your palms flat on your thighs to keep from fidgeting, trying to exude confidence you were severely lacking.
“I’ll admit, I’ve been struggling to decide what I should do with you.” Immediately your stomach churned, getting even more anxious. “I could have you removed from my class, but that would be a lot of paperwork.”
“Professor,”
“I’m speaking.” He said harshly, making your mouth immediately close. “However, that does mean I’ll have to put up with this for another few months… So the paperwork might be worth the hassle.” You tried not to cry at the thought. You need this class to graduate— getting dropped from it will set you back a semester unless you add another course to your already heavy schedule for next semester. You waited, not sure if he was done talking or not. After another few seconds you decided to try again.
“Please…” You said hesitantly, waiting for him to snap at you again. When he didn’t, you continued. “Please don’t drop me, professor. I need this class to graduate.” He stayed silent, eyes dragging over your body as you did your best not to squirm. He still hasn’t said anything… Is he going to drop you anyway? With tears in your eyes, you tried again, “Please… Please I- I’ll leave you alone— I won’t bother you about grades anymore, I swear, just please don’t drop me.” You all but whimpered, feeling even more pathetic now.
He sighed and took off his glasses, then set them on his desk before leaning back in his chair a little, still studying you.
“I’d still have to put up with you in class as well though.”
“Please! I’ll sit in the back and not talk— I’ll do anything, just please don’t drop me.” You cried.
“Anything?” You stiffened a little at the dark expression that suddenly took over his face. Would you really do anything? You wouldn’t mind fucking him if that’s what he’s implying— despite his off putting personality, you’ve always been attracted to him.
“Y-yes?” You said, unsure.
“That didn’t sound very convincing and I’m not going to force you so I’ll just go through with the drop request,”
“No! I will— I’ll do anything… Please.” He continued studying you, probably trying to gauge if you were telling the truth or not.
“Fine. We’ll call it an internship of sorts. You’ll come with me to Arkham Asylum every Friday and help me in whatever way I may need— no questions asked.”
“I- I don’t know if I’m qualified for that.”
“Good thing it’s not an actual internship then.” He sneered, the patronizing tone making you blush.
“What will you have me do?” You asked quietly.
“It’ll be easier to just show you instead. Give me your essay and after Friday if I’m satisfied with your performance, I’ll change the grade.” Your heart practically skipped a beat— all you have to do is go to Arkham with him for a day and you’ll get an A? You’d be stupid to say no. So you retrieved your essay from your bag and handed it to him. “Good. Six pm, do not be late. I’ll meet you in the main lobby to take you to my office.” He said sternly.
Since you left his office, your heart has been pounding. You weren’t sure what to wear so you just decided on a skirt and blouse that were professional, but still mostly casual. After that, there wasn’t much else you could do. You were too anxious to focus on literally anything so you just sat at home, overthinking. Friday rolled around and you left at five, just in case anything happened, and arrived at 5:25. So you sat in your car, waiting anxiously and watching the clock on the dashboard. You were too scared to even listen to music. At 5:55 you decided to go in, worst case you’d just have to wait five minutes for him, but you figured it’d be better to be early— even after what happened during his office hours.
It was only a minute before six when he showed up. The second he saw you, he gestured for you to follow, so you trailed after him on wobbly legs. When you arrived in his office, he closed the door and told you to sit in the chair across from him as he sat behind the desk.
“I want to make sure that we’re on the same page and I have your consent for anything that happens here.” The way he worded that made you nervous, but you chalked it up to the fact that you were already overcome with anxiety.
“Yes.” You tried to sound sure of yourself, but you were having doubts. What would he make you do? Would it really be worth a better grade?
“Good. Take this.” He picked up a small paper cup from his desk with one pill inside and handed it to you.
“…Why?”
“There are certain aerosol drugs that are administered to patients sometimes. That will keep them from affecting you.” He explained calmly, easing your nerves a bit. So you took it from him and swallowed it, waiting for what was next. “Follow me.” He stood up again, this time holding a briefcase, and you followed him out of his office. He led you down some hallways before stopping outside of a door and unlocking it, gesturing for you to walk in.
There was a small table in the corner and two exam chairs with restraints on them, one of which had stirrups. Other than that the room was bare. The door closed loudly, making you jump and turn around.
“Sit.” He ordered, walking over to the table and setting the briefcase down before walking toward you.
“Why?” You asked skeptically. He just stood patiently and watched you. You suddenly got hit with a wave of dizziness and stumbled to the chair to sit down. The dizziness quickly turned into exhaustion and you could barely keep your eyes open. When you started falling forward, he quickly moved closer to catch you, then leaned you back against the chair.
Your head hurt like hell and you forced your eyes open to find that you were now laying on the other exam chair, thankfully not with your legs in the stirrups, but with the restraints on your wrists. You don’t even remember falling asleep.
“The effects should wear off soon. I apologize for using that, but I figured you wouldn’t willingly let me restrain you and I didn’t feel like fighting you.”
“What… what was that?” You asked through a breath. You could slowly feel yourself getting less and less foggy.
“A drug.” He said, in the most annoyed and patronizing tone you’ve heard from him so far.
���Why?” You whimpered, closing your eyes again because they still felt so heavy.
“If you’re going to ask stupid questions then I’m just going to gag you. I already answered that.” You heard some rustling noises and his footsteps, then a hand was running along your cheek, startling you and making you open your eyes. “You remember our agreement?” You nodded hesitantly. It felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest with how hard and fast it was pounding. “Be a good little girl and if I’m satisfied, I won’t drop you. I might even change the grade of your essay.” You didn’t need the reminder, but the way he said the first part was making your stomach flutter.
“I have to say,” he removed his hand from your cheek and moved down to place it on your leg, just above your knee, “I prefer the sluttier skirts you wear to class than this.” He teased the hem of your skirt with his fingers, making you tremble. “Next week wear something shorter. And a more flattering top.” You figured by ‘more flattering’ what he really meant was more revealing. All you could do to respond was nod.
“Good. Let’s begin.”
He reached for the zipper of your skirt on your hip, making you stiffen.
“What the hell are you doing?” You asked, beginning to panic again, and he paused with a sigh.
“If you don’t consent, that’s fine… There is still the matter of your seat in my class.” He said coyly. “If you want me to let you go, just say that. I’ll fill out the paperwork first thing Monday morning.”
“No,” You choked out. “No.. please.” You felt like you were on the verge of a panic attack. He shushed you softly, staring at you with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“Relax. If you consent to this, you’ll keep your seat in my class. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You nodded, looking up at him with teary eyes. “Good girl… Now be quiet and let me do this.” His tone was significantly darker and all you could do was tremble as he unzipped your skirt, then pulled it down your body before discarding it on the floor.
“I’ve been working on a new form of a drug.” You squeezed your eyes shut and let out a strangled whimper when he grabbed your leg and placed it in the stirrup, then used the restraints to keep it in place. “We’re going to try it together.” He grinned wolfishly and did the same to your other leg.
You heard his footsteps as he walked across the room for something, then back over to you, now wearing a latex glove on his right hand, holding a small bottle in the other.
“Remember, you can withdraw consent at any time…” You couldn’t though. Because you would be dropped from his class and set back months.
His hand landed on your thigh, making you jump a little, and he started slowly dragging it up. Once he was close enough, he brushed his thumb over your clothed mound, forcing a quiet sob from you.
“You probably thought this was going to go in a very different direction, didn’t you?” He asked teasingly, making you blush. Truthfully, you didn’t put much thought into your undergarments because you were too busy worrying about your actual clothes and what he was going to make you do. You cried out when he suddenly ripped the lace off your body, feeling the burn of the fabric pulling too hard against your skin. “Ready?” He asked, almost eagerly.
You saw now that the bottle was a clear liquid and when he squirted it onto his fingers, you assumed it was lube. As soon as his finger brushed your asshole, you stiffened.
“Wait!” You rushed out, chest heaving as your heart pounded in your chest. “I- I’ve never…”
“You’ve never done anal?” You almost thought he was going to give you sympathy. “Good.” You couldn’t even get another word out before he was pushing a finger in, making you tense up as you whimpered in discomfort. “Tell me when you start to feel it.”
“Feel what?” You said through a breath, trying to relax around the intrusion. Even though it wasn’t as bad as you were expecting, your heart was pounding even harder and faster in your chest, and your breathing grew ragged. “Dr. Crane,” You whimpered, suddenly a million times more anxious than only a moment ago.
“Already?” He checked his watch, “That was fast. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“Anxious.” You said quickly, letting out a strangled whimper when he forced another finger inside. “M-my heart is pounding and it feels hard to breathe.”
“That’s good… Anything else?”
“My hands are clammy… and it feels like I'm sweating a little.”
“No visual or auditory hallucinations?”
“What?” You choked out, eyes widening. “W-why would I have that??”
“The drug we’re testing is my fear toxin. It’s a hallucinogenic that targets the amygdala and releases stress hormones, causing a fear response in the brain.” He explained, only making you feel worse. “So far I’ve tested it two ways; administered intravenously and in aerosol form.”
“I don’t understand..” You said quietly, trying to calm your breathing a little. He let out an exaggerated sigh and forced a third finger inside you.
“I guess I should really expect you to.” He almost sounded.. disappointed. The realization made the twist in your stomach even worse. “Let me dumb it down for you. In its most potent form, it causes visual and auditory hallucinations of the subject’s worst fear.” If you weren’t currently on the verge of a panic attack with three fingers in your ass, you probably would’ve rolled your eyes at his tone.
“Now I’m testing it via rectal administration. The concentration is about the same, but the effects shouldn’t be as strong. At least, that’s my theory.” His fingers continued fucking you slowly, occassionally spreading apart to open you up more. Despite the amount of anxiety you were currently feeling, you could just barely feel your growing arousal.
“W-why would you want the drug in this form?” You asked, gasping for air between words.
“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I experiment?” He asked rhetorically. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the anxiety rather than the arousal, but it was only becoming more difficult. A choked moan escaped you when he suddenly dragged a bare finger through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. “Are you enjoying this?” His voice sounded unnervingly clinical.
In response, you bit down harder on your lip and shook your head, denying it. You could practically feel his eyes on you, studying you closely.
“I knew you’d be perfect for this.” He suddenly said, and you bit back a moan because he almost sounded proud. “You’re just pathetic enough and desperate for my approval to willingly become my little lab rat, and now look at you… Leaking onto my hand as I finger your ass.” He chuckled wryly. A dark blush took over your face and you whined quietly, but the flutter in your stomach was unmistakable. “I bet you want my cock also… Don’t you?”
You let out a choked sob and turned your head, trying uselessly to hide yourself. When he suddenly pulled his fingers out, you whimpered quietly at the sudden loss.
“Look at me.” He demanded, in a tone that left no room for argument. As if you were in a trance, you turned to face him and opened your eyes. “You want to keep your seat in my class?” He removed the glove and tossed it aside, then worked on unbuckling his belt and opening his pants.
“Yes.” You whispered shakily.
“And you’re willing to let me fuck your ass to ensure that happens?” He pulled his already half hard cock out and started stroking slowly as you gaped at it. How was that supposed to fit inside you?
“I- I’ve never..”
“It’s a yes or no question.” He sighed impatiently. “I fuck your ass or you leave and I fill out the form Monday morning.”
“I… I’m scared.” You whimpered, looking nervously between his face and his cock.
“That’s the whole point, darling.” Right. Because he was testing his fear toxin. You blushed furiously at the new pet name. “You have three seconds before I fuck you, then fill out the form anyway.”
Your stomach dropped at the threat and when he raised his brows, you blurted out, “Yes.” Tears were brimming in your eyes and he stepped closer, but didn’t line up yet. He just used his free hand to gently rub your thigh.
“Yes, what?” Your bottom lip began trembling when you realized what he wanted from you. “Say it. Beg your professor for it.”
“I- I want…” You let out a strangled sob and squeezed your eyes shut again, making his hand stop moving on your thigh to grip tightly in a silent warning. “I want you to fuck my ass… Please, Dr. Crane.” You whimpered. You’ve never felt more humiliated, but at the same time… you were only becoming more aroused. Your cunt ached to be filled, and your clit was practically throbbing.
“Good girl.” When you let out a choked moan at the sudden praise, he chuckled quietly. “Open your eyes. I want you to watch.” He demanded, lining up. Only after your eyes fluttered open, did he finally apply some pressure, entering you with little difficulty.
“Fuck- You’re so tight.” He hissed, moving his hand to your other thigh and squeezing almost painfully. Your breath and all of your sounds were caught in your throat as he pushed in deeper, not stopping until his hips were flush with your ass. “Tell me how it feels.” He said breathily, not moving yet.
“Big.” You whimpered, barely able to get the word out.
“Does it hurt?” You shook your head, trying to steady your breathing, but the overwhelming feeling of being stretched as well as the anxiety still weighing heavy on your chest made it feel almost impossible. “You look like you’re on the verge of a panic attack.” He sounded uncharacteristically dulcet.
When he reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it to expose your bra, your breathing picked up even more as your heart started pounding even harder in your chest. He pulled your bra down below your breasts and groped you eagerly, showing little regard for your pleasure with his rough, almost painful touch.
“Your heart’s beating so fast. Is my little lab rat still scared?” He cooed, very obviously mocking you.
“Professor..” You whimpered, staring up at him with glossy eyes as you struggled to cope with all of the overwhelming feelings, both physically and emotionally. He shushed you softly and brought his hands back down to rub your thighs, trying to soothe you.
“I’m going to fuck you, and you’re going to take it.” He said plainly. “You try to resist at all and I’ll keep fucking you until I finish, then you won’t have to bother showing up to class on Monday. Do you understand?”
You nodded reluctantly and he moved his hands to grip the tops of your thighs. He slowly dragged his hips back, then forward again, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock stretching you open. It didn’t… hurt. But it definitely wasn’t the most pleasurable thing you’ve ever experienced.
When he suddenly sped up, you cried out and squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on taking deep breaths. He was grunting and moaning quietly with each thrust, clearly enjoying this far more than you, and you couldn’t help but open your eyes again to watch him. His grip tightened on your thighs, making you whimper, and you watched his mouth fall open in a silent moan as he closed his eyes.
“Fuck…” He said breathily, letting out a low groan before opening his eyes again. “I didn’t account for transdermal administration” He almost sounded amused again, but you could barely focus on his words. “The effects are far less than what you’re feeling, I’d assume. It almost feels like adrenaline, rather than fear. Next time we’ll try it intravaginally to see if your reaction is the same or more like mine.”
You almost forgot that this wasn’t a one and done. You have to let your professor do what he wants with you every week for the rest of the semester…
“And I think I’ll try the other forms of delivery on you as well. Not so much for an experiment… I just want to fuck you while you’re hallucinating your greatest fears.” His lips curled up into a small smirk at the thought of that. “I can’t wait to hear you scream and cry for me.” He cooed, but his tone was far from comforting and your anxiety was only getting worse as he continued sharing his future plans for you.
He started bucking into you rapidly and his sounds got louder, clearly getting closer to his release. You could even feel yourself just barely starting to inch toward the edge. Your moans caught his attention and a pleased look took over his face.
“You like this, don’t you?” You let out a choked moan and bit your lip, trying to quiet your sounds. “It’s either that or misattribution of arousal... but that seems less likely.” Even though you knew his guess was correct, you were still going to convince yourself that it was misattribution of arousal instead because that was far less humiliating. When he started rubbing your clit, any chance you had of keeping quiet was gone instantly. His moans got louder too when your body tensed up, tightening around his cock.
“Oh god— Dr. Crane, please.” You sobbed, feeling the arousal steadily taking over the anxiety that had settled in your stomach.
“What do you want?” Now that he asked, you realized that you don’t even know what you want. You wanted the overwhelming anxiety and stretch to stop… but the thought of him pulling out and ending this almost brought tears of desperation to your eyes. His fingers sped up on your clit and your back arched off of the exam chair as an involuntary mewl escaped you.
“Please let me come.” You whimpered pathetically and he let out a quiet chuckle in response to your brazenness.
“How curious…” He murmured, gaze dragging all over your body. “I’ll admit, I figured some part of you would enjoy getting to please me, but I never imagined it’d be to this extent.” He said amusedly and your blush darkened in response. “You want to come?”
You were nodding eagerly before he could even finish. “Please.”
“How about this— I'll raise the grade on your essay… or I’ll let you come.” You could see the barest hint of a smirk on his lips and you let out a frustrated sob, squeezing your eyes shut. “Well?”
“Dr. Crane…” You whimpered, bottom lip trembling as you tried not to cry. When you opened your eyes and stared up at him through the tears, his smirk widened. “Please..”
“Should I choose for you?”
“No…” You sobbed, looking away from him and biting your lip. The whole point of this was so he’d change the grade… You can’t give in to the pleasure now that you’re so close to finally getting what you came here for. “I- I want you to change my grade.” Your voice was barely a whisper. As soon as he got your answer, he removed his hand from your clit to grab the top of your thigh again, bucking into you rapidly as he chased his orgasm.
“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, my little lab rat.” He was clearly satisfied with your choice and while part of you was almost crying from frustration… another part couldn’t help but revel in the fact that you pleased him, even if it was at the expense of your own pleasure.
His hips snapped into you rapidly, the force of it almost pushing you up the exam chair, but the restraints on your legs kept you mostly in place. As he focused on his impending orgasm, you were practically mesmerized. He looked so… pretty. The pleasure in his expression was obvious and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. His normally pale blue eyes were darker as he took you in, studying every tiny reaction to his ministrations.
When he suddenly pushed forward all the way and stayed there, you let out a whine of displeasure, knowing whatever pleasure you might’ve been feeling before was about to disappear. But the choked moan he let out as he closed his eyes made you almost forget all about it. His hips bucked forward sporadically as his cock twitched inside you with each rope of come that shot out, filling you up.
Finally his sounds quieted into heavy breathing and his body went still. You waited anxiously for what was next, not sure what to expect. Opening his eyes again, he watched as he slowly dragged his hips back until his cock slipped free, forcing out a quiet hiss from him and a whimper from you at the sensitivity.
“Push it out.” His voice was raspy and still thick with arousal. When you pushed his come out, he let out a low groan as he watched, bending down a little to get a closer look. “Good girl.” He cooed, making you whine as the words went straight to your cunt that was still aching with need.
“You can remain here until the effects wear off. I want to see how long that takes.” He said, almost clinically, while checking his watch. Your eyes stayed on him as he tucked his cock back in his pants before collecting the lube and discarded glove.
“Are you going to let me go?” Your voice was quiet and timid as submission still heavily clouded your mind. He looked over at you again, almost surprised by your voice. He glanced at the restraints before dragging his gaze all over your body for a moment. Finally, he smirked a little and went back to what he was doing.
“Soon.” You sighed in response and stayed quiet. As you breathed deeply, trying to ignore the arousal still lingering in your stomach, you noticed that the anxious feeling was starting to subside a little. Your heart was still beating rapidly, but now it was hard to tell if it was from fear, adrenaline, or your own unsatisfied arousal.
“I think it’s wearing off.” You told him and he checked his watch again.
“What are you feeling?” He finally walked back over to you and stared at your face with an almost impressive level of professionalism, given the circumstances.
“My heart is still pounding, but my breathing is better. And I don’t feel very nauseous either.”
“Next week I want to test this again so I have a control group to compare these results to. It’ll be the same thing, but I won’t finger you for as long and I won’t fuck you until after it wears off.” He reached out and gently grabbed your chin, angling your face up to look at him as he stepped closer. “Of course… that’s assuming you still want to keep your spot in my class…” He trailed off, making the statement sound like a question instead.
“I do.” You said quickly. Especially after this… you were desperate to stay enrolled in his class, but you were also— as much as you didn’t want to admit it— desperate for more after he gave you this small taste.
“Good girl.” Your cheeks heated up instantly and he patted one with his hand before stepping back again. “Keep being my little lab rat and I have no doubt you’ll pass my class… maybe even with the grade you think you deserve.”
#jonathan crane#jonathan crane x reader#jonathan crane smut#jonathan crane x reader smut#cillian murphy
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† GOD, FORGIVE ME
mean!ellie williams x innocent!reader a/n: i also posted this on my ao3: baptismsbaby warnings: reader is an extremely innocent christian girl, blaspheming, corruption, drug dealer!ellie, petnames (pup is used in case anyone doesn't like that), fingering (r! receiving), belittling, toxic!ellie, oral (r!receiving), virgin!reader
creds to elliesgalaxy on pinterest for the picture of ellie.
wc: 5.2k<3 part two here
You breathed a sigh of relief as you entered the gates of Jackson on your horse. You had just finished up patrol and was ready to collapse in your bed. You looked over at Dina and smiled. “Man, I’m happy to be home.”
“Me too,” Dina agreed with a laugh. “Things got too intense out there.”
“Yeah, luckily I was there to save your life.”
Dina scoffed. “Oh, shut up. I had it but of course, you had to show off.”
You hopped off your horse and led it to the stables, passing it off to the man on duty. “Here she is,” you said. “Get your rest, Ginger!”
Dina said goodbye to Japan, running to catch up with you. “Hey, I forgot to mention but Jesse said he wanted to throw a party tonight. It’ll be small, not too many people at all.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A party? Really?”
“Yeah, it’ll be fun! Jesse and his friends got some liquor and cups from Seth. Perfect timing too since everyone has the weekend off.”
“Dina,” you began. But before you could continue, Dina cut you off.
“I’m not saying you have to drink with us! I know you’re a good little Christian girl,” she joked.
You frowned. “Hey, that’s not nice.”
“Please come,” she begged. “It wouldn’t be fun without you.”
“What exactly do I bring to the table? It’s not like I can do anything,” you said.
Dina stepped in front of you and placed her hands on your arms to stop you. “Listen, just please come and stay for at least half an hour. If you want to leave, you can. I won’t stop you or try to convince you to stay. I wanna have a good time with my friends and you’re one of my favorites. Please don’t let me suffer with all of Jesse’s friends. They’re… too male, almost.”
You sighed in defeat. “Ugh, fine! I’ll go if you really want me to.”
Dina clapped her hands in excitement. “Good! Come, I have some clothes you can borrow that’ll look real nice on you.”
You groaned as Dina pulled you by your hand, taking you to her place. She couldn’t contain how happy she felt. You never came to parties with her. They were rare and usually happened once every couple of months. Usually, you wouldn’t give in to Dina’s begging. You would just go home, curl up with a book and fall asleep before the party even began. Dina would come over the next day to tell you all the “sinful” things that went on. You didn’t understand what half of the things she said even meant, you were far too sheltered growing up and focused on reading the Bible most of the time.
“Who’s all gonna be there?” you asked as you walked inside her house.
“Well, I know Jesse’s whole group of friends are coming. Then there’s you, me, and…” she trailed off, looking away. You tilted your head to try and catch her attention. She fought hard not to look your way but you still kept trying to make eye contact until she finally looked at you. “Ellie,” she almost whispered. You sneered at the mention of the Williams girl.
“Ugh, I should’ve known,” you murmured. “Of course Ellie would be there.”
“Seriously, why do you two bicker so much?” Dina asked. “It’s like watching two kids fight over a toy. Or… really, more so like watching someone yell at a puppy for no reason.”
Your face fell. “Oh no… am I the puppy Dina? Please, don’t say I’m the puppy.”
Dina bit her lip and shrugged. “I mean… your comebacks are… something else.”
“What? Are you saying I can’t be mean?”
Dina couldn’t hide the smile growing on her face as she tried not to laugh. “You once said ‘bless your heart’ and that you’d pray for her.”
You scoffed as she broke into fits of laughter. “Hey, ‘bless your heart’ is the worst insult to receive where I come from! Sorry I felt bad afterwards and told her I’d pray for her!”
“Oh, I’m just messing. It’ll be alright. I’ll tell Ellie to cool it. I honestly don’t think she means anything by it. You’re just easy to tease,” Dina said as she made way to her closet. She pulled out a black longsleeve and extremely short shorts. “Here, wear this.”
You made a face at the outfit. “Is that not a bit… much?”
“Loosen up a bit! I think it’ll look real nice on your figure. Make the girlies pop out a little,” she said with a wink.
You undressed and put the outfit Dina gave you on. She was right but left out the fact that the shorts revealed too much, your ass practically hanging out. The shirt fell just above your belly button. Dina gawked at the sight of you. “Hey, you should dress slutty more often.”
You couldn’t help but to admire yourself in the mirror. You were big on dressing as modest and comfortable as possible. You didn’t realize you had curves until now. “Wow… I think I kinda like this?”
“What can I say, I’m a genius,” bragged Dina.
-
You and Dina arrived at the party an hour later. Jesse opened the door and stopped in his tracks. Dina grinned. “I know right?”
Jesse looked you up and down then back at Dina. “Wow, I’m impressed,” he said, complimenting the both of you. “Come in.”
As you walked in, everyone stopped and stared. “Holy shit, you clean up nice!” one of the boys exclaimed. You shifted and looked down at the ground, too anxious to look at anyone. You were way out of your comfort zone but a part of you sort of enjoyed it. Your eyes wandered over to the couch where Ellie sat. She was rolling a joint, paying no mind to you.
Dina walked over to her and leaned to whisper something in her ear. You stood there, watching Ellie’s face twist in disgust. You tried reading her lips, it looked like she said your name followed by the word “sensitive.” Dina smacked Ellie’s shoulder. Ellie began searching around the room until her eyes landed on you. Her eyebrows went up before turning to Dina. You couldn’t see her lips anymore but saw a smirk grow on Dina’s face.
Everyone took a shot and headed towards the couch. You followed, sitting on the ground next to Dina. You were kinda mad that to your right was Ellie, who now sat on the edge of the couch so the guys could sit next to her. She was so close that you could smell the soap she used. Ellie looked down at you, holding the joint out. Before you could decline, she passed it to the guy sitting next to her instead. “Shit, I forgot,” she said. “You’re too good to smoke.”
You glared at her smug face. “I don’t think I’m too good to smoke.”
“Well, you’re too good to drink.”
She reached over to grab an unopened bottle from the table. She grabbed two glasses and poured the liquor into each one. “I’m not too good to drink either!” you exclaimed, defending yourself.
Ellie chuckled. “Right,” she muttered. She went to grab the shot but you grabbed it first, downing it quickly. You coughed as it burned your throat.
“Woah,” Ellie blurted out sarcastically. “You took one shot, cool.”
You grabbed the other glass angrily and downed it too, slamming it back down on the table.
“Jesus!” said Dina, grabbing your shoulder. “Take it slow, you don’t wanna get sick.”
At this point, the joint had reached Dina. She passed it to you to pass over to Ellie but you took a hit instead. You inhaled the smoke deeply and blew it out without coughing. You handed it to Ellie who had a playful smirk on her face. “Wow, I think I’m actually impressed.”
“Whatever,” you uttered, standing up to leave the circle. You went into the kitchen to take another shot. For some reason, you felt you had to prove to Ellie that you weren’t just a goody two shoes and that you could have fun. You knew that in order for the Jackson dealer to take you seriously, you would have to commit.
After a couple shots, you slightly stumbled back to the circle. Dina looked concerned until you giggled. “Oh, boy. This is great,” you slurred, your eyes heavy from the weed. Dina laughed and wrapped an arm around you. “Finally! I’ve been waiting for you to let loose!”
You looked up at Ellie, who was looking further down than your face with furrowed brows. She looked back up and quickly turned away. “Lightweight,” she said.
“Oh, shut it, Ellie,” you snapped. “Just for a second could you please just shut up!”
Ellie laughed. “Good Christian girl suddenly thinks she’s the shit all cause she took a hit off a blunt and a couple shots.”
Everyone groaned, tired of the constant arguing between the two. Every time they were in a room with them, Ellie would make fun of you until you couldn’t take anymore and left. They knew Ellie wasn’t fully serious, she liked picking on you because she thought it was hilarious that you couldn’t take a joke. But part of her started to despise you without her knowledge. Everyone loved you. You were sweet and would pray with anyone who wanted to pray. You would give back to the community and greet everyone who walked past you. Ellie thought it was all an act and grew tired of it.
You, on the other hand, never liked Ellie. She was a dealer who spent all of her free time smoking pot and sleeping around. You didn’t think that was any way to live. You hated the influence Ellie had on your friends. Everyone thought she was funny. You couldn’t understand why.
“Let’s play never have I ever!” Dina suggested, an attempt to break the silence and to lessen the tension that built up in the room. Everyone agreed and put all ten of their fingers up. You followed along, waiting for someone to start.
“Okay,” Dina started. “Loser has to go streaking.”
Everyone cheered. You frowned, unsure if you still wanted to play. “But!” said Dina, causing everyone to be quiet. “Usually, you’re out if you put all your fingers down. But… whoever is left with the most fingers up is the loser.”
You nudged Dina, giving her a look. “You know I’m gonna lose,” you whispered. Dina shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just lie.”
“I’ll start,” said Jesse. “Never have I ever… made out with someone on patrol.”
Everyone put their fingers down except you.
“Never have I ever… had sex during patrol,” Dina said. Almost everyone put their finger down. They looked at you, waiting for you to say something. You decided to take Dina’s advice and start lying to avoid being the loser.
“Never have I ever snuck out.”
You put a finger down along with everyone else. Ellie scoffed. “Yeah sure,” she muttered. “Never have I ever had sex.”
You put a finger down, knowing that wasn’t true. Ellie kicked your knee lightly. “Wow, you’re getting some? Tell me, who?”
You looked over at Dina, your eyes wide as you tried to come up with a lie. Some girl who passed through Jackson? Some girl you met before Jackson? Your head started to hurt trying to come up with an excuse.
“Who?” Ellie asked again. “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Girl,” Dina corrected. “She’s not attracted to men.”
You nodded, not really caring that Dina had outed you. You knew that you were surrounded by people who wouldn’t judge. Except for Ellie, even though she wasn’t straight herself.
Ellie looked genuinely shocked. “Really? Who’s the girl?”
You shrugged. “I’m not gonna name drop.”
“Because this girl isn’t real,” said Ellie. “Lying is a sin. You would know. You just don’t want to be the loser.”
“Hey, it’s not fair to lie,” one of Jesse’s friends complained. Suddenly, everyone started whining about how it was against the rules. Either you say who it was or admit that you’re lying. You felt heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment. Ellie was grinning but it went away when she saw tears in your eyes.
“I’m teasing, man. Chill… don’t be a crybaby about it.”
“Fuck you, Ellie,” you spat out. A few people gasped, including Dina. She turned to Jesse, resting her head on his shoulder. She felt guilty for suggesting to play the game and for telling Ellie to be nice. Dina realized it just made her pick on you even more.
Ellie wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t mad but she wasn’t feeling good about the situation either.
“You’re a real piece of shit,” you continued. “Always throwing religion in my face, being mean, just… why? Why target me? I’ve always been nice to you even though I have never, ever liked you! So, fuck you, Ellie!” You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “I knew better. I shouldn’t have come here when I found out you were gonna be here too. Just give it a rest, Ellie. Grow up!”
You stood up and brushed your shorts off. You faced your friends who all sat back quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Sorry for ruining your fun, guys.”
You stormed up the stairs and into one of the spare bedrooms. You collapsed on the bed, your head spinning. You felt awful for how you reacted but felt she deserved it. You were worried you ruined the party until you heard music along with everyone singing loudly.
You heard a knock on the door. You got up, cracking it open. You were expecting Dina but felt your stomach drop when you saw Ellie. You tried to shut the door but Ellie stopped it with her hand, shoving her way inside and slamming the door shut and locking it. “I’m not here to bitch at you, I want to talk to you.”
“You really want to make things worse?”
“You’re right. I am a piece of shit,” Ellie hissed. “I know I go too far teasing you but you take everything seriously!”
“You don’t know me, Ellie,” you mumbled, too afraid to speak up in case your voice cracked. “I won’t lie and say that I ever cared for you. I don’t like the way you choose to live your life but I still was kind to you. You never gave me a chance.”
“Because you act like you’re better than everyone!”
“How?” you shouted. “All I want is to make friends with everyone, spread a little peace and love in this shitty world! It’s comforting to me, Ellie! I don’t think I’m better than you or anybody. I enjoy making others happy and you enjoy making people miserable. Actually, just me. Because I have never seen you do this to others. You hate me and I wish you didn’t! I hear how Dina talks about you and I see how you laugh with your friends and I’m jealous. I know I could’ve liked you had you been friendly with me. Because I was angry at myself for judging you so quickly. It was wrong of me. But of course, I was right!”
You turned away from Ellie and sat down on the bed, your arms crossed over your chest. “I felt I had to prove that I’m cool,” you continued. “I thought you would stop for just one night if you saw how cool I can be.”
“You want the truth?” Ellie asked.
“You’re always truthful. So, I might as well say yes even if I don’t really give a shit.”
“I meant it when I said I was impressed earlier.”
You scoffed. “Sure.”
“I can’t even take two shots back to back like that.”
“Stop teasing, Ellie. I am convinced that being torn apart by infected is less stressful than dealing with you.”
“Just shut the fuck up and let me talk, okay? I’m leading into something.”
You flinched at her raised voice, slowly looking up to see her facial expression harden.
“I’m jealous of you,” she admitted. “I’m jealous that you can still believe in something and that you still care when everything is so fucked!”
You stood up, walking towards Ellie as she spoke. “I’d give anything, anything, to be that way. I had bitter feelings towards you. I think I wanted to tear you down so you wouldn’t be so… sweet. Giving, caring, everything I never could be.”
You watched her face closely, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth.
“I fuck girls like you and ignore them so they can hurt. Maybe I want the world to suffer with me,” said Ellie. “But I couldn’t do that to you. You’re too… good. I had to find another way.”
You paused as you connected what she said together. “Wait, you wanna…?” you trailed off, too shy to say it.
Ellie scratched her neck awkwardly. “Well, I did… but you’d never do that.”
“I might have,” you said, almost feeling ashamed of how bold you were being. You never would have thought this sober but Ellie was really pretty. If the circumstances were different, you knew that she would be your type.
Ellie was taken aback by your statement.
“What?” Ellie questioned.
“Not now, since I know you would’ve ignored me.”
Ellie stepped closer to you, eyeing your body up and down. She thought you looked good tonight and couldn’t help but to peek at your tits when you weren’t paying attention, or your ass when you were turned away.
“I… know I would’ve back then,” Ellie whispered, getting even closer to you. She stood above you, watching as your face turned red. Your heart sped up. You wondered why your panties started to feel a bit wet at the sight of Ellie looking down at you. You usually never got turned on. Ellie was right, you were just a good Christian girl who didn’t do anything. You never even tried touching yourself. Since you were breaking the rules now, you thought maybe you could break some more and pray for forgiveness later.
“I’m not so sure now,” Ellie continued, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I never knew you were hiding that under all those baggy clothes.”
“A-Are you saying that in a bad way?”
Ellie shook her head. “When I first saw you earlier, I told Dina I kinda wanted to fuck you.”
Your breath hitched. “What did… Dina say?”
“That if I was nicer,” she said, stepping closer so there was almost no space left between your bodies. “I just might get to.”
Ellie caressed your cheek slowly. “Am I nice enough now, pretty girl?”
Your panties were soaked at this point. Your body trembled, afraid that you wouldn’t know what to do since it was your first time. Even though ten minutes ago you didn’t like the girl, you suddenly wanted nothing more than to be underneath her.
“I really… was lying earlier,” you mumbled.
“I know you were.”
“You don’t care that I’ve never… had sex before?”
Ellie smirked. “I’m glad you’ve never been fucked before. I want to be the one who corrupts you. I want everybody who fucks you after me to be a disappointment so you come crawling back. You’ll never find better than me, not even your own hand.”
Ellie leaned down, her lips brushing against yours. You pulled away to speak. “I don’t even do that…”
Ellie chuckled. “Really? Little church girl don’t know how to please herself?”
Usually, you would get mad at Ellie for saying stuff like that. Now, her insults just made you throb even more.
“Have you even kissed before?”
You bit your lip shyly and shrugged. “Not… really. When I was 13, a boy tried kissing me and I didn’t kiss back.”
“Aw, poor pup,” Ellie teased, running her fingers on the exposed skin of your tummy. “I get to teach you everything.”
Finally, Ellie collided her lips with yours. She was super gentle, placing her hand on your cheek and brushing it with her thumb. You melted in the kiss, pressing your thighs together to ease your aching cunt. The friction made it feel even better, causing you to release a soft moan into her mouth. Ellie pulled away, smirking at the noise you made. “I wanna hear more of that.”
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you admitted. “I don’t know if I can do anything to make you feel good.”
“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?”
You hesitated a bit before nodding. Of course you wanted that. You were just scared that you’d be bad at it since you had zero experience.
“Then let me fuck you. I get off to getting you off, understand?” asked Ellie.
“Y-Yes.”
“Good girl,” Ellie praised. “Lay down, baby.”
You obeyed and laid down onto the bed. You watched as Ellie slowly took your boots off and dropped them onto the ground. “Lift your hips up for me?”
You lifted your hips and let Ellie pull your shorts off. Ellie bit her lip at the sight of your white cotton panties. She could see how soaked they were. “Look at that,” she breathed. You closed your legs to hide yourself but Ellie pulled them back open, holding your thighs down so you couldn’t move. “Filthy little girl,” she cooed. “What would God say about this?”
Your breathing started to grow heavier. “I-I don’t care what He would say,” you whined.
Ellie held back a moan that threatened to escape her lips. She pulled your panties off and threw them behind her.
“Fuck,” she groaned. “Your pussy is so pretty.”
She tugged at your shirt until you got the hint to raise up. She lifted the fabric over your head and dropped it on the floor. You were completely naked while Ellie was fully dressed. She rolled her sleeves up, her eyes never leaving yours. She crawled on top of you and started making out with you passionately. Without pulling away, she started to unbutton her jeans and took them off swiftly. She shoved her knee against your dripping cunt, eliciting a squeal from you. She placed her hands on your hips and guided them up and down so you were grinding on her.
“Just like that, baby. Good girl.”
You started to moan louder, Ellie covering your mouth and shushing you. “As much as I want to make you scream, you don’t want anyone to hear and interrupt us, do you?”
You shook your head no. “Will you be quiet for me?”
“Yes,” you whimper.
Ellie pressed her knee harder on your pussy. You started to go faster, mewling and biting your lip to keep quiet.
“Such a good girl. You listen so well,” Ellie complimented. She took her knee away and brushed a finger up your slit. Your body jolted at the feeling. “You want me to taste you baby?”
“Please,” you almost cried out, desperate for whatever Ellie planned on doing to you. Ellie moaned at the sight of you squirming. She loved watching you unfold beneath her. To think she ever hated you was beyond her at this point. She wished she had done this sooner as she admired how beautiful you were.
“Say it,” Ellie demanded. “Use your words, pup.”
“E-Ellie, please” you begged. “F-Fuck me.”
Ellie tutted, shaking her head no. “I plan on fucking you anyway. I want you to beg me to eat you out.”
You were confused. You’ve heard Dina say that Jesse would ‘eat her out’ but you weren’t sure what it really meant. Ellie saw the confusion on your face and laughed. “Wow, you’re too innocent.”
You started to sit up but Ellie pushed you back down softly. “I know what you’re thinking. I didn’t mean it that way,” she apologized. “It’s okay that you don’t know what that means. I’ll show you baby. You want that?”
You nodded. “Yes, please show me.”
Ellie leaned down between your thighs and started peppering kisses all over them. You reached down to grip her hair as her lips got closer to your pussy. She flicked her tongue across your clit once and looked up at you. “Do you understand now, pup?”
“Mm, yes Ellie.”
She smirked. “You want me to continue?”
“Please?”
Ellie chuckled as she went back down to your dripping cunt, licking it all up and swallowing. She savored the taste of you, going back down for more. You grabbed the pillow beneath your head to put over your face in an attempt to muffle your moans.
Ellie stopped and yanked the pillow out of your hands. “They turned the music all the way up finally. You don’t have to be quiet anymore. I wanna hear how good I make you feel.”
Ellie pressed her tongue against your clit and went back and forth between a circular motion and flicking it. You nearly screamed from the pleasure, your hands grabbing Ellie’s hair to pull her closer. She moaned against you, speeding her tongue up. She brought a hand up to play with your nipple, squeezing and pulling on it. Ellie used her free hand to gently push one finger in. You yelped, yanking Ellie’s hair harder. She pulled away and licked her lips. “Too much baby?” she asked, out of breath. You shook your head no and pulled her back to keep going.
Ellie loved how tight you felt. The feeling of you gripping around her finger made her want to bend you over and fuck you with a strap. She wished the party was at her place so she could have used all the toys she had on you.
A feeling began to build up in your stomach as you trembled harder. “E-Ellie!” you moaned, bucking your hips upward as you got closer and closer to cumming.
“Come on, baby. That’s it. Be a good girl and cum for me.”
All of the sudden, your body began to convulse as your orgasm hit you hard. Ellie slowly fingered you, riding it out until you pulled away from her. She brought her finger up to your mouth, forcing it open and shoving it down your throat. You sucked on her finger with a moan.
“Such a good girl,” Ellie praised, elated with how quickly you catch on.
“Wow,” you mumbled, out of breath from all the noises you made. “Never in a million years did I think I’d lose my virginity to you.”
Ellie sent you a sly smile. “I never knew I’d take it.”
You raised up slightly, leaning against Ellie’s shoulder. “Are you still going to be mean to me?”
Ellie sighed. “No, baby. That’s all over now.”
“Good. Do I put my clothes on now?”
“Why do you have to ask for my permission?” Ellie questioned with a laugh.
You giggled. “Well, I like… asking you.”
“Well, then no. I think I want to fingerfuck you some more. Can you take that?”
You froze, looking up at her with a fucked out expression. You were exhausted but didn’t want your time with Ellie to end. “Mhm, I think so.”
Ellie leaned back a bit and grabbed you. “Come lay in my lap, baby. Ass up.”
You complied and laid down, arching your back in excitement. Ellie rubbed her hand over your ass, squeezing tightly as you moaned. “Tell me, did you pray for me?”
Before you could ask what she meant by that, she shoved two fingers into your dripping cunt. You yelped as she fucked you with them slow and hard. “That one time when you got mad at me for making fun of you, you said you’d pray for me. Did you?”
Ellie sped her movements up as she went deeper inside you.
“Fuck!” you yelled out, trembling and kicking your feet at the feeling.
“Answer me, pup, or I’ll stop,” Ellie threatened.
“Yes!”
“Yes what, baby?”
“Yes! God, yes, I prayed for you!”
Ellie went even faster as you got closer to cumming again. “Atta girl, such a sweet pup. Praying for a sinner like me.”
“Ellie! Fuck! I-I prayed for you everyday!” you babbled, unable to speak without getting interrupted by your own sounds of pleasure.
“Yeah? Told God how bad you wanted me? Told Him all your dirty thoughts, you filthy slut?”
You moaned louder, bucking your hips up towards Ellie . “Yes!”
“You’re gonna ask for forgiveness, aren’t you? Like the good Christian girl you are.”
“Mm, yes, Ellie,” you whined, your orgasm about to take over you.
“Then ask, baby, ask.”
“God, forgive me please,” you said in between moans as you finally came undone for her. The force of you cumming shook your entire body and made your eyes roll to the back of your head. You couldn’t help but to repeat Ellie’s name until you started to come down, your body almost collapsing onto her lap.
“Good girl.”
Ellie helped you up onto your feet, your legs shaking. “Let me help you get dressed,” she offered.
As Ellie helped you into your clothes, you couldn’t help but feel awful. “Ellie? Did I… make God mad at me?”
Ellie stopped, placing her hands on your shoulders and staring deep into your eyes. “Who could be mad at an angel like you?”
You blushed, removing yourself from her grip and tugging your shirt over your head. You put your shoes on next and sighed, looking up at Ellie with a tired smile. “Do we say anything?”
Ellie shook her head no, quickly fixing your hair so it wasn’t obvious what happened. “Just say we talked and you forgave me. I had one hell of an apology,” she uttered with a goofy grin. You laughed softly.
“So, you’re not gonna ignore me, right?”
Ellie wrapped her arms around you for a second before stepping back, eyeing you up and down while heading towards the door. Your heart stung, wondering if maybe Ellie didn’t mean what she said before.
“Come by tomorrow night,” said Ellie as she turned the knob. “I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t question me again.”
Ellie left you standing there, your mouth open in shock. You waited a couple minutes before heading downstairs to the party.
“Hey,” you heard Dina call out to you. She grabbed your hand and looked at you with concern. “I shouldn’t have said anything to Ellie. It just made her worse. I begged her not to talk to you but-”
“Dina,” you interrupted. “She explained herself and I explained myself. We’re all good.”
Dina looked surprised. “What? Really? You forgave her?”
You looked behind Dina to see Ellie back on the couch, staring at you with a grin as she puffed on her joint. You smiled at Dina and nodded. “Of course I forgave her. Her apology was genuine and…”
“What did she say?” Dina pressed on.
You shrugged. “I can’t remember everything she said but it was one hell of an apology.”
#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams smut#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams x reader#smut#tlou2#ellie williams tlou2#mean!ellie#drug dealer!ellie#ellie x fem reader
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anemone.
azul ashengrotto x gender neutral! reader 4.6k words cross posted on ao3 "Can I request Azul x reader where after a trip into town the reader is begging Azul for a few shifts at the most to lounge? Turns out in a little shop they found what looks to be a replica of their mom’s wedding ring and they miss their parents so much. Who cares if it’s not real gold or fake diamonds? It looks like home and they’re willing to slave just to get it. Azul can’t turn away tears now can he?"
Everyone knew you were short on money.
You had become one of the most notorious penny pinchers on campus, although, it wasn’t your fault. Crowley’s “generosity” could only take you so far before you had to be creative. Brand new, dubious tuna-based dishes; impractical fixes for your household wares; sewing and resewing every hole in your uniform; and of course, finding jobs anywhere they’d take you.
This was easier said than done, of course. As much as you’d love to go into town and find a stable part-time job, you could only get so far into the application process before it became very apparent that you were not from this world. And you suspected that an unknown person coming in and out of Night Raven College gates with zero records of their existence was not a scandal that Crowley (or you, for that matter) was equipped to handle. Not that anyone would let you starve to death, you had more food-related gifts than you could handle. It made you grateful for Grim’s never-ending stomach. The food was nice, but it wasn’t everything. What you really needed was a steady income.
If you can’t get a job in town, you would have to get the next best thing: The Mostro Lounge. The students who worked there always bragged about the pretty paychecks they earned every two weeks. Who cared that they looked ragged every day? You needed that money.
And that’s why you were here, deep in Octavinelle dorm, begging Azul for a position at the Mostro Lounge. You needed money. Your dorm was falling apart. Your clothes had holes in them. You were just so tired of eating tuna. Anything to garner some sympathy.
He didn’t need to know the real reason. That you’ve been eyeing up in the jewelry shop in town. That you were desperate to buy a ring that looked eerily similar to your mother’s wedding ring. That you were grasping for any reminder of your home. Because that would be embarrassing. And a prime opportunity to get manipulated by Azul. And you had already done that song and dance.
So now, here you were, nervously bouncing your leg while you waited for his response. He seemed to be mulling the idea over, seemingly thinking of a way to trick you into getting the short end of the stick. He hummed an unrecognizable tune while he filed through his contracts, finishing the task he started before you arrived, occasionally peering over his glasses to look at you. You were undeniably anxious, fidgety, and uncomfortable: the prime emotional state to agree to a dodgy deal.
“Now Prefect, do calm down,” Azul mused, placing his chin in his hand after he finished his sorting. He watched as you settled your leg and gave him a tense smile. Despite his confident demeanor, he knew he had to tread carefully here. You were a delicate case.
On the one hand, you were smart. You had already bested him once before, and he knew you were entirely capable of doing it again. You also wouldn’t sign any old contract, even with this out-of-character desperation. On the other hand, Azul couldn’t say he’d seen this level of distress from you before. Especially about your “money problems”.
As smart as you were, he was no fool. Something was up. He just didn’t know what.
“I understand you’re looking for a part-time serving job. The Mostro Lounge is always looking for new talent, however- “
“It’s crucial that I get this job.”
Azul tsks at your interruption before leaning back in his chair. You can see it on his face. Annoyance, frustration. A hint of confusion if you knew what to look for. Nothing pleasant. The smile on his face didn’t change, but his eyes narrowed slightly. Less patient.
“Now, now Prefect, I know your work ethic. I am not against hiring you per se. I just ask for a little… transparency amongst my employees. I’m a fair and equitable boss, I only want to help you.”
Your leg began to bounce again.
“C’mon Azul, you remember what Ramshackle was like. It hasn’t gotten much better. And look- “You hold up your arm to reveal the miserable patch you scrapped together with what remained of your curtains. Your blazer had more mismatched patches than linen at this point.
“Your clothes are ruined, and you’re looking to eat something a bit different this week, yes, yes, I know this one.” Azul finishes. His stare is pointed. “However, this is how it’s always been. And never have I seen you so desperate to pick up shifts. Is there something going on? You know I can help you without sending you to work.”
Fat chance. You know his game. You’d allow him to “help” you and then be stuck as an errand boy indefinitely. You were already Crowley’s servant. You weren’t too keen to be someone else’s. You gingerly lower your arm and take a moment to decide on your answer. The whole truth was out of the question, of course, but you could afford to tell him a little bit. Just enough to get him off your case.
“It’s nothing you don’t already know about, like you said. I’m just… tired of living this way. It’d be nice to have extra cash, so I don’t have to complain constantly. That’s all.” You settle. It wasn’t a lie. You needed extra cash anyway. You were just going to use it for a non-essential.
Well, a non-essential to everyone else.
Azul hums in approval before swiveling his chair around to the filing cabinet behind him. He riles through files of paperwork before grabbing a thick stack of papers. At this point, he knows he isn’t getting any more information out of you. If this was the game you were going to play, he would win by your rules. Azul lets out a soft “ah” as he finds what he’s looking for. He turns back around, and with a snap of his fingers, the filing cabinet closes with a loud clink. He sets the stack of papers down on his desk before opening another drawer. You take the opportunity to read the cover. Mostro Lounge Employee Handbook.
“That is yours to keep. It has all the information you need about our company, code of conduct; policy and procedures- do study those thoroughly-; and workers’ rights,” Azul begins to flip through the booklet before landing on a section towards the end.
“And this is your acknowledgment that you’ve read the handbook. When you finish reading through it, sign here and tear the page from the booklet.”
You grab the booklet from his desk, flipping through the pages quickly. It would take you at least an hour to read through it, let alone study. You land on the Policy and Procedures page and glance at the text written on it. You notice the usual statements, Attendance, Safety, and Security. Each statement had a lengthy explanation of the expectations and appropriate procedures for employees to follow. Each statement ended with a bold statement: No exceptions.
Before you can speak again, Azul hands you another set of papers.
“Here are some other official documents I will need you to sign. Onboarding processes usually involve tax forms and such but considering your unique situation we will have to create a new form for you. As for payment, as you have no bank account, it’ll be in cash.”
You thumb through the additional papers. One is an agreement of payment. The other is a form about uniforms and sizing. There is a rundown of waiter etiquette, the type of service, and a menu. Azul hands you a pen, gesturing to the payment agreement form. You quickly scan the page, looking for nefarious fine print, but ultimately decide it is safe. And you’re happy to see the high pay rate. Working for at least two weeks, plus any tips you could earn, you’re sure you’ll get that ring in no time. You sign your name eagerly. Azul quickly takes the paper and pen from your hands and grins.
“Please return the uniform slip to me by tomorrow so I can get your uniform fitted as soon as possible. I will also need you to sign the other acknowledgment papers and return those before your first day. Once your uniform is ready, you can begin working with us. Do study that menu, I need it memorized before your first day. You will shadow Jade and Floyd. Do you have any questions for me currently?”
Azul was flashing a charming smile at you. His previous look of annoyance is long gone, now replaced with a confident and relaxed gaze. You were slightly overwhelmed but matched his smile.
“Nothing I can’t text you about later, right?”
“Of course. We look forward to working with you, Prefect.”
He rises from his chair and extends a hand. You stand, shake his hand, and bid Azul farewell, carefully securing your stack of papers against your chest. The easy part was finished. Now you had to survive the hard part.
-
By the time you return to your dorm, it’s late. Grim is sitting on your kitchen counter, tail flipping in annoyance. His eyes are squeezed shut, but you know he’s awake and aware of your presence.
“All that time spent in Octavinelle and you didn’t bring any food home?” he grumbles but he happily leans into your scratches as you search for a can of tuna. His eyes open and scans the stack of papers on the counter.
“Since when did you work at the Mostro Lounge?”
“Since today.” You respond, removing your hand and opening the can. Grim follows your hands, walking in front of the can to chase your pets. You swat his head away. For a creature that claims not to be a cat, he sure acted like one.
“Are you gonna start bringing fancy food home? I want steak every day.”
“There’s no way I’m going to be able to bring steak home ever.” You laugh, emptying the tuna can into a bowl and setting it aside. You take the opportunity to look at the formidable pile of documents and sigh. You supposed you’d have to get started on memorizing sooner rather than later.
It was worth it for the ring.
-
A week passed before you were able to officially start your first day. It was an agonizing wait for you. You compulsively went to the jewelry shop the day before your start date to check that the ring was still there. Still on display, the modest ring sat among the other fancy bands. You had seen others beside it come and go, but the silver ring stayed put for nearly a month. You had never been so thankful for your mother’s practicality.
350 madols. You’d get that in two weeks if you were diligent.
On your first day, you were early. Several hours early. You entered Mostro Lounge, still crisp uniform feeling foreign on your skin. Even back home, you had never worn anything this fancy. You tentatively looked around the dark room and took in the sight of the restaurant. You had never seen it so empty. You almost felt like you were trespassing.
“Woaaah Shrimpy even beat us! Guess they’re serious!” You heard Floyd before you felt him. He grasped your shoulder while he moved in front of you. He was wearing the same uniform as you, although slightly more unkempt. While Azul’s policies had stated there were “no exceptions” to the uniform expectations, you figured Floyd couldn’t be contained by such rules.
“Well, that’s good to see. Not many new hires are this passionate about the business,” Jade strides to the other side of Floyd with a polite smile on his face. “You’re aware of the shadowing process, correct?”
“In theory,” you say, shifting your weight from foot to foot. You’ve always been slightly intimidated by the twins. “Floyd is a server and you’re on expo… I doubt I’ll be spending much time with you, though.”
Jade grins at your knowledge. “No, not while I’m doing that. But I also double as floor manager when Azul is out. That’s when you’ll be under my watch. I’m impressed. Azul told me you’re serving experience was limited.”
You bite back your comment about using the internet to look up your questions. Compliments are nice. And you didn’t want to feel any more over your head than you already did. Expeditors were for fancy restaurants. You had never seen one in your old jobs.
“So, because today is a Saturday, we’re open earlier. The chefs will be comin’ in soon to start prepping and making family, and then we’ll be ready to open. It's great that you’re here so early though. Now I can show you everything without people being in my way.” Floyd explains, guiding you through the dining area with your shoulder.
“This is the floor; you’ll primarily be working here. You’re gonna be serving with me, bussing tables, and running food.” Floyd kicks the doors open to the kitchen.
“This is the kitchen, Jade’s territory. That’s the walk-in, that’s the chef area, cleaning station, blah blah blah, you won’t really need anything back here unless you do.”
You decide not to comment on the “unless you do” bit and hope that it means it’s above your pay grade. So far it doesn’t seem too bad. Although there aren’t any guests yet.
“This is your locker; you can put your… nothing here. Yikes. Things that bad at home, Shrimpy?”
“I can always bring Grim if that makes me look less sad.” You joke, glancing around before following Floyd out of the locker area. He shows you Azul’s office, where you quickly drop off your remaining paperwork, the break area, and the storage area. By the time you’ve finished your tour, other employees have already filed in and begun their side work.
“And that brings you to the end of Floyd’s restaurant tour! I deserve a 5-star rating, right Shrimpy?” He grins, leaning down to your height to flash his teeth at you. “Go ahead and start rolling silverware, I’ll come to get you before family.”
Floyd leaves and you join the other servers, chatting politely while you prepare for service to start. You take a deep breath and try to steady your heart. You have to focus and keep your eyes on the prize.
-
Family was deceptively calm and quiet. Service was hell.
The few times you had dined in Mostro Lounge had been nearly perfect. The servers were attentive, the food delicious, and the atmosphere tranquil. It had been a while since you had worked in food service, but even your limited experience in a family-owned diner couldn’t prepare you for just how intensely Azul ran the Lounge.
The shift from front of house to back of house was like night and day. The second you entered the kitchen you could hear screams for “Hands!” and “Service!”. You constantly messed up dishes- bringing the wrong plates to the wrong tables, bringing them too early or late much to Jade’s annoyance, forgetting the menu out of stress, and the amount of chastising you were hearing for letting dishes die was agonizing. You had even crashed into a dishwasher after forgetting to announce “Behind!” breaking several dishes.
This was only your first day.
Floyd quickly told you to take five in the locker room while several students cleaned the mess you made. You quickly sat on the bench and placed your head in your hands. This was an utter disaster. You let out a miserable groan, pulling your knees to your chest. You couldn’t imagine what Azul would make of your performance. You were hoping for some sympathy, but after all the trouble you made, you wouldn’t keep an employee like you around either.
“Prefect.”
Azul’s harsh tone made you quickly regain your composure. You grimaced as you looked up at him from your seat, placing your legs back on the floor.
“I’m really sorry. It was more than I expected, I should’ve asked more questions… I can pay for the dishes, just take it out of my paycheck, I just really need this job- “
Azul put his hands up to stop you. You’re glad he did. You could feel your throat tightening as you explained yourself. You didn’t want to cry in front of him.
“Dishes can be fixed with magic. What can’t be fixed is the experiences the patrons had today.” Azul states. He opens his mouth to say something else before hesitating. You look utterly miserable. Tired, stressed, and anxious. Usually, this many mistakes in one day would warrant termination, but you’re a special case.
“…Clearly, service is a bit much for you. Tomorrow morning, I am heading into town for the farmer’s market. You will join me. Meet me in the Lounge, 6 AM sharp. Do not be late.”
Azul turns sharply and leaves the room. You breathe a sigh of relief before leaning back against the lockers. You only had a couple more hours of your shift. That was plenty of time to get at least one table right. You resigned yourself to doing the best you can before joining everyone back in the kitchen.
-
The next morning you are utterly exhausted. You were chewed up more times than you could count, and the quick turnaround from the previous workday to this morning left you with only a few hours of sleep. You were sure you looked ragged as you walked into the Mostro Lounge.
Floyd and Jade were already there, Floyd half asleep, and Jade fixing centerpieces. Jade glances at you and raises his brow.
“Oh? I figured you would’ve been fired last night.”
The harsh words made you wince, but you nodded in understanding. You did too.
“Yeah Shrimpy,” Floyd yawned. “You messed up big time yesterday. Never seen someone so bad at this.”
You pursed your lips. You were getting less understanding.
“I’m not joining you in service today,” Your brow twitched in annoyance at the sound of Floyd’s Thank God! “I’m joining Azul in town today. Picking up ingredients with him, I think.”
Floyd and Jade exchanged a look before they let out a series of giggles. Floyd’s giggles turn into a cackle that fills the room. You had never felt so much anxiety in your life. Think of the ring. Think of your mom.
“Is there something funny, Floyd?”
Azul asks as he enters the room, exactly on time. You’ve never been so excited to see him before, but if you had learned anything from NRC, it was that you did not enjoy the Twins’ company. Floyd responds to Azul with a cheeky Wouldn’t you like to know? making him scoff. Azul glances around the room, finally spotting you. He seems pleasantly surprised to see you there so early, almost expecting you to be late, or not even bother to show at all. You truly were dedicated to the paycheck. Azul couldn’t help but admire your devotion.
Jade strode over to Azul with a smile, handing him a piece of paper. Azul sighed, read over the note, and gave Jade an annoyed look before stuffing the list in his pocket.
“The Mostro Lounge does not require fifteen new types of mushrooms, Jade. Come now Prefect, otherwise, we’ll be late to the market.” Azul links your arm with his and begins leading you toward the door, and you hear Floyd’s cackles fill the air again.
The walk to town is mostly quiet. You don’t have much to say, and you’re admittedly too tired to wrack your brain for conversation points. You sneak glances at Azul’s profile as you walk, wondering what’s going on in his head.
What was so special about you that he kept you around? What did he want from you that he couldn’t get from anyone else?
“Is there something the matter, Prefect? It’s impolite to stare.”
Azul glances at you with a smile. You furrow your brows.
“Why didn’t you fire me?”
He chuckles.
“Well, I thought you needed a job. I’m helping you, like you asked.”
He leaves it as that once you approach the market. You don’t need to know how much he enjoys your presence, even when you’re messing everything up. You also don’t need to know that Jade and the head chef are usually the ones making the farmer’s market trips. If you were going to withhold information from him, it was only fair to do the same to you.
The time spent shopping is pleasant. The tension fades away the longer you two are shopping together, and you find yourself listening to his explanations of the dishes he serves, and why the restaurant is run the way it is. You’re impressed by how much he’s accomplished at such a young age. Every time he mentions his mother’s restaurant, you can’t help but smile.
As you’re finishing up, you happen to glance around, realizing the jewelry shop is on this street. You look at Azul, who is still conversing with a vendor and begin to inch away towards the shop. You’d just take a look at the ring again, and quickly go back to Azul and leave. Simple.
You enter the shop and greet the shopkeeper, who at this point knows what you’re there to look at. You walk over to the display and peer into the glass. Still on display was your mother’s ring.
“Ah, so this is what you needed the money for!”
Azul almost sounds giddy as he approaches you. You jump back in surprise, not realizing he had even come in. You stammered out apologies, trying to cover up why you had wandered off, but it was too late. You were busted.
Azul glanced at the ring that captivated you. It was a plain silver wedding band with a simple vine engraving. There were no jewels or diamonds in the ring, making it an unpopular pick for couples. To him, it was nothing special. He turned his attention to you, who was still sputtering out explanations, embarrassed. If you just wanted it for aesthetics, you wouldn’t be this flustered. Whatever it meant to you was something he wasn’t privy to, but clearly meant a lot.
“Hey… it’s,” you finally find your words. “It’s 8:30. We have to get back so…”
Azul thankfully says nothing. He nods in agreement, and you begin your walk back to campus.
-
Your walk to quiet once again. You shuffle behind Azul, acting like it’s the groceries in your hands slowing you down. You try convincing yourself that getting caught wasn’t so bad. It shouldn’t have been something you were so embarrassed about. It was natural to miss your parents. It was natural to want something to remind you of them. It was natural to want to work yourself to the bone to earn some money. You didn’t mean to start crying, but you figured you needed it. It started as quiet tears, but they soon turned to sniffles, and then blubbering hiccups. By the time Azul realized you were crying, you were almost wailing.
If you were in the emotional state to pay attention, his panic would be hilarious.
He couldn’t figure out where to start. Did he hug you? Apologize? Ignore you? Tell you to stop crying? He wasn’t trying to upset you. He just wanted to know why you were acting so weird. He tentatively grabbed your arms, gripping them tightly, attempting to soothe you but only successfully shocking you out of a cry. His eyes were wide and worried as he tried to understand where he went wrong.
“Why are you doing that?! It was a ring!”
You sniffed, blinking away the tears in your eyes before frowning.
“It’s my mom’s ring.”
Azul purses his lips. You don’t need to say more than that. He’s a bit of Mama’s Boy himself. He nods slowly and releases your arms before reaching into his coat pocket. He pulls a handkerchief out and wipes your face before you can put the bags in your hands down. Your face is still puffy, but he tried his best to get all the tears and snot off of your face.
“We are extremely late. We must get back immediately so we can open on time.”
And without another word, you two finally make it to the lounge.
-
You finish off your first week a bit better than you started, but not by much. You’ve learned the kitchen lingo fast, but you still weren’t designed for fancy service. You had at least gotten back on Floyd and Jade’s good side, even with the occasional broken dish. You definitely understood why students earned such a high paycheck for their work at the Lounge.
After the final sweep-through, you waved goodbye to the other servers and headed to the locker room. You still hadn’t brought anything to work besides a cell phone, but you preferred sitting here rather than the official break room. You sighed and leaned your head against the lockers, eyes closed. You were utterly exhausted.
A curt, ahem, caught your attention. Standing in the doorway was Azul, eyes focused on you. Since your outburst over the weekend, you have avoided him to the best of your abilities. The embarrassment of breaking down in front of him still fluttered in your stomach. If he noticed, he didn’t show it.
“Hello Prefect. Happy to see you survived your first week,” he said, a small smile gracing his lips. It wasn’t one of his usual suave smirks, but a natural grin.
“Survive is right.” You groaned. “You run this place like a Sargent.”
“That is the restaurant business.” He laughs, approaching you. You notice an envelope in his hands.
“I noticed your improvement. Towards the end of the week, you were beginning to be a bit of help.”
“I think you mean ‘becoming a big help’?”
“No, I was very intentional with my words. You are not cut out for this.”
You put your head in your hands. You couldn’t believe he was firing you with a smile on his face.
“Great, thank you. I assume that’s my first and last paycheck?” You gesture to the envelope with one hand while the other massages the space between your eyes. Azul hums in agreement and hands it to you.
“Please do not let this deter you from visiting the Mostro Lounge again in the future. We will still honor your employee discount.” He opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but the words don’t come out.
“Good day, Prefect.”
Azul leaves abruptly, turning on his heel and exiting in a hurry. You raise a brow but quickly turn your attention to the envelope. It's smaller than you expected, bulging strangely around the middle. You can’t help but open it in the locker room.
You pull out the contents hurriedly. First is your notice of termination. The second is a note. And lastly, is the ring.
You quickly read the note.
Prefect,
I apologize for not delivering this in person. I figured you wanted to be alone after last weekend. Please let this be a reminder that I can always help you without putting you to work. We absolutely could have worked out an arrangement to fund this ring. Nonetheless, I hope this makes up for a paycheck.
Yours sincerely,
Azul
You can’t help the grin that splits your face as you slide the ring on your finger. You’d have to tell him the truth about your feelings.
The whole truth, this time.
#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twst#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader
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only sort of related. might go through my bookmarks at some point and make some of them public because currently all my bookmarks are private but I do very much want to be able to point at my favorite ao3 authors and go "look at them if you like X"
sometimes you have to wonder if you ever checked to see if an author you like on ao3 wrote anything else to discover YES.
#my post#tag ramble below my apologies#yeah i did see a post once about how looking through the bookmarks of authors you like is a good way to find more things you like#and i don't think anyone will probably want to do that with me because the thing im best at is abandoning fics#i want to change that but. i never come up with one shots of the kind i would want to post on tumblr#either because they aren't about characters or they are OC fic or unfinished. or worse. unfinished OC smut.#“why only one shots” i'm not finishing anything above like. 2-3 chapters max. I struggle to finish writing fic longer than like 500 words#i don't know how authors do it#i want to do it though. i have ideas i want to unleash upon the world. but i do not have the willpower or energy to.#and most creative energy keeps going to ocs which isn't really ao3 material...#at least my most recent oc rotation is a genshin oc so i could post her but also that's scary and she's not ready#so many people i follow (and even follow me back what) are such cool authors and i want to write stuff too and show them the person they#follow can create too and then it never happens to a degree i think would make anyone very amazed#wow i have a lot of thoughts on my writing huh. sorry for the tag ramble
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about the post you created on other archives… could you explain more? how are these websites created? are they linked to ao3? why is decentralised fandom good? genuinely curious! thank you :)
1.) I can try, but it's 2AM where I am, so I can't promise length or coherence!
2.) For my two, I fired up a server running Ubuntu 22.04, installed a WHOLE MOUNTAIN of pre-requsites, configured all those running services (otw-a runs on a LOT of those), installed otw-archive, fired up the archive via Walter's guide in some part. For Ad Astra, this was weeks of work, including one 50 hour week. By the time I deployed CFAA a year later, I had it most of the way there in like-- three days, and hired melo to finish her off and change the CSS. All three of us have offered to help support others who want to try, too!
3.) They're only linked to AO3 in the sense they run on the same software. SqWA is Walter's, superlove is melo's, CFAA and Ad Astra are mine. (Though we've all become friends through this, and we do talk to OTW -- hi James! -- so there's no animosity.)
4.) Before Web2.0 really dug in and before social media, you had a lot of fan communities. Some bigger, some smaller, but all of them were microcosms of fandom. Ad Astra, my Trekfic community, has been here for 15 years; one single fandom, this group of people, some of us have known each other this whole time. The support and the friendship and the collaboration's amazing. Now-- imagine the whole internet filled with these little pools of light. I remember it; I was a member of several myself. But beyond reviving that community spirit, there's also the basic fact that AO3 is down right now, Fanfiction.net's a nightmare (says someone who was one of her columnists once!), and having all of fandom concentrated into just two sites risks losing some very large part of it if a catastrophe happens. Multiple archives are a good thing for everyone, even AO3.
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your (househusband) roommate, ajax
word count: 1.5K content warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamics, childe gets called your house husband but you’re not actually married, generally gross stuff (he sniffs your used shirt), it's implied of childe scares away someone else
a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! i lost the original post w/ the basic idea but essentially this is a side au of sagau/self aware genshin where the characters (in this case childe) find their way into your world, but in the process you lose all memories about genshin. i'll be reposting all of the series, but it's also on ao3! part two is here!
when you first learned who your roommate would be, you were exasperated. you’d heard about him before, and you were well aware that he's amassed a reputation of being a trouble maker. you had no interest in getting into trouble, especially not during your first year.
...so you were pretty pleasantly surprised when he turned out to be a total sweetheart.
you’re reminded of that when you enter the kitchen, rubbing at your eyes and yawning. the smell of pancakes wafts through the air, and you can’t even get out a small 'good morning' before ajax is grinning at you and sliding you some pancakes. "don’t wait for me and eat up, okay? I put plenty of love into them, so they should taste great."
you ignore his banter (insisting on waiting for him is a lost battle, you’ve learned) and take a bite. you don’t finish chewing before you sleepily nod.
he laughs good-naturedly. "I’m glad, I’m glad. do you want more?" another drowsy nod has him piling most of the remaining pancakes onto your plate.
he continues chatting with you while you eat and he finishes the batch, though he does most of the talking. as usual, he doesn’t seem to mind your silence too much. once he’s done, he turns the fire off and props his elbow on the counter to stare at you. you don't pay him any mind.
he slides the platter to you the second you peek at it. after having eaten well over two servings you’re not really interested in more though, so you shake your head. "I'm full. aren’t you going to eat any?"
he beams. "aww, were you thinking about me? don’t worry, I already ate." you’re almost certain he didn’t. avoiding the judgemental look that crosses your eyes at his response, he laughs in a way that’d be awkward if it was anyone else. "I’ll put the rest in a tupper then, okay? have them whenever."
he’s taking your plate and putting it in the sink before you can even stand to move it to the dishwasher. you sigh and stick out your tongue at him when he turns to you. "you know you really don’t have to go out of your way do all of this."
he smiles at you. "why not? I enjoy cooking, and you can be my taste-tester." the amounts he feeds you go well beyond that, and he's avoiding the rest of your question, but okay. you should've gotten the message—that it's futile to ask him this kind of question—by now.
while you you face plant into the couch to avoid thinking about anything else, ajax stays in the kitchen, cleaning up and humming some lullaby as he washes the pan and plates. it’s too early to think on this saturday morning. the cushion feels nice and soft against your cheek and you can’t help but burrow yourself further into the pillows.
wait.
you lift your head up, peeking your head out behind the back of the couch.
"the apron is cute."
he nearly drops the pan.
it’s not often that you bring over friends, so ajax insists on cleaning beforehand and serving your group snacks much like a mother hen would throughout their stay.
their two, maybe three if you're pushing it, hour stay. all you’re going to is chat, it’s not like they’re going to be staying overnight or anything.
you sigh but let him do what he wants.
some cookies are laid out by the time they arrive, and he’s hovering around pretty much indefinitely to serve tea or juice.
it’s cute, in a way, but your friends’ teasing is not.
"you know, he’s kind of like your house husband, isn’t he?" your friend comments, leaning over and biting into a powdery cookie.
you try to ignore the way ajax beams. you try to ignore the way he cheers to himself even harder.
"not really..." your weak attempts at rebutting their words make your friends laugh.
the rest of the session goes by normally; you talk about the kinds of things you’d regularly talk about with friends. someone in your group recently received a promotion, and somebody else got fired. somebody gained a boyfriend, another realised she didn’t have the time or energy for relationships not too long ago.
the longer the conversation goes on, the more the chatter becomes background noise as the you retreat to your own world. the drink in your hands gets lukewarm long before you finish it despite your frequent sipping.
when they finally leave, you feel more relieved than you should.
you see them off with a smile, but your head is pounding by the time you sit back down and your ears can finally rest. now that you’re (mostly, ajax is always just kind of there) alone, you can finally have some peace and quiet and relax.
or that’s what you think until ajax leans over the couch, head hovering above yours. "now that they’re gone… would you prefer dinner, a bath, or me?"
you stare at him. he doesn’t move, clearly eager for your answer. eventually, you sigh and gently push his face away. "dinner would be nice."
he laughs, something warm and domestic dancing in his cold eyes. "of course! it’ll be ready soon."
he presses a quick kiss to your cheek before leaving.
you whine, but the space he touched feels tingly even against your own hand.
"ajax."
he drops your wallet, not even attempting to take back the couple hundred bills peeking out. his response is nonchalant, even at his supposed surprise at having been caught by you. "ahh, I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon. look at what I found!"
you stare. at him. at what he’s holding. at your wallet on the floor.
you’re certain you did not have that many hundred bills. you’re going to cry if you find him trying to stuff his money into your wallet again.
"you mentioned liking this, right? I was out earlier and I thought I could get it for you. you know, as a sign of goodwill and all, for being such a great roommate."
a couple months ago, you would have been perplexed. he insists on doing all of the chores and most of the cooking, and he pays most of the bills. is the 'great roommate' status because you’re quiet and don’t host loud parties, or…? you don’t question it anymore at this point.
"ajax."
a couple months ago, he might’ve gotten unnerved by your silence. instead, he pushes it into your hands, a wide grin on face, ruffles your hair and saunters out.
you have yet to find his wallet. despite that, all the cash (and then some) that you’d left on his bedside table or bed has always managed to find a way back to your wallet, so there would probably be little point anyway.
"ah, that reminds me!" he peeks back into your room a couple minutes later. "what would you like for dinner?" the nerve of him to ask this right after he calls you a great roommate…
"maybe some soup?" you say instead.
he smiles, bows, and takes his leave. the apron you called cute a few weeks ago is already fixed onto him.
you sigh, sliding the bills in properly.
wait a second. is that a credit card…?
you were expecting many things when you finally caught him, but him sniffing only your shirt—out of all your available laundry—wasn’t one of them.
"…what are you doing?"
you have never seen him jerk his head as quickly, nor have you ever seen him so red. or speechless.
you both stand there in silence for a few seconds before he blinks rapidly and his breathing becomes ragged. "it’s not—I—it’s not what you think, I swear—"
"okay, whatever." you wave him off. somehow, this doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. "I don’t care what you were doing, don’t do it again."
he nods quickly, considerably less composed than he usually is, and shoves your shirt back into the basket briskly. "also… can you stop leaving your stuff in my wardrobe. I know you know the difference."
"ah, that was…" he’s clearly at a loss for words, not sure how to justify himself after having been caught committing not only one transgression, but two.
you set the clothes of his you were bringing to him down, tempted to just throw them at him.
you swallow your nerves, almost nervously meeting his eyes. "look, I don’t really care, but can you at least leave me stuff like your jacket or sweater? your shirts aren’t really my style."
his breathing hitches again but he gives no response otherwise, so you shake your head and turn to leave. the laundromat room is thankfully empty save for the two of you, something you’re glad for.
as you pass through the door, it occurs to you that the guy who’d been smoking in here hasn’t shown up in a while. now that you think about it, that was the reason ajax had offered to take over laundry duty too...
oh well, it’s of no concern to you, you think to yourself as you make the journey back to your room.
#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#genshin impact#yandere genshin impact#self aware au#self aware genshin#childe#tartaglia#repost#i think that's all the tags i used last time#HOW DID THE EDITOR GET WORSE IN MY ABSENCE...
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Good Boy ☆ kjs
💜DAY 6: discipline with kim jongseob
💜wc: 2.6k
💜genre/pairings: dom!reader x sub!jongseob, bdsm, SMUT, MDNI
💜warnings: discipline, strap-on sex, bottom!jongseob, top!reader, slapping (consensual), strap-on blowjob, strap-on facefucking, spanking, mommy kink, ass eating, anal fingering, anal sex, begging, slight orgasm delay, aftercare
💜a/n: day 6 of piwontober 2024 has arrived! special thanks to @sxfterhearts and @kisseobie for hosting and organizing such a fun kinktober fanfic writing event. this fic will also be cross-posted to my ao3 account here. also, if you're interested in more of this reader x jongseob dynamic, check out my ao3 fic "Who's Your [Redacted]?" - which is still in progress on ao3 but will be cross-posted to this account once finished.
“Mommy, please… I’m sorry,” Jongseob whined, his beautiful deep brown eyes staring up at you, pleading for mercy.
You looked down at him and took in the beautiful sight before you: the man on his knees wearing nothing but a pair of gray Calvin Klein boxer briefs, wrists bound behind his back, and tears starting to wet the corners of his eyes.
You smirked down at him affectionately, but without mercy, as you pushed his two-tone honey blonde and brown hair out of his face so you could get a better look at him. His cheeks were flushed, decorated with subtle freckles from the time he’d spent out in the sun this summer. Now that the season was coming to a close, they’d probably go back into hiding until the following year.
“You know what you did, sweetie,” you said with a mock in your tone.
“I know, but–”
Slap!
The sound of your open palm striking his face rang out in the otherwise quiet room. This was the one part of your dynamic that always had you on the fence, always worrying that it would be too much, that you would actually hurt him, and just like always, you had a moment of regret, seeing his face scrunch up in pain and a tear slip out of one of his eyes.
However, looking down, you saw a conspicuous hardness beginning to strain against the thin gray fabric of his underwear, a small dark spot already appearing. And you were reminded once again, how much he loved being punished.
The reasons for his punishments were always a little vague, and although you were happy to oblige in his penchant for being disciplined, it turned you on the most to see him begin to act bratty because you knew he was trying to get on your nerves so that he’d have to pay for it later. Sometimes he’d start ignoring you, or he’d just start acting rude for no reason, anything to get you to start scolding him, and when he would be really stubborn in response for no reason, that’s when you knew. You knew he craved being put in his place. Pushed to his knees. Taught a lesson.
This time, it was because he’d been rude to you when you asked him for a favor. Next time, it would be something equally mundane.
So that’s why, when you noted the tear slipping down his face in the same moment that you noticed his hardening cock, you knew that you needed to keep going. With your right hand, you grabbed his chin and yanked it back towards you, forcing him to look up at you again. His lips in a pout, he muttered, “I said I was sorry.” You scoffed in response.
“Prove it, then. Prove how sorry you are,” you said, and with your left hand, smacked the other side of his face with the dark purple dildo that was attached to the harness strapped to your hips.
“O-okay, I’ll do anything,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut and wincing from the force of the dildo before you brought your right hand up to his mouth and swiped your thumb over his bottom lip slowly.
You felt drunk on power, seeing the way he melted under your touch, and the fact that there was so little he wouldn’t do for you in this headspace. He looked up at you and you shared a moment of tender eye contact with him before pushing your thumb into his mouth, pressing down on his tongue. Without hesitation he closed his lips around it and began to suck, his tongue soft, pliable, and impossibly wet against your skin.
He maintained stubborn eye contact with you and you felt the blood rush to the junction between your legs. Your nipples hardened against the lining of your bra and you tried to keep it together, but he was making it more and more difficult.
You pulled your thumb away abruptly and he leaned forward as if to chase it, letting out a quiet whine.
You didn’t give him a chance to recover before replacing your thumb with the dildo strapped to your hips. He moaned around it, brows pressed together in effort, and sighed out of his nose as you began to thrust into his mouth.
With one hand gripped in his hair, and the other hand on the dildo, he was completely at your mercy, and he already looked absolutely pitiful. Your relentless thrusts hitting the back of his throat had him gagging repeatedly, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks, but you could see in his eyes how fucked out he already was, could see from the expanding dark spot in his underwear how badly he was enjoying being ruined.
“Look at my good boy, taking mommy’s cock so well,” you crooned, and he closed his eyes as you brushed your fingers gently through his hair, the dildo still thrusting in and out of his mouth, a little more slowly now, his lips swollen and wet by this point.
The sounds he was making were diabolical, the noises of his shameless moaning around the strap-on making your legs weak, distracting you. You tightened your hand in his hair and yanked his head back, slipping the dildo out of his mouth. He let out a series of wet coughs, saliva coating his lips and more tears starting to slip from the corners of his eyes.
Once he’d finished coughing, you cupped the side of his face and he leaned into your touch, struggling to catch his breath, his eyes fluttering closed.
“I think that’s been enough punishment for today. Are you ready for me to take care of you, my sweet angel?”
“Yes. Please, I promise I’ll be good,” he begged, and you couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he was.
“Stand up,” you ordered, and he obliged immediately. His nipples jutted out from the soft swell of his chest, hardening in the cool air of the room, and his tender knees were red from kneeling on the rough carpet. His hands were still bound behind him, so he was truly at your mercy.
You ran your fingers along the waistband of his underwear teasingly, eliciting a shudder from him, but otherwise he stayed quiet and still, his abs tensing lightly from the brush of your fingertips.
You pulled them down his narrow hips, letting them drop to the floor as his now full erection bounced lewdly once you’d freed it. You placed a hand on his hip and guided him towards your hips as you gently stroked his velvety length against the purple silicone cock attached to your hips, still wet with his saliva. He gasped quietly, biting down on his lip from your too-light touch.
You did this only for a few brief moments before releasing him and ordered him onto the bed, ass up. He crawled onto the mattress obediently, hands still behind his back, and your heart softened at the way he struggled to get into position in his bound state. You grabbed the restraints on his wrists and began to undo them, causing him to turn his head and look at you, confusion coloring his features.
“I’m going to take these off, but only if you keep your hands to yourself. Do you understand?” you asked firmly, and he nodded, the side of his face pressed into the bed uncomfortably.
Slap!
Your hand stung from how hard you’d smacked his ass, and he winced in pain but kept his arms up by his head, supporting himself on his elbows. “I’m sorry, y-yes mommy. I won’t touch myself. I promise I won’t,” he said quickly, voice strained, panting into the pillow that he’d grabbed for support.
You rubbed the red mark that had begun to bloom on his ass, soothing away the ache, before slapping it again, eliciting a muffled whimper from him. “Sorry,” you said, “I know I said your punishment was finished, but I just can’t help myself.”
You stared at the way his tiny asshole fluttered as you brushed a finger across it gently.
“It’s okay,” he breathed, turning to look back at you for a brief moment. “I can take it.”
“Oh, I know you can,” you soothed, bending down to grab an ass cheek and press your finger more firmly against his opening. Teasing. Torturing. Until you just couldn’t help yourself anymore and leaned in to lick a hot strip of saliva against his hole, taking him off guard completely as he gasped loudly.
This was your favorite part. You weren’t sure how balanced it was if you ‘rewarded’ him for being disciplined, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. That part was for him, and this part was for you.
You prodded at his asshole with your middle finger, massaging the soft, puckered flesh, and even though you hadn’t quite planned it to go this way, you removed your finger to begin licking against him again. He moaned shamelessly, burying his head in the pillow, and you could tell how much he had to restrain himself from pushing his ass back into your face. You spread his small cheeks as wide as they would go, your face soaking wet with saliva, and buried your face in him. You were addicted to his noises, his smell, the texture of his skin; you felt drunk, and couldn’t get enough.
Pulling away and eliciting a whine from him that had you slapping the sore spot on his ass once again – which shut him up immediately – you reached over to grab the bottle of lube from the bedside table and covered your fingers generously with the thick substance. You’d recently opted for an oil-based lubricant so you didn’t have to keep reapplying it, and it had made a world of difference. After all, Jongseob hated being interrupted when you were fucking him.
After warming it up in your hands, you massaged it against his opening, and he hummed contentedly when you pressed a finger inside him, sliding it slowly but steadily until you were past the second knuckle and could begin to slowly pump in and out of him. After a few minutes of getting him warmed up, you added a second finger, and eventually a third. By this time, his breathing was coming out ragged and he already sounded wrecked.
He gasped at the loss of contact when you removed your fingers and began to liberally smear lube along the strap-on, coating it thoroughly before lining it up against his hole and pressing into him slowly.
He moaned loudly into the pillow as you slid inside, pausing as you bottomed out. You wished there were no barriers between your skin and his, the straps of the harness cutting into your skin mildly, but you had to work with what your biology allowed. It wasn’t enough, but it was good enough.
“You ready, baby?” you asked, holding yourself still and rubbing the soft skin of his lower back soothingly.
“Yes, mommy. Please fuck me. Please, I’ve been so good, I need your cock,” he begged, and you gave in to his pleas, pulling out and snapping your hips back against his ass, causing him to cry out and grip the pillow tightly. You held onto his hip with one hand and braced yourself on the bed with the other, rolling your hips into him with increasing speed. Although you wished that there was sensation in the dildo so you could feel yourself inside him, the action still made your groin throb with pleasure nonetheless.
You pulled out of him and he whimpered from the sensation as you flipped him easily onto his back and pushed him further up the bed so that you could kneel on it in front of him. You pushed his legs apart and lined up the dildo against him again, taking no time sinking back into him. You looked at his face while you did it, wanting to see the way it affected him, craving the sight of him falling apart under you, filled up and overwhelmed.
His eyes were squeezed shut, his brows furrowed together and his cute nose was slightly scrunched up. You pushed his bangs out of his face to see him more clearly and could feel the dampness in his hair, the heat radiating from his blushing skin. His wet lips were slightly parted and he opened his eyes to look at you. He looked like he could burst out crying at any moment, his petite, flushed cock swollen and bouncing against his stomach.
“Will you kiss me? Please?” he asked so politely that in that moment you’d have rather died than deny him. You pulled back and thrust back into him slowly as you leaned down to capture his lips with yours. He exhaled a warm sigh through his nose against your face and whimpered against your mouth as you began moving in and out of him again, increasing your speed gradually as his tongue entered your mouth, hot, wet, and hungry.
As you pulled away from the intense kiss, you hooked an arm under each of his legs to spread him apart even further, deepening your access to him. With each of your hands braced on the bed, you began fucking into him relentlessly, snapping your hips at an angle that had him throwing his head back, his eyes becoming wet with tears once again.
His breathing became labored and his chest was red and splotchy, covered in a thin sheen of sweat that looked good enough to lick off of him. His breathy moans started to come out in little gasps and he opened his eyes to look up at you, expression panicky and distraught.
“Mommy, I’m–”
“Not yet. Be good for me and wait, or else,” you managed to order between breaths, your own breathing becoming labored with effort.
“I—fuck, okay. Okay,” he whined out, and you couldn’t help smiling at his desperation. After continuing to fuck into him until he was a babbling mess, his cock leaking relentlessly, you conceded, unable to deny him any longer.
“Okay my sweet boy,” you said at long last. “Come for me.”
He let out a sigh of relief, grabbing his cock and only pumping it a few times before he made a mess all over himself, sticky white cum spurting all over his stomach and chest.
You continued thrusting but slowed to a very gradual stop, letting him ride out his orgasm but trying not to overstimulate him too much. He moaned quietly as you pulled out of him and removed the harness, rushing to the bathroom to grab a warm wet towel and a glass of water.
When you returned to the bedroom he was limp on the bed, just an absolute mess, eyes closed, chest rising and falling dramatically, a dopey fucked-out smile on his face. You paused to take in the sight of him, smiling ear to ear and heart aching at the sight. He had a tendency to have that effect on you.
After wiping up the mess on his stomach, you crawled into bed with him and gathered him into your arms. He buried his head in your chest and you ran your fingers through his soft hair, peppering the top of his head with gentle kisses.
“So good for me,” you whispered repeatedly, and he hummed into your skin, tightening his arms around your body.
You found yourself guiltily looking forward to the next time he ‘got in trouble.’ This would just never get old.
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Update Post
Prologue | AO3
Previous Next
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“I think I could eat this everyday, every meal, for a month.”
Sam’s gushing over the fulfilled requests for dinner earned a chuckle from the replacement team that had brought it. Stephanie, Cass and Jason had all been sent home to get their own dinner, being ones with their masks covering their mouths. And now Dick and Duke were nibbling on the second half of their own dinner while three of the teenagers crammed the food into their mouths at a rate that made Duke concerned.
“Just don’t choke on it, okay? We’re not going to take it away if you’re worried about that,” Duke commented, still marveling at how much food was disappearing into Danielle’s mouth. He was a little envious of everyone else getting to eat dinner at the manor, but this made up for it just a bit.
“I’ll let our chef know you liked it,” Dick just laughed, not minding the poor table manners at all. These kids probably hadn’t had a good meal since before they’d arrived in Gotham, so he couldn’t blame them for gorging on the warm meal. Plus it was Alfred’s cooking. Even if they weren’t half starved he’d bet they still would have devoured the food.
“I can’t decide if I’m just hungry or if this really is the most amazing steak I’ve ever tasted,” Tucker almost whispered. The only reason he had slowed down was because he was already on his third steak.
“Probably a bit of both,” Dick laughed again, enjoying his own steak of the same preparation. He had been worried about Jazz when he’d gotten back, but she seemed to be doing better now. She’d seemed even more sullen than before when they’d returned, still sitting on the stool near Danny and curling her fingers around his hand. Dick had watched her for a bit while they had unloaded the food and found that the heart monitor was probably not making her feel comforted at all. Danny’s heart rate was slow, and irregular, ranging 40 beats per minute on average and sometimes having gaps in between. It was the gaps that had clued Dick in to it being the problem, seeing Jazz snap her attention to the screen when there had been a delay, and flinching when the next beat sounded. It had been enough motivation for Dick to switch the monitor to a silent mode, adding in parameters for when to trigger an alarm when he did so. Leslie had assured them that the half frozen state of Danny’s body was what was causing the lower heart rate, and that they wouldn’t be able to do anything about it until they broke Danny out of his own self caused stasis. So Dick felt it was unnecessary to torture his sister with the sound of the monitor.
Luckily once Duke coaxed her over to eat, the taste of the food had been enough distraction for Jazz to sink her teeth into the fried chicken with little care for the fork. She’d made it through probably an entire fried chicken on her own by now, and also had plenty of the squash and other vegetables. It was pleasing to see, though Danielle made Dick almost think his best friend Wally was there, and only eating slowly to be polite. She definitely had some sort of altered metabolism, following true to her request and finishing off five chickens and an entire butternut squash on her own. When Duke had asked if she liked the food she’d just given a thumbs up and grinned with her teeth sunk into a drumstick.
“...We’ve made some progress on your predicaments,” Dick eventually started once they had given the kids enough time to eat a good amount. It caused all of them to slow, and Danielle paused for a moment to burp into her hand before quietly looking towards him. “Are you guys familiar with the concept of alternate realities? Sometimes referred to as dimensions, realms, multiverse…”
It wasn’t a completely foreign concept to the kids, but not one that seemed too familiar either based on their only semi confused reactions to the question. Tucker took a moment to clear his mouth before answering for them. “Yeah, we’ve heard of them. They’re all over in science fiction stories and stuff.”
That response made Dick’s subconscious pause. It wasn’t an outright lie, but something about it seemed off. Deliberately vague. “Well, you’re all in one now,” Dick continued without pausing outwardly.
Sam almost spit her drink as Tucker and Jazz both exclaimed, “WHAT?!”
“You mean the stupid morons shot us to a different realm?” Danielle burst, obviously irritated.
“Does that mean the- … Is our dimension still there?” Jazz asked, half rising to her feet and looking from Danielle to Dick.
“Calm down, it’ll be alright,” Dick called evenly, making a calming motion with his hands. “Just displacing a few people from their original dimension usually isn’t enough to cause it to disappear. I’m sure your original home is fine. But that’s also why you’ve been having such difficulty here. You didn’t exist in our dimension until a few months ago.”
It was starting to click in their heads, Dick and Duke watching as the connections were being made as each teen’s expression became one of realization.
“Your debit card,” Sam noted, pointing to Jazz.
“When I tried to call mom and dad on the payphone,” Jazz responded.
“And the fact that no one seems to have even heard of ectoplasm as an actual substance,” Tucker chimed in. “We just thought everyone in the big city were a bunch of weirdos,” he added, looking back to Dick and Duke. “Amity has always been a hotspot, we knew that. But all the people in costumes and codenames we’d never heard of? We just thought it was some fad big city people did that never made it to our town.”
“Not like we didn’t have other things to worry about too,” Sam added, folding her arms for a moment before glancing back to her plate and deciding the butternut squash was more enticing than being closed off.
“That makes sense. It’s also why you never would have heard of Batman or the rest of us,” Dick agreed. Being more worried about keeping themselves and their 5th team member alive would definitely not leave them with a lot of free time to even consider they were in another dimension. “In light of this we’re not relying too much on what we need being pre existent. So Batman is currently working on an antitoxin based on breaking down plant based matter - our botanical contact confirmed blood blossoms don’t exist here - and figuring out a way we can collect ectoplasm from the ambient instead of relying on something like Lazarus water. While he works we’ll keep providing you five with what you need. Unfortunately you’ll have to stay here to keep out of trouble. I don’t know about your realm, but ours has a bunch of laws about citizenship, and being in other countries without the proper verification and paperwork. Considering you’re essentially without citizenship to any country, we don’t want you guys getting taken in by the police. Members of our team will keep in touch, and give you guys updates as they come. Make sense?”
It was unexpectedly more than they were used to getting. Even back in Amity people still had mixed feelings about ghosts, so they had to rely only on themselves for any help. While avoiding dealing with any local self proclaimed heroes that liked to hunt ghosts too. But it seemed that these people, Batman and those who worked for him, didn’t really care that two of their team were half ghosts. They didn’t seem to know anything about ghosts, yet were still willing to help.
“So, you’re saying if we behave ourselves and stay under house arrest, you’ll still help Danny?” Danielle asked when no one else made a comment before her.
“Yes. Our original agreement still stands, regardless of if you’re from this dimension or not,” Dick confirmed. It was less about them being illegal residents and more about them possibly still being targeted though. Lazarus water wasn’t something the common criminals had access to, so Dick and the others had a hard time believing whoever had been slighted would give up after one assassination attempt. They had to keep their new charges safe by keeping them off the radar. And the best way they could think of keeping them out of trouble they had no idea they were even walking into was to keep them isolated from the potential threats. At least until they could get Danny healthy again, and teach them all who and what to avoid.
“.... Alright,” Jazz nodded this time. She was still the one who was the most wary of the four, but Dick was already seeing her starting to become more willing to believe them. He wouldn’t say she trusted them yet, but she was at least open to listen. “Thank you… for the update.”
—----
Back at the Wayne manor Cass and Barbara were watching the video feed from Dick and Duke’s masks while Bruce was in a separate part of the cave working on the anti toxin. When Cass tilted her head after Tucker’s answer about having heard of alternate dimensions, Barbara glanced at her. “Is he lying?” she asked, that being the first thing she could think of that would get Cass to react.
Cass remained quiet for a moment, watching their reactions to being informed they were in a different dimension, and blinking at Jazz’s slip up. “Not quite. They’re hiding something, but… It’s protective. They don’t want us to know because they think they’re keeping something safe,” she answered.
“Something other than Danny?” Barbara asked, having caught the two extra bits of information. Danielle had mentioned another group of people, and Jazz had started to speak of something other than their original realm. Obviously the people Danielle called morons weren’t who they were being protective of, so it had to be the thing that Jazz was wondering if it was still there. And Jason had also already given them the comment that Jazz seemed wary of the government. So were the morons part of the government in their dimension? Or a different party? It was pretty safe to follow the idea that the morons could potentially be the ones who they had been fighting before being sent to Gotham, and therefore the ones who had hurt Danny. And it was a fair reason not to trust government officials if all three of those facts were connected.
Cass nodded to Barbara’s question, confirming that they were on the same train of thought. “They are not used to being given help from outsiders,” she added once Dick had given the full report.
“That tracks with how they reacted to the rescue mission,” Barbara smirked slightly. It was unfortunately something they saw often enough in the kids in Gotham, so it wasn’t too hard to work with their lack of trust.
“What else is new?” Jason’s question came as he looped his arms over the back of the chair Cass was in, damp hair betraying he’d borrowed one of the showers in the manor.
“Jason? I thought you’d headed home already,” Barbara greeted. “Nothing crazy. Cass says it looks like they’re protecting something else other than Danny, but we haven’t gotten enough hints to start guessing what.”
“Hmm,” Jason hummed, watching the video feed of their wards getting settled for the night. It was all spare sleeping mats and quilts, but it hopefully was better than what they had been dealing with so far. “Tim and Steph are working on who had them targeted? Will there be a follow up attack?”
“It’s highly likely,” Barbara admitted with a small grimace. “Currently the League of Assassins are the only ones who have access to Lazarus water. It looks like the Phantom kids intercepted an exchange to another contact to get their canister. Judging by the amount and destination it seemed to have been en route to a research facility. Depending on how far along the transaction was, and how close of ties the League has with the buyer, I can see them targeting the one that interfered.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Jason sighed. “I’ll head back there for the morning rotation, I don’t think the girl Dani will behave very long. You think she’s the one called Phantom?”
It was only mildly surprising to see that Jason had taken an interest in this task. The kids had been in an area close to where he usually patrolled after all. Though Barbara grew a little sad when he asked if she thought Danielle was the one they had all adopted the name Phantom from. As Cass shook her head and pointed to Danny, Barbara added her agreement. “I think the boy is the original Phantom. They follow Jazz instead of her, and… she is his clone.”
Jason’s eyes widened at the revelation, having not been at the manor when the DNA samples had been on screen. When Barbara pulled them back up to show him how they knew, Jason huffed in bitter amusement. “Unexpected sibling indeed,” he mused, remembering what Jazz had said. “They must get along well enough since she doesn’t seem to mind being named after him too.”
“Indeed. They all seem close,” Barbara agreed, gaining a smile as Dick’s check in on the room of sleeping teens revealed Danielle had already moved in her sleep enough to be laying across Jazz’s waist with her feet propped up on Tucker.
Now that there wasn’t much to watch for that Dick and Duke couldn’t take care of, Cass turned the chair to face away from the computer. “Sleep. Be ready for tomorrow,” she announced, looking at both of them before getting up.
“Yeah that sounds like a good idea,” Jason agreed, tucking his hands in his pockets. “I’ll take a nap then cover the early morning patrol before coming back to pick up breakfast. If Tim is on morning duty for the kids too, make sure he also gets some sleep. I don’t want to deal with his nasty drink getting spilled in the car.”
Barbara could only snort at the comment, raising a hand to wave. “As if any of us can ever get that kid to sleep even without a case,” she chuckled. “I’ll try, but no promises.”
“Fair enough,” Jason huffed, heading up the stairs and leaving Barbara to watch the monitors.
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Big huge loving thank you to everyone for all the comments and requests on the previous section 8D I got a bunch of good ideas, and even got some things I was struggling with figured out. I also learned about the cutie that is Jon Kent X'D
I can't promise I'll incorporate everything that I'm interested in, but hopefully it'll still be fun. d>v<b
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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl, @op-sys-chaos
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💚🎃Green Is Definitely Your Color🎃💚
Stan Pines x AFAB!Reader Explicit | 2.8k words Tags: Gender-Neutral Reader, Reader wears a dress, Halloween Costumes, Trick-or-Treating, Sexual Roleplay, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Voice Kink, Stan is a Leg Man, Body Worship, Marking Kink, Reader Plays Bride of Frankenstein
In which body paint and Stan's mouth save the day (but ruin a perfectly good costume).
{Read on AO3}
Author's Note: Originally posted 2020 on AO3, but I wanted to give it a proper tumblr post. I'm very proud of this one except I didn't know how to end it and it shows lol
Thankfully, there are only a few things you and your boyfriend don’t see eye-to-eye on. Stan takes his coffee black (old habit from the days of shoddy motels and a life on the run), while your own brew of choice is iced (lasts longer and doesn’t get cold since it already is). He thinks it’s perfectly reasonable to scare a baby every now and then, and proceed to laugh in their pudgy little tear-streaked face. You? You told him he’d be the one bawling if you ever caught him pulling that in your periphery again.
Tonight, though? Tonight is the perfect example of just how good you two are together. Because tonight, you weren’t scaring babies. Tonight, on Halloween, you were scaring kids. And that was worlds apart from wreaking havoc in the grocery store, which happened the majority of the remaining 363 days of the year.
Sure, Stan always goes all-out for his beloved Summerween, but October 31st is when his freak flag really flies. It makes sense-- Fall brings less tourists than usual, and shorter daylight hours means fewer parents letting their kids come out to the woods to trick or treat, making every opportunity for a scare count.
With the Mystery Shack trading its typical kitsch for spooky ephemera-- fully decked out in giant spiderwebs, ghoulish figures, and angry jack-o-lanterns-- it’ll truly be a dramatic sight to behold.
But, for all the elaborate planning, special effects to make the eyes pop out of his skull and the bolts on his neck to spark and smoke, Stan still manages to miss a few spots needing body paint.
“Alright, alright, I think y’got it,” Franken-Stan fake-grumbles up at you from his seat in front of the full-length mirror.
“Will you relax? You’re gonna sweat, and I’ll have to do your makeup all over again,” you scold, though your painted lips curl into a fond grin despite yourself.
Though the kids will start coming any minute, you’re set on completing the finishing touches, if for no other reason than to keep Stan from further grumbling later.
… And most certainly not because you also love the opportunity to dote, holding him close in ways he’d otherwise be too shy about. Not at all.
“Are you going to wear your glasses?” You ask, getting his ears nice and green with the sponge brush.
He gives it some thought. “As much as it hurts the spook factor, I can’t really scare anybody if I fall on my face.”
Another, final once-over at your work and you’re satisfied, stepping back and raising your arms in the air triumphantly to steal yourself for your best mad-scientist cackle. “My creation! It’s aliiiive!”
Stan laughs, quickly standing and caging you with his arms against the wall. “Damn right. Alive as ever.”
You shoo both him and the remark away, looking over your white “dress” (old sheet) to check for any green that may have made its way onto your costume. “I thought you were in a hurry, hmm? There’s no time for a touch-up. Now, be a good ‘husband’ and carry the train.”
Stan’s eyes roll as he lifts the gown, following your lead downstairs. “Yes, honey.”
Trying very carefully not to trip, Stan helps you down the stairs. “I still think it’s dumb that The Bride of Frankenstein doesn’t get a name, though. Sure, she’s in it for all of three minutes, but she gets the movie named after her and doesn’t even get a line?”
“Nah, she just screams,” Stan laughs, dropping your dress as you meet the front door. “Like it hurts to exist.” He swings the door open and the both of you speak in unison.
“She gets it.”
You share a small laughing fit at that, making your way outside into the crisp autumn air, giddy to begin the festivities. A few to last-minute adjustments and tech checks, and The Shack will be ready.
“Seriously though-- why can’t she be, like, Victoria or something?”
Over by the skeleton crawling out from under the porch, Stan snorts. “Victoria? Why?”
You shrug. “Why not?”
“Touche.”
It’s finally the tail-end of the second hour, and you’re in position behind the semi-trapdoor mechanism on the porch, hidden behind a dark and stormy castle standee. You’re high on the energy so far, after making some kids scream-squeal in delight. Although, you did manage to terrify a toddler on accident without even trying-- the poor thing burst into tears at the mere sight of you walking out normally from the porch.
Maybe it was the semi-realistic stitches on your flesh? Who knows. All that’s clear is you felt awful, but Stan was very clearly amused-- and jealous, you’d wager.
But now that it’s past bedtime for most little ones, it’s time to up the ante with some added special effects-- and the fast-approaching gaggle of baby teens seem to be the first that’ll enjoy them.
Always on top of it, Stan lets out a Frankenstein-like groan, marching further from the end of the porch, arms raised in cheesy classic style. The kids stop in their tracks as he clears his throat roughly to give the spiel he’s practiced all night, an extra ~spooky~ lilt to his otherwise mostly-normal voice:
“Foolish humans! You daaaare demand gifts, when your hubris created me from cursed flesh, and your hatred ensured my demise?!” He’s truly in his element as his neck bolts flicker for emphasis, making most of the middle schoolers jump and gasp.
The one at the front of the pack though, doesn’t budge, instead holding their pumpkin bucket out with an overall look of disinterest. “Yeah, duh. Trick-or-treat, old man. Hand over the candy.”
“Rude little shit,” you frown, not even needing to see Stan’s face to know he’s going to enjoy this particular scare very much.
“Hold it, kid, ” Stan sneers, continuing his introduction, “if you want anything good to eat, you’ll need to ask the most blood-curdling-- ”
You flip the switch for the fog machine, and bellows of grey creep in around the Shack--
“--The most SPINE-TINGLING, repulsive monster of us all--!”
You quickly step on the nearby button, and lightning flashes across the house as thunder sounds--
“ --MY WIFE! ”
At his signal, your spring forward, eyes crazed as a horrendous banshee screech leaves your throat and white tendrils wave in the wind.
The rude kid screams-- and while Stan bursts out laughing and you smile evilly, you miss them reflexively reach into their bucket, pull something out, and chuck it right at you before scampering away.
With a dull thud, the projectile lands on your head with a muffled thud, sending you off balance and toppling off the platform in a second. You hear Stan’s barks at the hoodlum, but soon he’s up the porch at your side, just as surprised as you are.
“The hell-- you alright, babe?”
Stan helps you up as you glance around for the offending object that’s left your head and the arm that broke your fall aching. “I-- what the fuck was that?!”
A large, off-white sphere rolls along a groove in the deck, moved by your shifted weight. It hits the edge of your shoe, and you pick it up to find it’s…
A popcorn ball.
A really fucking heavy, rock-hard popcorn ball.
With a splotch of white from your forehead smeared across it.
Stan’s bursts out laughing, though he doesn’t let his supposedly helpful grip on your waist go. “Who the hell gave that thing out?? They must’ve been saving it for last century-- ”
It’s funny. Like, really funny. Comedy freaking gold.
But your head hurts and you fell, and shit, your wig’s messed up…
Your own laughter breaks suddenly, and before you even know it you’re tearing up.
Franken-Stan blanches the soon as it hits him. “H-hey, sweetheart, I’m sorry-- are you alright?”
The comforting hands on your shoulder, the concern in his voice breaks the dam, tears spilling out despite your mind knowing better, and wanting to continue laughing it off like you should-- like you want to.
“I’m fine Stan, I’m fine, I-- I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m crying, I really don’t,” you laugh, dabbing at your eyes with a bandage-covered hand. “That was too perfect.”
“Don’t apologize, that kid’s an asshole.”
“An asshole with a hell of a pitch,” You laugh, finally meeting Stan’s eye.
“Wanna go inside? It’s gettin’ late anyway,”
“No! No, are you kidding? We just got started with the lightning! I’m fine, I promise--”
He raise an eyebrow skeptically.
“Really, I am. I’m the most horrifying creature of them all, right?”
“Hah! Sure are, sweet thing, sure are.”
“Then let’s get back to scaring. I’ll be ready to duck this time.” You laugh, elbowing Stan before getting back into place, and Stan follows.
11:27pm
There hasn’t been a kid in nearly 30 minutes, and with another hour under your belt, the pair of you are content to turn in for the night for some movies and the Halloween goodie bags left behind by scared trick-or-treaters.
Flopping down on the bed, your tired body practically sings. “Goddd, that kid really got me good.” The hands on your face muffle your words, but Stan gets the idea.
Taking pity on you, he pulls up the nearby chair and starts unlacing one of your boots for you. “Happens in the line of duty sometimes. Shoulda seen what one fairy princess threw at me one year-- actually, I don’t even wanna know what it was.” He jokes(?), tossing the shoe aside and beginning on the other.
“Knocked me down at the top of my game…” you mutter, twiddling with the end of a splayed-out strip of your garment.
“Hey,” Stan drops the other boot to the floor with a thud, quickly peeling off the striped sock that lay underneath. “Don’t forget, you scared the absolute shit out of that brat.”
You let out a hum, then chuckle. “Triggered his fight and flight.”
"Exactly,” he replies definitely, sling-shotting the second sock in the air. It lands on your chest, but you quickly toss it over to nowhere in particular.
“I don’t know if I can even get back up. Just let me die here,” you groan, only half-joking as the strenuous activities of the day catch up to you. “I’ll be a corpse for next Halloween.”
“Well, yer already halfway there in that getup,” Stan shrugs off the jacket of his costume and lets it fall on the chair. A glance across your form reminds him of the “bolts” attached to his neck, which he peels off with a wince. “And I’m not far behind ya.”
“I’ll be lucky if I look this good when I’m dead,” you laugh, adjusting to get more comfortable and fully prepared to just pass out, wig and all.
Stan’s eye catches on the bare skin of your leg that’s revealed when you shift, the stark white of your gown falling to the side as it bends at the knee and the other still hangs off the bed uselessly. He hums, appreciative of the sensual view of you before him: limbs draped out, black eye makeup smudged...
Your eyes fly open at the feeling of Stan’s large hand on your knee, and you’re met with a familiar mischievous grin on Stan’s still-green face. “Mmm, you’re already bewitching, babe.”
That look always manages to send a pang through your gut. “Oh, stop it…”
This wasn’t exactly how you’d imagined the night ending, but don’t mind all that much if it’s headed where you think it’s headed.
“‘M serious,” Stan chuckles. “Yer right about The Bride too… never appreciated enough,” His thumb rubs a circle on the soft flesh on the inside of your knee, and you can’t help but sigh at the nice pressure.
Your stomach nearly flips when he slides to his own knees, grip moving down your calf and lifting your leg to place a playful kiss to your ankle. His name falls from your lips in a whine, equal parts warning and pleading, for exactly what you can’t decide. You’re answered nonetheless by another peck just above the previous, then another with the slightest bit of teeth that makes you gasp and prop up onto your elbows.
The sight is absolutely ridiculous -- Frankenstein’s monster himself between your legs, smiling dumbly as he nips at the neglected one before he pushes excessive fabric up and off to reveal more of your form. “Stan, we-- oh my god--”
It’s when he pulls you forward on the bed that you see it: the splotches of deep green coloring the trail Stan is continuing up your thigh with a knowing look.
You laugh at first, starting to push him away so you can properly remove your dress, but he tuts, gripping your hips instead and curling an arm around your thigh, slinging it over his shoulder with an in-character groan: "You go nowhere.
You’re torn between teasing him about the fact that he’s really roleplaying as fucking Frankenstein right now, and the shudder that rolls through you as Stan noses your center through the cotton, saying: “Mine .”
“Oh,” is all you manage to say when his mouth meets between your thighs, teasing your folds through the fabric with a brazen tongue. You let yourself go then, leaning into the anticipation as after a moment Stan tugs the garment down and off, though it catches on your foot and is left dangling there uselessly.
“You’ll be screamin’ for me, don’t you worry,” he says, breath ghosting over your core before fully tucking in.
There’s no energy left in you to scream, but the needy whimpers and moans that escape as he ushers you up towards pleasure are melodic, a siren song that urges Stan to keep delving into your cunt, to hold your thighs open with a possessive grip.
“F-fuck,” you cry, reaching down and threading your fingers through his mop of black-sprayed hair between your legs. He groans mid-lap at your clit, and you gasp as his hands join in on the ministrations, caressing and petting from your hips to your stomach.
It’s when he starts sucking that you start to really writhe, tugging roughly at his locks to push him deeper. He slurps your arousal right up, the sound mortifying yet helping thrust you closer to the fast-approaching peak.
“C’mon, honey,” Stan says, thumb maintaining a rhythm on your clit. “Come for me, darling.”
The foreign pet name does it, sending a rolling orgasm that hits you in waves, crying out Stan’s name and other sweet nothings before going limp.
After a moment he sits back, more than proud as he wipes his mouth and watches you twitch and moan through the lingering pulses.
“Wow-- what was that all about?” You manage to pant out, made curious again as Stan stands suddenly, walking over to the mirror on the far-side of the room.
“Check it out,” he says, bringing the mirror to the edge of the bed and leaning against it with a self-satisfied grin.
Sitting up, your reflection stares back at you, wide-eyed and glowing-- with a prominent mess of green smeared along your skin, practically outlining each and every touch that made you come undone. A few complete hand prints are even visible, on the backs of your knees, on your hip-- even a comically clear outline against the stark white of your covered chest.
Your face burns hot as you can’t help but laugh in disbelief, both at what you see and the unexpected thrill of it; it’s delightful, and silly, and sexy, and overall just an image you think won’t leave your head for a while.
Stan chuckles at your reaction, pleased. “S’a good look on ya-- damn near electrifyin’ , some might say.”
“Come here,” you ask, arms out to beckon him forward. He does, and you don’t miss the prominent bulge in his trousers as he walks over.
Pulling him down by his shirt, you lock him into an appreciative kiss, raking your nails across his scalp and practically pulling him on top of you to continue the makeout, bed size be damned.
Needing air, you finally break away, glancing back at the mirror to see green now decorating your mouth and cheeks. “You’d missed a spot,” you inform Stan, pointing to the new addition to your face.
He hums, ducking down to nip at your neck and clavicle, painting them just the same. “Could think of a few more spots needin’ a touch-up,” he growls, rolling his hips.
Snaking your hand into the band of his pants, Stan lets out another groan at your touch and when you say lightly into his ear:
“Looks like you could use some white with that green, hmm?”
Happy Spooky Season!! 🎃💚🎃
[Masterlist]
dividers by @strangergraphics and @firefly-graphics
#my writing#stan pines x reader#grunkle stan x reader#stanley pines x reader#stan pines#grunkle stan#stanley pines#gravity falls reader insert#gravity falls
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