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xosannie · 4 months ago

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Our Dirty Little Secret

Part 2 to my fic Dirty Little Secret, check out part 1 is you haven’t already. Thank you for reading <3

☆Genre: Smut 18+ MDNI

☆Pairing: sex worker!Mingi x fem!reader

☆Word Count: 6.9k

☆Warnings: Mingi is a bit submissive in this, unprotected sex, recording while having sex, praise, sending nudes, hand job, fwb, mention of porn (lmk if I missed anything)

☆Summary: After finding out about your best friend Mingi’s secret porn account, you grew to accept his decision in his line of work. You actually start to feel very curious about it yourself, and Mingi is more than happy to fulfill your curiosity.

☆a/n: This took so long and I don’t really like it that much but I hope you do lol :,)

—————————————————————————

You throw your head back laughing, holding your stomach after your friend said something to make you laugh. You were sitting in a small cafe, matcha in hand, while you chatted with your friend from work.

“I’m serious, it fell and spilled all over me,” he says, taking a sip of his latte.

“San, you’re such a clutz. How many times has that happened now?”

“Three,” he says quietly, and you laugh harder.

”Is Mingi coming or what?” San says, rolling his eyes at you.

"Yes, I’m sure he is.”

You hear a ping come from your phone; oh, that must be Mingi. You pick it up and open the message without a second thought, not realizing it was an image he sent.

Loser (Mingi): Should I post this? :))

(attached image)

You choke on your drink, staring at the photo of Mingi holding his hard dick in his hand. San looked at you confused, and you try to compose yourself, trying not to act like a fool in front of your coworker.

“What?” He asks.

“Um… he’s uh stuck in traffic.”

"Bro, you scared me; you’re acting like you saw something you shouldn’t have.”

You felt your ears heat up. Damn Mingi, he did this on purpose. Ever since that night at his house, he started to send you nude videos and pictures of himself; you loved it at first. But then he started doing it to tease you, sending stuff when you were at work or in times when he knew you couldn’t be alone to touch yourself. He’s a menace, that damn Mingi.

You set your drink down to text Mingi back.

You: WHAT THE HECK?!?

Loser (Mingi): what?

You: YOU KNOW IM WITH SAN RIGHT NOW, YOU CANT JUST RANDOMLY SEND ME YOUR DICK LIKE THAT!!

Loser (Mingi): Aww, you don’t like my dick anymore? :(

You internally palm your forehead. In this moment, you thank whatever god there is that you can pull off a pretty good poker face. You glance at San before looking back at your phone, thumbs dancing against the keyboard as you typed back at Mingi.

You: Shut up, where are you? Me and San are waiting.

Loser (Mingi): I’m coming. I’m coming. No need to get your panties in a twist.

You roll your eyes, setting your phone down to look back at San, who was waiting patiently to have your attention back on him.

“He’s on his way,” you huff.

“Great. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him.”

San smiles softly, showing off his dimples, and he takes another sip of his latte. You hear another ding from your phone, and you glance down at the screen in your lap.

Loser (Mingi): So you don’t like the photo? </3

You: Of course I like it. Now hurry up and get over here.

Mingi smiles down at the phone after reading your response. He turns off the car, stepping out and walking toward the door of the cafe. He can see you and San through the window; he was there the whole time watching. He just wanted to see your reaction to his teasing, that little prick.

————————————————————————

You, San, and Mingi all caught up with each other, updating one another about your lives, telling stories, and cracking jokes. It was now getting darker, the sun started to set, and the cafe became emptier. You check the time on your phone before speaking.

"Oh, they’re going to close soon. We should probably head out.”

San checks the time as well, looking down at his watch and letting out a sigh. He looked up, glancing at you and Mingi, who sat together in front of him.

“Yeah, I should probably head home now. I have to study for my upcoming exam.”

You all agree to end the night here, getting up out of your seats and picking up your trash. Mingi takes your empty cup and drapes your jacket over his shoulder.

“That’s alright, man. Good luck on your exam.”

“Thanks Mingi.”

Mingi and San shake hands, patting each other back. You pull San in for a hug, and Mingi tries to ignore the small pang of jealousy he felt when he noticed San’s arms wrapping around your waist.

"Bye, Sannie; see you next time.”

“Oh, did you need a ride back home?”

You pull away from the hug, and Mingi steps in, wrapping his arm over your shoulder.

“It’s okay, I can take her.”

San glances at the two of you, smiling softly. There was a hint of suspicion in his eyes, but he shrugged it off and waved goodbye.

“Alright, well, I’ll get going. Good night.”

You and Mingi both wish him a good night and watch him walk off. Once San was out of sight, you pulled yourself from Mingi’s hold. You look up at him with an annoyed face, causing Mingi to put his hands up in defense.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I told you to stop sending those things to me when I’m out in public.”

You playfully smack his chest, making Mingi chuckle quietly. You turn on your heels, walking out the cafe and toward Mingi’s car in the parking lot.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He follows behind you, catching up fairly easily due to his long legs. He beats you to the passenger seat, opening the car door for you. You huff, climbing in and sitting back with your arms crossed. Mingi couldn’t help the sly smirk plastered on his face as he walks around the car and climbs in the driver seat.

“Wipe that smug look off your face.”

“Or what?”

Mingi leans closer, glancing at your lips, then back at your eyes. He looked so pretty under the dim lighting. You fight every urge to smash your lips against his, but you didn’t give him that satisfactory.

Instead, you turned your head, looking out the window. Mingi frowned a bit when you didn’t give him what he wanted. He turned the car on, faint music playing quietly in the background.

“Don’t give me that treatment. You loved the photo; I know you did.”

He drove out of the parking lot, and you watched the darkened trees pass by. You scoffed at his words, not bothering to look back at his face. Obviously you liked the photo; you couldn’t stop thinking about it the whole time you were out. You caught yourself staring at Mingi a little longer than you should have, admiring his pretty lips and hands (and all the things they can do to you).

Your silence only makes Mingi smirk wider, already knowing what’s on your mind. He glanced at you for a second, then back on the road, one of his hands reached down to grip your thigh.

“Aw, don’t be mad at me, baby. I noticed how you were staring at me back at the cafe.”

Your body tensed, and the feeling of his large hand grabbing the flesh of your thigh made you feel a stir at the pit of your stomach. Of all days, why did you decide today was the day to wear a dress? He gripped your thigh, massaging it in his hand, running his fingers higher up under your dress.

“You look so pretty in this dress. It took every ounce in me not to rip it off and pound you in front of San.”

Images of Mingi’s words flashed in your head, causing your breath to grow more shallow. You subconsciously pressed your thighs together; that didn’t go unnoticed by Mingi. He let out a low chuckle, squeezing your thigh harder. God, you hated how easily he can rile you up. He knew exactly what he was doing; his ego was seriously too big for his own good.

You take his hand and guide it back to the steering wheel. Mingi cocked his brow up, feeling a sense of amusement when you play hard to get.

“Two hands on the wheel, Mingi.” You teased.

“Fine, but later tonight I’ll have two hands on you.”

After a few minutes of shooting each other glances and bantering with a bit of flirting, you finally arrive at your place. You reach for your belongings, but Mingi already grabbed them for you, your jacket and purse in his hand as he steps out of the car. You rolled your eyes at him and watched as he ran around the car to open the door for you.

“I’m perfectly capable of opening the door,” you snickered.

“Hey, let me be the gentleman I am.”

“You just want pussy.”

Mingi fights back a little; he wasn’t expecting you to say something so straightforward. He closed the door, feeling heat creep up on his cheeks. Thank God it was dark out so you couldn’t see him blush.

“That’s not...” he says quietly.

He was brought back to his senses when you walked past him. There was a sly smirk on your face; shy Mingi was always so cute; you just don’t get to see it often. Mingi catches up to you when you stop at the front door, keys jingling as you turn the lock.

You both step in, placing your belongings down and slipping off your shoes. Almost immediately, you felt Mingi’s hands on your waist, pulling you close to him. You let out a small yelp, smiling up at Mingi, who towered over your figure.

“Hey, let me breathe first. I just got home,” you chuckle.

“Can’t wait.”

He leans down to place kisses on your neck. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his eagerness, and you push him away slightly. He shoots you a small pout when you reject him, and you coo internally at his expression, reaching up to pinch his cheek.

“Down boy,” you joke.

Mingi reluctantly pulls his arms off you with a huff. He walks over to the couch and plops down on it, sulking like a puppy who just got scolded. You laugh at his behavior, walking to him and cupping his jaw.

“I’m going to go shower, then you can have all my attention.”

His head perks up at your words, and a smirk widens on his face.

“Can I join?”

“No Mingi. Just be good and wait okay.”

His body slumps at your words. A strange feeling crashed over him when you told him to be good; he had no choice but to give in.

“Don’t keep me waiting too long then.”

“I’ll be quick; don’t worry.”

You ruffle his hair before walking away, swaying your hips more than usual. Mingi watched you intently, admiring your figure. Once you were out of sight, he let out a sigh, falling back on the couch.

“Damn tease,” he whispered to himself.

He picked up his phone in an attempt to find some kind of entertainment. He opened the Twitter app and was immediately met with porn videos. He forgot to switch back to his regular account again; he really needed to get out of that habit. He looked through his DM's and noticed an unopened message from the buyer of the video you helped Mingi film. He smiled at the message after reading it.

“This was hotttt😍 correct me if I’m wrong, but it looks like someone helped you film this?? If that’s the case, I think you should film more with them; I’m sure others would love to see it (I know I will).💋”

Film more with them? Mingi likes the sound of that. He’s always fantasized about recording you while you both fucked, maybe even posting it if you allowed it. But he was always too nervous to ask, afraid that might scare you away.

After a few minutes, you finally get out of the shower. When you walked back in the living room now wearing sleep shorts and a black spaghetti strap top, Mingi (unashamedly) checked you out. He couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face when he saw you.

“I’m back, did you miss me?”

“Yes, very much,” he says without taking his eyes off your hips.

You walk past Mingi, sitting on the couch next to him while his eyes stayed glued to you the whole time. You kick your feet up on the couch, getting comfortable and trying to ignore Mingi’s hard gaze. You reach forward to grab the remote and turn the TV on.

“You know you never answered my question from earlier,” Mingi said.

“What question?”

“If I should post the picture or not.”

You think back at the nude. Mingi sent you when you were out with San. You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of your chest.

“Oh my bad for not answering when you sent me a dick picture in public.”

Mingi smiled, feeling pleased with himself. He leans back, hands resting behind his head.

“You’re not giving me feedback.”

You roll your eyes at him, fighting back a smile. God, you wanted to shove him down on the couch and sit on his face; that way he wouldn’t be able to give you that smug look.

"Yes, post it. it’s really hot.”

You turn back to the TV, scrolling through to pick something to watch. Mingi’s smirk widens; he looks down at you, admiring your pretty thighs.

“Hot? Did it turn you on?”

He reached down, grazing the soft, supple skin. You allowed Mingi to touch you, still scrolling the TV and failing to find something to watch. You give up, setting the remote down and turning to Mingi.

“What are you going to do if I say yes?”

He leans in closer, hiding his face in your neck as he takes in your scent. He always loved the smell of your body wash; it drove him crazy. He grazed his teeth against your earlobe, sucking it gently.

“Whatever you want me to do,” he whispers.

You giggle softly, pulling his face up to place a soft kiss on his lips. Ever since you and Mingi slept together that one night, you both have been thirsty for each other every second of the day. Don’t get it twisted, you were the same friends you were before… just friends that flirt...and kiss... and fuck. (That’s normal though, right? Haha…)

You told yourself you wouldn’t think much of it and just go with the flow. You and Mingi both kind of agreed to do that. Neither of you wanted to possibly make each other uncomfortable, so you guys just let things happen without looking into it too deeply.

Mingi hummed in the kiss, moving his hand up to grip your waist. He pulls you closer, the kiss deepening and becoming more passionate. You push him away when you feel Mingi try to pull you on his lap, leaving him wanting more. His eyes flutter open, letting out a small sigh.

“So how is your porn stuff going?”

You stay close to Mingi, resting your head on your hand while studying his features. Mingi leans back on the couch, though his hands never leave your body. He pushed his hair back, trying to control the rapid beating of his heart before speaking.

“It’s pretty good. Honestly, I’ve been getting more recognition recently.”

“Oh yeah? That’s great.”

You gently nudge Mingi’s shoulder, proud to hear the good news.

“I’m not surprised; your videos are so hot, and I’m not just saying that because I’m your friend.”

Mingi smirked at your words, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and playing with a lock of your hair.

“Yeah? Which video have you been touching yourself too?”

You shoot him a playful glare, making Mingi laugh to himself.

“Don’t make me take back my compliment.”

“I’m just messing with you. I hope you know your opinion is very valid to me.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. You fiddle with the necklace resting around Mingi’s neck before replying.

“I really like the video of you humping the pillow.”

Mingi bites his lip; the thought of you touching yourself to his videos makes his stomach churn. He honestly fantasizes about it a lot; he always comes the fastest when thinking about it.

“Really? Well, I’ll make sure to film more of those.”

You roll your eyes, leaning closer and resting your head on Mingi’s shoulder. He runs his fingers through your hair, pushing the strands behind your ear.

“Do other people hit you up asking to “collaborate” or whatever? I don’t know what you call it.”

Mingi chuckles, shaking his head.

“I mean, yeah, there are a few mutuals of mine who DM me. But I don’t like the thought of fucking just anyone. I don’t care if other people do it because it is for work, but I don’t know... I prefer to do it with people I care about. Like you.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words. A strange wave of relief courses through your body at his response. You decide to brush off the feeling, looking up at Mingi and poking his chest.

"Awww, you care about me.”

“Of course I do you idiot.”

Mingi smiles, resting his cheek on top of your head. You hum, feeling a sense of warmth at his actions and mindlessly drawing shapes on his chest. Mingi suddenly remembered something he wanted to show you, then pulls away a bit as he speaks up.

“Oh, look at this message I got.”

He pulls out his phone, showing you the message from the buyer. You smile, raising your brows while reading it.

“Film more with me? What an interesting request.”

"Yeah, right,” he chuckled nervously.

“I’m glad they liked it. I’ve watched the video myself, and it was so hot. Even though I’m the one in it, it’s hot knowing that you’re holding the camera.”

He shoved his phone back in his pocket after you handed it to him. You weren’t going to lie; you have previously thought about what it would be like to be in one of Mingi’s videos. Of course you never mentioned it to him; you were just nervous. But the more you scrolled through Mingi’s and other people’s accounts, your curiosity grew stronger. Maybe this was a sign?

Mingi noticed the way you started to get lost in thought. He leaned down, curiously trying to meet your gaze.

“What are you thinking about?”

You snapped your attention back at Mingi. You stared into his brown eyes; in this moment, you decided to speak up. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Just thinking… I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.”

Mingi raised his brows, his eyes widening a bit. He shifted in his seat, moving his body to fully face yours.

“Wait really? Like, you want to film with me?”

Mingi felt his heart racing in his chest, and you smiled at how excited he looked. If he had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy right now. You nod your head, placing your hand on top of Mingi’s.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t mind. It sounds… fun.”

Mingi breaks into a huge smile, pulling you in for a hug. You laugh at his reaction; he’s acting as if he won a prize. But to Mingi, that’s exactly what it felt like.

“Okay! When? Where? What do you want to do?”

“Mingi, calm.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his reaction. He shut his mouth in a closed lip smile, showing off his cute dimples. You couldn’t help yourself when you reached up to poke his cheek.

“We can do it whenever. Today even, if you don’t mind.”

"Oh, I don’t mind at all.”

You felt a strange wave of relief wash over your body. You didn’t notice how anxious you were feeling till you heard Mingi’s encouragement. He stands up off the couch, reaching his hand out for you to grab. You looked at him with a questioning expression, warily taking his hand in yours.

“What are you doing?”

He pulled you up off the couch, leading you through the house.

“We’re going to your room.”

He smiles wide, prancing through the hall and into your bedroom. You shake your head at him, finding his excitement endearing. He pushed the door open, leading you in and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

He looked up at you, eyes sparking with eagerness. You step in between his legs, running your hand through his hair. You feel Mingi wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

“Someone is eager,” you tease.

“You can’t blame me; do you know how many times I’ve fantasized about fucking you for content?”

You cock your head to the side, cupping his jaw and holding his face still. The act was weirdly dominant, Mingi likey. You raise a brow to give him a questioning glance.

“Just for content?”

Mingi’s breath hitched at your change of tone, his mouth opening and closing like a fish trying to find words.

“Well, of course, not just for content. What I meant was... you know what I mean,” he whined.

You giggle, leaning down to kiss his lips.

“I’m just messing with you, Mingi.”

He felt his heart swell at your soft touch. He couldn’t help but get lost in your eyes; you just looked so pretty. He wanted you to keep kissing him; he needed to taste more of your lips.

“Alright, I think you’ve been waiting long enough. Let’s get started.” You chimed.

Mingi nods eagerly, smirking wide.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He pulls you down, causing you to let out a surprise squeal, then giggle as you settle yourself on his lap. You straddle his thighs, wrapping your arms around his neck as he smashes his lips on yours. You both kiss each other hungrily, his hands on your waist as you grip at his hair.

You hear him groan in the kiss when you pull at the strands; god, you loved that sound. You couldn’t help yourself when you did it again, only harder this time. Mingi let out a moan, the sound shooting straight to your core.

You pulled his shirt, tugging the hem as a silent way of saying you wanted it off. Mingi chuckled at your actions, knowing exactly what you wanted. He pulled away for a second so he could pull his shirt off in one swift motion.

With no time to waste, he was back on you, pressing hot kisses down your neck. You let out a sigh, basking in the feeling of his lips, and guided your hands down his bare chest. He continued to lick and suck at your skin, making you let out small moans.

“Baby, let’s lay down on the bed,” you breathed out.

Mingi nodded, reluctantly pulling himself off you and giving you one last kiss on the lips. Mingi moved up on the bed, and you followed closely behind. Crawling back on top of his body, smiling prettily down at him. His hands instinctively rest on your waist when you straddle him.

“Can I have your phone?”

“Yeah, yes,” he breathed out.

Mingi pulled his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you. You grabbed it, leaning down to kiss his lips. He entangled his hand in your hair, moaning softly when you trailed kisses down his neck. You looked up at him through your lashes when you moved further down. You pressed warm kisses down his bare chest to his stomach, slowly licking back up.

“Fuck, I need you so bad,” he moaned breathlessly.

You chuckled, sitting up and pulling at the buckle of his pants.

“You’ll have me, baby, don’t worry.”

Mingi’s hands fumbled to help you unbuckle his pants. He pulls them down for you and throws them on the floor. You turn on his phone, opening the camera app.

“Mmm, look at you,” you say.

Mingi lay there, breath-grown, labored, and dick hard in his boxers. You can see a slight wet patch on the front. Holy fuck, you were going to devour this man.

Mingi’s dick twitched in his boxer briefs when he saw you point the camera at him. He heard the ding on the phone, your eyes fixated on Mingi’s pretty body through the screen. You reached down, your finger lightly grazing the bulge in his underwear. Mingi’s hips buck up slightly, and shiver runs down his spine.

“Look at you, such a pretty boy.”

Your voice took a tone Mingi never really heard before. It was soft yet dark; he wanted to hear more. He chuckles softly at your words, feeling a wave of desire crash over him at your praise. You run your hand up his body, making sure everything was in frame.

“I’m pretty?” Mingi asks in a dark, seductive tone.

You nod, humming in agreement. You slowly trace your finger down his torso, almost as though you were teasing both Mingi and the viewer. You hook your finger on the waistband of his boxers, tugging it at an agonizingly slow pace.

Mingi huffed at your teasing hands. He knew you were putting on a show for the video, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit impatient. You felt him squirm slightly and chuckled at his behavior.

“Needy aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Mingi says softly, with a hint of a whine.

The sound shot straight to your core, turning the ache in your pants into a throb. God, you needed to hear Mingi whine; you needed to hear him beg. Finally, you pulled the underwear all the way down; his hard length springs up. You giggle softly, cooing at the sight.

You don’t know what came over you, but you couldn’t help but want to tease Mingi. Although Mingi didn’t seem to mind much. His dick twitch at your condescending tone, making his face flush in embarrassment.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you.”

You grasp his length, letting a wad of spit fall down onto the tip. Slowly, you envelope his dick in your hand, pumping him up and down. Mingi moans softly, watching the way you held the phone close to your face as you recorded yourself jerking him off. The whole scene was so hot, Mingi couldn’t help but feel turned on by the thought of you recording him in such a vulnerable state.

The wet noises of your hand moving up and down on his dick filled the room. You moved your hand faster, watching Mingi’s expression this time. He was already looking at you, and you smiled at him. He whimpered when you locked eyes, his brows furrowing as a small pout threatened to grow on his lips.

He reached down to grip your thigh, needing to feel you in any way he could. Subconsciously, Mingi started to slowly buck his hand up into your fist. You hum at the sight, biting your lip.

“You’re such a needy boy. You want more?”

“Yes,” Mingi whimpered.

“Yes what?”

Mingi threw his head back against the pillow, shutting his eyes closed as he felt his face grow hot. He knew what you were asking from him, but he was too shy to say it. You gripped his length tighter, stopping the movement of your hand.

Mingi whimpers loudly at the pain, body jerking and dick twitching with pleasure.

“Yes, what?” You asked again, this time in a darker tone.

“Yes please. Please, I need more,” he whined, covering his face in embarrassment.

You smiled wide at him, loosening the grip on his cock and jerking him faster.

“That’s a good boy.”

Mingi moans at your praise, hips bucking up faster than before and dick twitching excitedly. You watched, feeling slightly surprised by his reaction.

“Oh? Does the big boy like to get praised?”

“Yesss,” Mingi whines.

He gripped your thigh harder, continuing to fuck up into your hand. It was all so embarrassing yet so hot to him. Having you toy with him while you recorded. He felt like he was under your control, and fuck he loved it more than he ever thought he would.

“Thats right, baby, fuck my hand.”

You completely still the movement of your fist, encouraging Mingi to continue to thrust into your hand. He does just that, bouncing up and down on the bed as he fucked your fist. He continued to let out whimpers and whines, feeling both ashamed and aroused by how pathetic he looked.

You hummed in delight, making sure you got the best angle of Mingi fucking himself. You moaned softly when you saw a drip of pre-cum ooze out the tip. You pulled your hand off, making Mingi whine desperately, his hips still fucking the air looking for friction.

You giggle softly, watching the way his dick bounced pathetically. Your fingers find their way on his slit, pulling away and watching a string of pre-cum connect to your finger and his tip.

“So wet, baby.”

You move the camera closer to his length, showing off the pretty cum dripping down his cock.

“It’s all for you,” he says quietly.

That was your breaking point. You needed Mingi; you couldn’t wait any longer. Your pussy throbbed so much, and you felt your slick stick to the fabric of your shorts. You stopped the recording, setting the phone on the mattress and leaning down to kiss Mingi. He pushed away slightly, looking at you confused.

“Why’d you stop recording?” He breathed out.

“I can’t take it. I need to fuck you, Mingi.”

Mingi whimpered, pulling you down by the nape of your neck to smash your lips together. Your tongues danced against each other, yours exploring his mouth as he lay limp and let you use him however you like.

“Oh god, yes, please do,” he whined.

You chuckled, pulling away to rip your shirt off. Your beautiful breast was on display for Mingi; he was mesmerized by the sight. He reached up and squeezed them; you smiled at the way his large palms enveloped your breast.

“You’re so sexy.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his words. Mingi smiled up at you, finding your giggling cute. His hands roam down your body, sliding over your waist to your hips. You felt his large hands grip your ass through your shorts, making you bite your lip in anticipation.

“Take them off for me, Mingi.”

Mingi smirks wide, wordlessly pulling your shorts off and down your legs. He moans softly at the sight of you; you had no underwear on, which left you completely naked sitting on top of Mingi.

"God, I need to be inside you, baby. I can’t wait any longer.”

You completely sit down on him, your warm, wet pussy pressed against the underside of his cock. Mingi furrows his brows and grips your hips tightly. You began to rock your hips back and forth, your wetness leaving a glistening trail on Mingi, and he moans softly.

"Why are you teasing me?” he whine.

You giggle, enjoying the feeling of your swollen clit rubbing against the head of his cock. You couldn’t help but smile at him mischievously; your hands rested on his pecks, and you grabbed the flesh beneath your palms.

“You just look so cute... whining for me,” you say breathlessly.

Mingi pushes his head back against the pillow; he was so turned on he needed to feel you already. You glance at Mingi’s phone laying on the bed beside him. He followed your gaze and smirked; he knew exactly what you wanted. He picked it up, opened the camera app, and pressed record.

You lifted your hips a bit, taking his hard length and aligning it with your sopping hole. Mingi watched through the phone, moaning loudly when you sunk down on his cock. Your hands rested on his stomach, clawing at the skin beneath.

“Fuckkk,” he moans.

You moan breathlessly, moving your hips up and down slowly. You already felt your legs start to tremble at the feeling of Mingi filling you up.

“You fill me up perfectly, baby. Show them how pretty your dick looks sliding inside me.”

Mingi groans at your words, moving the camera closer to you pussy sucking up Mingi’s dick effortlessly. You kept a slow, steady pace; you were so wet you could hear the squelching noises coming from your pussy. Mingi bites his lip, pulling the camera away to show off your pretty body while grabbing your hip with his free hand.

“Baby,” you said breathlessly.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me.”

Mingi moans at your words, you didn’t have to tell him twice. He planted his feet flat on the bed and thrust up into you at a fast pace. You let out a yelp as intense pleasure coursed through your entire body. Skin slapping against skin as Mingi bucked up into your pussy, he was mesmerized by the way your thighs jiggled when coming contact to his pelvis.

He held the phone in his hand tighter, groaning loudly as he fucked into you. You couldn’t help the high-pitched moans that escaped your lips; you were in pure ecstasy. And based on the way Mingi’s eyes were glued to your face, brows furrowing, and mouth agape, you could tell he felt the same way.

“Fuck…so good. Your pussy is so good.”

You moan at his praise, looking down at the phone that was pointed toward you. You felt so vulnerable, and the thought that other people will be watching this video, jacking off to Mingi fucking you, drove you crazy.

Mingi’s hips stopped when the burn in his abdomen became too much to bear and he panted heavily trying to catch his breath. You decided to give Mingi some time to rest and reached behind you. You planted your hands on Mingi’s thighs and lifted your knees up till your feet rested on the mattress.

“You did so good. I’m gonna fuck you now, okay, baby.”

Mingi whined when he watched you change positions and nodded eagerly.

“Okay.”

With the new position you put yourself in, your pussy was on full display for Mingi and the camera. You rocked your hips up and down, your tits bouncing with your movements. Mingi moans louder, watching intently at the way his dick disappeared in your hole. He was trying so hard not to drop the phone in his hand, wanting to capture this moment forever.

With the new view, Mingi found himself getting closer to his release. Watching you bounce on his cock was just too intoxicating.

“I’m close, baby.”

“Just a little longer, okay? I’m almost there.”

Mingi’s hand gripped tightly to your thigh, sliding up till his thumb pressed against your clit. You whined at the feeling, legs trembling when he rubbed circles on the sensitive nub.

“Yes yes. Keep doing that, baby. Fuck, I’m close.”

“Cum on my cock, please. I need it.”

Your nails dug into Mingi’s thighs, legs almost giving out when you came on his dick. You clenched so hard around him as your hips stuttered. Mingi’s eyes rolled in the back of his head as he tried with all his might not to cum inside. Now that's a good boy.

You pulled off him, his dick slipping out and hot streams of cum shot out to cover his stomach. You watched with a sly smirk, reaching down to jerk him off.

“Fuck!”

Mingi’s body trembled from his intense orgasm, some even landing on his chest and neck. You giggle, and when you notice him coming down from his high, you slow the pace of your hand, not wanting to overstimulate him. You grab the phone from him (surprised he didn’t drop it at this point) and point the camera closer to his cum-covered body.

"Mmm, you see that. What a messy boy.”

You both pant heavily. Mingi chuckled breathlessly at your words, looking down at his body. You stopped the recording, setting the phone down on the bed. You both smiled at each other, Mingi reaching up to cup your face.

“Can’t wait to watch that later,” you smirk.

Mingi rolls his eyes, laughing breathlessly. He pulled you closer and pressed a soft kiss on your nose. You rested your elbows on either side of his head while staring into his pretty brown eyes.

“That was so fucking hot. I didn’t know I was the submissive type, but damn, we need to explore that more.”

You laugh heartily, kissing Mingi’s cheek before speaking.

"Yes, we do. I swear I almost started running laps whenever you begged for me.”

“I folded when you called me a good boy.”

You and Mingi couldn’t help the funny comments. Maybe it was weird that you were cracking jokes after getting dicked down by your best friend, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. You pull away, sighing and looking down at the cum that smeared on your body.

“Now I have to take another shower.”

Mingi laughs at your words, running his hands up and down your sides. He looks up at you with pleading eyes before asking in a hopeful tone.

“Can I join you this time?”

You decide to throw him a bone, smiling down at him and nodding.

“Yes Mingi. Come on.”

Mingi exclaimed in excitement, picking you up effortlessly and taking you to the bathroom. You squeal when he throws you over his shoulder, and you smack the small of his back.

“Hey, warning next time you decide to manhandle me.”

“No time, must take you to the shower.”

“How do you still have this much energy after what we did?”

————————————————————————

“Ugh, dammit.”

You lean back in your chair when you see the red letter pop up on your computer screen.

‘You died’

“Why is this level so hard?”

Your mumble to yourself. You hear your phone notification go off and light up next to your keyboard. You pick it up and smile to see a message from Mingi.

Princess Mingi: HELLO!? LOOK AT HOW MANY LIKES OUR VIDEO HAS

(attached image)

Your eyes bulge out of your head after seeing the screenshot Mingi sent you.

You: 72k?!? WHAT??

Princess Mingi: This is literally my most liked video. People love you, they think you're hot and want to know if you have an account.

You couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride at the thought of people wanting to see more of you. Maybe you should dabble into this kind of work. You were pulled out of your thoughts when another ping rang from your phone.

Princess Mingi: You should say fuck it and join the sex work community. I think you will do very well.

Princess Mingi: I’ll be your first subscriber ;)

You: I’ll block you before you can find my account

Princess Mingi: Hey :( you wouldn’t do that to your good boy, would you? :(((

You: Yes.

You giggle to yourself after teasing Mingi. It was just so fun. He sent another message, and your giggles immediately die down when you see the image.

Princess Mingi: (attached image)

What about now? :)

You: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT SENDING ME YOUR DICK

Princess Mingi: YOU SAID NOT TO DO IT WHEN YOURE IN PUBLIC. I KNOW YOURE NOT

You: WELL NOW IM HORNY AND ALL ALONE

Mingi doesn’t reply back and you see the little ‘read’ text under your message. You furrow your brow in confusion, that bitch, leaving you on read. You set you phone down and turn your attention back to your game on the screen.

After a few minutes, Mingi never replied back. Thats weird. You decide to text him again, he never leaves you on read.

You: Hey, are you alive?

You were surprised when you saw the three dots appear pretty quickly.

Princess Mingi: I’m here. Open your door :)

You stare blankly at the phone screen, sitting there dumbfounded. You’re brought back to reality when you hear a honk outside your house. You peak through your window and see Mingi walking out the car and up to your front door. That little shit.

You: No, stay outside and freeze.

Princess Mingi: Please let me in :(

You: Why should I?

Princess Mingi: So I can fuck you good again :)

You dropped your phone and ran to the front door. Well, it was too cold for him to stay out there all alone.

————————————————————————

You bite your lip while holding your phone in your hand.

"Ugh, fuck it.”

You posted your first nude photo; it was a simple mirror picture of you were in your underwear sitting on your bed topless. You throw your phone on the mattress, feeling nervous yet excited at the same time. You finally did it, you made your own Twitter account.

After looking at the video you and Mingi recorded for his account, you decided to give in and give the people what they wanted. After a few minutes of pacing around, you pick up your phone to check if anyone has liked your photo yet. You already started getting some likes and a few comments.

You get a notification and press on it immediately.

‘Sir Min started following you’

You smile to yourself when you read the notification. Of course, Mingi was the first to follow you. You had already told him you were doing it, but you didn’t take into account that he was waiting for you to make your first post this whole time. You get a DM from Mingi, smirking to yourself when reading it.

Sir Min: You look hot, baby. Can’t wait to fuck you more “for content” ;)

Tags: @chicksmoothie @wisejudgedragonhairdo @autieofthevalley @breadpuddingboys @pancake-freckle @nanicjj @yunhofingers @cherr-heekisses

#ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez fanfic #ateez #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #smut #ateez fic #mingi x reader #mingi #song mingi #mingi smut #song mingi smut #ateez mingi #ateez hard thoughts #ateez hard hours

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reidsworld · 5 months ago

Text

Unveiled Secrets

Summary: The BAU team has a sneaking suspicion that their stoic leader, Aaron Hotchner, is in a relationship, but they don't know the extent of it.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Jack and Haley do not exist in this, kissing, cuddling, allusions to sex, light teasing, use of Y/N, pet names (my love, baby), that’s it I think, lmk if I missed any! Oh and pure fluff!

Word Count: 1.8k

Mars speaks… hi my loves, I was motivated to write so I am using this to figure out my writing style a bit and how I want to format my works! I’ve been going through a bit of a Hotch phase lately so I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Masterlist

The BAU office was slowly quieting down as the day turned to dusk, the last rays of sunlight casting long shadows across the desks. Aaron Hotchner, head of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, stood in his office, the soft light of his desk lamp highlighting the stress lines that had deepened over the years. He checked his watch—almost time to go home. A rare, soft smile touched his lips, a sight reserved for only one person.

He closed the case file on his desk, slipping it neatly into his briefcase before reaching for his jacket. His phone buzzed just as he picked it up, and he glanced at the screen to see a text from you, Can’t wait to see you. Should I pick up dinner?

That smile of his deepened as he quickly typed a reply, I’ll pick it up on my way home. See you soon, my love.

He hadn’t planned on keeping his relationship with you a secret, nor did he have any grand strategy for revealing it. He assumed that given time, his team would figure it out on their own. After all, they were profilers—eventually, they would notice the subtle shifts in his behaviour, the unexplained absences, the slightly more relaxed demeanour after particularly stressful cases. He hadn’t intended to hide it forever, just until they pieced it together.

As he opened the door to his office, however, he nearly collided with Spencer Reid, who was walking by, engrossed in a file. Reid looked up, startled, his eyes wide with surprise.

"Sorry, Hotch! I didn’t see you there."

"It’s alright, Reid," Hotch replied, a calmness in his voice that belied the momentary flicker of surprise in his eyes. He wasn’t often caught off-guard, especially not in the safety of his own office.

Reid, however, had a habit of noticing things others missed. His eyes flickered to the phone still in Hotch’s hand, the screen just dimming from inactivity. Before Hotch could slip it into his pocket, Reid’s sharp eyes caught your name on the screen. His brow furrowed in confusion as he processed the information.

“Y/N, as in the academy’s Y/N?” Reid asked, the question out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough for Reid’s sharp mind to pick up on the anomaly. Reid’s brain worked at lightning speed, connecting dots that others might have missed. He knew Hotch was fiercely private, but this reaction was new.

“Goodnight Reid” Aaron replied, quickly, shutting down any further questioning that may have come from the young genius.

Reid blinked, taken aback, but his curiosity was now piqued. However, years of working with Hotch had taught him when to push and when to back off. “Have a good evening, Hotch.”

As Reid walked away, Hotch let out a slow breath. This wasn’t how he wanted the team to find out, though he couldn’t say he was surprised. He had always assumed it would be Reid who would notice first; the young profiler missed nothing. Still, he had hoped for a bit more time. But the cat was out of the bag now, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the rest of the team found out.

The next morning, the BAU office was abuzz with more than the usual activity. Reid’s brief encounter with Hotch had set off a flurry of curiosity and speculation among the team. They were profilers, after all, and even the smallest clues could ignite their imaginations.

“I’m telling you, something’s definitely going on with Hotch,” Reid said as the team gathered in the bullpen before their morning briefing. He couldn't shake the image of your name on Hotch's phone from his mind.

JJ, trying to keep things under control, said, “Come on, guys, it could just be a friend. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

Morgan leaned back in his chair, a knowing grin on his face. “Reid’s onto something. Hotch has been acting a bit differently lately. He’s not staying late like he used to.”

“And he’s been smiling more often,” Garcia added, her excitement barely contained. “The man’s practically glowing sometimes.”

Rossi, with a teasing tone, suggested, “Maybe he’s just getting better sleep. But I have to admit, there’s definitely something different.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Don’t you want to know? If Hotch is seeing someone, that’s huge!”

Rossi shrugged, still smirking. “Of course, I’m curious. But let’s give him some space. If he wants us to know, he’ll tell us. And if we’re lucky, we might even get to meet her.”

Prentiss grinned, "Do you think it’s serious? Like, she’s ‘the one’?”

“I think,” Rossi said thoughtfully, “if Aaron is keeping this under wraps, it’s because it’s important to him. He wouldn’t be so secretive if it wasn’t serious.”

Just then, Hotch entered the bullpen, and the conversation quickly shifted to a quieter, more focused buzz. The team members turned to their desks, but the air was charged with unspoken questions and speculative glances. Hotch, sensing the change in atmosphere, gave a brief nod before heading to his office.

As the day dragged on with paperwork and case briefings, the undercurrent of curiosity remained. The team exchanged looks, clearly eager to discuss Hotch’s secret, but they were careful to avoid bringing it up directly. The excitement about Hotch’s personal life was palpable, and everyone was waiting for the right moment to address the topic.

Later that evening, Aaron finally headed home after a long day. As he walked through the front door, he found you curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs, and a glass of wine in your hand. You looked up from the book you were reading, a smile spreading across your face when you saw him.

“Hi, baby, how was your day?” you asked, setting the book aside as he walked over to you.

“Tiring,” he admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And eventful. Reid saw a text from you last night.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Oh no. What did he say?”

“He asked if it was from you,” Aaron said, sitting down beside you. “I shut him down, but I think I gave myself away. The team’s been acting strange all day.”

You chuckled, leaning your head on his shoulder. “So, they’re onto us?”

He nodded, slipping an arm around you and pulling you closer. “It was bound to happen eventually. I just didn’t expect it to be now.”

“I’m surprised they didn’t figure it out sooner,” you said, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. “They are profilers, after all.”

He smiled down at you, his expression softening. “I never planned on keeping it a secret forever. I just figured they’d figure it out on their own time.”

“So, what’s the plan?” you asked with a playful grin.

He sighed, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your shoulder. “I suppose it’s time to tell them. They’re already curious, and I’d rather they hear it from me than through rumours.”

“You know they’ll be happy for you,” you said, squeezing his hand. “For us.”

“I know,” he agreed. “But there’s a part of me that’s nervous. I’ve always kept my personal life separate from work, but with you… it’s different.”

You leaned up and kissed him softly, the warmth of the moment lingering between you. “We’ll do it together, then. When you’re ready.”

Aaron’s gaze softened, but a playful glint sparkled in his eyes as he pulled you closer. “Right now, I want to do anything but think about the team,” his voice dropped to a low murmur.

You felt the heat of his words and smiled, leaning in closer. “Sounds perfect,” you whispered, as he nuzzled against you, his lips brushing yours with a grin.

A few days later, Rossi had decided to host a dinner party for the team. The team was eager to catch up and enjoy the evening. Aaron knew it was the perfect opportunity to introduce you to the team as his girlfriend.

As the doorbell rang, Rossi answered the door to find Hotch standing beside you. As you both entered the living room, the atmosphere in the room shifted instantly as Hotch introduced you with a genuine smile.

“I’d like you to meet Y/N, my girlfriend,” Hotch said, his voice steady but warm.

The room fell into a stunned silence before erupting into excitement. Garcia’s face lit up with recognition and delight. “Oh my God! It’s Y/N! I knew it was someone! This is incredible!”

Morgan’s grin widened as he approached. “So, this is the elusive woman behind Hotch’s new smile! You’ve been keeping us in the dark for too long, Hotch.”

JJ smiled warmly as she extended her hand. “It’s wonderful to finally meet you, Y/N, we’re really happy for both of you.”

Reid, ever the profiler, couldn’t resist asking, “How long have you two been together?”

Hotch laughed softly, putting an arm around you and smiling fondly. “Almost five months now. Y/N works as the unit chief for the BSU in the academy. I met her when she invited me to guest lecture.”

Garcia’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “I knew it! You two have that perfect power couple vibe. We have to plan another get-together so we can hang out more!”

Rossi, enjoying the moment, gave Hotch a friendly pat on the back. “Well, I guess this means you won’t be around for poker nights as often.”

Hotch chuckled. “I’ll still make time for poker nights, don’t worry.”

As the evening continued, the team enjoyed getting to know you better. The atmosphere was filled with laughter, light-hearted teasing, and genuine happiness for Hotch and you.

“So, when do we get to do this again?” Garcia asked eagerly.

Hotch smiled, feeling content. “Soon. We’ve been talking about having you all over for dinner. Now seems like the perfect time.”

As the team chatted and enjoyed the evening, Aaron felt a weight lift off his shoulders. Introducing you to his team had been a significant step, but their warmth and support made it all worthwhile. The thought of merging his work family with his personal life filled him with quiet joy.

As the party wound down and the team began to leave, Morgan gave Hotch a sly grin. “You know, Hotch, we’re happy for you, but don’t think we won’t give you a hard time about keeping this a secret for so long.”

Hotch chuckled, appreciating the camaraderie. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, the team said their goodbyes and headed home, their spirits high. Hotch followed them, feeling grateful for the support of his team and looking forward to the future with you.

Mars speaks... (again) Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Also, would anyone be interested if I wrote for other fandoms such as F1 and Marvel? Any feedback is greatly appreciated🫶

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mrs-weasley-reid · 5 months ago

Text

MADE HIS MARK

Spencer Reid x bau!reader

Synopsis: a shivery trip to a liquor cellar turned into a steamy secret between friends and a not-so-subtle reveal between a small herd of colleagues. Word Count: 5k+ WARNING: SMUT. please, please, MDNI !!! penetration (piv). unprotected sex (but fr wrap it up!!!). fingering (a lil bit). obsessed!spencer (bc why not?). ex friends with benefits to lovers. a pinch of angst if you squint. cursing. troublemaker spencer reid and reader. not proofread!! A/N: heavily influenced by the song Dress by Taylor Swift. I love me a TS song. I'm obsessed, and I saw the opportunity. Also, this is my first Spencer Reid smut fic. Be nice, and tell me what you think!

The sharp brush of spring and little kisses from the evening air prompt you to savor the shivery feeling on your skin.

You take a deep breath before sliding your heels off, dangling them in your hand as you trail down the maze of a hallway in Rossi’s lavish home. Your dress is now a product of a shoddy decision.

All you knew was how presentable and wedding-appropriate it was, but you never realized why you would wear such a dress barely sewn for the crisp evening weather in May.

“Hiding from everyone?”

A smile instantly layers over your painted lips before you can even raise your gaze ahead. There’s this tickle of warmth that sparks inside of you the moment you hear his voice. Hands shaking in an intense subconscious buzz of excitement. Thrilling.

No other than Dr. Spencer Reid is ten feet away from you, standing lazily against the wall. His hair is messy from all the magic tricks he tore out to Jack and Henry and, funnily enough, Penelope, too.

Bright gleam shines on your face, flashing a saccharine smile you can only muster when the receiver is him. You shake your head.

"Are you?"

One hand in his pocket. Spencer shyly nods, “I ran out of magic tricks, and Jack figured out one of my tricks halfway through my little show.” He explains without persuasion, staring into space with playful horrid written all over his face.

You steal the half-full glass from his other hand, cringing at the taste of sparkling cider. “One sip won’t kill you, you know…” You say, shoving the glass back into his hand.

Spencer laughs, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” He quips, a sheepish smile growing with each syllable.

“Very much so,” You nod, making a beeline to the kitchen to find some kind of beverage that’ll knock you out ‘til the next day.

He follows you like a tail. Your senses feel his warmth, his breath fanning against your exposed back. The feeling of his tall presence behind leaves your breath hitching between inhales and exhales, and you’d love more than his figure on your trail. You ache for something more than the image of him in your wake. You need him merged with your soul, his body tightly pressed against yours. You crave something harsh.

It’s wishful thinking.

“What took you so long? Did you not notice I was gone?” He wonders.

Or is it?

“It’s cold out here, you know,” Spencer pouts in your peripheral.

You want your lips to wipe them off, then turn them into an O.

“Aww, does pretty boy genius feel lonely?” You tease over your shoulder, tapping his chest with the back of your hand. Your brows jump, twisting on your heels to face him. “I’ll be damned,” You exclaim, pushing your palm against his pec with more pressure.

It's been so long since you touched him with more than an accidental brush of your fingertips. His body stiffens under your light squeeze. And the thirst for more slowly dries the circumference of his throat.

“Reid, when’d you get this fit? No wonder women are all over you.” Genuine curiosity takes over, looking up at him with fluttering lashes.

Spencer scoffs, leaning down eye to eye with you, “I’ve always been hot.” He retorts with a straight face. The confidence radiates, and it does something in the pit of your stomach.

A brief silence whooshes between your bodies, and the next thing you know, both of you are laughing ‘til your cores cramp.

You gasp for air, head against his sternum, hand still placed over his pec. “Don’t ever say that in front of Morgan. He might get a stroke.” You begin walking once more, turning your back to him.

“I am! Don’t you agree?” You do. He banters a few feet away, keeping a safe distance—or so help the impulsive thoughts that are whirling around his mind. A playful grin works his facial muscles out, only hoping that you didn’t notice the way he takes in your scent like a bait set out for him.

Spencer didn’t even need to run to catch up with you. His strides are five times longer than yours.

You feel a soft fabric cover your shoulders, accompanied by a heavy arm that burns your skin in pure reflexive need. “I thought you were cold?” You ask, glancing to your left, where Spencer walks beside you.

Spencer shrugs, “Rather feeling cold than you getting a cold tomorrow morning. The chances of me getting sick from being cold tonight versus you sneezing on me like a troll is 15 to 85 percent.” He replies calmly, earning a light smack from your hand.

You roll your eyes, but your smile never travels far. It only happened once. And you both swore once was enough.

The two of you became friends during your time in the Academy. You’ll never forget the first time you met him. The urge to shove a sock inside his yapping mouth over the repercussions of shaking someone’s hand. Most people say the two of you are best friends. Somehow, his intelligence didn’t set you apart. You tolerated his constant rambles, and he tolerated your random bursts of sass.

It's more than that though. The entanglement was more than two friends. More than innocent study sessions. More than a trip to the nearest shooting range.

As two twenty-one-year-olds who's never felt the most sensual touch before, one minute of forced proximity and all hell broke loose. What seemed so platonic was sexually intimate behind closed doors.

However, in lieu of staying attached to the hip, the two of you went your separate ways after graduation. You went to pursue each respective interest. You both said no hard feelings. And both believed things would never work anyway, because no one was willing to put in the work.

The two of you reconnected when you joined the BAU team almost a year ago. Meeting him once again was nerve-wracking. With unresolved fallout and nonexistent communication, it scared you a bit. But you should’ve known Spencer Reid has always been different—good, different. The bond you had didn’t seem too damaged. If anything, it was merely locked in a vault and became stronger than ever before. You managed to be civil—become friends.

And since then, you never ran out of ways to be in each other’s vicinity. Or he just always succeeded in keeping you interested in his antics. Or you’re just addicted to him more than you’d like to admit.

But friends don't shake from mere self-control. Friends don't choke on breaths when the other touches them. Friends don't—

“What percentage of alcohol will you get from Rossi’s cellar?” He curiously asks, his warmth keeping you from shivering.

The damned dress.

And his damned loose tie.

You chuckle shakily, “You’d love to see me drunk, don’t you?” You mimic, throwing back the same antic he used not a few minutes ago. He rolls his eyes, and you open the door to the cellar. “I was tasked to choose the best whiskey ever made.” You announce, sinking deeper into confinement.

“So you lost a bet.” Spencer laughs, following behind. He shakes his head when you nod yours. “You don’t even drink whiskey.” He smirks.

“Go back out there, then,” You shoo him away, waving your hands. “I didn’t ask you to join me on my quest.” You add in a giggle, tying your hair up in a messy ponytail after setting your shoes on the table in the middle of the room.

You don’t see the way he swallows at the sight of your nape. The same way you hadn't notice his self-restraint for the past year, for the entire evening, dipping his hands in his pockets to hide his clenched fists. Because if he doesn't, they just might crave the feeling of your skin against the texture of his palm.

“And what if you can’t reach the best whiskey?”

“I’m a federal agent, too, Reid. I’m smart enough to figure that out.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re similar to a hobbit.”

The brows on your face lift over your forehead. "Excuse me?" Your mouth fall agape in disbelief, scoffing.

Spencer shrugs, "You're excused."

Amusement twitch the ends of your lips. "You sure you're not drunk?" Your eyes narrow, scanning him from head to toe.

"I'm not." He defends. Scarlet skin glows underneath the soft light. Spencer averts his eyes, stealing a mouthful of a sigh from the chilly air. Okay, maybe he stole one glass of scotch from the unit chief, took a sip, and felt his body on fire, so now he's settled down for ciders the entire evening.

You smirk, "Then, why are you being so clingy?" Arms cross over your chest. You raise a brow in question.

Spencer rolls his eyes, silently clearing his throat. "Why not? There's no harm in hanging out with you." His tongue pushes against the inside of his cheek.

"There is when said friend is acting like a clingy boyfriend." You say, skimming through the shelves of liquor adorning the walls from ceiling to floor.

“Right,” Spencer states blandly, finding himself a seat. “I’m just a friend. I can’t act any other way. I can’t even give you any affection, huh?” He deadpans, tracing the wood patterns on the table.

Your eyebrows crease in the middle of reaching for a bottle. You slowly go up behind him and smack the back of his head without warning.

“Ow!” He hisses. “What was that for?” Spencer complains, face scrunching in temporary pain.

“For being weirder than usual.” You say, hitting his shoulder. “Stop it.” You scold, finger-pointing over his chest.

Spencer is not one to be petty. Never petty over the boys you mingle with for a short period. Never be petty over your tendencies to somehow land on the worst species of men. Since the two of you reconnected as colleagues, he's minded his business. Why now? And why the hell is your heart pounding obnoxiously?

He theatrically rolls his eyes, “Am I wrong? Aren’t I just your friend?” There is something in his tone that you can't distinguish. His face is awkward and reserved, as always, but something is different.

You know. You just love lying to yourself.

“What else are you going to be?!” Even you are surprised at the volume of your voice.

The creak of the small open window fills the room. None of you dares to say a word. No one dares to breathe within each other's personal bubble.

You break eye contact first, stepping away, but Spencer has other plans. His hands land on your waist, gripping the flesh to keep you between his legs.

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself,” The luminescence of his eyes turns a shade darker. Chocolate hazel eyes gradients to deep earthy irises. Or it may have been the dim lighting in the room and the glass of wine in your system.

You swallow—roughly like a ball of sandpaper rows down your throat. Fingers lace above his textured ones, wrapping over the long digits to get their bruises off your skin.

“It’s a simple question. There’s no reason to dread it.” You almost stumble on your words, taking well-needed pauses to huff a small breath. You try to break his grip on you, but they don’t budge one bit.

The more you attempt to remove his hold, the more they tighten against the little fabric over your skin.

Your brows knit. A sigh of defeat escapes your lips as your gaze travels back to him. “Spencer, stop—” Your spine shivers when he starts to lazily move his thumbs in slow, firm strokes.

Spencer stands in silence, staring at you like you are a doe he preyed on. His eyes start to make your legs melt, and your heart races wildly.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

His gaze flickers over your lips, “Why don’t you answer the question for me? Since you’re so smart, it seems.” A tone of clear mockery spills from his lips. Spencer smirks under his signature smile—smug and utterly amused by the sound of your small, hitched breaths.

“Can you stop kidding around?” You prattle. A peel of awkward laughter shoots straight down your bones. It was all you could do to relieve the growing tension between your thighs. Or else you’d jump on him like a desperate psychopath.

"Who says I'm kidding around?" Spencer narrows his eyes. "I never kid around." He squeezes your sides once more and grins when a soft gasp rattles out of you. He hasn't done that in so long, and the nostalgia and buzz spark something in his chest.

Thick, airy gulp forces itself down your throat. You know why he does it. The same pattern of movements you knew so well in your younger days. The days you spent with him.

"We can't." It is almost inaudible, but he catches it. You lightly shake your head, backing away, "I-it's not— We can't."

Spencer raises his brows. "What are you so afraid of?" He reads your features for a moment. The gentle touch of his gaze along your searing skin is electrifying.

You nibble at the corner of your lip, "Let go of me, Reid." And it seems you love lying to him, too. Because you don't want him to let go. Desperate for his touch. The soft trail of his thumb. The primal clutch of his fingers, like they were claws. It was all too intoxicating to ever want him to let go.

“Answer the question first.” He flashes the smirk he’s been trying to hide like a villain, exposing his true colors. “I dare you.” Spencer challenges.

“You know the answer.” Your chest feels like exploding.

“Say it out loud, then.”

“Why should I?”

“Because we’re not leaving this position until you do.” His voice sparks fire in your core. Spencer doesn’t let his eyes stray from your moving lips. If anything, he makes a point that he is, in fact, staring at them like a starving lion, ready to pounce at any given moment.

Oh.

Well, isn't he such a sweetheart to feed you just what you crave? You don't know where it comes from, nor do you care, but there's at least four liquid cubic centimeters of boldness that flows through your veins.

Your laughter echoes in the cellar. “Please, or what?” You relax in his hold, convinced that he's just the same lanky guy you've always known. “You going to fuck me like a slut? Not exactly your M.O., pretty boy.” You tease, playfully tapping on his shoulders.

A low, hoarse chuckle vibrates across his chest. With lust-filled gaze and a thin, mischievous smile, Spencer shifts his eyes to look straight into yours.

“Exactly.”

Your eyes grow the widest they have ever been your entire life. “What—” Before you can stop him, his lips are already clashing against yours.

Spencer holds onto you as if he is falling off a cliff, and you are a branch about to snap any second. He kisses you aggressively, pulling you so tight, like he needs you glued to him.

You try to push him, but it doesn't take long until you give in. Until you kissed back.

You kissed him back.

You fucking kissed Spencer back.

The hands that recently danced on his shoulders begin to tug on the soft curls over his nape. The weight of his lips is starting to make your legs wobble.

Every scrape of his teeth against your stinging lips feels new. It isn't what you're familiar with. Your mind recalls his gentle touches and gentle words as if you'd break if he held you too tight. But the one kissing you isn't. The slice of his tongue over your lips is primal. He's not the Spencer you once knew. He's the Spencer you've been craving, so much so that the mere thought of bruises caused by his grip has been contaminating your mind since you started in the BAU.

His kisses deepened, warmth enveloping the two of you despite the chilly breeze inside the cellar. With breathless and plump lips, a new strike of desire courses throughout your body the longer you kiss.

Spencer breathes you in like oxygen, starving for more, never satisfied with just one gentle breath. It's new. And you love it.

Heaving, you and Spencer pull away, lips detaching and reattaching like magnets ’til distance is too far to push back. His lips are a darker shade of pink, swollen, and adorned with smeared lipstick. You don’t doubt the effect of making out with him gives you any more leverage, imagining your lipstick thickly outlines all over the rims of your mouth.

Judging by how Spencer stares at you like a satisfied drunken man, you presume he's loving every second more than he's prepared to admit. Most will wonder if his eagerness is merely a product of lost inhibitions. But a simple educated guess tells you that none of his actions are driven by alcohol. He's as sober as an ice cold water splashed over one's face.

Spencer lifts you on the table, standing between your thighs. The fabric of his pants scrapes against your skin, and your aching cunt throbs at the feeling. He cups your face into his large hands, reattaching your lips once more like it’s an unforgivable sin to keep them apart.

He pulls away after air fails him, resting his forehead over yours. “I want to be the only one who gets to fuck you like a slut, or so God help me—” Spencer closes his eyes agonizingly slow, “—No man near you will ever see daylight again.”

Your heart pounds against your chest, and you mentally beg Spencer to do so too—pound against your hips like you’re banned from ever walking again. The pressure of his voice and hot breath fanning against the land of your skin is ecstatically satisfying.

Spencer's hand drives up the slit of your dress, and at that moment, you know exactly why you chose to wear such an article of unfriendly clothing amidst your intolerance to the cold wind.

You wanted him to take it off of you.

You needed Spencer to take the dress off of you and fuck you hard.

The tickle of his lips trailing from your jaw to the spot underneath your earlobe has your back arching almost a hundred and eighty degrees. Ever the opportunist, Spencer takes it as his chance to pull you closer, squeezing your thigh with his palm.

You throw your head back, giving him access to more eager-to-be-touched skin. Legs wrap around his middle in utter pleasure, “Spencer…” You whine breathily, eyes fluttering close at the way he holds your flesh with both hunger and caress.

His mouth falls agape. Your voice. His name. It’s addicting. His world stops in a millisecond, reveling in the joy of your mouth, uttering his name with the intense pleasure he provides.

“We’re barely starting,” Spencer whispers against your clavicle, snaking his hand under your dress to the lining of your underwear. He swipes over your clothed clit.

You twitch under his touch. A total puppet wrapped around his finger while his literal thumb begins to toy with your clit. The pace makes you painfully and deliciously squirm.

Spencer loves the image before him, especially the rise of your chest as he plunges a finger, then two, inside your needy cunt. It’s the first time he’s ever heard your moans so... needy and begging and desperate and sweet and hot and something he knows you’ve never reached the volume before with other men, and he’s hooked—addicted.

“You have no idea what your dress did to me the whole night.” He muffles on your neck. Wet kisses echo at the touch of his lips. Spencer buries himself in your scent, one hand unzipping your dress. “No idea how much I wanted to take it off of you.” He whispers next to your ear.

A hum spills at the ring of his words. His kisses start to sting, and burning hues form on your skin. Spencer marks you with his tongue and teeth.

It's euphoric. His hunger. His need. And you want nothing else but to give him whatever he wants, the same way he gives you everything you need.

The sound of his fly distorting in the air makes your skin tingle, nipples perk, and cunt quiver. You whine when he pulls away, already missing his heat.

Spencer’s eyes soften, “Are you sure you want this to continue? When we were friends with benefits things didn't work—”

“Shut up, take my dress off, and fuck me, Spencer.” You heave, or beg, or whichever fits the way you eagerly undo his tie and unbutton his shirt while kissing the soft spot on his neck, marking him yours.

The vibration of his chuckles sent delicious throbs down to your cunt, drooling to be filled by him.

“Aren't you needy—” Spencer lifts his arms in defense, “—alright, shutting up now.”

The cold is nowhere else but the back of your mind. You feel wetness on the peak of his boxers. Spencer's hard erection suffocates him, and you're eager to relieve him in every possible way.

He immediately sighs when your dress droops down your waist. Spencer takes you in as if you're the most prized art in a museum. He takes every line, scars, birthmarks, or as simple as the crease of your breast into memory.

“So, so beautiful…” Spencer murmurs in sheer adoration and awe. He looks up as if God has listened to his prayers as if he’s a passionate believer. Thankful to have you within his reach.

Warmth coats you with every sweep of his hand on every curve and slope of your body. He’s memorizing each soft plush and perfect flaw. The sentiment alone heightens your arousal like you’ve been touch-starved for years.

A yelp comes out of you when he unexpectedly spreads the wetness on your folds, touching where you need him most. “Spencer, please…” It’s a plea. A begging need.

He circles on your clit with more pressure than the first. “You ready for me?” A vigorous nod responds to him while you bite your moans to keep them at bay.

Spencer pulls you closer by the small of your back. Your ass is almost falling off the edge of the table. The lacey cloth stretched on the side of your entrance. He aligns his slobbering tip with your equally desperate cunt.

Unsatisfied by your response, Spencer grabs your chin with so much force your bitten lips set free. “I need a verbal answer, sweetheart. I need to hear your voice say the words.” He’s begging, too, aching to slam just about all of him in one push.

The anticipation is frustrating. "I wa—" With a mere echo jumping out of your throat, Spencer takes it enough confirmation and thrusts his hips to meet yours.

Temporary pain and electrifying pleasure cause your body to shake, followed by a pornographic moan that Spencer muffles with his hand over half of your face.

Your mind spins around in endless bliss as his cock throbs at the pressure of your hold. Spencer doesn't move an inch, waiting for your signal.

“Please… move. Now.” Your voice is caught in the middle of your throat, dragging into a lovely gasp when he pulls back slowly.

With the tip of his cock the sole filler inside your cunt, Spencer thrusts back so fast, so good. He keeps a steady pace that leaves both of you a moaning mess.

Spencer pins your hips on the table, making sure he satisfies you with every force. He sucks a breath in, dizzy at the sight of your breast bouncing on his beat.

Can he surpass the knowledge that other guys have seen you undone like this? Never. Will he clash heaven and hell for the sake of pleasing you? The almighty and the merciless needn’t make yet another bet because they know Spencer will drag anything, anyone, to kneel before you.

Because Spencer needs you undone like you have never been before. He craves to be the first to fuck you like it's the last thing you’ll ever do.

You're addicting. An influence he freely lets himself get sucked in. Spencer wishes he could brand himself with your name, eager to be yours. He's desperate to be called yours.

Spencer adorns your skin with red and purple hues, beaming at the sight of his marks with every echo of his lips popping yet another possessive tattoo.

The pleasure he gives sends you beyond time and space. Euphoric daze fogs up your brain. Vision locked inside your skull, eyes permanently rolled into sensual darkness.

“Spence…”

Fuck. The nickname drips perfectly off your lips. You and only you can make his cock even harder just by saying his name. He doesn’t try to keep his head from spiraling into desires, desperately imagining all the ways he can own you.

You gasp shakily, feeling the knot in your abdomen begin to tighten. One, two—five more strokes and you enter a void filled with sparkling stars and mind-numbing pleasure.

Spencer doesn't stop, just as you wish, through broken moans and nails digging into the thin layer of his skin. Not a single pace slower or faster. And it is fucking blissful.

Your moans drool off your lips, clenching around his cock. He rides your high like a limited experience that he will never get to try again. Though, you're sure there’ll be more clandestine rendezvous than you both are willing to admit. You both know this isn't the last you’ll ever get a taste of him. And it is not the last time he’ll crave you like oxygen.

A hand reaches out for his nape, carding your nails at the tangles of his hair. You begin to comb between his curly strands, massaging the scalp beneath. Spencer spits out a tasteful curse dedicated to the pleasure the sensation of your touch has given him.

“I keep up with my pill. I’m on a good window.” You assure him, breath hitching. “Fill me up, Spence.” You implore greedily, wanting nothing but all traces of him engraved inside and outside of you.

His mouth slacks open, burying his cock in the deepest part of you. “Fuck, you’re too good to me,” He hisses in utter bliss. Spencer jolts at the ecstasy that vibrates out of him, emptying himself through the depths of your walls.

Spencer rests his forehead against yours, whispering praises like you suddenly became his goddess. His senses tingle. And he doesn’t want time to continue.

Your ragged breaths sync with his and soon turn even. Years of yearning are fulfilled in one evening. The prick of his bites floods your senses.

“What was the question again?” You giggle out, still, a bit out of breath, breaking the silence.

Spencer playfully rolls his eyes, zipping up the back of your dress with a kiss on your shoulder. “I basically asked, ‘What are we’ like a typical chick in a movie.”

“I can’t believe you just said that.” Your sweet laughter follows while Spencer covers you once more with his jacket despite the clear indication of sweat glistening over your forehead that you’re not nearly as cold anymore. "That many?"

Pride surges across his chest, beaming. "Like a canvas drenched with paint." He softly bites his lower lip, satisfied by the work he has done.

You glance down, gasping at the sheath of love bites. "More like a slab of beaten up flesh." Your head lifts up to look at him in disbelief. Spencer painted every inch of your skin, no space left untouched. You don't even recognize your skin anymore.

"Maybe this will help," He reaches on the back of your head, tugging on the band. Your hair drapes over your neck.

"No, Reid. It does not help at all." Blinking, you slap his arm lightly, earning a shrug and a peck on your lips. He simply fastens the buttons of his jacket on you, covering everything the fabric can.

He hunches down to pick up the tie you discarded on the floor. When he stands back up, he says, “We can keep this between us for now while we figure things out if you’d like. But we have to agree on one thing.” He tucks in a wild strand of hair behind your ear. “I’m yours, and you don’t have a choice. Sounds good?”

You giddily smile, nodding as you dangle your weak legs over the table. “What about me? Can’t I be yours?” You coax, fixing his tie.

"Do you want to be? Because I'm content with just pleasing you every chance I get. I'm not in a rush."

"Spencer," You take his face in your hands. "Do you really want to just be friends with benefits?"

He swipes his tongue over his lower lip. "No..." Spencer squeaks under his breath.

You nod, humming. "Good, because I don't want you like a best friend either." You flatten the crease on his shoulders.

"So?" Spencer chases your eyes, hoping he can read your mind.

"So, you're mine, and I'm yours. Sounds better, don't you think?"

"Sounds great." He simpers, helping you get back on your feet.

The two of you come back to the others with the worst whiskey in the cellar. Your hair is neat, and your lipstick is replenished. His tie sits presentably on his chest and hides the smallest purple mark on the base of his neck. Intricate measures for intricate people.

Derek complains. Penelope agrees. Rossi objects. Hotch sips his drink with no care. Emily laughs hysterically. JJ shrugs.

No one knows. Or no one cares. But the secret remain as is.

Perks of being seen as the most platonic friends. More so than the great Derek Morgan and Penelope Garcia. What they know nothing about won’t hurt them, right? And it’s not like it’ll be any worse if they did.

Yet the absence of suspicion brews boredom and discontent. How come the others are suspicious enough, but not you and him? What's so dull in the air between you and Spencer that no one dares to wonder if romance ever crossed your minds?

Spencer drags his fingers on your thigh under the table. And no one suspects why you never take off his jacket despite dancing the night away.

And as the night deepens, like any other gathering, the group disperses into different areas and smaller groups.

“So?” JJ starts, wiggling her eyebrows.

“What?” You chuckle into the wine in your glass.

JJ rolls her eyes, “Did you give the photographer your number?”

Oh, yeah. You’d forgotten about the entire thing, glancing at the photographer who happens to have his lens on you. He smiles shyly, but you swear in your life that your shy boy is a lot more charming.

“Because if not, I think Will’s cousin has his eye on you, too,” JJ adds with a mischievous smile. The most supportive friend you’ll have. How will she react when she finds out?

You smile, looking far ahead at the pair of brown eyes.

Spencer returns the smile, Hotch’s voice muffling in the background.

“Like I said, it’s quite a little paperwork, but if you want to try things out and date, I have no problem with helping you out,” Hotch advises between sips of warm whiskey, talking about that one agent who approached Spencer at the bullpen thrice. What will he think when he finds out two of his agents are participating in fraternization?

They have no idea. Not an inkling of doubt whatsoever.

The naivete. It bores you and Spencer. It’s prosaic. It’s unglamorous.

From one end to another, the same words echo.

“I’ll have another drink.”

The two of you stand from each end, meeting over the table with vast choices of alcohol. You pick up a glass as Spencer stands next to you.

“Take it off?”

“Take it off.”

And you went separate ways.

JJ’s eyes widen at the small hint of marks on your chest, jacket slightly drooping over your shoulder.

Hotch doesn’t say a word when he notices the hickey on Spencer’s neck when the younger agent loosens his tie and undoes one button—and Hotch quotes—because of the heat. His peripheral catches JJ, Emily, and Penelope hovering around you like a group of crows scavenging for some sort of fleshy information he thinks he knows what’s about.

“A simple no would’ve suffice,” Hotch says evenly. “But you’re still filling out paperwork. Am I clear?”

Spencer stifles a smug smirk, looking down on his drink. “Clear.”

reid masterlist | masterlist

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clare-875 · 13 days ago

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Hi, I was wondering if you could do a One Piece Boys (Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid, and Katakuri) x female reader, where it's them being jealous like it could either be Reader gushing about a fictional character from a book, movie, etc. or they fangirl over a person they idol/admire or they see Reader talking to someone or Someone's flirting with Reader, etc.?

Emerald Eyes (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro, Ace)

Pairings: Luffy x Reader; Sanji x Reader; Zoro x Reader; Ace x Reader Summary: How he acts when he is jealous Warnings: Some Angst, Fluff A/N: I've split this into two parts :) [One Piece Masterlist] [Part 2: Sabo, Law, Kid, Katakuri] _____

- Luffy -

Luffy doesn't know why all of a sudden a funny feeling has invaded his senses, but he knows that the cause is you. Specifically, you talking to one Trafalgar D Water Law.

Luffy knows that you are interested in devil fruits and once you had learnt of Law's unique powers, you had jumped at the opportunity for him to show you. Luffy adored that about you; your eagerness and curiosity often matched his own. However, it had been about an hour now and you were still talking to him.

He can hear your rapid words and can see the enthusiasm in your grin, and though usually oblivious to such things, he would be a fool not to see Law's gentle gaze as he looked at you; so uncharacteristic of him. You were often considered the scientist of the crew providing insight and often helping Chopper with his remedies, so Law found it easy to talk to someone like you.

Intelligent, honest and purposeful.

"You know [y/n]-ya, if you were ever considering joining another crew-"

You barely have any time to register Law's words when an arm wraps itself around you and suddenly you're flying through the air. "Wait, Luffy-" But you are flung into his arms before you can even take a breath. You find yourself in Luffy's warm chest a small distance away from Law and turn to see your boyfriend glaring at him.

"Hey Tra-guy, I'm her Captain, stop trying to steal her away!"

You watch as Law's eyebrows twitch in annoyance, but before he can retaliate, he is dragged away by his own crew members who have been waiting for him to finish his conversation with you. Luffy grins and sticks a tongue out to him, satisfied that your attention is on him once more.

His arms loosen and you roll your eyes in mock annoyance, barely containing a grin as you look at your Captain. "We were just talking you know? I would never leave you for him."

Your Captain seems to find some satisfaction in your words as his eyes go gentle as he looks at you, and a warm smile erupts on his face. "I know, but you were taking too long. Come on, let's ask Sanji for some food!"

He drags you with him and keeps you close to him for the rest of the day. Unsure of what his feelings earlier may have meant, but sure in knowing he wanted you by his side and not Law's.

- Sanji -

You were wandering down the streets of an island holding Sanji's arm as he looked fondly at you. You were talking to him about something, eyes shining as they did when you spoke of the things you liked. He can see your lips move but he hears nothing because he is just lost in your gaze.

'God, you were just so perfect and beautiful and smart and powerful and you were just looking at him with the uttermost care and love and devotion and-'

Sanji's thoughts are all on you, all on you and your flawless image pretty eyes and unspeakable love. He barely even notices the abundance of women who pass him now, not when he could be looking at you instead. But suddenly, he is wretched free of his thoughts when he registers you calling him name.

"-Sanji, Sanji!"

You let out a sigh when you finally see him shake out of his thoughts and he feels a flush reach his face as he had been caught in his absentmindedness. "Y-Yes, love?" He asks, stammering out his words, but they only cause a warm grin to enlighten on your face. You let out a light laugh that has his heart hammering.

"I was just asking if you wanted some too?"

He turns and realises you are at a food stall in the markets the two of you had wandered into. "I'm okay love, but don't worry about the payment, it's-"

"It's on me."

Sanji looks up as he registers the words of the man in the stall he had not noticed before. He holds out the dish you had ordered, smiling widely to you. You, on the other hand, look up surprised as you take the dish from him and look unsurely between your boyfriend and him. "Oh, thank you!"

"Can't have a pretty lady like yourself paying can we?"

The man smiles once more, pearly white teeth beneath his well-kept hair. He was young and handsome and seemed to know it as he looked at you suggestively. You force yourself from grimacing, but Sanji has little patience.

He was already a jealous person to begin with, especially when it came to you. And though he tries to be better, he has to hold himself back from kicking the man from his stall and giving him a piece of his mind.

"If you want, I could show you around love, you might be better off with a local instead of-"

You cut the man off as you see the fire ignite in Sanji's eyes, hands clenching and unclenching in a failed attempt to keep his emotions at bay. "Why you-" "I'm okay thanks. I'm having a lovely time with my boyfriend and would rather keep things that way."

You glare at the man in front of you and take Sanji's hand in yours, they instantly lose their tension when he feels your gentle touch. When you are finally a short distance away, Sanji finds himself at ease once more. "You okay, love?" You ask him, lightly squeezing his hand in yours.

Sanji can't begin to explain the amount of pride he has in calling you his. "More than okay, love." He whispers placing a kiss on your intertwined hands. He tries his best to stay more alert the rest of the day, but ultimately fails once more as he gets lost in your gaze and the presence of you.

- Zoro-

"What's that?"

You were lying on your bed carefree when Zoro’s sharp words invade your ears and you startle, not having heard him approach. You put a hand to your heart exaggeratively.

"God Zoro, are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"You didn't answer my question."

His words are sharp as they are blunt, as he looks down to you and the manga in your hands. He had watched as you giggled and smiled and kicked your feet at the pages in your hands, clearly pleased. But imagine the swordsman’s displeasure when he learns that your happiness had come from a particular man engrained on the paper.

“It’s the latest Jujutsu Kaisen manga?”

“I know that, but who’s the white haired grandpa you keep giggling at woman?”

You gasp as though you had heard the most offensive thing in your life, looking up and glaring at your boyfriend with mock hurt.

“How dare you Roronoa Zoro, that is the Gojo Satoru and you will show some damn respect.”

Zoro would have adored the pout on your lips had you not been defending the man in your hands at that moment. More specifically, it made him feel weirdly horrible having competition with a man who wasn’t even real. A man he can’t even fight for you.

“He can’t be all that. Look you can’t even see his damn eyes.”

“Yes Zoro, but you see it’s for good reason because underneath is the most breathtakingly beautiful blue eyes, and omg Zoro look at him fighting in this scene it’s no wonder he’s the strongest, oh and-“

You are about to continue your gushing but unfortunately for you, your boyfriend watching you blush and ramble about another (nonexistent) man has him moving before he helps himself. One hand goes to his sword and all of a sudden instead of the manga you just had in your hands, pieces of paper scatter under Zoro’s careful slices.

“Zoro! I wasn’t finished reading that!”

Your pout adorns your features deeper and you find yourself genuinely frustrated by your boyfriend’s actions. Zoro feels bad for just a moment before realising that finally, your eyes were on him and not another man on paper.

He moves, gently prying your reluctant form into his embrace as he pulls you next to him on the bed. His lips latch onto your neck as he mumbles words into your skin.

"You don’t need the strongest when you’ve got the world's strongest swordsman right here next to you.”

You roll your eyes but a smile soon adorned your face at your unusually petty boyfriend.

“He’s not even real you know?”

You mutter rolling your eyes but your boyfriend merely hums before letting his slumber take over.

“Shut up about him now woman, I want to sleep.”

- Ace -

When Ace finds you, you are asleep on a bed, with a serene look on your face. The sight of you at peace, has Ace adorning a loving smile on his face as he gently slides in next to you. His warm arms pry you from your side so you are now facing him, but just before he pulls you into his body, he finds something buried in your arms.

Ace freezes for a moment, confused, but then you stir just in time for you to answer some of his questions. "Baby?" You mumble, looking up and surprised to see that your boyfriend has now joined you in bed. He must have returned from the mission he had set off for early this morning.

"Love?" Ace mutters as you slowly start to wake and you happily look up at him. "What's that?"

You look down into your arms, forgetting that in Ace's absence, you had decided to sleep with one of the plushies you usually had by your bedside table.

"Oh," you flush lightly, but smile nonetheless showing Ace what had been bundled in your arms in his place. "It's a plush?" Ace nods hesitantly but as he looks closer he notices just who that plush is supposed to resemble.

"Is that the fire guy from that show you're always watching? What was it, Demon Slayer?" You let out a light laugh but nod. "Yeah, it reminds me of you, you basically have the same powers."

Ace now looks to the plush of Rengoku Kyojuro in your embrace and suddenly feels the urge to light him aflame so it is reduced to ashes. "Why do you have that anyway?" He asks tentatively, trying to play off his jealousy of such a stupid situation, but of course, you notice.

"Because I like him?" You say with a teasing smile on your face. "More than me?" Ace pouts and you laugh once more lightly caressing his raven locks and putting the plush to your bedside with the others once more. He fights a smile when he sees its absence in your arms. "Of course not baby. Are you seriously jealous of a plush?"

Ace flushes a deep red as he avoids your gaze and to fight off the embarrassment, suddenly pulls you into his embrace. You squeal lightly as he tugs you in so suddenly and he buries his face into the skin of your neck. "No..." He mumbles. You grin at his words but suddenly tiredness is pulling you back in and you relish the warmth that he emits in the cool afternoon.

"I love you Portgas D. Ace, you're better than him anyways." You can feel his smile grow on your skin as he finally looks up and places a gentle kiss on your lips. "You mean that?" You roll your eyes as he looks at you, showing a mock look of desperation but secretly knowing he just wants the confirmation.

"Of course I do. Now shush, m'tired."

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ozzgin · 8 months ago

Text

Yandere! Sea Monster x Reader

In the spirit of Mermay, I come to you with a slightly different approach: an octopus hybrid, dwelling in the dark depths of ancient waters. :) Hopefully close enough to the sea monster you imagined, @wally0117

Content: gender neutral reader, male yandere, monster romance, reader likes sharks (a lot); inspired by The Shape of Water and My Octopus Teacher; photo from Whalebone Magazine

He’s always been aware of humans, naturally. Observed them from the beginnings of time, from the very first rudimentary attempt of a boat that crossed his waters. Though he can only guess how these creatures exist, how they breathe, how they move. What arrives in his depths is always a corpse of some sort. Bloated, decaying carcasses, rarely intact, whether chipped by fish or by time. Everything else is left to his imagination.

Until today. The fish are restless, the currents are stronger. Something must be happening above, stringing him along curiously. His many legs sway in tandem, opening and closing, as he investigates the source of interest. His pale white eyes narrow to a mere squint, unused to the light of the surface levels. At last, he finds it: a human.

Yet this one is unusual. Intact - save for the bleeding wound - and unlike the washed-out, cadaveric blue tint he’s normally accustomed to. He notices a twitch of the limb and it dawns on him: this one is still alive.

You wake up with a violent cough, thrusting out the leftover liquid that had invaded your lungs earlier. You clearly remember drowning, so how did you end up on shore again? The answer reveals itself rather quickly: a monstrous creature, albeit humanoid for the most part. The upper half resembles a man, but the torso ends in thick, enormous tentacles, now flopped onto the sand, surrounding your body. You search for the creature’s face, framed by translucent tendrils that seem to replace what you’d expect as hair.

“Thank you”. He scans your features and remains silent. Does he even understand human speech? After a moment of consideration, he looks ahead, surveying the water, then returns to you, giving you a nudge. He most likely wants to know how you ended up in that situation to begin with. “That’s, well…”

Conveniently enough, the monster has brought you back to your little camp, so you reach for your backpack and pull out a book. Of course, no words can ever replace the image itself. With renewed enthusiasm, you open your encyclopedia and turn it towards the man, showing him a photo of a sand tiger shark, tapping on it excitedly. “I was looking for sharks!”

Ever since the bizarre, life-saving encounter, you’ve been returning to the same spot most days. And without exception, the monster will be waiting for you in one of the neighboring caves. Judging by the pellucid, pale skin and his reluctance to be in the light, you guessed early on that he might be a creature of the depths.

One that has been around for a long time, it seems. Once he understood your interest in sharks and other aquatic animals, he developed a liking to play guide for you, silently touring you through forests of kelp, hidden caves, labyrinths of reefs and hills. He knows where the animals linger, and they don't scurry away when you approach. You've never dreamed of being so close to them, staring into their eyes and tracing their fins as they swim past you, unbothered and relaxed. The monster will gaze at you from a distance, amused by your passion.

On ground, you’ve begun your own little experiment: can the octopus creature learn sign language? You didn’t need long to discover how intelligent he is, mimicking your gestures with flawless ease, instantly memorizing the meanings, the connections, the implications. He seems to be terribly delighted by this newfound tool of communication, often asking you questions with earnest curiosity.

Ah, yes, the questions. It makes sense that he’d want to know more about humans, though his interrogations are rather…particular. Specific. It’s less about humans as a whole, and more about you. How long have you been swimming here? How deep can you actually swim, with or without aid? Might you have a family waiting for you back home? A mate, perchance? No? Interesting.

"My vacation will end soon", you sign with pursed lips. He tilts his head. "Leaving?" his webbed hands gesture, somewhat uneasy. You nod. You can discern a glint of melancholy in his eyes. Eventually, he resumes: "Would you like to see my home?" Your eyebrows raise in surprise. His home? Down there? Was such a thing even achievable for a human like you?

The plump suckers attach themselves to your skin, one resting over your mouth. "Do you trust me?" You cast one final glance over the underwater abyss, a black hole trapping all light and matter. You shake your head in approval. Without hesitation, he plunges over the cliff, pulling you after him and into the yawning void of darkness. His form glows eerily, and his movement is swift and elegant. You can tell this is his land, his territory. You would've been dead a long time ago.

He releases you on the wet stone, inside the air pocket of a cave. You need a few moments to overcome the wave of claustrophobia pressing against your lungs. As you catch your breath, you recall your long path from the surface. It would be impossible to make it back out again without your friend. A cold shiver runs across your spine. "Have a break, and I'll show you everything else afterwards", he gestures with a smile. "How long will it take? I don't want to walk back at night", you explain.

Silence. You stare into his empty orbs, awaiting a reaction. There's not a sound, not a gust of wind, not a shred of light. "You're not going back", he finally answers.

You see, he's done a fair amount of research himself. He doesn't need an encyclopedia to figure you out: how you breathe, how you move, how you exist. In fact, he is rather confident in his ways of helping you adapt to a life spent together. He would've never brought you down here if he wasn't certain of your survival. His grin widens in anticipation, a strange warmth enveloping his innards at the mere thought of it: a future with you in it, right here. However, one question remains, a cheeky, perverted detail that has been on his mind from the moment he met you, yet he could never investigate it properly.

How do humans mate?

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marvelwitchergilmore · 4 months ago

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Let Me Prove It

Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> After months of grieving for Logan, he proves to you he's not going anywhere.

Disclaimer: Descriptions of death, blood, reader goes through grief of losing Logan. Angst, sadness, some fluff. There is a happy ending. Illusions to smut towards the end. Not Proof Read.

You could remember the day you fell in love with Logan Howlett.

It had been a rainy afternoon. Nothing grand had happened that day. The kids had been in classes all day, most exams were happening all week but by Friday, they’d all be over for the semester. There was stew, heating up on the stove, and you had been reading your book.

At least, you’d been trying to.

Often, your mind would wander off on its own and only half way through your train of thought would you realise you had boarded the wrong train and it was already moving. And just like a flash of a meadow, snapping past one of the compartment windows, you discovered you had feelings for Logan.

And watching him walk through the backdoor only a moment later, confirmed your thoughts.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Your train came to a halt and you snapped up, focusing on reality. “What?”

Logan grumbled. “Nothing. Dinner ready?”

“Almost. Storm’s looking for you, by the way. She wants to know if you can cover her class next week. She’s got a doctor's appointment and no one’s available.”

Logan still had his back turned as he looked in the cupboard for something. “Sure. What class?”

“History. What are you looking for?”

Logan didn’t fully answer you. He just mumbled a noise before pulling a small box out from the back and closing the door. Turning around he opened it up, took a cookie out before offering it to you.

“She got a lesson plan?”

Looking down at your book, you dog-eared the page. Sometimes, you’d use a bookmark but considering most of them would disappear without a trace and leave you fending for yourself to find your page again, hours after you’d read it, you gave up on them.

“Yeah, she’s already left it in your room.”

“Of course she has.” Logan took another bite of his cookie and rounded the kitchen island.

Your gaze followed him. Mostly out of curiosity. You and Logan were friends. Not best friends. But good friends. Well…

Good enough friends.

Could you really be in love with him?

Reaching up into the top cupboard, he brought down the set of bowls and took half from the top.

“You take the rest.”

And for the next ten minutes, you both laid out the table in time for dinner.

Then you watched as he helped some of the younger kids with their hot meals. Despite all of his grumbling and his small protests when it came to calling him the best baby-sitter.

Logan was good with kids.

Yep.

You were in love with Logan.

And just like how you could remember the day you fell in love with Logan, you could also remember the day he died.

It had torn you to pieces.

It still did.

It had been on a mission. You’d all faced worse before. And yet, somehow, nobody was prepared for what was about to happen. Everything blew up. Quite literally. You had been helping some of the kids to safety with Storm and Scott. Scott had left half way through, running to find Jean and help her. Storm had given him cover, as well as the kids.

And once you knew the kids were in safe hands on the jet, you ran back.

Only, when you got to the top of the hill, having skidded to a halt only to catch yourself on a rotting tree, you looked down to see for the first time, the image that would be forever imprinted in your mind.

Logan and Jean were at the bottom. Scott had made it just in time to hold his girlfriend back when Logan took the brunt of the attack. It sent him flying and when he fell to the floor, your gut twisted.

Usually, he’d get up.

But something was off.

He wasn’t getting up. Not as quickly, anyway.

And when he did, an attack came sooner than anyone else had expected.

Straight through his stomach and a second through his side, Logan was impaled to the tree before being torn from it, sent flying forward with the tentacle branches before being pulled off and sent flying to the ground.

You remembered screaming his name along with the others before running forward. Storm had made it there before you, but you were the first on your knees beside him, trying to check for any healing that was starting.

It wasn’t.

You heard the muffled voices of the rest of the team in your ears, fighting against your own heartbeat as you looked down at Logan. He was bleeding out and fast.

The bodies beside you disappeared and followed after the attacker and soon everything became…

Silent.

The ringing in your ears had stopped, your ears had gotten used to your own heartbeat, and you tried your best to focus on Logan.

His eyes were closed. Begging him through your own tears for him to open his, you took his hand. Feeling for his pulse, it was weak. And getting weaker.

“Logan…please. Please don’t do this.”

Then your hearing focused on his heartbeat. Each beat took longer to come after the other until finally, with one weak squeeze of goodbye to your hand, Logan died.

The hours that followed after that became a blur.

The man you loved but had never told had died in front of you. You had heard his heartbeat stop. You had felt his last goodbye. He never got any last words. Just one last touch.

And every night that followed after that, you re-lived it. Over and over and over again. Each night, the same. Logan. The branches. The blood. The pulse. The heartbeat. The touch. The silence.

Sometimes you’d wake just as he touched your hand, the ghost of a feeling left on your palm as you woke.

The others never bothered to ask. At least, not after the first time you had told them. The Professor had gathered you all in his office after everything had happened. And all you could think of was that Logan’s body was lay, lifeless, underneath the school.

He had asked you what had happened and, with your arms folded and your eyes on the ground, you answered him.

“He wasn’t healing. There wasn’t anything I could do. He died,” you explained before looking up at the Professor and giving him Logan’s time of death. “May I go now? I want to make sure the kids are okay.”

The Professor excused you and you left as quickly as you could, the door slamming a little louder than you had meant.

And for the next two months, you…kept yourself busy.

People talked about Logan, they were determined to keep his memory alive. But they didn’t have to go to bed at night, just for his memory to die again. Each morning, you seemed to wake up earlier than usual. And with the feeling of Logan’s hand against yours, you busied yourself as best as you could.

Grading papers, alphabetising the library, cleaning every possible surface including the ceilings, constantly doing the laundry. Weeding out the garden, planting some new flower beds. Fixing the creaky wooden board in the hallway, painting the doors and wooden boards between the windows. Trimming the bushes, scrubbing the pots (even the old ones that weren’t in use anymore).

You did anything and everything you could. Mostly to keep your mind busy but party because you hoped, if you tired yourself out enough, you might have caught a break. Made it one night through without re-living Logan’s death.

But all of that changed one afternoon when you were called to the Professor’s study.

Where you came face to face with…

Logan.

Everyone was confused.

Apart from the Professor.

And throughout the meeting you remained quiet. Obviously, everyone was angry at the fact the Professor had kept such a big secret.

“We didn’t know if it would work and we didn’t want anyone to have to re-live their grief.” The Professor explained. “It was a shot in the dark.”

“How is this even possible?” Storm asked as she sat down.

“It seems Logan’s healing abilities were simply weakened. He needed help to heal. Medical help that not I, nor I’m afraid even you, Jean, could give him. There is a doctor I know, based in Alberta. She helped boost Logan’s healing factor and made sure that whatever had weakened him was no longer in his system.”

There was a little more explaining to do, but you could feel yourself drifting from the conversation. You just kept looking at Logan as he stood by the window and the Professor’s desk.

He had his back turned when you had walked inside, the others all looking confused and annoyed, having to wait for you before they got their explanation.

He had died.

You had seen him die.

You had felt him die.

And yet, there he stood. His hands in his pockets, looking around the room, breathing and living as if nothing had even happened.

Not long after all the explanations, everyone got to voice their opinion and you came last. Everyone looked at you, including Logan.

And all you wanted to do was run.

To him or away from him, you couldn’t quite tell.

So, with a breath, you forced a half smile and nodded. “It’s good to have you back. Professor, may I go? I’ve got a class that’s about to start.”

“Of…of course. I would have thought-”

Reaching for the door, you looked back. “See you round, Logan.”

Just before you closed the door, you heard Storm announce her way to Logan to give him a hug. But even the Professor couldn’t concentrate on that because he couldn’t help but notice there was something different about you.

Of course, he’d noticed you’d been keeping yourself busy. Missing out on family dinners, eating yours when you found the time later on in the evening, cleaning up the classrooms after hours, doing a little touch ups here and there with a smaller paint can and paintbrush.

Little did he know, you had just been filling in the spots you had missed the day before.

But he had figured you had been like the others. Itching to hug Logan. Being glad he was alive and breathing.

Instead…

You had barely said two words and had left as soon as you could.

“Are you okay?” Storm asked you later that night when you were cooking dinner.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Storm lifted herself onto a stool opposite you. “I don’t know. You just didn’t seem…excited about Logan being back.”

“Of course I’m excited he’s back.”

“Then would it kill you to show it?” Storm asked, half jokingly. “Here, let me help.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay, I’m almost done.”

Storm moved her hands away from your chopping board slowly. “Okay. Are you sure you’re okay?”

You smiled. “Ororo, I’m fine. Scouts honour. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

You shrugged, forcing your mind back to reality. “Nothing. It’s just been a long day, s’all.”

Later that evening, you found yourself alone in your classroom. The others were down the hall having dinner but you had found yourself something to do. You could have gone down but whether out of habit of the last two months or fear, you didn’t wish to join them.

Your appetite had already been worse for wear over the last couple of weeks. If you were sat at the table, across from Logan, you wouldn’t have been able to even think about eating.

So, taking another bite of your sandwich, you turned back to your essays.

Meanwhile, back in the kitchen, Logan looked around the table. You were missing.

“Whose turn was it to cook tonight?” Logan asked.

“Y/n’s.” Jean told him. “She’s been making most of the meals lately. Guess she just got the cooking bug.”

“But she’s not here.”

Jean shrugged it off. “She’ll probably get some later.”

“Where is she?” He asked as he went to stand. But Jean stopped him.

“Oh, no. Stay. Come on, Everyone needs to catch up.”

“Catch up on what?” Logan asked. “I’ve been in a hospital in Alberta for two months.”

“Please, just…stay. Besides, Y/n’ll appear when she wants. She’s probably busy.”

And after a little bit more convincing, Logan stayed. You’d left so abruptly that morning, he questioned if you even wanted to see him at all.

It continued like that for a week.

At first, Logan tried to convince himself you weren’t avoiding him. But as the week went on and he began to see less of you inside his routine, he knew you had to be.

And then he began to notice things.

Everything seemed cleaner than when he had left. And brighter. Fresher, even. The doors had been given a paint job. Despite it being dry, he could still smell the aroma of fresh paint in the air. The halls were less creaky when he walked down them. The cupboards were tidier. He could find his cookies with ease now.

And despite the fact he didn’t read all that much, he knew the library had changed. Even the books that no-one ever touched. There wasn’t a speck of dust to be seen near them. And one of his personal favourites – a book he tended to read around winter, where the cover was falling off and the pages were falling apart – had been binded to look like new.

So, taking action into his own hands, he went to look for you.

And it wasn’t long before he found you.

You had escaped him when he saw you planting fresh flowers in the garden, and you had escaped him when you had brought in the groceries having used Storm as a distraction for you to slip out of the kitchen once everything was away.

But he had found you in the library.

Once again, you hadn’t come to dinner, making up an excuse that you needed to work. And Logan knew for a fact you hadn’t left to come and get your dinner yet so, he brought it to you.

“Thought you might be hungry.”

You looked up but Logan had already heard the change in your pulse.

“Oh…thanks. You can just leave it there.”

And he did.

“You’ve got to eat at some point.”

“I will,” you looked back up at him. “Soon. I promise.”

This was the longest conversation you’d both had since he got back. So, he took a seat across from you.

“What are you working on?”

“Work.”

Logan smiled. “Funny.”

Then the silence washed over you both. But he didn’t want it to stick. “Y/n?”

You hummed a response.

“Can you look at me?”

Your heartbeat seemed to jump and you took in a discrete breath. Finally seeing your face, Logan smiled.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“I’ve not been avoiding you.” You looked back at your work.

“Yes, you have.”

“What makes you say that?”

Logan gave you a list. “The constant work, the avoidance of dinners, the silent treatment. Did I do something?”

You shook your head. “You haven’t done anything, Logan.”

“Then can you look at me when you tell me that so I might believe you.”

Finally, you looked at him.

“Tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing’s going on.”

Logan asked again. “What’s going on?”

You laughed, nervously. “Nothing’s going on. Logan, I’m fine.”

“Are you? Because you’ve been avoiding me since I got back and- what? What is it?”

You laughed again, except this time you didn’t know how you’d describe it.

“‘Got back’ you repeated his words. “You say that as if you left for a vacation. You died, Logan. Or did you forget that?”

“No. Y/n. What’s going on?”

You shook your head and packed away your things as quickly as you could. “Forget I said anything. Thanks for dinner.”

“You didn’t even eat-” Logan watched you walk away from him again.

He’d rather have you fight him than avoid him, so he pressed on.

“Talk to me.” Logan followed after you. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. It’s late, Logan. Go to bed.”

“Only when you do.”

“What?” You asked.

“Your bedroom, it’s upstairs, down the hall from mine. In the opposite direction. The only thing this way is your classroom.”

“I’ve got to finish grading.”

“It’s almost midnight.”

You shrugged. “What teacher doesn’t get enough sleep?”

“Something is going on. Something has been going on. For a while. Please,” Logan begged. “Just tell me what it is.”

You stopped in your tracks. “Do you really want to know what it is?”

“Yes.” Logan nodded, stopping in front of you.

“Okay then, I’ll tell you.”

And you did.

“I watched you die, Logan. I heard your heart stop. I watched as blood pooled out of your body with no way for me to stop it. Even after three scalding hot showers, I still had your bloodstains on my skin, under my nails and on my clothes. Every night when I close my eyes, I re-live it. Everything. Every tiny detail. And the silence afterwards…it’s deafening. Sometimes I wake up, still feeling the pressure you put into my hand. Sometimes it’s still there hours after I wake up. I had spent every single day keeping myself busy, finding extra work for myself, just to make sure that I don’t start daydreaming about the waking nightmare I had to watch you go through. I had spent the last two months going over and over in my head what I would say to you if I ever saw you again. But I could never bring myself to do it, because I had watched you die. I had felt you die. So, please. Forgive me if I’m not jumping with joy because I can miraculously forget what happened, like everyone else.”

Logan let your words wash over him. No one had told him. He had a sneaking suspicion they hadn’t because even they didn’t know. Maybe they never asked. Maybe they just hadn’t noticed.

Gaining back your breath, you went to turn away.

“Goodnight, Logan.”

Closing your classroom door behind you, you silently locked it and pressed your back against it feeling your entire body start to shake. Slowly, your legs went from underneath you and you lowered yourself to the ground by sliding down the door. You tried your best to squeeze your tears back into your eyes with the heels of your hands, but nothing could stop them.

Not now.

Not when you had just admitted the truth to the one man you never thought you would see again.

Three times Logan turned back to your classroom door, ready to walk inside. But he didn’t know what he would say.

So he waited.

Back in his room, he waited to hear the door to your room close.

And after two hours, he finally did.

And before he knew it, his feet were carrying him towards your door. Only, he stood there for ten minutes, unsure of what to do with himself.

At some point, he finally knocked.

Turning off the tap by the sink, you hung up your flannel onto the radiator bar and dried off your face when you heard the soft knock at your door.

There was only one person who could have been up so late.

He knocked again after a minute or two.

And you opened up the door.

Whatever Logan had just semi-prepared in his mind, slipped away. He was going to say something. But looking at you, standing in front of him…all words failed him.

And the longer he stood in front of you, the louder the reminder came to you that he wasn’t dead. He was alive. He could be shot with twelve live rounds and the bullets would pop right back out of his skin. His claws would flare out and he’d be Wolverine. They’d retract and his skin would heal instantly. There would be no evidence that anything had ever happened.

Then six words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them. Before even your brain could register the thought.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan felt his chest crack and his heart impale with pain.

Pushing the door open a little wider, his arms engulfed you in an embrace that would forever be imprinted on your soul. Your own arms wrapped around him, trying to remember the feel of him both physically and spiritually in case the day ever came where you truly would never see him again.

That if this was going to be your only memory of him, you could never, ever forget it.

Lifting you up in his embrace for a moment, Logan walked further inside your room, kicking the door shut with his foot. Even if no one else was awake, he didn’t want to risk anyone walking by. Clearly, no-one else knew what you had been living through in your nightmares. And he didn’t want anyone else to share this moment between himself and you.

“You spared me the pain of being alone.” Logan whispered into your hair. “I was less scared because you were there.”

“I couldn’t have left you.”

Your tears were back to rolling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry about everything you had to go through.”

Logan softly kissed away your tears, wiping the others away.

You took in a shaky breath. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you.”

Logan shook his head. “You saved me. You stayed with me.”

“But-”

With both your eyes closed, and Logan’s, you felt his forehead touch yours as his hands cradled your cheeks. “I’m real, Y/n. I’m alive.”

You felt Logan take your hand and press it to his chest, over his heart. His heartbeat was mostly steady, if a little quick. Spreading your fingers across his chest, you felt it rise and fall with his breathing.

“I’m alive,” he kept repeating. “I’m alive.”

Logan’s breath was drawing closer to yours. “Logan…”

“Let me prove it to you.”

And you let him.

Capturing your breath in a kiss, Logan remained soft at first. He didn’t want to scare you. He didn’t want you to jump and run away from him like you had done only a few hours before in the library.

But then you kissed back.

So he moved his hands through your hair and over your body until you were pressed against him as close as you possibly could be.

Your own hands pulled him in closer by his neck whilst the hand he’d placed over his heart remained fixed in its position.

Logan was proving to every sense in your body he was real. That he was alive. Almost counteracting the memory that had been drawn from a waking nightmare.

And as he lifted you up, your back soon pressing against the wall, you and Logan knew he would be spending the rest of the night doing exactly what he told you he wanted to do.

Prove it to you.

As morning rolled around, you felt a warm body next to you, tangled not only in you but also your sheets.

Logan.

His arms practically caged around you, you recalled every single detail from the night before. Your argument in the hallways, the classroom, the knock at the door, the hug, the kiss, the proof.

And then, you felt yourself, for the first time in months, give a real smile.

Lowering your head, you buried yourself in between Logan’s chest and your bedsheets, feeling his arms tense at your movement, holding you in the bed without a way of escape.

And as your body reacted to his touch you realised something.

For the first time since his death, you hadn’t had a nightmare. You hadn’t seen his death play on repeat inside your head. And the touch you were feeling wasn’t in your hand but rather all across your body.

Parts were aching with a soreness you never quite knew was possible and later when you would look in the mirror, you would find fingertip bruises by your hips, love bites leading down your hip bone and on your inner thigh. Smaller ones were also dotted around your collar and neck, but a rather prominent one was yet to be left by the crook of your neck from behind where Logan’s lips would find themselves before you got into a fresh shower, Logan joining almost immediately.

But until then, you’d revel in the feeling of Logan’s constant heartbeat against your hand, and for a moment your lips as you kissed his skin. Before he woke up and proved to you time and time again how real he was and how much the memory that had plagued you for two months was something that, although wasn’t easy to forget about, could become something of a distant memory.

And for the rest of your lives, he would make sure to do exactly that.

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cressidagrey · 2 months ago

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It's a Love Story - Chapter 5

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

“Where’s Az?” Mor asked as Nesta and Cassian entered the dining room at the River House.

“Busy,” Cassian said with a shrug, as he pulled out the chair for his mate, greeting the rest of their family with a smile.

Mor cocked her head, a small frown appearing on her face. "Busy?" she repeated, a note of curiosity in her voice. "What's he up to?"

Busy. That had been Azriel’s answer to nearly everything after Koshei. Busy.

Even quieter than usual. Keeping away from all of them…and Cassian still heard that one sentence echo in his head. Better me than you. Like somehow Cassians life was worth more than Azriel’s.

Azriel was just being noble and self-sacrificing as usual, right? Cassian knew that his brother didn't really think that way, didn't really believe that his life was worth less than anyone else's. But still, the words haunted him. He couldn't shake the feeling that somehow, somewhere, he had let Azriel down. That he hadn't been there when his brother had needed him the most.

Maybe he should have tried to talk to him...when it all went down… but then he hadn't realised what exactly was even going on, until Nesta had flatly laid it out for him one evening. Azriel had gotten over Mor only to fall in love with Elain...and that hadn't ended in his favour either.

Cassian grimaced just thinking about it. Azriel deserved to be happy. Azriel deserved a mate that loved him, a female that fucking adored him…and instead his brother had fallen not just for one, but two unavailable females.

And Azriel hadn’t complained. Not once. He had never let it show.

He always kept his emotions hidden under that stoic mask of his, like he was afraid of letting anyone see how much he was hurting. Cassian knew that Azriel would never ask for help, that he would never admit that he needed someone to talk to. But that didn't mean that he didn't need it.

Cassian just wished that he could find a way to get Azriel to open up, to let him in…that wouldn’t involve beating him to a bloody pulp.

Azriel acted like everything was fine. Azriel acted like he didn't care. Cassian knew that it was a mask, knew that it wasn't the truth...but Azriel liked to pretend it was...and maybe it was better to let him pretend.

It wasn't like he was hurting anybody with it, right? He was doing his work just as well as he always did...and if he wanted to spend his free time reading Sellyn Drake books, maybe they should just let him do that…maybe it made him feel better.

"Maybe he's seeing his secret girlfriend," Cassian drawled.

Mor snorted at that suggestion. "Please," she said with a roll of her eyes. "As if Azriel would ever have time for a girlfriend, let alone a secret one."

"You would be surprised," Cassian muttered under his breath. Apparently Azriel had time for reading Sellyn Drake novels while locked into his room, after all.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Mor wondered. "He has been...distant lately," she said with a pout.

Cassian could only stare at her. Mor couldn't be serious right now, could she?

Of course, Azriel was distant to her. Mor had fucking broken his heart and trampled on it to top it off. And Cassian had helped her with through the years. He probably owed Azriel an apology for that as well.

And still, Azriel hadn’t complained. Azriel hadn’t called them out. Azriel had taken it silently. Had even congratulated Mor when her Mating Bond with Emerie had snapped. Had been painfully polite, making painfully sure that he didn’t cross any lines, didn’t make Emerie uncomfortable in any way.

"Just leave him be," Cassian said with a shrug. "He's reading Sellyn Drake novels, he'll be fine,” he waved her off.

Rhys nearly spit his wine over the table and instead started coughing violently. "Azriel is reading Sellyn Drake novels?!" he asked Cassian with an incredious stare.

"Apparently he has trust in Nesta's taste of literature," Cassian answered easily.

Mor raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Sellyn Drake novels?" she repeated, eyeing Cassian like he had gone mad. "Since when does Azriel read those kinds of books? He's not exactly the...romantic type."

Or maybe there just never had been a single person that had appreciated that side of his brother. Who knew what Azriel actually was into.

Elain and Mor weren’t similar in the slightest after all.

Cassian shrugged. "Maybe he's expanding his horizons," he said with a grin. "Or maybe he just wants to see what the fuss is all about. After all, Sellyn Drake is...surprisingly good. Or so I've heard, anyway." He gave a sidelong glance to Nesta, who simply rolled her eyes at him.

Still, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhys play absentmindedly with the stem of the wine glass. There was something there...between Rhys and Azriel that Cassian couldn't quite put his finger on. Some kind of tension...some kind of...something.

But lately, it had seemed like that tension had only been getting worse. Like they were both holding something back, like they were both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Cassian couldn't help wondering what would happen when that tension finally snapped.

***

"Winnowing or flying?" Azriel asked Sky as they stepped out into the icy early winter air.

"I...I can't...fly?" Sky answered haltingly, looking at him with these devastating blue eyes. They were beautiful. Not a light blue, not a teal, not bordering on violet…just beautiful near cobalt blue. She probably would match his siphons, he reflected weakly.

"I'll fly, I'll carry you," he gave back with a chuckle. She stared at him like he was insane, her cheeks reddening.

"I...I...you...can...can't carry me. I am too...heavy," she mumbled. Now it was his turn to stare at her.

Azriel couldn't help but scoff at that. "Too heavy?" he repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'm an Illyrian warrior,” he told her drily. “I could carry a full-grown male into battle if I had to,and I have dragged full-grown males off the battlefield…I can carry you.”

Azriel couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. Was she...was she seriously trying to tell him that she was too heavy for him to carry? She just so reached the middle of his chest! She definitely wasn't thin...her body was covered with soft flesh and lush curves, every inch of it soft and inviting...but even if she weighed twice her weight, he would easily be able to carry her. She would probably weigh next to nothing to him.

And yet, he could sense the insecurity in her voice, the way she didn't quite believe that he could carry her.

He stepped closer to her, placing his hand gently under her chin and tilting her head up so that she was looking directly into his eyes. "You are beautiful," he said softly, his voice full of warmth and sincerity. "And I don't care how much you weigh, I can carry you. I want to carry you. Because you are mine and I will always protect you, no matter what."

Her breath hitched at that, and he could see the warmth spreading through her cheeks as her heart began to race. She looked up at him with those stunning blue eyes of hers, her lips parted slightly in surprise and wonder. "You...you really mean that?" she whispered, her voice soft and shaky. "You...you don't mind how big I am?"

Azriel chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart, I don't mind," he said gently. "I think you are absolutely perfect just the way you are. And if I have to carry you to prove it, then that is what I will do." And without another word, he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her against his chest as easily.

She squeaked as they shot up in the sky and then she laughed, the sound bright and beautiful

They soared through the sky together, the wind blowing through their hair and clothes as they flew. The City of Starlight sprawled out beneath them, a beautiful tapestry of color and light. Azriel held her close, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the sound of her heartbeat pulsing in rhythm with his own. He knew that he could never tire of this feeling, of having her in his arms like this.

Sky looked up at him with a smile, her eyes shining with happiness and excitement. "I love this," she breathed.

How very fitting it was for the female that called herself Sky to love flying.

"Good," Azriel said softly, his voice full of warmth. "Because we can do this anytime you want, sweetheart."

They soared higher and higher, until the city below them was nothing but a sparkling sea of lights. Azriel was in his element up here, his wings powerful and graceful as they sliced through the air. He could feel the wind whipping through his hair, the cold night air stinging his skin. But he didn't mind, not with her in his arms. In fact, he felt more alive than he had in months. Years, even.

He flew a loping circle over Velaris, towards the Lake House the shadows had purchased and he thanked them mentally for their foresight. He couldn't very well bring Sky home to the House of Wind...but here...he could take her. It was private and safe...and if the expression of her face was anything to go by, she loved it.

He angled his body towards the Lake House, gliding towards it with expert precision. As they approached, Azriel saw the soft glow of the lights in the windows, the gentle sway of the curtains in the breeze. The lake glittered in the moonlight, the surface of the water undisturbed and serene. It was the perfect place to bring her, a place that he felt she would love just as much as he did.

"You live here?" she wondered, wonder in her voice as she took in the sight.

Azriel felt a warm swell of pride in his chest as he landed smoothly on the deck of the house. "Yes," he said simply, his eyes fixed on her face, watching as she marveled at the house. "I wanted a private place," he admitted. "Somewhere quiet and peaceful, where I could escape from the chaos of my life for a little while.I haven't been there long though, it’s still a work in progress…" he warned her. More like 2 hours before he had met her. "But I love it."

He set her down gently, his hands lingering on her waist for a moment before he stepped back. "Come on," he said softly, holding out his hand to her. "Let me show you inside."

The shadows skittered inside as soon as he opened the door, like a bunch of little busybodies, rightening the curtains there, fluffing pillows on the couch...It seemed to amuse Sky though. "You must ne...never have to deal with a mes...messy kitchen," she teased him

Azriel chuckled at that. "No, the shadows don't like when things are out of place,” he admitted.

It wasn't a lie. But then he didn't like it either.

Like a moth pulled to the flame, Sky was pulled towards his bookcases, fingertips tripping over the spines as she hungrily read the titles.

Azriel suddenly hoped that the shadows had put something other than Sellyn Drake novels in the bookcase, because otherwise he was going to look like a fucking stalker.

He watched with a mix of amusement and apprehension as she examined the bookshelves, his heart pounding in his chest. *Please,* he silently pleaded to the shadows, *please tell me you didn't leave those Sellyn Drake novels on the shelf.* Because if she saw those, it would be disastrous.

The shadows seemed weirdly frozen in place.

"You read Sel...Sellyn Drake?" Sky asked him, sounding delighted and shocked at the same time.

Azriel groaned inwardly, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. "I...yes, I do," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "I...There is...I...I need to tell you something."

"Te...Tell me som...something?" Sky asked, turning towards him, these big beautiful eyes staring at him.

"I...It wasn't a coincidence that I was in that bar tonight," he told her, watching as she stared at him. "The shadows told me to go."

"The...The shad...shadows?" she asked him, looking utterly shocked.

"I...I told them...a few weeks ago...to...find me somebody that....that I could love...somebody that I could make happy. A wife," Azriel admitted. "You were the one they picked."

She stared at him, her mouth falling open slightly. Azriel braced himself for her reaction, not sure what to expect. Would she be angry? Scandalized? Horrified that he had sent his shadows to find him a wife?

She stared at him wide-eyed. "You...You as…asked yo…your sha..shadows to fi…find you a wi…wife?!" she asked him, repeating his words back at him.

He could feel his cheeks reddening but nodded nonetheless. "...are you angry?" he asked her weakly.

Sky stared at him for a moment, but then she shook her head. "No, No...no, I'm not," she repeated again, her voice trembling slightly. "I'm...I'm flat…flattered, actually...Though...though I am cu..curious what it…what it was about me that...made…made them pick me," she admitted.

For the first time in his life, his shadows talked to somebody other than Azriel. *We thought you would treat Master like you treat your cat,* the shadows told her brightly.

She blinked at the bunch of shadows that had gathered in front of her.

"You...You...You want me to...treat Az..Azriel like...like a cat?" she asked them incrediously.

Azriel spluttered, his cheeks burning with mortification. He hadn't expected the shadows to be so blunt, and the idea of her treating him like a cat was...well, it was absurd, to say the least. He wanted her to be his mate, his equal, not to treat him as if he were some kind of pet.

"No, no," he quickly interjected, trying to salvage the situation. "They...they don't mean it like that, Sky. The shadows have their own...unique way of looking at things. Please just...just forget they ever said that."

Sky fixed him with a look. "What do you mean?" she asked the shadows.

*You love your cat,* the shadows said quickly. *You buy him ridiculous overpriced Tuna, and you let him sleep in your bed and you scratch him behind the ears. You even knitted him a sweater!*

Azriel winced, feeling his embarrassment and mortification rising even further.

"That...thats not important," he mumbled, feeling like he was on the verge of spontaneously combusting from embarrassment. "The shadows...they have a habit of exaggerating things. Just...please, don't take them too seriously. I'm not expecting you to treat me like a cat, I swear."

Sky looked at him, then at the Shadows, then at Azriel again. She seemed to be lost in thought, clearly trying to decipher what the shadows meant.

"You..You want your mas…master to be tre…treated...well?" Sky finally asked the shadows, her tone of voice serious. "You pick…picked me because I...be..because I was nice to my cat?" she asked them curiously.

*You are so kind,* the shadows said softly. And so pretty. And we knew you would treat Master well and wouldn't judge him.*

Sky blushed at the compliment.

Azriel felt a sense of relief wash over him as the conversation shifted away from the whole "cat" thing. He had to admit, the shadows were right. Sky had been nothing but kind and considerate towards him since they met, and he was grateful for that. Still, he couldn't help but feel a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

"Look...I apologize for the shadows' behavior," he said to Sky, his voice soft. "They can be a bit...blunt, sometimes."

"I…I un…understand where they are com…coming from," she said nearly thoughtfully. "They just...want to see you hap…happy?" she said carefully and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Though they…they don't seem to have much of a sense of boun…boundaries," Sky said with a laugh. "You hid in my apartment didn't you?" she asked the shadows.

Azriel cringed as the shadows seemed to twirl in agreement. He had hoped that particular detail would have gone unnoticed, but he should have known better. Sky was too observant for her own good.

"Yes, they did," he admitted reluctantly. "I'm sorry about that. They...they have a tendency to go where they please."

Sky still mustered the shadows that were twitching in front of her

"I…I prom…promise to t…treat your ma…master well." Sky said seriously. "He's my mate."

Azriel felt his heart skip a beat at her words. The sound of that word coming from her lips made his knees weak.

He stepped forward, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his. "And I promise to treat you well too," he swore fervently.

"And I'll…I’ll even knit him a swea…sweater," Sky continued, looking at the shadows.. "I…I don't know if he likes Tu…tuna, but I'll…buy him some… sweets."

He couldn’t help but laugh at her words, feeling a surge of affection for her that was almost overwhelming. "Sky," he said softly, looking into her eyes. "You don't have to do any of that for me. Just being with you is more than I could ever ask for.But...if you are willing to knit me a sweater, I surely won't say no to it," he added with a laugh. "And maybe you could try scratching me behind the ears too, just in case the shadows are right."

He meant it as a joke, but there was a part of him that was secretly delighted by the idea of her spoiling and doting on him. Maybe, just maybe, the shadows were onto something after all.

"And...who knows, maybe I'll develop a taste for Tuna," he added, grinning playfully. "As long as it's the fancy kind, that is."

He kissed her forehead gently, holding her close for a moment longer before finally pulling away. "But Sky…you don’t have to do all of that…Just being with you is enough."

She smiled up at him, beautiful and blinding and he couldn't help but kiss her.

As his lips met hers, Azriel felt a wave of warmth and tenderness wash over him. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the shadows, not the world outside, nothing but her.

He broke the kiss reluctantly, resting his forehead against hers as he caught his breath.

"You…You can absolutely sleep in my bed with me," she whispered. "Or I'll sleep in yours," she offered, a grin on her face... and that was all he needed to hear, as he picked her up again.

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x oc #azriel x reader #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic #It's a Love Story

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rafeskai · 2 months ago

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Stolen Glances - Drew Starkey

Summary: At the Met Gala, Reader, a singer, and Drew Starkey share an unexpected connection after slipping away from the spotlight to escape the chaos. Bonding over music and the pressures of fame, they find themselves drawn to each other, sharing candid moments and stolen glances throughout the night.

Pairings: Drew Starkey x Popstar!Reader

Warnings: None

Author's Note: Let me know if I should make this a short series :)

The lights are blinding, bouncing off the sleek walls and polished floors, reflecting the glitz and glamor of a world that feels surreal even to you, despite having been in the limelight for years. The Met Gala was one of the events you could never quite get used to — an annual, glittering parade of artists, designers, models, and the occasional movie star. Tonight, you’ve arrived with your team, decked out in a show-stopping outfit that had social media buzzing long before you even stepped onto the red carpet.

After the red carpet and photo-ops, you slip away, seeking a quieter corner of the hall, clutching a champagne glass that’s more for show than sipping. It’s here, away from the flashing cameras, that you hear someone chuckle softly nearby.

“So you’re hiding out too, huh?”

You turn toward the voice and find yourself face-to-face with Drew Starkey. He’s tall, with an easy smile, his tux fitting him like it was made for him. You recognize him immediately — the Internet’s favorite bad boy. And despite the flashy lights outside, he somehow exudes a quiet, laid-back charm that feels surprisingly out of place in a room full of larger-than-life personalities.

“Guilty,” you reply, a smirk tugging at your lips as you raise your glass. “Needed a breather. How about you?”

Drew chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, his eyes sweeping over the crowded hall. “Yeah, I’m not too big on these things either. But they told me it’d be ‘good for my image,’” he says, making air quotes with a playful grin.

You laugh, nodding in understanding. “They say that a lot. But hey, it’s not so bad. I’ve already had three strangers tell me they love my latest album, which they clearly haven’t listened to.”

Drew chuckles, his gaze meeting yours. “Well, for what it’s worth, I did listen to your latest album. My sister is obsessed. I think I’ve heard every song about a thousand times.”

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow, amused. “Then you must be a fan by now.”

He shrugs with a playful smile. “Maybe I am. Got a favorite track, actually.”

Curiosity piqued, you tilt your head, challenging him. “Really? Which one?”

He steps closer, lowering his voice as if to keep the answer between the two of you. “Track three. ‘Lonely Nights,’ right? That song hits different.”

You blink, caught off guard by his choice. That song was raw, a rare glimpse of your private self in an industry that often demanded you be someone else. Hearing Drew mention it, with that earnest glint in his eye, stirs something in you.

“Didn’t expect that,” you admit. “Most people go for the upbeat stuff. The party anthems.”

He shrugs again, an easy smile gracing his lips. “Guess I’m not most people.”

Before you can respond, a voice calls out to you from across the room — your manager, reminding you that you’re needed back on the main floor.

You give Drew an apologetic smile, reluctant to leave. “Duty calls, I guess.”

He nods, his gaze lingering on you. “Good luck out there.”

You turn to leave, but then glance back at him, emboldened. “Hey, maybe we’ll run into each other again tonight?”

He grins, his eyes twinkling under the dim lights. “Count on it.”

As the night wears on, you spot Drew in the crowd multiple times, catching his eye each time and exchanging a silent smile or a raised glass. Eventually, you find yourself back in that quiet corner, escaping the chaos once more — and it’s no surprise that Drew finds his way there too.

“Fancy meeting you here,” he jokes, leaning casually against the wall beside you.

“Guess this is our spot now,” you reply, a smile creeping onto your face.

The rest of the night blurs into an effortless flow of conversation. Drew listens intently as you share anecdotes from your world, and he offers his own, giving you glimpses into the life of an actor constantly in the public eye. There’s a quiet understanding between you both, an unspoken bond between two people navigating the glitzy chaos of fame.

As the night winds down, and the crowd begins to thin, Drew walks you outside, where the city lights glisten in the darkness.

“Thanks for tonight,” you say, the words leaving you softer than you intended.

He glances down at you, his gaze steady. “No problem. Hopefully, we get to do it again sometime.”

Before you can respond, he takes a step back, giving you a quick, almost shy smile before disappearing into the night.

You’re left standing there, with a new excitement buzzing in your chest. The first spark of something that feels rare and real — and maybe, just maybe, the beginning of something extraordinary.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #outer banks x reader #obx #obx x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron request #rafe cameron season 4 #drew starkey fanfiction

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biteyoubiteme · 3 months ago

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sour apple flavored

taehyun x fem!reader

synopsis: someone or something is always waiting by your window at night, why not leave it unlocked and see what happens?

warnings: 🔞!!! incubus!taehyun, somno/dudcon , spit kink, spit as an aphrodisiac, oral (f!rec), overstim (f!rec), slight nipple play, marking, lots of kissing, mentions of masturbation, no protection, creampie, cum eating prob forgot some

wc: 2.7k

an: I don't know how well I did with the dream v reality mix but I tried sorry if it gets kinda confusing ;-; this is 100% inspired by devil by the window it was on repeat as I wrote it no explanation needed. ive never written something like this and I don't know if youll like it but I definitely had fun <3 not proofread sorry! feedback is appreciated :)) [m.list]

this is apart of my mini kinktober event check out the other fics here! [dumdum m.list]

The dreams always started the same way; like waking up with the sense of being watched. The moonlight coming in through the open window that you never remembered opening in the first place. Gauzy curtains rippling in the soft breeze cooling down your flushed cheeks. You never saw him standing there right at the edge of the windowsill until after you've sat up, bed sheets pooling around your waist as you rub at your eyes trying to get them adjusted to the darkness.

It was always so eerily silent, the only sound coming from your gentle breathing. It's the slight tilt of his head at the sound of your sigh that makes you realize you're not alone. The shine on the little black horns on his head caught the silver moonlight, night air catching the strands of his hair on his brow. It's the curiosity in his eyes that keeps you from being scared, every slow blink taking you in like a wanting cat deciding if you're worth the time.

You're sure it's a dream because no one has ever looked so beautiful, especially not any of the boys who find themselves lucky enough to make it into your bed. No, the only way you can describe him is otherworldly, born from your dreamscapes amalgamation of every desire you've craved in a partner.

The tempo of your heart starts to pick up, flush deepening just eyeing him. It's what makes him smirk so subtly that if you hadn't been watching his mouth you wouldn't have realized his expression had changed at all.

It was impossible to think about anything else but what it would feel like to run your fingers over his tanned skin. All his defined muscles on display for you. Images of you and him flickered through your head like you've already been here before, like he's been pressed against you in this very bed while you kiss along his chest and to his jaw. Your thighs clench swearing you can feel his hands on you even if he's only across the room, the ghost of his fingers trailing between your legs just barely brushing over the soaked fabric of your panties.

That alone has you falling back to your pillow, hips jerking trying to meet the image halfway as if it's not in your imagination but a tangible thing you can reach if you roll your hips just close enough. You don't even have to reach down to touch yourself, your hands curling in your sheets as you watch him through hooded eyes.

“Please,” it's a desperate plea so quiet you don't think he's heard you. But although he does not move from his spot by the window you can picture what it would look like if he did. Your legs spread like he was right there between them with his nose brushing up your sensitive skin closest to where you need him the most. And yet all he does is watch; the ghost of his imaginary touch so close before you're barreling into reality.

The feeling of waking is similar to being feverish. Clammy skin and aching joints like you've been brought back to life instead of reminded that he's not real. But the feeling only lasts a few seconds before the lust washes over you again, eyes finding the empty space he should be and isn't. It's hard to fall back asleep, tossing and turning, craving a man who doesn't exist. The only thing that can satiate you is getting off to the thought of him, your climax better alone thinking of him than when you've ever been with someone else.

This is one of taehyuns favorite ways to feed. the desperation is palpable as you work yourself up, your climax coming off you in waves when it finally crashes. you'll look over to where he should be blinking like it will make him appear and he's always so tempted to let you see him, knowing one kiss and you would be so willing.

But he wanted you to feel tortured over not having him, so much so that the second he made himself known outside of a dream you wouldn't think twice before letting him take you for all you were. The chase was his favorite part; playing with his food like a cat with his little mouse, so unsuspecting. Of course he was not fully satisfied only watching but he knew the second he went in it would only be better because of the wait.

Every night he was waiting by your window, watching the way you arched your back, hips sinking into the mattress, every sweet moan beckoning him. He watched the way his dreams affected you, that sweet serenity on your features when you saw him standing there begging him; beckoning him.

He watches even when you're awake, the moon hanging in the inky sky as you work at your desk. You never open the window, at least not since he's started to come around. He remembers that first night he heard you, alone in bed trying and failing to get off, just his presence so close helped finally push you over the edge. Your eyes screwing shut, every sound leaving you intoxicating enough to bring him back.

Tonight it's as if you can see him waiting, your eyes finding his spot over and over so much so you get little work done at all. And then you open the window.

It's not like he can't get in if you don't let him, it's just a rule he's set up for himself when around you. Waiting for something to break in the cycle before taking the next step and now your curtains are catching the wind; a white flag waving to call a truce to a game you didn't even notice you were playing with him.

He swears he is only going to step inside and watch, let his dream work on you like it always did but as soon as he stepped to the edge of your bed he couldn't think of anything else besides putting his hands on you.

Even in your dream he was so close to you, finally there at the foot of your bed instead of the window. Now out of the shadows you can make out more of his features, catching sight of the wings on his back, the inky black feathers always blending into the darkness.

“Please, please,” each word a rock thrown at the broken window masquerading as his resolve.

“You always look so pretty begging for me,” his knuckles running over your cheekbone, your head turning to try and chase the feeling.

In reality he watched the way you mimicked the movement, the sheets of your bed tangled between your legs, rustling with each turn of your thigh. Soft hums breaking into sleepy words, “i-i want…”

“Hum?” in the quiet of the room the hum echoed between you two. But even in your dream you could hear him.

“I want you, i-,” he arched his brow as you cut yourself off but you were distracted by the pad of his thumb brushing under your eye, lashes fluttering as you lost your thoughts, “i need you,”

“Do you?” his thumb followed the line of your nose dipping down to your waiting lips, tracing them like a memory.

“Yes,” your head dipping just enough to be seen in reality.

He leaned down over your sleeping form, his lips just ghosting over yours, your body mimicking the way it was in your dream trying to catch the kiss before he thought better of it. But being this close wouldn't stop him now, he had never wanted someone as bad as he wanted to have you.

The second his lips pressed to yours it was like a blanket of calmness, knowing he would take care of you without any need for worry. But as much as you wanted more than a simple kiss he pulled away tracing his nose along your jaw and down your neck. Lips pressed to your hammering pulse, hand sneaking down to press against the fabric of your panties. You can feel his grin against your skin, fingers feeling along the wet outline of you, circling your clit.

It's then that you wake up, for a split second your body tenses softening when he speaks.

“Its okay,” he whispered, nose pressed to your ear, “there's no need to be scared i know exactly how to take care of you,”

You reach out for him, tentatively running your fingers against his smooth warm skin, following the lines of his muscles. “Are you real?”

He gives a soft chuckle nose dipping to brush yours, “more than real,” and this time he completely devours you in a kiss.

Its an all consuming kind of kiss, your hands coming up to twist in his hair needing him closer, your legs spreading as he adds more pressure to your clit. When you open your mouth and his tongue touches yours you feel warmth spread from the contact. The taste of him makes you crave more, feeling feverish to keep as close as you can get to him. Even in the time that you dreamt of him you never felt a craving like this. This temptation has haunted you, reaching out for the apple night after night.

Taehyun pushes your panties aside feeling along your slick folds; so much wetter after having tasted him, his saliva already working to make you needier. He kisses down your chest pushing down your tank top to swirl his tongue around your nipple, your back arching to push into him. He can feel your arousal coursing through your body, the hum of it right there under his hands, fueling him to keep going.

He pulls away dipping his head down between your legs like you've wanted him to do after every dream you've had. His wet lips leave trails of kisses up your inner thighs before pulling your panties down all together.

The moan that leaves you the moment his mouth is on your clit is shocking. He licks up your wetness devouring you as you pull on his hair, hips jerking as you ride his face. And he lets you, moans sending vibrations through your core, one hand reaching up to tug on your nipple and the other wraps around your thigh to hold you open. He sucks deeply on your clit, your head rolling back, a silent moan leaving you before you're falling into your first orgasm.

He knows exactly how much he needs to to lick to get you there, can feel and anticipate everything it would take. The feeling is a tidal wave over him, the rush of feeling fed for the first time in a long time. Not the little bits he's gotten from watching from afar, no, something that makes him even hungrier than he initially was before.

He hums in the back of his throat, he pushes two fingers into you collecting your wetness watching the way when he pulls them out the strings of your arousal clings to them. “I love the way your body reacts to me, look at it,” he shoves his fingers into his mouth groaning, “you taste like you were made for me,”

Your whine in response, knees falling open wider as you watch him push down his trousers. Just seeing the mere sight of his size has you clenching around nothing. “I don't know if-”

“It will fit and if it doesn't i'll make it fit,” he leaves no room for questions, hand wrapping around his veiny shaft, beads of precum already on his tip. He's a sight to behold in front of you. The way the moonlight hits his tanned skin, makes the feathers on his wings shine, muscles flexing as he pumps his cock, kneeling over you like a fallen angel.

He leans over you letting a droplet of his spit drop down onto your waiting cunt, the natural effect of the aphrodisiac already having worked on you but the more he added would make the experience more pleasurable.

Hooking his hand into the pit behind your knee he pushes your leg up the head of his cock bumping your entrance before pushing through. Even just the tip feels like a stretch you won't ever be able to replicate. The soft whine leaving you turns into an open mouthed moan as he inches in. not even halfway in and you're feeling the pressure pressed against your gummy walls, your hands reaching out to grab at his arm, nails digging into his skin. “You're already doing so good,” he praises, pulling out just a bit before pushing in all the way.

“Oh god-” you moan as he grabs your other leg and when you think you can’t feel him any deeper he's letting your legs catch in the crook of his elbows, pushing you legs wider, pushing in until you can feel him in your throat.

“Look at that, you did so good taking all of me,” he leans down until his nose is brushing yours catching your mouth with his, “tell me does it feel as good for you as it does for me? So warm and inviting,”

“yes,” you nod, feeling the weight of him as he starts to pump in and out of you. So far in you can feel him in your stomach taking control over your body. Your arms wrap around his neck, nails scratching down his back as he pounds into your wanting pussy. Hips knocking yours as he keeps up his pace.

Taehyun didn't want to lose control but he's never felt this good while feeding. Every sound, every touch, the way you felt wrapped around him was sending him spiraling, a deep rumble rippled in his chest as he took over. Your orgasm builds in the pit of your stomach, white hot and uncontrollable.

You can't even think straight anymore except that you don't want any of this to stop, not now, not ever. The echo of your skin slapping together a soundtrack to your pleasure, his lips sucking marks onto your extended neck as he muttered sweetly, “so patient waiting for my cock, touching yourself while you thought about me hum? Imagining what it would be like if I got my hands on your pretty pussy, what it would feel like if I circled your clit until you came,” and its like hestalking the dreams back into reality, the feeling of his fingers on you just like before without him ever touching you, tracing the lines of your body, rubbing your clit until you're seeing spots. You cannot tell what is real or not anymore before you feel yourself break. You're trembling as you cum trying to find anything to hold onto, scratching up his back as your pussy pulses, sucking him in, thighs trembling.

It's the pure unadulterated lust pouring out of you and into him that makes his moan come from deep inside of him. His body stilling as his cock twitches, hips as close as he can get them to yours before he spills his hot cum deep inside you. He's never felt so much cum leave his body before, never knew what it felt like to be fully satiated when it came to a feeding.

You're a whimpering mess as he pulls out, hips still jerking, pulse found right against your clit. You can feel your combined release sliding down your legs, puddling on the mattress as he gently kisses down your chest and stomach coming back down between your legs to look at how he ruined you.

“You did so well for me,” he smiles, lips brushing your clit with each word as you try to scurry away from the overstimulation. But he's not so kind as to notice instead licking up your folds, sucking on your puffy clit watching the way you thrashed, tears right on the edge of your lashes until he pulls away. “I don't think I could have anyone better to feed from,” he grins, lifting himself up, wings spreading open behind him before he leans down to kiss you again, the taste of the two of you mixing on your tongue. “Would you like it if I came back again and again?”

“Please,”

🏷 taglist: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @stwq2349 @isa942572  @tomorrowxforever @beestvng @soobingf-blog @lovinjjong @lola-horore-553  @cypher-03 @midnight-mochii @hueningwhy @choibeomning @soobinbunnie5  @yunjinswifee @cupidtaehyun @bamgeutsz @prince-jjae @nessaassen02 @iluvhyukaa @mrsjohnnysuh

#taehyun x reader #txt taehyun #taehyun smut #kang taehyun #taehyun #txt smut #txt #txt fanfic #tomorrow x together #yeonjun #huening kai #beomgyu #txt x reader #soobin #kpop smut #kinktober

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nyctoaerah · 6 months ago

Text

⋆♱⋆DOLL SMITTEN

SYPNOSIS: In which, Suguru Geto can’t bear to let you go and was unable to accept your death, so he made a doll version of you instead.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Dark themes, Disturbing things, Stalking, Unhealthy Obsession, Slight Gore, Suguru is a total creep, not so normal ‘dolls.’

PAIRINGS: Yandere! Suguru Geto x Fem! Reader

SERIES MASTERLIST

━━━━𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒.

━━━━𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 them earlier to “attend to important business” probably to massacre some non-sorcerers — or some of the curse collecting monkeys had come, the hasaba twins grew bored in his absence.

It was dreary outside the manor walls after all.

But it was more boring inside.

Thus, the twins had wandered the sunny courtyard, swatting lazily at browning blossoms drifting down from the gnarled cherry trees and played some idle games to waste time, but fuck, was it pure torture not having suguru for two reasons.

One, they had no one to bother.

Two, there’s currently no electricity.

And damn, did they missed Suguru.

“How boring,” Nanako grumbled, coffee colored eyes heavy with discontent as they drifted towards her sister. Mimiko lay nearby, back pressed on a tree with her eyes fluttered closed and her small doll hugged tightly to her chest that heaved with every breath.

Nanako pouted to see that her sister was already adapting in suguru’s absence.

“C’mon, mimiko! don’t sleep on me yet,” Nanako implored with a slight whine, as she placed a hand on the brunette’s shoulder and began to shake.

At the sound, Mimiko opened her eyes, long lashes fluttering up.

“I know... we’ve got nothing to entertain us,” she said with a sigh to match her sister’s mood.

“So let’s just sleep instead.”

“Boring!”

Nanako said as her eyes scanned the sky, looking at the clouds and trying to find anything stimulating when a question suddenly popped unbidden into her mind.

“Mimiko,” She called out. “Have you ever wondered about Master Geto and why he always kept his room locked?” she asked.

At the name, Mimiko’s brow furrowed deeply in thought, her gaze drifting away slightly as she contemplated about nanako’s words.

It was true that suguru had always kept his room locked, and no one was permitted entry to his private place.

“Like, aren’t you curious?” she asked, tipping her head in a way that caused strands of caramel to spill over her slender neck.

“I mean, why would he keep it locked all the time?”

She leaned back against the old oak tree, placing both hands behind her neck in a leisurely stretch.

Mimiko tightened her arms around the doll in her lap, peering at her twin from beneath long lashes.

“Come on, nanako... stop insinuating stuff,” she scoffed, though a spark of curiosity flickered in her eyes despite her words.

“We should respect Master Geto’s privacy.”

Nanako pouted theatrically, jutting her bottom lip out in a look Mimiko knew meant trouble — the girl was probably planning on snooping on suguru’s room.

“I’m not! I hold him in the highest regard! I love him too much to talk shit about him��

“Well then, if you hold him in high regards then learn to respect his privacy.” she muttered, wanting desperately to change the subject but unable to look Nanako in the eye.

Although, mimiko is curious, and as tempting as it was to give in to curiosity, she knew better than to poke her nose where it didn’t belong.

Mimiko gave nanako a dismissive wave, but nanako just wouldn’t budge.

“Indulge me just a little, Mimikoooo!”

“Can’t a girl be curious...?”

Mimiko rolled her eyes, trying her best to ignore the images that now flashed behind her lids — images of what stuff they might find in his room.

“Fine, fine,” she sighed, shoulders slumping

“I do admit that at times i kind of wondered about it..” Mimiko admitted slowly,

“but i mean, he has every rights to keep it locked. and want no one to enter. It’s his room after all.” Another heavy sigh escaped her.

“Mimiko, what if Master Geto is hiding a dildo in his room?” Nanako blurted out bluntly, her words dropping like a bomb.

Mimiko’s eyes widened in disbelief, her head whipping around to face her sister.

“What.” Mimiko looked flabbergasted as she stared at Nanako as if she had just sprouted a third eye. The idea seemed ludicrous, almost comical in its absurdity.

What the hell is wrong with nanako?

And why on earth would it matter if Suguru had a dildo hidden away in his room?

“What would he even do with a dildo? I mean, he has a...” Mimiko’s sentence trailed off abruptly as she let out a frustrated sigh, her hand meeting her forehead in exasperation.

“Even if he did have one, it’s none of our business,” Mimiko stated firmly, trying to reason with her sister.

“Come on, Nanako, we really shouldn’t be talking about this kind of thing, it’s wrong — we’re underage for fuck’s sake...”

“Hmph...” Nanako huffed, she knew that Mimiko had a point.

They both knew they shouldn’t be discussing this. Suguru would probably give them a stern scolding if he ever caught wind of the conversation.

The image of Suguru, standing with his arms crossed, delivering at least three hours detailing every reason invading his privacy was wrong flashed through Nanako’s mind, making her suppress a giggle.

But then, the urge to satisfy her curiosity was too strong to resist.

“What if we just...” Nanako’s voice trailed off as she leaned in closer to Mimiko, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips.

“Sneak into his room?”

Mimiko’s expression was a mix of disbelief and trepidation as she stared at her sister.

“Nanako, shut up.” she finally said, her tone firm and resolute.

“We are not going to sneak into master geto’s room.” Mimiko knew the consequences of such a risky move, and she wasn’t about to entertain the idea.

Nanako raised an eyebrow, a stubborn pout forming on her face.

“Come on, Mimiko, I know you’re curious too," she insisted, reaching out to grasp Mimiko's wrist and gently tugging her.

“Quit it. Invading master Geto’s private space is crossing a line.”

“Nuh-uh. You’re just as curious as I am and you know it. We’ll be really careful — he’ll never find out. Please, Mimiko!”

Mimiko frowned, hesitating as her sister's contagious excitement took hold. Part of her did yearned to satisfy their curiosities, even if it was risky. But she knew Suguru’s strict rules were for good reason.

But then...

Surely, they won’t be in trouble if they did sneaked in his room, right?

As long as suguru won’t find out.

Mimiko sighed loudly, her narrow shoulders drooping with the weight of exhaustion as she eyed Nanako.

She wanted to refuse, but nanako’s puppy dog eyes and pleading smile were hard to resist.

Mimiko bit her bottom lip as she considered giving in, wondering if exploring was really worth the risk of getting in trouble if they were caught. She let out an annoyed groan, dragging out the sound to further express her reluctance.

“Fine, whatever. We’ll go,” Mimiko said with another sigh. Nanako squealed delightedly and bounced up and down on the balls of her feet.

“But how are we even supposed to get in? You know that master geto padlocks his door everytime.”

“Ah don’t worry about that,” Nanako replied with a mischievous grin, waving her hand dismissively. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a bobby pin, holding it up between two slender fingers.

“I’ve gotten pretty good at using these bad boys to jimmy open locked doors. We’ll be inside that room in no time, just wait and see!”

Mimiko looked at nanako with a deadpan.

“Nanako, you’re a menace.”

━━━━𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋, 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐒

Nanako’s fingers fumbled clumsily with the bobby pin, a tumult of trepidation, enthusiasm, and anticipation, swirled chaotically within her, sending flutters of anxiety coursing through her veins.

Fuck, why is she suddenly nervous about this?

Taking a deep, steadying breath to quell the queasiness in her stomach, she pressed on, jimmying the pin with shaking hands until she heard a soft click as the lock gave way.

Beside her, Mimiko clutched her doll tightly, as her brown eyes peered nervously in Suguru’s bedroom.

Suguru’s room was tidy and sparse, as was his way — books neatly lined the shelves, papers stacked in orderly piles upon his desk. Her gaze drifted to the photographs taped to the far wall, snapshots of them.

All seemed normal here.... Nothing out of ordinary.

“i think... i’ll be staying here outside.. as look out.” mimiko said.

“you sure?”

“mhm.”

“okay then...” nanako mumbled as she took a deep breath.

Stepping further within, Nanako’s eyes suddenly widened as they locked at the floor-to-ceiling collage affixed to the wall above Suguru’s work table.

It was strange.

Among the framed pictures hung neatly on Suguru’s wall, one photograph caught Nanako’s eye. She stepped closer for a better look.

Within the frame was a girl with [H/c] hair and [E/c] eyes. However, her face is scarred. Like really scarred.

Who is that girl?

Intrigued, Nanako’s gaze flitted hither and thither, assimilating further details.

Nanako gawked, for there were numerous photos of the same maiden were strategically arranged.

Her gaze drifted at another photograph, the same girl again, wrapped in a laugh as Suguru hoisted her onto his back.

A third snapshot looked like a stolen shot though . It showed in suguru feeding the [H/c] haired girl a puff of blue cotton candy, unaware her moment with Suguru had been seized by his camera lens without her knowing.

There was a polaroid showed the girl clad in Suguru’s oversized clothes, appearing snug and at ease, while Suguru gazed at her with an unmistakable adoration in his eyes, a love so evident it seemed to leap off the photo.

And as Nanako continued to peruse the photos, a sense of unease began to settle within her.

One snapshot depicted the girl peacefully asleep in her bed, another showed her lathering under the shower’s cascading water, and yet another captured her nonchalantly eating a meal.

In one particularly unsettling image, the girl was giggling alongside another man, his face blurred out with a bold red ‘x’ mark, his blonde hair contrasting sharply with Suguru’s dark locks.

Counting now, there must have been nearly a dozen photographs featuring this one girl prominently. And yet Suguru had never breathed a word of her existence.

Who the hell is this girl?

Whenever Mimiko and herself pried for juicy dating deets — or literally anything about suguru’s love life, he would wave them off, insisting his love life was dull as a doornail

So what gives?

Who was occupying so much valued wall space in Suguru’s private quarters?

And why the secrecy?

Nanako’s body suddenly jolted as Mimiko’s voice cut through her reverie.

“Nanako,” her sister called out again, an undercurrent of alarm rippling beneath the surface of her normally calm tones.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Nanako dragged her eyes away from the unsettling Polaroid on the wall.

Her gaze trailed across the floorboards until coming to rest upon Mimiko’s petite form, hunched defensively over a large drawer.

“What?” Nanako began, the single syllable emerging as little more than a hollow rasp.

“Look at this.”

“Look at what—” Yet before she could continue, words failed her entirely. For as Mimiko wrenched open the drawer with a force that belied her slight frame, a ghastly sight was revealed that turned Nanako’s blood to ice water in her veins.

Clasped loosely in Mimiko’s grip was a life-sized doll—its lifeless porcelain features contorted into a rictus of torment, wisps of tangled [h/c] locks spilling over slender shoulders.

...

Fuck, it was the same girl in the picture.

...

The unblinking stare of those glassy eyes unsettled Nanako far more than any picture ever could.

What the hell possessed suguru to recreate another in such a voyeuristic manner? Nanako’s thoughts whirled with confusion as Mimiko wrinkled her nose.

“Blegh.. this one smells so bad...” she remarked, hefting the doll away.

Nanako winced — for it was true, there was the cloying stench emanating from its sodden dress, the putrid scent of decay and something even darker she dared not name.

“I didn’t knew master geto liked dolls... but he had a shitty taste in them..” mimiko said bluntly.

Nanako crept forward, crouching low to examine the doll more closely. As she lifted it to inspect further, the unmistakable stench of decay assaulted her senses, and she has to breathe through her mouth to ignore the shitty smell. Cunning crimson stains marred the fabric, and it looked like it hasn’t been washed for ages.

“It looks so shitty... And smelly... It looks like it’s in need for some stitching...” Nanako turned towards mimiko. “don’t you think so?”

“I’m certain I could have repaired this for Master Geto, had he only asked,” Mimiko continued, though Nanako’s mind reeled with confusion.

She was still feeling creeped out, because not only did Suguru keep countless images chronicling his obsession, but he also had a life sized doll of the girl...?

Her eyes traced the staining to a zipper hidden amongst the matted fabric. A dreadful premonition took hold as she grasped the zipper between her fingers. she pulled the zipper down slowly—and froze, petrified by what lay beneath the veil.

There, curled amidst the stuffing, was not cotton nor fluff, but viscera and gore of flesh once living.

human flesh.

━━━━𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐒

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 || 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓

𝐀/𝐍: this story is gonna be much more darker than my other fics:333 and no, it’s not gonna focus on suguru being obsessed with the doll, it’s gonna be diff soon bcs the reader’s soul is inside the doll. aswell as her body.

𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐏𝐀𝐃 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍: faster updates here.

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬, 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝.♡

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dollfacefantasy · 3 months ago

Text

ADD TO THE COLLECTION ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: rick finds an old halloween mask out on a supply run. he brings it back to you, and the two of you put it to good use

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, mask kink, praise/degradation, cnc sorta

a/n: yes i wrote another ghostface mask kink fic. idc idc. you can pry that idea from my cold dead hands. every single man i simp for will have one if it's the last thing i do <3

kinktober slot: day 4 - mask kink

"Ew. You know that thing probably has like a billion diseases, right?" you say, a wide smile spreading across your face as you look at the raggedy Halloween mask in your boyfriend's hand.

The slender, pale face stares back at you with its motionless expression of horror. You hadn't seen one of them in a long time. Certainly not since the world went to shit.

"A billion? I don't know about that. Maybe a million," he teases.

Rick enters the room and approaches where you sit on the bed, wanting to show off his find from the supply run a bit more.

"Don't bring it too close to me. I don't wanna catch something," you say with a hand raised in defense.

"So dramatic," he mocks, "I'm not gonna put it on you."

The wooden floor creaks below his boots as he steps to the edge of the mattress. He sits down, the foamy surface dipping with the addition of his weight.

You can't help leaning forward a little bit out of curiosity. Scooting closer to his side, you look between his face and the mask.

"Were you guys raiding a Spirit Halloween or something?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He chuckles. His hands rotate the mask between them. It actually isn't in horrible condition. Maybe a little dusty, but there aren't any huge stains or tears. Visions of him wearing it rise to the front of your mind. You could imagine his head turning, the hollow black eyes following you as he watched your figure move about. The thin fabric fanning out over his shoulders also comes up. Your favorite though is the thought of how it would look above you while he thrusts in and out of you.

Shaking those images out of your head, you refocus when he answers your question.

"No, nothin' like that. I just saw it and thought of you," he tells you, turning his head and pecking your cheek, "I remembered you tellin' me how you used to love those movies."

You almost visibly swoon. "That's so sweet. Slasher movies make you think of me," you coo, "How did I get so lucky?"

Your arms slide up and drape around his neck, bringing you closer so you can nuzzle the side of his face. His skin scratches at you a little bit. The prickle of stubble was rising again.

He returns your affection and pushes the mask aside in favor of pulling you into his lap. The two of you melt into each other and then back onto the bed. One of the perks of living in Alexandria now was not having to wait until everyone fell asleep for the night to go at it.

Rick could be so soft for you. Ever since the two of you met, he seemed so naturally protective. He always lets you hold his hand. Your safety was his top priority along with that of his kids. Before the world went bad, you'd bet he was the kind of guy to hold the door open on dates and call women "miss" or "ma'am."

You're pretty sure that's why you want to see him in that mask so bad.

You knew Rick had another side to him. Something beneath the mask of being the good guy. You'd seen it before a few times. The nights where he ended up soaked in someone else's blood, the sticky crimson liquid coating his facial hair, staining his clothes.

A week after he first found that mask, he comes to your room at night wearing one of the pieces of clothing that's been marred with someone else's insides.

The mask over his face has been cleaned. He clearly washed away the dust and any other sign of mileage on the thing. The ivory plastic front shines without a spot of grime while the black fabric draped atop his hair sits there, dark as the night sky outside.

It's a sharp contrast to the white t-shirt he has on. The cloth pours down his neck and over his shoulder onto the light garment. But the abdomen of this top isn't as pristine as the collar. Blood speckles across the snowy threading, the pattern spatters in a way that makes it look like one of those ink blot tests. If you were the one being questioned, you'd say it looks sort of like a tree.

He stands there against the frame of the doorway in silence, waiting to be noticed. You had been cleaning your boots. When you finally finish, you rise from your spot on the edge of the bed and tuck them in their normal spot against the wall. Sighing, you lean back and prepare to finally have nothing left on your to-do list.

But you feel the other presence in the room. You catch him in your peripheral vision, and a gasp tears through you. Your heart springs from a calm resting beat to erratic thrashing against your ribcage. Thoughts melt from your head while breaths grow spikes in your lungs.

Once you turn your head fully and give your brain a second to register that it's only him, you start to calm down. You let out a deep sigh and put your hand across your chest.

"God, don't do that," you huff, "You scared me."

He doesn't respond.

You continue to catch your breath before looking over at him again. Your eyes scan up and down his figure. He leans against the wall so casually. His arms cross over his chest while his ankles hook one on top of the other below. Even though you can't see his gaze, you can feel the intensity of his pupils on you.

"You're lucky I didn't have my gun on me," you tell him and narrow your eyes.

Again, you get no words out of him. But this time he does push off the edge of the entryway and step forward. He swings the door shut behind him and continues to stare you down.

It's weird. Having him just stand there, digs a pit in the bottom of your belly. For a split second, your mind floats the possibility that this isn't him. The paranoid sector of your head poses questions like what if this was someone else who just found the mask? What if they just looked like Rick?

But then his arms drop from his chest and you see the silver of his watch glimmer in the pale moonlight.

It doesn't kill the tingling in your nerves any; rather, it transforms the sensation. It's a different kind of strange seeing Rick act like this. It wasn't the version of him that came out for a true threat. He was never so silent when that was the case. In moments of desperation, he became feral - eyes darting around, limbs taut with the preparedness to strike. But that's when you realize this isn't a moment of desperation. He's the one in control. He's the threat in this situation.

"You're not even gonna try to run, little girl?" he asks, his voice coming out in that familiar drawl but with a little edge to it.

Your spine lights up like a fuse. Excitement seeps into your bones. Everything feels jittery. You don't know what to do or say. In this moment, you just want.

"You're in the way. I don't have anywhere to run," you say. Your voice waivers almost as if you naturally fall into the role of the helpless victim.

It's weird hearing yourself like that. In the world you lived in, you never wanted to sound like that. Showing weakness meant death. And hearing it from someone you loved meant their time was coming to end. Being able to express it now though, it felt different. You weren't sure how to articulate it, but that could be due to the fact that you'd never been so turned on before in your life.

He approaches you further. The wooden floor boards creak beneath his slow steps. You try to back up but your knees hit the mattress.

"No runnin'? You're gonna make this too easy for me," he chuckles, "Put up a little fight."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. He leans in closer to you, reaching up to drag his fingers down your cheek. You try to lean back but end up having to sit on the bed and scoot away on the mattress to create some distance.

He just laughs and grabs your ankle, preventing you from getting too far. You try wriggling your leg a little bit, but he tightens his grip and grabs the other one.

"Tsk, tsk. Pathetic," he taunts, "You're just gonna let me take what I want?"

You try kicking a little harder, but it's of no use. Each jerk of your leg goes to waste. Nothing changes. There would be no difference if you didn't move at all and just made what he said true.

"So cute," he mocks, "Just tirin' yourself out for me."

"It's not fair," you whine. You roll yourself onto your belly and try to drag yourself away by grabbing the edge of the bed. He doesn't let you though. Even though Rick was lean, he didn't lack strength. That coupled with his training as a pre-apocalypse police officer meant he knew how to restrain people. You whimper and buck your hips to try and create some momentum to get away, but it's all of no use.

"You cheated. You didn't give me a chance to run," you continue to pout before repeating your prior sentiment, "Not fair."

He laughs and whips you around onto your back again. This time he leans forward and tugs your hips harshly, dragging you over the collection of blankets so that your ass is flush against his semi-hard bulge.

"Who said I have to play fair, princess?" he asks, "Weak little thing like you wouldn't have made it far anyways."

Another whine bubbles from your lips as you squirm. He looms over you, keeping you accessible to him with the weight of his body. As he closes in, your breathing becomes heavier. The white ghostface stops inches away from the tip of your nose. You stare into the expressionless eyes of the match while your cunt throbs against the heat of his pelvis.

"You're lucky I caught you here. Spares you the embarrassment of getting dragged back, kicking and screaming. Or even worse, me pounding you into the grass out there where anyone could see," he breathes.

You shudder at the images his words create in your head.

He can feel the tremble of your limbs, and he pushes the mask up slightly to bare his lips. For a second, you think he's going in for a kiss. And in a way, that's true. But it's not on your mouth. Instead, he ducks down to your throat. He attacks it with fervor much more intense than what you usually felt from him.

These kisses are hot and open-mouthed. The tip of his tongue tickles your pulsing skin. His lips feather against it while his teeth nip and tug. All you can do is melt under it. You try to keep in character and put up a bit of resistance, but it's not a strong performance.

His fingers hook over the top of your little sleep shorts and panties and pull them down to your mid-thigh. That was all the room he needed. His hand not clutching one of your biceps slides down between your thighs. He can feel the slick on his fingers in seconds, and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh, you're a bad girl, aren't you? The slightest bit of attention, and you're dripping. I didn't even have to do anything," he says.

After those words hit your ears, he pulls back. He tugs your shorts all the way off to free your legs before he shoves his jeans down far enough that his length can spring free. He's almost fully hard. The sight of your slippery cunt makes it easier to take it from almost to solid.

He strokes it and watches you. It's obvious how ready you are, but he can't help but want to draw it out a little more.

"Take off your top," he commands.

Your breath hitches, and you swear you feel your heart stutter. Of course, he'd seen you naked before, but it felt new here. This wasn't Rick's cool blue eyes gazing down at you with love. It was the dark, empty patches of painted plastic.

Nevertheless, your hands venture down and peel your shirt from your body. Once it's gone, your tits are left exposed to his view. He doesn't touch them, and you can't see if he stares directly at them, but it feels like he does.

He pumps his cock a little faster. A small groan rumbles from his mouth.

"I don't even have to say it twice. You didn't even need to see my face to listen. I either have you so well-trained, or you're just the most natural slut out there, babydoll. Just waiting for orders to follow like a little puppy," he rasps.

He pushes forward and slides his leaky tip against your folds. A small whine sneaks out of you at the pressure on your clit. The head nudges it before gliding down toward your entrance again where it pops in.

You both hiss at the feel. On his part, you're already so warm and tight. For you, it's the mild stretch combined with the satisfaction of having something inside you. Either way, it's just a taste of what's to come.

He sinks in more, guiding the rest of his shaft into your pussy. Whimpering, you arch your back off the bed the tiniest bit. His hand lands on your tummy and pushes you down again though. He forces you to take it all and then rocks his hips back and slams forward again.

"So sensitive," he teases.

His hands curl around your hips before he starts thrusting. Like the earlier kisses, his pelvis snaps against you with more force than usual. Your eyes roll back from the bouncing rhythm while your fingers clutch the linens beneath you.

"Poor baby. You never had any fight in you to begin with," he teases, "You give in so easily."

"It- it's not my fault," you whimper. More moans seep out of you. It feels like every slap of skin on skin knocks a new noise from you.

"Oh yes it is," he grunts, "You didn't even try because you want this. You just wanna be filled up. Don't even care who's doing it."

As he says that, your hazy eyes look up at the mask. "Do too..." you pout.

Your walls squeeze around him tight at the sight of the haunted face watching you. It bobs a little with his motions as well, shaken by the force of them.

He laughs at you from beneath the mask and speeds up a little. You clench around him in tandem with your toes curling. He leans in and bends you further in half on the mattress.

"Ok sure, sweetheart. That's why you didn't even need to see my face before I slid my dick inside you," he breathes.

Your little clit throbs at the words. As if he can sense it, one of his hands rises to thumb at the nub. Your hips buck in response, eager for more. Deep, whiny sighs flood into the air from you. He can't get enough.

"That's right, keep squeezin' me, darlin'" he says, arousal infecting his tone now too.

You nod like you have a real say. The way he was battering your pleasure spots and swiping at your clit had you tightening up involuntarily. He still moans with the feeling though. His head tilts back. You can hear his panting getting louder below that mask.

A few strokes later, he reaches up and yanks it off, dropping it to the floor next to his boot. His hair hangs damp against his forehead while his cheeks are a little flushed from the heat. None of this stops him from fucking into you though. It's as if he can't stop. The chase for release captures him on a deeper level.

Even without the help of ghostface, his stare is intense. His pupils glare into you as he provides you with more pleasure than you know what to do with.

"You think you're gonna cum for me? Gush all over my cock?" he croons mockingly.

You nod. Your arm weakly flies up so you can grab at his wrist. "Need it, Rick," you whine.

He chuckles, a small smirk teasing his lips. "You can have it then. Let it go for me," he says.

Your hips buck in time with the next handful of whimpers that leave your lips. The climb to the top feels so fucking good. Your core sizzles up until it reaches a fever pitch and you explode into white hot pleasure. A low, satisfied hum reverberates from you as your eyelashes dust your cheeks.

He fucks you through the feeling, one hand on your throat, the other down at your clit, swirling around the small nub a few times to give you the extra boost. It makes you nice and tight around his dick. Your walls squeeze like a vise. He has no choice but to let go.

As desperate as he is to fuck it deep inside of you, he stops himself at the last second and pulls out. He grabs his cock at light speed before that feeling can vanish and pumps it at the same rhythm he'd been thrusting into you.

Warm, milky ropes of cum shoot out onto your belly. The splatter across your skin, glimmering in the cool light of the night. You force your eyes open when you hear his deep moan. You're almost certain you've never seen anything as beautiful as Rick's face when he releases. His brows furrow while his jaw relaxes. He parts his lips in a small o. You watch with droopy eyes, the haze of lust still not totally gone yet.

When he's finished, he stares down at you in a similar fashion. His hand cups the back of your neck so he can bring you up to give you a kiss before he goes and grabs a towel. The bloody shirt he'd been wearing is gone when he returns. He cleans the spend off your belly and then crawls back into bed with you.

You snuggle up to him, ready to close your eyes and conk out. But then you think of something.

"I knew it was you before you took off the mask," you say. The flesh of your cheek smooshes against this chest.

He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Cause your watch," you say proudly, as if you'd discovered some great clue.

The information registers but then his lips break into a grin. "Hmm, smart girl. I'll have to keep that in mind if I ever put on the mask for something secretive," he teases before yawning and tugging you closer to his side.

"Mhm, cause I'd figure you out right away," you murmur.

"I'm sure," he agrees, pressing a few kisses to your head. "Get some sleep, baby."

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes smut #rick grimes imagine #rick grimes x you #twd x reader #twd smut #twd imagine #twd x you #twd x y/n #ch: rick grimes 💌

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knoepfl · 3 months ago

Text

Perfectly Imperfect Love

Here we are again this time with our lovely Dottore! I noticed there seem to be a lot of people who like him (including myself) so this was a must! If you enjoy this and/or want to see other characters check out the Masterlist or/and write a comment or request for a character and I will be happy to do them!^^ Again the inspiration and the picture was from @devotion-disorder so check them out!!! Have fun^^

Masterlist

---

The sterile walls of the lab seemed colder than usual. At first, Il Dottore—the infamous Harbinger—was amused. His sharp gaze scanned the room filled with photos plastered from wall to wall. Dozens of them. Every picture contained your smiling face, radiating warmth and joy.

It wasn’t unusual for Dottore to obsess over things that intrigued him—and you were one of them. But then his expression stiffened. You weren’t alone in these photos. Another figure stood beside you in each one, arms draped over your shoulder, fingers intertwined with yours. They smiled down at you like they owned you.

The corners of Dottore’s mouth twitched as irritation boiled beneath his skin.

How interesting… What kind of experiment is this?

5 Minutes in:

He stood there, silent, his gaze dragging across each photo in unnerving detail. At first, he tilted his head, curiosity flickering in his red, glinting eyes.

“Hm… Strange,” he muttered. “How perfectly inconvenient.”

Dottore chuckled, a sound both sharp and dangerous. “A foolish attempt to get under my skin, is that it? How quaint.” He tapped his gloved finger against his chin, observing the way your head leaned against the stranger’s shoulder in one image, your hand caught in theirs in another.

“Sloppy work… But I can’t deny, it’s convincing.” His voice dropped to a whisper, a smile still gracing his face. “I wonder if you’d let them touch you like this.”

The mask of indifference cracked for just a moment as something vile flickered in his gaze—something possessive.

1 Hour in:

He was still standing in the same spot, staring at the photos with an unsettling intensity. The small grin on his lips had twisted into a sneer.

“Did you think you could run from me?” His voice dripped with venom, though he directed it more toward the photos than you.

He crossed his arms, tapping his fingers impatiently against his bicep. “These are fake… They must be. You wouldn’t betray me. Not after everything.”

His heart pounded beneath the cold exterior, irritation morphing into something more dangerous—doubt. And he hated it.

Dottore pulled one of the photos off the wall, his hands tightening until the paper crumpled under his grasp. Why does it bother me? Why does this stranger in the photo seem more real with each passing second?

A low, bitter chuckle escaped him. “What a fascinating experiment,” he muttered to himself, though his eyes betrayed his growing frustration. “I wonder… how much longer until I break?”

3 Hours in:

Dottore’s breathing was uneven now, each exhale coming in short bursts.

The room seemed to shrink around him, the walls closing in as his mind spiraled. His hands tugged at the mask over his face, as if trying to stop the intrusive thoughts that gnawed at him. He muttered your name under his breath—again and again—like a mantra to keep himself sane.

“It isn’t real,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “It can’t be. You would never leave me… You wouldn’t.”

He dragged his gloved hands down his face, nails biting into his skin through the material. His grin was wide, teeth bared like a wolf, but his eyes were wild—unfocused.

“And if it were real…” His voice dipped into a low, dangerous hum. “Then I’ll simply… correct it. Remove the imperfection. Yes… I could fix it.”

He laughed quietly, the sound brittle and laced with mania. He would find a way to erase whoever thought they could take you from him. He was the only one worthy of having you. Not them.

Never them.

6+ Hours in:

By now, the Dottore standing in that room was a different creature entirely.

He sat in the corner, legs sprawled out as he gazed at the photos on the walls, his mask lying discarded beside him. His grin stretched too wide, teeth gleaming beneath the dim light, and his red eyes shimmered with twisted delight.

“It’s not real…” he whispered, as if trying to convince himself. “Not real. Not real. Not real.”

But even if it was a lie, Dottore didn’t care anymore. His obsession had consumed him whole, leaving no room for rational thought. He pressed a hand to one of the photos, tracing your image with unsettling tenderness.

“Mine,” he murmured, his voice soft but unwavering. “You are mine. You’ve always been mine.” His words felt like a promise—and a threat.

He sat still for a moment longer, before his smile widened. “Ah… but I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

He stood abruptly, brushing off his coat with a calmness that didn’t match the crazed look in his eyes. “We’ll have to fix this. You won’t need them when you have me.”

He tilted his head, as if imagining your face when you saw him next—saw the mess he would make to bring you back to his side. “I’ll erase this blemish… and you’ll love me. Like you always should have.”

The Aftermath:

When the door to the room finally creaked open, you barely had a second to react.

Dottore was on you instantly, his gloved hands grasping your arms with a firm but oddly gentle grip. His eyes shimmered with a mixture of glee and relief, the madness beneath them bubbling just below the surface.

“Ah, there you are,” he whispered, his voice low and dangerous. “I knew you’d come back to me.” He pressed closer, ignoring the way your body stiffened under his touch.

Before you could say a word, his hands moved to cup your face, his smile a cruel mockery of affection. “Don’t worry, my dear,” he whispered, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “Those photos… they don’t mean anything. They were a mistake—an… illusion.”

His laugh was soft, but it held an edge sharp enough to cut. “You won’t need anyone else. Not anymore.”

And in that moment, you realized just how deeply you had fallen into Dottore’s web.

There was no escape from him now—no way to free yourself from the twisted obsession that bound you to him. Because in his mind, you were his.

Forever.

---

#fanfic #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #dottore x you #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore genshin #yandere x you #yandere male #male yandere #Dottore yandere #yandere dottore #yandere boyfriend #Dottore #genshin fanfic #Genshin Impact dottore

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leggerefiore · 5 months ago

Note

self aware pmex au prompt... accidentally poking them at somewhere weird like their chest or thigh to get their attention

cw: self aware/ddlc au, very short

character: Ingo, Emmet, Cyrus, Volo, Guzma, Grimsley, Rika, Steven Stone

▲Ingo▼

● He knows you are not aware that he is aware, but he cannot help the blush that spreads across his cheeks when poke his chest. Why…? He lets one of his generic game dialogues play since he has no idea how to process or react to what you did. Were you even aware? It seemed like a purposeful tap from his point of view... You even grinned? His “heart” raced in his chest. Did you know? You must have… He simply is too embarrassed to give any outward reaction, but internally, he is ever flustered by this. If you even dare touch his thighs, he might just crash the app with how many confused thoughts rush through his mind.

▽Emmet△

○ He giggles to himself when you tap his thighs. Oh? What was on your mind? He knew you were unaware that he was actually conscious, so this was something you must have done for your own amusement. His dialogue was something close to his preprogrammed ones, but somehow, with an undertone of flirting. He so desperately wished to openly tease you about it. But… Alas, he must be careful about how much he lets you know that he knows. So, he silently ponders why you did that, much like his brother. Though, while Ingo becomes so flustered by it, Emmet simply wishes for more. He knows you know what you did. If only he could safely question you on it. When he can, however, prepare for some unscrupulous comments.

🌌Cyrus🛰

☄️ He tenses up the second your finger taps at his chest. His distress does not actually cross his face, and he allows his preprogrammed generic dialogue to play. Why would … you do that? Did you suspect something? Was this to get a reaction out of him? Were you trying to figure him out and delete him? He refused to go out that easily. But… When he observed you more closely, he realised you were grinning. Not in a malicious, “got you” kind of way, but in a mode giddy, mischievous fashion. He wanted to sigh. It seemed you were still – thankfully – unaware of his consciousness, but you had some kind of fascination with him. Or his chest. He recalled some images of him that you had apparently liked online. It seemed… you must quite enjoy his design. Fine. That was fine. As long as he was in no danger of existential threat. (For now. When you do it again, he may find himself more perturbed. Why are you still doing that!?)

💫Volo📜

⭐️ When you poke his thighs to catch his attention, he cocks up a brow. My, what was this? Interest? He certainly hoped so. He was fully aware that you seemed to like his character, but he pondered just how you would react to his consciousness. Whatever, he allowed himself to make some light teasing line about only doing things for a fee. His trousers quite exaggerated his thighs, so he supposed curiosity was a natural thing in response. He only wished he could do more than subtly make more direct comments, but he was not going to risk his precious existence just yet. That time was coming – especially if he kept observing your interest in him. Though, he wondered just what you would think when he wanted to pole at your thighs. His plans could not come faster, alas.

💀Guzma🕶

□ When you poke his chest to catch his attention in game, he does not hold back his comment about directly asking what you want instead of letting some generic dialogue string play. He was not doing a good job of hiding his sentience, but his general character made it harder to determine at least. Part of him was smug at your flustered reaction to his words, but another wanted to know why you poked his cheat in the first place. Did you want to feel it? He was pretty buff, he felt. He could understand the inclination. Guzma wanted to touch you horrible. Being some weird digital thing was obnoxious. He wanted to just talk to you, but he worried that you might delete him. That thought terrified him. Ugh, he would just keep things as they were for now. At least he felt confident in your interest in him.

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ When you poked his thighs to catch his attention, his gaze was instantly observing your face through the screen. He carefully detected your emotions – able to see through even the best poker face. Oh? You thought it was a bit funny, but was that also interest that he detected. Interesting. He grinned and gave a careful remark about seeking thrills. It was too tempting to just reveal his hand to you – to bet that you would not delete him and rather would be fascinated. The gambler felt the need to risk it all swirling inside him. But, he resisted. Self-control winning for once in his life. Instead, he sits smugly, aware that you are interested in him and wanting so badly to tease you about this. The time would come soon enough. He could not wait.

🌶Rika👔

🟤 She nearly jumps when you poke your chest. Of course, it is not like she can really “feel” it, but she saw where your finger went. After the initial surprise wears off, she lets some generic dialogue play from her. Internally, she was flustered by your actions, but outwardly, she would admit interest. So, you did like her? It had been her assumption from creeping through your phone, but an actual, more direct confirmation was a bit more onto her ego. The only issue was her fear of revealing that she was aware. You clearly still did not know (or at least she hoped you would poke her like that so casually if you were). What if you deleted the whole app? The last thing she wanted was to “die.” Rika knew she needed to really think of how to break the ice with you, but it was nerve-racking. Well, she was reassured, at least for now.

💍Steven💎

🪨 He was a bit confused by your actions. His… thighs…? He was not particularly… gifted there. He let his dialogue play about his usual fascination with rocks as he debated just what you were doing. It was intentional – that much he could determine. He would grow flustered by it, but he was not exactly easily affected by the kind of thing. Mostly, he assumed it was just a bit of a joke. You smiled after all. He really does shrug it off as you being bored and looking for small fun. He does not really give any reaction in the end. But, he does wonder if you are becoming more aware of his consciousness. He was still coming to terms with it, so he had yet to really speak with you properly. Desperately, admittedly. Maybe he should just bring it up.

#pokemon x reader #ingo x reader #emmet x reader #cyrus x reader #volo x reader #guzma x reader #grimsley x reader #rika x reader #steven stone x reader #pokemon/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #pokemon emmet x reader #pokemon cyrus x reader #pokemon volo x reader #pokemon guzma x reader #pokemon grimsley x reader #pokemon rika #pokemon steven x reader

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revelboo · 1 month ago

Note

HOLY HELP, SKYWARP WAS A MENACE IN YOUR LAST 'TRUE ROMANCE' UPDATE. I DID NOT EXPECT HIM TO PULL THAT MOVE 😭😭😭

He just doesn’t care 🤣

True Romance Pt 8

Seeker Trine x Reader

• Rolling through the clouds, condensation slicking him, Starscream watches the landscape go by. Trying to ignore Skywarp and Thundercracker bickering right behind him. As soon as he’d offered you a blanket after leaving the wash racks, you’d cocooned yourself in it and pointedly avoided making eye contact with all of them after Skywarp’s little self help session. And you were still doing it when they had to leave for patrol, shying away from them with a strained smile.

• Laughing, Skywarp flips upside down. Doesn’t know why his brothers are still annoyed with him. “I don’t see what the problem is. The pet liked it,” he mutters rocking sideways to avoid Thundercracker when he tries to smack him with a wing. Letting his processor wander, wondering what your softness would be like under him. What noises you’d make as he ruts against you.

• “Pretty sure that was horror, not lust,” Thundercracker growls, disgusted with his brother and the whole situation. All the progress they’d made getting you at ease around them gone in one stupid, impulsive move. And now your face just reddens whenever you look up at them, quickly averting your eyes. Even if you’d glanced back after Star had tried to shield you from Skywarp’s fun. Had that been just curiosity or had it been actual interest? He’s not sure and definitely not sure how he feels about it or the fact that you might be compatible with them.

• Growling softly, Starscream can’t shut out their conversation, but his processor keeps circling back to you. To the way you’d looked, what you’d tried to hide from their optics. From him. Human, alien to them, but not exactly unpleasant to look at once he’d gotten past the odd softness of you. “I’m just saying, pretty sure we could frag that,” Skywarp adds as Starscream vents raggedly. Because now he’s going to have to keep you from being left alone with Skywarp in case he decides to test his theory.

• They’d stuck you in the stupid drawer again. Draped in your blanket, your backs hits the wall as you slide down to sit. With no distractions, your mind keeps going back to your group shower. To Skywarp and the unwanted knowledge of their anatomy you now have. And the image of the purple Seeker’s head tipped forward, a hand splayed on the wall and the other gripping himself. Those red optics finding and holding your eyes as he stroked himself before Star had shifted you away and used his wings to try and shield you. And despite yourself, you’d looked again, because damn.

#transformers x reader #transformers seekers #starscream x reader #idw starscream #skywarp x reader #idw skywarp #thundercracker x reader #idw thundercracker

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prythianpages · 6 months ago

Text

There She Goes | Cassian

cassian x love witch reader | summary: You're determined to help Cassian find love. It is your specialty, after all. But Cassian finds himself falling for you.

warnings: none? this is fluff, I guess?

a/n: Though this is part of a series, it can be read as a stand-alone. Jumping a little ahead here to established friends (:

Cassian and Azriel strolled through the cobblestone streets of Velaris, the familiar warmth of the city wrapping around them like a comforting embrace after their trip to Windhaven. As they passed by the bakery, the irresistible aroma of freshly baked goods wafted out, tempting them and slowing their steps.

"Well, since we're passing by, we might as well indulge. " Cassian said, flashing a grin at Azriel.

“Support our local businesses.” Azriel nodded his head in agreement, mirroring his grin as if they had not purposely taken the longer path back to the town house. His shadows wrapped around the shop’s door handle, pulling it open and he gestured for Cassian to step inside first.

Cassian’s eyes lit up at the sight of the display case filled with pastries, his stomach rumbling in response. There was so much to choose from—from savory to sweet—and he craved both. But then his gaze fell on the heart-shaped strawberry tarts, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly his thoughts drifted to you.

Strawberries and heart-shaped objects were among your favorite things.

Granted, you had many favorite things, especially if they were pink. And if they were that tickle-me-pink shade—because yes, there are different shades of pink as you passionately taught him one night—well, that made them even better.

After buying a couple of tarts among a handful of other pastries, he could almost picture your delighted expression, and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through him. Something that did not go unnoticed by Azriel. “Didn’t know you liked tarts so much,” he commented.

“I always liked them.” Cassian replied, brushing off his friend’s curiosity.

Azriel’s gaze narrowed. “Since when?”

“Since now.”

Cassian shrugged, pulling one of the tarts from his bag and eagerly taking a bite. He closed his eyes for a moment, making a dramatic show out of proving his point right as a contented sigh escaped his lips.

Azriel’s eyebrows knitted together in a skeptical manner, but Cassian was relieved he didn’t pry further. His shadows, however, began to pulse with sudden craving, and Cassian glared at the one that curled itself around Azriel’s ear. Centuries of friendship with the Shadowsinger have given Cassian some insight into the behavior of Azriel’s shadows. Those sneaky little tendrils could be just as meddlesome as he was.

And Cassian has yet to tell his family about you.

Though you’ve been friends for a while, he’s hesitant to share this part of his life with them. It's not because he is embarrassed, but because he knows they’d bombard him with questions about you. They’d also be eager to meet you, undoubtedly curious about the person who has captured his attention. Cassian is sure they already suspect something is going on, and the way Azriel’s shadows keep eagerly fluttering around him makes him wonder if Azriel has already figured it out.

A selfish part of Cassian just wants to keep you to himself. For you to be his person—Cassian shakes his head at the thought, quickly correcting himself. He wants you to be his friend, and only his friend, for now. He isn’t ready to share you just yet.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he catches a glimpse of pink and his heart skipped a beat. His heart settled with a hint of disappointment when he realized that the pink had come from the cotton candy a vendor was selling.

Get a grip, Cas.

He heard your laughter next—or what sounded like it. There she goes, Cassian thought, his lips curving into a fond smile as his mind formed the image of you laughing. The way your eyes would light up, crinkling in an endearing manner as you tilted your head slightly back. And there she goes again, racing through his mind...

He could even picture you in this moment, walking gracefully through the plaza in another one of your pink outfits. A pink strawberry cardigan with light-colored pants and matching pink ballet flats. Wait a minute...

Cassian realized he wasn’t imagining things. That had been your laughter he heard. And you were, in fact, wearing a pink strawberry cardigan. Like a vision straight out of a dream.

You must’ve sensed him too because in a heartbeat, your head turned in his direction. A bright smile spread across your face. Cassian’s smile widened, his eyes softening and he couldn’t bring himself to care over the way Azriel’s gaze immediately shifted between you two, shadows whispering madly.

If there was one person that could keep a secret in the family, it’d be Azriel.

“Hey, Cas,” you greeted as you approached them. Your steps came to a stop and gaze shifted to Azriel.

A sense of panic had Cassian’s wings tensing as you regarded his friend.

Azriel had always been the most beautiful of their group. Many fae—females and males—flocked to him on the nights they’d successfully dragged Azriel to Rita’s. He was never short of suitors, and it seemed that he was always the first choice. It was something Cassian couldn’t help but be envious of, and the longer your gaze lingered on Azriel, the more his wings tensed.

“Hello! You must be Azriel. Cassian talks a lot about you and of Rhysa–the High Lord as well.” You corrected yourself, extending your hand out toward Azriel.

“Yes,” Azriel replied, side-glancing at Cassian as he politely shook your hand. “That’s funny actually because—”

Cassian elbowed Azriel, giving a subtle shake of his head. Don’t say anything, his eyes screamed at him. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes, choosing to clear his throat instead. “Because I am Azriel…”

“Right…”

“Anyway, it’s nice to finally meet you…,” Azriel trailed off, the corner of his lips tugging upwards into a faint smile as that sneaky shadow of his curled around his ear once more. “The one Cassian has been running off to a lot...”

Cassian turned his head to glare at Azriel in warning. He then turned his attention back to you. He watched as your gaze flickered between them both, then to the bags full of pastries they carried, before settling back on Cassian. He let out a small exhale, not realizing he had been holding his breath. The panic that had begun to seep in was now pushed away by relief.

You had not fallen victim to Azriel’s effortless charm. He wouldn’t have blamed you, if you had.

“I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

“Not at all.” Azriel replied for them and your eyes lit up.

You clasped your hands behind your back, shifting your weight from one foot to the other.

“Does that mean you’re free then?”

“Yes,” Azriel answered for Cassian again, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Mind if I steal him from you?” You asked Azriel, though your gaze had not wavered from Cassian.

“No, take him,” Azriel said, playfully shoving his friend your way. “You can keep him too.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ★ ˏˋ˗

The sounds of children laughing and playing filled the air, and the vibrant energy of the city seemed to mirror the tumult in Cassian's chest. “So, what did you need to steal me for?”

“Your company,” you replied simply, your smile warm as you watched the kids in the park. You missed the way your words made Cassian blush. “I missed you and was thinking about when you’d return. I got some updates for you…”

When he didn’t respond, you turned your head toward him, catching him staring at you with an intensity that took you aback. Your eyes met his with a curious, questioning look. Cassian quickly cleared his throat, attempting to mask his racing heart with a facade of nonchalance.

“I got you something.”

“You did?”

Cassian held up the pastry bag before opening it. He pulled out one of the strawberry tarts and that delighted expression he had imagined earlier came to life.

You gasped, drawing a genuine smile from his lips. “How did you know I love these?”

“I had a feeling,” Cassian said, nodding towards your cardigan, the shade of pink he had come to associate so closely with you.

“Well, thank you. You’re the best!”

Cassian’s wings fluttered behind him and he was grateful for the way you were distracted with the pastry to notice. But as you lifted your gaze back upwards, your eyes widened at something behind him. His muscles tensed when your hand suddenly gripped his arm, shorter form moving behind him.

“Hide me!” You hush-whispered and Cassian’s instincts were quick, using his free hand to push you further behind him, your forehead pressing into his back.

His gaze sharpened, senses on high alert, as he searched the area for danger.

“What is it?”

“See that fae over there? The one with silver hair and wearing bright green? That’s my ex. And the other fae right next to him is his mean wife, who is always unpleasant to bump into.”

Cassian’s eyes narrowed as he glanced at the couple you pointed out, who were slowly approaching where you both stood. He turned, keeping you hidden behind his broad form as they walked past you. Only when they were out of sight did you step around Cassian, resuming your place by his side. You let out a long breath, wiping the nonexistent sweat from your forehead that had him resisting the urge to chuckle.

You finally indulged in the sweet pastry in your hand, struck by the need of a sweet distraction from the stressful situation you narrowly avoided. You waited until you swallowed the first bite completely before speaking again.

“We dated for almost a year. He broke up with me because I was ‘too much.’ Guess he couldn’t handle me. Yet he can handle that crazy wife of his. Amazing what love does, isn’t it?”

There was no hint of bitterness in your tone. Only a soft, dreamy one that had Cassian’s jaw tightening slightly. “Amazing,” he echoed, though his thoughts were far from the admiration you harbored.

He couldn’t fathom how anyone could think you were too much. To him, you were just right. Perfect, even. He could never get enough of you. The idea that someone else had the chance to experience that, and had let you go, was… infuriating.

“They give me hope.”

“What?” Cassian couldn’t help but let out a snort, pushing past the emotion he dared not name as he looked at you.

You looked back at him in an incredulous manner. “They give me hope,” you said again. “They remind me that there is someone for everybody. That there will be someone for me too one day…Hey, don’t look at me like that.”

Cassian shook his head, forcing a smile to his face as he reached into his bag of pastries and pulled out a macaroon. “You just don’t talk about your personal love life much.”

Your eyes softened as you gazed at him, missing the conflict in his. “Well, there hasn’t been much to talk about lately. I’ve had relationships here and there.”

“I actually dated the bakery owner’s son awhile back. It only lasted three weeks. Biscuit bit his ankle when I first brought him to my place. Worked in his favor, though–he met the love of his life at the healing clinic. They make a really cute couple.”

Cassian’s eyebrows raised in surprise, thinking back to the blue-skinned fae with delicate features he’d seen occasionally at the bakery. He would often help his father during the winter season but he hadn’t seen him lately.

“I’ve opened my heart to many but none of them have wanted to keep it.” You said with a shrug and then took another bite of the strawberry tart. “My love life is quite eventful but it leads to nowhere. I don’t talk about it much because it’s not good for my reputation, you know? A love witch who cannot find love herself…”

Cassian's heart ached at your words. He stared at you again, not knowing what to say to sweeten the bitterness that had befallen upon you. It was then that he noticed some of the pastry’s cream on the corner of your mouth. Without thinking, he leaned in and reached out, his thumb gently brushing against your skin as he wiped it away.

The sudden closeness made your breath hitch, and he realized just how close he was to you. Your eyes locked and his hand lingered on your face, the warmth of your skin sending a shiver down his spine.

“Sorry, you had some of the pastry on your lips, ” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He was close enough to see the flecks of color in your eyes, to feel the warmth of your breath against his skin.

Something deep inside–like a hidden instinct– screamed at him to close the distance.

But instead, he let his hand drop, the moment slipping away like sand through his fingers. He brushed his thumb against his leathers to wipe off the cream before popping another macaroon into his mouth as if nothing happened.

“Maybe you should just date me.”

Cassian choked on the macaroon. “Date—” he managed between coughs, “you?”

His eyes widened, and for a moment, he thought he had seen a flicker of hurt flash through your eyes. But he must’ve imagined it because you were flashing him a grin, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “I’m just joking,” you said with a small laugh. “It’s just that people tend to meet their soulmates after breaking up with me. In a weird sense, I’m like a good luck charm. To all, except myself, that is.”

He felt a pang of disappointment, the feeling threatening to sink his heart. Of course, you were joking. He thought back to the fae you just told him about. Both males were tall and elegant with soft and beautiful features. They were so different from him, a stark contrast to his rugged warrior persona.

It was clear you had a type, and he was far from it. Just as he was convinced he was way out of your league. You would never date someone like him.

“Don’t worry! My love life might be a mess but when it comes to others, I am an expert. I have brought soulmates together. I made a vow to you, Cassian, and I intend to keep it. I’ll help you find your special someone, magic or no magic. Which brings me back to the update I wanted to share with you. I made a new friend the other day! Her name is…”

Cassian allowed you to tug him toward a quaint iron bench beneath a blooming tree as you rambled on. He settled down first, stretching his wings out to their full span to make room for both of you. As his wings curled around you, his heart raced at the accidental brush of his wing against your arm.

You continued to chatter excitedly about the new friend you thought Cassian might be interested in. “She’s beautiful, weight-lifts, is interested in Valkyrie training, and—are you even listening to me?”

“Yeah, of course,” Cassian replied noncommittally, drawing a small frown from you. In truth, he hadn’t been listening.

Something bright flashes in your eyes, the frown leaving your lips as quickly as it had come. “Did you meet someone in Windhaven?”

“No.” Cassian let out a snort. His trip to Windhaven consisted of solely dealing with the grumpy war camp lords. It was anything but pleasant. “I doubt I’d find love there.”

“Nonsense! Have you learned nothing from me?” You exclaimed, shifting in your seat so that you leaned forward slightly, palms of your hands placed on either side of your thighs. “Love can be found anywhere!”

Your eyes danced with excitement, searching around the plaza. He recognized that look on your face and leaned back, preparing for another impromptu love lesson.

“Just look,” you said, your voice soft as you pointed to various scenes around them with tilts of your head. “There’s love in the way a mother pushes her little girl on the swing—just the right amount of force to send her soaring but gentle enough to keep her safe.”

Cassian watched, mesmerized, as your pupils dilated into heart shapes, pink magic beginning to dance from your fingertips. “There’s love in the way the elderly couple walks hand in hand, their steps in sync as if they’ve been together for multiple lifetimes.”

“There’s love in the way the flower merchant sneaks an extra rose into the bouquet she just wrapped for her customer. There’s love in the way the customer’s hands brush against hers as he takes the bouquet, his touch lingering for a moment longer and oh, would you look at that—”

Pink stardust soared through the air, forming little butterflies that fluttered around the female and male at the flower stand. They circled around them, drawing them closer to one another, shimmering over them. “—He actually bought those flowers for her to ask her on a date and she said yes!”

“There’s love in the laughter of children playing in the park, their joy infectious...”

Cassian listened, but his focus was less on the people you pointed out and more on you. The way your eyes sparkled with passion, the soft glow of your smile, the gentle manner in which you observed the world—everything about you was enchanting.

It all made him yearn for something more, something he feared to admit. And in that moment, he realized that he didn’t need to find love in Windhaven or anywhere else.

Because what if...

What if it was right there, sitting beside him, wrapped in pink magic and heart-shaped pupils?

“Uncle C–”

A high-pitched, familiar cheerful voice drew Cassian out of his thoughts. He blinked and then he was looking around the park, keen eyes searching for the voice that sounded just like his nephew’s. But there was no sight of the adorable toddler that held a special place in his heart.

“Love is in the air, Cas.”

You were looking at him now, eyes filled with warmth and affection. He wondered if you could see the longing in his gaze, if you could feel the depth of his feelings.

But then you smiled, a smile so pure and bright that it took his breath away, and he knew he couldn’t risk losing you.

How could he ever hope to be worthy of someone as extraordinary as you?

a/n: I hope y'all didn't mind the time jump. I do intend to post more fics that occurred between the tarot love reading and this one! One of them is a bit angsty and gives more of Love Witch's POV since these have mainly been in Cassian's. I just had the inspiration to write this thanks to the song it was titled after.

Guess Azriel couldn't keep a secret, after all. This part leads right into the next, which was from a suggestion of love witch meeting the IC and also inspired by the song She's So High. If there is anything you'd like to see in that part, just let me know! <3

Biscuit is the name of Love Witch's pet snake btw, who will be introduced soon.

series masterlist

series taglist: @mrsjna , @shadowsingercassia, @acourtofbatboydreams, @rcarbo1, @mvidaaaa ,

@stuff-i-found-while-crying , @lipstickmarks, @yamisukehoe , @mp-littlebit , @thecraziestcrayon, @talesofadragon, @ceoofyearning

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #cassian imagine #cassian fanfic #cassian acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #acotar imagine #dream!cas

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