#sorry it’s long and drawn out but I had to get it out bc I love this hc so much | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amuyyi · 5 months ago

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unfiltered y/n .

synopsis; two drabbles of y/n being the oldest of newjeans, yet arguably the most chaotic and childish. 21 year old y/n who's very gen z coded and borderline chronically online from a young age.

trope; platonic! newjeans x f!reader, just danielle + hyein bc im lazy

wc; 1.9k

cw; n/a

a/n; guys i think i fr forgot how to write erm so sorry this is dookie but i needed to write something lighthearted to keep my sanity even tho writers block is real rn thumbs up emoji ... also y/n is just me again LMFAO

Humming, your eyes glaze over the Phoning chat. You and Danielle sat comfortably within your practice room, the younger girl joining shortly after seeing you had started a livestream. There was no particular reason for this stream, you simply felt like entertaining your fans for the day. Throughout the livestream, you and Danielle simply talked, being some of the most social and extroverted members of Newjeans, it wasn’t hard for you two to popcorn different topics from one another.

“Did you ever read Warriors?”

“What, that book series about the emo cats?”

“They’re not emo– well…. Actually…”

Both you and Danielle burst into a fit of giggles as you tried to explain the lore of the Warrior Cats series, which then went into you making a powerpoint on why your company should allow you to have a cat in the dorms, which then went into a conversation about how you guys wanted to decorate your ideal home…

When you and Danielle were put into a room together, it almost seemed like you two fueled each other's energy in a never ending cycle. Still, as your laughter dies down, the pair of you decide to just chill, even for a moment. Your attention gets drawn back to the comments whilst Danielle aimlessly scrolled on her phone for a bit.

“y/n, who are your favorite kpop artists??” You read out loud.

Your eyes light up at this question. Before becoming a trainee, you were a die hard fan of many groups back when you were younger. Honestly.. You were a bit of a chronically online kid, despite your social tendencies. Back in the day, you ran a kpop stan twitter, and are well versed in the new vocabulary of online meme culture… as embarrassing as it was to admit the more you thought about it.

After reading the comment, the mischievous and playful glint in your eye was impossible to ignore, and Dani seemed to pick up on the shift in energy. Shooting you a suspicious glance, you decide to speak up.

“Ah there are so many groups I love… But.. I’d have to say Red Velvet and LOONA...!”

It was an innocent enough answer at a glance, but to some, the underlying message behind it was glaringly obvious.

Almost immediately after speaking, in the most obvious and not discreet fashion, you freeze, arching a brow making a curious looking expression at the camera as you pucker your lips. It was undeniable that you were referencing an all too familiar meme within the LGBTQ community.

Honestly, you were never one to shy away from your sexuality. You were lucky enough to know who you were from a young age. (All of your odd childhood crushes practically spoke for themselves. Rain from the movie Spirit, for example. The horse.)

It wasn’t long before the girls caught onto you, and they have been nothing but supportive since. Oftentimes they would tease you over your clinginess with your other members, or how you’d very publicly fawn over other female idols, while nearly all of the light drained from your eyes when approached by a man.

In hindsight, it was a surprise that they didn’t catch on sooner. The way you acted so stiff around male idols when forced to do Tiktoks with them, or how you never entertained their advances. However, it seemed like Some fans did seem to notice faster than your own members, and deemed you “Irene's daughter” as a result— a title in which you wear with pride, might you add!

That wasn't to say you didn't have your own hardships and struggles with your sexuality at the same time, though. Of course, being a part of one of the biggest kpop groups of your generation, you couldn’t express your sexuality publically. Not yet. It was too risky. A large chunk of your fan base consisted of straight men anyways… Potential backlash would be detrimental. You didn’t want to drag the others down with you. Not when you guys have so much ahead together.

So you keep your head low, put on your best smile, and focus on your members.

….Until moments like these, of course.

Eyes practically boggling out of her head, Danielle bursts into laughter, shoving your shoulder with one hand while she covers her face with her sweater sleeve.

“Unnie…!” she scream-whispers, baffled by your words. Of course she knew what you were hinting at, she didn’t live under a rock her whole life.

Seeing Danielles reaction only seems to egg you on though. What? You weren’t saying anything explicitly queer. Only the people that mattered would know. Worst case scenario, you’d be in some odd rumor or speculation that had no real evidence to back you up. Maybe you’d be seen as an ally. Humming once again, you pretend to think.

“Though if you want to know about male artists….” You take a significantly longer time to answer this as Danielle is left a giggling mess next to you. She seemed almost a little distressed through the laughter, but she trusted you.

“I would probably say I like EXO and Shinee the most.”

Once again, you make that damn face, and Danielle throws her head back in hysterical laughter. She grabs your shoulder and shakes you around, whispering quiet scoldings into your ear as you snicker, feigning an innocent look as the chat practically blows up.

[cha3wonz] – HELLO???? [kaheii] – y/n blow a kiss if u like women [luv__newjeans] – okay ally

Unsurprisingly, clips of your shared live with Danielle went viral. Many stan accounts on twitter began to speculate that you were queer, whilst others fully embraced it. Your favorite posts were the edits of you with the rainbow flag followed up by a question mark. It was all too good.

Honestly, you didn’t even think it was a big deal. You didn’t pay much attention to other male groups– you never did, really, but when you looked at the new incoming generation of boy group members… They practically had the whole pride parade following them.

There were a few minor articles about you here and there, but you were mostly off the hook.

Danielle lay sprawled across your back whilst you lay on her bed, scrolling through Twitter aimlessly as she laughs at the comments on your recent instagram post.

“It seems that your fangirls can't get enough of you, lovergirl,” she teases lightheartedly as you wiggle beneath her weight, giggling.

Maybe one day you’ll share the news to your fans, and maybe one day they won’t even be surprised. But you’re glad to have what you have now. Just you, your girls, and your ever growing folder of queer y/n memes off of Twitter.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Hyein was in the middle of a solo livestream within her bedroom, lying comfortably in her bed as she showcased various articles of clothing she had bought with Hanni the day prior.

The livestream was going well, peaceful as Hyein makes her way through several t shirts, sweaters, pants, and skirts of all colors and styles.

Right when Hyein was about to reveal her favorite article of clothing from the haul, loud, almost desperate banging rings throughout the room. An almost pathetic sounding yelp of surprise erupts from the girl before she curiously glances at the livestream.

Leaning forward, she whispers to the camera, “I think… I think there's a creep trying to break in…”

Suddenly, the door bursts open, with a very flustered and irritated y/n tumbling in shortly after. iPad in hand, you collapse into the bed next to Hyein

“Guys, guy, GUYS. The theme was scene!!! What the hell is this?! Look at THIS versus MY outfit!” You exclaim almost a little too loudly as you shove the ipad in front of the camera. Failing to focus on your screen properly, the viewers simply saw a bright white square as you groaned.

Baffled and still a bit in shock, Hyein speaks up, “Unnie, it's really not that serio–”

“This is bullsh–” You cut yourself off as Hyein snorts loudly at your near slip up. Clearing your throat, you grip your ipad a little tighter than needed, trying to calm down.

“This is unfair. And you know what's worse? Its probably some nine year old with their friends voting for them behind the screen!” You whine out dramatically. With how upset you were getting, it wouldn't be surprising if this genuinely was the one determining factor that would either make or break your night.

Hyein couldn't bite back the amused laugh at your seriousness.

You took your games pretty seriously. Even if it was roblox. There was something familiar and comforting about it all, really. Lighthearted games like this played a major part in your childhood— which was, of course, abruptly cut short once you became a trainee at age 14. Now that you were an adult with a job as an idol, you could buy your own robux, buy your own gamepasses and items… and most importantly, stomp on little kids in-game. You were here first, after all.

“Unnie, aren't you like, 21 years old? Don't you think you’re a little too old to—“

“And aren't you like— what, 12?!” You shoot back without even missing a beat.

A brief, yet suffocating silence passes as the both of you stare at each other, wide eyed. Never in your years of knowing the younger girl have you ever been so.. sassy to her. You were the oldest, after all. It was your job to take care of her.

Almost instantly, you drop your ipad and tackle the younger girl in a hug, crying out, “BABY HYEIN!!! IM SORRY…!!!”

Hyein on the other hand, was not as reciprocal to your attempts at apologizing. Upon being tackled, half of the air in her lungs practically got knocked out of her, and she finds herself tumbling backwards into the blankets below. Instead of accepting your obviously very real and very distressed apology, she began struggling to wriggle out of your grasp as she yelled out, “NO! LET ME GO UNNIE!! LET ME GOOO!!!”

Though the youngest towered over you by over half a foot, your grip on her was borderline deadly. Squeezing your arms tightly around her neck in an attempt at being soothing and sweet (you werent) you scream at yourself, rocking her back and forth.

“I'm so STUPID im SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY I JUST WANTED YOU TO PLAY WITH ME.”

Incoherent screams and movement was seen from the livestream for about 5 minutes before Hyein tapped your arm, giving in.

“Fine, fine..! I forgive you unnie, just let me go…!”

The moments following Hyein’s acceptance of her fate seemed to actually go by pretty smoothly compared to the chaos that had just ensued a few minutes prior.

Laying in bed together, the two of you played dress to impress while on the live, occasionally interacting with the viewers, but mostly focusing on winning the game. A comfortable silence passes, the only sound being nails against iPad screens.

The pair of you would proudly showcase your creations to the camera, and shared mutual frustration when neither of you would even place despite the immense efforts you put into your outfits.

“I swear to god Hyein, I’m gonna buy both of us VIP and we’re gonna leave these girls in the dust…”

As you prepare to go up for your final round of the night, Hyein suddenly perks up.

“Oh look, unnie! This outfit is actually pretty good…”

“Huh? Oh!! You're right! This is super pretty…”

“…”

“Two stars?”

“Two stars.”

#kpop x female reader #kpop fanfic #kpop #kpop x fem reader #gxg #gg fanfic #kpop gg x reader #kpop gg #newjeans x reader #danielle x reader #hyein x reader #danielle marsh x reader

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dr3amfyr-e · 5 months ago

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brat. - j.v. ( w. 4.5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ ⎯ i cannot stress enough, football means ⚽️ not 🏈. childhood-friends-to-lovers, but you have to get through my 2000 word psychoanalysis and backstory first. light angst. mention of the death of a parent. lots and lots of talk about the velaryon-targaryen-hightower family dynamic. light make out action. reader's family is implied to be wealthy enough to have a summer home. almost everyone lives au. set in the uk, not westeros. omitted daemon rhaenyra marriage because there’s no way to to make it even semi-normal. realizing now i omitted daemon entirely erm sorry. pushing the laenor agenda bc he’s my favorite character. this is abhorently long. extreme overuse of the em-dash. uhh the perspective is wonky in a few places. part two. ⎯ ୧

i had to write this twice. i'm offering this to you with shaking hands, like a peasent child begging for coins. i may write a part two because i have more to say, but i don't want to figure it out rn.

On the cold January morning that Jacaerys Velaryon-Targaryen was born, the media went into a frenzy.

The Targaryens were old money, their fortune rooted a century back in good investments. Historically adept at finding their way into things, the empire had a string to pull in every industry. From art and law to technology and shipping, if business prospects looked good there would be a Targaryen investment.

And then there were the dogs — regal greyhounds, with long, thin bodies and sleek coats. The Targaryens bred them as far back as bloodline records went. The pups were never for sale; sometimes they were used as show dogs, and successful show dogs they were, but more often they were pets. It was a status symbol, to nonchalantly own such a coveted creature.

The Targaryens were idolized in the public eye. They were all stunning, with sharp features and silver hair, and each member of the family seemed to possess a Midas touch. But, where Valyrian blood ran hot, so did the press. It was no surprise when magazines started to turn a profit from silver heads plastered across their glossy covers. It was the price that came with God-like aristocracy.

From editorials to gossip columns, people devoured the insider life of the untouchables. When Aemma Targaryen died, there was a four-page spread in nearly every magazine; complete with pictures and quotes. Business papers filled with opinion pieces about Rhaenyra’s inheritance claim to her family’s empire; magazines exploded with the announcement of her engagement to Laenor Velaryon, and subsequently Viserys’ marriage to Alicent Hightower, the daughter of his lawyer.

When Jacaerys was born, reporters lined up outside of the hospital doors. There were cameras and microphones and crew trucks, and Rhaenyra hated it. It wasn’t the way she wished to welcome her child into the world — swarmed by people who didn’t know nor care for him.

Laenor had always been good at navigating the attention, and Rhaenyra was constantly grateful. So, when he pulled his gaze from the babe and steeled himself to deal with the onslaught of reporters outside, tears pricked at her eyes. Appreciation, exhaustion, adoration? She couldn’t be sure.

Looking down at her son, she thought, he’s perfect. He had a smattering of dark hair, and he was quiet but not concerningly so. Wispy lashes fell upon his cherub cheeks, and when he eventually blinked up at her his eyes were dark. He looked nothing like her — she didn’t care.

She refused to talk to anyone outside of her family, and had the curtains in her private room drawn. To expose her son, her heart, to the prying eyes of the bored masses with nary a care for his well-being was a nightmare. She wouldn’t have him exploited.

At the time of Jacaerys’ birth, she and Laenor had been married for a little over a year. Laenor’s father, Corlys, managed the bulk of the import and export for Viserys’ company. Corlys was a good man, he hadn’t dreamed of marrying his son off. But Laenor and Rhaenyra were both in the same impossible situation: the wiles of youth mixed with the ever critical public.

They had both fallen into scandalous relationships, both preyed on by paparazzi. If they married one another, it would save face for both of their families. Plus — both being the eldest and heir, this would clear the expectation of a dignified marriage. They agreed to leave each other to whatever youthful fun they wanted to have, as long as everything was discreet.

Both the Velaryons and the Targaryens kept a summer home in Dragonstone, a private community in coastal Wales. It was the perfect place for Rhaenyra and Laenor to begin their life — far from her father, close to his parents, and out of the line of sight for any nosy journalist.

The public eye had looked to other things by the time Lucerys was born, two years later. Again, Laenor dealt with the small gathering of reporters with the utmost grace, and Rhaenyra submitted a written statement.

Alicent divorced Viserys that same year.

As she watched her boys grow up, full of energy and life, Rhaenyra thought, there was no one better to parent with than her best friend — a title Laenor had rightfully earned. They hadn’t had much choice in knowing each other, and they certainly would never have chosen to be married, but he made a bearable roommate. They had things in common; they liked the same music, and the same men. They drank the same wine and frequented the same restaurants. And, they both loved their boys.

As Jace and Luke grew up, they found the best company in each other — the school in Dragonstone was so small, though, that there were very few other options. They both played on the school’s small football team, and Jace took piano lessons while Luke learned to fence. Where Jace was driven by emotion, Luke was level-headed; where Luke was cautiously quiet, Jace spoke his mind. It was an ideal childhood, the Welsh coast was an idyllic backdrop to grow up upon, with the sea in their backyard.

They were ten and eight when Joffrey was born, both excited for their new brother. Their mother brought him home, bundled in a soft red blanket. The boys sat on the couch beside Rhaenys and stared at him for upwards of an hour.

Hardly a week had passed when Harwin Strong died. He was a family friend, a frequent presence in their home and life — Jace and Luke had been upset by this, of course.

In time they came to understand the situation fully. Jacaerys first, fitting the pieces together with the evidence he found in the mirror. Neither Rhaenyra nor Laenor had dark hair, like he and his brothers.

His matriline was uncontestable though, as he grew into himself. He possessed the same nose, jaw, brow, and high cheekbones that Rhaenyra wore. The comparisons between the two became more frequent as he grew older, and he found himself to be quite proud to look like her.

Her attitude lived in him as well, the temperament she had been so notorious for as a girl festered in her eldest son. She had once been christened ‘The Princess of Dragonstone’ after flipping off a reporter at their summer home. Jacearys earned it for himself when he was fifteen, after loudly berating a reporter. He had been defending Luke, but no one seemed to care when they deigned him ‘The Prince of Dragonstone’. He took it with grace, claiming that he couldn’t help but be his mother’s child.

It instilled a sense of public propriety he strove to uphold.

Rhaenyra remarried the same year — to Alicent Hightower — and moved her children from Wales to London. It took a while to adjust to the new life — Jace liked his new school, but he detested his step-brothers. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t come around to the idea of living with Aemond and Aegon, who took so much pleasure in making he and his brothers miserable.

After the first month, Jacaerys fell in brilliantly. He performed well in school, quickly being enrolled in the advanced literature and history courses. He got on well with his peers, and made a number of friends. He joined the football team and spent his Sunday afternoons learning piano concertos.

Living in London made him a more publicly prominent figure in his family's legacy. He knew how to play his role as heir; he carried himself perfectly — confident and charming and elegant. He didn’t particularly like being in the public eye, but there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he did something to receive positive public attention.

King’s Landing, much like where he had grown up, was a community reserved for the upper echelon. Situated in Northwest London, and surrounded by wrought iron gates, it was regal and dignified. The house had high, vaulted ceilings, large stained glass windows, and more than enough bedrooms. It rained more, Jacaerys noticed in the first month. When it had rained in Dragonstone he would watch the droplets bounce off the sea, where it lapped at the sandy bay. Here the rain splattered unceremoniously upon the pavement.

For as wonderful as life in London had turned out, Jacaerys found himself longing for what was left behind in Dragonstone. Laenor lived there still, and while he called often and visited as much as he could, it wasn’t the same. Jace’s childhood bedroom remained, along with all of the memories in the house he grew up in. And his friends. There was an assortment of people he only saw between late May and early September; the children of the other seasonal residents. The number had dwindled in years past, with fewer of them returning for break — favouring more interesting places, like Ibiza or Rome, as they got older.

Far too few of his childhood friends he kept in contact with, especially after the move to London. You were the exception.

He was grateful, on days when it stormed in London, to receive a silly text or too-long voice note. It made things feel less dull — you had a way of doing that.

He took to reading theory around the time he turned seventeen. It’s queer theory, at the suggestion of his cousin Baela, who lent him his first Judith Butler book. He finished it that weekend.

His aunt Laena and her two daughters lived in London, and Jace found a close comrade in Baela. She played competitive tennis and listened to riot grrrl, she was much cooler than him and he knew it. Her bedroom held two massive bookshelves, and she let him pillage her collection for De Bouvier and Didion and Gay. Hours were spent lying across the floor in Laena’s house, studying, or reading, or talking. He enjoyed Baela’s company more than any of his school friends, favouring anything with her over anything with the boys from his football team.

His youngest sister, Visenya, turned one around the same time. Baela, staying with Jacaerys while he babysat one night, inducted him into the eldest daughter club.

“You’re so keen on driving your siblings around, and taking care of them. Plus, aren’t you your mother’s closest confidant?” She asked.

True, Jace supposed. He was the oldest of Rhaenyra’s children, and the most responsible of his brothers and step-siblings. His mums both worked full time, they were busy but as involved as possible. Jace just did the menial things. He made Joffrey breakfast, picked Luke up after school, and watched Visenya when necessary. He didn’t mind.

Baela argued that he should mind.

He had been a sensitive child, more so than his brothers, but it made him incredibly emotionally adept as he aged. So many boys his age prided themselves on stoicism, but that was never something Jace felt connected to. He always felt things too deeply to bottle them up — it accounted for the occasional temper that flared up when he was upset, but also how empathetic and kind he was.

Jacearys was set to graduate with honours in the first week of May. It was three months before when college acceptance letters began to appear in the mail. He had applied to a number of places, and been accepted everywhere. The University of the Vale was where his hopes hinged though.

Just after Valentine's Day, it showed up. The envelope was wide and stuffed full, and sealed with a wax stamp. His acceptance letter was on the very top of the stack of papers — the thick paper heavy in his hands, as he admired the blue printed border and silver flocking.

Rhaenrya sorted through the informational packets while Jace reread the letter. Part of him couldn’t believe it was real.

He sends you a picture of the letter, and you respond in kind with one of an identical nature.

You hadn’t planned to go to the same university, but it certainly was a happy coincidence.

After graduation, he was beyond excited for the reprieve that Dragonstone granted. The promise of early morning hikes, and evenings spent on the beach — the once empty house, full of life and bustling with bodies.

You were the first thing Jacaerys thought to look for when he set his bags down in the summer home.

It was late May, and you were guaranteed to be out of school. I’ll text after I unpack, he thought, pulling clothes and books from his suitcase.

His room in Dragonstone had once been his childhood bedroom. The walls were a warm tone of white, and the small bed was still covered with his blue and white checkered duvet. Piano scales and pictures of his brothers and friends adorn the walls. There was a soccer trophy on the back edge of his desk, something he had won when he was eleven. It was stuffy from nine months of stagnance, but familiar all the same.

He pushed the curtains back from the window to let sunlight filter into the dusty room, gazing down at the beach, when he spotted your figure. He was quick to rush downstairs, out the backdoor, and across the stone path that leads from the patio to the beach. He greets you with a call of your name and a tight hug, sunglasses perched atop his head and linen shirt half buttoned.

It had been a year since he’d last seen you. You had kept in touch during the school year; Jace favoured Snapchat and FaceTime, delighted with the pleasure of seeing the mundane things you were up to. There was a nearly constant text thread, and voice memos passed back and forth. But, it all paled in comparison to physical company.

He abandoned his housekeeping duties, keen to sit on the beach and talk. And you did so for hours, about everything and nothing. He tells you about his last year of school and listens as you do the same. When the sun dipped past the treeline, he leaned back on his elbows, watching the water crest on the sand. He felt more at ease than he had in a while, enraptured by the ease of your presence. The conversation flowed, there were no awkward lulls and no pressure to talk about something dignified. It was comforting to be so close to someone who didn’t see much of his life in London — you knew the best version of him.

Your friendship had always felt like that, from a young age. On days that smelled of sunscreen and sea salt in his mind, you would meet in the mornings and depart past dark and then do it again the next day, never tiring of each other. Your parents knew his, so you had always been welcome in his home — invited or not. You had shared a bed during sleepovers, drunk from the same cup, and fallen asleep on the couch during movie nights countless times. Quick glances and imperceptible expressions were a language you communicated in, reading each other without words. In your presence, Jace was the most comfortable.

The summer slipped away as it always did, taking long nights and leaving memories of sand and sunshine. The days were ambled away in the water, on rocky hiking paths, or in the meadow that sat a mile away from all of the homes.

Jace had started The Hobbit before school ended — most days he found himself sprawled out in the park or on the beach, reading. He had also taken to running with his dog, Vermax, in the mornings. He relied on the serotonin boost to start the day, and with no football to play a jog was a decent alternative.

When the summer drew to a close, the typical melancholy that befell the return to the real world wasn’t present in Jace’s mind. He presumed it had everything to do with the fact that he would see you every day now

You have one college class together — a nine a.m. medieval literature discussion.

Clinging to familiarity in the new environment, he glued himself to your side for the first week of classes. He memorized the way to your dorm, meeting you outside every morning to walk together to your first lessons. The meandering conversation was a good start to the day, and he silently relished in your tired eyes and quiet voice, not yet used to the early schedule.

On Friday he all but begged you to come back to his dorm after the discussion; it was your only class that day so you had given in. You hadn’t seen his living quarters yet, and he wanted to spend time with you, worried for when your schedules would fill up and you would lose room for each other.

The discussion had been mind-numbing. You reviewed the same syllabus as the lecture, and went over the same rules and policies as every other class. With the thirty-five minutes remaining, the teaching assistant made everyone watch an incredibly monotone video about the history of medieval England.

Jace linked his arm into yours in the hallway after class, pulling you to the doors. The cool morning air was refreshing, waking you up more as you walked across campus. His dorm building was new and modern, seventeen floors with grey siding and big windows. It was private housing, clearly expensive.

He had a single room with an adjoining bathroom and a small common space. The walls were typical dorm white, with laminate wood flooring. Joffrey’s school photo is hung on one wall, the frame clearly decorated by the child with glitter and string. Scattered across the other walls were photographs in thin silver frames, a large world map, a clock, and a cross-stitch of a rainbow stag beetle.

Sitting on the couch, you observed the unframed photos that lay across the coffee table, inspecting a leggy grey dog as you plucked it from the pile, “Who is this?”

Jace leaned into your side, gazing at the photo, “My mum’s dog, Syrax,” He reached over you to tap the picture, “Syrax is my dog’s mum.”

He slipped his hand into yours as you walked with him to his second class of the day.

In the third week of school, Jace asks you to attend a mixer for a pre-law society with him. He doesn't know anyone, and doesn't want to be alone at the party. You meet at his dorm at a quarter-to-six so you can walk to the event together.

The dress-code is emi-formal, and when he opens the door to you his hair is slicked back with water and he smells like his cologne — musk, sandalwood, and amber.

“Are your clothes pressed?” You ask, grinning at his freshly ironed slacks and the three buttons undone on his shirt.

He rolls his eyes, locking the door behind him as he escorts you down the hallway. The walls of the elevator in his dorm are mirrored, and you laugh at him when you catch him taking pictures of himself. He makes you take one with him, and sets it as his lock screen.

The mixer was in the dean of law’s massive house, buzzing with young people in smart outfits. Jace abandons you about fifteen minutes in, spotting a group of poli sci majors from his social psychology class.

From his childhood spent between galas and his mother’s business meetings, Jace was good at navigating these situations. He was charming, leveling the professors with charismatic smiles and confident posture. He was good at holding an intelligent conversation, discussing theory and strategy.

You were on the patio, watching the stars, when he found you an hour later.

His arms brushed yours as he leaned against the railing, “Sorry for leaving you,” His voice was quiet, and he stared at your profile, watching the way the moonlight illuminated your skin.

You wave his apology off and make him buy you coffee in recompense on the way home.

You’re stood talking together on the quadrangle a few weeks later, a cup of hot chocolate warming your mitten-less hands, when you realise just how cold it’s gotten. It's just too cold for the thin jacket that you try to sink further into, hiding from the wind that bites at your delicate skin.

Jace watches you shiver, observing your lack of appropriate attire.

“Are you cold?” He asks, reaching out to run his hands up and down your arms, half to warm you, half to gauge how thick your jacket is. Not very.

You nod, “I didn’t check the weather this morning.”

He sighs with exaggerated exasperation and slides his arms around you, careful of the paper cup you held. Of course, he’s worn the right coat, and you feel the downy material of his hood against your cheek as he rubs your back to generate some warmth. You smell the cologne on his collar and the expensive shampoo he uses; he grumbled something about taking better care of yourself.

Then, one particularly cold Friday morning he has forgotten his coat. Dressed in a hoodie, he mirrors your excuse from the week prior, smiling sheepishly — face flushed from the chilly air, dark curls blowing around his head like a halo. You take pity on him, slipping your scarf off. You loop it around his neck, tucking the ends down into the collar of his sweater, and leave him with a fond peck on the cheek; his skin is cold.

He's appreciative, though the scarf does little against the cold wind cutting through his sweater. Still, he doesn't give the scarf back.

With the cold, comes midterms. You’re the first person Jace asks to study.

Your dorm room is closer to the central part of campus, and thus a shorter walk in the bitter cold. Jace brushes snow out of his hair as you unlock your door, ushering him inside. It's small. Two twin-sized beds, one on each wall, with nary enough room for two bodies between them; a desk is crammed into the small space between your bed and the window. You let him take the desk, spreading your books and notes out across your bed.

Your dorm is old, and the room has very little ventilation. Despite the frigidity outside, the room is stuffy and almost hot with both of your bodies inside. An hour into studying Jace shrugs off his heavy, knit sweater and pushes his glasses up into his hair.

“What are you working on?” You ask, leaning forward. You’re bored, working on the same power point you started yesterday. You want to talk to him, though he doesn’t seem keen on the idea

He doesn’t look up from typing as he speaks, “Analysing The Art of War.”

You shut your laptop, bent on distracting him, “The book?”

He nods but doesn’t give a verbal response.

“Who's that by?” You ask, fighting to suppress a grin

This time he does look up, glaring at you over his glasses, “Sun Tzu.”

His tone is short, but it's amusing to annoy him so you grin, suppressing a giggle, “Sounds very interesting.”

“What do you want?” He asks after a beat, still holding your gaze.

You shrug, “Nothing. I’m bored,”

The next time you study is even less productive, school work discarded on his floor in a matter of minutes.

“We can’t be trusted to work together,” He tells you, watching as you calculate his astrological chart, geometry homework forgotten.

You attend your first college party together in November. When you arrive at his dorm, he’s dressed much more casually than normal.

You reach out to tug at the thin silver chain peeking out from his shirt collar, “This is fun,” You tease, giggling, “Aiming to impress tonight?”

He rolls his eyes in mock-offence, turning you around by the shoulders to shove you out of the doorframe.

The lights in the house are dim, and they strobe slowly through different colours. It’s too dark and too bright all at once. The music is almost unbearably loud and people are packed in like sardines, it’s all incredibly overstimulating.

When he senses your unease, Jace takes your hand, pulling you tight against your side to lead you through the throng of bodies. He’s looking for someone, but you’re unsure who, and he canvases the whole space before giving up on finding them.

The backyard of the house is quieter, but the ground still vibrates from the bass of the music. People are scattered about, smoking cigarettes and sipping from bottles of cheap beer.

You both learn what Jell-O shots are, and make out in the bathroom back at his dorm. It’s not the first time you’d kissed each other, trying it a few times in your adolescence just to see what it was like. But this is different, tipsy and sloppy, as you giggle into his mouth.

It's forgotten in the morning, when you wake up in his bed still dressed in your going-out clothes, head pounding.

But then it happens again, the week before finals.

You had stayed at the library far too late studying, leaving the pair of you to walk back to his dorm in the dark. It's positively frigid, cold December air whipping snow into your face.

There are still snowflakes in your hair as you shed the thick coat you’re wearing, pulling off your gloves and hat.

There's a bottle of wine in Jace’s freezer, left by Aegon the weekend before. It's expensive and rich and red, and Aegon would likely skin you if he found out you were drinking it — but, that's part of the fun. There's a baking show on the small television, and you’re curled into Jace’s side to steal some of the warmth from his body.

When the program lulls he brings his hand to your hair, combing through the tangled strands. You pay it little mind, leaning into his touch as you watch a contestant on-screen whip macaron batter. His fingers slide down to your jaw, turning your head so your eyes meet his. He’s studying your face, cheeks flushed from the wine or the cold.

The attention is odd, and you giggle nervously under his gaze. His hands come to cradle your jaw as he leans towards you, nose brushing yours. The air is charged with an unusual tension, his mouth a breath away from yours.

When he kisses you, he’s slow and gentle, his whole body angled into yours. Everything feels warm, a welcome contrast to the weather outside, and you chalk it up to the glasses of wine coursing through your bloodstream.

It's pleasant, different from times past; this certainly doesn’t feel like an innocent, experimental kiss. It's heated, tinged with passion. He uses the placement of his hand to ease your jaw open, tongue sliding slowly into your mouth.

There's a vibe, something you hadn’t felt before with him. It's communicated through the gentle touch of his hands, and how his breath hitches when you kiss him back with the same sort of force.

The moment is broken by the announcement of a winner on the television. His hands slide down, resting on your shoulders, pulling your frame into his.

You don’t talk about it afterwards.

#guys be honest can you tell that i work for a newspaper #column ☝️🤓 editorial ☝️🤓#i wrote a whole 4000 word draft and fucked the perspective so badly i had to rewrite the entire thing #this actually kind of cooked me tbh #pls dont base my merit as a writer on this fanfic that i wrote in the car and also in a public bathroom in the suburbs of chicago #HONESTLY i'm not really a modern au enjoyer but this is eating my brain so it needs to get out into the universe #i got locked into a public bathroom while writing this btw #𖦹｡⋆ jace #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #prince jacaerys

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celestie0 · 1 month ago

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hi my friends! hope you're all doing well. just wanted to come on here and share a little updates w you guys (if you're still here lol)

i guess it's been like a month n a half since i formally went on hiatus, and it's been nice! i got kinda sick for a little bit lmfaooo which was tough to manage w school, but i'm better now

although i took time away from my blog, i still delved in writing here n there. i haven't written anything for kickoff since tbh i'm in such a slump w it. but i still have big plans for stuff that happens after ch13, so hopefully i can just push through this next chapter and get to a better place. thanks so much to anyone that is still interested in the story, it means a lot to me. i know i'm so slow w updates and the story has been going on for almost a year now, but the continued support is so sweet! even though i didn't work on writing it these past one n a half months, i still really love it and plan to finish it.

i'm not sure if many people remember that i had this sort of "apocalypse" gojo x reader au about an asteroid being set to hit the earth in three days, and reader n gojo are ex lovers n the impending end of the world makes them break no-contact...yeah i finished writing the first chapter for it and i really love it so far! it's like set in new york which is really fun haha i love stories where new york is kind of its own "character" if that makes sense...it will definitely be a limited series w only 4 chapters or so, but i kinda wanna finish all 4 chapters before i start posting it bc i don't want it to be a drawn out series in terms of posting since i think it'd be best enjoyed in frequent succession if that makes sense

as for ihm, i think i wrote the most for ihm during my hiatus. i finished three chapters for it, but they are shorter chapters (around 3-4k words). i kinda realized one of my biggest reasons for burnout w my fics were the reaaaaallly long chapters...like didn't i have a 22k chapter for kickoff or sumn lol. idk i can't remember. but anyways, yeah the mindset behind the longer chapters was bc i liked each chapter to kinda have its own conflict, build up, tension then resolution in a sense. but it was exhausting to write that way tbh lol. so i think moving forward, for ihm, i will have shorter chapters. i just don't wanna think to much about things anymore, and write from my heart, bc i have a lot of things planned for ihm, and among the criticism i've received for my writing choices vs my own vision for the story, i've realized during my hiatus that the only way i can finish ihm, or any of my storeis for that matter, is if i just.........stop giving a fuck about it. lol idk if that sounds strange to say, but like, i don't want to over-edit anything. i don't want to think too much about redundancy. i don't want to flower things up or cut stuff out. i'm at the point where imma just write a first draft, check for grammarly errors, and then post it. i guess the reason i'm sharing this is because idk if this means that people may enjoy my writing less since i will admittedly be spending much less time on it than i did before, but tbh i realized i find the most joy while i'm writing, and not while i'm editing. so i want to spend as little time on the latter as possible, and if that changes the quality of my work, then so be it.

anyways, hmm as for hiatus. i guess i'm off hiatus now? i really enjoyed being off of tumblr tbh this app has a lot of questionable content at times (esp in jjk community) and it also did wonders for my studying bc i wasn't spending time doomscrolling or shit posting anymore lmfaooo. but as for writing in particular, i think i will start to post ihm again exclusively. i can't say anything about kickoff or my other projects, but i feel comfortable to start posting ihm again.

sorry, i know that i have kept my replies and ask box off for a long time. but i will open them again once i start posting chapters because i really miss interacting with you guys.

anywho, these are my updates lol i'm like not sure how many of my readers are still here or which ones have moved on but that's ok, i'm grateful to anyone n everyone. hope to see you all soon again!

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starrywilliams · 9 months ago

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END OF DESIRE

sub!abby x reader

summary: abby hates distractions when she’s reading, but this distraction is very welcome.

notes: short bc i don’t have the motivation to write anything long…!!! i used the iliad for this bc she has it and it physically hurts me to not write as lore accurate as i possibly can

warnings: not proof read !!!! cunnilingus, fingering, (both abby!receiving), yeah it’s just kinda filthy idk…

nsfw under the cut!

leant up against the headboard was a trembling girl, fingers tightening around the faded paperback with all her strength. “keep going abby.” you whispered, “if you stop, i stop, okay?” you reminded her of the agreement, nails pushing gently into the flesh of her thighs, a small whimper falling past her lips.

she took in a deep and shaky breath, pushing the glasses back up her nose. “helen has nothing but her b-“ she gasped softly as she felt your tongue drag over her clit, earning a harsh stare from below. “b-beauty. and the charm it casts on all men,” another whine escaped her throat as you left small, wet kisses around the edges of her pussy.

“without aphrodite she would be n-nothing.” she stumbled over her words, struggling to focus with your touch between her sensitive thighs. “you’re doing so well, don’t stop.” you smiled, the incoming cruelty begin to pervade your consonants. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on ear- fuck!”

she whimpered as your tongue pushed into her, hips bucking off the bed. you slapped her thigh, reminding her of what she was supposed to be doing. “shit, sorry,” she apologised breathlessly, restarting the sentence. “and aphrodite plays the same role on olympus as on earth.”

she swallowed harshly, fingers quickly swiping over her foggy glasses so she could keep reading. she sighed as she felt one of your fingers replace your tongue, pushing deep into her. she met your eyes, understanding that you weren’t gonna move until she continued.

“she gives hera, who wants to diverttt-“ the word faded into a whine as you curled your finger inside her, her head hitting the headboard with a light thud. “baby, you don’t want me to stop, do you?” your coquettish voice had her squeezing her eyes shut, head shaking. “n-no.” she sighed, looking back down to the blurry pages.

“divert zeus’s attention from the battle so poseidon,” abby whimpered breathily, your increasing pace making it impossible to concentrate. “ so poseidon can help the archaeans, the breast-“ a second finger sinking inside of her aching hole cutting off the word midway through. “keep going.” your stern voice left no other option for the desperate girl.

“-band, pierced and alluring, with every kind of enchantment woven through it.” abby breathed in heavily, legs trembling over your shoulders. your fingers kept up their unforgiving pace, stretching her out in the best way possible. with each thrust inside her, she could feel her high getting tugged closer and closer - whines slipping off her tongue endlessly. but she was supposed to be reading.

“fuck, w-why did you stop?” she said, voice hoarse and desperate. between your vexed eyes, glaring up at her, and the disbelief lining your slight grin, it didn’t take long for her to piece together your reasoning. “i’ll keep reading, just-just don’t stop, please?” she rambled, slightly high-pitched in her frantic desire, pulling the book back up before her face.

“there is the heat of love,” feeling kind, you’d started again, the sound of her struggling to get out her words coherently far better than anything else. “the pulsing rush of longing,” you could feel the need rushing all over your fingers, she was fucking soaking.

“the lover’s whisperrr-“ abby whined, feeling your lips attach to her aching clit, tongue swiping over the swollen bud. “irresistible.” she stuttered, all attention drawn to the stimulation that threatened to envelop her entire body soon. but she knew better now, she had to keep going.

“madness to make,” her thighs were shivering around your head, pussy pulsing around your fingers, while a spare hand laced itself into your hair - keeping you as close as she possibly could. “the sanest man go mad- fuckfuckfuck,”

her hips were grinding against your face, incomprehensible noises spilling out of her throat as you continued to fuck her. “go on baby, you can do it.” you mumbled against her clit, feeling her tighten around your fingers within seconds.

“ohmygodthankyouthankyou-“ her barely coherent words slipped aimlessly out of her mouth as she gushed all over your fingers. you kept going, replacing your fingers with your tongue, tasting her desperately. when you tried to return to her clit, you were hastily pulled away, the sensitive girl shaking her head as her thighs snapped back together.

“you wanna keep reading? i can always get the-“ you started, stopping at the notice of her eyes - renewed with a fresh desire. “oh, okay.” you laughed softly, realising it was your turn now.

#tlou #the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #sub!abby #sub!abby x reader #smut #wlw smut #lesbian smut #Spotify

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urhoneycombwitch · 11 months ago

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shrine of your lights

🍯 honey flavour: edibles and a church wedding to attend. what could go wrong with Eddie as your plus one?

🐝 the bees: FWB!Eddie x reader

wc: 4.8k

content warnings: a smidge of Catholic blasphemy, weed usage, friends w/ benefits Eddie, R is a bit of a love (and relationship) skeptic and Eddie is lovesick, R+E are in their 20’s, pining, public sex (no one but them observes tho), R has hair long enough to tuck behind ears, R gets a hickey but skin tone/color is not described, R has breasts and a V, softdom Eddie, marking kink (?)

foreword: I listened to Say You Love Me by Fleetwood Mac for this. LOL. kind of AU bc it’s a few years after ssn 4 and everyone is alive and just fine (lovesick but oh well can’t b helped) based on this anon thank u for inspiring me!!!!

The stained glass window in front of you looms tall, afternoon light streaming through and casting a kaleidoscope of colors on the polished wood flooring. You stretch out a hand into the warm beam of sun, admiring the way the colors catch and bounce off your dainty star-chain bracelet.

When Eddie had suggested you two eat some weed brownies as a precursor to your (very distant, very Catholic) cousin’s wedding, you hadn’t quite expected to get as stoned as you are now. Since Eddie hasn’t attended any major life functions sober since 1981, and seeing as how you refuse to step foot inside a church space without some sort of social lubricant, the weed wasn’t a hard sell at all.

To be fair, Eddie had warned you of their potency, and you had snuck another quarter of a brownie when his back was turned: but christ, your tolerance must be crazy low or something, ‘cuz a window has no right to be this mesmerizing.

You’ve been staring at it for the past five minutes, in your own little world while a steady stream of wedding guests file in through the big oak doors and mill about before the ceremony. The warm, still air of the church is heady with the smell of fresh florals and incense, and a line of votive candles flicker and wink against the windowsill.

Casting a glance over your shoulder, you see Eddie’s still speaking in gentle tones with an elderly woman (whom you’re likely related to, hard to say) near the foyer, all charming smile and sincere hand pressed to the slip of bare chest his button-down displays. You’ve got to hand it to the guy, he’s really great at endearing himself to total strangers; he’s been a natural shoe-in for any plus-one you’ve needed over the past few years.

While Eddie is perfectly in his element, holding what looks to be an engaging conversation while stoned to all hell, your focus is drawn back to the window. You should probably be on the arm of your guest, seeing as how it’s your family wedding after all, but the swirling lights and colors are too alluring to pull yourself away from.

“Beautiful piece of art, isn’t it?”

The voice behind you is unfamiliar, and proper social graces here would call for an introduction, perhaps a firm handshake, but your limbs and tongue feel so loose and the reply is out of your mouth before you can think twice- “God, yeah. S’fucking gorgeous. I want one for my house.”

There’s a light cough, and when you turn on your low-heeled Mary Janes it’s under the amused eye of a priest- in full priest-garb. Green velvet robes and little hat and everything.

You realize your error- swearing and taking the Lord’s name in vain- but the brief stint in Catholic school from when you were 6 is unfortunately not recalled in time to stop the scramble of swears mixed with apologies that come tumbling out.

“Oh shit- I mean- fuck. Oh god. Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean-”

The priest- old as hell but thankfully with sense of humor still intact- smiles kindly at you and takes your hand in both of his, patting graciously. “No apologies are necessary, my dear. The beauty of God can be overwhelming and awe-inducing.”

You nod jerkily, grabbing on to his excuse- “Yes, yep. That’s exactly what happened. Struck down by the awe.”

The priest nods to you, and then to Eddie (who’s appeared at your side like a guard dog that sensed trouble), then wanders off down a row of pews to greet other guests.

You’re nearly doubled over with the effort it takes to conceal your laughter, Eddie stroking a calming hand down your back and chuckling with you under his breath.

“Struck down by the awe, huh?” he echoes as you straighten back up and dab at the tears gathering against your lashline. “You really are somethin’.”

“That was so embarrassing but guess what-” here you lean in, voice a conspiratorial whisper as Eddie raises his eyebrows to look down his nose at you- “I don’t give a fuck ‘cuz I’m hi-igh.”

This last word is sung with a two-note lilt, and you turn back to the comfort of the sunny window as Eddie steps in beside you, shaking his head. “I told you to start with a lower dose, ya goose. Did you take more when I wasn’t looking?”

You shrug a shoulder, the soft linen of your cardigan brushing up against the hard leather of Eddie’s jacket. “Maybe. Couldn’t say. You gonna steal this window for me or what?”

He blows out a breath, pretending to appraise the size and heft, rapping his ringed knuckles against the sill- “Well normally I’d say ‘anything for my girl’, but we’d need a shrink ray for this type’a heist.”

“Maybe Dustin has one we can borrow.”

He sucks his front teeth, playing along, shaking his head in faux-disappointment. “Nah, little shit’s only got a ham radio. Useless when it comes to religious robbery.”

Eddie looks overly pleased when you giggle, but some of the humor in his face falls to concern as he reaches out to squeeze your upper arms. “Hey. You doin’ okay? If you’re too stoned to sit through the ceremony, I can find us a little spot to hole up in. I’m good at finding those.”

“I know you are,” you reply, waving away his worry. “I’m fine, honest. Do I look high?”

He holds you at arm’s length, giving you a contemplative once-over. “Nope. You look beautiful.”

You roll your eyes, affectionately, then smooth your palms over the front of your black slip dress and pull the scalloped sleeves of your cardigan into place. “Well, of that I am aware.”

Eddie winks, and you really wish you were sober enough that the warmth of his hands and the smell of his cologne would have less of an effect but high as you are, you want nothing more than to burrow into his neck and taste the salt of his skin.

“Do I look high?” he asks, pulling away to do a little spin so you can appraise his appearance.

Eddie Munson, as it turns out, cleans up very well for family functions: smart black boots, maroon button-down tucked into a pair of flare-legged trousers, worn but well-kept leather jacket to top the outfit off. And in signature Eddie fashion, little glints of silver highlight the ensemble- his usual chunky rings, stacked layers of thin chain necklaces, metal buckles on his coat and at his waist, even a set of tiny hoops (courtesy of your jewelry drawer) in his ears.

The dryness in your mouth has nothing to do with your intoxication as you blink back to the present and give Eddie a once-over. “Uhm. Nope. You look sober. And very hot.”

He grins at you, wolfish, but then a bright chord of organ music signals the start of the ceremony. With a steady hand on your back, he leads you to a pew near the last row; when you’re both seated, his hand runs smoothly down to rest on your thigh, drumming a lazy beat with his thumb against you as the processional starts.

Your cousin Marion looks lovely swathed in white tulle, contrasted with her groom in a black tux. Her mother, your aunt- Karen? Karina? can’t recall- dabs at her tears with a delicate lace handkerchief in the front pew as the couple exchanges vows, promising eternal and ineffable love until their ultimate demise, etcetera.

You’re not someone who’s ever fallen prone to the gushy emotions that love seems to create in so many of your peers. While Nancy and Robin will dole out tissues to each other during some cheesy romcom, you’ll get ribbed for being so stoic. None of your breakups have ever ended in giant blowouts or dramatics from your side- hard to fight for something when you hadn’t really cared about it in the first place.

That’s why you consider yourself so lucky, when it comes to Eddie. After the two of you ended your high school fling due to graduation, you’d come back to Hawkins after a few years of college and found yourself sneaking out like a teenager again to hang out with Eddie Munson.

He told you he doesn’t want anything serious, either, and that he’s just fine being friends who sleep around and go to all of each other’s parties.

You almost believe him.

He’s been to every one of your nephew’s hockey games this past season, and you’ve spent two cozy Christmases so far at the trailer with him and Wayne; every party in between has ended with Eddie driving you home, or (more frequently) back to his place. Your collective relatives and friends haven’t asked about your relationship status in years, and it’s all thanks to Eddie’s presence in your life: if the two of you aren’t technically dating, it’s really no one’s business.

The old priest from earlier is droning on about some bible verse; uncomfortable on the hard bench and feeling restless, you shift your hips, and Eddie digs his fingers into the meat of your thigh.

“Quit. Squirming,” he murmurs, lips at your ear. When you shiver and still, he pats your leg and straightens again, eyes fixed to the front altar.

You and Eddie make it through the ceremony with minimal damage, only getting one dirty look from an older man in the pew ahead when you’d snickered at a dirty joke (courtesy of your benchmate). Marion and her new husband greet their guests one by one as everyone filters outside, and you coast easily through the interaction, kissing your cousin on both cheeks and fawning over her dress and giving just the right amount of congrats before Eddie plucks at your elbow to subtly redirect your attention.

“Let’s get some food in you,” he says, linking your arms together as you follow the receiving line outdoors.

The reception is held just next to the church building in a surprisingly lovely courtyard. Sunlight filters through the willow trees at the edge of a grass yard, where a picnic basket awaits on each spread quilt. People are kicking off their dress shoes, unwinding with the lure of nature, kids chasing each other through the paths between blankets as adults wiggle their toes into the grass and dig into the luncheon.

Possibly, you’re high and over-romanticizing, but you can tell by the look on Eddie’s face he’s there with you, taking it all in from your blanket in a quiet corner of the yard.

There are finger sandwiches in the basket, along with some fresh fruit and plastic utensils and plates to eat off of; Eddie fixes you a plate and you dig in happily, sock feet tucked under yourself, yours and Eddie’s shoes in a jumble nearby.

“Could eat anything when I’m high,” you muse, then bite into a sandwich that has the perfect cream-cheese-to-cucumber ratio with a contented sigh. “Food is so good.”

Eddie snaps a baby carrot with his back teeth, then snorts at you before reaching out to tuck one side of your hair behind your ear before it gets eaten along with your food. “I know you can eat anything when you’re high. I once saw you scooping up apple pie with potato chips.”

You give him a sidelong frown, mouth full of bread and veg as you defend yourself- “Yeah, and it was great. Dee-licious. Would do it again if-”

Your name is being called, and you swivel to see a young man about your age weaving along the spaces between blankets towards yours and Eddie’s spot.

“Tony!” In a neat bit of multitasking, you manage to swallow your food and rise to your feet (albeit unsteadily, with Eddie’s hand snapping out to support your efforts), then hold your arms out to envelop the boy in a hug. “Oh my god, it’s been ages.”

Anthony Townsend has grown up in the time you’ve spent away- the last recollection you have of your former childhood neighbor is his mop of red hair bouncing with the trampoline his parents bought him in 6th grade. He grew into his looks, for sure- the awkwardness of pre-teen ears and too-big front teeth have settled into a very kind and handsome face.

He looks genuinely pleased to see you, returning your hug with a squeeze, pulling back to hold both your hands and ask about where you’ve been. You breeze through a highlighted version of the last few years, leaving out all the interdimensional monster bullshit and focusing the questions back on him.

Tony’s telling you about his father’s veterinary practice that’s still running smoothly when you feel Eddie at your back, and Tony falters, dropping your hands.

Social cues come a tad slow to you, under the influence, and you think Tony’s stumbling because you haven’t introduced him yet (how were you supposed to know Eddie’s been glaring daggers at the poor kid ever since you’d hugged him?), and you attempt to remedy your mistake with a casual remark- “You know, Eddie here has been feeding the stray cats at our place every night, a whole colony of them- there’s gotta be, what, ten of ‘em now?”

You turn to Eddie for confirmation, reeling a little at the dark scowl he’s still sporting as he nods. “Yup. Somethin’ like.”

Tony scratches at the back of his neck, freckled cheeks pink as he begins to back away- “Um, yeah. Cool. Well it was great to see you! I gotta…”

With a vague gesture, he turns and tails it back to his blanket on the other side of the yard. You whirl on Eddie, his face smoothing back into relaxed indifference, even as you hiss, “What the hell was that?”

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t know what you mean, princess.”

“That,” you repeat, waving an arm in the air for emphasis. “I know I’m not sober but you were being weird, even by my standards.”

There’s this look that Eddie gets, sometimes, when one of you bumps against the walls of your loosely-defined relationship- a brief flash of pain and sadness before it gets hidden away behind his comfortable mask of bravado.

He’s got it now- a small pinch in his eyebrows, doey eyes swimming with emotion, and you put a hand on his leather-clad arm as the pieces fall into place. “Were you… are you jealous?”

In the span of a blink, the mask is back up, and with a dry laugh that’s so unlike him, Eddie shakes his head. “Nah. What do I have to be jealous of, huh? ‘S not like we belong to each other.”

Maybe on a different day, with half the weed in your system, you’d be able to let this comment slide. But there’s something deeply hurtful about it, sinking and twisting in your stomach like a stone. Your grip tightens on Eddie’s arm, tears stinging hot at your eyes, voice a watery, desperate thing- “Don’t say that. Please don’t say that.”

Eddie is quick to comfort you, once he realizes you’re close to crying- “Shit, sweetheart. Okay. You’re right, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to think…” Your voice is still shaky with emotion as Eddie lets you hold on to him, gently shushing you even though there’s no one near enough to hear. “You’re important to me, Eddie. I never wanna make you mad, or upset, or-”

“I’m not.” Eddie cuts smoothly into your rambling, placing his hands on either side of your neck as you cling to him, cool rings kissing into your skin. “I’m not mad, promise. I was just being an asshole for no reason, okay? Could never be mad at you.”

His thumb strokes at the column of your throat, your breath and heart rate lulled to normal under his touch, his expression returning to the gentle fondness you’re used to seeing.

“Let’s finish up lunch, hm?” Eddie says, and with a final soft squeeze he pulls away from you, taking with him the warmth of his palms.

It’s always like this, with him, at least in front of your respective families- any PDA is kept to a strict minimum, nothing too intimate or drawn out so as not to attract attention. You’d implemented this rule from the beginning, and Eddie has been nothing but respectful of it, your peace of mind over not wanting a label pacified.

But right now? The lack of Eddie’s arms around you or his lips on yours was starting to make you ache.

You both settle into the blanket again, conversation flowing around mouthfuls of food as you catch Eddie up with the latest family gossip, laughing when he bats your pointer finger out of the air (as if anyone is really paying attention to you two giggling loons).

Someone’s brought a radio and has it dialed to a soft rock station; you gasp and shove at Eddie (sprawled out like a house cat after a full meal in the sun), exclaiming “It’s Fleetwood Mac and you love Fleetwood Mac!”

“I so don’t,” he grumbles, but rises easily when you tug at him to stand sock-to-sock feet with you in the grass.

You both fall into a smooth rhythm, Eddie’s hands staying (respectably) on your hips, yours looped around his neck, doing a slow little rotation. He gazes at you as you sway back and forth in each other’s arms, the scrutiny making you titter and fidget.

“What?”

“Thought I told you to quit squirmin’,' ' comes his answer, hands tightening into the meat of your waist. “Let me look at you a minute.”

So you let him look.

While his chocolate eyes roam your face, you trail a hand up to curl a lock of his hair around your finger. Eddie leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut, giving you room to do some staring of your own at those long, dark lashes.

After another slow circle, Eddie inhales and draws himself back, clearing his throat. “Not that I’m not enjoying this, sweetheart, but we’re gonna start getting looks if you don’t quit using me as your personal stress toy.”

You snort. “You’re right. Sorry.”

“All good,” he replies, dimples springing into his cheeks, teasing again- “When we get home later you can pet me like a dog, if you want. Just gotta tone you down ‘cuz you get touchy when you’re high.”

Eddie’s being a perfect gentleman. He’s sticking to your rules and looking out for you.

So why is it making you so sad?

You realize, with a stunning clarity, that you don’t want to wait until you’re back at the trailer to touch Eddie. That you’re starting to crave him when he leaves, whether it’s for a day or an hour or just out of bed to get a snack.

Fuck it, you think, and bend to scoop up your shoes.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tell Eddie, slipping on your shoes then starting towards the building. When you realize he’s not following, you pause, giving him a look over your shoulder- “Aren’t you coming?”

Eddie blinks, wondering if you’re insinuating what he thinks you’re insinuating or if he’s just really, really high. “Um. Uh…”

You don’t leave room for the shock to sink in, turning on your heel and smirking when you hear him swear under his breath and scramble to catch up.

In a narrow hallway lined with portraits of long-dead saints, you push Eddie against the wall, mouth sealing over his and hands roaming hungrily over his body.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, in between kisses, your fingers tugging at the root of his hair, near the nape of his neck where it stings the best- “what’s got you so worked up, princess?”

“You.” The answer is an honest one. You slip your tongue between Eddie’s teeth and the boy moans, melting into you.

Peppering kisses down Eddie’s face, your lips settle into the hollow just under his jaw, then part to give room to your teeth. Eddie stiffens as you bite down, sensitive skin pierced by your mouth; it’s his turn to be the squirmy one as you suck a bruise into that soft spot.

His cock is filling out, as proved by the steadily-growing bulge behind his zipper. You give a mean little wiggle of your hips and Eddie jolts so hard you lose your spot on his neck, popping off him with a wet smack.

“Angel, you have to stop.” Eddie sounds absolutely wrecked as he tries to maintain some distance, head tipped back to stare at the popcorn ceiling. “M’not gonna last if you keep doing that. Let me take you home, we can-”

“Shhh.” You quiet him with a pointer finger smooshed against his lips, your other hand tilted to your ear. “You hear that?”

Eddie strains to hear distant cheers and hip hip hoorays from the festivities a few corridors away; when he nods, you whisper, “That’s the cake cutting. We have a good ten minutes before anyone thinks to come back here.”

At first, Eddie thinks he’s off the hook when you release him completely, walking swiftly towards the main sanctuary. But then, because you’re a temptress, you beckon him with an impatient wave.

And because he’s so easy for you, he follows.

It’s like that window has a magnetic pull- you’re back under the prismatic glow of the stained glass, brushing a hand across the wide sill to dust it before hopping up to perch there. You fit neatly between the split row of votive candles (all snuffed out by now), enough room for your knees to part and for Eddie to fill the space.

You cross your arms around his neck, drawing him in with another deep kiss as his hands find your waist.

“Want you to mark me up,” you murmur, and when Eddie draws back, wary, you let your chin tip up. The crown of your head knocks into the window, exposing your throat. “Show them I’m yours, Eds.”

Only have to tell him twice, apparently, ‘cuz his teeth sink into your stretch of soft skin without further qualms. The feeling of his tongue soothing over the sore spot makes you jump, hips bucking forward into his hand that you didn’t even notice had trailed up the inside of your dress.

His long fingers pet at the wet patch that’s seeping through your underwear, catching at your clit on an upstroke, your gasp a harsh noise in the otherwise silent sanctuary.

Eddie begins to rub at you through the fabric in earnest now, tight circles with his thumb even as he pulls his mouth from your neck to assess his handiwork. “Yeah, fuck, sweetheart, that’s gonna leave a mark. You want everyone to know who you belong to, huh?”

Your bundle of nerves throbs under Eddie’s touch and you curse, hands weaving tight into his hair again. “Shit, Eddie, yeah- just like that…”

He dips back into the well of your neck with his teeth, keeps just the right amount of pressure on your clit, and that tension coiling in your lower stomach is just about to snap before you stop him with a hand around his wrist.

“Sorry,” you pant through the apology, forehead crushed to Eddie’s collarbone as you try and catch your breath. “Was about to come and I want you inside of me for that.”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

Eddie fumbles with his belt buckles as you giggle, chastising- “Hush and mind your manners, Munson. That’s blaspheming and we’re about to fuck in a church.”

“I’ll show you manners.” Eddie has his pants and briefs shoved to mid-thigh before you can draw breath to tell him off; one hand smears precum down the shaft of his ruddy cock as the other pushes your dress up and hooks your panties to the side.

You’re wet and worked up enough that he slides into the heat of you with ease, breath punching out with the way his cock completely fills you. When Eddie pulls out and sinks back in, you let out a keening whine and scrabble for purchase on his leather jacket.

“That’s it, sweetheart, that’s it-” his voice is a dark rumble, each word punctuated with a snap of his hips, the squelch of your slick walls responding. “So wet for me. That’s my good girl. You like gettin’ off to being mine, huh, angel?”

You nod, head lolling against the window, and Eddie grins wicked even though you can’t see it. “Come on. Show me whose pussy this is.”

When his hand snakes between your bodies to press against your clit with his thumb, you come with a long, strained whimper, ankles crossing at the small of Eddie’s back to draw him closer while the velvet walls of your cunt spasm.

Eddie’s free hand shoots out to the supporting wood arch of the window for stability as he angles his hips up, longing for that glossy honey-eyed look you get sometimes: and there it is, your eyes half-lidded and brow pinched in pleasure as his cock hits against that gummy spot, the tremble of your thighs locked around his waist as your orgasm peaks.

Once he’s fucked you through the height of it, Eddie dips to bite at the taut muscle where your neck and shoulder meet, clamping down on the words threatening to flood out as his hips stutter. He comes hard, deep groan muffled into your neck, curses and praises spilling out in mindless babbling: “Fuck fuck, angel, that’s it, honey, shit, you’re so wet. All for me, huh, baby? Doin’ so good…”

He sags into your arms, pinning you to the window, chests heaving in tandem as you both catch your breath. You stroke a hand down his back, towards his ass, and then to the edge of his pants.

When he realizes that you’re trying to tuck him back into his clothes he whines at you, but you’re quick to shush him. “We’re cuttin’ it close with timing already, Eds. Help me out?”

Reluctantly, Eddie pulls away from the wet warmth of you to re-dress. Once his belt is in place he attends to you, helping shift the hem of your dress back down, rubbing his finger lightly under the skin of your eye where some mascara had smudged.

“I’ll double back for the keys and we’ll go home, ‘kay?” Eddie says, nose nudging into your cheek. “Wait here. You got some wicked marks and everyone will know we just fucked.”

“Pfft. No they won’t. Who would actually fuck in a church?” You push Eddie back playfully, hopping down from the sill with a wink. “You’ve gotta be sick to do that. Good thing my family believes you to be a perfect goody-two-shoes.”

Eddie stares as you make for the doors back to the courtyard, shrugging off his incredulity- “Eddie. It’s fine. So they’ll think we made out a bit. Who cares? Not me. And plus…” here you trail off and point, mischievous, Eddie’s eye’s following the line to his sock feet- “...you kinda have a no-shoes situation goin’ on. Gotta fix that.”

When you disappear through the doors, Eddie slams a palm to his chest, in awe- then feels the outline of the lighter in his inner pocket. With a practiced twist, he has it out and lit in a second, holding the flame to the wick of a votive candle.

“I don’t know how these candles work, exactly, or if atheists are allowed to…” Eddie clears his throat, glances over his shoulder to confirm you’re still out of earshot, then whispers above the flickering light: “Please let this be real life and not just some high-fueled fantasy because this is kind of huge for me. Okay thanks. Amen, or whatever.”

Eddie blows out the candle like it’s a birthday wish then hurries to catch up with you, sock feet silent against the wood floor as he calls out your name- “Slow down and have a heart, babe, I’ve got no grip!”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #weed mention #tw weed

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de4dlyniightshade · 11 months ago

Text

꩜ QUEEN OF HEARTS

꩜ PAIRING: spencer reid x afab!reader

꩜ RATING: +18, mdni

꩜ WORD COUNT: 3.8k

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, public sex, sub!virgin!spencer, cumming in pants, thigh riding(ish), fingering, praise, a little exhibitionism, getting caught(kinda).

꩜ PROMPT: sneaky fooling around with sub spence on the job

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

A/N: i have mixed feelings about this but i'm posting it anyway bcs i feel like it. also this is proofread but i'm a moron and blind so don't get your hopes up:3

Spencer was, gently put, dumb. Now, obviously, he was intelligent, very, very intelligent, but you can be both in rare instances, and Spencer was a rare instance.

He was completely unaware and blind to his looks, which was obviously due to his childhood of being relentlessly bullied and tormented, causing him to overlook his appearance and how truly attractive he was, no matter how many people told him, flirted with him, or hit on him. I mean his nickname was literally "pretty boy" for a reason, but he just thought it was a sarcastic joke.

"All alone, handsome?" You smiled, noticing Spencer tucked away in a conference room all on his own, surrounded by files, your voice making him look up from the one he was reading.

"Oh uhm, yeah, it just got a little loud out there; I work better in a quiet place," he explained, a tight-lipped smile on his face before he looked back down at the file, furrowing his brows as he scanned it.

"Everything okay?" You asked at his expression, worried that he was struggling and needed a break, which he was terrible at, always overworking himself for the sake of the case, even though he could barely think straight after working himself to the bone for days.

"Yeah, I just- I can't find any connection." He sighed, dropping the file on the table before leaning back in his chair and rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair.

"Need some fresh eyes?" you offered, closing the door behind you to help drown out the loud chattering in the police station you were working in, slowly making your way over to him and hoisting yourself onto the desk beside him, not missing the way he swallowed, his eyes flicking down to your thighs before looking away again.

"Y-Yeah, sure," he murmured, sliding the file over to you before dropping his hands to his lap to fidget with his fingers, picking at the sides of his nails nervously.

"Spence, stop," you warned, looking at him with knowing eyes. It was a bad habit you'd noticed he had, sometimes picking his skin so much that it was red and raw and sometimes bleeding. You'd told him many times to stop before he hurt himself, but it never really worked.

"Sorry…" he mumbled, flattening his hands on his thighs before looking away from you again, scanning the room to distract himself. Your eyes landed on his hands, noticing a familiar red substance at the side of his nail, making you let out a sigh.

"Spencer, you're bleeding; gimme your hand," you sighed, placing the file down beside you and holding your hand out to him, watching his eyes flick between your face and your hand a few times.

"The amount of pathogens passed through holding hands is staggering; it's actually safer to kiss." He stated, it was completely innocent, but the way your stomach churned wasn't. You'd had a thing for Spencer for a long time, but he was just so naive that he couldn't see it; today he'd see it.

"Is that an offer?" You teased, quirking your brow at him as his eyes widened, realising what he had said and who he said it to—a very attractive woman who was sitting right in front of him in a small, hidden room with the door closed and the blinds drawn, his cheeks flushing at the implication.

"N-No, I was just- I- " He stuttered, averting your gaze and swallowing thickly as you smiled at his flustered state, watching as he lifted his hand, placing it in yours in an attempt to make the whole conversation stop.

"Oh Spencer, does that not hurt?" You tutted, furrowing your brows at him at the raw, bleeding skin on his finger, your thumb stroking the back of his hand, absentmindedly.

"A little..." he spoke softly, lowering his head slightly as you sighed.

"Hold on, just a second," you said as you got up from the table, making your way to the door where you'd left your bag, unzipping it and digging through it for a moment, perhaps bending over to show a little bit of your butt from under your skirt on purpose before you finally pulled a bandaid from one of the pockets and made your way back to him.

"Good thing I'm prepared, huh?" You smiled, sitting back on the desk, but closer this time, with Spencer immediately holding his hand out to you for you to take gently, opening the bandaid and carefully wrapping it around his finger, forcing yourself to hold back a smile as you raised his hand to your face, placing a gentle kiss on top of the bandaid, leaving a faint lipstick stain on the tan material.

"Better?" you asked sweetly, holding back a smirk at his pink cheeks, the blush spreading to the tips of his ears, and you just couldn't help yourself. "Oh Spencer, are you feeling okay? Your cheeks are really red," you feigned concern as you reached out to press the back of your hand to his cheek, feeling the heat radiating from his face.

"Y-Yeah, fine," he said, his voice cracking as he tried to sound sure of himself and failing as his cheeks became redder at your touch.

"Are you sure, honey?" You asked sweetly, slipping in the petname just to see him gulp and avoid your eyes, wetting his lips nervously as he shifted in his seat.

Spencer couldn't even answer you, completely avoiding looking even close to you as you shifted closer to him, your eyes boring into him as you saw a very faint sheen of sweat lining his temple.

"Am I making you nervous?" You asked in a low tone, quirking your brow at him as you saw his eyes widen a little at your question, his lips parting as he let out a shaky breath, gulping down his nerves as he looked up at you shyly.

"M-Maybe a little," he admitted bashfully, looking away from you again, staring down at his shoes as you felt lust stirring in your stomach at the sight of him so nervous, admitting that you had an effect on him.

"Y'know, when I tell you that you're pretty, I mean it, don't you?" You asked him, looking at him with doe eyes as he looked back at you with a similar expression.

"Y-You do?" He sounded genuinely surprised, as if he didn't believe you.

"Of course I do. I mean not to sound like I'm in love with you or anything, but you're beautiful, Spencer, and I mean that." You spoke softly, standing up to shift closer to him, standing between his legs and leaning on the desk in front of him, forcing him to look up at you as you towered over him.

"T-Thank you," he breathed shyly, moving his hands to rest between his thighs and covering his crotch with his forearms as he looked anywhere but your face.

"Move your hands," you ordered suddenly, Spencer finally looking at you, brows pulled together slightly at your sudden change in behaviour.

"W-What?" He stuttered, gulping as he shifted in his seat, his hands still planted between his parted thighs, licking his lips as you heard the faint sound of his breathing picking up.

"I said, move your hands," you repeated, this time more sternly, pulling your lip between your teeth as you watched his hands twitch, taking a shaky breath before he hesitantly moved his hands to rest on his thighs, dropping his head in slight humiliation that he'd been caught.

"Oh my, I make you more than nervous," you stated in a sultry tone, Spencer letting out a breathy whine just loud enough for you to hear. The sound was all you needed to have you standing up abruptly, moving to place your knee between his thighs, your hands lifting to rest on either side of his neck.

"Can I kiss you, pretty boy?" You asked breathily, your thumb stroking over his pulse, feeling his breath hitch in his throat at your question before he gulped, nodding quickly.

"Use your words," you teased, watching as his tongue darted out to wet his lips, visibly nervous under your gaze.

"P-Please," he spoke under his breath, looking up at you with wide doe eyes as you smiled down at him, wordlessly leaning towards him, stopping just shy of his lips for a moment just to feel him lean towards you slightly to chase your lips before you finally closed the gap, feeling a whine vibrate against your lips.

Spencer's kissing was slightly clumsy and clearly inexperienced, desperately trying to keep up with you as you kissed him with fervour, letting your teeth graze his bottom lip, your hands trailing up from his neck into his hair at the nape of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp as he keened into you, his hips rolling upward, the motion piquing your curiosity, shifting your knee forward to press to his crotch, a moan slipping into your mouth as he bucked his hips again.

"That feel good, handsome?" You pulled away just enough to ask him, your lips brushing his and his hot breath fanning your lips as he panted, his eyes still closed.

"Y-Yeah," he breathed, making you smirk as you pressed your knee harder into his clothed cock, a whimper falling from his swollen lips as he rutted his cock into you, moving his hands to hold your thigh, squeezing your flesh in an attempt to compose himself, pushing himself down to the chair to still his movements.

"Keep going," you husked as you moved to press your lips to his neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses over his pulse, the feeling making him moan as he couldn't help but rut against you, his cheeks flushed at what he was doing.

"W-what if someone-" he stuttered, cutting himself off with a whine as you grazed your teeth on his skin, licking over smooth skin.

"What if?" you said teasingly, your voice low and sultry as you lowered one hand to hold his that was still on your thigh, slowly moving it up and under your skirt. "Touch me," you breathed into his ear, a moan falling from his lips before he gulped, inching his hand higher and higher until he could cup your clothed core, gasping at the heat that radiated from you.

"W-What do I do?" He asked meekly, embarrassed that he didn't know how to touch you properly and that his inexperience only made you want him more.

"Well, first, my underwear need to be out of the picture." You laughed breathily, Spencer blushing and letting out a shaky breath as he used his fingers to move your damp underwear to the side, the fact that he didn't even remove them making you clench around nothing.

"Now touch me." You breathed, biting down on your bottom lip, watching as he gulped before ever so gently pressing his fingertips to your cunt, his middle finger slipping between your folds, resting at your slick entrance, his eyes widening at the feeling, his mouth dropping open slightly.

"Y-You're so...wet," he practically whimpered, not even realising how attractive what he said was, his words making you moan quietly, "inside baby," you breathed, taking his wrist into your hand to guide him, holding his hand where he needed to be before he slowly pushed his middle finger upward, his fingertip slipping into you and making his jaw fall slack as your walls surround his finger.

"God, you've got the perfect fingers for this, baby," you practically moaned, letting your head tip back as you still held his wrist.

"I do?" he asked, his voice slightly whiny as he gazed up at you.

"Mhm, fit so nicely inside me," you murmured absentmindedly, completely forgetting that this wasn't some raunchy dream you were having, your words making him moan low in his throat.

"Curl your finger towards you for me, love," you instructed softly. Spencer immediately followed your exact instructions, curling his middle finger gradually until you let out a quiet gasp, stopping his movements completely.

"D-Did I hurt you?" He asked worriedly, his behaviour and concern making your heart swell.

"N-No baby, no, felt good, k-keep going," you breathed, stroking your thumb over his wrist as you moved the other to rest on his shoulder, balancing yourself so you could move your leg to the outer side of his thigh, spreading your legs for him so he had more access.

"You can add another, baby," you encouraged softly, knowing that he wouldn't do it on his own out of fear of hurting you in any way.

"O-Okay," he breathed, swallowing nervously as he pulled his finger out almost fully, leaving just his fingertip in before he pressed his index finger in beside it, slowly pushing them both in at once, watching your face intently as your jaw fell slack, eyes closed as a breathy moan slipped past your parted lips.

"F-fuck, baby," you mewled as Spencer curled his slender fingers into you on his own accord, his hips rolling into your thigh at the sound of your voice and the feeling of you clenching around his fingers.

"G-Gimme your hand," you asked, holding yours out to him as he placed his free hand in yours with a slightly confused expression that quickly became a completely infatuated, lust-filled expression as you let go of his wrist to hike your skirt up around your waist, exposing the sight of his fingers buried in your cunt.

"O-oh my-" Spencer tried to speak, his words turning into a whimper as you bucked your hips slightly, his fingers pushing in deeper, the sight of them disappearing into you making his cock throb against your leg, hips stuttering against his will.

"J-Just stay right there and make this motion," you explained breathlessly, placing Spencer's thumb on your neglected clit and motioning circles with yours to show him what to do, watching him nod shakily before he made one tentative circle, watching how you reacted, the gasp you let out showing him that it was good, so he repeated the motion again and again until he had a pace going.

"Oh, Spence, g-good baby, so good, c-curl your fingers at the same time for me," you breathed, Spencer immediately doing as you asked, curling both his fingers into you until they were pressed to that soft spot inside you. The way you moaned when he reached it made him realise that spot was what made you react, so he experimented a little, uncurling his fingers before repeating the motion, a louder but still hushed sound falling from your lips as he did.

"Such a quick learner," you mewled as he continued his steady motions, his thumb circling your clit in time with his fingers. Your praise made him blush and rut into your thigh harder than he had before, and your curiosity piqued.

"You like when I praise you? tell you how good you are?" you asked, the way Spencer whimpered and fucked into your thigh again giving you your answer, a smirk tugging at your lips.

"Be a good boy and go faster for me," you instructed, your words of praise making him completely pliant, instantly picking up his pace and making you almost double over as the pleasure shot through you, the motion making your leg slot right between his thighs, leaving no distance between your thigh as his painfully hard length straining against his pants, a pathetic whimper ripped from his throat as his hips bucked desperately into you, this time at a constant pace, Spencer unable to hold back from chasing any kind of friction.

"So pretty fucking my thigh, baby, you like humping my leg like a good boy?" You cooed, bringing your hand to his jaw and letting your thumb stroke over his plush bottom lip, watching as he let his mouth open, as if inviting you in, and you just couldn't deny, letting your thumb slip past his lips and into his warm mouth, clenching around his fingers as he wrapped his beautiful lips around it.

"Oh my, such a good boy," you praised, your voice breathy and low as you felt your orgasm creeping up on you, the way Spencer's fingers consistently curled into you, his thumb never faltering on your clitoral area, his pace matching that of his hips constantly fucking your thigh, his brain going into autopilot as he sucked on your thumb.

"I-I feel- weird," Spencer whimpered around your thumb, just barely audible, but you heard him, his words making you want to coo at him, knowing exactly what the feeling was.

"You're gonna cum, baby boy; it's okay; gonna feel good; just let it happen." You spoke soothingly, pulling your thumb from his mouth and watching as he opened his eyes to look up at you with a doe-like expression, his lips parted and wet as he let out a constant stream of whimpers and moans, his hips stuttering as he desperately fucked your thigh, chasing his orgasm as he brought you to yours.

"F-fuck baby, you're gonna make me cum; keep going; just a little more for mommy." The word slipped out without a thought. You were so caught up in the moment that you didn't even think about it until Spencer let out a choked moan, delivering a particularly hard thrust onto your thigh, your jaw falling slack at what slipped past his lips.

"M-mommy, 'm gonna c-cum," he choked out, letting out little gasps and whimpers as tears spilled from his eyes. He looked utterly gorgeous, completely fucked out, and cumdrunk, so much so that he was calling you mommy and humping your thigh, the whole thing pushing you so close to the edge.

"Oh, baby, so fucking pretty. Gonna cum, you want that? You want mommy to cum on your pretty fingers?" You husked, watching as Spencer nodded mindlessly, clearly not even knowing what he was agreeing to.

"Oh, o-oh, m-mommy! mommy, I can't, I'm-" Spencer stammered, cutting himself off with a choked sob as his hips stilled, cum spurting into his underwear as his whole body tensed, including his hands, his fingers curling into you as far as they'd go, harshly pressing to your sweet spot as his thumb pressed into your clit, the sudden pressure sending you over the edge with a muffled moan, gushing around his fingers as your walls spasmed and thighs trembled.

Spencer continued to shallowly fuck your thigh through his orgasm, little whimpers and whines falling from his lips as he completely soiled his pants, cum seeping through to your thigh and the warm, sticky liquid smearing on your skin.

"Oh, baby, you made such a mess of yourself," you cooed, pouting down at him as you cupped his cheeks, his eyes looking up at you completely dazed as he whimpered.

"You did so well for mommy," you said softly, stroking his soft skin with your thumbs as he pouted, completely fucked out and submissive.

"Okay, baby, slow for me; you can take your fingers out now and we'll get you cleaned up, okay?" You encouraged him sweetly, Spencer nodding as he slowly, like you'd instructed, pulled his fingers out of you, the feeling of his skin dragging against your sensitive walls making you wince slightly.

Once Spencer slipped his fingers fully out of you, he couldn't help but fixate on the slick, shiny liquid that coated them, watching as it created strings between them when he spread them apart, and he just couldn't resist. Your jaw dropped as you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, burying them in his mouth and moaning around them as he tasted you.

"You like how mommy tastes, baby?" You asked, smiling to yourself as you watched him clean every last drop, nodding with his fingers still in his mouth.

"Sticky," he whined once he pulled his fingers from his mouth, shifting in his seat awkwardly. "...and cold," he whined harder, looking up at you with big eyes as if begging you to do something.

"Okay, baby, let's clean you up," you smiled, fixing your soiled underwear and shimmying your skirt back down before planting your foot back on the ground and scanning the room.

"There's no tissues in here," you sighed, furrowing your brows as Spencer whined harder, pressing his thighs together desperately.

"D-Don't like it, mommy," he sniffled, making you turn quickly to see him with teary eyes and pouty lips. He was completely submissive, which was a problem you'd deal with later; right now he needed you.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay; don't cry," you soothed as you cupped his cheeks, watching as his bottom lip quivered slightly. "Mommy's going to think of something," you reassured him, taking another look around the room. An idea springs to mind, and he's not going to like it.

"Okay, you're not going to like it, but it's the only way, okay?" You told him, making sure to talk softly to him so as not to make him think you were being mean. Spencer was sensitive as is, but in this state? He needed the most care.

"O-Okay," he replied hesitantly, curious about what he wouldn't like but also slightly worried.

You let go of his face to turn around and reach over the desk, picking up Spencer's, now stone cold, coffee cup and turning back to him, seeing the dots connect in his mind at what you were planning, the whole idea making him whine but nodding nonetheless, knowing it was the only cover-up that wasn't going to be too suspicious.

"I'm going to spill this on you, and then we're going to go out there; I'll tell them I knocked it over and I feel terrible, and then we're going to go back to the hotel and get you changed, okay?" You explained your plan fully, making sure he was comfortable with the whole thing.

"Okay…" he mumbled, knowing that this was about to be unpleasant and impossibly stickier, but on the upside, the hotel wasn't far, and he got to spend some time alone with you away from work, so it was worth it in the end.

"Sorry, sweetie," you winced as you poured the liquid over his lap, watching as he jumped at the cold feeling seeping into his clothes, feeling terrible about making him uncomfortable.

"Alright, let's go. I don't want you sitting in wet clothes for too long," you said as you quickly placed the cup back on the desk, taking a Spencer hand in yours to help him to his feet and leading him to the door where your bag was, hoisting it onto your shoulder and swinging the door open. Your eyes immediately meeting hotch looking at you from a desk not far from you.

"I spilled Spencer's coffee on him; thank God it was cold, but I feel terrible. I'm gonna give him a ride to the hotel to change; we won't be long," you explained quickly, all but dragging Spencer through the station to the exit, not giving the team time to tease or make jokes.

"How dumb do they think we are?" Derek snorted to the team once you were out of earshot, the others shaking their head and agreeing with him as they continued their work.

@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife @deluluforu @busybeingstrange

(if you wanna be tagged when i post fics just lmk!)

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anadiasmount · 11 months ago

Note

just a small blurb, y/n tries the pheromone perfume and tried to leave the house, but jude won’t let her

IVE SEEN THIS PERFUME GO VIRAL ON TIKTOK!!! 🤭 i didnt proofread so hope it isn’t to bad 😵‍💫

like always, you made plans last minute with girls to go out for dinner and drinks. you weren’t in that much of a mood to go out because you felt the need to stay home and be warm bc of the cold weather. but you also knew you had not seen them in so long and a night out was what you deserved together.

you quickly turned on your getting ready playlist and go ready. you didn’t know whether it was bc it was last minute but as soon as you saw your hair and makeup eating, it was go time. nothing had creased or spread and your blowout just looked so professionally done you felt a bubble of excitement grow in your tummy.

“babe a package came!” jude screamed out running to the room and placing it on your vanity, quickly placing a kiss on your shoulder then running back out to play video games. you opened it quickly, more excitement running through your veins as you saw the viral PH perfume come into view.

it didn’t smell like anything to you, shrugging and putting it on the side as you finished small details, brushing away any extra powder, applying lip gloss and making sure no flyaways were seen. you dressed quickly and placed some jewelry to finish the look. you decided to try the perfume quickly spritzing it on your neck, wrists and and chest, rubbing so the scent would last longer.

jude was in the living room playing whatever video game he was, talking loudly over the headset. he wore a black tight compression shirt and some grey sweats, leaning back on the chair as he stared into the monitor. you grab your boots and zip them up, walking over to where jude was.

“i’m leaving, babe! i’ll be home early so we can watch money heist again,” you say kissing his cheek and walking away. “okay baby-” jude cut himself off, smelling the air, a sweet and flowery scent overtaking his senses. he was drawn to it, like a spell that would be impossible to overturn. he looked over to you, following the scent that lingered in the air.

not only was he drawn by the perfume but also how gorgeous you looked to be going out. you turned around startled when you saw jude facing you with a frown. “come here,” he said motioning with his finger to come closer. you furrowed your brows in confusion but doing as he said.

he leaned down to smell your neck, feeling the tip of his nose brush against your sweet spot making you giggle and push him away. “jude stop! what happened?” you ask with a smile, still slightly confused why he was frowning. “babe, you smell so good. is that a new perfume?” jude asks, grabbing your wrist to smell it.

“yes, that was the package that came in”.

jude couldn’t tell why, but this perfume was different from the other ones you owned. he could smell it from miles away, it smelled rich and heavenly, going perfectly with you and your scent. this perfume didn’t make him feel dizzy or anything that he couldn’t tolerate, it smelled made just for you and only you.

“do you like it? apparently it supposed to fit with your body’s ph. honestly i couldn’t really smell it so i don’t how to take your reaction as a compliment or if i should go take a shower…” you joke, seeing his eyes soften and walk to you. “it smells so good, like really really good y/n… are you really gonna go out?” he muffled hands going around your waist stopping you from going anywhere.

jude didn’t want anyone else smelling you like this. a rush of jealousy waving over him at any man approaching you and complimenting you bc of the scent. if he liked it he knew other people would too. which is why he was making any excuses for you not to go. “sorry jude but i promised i’d go,” you try to let go of his grip but he only pulled you closer.

“you’re not going. not when you smell this good. i don’t want any men falling in love with you because of it,” jude states his ground, watching your eyebrows twist in a “are you serious way?”. “jude it’s just the girls and i, im going and that’s final,” you scoff.

“no you’re not. you’re staying here with me watching money heist like you said. tell the girls to come here,” jude suggested making you laugh. “jude it’s just a perfume,” you say watching his eyes go crazy as he sees you twisting the knob. “uh where are you going?”

“to dinner! why are you being so weird,” you said, stopping your movements, feeling goosebumps as you felt the cold air from outside. “because that perfume will drive others crazy and they will come talk to you,” jude says walking over to shut the door and put his back against it making you laugh again. “you’re not serious right?”

“just stay here with me? it’s cold and you can get sick…”

“i wish i could believe i wish i could, but i haven’t seen them in so long. plus i didn’t get ready for nothing,” you say walking over to him and tip toeing to reach his height. “i’ll come back straight home to my sexy bf who’ll be waiting for me,” you say kissing his lips lovingly.

“yeah there’s no way you’re going now, and leaving me like this, princess.”

#judey thoughts 5️⃣#jude bellingham #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

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Quiet as a Mouse (Azriel x Reader)

Summary// You had been sent by your father to go sift through Azriel’s room in the Court of Nightmares to see if there was anything useful they could use against him. It went against your morals, which was rare in your court, but you also didn’t want to be tortured for the next week so you decided to go in and out quickly. However, the last thing you expected was for the Shadowsinger to be there and catch you right after his shower.

(IT’S BEEN A LONG TIME COMING BUT I HAVEN’T FORGOTTEN THIS ONE LOVES. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I did bc sheesh it’s a hot one. This is like no fluff whatsoever, just pure fucking sex from the Spymaster.)

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, slight dub!con(?), Az gives her a choice between sex and torture so, but reader DEF wants the sex, bondage, pet names, dom!Azriel, sub!reader, Az’s got a lil sadistic side of him, edging, rough sex, shadow play, dark!Azriel, begging, knife play, this is like DARK but SO hot, you have been warned

You had been sent to sift through the Shadowsinger’s room in the Court of Nightmares. It wasn’t that you wanted to, you were terrified of him. No, you were here under threat of torture from your own family.

They were desperate to find some dirt, some stain, about Rhysand and his group to use against them. It was a foolish, stupid plan that you were extremely against but your opinion did not matter to them. The only thing that did was how quiet you could move around and be near undetectable.

Keir was in cahoots with the whole plan and had even given you a pathway to get to the secluded area. Of course, he would reap some of the benefits of whatever you were able to find, no good deed goes without a greedy hand to snatch half of it.

You had been promised that the Shadowsinger would be gone when you arrived, busy with torture or maiming or whatever it is the illusive man did in his spare time. Rhysand and Feyre were busy with Keir in the great hall and seeing as you were as memorable as a vase in a far corner, this plan should be foolproof.

So why were your palms sweating and your heart racing as if you were running against the clock of your death?

“Come on, come on.” You whispered to yourself, trying your best to be quick and neat. The last thing you wanted was for him to suspect someone had been here. “Something. Anything. Please.”

But there was nothing of substance. The drawers were full of clothes and sheaths. The desk in the corner was bare bones. It was almost eerie how clean this room was.

You had been in here for far too long and with one final look around, you decided to throw in the towel. There was nothing here for you to expose. Surely your family would understand, right? They couldn’t kill you.

Just as you were walking across the room to the door, a loud slam reverberated around you. It suddenly got a few degrees warmer and you were so terrified that you felt like you were going to wet yourself.

Steam rolled past, fogging up the mirror slightly that was in front of you. It took everything in your power not to scream as you made eye contact with a very wet and shirtless Illyrian.

His wings were slightly open, water droplets hitting the floor as a white towel hung loosely over his hips. You couldn’t stop your gaze from flicking downwards at his stomach, briefly admiring his beauty before moving back up to his face.

Immediately you were drawn into the mysterious air around him, your eyes captivated by the shadows that were curling around his shoulders and neck. The tattoos that marked his skin were an inky black that paired well with his tan skin.

You tensed when a small smirk graced his face, his head tilting to the side as he studied you.

“Can I help you, little mouse?”

Fuck.

“Yes, I mean, no,” You quickly scrambled for words, sweat forming on your forehead as you slowly backed away from his intimidating form. “I was in the wrong room, I’m so sorry.”

“That’s funny considering this is the only room in this hallway.” He mused, raising an eyebrow as his scarred hands tightened their hold on his towel. “Lie better.”

“I was, I swear.” You gulped, your back hitting the door as your heart nearly leaped out of your chest. A brief thought of it bursting through your ribcage flashed across your mind as you grasped the door handle and turned it. “I’ll just leave.”

You barely got an arm out the door before something dark and heavy wrapped around your waist and yanked you back inside. The scream that ripped out of your throat was quickly smothered as a hand covered your mouth, your eyes widening in terror when Azriel’s face appeared inches from your own.

He had used his shadows to pull you back in and shove you into the wall, the coolness of them making your skin prickle. You could see the sadistic glint in his eyes as he took you in, eyes running unabashedly over your body.

“You know better than to run, mouse.” Azriel hummed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “What were you doing in my room?”

The nausea building in your stomach from your nerves was threatening to turn into vomit as you weighed your options. If you tell him the truth and he spares you, he would go after your family, but if you lied it was sure to be torture from him and you knew the stories did not lie.

“My patience is growing thin. Answer me.” He warned and you mumbled into his hand, taking a deep breath when he removed it so you could speak.

“My father sent me here to find something to use against you, I don’t know what.” You confessed, voice wobbling, as tears sprang in the corner of your eyes. “They told me if I didn’t do it they would torture me, sell me off, and I was scared. Please, please don’t hurt me.”

If you were supposed to feel shame in begging for your life there was none. You would get on your knees and kiss his feet if it meant you didn’t die with a blade in your chest. Azriel stared into your eyes for far too long, trying to see if there was any hint of a lie, and stepped back when he saw no deception.

Your hands caught you as you fell to your knees, head hanging down as you silently thanked the Mother that he let you go. It was a miracle you hadn’t pissed yourself from how close to death you were. You tried to rise but frowned when you found yourself still bound by his shadows, your head snapping up to watch him in confusion.

“Did you think you would get off that easy?” He asked smugly. “You broke into my room, my refuge, and went through my things. Do you not think that warrants a punishment?”

Whatever happiness you had just been feeling came crashing down. You shouldn’t have been so naive in thinking he would just let you go free. Azriel’s entire reputation was built off of torture, pain, and sadism.

The room seemed to be closing in on you as you bit down on your bottom lip. You weren’t going to make it home, you were going to die for something so fucking stupid. This was how it ended.

“Just make it quick.” You said softly, shoulders slumping in defeat. “That’s all I ask.”

Silence was heavy in the air for a few tense seconds before his laughter made you jump. You furrowed your brows at him, shocked and angry that he thought your life was something to laugh at.

“Do you think I am going to kill you? Is that what you consider a punishment?” His hazel eyes were bright with humor as your frown deepened.

“I just thought-”

Without warning you were suddenly lifted by his shadows so that you were at eye level, his lips turned upward in a smirk that made your heart hammer and sex throb. Now is not the time.

“I’m not going to kill you, little mouse. I’ve got a far more…pleasurable idea of torture in mind.” He purred, watching as your eyes immediately dropped to the growing erection that his towel was barely concealing. “I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, can’t think, can’t do anything besides say, ‘yes sir’.”

Your nostrils flared as he snaked a hand through your hair and grabbed the base of your neck, his lips brushing against your own. The scent of arousal was thick as you suppressed a moan. He had just gone from threatening your life to wanting to wreck you in seconds, your mind trying to play catch up.

“You will be bound, gagged, and used for my pleasure. That’s your punishment…if you want it.” Azriel shrugged, his jaw tensing. “Or I could turn you into your High Lord and he can decide. Which would you rather do?”

“I…” Your voice was airy as you slowly got high on his scent, logic walking out the door as you swallowed thickly. “I want the first one.”

“Which one? I want you to say it.” He growled, his grip on your hair tightening painfully.

“I want you to, to fuck me, sir.” You blushed, not used to using such filthy language. “To bound me and gag me and use me, as you said.”

Azriel’s smile turned feral as his shadows let you go, his hands catching you before you could fall. You were sure there would be bruises from his grip as he whispered, “You asked for it, little mouse.”

Before you could even ready yourself his lips were on yours, his mouth hot and demanding as you bent to his whim. One of his hands was digging into your upper arm while the other grabbed the base of your neck, holding you still so he could dominate you.

His tongue mingled with your own as you closed your eyes and tried to hold yourself together. You were still shaking from fear but slowly your panties were growing more and more damp from how good he smelled and tasted. No male in the Court of Nightmares had ever made you this wet this quickly.

You sneakily tried to move your hand to palm his cock through the towel but his shadows caught you before you could even touch him, the cool mist tightening around your wrists until you whimpered in pain. Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, snapping his fingers and pointing at the ground.

Before you could register his command the shadows already forced you into the position he wanted, your knees aching when they hit the floor as your hands were moved behind your back and kept together at an uncomfortable angle.

“You must be mad if you think you have any control in this bedroom.” Azriel murmured as he brushed his scarred knuckles against your cheek softly, smirking when you leaned into the touch. In a flash he gripped your hair into a makeshift ponytail, enjoying the way you winced then gasped as he dropped the towel. “I own you. You do as I say when I say it. Every flinch of pain, every whimper of pleasure, it’s mine You’re mine. Now open.”

The sight of his cock standing proudly in front of you, the skin the same color as the rest of him with a dark pink head that was already wet from his excitement, made you drool. It was long, longer than you had ever had, with a nice girth to it that promised you the fuck of your life. You had barely registered his words until he grasped it in his hands and slapped it against your mouth roughly, smearing the precum on your lips until you opened wide.

Azriel wasted no time in shoving it down your throat, using your hair as leverage to move you back and forth until he was fucking your mouth. There was no gentle build-up, no praises. It was just raw and hard, his balls slapping against your chin as you gagged and slobbered over him.

“Fuck, that’s it, little mouse. Take it all the way down.” He growled, head thrown back in utter bliss as you were forced to take everything he gave you. Tears were wetting your cheeks from both the brutality of his thrusts and the angle of your hands.

But this was also the hottest thing you had ever experienced…and he was only getting started.

You were squirming from side to side in need, trying to get any friction you could to curb the ache deep in your sex. Your tongue swirled around his dick whenever he stilled long enough for you to do so, tasting the saltiness of him and feeling pride when he sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

His wings flared as he started to draw closer to his peak, your throat sore and scalp numb from how violent he was treating you. The sounds coming out of you were something you would hear in a brothel, spit dripping down your chin as you tried to keep your eyes on his face.

He was using you as his fucktoy, purely for his pleasure, and you were happy to let him. This started as a way out of getting your throat slit but as the minutes passed on he had you drunk off of him and he hadn’t even touched you yet.

“Mm, shit,” He panted, hazel eyes glowing in the dark of the room as his thrusts started to grow sloppy. “You’re gonna drink every last drop of what I give you, understand? I don’t want any spilling out.”

“Mmph!” You tried to nod, barely able to make a sound as Azriel growled low in his throat as he began to spurt into your mouth. It was a lot, more than you expected, but you drank it down just as he asked. The taste was tangy, a mix you couldn’t quite place but you weren’t complaining about.

He held you still for a few moments after he was done, his cock twitching back to life as you struggled to breathe. You felt your binds vanish at the same time he pulled out of your throat, your hands hitting the floor as you coughed violently and tried to gulp down any air you could.

It was a short-lived respite however as he hoisted you up and pushed you roughly onto his bed. The covers were midnight black and soft as velvet, the material feeling heavenly underneath your fingers as you grasped onto it when he appeared above you in a flash.

“I think you are overdressed.” He smiled roguishly, moving away from you for a moment before reappearing with his blade. Your heart skipped a beat as he pressed the tip against your throat, fear and adrenaline making your head spin. “This should help.”

The dagger sliced through your clothing like it was better. There was little resistance and in the back of your mind, you thought about how easy it would be for him to slice you into ribbons. Your breath hitched when he arrived at your pants, choosing instead to roll them off himself.

You were now naked on the bed save for your panties, your nipples hardening underneath his stare. He was giving nothing away and you would’ve thought you weren’t affecting him except for the fact his dick was once again hard. Azriel licked his lips and grabbed his blade once more, watching you with a sadistic glint in his eyes as he hooked the top of your panties with the edge of it.

A small whimper of fear left your throat, your eyes closing as you felt him tug. One wrong move and he would mutilate you. He gave an airy laugh at your reaction, raising an eyebrow as he kept the dagger close to your cunt even after discarding your panties.

“Are you scared, little mouse?” Azriel asked, watching as your eyes peeked open at him. He twirled the blade between his fingers, contemplating, before looking back at you. “Are you?”

“No…”

“Don’t lie to me. I already warned you once.”

Your hands trembled as you gave him a small nod, eyes widening when he took the hilt of his dagger and dragged it down your sex. The cool metal and leather gave you a unique sensation that made you involuntarily buck your hips, the friction giving you exactly what you’d been craving since this whole thing had begun.

“Careful, careful, little mouse.” He warned as he started to rub small circles over your clit. The sheets underneath you were quickly becoming wet from your arousal as you got off on the feeling of lust and fear. “One wrong move and this could go a completely different way.”

“P-Please,” You whispered, your eyes closing as you tried your best to keep your hips still. “I need it, I’ve been so good.”

He scoffed and pulled away, ignoring your cry of frustration. “You broke into my room, looking for something to use against me, and you think you deserve any pleasure?”

You knew he had a point but you also knew you really, really, wanted to cum. Azriel must have thought that you looked a mess because he returned the blade to your cunt within a few seconds except he went lower, and lower, until it was pushing against your aching hole.

Before you could rise up you felt his shadows return and hold your arms down just as he shoved the entire leather hilt into your pussy, the cool metal of the actual blade barely brushing against your outer sex. You didn’t know whether you should try to get away or fully submit that this was what you wanted, what you craved, but luckily for you, that choice was already being made for you.

Azriel had taken note of how desperate you were being, the way you tried to hump the floor earlier when you were blowing him, and also how you ground against the bottom of his dagger. It didn’t take much to make you a mewling mess and that did wonders for his ego.

“You are going to stay perfectly still.” He ordered you, lazily thrusting it in and out of you. It was making a wet squelching sound that made your ears go hot in embarrassment. “If you move at all this will cut you and I won’t apologize.”

“Azriel…” You moaned, your brain fuzzy as your tried to listen to his instruction. He smirked and picked up the pace, watching as you thrashed your head left and right. “I can’t do it, I can’t.”

“You can and you will.” His voice was dripping with authority and desire as he started to rub your clit with two fingers, matching the dagger movements which had you seeing white. You could feel your pussy clenching around it, wishing it was his cock instead, and before you could stop yourself you raised your hips.

The growl he let out in warning made your eyes snap open, his forearm coming down to pin you down so that you couldn’t move. You bit down on your lip, the pleasure growing to be too much, before you couldn’t contain your cries anymore.

“Let me cum, please! Please, Azriel! I’ll be good I swear! I can listen, I can be a good girl.” You rambled, your toes curling as your orgasm threatened to consume you entirely. He was making sure to keep you on the edge, making you toe the line of pleasure and pain, and was hoping you would break entirely.

“Do you think good girls get off on being fucked like this? Hm? Do you think good girls moan like whores while being fucked with a blade?” Azriel taunted, his lips right by your ear as your cries increased in volume. “You’re not a good girl, mouse, you’re a dirty whore. You’re my dirty whore.”

“No, no, I’m a good-” You tried to protest but he gave a particularly hard thrust into your cunt, the hilt hitting that spongy spot inside of you.

“Say it. Say it and you can cum.” He promised, grinning as you immediately caved to his wishes.

“I’m a dirty whore.” You sobbed brokenly, body flushed and sweaty from how long he had kept you on the edge. Your thighs were shaking with how badly you wanted to cum. “I’m, I’m,” You panted between words. “I’m your dirty whore, Azriel. Please.”

The last please sounded like it came from someone begging for their life and honestly, you felt like you were. You felt like if you didn’t cum in the next ten seconds you would die. Azriel gazed at you for a moment, his hand stalling, before he kissed you fiercely and fucked that blade into you at lightning speed.

Your orgasm hit you fast and hard, stealing the breath from your very lungs as you opened your mouth to scream only for his own to swallow them. Between his shadows and his arm across your stomach you were unable to move, forced to let the waves of ecstacy break your very foundation as your pussy spasmed around the hilt.

He pulled away from the kiss and tore his dagger from your still spasming cunt, his teeth bared in a feral way as he gripped his cock tightly and slapped against you. You were still coming down from your high, barely recgonzing the change in position until he filled you up in one smooth thrust of his hips.

“Fuck!” You yelped, your walls sensitive as he fucked you like a beast. His wings were now fully extended, covering the two of you in a warm cocoon, before he surged forward and started attacking your neck with bites and harsh kisses. “Azriel, please, it’s too much!”

“You can take all of me, little mouse. This cunt was made for me.” He groaned into your neck, one of his hands coming up to start fiddling with your bundle of nerves. “Damn you’re so tight, so fucking tight and wet for me.”

You knew he was trying to force you into another orgasm but you were still recovering from your first one. Between that, the fear of the night, and how shocked you were at how much you enjoyed him fucking you with his dagger, you didn’t know if you had another one for him. It felt like you were going to burst into a million stars.

But Azriel knew you could and even if you wouldn’t…he would make sure you did so he could feel you explode around him. He would tear the world apart to feel it.

His dick was hot inside of you and just the right length to hit you g-spot repeatedly, taking you to a whole other universe of pleasure combined with his calloused fingers on your clit. Pain and pleasure were dancing with each other deep in your soul as you started to feel that familiar tingle rise up once more.

“I can feel you clenching around me. I know how bad you want this, how good of a dirty whore you want to be for me.” He grunted, his pupils blown wide as he pinched your cheeks between his fingers until your mouth was forced open. “You want it so bad, don’t you? Look at how much of a wreck you are, how fucked out you look right now.”

“Ah, ah, ple-ah!” You tried to talk but it was all garbled together from the hold he had on your face. You didn’t even know what you were begging for anymore but he did. He knew exactly what you needed.

Azriel’s face twisted in bliss as his balls tightened. He was riding that wave, his wings practically vibrating, and all he needed was that last push of you coming undone around him. You gasped when he let go of your face only to scream when he buried his head in your neck and bit down. The pain of it, of his canines piercing your skin, along with the rhythmic fucking of your cunt sent you to the heavens.

Your entire body tightened up before releasing in a full body shudder, your head thrown back in pleasure as you felt yourself squirt around his cock. Azriel barely lasted the first spasm of your pussy before spilling himself inside of you, his fingers digging into your skin so hard that bruises immediately appeared.

The world around you faded into darkness as you succumbed to the numbing rapture he had given you. You lost track of time and space, your eyes closed as you felt him continung to fuck you even as his cock softened. He slowly rose up and folded his wings, smirking as he reveled in his work.

His cum was dripping out of your abused hole, the sheets and his thighs soaked from your cum, while your face was wistful. It was probably the best fuck of his life, he couldn’t lie, and as he watched you he felt his cock stirring once more.

Azriel couldn’t get enough of you.

Two arms wrapped underneath your armpits and lifted you up until you were resting against his warm chest, whispering praises as you floated back into your body. You blearily blinked up at him, watching as he realized you were back before his lips turned up in a smile.

“I think it’s time for the reinforcement part of the punishment, little mouse.”

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h4ndwr1tten · 1 year ago

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HI omg this has been eating away at me,, could i request an angsty (but with a happy ending) fic where the reader has been in love with kento ever since they were classmates at juju high and she always flirts with him but he rejects her every time up until the present day at shibuya where she saves his life by using a technique that gives him her life force and allows him to regenerate ig or take the blow of the hit and that leaves her on the brink kf death and kento realizes how much he's actually been in love with her the whole time and somehow she survives and he literally g r o v e l s and confesses and UGH this is too long i'm sorry but feel free to change some details to your convenience, TYSMM 🫶🫶🫶

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞.

characters — nanami kento x reader

note — i'm genuinely sorry i dont post requests on time :( anyways i didn't know how to end it so if i have time to i might rewrite it? i'm just trying to get this out bc i feel bad for leaving anon hanging.. (CORNY AHH TITLE)

cw — anxiousness, unrequited love (or so it seems) in the first half, violence kinda?, reader gets hurt and ends up in the hospital, kissing on the hand, confession ish, shitty ending might rewrite, not proofread. lmk if i missed any.

synopsis — you've gone through years and years confessing your feelings to kento, but this mission might be the scariest thing you've gone through. even for kento.

goosebumps covered your skin as worry churns in your stomach. on every other mission, you had felt worry and fear regarding the mission, but it was a normal thing that almost every other sorcerer experienced. those feelings, however, weren't the nagging, unrelenting ones you were feeling right now.

no, this was a gut feeling. of what, you couldn't decide. you knew it was a gut feeling because of the way it couldn't be diminished through encouragement and reassurance, and the way it came crawling back to you every time you were able to get your mind off of it. despite knowing you weren't going to be alone in this mission, you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable and fearful for not just yourself, but everyone involved as well.

especially kento.

kento was going on this mission, alongside a few other sorcerers, and the thought of going into this with you provided some solace for your troubles. you felt safe with him, you always have.

ever since your high school days as a student at jujutsu high, you've always been drawn to kento. he was one first friends there, and despite not being exactly best friends, you always cherished his company.

that is until a year later, you began seeing him in a different light, one that was more romantic than platonic. you started noticing the little details that made kento, kento. how he liked to keep his blond hair swept to his right. how he would subconsciously hum to himself when he was focused on something. how he always made room for something sweet after dinner. you began to crave his presence more than you usually did. you started seeking him out in classes and in crowds. you tried your best to impress him, whether it be working hard in class, giving your all during practice, or fighting hard on a mission. you even began flirting with him, starting off subtle before becoming more obvious. you did everything you could think of just so he could see you the way you saw him.

you remember the first time he rejected you. you remember how at first, you were in denial because you really thought you had a chance. you cried to shoko about it, and somehow satoru and suguru as well (they were eavesdropping and jumped into the conversation). then you cried more by yourself, eventually falling into a deep slumber after exhausting yourself.

~~~

"hi ken!" you greeted your friend, a little more eager than usual.

you were up last night, convincing yourself that it was time to confess your feelings and that he would feel the same, or at least give you a chance. you had been keeping your feelings to yourself for a little over a month now, and you felt like you couldn't wait any longer.

now here you were, standing in front of the teen you had a massive crush on, who was sitting on a bench under a tree, with a book in his hand and his favorite sandwich lying on the space next to him.

kento sent you a small smile in acknowledgement, before slightly scooting to the side as if to make room for you.

you blushed at the gesture then took a seat on the bench, watching kento as he flipped a page in his book.

"what're you reading?" you ask. to be honest, you weren't really interested in his book. you just wanted to start a conversation before confessing your feelings for him.

"a biography," he answered briefly.

"about who?"

"some warrior."

then, setting the book down, kento turned to you with a curious look on his face. "did you need something, y/n?"

his amber eyes found yours and a sudden wave of nerves came over you. where had your determination and confidence gone? your heart probably grabbed them both and chucked it out of your body and across the nation. then its beating increased, as if taunting you for being so confident.

"um," you started slowly, breaking the eye contact and looking down at your lap. "i... you..."

"take your time," kento hummed. was it obvious how anxious you became, or was he just that good at reading people?

you began fidgeting with the hem of your skirt while trying to find the right words. a simple 'i like you' wouldn't suffice, because what you felt seemed stronger than just a 'like'. this was so much easier in your head. with a deep breath to prepare you and shifting your gaze back to him, you finally spoke.

"nanamikentoihavefeelingsforyou."

"huh?"

"i have... feelings for you," you spoke more slowly this time.

his brow quirked up, and as he opened his mouth to respond, you cut him off.

"i like you."

so much for not saying 'i like you'.

"oh."

oh? what oh? was that a good oh or a bad oh? you thought to yourself. kento grew silent and looked down at the grass, and his silence worsened your nerves. you were squeezing the end bit of your skirt now, while your mind was playing every other scenario you could have been in right now.

"kento?" his name leaving your mouth in a barely there whisper.

he turned back to you with pink cheeks and ears. you would've thought he was flattered if it wasn't for what he said next.

"i'm sorry, y/n. if you mean romantic feelings, and you like me in that sense, i don't feel the same way."

the whole world stopped. the distant chatter and bird calls faded into silence. the rise and fall of your chest paused as you felt yourself stop breathing. your cramped fingers finally stilled a against your skirt. your head kept replaying those words again and again, and your shattered heart dropped to your stomach, bringing a sick feeling with it.

"oh," you whispered. "i see."

you couldn't bare to be in this area anymore, or anywhere near kento. you were so sure that he'd at least want to see where things go with you. had you become so delusional and forgotten to think that being rejected was the other half of all possible outcomes?

a gentle hand then laid on your shoulder, while a face came into your peripherals. you couldn't bring yourself to look at him, knowing it would only bring you more shame.

"but we can still remain friends. it won't be awkward, to me at least," kento suggested politely and, what he might've thought, comfortingly.

but it only worsened your humiliation. he just had to use that term, that wretched word. as if his rejection wasn't enough, he really thought it was a good idea to say the damned f-word after confessing he didn't feel the same.

you knew kento only had good intentions in mind when he said it, and you understood that he never meant to hurt you with his words. but that simple sentence made it clear to you that that was all he saw you as.

a friend.

you could feel your throat closing up, your nose burning, and your eyes beginning to prick. kento already felt bad, it was clear, and you didn't want to make him feel worse. so you decided that it was time to leave, and maybe never leave your bed again.

"okay, well," you sniffed, wiping a stray tear and standing up, "thank you for being honest and telling me how you feel."

upon seeing your crestfallen face, kento frowned. "y/n, i'm sorry—"

"no, don't apologize. i understand," you smiled sadly.

after mumbling a broken and half-hearted 'have a wonderful evening', you left the bench under the tree and cried the rest of the day.

~~~

despite being rejected and so, so hurt, you quickly came to realize that your feelings weren't fading any time soon. they continued to linger, like someone who couldn't take a hint and conversing with another who just wanted to get through the day. you yourself got the hint, the message—kento didn't reciprocate your feelings. but your heart didn't quite get the memo, as it refused to let go of the man.

over time, your feelings grew stronger and so did the urge to confess once again. so you confessed, and once again, you were rejected. this time, however, you cried a little less. moved on a little quicker. and you tried again.

this grew into a cycle, an unhealthy one, for the rest of your high school years. it was predictable and pathetic, but with feelings for kento as strong as yours? you were determined to get him to see you as more than just his good friend, hell, to even go out on at least one date.

and now, present times, nothing had changed. you were still in love with nanami kento and he... well, he was still not in love. you were still confessing and he was still rejecting. you might've seemed desperate, but your feelings never went away and kento never ended his friendship with you, so it had to mean something. right?

right now, however, your feelings were the least of your worries. your brows were furrowed, your bottom lip was tucked in between your teeth, and you were wringing your wrists over and over. despite going on this mission with the man you trusted above all, you felt that things wouldn't turn out the way they should.

"are you alright, y/n?" kento quietly asked you, having noticed your silence and body language.

"hm? oh, yeah. i'm just," you paused, then whispered, "scared."

you felt kento's hand gently lay on your shoulder, feeling his eyes on your own as he spoke, "it's going to be okay. i'll be there with you the entire time, and i will do my best to keep you safe and unharmed."

smiling up at him, you nodded and thanked him. he nodded once back, then led you two out the door and onto the mission.

you could barely function at this point. your vision was clouded with dark fuzzy spots, you could barely move your sore and numb limbs, your ears were ringing as though an alarm were blaring in them. your head was throbbing as blood trickled down your face from the gash above your brow, and your heart was racing faster than it ever had before.

the mission had gone horribly wrong; the curse was far more dangerous and powerful than expected. it could birth weaker clones that were still enough to cause damage, and the only way to stop the multiplication was to eliminate the main curse.

which had set its dark, blood lusted eyes on you for the past half hour. and in that time, you felt your life flashing before your eyes. you didn't know where kento had gone—the last you saw of him was taking on an army of the multiples.

your delayed movements weren't helping much. all your energy had been depleted whilst trying to fight survive the curse, making it almost impossible to use your cursed technique. if you thought fighting was exhausting, then trying to stay conscious felt much worse.

as you tried (and failed) to focus on executing technique, the curse came out of nowhere and violently hurled you into a nearby destroyed building. you broke through the remains of a wall, the only thing breaking your fall being a mound of ash and dust. chunks of the wall surrounded you, while a larger portion lay on the rest of your body below your shoulders. .

"y/n!"

despite the ringing and your heart thrumming in your ears, you could hear his distant yell for you. he must have finally gotten rid of the multiples when the main was focused on you, or held them off long enough to find you. whatever he did, though, you couldn't focus on right now. all you could really think of was the excruciating pain and fear you were experiencing.

the impact from you hitting the wall had knocked the wind out of you and the wall fragment on your chest made things even worse. your lungs felt tight on the inside, while they were being crushed on the outside. you could barely get in any air, the most you could take in being a mere gasp. you were beginning to panic now. were you going to die? is this how you were going out, because you were unable to defeat a curse? where was kento?

you didn't realize it but tears had begun to fall from your eyes. a reaction caused by the emotions and physical pain you were overwhelmed with. you were scared, so fucking terrified to meet your inevitable end.

what you also didn't know was that kento was fighting his ass off trying to murder the curse. it felt a bit easier because of all the anger he was feeling towards the creature for absolutely wrecking you. all rationality left his body the moment he saw you be carelessly thrown like a rag doll, and now he found himself brutally attacking the curse with no remorse. even satoru was shocked at his behavior, as he thought this curse would need more than one person to defeat it.

it took a few minutes longer, but kento had defeated the curse. he had sliced up the lower body and saved the stupid, ugly head for last, cutting it in half through the eyes and another half through the side. and in exactly 5 seconds, the curse had let out a final whine before it's dismembered body and quartered head disintegrated into pools of foul-smelling acid, but kento could care less about it.

he sprinted to where you were laying, not caring that satoru was calling after him, not caring that civilians were hurt or scared. you were the only thing on his mind and his body burned with the sickening fear that you were—

no, he couldn't bare to think of it. you were strong, persistent, determined. you didn't give up that easily, he would know. kento knew you would put up a fight, and a good one at that, before you'd let death win over and welcome you. but the question was, how long did until that fight was over?

luckily enough, kento could see your dust-covered body underneath the rubble. your skin was losing its color quickly and he could see you trembling, hear you crying fearfully and painfully calling for help. he rushed to your side, immediately but gently lifting the broken debris off your frail body.

"k-kento," you wheezed, tears pouring out of your eyes and leaving trails through the dust. "i can't—i can't b-breathe, it.. hurts."

kento's hands were shaking violently, panic settling in and his mind wondering darker thoughts. with one hand, he gently cupped your face and looked into your glossy eyes.

"it's okay, y/n. everything will be okay, i'm going to get you out of here, and we'll get you help, i promise. just stay calm for me, okay?"

his reassurance was enough to quell the some of the anxiety gnawing at your insides. despite trembling badly, kento hastily continued to uncover your body from the wall. the larger piece took more effort, and though his hands were burning an angry red, kento continued to lift and push, then threw it somewhere away from you.

kento felt sick at the sight of your battered frame. your natural skin color was barely visible as bruises covered almost the entirety of your body. cuts and gashes so deep they would scar marked your torso, and blood was seeping out through them. he was a strong man who'd seen enough gore to make even the coldest people faint, but seeing you in this condition made his eyes sting and burn.

"kento," you sobbed, the pain becoming too much to bear.

not wasting anymore time, kento gently scooped you into his arms, but despite his best efforts, the winces and cries you let out let him know that even the slightest touch hurt like hell. he began to speed walk to satoru, yelling out for the man while trying not to bounce you too much.

his heart was racing faster than it ever had before. a kind of fear he had never felt was consuming him, tightening around his entire body and squeezing his lungs. he could barely breathe, barely think properly.

meanwhile, you could slowly feel yourself begin to drift out of consciousness. was this death opening its gates to you? welcoming you in the worst way possible, having the life leave your body in the arms of the man you were in love with? everything began to feel numb. you weren't crying anymore. you were feeling a little sleepy.

"y/n, don't you dare close your eyes!"

kento's loud and firm voice abruptly knocked some consciousness into you, keeping you awake for a little longer. he gave you a gentle squeeze on your arm, a whine escaping you at the ache.

"i'm so sorry, i don't want to hurt you. we're going to get you help, alright? satoru!"

you couldn't process what happened after that, as the ringing in your ears returned. your vision became fuzzy, but the last thing you remember was a mess of snowy hair, teary hazel eyes, and the world around you spinning.

you fell asleep.

the sound of steady beeps sounded throughout the area you were in. consciousness slowly making its way back into your body.

you were tired, so exhausted. you just wanted to sleep for a month, but as memories began to flood your mind, the desire to sleep seemed harder to achieve.

the last thing you recall happening was kento pulling you out of the remains of a building, carrying you bridal style away from where you had laid, and satoru placing a hand on both you and kento. anything after that, you had no recollection of.

the incessant beep coming from your left prompted you to open your eyes. you squinted right away, your pupils slowly adjusting to the change of brightness. above you were fluorescent lights and around you were clean, white walls. the room had little to no decoration or color and it felt sterile. physical feeling had come back to you, and you felt your body wrapped in thin sheets, laid on a firm mattress. tubes ran up and down your arms and you could feel them underneath the gown you found yourself in.

you hadn't taken too long to figure out that you were in a hospital room. what you didn't realize right away was the blond man sitting next to your bed, his head buried in one arm and the other holding your hand. he wasn't in his usual blue dress shirt and slacks. instead, he was in a plain black tee and sweats. you figured he must have changed during the time you were unconscious, which you still had yet to find out.

your mind was running slower than ever today, because it had just clicked that nanami kento was holding your hand. he was the last person you saw when you passed out and the first person you see when you awoke. had kento been here by your side the entire time?

wanting to see more of him, you shifted your weight onto your elbows, trying to prop yourself up and painfully failing. sharp stabbing-like sensation ran through your right shoulder, a burning one across your left arm, and your back felt stiff and extremely sore.

a loud wince involuntarily escaped your lips, tears rushing to your eyes at the overwhelming aches. immediately, kento woke and snapped his head, looking confused for a second, then realizing what was happening next.

"heyheyhey, y/n, don't move too much. you're still recovering, so just lie down, alright?"

he had stood from his seat and helped slowly lower your body back into the bed. he held you so firmly yet so gently as if not to hurt you or you'd break. he then pulled the thin sheets over your lap to keep you warm, then adjusted the bed so that you were slightly sitting up with support.

then, carefully cupping your face, he wiped a stray tear with his thumb, then lightly stroked across your cheek. his eyes were so full of concern as he scanned your entire face, as if making sure you were really here. the emotion radiating off of him and the way he held you with such delicacy made you feel so safe and cared for.

"how are you feeling?" kento whispered, brows slightly furrowed.

"it hurts," you whispered in response. a frown crossed kento's face and he genuinely looked so broken to know you were in great pain.

"i'm so, so sorry, y/n," kento apologized, breaking eye contact and bowing his head, almost shamefully. "i should have been there, by your side. i should've just let gojo take care of the clones, hell, the actual curse itself. i should have been there—"

"kento," you cut him off. you couldn't handle hearing him blame himself for your near-death experience. he couldn't have saved you while defending himself, and if there was a choice to be made, you would've rather he lived.

"please... don't think this was your fault," you requested, voice raspy from not talking and the incident. "it was not your fault the curse decided to come after me. it was not your fault i wasn't strong enough to fight it alone—"

"but that's the thing, y/n," kento argued. "you couldn't have taken that thing on alone. i should have been there to aid you and help take it down."

in an attempt to lighten the mood, you exhaled a laugh through your nose and joked, "what, you don't think i'm strong enough to fight a special-grade?"

kento gave you a pointed look, unamused at your quip. you smiled apologetically back before looking away from him, any trace of humor leaving your face.

"it's not that i don't think you're strong enough," he sighed. "i feel like i let you down."

"i should have stayed by your side. i shouldn't have let us get separated, i should have followed you, but i didn't. and now, look where we are."

he gestures to your frail figure, gently holding your arm and avoiding your eyes out of shame. boldly, you reached for his hand held it in both of yours, the action bringing his eyes to your own.

"kento, this wasn't your fault. i mean it. don't say anything of it again, or i'll purposely get your orders wrong when i'm bringing lunch. you were trying to save yourself, as was i. maybe i could have used some help, but that only means i need to improve my technique and combat. which also means, you could help me with that. maybe i could have died, but i'm here now, aren't i?" you rambled, not bothering to stop when kento opened his mouth to rebut. "let's not dwell on what's already happened and move forward, please?"

he fell silent, pressing his lips together in a thin line. it seemed as though there was more he wanted to say, and you knew there was, but this conversation would never end—he wouldn't be relieved of his guilt.

a sigh passed through kento's lips, more pigmented after pressing them together tightly. he nodded and as he rubbed gentle circles onto the top of your hand, he whispered an agreement.

you smiled at him, squeezing his hand to reassure him. kento kept wordless for another minute, head hung low and eyes shut. it was visible to anyone that his guilt was swallowing him whole, but he was fighting it for you. he covered your hand with his other, both hands now encasing your own. taking you by surprise, kento brought your hand up to his lips and placed the gentlest lingering kiss atop the skin. his lips, so soft and so warm, left a light buzz on the spot they laid on, and one throughout your body.

"when everything gets cleared up—your health, the reports—i'm taking you out."

what?

"seeing you hurt and in this state made me come to my senses. it confirmed something i had held back for so long, and made me realize that i can't wait."

"kento... what are you saying?" you mumbled slowly, confusion evident in every word.

he sighs, treading carefully. it's clear he's figuring out the right words to say, how to express how he's feeling.

"i'm saying that... in our line of work, developing close bonds with people can be dangerous. we can never be too sure, we can never be too close to someone because in the blink of an eye, it might be gone. what we do is dangerous. but, i think that not taking a chance is even more dangerous."

he sighs shakily, "and i am guilty of not realizing this sooner. but fate seems to be on my side, because even if i don't take them, chances keep coming back to me. and i think now, i'm ready to take it."

kento kisses your hand and brings his eyes to yours, finally declaring,

"i'm ready to take this chance with you."

and you smile, nodding as fireworks go off throughout your being.

after all these years, he finally likes you back.

note — sorry for the corny ending, i just needed to get the request done 😭 and sincerest apologized to the anon who requested, i really have no excuse other than writers block and busy schedules :(

m. list

#.h4ndwr1tten #nanami kento #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #nanami angst #nanami fluff

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shima-draws · 1 year ago

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Okay so a few things about the ending to the DLC. Spoilers below obviously

-Really REALLY disappointed they didn’t go with the whole toxic possession arc thing with Kieran and the new mythical (Pecharunt?) TO BE FAIR that was more of a fan theory than anything but it was one that made a lot of sense and had a lot of evidence to back it up. I guess I got too attached to the idea and was inevitably let down when the game didn’t go in that direction. Still it would have made more sense to give that extra edge as to why Kieran’s treating everyone so awfully,, and having him finally break free of that control during the final fight VS Terapagos would have been SO sick. Either that or before we even get to Terapagos Carmine calls Kieran out and that’s when he finally fucking explodes and rages and vents about his inferiority complex—and THAT is what summons Pecharunt, those negative feelings that it probably feeds off of or smth idk. Then we’d get a split second of Kieran finally being back in control and begging for help. And then Carmine realizing her brother has been under the influence of this Pokemon the entire time and. Okay I’m getting off track into AU territory now lmao sorry moving on

-Switching back to the Terapagos fight, I really enjoyed it! It wasn’t too long of a fight to be drawn out, but it was just long enough that it didn’t feel anticlimactic (also the MUSIC? STELLAR. Pun intended). ALSO ARGHFHH the five stages of grief Kieran goes through in that fight to finally accepting that he’s been going about this the wrong way and has been an awful friend and the way the LIGHT COMES BACK INTO HIS EYES I ALMOST CRIED. This is 10000x more emotional and powerful if you choose to bring Ogerpon with you and fight with her bc that really just. Hammers in the fact that despite all the bad blood and bitterness, Kieran still chooses to fight alongside you and the Pokemon he coveted so much…AND he even processes things enough to fully let go of all his hatred and anger and allows you to catch Terapagos because he KNOWS you’ll take good care of it and after all this time he still trusts you even though he’d probably hate to admit it. #GOOD WRITING

-Something really scary I realized. Kieran brought a Master Ball with him to catch Terapagos. 1. Where did homie even get that. 2. The fact that he was READY and didn’t even give Terapagos a chance to react, that he was essentially catching it against its will (which probably led to its power going out of control), that he was enforcing his own twisted desires and beliefs onto it and not considering its feelings (sound familiar? Looks at Ogerpon). BOY. 3. We’ve only ever seen ONE other person use Master Balls in SV. The AI Professor. I don’t know if this is significant in any way but if the Pecharunt theory WAS true that would make them so so similar and that’s eerie to me. Two characters controlled by something greater than them that they can’t fight…can you imagine how INSANE the dynamics would be listen to me

-Another thing I was kinda disappointed about was Briar? I guess I was just picking up on the vibes that she was actually a villain and would try to steal Terapagos from the player, but I probably gave Nintendo too much credit on that one lol. I do like that she’s not inherently evil, she’s just too absorbed and obsessed with her research to really pay attention to what’s going on around her. BUT. They should have pushed that WAY further. Either commit and do the full villain arc where she snatches Terapagos from Kieran right after he catches it to use it for her own purposes, or pressure him into Terastallizing it so much that it makes him uncomfortable. I want to see Lusamine levels of unhinged obsession. What she had was just a little bit too excited about Area Zero, not a full blown unhealthy and dangerous thing that puts everyone around her in danger.

-Following up on that. Drayton. I kept expecting him to also go villain arc IDK LOL I guess I want everyone to be gay do crime in this DLC 😂 But I seriously kept thinking he was just using the player to knock Kieran off his throne so he could take it right back from us. But no he actually genuinely cared about Kieran and kept pressuring us to beat the Elite Four so WE could knock some sense into him since Drayton wasn’t strong enough to do it himself. Which is a very sweet sentiment, I think :’) But am I the only one who was like bro calm down right after the fight where he was getting up in Kieran’s face and calling him ex-champion…..either he’s way too honest and doesn’t realize he was being cruel OR he was doing it on purpose to be a silly goober (but everyone else was like DUDE. LOW blow.)

-I still have questions. HELLO. HELLO. The notes in Area Zero mentioned the professor meeting a child with a white(?) book? Is that the Scarlet/Violet book? We still don’t know how the whole time travel paradox happened and why Heath talked about meeting Paradox Pokemon DECADES before the professor even brought them to Area Zero through the time machine? What is with the weird ass crystal tree sitting in the middle of a lake in the depths? Is there any significance to the Crystal Pool in Kitakami being connected to terastallizing and Area Zero? I’M JUST. AGHHH. I’m fairly certain we’re getting more content, maybe an epilogue to the DLCs but I’m going CRAZY I NEED TO KNOW NOWWW

-Also isn’t Area Zero like. Top secret hush hush. Why did Geeta let Briar publish a whole ass book about the HIDDEN SECRET of Area Zero that was miles under a closed off SECRET lab. I thought they were denying Briar access to Area Zero for YEARS, probably because they didn’t want her blabbing to the public. Idk. Maybe my memory is fuzzy on that one. Just feels very contradictory fhhdd

-The small little subtleties of Kieran regaining his regular personality as we went down….I ADORED that. His little smiles and him unable to contain his childish excitement and Carmine smiling at him with a knowing look bc after all this time her brother is FINALLY acting more like himself. And Kieran trying to brush it off like “wh-whatever” like he’s some sort of edgy teenager pretending he doesn’t care. GAHHHH it was so cute I wanted to cry 😭

ALL IN ALL it didn’t QUITE meet my expectations but it was still really good, especially considering this was all DLC content. Nothing will ever EVER top the main story of SV but the entirety of TTM and TID came pretty darn close. Kieran my sweet baby boy my blorbo I’m so glad you got your redemption arc and that you finally came to terms with your perception of strength and how it affects others. Baller DLC Nintendo do it again 👏

#Pokemon #Pokemon Scarlet and Violet #Pokemon SV #The Indigo Disk #Indigo Disk spoilers #Pokemon SV DLC #Pokemon Kieran #Kieran #Pokemon Briar #Pokemon Drayton #The Indigo Disk spoilers #Pecharunt #Long post #Shima speaks #Well there is always fanfiction. LOL

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wyniepooh · 2 years ago

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aaron

hotch doesn't really like when fellow members of the team calls him by his first name. for you, however, maybe he can make an exception.

traumatized!hotch core, mentions of stabbing and TW: foyet 😔. The team investigates a case that reminds hotch of f*yet, he is not well and reader sees right through him. bau!reader, hurt/comfort/fluff that turns into something a lil more towards the end slightly bc it’s hotch so i can’t help myself .

hotch preferred when everyone called him by his last name. he never explicitly said it, but it was an unspoken rule of sorts. whether it was hotchner, hotch, or even whatever nickname penelope often came up with, he didn’t mind. as long as it wasn’t aaron.

'aaron' felt too personal to use with his co-workers. too intimate. as much as you guys were like a family, hearing aaron come out of spencer’s mouth would be as strange as a quiet crime scene.

and hell, was this crime scene hectic. the aftermath of a negotiation involving drawn weapons was always hazy— body overfilled with adrenaline and running on approximately three hours of sleep. all the law enforcement agents you could think of was present, interviewing people, collecting samples. all the lights and voices didn't help with the anxiety. but this scenario in particular had everyone scrambling to collect their thoughts.

hotch, especially. the mo of the unsub was eerily similar to that of foyet— the intricate stabbing that ensured the victim suffered long and hard but was still conscious enough to feel every inch of the next stab. the whole team was aware of the elephant stealing all the oxygen in the room, but no one really knew what to say or do given hotch’s constant stern affirmation that he was fine.

and so the whole team walked into the local police department in silence, hotch leading as the rest of you trailed behind. tired of the crickets practically sounding, you cleared your throat and exclaimed,

“so, does anyone want to get some food? i saw an authentic taco sta-“

your words trailed off as your eyes followed the figure in front of you, who was walking away haggardly towards the washrooms. you turned back towards your teammates, all of them shrugging and letting out a sigh. eventually, they all walked away with a promise to fulfill your hungry request and disappeared to their work stations.

you stood outside the bathrooms for at least five minutes, taking a step forward, then back. forward, then back. finally, you shook your head quickly, straightened your shoulders, and pushed the door into the room.

"h-hey! this is the men's-"

you didn't bother to acknowledge the young police officer by the urinal who was frantically pulling up his pants. you simply lifted an extended arm and nodded to silence him. you walked to the front of the stall where you spotted hotch's perfectly polished shoes, and stopped. once the guy left, you knocked on the door.

“hotch? i know you’re in there.”

silence. you began tapping your foot and crossed your arms, blowing out a rush of air. exasperated, you repeated again, “hotchner. open up. please.”

a click enabled you to release a breath of relief, the door opening to reveal hotch sitting on the closed toilet, head looking down with his hands crossed in between his legs.

“listen… i know you said you’re fine and that you're good to keep going, but we both know that’s bullshit. we know you. too well, even. we can tell that you're struggling, whether you like it or not. it’s obvious this case has brought up…”

your voice progressively got more silent as you noticed the response you got. silence. it wasn’t until you stopped talking did you realize his rapidly rising shoulders for each breath he took, and the way he fidgeted with his hands to hide the shaking. you immediately knelt down to his level, putting both hands on his shoulder.

“hotch? hey-“

“i'm sorry,” he mumbled.

“what?”

“i’ve been dismissive the whole day. i want to say it’s simply because i didn’t sleep last night, or the night before that, and that is part of it but… the reason i haven’t been able to sleep is because of the case. i thought the therapy was enough, i thought it would be fine once i was distracted with work,” he sighed, “i know i’ve made you all uncomfortable and i don’t know what to do about it. i wish i-“

“hotch.”

“-could just open up. i’m so sor-“

“aaron.”

he stopped his sentence midway and found your concerned eyes.

you chuckled, “if you say sorry one more time, i’m going to really make you sorry.”

it took a second for aaron to muster out a laugh as well, but eventually he did, and the sound put a genuine smile on your face.

still kneeling, your hand came up to softly caress his jaw. “don’t apologize for how you’re feeling, aaron. i’ll admit that the atmosphere is a little more tense than usual, but let's be honest here," you dropped your hand from his face, “we're all tense. we're profilers, for gods sake. what are we but tense?"

aaron gave a nod of approval, his lip curving into a small smile.

"and also, don't feel obligated to talk to us. everyone has their own coping methods. we're just reminding you that if you do need a person to talk to... we're here to lend an ear. and of course, we hope you remember that it's more than okay to take a break or admit you're uncomfortable. we get it. we won’t judge.”

you feigned a thinking face, “well, rossi might judge a little, but at least we won’t!”

he snickered and nodded again at your words, taking a deep breath. his hands had stopped shaking and his breaths seem to be more regulated. you smiled at him one last time before the both of you began to stand up.

as aaron straightened himself, he realized something. he didn't like the others calling him by his first name, but there was something different about the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue. in fact, he would do anything to hear you say 'aaron' again.

before you could both exit, the stall door behind you suddenly closed. a surprised ‘oh’ left your lips, and aaron looked equally as confused. the inclosed space pushed you closer to him, and just for a second, you saw his eyes flicker to your lips. you expected him to open the door like a gentlemen or apologize for the close proximity, but nothing ever came. you opened your mouth to say something, but all you could breathe was a quiet whisper of his name before he crashed his lips onto yours.

a/n: the washroom stall door was truly a paid actor.

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golbrocklovely · 1 year ago

Text

careful what you wish for // sam and colby (pt. 4)

A/N: first off, terribly sorry this came out so late. i've had a hectic last couple days, and didn't get to finish this fic up until tonight. and sadly, this the last thing i'm posting for my 13 nights of halloween. it's crazy to think that this is finally over. to anyone curious i will be getting back to answering asks by tomorrow. i'll also be writing up my review of hell week, and any other random things i had planned to write about/review before my 13 nights. also, i know so many of you have been waiting eagerly for this next installment, so sorry for the long awaited update. but hopefully it's made better by this fic. happy belated halloween, and happy haunting !

prompt: sam and colby have left you high and dry, so now you've resorted to possibly hooking up with a coworker at an event. but sam and colby will be having NONE of that. || vampire!sam and demon!colby x fem!reader

trigger warning: SO MUCH SMUT, manipulation via powers (surprise! it's not you this time), fucking in a public, fucking with a crowd watching, the crowd is also all of your coworkers, dumb business shit that i know nothing about bc i went to school for theater and work in retail lol, fourth wall break (spooky), cursing, degrading language, being bit but no blood drawn), mentions of: princess, baby girl, baby, slut, whore, called a fleshlight once, unprotected sex (but no fear of getting pregnant bc they're supernatural), gets a bit dark and possessive towards the end, heavy use of MINE and OURs, snc own you so…. if you don't like that don't read,

word count: 7077

~~~~~~~~~

It was Halloween night, and while you usually looked forward to Halloween, this night was a bit different. The company you worked at was having their annual 'Final Fiscal Quarter Party'. The higher ups agreed that it would be easier to throw it during October, rather than in December. Individual offices could throw their own then, but the main, big event was happening tonight.

Your company rented out a huge hotel ballroom. There was catering, a local DJ playing some family friendly tunes, and a stage where awards were going to be given out. You had been to a couple of these events over the years, but they were always very... boring. You would much rather be at home, snuggled up, watching a scary movie.

Or maybe getting fucked by your... boyfriends? It was hard to describe the relationship you had with Sam and Colby. They used you, but you used them. It was a very symbiotic relationship in that way. But currently, you weren't really too keen on them.

You considered hitting up your old friend, Jess. She was the one, after all, that magically brought Sam and Colby into your life. You hadn't talked to her in a long time. It could be because she still blamed you for the book permanently shutting and ruining her dating life forever.

She could bitch all she wanted, but she wasn't the one being stalked and fucked by a demon and a vampire.

You had grown a bit tired of Sam and Colby, their antics, and their overall ability to flip your world upside down. The sex was great, obviously. But at what cost?

Not to mention, they hadn't spoken to you, or showed up, in months. You were going through a bit of a dry spell, and hated the fact that they hadn't answered your calls. So, it did cross your mind to get rid of them. Permanently.

But that was an issue for another time. Right now, all you had to focus on was getting just drunk enough to enjoy this stuffy party, but not too drunk that you get messy.

And that came a bit easy for you. Across the bar, a handsome man smiled at you, giving you a nod as you accepted his drink. You could see his paper nametag said Brian, and you hadn't recognized him from your own office - so he was a safe bet. God knows you weren't the only one trying to hook up with someone tonight. Plenty of colleagues from different divisions were going to be getting crazy tonight. It was an inside joke amongst the company that this night was usually a fuckfest.

You gazed over at Brian, admiring his silky quaffed hair and great suit. He had a lovely smile; one he shot your way over the glass of whiskey he had in his hand.

A man like Brian seemed... dependable. A good choice for a significant other. Boring, basic, Brian. Maybe that's exactly what you needed. Something steady and settled. Not... supernatural.

Yeah, but could you ever fuck a man like Brian? A man like him could never fulfill your needs. You could hear Colby's voice in the back of your head.

You rolled your eyes, taking a long sip from your wine glass. No. Brian might seem a bit basic on the surface, but who knows? Deep down he could be a sex god. Maybe he was packing some serious heat, and just knew all the right ways to eat a woman out. Yeah, that's what's you would be focusing on. Not the imagine that Sam and Colby would surely try to paint in your head.

You were brought out of your thoughts as the lights dimmed up and down, signaling everyone to get to their seats, as the speeches and award ceremony was going to start soon. You shot a look at Brian one more time and found your seat quickly.

The head of the company sauntered up on stage as applause erupted throughout the room. He nodded his head, shooting a couple people smiles and finger guns. Eventually as the room quieted down, he stepped up to the podium, beginning his speech.

"Good evening, everyone. I'm so happy you all could make it here tonight. Happy Halloween by the way. Isn't this much better than a Christmas party?" He let out a solid laugh, swatting at the crowd jokingly. "But as I was saying, tonight we are all here to celebrate. This company might be big, but it's the little guys - the individuals - that deserve the praise the most. Sure, I'm the head and face of this place, but you guys are what make it possible."

Another round of claps came from the room. You glanced around and noticed that the chair next to you was empty. There was a name tag on the plate, designating this spot for a "Colson Brock".... whoever that was.

"Now before the awards begin, I would like to introduce you all to someone remarkable. This man has helped shape this company in many ways. And, he's incredibly sexy. So let's all give a round of applause for Samson Golbach." The CEO grinned brightly, gesturing to the side of the stage.

You raised an eyebrow, Sexy? That's a strange word to use at a business party. Not to mention, The CEO was married to a woman so... this was all a bit confusing. You awkwardly clapped as the light shined on a man with light blonde hair. He was in an all-black suit, his hair gelled in a sleek look. He waved at the crowd, smirking mischievously. He smiled once he got to the podium, his fangs glistening in the light.

Was that... Sam?

You gasped in your seat, staring up with wide eyes at the stage. It looked like him, but you had never seen him in a suit. Plus he wasn't exuding the same energy he usually would so, maybe this wasn't him. Maybe this was his doppelganger, or someone that looked extremely like him. You sat back in your chair, narrowing your eyes up at the man.

"Thank you all for having me here today. I know many of you don't know who I am, but that's by design. I purposefully like to stay in the shadows, remain almost anonymous. It's a system I built to keep this company running at breakneck speed, and so far... this has been our most successful year to date!" Samson cheered.

You could feel the room clap again, happy with Sam... Samson's words. You took a deep breath, your anger rising. This can't be Sam. Sure, it looked like him and even sounded like him. But Sam and Colby had never taken this... thing, with you outside of your own house. There was no way they would do this to you in front of all of your coworkers and colleagues.

"It's nice to finally be appreciated and received so well. I'm sure you've all had some crazy days and night working here. I usually work all hours of the night and barely get to see the sun. You would think I was some sort of a vampire or something." Samson chuckled, some members of the crowd following suit. He turned, catching your eye, and gave you a wink.

Did he just...

The chair next to you pulled back, a man sat down hastily. He cleared his throat, catching his breath. He unbuttoned his dark blue suit jacket, the silver pinstripes reflecting in the light. Your eyes traveled up the man's form, taking him in until finally stopping on his face. Everything about him was familiar, but his hair was pushed back, exposing his forehead. He took his glasses off, cleaning the lenses and sliding them back on.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.” You growled.

The man, Colby, turned to look at you suddenly. “I'm... sorry?”

You crossed your arms tightly, sitting back in your chair. “I can't believe that you and Sam would do this.”

He gave a weary smile. “I'm so sorry, you must have me mistaken for someone else.”

“Right, Colby.” You huffed.

“Colby? That's a silly name,” he chuckled. “My name is Colson.”

“Of course it is.” You turned to him sharply, “You know you two have a lot of audacity to do this.”

He shook his head awkwardly. “Again, I'm not sure what you're talking about, Miss.”

“You guys haven't spoken to me in months. I've called out to yall and got nothing back. And now you show up and want to play dress up?!” You whispered harshly. “You guys are sick.”

“I'm not entirely sure what to say. I'm not who you think I am,” he dissented. “I'm Colson Brock, not Colby, and I've never met that man on stage before in my life. But I am about to get an award from him so... if you could just stop talking to me, that would be for the best.”

You scoffed. “I swear to God, Colby-!”

You were cut off as Sam’s voice grew louder, “This award is given out to individuals that show inspiring traits and work countlessly day in and day out for us. The award for Best Dedication, Integrity, Creativity, and Knowledge goes to... Colson Brock!”

You scowled as Colby stood up, patting down his suit softly. He walked towards the stage, shooting you a smug look over his shoulder. He stepped on stage, shaking Sam's hand, and a photo was taken of the two of them holding the award.

You grabbed your purse, sneaking off to the bathroom quickly. You stumbled in, rushing to the sink and leaning against it. The bathroom was empty, just you alone. You breathed deeply, shaking your head.

That had to be Sam and Colby. There's no way that wasn't them.

But a part of you imagined, for just a moment, that maybe... it wasn't them. How could they have manipulated everyone into thinking they were real workers at this company? The CEO introduced Sam, or Samson. Colby's name, or Colson's name, was on the nametag and award.

You felt yourself flush at the thought. Oh my God, if that isn't Colby, that man out there thinks I'm absolutely insane. How the fuck am I supposed to go back to my table, sit there and eat an under seasoned chicken parm, and pretend I didn't just berate a man?

You groaned, bending down, and resting your head against the sink counter. Even when Sam and Colby weren't around, they still fucked with you.

You heard the bathroom door squeak open, your body jolting up. You didn't need another person thinking you were losing it.

Heavy footsteps crept into the bathroom, a man. A deep voice sighed, snickering lightly. You glanced up through the mirror, your eyes widening. Colby swayed in, leaning against the wall. His suit jacket was gone, now just in his button up and slacks. He rolled up his sleeves, running a hand through his hair.

“Surprise, Princess. Did ya miss us?” He teased.

You glared, “What the fuck, Colby?”

“What?” He gestured outside the bathroom, “A bit too dramatic?”

“This is my livelihood! How dare you and Sam come and fuck this up for me!” You exclaimed, anger coursing through your veins.

“Relax, baby. We would never do anything too bad. No need to worry. Everyone will forget any of this happened. Honestly.” He put his hands up defensively. “This was all meant to be a bit of fun. We just wanted to get a rise out of you.”

“Well, you succeeded. Congratulations.” You retorted, crossing your arms.

“You should be congratulating me on my award. I have the best dedication, integrity, creativity, and knowledge.... D-I-C-K. Dick? Best dick, get it?” He bit his lip cockily, “Came up with it myself.”

“You're a fucking genius,” you deadpanned, rolling your eyes. “God, I knew I should have talked to Jess sooner.”

“Jess... why does that name sound familiar?” He questioned, feigning curiosity.

“She's the one that gave me the book that made the two of you.” You explained bitterly.

“Oh, she is? I'm gonna have write her a thank you card,” he winked. “But why exactly do you need to talk to her?”

“You two... I want you gone.” You admitted.

His face dropped, “What?”

You stepped up to Colby, getting in his face. “Aren't you tired of fucking around with me? Coming and going as you please? Why am I not allowed a normal life with a normal guy?!”

The lights flickered in the bathroom, Colby's eyes turning black for a split second, his horns visible. You shuttered, pressing yourself against the counter. The lights stopped flickering, and Colby was back to normal.

He cleared his throat, loosening his tie a bit. “Because... you're ours. You belong to us.”

“Fuck you.” You spat.

“You have... multiple times,” Colby pointed out in a snarky tone. “Even last year around this time, too.”

“Last Halloween?” You thought back, and a bunch of images started popping into your mind. Sam snapped Colby's neck but was also somehow terrorizing trick-or-treaters. Colby took control of your body but was also somehow dead while you and Sam fucked in your kitchen. It was all very confusing and didn't make quite sense.

“Wait, how the hell did you both fuck me and simultaneously not?” You puzzled, aggravated.

“I guess it just depends on what you picked.” Colby smirked, “Right, reader?”

“What are you talking about?” You replied.

“Don't worry about it.” He leaned against the counter next to you, “Back to what you were saying though. So, you want a normal guy so you can live a normal life... why? Isn't it more exciting to get fucked by a demon and a vampire?”

“Yeah, but there's more to life than sex.” You argued.

He feigned shock, “Take that back.”

You jeered, “You're extra fucking annoying, you know that?”

“And you clearly need the brattiness fucked out of you. But for some reason you don't want me or Sam to do it. Why? Did you have someone else in mind?” He took a couple steps, facing you again, “Like, say... Brian.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. “How do you-“

He interjected. “I'm a demon. I know a lot of things. Not to mention I saw him and you eye-fucking each other by the bar. You're lucky I saw it and not Sam. Because Brian would be drained dry by now. Still probably will be.”

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, fine. I was eye-fucking Brian. And why am I not allowed to? Yall have been gone for months.”

“But you've been putting that toy of yours to such good use,” Colby taunted.

“You're an asshole.” You shot back.

“Thank you. I appreciate the love,” he smiled genuinely. “But I gotta ask, do you really think a man named 'Brian' can make you come like we can? Be honest with yourself on that.”

“That's not the only reason I want him,” you responded sassily. “Plus, he could be really good at sex.”

“Okay then. Let's find out.” Colby stomped over to the door, yelling out, "Brian! Get in here!"

You furrowed your brow, confused as to what Colby had up his sleeve. What the hell was he bringing Brian in here for?

Brian stepped in, glancing between the two of you. He had a dazed look on his face, clearly entranced.

“Colby, don-“ You started.

He cut you off again, “Look, princess. You wanted to know if he's a good fuck. So, I'm giving you the chance to find out. See what a normal fucking will bring to your life.”

“You can't force him to fuck me!” You fumed.

“I mean, I definitely could, but I'm not going to.” He turned to Brian, patting his shoulder, “Brian, my guy, do you want to fuck Y/N?”

Brian nodded. “Yes.”

“That's why you were buying her drinks tonight, right?” Colby asked.

“Yeah.” Brian’s voice was dull, almost like there were no thoughts behind his eyes.

“Such an honest man,” Colby commented. “Do you find her attractive?”

“Of course.” Brian agreed.

“Would you sleep with her if she said yes?” He continued.

Brian blinked, “Yes.”

Colby looked at you, “There we go. Happy?”

“I'm not fucking him in here, or in front of you.” You retorted, leaning back against the counter.

“Don't you want to prove me wrong? Don't you want to wipe the smug look off my face when he makes you come with his tongue? Or his totally, not average sized, dick?” Colby stepped up to you, his voice low, “The moment I walked in here, you got wet.”

A rush of blood came to your cheeks, your breath hitching.

“No amount of blushing can hide that deep down, you're a slut that wants to be fucked - pretty much - anywhere. And you're only giving me lip because we left you cold and alone for a couple months. I'm sorry about that. I truly wished I listened to your pleads...” he leaned in, kissing your cheek. “And cries...” he moved to the other cheek, giving it a quick kiss. “And screams,” he kissed your forehead gently. “Begging me to come fuck you. But absence makes the heart grow fonder. And this, right here, is my apology to you.”

You stood still, unsure what to do. Part of you did want to fuck Brian, just because you did find him hot. But with Colby standing next to him... it was no contest.

“Here. I'll sweeten the deal,” Colby offered. “If he makes you come, we'll leave. Forever.”

You froze, “Really?”

“No, probably not. The whole magical book kinda forbids that. But we will leave here, and you and Brian can go on your merry way and you two can go have beautifully... vanilla, sex.” He smiled dryly.

“Lucky for Brian, I'm already wet.” You quipped, glaring.

“Perfect. Brian, give the lady what she wants.” He gasped, “Ooh, can I choose what he does? Pleaseeeee?”

You blinked, giving the slightest nod.

“You are so generous.” Colby spun to him, “Brian, do you want to eat her out?”

“I would... but I don't do that.” Brian spoke monotone.

Colby’s face dropped, almost mimicking yours. “You don't give head? Sloppy toppy? None of that?”

“No.” Brian replied.

“This is the man you want, huh? Absolute loser,” Colby pointed at him, rolling his eyes. “Well, Brian, now you do. So, go crazy.”

Brian turned to you, a lustful look overcoming him. He dropped to his knees, crawling towards you. Your heart raced, watching his every move. His hands wrapped around your ankle, slowly kissing up your leg gently. The sensation sent a shiver up your spine, your head falling back a bit.

Colby leaned against the wall, studying you. His face was blank, almost uninterested. You glared at him, trying to ignore his presence. He smiled, giving a little wave.

Brian nibbled on your inner thigh, his fingers stroking up and down the center of your underwear. He brushed against your clit, your knees almost buckling.

“You're wet, Y/N.” Brian hummed in awe.

“Yeah, that's what happens when you turn a woman on.” He leaned in, whispering to you, “Is he new around here or...?”

“Shut up, Colby!” You groaned. “Keep going Brian, please. I need you.”

“Don't take it too personally, Brian. She says that to everyone. Especially me.” Colby grinned.

“Drop dead.” You hissed.

He remarked, “I'm not really alive so...”

Brian pulled down your underwear, letting them fall down your legs and to the floor. The cool air hit your hot sex, making your body tense up. Brian leaned in, his mouth connecting with your clit.

You closed your eyes tightly, allowing the sensation of his tongue to arouse you more. It was a slow build, that was for sure. Nothing like Sam and Colby and the way they did things. But it was still nice.

But maybe not what you needed.

You placed your hand on the back of Brian's head, pushing him more into your heat. He grunted, the vibrations feeling fantastic against your clit. You amped up your moans, hoping it was believable to Colby.

He yawned, gazing at you bored. You shook your head, deciding to ignore Colby. You were determined to come, to make them leave. But Brian was not helping you, which was upsetting.

“Brian, baby... go a little faster please.” You begged, annoyed.

He nodded, moving his tongue hastily. You could feel the pleasure build more, but it was still a long way away from being close to an orgasm. He slid a finger in, pumping in and out sloppily. You groaned, feeling even less turned on suddenly.

“I guess I know why you don't give head.” Colby swatted at Brian, “Move.”

Your eyes widened, “What? No! Brian, st-”

“I know you want to come so we leave, but that ain't gonna happen with Brian over here.” Colby mentioned.

"Well, maybe he could fuck me!" You argued, gesturing to his dick.

“But I'm not hard.” Brian stated.

Colby raised an eyebrow, “Why?”

“Eating pussy isn't really a turn on for me.” Brian informed.

“God, Y/N, you really know how to pick them.” Colby pulled him up by his arm, smiling sinisterly. “Brian, why don't you leave and go find Sam? I think he can teach you a valuable lesson on what happens to men that don't please their women.”

Brian turned and left, not saying another word. You huffed, glaring harshly at Colby. “Your little glares aren't going to do anything to me, sweetheart. If anything, they just make me hard.”

Colby's hand slid down and cupped your sex, palming your clit gingerly. You gasped, back arching as you pressed yourself against the counter. Colby barricaded you in, his hand beginning to make small circles on your clit.

“This is how a man fucks a woman like you.” He uttered, staring at you intensely.

“But you're not eating me out.” You challenged.

Colby cocked his head. “If you wanted my tongue, you could have just asked.”

You suddenly felt a tongue licking at your entrance, your body shuttering in ecstasy. “Fuck, h-how-?”

"Did you forget I have abilities? Is it because the horns aren't here?" The lights flickered, and when they turned back on, his horns were out. “How about now? Do you remember what I am now?”

"Yeaahhh, I remember." You whined, your head falling back in pleasure.

“You are so sexy when you get close to coming. God, it makes me hard just thinking about it.” Colby pushed his clothed, growing dick against your thigh, “Do you feel me?”

You nodded mindlessly, your hands gripping his forearms.

“Princess?” He asked innocently.

“Uh-huh?" You murmured.

“I think that's enough for you." All the sensations stopped, Colby pulling away from you.

“Wha-? No. No! Colby, please.” You grumbled.

He asserted, “It's time for you to be punished.”

“What did I do?” You questioned, your mouth a gape.

"I'm sorry, was Brian that forgetful or do you like playing dumb?" Colby spun you around, making you face the mirror. He rolled your dress up a bit, pressing his bulge against your bare ass. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm gonna start fucking you, and you have to remain quiet. Just like you were with Brian."

You lowered your voice, “Why do I have to be silent?”

“Because otherwise, you'll get caught.” He whispered cheekily.

The door busted open, and a gaggle of women came in, chit chatting like there wasn't a demon about to fuck you right against the sink.

You gulped; your voice even quieter. “What the fuck, Colby?!”

"Don't worry, princess. If you remain silent, they won't see you. But once you make a single noise, they'll know. They'll know that you are a dirty slut that likes to get fucked in the bathroom. That you're so desperate for dick that you'd let a demon fuck you. And a vampire." He tsked sassily, "Double greedy."

Colby unbuttoned his pants, giving your ass a slap as his cock sprang free. You bit your lip, holding back a gasp.

"You ready for me, baby?" He lined himself up with your entrance, sliding along your lips. Then finally, he glided his cock in.

You trembled from the sensations, direly wanting to moan along with him. But you didn't want to get caught. Being fucked while others were around, whether they could see you or not, was embarrassing enough.

But also incredibly thrilling.

Colby thrusted deeply, his cock hitting the right spot over and over again. You felt overwhelmed, but in the best way. Your body already felt like it was building rapidly, your legs shaking under your weight. You felt like your skin was on fire, burning against the cool air.

A lady walked up to the sink next to you, washing her hands and looking at herself in the mirror. You shuttered out a breath, Colby picking up his pace.

“Don't look at her, Y/N. Look at yourself in the mirror. Watch yourself get fucked.” He commanded breathlessly.

You turned your head, staring straight. He smirked at you in the mirror, keeping his pace the same while lazily pulling off his tie.

"This is what you deserve, sweetheart. You're such a slut for me." He yanked your hands behind your back, tying them easily with his tie. He gripped your connected hands, bucking his hips harder and faster now.

Your body buzzed erotically, your hips gyrating in time with Colby's. You could feel your edge building; all you had to do was stay quiet.

Colby slid one hand down between your legs, finding your swollen clit instantly. He rubbed it faster than his thrusts, causing your whole body to jolt. You sucked in a harsh breath, knowing you shouldn't have. But God... the sensation was too much for you to stay quiet.

The women in the bathroom looked around, confused.

"Baby, do you want to get caught or something? Because you are being awfully loud. Maybe you need something in your mouth to quiet you down." He snaked his other hand up towards your face, his two fingers rubbing along your lips. You parted your mouth, allowing his fingers inside.

He cursed, “That's fucking it baby. Be a good girl and suck them for me.”

You sucked his fingers like your life depended on it. He finger-fucked your mouth in time with his dick, both speeding up as the minutes passed. You could feel yourself getting close, knowing that your orgasm was imminent.

“It's been too long since the last time you sucked my cock.” He chuckled darkly, “Maybe later you do that for me. Wouldn't you want that, princess?”

You nodded desperately, bucking your hips wildly against his cock and hands. You were about to explode, your edge hitting its peak. This is all you wanted for the last couple months: to be fucked hard and well. And that's what Colby was doing.

“You almost ready to come? Build up baby. Suck my fingers dry. Suck them like you would my dick.” You took his fingers deeper, gagging around them. You pumped yourself on his cock, whimpering. "There you go, baby. What a good girl." Colby leaned in, his horns grazing your cheek as he uttered, "My good girl... Come for me."

Your body spasmed around Colby's cock, bouncing on it helplessly. You moaned loudly around his fingers, not caring if anyone heard. You had been so focused on staring in the mirror at yourself getting fucked that didn't see that you and Colby were all alone in the bathroom once more. His eyes bore at you in the mirror, flashing to black.

Relaxing your hips, his cock pulled out of you for a moment, letting you relax. You felt your juices run down your inner thigh, your body still running high. You leaned down, placing your head against the counter as you took some deep breaths.

“Hi there, baby girl. “A familiar voice came from behind you, but it wasn't Colby's. You looked up quickly, Sam now behind you, and Colby was nowhere to be seen. Sam waved back at you in the mirror, smirking. "You ready for me now?"

“W-Where is Colby?” You stuttered, your pussy twitching at the thought of Sam's hard cock.

"Oh, you don't need to worry about him. He'll be back soon enough." Sam traced a finger along your sex, gasping. "God baby, you are so wet. Completely soaking yourself."

He took his finger into his mouth, tasting you. "Fuck, I missed that."

Your mouth hung open, watching him through lustful eyes. His hand snaked around to the front of your body, grabbing your neck firmly. He pulled you flush against his partially exposed body, his cock hard against your ass. "We give you everything you could ask for, and you still wanted someone like Brian? How pathetic."

He forced your head to look at yourself in the mirror, "You are a desperate slut just begging to be fucked. But we're the only ones that can make you feel this good."

Sam slammed his hips into yours, his cock taking you deeply. You grunted loudly, eyes rolling back into your head. He took advantage of your still tied up hands, holding them tightly. His other hand raced up your back, lowering you down to the sink. He placed you flat against the counter, fucking you harshly. You shook with each of his thrusts, mewling at every in and out.

“You think you get to choose who fucks you now? You think you can move on from us?” He fumed, his cocking hitting your spot repeatedly.

You panted, “Noooo.”

“There is no one other than us. Let me make that abundantly clear: you're ours.” Sam's fangs sunk into your skin, your eyes widening. He continued to bite you all over, barely drawing any blood, but marking you; letting everyone know you were taken.

Your second orgasm was close. You needed this second one badly, itching to come sooner rather than later. You could feel how desperate and hot and slutty it was turning you.

“Baby girl, do you deserve to come? Have you been good?” Sam questioned.

You nodded, your whole body shaking, “Yessss. Yes I have. Please Sam! Please!”

He pulled you up again, locking eyes with you in the mirror. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing tightly. “Ride my dick, baby. Make yourself come on my dick.”

You uncontrollably bucked your hips, whining on his cock. His hold on your neck tightened just enough, making it hard to breath and your vision blurring. The lack of oxygen made your orgasm hit twice as hard. You soaked his member, moving mindlessly on it until you finally finished. Your legs gave out a bit, Sam catching you. He snickered, his red eyes taking you in through the mirror.

The doors to the bathroom busted open again, a random lady coming in. She turned and looked at the two of you, not even acknowledging what she had to be seeing. "Y/N, you need to come out there quick."

You were taken aback by this woman, unsure of who she was or what the hell she wanted you for. "W-what are you talking about?" You rushed, shimmying your dress down, trying to cover yourself back up.

“They're calling your name. You won an award!” She exclaimed, leaving the bathroom happily.

You furrowed your brow, turning to Sam. But he was gone. Those powers of their really do come in handy for moments like these.

You shuffled out of the bathroom, even more confused as you glanced around at everyone from your company. They were all looking at you, smiling brightly and being congratulatory. You walked towards the stage, the people directing you, and as you got closer, you saw Sam and Colby on it, holding a plaque of some sort.

Sam pulled you on stage, kissing your cheek sweetly. Colby handed you the award, shaking your hand dramatically. You took the award in your hand, turning it to see what it said.

“Give it up for Y/N everyone. The biggest slut of the year!” Sam yelled into the microphone. “Congratulations baby, you deserve it.”

You gawked at Sam and Colby, the reality of what they did hitting you. You threw the award on the ground, glaring at them harshly.

“Hey now, we worked really hard on that.” Sam pouted.

“Fuck you, how dare you make me a fool in front of everyone!” You ranted, getting in their faces.

"Princess, no one is gonna remember this. And luckily, no one will remember this either." Colby smiled devilishly.

Sam and Colby grabbed at your dress, tearing it off your body like it was made of cheap fabric. The crowd cheered, your body heating up immediately as you were suddenly naked in front of everyone.

“Now, don't argue with us, plaything. You can bitch and moan all you want to but being fucked in front of everyone... turns you on.” Colby wrapped his arms around you, whispering in your ear, “No matter how much you want to deny it, you can't deny how drenched you are right now.”

Your body quivered as Colby's fingers slipped easily into your cunt. You fell back against him; his suddenly naked body cool against your hot skin. Sam sauntered up to you, rubbing his hands up and down your torso. His hands kneaded your breasts, nipples aching to be touched.

Sam laughed, “Look at her, Colby. She can't even argue with us. She knows that we're right. She is the biggest slut of the year. She's our slut, our toy, our plaything. Ours. Forever.”

The room erupted in applause, some even screaming out your name.

“Let's give them a show, princess,” Colby gestured to the eager crowd. Let the people see the real slut you are. Isn’t that what you want? To be fucked in front of everyone.”

You couldn't think anymore. Every sensation was overpowering your thoughts. You knew deep down that Sam and Colby were right, and all you could think of was how badly you wanted to come again.

You nodded feverishly, your hands automatically pawing at both of their bodies. The air around you changed once you said yes, your body being positioned graphically. Forced down onto your knees, Colby stood in front of you, while Sam was behind you.

“Aww, baby. Look, it's your favorite positions: on your hands and knees, getting railed by us.” Sam jested playfully.

Your sex throbbed, direly needing them inside of you. You whined, looking up at Colby. “Please, just fuck me. No more teasing.”

Colby stared into your eyes, jerking himself off right in front of your face. “You want this, huh? You want me in your mouth. Say it.”

You nodded, biting your lip. “I want you in my mouth.”

“And what about me, toy?” Sam slapped your ass, making you look back at him.

“Fuck, I need it. I need the both of you so bad!” You cried, grinding your hips back against Sam.

Hoots and hollers sounded off around the room. You glanced at the crowd, their hungry eyes taking your desperate form in.

“Fine then, since you asked so nicely,” Colby cupped your face, turning your head back to his cock. The tip pushed against your mouth, sliding in easily. He moaned lowly, almost animalistically. Sam teased his cock along your entrance, slipping in effortlessly.

Once they were in you, you sighed deeply. It felt so good to be surrounded by Sam and Colby, to be filled by them. They had you right where they wanted you, and you loved every second of it.

And the crowd seemed to love it even more.

They started off slow, taking their time to build your pleasure up. There was nothing else on your mind. All you could think about was their cock and how much you wanted them to come deep inside of you.

Colby gaped, “Oh princess, you have the filthiest mind. Maybe even dirtier than ours.”

“That's why she's our slut. We are just innocent people being used by this whore of a woman,” Sam shuttered, lulling his head back as he fucked you. “And God, I love every second of it.”

“I could fuck this mouth for hours. How does that sound, sweetheart? You love that idea, don't you?” Colby breathed, biting his lip, staring down at you.

You nodded enthusiastically, taking his shaft deeper. He grunted, hips twitching. His hand rested on your head lightly, pulling your hair softly. His grip tightened, causing you to gag around him.

Sam cursed, “Fuuuuck, she clenched around me when gagged. Keep doing that, baby girl. That felt so good.”

“Y/N, how can you get all of this, all of us, and still want something else? Especially Brian. What a fucking loser.” Colby groaned, disgusted.

Sam agreed, grimacing. “Dude didn't even know how to eat pussy. He didn't even like eating pussy.”

The crowd booed, screaming expletives at the sound of Brian's name.

“See, everyone knows that Brian sucks. How could you ever settle for something like that when you have the best right here?” Sam inquired. “Two men willing to do anything to make you come.”

"Let me make this perfectly clear, darling," Colby pulled himself out of you, raising you up so you were eye level with him. He held your face firmly, his voice low and calm. “While I'm never the type to get jealous, and watching you get eaten out by that joke of a man was entertaining and kinda sexy, let me be honest with you.”

His face dropped, his eyes darkening with each word. "If you ever go after another man again, I will personally make sure to rip his heart out in front of you, and then I’ll breed your cunt so deeply you will feel me for days. Because there is no one else for you, princess. Just. Us. Forever. That means for eternity, you are ours. You are mine."

Sam yanked your hair, pulling you out of Colby's grip for a moment. He grunted harshly, "That goes for me too, baby girl. If you ever even breathe near another man again, I might have to drain your sexy little body dry and turn you into our immortal plaything for forever. And don't think for a second I'm bluffing."

Colby took you by the neck, pulling you back towards him, choking you lightly. All the while, Sam was still fucking you. "There is no escaping us, Y/N. We will never let you go. No matter what you do for the rest of your life, we will always be there, in the shadows, watching. We own you. And nothing will change that."

His face relaxed, going back into his casual, smug look. "So... in the meantime, enjoy yourself, princess. And open your mouth again."

He pushed you down, his cock still hard and leaking, ready to fuck your mouth. Their words sank deeply into your mind, arousing and frightening you all at the same time.

Colby thrusted himself back in, gagging you. “There you go, baby. But now, I think it's time we give the people what they want. Right, everybody?!”

The room screamed in approval, lustful energy shooting through you from the sound. Suddenly, Sam and Colby began fucking you passionately, the sheer brutal force alone bouncing you back and forth on their cocks. You whined around them, feeling yourself get lost in the feeling of being their toy.

Sam groaned a breathy sound, “God, you're basically just a fleshlight, Y/N. Don't you love being used by us?”

“You know she does, Sam. Just a set of holes for us to use.” Colby’s voice was husky and low, “God, her mouth feels incredible.”

“She's so pathetic, really. She squeezed around me so tightly when we called her names. Maybe we should do that more often.” Sam taunted.

“Of course. There are so many more names we could come up with for her. But right now, all I'm concerned about is coming down her throat and fucking her until she chokes.” Colby's hips sped up as he face-fucked you. You didn't even have time to react, your jaw becoming slack and just allowing him to take over and use it like a toy. Tears welled up and rolled down your cheeks and drool dribbled down your chin from his harsh actions.

Sam's hand went between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts. Your thighs shook from the feeling, the pleasure overwhelming.

“You're so close, aren't you, princess?” Colby panted.

Sam chimed in; his voice depraved. “Build up for us. Come with us, baby girl.”

They pounded into you in unison, almost taking the breath out of you with each thrust. The room began getting louder, chants of "Come for us" came from the crowd, building up in time with your orgasm.

Every part of this was spectacular and you couldn't get enough.

Your breathing hitched as your orgasm hit the edge, ready to fall over once they said you could. Sam and Colby kept going, kept using you, until they were ready. You begged them to let you come, your pleas muffled by Colby’s cock. Both thrusted with abandonment, needing to come just as badly as you.

Colby grunted, pulling your hair, “Fuck, fuck! Y/N, come! Come for us now!”

“Do it baby! That's fucking it, YES!” Sam growled, his fingers bruising your hips as he held them tightly.

All three of you exploded in euphoric pleasure, bellowing out in ecstasy. The crowd roared as Sam and Colby filled you up with their cum. You released around Sam's cock, soaking him. You swallowed as much of Colby's cum as you could, gagging as he hit the back of your throat repeatedly until finally slowing his hips down. Sam slammed inside of you once more, grunting out a strained cry. Your body was spent, exhausted from being fucked so many times. You felt yourself black out, unable to stay awake a moment longer.

When you came to, you were in your hotel room, inside the same hotel the event had taken place at. You felt sore everywhere, knowing that wasn’t a dream. You sighed happily, snuggling into bed. You noticed a note on the side of your pillow. You picked it up, reading it quickly.

Ours.

- Sam and Colby

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