#salesman x male reader

[nouearth]

a day at the office.

jim halpert x male reader.

summary: what happens when jim finds out that there's a secret place in the warehouse that's used for sleeping? hint: it's not used for sleeping.

wc: 6.6k. genre: smut. warnings: coworkers, top!jim, bottom!reader, bigdick!jim, spit as lube, fingering, milking, over-stimulation, spitting, kissing, lots of french kissing, breeding, public sex, established relationship, au where pam is with someone else, jim has a bi-awakening, seasons 1-4 jim!

It was a call-back that he’d been expecting. It didn’t take much of an utter of the familiar client’s voice, the principal of Dunmore High School, to assure Jim that he had already secured another renewal of paper supplies for the school; an impressive three-year loyalty from the school, but who was counting?

Jim held the phone and watched you at your desk, two sections diagonal of him. He looked pleased when the client began voicing out compliments because of his efficient service, smiled because you were absolutely terrible at playing computer Chess despite lowering the difficulty settings, and beamed when you caught his gaze, warm like the mug of coffee sitting by the small picture frame of your dog on your desk.

It was impossible to know if you could hear what Jim was saying, but the grin on his face told more than a thousand words and you bid him a thumbs up when he looked up from his notepad after scribbling the client’s purchase.

“All right, and before I let you go, our customer service representative will follow up with a short survey regarding our products and services.” A question followed after. “Yep, similar survey as last time—you got it. All right, it was a pleasure doing business with you. Take care.”

Despite originally feeling aversion for his job, he couldn’t lie about feeling some sense of accomplishment whenever he secured a huge order. Not to mention how much of an ego booster it was since he earned a commission out of the sale. Gradually over time, Jim found himself to be one of the top salesman at the office, convincing himself that his stay at Dunder Mifflin would only be temporary.

Then the gratification completely ceased, weakly fluttering like a limp balloon, when he looked at the time on his taskbar.

It was only 10 AM.

This is going to be a long day. Jim groaned, slouching in his seat because the negotiation felt like forever, sucked out all of the energy left in him during the half-of-an-hour call despite fueling himself with caffeine and random fruits he’d stolen from his roommate. They were nearing that gross, wrinkly stage anyway.

When he turned his attention back towards you, the phone was in your hand, the other typing on the keyboard what Jim presumed would be the client’s answers to the survey questions. There was always a smile on your face, even if the client couldn’t see you. And then tone in your voice. It was inviting and personable, a voice that made people feel safe and heard, as if that mattered at all because how could buying paper feel anywhere near dangerous? 

Or maybe it was simply because Jim was too high on his own infatuation for you, that he was mostly projecting his appreciation.

A couple of hours had passed, 1 PM, and Jim managed to make a few sales here and there. A couple of clients hadn’t finalized their choice of supplier yet, but Dunder Mifflin was certainly being alluded as the option once he offered free deliveries on the count that they ordered a certain number of shipments of paper. That always sealed the deal.

To be honest, other than enduring many of Michael’s annoying antics with Dwight being his right-hand man, most days in the office were exactly as mundane as today was turning out to be. Usually, he would find himself passing time by hanging around your desk, catching you up on the weirdest news he discovered through a deep-dive in the internet.

And you wouldn’t believe what’s about to happen next…

What..? Don’t tell me they found the fing— Yep, they found the finger in the chicken tenders. Cooked. Medium-rare. Crisp to the bone. Blistering. Oh god—that’s horrifying! Jim—

And usually, they were lies that he made up on the way to your desk, mainly because he loved drawing a reaction out of you. And you were also extremely gullible, which made it all the easier to do so.

But as far as today was concerned, you were knees-deep into your responsibilities. Phone calls concerning shipment delays siphoned you into brief turmoil because—of course there were going to be delays, we’re in the middle of February where the earth was working in mysterious ways to conjure up snow days!

As much as Jim wanted to cut the phone line off when a client had suddenly erupted into an audibly loud one-sided yelling match—he was winning, of course—it always impressive how calm and composed you were under those circumstances.

Though, while he acted the same way regarding his approach to customers, he preferred to give people time and space to calm down. Whereas you accessed the situation and carefully structured how you sounded to hopefully pacify their anger. Your voice was gentler, but it never faltered into a frailness that made you a pushover for the client to rag on. Rather, it was stern, especially authoritative when you would assert, “Sir, I understand this situation is very frustrating for you, but I am here to help. And I cannot help you if you do not tell me your order number. And it would also be very much appreciated if you lowered your voice.”

You were fairly new to the company, a little over two years in your position, and every day, as a little more of you unfolded, you’d shown Jim why you were hired on the spot. You were practically the face of what Dunder Mifflin desired, of what any company expected really; friendly, collaborative, hard-working, efficient, all those cliché keywords on a résumé. 

A golden boy, Jim liked to describe you as. He didn’t mean anything negative by it, simply by evidence of your personality at first. But when he mentioned that moniker for you one day, of course you laughed like it was the funniest thing Jim had told you since you’d introduced yourself, because you were a people-pleaser. Easy to get along. Charming. Handsome. Bright. Golden. 

That was you.

Honestly, Jim never expected to cross ‘fall in love’ off his New Year’s resolutions right before the year even started. He also never thought he’d strike out ‘discover your bi-awakening’ in any timeline of the universe—only because he didn’t even know he had a type in men—but the future worked in wondrous, confusing ways. Though, if someone actually asked for him to describe his type, it would be indescribable because Jim doesn’t know exactly what made him fall in love with you, except for the fact that it was you. Your presence. Your personality. Your looks. You.

Jim liked how you would say greet everyone ‘good morning,’ but it was him that you held in high-regard. He liked how you were shorter, like many others in the office were compared to him, but you had a build, or maybe a presence, that made him want to take you in his arms and never let go. He liked how you would end up snorting at his jokes because he never found his jokes incredibly funny. It was mainly a tactic, or rather an invitation for you to know that he wanted to be friends. With every laugh that spilled out of your mouth, fortuitous snorts that would embarrass you when Jim kept the joking going, a mutual bond was shortly formed and it felt even better than scoring a huge sale.

He liked how you were generous, tossing a bag of chips on his desk after a visit to the vending machine, and he’d suspected that you’d been watching him too, because you always got his favorite flavor without Jim ever telling you the minor details of his insignificant life.

He also liked how confusing it was to like you, to suddenly develop a crush on a man like he had just discovered a new aspect of life. There was something exciting and new happening in his mundane world, giving him a newfound motivation to come to work other than to pay his bills. He thought he discovered everything about himself by his early 20s, but you’d shown him that life truly does throw you off-course, or in Jim’s case, on the right side of the path. 

He casted doubts about his sexuality early on, pondering that loneliness had caught up to him and constructed an entirely different narrative as a last ditch effort to set him on an expedition to find love again.

But would loneliness really be influential enough to compel him to suddenly kiss you in the parking lot after having dinner together? He recalled you gasping, pulling away, thankfully not because you were repulsed by him, but because you were in complete shock that Jim was even into men in the first place. 

Jim never realized how much he brought up his ex-girlfriends to overcompensate for this sudden attraction for the opposite gender until you brought it up.

I don’t know yet, about all of this… I’m still figuring things out, but I really like you, (M/N).

Jim, I think you had too much to drink.

All I had was a Sprite—

He pondered that night, then many more until it began weighing on his conscience.

But he oddly found himself kissing you again a month after, properly this time, in his Subaru when he took you home after your car broke down. He felt like a volcano erupting when his lips landed on yours, soft and delicate like the first time he kissed you. His breath rattled into your own hesitation with every exhale, but then you took him in, let him in, and Jim melted. 

And then calmed, stilled, when you led, cupping his jaw to keep Jim from pulling away, and instead closer, leaning over the armrests of each respective seat and center console. The leather pressed uncomfortably into his body, but when you slipped your tongue inside of his mouth, he was spellbound, then purged of any feeling other than the ones you’d enthralled him with.

As you assured him on that night, with a late night conversation that refused to let you out of his car and Jim out of your neighborhood street, that was when he found himself.

Huh.

What?

Nothing… Usually my gay-dar is pretty spot on, so if I knew you rocked that way, I would’ve flirted with you early on.

Okay, one; never mention gay-dar to Michael or Dwight ever, because then they’ll go ‘I told you so’ on me. And two; you had a crush on me? Tell me more.

You’d be surprised how much height can make a gay man go feral, Jim.

Seems like you managed yourself pretty well, don’t you think? That you know of.

You animal…

Another hour passed by as Jim willingly let himself be sucked into a black hole of thoughts recalling those moments with you, those ‘firsts’ that could keep him distracted for another two hours or so. Alongside his first kiss with you, there was the first time he touched you; clumsiness took his hands to roam around your chest, stomach, then erection until you blew from Jim’s increasing interest, and then profound knowledge in your body.

He kissed you elsewhere other than your lips. It started off with your neck, then your shoulders, chest, and so-on, until his lips suddenly began wrapping around your own length without warning, sucking you off with cloddish, yet enticing attempts that made you laugh, because Jim was greedy, awkward with his tongue, but that didn’t stop you from wanting him to yourself.

You pulled him off and made him lean back on the couch instead, settling on your knees and then rewarding his service with your own mouth, to show him how to properly work a cock. Jim was never a man that was enticed by blowjobs, only because a mouth never felt gratifying enough, but with every swirl of your tongue, every spit that dripped off of his thick cock and back into your mouth, he was fully convinced that he was a changed man by the time he filled your mouth. 

He then intruded deep inside of you because to fully have an understanding of your body, he needed to explore every inch, every surface, every crevice. It was on his bed, in his messy room that Jim tried to hurriedly clean before you came in, that could barely accommodate room for two, but it was you who made it work when you straddled on his lap and rode him instead. You’d never felt so full, you said it yourself he was balls-deep inside of you.

And jesus christ, Jim knew he was big considering the women he’d dated were apprehensive about taking him, barely taking his cock before surrendering. It gave him deja vu with the way you held your eyes shut, bracing your position by having one palms on his chest, and the other guiding his cock carefully into you, controlling the stagger of your breath to the best of your ability. 

In the moment where he’d expect you to stop pushing yourself and tell him to settle for a blowjob instead, determination set you aflame like the painful stretch Jim had been providing you with, and with three more pulses to your breath, a brief break to apply more lube on Jim’s erection and your hole, you were entirely breached when Jim aided your hips and pushed you down until you were flushed against his body, flesh sticky and sweaty from your persistence.

You’re amazing… Jim, I’m close. Harder—

It was a memorable night, a messy one where you offered to change his sheets, and Jim swore he could’ve gone all-night if they hadn’t had work the very next day.  Instead, he held you close, panting and continuing to fill you despite your protest to shower, gazing into your eyes while you held his stare with a warmth that might have rivaled his own infactuation for you, and smiled.

I really like you.

I really, really like you too, Halpert.

And now Jim was here, fantasizing in his seat with an aching hard-on, but absolutely guilt-free this time, because it’d been a few months since you two made it official.

It took several pings from Jim’s computer to put his musing to a halt. He leaned forward to view the unread messages, tending to his erection with a few gentle squeezes, then peeked over his monitor with a grin when he realized it was from you.

[M/N]: lunch? [M/N]: hellooooo

[M/N]: if you don’t answer i’m ordering ahead without you [M/N]: wow you’re really out of it [M/N]: stare deep into space if you hate me [M/N]: wow, jim.

“Hey,” A gentle kick to your shoe knocked your attention up to Jim, where he greeted you with a warm smile as soon as your gaze fell on him, a coat draped over his arm. “What are you feeling today?” The weather wasn’t too cold, the coat mainly providing an obstruction to the evident outline in his khakis.

Glistening, you returned his smile tenfold in brightness, sprouting from your seat to stretch your arms over your head, loosening the tuck of your shirt crinkle by crinkle until you felt a pleasing crack to your back and shoulders. “Anything’s fine. Sushi? Wait, no—we had that last week.”

“You have…” Jim rolled a sleeve up to check the time on his watch, and your eyes immediately pivoted towards the veins in his forearm, endearing and taunting. “…the two minutes it takes to get to my car to decide.”

“Wait, but that’s not even enough—“ He turned his body so you were complaining towards his back, broad and firm through his blue dress shirt. You’d never felt so envious of a piece of clothing hugging tight on his body when that could’ve been you.

“Up and at ‘em, a minute and twenty seconds now.” Jim began walking towards the entrance, chuckling as he could hear you scramble through your desk in search for something. “Gotta find my wallet first—“

“Seriously? It’s already been thirty seconds now!” 

Turned out, all that rushing was for nothing as Jim had other plans when he pulled you past the exit to the parking lot, and instead another floor lower, and then another, until you and him reached the warehouse. He acted on impulse, his sudden thirst for you taking the reign of his actions that he didn’t exactly know what to do had the warehouse not been empty. Luckily, it was and Jim would keep that in mind for the future.

“Uh… Jim, why are we down here?” The warehouse was bigger than you last remembered from the brief introductory tour you were given. Though, to be fair, you were running on a half-mug of coffee, and the adrenaline rush of meeting everyone for the first time hadn’t worn off yet.

“You’ll see,” Jim shrugged, nonchalant in his demeanor as his gaze was seemingly in pursuit of something above him along the rows of storage shelves and units. “Don’t want to ruin the surprise for you.” The words rolled off of his tongue suspiciously, and beneath the growing smile on Jim’s face that was supposed to keep you calm and composed like it did on normal circumstances, was something that did the opposite, riling a wave of conflicting feelings within you.

Especially when Jim began to climb a ladder and step into a shelf space in the back of the warehouse that was hidden impressively well from the entrance.

“What—What are you doing?! Get down here!” Your eyes widened in panic, scanning the space from left to right multiple times in case any of the warehouse employees were within vicinity. “Jim!”

“It’s fine, come on up!” He waved you up once he got himself situated, head awkwardly bent and shoulders slant because of the shelf barely accommodated for his height and build.

“No way. We’re going to get fired if we get caught.” You frowned, crossing your arms as you stared up at him, baffled.

“You know, it would help your case if you weren’t standing where everyone could see you.” Jim reasoned and you huffed after. “I promise, we won’t get caught. I’ll keep an eye out. And if it helps, Darryl told me about this area. Toasty in here too.”

Apprehensively, you took ahold of the ladder railings and climbed your way to the shelf space where Jim awaited for your arrival, anticipated with a smug smile as he held out his hand to pull you in once you took his palm.

The shelf was in the darkest corner of the room. A few lights above had been burnt out for quite some time, and the large boxes of paper supplies that surrounded the perimeter casted shadows that ultimately provided an agreeable space despite your original complaints. In this case, as you cataloged the pillows and one throw blanket around you and Jim; a comfy place to rest your eyes.

“You took me here… to nap.” You stated matter-of-factly and stared at him disengaged, but nonetheless foraged a pillow behind your head and snuggled up to his left side when he opened his arm up. 

“The things I do for you. Absolutely no appreciation whatsoever.” Jim joked, then pinched your nose with a chuckle. The gesture always managed to pull a smile out of you, and he already anticipated you mirroring it back at him, to which he keenly blocked with a strong hold of your wrist. Then another when you attempted sneak attack with a neck-chop with your other arm.

“You know…” Your voice wandered to a deepness, a slight hush as if anyone around you could hear. “You could’ve just told me you were horny.” You tugged your hands in resistance.

“What—How did you know?” Jim broke out into a toothy smile despite being caught red-handed.

“I mean, you weren’t exactly hiding your boner that well. A hand isn’t going to cover that.” You nodded your head towards the size of his bulge, the center of Jim’s khakis creasing when his erection greeted you with a throb. The boxes of paper supplies couldn’t shelter Jim had they tried.

“Hey, are you shaming me for having a big penis? Wow, (M/N). I thought you were different.” He loosened his hold on your wrists, but nonetheless kept them within his grasp to guide your right hand to his inner thigh, dropping the other after. He leaned in, his gaze pivoting to your wet lips when you licked your lips. The scent of his cologne, along with the way Jim’s eyes glazed over you like a piece of meat, stirred something inside of you. Your pants felt tighter than a couple seconds ago.

“If blowing you until you finish in my mouth is shaming, then…” Jim’s hand pressed on top of yours to move you upwards to his bulge, but you resisted, a teasing grin beamed towards the smug smile on his face before you enchanted his lips with a soft, languid kiss. “Call me a monster.”

Jim abandoned your hand to take ahold of your jaw, cupping the underside of it softly while his thumb caressed the structure with composed strokes. Your breath tasted like coffee, sweeter than how Jim preferred his own cup, but perfectly delectable when it came from your tongue. 

“You stole my line.” He joked again, then kissed you harder; a stroke of his tongue parted your lips again in desperate need to take you, in a sloppy pursuit of some kind of reward for his terrific work this month. His tongue explored your mouth, panting among both parties, your own wet flesh gliding and slipping against and around his needy endeavors, prompted by the gentle squeezes and strokes on his erection, and it didn’t take very long before you were completely captivated by Jim and the way he took you, your body going limp except for the growing tent in your pants.

You palmed him through his khakis. Your hand barely moved up his thigh before you could feel a long and thick lump residing beneath the crinkle of his left pocket, and a moan slipped from your throat because you could never stop marveling over the size of Jim’s cock. “We only have twenty minutes.” It was a complaint rather than a reminder. The clock ticking in your head peeled you away from the captivating kiss, frowning because there was so much you wanted to do to Jim, for him.

“Better get to work then.” You felt his hands suddenly begin to work at your belt, unbuckling them with deft and efficiency. Impatience left the leather hang loose, flopping stiffly as Jim unzipped your pants, and then pushed them down to your ankles after turning you on your side, your back facing him.

Jim snapped your briefs below the smooth curve of your ass, plumping them with the help of the tight restraining digging into your skin and pushing your mounds of flesh upwards. It was a delicious invitation for him to spank your right ass cheek once to watch how his slap reverberated off your flesh in soft jiggles, then another because your hushed whimpers were the perfect accompaniment to the force of his palm.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about your ass today.” He confessed while the strong kneads to your ass, palms of thick flesh groped and spread, provided proof to his confession.

“Yeah? Is that why you couldn’t keep it in your pants today?” You groaned when something wet and lean slid nimbly inside of your hole without warning. Tight and warm, you squeezed around Jim’s lone finger as it thrusted inside of you. Whimpered when it curled, another finger joining after a couple of flicks of his wrist, with the intent to wreck vengeance on the source of his erection.

“You know it,” His voice ghosted over your ear, closer than you expected, and your head knowingly turned to meet his lips for a yearning, sloppy kiss that Jim mutually had been craving all day for. He pushed himself closer to you, your mouth and his parting open and lingering as tongues mingled for an open-mouthed kiss. It was wet and sickly, enough to get you high on the act alone, cock throbbing when Jim closed his mouth around your tongue and sucked the spit bubbles off your tongue. All of that simultaneously stirring butterflies in your stomach while he worked your hole open, presently stretching you out with three fingers barreled into your cavity. 

Usually three fingers was enough to take Jim’s cock. It was uncomfortable, at times painful when you barely stretched yourself. But you liked that you could feel every inch of Jim’s muscly cock pushing you open. You likened it to rolling out a tight muscle after a tough workout. Painful, but incredibly satisfying once you felt him turning you out. Plus, it never failed to make Jim incredibly gratified, his cock somehow growing harder, thicker while he was shelved inside of you.

It wasn’t the most ideal position; you were facing boxes of copy paper that instantly evoked shame, the Dunder Mifflin logo plastered across the cardboard seemingly mortified by the lack of restraining when it came to your boyfriend. It wasn’t often that you two involved yourself in public sex, but when Jim was either too impatient to wait at his apartment, or you needed something to recharge you in the middle of the day, those circumstances mainly resided in his car. You bought extra blankets to cover up the windows too, though ultimately, they served no purpose because you were here—ass out, jerking yourself off to the hastened sound of Jim’s belt unbuckling, khakis and boxers shoved down to his ankles similar to yours in turn.

“Shoot,” Jim grunted irritably. You turned your head over your shoulder, curiously finding the source of his evident annoyance along with him as Jim began searching through his coat pockets, only after taking a long peek at the glorious throb of his cock.

“What? Having regrets already?” You grinned, and you discerned a vacant smile of his own, Jim’s mind occupied by a multitude of thoughts.

“I forgot the lube. I thought I put it in my pocket, guess not…” A sigh of disappointment came after Jim’s habit of clicking his tongue whenever he felt any kind of feeling. “Well, I guess we could try—“

You suddenly took Jim’s hand and spat in it, Jim watching wide-eyed, stunned, while you pushed a few more out with your tongue since saliva never had the ideal longevity and viscosity of lube. “Hurry before it dries.” You turned back calmly, beckoning for his cock with a push of your ass. 

“I’m in love with you.” Jim breathed out, a toothy smile you could imagine from the giddy tone of his voice. The spit in his hand was then used to lube his thick cock, in a thick sheen you presumed from the sticky sounds that tingled the tips of your ears, then the base of your tightened balls.

“Prove it to me.” You folded the arm you were lain on behind your head, cushioning the weight of it while your other hand reached back to lather his cock in your saliva after spitting a few more times into your palm. You felt veins pulsing strong with every stroke, a weight of thick cock that made your wrist sore, and then as you pivoted towards the pink glans of Jim’s dick, a bulbous head that intimidatingly maintained the girth of his shaft.

“You’re going to regret it.” He said smugly, adjusting himself closer and lower to match your smaller build. His moans were bitten back, swallowed down with hard gulps while you were carried away in providing him a temporary relief that you were too impatient to ignore.

Your hand continued stroking him off, your saliva sticking on his cock and then eventually in between your ass as you guided him towards your entrance, immense warmth emanating from the blood surging through his cock veins. “Have I ever?” 

“No,” Jim replaced your hand, making it return back to fondling your balls, and teased by running his cock over the crack of your ass. You felt his cock bolt with a spring, taunting when the plump head pressed its slick pre-cum to your pucker. He loved how he could see your ass clench in desperate efforts to lure him in, but it was futile as he’d return to sweeping over your hole with languid swipes, drawing out whimpers that signified that your impatience was running thin. 

“And I love you even more for that.”

He suddenly pushed. Your breath got caught in your throat from the abruptness of it all, and your body immediately tensed in turn, frozen in place when a burning sensation from beneath alerted you to stay put and just breathe. Jim groaned, already feeling the swell of your pucker refusing to let the head in, so he pulled himself out and restarted. Harder, he pushed his cock inside of you again, persistent despite your body naturally arcing forward to escape the emerging pain, but his hand on your hip pulled you back, anchoring your withering body, until the thick inch of his cock slid in.

“Careful—F-fuck, Jim.” Your stomach was in knots as it always was when he would first push inside of you. Feelings, conflicting ones of need, want, and regret battling for the throne of your body, of your mind, as Jim kept pushing, sliding in and out, rough and impatient because he needed you to open yourself up for him.

He was so big, too big at times, and you felt so pathetic because you thought you’d get used to him by now; used to the way you felt so full even when only his head had penetrated you; used to how your hole stung as more of Jim sheathed inside of you, slowly with a couple of thrusts aiding its insertion. 

“I know, I know…” He breathed with a rattle, the tightness in your cavity gripping pleasurably around him as he thrusted with only the first few inches in, absolutely riveting that he couldn’t help but let his desires dominant his methodical approach in letting you adjust to his large size and instead, making you to take it all at once with one long and deep push.

“J-Jim!” A scream abruptly left your throat and before you could let another slip out, his hand suddenly came up to cover your mouth, pressing his palm hard to your face and squeezing your cheeks. Your eyes shut, and your body writhed from how Jim’s cock roughly worked you opened. You felt uncomfortably full, beyond stretched to your limits as Jim was balls-deep inside of you now, but most importantly, you felt so wanted.

Bounded by the strong hold around you; his hand squeezing your cheeks in his palm to muffle your moans; his cock penetrating you deep and hard with fast and needy rhythms; his lips soft against your neck before they surprised with a painful suck to your jawbone; you were enraptured by Jim’s dominance over you, leaking from the tip of your cock in heavy drips while he fucked you from behind, the metal of his belt clacking with every precision of his thrusts.

“You’re so tight. Fuck. No one can take my dick like you.” Jim panted, embellishing your neck in hot breaths before climbing to kiss you on the lips again once you were prompted to turn your head. 

It was the small sounds from you that drove Jim nuts. They spilled into his mouth without restraint, an open-mouthed kiss again as he licked into you, suckled on your tongue, and let drool join your own slick mess at your chin. Tiny whimpers and occasional gasps when he hit your prostate fed his thirst for you, knowing that only he could drive you this mad; fumbling over your begs and surrendering because his cock was too good for you to think properly and find your words again.

“Harder. Harder.” You gulped, your demands muffled as Jim had his thumb in your mouth now. After, you went back to sucking his thick thumb off, tongue laving him in circular motions, as best as one could as Jim sped his pace and fucked you into oblivion. “Harder.” You gritted your teeth, hustling through the burn as the saliva had dried off his dick by now. You were beating your cock, pumping it with an ample amount of strength that rivaled Jim’s hips against you, motivated by the ticking countdown of your lunch break coming to an end soon.

It still stung. You barely had time to adjust to him before you were completely taking Jim’s cock as if you were a cheap flashlight he bought online, a piece of silicon that he’d break. Your hair bounced, sweat-dripping down your forehead while you felt his own sweat dripping of his forehead and staining your dress shirt. The back of your shirt felt damp, heat building up at your back-side as Jim had enclosed around you with an embrace that thawed any ounce of pain and replaced it with intoxicating pleasure. An onslaught of thrusts kept you writhing by your toes, then curling into the blanket that had bundled beneath your feet.

Harder. Your demands were immediately met after Jim pulled himself out completely, as if he was recharging his strength, lubed his erection with a spit to the palm, then shoved himself back into you with one strong thrust, sending your body into an arc that he’d immediately restrained back with a push to your abdomen, forcing you to take his cock in full stride. Your ass rippled like the rattle in your moans, flesh clapping loud whenever Jim met his groin to your skin, and you couldn’t get enough of it, the sounds glorious in your ear. Your hole clenched in vain as Jim always managed to power through and forced you open again, hollowing you out until your pucker shaped itself to the exact size of his thick cock.

He would marvel at the gape when he pulled himself out again, for his own sake as he was nearing his climax, and spread your cheeks open. “Just for me?”

“Just for you.” You used the small break to catch up on your breath, wetting your parched throat with multiple gulps as you turned over your shoulder to catch him staring, finding it futile as your throat felt brittle again.

He clicked his tongue multiple times, that habit again whenever he felt something, when the rim of your hole tensed up at the multiple spanks he’d given you, seemingly swallowing at nothing but air, until he breached himself back in, angling his hips perfectly to press at your prostate.

It was nearing—your climax. You rarely touched your cock, abandoning it because your arms tend to be locked behind Jim’s warm embrace around you, but it sprouted strong in between your legs, aided by the repeated violation against your prostate. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head multiple times, Jim’s large cock knocking the breath out of you with every snap of his hips, pounding into the swelling of your insides.

“Oh god, Jim—“

That spot again, he never missed once in hitting your prostate, a storm of delight torpedoing the pit of your stomach as Jim impaled into you like lightning. Jim muttered something under his breath, striking on your skin as he bit into your neck, then pressed hard against your hip bone.

“I’m gonna—“ Jim gripped at your hips harder, a slur of words near your ear making goosebumps raise all over your body, beneath the layer of sweat that had dampened your clothes. 

“Too, me too—“ You huffed, closing your eyes, but deftly finding Jim’s lips when you turned your head to kiss him one more time. An immediate tangle of tongues was enforced, your mouths mutually opening on impulse while he held your head comfortably to keep you from straining your neck. You moaned, reeled your tongue back from the slippery closure of his mouth, and cried out as your pucker clamped down on his large cock moving inside of you. Your hole throbbed around his girth with exquisite spurts that came from within, pulsated with the veins that had adorned Jim’s cock delectably, grasped him like a tight sleeve that refused to let him go. 

When you opened your eyes, you were blinded by the lights that had donned over you instead of casted shadows, a heavenly choir celebrating with holy bells when your balls tightened once before loosening when your cock erupted thick cumshots onto the boxes in front of you, painting the cardboard in thick layers of yourself, of your desires, with the help of Jim’s cock, pounding strong ropes of cum out of you until they’ve hit every box like target practice. 

“Fuck.” Jim let out a deep groan, pushing painfully into you, his hand reaching over to milk your cock until you were only spewing out the tiniest bits of cum left in your emptying sack. Your whimpering and the convulsion of your body, as he continued to milk your cock, triggered Jim to finally break within a couple more thrusts and a deep grunt, his cock exploding hot and thick in the confines of your ass, flooding your tender hole with his thick cum loads.

“Jim.” You whined, drawing out his name. His cum was dripping out of you, a few thick droplets rolling to the side of your ass as Jim’s thrusts were beginning to shallow, but never once pausing. “Fuck—“

“You feel so good like this.” Jim was creaming your insides, using your ass to ride out his orgasm and milk his hard cock inside of you, even when he was beginning to feel sore at the base of his balls. You whimpered quietly, knowing it was such a waste of cum dripping out of you like that, but also because you felt your cock hardening again despite just now recovering from Jim’s devious hold on you.

“We’re going to be late if you keep this up.” You should’ve known better. Any time you offered him a reason not to do something, Jim was motivated to do the opposite. 

His thrusts remained the same, shallow yet deep against you, and right when you thought you felt soaked in your ass, Jim pressed another low grunt to your lips, snapping once into you and rattling another moan out of you, before the convulsions bound his body to your backside once again, and let him spill another load inside of your creamy hole.

Jim shuddered, feeling drained and especially aching as his cock went limp and slipped out of you, the only connection between you and him being the sticky cum that had webbed his cock and your ass together as you involuntarily pushed his cum out of your tender hole in a daze.

“Think you can work the rest of the day like this?” The pleasure subsided into exhaustion, a wave of drowsiness hitting you and Jim like a truck despite the uncomfortable pool of cum sitting beneath you two. Jim kissed your shoulder, then pulled your briefs back up, your pants following after.

“No way.” You laughed, lightly punching at his shoulder after buckling your belt because now all you wanted to do was use what the shelf was actually purposed for: sleeping. “You owe me a hot bath later.”

“Tch, the things I do for you. You're ungateful.”

"You love me for it."

"I do."

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[islandofsages]

Hello, can i ask for Octavinelle dorm with Octavinelle! M! reader?

He's a really chill and silly guy but somehow crazy good with money and business. Like, if you give him 10 bucks and tell him to do whatever he wants with it and come back with 100 bucks, he'll somehow come back with 10000 bucks and become the CEO of some company. And, yeah, he's got these goofy ideas that somehow just work.

characters: the octavinelle boys x male octavinelle reader

tags: relationship not specified, crack (?), imagines format

warnings: a bit of swearing (just one word really)

author's notes: i love yall yall's readers are so goofy they're so fun to write

Azul Ashengrotto

He appreciates how you’re one of the more level-headed guys around, though if only you could lay off the joking and teasing

But as long as you don’t cause him trouble he doesn’t mind you as much - and you end up proving to him that you are the very opposite

One day, he asks you to run him a errand (with fair compensation, of course; he is the soul of benevolence after all)

It’s quite simple - fetch him a sum of money Sam owes the Mostro Lounge (you don’t question how and why a fully-grown adult owes a seventeen year old money)

And so you go over to Sam’s. You won’t lie, you’re a little curious of what this debt entails. You’ll see if you can squeeze some details out of Sam

You meet up with Sam, all smiles as per usual. Though when you mention that you’re there because of the debt, he takes you into the shop’s backroom instead

He gives you an envelope, stuffed with the goods no doubt. He seems insistent on not letting on anything - but then you hit him with a classic move

“Now, now, we’re not in a rush, are we? I don’t even work for the Mostro Lounge. Least you can do is entertain a guy. I’ll keep my lips sealed.”

Sweet-talk and half-truths are a way to a salesman's heart after all. It’s true that you don’t work for Azul but that’s only because you have other businesses going on right now

Sam gives in with a sigh. It seems as if he’s been carrying such a secret for a while and needs an outlet. And you are definitely here for it

You come back to Octavinelle, skipping merrily (if not physically, at least you were on cloud nine mentally) and carrying more than just an envelope. Azul, on the other hand, is borderline seething for whatever reason. Little does he know

The moment you reach his office, you toss him the envelope and is about to leave - until he sees not one but the two enormous bags you carried in your hands that are definitely filled with money

Distraught, he questions you on how the hell you manage to score that much money. You shrug while walking towards the exit. It's just a matter of persuasion and creative thinking.

Business is so easy, you thought.

Jade Leech

Similar to Azul, it’s nice to have someone who has their shit together - plus, he finds it amusing when you mess with Azul. It reminds him of Floyd’s antics

Once in a while, you’re a pleasant guy to just sit down and have small talk with, though at times he wishes you would let on about yourself more

For his information, you only let slip when you want to; and he finds that out himself one fateful day

He jokes that if there’s anyone who could overpower Azul and steal his authority over the Mostro Lounge, it’d be you. You chuckle knowingly at this

Feeling a little playful, you propose to him a bet - if you manage to do so by next week, he owes you ten thaumarks. But if you don’t, you owe him ten thaumarks

He lets out a carefree laugh, amused. He reserves his assumptions and agrees to play along with you for the next few days

He doesn’t see you in a while. Not intentionally - he genuinely can’t find you anywhere, though he only attributes it to the fact that there’s only so much time he can use to look for you

After a whole week has passed, he seats himself where the bet initially took place and waits patiently for you to show up. True to your promise, you come waltzing up to him casually, your hands in your pockets and a friendly smile on your face

You slide next to him as he asks you how’ve you been and the two of you update each other on your wellbeing. Then he starts chuckling, a hand over his mouth in true Jade fashion. You smirk in response, knowing too well what that chuckle is for

And in true you fashion, you pull out ten thaumarks and extend them to him

…wait a minute. That’s ten thousand thaumarks.

You savor the sight of a Jade with his mouth agape. You snicker at his bewilderment as he tries to process what’s happening in front of him

“It’s true that I didn’t usurp Azul’s power or anything - but that’s only because I’m not interested in the Mostro Lounge. I’d rather have it as a rival than my property.”

After he gets over his initial shock, he offers you a sinister, toothy grin. You respond with a finger to your lips. He nods understandingly and takes the money from you with no protest.

Floyd Leech

You’re more low-key compared to him but he still appreciates having a fellow pain-in-Azul’s-ass

Of course, it depends on his mood still, but his tolerance of you is pretty consistent despite everything. You take it as a compliment

On one of his good-mood days, he’s chatting it up with you and laying out potential ways to mess with Azul more. You bring your own idea to the table

“How about this? I get a common word used by literally everyone trademarked and anyone who dares utter it has to pay me. And that includes Azul himself.”

He guffaws at your ridiculous idea and voices his opinion. You laugh yourself and don’t deny it. It is pretty far-fetched… but you have your ways

Plus, he has to admit that would piss off Azul super bad it’d be worth the trouble

The two of you hang out from time to time as usual when behind it all, you’re setting up Azul’s eventual downfall

Or not. You don’t actually care about taking Azul down but it would be pretty funny. Also you’ll get to impress Floyd in some shape or form which you care more about frankly

Once the deed is done, it’s announced everywhere you could think of - you did it under a fake name of course. But the money you’ll be getting can’t be any more real

What did you trademark? The word “so”.

When you relay this story to Floyd, he lets out a howl of a laugh you could’ve mistaken him for a wolf - he has no idea what strings you had to pull to actually manage that but color him entertained

…until he realizes that he’d also have to pay you every time he uses that word. Then his mood goes down instantly

You shrug that realization off by giving him a pass since he let you entertain the idea in the first place.

Floyd happy again :)

[azrielslightintheshadows]

Failed proposal

Azriel x f!Reader

Masterlist.

Summary; Azriel finally gathers the courage to propose, but what happens when the ring gets mixed with the earrings Cassian got for Nesta?

I was inspired by the movie "something from Tiffany's"

Warnings; a bit of angst and swearing. Mentions of violence.

Winter solstice was coming and everyone was rushing around trying to find the perfect gift for their loved ones. You, Feyre, and Nesta had already shopped for gifts and hid them around the house so the males wouldn’t find them. They were way too impatient and you knew that the moment they would spot a present they would open it to see what it is. Even your mate Azriel who seemed strict and a sucker for rules would cave. 

You and Azriel met 50 years ago and the bond snapped instantly, you spent the next years going out on dates and taking things slow and about 20 years ago you moved in the house of wind and accepted the bond. You didn’t have a ceremony so you recently discussed about getting married, he seemed nervous and wrapped the conversation quite abruptly making you wonder if he really wanted this. You couldn’t understand what was holding him back, you had accepted the bond so getting married was actually something meant to happen. Your insecurities resurfaced and the jealousy consumed you as you thought about the time he spent with Elain in order to help her adjust, but after overhearing that he had a big plan for this winter solstice, you decided to wait until then to confront him. The girls were all convinced that he will give you the ring you yearned for and you couldn’t hide your excitement.

Azriel 

“I don’t know Rhys… none of the rings feels right” Azriel said as they walked around in the store.  

“What about this one?” Rhys exclaimed and held a ring in Azriel’s face. The shadowsinger took a step back and examined the ring, it was indeed a beautiful gold ring with a blue marquise cut stone the same shade as his siphons. Azriel took the ring from Rhysand’s hand and moved it to the light, it was just as shiny as your eyes, he thought and smiled. 

“Okay I’ll take this” he informed the salesman and followed him to the register. After the ring was packed he took the bag and hurried off hoping to get home before you so he could hide it.

He entered the library and removed one stone from the wall leaving the present inside and placing the stone back into place. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t notice the same bag that Cassian had hidden there too.

Winter solstice.

Azriel’s behavior was completely odd the past days and this morning he jumped off the bed like you burned him. You were really confused but also excited because these were telltale signs of an upcoming proposal -or at least that’s what the girls had been telling you.

The night came rather quickly and you all gathered in the main room of the house of wind with all the presents. 

Feyre gave Rhysand a painting of Nyx and him flying around, then she gave Cassian a book about war strategies. For Nesta she had bought a book series and for Elain some gardening supplies. Then she moved to Azriel for whom she got a new dagger, and finally you… you opened the velvet box and gasped, she got you the necklace you had been checking out for months. You hugged her and then it was Rhysand’s turn, he bought Feyre an art gallery and jewellery and weapons for the rest of you. 

Azriel’s turn came, and he gave Feyre a sketchbook, then gave Rhysand a new pair of Illyrian leathers, and a new sword to Cassian. He had bought Nesta a book and then he moved to Elain, you almost growled when she gasped and held a bracelet with a pink rose charm. Then it was your turn, he looked nervous as he grabbed the last bag and gave it to you. 

At the same time Cassian pushed a similar bag in Nesta’s hands whispering “I can’t wait anymore open it please” 

You opened the bag and saw a small velvet box, your heart stopped and you glanced at Azriel. It’s happening. You thought and opened the box with a huge smile on your face.

“Oh Az… uhm thank you” your smile fluttered.

He furrowed his eyebrows and asked “what?” 

“I love them” you smiled and showed him the box, a pair of earrings was inside and he frowned. 

Nesta squealed and jumped on her feet 

“Yes yes yes a million times yes” she screamed and hugged a very confused Cassian. 

Your eyes watered as you stared at them.

Cassian gulped as he saw the ring. He was sweating but seeing Nesta’s reaction he smiled and placed it on her finger. You couldn’t take it anymore so you congratulated them and excused yourself. Azriel was speechless… he glared at Cassian and hurried off to find you. 

You were in your shared room, sitting on the bed and crying. Azriel felt a pang in his chest but he couldn’t tell you, he didn’t want to do this without the ring. Rage filled him and he thought about all the ways he would beat Cassian. 

“What’s wrong angel?” He asked and sat next to you. 

“Do you even love me anymore?” You asked him, your voice breaking. 

“Of course, more than anything… where is this coming from?” 

You just shrugged and laid back. You didn’t mind that he didn’t propose as much as the fact that he gave Elain something that reminded of her while he gave to you a pair of simple earrings…and he knew that you didn’t even wear earrings. 

He opened his mouth to speak again but quickly shut it as you turned your back on him and tried to sleep. 

Azriel was confused because he didn’t feel any disappointment down the bond, just jealousy. He thought about it and then it hit him…he gave Elain -with whom you had a problem- a thoughtful gift while he gave you something that you didn’t even use. He felt even worse and with a groan he fell back and stared at the ceiling.

The morning came and you woke up alone in bed…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

“Why didn’t you tell her?” Rhysand exclaimed.

“Because I don’t want to ruin this too.” Azriel sighed. “I met her a few days before you were trapped under the mountain so our first years as mates were not easy, then she moved to the house of wind where everyone was mourning you and we didn’t even have a ceremony for accepting the bond, she just brought a piece of apple pie in our room and offered it to me…. The next days I was busy helping Mor, Cassian and Amren rule Velaris and  we didn’t even celebrate our bond. I can’t let anything destroy the proposal too.” 

Cassian walked into Rhysand’s office and Azriel immediately pounced on him.

“You fucking idiot” -punch

“Why didn’t you say something?” -punch 

“You fucking stole my ring” -punch 

“You stole my moment" -punch, punch 

The warlord was accepting the punishment knowing that he messed up, only when the high lord pulled Azriel back he dared to speak. 

“I’m so sorry brother… I was shocked I didn’t know what to do…and Nesta was so excited… I couldn’t find it in my heart to destroy the moment” he avoided Azriel’s gaze, the shame consuming him. 

“I. Want. My. Ring. Back.” The shadowsinger growled, pausing between each word. 

“Okay…” Cassian mumbled and left. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You were sitting in your room staring out the window… you wondered if Elain came here sooner would Azriel still want you to accept the mating bond? You doubted that and pain filled your heart. 

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts and Nesta walked in.

“Heyyyy, I was wondering if you would like to come with me to the store where Cassian got me the ring, I want to ask them how to maintain it clean” she said and stretched her hand out staring at the ring.

“Sure” you shrugged and got up. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Feyre came and winnowed the three of you to the store, you walked in gaping at all the jewels there… the store was really expensive. 

“Hello, I recently got engaged and I wanted to ask how to clean this” Nesta asked the salesman and showed him the ring.

“Ooh yeah, you must be y/n” he smiled, you glanced up but he wasn’t looking at you, he was talking to Nesta. 

“The shadowsinger was so excited when he found this ring, he kept saying how shiny it was  just like your eyes” he continued and Nesta gulped. You were staring wide-eyed, your jaw almost touched the floor but thankfully Feyre pushed it back in place. 

“Azriel bought this?” Feyre asked. 

“Yes my lady, your husband was here too, he was helping the shadowsinger choose.” 

“What about Cassian?” Nesta asked and the salesman gave her a questioning look. 

“The warlord, the general of the armies… the brute with the red siphons” she explained and you and Feyre snorted at the last remark. 

“Oh yes. He was here first he got a beautiful set of earrings” 

And then it hit you, somehow the two idiots mixed their presents. Nesta growled and turned around marching out.

“Thank you” Feyre smiled and pulled you out.

 Nesta was pacing…

“Y/n I’m so sorry” she said when she saw you. 

“It’s okay Ness” you smiled.

“Why didn’t the idiot say something? Oh he is sleeping outside today” she growled.

“I think he just didn’t want to ruin the moment, you were really excited” your voice was soft as you spoke.

“Yeah but we ruined your moment” she pushed 

“It’s okay I’m used to it” you shrugged with a sad smile. 

She gave you the ring.

“I think this belongs to you” 

You placed it on your finger and stared.

“The stone is the same color as Azriel’s siphons” Feyre noted.

“Yeah I was confused about that too” Nesta shrugged. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Dinner was served and you and the girls walked inside the dining room taking your usual seats. Azriel glanced at you with a worried look and Cassian whispered something to Nesta… she shook her head and smirked.

The room buzzed with conversation and everything felt normal again, you reached for the wine bottle in front of Azriel, the ring on display. Azriel was taking a sip from his wine and the moment his eyes fell on the ring he choked, spraying the wine all over the table making everyone stop and look at you. 

You giggled while Nesta and Feyre smiled.

“Where… how…when?” Azriel was blurting out questions. 

“We went to the shop today and the salesman called Nesta by my name so we figured” you shrugged and smiled. 

Cassian’s eyes widened and he pushed his chair back, he glanced at Nesta and with a quick “oh shit” he jumped up and ran away, Nesta following suit.

Azriel smiled softly and took your hand in his own, pressing a small kiss on the back of your palm. 

“I didn’t want this to happen like this…. We deserve one good moment” he whispered.

“Being in the dining room with all our family is a pretty good moment…” you smiled “and maybe we can lock Cassian in a cell on our wedding day” 

Azriel burst into laughter and pulled you in his arms. 

“I promise to give you the most amazing wedding day” he smiled and kissed you. 

Requests are open!

[myafterlifeisbetterthenyours]

Lewd Request:

Hey I was wondering if you could do a lewd Striker x male reader, something along the lines of the festival and the main character made a bet with striker he'd beat him but they lose so Striker has his way with him. Love your stories.

A bets a bet

You weren't particularly fond of the new field hand.

Sure, the man was good at his work.

He could shoot, and hunt and ride with the best of them, but something was... off.

Nobody was that good and that proud.

Of course, you couldn't say much, he may boast like a snakeoil salesman but like you'd said, he was as capable as any worker you'd ever had, if not more so.

And while you tried to ignore the man, much to your annoyance, he seemed to take a special liking to you.

The man often 'helping' you with chores, or coming along if you had to head into town.

His favourite was teasing you.

It started with a few comments here and there, teasing if you screwed something up, or had some issue or other.

Then it became general teasing and prodding, the man loving to get a rise out of you.

Though you could often get him back, the man usually either impressed or annoyed with your come bqcks, leaving you alone for a while.

Although, after a night of drinking with some of your siblings and farmhands.

Hed be teasing you, yet again, making some snarky comment on how often you got your dick wet, and after a few too many drinks and a serious lapse in judgement, you made an off handed comment on how if he wasn't such a prick, you probably would have been all over him.

And you immediately regretted it, cause that man perked up like a Hellhorse spotting a prime-rib.

After that, Striker only became more persistent.

It was never quite forceful enough for you to get creeper out. But he was certainly persistent. The sheer number of times he'd bitten his lower lip, giving you those playful "fuck me" eyes, was more then enough to haunt your dreams.

And while he could be a total pain in the ass, he was also really useful, so you put up with it, simply rolling your eyes when he made a less then subtle comment to you.

And you totally weren't into him.

Sure he was swave and confident and Very capable, and could probably ride you like he did bombproof-

Nope! You didn't think like that. No matter haw many times.

Or think about his skills with rope.

Mind drifting off to that one time he'd managed to tie you up, man sitting on your back as he practically purred in your ear.

Nope! None of that!

But, past all the flirting, you had a formidable rivalry.

Of course you always played it off.

You didn't care if he won some stupid race or could shoot something, or won some wrestling match. What do you care, not like a single win meant anything.

Unless you won.

In which case you felt like King of the Ring, and was sure to rub it in his face.

Until you lost a match of shooting, that bastard hitting one more can then you.

It was quite the roller-coaster.

At least for humble farm life.

Having been bested one time too many, you snapped, demanding a rematch.

At that he grew a wicked grin across his tanned facad, telling you he'd agree, buuut, if he won, he wanted something.

Hesitant, you'd ask what he wanted, the man moving forwards, arm on either side of you, pinning you to a fence, telling you smugly.

"A Kiss."

You, Red faced, woukd agree, telling him it wouldn't matter cause you'd win.

And you Aaaaallllmmmoooossssttt did.

Almost being the key and only word.

Hitting the last can, but failing to knock it off.

So, Striker, all smirks, strutted up, expecting a kiss.

And so, you gave him one.

Kissing his cheek.

Striker, cocked a brow, you telling him smugly.

"You wanted a kiss. Never said where you wanted it."

You spoke casually, taking your small victory in stride.

Though unfortunately, you set a precedence with that little incident, as after this, any time you competed, Striker managed to slip a bet in there.

Though none were as bold as the first one.

Usually little things. Making you call him sir or having you follow him around for a day.

And while it they were fairly innocent, if annoying, things, there was always a heavy sexual undertone.

He never stopped chasing you, he just chose a more... passive, method.

But, after a particularly hot night, you snuck out, ending up out in a field half naked, relaxing against a fence, enjoying what little breeze there was.

Of course, Striker would appear, he too half naked, man shirtless with only his hat and Ascot, the two of you just standing there for a while, in a peaceful silence as the breeze blew across the field.

After a while he'd finally pipe up, asking if you were gonna compete in the harvest moon games.

You'd hum, telling him you probably would, before asking why.

Striker, in an odd moment of seriousness stood there, peering at you with those ringed yellow eyes, the same ones that had haunted far too many of your dreams.

The man, turning to you, would ask if you wanna make a bet on it.

You, swallowing, would nod, telling him. 'Sure.'

So, getting off his fence, he walked over and in a surprising display of boldness would pin you to the fence, voice low, shimmer of his tail ringing out.

He wanted you.

He was sick of the games, the little bets, your 'rivalry', he was going all in, he wanted you.

So, if he won, he wanted you.

Standing there, chest to chest, the man peering intently into your eye.

You, red faced, blood rushing to the one place you didn't need it, would stand there.

And well, call it a weak will or your will being chipped away after so many months, or perhaps a large part of you wanted this all along, you agreed, telling him yes, may the best man win.

To which Striker smirked, chest to naked chest, leaning in and breathing hot in your ear.

"Don't worry... I will~"

And so, the next few days zipped by in the blink of the eye.

You didn't see Striker much, and when you did he usually just smirked, eyeing you in a fashion that always left you red faced, pants suddenly tightening.

And so, the day finally arrived. You and the family loading into the truck and rolling into town, Striker riding Bombproof besides you, the man giving you an occasion glance, you pretending you hadn't been staring.

The town was lively, and all the townsfolk were a flurry of activity, preparing to either join or enjoy the games.

You prepared as well, limbering, stretching, just getting ready.

Striker however, just stood there, leaning against a fencing, man chewing on a wheat stalk. The man occasionally glancing back at you.

You didn't say anything to him, not willing to let him mess with your mind any more.

Eventually, you got to the games.

You excelled.

As did Striked.

Both of you far surpassing the regular saps that participated.

You were faster, but Striker was more nimble.

Not evenly matched, but you certainly pushed yourself.

You both put in your best show, and it was a close fight, you working harder then you'd ever worked before, really pushing yourself to your limit.

And after pulling, jumping, running and wrestling. You fought, and bit, there being more than a few fatalities from each of you.

It was a tie!

Nah, Striker won.

Some asshole had just miscounted your score.

Striker won.

And hearing that, you just stood there.

It took a minute to sink in, and while you realised just what happened, Striker seemed to relish the news, bathing in the crowds applause.

A flurry of emotion hit you, your head seemingly spinning. But the most concerning part of it all was you weren't... you weren't upset.

You were a little annoyed, angry even at losing, but that felt more like being upset at losing the games.

Not the bet.

Striker, surprising you, didn't come up and boast. Instead he joined the crowd of adoring fans, the lot of them all heading off to celebrate.

So, knowing the fate before you, you joined, snatching a comedically large jug with 4 large Xs on the side, drinking at your pleasure.

Eventually you'd end up in the town bar, sipping your drink, you and Striker staring at each other from across the bar.

You refused to make the first move, yet as the minutes ticked by, you became restless, constantly looking back at the man.

The cowboy simply standing there, peering at you with that seductive little smile, sipping his own drink, seemingly content in his position.

You eventually grew tired of the waiting, and shotgunning your drink, you stormed over to the snake.

Of course, he wore that Victorious smirk of his, standing there as you approached.

You scowled, storming up to him, stopping just before him.

The man smiled, popping an olive into his mouth, giving you a royal shit eating grin.

You snorted, simply standing there.

You told him bluntly to get on with it then!

Striker just smirked, looking you over, the fucking snake was relishing this.

After a few minutes, he asked what ever could you mean? And so, snapping at him that he was an Ass, you grabbed the man, dragging the him upstairs.

Striker just went along with it, smirking as he finshed his drink, discarding the bottle as he stumbled upstairs.

Reaching some bedroom, you didn't care who's it was, you dragged the man towards the bed.

But before you could throw him onto it, he suddenly whipped out of your grasp, the man slipping his neckerchief and seamlessly binding your hands with them, tying them behind your back before throwing you onto the bed.

The man, slipping his jacket off, working on his shirt as his tail slammed the door shut, his eyes the only thing visible, that and his golden tooth as he smirked a victors smirk.

You lay there, red faced, drunk and extremely aroused as the man climbed atop you, the clink of his belt being undone and the shimmer of his tail filling the air as he lean, the snake getting close, alcohol ladened breath on your neck as he growlwd out.

"Don't worry darlin', I'll make sure you enjoy this as much as I will~"

The man purring before he bit your neck, forcing a lewd moan from your lips.

•••

You awoke the next morning a mess.

You were sore.

You had more bite marks and hand shaped bruises on your ass then you cared to count.

Your hair was a total mess, clothes in tatters after being practically torn off you by the snake, and you were still recovering physically and mentally from everything that happened the night before.

You hissed as Bombproof bumped upwards, you clinging to Striker, the man being your only ride back to the homestead as your family had left the night before.

You didn't say anything, neither did Striker, though, the snake didn't need too.

The man simply wore a smirk, that smirk saying it all.

"I won."

And the annoying part, that was he was right.

Though even as you got home, hissing as you slid off the horse, gritting your teeth as you shambled back to the house. All the way there, able to feel the snake's gaze on your back.

And while you knew he'd be insufferable after this, likwly even more forward then ever the thing that really got to you, was knowing that there was no way this was gonna be the last time.

And even as you stumbled, collapsing atop your bed, body and rear sore, you wondered what came next with that smug sexy asshat of a snake man.

[baronessvonglitter]

Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight

Max Phillips x gn!reader

Word count: 1.7K

Summary: When your vampire boyfriend Max Phillips agrees to turn you, you enjoy one last day as a mortal.

WARNINGS: Rated T, reader is gender neutral, established relationship, some kissing and fluff (as fluffy as Max can get), mentions of vampirism and ways a vampire can be hurt/injured, mentions of blood drinking, one mention of "intimacy" but is not detailed, no gore, mentions of eating food, reader wears a hoodie but is otherwise not described, use of hypnotism, mentions of being bitten, no use of y/n.

Author's Note: This work is for the jolabrew + withcheese fall challenge 🧡 I chose Max Phillips and apple picking 🍎

I'd kept this idea on the very, very back burner because honestly I love the mythology about vampires, and I wanted a soft!Max story, just to shake things up, and this fic challenge helped kickstart that idea into motion. There was absolutely zero information on our guy Max, so I just kind of messed with the lore and added some good ol' vampire myths just for fun 😊 Also, "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was meant to be a vampire love song, hence the title I used 🖤 (Side note: if you don't already squeeze lemon on your apple slices I highly suggest it. It keeps them from turning brown and gives them a little sour bite if you don't like them too sweet)

Thank you to @jolapeno and @goodwithcheese for hosting this lovely challenge!

divider by @strangergraphics👑

Honestly, you made your choice two seconds after Max told you he was a vampire. There were no two ways about it: if he was one, you wanted to be one too.

"Honey.. you need to think about this seriously. It's not some knee-jerk decision. We're talking about the rest of your life.. or afterlife.. unlife?.. that's at stake here."

"You'll outlive me one day," you reminded him. "I don't want that to happen." You snuggled against him, feeling how warm he was, though now that he'd revealed his secret, you started to feel the cold that seeped through his skin, was ever-present in the physiology that still made him a human male, but also something else.. some preternatural creature that was just under the surface. Hiding.. or suppressed.

"I try not to think about that. I haven't been undead that long," he admitted. "Can't we be happy with what we have now?"

It stung, but you tried not to take it too personally. Max was the type to say whatever thought flitted across his brain, be it snarky or sweet, though around others it typically tended towards the former.

From then on, once he knew you would keep his secret, once he put that trust in you that he didn't place in anyone else, you had so many (too many) questions to ask, and Max was as open as he could be regarding your curiosity. Yes, he could walk around in the daytime, but it was a necessity to slather himself in the highest grade SPF that he could only purchase online from a small business in Romania and cost ten times as much as you made in an hour at your job. And it explained why he always had a scent of coconuts beneath the layer of Tom Ford cologne he practically bathed in.

There were some things that could kill him, primarily a stake through the heart. Garlic and holy water made his eyes water and skin burn, temporarily subduing his powers, and you understood why he dissuaded you from eating Italian food when you started dating.

Speaking of the powers (and that was a huge point of curiosity for you), he had strength, speed, hypnosis (although he preferred the term 'powers of persuasion' -- ever the salesman, that one.) Drinking blood powered him, made him strong, and he managed to drink a little to get him through the day, only succumbing to his deeper cravings after hours.

It was this part he didn't want to talk about. He didn't like you thinking of him prowling after his prey, planning his attack, taking what he needed from unsuspecting victims. He'd drunk from you during moments of intimacy, the small, sweet sting of his fangs was something you'd come to like, but you knew it had to be different for those he hunted. You could paint your own picture of such a scenario-- you'd seen enough movies and read enough Anne Rice and Charlaine Harris to put the pieces together of how he had to survive in the shadows.

If anything, it only further endeared him to you.

But when you'd try to press the issue all he did was sidestep it.. at first. When you were persistent he was firm, telling you in no uncertain terms, "No."

"Do you not think I have what it takes?" you'd asked.

"Babe, I don't doubt your ability--"

"Do you just want to keep all your vampiric secrets to yourself?"

He'd sputtered out a laugh despite trying to keep a serious facade. "You're being ridiculous now."

"Then.." you'd used your puppy dog eyes on him, "you don't love me?"

He'd taken your face in his hands, his gaze insistent. "Don't say that. Ever. Okay?" He'd kissed your forehead, taking in the scent of you, just at your hairline.

You'd been patient, dropping hints until one day you'd stopped, a part of you giving up.

But Max didn't like seeing you unhappy.

"All right, all right," he'd relented one night, during a viewing of American Psycho while hanging out at your place. "If you really want me to turn you, I'll do it."

"Max, you will? Really?" you'd beamed with excitement.

"Yes, sweetheart. If you really want it, I'll do it for you."

You'd pounced on him, kissing him as he pulled you down on the sofa with him, the sounds of Patrick Bateman chasing his victim with a chainsaw playing in the background.

You decide on a date: mid-October, your favorite time of year when the leaves crackle underfoot, and there's the sweet odor of chimney smoke in the air. Max tells you you should spend the last day of your human life doing whatever you want to do, and though it's something small, though it probably ranks low on most people's list of priorities before they begin a new life as a vampire, you tell him you want to go apple picking.

A part of you is relieved that Max doesn't poke fun at you, which he usually does when you tell him you want to watch Dead Poets Society instead of The Wolf of Wall Street, or when you'd rather go on the Ferris wheel than the Zipper with him at the carnival.

You typically play it safe, and he respects your playing it safe with your last day as a mortal, because he loves you.

The apple orchard is an hour and a half away, and Max holds your hand over the center console during the entire drive, letting you choose the radio station, and you spot the small twitch of his eye when you turn up the volume on a Taylor Swift song. He keeps his thoughts to himself but his opinion is written plain on his face. Ever the peacemaker, you switch the radio to an oldies station, listening to Bonnie Tyler belting out "Total Eclipse of the Heart" and even though Max refuses to sing along with you, a smile curves the corners of his pretty mouth as he indulges in your joy.

Upon arrival you jump out before the car is even in park, and are greeted with the scent of the sweet and crisp fragrance of the orchard. The skies above are pale blue, tinged with gold from the late afternoon sun's delicate rays. Grey threatens in the corners of the firmament, and you recall checking your phone's weather app and seeing there would be rain that night. You've come on the right day.

Max grabs your hand as you join the others in line, some families with young kids, some couples, and when he's not expecting it you plant a soft kiss on his cheek. Not typically one for PDA, he one-ups you by taking you in his arms and practically bending you backward in a passionate display of romance, lips claiming yours. "My baby doesn't deserve to wait in line," he whispers, and with a devilish grin he pulls you to the front of the line where the cashier is taking payment.

"We don't need to pay," Max tells her, and from the look in the woman's eyes you can tell he's mesmerizing her with his powers.

"You don't need to pay," she repeats in a monotone, handing over a wicker basket for you to collect the apples.

Max smiles at her charmingly, pulling you along as you enter the apple orchard.

There's a chill in the air as you walk into the wide expanse of land, the green of the apple trees and the ruby fruit of their production providing the perfect backdrop for your date. You cross your arms over your hoodie just as Max puts his arm around you.

"I'll never get cold, just like you," you wonder aloud, thinking ahead to your immortal life.

"Right. One of the perks," he grins. He's wearing a dark grey nylon bomber jacket, hair perfectly coiffed, and even though other people are checking him out as you walk by, he only has eyes for you. "You'll never grow old, either. You'll still be hot. Like me," he grins.

"Which ones look good?" he asks, directing your view to the apples red and ripe, swelling with sweetness, their tangy aroma dancing in the air.

You look up and select a few, holding each one in the palm of your hand before twisting the stem off and placing it in the basket looped around your arm. Max watches you, in awe of your thought process, and the careful way in which you make your selections. When the basket gets too heavy he carries it for you.

"Are you going to eat all of these tonight?" he hides a smile.

"Don't underestimate me," you tell him. "I might just do that."

He envisions what your blood will taste like later, at the time of your turning: bitter with hints of spice and sweet, the flavor inhabiting every blood vessel, flooding into his mouth as he begins the process of forever changing you.

Soon the basket is brimming over with sweet, tart apples. Some of them fall out of the basket on the walk back to the car, leaving a scarlet dotted trail behind you.

At home, you gorge yourself on the crisp flesh of your fresh-picked apples in all your favorite forms: sliced plain with a drizzle of lemon juice, some dipped in caramel, others covered in crunchy red candy. Your lips are sticky and sweet when Max kisses you, savoring the warmth of your skin that, come tomorrow, will be colder, room temperature at best, but still soft, still delicious.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his eyes glinting, irises blown full black, like a shark detecting blood in the water around him. You're settled on the sofa, hands linked, fingers intertwined as your heart races. Max senses it and his tongue flicks out across his pink lips.

"Yes," you answer, and for a brief, sweet moment your life flashes before your eyes, a memoriam to all the things you held dear, the good and the awful, the trail of tiny moments, the heartbreaks you thought you'd never heal from, that ultimately led you to Max and the love you uncovered within him as you broke through his egotistical outer shell.

You kept his promise. He knows his trust is well-placed.

As you offer your neck, the last thing you see before you close your eyes is the Castlevania poster Max gave you for Christmas last year, hanging on the wall above the sofa.

Only the death matters now..

You hear the click of his fangs protracting. Soon you'll be just like him. You have no regrets.

"Thank you, Max," you whisper before you feel the hot sting of his bite on your tender throat. "Thank you for the best day of my life."

[bigfan-fanfic]

Reclaim (Male!Reader x Dean Winchester)

Could I request Dean's bf taking him out to just spend a day or two doing whatever childhood things he never got to do, no matter how much he huffs about it not being a big deal.  Just fluff and carthartic stuff, that kind of thing

A grumpy bearded man glares at you from a swingset that is far too small for him, his bowed legs bent pretty far.

"Are you happy now?"

You chuckle. "You didn't even swing."

"It's too small."

"Then go use the big boy set. Not my fault you wanted to go for the kiddie swings."

He huffs and stands indignantly.

you laugh harder. "This was kinda supposed to be fun, Dean."

"But, like... this is all kid's stuff."

"You're never too old for some of this stuff!" you cry, and pull him along to the swings. "Don't you have any fun stuff you used to do as a kid?"

"Uh... target practice with Dad?"

"Wow. Yeesh."

"What?"

"So, like... you never really got to have a childhood."

"Dude. You can't just say crap like that to someone's face. Besides, it's not a big deal. I can-"

"I know what we're doing today!"

"Oh boy."

You challenge Dean to see who can get higher on the swings before you chicken out - mainly to stop your competitive boyfriend from trying to go all the way over.

And then when you hear the tinny calliope noises of an ice cream truck you go running, calling out for Dean to come with you, and you both chase down the truck.

It's silly and stupid, but then the ice cream salesman tells you about the fair in town, and you give Dean an excited stare.

"......"

"...."

"...fine."

Dean usually doesn't get to stay in any town long enough for any local events, so a county fair is still relatively new to him.

The overwhelming amount of sight and sound is enough to burst his bubble of attempted adult disapproval, and you catch a glimpse of the goofy kid he probably would have been.

He grins, and eventually takes the lead in pulling you to the different attractions.

You gorge yourself on fried county fair food - Dean is in fried heaven, defying all the angels to come up with a food better than the fried oreo, but even his insatiable appetite can't conquer a huge funnel cake with a dollop of ice cream that won't even melt all the way on the hot day because it's so big - not without your assistance.

You make him do the petting zoo, and he tries to impress you at the dunk tank, pitching a fastball that sends some cute local guy splashing.

He wins you prizes, accepts those you win for him, and admits that it's probably just about as fun as that time his dad took him into a bar for the first time and showed him how to hustle pool.

For now, you'll take it.

He even lets you drive home, since he's tuckered himself out so much. You let him lean against you, and you grin to yourself when you hear him quietly ask-

"Can we go again tomorrow?"

[crazyskirtlady]

The Dragon's Eye Amulet

genderfluid! reader X human male

content: you are a demonic entity, shape shifted into an amulet of power, you grant the wearer of your amulet wishes of their desires...for a price

warnings: demon, shape shifting, fem&male genitalia, yandere vibes, forced/coerced, bondage, pain, blood, gawk gawk 5k, le anale penetratíon

From the moment he picked up the amulet that contained you...

Immediately you could see the vanity in his eyes, the shallow desires that filled him are what attracted him to the cursed amulet, to you, in the first place, and you gleamed knowing he would be perfect to feed upon.

Prihyom purchased the gold, dragon shaped, red jeweled bauble from the glib salesman (an associate of yours) who confidently promised it would empower the wearer with all they could desire and more...

He took the amulet home and adorned himself, prancing about his room admiring his reflection. And you exuded aura from the sparkling gem, a glamour he could see and feel...

He couldn't take you off, the red and gold necklace suited him so perfectly, emboldened him and he could hardly keep his hands off the intricate design and bejeweled filigree. He took out his phone and admired himself again and again in the screen. And you glowed brilliantly, fueling his pride into conceit.

Prihyom could not even take the amulet off to sleep, and stoking it as he lay in bed he dozed in and out of sleep, and you whispered to him...

"Tell me what you most desire..."

Clutching the amulet in his hands he mumbled softly, asking to be even more handsome, he wanted to become achingly, stunning beautiful!

And of course you obliged him.

The next days everyone who saw him fawned on him, commenting on his pleasing features, dewey smooth skin, eyes bright as copper, hair black as night. Prihyom was beside himself in amazement, his physical transformation was like a miracle!

But it wasn't enough of course, having had a taste of your power Prihyom felt the amulet to be something otherworldly. He could feel your presence, though he did not know it was you yet. And so, in bed, in the dark of the night, stroking the amulet, he murmured to you, about being the most popular and most liked among his peers. He wanted to have the charm to become affluent and adored!

And of course you obliged him.

And the next days you watched as he was flooded with a thousand new friends, dates, party invitations, engagements of all types. And he was so happy, busy enough that he seemed satiated...but only for a bit.

Because he was again clutching you, clutching the amulet in the night whispering to you in a desperately needy voice, oh! He wanted wealth now! Wanted people to throw money at him! And now you chuckled to yourself knowing he was irrevocably bound by your power as you again granted his demand.

In the next days an offer was made for him to become an entertainer, with his tantalizing good looks, his supernatural charm and smile, all it took was a wink and a flick of his silky mane to have people sending money to him in all forms.

With his newly acquired wealth he stepped into a better quality of life. Bigger lodging, fancier decor, amenities to impress his many friends and many more eager lovers...

Now Prihyom knew without a shadow of doubt that his amulet was magickal, that you were powerful magick and he was filled with greed for whatever he could summon from you. He was hungry for more!

More!

Now the time was ripe.

It was time for him to pay the price for all he had asked of you...

In the night your spirit poured like a mist from the amulet, transmogrifying gold into flesh, jewel into bone and teeth and eye. Standing over Prihyom sleeping peacefully in his bed you grin and stretch oh! It has been awhile since you have taken on a physical form!

Glancing down at your fearsome visage you decide perhaps a more feminine form would be preferable in this instance. Smoothing your skin, sprouting long flowing hair, shaping delicate, feminine features vaguely similar to his own; as Prihyom had become quite narcissistically vain.

Sitting down in the bed next to him, you reach out and run your fingers along his jaw, cupping his chin you tilt his head back slightly so you can examine his handsome face closely. The small movements make him grumble and stir, his hand grasping yours in a half conscious reflex. His eyes open and focus on you in confusion, he startles and tries to sit up but you have already weighed him down with your presence, demonic paralysis now makes his jaw drop and his uplifted hand slump down.

You chuckle and click your tongue at him.

"My dear, sweet Prihyom, you didn't even bother to question the powers of the amulet that granted your every whim, and now..." You grin wickedly and watch growing fear widen his eyes. You reign in your power, allowing him the freedom to gasp and cough.

"Who...are you?" He manages to choke out the words.

"Now you ask ah? The golden amulet you wore everyday for weeks? It was I that granted your plaintive wishes no? Gave you everything your little heart desired." You stroke his face, letting your fingers linger on his lips.

"You?! The dragon necklace is...was you?! This whole time you were trapped within? Listening to me?"

"Not trapped, just a different form, and I didn't just listen, oh no...I watched you as well..." Your voice lowered to a husky whisper as you trail your hand through his silky black hair and watch a deep blush redden his cheeks. Quickly Prihyom turned away from your touch to hide his face.

"Aww, did I not give you everything you asked for?" You pout at him while he stutters

"I didn't...I mean I don't...well yes...but I couldn't have known the necklace was...was you?"

You lean close to him and notice his breathing speed up, you can hear his heart racing and it makes you smile in excitement.

"Aren't you satisfied with everything I have done for you?" You let your mouth hover over his while he pants and gulps air, his chest is heaving and sweat is starting to bead on his forehead. His cheeks are bright red now.

"What...what are you doing? What are you going to do!?" If he could, he would be thrashing, but your power holds him still.

"You didn't think I did all that for free did you? My dear, I feed off of you in exchange for what I gave!" You press your lips over his and suck the air right out of his lungs, pulling his face tightly against yours as you force your tongue into his mouth. Prihyom grunts, struggling to turn his face away again.

You pull back, anger reverting your hands back to their large, scaled form, grabbing his face firmly you stare intensely into his eyes.

"You are already mine Prihyom! From the first wish I granted you we became linked inexorably! If you want to break our partnership, then I will simply revoke all that I have granted to you!" You growl at him, letting him see your true demonic form for but an instant, power raging like fire inside your eyes.

Prihyom gasps and swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut against the image of your demonic form. You relax your features back into the pleasant mask you created for him. Stroking his head with your human hands you plant a kiss on his forehead.

"Don't fear me, I have been watching you all these months and have enjoyed doing everything I did for you. And I can do even more..."

"...if you will let me..."

You can sense him thinking about all the wonderful luck and prosperity that has befallen him since you came into his life; his physical transformation, his popularity, his charm, his wealth...

His eyes open tentatively and, seeing you gazing at him in such a lovely form he can't help but blush again.

"What...what will you do to me?" Prihyom whimpers, fear fills his voice, but his body betrays him, you can feel heat and tension building... elsewhere in him...you smile again and he knows you are well aware of his conflicting feelings.

"Oh I think you already know what I will do with you, don't you?" You push your body up against his, letting him feel the soft curves of your human form. You slid one hand under his shirt and up his chest, allowing a single claw to manifest itself, making a thin scratch into his skin, just enough to sting a bit, not enough to draw blood...yet...

Prihyom yelps, his breathing growing erratic again as you press his body into the bed underneath you, listening to his racing heart, feeling the heat radiating from his groin against yours. You twirl a finger into his hair and lock eyes with him, the intensity of your gaze has him hypnotized. Slowly you bring your lips to his and kiss him softly, savoring his taste again and again with small, sensual kisses that leave him breathless.

Sitting up you staddle his body between your thighs, and with a flick of your wrist all clothes are gone, nothing between your skin and his but air and heat. Prihyom nearly hyperventilates, taking in the entirety of your human form and you allow yourself a little giggle of pride for creating such an alluring physical shape after so many years of not having made one at all!

"You like what you see? I fashioned it just for you!"

You grab his limp hands, still paralyzed by your power, and guide them along the soft skin of your thighs, up your stomach and chest, pausing to hold them against your ample breasts. Prihyom moans, able to feel everything and not able to so much as twitch a finger. You delight in his helplessness, sliding his fingers gently along your nipples. It feels so good you grind your hips down against his body and hear him gasp and moan. Watching his face fill with desire as you lick and suck his finger, feeling his need as a growing firmness where your body and his meet. You lean down to kiss him deeply, his tongue meeting yours eagerly now. You devour his mouth in yours, drinking in his growing lust for you as a fine wine. Freeing him from the paralysis just enough to indulge him, Prihyom instantly wraps his arms around you and bucks his hips upward trying to bring the warm hollow of your body against his hard shaft. You immobilize his body completely again and laugh at his groaned frustration.

Now, you shift your form just a bit, and using your whip-like prehensile tail you firmly pin his arms above his head as your demon tongue lashes against his neck and slides downward, licking and tickling at the inner fold of his arms until he squeals, then flicking around his nipples making him whine nervously. You tease and suck his nipples until they are hard little nubs.

You know exactly what he wants, as you move lower on his body, feeling his muscles tense under the paralysis hold you still have on him and when your long, thick tongue begins to wrap around the hardened, aching shaft of his desire, Prihyom lets out a deep moan. You swallow his whole member with ease and swirl your tongue around and over the sensitive tip. Wanting to feed deeply upon his lust you again release your hold on his body and he is immediately thrusting desperately into your throat, his hands struggling against the strength of your tail. Your extra long tongue slurps the whole length of his shaft and curls down towards the more tender organs below. You can feel his legs trembling, his muscles tensing as he nears the peak, glancing up you watch his eyes roll back, his breathing all but stopped as he loses himself in ecstasy. You can taste him, swallowing his very essence, you drink in his vitality and feel it stoke your power like coal in a furnace.

As his body goes limp from expending himself you quickly flip him over, burying his face in the bed. Allowing yourself to partially revert to your demonic form you grab his hips in your large scaled hands, drawing a yelp from him as you plunge your huge tongue deep into his most intimate hole. He is howling like a madman while you tongue fuck him, your drool dripping down between his cheeks gripped tight in your claws. You feel him loosening up, thrusting himself back onto your tongue with eager abandon, chasing the wild throbbing feeling of your tongue stimulating his g-spot. You quickly draw back, making him whimper, loudly needy. As you position your even larger demonic appendage between his dripping wet cheeks, you pause, letting him feel the size difference of your monstrous phallus. Before he can turn or struggle you grip his hair and shove him down into the bed, thrusting yourself deep into his body at the same time. The mattress muffles his wailing as you slide your wickedly barbed shaft in and out of his tight hole, his muscles spasm, squeezing you so tight you stop moving and just enjoy the feel of his body struggling underneath you. Controlling the tip of your phallic appendage as easily as you could your finger or tongue, you find his sweet spot again and apply pressure to it as you grind your hips into his backside. It's all too much for Prihyom, he screams into his bed, his body shuddering as he cums again. The way his body clenches around your shaft as he bucks in ecstasy sends you over the edge as well. A terrifying roar bursts from your chest as you cum with him, your claws grip his skin too tightly, drawing blood in 5 fierce lines across his thighs. You fill his hole with your hot load and collapse atop him, nearly crushing him with your demon form. Panting and breathless you still manage to keep some sense and bring your body back to your smaller human form, but keep your demon phallus buried deep in him for a moment longer.

When you finally release him and roll off his back he is so silent you fear for a second you might have suffocated him! But then he too rolls over gasping for air, tears in his eyes. His beautiful hair is a tangled mess and his gorgeous face is red and marked from being shoved into the bed. You grab his shoulder firmly and pull him into an embrace, smattering his face with kisses.

"Is...our partnership... maintained...?" Prihyom gasps out. A deep rumbling laughter vibrates inside you.

"Yes indeed my sweet." You cradle him in your arms, despite your current smaller form your presence envelopes him completely, holding him as physically as your paralysis had. You stroke his hair mindlessly, listening to his breathing slow, thinking he has fallen asleep.

"You are frightening...and incredible...I...I like our... partnership..." He sleepily mumbles into your arms.

You chuckle softly, caressing his face.

You suddenly feel his hand on your lower appendage, still in demon form. He thumbs the barbs and bumps, all soft and limp now.

"I like this part as well." He admits shyly.

[rierice8]

Last words of an old flame

Thank you for 100 followers guyss!! I was supposed to post a scara fic a long while back but I’ve been pretty busy, but then the next time I opened tumblr I had 100 followers?! So I decided to dedicate this scara fic to that milestone. Thanks a ton guys! And sorry for the long wait, this fic is super angsty too- OOPS! Turns out liquid smooth is not the kind of music I should write smut too…

Word count: 1921

Ftm Scaramouche/wanderer x male reader

TW: heavy mentions of memory loss, angst, degradation, semi public sex (forest), creampie, blowjob

You don't quite know when you’d first felt like this.

Perhaps it was as you saw him for the first time, sitting way up high, far from the busy bustling streets of Sumeru with that dejected look on his face. Or maybe it was as you caught another glimpse of the strange man as you were studying the forest, drenched from the summer heat. It could have been when you first spoke with him, calling him out for seemingly following you. Maybe it was as you spoke the second time, or the third. It could have been as he and you got closer, maybe as you played in the shallow waters of a nearby stream as a way to cool off. Perhaps it was his perfect physique, the way the water made his shirt stick against his torso, his muscles accented by the sleeveless black fabric. His hair dripping against his face and his sly smirk as he forces water your way.

But you don’t think it matters when you started feeling this way. Because it feels good. Too good.

Sitting alone in your room, fingers wrapped around your cock as you grunt and throw your head back to the thought of him. Skilfully going up and down to the rhythm you imagine pounding the man with. Staring at the pictures of him you took with your kamera, precum leaking down your cock. It was like your skin was on fire, though if it was really his touch it would feel all the better. You were completely unravelled all while thinking of him.

Him.

…

Who is he again?

It's been days, or maybe weeks since you’ve seen him. But who was he? You rack your brain yet you can't seem to remember his name, looking through your memory there seem to be blank places, places where his face should be. He meant so much to you, you know that much. He was your world, your light.

What was his name again?

Months go past and you’re sitting, face in your knees, photographs with what seems like blurs of what was a man all across the floor. It was like someone forced him from your memory. You were starting to forget the memories you shared. All that was left was the feeling. It was like sparks lighting against your skin, or that's what you remember it as, at least. A burning desire, a passion, a love for this…figure. This blur. If you didn’t know any better, it felt like someone had forcefully cut out his face from your memory. You miss him so.

Miss him?

Who again?

You walked down the streets of Sumeru city in the summer heat, buying some herbs for your morning tea.

“Thanks again for the windwheel asters, they’re so hard to get here!” You exclaimed. The salesman smiled and said it was nothing as you waved goodbye and set off again. Your next stop was the flower store, which brought you an immediate sense of dread, as it always does. The flowers made you think of something, but you don't know what. It's the same empty patch that kills you every time. You shake your head in an attempt to fix your thoughts.

There.

Your head darted upwards. A man you’d never seen before sat on the roof of some building. You’d never seen before? Yea… never before. His eyes were focused on you. You made direct eye contact with the stranger who sat above you. Who was he?

“Who are you?” You yelled up to the wanderer.

He looked at you cynically before letting out a ‘tsk’ and standing up, preparing to leave.

“No please! Tell me, I swear I must have met you before, something feels wrong about you,” you begged him. He slid down the side of the building before grabbing your arm and dragging your shocked self away from the busy roads. You didn’t question his antics, only following him deeper and deeper into the forests to the sides of the big city. His indigo hair flowing in the wind, his left hand holding his hat down to his head, pale shimmering skin holding your hand tight. He didn’t break a sweat from all the running, so you tried not to either, as not to embarrass yourself. Besides, you were quite well versed in combat, both with and without your vision. Yet running this far and long seems impossible with human stamina.

“Stop please,” you panted. He immediately stopped running and let go of your arm. You stumbled backwards and ended up falling over. He stood above you and cried,

“HOW CAN YOU TELL, HOW DO YOU KNOW!”

You shuffled yourself backwards and away from the angry man. What did you know?

“I don't know…I’m sorry. Who are you even, I feel like I’ve known you but whenever I try to think of you nothing comes up and it makes my blood boil!” You said shakely, eyes wide open. The mystery man took a step back, stumbling slightly as he covered his mouth with his hand and his eyes went glassy. As if realisation has struck him through the heart and it hurt.

“I love you,” he trembled out.

“You don't even know me?”

He knelt down to place himself on top of you, caressing your cheek with his burning palms. Pulling you into a kiss. Like habit you kissed back. He moved his lips against yours and like habit you closed your eyes and sighed into his mouth. He slid his tongue into your mouth and, like habit, you let him. His touch felt oh so familiar, like you’d felt it a million times before. As though the was he touched you was the same as the past. Like he was the missing piece in your memory.

You broke the kiss panting and staring wide eyed.

“Just who are you,” you whispered as you lent your head against his shoulder.

“Everything you do feels so right, but I can’t remember you.” He smiled, a sad smile, a small smile, but a smile nonetheless.

“I want you, my love,” he said with half lidded eyes.

And like habit,

You said yes.

Against a tree, deep in the forest, you ravaged this man who you’ve loved so much, yet who has been burnt from your memory. He stared up at you as his mouth worked your tip and his hands worked the base of your cock. Eyes tear filled yet perfect, seeming as though they were begging you to use his mouth as you pleased. Every time you moved slightly he’d moan around your cock, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. It was intoxicating, the way his pink lips worked so skilfully and as though they’ve been there before. As if they knew everything that made you come undone. You grabbed his head by his hair and forced him to take you all the way. He gagged before grabbing your thigh and letting you move his head as you pleased. His occasional moans were enough to get you burning on the inside, aching for him. Pulling him off your dick, he whined before you pulled him off the floor and pulled his shorts and panties right down. You lifted one of his legs above your shoulder to support him better before shoving a finger into his wet pussy, not needing any lube from how wet he already was. You pumped that one finger in and out of him slowly, painfully. You watched his face as he squirmed in pain.

“Hahh~ more, faster…please?” He moaned out.

You smiled at him as you pushed in one more finger and started moving them faster.

“Someone’s already all stretched out, like a good slut. I’m sure you were thinking of me a lot, hmm? Not being able to tell me who you are or show yourself really got to you, bad little whore.” You whispered into his ear.

“Mmfh! It- ah! It was so hard! I missed you too much~ ngh!” He groaned. You pulled your fingers out and licked them clean while staring him in the eye. You closed in and kissed him, letting him taste himself from your mouth. You moved down along his chest, giving him little hickeys and kisses along his whole neck and collar.

“Please…put it inside.” He begged. You smiled as you followed his begs. Aligning your dick with his sopping pussy before pushing in. It was almost like he was made for you, fitting you perfectly inside him. He moaned out loud and pulled your head down to his chest. You started moving, fast straight away, having no patience left to tease the wanderer anymore.

“Fuck, I feel as though I’ve done this before. Have I? Why don't you be a good little cock slut and tell me everything?” You say as you pull his hair so that he faces you.

“I- ah!! I can’t tell you~ mhfg, fuck me oh archons!” He whined. You furrowed your brows and sped up. Even now he couldn’t open his mouth.

Even now you were left in the dark.

You kissed him violently, smashing your lips together as you pounded his small frame and trailed your free hand up to twist and pinch his nipples. He moaned into your lips and you did nothing but speed up again. Chasing your own high.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum!” He moaned out.

“Then cum, slut.” And he did. He let out a long moan as he tried to close his legs, but you kept them open and continued so that you could feel release too.

“I can't any more n- no! Too sensitive~ ah!” He moaned, but you ignored his pleas.

“I don't even know your name yet I feel like I’ve fucked you senseless a million times. Yet you seem to know me so well, plastering yourself on me like some cheap whore,” you said, accentuating each word with a sharp thrust. The wanderer was a mess beneath your arms now. Crying and moaning at how good it feels.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you groan.

“Cum inside me- ngh!! Ah yes, please!!” He whined and begged. You smiled and nodded slightly, after all, you couldn’t refuse such a good boy. With a few more thrusts you came inside him, filling his pussy up with your cum. You stayed like that for a moment as you caught your breath.

“I wish I knew who you were, you know,” you sighed. The wanderer looked away from you, in a solemn way.

“And I wish I could tell you, but even if I did, you still wouldn’t remember me.” He whispered almost inaudibly. You sighed again and pulled out. The man gasped at the sudden emptiness. You pulled your own clothes back on before helping him out and dressing him again. You then picked him up and carried him back to yours.

As you came home, you lay him down in bed alongside you, already knowing that he would be gone before you next opened your eyes. But you silently prayed that he’d still be there. Yet before you fell asleep, you stared at him, letting all the details you’d long forgotten sink back in.

“I forgot how beautiful you were,” you smiled.

He said nothing in return, just blankly stared at you.

“I’m sorry.”

In the morning he was gone. Just as you’d predicted, any trace of him vanished, all that was left were his words echoing in your mind.

The last words of an old flame.

[lavender-romancer]

Fools

Part Two Tommy Shelby x Male Reader CW: internalised homophobia, sexual themes

You always felt that you were hiding or running from deep inside of you, this feeling that you weren't like other men around you. When you met Tommy it made sense but how could you explore these feelings?

AN: Tommy is not married to Lizzie and Ruby does not exist

”*°•.˜”*°•. ˜”*°•. ˜”*°••°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜.•°*”˜

previous part

As your car approached the Shelby Company Limited offices you debated whether this was a grave mistake. Could you honestly go into business with a man you dreamt about? A man that made you feel confused and excited all at once. How could such a man exist and entice you so furiously that you would travel all this way for the ability to see him?

You were shown into Thomas' office by his secretary, Lizzie. As you walked in Tommy was already on a phone call and didn't pay you any attention. Your pathetically hopeful heart sunk when he didn't even look your way as you sat down in an armchair in front of Tommy's desk.

"Can I get you a drink?" Lizzie asked and you turned to her with a smile.

"A whisky, please." You said and she soon came back with a glass that she placed on the table near you before exiting and closing the door.

Tommy was still on the phone so you lit up a cigarette. You looked around, taking in his office. It was much more professional looking than yours, which often had all your paperwork and books strewn around the room. You stood up and began walking round the room, looking at the photographs and grand furniture you wouldn't have expected in this part of England. One photo was him on his wedding day, next to a beautiful blonde woman and you sighed. Picking up the photo it was unmistakably him, the man you had been dreaming of. At this point it felt like sanity had been returned to the situation, there was no secret affection, no intimacy between you. It was a night of mistakes for Thomas, a night where he could try to forget he had a wife but she was still there.

"What are you looking at?" Tommy suddenly said and you placed down the photo.

"Your charming wedding photo, Mr Shelby." You went back into salesman mode plastering a fake smile on your face before returning to your seat. "I wasn't sure if you'd decided on consultancy or stock so I brought documents for both and information on them both and our rates. My assistant can always go over the intricacies of returns but that is primarily up to you. Have you decided what you'll be enquiring about today?" You asked and Tommy said nothing for a few moments, staring down at the table.

"You know why I asked you here?" Thomas asked.

"The meeting, we said we might arrange when we were in that bar?" You furrowed your brows. "We have some wonderful annual deals for our stakeholders wanting to expand into the business itself if youll-"

"Fuck. Not the fucking meeting," Thomas said at a low volume.

"Then what, sir?" You asked and Tommy looked at you.

"Fuck," he said under his breath.

"Let's not pretend we're under any kind of facade that what happened between us means anything to you." You took a drag of your cigarette and stared at Tommy as he sighed.

"And that's a fact?" He asked.

"You're like every other man who's momentarily interested in me. Keep me a secret, not tell your wife about how you fuck men." You shook your head, "So yes. It is a fact." Thomas was silent and took a few moments before replying.

"I have no wife." Was all he said and you could have laughed.

"Thomas, this is ridiculous. Whether you have one or not I doubt you're the type of man who would risk anything relating to your social standing by having anything to do with me." You sighed and Tommy looked perplexed.

"You mean the social pariah nature of it all? A man of your age with no wife? You believe that troubles me?" He asked in disbelief.

"I believe what I know, all that is said about me is in whispers. But within our class standing non-conformity isn't taken too kindly and most of the time I have more business partners and shareholders than any real companionship." Without meaning to you sounded incredibly bitter and spoiled.

"We're both social pariahs. I'm the dick-sucking g**sy and you're the dick-sucking son of a business giant. I don't think we're all that different if you're going to reduce it to those details." Tommy pondered and regretfully you had to agree.

"Why have you asked me here?" You asked after a few moments.

"I can't be entirely sure, was it for business, to see your pretty face or just to imagine a possibility where I could speak freely of what I want. Either way I wanted to see you, we can have an arrangement beneficial to all that are involved. I do want to be involved in the arms business but, I also want to fuck the living daylights out of you." Tommy downed the rest of his whisky as your eyes grew wide, you never thought he'd be that upfront. You didn't know how to react, you didn't even know whether to say anything at this point.

Tommy walked around his desk, standing closer to you with a cautious look on his face. You stood up, nearly nose to nose with him. He ran his finger over your hand, up and down, over and over until his hand moved up your arm and to your chest. Then he leant forward and began kissing your chest, your heartbeat quickened and you clenched your fists- unable to resist how your body reacted to him.

"Oh, fuck it," you muttered before crashing your lips into his.

Pushing him against the desk you gripped onto his hair and lightly pulled it, eliciting a pleased moan from Tommy. You ran your other hand down to his bulge, giving him just enough attention to keep him excited.

"My Shelby?" You both heard from through the door. Tommy pushed you away from him and walked around his desk to sit in his chair, you stood stunned. Even now, in his own business with his own employees he was terrified. You supposed it should be expected and that you couldn't hold it against Thomas.

"Yes?" Tommy called loudly, Lizzie entered and gave him a note before leaving.

"So I assume we're going into business together?" You looked at him in a meaningful way and he scoffed.

"I'd be surprised if we didn't." Tommy said quietly.

"I can be in town for as long as you want me to be," you said slowly approaching the desk, laying your hands on it and leaning towards Tommy.

"Hmm, all the control in my hands?" He asked, standing up and leaning towards you.

"I'd be surprised if that wasn't how you like it." Your voice was low and sultry, this attempt at flirting seemed to be working… at least for the moment.

"I'd be surprised if you didn't take it right back," Tommy leant forward to kiss you and you stepped back. "Bastard." Tommy said with a grin.

"I'll see you soon, Thomas. Ring me at my hotel if you want a meeting." You picked up your coat and headed for the door but as you walked closer you could hear Tommy rise from his chair and walk towards you.

You stopped, gripping onto your coat with your breath quickening and lips drying out. His presence was so imposing behind you, as if he could do anything he wanted to play with you and it would all be acceptable. You were no match for the atmosphere Tommy created. Tommy's lips began tenderly pressing against your neck as his hand gently caressed your growing bulge. It felt ecstatic to be at his mercy, you lent your neck backwards and closed your eyes, feeling that you would collapse into his arms if he teased you anymore. After relentless over-the-clothes teasing, Tommy finally unbuttoned your trousers and you dropped your coat. But to your surprise, Tommy took hold of your neck and guided you to walk over to the side of the room in front of a mirror. He continued to kiss your neck and touch you but you could see the animalistic look in his eyes, the never-satisfied hunger of a queer man you felt deep within yourself. Tommy gently choked you with one hand whilst kissing your neck and touching your dick, everytime your eyes closed he would choke tighter and make you look at yourself and him in the mirror.

The whole experience felt foreign and not necessarily comfortable but exciting all the same. What kind of sexual entanglement had you roped yourself into? Tommy's need for you to look into his eyes as he touched you bordered on the narcissistic, but it was just so sexy how he looked. So domineering, so in control of your every move even when your knees nearly gave out he held you up. When you moaned too loudly he choked you even tighter until you came onto his hand and began breathing heavily.

Your knees well and truly gave out, Tommy held your weight against him and nearly carried you over to a leather sofa near the two of you. He lay down first and you lay on top of him, gently twitching every now and then whilst gripping onto his waistcoat. No words were spoken between the two of you but it wasn't without meaning, Tommy stroked and kissed your hair, he caressed your back and held you until you stopped twitching. The tenderness and care from him was not just a formality of sex or arousal, Thomas didn't know what it was but it was… confusing.

Tommy knew that an emotional entanglement would not be good, how could any of it end beneficially for the both of you? But his body would betray his mind, he was so intrinsically drawn to you from the moment he saw you staring at him in London. It didn't hurt that you were extremely pretty but it wasn't just that. The confusion of his emotion and sexual motivation were slowly intertwining and it was dangerous for him.

"Are you okay?" Tommy asked in a whisper and you nodded, gripping his bicep and holding him closely.

"When would you like me to go?" You asked, looking up at him and he smiled.

"Only for a few hours whilst I have meetings, you can come up to the house and stay." Tommy offered and you looked surprised, no sexual partner had ever offered for you to stay at their home- let alone a possible business partner.

"Maybe I'll make an appearance," you joked as you slowly sat up, Tommy propped himself up on his elbows.

"Come here," he gestured for you to come closer to him until you were nose to nose, both of your lips aching to kiss one another again. "You look so beautiful when you cum," he whispered and you rolled your eyes.

"And you're a tease." You told him with a smirk as you kissed him on the cheek and stood up.

After you'd got dressed again and made your hair look more presentable, Tommy stood up and helped you put your coat on. When you turned around to face him he pulled you into a deep kiss, running his hands over your chest and up to your neck. The need for closeness was unimaginably important to Tommy. After this encounter, Tommy could only feel that you were a necessity for him.

next part Peaky Blinders tag list: @queenofkings1212 @severewobblerlightdragon @cl5369 @fairypitou @stressedandbandobessed7771 @shadow-of-wonder @hipsternoionlylikeunicorns @curled-hair-red-lips @lucystivinsky1315

[mrs-murder-daddy]

A/N: It's finally here, and it's only part one! I'm so sorry everyone but I've been fucking miserable for the last few months. But I'm here, I promise!

Requests are also open for BoB and MotA!

The Heart of the Ocean (Part One)

Gale "Buck" Cleven x Reader

The stateroom is much smaller than you anticipated, though perhaps your expectations were too high. After all, this is just a boat with a lot of people on it.

It feels suffocating, though perhaps that’s a consequence of your circumstances more than your room. 

You stare at yourself in the vanity’s mirror. You look tired, but maybe you should cut yourself some slack. You’re getting married in a few weeks. Every bride looks this sallow before their wedding day.

There’s a knock on the door, gentle and polite. You haven’t even responded when it opens. Caledon Hockley, your fiance, walks in. If you had never spoken to the man, you’d say that smile on his face is genuine.

He brandishes a velvet jewellery box and presents it to you with all the showmanship of a salesman. You’re not sure why. You’re marrying the bastard, not buying a house from him.

Cal crowds up behind you, opening the box, expecting you to ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ over it. He gives you some long speech about how the diamond used to belong to some long dead king. All you can do is stare. It’s so… big. It’s gaudy and awful. At least it matches your engagement ring.

He clasps the necklace, the chain feeling rather literal. He kisses your temple and grins at his most prized possession. You paste on a smile and thank him for his kindness. As he leaves, reminding you of the lunch you were already supposed to be at, you wrap a hand around the massive blue diamond. It’ll at least weigh me down, you joke.

Despite your mother’s hatred of her, Mrs Margaret “my-friends-call-me-Molly” Brown is the only person you can talk to that actually listens. You walk into the dining room for lunch, hands gently wrapped around one of Cal’s arms and the first thing you hear is, “that necklace is gorgeous darling!”

Your mother fawns over it and you almost tell her to just take it if she wants it so bad. 

Molly says, “Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.”

Her beaming smile is not enough to distract you from your mother’s eye roll, but it is enough for you to respond with a genuine thanks. You can’t remember the last time you got a compliment.

Stuck at a table between a rock (Cal) and a hard place (your mother), you wait anxiously to eat. You would listen to the conversations around you, but it’s mostly your mother bragging about the family you’re marrying into, and the men discussing which type of cigar they’ll smoke next or other trivial nonsense.

When the waiter approaches, you perk up. but Cal takes over. “We'll both have the lamb, medium-rare with very little mint sauce.” He turns to you and pats your hand, “You like lamb, don't you sweet-pea?”

You stare at him silently, god his face was just so punchable. A pinch on your thigh reminds you that there’s an audience. “Of course, darling.”

Molly jumps in, noticing the distinct pinch of your mouth. “You gonna cut her meat for her, too, Cal?” The table bursts into laughter and even your fiance forces a tight smile.

The food is not quite to your taste, the bitterness of Cal’s mistreatment tainting your meal. But the conversation takes a turn for the better.

Molly posits, “So, how do ya reckon they got to the name Titanic?”

An older fellow married to a woman 3 years your junior speaks up, “Well the name obviously conveys size, thus it also conveys strength.”

You jump in, “Perhaps Dr Freud’s ideas about the male preoccupation with size will interest you, Mr Higginbotham.”

Your mother pinches your thigh again and you jolt. The conversation changes once more and even Molly’s boisterous laughter can’t calm your temper. You excuse yourself and race outside for some fresh air.

The ocean breeze cools you down somewhat. You bask in the sun’s rays, gripping the rail in front of you and leaning back just a little.

Your reverie is interrupted by a loud shout of “Miss!”

You look down to see two brunets wrestling playfully. Their blonde friend shakes his head before looking up at you. Your knees turn to butter. He’s quite possibly the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. 

The two of you stare at each other for so long, his friends have stopped wrestling, instead looking between you two like a tennis match. The Greek statue below only stops the staring contest when a frown takes over.

Your own face falls when you realise why: Cal. Your fiance grips your arm and begins to berate you quietly while dragging you back inside.

But the beautiful blonde man is all you see. His smile as his friends begin to tease is enough to feed you for a lifetime.

Dinner is much the same, only your noose feels tighter than before. Your newfound wealth is still the only topic of conversation your mother cares about and your fiance is content to make every little decision for you.

Of all your companions, at least Molly Brown tries to reach out with some gentle questions about the wedding. Cal fields all of them, he and your mother having planned everything to the very flowers of your bouquet.

Your ears begin to ring. Your mother over one shoulder, your fiance over the other. A hand touches yours lightly. It’s gloved but still warm. Molly’s Southern accent cuts through the rest of the conversation.

“You okay darling?”

You nod and beam brightly. “Of course, just excited for the wedding.”

It’s clearly not enough for her. Then an icy glare from the people either side of you reminds her of your precarious position.

“Well who wouldn’t be? It all sounds so beautiful!”

You power through dinner, Cal ordered the beef for you both, though you would rather have eaten dirt.

He kisses your gloved hand as the men retire to the smoking room. Molly rubs your shoulder gently as she bids you goodbye. 

Your mother hisses at you for acting up. You simply smile apologetically and ask to get some fresh air. She waves you off with an angry “I’ll see you later.”

Thankfully, no one else is on deck as you sprint across the wood. Your chest is heaving with panicked breaths and barely concealed sobs. The theatrics catch the attention of a man laying on a bench staring up at the stars.

You crash into the rail at the stern of the ship and hastily climb over. Your breath gets stuck in your throat as the wind brushes past your face, cooling the tears on your cheeks.

The skin over your knuckles stretches as you cling to the only tether you have left. The water looks cold but so inviting.

Then a voice. It’s quiet and gentle, but it nearly startles you into letting go. 

“Easy, easy, didn’t mean to scare you.” He approaches, palms up in surrender.

“Go away.” You’re beyond embarrassed to have someone witness your breakdown. Your consideration of the unthinkable.

“Well that I’m not gonna do.” He creeps closer like you’re a wounded animal. It’s perhaps a cliche, but you imagine that’s what you are. Hunted for your beauty and trapped in the snare of a loveless marriage.

“You should leave. If you know what’s good for you.” You wish your voice sounds stronger. The creaking of your throat doesn’t make you sound very intimidating.

He just sighs and sits down on the deck. He begins to… remove his shoes? You frown and look over your shoulder as much as you can.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’re going down there,” he nods to the water below you, “I’m coming after you. And these are a new pair. Can’t get ‘em all soggy.”

You begin to laugh, a little hysterically. “That water’s freezing. There’s no way you’ll jump after me.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about.” He stands up and begins to remove his jacket. Your face grows serious once more. His shoulders are broad, he must be a steel worker or something. But his face is too pretty for that kind of work. “You know a fall from this height into water, it’s like hitting pavement. Then you add the freezing water and-“ he hissed through his teeth.

You take another look, it is a very long way down. How did you not notice that before? A few moments of contemplative silence pass and the broad shouldered man moves closer.

You look over your shoulder at him. “You ever feel alone? Like truly alone in the world.”

He frowns sympathetically, “Can’t say I have, ma’am.”

You smile sadly. “That’s good.” Your hands begin to loosen their grip. 

His voice now sounds like it’s right next to you, but you can’t bring yourself to look. “Maybe you should come back over this rail and tell me all about it. Maybe I can help you.”

A sad little smile appears on your face. “I wish you could.” 

Then warmth wraps around your wrist. The man’s hands are calloused but much softer than you expected. 

“You never know if you don’t try.” He’s practically begging, anxiously waiting for your response.

You turn your head to look at him, tears threatening to choke you. You realise just who this man is. “Okay.”

He wraps a gentle but firm arm around your waist and helps you pull yourself back over the rail. When you finally set your heeled feet on the deck, your body feels like it’s going to collapse. The man leads you to a bench and wraps his jacket tight around you.

“I’m Gale by the way, Gale Cleven.”

You introduce yourself, still feeling rather defeated.

“Now tell me about what happened just now.” The words imply an interrogation, but looking into those baby blues you see… concern. What is with the people on this boat?

You’ll know them for only about a week and yet they’re the only ones in your life who seem to actually care for you.

“I know what you must be thinking.” You sigh, “Poor little rich girl. What does she know about misery?”

Gale leans his head forward to make eye contact, “Not at all. What I’m thinking is what could have happened to this girl to make her think she has no way out?”

You flash the giant ring on your finger, “I’m getting married next month.”

He jokes, “Wow! You would have gone straight to the bottom.” 

But you can’t laugh, you just stare at it. “All of Boston society will be there. 500 invitations.”

You finally look at his face, counting his freckles subconsciously, “Sometimes I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs and no one even looks up.”

He frowns and you’re hit with a sudden wave of shame. “Thank you for your help, Gale.” You take his jacket off hastily and drop it in his lap.

“Wait-” He tries to process the abrupt end to your conversation but you’re already halfway down the deck, surreptitiously wiping away tears.

The next morning, you beg your mother to let you have some space and fresh air. Really, you want to find the handsome blond from the night before. To apologise and to assure him that you will be just fine.

It’s not difficult to spot his incredibly handsome profile. He’s hunched over a sketchbook, head bobbing as he looks to his reference then back down. Trying to follow his eyeline, you see a sweet looking older man dancing with his little daughter. She stands on his feet as they sway to nothing in particular.

You approach carefully, worried you’d break the warm quiet, or disturb the family’s moment. You decide to just sit next to Gale. He tilts his head in acknowledgment but continues his work.

“I wanted to apologise for my behaviour last night,” you begin, “it was inappropriate for a woman of my station.”

He gives a little half-smile and looks up at you. His stare is like looking into the sun. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel. And I felt honoured you trusted me enough to share your pain.”

Your face warms, you’re not sure if it’s shame or those baby blues trained on yours. The girl and her dad are still dancing, but he’s picked her up. Her curls swish around as he twirls them and her giggles almost bring a tear to your eye. You can’t remember the last time your parents showed you any affection, let alone danced with you just to make you laugh. 

Gale clears his throat and holds his sketchbook out. His work is incredible. Not only is his technical work beautiful but he’s captured the loving glint in the father’s eyes and the little girl’s missing tooth. You can’t help your beaming smile.

“This is incredible work! You should be proud. Is this what you plan to do back in the States?” You brush a gentle finger over the drawing’s finer details.

He blushes and shakes his head, “I’m going back to my tiny hometown to see my family. Where I go from there, I don’t know.”

“You have a real talent here, Gale! You should explore this.” You hand the drawing back to him.

His plush lips part like he wants to respond, but you’re interrupted. The sweet little girl taps your shoulder, her tiny hand covered in freckles. She introduces herself as Niamh, and asks if you’re some kind of fairy. You frown, confused, but hear Gale chuckle behind you.

“She absolutely is, Miss Niamh.” When you turn your head to look at him, he winks. You look back at Niamh and smile.

“He’s right, I am a fairy! And I have a gift for you, little one.” You pull out one of the many pins in your hair, a bejewelled butterfly on the end. You hold it out to her; she seems hesitant to take it.

Niamh looks back at her dad who nods in her direction. She takes the pin and gives it a little kiss, “I promise, I’ll take care of it.” She runs back to her dad, giggling.

“I gotta go soon,” Gale’s voice draws you back to your previous conversation. “It’s almost lunchtime, but I wanted to ask.” He closes his sketchbook and faces you head on. “You ever been to a party?”

You had assumed when Gale asked you about a party there would be drinking and music, but nothing to this level.

The small parlour is packed to the brim with warm bodies and free-flowing drinks. Gale is up on a makeshift stage dancing with a cat in one arm and Niamh on the other. You remember his two brunet friends from yesterday and search for their faces, hopefully one of them will remember you.

One is preparing to arm wrestle a big bald man while the other claps him on the shoulder for support. A pregnant woman stands behind them, arms folded and a big grin on her face. You make your way through everyone, feeling very overdressed. By the time you reach them, the arm wrestling match is done and everyone cheers for “Curt”. By the big smile on his face, you assume Curt is one of Gale’s friends.

You can’t quite find a way to interject yourself into the celebrations so you find yourself leaning against the wall awkwardly. Gale finally notices you and tries to wave, only he has no hands free. So he quickly gestures to his friends.

“Hey!” The taller brunet shouts, holding his arms out for a hug. You shake your head, not quite there in your acquaintanceship with him. Instead the pregnant woman wraps her arms around him instead. “You’re the dame who Buck can’t stop talking about.”

“Buck?” You look over his shoulder at Gale whose attention is divided between you and Niamh. “Oh Gale!” Your face heats up, “I hope he’s been kind.”

Curt butts in, “Darling you’ve got nothing to worry about, the man is already picking out a ring for ya.”

The tall brunet holds his hand out to shake yours, introducing himself as John, “But my friends call me Bucky.” He also introduces the woman under his arm as Angel. She gives you her real name but says she prefers the nickname.

Curt gives you an official introduction, and Gale peels himself away from Niamh and the cat long enough to come join you all.

“I’m glad to see you here, sweetheart.” Gale smiles and wraps an arm around your shoulder. You lose yourself in his eyes again.

“Glad to be here.” Your voice is breathy, but for once you’re saying what you truly mean.

The night is long and restless, you drink and you dance and you laugh and you dream. This is the life you’d sorely missed, friends, fun, and blossoming love.

The night winds down, Curt has passed out on a bench near the makeshift stage. There’s only one fiddle player left, the rest of his musician family gone to bed. Niamh is asleep in her dad’s arms while her mother dances around them.

Bucky and Angel dance together, looking more in love than anyone you’ve ever seen. He whispers sweet nothings in a low tone just to see her blush. Gale clears his throat next to you and you snap your eyes towards him. He holds his large hand out, inviting you to dance. As you join him, slow dancing next to your new friends, you wonder. Maybe you can learn to love Gale like Angel loves her Bucky.

It’s late when you return to your room. A familiar face greets you. Cal sits on his reading chair with a whiskey in one hand and your massive blue diamond necklace in the other.

“Where were you?” He doesn’t look at you, only the necklace.

“Out.”

“And what, precisely, does that mean?”

“I… was with friends.” 

“Is that why you smell like a brewery?”

You roll your eyes, but choose just the wrong time to do as his eyes shift to you.

His voice is dark and angry, and your palms begin to sweat. “You are my fiance, and you are to be my wife. You will wear this gift at all times and you will not leave my side without my express permission. In fact, I’ve come to an agreement with your mother.” He stands, looming over you. “You will stay in this room and share this bed with me.”

Your eyes widen, “That would be inappropriate, we’re unmarried.”

“You are still mine.” He clasps the necklace around your throat once more.

[girlgroupshots]

The Producer - PART TWO

pairing: arin x male reader/oc rating: M for Mature word count: 2685 summary: You learn more about your potential job while also having a run in with someone in need. 

As you stood before your uncle's building you couldn't help but feel a sense of deja vu.

Just yesterday you had been standing in this very position but with much less information than you currently held. Ironically, you felt more confused now then when you knew nothing. The day you had spent with your Uncle did nothing to help you make a decision. If anything it only confirmed that he was a terrific salesman. And then there was the night you had spent with Jessica. You assumed it meant nothing but that was one hell of a way to get to know each other. The end result of all of this was that you had gotten little to no sleep after you made it back to your motel room. You briefly contemplated merely catching the train back home but fortunately, or unfortunately, your conscious wouldn't let you do it.

So here you were, running on fumes but punctiual nonetheless.

On cue you saw Jessica walking up to the doors from inside. She seemed just as you had saw her yesterday, well, early yesterday. The Jessica you witnessed in the afterhours was an entirely different beast.

"I almost didn't think you'd be on time" she greeted with a teasing smile.

"What can I say, you left a good impression. Besides something tells me you are a fan of punctuality."

"It doesn't hurt."

At first you had thought that Uncle Min and Jessica merely had a good repitoire but you were quickly realising that she could make conversation with anyone. A good talent to have if one was in the people management business. She walked into the building and you followed closely on her heels. Clearly she had a plan set for what was going to happen today and you were merely along for the ride.

"The girls should be on their way," Jessica spoke over her shoulder as we made our way towards the elevator, "We have a pretty wide range from our oldest trainee to the youngest but for the most part they're relatively close."

You merely gave a nod, absorbing the information that she was giving me.

"Before they get here I want to give you a brief rundown. Just enough so you know a little bit about them; I wouldn't want to scare you off before you even accept the job."

You laughed lightly at her words as we entered the elevator, "Don't worry, I'm too impressed to be scared so far. Honestly though, it seems like you're on top of everything, I'm still not sure if I'm even needed."

Jessica looked over at me for a moment as if trying to judge whether I was being sarcastic or not before letting out a small scoff, "Well, I appreciate you saying that. However, like I told you last night there’s a difference between the two positions. We've been at it for four years now and still haven't fully lifted off the ground. I think a new perspective could be just what we need."

She was simply being honest but I couldn't help thinking it was another reminder of the potential pressure you’d be under and how bad it would be if you failed to be the new ingridient that the company needed.

The elevator doors opened with a ding and you followed Jessica the short distance to her office, noting that it was across from where your Uncle had said yours would was. Or rather, where yours would be if you started working there. You took a seat, noting the small pile of folders she had on her desk.

"So how many trainees do you guys have exactly?" you questioned as she sat across from you.

"Fifteen."

"Fifteen?!" you tried to leave the incredulous tone out of your voice, "And the plan is to debut all of them?"

"Well, technically that would be up to you. That’s another reason why we need your perspective. If it were up to me I’d debut all of them in some form or another. When you're in a small company like ours everyone grows pretty close and attached. Especially when you've been through the trenches together."

You could sense the sentinmentality in her words. You were finally beginning to understand why she didn’t want to be in that position. They needed someone with a more objective look at things to make any changes that were needed. Even if that including cutting some of the trainees. That said, the thought of being the guy who comes in and starts cutting loose ends didn't make you feel great either. You decided to move forward rather than dwell on that thought.

"Of course, that's only natural. So you wanted to brief me on them right?"

"Just briefly,," Jessica nodded, seemingly eager to change the subject as well, "I'll start with the youngest."

"Noona!"

Before Jessica could begin, a voice rang out in the hallway. You looked over your shoulder then back to Jessica who simply let out a tired sigh.

"Noona, are you up here – " the owner of the voice stopped short when he entered the doorway and saw the two of you sitting there. It was hard to miss how his demeanor switched from carefree to embarrassed. "Er, uh, Ms. Jung."

“What is it Jinyoung?”

“When the other girls start arriving should I send them to practice room?”

"Yes, please. Thank you, Jinyoung" Jessica forced a smile on her lips, "By the way, this is potentially your future boss. He might be working with us in the near future."

The man's gaze looked back to you before promptly bowing in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir. I look forward to working with you in the future."

Honestly, it was hard to bite back an amused expression. The whole situation was unfamiliar. You were used to being the one politely bowing to the higher ups in the company. Now here you were in the reverse situation and the man couldn't be that much younger than yourself Still, it'd be rude to simply laugh so you managed to nod my head in response.

"Likewise."

“If that’s all, I have to go over some things with our guest, Jinyoung."

“Right. Of course.” The man gave a curt nod before scurring on his way.

When you turned back to Jessica you could tell she was already reading what was going through your mind.

"Don't give me that look. He's a member of the staff and he's a good kid."

"Oh, I'm sure he is...Noona."

"Don't you start."

You were unable to hold back the amusement this time and despite her annoyed words you could see the hint of a smile on Jessica's lips. For all the teasing you could do though, you didn't doubt her words. After all, she did say they had a family-like vibe in the company. But that didn't mean you were going to let her live it down anytime soon.

“Alright, let’s get started,” Jessica said, pivoting the conversation.

At those words your amusement faded, feeling a sudden sense of anxiety in your gut. One might go as far as to call it nausea. It was all suddenly becoming very real. This wasn’t drinks at the bar or your Uncle casually telling you his grand designs. This was holding the future of strangers you had never met in your hands. One thought ran through your mind: Oh fuck.

Suddenly feeling nauses you needed to get out of there. "Before we begin I need to use the bathroom."

"Alright,” there was only a slight hint of annoyance in her voice, “it's right down the hall."

You quickly learned that you and Jessica had vastly different ideas of what right down the hall meant. Especially as right around the corner soon turned into you wandering the building. At least your nauseous feeling had subsided somewhat if nothing else. When you spotted a young woman you quickly approached her in hopes of gettimg some kind of direction.

"Hi, do you work here?"

Stupid question. This wasn't the grocery store. If she was in the building then she must work there. From looking at her she clearly looked like she could be another one of Jessica's interns. What you failed to miss among the startled expression was the flush that crept up her neck and colored her cheeks, or the way her thighs fidgeted together anxiously.

"O-oh, um, y-yes. Yes…" she fumbled out.

You assumed it was just a reaction suddenly having a stranger appear in front of her. "Great, can you show me where the bathroom is?"

"It's right down the hall," she pointed.

"Believe it or not that's thw second time I've been told that," you rubbed the back of your head. "Do you mind taking me there?"

The girl was silent for a moment, biting her bottom lip as she looked away from you. You raised your eyebrow in curiosity, wondering what was going on.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" she blurted out. "It's this way!"

The dark-haired girl abruptly turned on her heels and began to lead you to your destination. You silently followed, your mind drifting to everything Jessica had told you thus far. Soon you'd learn about the girls and then you'd have to make a definitive choice on whether you wanted to take on this project or not. Jessica clearly seemed to think she was capable onconvincing you. But you told yourself it'd take more than good sex to change your mind.

"Here we are," the girl's voice broke your thoughts.

"Thanks."

You intended to walk past her and then likely never see the girl again only to have her suddenly grab your shirt. Her breathing was heavy as she clutched at the fabric. For the first time you noticed the red flush to her cheeks. Did she have a fever?! Was she going to pass out? How was this happening on your first day already? You gripped her elbow to help her keep her balance, concern etched across her features.

“Hey, are you okay?” you asked

She looked up at her, wavy hair framing her pristine features. When she opened her mouth the sound you heard was not the response you were expecting. The sound she made was a moan. It was high-pitched and needy and undeniably a moan of pleasure. You looked bewildered for a moment, briefly wondering just what the hell was happening as the girl pressed her body close to yours. It was only then you noticed her nipples poking against the cotton fabric of her shirt.

“Can you touch me?”

“What?!”

In response, the dark-haired beauty let go of your shirt to grip one of your hands and moved it to her breast. You were able to palm it easily, feeling the stiffened nub beneath your hand. At the contact she let out another moan. For as confused as you were to have this girl begging for your touch and writhing against you, you couldn’t deny the natural reaction your body was having. Your cock was beginning to stir beneath your slacks and becoming painfully obvious. Especially when you were this close.

“I just need…” she trailed off, pressing her body against yours.

She found purchase on your knee, rubbing herself against it as if she was riding your cock. If it weren’t for your utter confusion at what was happening you might have pinned her against the wall and had your way with her. As it stood you didn’t even know her name. Settling for being her tool for getting off was going to have to be enough for now. Still, that didn’t mean you had to be a passive participant. You angled you thigh better, fitting it between her thighs and pressing more fully against her crotch.

“Are you getting off on this? Rubbing yourself up against a stranger at work?” you taunted her.

“Nngh ~ ” She swallowed another moan, panting heavily as she pressed herself harder against you.

“I bet that friction feels good doesn’t it? Did you soak through your panties already?”

“Mmm ~ “

She buried her face into your chest, a muffled approval confirming from her in response as she nodded her head. Despite her seeming embarrassment, her actions were no less desperate. She gripped your shirt tighter, leveraging herself against you as she continued to hump your thigh, a certain desperation in her movements. You weren’t exactly sure what had come over her. Hell, you didn’t know what had come over you! But the angelic whimper that fell from her lips was enough to not make you question it any further for now.

“Are you going to cum?” you teased, pinching her perky nipples. “Are you going to cum for me?”

“Mmphf!!”

When her orgasm finally hit, it was a silent orgasm. She bit her bottom lip, stuffing her face into your chest as her body shook. Somehow she made an inherently sexual act seem precious. When it was over you retracted your hand from her breast, holding her elbow until she wasable to stand straight. The snap back to reality was almost instant. Her face flushed a crimson red as she stepped back.

“I– I’m so sorry,” she blurted out.

Before you could even ask her name she was quickly gone from sight. Leaving you with a rather uncomfortable erection.

“...What the hell just happened?”

By the time you made it back to Jessica she had a tired expression on her face.

“Did you get lost?”

“You could say that.”

She gave you a curious look but didn’t say press the issue further. “Well, sit down. You took so long we have to go through this quickly. I’ll start with the youngest.“

Jessica began giving you a brief summary of each trainee from their name to their core strengths. It was informative and and for the first time in two days it felt like this was an actual job. She had clearly put in a lot of work but you’d get a better feel for the girls once you met them in person. After all, they all sounded great on paper but anyone could make a resume sound good on paper.

“Wait,” you suddenly snapped out of your thoughts. “Who is that?”

Jessica looked at the current file. “Yewon?”

“Yewon…She’s a trainee here?”

“Yes? She joined us shortly after we started auditions so she’s been with us a few years now.”

The lump in your throat grew larger as you stared at the picture on file. There was no denying it: that was the same face of the girl who had been riding your thigh some thirty minutes ago.

“Oh…”

Meanwhile…

Yewon stumbled into the practice room, closing the door behind her. She was panting and out of breath, her cheeks flushed with color. Partially because she was out of breath from practically sprinting away from the stranger and partially because of the toy that was still going off inside of her. Immediately she was accosted by one of her fellow trainees. Specifically a blonde named Yunjin.

“Oh my god!” Yunjin exclaimed, a smile of disbelief on her features. “Unnie, you actually did it.”

“Turn it off already!” she whined in response.

Ignorant to her fellow trainee’s despair, Yunjin pressed on, “Did you have an orgasm?”

“Yunjin, please!”

“Alright, alright!”

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this...” 

The blonde quickly reached into the pocket of her sweatpants, pulling out her phone to open the app that was currently causing the older girl torture. Meanwhile, a dark-haired, well-endowed trainee was getting everyone elses attention at the far end of the practice room.

“Everyone! If you missed the announcement, we are meeting the new CEO today,” Eunbi said to the girls gathered before her. “Let’s leave a good impression, alright?”

“I heard Jinyoung say he hasn’t accepted the offer yet,” another girl chimed in. When she looked up and realized she was getting a death stare from Eunbi she shrugged defensively. “What? I’m just saying what I heard.”

“Thank you, Jiwon, but either way we should do our best. Let’s make sure nothing goes wrong.”

After all, what could possibly go wrong.

authors note: part two done! part three is the last part of the ‘prologue’ of sorts and then it will start to be more episodic chapter updates. i finished this chapter a while ago so i thought i’d finally release it. i’m currently taking a break from writing but i hope you’re all doing well! i also might be moving things to a new blog as this is a side-blog which limits my ability to follow and such but tbd.

[scoutswritingcorner]

Red String of What?

Angel Dust X Male Reader

Part One

TW: Alastor being Alastor, threats.

A/N: I love the red string of fate trope.

You find a red string attached to your finger a few weeks before going to live at the Hazbin Hotel. It's quite annoying to say the least but you are a curious man so you go out and follow it.

Walking down the busy sidewalk, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander. Was taking this new job at this ‘Hazbin Hotel’ really worth it? You never really thought of redeeming yourself but the free housing sounded nice. All you really had to do was fix things when they needed to be fixed or put in new things that needed to be replaced, in all honesty this was what you’ve been hoping for; something to keep your mind busy as you try to ignore the burning sensation on your finger. The same finger that had a bright red string attached to it. Truthfully it seemed ironic in the long run..you couldn’t see a lick of color but here you were staring at the bright red string on your finger.

Knocking on the doors of the Hotel you patiently waited for an answer. You didn’t know if you could walk in…that would probably be better than knocking like some door to door salesman. Your hand reaches out about to grab the handle before the doors open to reveal the Princess of Hell herself, the one you ran into a week back. Immediately you watched as her frown literally turned upside down into this huge grin, “You’re here! Did you think about it?” She asked, excitedly bouncing on her feet as she giggled. You wordlessly nodded about to explain yourself but was cutoff as the excited Princess squealed and pulled you inside the Hotel. Almost tripping over your own feet as you are pulled around, despite not being able to see in color it was very obvious half of the building’s colors clashed with one another, you are so glad you don't have to deal with interior design. 

The Princess, Charlie as she asked you to call her, guided you around the hotel giving you a “grand tour” as she called it, from showing you everything on the bottom floor to the top floor. Despite being used to walking up stairs; especially to get to your old apartment, you were quite winded from just walking up a couple flights of stairs. You really needed to get out more..or maybe you could fix up that old elevator that had an 'OUT OF SERVICE' sign attached to the front of the doors, a smirk pulled onto your lips. A big project to help rebuild, something to get your mind off of that stupid red string that seemed to pull and burn every few moments.

“What about that elevator? If I can get it running it could help a lot of sinners who come here.” Your voice called out to her, making Charlie stop dead in her tracks. Turning back to you her smile grew into a grin as she walked over. “You’re right! I just seem to forget about it all the time..it hasn’t worked since I took over the hotel. I truly don’t know what went wrong..I can see if Vaggie or Alastor is willing to lend a hand.” She replied eagerly but you waved her off and smiled. The first real smile you gave in a while, it’s like you couldn’t be mean to her. You would’ve cried if you were mean to such a sweet woman willing to do everything in her power to help you, even if you didn’t believe in redemption. Oh, she was going to be the second death of you.

“No no, I just need to see the floor plans if you still have them by chance and then I need to find where the elevator is exactly.” You chuckled out, rubbing your hands together anxiously as the string got brighter and hotter. Why was it so fucking hot? It felt like it was going to burn your finger off. “Are you okay?” Her voice broke you out of your own mind, concern written all over her face as she reached over to grab your arm but stopped. “Y-Yeah..My finger is just hurting is all…I slammed it into a door earlier.” You lied- you were a horrible fucking liar; you smiled too damn wide and your eyes looked everywhere but where you needed to look. “..Are you sure?” She asked as she moved closer to you.

You sighed, “No…I..” You looked around for a moment before turning back to her. “The string on my finger is bothering me. It has been all week, ever since it showed up it seemingly was almost nonexistent and now? It’s hurting..It’s annoying at best but it gets brighter and tugs more often.” You explained not noticing how Charlie’s face lit up, “And the fact that I’m basically colorblind and can only see this fucking red string attached to my finger is an annoyance of it’s own.” You sighed, “But I’m not here to voice concerns about my own misfortunes, I’m here to help you out. Get this Hotel up and running!” You said clapping your hands together which ultimately made you flinch from how pain erupted from that finger.

Charlie frowned seeing you push away your own discomfort before nodding, “Right! Let me show you where the maintenance room is and then I’ll bring you to your room.” You nodded your head ignoring how you stared back at the moving shadow behind her. Oh no..not him. Please let it just be your fucking imagination and not him. “Is this our newest guest?~” His voice rang out causing you to groan and turn to him.

 “Oh Alastor! Just the man I was looking for.” Charlie hummed, walking over to him “This is our new guest and maintenance man!~” She happily exclaimed. Alastor stared you down for an uncomfortably long minute before he chuckled, “Well it’s lovely to have a fresh and recognizable face here!” He exclaimed, tapping his cane to the ground in a rhythm to a song you couldn’t hear.

“Oh you both know each other?” At the question you let out a low groan and took a step back away from the infamous Radio Demon. “Sadly” You replied cutting him off from another random long winded response causing him to snap his neck towards you. “Sadly? Dear boy, I thought we had a lovely time.” He growled out the radio effect he had making the hair on your arms to stand up, you were not fond of him and he surely was not fond of you. 

“Define ‘lovely time’ because I remember it as you stared at me in my shop as I fixed one of those radio’s you are so fond of, Sir.” You swore if he had your soul you would’ve been double dead by now. No one was able to even look at him wrong and get away with it, not even you. But the way Charlie stepped in between the both of you had deflected some of his unbridled rage. 

“Watch that tongue, Dear Boy. I might just cut it out next time.” He growled out his eyes twitching, “I’m just stating the truth, Sir. You stared at me the whole time, it was weird.” At that he laughed and threw his head back as he stood up taller. Was his horns growing? “Dear boy, you were handling one of my favorite things of course I had to watch you.” You rolled your eyes and let out a loud sigh, “You didn’t have to do anything- I was handling the radio carefully, I’m not as stupid as you think I am.” Charlie lightly chuckled as she pushed you away from a growling Alastor. “Good to know you both don’t get along.” She whispered as you nodded following her softly apologizing for your outburst.

After a little while of showing you where everything was, you finally rested in your own bedroom on the second floor. Something Charlie happily asked for your input just in case, you honestly weren’t expecting to have full freedom on where your bedroom was located and expected to be thrown in a much smaller room than what you got. You didn’t voice your complaints to her or her girlfriend, Vaggie, just in case you were actually going to be thrown in the boiler room. 

Looking around your new bedroom and then down at the string on your finger which was much brighter and was practically burning, you sighed and got up. You would have to call your boss and put in a few days off to make sure everything was moved into this place and out of your old apartment, maybe just maybe this could be a fresh start for you.

[contentloadingandstuff]

Lisa x Male!Reader Oneshot - Library Duty

CW: Male!Reader, not proofread. Just a silly and short fic.

“Tale of Winter, Tales of Winter, Tales of Winter…” You guide your finger along the bookshelf. “Oh! Here you are.”

You pull the dusty volume out, and give it a few rubs with the back of your hand. The cover is plain, only the three words written in golden font standing out from the washed-out green background. 

You turn away and walk towards the stairs back to the top floor of the library. You jog up the steps, and you see two familiar figures behind the receptionist’s desk. Lumine and Paimon are writing something on the machine Lisa, now seated in the background and sipping tea ordered a while ago. They seem to be too absorbed to notice you standing in front of them. They look up at you simultaneously, and Paimon clears her throat.

“Hello, sir! Are you here to borrow, or return?” Her voice is just as squeaky as always. 

“To borrow, specifically - to borrow this book.” You place the tome on the desk, looking over to Lisa. She sends you a wink.

Her mischievous smile is just begging you to do something amusing. Just as always. Hm, why not humor her a little?

“Do you have a library card here, sir?” Lumine asks.

“Hm? Oh, I don’t. But you got me interested… What are the benefits of having one?”

“You can borrow books for longer, and you have early access to new publications. Also, you automatically join Miss Lisa’s book club, and you can attend its gatherings on Saturdays at 7 PM.” The floating fairy almost sounds like a salesman. You smile. 

“Then I would like to make one, please.”

“Alright… May I have some identification?” Lumine looks up at you.

You pat your pockets for a moment, before sighing theatrically. 

“Sorry… I left it at home. Can I just tell you all you need to know from memory?”

“I suppose that can work, sir.” Lumine pulls out a fresh piece of paper, and hands it to Paimon. The creature pulls out a jet feather from the inkwell, and places it against the paper.

“Your name and surname, mister?”

“Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz.”

Both of them stop and look up at you in surprise.

“Brzęczyszczykiewicz.” You repeat, barely containing a laugh. “Grzegorz.”

Paimon’s mouth hangs slightly open, but she shakes her head and focuses again. 

“Hm. I see.”

She puts the quill on the paper, clearing her throat.

“Gsh… gshe… psh… pshe… be… bshe…” Her small face turns and twists, steam nearly coming out from her ears due to how fast her brain cogs are working.

“Brzęczyszczykiewicz.” Lisa is covering her mouth with her gloved hand, her body tense from how hard she tries to keep quiet.

“Agh! Traveler!” She throws the feather on the table and crumbles up the paper. “I, um, I mean. Traveler?” 

She turns to her companion.

“Can you write it on the typewriter, please? I’ll go and put those books back!” She motions to the bin of returns, and before Lumine can protest, the floating lavender melon is already gone.

Lumine sighs and rubs her forehead. She types a few words on the sheet before she shyly asks:

“Your name and surname, sir?”

“Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz.” You say it with pride and confidence.

“Grzh… How??”

“Grzegorz Brzęczyszczykiewicz.”

Lumine is sweating visibly. “Can you… Can you spell it out sir?”

“Sure thing. G-r-z-e-g-o-r-z B-r-z-ę-c-z-y-s-z-c-z-y-k-i-e-w-i-c-z.”

Muttering to herself, she punches in a very rough version of the word. When she finishes, a bright smile of satisfaction creeps up on her face. The girl looks up at you again.

“Where were you born, sir?”

“Chrząszczyżewoszyce, powiat Łękołody.”

Lumine’s arms fall limp, and her expression turns to one of defeat. She hides her face in her hands. All of a sudden, Lisa bursts into laughter. You join in with a chuckle, and Lumine looks up at you two in pure confusion.

Lisa gets up from her chair. She walks towards the desk, and bends over it. “Don’t worry cutie, we were just messing with you, right Y/N?”

“That’s right.” You lean closer to her, your noses just millimeters away from each other. “Y/N… I like how it sounds coming from your lips.”

Lisa smiles seductively, and moves her hand to gently lift up your chin. “Y/N. Y/N. Y/N. You like hearing that, don’t you, my dear?”’

“Mhm.” You look each other deep in the eyes.

Lumine, her face now beet-red, fakes a cough.

“Um… do you… still want that library card, sir?”

Thanks for reading!

[lovingrosewho]

Grudges

So here we go again: many many years ago (around 2017), I wrote this Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader! fanfiction, I never published it ‘cause I was always making corrections and re-reading it, I tried to publish it around 2019 I think, but then I lost that tumblr account… anyways. After all these years, I bring it to you again, with no new corrections, just myself from 2017 speaking/writing. Hope you like it!

MULTICHAPTER

CHAPTER ONE

Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader!

Rating: T

Word count: 4128

Summary: the BAU is investigating a series of murders in your hometown, and you’re right in the middle of it, but Dr. Spencer Reid takes a particular liking in you.

Warnings: usual tv series stuff (absent father, missing relative, murder and crime scene descriptions)

(set after season 8)

It was just another day at the BAU, Penelope had just called everyone into the conference room to explain the next case.

“Delaware. Three victims. First victim was killed two weeks ago, his name was Adrien Sanders, he was 57 years old, 5’7 feet tall; second victim was killed almost a week ago, Philip Moore, 56 years old, 5’9 feet tall; and third victim, Dennis Barnes, was killed yesterday, he was 59 years old, also 5’9 feet tall. All three were males, and as you can see, with similar physical features” she explains pointing with a laser to the pictures “Although, they were shot in different places; Sanders was shot in the stomach, Moore on the neck and the right leg, and Barnes was shot several times in… pretty much everywhere” García says, getting goosebumps from the images shown.

“He’s escalating, acting out of rage. Are there any connections besides the physical similarity between the victims?” Morgan asks.

“None, apparently. Sanders was a salesman, he was murdered in Pike Creek, getting out of a bar at night, Moore was a lawyer, killed in plain daylight, near his house in Glasgow, and Barnes was shot at his job, a car factory in Wilmington. No witnesses”.

“I believe we’ve got ourselves an unsub who uses his victims as surrogates for someone else due to the extreme resemblance they present. We’ll keep discussing it on the plane. Wheels up in 30” Hotch declares.

“There’s no evident pattern on the map, it just seems like the unsub picked… random locations” Reid says frowning while looking at the map, tracing lines on it.

“If he’s using his victims as surrogates, wouldn’t it be possible that these men are just victims of opportunity? Maybe the man who killed them is in some kind of delusion that they are who he really wants to kill, they cross paths with him, looking almost, or exactly like his target, and then… that’s it. They’re gone”. JJ says.

“Why are we assuming he’s a man?” Rossi questions.

“That’s a good point…” Spencer speaks “Nothing makes it look like it… this unsub… it doesn’t look like he had a special or knowing management of a gun given the places where he shot his victims, he didn’t use his hands, so there are no traces on the bodies, there’s no signature, no murder weapon, no sign that it was personal, there are no witnesses… there’s no way we can know if it’s a man or a woman”.

“Then we’re back at square one” Morgan concludes “We can’t move forward if we don’t even know if the killer is a male or a female ‘cause we’ve got nothing else, no signature, no nothing”.

“Of course we have something: victimology” Hotch points out “Try to stop looking for the unsub directly, start looking for the next victim, who fits the description and how could he be connected to the unsub. When we land, Reid and I will speak to Delaware authorities to find out what else they can tell us about the case, Rossi and Morgan, go to the last crime scene and let us know what you can tell about this last murder, JJ, go talk to the families of the victims, see what they can tell you about them, if they have any suspicions of someone who could’ve killed their relatives, and if they know of any connection at all with the other victims”.

“You got it” JJ assures.

“We’ll meet you again at Wilmington’s offices”.

While the BAU is busy trying to catch the killer in your town, you’re busy going to work riding your bicycle at the same time you brush your teeth.

You get to the flower shop almost half hour late and start giving Irene, the old lady you work for, explanations as to why you are late, she just looks at you all messed up and laughs, telling you it’s fine since it’s the first time you’re late and that it is no big deal.

You sigh, trying to calm your nerves. You stayed up pretty late last night, waiting for Connor’s text, letting you know he was okay. He’s been doing that for the past couple of weeks he’s been missing. At first you wondered if it was really him, he must’ve guessed that, because he sent you a voicenote, telling you not to worry, saying he needed to clear his mind, apologizing for his behavior… since then, he had been texting you everyday at the same hour every night, but last night, he didn’t text you until 4 a.m.

You figured it was normal, after meeting with your father again, who you hadn’t seen in your 25 years, until then.

You think about all of that while arranging all of the flowers on the counter and changing the signboard from “CLOSED” to “OPEN”, when you do that, you sigh again, sitting behind the counter, pulling a book out of your bag, waiting for the doorbell to ring, indicating you have a customer.

It takes less than 5 minutes for it to ring, which is weird. You frown without taking your eyes off of your book until you’re done reading that sentence. You look up with your best smile and ready to work, when you see your dad standing on the doorway. You roll your eyes and pinch your nose bridge on that precise instant, sensing an oncoming migraine.

“What do you want?” you ask, not raising your voice so Irene doesn’t get startled.

“I told you. I want to make peace with you. And your brother” he says, smiling. What a hypocrite.

“Sir. I’m gonna need to ask you to get out” you say, still not raising the volume.

“(Y/N)…”

“I told you that day at the coffee shop… neither me, or Connor, are going to make peace with you… you weren’t here… ever… the few things I know about you, are that you used to beat Connor and my mom up, and that you left the second I was born, how am I supposed to forgive you uh? Tell me” you rant.

“I told you, I am truly sorry”.

“No you’re not… and even if you are… it is not enough. Look, sir, I’m going to ask you to leave again, if you don’t, or if I see you again, I’m gonna call the police and accuse you of harassment, understood?” you state, voice firm and impassive. He looks at you, surprise in his eyes, but nods and turns around, opening the door.

“If you ever change your mind… I’m renting a small apartment here in Wilmington, in front of Stapler Park” he says before getting out and start walking.

“Screw you” you whisper, getting back to your book, when Irene comes to stand behind you.

“Your old man?” she inquires with her Alabamian accent.

“Nah” you say, not removing your eyes from the page you’re in “He’s not my anything”.

A couple of days went by, the team was at Wilmington's offices, discussing the case all over again after each of them had researched enough but came up clean.

"JJ what did you come up with?" Hotch interrogates her, frustrated about not getting anywhere near catching the unsub.

"Not much, I mean... I’m trying to make connections but... the three victims were pretty much... average Joe's... Adrien Sanders was out drinking with a couple of friends, nothing unusual according to his ex wife, Philip Moore was supposed to come home to his son and wife, he was only a couple of blocks away from his house, and Dennis Barnes was working on fixing some car engine, according to his coworkers. Nothing out of the ordinary, no leads..."

"Okay then, let's start thinking, if they're surrogates, who are they surrogates for?" Hotch follows up.

"Could be an ex husband?" Rossi suggests.

"Or perhaps it would be more likely to be an abusive relative?" Morgan thinks.

"Statistically yeah, 3.3 million American children are exposed to domestic violence in their homes each year, 45 to 70% of the same number of children who are exposed to domestic violence are also victims of physical abuse, because of the trauma, they have higher risks of alcohol/drug abuse and juvenile delinquency" Reid states, almost like quoting it from a book.

"The victims were 56, 57 and 59 years old, which means we're looking for someone between the ages of 25-30" Rossi says until Reid comes in again.

"Actually, I think we should consider 25-35 or more, statistics show that it is more likely to suffer from domestic violence when they come from an unwanted pregnancy, which means..."

"Teenage parents" JJ guesses.

"Exactly... we shouldn't even dismiss someone who is 40 years old" Reid assures.

"Okay then what are we looking for? Males or females who suffered from domestic violence, delusional, probably with a criminal record..." Hotch starts.

"Kids who suffer this, don't usually have social skills nor education" Rossi interrupts.

"I think it's time we give the profile" Hotch declares getting out of the conference room.

"We're looking for males or females between the ages of 25-40 years old, who suffered from domestic violence, they're more likely to have a criminal record, no social skills, and barely any or no education at all" Hotch says to the authorities who are present in the room.

"This unsub doesn't know how to manage his anger, he uses his victims as surrogates to what we think might be an abusive relative" Morgan informs.

"He or she might as well be delusional, he kills his victims because he thinks he saw his real target. The victims he's looking for are males from 55-60 years old, with a fair complexion, dark hair, and about 5"9 feet tall. When you relieve this information to the press, let them know the characteristics of the victimology, in case someone knows anyone who has this specific features. Thank you" Hotch concludes before getting back to the office with the rest of the team to call Garcia.

"Ready to act, sir" she answers.

"Garcia we need you to check reports from children who suffered from domestic violence in the estate of Delaware, more specifically in the cities of Pike Creek, Glasgow and Wilmington in the last 40 years" Hotch demands.

"Your wish is my command sir, and... oh... I've got 17,334 results..."

The team keeps trying to crosscheck results for a while, but none fit the profile.

"Maybe they weren't even born here" Rossi says, frankly exhausted.

The phone rings and JJ answers.

"Yeah... could you give me his name? Barry (Y/L/N)... okay, thank you, what about an address? That's okay, thank you ma'am" JJ hangs up and looks at the team "Someone fits the description of the victims".

"Garcia, could you look for a man named Barry (Y/L/N) please?" Hotch asks.

"Right... he is 57 years old, got married in Washington D.C... and... oh my god..."

"What is it babygirl?" Morgan questions, worry in his voice.

"It's just... there are... several anonymous reports of domestic violence... and... he has a daughter. (Y/N) (Y/L/N)".

"What can you tell us about her?" Hotch interrogates.

"She is 25 years old, lives here, on the city of Wilmington, she has no social media handles, but... something's not right".

"What do you mean?" JJ says.

"She doesn't fit the profile even though her father does fit the victimology. She went to kindergarten and the first year of elementary school at Washington D.C, then she continued studying but here in Delaware, graduated from college with honors from the University of Delaware, with a degree in fine arts."

"What about a criminal record?" Morgan inquires.

"None, she's... perfect..." Garcia says, giving up.

"Okay, thanks Garcia" Hotch says and hangs up, frustrated again "It doesn't matter that she doesn't fit the profile, we should still check her out, see what she can tell us about her father. Reid, I need you to take care of that, while the rest of us try to figure out if something went wrong with the profile".

"Why just me?" Spencer frowns.

"Because you're closer to her age, and given the facts Garcia gave us about her, she sounds pretty similar to you, maybe you can get her to tell you something relevant" Aaron tells him. Spencer doesn't look so comfortable going on his own but agrees at the end, when he's about to leave the conference room Morgan yells at him.

"Hey kid! Just wrap it up!" he says mocking him and starts laughing, the whole team starts giggling, except for Hotch who only looks at him and shrugs. Spencer's cheeks turn red and he rushes to get out of Wilmington's offices.

Meanwhile, you get home from the flower shop, still no sign from Connor.

You go to your room, dodging the canvas and cans of paint so you can change into something more comfortable when there's a knock at the door. You close your eyes and frown, waiting to hear Connor's voice.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" a man says through the door "I’m... Dr. Spencer Reid, I'm with the FBI, could you please open your door?".

Panic starts flooding you when the thought of Connor being in trouble pops up.

You walk slowly to the door and open it, revealing the most beautiful man you've seen in your entire life. Spencer is taken aback by your beauty as well, he looks at you in shock, as if he was expecting someone else.

"Are you...?" he starts.

"Yes" you interrupt “Uh... come in please".

When he enters the small house, the first thing he notices is a huge amount of books spread all over the place, you start picking them up and trying to pile them somewhere where they don't get in the way.

"I'm so sorry" you apologize "I wasn't planning on having any visits".

He giggles softly "It's okay" he says, helping you pick up the ones on the couch, leaving them on a table near it.

"Would you um...? Like some coffee? Or tea or water or... something?" you ramble.

"Coffee is fine, thank you".

You bring two mugs of coffee to the table in front of the couch, along with sugar and milk in case he’d like to pour some. You sit next to him, holding your cup between your both hands.

"So... how can I help you?" you finally ask.

"I'm with the BAU... the uh... the Behavioral Analysis Unit, we... profile the unsub... unsub stands for unknown subject... we-uh-we are investigating the recent murders that take place here in Delaware" he explains.

"Oh... okay" you say, still not understanding how can you help them.

"Do you... do you know this man?" he asks, showing you a picture of your father, you look at it, not even taking it to get a closer look.

"Yes, he's the son of a bitch who abandoned my family the day I was born" you whisper, holding your cup more forcefully than necessary.

He looks at you with a look you can't decipher.

"There are... several anonymous reports of domestic violence... I was wondering if... I could ask you a few questions about it, about your life in general" when he says this, it hits you.

"Are you considering me a suspect?" he scratches the back of his head, bowing it down.

"Your father... matches the victimology, and even though you don't fit the entire profile, we shouldn't dismiss any possibilities... I just... I want to know a bit more about you and your family, that's all, I'm not assuming anything".

"What do you want to know?" you murmur.

"What do you remember about your father?"

"Nothing. I told you. He left the day I was born, my mother died 6 years after that".

"What...? What do you mean? Who raised you then?" he looks surprised. You thought he would know that part of your life if he already knew who your father was.

"My brother of course".

He stays quiet for a couple of minutes, staring at you.

"I didn't know you had a brother" he confesses "What's his name?"

"Connor" you look down at your, now cold, cup of coffee, and take a sip.

"Can you tell me more about him?" he asks politely.

"Well... we were both born in Washington D.C... my mother had him when she was 18 and my father was 20, it was an unwanted pregnancy... for all I know, he used to beat my mother up, and Connor as well, when he tried to defend her. 12 years later, my mother got pregnant again… the day I was born, my father left, so my brother started working as a carpenter's assistant... after dating several guys, abusive, just like my dad, my mom got into a severe depression and died when I was 6 years old... by then my brother was already 18, and he had saved up enough for us to move here to Delaware... we've been living here ever since" you explain, the images of your mother, lying dead on her bed tormenting you again.

"So your brother... he worked and studied at the same time?" he questions.

"No... he... he couldn't afford to keep us both in school, he wasn't even able to finish elementary school but... he made sure I went to and finish college. He raised me... as if I was his own daughter" you say, feeling kind of guilty.

“What about his social life?” he asks, worry starting to show up on his face.

“Neither of us has what you would consider a social life… I’m always buried either on my books or my paintings, if not, I’m working on the flower shop, and he’s always buried on his work… we have each other, and that’s quite enough, when we come home we have dinner together, talk about our day, watch a movie or something… it’s… pretty much just the two of us against the world. It’s always been like that” you acknowledge, a single tear streaming down your cheek.

Spencer looks at you almost with pity and cleans the tear with his thumb mindlessly, even though he’s not too keen of physical contact, it just seems appropriate. The gesture sends butterflies to your stomach.

“(Y/N)… listen to me carefully… I need you to tell me where your brother is”.

“What?” you exclaim, fear coming out of your voice “You think he did this? No. Spencer… no, I’m sorry but that’s not possible. You don’t know him. He wouldn’t… no… the fact that the victims are similar to my father is just a coincidence, Connor is just… not capable of this… I mean…” you ramble with your voice cracking at the end.

“(Y/N)” he stares at you, looking directly into your eyes, it is as if he can see right through you “Where is he?”

“I don’t know!” you shout bursting into tears “He disappeared two weeks ago”.

“Why didn’t you report him missing?”

“’Cause he’s been sending me texts every night, letting me know he’s okay! I figured… we saw our father again… after 25 years without seeing him, he found us… I thought… I thought it was normal that he wanted some time alone…”

“What’s his phone number?” he asks, pulling out his own cellphone, dialing a number “Garcia, I need you to run a name for me and track a number”.

“Okie dokie” a woman says at the other end of the line “Shoot”.

“Connor (Y/L/N). He’s (Y/N)’s brother. I just sent you the number”.

“Alright, let me do my magic… mmmh… oh. Wow. This is weird. I’ve got nothing”.

“What do you mean you’ve got nothing?” Spencer says, raising his voice.

“He’s not registered. At all. Not even a birth certificate. And the cellphone’s off”.

“He was never registered” you inform “Our parents never considered it important, so...”

“Where does he work?” Spencer cuts you off in a desperate way, you give him the address of the truck company “(Y/N), I need to go with the team. Will you be okay on your own?”

You nod slightly “Just… call me when you find him… please” you plead, still sobbing.

“Yes. I promise. I will. Thank you” he says reaching for the doorknob “(Y/N)… please be careful. Connor is delusional… please, lock the doors and windows... and stay safe” after telling you this, he leaves in a hurry, leaving his cup of coffee intact on top of the table.

You sit on the couch, laying down slowly, you close your eyes. You fall asleep crying, wishing that when you wake up, everything going on around you is just a nightmare.

Spencer joins the team when they’re about to leave Wilmington’s offices to go to your brother’s workplace, the moment he hops onto the van, the whole team starts bombing him with questions.

“Reid, what did (Y/N) tell you?” Hotch inquires while driving.

“Her father left when she was born, her brother is 12 years older than her which means he’s 37, their father used to abuse Connor and her mother… the anonymous reports of domestic violence must’ve been done by him, but no one ever did anything. They saw their father two weeks ago”.

“That must’ve been the stressor” Rossi affirms.

When the team gets to Connor’s workplace, they don’t find him, but they do find his boss.

“Michael Turner?” Hotch asks a bald man approaching them, showing him his badge “I’m SSA Aaron Hotchner, this is my team, we’re with the FBI investigating the murders that take place here in Delaware”.

“How can I help you?” Mr. Turner asks unsurely.

“We’re looking for Connor (Y/L/N), I believe he works for you”, Michael laughs ironically.

“Not anymore” he says “That kid hasn’t come to work for days, the last time I saw him, he had to drop some packages in Pike Creek and Glasgow, when you find him, tell him he’s fired”.

“Mr. Turner, why did you hire Connor in the first place if he had no identifications?” Spencer interrogates.

“’Cause he was just a boy… just 18, having to take care of his 6 year old sister… I took him under my wing, how could I not? But for what I see, this is the payment I get” he exclaims angrily while turning around “Excuse me gentlemen, but I have work to do”.

“Thank for your time” Aaron says, turning back to the team “Where else could Connor be?”

“If he’s been looking for a specific target, that could be his endgame” JJ suggests.

“We need to know where his father lives currently, if he’s delusional about people who look like him, his father is his endgame” says Hotch.

“We need to be fast, he hasn’t killed anyone in days, that could mean he already knows where his father lives, I’ll call Garcia” Morgan decides and dials the number “Hey, talk to me babygirl”.

“My chocolate thunder, what can I do for you?” she answers.

“I need you to tell me where Barry (Y/L/N) currently lives”.

“Okay let me check, he… oh no. He just rented an apartment in front of Staple Park, here in Wilmington, I’m sending you the complete address right now”.

“Thanks Garcia, we’re on our way ” Hotch indicates, turning the siren on and starting the engine of the SUV.

When they arrive to Barry (Y/L/N)’s apartment, they discover he is just fine, watching TV on the livingroom.

“Can I help you?” he asks standing up, clearly mad about some stranger breaking into his house, his voice is hoarse from drinking.

“Mr. (Y/L/N), we’re with the FBI, have you seen your son Connor (Y/L/N)?” Hotch asks annoyed by the man in front of him.

“My son?” he chuckles “I don’t think my son will want to see me ever again”.

“He hasn’t talked to you? Threatened you?” Morgan inquires.

“No, but who did threat me, actually, was his sister” the team notices right away that he said ‘his sister’ instead of ‘my daughter’. Barry rolls his eyes “She said she’d accuse me of harassment if I came near her ever again”.

“She’s not our unsub” Reid claims abruptly.

“We know that, Reid” Hotch tells him, dismayed by his sudden behavior “Mr. (Y/L/N), please don’t hesitate on calling if something strange happens”.

“Stranger than a bunch of FBI agents breaking into my apartment?” he huffs “Yeah, okay, I will”.

The team gets out of the house, confused by the pattern Connor has been following.

“He hasn’t killed anyone else, that can just mean that he’s looking for his endgame, the one who made it imposible for him to live the life he wanted or deserved” Rossi intervenes.

“Unless…” JJ starts “Unless his father isn’t his endgame”.

“Who else could it be?” Morgan exclaims, raising his eyebrows.

“(Y/N)” Reid says, running towards the SUV, followed by the rest of the team.

Chapter 2

MASTERLIST

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

MASTERLIST PT 2

By following/interacting/liking you accept the content you are expose to/and to be 18 years old or older.

♤Alice in Borderland♤

♤ AIB BOYS + A/B/O AU

♤ Confusion - Banda x Reader

♤ AIB Boys with a S/O with anger issues

♤ Kuzuryu HCS SFW + NSFW

♤ Niragi HCS SFW + NSFW

♤ Chishiya x Dom!Reader HCS

♤ AIB Boys getting head HCS

♤ Glasses Niragi x Fem!Reader - SFW + NSFW

♤ AIB Boys + Baby Fever

♤ Accident Stream - ArisuxFem!Reader - NSFW HCS

♤ AIB Boys with a sensitive S/O SFW

♤ Kuzuryu x Fem!Reader - Attention NSFW

♤ AIB Boys Giving Oral NSFW

♤ Banda Sunato NSFW Alphabet

♤ AIB Boys with a random S/O SFW

♤ Karube NSFW Alphabet

♤ Protective Demons - Chishiya/Niragi/Banda Sunato/ HCS

♤ Yandere AIB Boys reacting to the death of their S/O

♤ Family in hell Dad!Chishiya x Mom!Reader

♤ AIB Boys with male!Reader HCS

♤ Who? - Niragi x Fem!Reader

♤ Yandere AIB Boys x Reader - Reacting to someone else kissing you

♤ Sweet You - Chishiya x Fem!Reader

♤ AIB Boys with a KpopIdol!Reader

♤ Bite! Niragi/Chishiya/BandaSunato x Reader / SFW

♤ Food Lover - AIB Boys x Reader SFW

♤ AIB Boys with a S/O with twintails hairstyle

♤ What?!! - Niragi x Fem!Reader

♤ Breed - Niragi x Fem!Reader

♤ Too Big - Banda Sunato x Fem!Reader

♤ Drunk I love you - AIB Boys x Reader

♤ Banda Sunato x Reader x Yaba Oki

♤ Banda Sunato x Male!Reader

○Squid Game○

♤ Shadow | Demon!Chishiya x Fem!Reader

♤ DARK | BandaSunato x Fem!Reader

○ The Salesman x Reader

[god-complex-12]

Tristful

— Paring; Will Dempsey x male reader. Fandom; Life Itself

Tristful [ trist-fuhl ]: (adj.) full of sadness; sorrowful

Quote; “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?”

Description; Will’s sulking on a bus stop bench and suddenly someone interesting sits next to him and brightens up a little more than just his day. Disclaimer; Liquor. Breaking down. Melancholy. Description of depression. Greif. Intoxication. Reader is a lawyer. Sadness? Angst? Immature jokes. Will sucks at flirting. No use of “Y/N”

Word Count: 1.4k

Life Itself Masterlist, Oscar Isaac Masterlist

Will sat at the bus stop bench. He has a brown bag with whatever cheap liquor he could get his hands on resting between his legs, his hand loosely wrapped around the neck on the bottle. His entire body leaning against the bus stop enclosure. The enclosure used to stop people from getting wet when it rains. He was already tipsy despite it being pretty early in the day. His eyes were tired and had a dead-like look in them.

A man sat next to him on the bench. Not so close to where they were touching, but the bench wasn’t that big so he wasn’t that far away from Will either. The man tugged his coat closed over his suit. He looked like a very well put together man, He dressed fancy. His hair was done. He crossed his leg over the other and gently bounced the one over the other as he waited.

The man’s appearance slightly shocked Will. He sat up a little straighter and moved the bottle of liquor to the other side of him, outside of the man’s view if he were to look over at Will. He momentarily forgot about his life and his disheveled appearance. He looked at the man. “Hey.” He could see his breath in the cold air and it made him feel like a giddy kid, thinking the smoke was cool.

He shook his head to get his head straight. “Are you waiting for the bus?” If he was sober, he would have slapped himself for the stupid question. He hated when people asked stupid obvious questions, yet here he was, at a bus stop, asking if this man was waiting for the bus.

The man could smell the alcohol off of Will, but said nothing about it. He didn’t think it was his business to point it out. “Yes, sir. I am,” He said, politely.

Will noticed that the man’s nose and ears were red from the cold air. He found it endearing for just a split second. He looked at the ground and he seemed like he was on the verge of just breaking down. Right then and there. He swallowed hard and spoke up again. “Where ya headed?”

The man smiled politely at Will. “Work.”

“Oh, what do you do for work?” Will seemed to take a little interest in what he had to say, wiping his eyes and putting a hand to his mouth as he covered it, trying his hardest not to sob.

"I have an office job." He said in a softer voice. He could tell Will was on the verge of tears. He didn't mention that, to avoid embarrassing him by chance, so he just spoke in a more gentle tone.

Will chuckled lightly. It was ironic that he had found himself in this circumstance, talking to someone so proper yet here he is. “What kind of office job? Accountant? Salesman?” Will tried his hardest to focus on the small talk with this proper man, rather than his life problems.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Cool.” Will was starting to crack. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried so hard to hide his pain. His voice sounded shaky, even more so because he desperately tried to cover it up. His voice cracked as he barely managed to say more words. “I’m a screenwriter.”

The man looked at him with a shocked expression, his eyebrows raised in interest. “Really?”

The stranger’s interest seemed to be the only thing to keep Will from breaking. He managed to look up at him and meet his gaze. His eyes were red and puffy from all the sadness, but he was doing his best to look happy. He managed a small smile. “Yeah, I write scripts and such.”

“Scripts and such?” The man repeated with a chuckle. “Is that a job or a hobby?”

Will paused. “A- a hobby,” Will said in a shaky voice. He tried his best to sound confident but he was failing. He coughed a bit and then spoke once more. “What kind of lawyer are you? Corporate, criminal, business?” Will was desperately trying to focus on something other than his grief, anything to keep his mind off of the pain he felt deep inside his soul.

“Criminal.”

“What’s it like? Like what do you do? Go to court and represent people and try to get them either the worst or best outcome, or something like that?” Will asked. He was still trying to figure out what life was like past his own misery. He couldn’t imagine doing anything other than what he used to do before life got dark, before the storm clouds came and life felt like a hopeless cause.

“Yeah, something like that.” He said with a laugh.

“Wow, that’s gotta be stressful. I can’t even imagine. Do you like your job?” Will said with a blank expression.

The man paused. “Um, to- to an extent.”

“To an extent?” Will looked surprised. He looked like he was thinking about the possibility of having a job he didn’t like. “How much do you like it on a scale of — let's say -– 1 to 10?” He was curious.

“6.9.” He said rather quickly.

Will smirked at the number. “6.9, why that number? Are you trying to be clever?” He gave the stranger a playful wink as he let out a quick laugh.

The man chuckled in embarrassment. “No, no, that was unintentional.” He looked away.

Will let out a chuckle as his cheeks blushed. His eyes met the man’s and he had a warm smile as his eyes looked into the stranger’s. “Are you sure? I think it’s a pretty genius number, if I do say so myself.” He tilted his head to the side as he said this, his eyes twinkling and his cheeks blushed as the two men locked eyes. He was clearly flirting. He looked rather attractive as he did so, and was rather happy at this moment. He was distracted from his pain and grief.

Will was shocked with himself at this new act, but for some reason, he didn’t care. He hadn’t flirted with some since her, let alone has he flirted with a man who was a stranger— yet here he was.

The man laughed and covered his mouth. He was slightly disappointed in himself for laughing at such an immature joke, but something about the situation made him crack.

Will let out a genuine laugh. He liked that the stranger had a sense of humor. “I’m sure you love immature jokes.” He said in a flirtatious tone while glancing at the man’s lips. He was a hopeless flirt. He let out a playful laugh afterwards, his eyes twinkling as he did so. “So, do you just practice criminal or do you ever do family law or something like that?”

The man paused and looked at Will before falling into a pit of laughter. He covered his mouth and leaned forward, tears pricking his eyes as he found the situation funny. "Business, dirty joke, straight back to business."

Will’s laugh slowly came to an end. He wiped the tears from his eyes. Will took the time to collect himself, and after letting out one last chuckle, he spoke once more. “Are you always this friendly? Or am I just lucky enough that you sat next to me today?” He looked at the stranger with a wide grin. His eyes twinkled and his cheeks blushed as he said this. He couldn’t help but giggle at his own words. “That sounded pretty smooth, didn’t it?”

The man started laughing again and he leaned against the bench edge. "Stop, my stomach's starting to hurt.." The bus suddenly pulled up and the doors opened and the man stood. “I have to go. Thank you. This has been a nice addition to my day.”

Will sat up a little more. “No, not without giving me your number.”

The man paused and chuckled. He pulled out a business card and gave it to him. “Message me.” He said before stepping onto the bus.

Will stared at the business card, and— for once —he felt happy.