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carakook · 1 month

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🎀 A “Coquette” Misunderstanding 🎀

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

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♡Pairings: fuckboy!Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader

♡Synopsis: Jungkook has been a self proclaimed fuck boy after his last relationship ended fairly messily… until he met you. Started out as fuck buddies, but he always had a huge crush on you. With time, he realized that he’s actually falling in love with you, and he is itching to make you his girl. He knows being a fuck boy means he has to prove himself when it comes to being serious, so he comes up with the perfect gift to give you when he confesses… only for it to turn into the biggest fucking mess.

♡Genre: Romance/Comedy

♡Word count: 5k+

♡Warnings: 18+ for mature audiences only, MDNI, mentions of sex, lewd references, lots of talk about penises, talks of being in love (ew!!!), arguing, mentions of alcohol, no smut but this fic revolves heavily around sex, making out, Jungkook is kinda stupid (bless his lil heart), also kind of weird in general? Let me know if I miss anything!

♡Disclaimer: This story in no way reflects the characters of those who are mentioned. It is pure fiction and for entertainment purposes only. Please don’t take it seriously. Nothing is real in this story.

♡A/N: This is my first request! I hope whoever requested it likes it, it was supposed to be a Drabble but I got a lil carried away… oops! The request was fuck boy Jungkook falls in love with Y/N, but there’s a misunderstanding that eventually gets resolved and they live happily every after! I have no idea how I came up with this 😭 it’s kinda silly and kinda weird but I think it’s cute. I hope you guys like it. 😅

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Jungkook finds himself wondering if he can possibly get anymore fucking stupider than he feels right now.

It seems when it comes to you, he simply loses brain cells. He’s not sure what it is about you, but anything involving you short circuits his brain as of late, and he is continuously fucking things up.

Maybe it’s because you’re so fucking pretty. Maybe it’s because the way you look at him makes his knees weak. Maybe it’s simply because he’s a man, and men are stupid… Or maybe, it’s because he had the recent revelation that for the first time literal in years, he has caught feelings.

And what’s worse is that he’s realized this isn’t just a little crush. He’s fucking in love with you, and it’s making him forget how to function.

Jungkook doesn’t catch feelings, not since his last relationship ended very messily two years ago. The way the relationship ended left a very bad taste in his mouth, so he decided to go back to his college days of being a fuck boy and never falling in love again…

Which was working for some time. It was freeing to be able go back to his old ways; he could enjoy a woman’s body and worship them like the goddesses they are, and then wake up the next day without feeling any obligation… or anything at all, really.

Until you came along.

You had been friends for years, although you were never very close. He always thought you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen, but he also thought you were so out of his league. You weren’t the type of girl to go for fuck boys; you were put together and had very high standards, you knew your worth. He liked that, but never really had the guts to push it because he was sure he didn’t fit those standards.

That is, until one drunken night at one of Jimin’s parties… you flirted with him heavily. It was the biggest fucking ego boost that he ever had. He never assumed you would be interested in him, because his noncommittal habits weren’t a secret. But on this night you were very obviously interested in him. You were being touchy, and sweet, and you just looked so fucking pretty.

This was the first night you slept together, and Jungkook doesn’t like admitting that you unraveled him in a way no other woman had. The sex was mind blowing. He has never felt such intense chemistry with someone before… and fuck, you gave the best head he ever gotten. He was addicted after that, he knew he didn’t want it to be a one time thing.

He didn’t want to make you his girlfriend necessarily, good sex still wasn’t enough for him to consider being with someone seriously again… but he did want to see you again. The next morning he was bashful; made you breakfast, drew you a warm bath with essential oils and pretty smelling soap, and even ordered you a very last minute bouquet of flowers to wake up to.

This alone should have told him that things would be different with you, because although Jungkook always treated a woman with love and care when they gifted him their body for a night, he never went this out of his way to impress them.

He told himself it was because he felt the need to overcompensate. In bed he’s very confident, but out of bed, he’s not as sure of himself… especially with you. He felt lucky to have a night with you, and he knew he needed to put an effort in to keep you interested in him because he wasn’t exactly your type. If he was able to keep you interested, then maybe you’d see him again.

He was right, you didn’t normally go for fuck boys. Casual sex wasn’t exactly your favorite, because men often forget to focus on the woman, too. You weren’t exactly looking for anything serious, but you also weren’t looking to sleep with some guy who only cared about himself in bed. And most hookups you had thus far ended with you less than satisfied.

It was uncharacteristic for you to sleep with guys like Jungkook, or really give them any attention at all. But Jungkook has always been pretty, and he’s always been so fucking sweet… that night at the party, he looked extra appealing to you.

Even then, you weren’t planning on doing it again. The chemistry was undeniably intense, but you weren’t a fan of sharing. There were health risks to sharing partners if one of you weren’t careful, and you didn’t like that it made you question yourself. You tried it before, and it just wasn’t for you. You like exclusivity, and that’s ok. Everyone has preferences and boundaries and not everyone will agree with yours.

This is why you didn’t plan to see him again. But when you woke up and saw all the sweet little things he did for you, you were definitely tempted… what really got to you was how he fucking looked at you; he looked at you like a love sick fucking puppy and it was the most adorable thing you’d ever seen. He was adorable. You’d never been with a man who was so fucking sexy but also so goddamn cute at the same time.

No guy had gone through such trouble after what was supposed to be a one night stand before. It was like he really was a dog; he brought you these little gifts in the form of acts of service in the hopes you would continue giving him head pats. Or, actual head in this case…

And although he wasn’t actually love sick, he definitely was a bit pussy whipped.

Temptation won in the end.

There was no spoken agreement between you two… you just started having sex regularly. And every time it was fucking toe curling. No man took care of your body so perfectly and left you 100% satisfied. But beyond the sex, you both found that you thoroughly enjoyed being around each other. You’d never knew each other well before this, you were mere acquaintances who were familiar with each other because of mutual friends, but you grew closer and got to know each other as time went on, and in the end you kept it going.

Of course you were worried about his reputation, but you didn’t push him or even ask for exclusivity. He never explicitly said that he wouldn’t be exclusive with you, but you started liking him and the sex was enough to let go of that boundary and make an exception for him. You knew he was safe and you knew he would always treat you right. This was enough for you… even if it sometimes bothered you that you didn’t know whether he was sleeping around or not. He wasn’t your boyfriend, just a fuck buddy you grew fond of.

Little did you know, he had no desire to sleep with anyone else. You didn’t even need to tell him these boundaries, because he knew without you telling him. He wouldn’t dare do something to fuck this up. The sex was so good that he didn’t have the want for anyone else, he didn’t even think about it. He still wasn’t quite ready to be serious with someone, but he was content with you in a way that he never had been any of his previous hookups or fuck buddies. He wanted to keep you as long as you’d let him.

A routine started; as time went on you spent more time together, hung out often, and fucked like rabbits. You played with his hair and scratched his back, you picked on him and made fun of him in a way that made him laugh every time, and you knew exactly how to handle him even when he was a bit overwhelming. He was so content with what you both started.

Until recently.

Jungkook started realizing a few weeks ago that maybe having thoughts of an entire future with someone who’s only supposed to be your fuck buddy isn’t exactly normal. Sometimes he’d lay awake at night thinking of you for hours… he’d imagine taking you on actual dates, not just little outings disguised as friends hanging out. He’d imagine getting to brag about you being his girlfriend. But what really started to make it obvious was when he imagined what you’d look like in a wedding dress…

Five months in and he realized he’s falling for you. He’s so fucking gone for you, and for once, he’s giddy about it.

You’d both developed this sort of playful relationship. When you weren’t fucking, you were always joking around and making each other laugh. You both had a very crude sense of humor and so many little inside jokes. It was comfortable, and he started feeling like a kid on Christmas Day at the thought of keeping it going forever.

He wanted to ask you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you’d be hesitant because of his history. He wanted to do something for you that not only would prove to you he’s serious, but something that was special. He didn’t want to get you a piece of jewelry, or a bouquet of flowers with a card; he wanted it to be something only you would experience. He wanted to go all out for you.

He recalled a conversation you both had one time over dinner at his place while watching a drama. The guy in the drama was proposing to the main character, and it was as cliche as any other drama.

“That’s so cheesy. Why can’t guys be more creative? He’s asking her to spend fucking forever with him, more thought should go into it.”

“Yeah? Well if a guy proposed to you how would you want him to do it then?”

“I dunno… but not like that. Forever is a long fucking time, whoever decides to propose to me better do something more special than a damn ring.”

“But that’s literally what a guy is supposed to do, how else would he do it? You’re supposed to get the girl a ring and get on your knees n’ shit.”

“That’s so cliche though! I dunno, I’d rather something else… like maybe a dildo that was a replica of his dick. Something to the effect of ‘will you ride my dick forever?’”

That conversation ended in laughter of course, because you were only joking… but also, as Jungkook thought back on it, it would be so fucking perfect.

Not only would it show that he remembered the little things, but it would also break the stigma that he created for himself; it would show you that he was serious, he had no desire to be with anyone else sexually emotionally, and it would fit in with your playful dynamic. Like a little inside joke, and although he isn’t asking you to marry him, he wants the message to be clear that he wants to build a forever with you.

So he did some research. He original thought about getting you a dildo that was a replica of his dick, and found that there were DIY kits he could buy to make it himself. But also… why would you need a dildo if you had him? So he researched the more artistic aspect of things and found that there were actually a lot of artists who specialized in making replica sculptures of men and women’s body parts.

He liked this much more, because he felt it was a bit more sentimental and maybe more fitting. He found one artist in particular who’s sculptures and paintings looked very realistic. In their portfolio, they featured some comparisons of the pictures that inspired the sculpture vs. the sculpture they made, and there was barely a difference. They clearly had talent, and he was totally fine dropping however much money to get this done for you.

So he contacted the artist to order a commission. It was a hefty price, because he paid to have the process expedited. He wanted this done as soon as possible because he was practically shaking with excitement at the thought of asking you to be his girlfriend. But the price was worth it. The artist asked him some questions and listened to his requests. His only request was that it would be life sized, it would have a little pink bow wrapped around it (because you loved cute things, he remembers you called it ‘coquette’ once.), and somewhere it would have ‘Property of Y/N’ on it. The artist was confident that they could have it sculpted, shipped, and delivered by the end of the week. All the artist needed was a picture of his penis for reference.

Awkward, but understandable. It was very professional, obviously if he wanted the sculpture to look like his dick the artist would need a reference photo. This was purely for artistic purposes, it’s not like he was sending nudes or getting off on it. He was doing this for you and he couldn’t fucking wait to see the finished product or hear your little giggles when he presents it to you.

But of course, in his excitement, he fucks up exponentially.

He was supposed to email the photo of his dick to the artist. So he has no fucking idea why after he took the photo, he texted it to you… probably because subconsciously, who the fuck else would he be sending pictures of his dick to? He’s not even the kind of guy to send nudes, but he has a few times with you on nights that you’re both too busy to actually meet up and have sex.

He could’ve just played it off and said something stupid like ‘surprise’, but he immediately panicked because he was afraid you’d figure out what he’s doing. Which is so fucking stupid because how the fuck would you ever guess what he’s doing?

So what does he do instead?

He handled it very poorly, to say the least. He didn’t know what the fuck to do, and he had no idea why the told you he sent it to the wrong person. It was because it was the truth, that’s why. He didn’t really think anything of it when he admitted he sent it to the wrong person, because he had a clear conscious. Why lie when he has a clear conscious?

He panicked not because he was guilty, but because he was scared that you would catch on and the surprise would be ruined… which is so fucking stupid. Out of everything, you couldn’t possibly guess what he was doing.

He didn’t think about the implications of telling you that it was the wrong person, and it just went downhill from there. He really should have just told you the truth in that moment, but he doubts you would have believed him. The story would seem far fetched at this point because of how vague he was being in the beginning.

And you really didn’t believe him. You trusted Jungkook, but that message reminded you that you aren’t exclusive with him. He isn’t your boyfriend. He has a reputation of being a fuck boy and he’s just your fuck buddy. So it wouldn’t have been a surprise if he really was messing around with other girls considering he technically has every right to… but it still stung.

If he had come out and admitted it was meant for another girl, you would have probably been a bit bitchy about it, but you wouldn’t have fought with him over it. He has the right to see other people when you both never agreed to only see each other. It was that feeling of being lied to that set you off, you fucking hate being lied to. You have your fair share of history involving men who lie, and although you made an exception on one of your boundaries for Jungkook, you refused to make an exception on being lied to for any man.

And even though he wasn’t actually lying, how the fuck would you have known that? He’s right, if he did send you some elaborate paragraph about what the picture was actually for, and how he just instinctively sent it to you after taking it, you probably wouldn’t have believed him after he denied it so vaguely like he did.

For days he tried to talk to you. He blew up your phone, called and texted hundreds of times, blew up your Instagram notifications, and even started fucking making tweets on Twitter begging you to talk to him and let him explain (dramatic as fuck, his friends made fun of him for it, and he didn’t care because he was desperate.) You ignored him, of course, because deep down you were a bit hurt. You really couldn’t stand the thought that we was sending nudes to someone else, possibly fucking them, and then lying to you about it.

It reminds you as to why you have the boundary of exclusivity… and also makes you realize that maybe you like Jungkook a little more than you thought you did.

He’s a mess. He kept debating whether or not to just show up to your place, get on his knees and beg you to listen to him… but he knew you wouldn’t let him in, not unless he had proof of what actually happened. He feels so goddamn stupid. He could easily show up and show you the email as proof, explain his thought process and what the picture was for, what he was doing, confess that he’s fucking in love with you and wanted to do something to show you how serious he is…

But he decides to give you space. He knows that it’s unlikely you want to listen to him or see him right now, and he needs to let you cool off. By the time the sculpture is delivered, he can show up, explain himself, and do everything as planned.

It’s the longest fucking week of his life. His thoughts are consumed with you and he prays that when he does show up, it isn’t too late, and you’ll let him explain himself.

That you’ll say yes after it’s all said and done.

The next Friday, he receives the package. He nearly fumbles with it as he opens it, wanting to get this shit over with so you guys will be ok again.

Just as expected, it’s perfect. It’s obviously not the exact same as his dick, but it’s pretty fucking close. It looks exactly as you would expect a sculpture of a dick to look like. The bow that was sculpted onto it is perfect, pink and detailed, wrapped between the tip of the sculpted dick and the base. At the very bottom of the base, in tiny cursive letters reads ‘Property of Y/N’. He thinks it’s perfect, and if you find it in yourself to hear him out, he knows you’ll love it. He can already imagine your cheeks getting pink as you giggle at the absurd gesture.

He gets himself ready. He puts on some cologne, brushes his teeth, stares at himself in the mirror a little too long trying to psych himself up. He knows showing up without warning is probably not the best way to go, but he hopes that once you open the door and see him bearing gifts, you’ll be more open to listening to what he has to say.

He makes a stop on his way to your place because he impulsively decides to buy you some flowers and a cute gift box for the sculpture. He’s in a rush because he feels like he’s dying on the inside with you so upset at him. When he gets the flowers, he just stuffs a wad of cash in the florists hand before running back off to his car. He probably overpaid for them… but he doesn’t care.

He makes quick work of putting the sculpture inside of the pink box he picked out, adds a matching pink bow for good measure. Once he’s satisfied, he carefully placed the flowers and the gift box in his front seat, and nearly peels out of the parking lot in a hurry to get to you.

You’ve been sulking all damn week, because you miss him. At first you were pissed, because you swore he was lying, he just had to be. Why else would he be sending dick pics to someone? But as the week went on, you did start to question yourself. Because Jungkook had never given you a reason to not trust him, and despite that fact that neither of you have ever explicitly said it was exclusive… you know that it is.

Because when you’re both in a room full of people, his eyes never stray. When he tells one of his stupid jokes, the first person he looks for a reaction in is you. When he goes to the grocery store, despite you not living together, he always stocks up on your favs. And every morning and every night, no matter what, you are the first and last person he talks to. The little things tell you everything you need to know.

Even now, after he stopped blowing your phone up because you continued to ignore him, he made sure to text you good morning and goodnight.

So why would he lie? Why would he lie when all of the signs are there that you are his sole focus? You may be unaware of how deep his feelings are for you, but the little things show where his loyalties lay.

It’s just so hard to believe him because you can’t possibly fathom who else he could be sending nudes to, and if the reason wasn’t sexual, then why? You don’t exactly send pictures of your genitals to someone for casual or platonic reasons, so…

You’re sitting on your couch watching TV and pouting when he knocks at your door. You aren’t expecting anyone, so you have a feeling it’s him… you debate not answering the door, but in the end you do, because you’re just as irritable without him as he is you.

You open the door and keep a neutral expression on your face, you see him standing there with those same love sick puppy eyes and you nearly fold right then and there.

He’s holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand and a fairly large pink box with a bow on top. So he came prepared, it seems. You don’t know whether to be flattered or offended at the supposed bribe, but you keep an open mind.

“What do you want?” You say cooly… as if you’re not going to let him in anyway.

“Y/N can we please talk? I know you hate me right now, but please just let me explain myself. I swear this is all just a really big and stupid misunderstanding.”

He has no idea what’s going on in your head right now because you seem so calm, so collected. He wishes he could be like you, because if you don’t let him in, he swears he’s gonna cry and bang on your door until you let him. He’s not above throwing a fit at this point.

You stand there for a moment staring at him, making it seem as if you��re skeptical… but really, you just missed his pretty face.

“Fine.”

You open your door for him and he nearly fucking pushes you down when he barges his way in, afraid you’re going to change your mind.

He makes his way to your couch and sits down, pats the spot next to him and sits the gift box down on your coffee table along with the flowers.

“These are for you… open it first.”

You cross your arms and scoff at him, don’t sit down yet. You start to wonder if he’s avoiding actually explaining, wanting to butter you up first so that you’ll be more willing to forgive him.

“What? No, explain why you lied about sending—“

He holds his hand up to stop you from speaking, “Dammit, Y/N, open the damn gift first. You need to see it in order for me to explain. Please.”

You huff at him in response, because it’s kinda hot when he talks to you like that… but now is not the time to get hot and bothered. You don’t even know what his supposed ‘explanation’ is or if it’s something you’re willing to forgive.

You do listen to him though, you take a seat on the couch and grab the pink box. You take off the bow, which you love, and you carefully open up the box to reveal…

A penis. Hm.

You take it out and start inspecting it… you don’t know how to feel yet. You’ve been sleeping with him for months, you both know each others bodies very intimately, so you can immediately tell that it is indeed his dick, specifically because of the little heart shaped freckle down the shaft. You notice the bow that’s sculpted into it too, and you find yourself giggling at it without meaning to. Just like he thought you would. The entire gesture makes your cheeks warm. Such an odd fucking gift, but you already love it.

You turn it over, and you see at the base of it right above the testicles of the sculpture, in cute little letters ‘Property of Y/N’.

As weird as it is, you find the gesture so fucking cute… but you also don’t understand it. You don’t understand why he just gave you a coquette sculpture of his dick, what this has to do with the dick pic, and why it says property of Y/N, because that’s a very serious thing to put on a sculpture of his dick that he just have to you.

Before you gush over how much you love the silly thing, you ask wearily, “Ok… but like… what does this have to do with anything?”

Jungkook let’s out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and his heart pounds because he’s so fucking thankful you seem to be open to hearing him out.

He begins explaining hesitantly, “Yeah, right, so umm… lately I’ve been thinking… about us. And I sort of realized that I… like you. Like, a lot. Not just the sex or the whole fuck buddy thing, but I really fucking like you as a person Y/N.”

Now your heart is pounding because you genuinely didn’t expect this confession. Which in return, makes you impatient… because you like him too. But you can’t tell him that until you figure out what the fuck happened with the dick pic and wether or not you need to stop this before it starts, or forgive him, or even apologize for not letting him explain.

“Ok but what does that have to do—“

“I’m getting to that. Just… ugh, shut up, this is embarrassing.”

He looks away from you and starts biting at his lip ring. You feel kinda bad, because he really does look embarrassed about it. But oh, it is so fucking cute…

You nod at him and lean back into the couch, the sculpture in your lap as you silently agree to let him continue and try to keep your impatience in check.

He reluctantly continues, “After realizing this, I wanted to… tell you. Wanted to ask you to be my girlfriend. But I didn’t want to be cliche about it, I remember us talking about it before… so I wanted to do something special… something only for you.”

He lets out a breathy laugh and squeezes his eyes shut, because he starts overthinking a bit. He wanted to to something special for you, so he got a fucking sculpture of his dick made… ridiculous train of thought. Such a fuck boy thing to do.

“I remembered you making a joke about how if a guy proposes, you’d want it to be with something other than a ring… and I’m not proposing! But you know, it’s similar so… yeah. Fuck. Anyway, I did some research and found out that apparently dick sculpting is a type of art? And my dumb ass thought that was perfect…”

He chances a glance at you, looking up from his lashes as he sits forward and rests his elbows on his knees. So far, you seem receptive of the story… you don’t seem to be suspicious of him yet. Thank fuck.

“I commissioned an artist to make a sculpture of… my dick. For you. And they needed a picture for reference… it was all very professional. But when I took the picture, I guess I just automatically sent it to you, because I don’t do that shit with anyone else. So I didn’t think. But when I realized I texted it to you, instead of emailing it to the artist… I told the truth because I didn’t think about the implications. And I did a very fucking bad job at attempting to explain when you did start questioning it. That’s my bad…”

It’s slowly starting to make sense. The story is a bit… far fetched. But it’s so far fetched that you highly doubt Jungkook would have gone through the trouble to actually commission an artist and drop who knows how much on this sculpture just to save his ass. It may be a very specific situation, an original experience, if you will… but the proof is in the pudding, and you can tell by the look on his face that he isn’t lying.

“I should’ve just told you what happened but I doubted you’d believe me after how badly I fumbled. So I waited for the damn thing to show up. I can show you the emails back and forth with the artist and stuff too if you want… but Y/N I swear I wouldn’t lie about something like that. I haven’t fucked or even looked at another woman since we started messing around… don’t want to. Only want you. So please believe me.”

He looks at you with pleading eyes, and gives you a small pitiful smile. You do believe him. You really didn’t have any reason not to to begin with, but the miscommunication prevented you from seeing that.

It really was just some very stupid misunderstanding.

You say nothing. Instead, you set the sculpture down carefully, and you scoot closer to him. You grab his face gently, and lean in to kiss him.

Fuck. He missed your lips so bad.

He immediately kisses you back, damn near whines at how good it feels to have you again. To see that you aren’t rejecting his explanation or refusing to trust him, but you’re forgiving him. He kisses you back sweetly, one of his hands coming to the nape of your neck while the other cradles your jaw.

You pull back and murmur, “I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Was stupid of me. Forgive me.”

He smiles so fucking stupidly at this and nudges his nose against yours. He starts peppering your face with little kisses as he says, “Forgive me for being a fucking idiot…”

One last huge smooch to your forehead, and he pulls you into his lap. He feels so much more lighter now that things are cleared up. God, he wants to fucking laugh at how absurd it all is. All week he started to regret ever choosing to get a sculpture made of his fucking penis as a way to ask you to be his damn girlfriend… who the fuck does that?

Him, apparently. And he started wishing he fucking didn’t.

But seeing you now, seeing how you’re smiling at him with the same adoration in your eyes as him, he’s thankful he did it. Sure, was a very odd gift to get you… but it suits your dynamic perfectly. And the way you giggled at it bashfully, he knows you absolutely loved it.

He reaches down and squeezes your ass as you sit on his lap, not trying to initiate anything, just wanting to touch you. He stares at you in silence for a moment, because a week away from your pretty face was far too much.

He flicks his lip ring with his tongue before asking, “So… does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend then…?”

He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward when he asks, but he’s nervous that you’ll say no because you didn’t really say anything when he explained earlier…

Stupid boy, can’t he see how much you fucking adore him? Of course you’ll say yes.

But even then, you hum in response as your hands reach up to play with his hair, as if you’re mulling it over and considering your options.

“Mmm… depends. You gonna let me put a real bow on your dick? Make it all cute and coquette?”

“Yes.”

He doesn’t even hesitate. Of course he will. Fucking anything you want if that means you’ll be his girlfriend, if you’ll let him love you and fuck you and take care of you for what he hopes is forever. And honestly, the thought of you putting a bow on his dick weirdly turns him on.

You giggle at him, lean in and press your lips against his again. You kiss him once more, a bit more tongue this time just so you can hear him pant and feel his heart beat faster against your chest.

When you finally come up for air, you say against his lips, “Then yes. I’ll be your girlfriend.”

He lets out a breathy laugh, was nervous you were going to say no. But you didn’t. And he has never felt so fucking excited or proud about something, he swears.

He can actually say that you’re his girl now. Thank god for his coquette dick.

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walpu · 2 months

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hey, hey, I don't know how many times I've read your post "pre-relationship" especially aventurine part (omg i love how you write abt him 😭). I wonder how it will be once they are in a relationship and the kissing part please :3 thank u and have a nice day!

THANK YOUUUUU

Hope you'll enjoy this post too💛💛💛

being in a relationship with Aventurine

characters - Aventurine notes - gn!reader, fluff, hurt/comfort (do I even write something other that hurt/comfort for him lmao), no beta

can be seen as a part 2 of this post but it can stan on it's own as well

Aventurine

It would take quite some time for Aventurine to move from the pre-relationship stage with you. Will dance around the subject, throwing hints and flirty remarks but as for making an actual move? Oof.

Would cling to your side and shamelessly say something like "aww, can't get enough of me? people may think we're dating <З unless that's what you want them to think haha"

Pathetic. /affectionally.

But seriously, he really wants to be sure that you like him before making a move. That you like him, not his money, not the idea of him. At least that's what he tells himself. And while this is part of the reason, the actual thing is that he's simply... confused. He's already more vulnerable around you than he ever was around anyone else. And dating means being even more vulnerable.

While he yearns for this genuine connection he's also a scared of it. Tim Kreider wrote the line "If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known" about him actually. Source: trust me bro.

It would take some time for him to get used to being in relationship. In the previous post I've mentioned that he, most likely, had some short flings in the past. I seriously doubt that he ever had any serious relationship before you though. It's so new to him. At first it would seem like nothing has changed between the two of you at all. Surprisingly, it looks like he even became a bit more distant.

Aventurine doesn't want to attract any unwanted attention to your relationship since it will only endanger you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm you. Plus he doesn't want to overwhelm himself. Plus he is scared shitless.

He can't help but feel that he looses everything he holds dear. After all, it's been like that for all of his life. And he simply can't loose you.

Mini spoiler for his leaked character story, but there is a moment there when he looks at the aventurine stone Diamond gave him and he realizes that despite the fact that he worked so hard for it, now that he has it, it holds no real value since it doesn't fill the emptiness inside of him. Logically, he knows that this won't happen with you. He loves you too much. But there's this subconscious fear inside of him that he's just so messed up inside that he simply would not be able to love you like you deserve.

Be patient with him, this mans doesn't know what he's doing. Don't give up on him and he'll crawl to your side, holding onto you for dear life.

Once he will calm down a bit, he'll make it up for all those times when you were the one reaching out to him. Texts you, calls you, arranges spontaneous dates.

In the beginning of relationship would spoil you with expensive gifts. He knows what it's like to have nothing so he doesn't want you to ever feel this way. And the best way to prevent it? To make sure that you will have anything and everything. Maybe it's a subconscious way to bribe you. Maybe. Not like he realizes it himself.

Once he'll feel more stable and more confident, his gift giving tendencies will get less overwhelming. He still like giving you gifts but now he picks and chooses. His sugar darling deserves only the best, after all.

Acts all clingy, playful and unserious but actually listens to your every word and is ready to fulfil your every need.

Is actually very caring. Shows his care by pestering you and easing you tho.

If you feel down, will sit stay by your side. May randomly start tickling you, if you're ticklish. If not, will find another way to touch you in a playful and somewhat annoying way. After you cheer up a bit, Aven will put his chin on your shoulder and hugs your waist, softly asking what happen and why is his dearest darling seems sad.

As for kisses. Aven will loooove covering your face with butterfly kisses. And not only your face. Will randomly grab your hand and kiss your knuckles and fingertips. If you've made a mistake of exposing your shoulder then be ready for it to be kissed endlessly.

Adores kissing those parts of your body that are usually covered with clothes. It feels fore intimate for him.

And if you have freckles or/and beauty marks. Oh well. Will trace them with his fingertips, connecting them with some invisible lines and sometimes gasp playfully, saying that he found his constellation. Just a silly little guy being a silly little guy.

So touch-starved it's unreal.

Has very mixed feeling about his tattoo being kissed. Would feel... weirs if you would kiss it during your casual cuddling session. He exposes it for the world to see, yes. But still, when it attracts attention of someone who knows the meaning behind it... Makes him a bit tense, it catches him off-guard. However, if you kiss it after a lovemaking session or when he shares some painful memories with you, he will feel reassured.

Will slowly start crawling out of his shell when he's with you. Before he only shared some brief memories of his past with you, now he'll start slowly opening up about other, much more painful stuff.

It still happens randomly and out of the blue. He remembers something, he tenses up. But now, instead of repressing this feelings, he shares them with you.

Don't push him too talk, he'll slowly open up on his own.

Loves waking up next to you. Especially if you're still asleep. Seeing the sun shining on your face fills him with love and tenderness. Only with you by his side he feels truly safe.

#one day i'll learn to control my word vomit and my post'll stop being so fuckass long #hsr #honkai star rail #hsr aventurine #aventurine x reader #aventurine #walp's writing #reader insert

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bluexiao · 1 year

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#”aren’t you tired of me?”

–when you ask them if they feel sick of you | a request | comfort | dipsy anon, here’s your request! I hope this will at least comfort you :)))

SCARAMOUCHE

“Are you-” stupid, was what he was about to blurt out–what he wanted to, anyway, but with that look, you were giving him, it was quite impossible to let the words out without him biting his tongue. And so, with a sigh, he purses his lips and flicks you on the forehead.

“Ow!”

Another flick, but this time, you will be able to dodge it by placing a hand over your forehead.

“What was that for?!”

“For being an idiot.”

First of all, he finds it idiotic for you to think that someone like him would seriously think that way, especially after everything you two had been through. And second, he did not really expect you to say such things, and he is still coping with the shock while being “mean” to you.

He’s just annoyed—not at you, hell, he’ll probably first think that someone else had triggered you to say that stupid question, but in a few, he’ll slowly start to doubt himself; had he done something to make you think of him that way?

Yes, he’d think back over the few times he’d tease you out of affection—not that he would want to make it too obvious—and also the times he’d be utterly shit at you mostly because he’s too much of a brat to admit his feelings—which, in his defense, he only did in the first few weeks (or months) of meeting and soon dating you. Now that you’ve seen every single part of him and he the same to you, this anxiety of yours is quite surprising to him as well, and he also partly blames himself that above everyone, he prides himself that he knows you very well, but now in the end, he doubts that he does know everything about you.

Maybe he is the idiot this time.

“Tired?” He chuckles loudly. “Darling, did you really think I have such a short fuse that I would tire of you all for nothing? Or are you quick to forget about the years we’ve been through together, huh? Shall I help you remember?”

XIAO

Immediately has his forehead crunched and eyes boring into yours with a look of bewilderment, and it does take him a while to respond to you. Probably, he thought that you would follow up with “Just kidding!” with a little giggle, but when it seemed like you won’t, he bites with; “Is that really what you thought of yourself?”

Honestly, he would be quite offended, but not to the point that he’d selfishly bring it up to you upon realizing the way you felt inferior enough to prioritize someone like him over yourself.

Quite frankly, he thinks he should’ve been the one who should ask you if you’re tired of him.

Slightly annoyed, but more so with the crippling thought of; who or what made you this way? Is there someone who belittled you like this? Or maybe… did he?

The mere thought of him being the source of your worries and heartaches would be his downfall.

“Y/n, tell me,” he has his hand on your chin, urging you to face him and look into his eyes, and once you did, you could see the softness in them—a look that despite being on his face quite a number of times, you still could not fathom how on Teyvat you had managed to pull it off of him, “Is that really what you thought of yourself?”

Your lips purse and your gaze waver, only for his hand to travel to your cheek instead, urging you to make contact with his gaze again, “Love? Talk to me.”

You frown as you obliged his wishes, weak for the softness and genuine way his voice sounded. And then, you could feel his lips on yours. Just a small peck. But it was enough to ease your mind and muscles down.

“Our bond is too deep to sever,” he interlocks his fingers with yours, the other hand still caressing your cheek as he gazed straight into your eyes, pecking you on the lips one more time before continuing on, “I will never tire of you. Never.”

comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

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#yaepublishinghouse #genshin x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin fluff #genshin headcanon #scara x reader #genshin wanderer #genshin scaramouche #genshin xiao

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smhalltheurlsaretaken · 3 months

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~all creatures great and small~ (amazing illustration by the awesome @david-talks-sw)

“And just what exactly is it that you’ve been doing?”

Obi-Wan had to stop himself from giving his fellow Councillor—and friend—a rather pronounced eyeroll.

“You tell me,” he said without taking his eyes off his clamoring little herd, feeling rather proud of himself. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Mace came up to his side and crossed his arms, looking decidedly unimpressed. He looked at Obi-Wan, then at his rambunctious little friends and their merrymaking, then back at Obi-Wan again.

“It looks like you have been avoiding meetings all morning.”

Obi-Wan couldn’t help the small smirk that tugged at his mouth. He carefully put his hands in his large sleeves.

“Have I?” He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop laughing if he saw Mace’s no doubt exasperated face, so he kept carefully looking onward. “You should have called me.”

“You know I did,” Mace griped, valiantly ignoring the racket and still boring holes in the side of Obi-Wan’s face.

If it came to a contest of wills, Obi-Wan knew he’d be hard pressed to match Mace’s stubbornness. He turned to face him, and inevitably let out a huffed chuckle. Mace looked annoyed alright, but he could do nothing about the twinkle in his deep eyes.

“You,” Mace insisted, no doubt trying to maintain what he probably hoped to be a convincingly stern demeanor, “have spent all day corrupting our next generation instead of going over mission reports.”

“Really, Mace—”

A yellow blur careening between the two of them nearly knocked them off their feet. A beige, more bipedal one rushed right after it, bumping into them both with equal speed if not equal force.

“Sorry Masters!” the youngling yelled over her shoulder without stopping.

Obi-Wan had to cough into his fist to keep from cackling.

“Obi-Wan.” Mace said.

“She apologized,” Obi-Wan pointed out with a brilliant smile.

“You still haven’t.”

“What for?”

Mace’s control finally cracked, and he thrust an accusing finger at Obi-Wan’s innocent face, ready to give into a rare display of unrestrained aggravation. Obi-Wan quickly batted it away and beat him to the punch.

“It’s a perfectly good way of teaching the younglings patience and control!”

Mace blinked at him, his mouth left hanging open, his finger still up and now pointing somewhere over to the right. He turned slowly, and surveyed the bustling courtyard in bemusement. The half-dozen or so pufferpigs that Obi-Wan had let loose there were being corralled by three times as many eager younglings, clone cadets and Padawans, and the animals all felt entitled to express the full range of their feelings on the matter in a loud and enthusiastic fashion. Little Mari Amithest was still running after the particularly rowdy creature that had mistaken Obi-Wan and Mace for Rodian bowling pins.

Mace’s eyebrows climbed to previously undiscovered heights.

“What part of this,” he gestured incredulously, “is controlled?”

“None of the pigs have puffed yet,” Obi-Wan explained seriously.

Mace’s eyebrows were now on their way into orbit. A moment passed. Then, his expression of astonishment seamlessly melted into curiosity.

“They haven’t?” he asked, considering the whole bunch with renewed interest.

“I told you, it’s a proven method,” Obi-Wan insisted, vindicated. He pointed to the far corner of the courtyard, where Katooni was showing some of the younger children how to feed a happy looking unpuffed puffer. “My Padawan has taught that one to do tricks.”

The squealing puffer was hopping from one foot to the other before avidly sweeping treats from the children’s outstretched hands.

Mace was now looking suitably impressed. More careful study of Mari’s chase was making it apparent that the animal she was after was not distressed in any way, but was—rather mischievously—trying to run off with her sash clutched in its stout trunk.

“You shouldn’t let emotions cloud your perception,” Obi-Wan reminded him in a serious voice.

“Hm,” Mace conceded magnanimously, impervious to the teasing.

The twinkle of carefully contained amusement that had been present in his eyes from the start had won over all other sentiments. A wet snort had the two Masters look down at the adventurous pufferpig that had made its way over to them. The amicable beast was fixing them with soulful blue eyes, candidly inoffensive. Its stubby tail was wagging quite politely. Mace distractedly bent down to pet the expectant critter on its broad, squishy face.

“It wants to smell your lightsaber,” Obi-Wan warned. “They like crystals.”

Mace straightened and put a hand on his hilt.

“The Mining Guild didn’t pick them up yesterday?” he inquired. “That was on the agenda.”

Obi-Wan shrugged.

“They tried, but for some reason all the identity chips turned out to be unreadable. There’s no way to prove who these fellows belong to.”

Mace gave him a flat look.

“Hondo stole them from a Republic transport.”

“There’s all sorts of things on Republic transports,” Obi-Wan reasonably pointed out.

“The transport was chartered by the Mining Guild.”

“Hondo wiped the manifest during his hijacking. There’s just no way to know.”

“Your Padawan was there to escort the Mining Guild representatives.”

“Some mysteries can never hope to be solved.”

The pufferpig had taken to bonking its head against their legs affectionately. Mace, bowing to the undeniable strength of Obi-Wan’s ironclad argumentation, very seriously gave the tenacious quadruped another pat.

“They’re not staying,” he reminded Obi-Wan firmly.

“Obviously not,” Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow. “The Temple would be a terrible environment for them.”

His friend narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“And you’re not making me spend my time finding them a place.”

“Honestly, Mace.” Obi-Wan gave the affable puffer a gentle shove, and it obediently trotted away to a nearby group of younglings and clone cadets who were already entertaining one of its siblings. Obi-Wan wiped his hands on his pants. “Naboo has very responsible educational farms.”

“Does it,” Mace said mildly.

“Including a recently opened one in the Lake District.”

Unashamedly petty enjoyment rang in the Force.

“Don’t come to me when Skywalker tries to send them back.”

“Who says I’ll pick up when he does?”

Obi-Wan loved Anakin, dearly. Still, he hadn’t yet quite forgiven his old Padawan for retiring—running away—before they could make him shoulder his share of the sacred responsibility of wrangling the Temple’s significantly increased youngling population. It was Luke and Leia’s birthday soon anyway.

“You’re stooping to deviousness,” Mace said, carefully neutral.

Obi-Wan gave him a wry look.

“Never. Revenge is not the Jedi way,” he said just as calmly.

“It’s them you’re supposed to be teaching,” Mace said with a short nod towards the unruly bunch. “He’s had his turn.”

Speaking of teaching…

“Oh my,” Obi-Wan said smugly, pointing to a boy who had taken to carefully levitating a surprisingly compliant—if a little alarmed—pufferpig, “that wouldn’t happen to be Caleb, would it?”

His fellow Council member was now pinching the bridge of his nose, his other hand planted on his hip.

“I must say, that young man is certainly very skilled at forming connections with animals. Depa must be very proud.”

“Just don’t,” Mace groaned. He whipped out his communicator. “He’s supposed to be meditating with Yoda right now.”

“That explains it,” Obi-Wan said.

Master Yoda was slowly ambling into the courtyard, looking quite pleased with what he was seeing. He poked misbehaving younglings with his cane as he walked, chuckling to himself when they yelped and hastily reached with the Force to make sure the pufferpigs stayed relaxed. The pufferpigs themselves were only curious, and in a sufficiently playful mood that the younglings’ offended squeaking was not enough to agitate them. Caleb had set down his floating puffer with all possible speed—and great care—at the sight of the venerable elder, and made ample and readily accepted apologies to the perplexed animal in the form of scritches.

Mace slowly put away his communicator. He pursed his lips.

“Obi-Wan,” he said slowly, “next time, just have them practice making friends with the stray tookas.”

That’s how his master had done it, and Mace had never had any problems with connecting with animals, large and small.

“Pufferpigs are much more even-tempered.”

It was all Mace could do not to facepalm. Giving up, he shot Obi-Wan one last dry look.

“Just do your damn paperwork.”

Obi-Wan watched him stride away, dignified and imposing. Of course, since he wasn’t exactly paying attention to his surroundings, with how focused he was on pretending he was above this whole situation, he didn’t notice Mari’s wayward puffer on a direct collision course with his legs. The poor creature, who hadn’t noticed Mace either, let out a terrified screech and promptly puffed.

The entire courtyard froze, watching with fascination as the inflated pufferpig bounced twice and slowly rolled to a halt. It made a sorry little squeak.

Resignedly, Mace closed his eyes and set to work on gently calming down the pufferpig with the Force.

The children loudly cheered.

#ficlet #mace windu #obi-wan kenobi #star wars #no order 66 #jedi order #jedi temple #my writing #yoda #caleb dume #katooni #loose sequel to my fic “villains and knaves”#Hondo stole the pufferpigs to sell them obi-wan confiscated them and now he’s not giving them back to the mining guild meanies

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idyllicwillowtree · 2 months

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God Eddie, You're So In Love With Me.

Genre: Eddie Munson x Henderson!reader, fem!reader, angst/fluff, hurt/eventual comfort, friends to lovers

Summary: Being in Hellfire, you’ve been exposed to your fair share of bullying. One day, Jason takes it a step too far.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: bullying, anaphylaxis, poisoning, no physical descriptions of Y/N so you don’t have to look like Dustin, reader wears makeup, reader uses she/her, reader has a peanut allergy, reader is called princess, swearing

Author’s note: I got this idea from an episode of Freaks and Geeks (which is an awesome show I totally recommend). Peanut allergies weren’t so common in the 80s so that’s why Jason is so ignorant and dismissive about it.

Sorry I haven’t written in a while, I was hibernating.

Enjoy!

Main Masterlist

Part 1:

Eddie proudly sauntered into first period with his head held high and a smirk on his lips. His mouth was watering in anticipation. He plopped himself down in the seat next to yours, wide eyes and a wicked grin plastered on his face, an eager hand open towards you.

“Wow Eddie. It’s 7:29, you got here with a minute to spare,” you said as you leaned over to grab the bite size Laffy Taffy from your backpack to place in Eddie’s hand. “I think this candy reward system is really working.”

“Of course it worked, it was your idea after all. But today’s a special day, I was definitely not going to not be here,” Eddie said with too much energy for this early in the morning. He stuffed the yellow taffy into his mouth and chewed it like a happy 5 year old, wiggling in his seat with excitement.

“Are you talking about the photo?”

“Yeah! Hellfire finally gets a spot in the yearbook. We shall finally leave our mark on this cesspool we call a school,” Eddie said through the glob of candy in his mouth. He swallowed the treat harshly as he got a good look at you, “you look great by the way.”

“Yeah?” you said shyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. You started fiddling with the hem of your Hellfire shirt, “I thought I’d go with a bit more eyeliner today.”

“Yeah, you did a great job princess.” With the excuse of admiring your eyeliner, Eddie was able to take a moment to study your features. Your gaze stayed on your hands, picking at a loose thread.

“God, Eddie. You’re so in love with me,” you said with a teasing smile.

Eddie barked out a laugh, dimples on full display as he tried not to let your words affect him too seriously.

“Great, the flirting freaks are back at it again.” Jason remarked from a few rows behind you. Both of you turned around in time to see Andy dramatically fake gagging.

Before you could hurl an insult back at them, Eddie took notice of what Jason was snacking on.

“Hey asshole, you can’t eat peanuts in class.”

“Yeah? And who’s gonna stop me, Munson? You?” Jason said through a full mouth, spitting out chunks as he laughed obnoxiously with Andy.

You simply rolled your eyes at Jason, annoyed with the jocks and their willingness to tease and fight so early in the morning.

Eddie’s grip tightened on the back of his chair. His white knuckles caught your eye and you reached out to sooth him, hoping he wouldn’t start a fight he couldn’t finish. The second your hand landed on his, the tension in his shoulders deflated and the fire in his eyes was snuffed out as he sent you a reassuring smile.

Jason waved around his ziplock tauntingly, “Seriously freak, let’s see if you can actually take these from-”

“I’ll take those,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she walked in behind Jason and snatched the bag. “Mr. Carver, you know you’re not allowed food in my class, let alone peanuts.”

“But coach said we have to protein-load before the game tonight,” Jason wined.

“Too bad. Some allergies can be very serious,” You shrunk in your seat as the other students turned to stare at you, knowing you were the one she was referring to. “You can get these back after class,” Mrs. O’Donnell said as she rounded the corner of her desk to address her students. “Now, everyone, please open your textbooks to chapter six.”

You, being the diligent student you were, immediately followed orders. Eddie on the other hand didn’t even remember to bring his book bag to school, but at least he got his candy.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I’m serious guys, I might have a crush on Mrs. O’Donnell now,” Eddie said to his bandmates as they sat in their unofficial assigned seats in the cafeteria.

“Just because an older female authority figure agreed with you and shut down Carver, doesn’t mean you should crush on your teacher dude,” Gareth said, shaking his head at the absurdity of it all.

“Besides, you already have a crush,” Jeff added with a teasing smile, the metal on his teeth catching the fluorescent lights.

“Are you guys talking about my sister?” Dustin said while throwing his lunch tray on the table, taking a seat next to Eddie. The rest of his sheep following close behind.

“No-”

“Yes,” all three of the older Hellfire members said in unison.

Eddie shot them a look that would’ve shut them up if the metalhead’s pale cheeks weren’t tinted pink.

“Gross,” Dustin added.

Mike’s brows did their signature furrow under his dark bangs, “I don’t get it, why doesn’t he just ask her out?” he said, purposefully ignoring Eddie’s presence at the table.

“GROSS,” Dustin repeated, hoping the subject would change.

Eddie was right there with him, picking up a pretzel and hurling it at Mike’s head, “I’d rather not share the complexities of the friendship-to-relationship pipeline with a baby freshman. And I. Don’t. Like. Her.” He growled, punctuating each word with a pretzel.

The metalhead’s angry scowl melted off his face at the sound of your laugh echoing through the high ceilings of the cafeteria. You were standing near the entrance with your Wonder Woman lunchbox in tow, tilting your head back as you chuckled at something Robin Buckley told you.

That was until Jason and his entourage of goons followed him in.

He had that damn bag of peanuts in his hand, swinging it around mockingly. Eddie watched as you became tense, eyes wide and glossy. You are practically hiding behind a fuming Robin.

Before the blonde could hurl her trumpet case at the jocks, Eddie stepped up behind you both, placing a ring clad hand gently on the small of your back to let you know he was there.

With his hand grounding you, you finally found your voice, “seriously Jason, if I come into contact with a peanut I could die.”

“Oh come on,” Jason said through a chuckle, “you’re that much of a freak that a little peanut is enough to kill you? I think you might be overreacting just a little.”

“Actually,” Dustin said as he came over to stand next to Eddie, “Anaphylaxis is incredibly dangerous. Allergic reactions to the proteins found in peanuts are cause by immunoglobulin E antibodies and can trigger severe inflammation and-”

“Dude, even her brother is a fucking dork,” Andy spat.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that,” Eddie said, stepping forward. You have always admired his fierce determination when defending your brother and the other freshmen. It’s part of what drew you to him in the first place. But this time there was no snarky comeback to Jason’s bullying. The severity of the situation on top of the jocks’ disregard for your safety was just pissing him off, making him uncharacteristically no-nonsense.

The group of letterman jackets erupted in a chorus of ‘oooohs’. The leader just licked his lips, eyeing Eddie before smirking at you.

"You know, you might be pretty if you actually tried."

It doesn’t have the effect on you that Jason had hoped, you could care less if he thought you were pretty. But before your athletically inexperienced friends could take on the basketball team, you plastered on your best fake smile.

“Thanks Jason, see you guys later,” you said as you pulled your friends away leaving him confused and unsatisfied by your reaction.

“What the hell, you’re just going to let him talk to you like that?” your brother protested.

“He’s never going to change, Dustin. I might as well play into it since he’s just trying to get a rise out of us.”

You wave bye to Robin as she went to sit with her band friends, all of them decked out in their extravagant green and yellow uniforms. Eddie slid Dustin’s tray away from the spot next to him so you could set your lunchbox there and sit at his left hand side. Dustin was muttering something about losing his seat but still scooched down, knowing there was no use in fighting it. Eddie always had you right next to him.

The next few minutes of lunch went by rather smoothly. Groups of students were taken out sporadically to go to the photo room and get their yearbook club photo taken with Nancy. Occasionally, you’d catch Jason sending you angry glares but you just ignored him in favor of listening to your fellow Hellfire members. They were rambunctiously throwing out theories about tonight's campaign while Eddie just sat there with his version of a poker face, not willing to spoil anything with a teasing grin plastered to his mouth.

His eyes connected with yours, feeling you staring at him. The moment he looked at you you bashfully lowered your eyes to the cup of applesauce you were stirring around. Eddie kept his gaze on you until Nancy walked up behind him.

“Alright Hellfire, you’re up,” Nancy said with a smile.

This was the first year Hellfire club was getting any sort of recognition in the yearbook. Previously, the teachers and students didn’t want to draw any more eyes to the alleged cult and their leader. Now that Nancy worked for the school, she played a big part in securing a photo for her brother’s club in the yearbook. Even though Eddie never liked conforming to frivolous High School expectations, he still felt honored. It was his last year after all (hopefully) and he wanted to make his mark.

You and the rest of the Hellfire members left your things at the lunch table and walked out of the cafeteria for the yearbook room down the hall. Your open applesauce was forgotten about as you followed Eddie out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your shoulders were still buzzing after taking the photo. Eddie had thrown his leather clad arm around you, pulling you closer to him, while his other hand did the sign of the horns. The smell of his cologne and the texture of his battle vest overwhelmed you so much you hoped it didn’t show in the photo. Although, the smirk Nancy sent you tells you it might have.

You and the rest of Hellfire sat back down in your original seats, besides your leader. As expected, Eddie had a lot of things to say in honor of your club getting recognized so he opted to stay standing.

“Hear ye, hear ye! Rejoice, for this day shall be etched in the annals of history as a testament to our unwavering spirit and valor!”

Going back to your lunch, you scoop up the velvety applesauce to resume eating. Expecting the familiar taste of sweet and tart, you flinched at the salty crunch and swallowed it on instinct.

“Let it be known that we have weathered the raging storm of schoolyard bullies, and emerged victorious! Our banners flying high, unfurled in the winds of destiny,” Eddie continued, not noticing your trepidation.

You frowned at the tickle in your throat that only continued to build as you tried coughing discreetly. The rest of the boys grinned, believing this was your way of hinting at Eddie to wrap up his speech.

“Let us raise our voices in jubilation, for today, we have proven that nothing is insurmountable to those who believe in their cause!” Eddie looked to you, hoping to see you looking up at him and smiling that way you do whenever he uses his renaissance voice. Instead he met your panicked eyes.

“Hey Henderson,” Jason called from across the cafeteria. “What happens now? Should we call an ambulance?” Andy shoved at his shoulder playfully and chortled alongside Jason.

Panic gripped you as you connected the dots.

“Yeah,” you wheezed, “call an ambulance.”

Part 2

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mrsdarkandyandere7 · 3 months

Text

(Dark! LC) Loving You Hurts

Pairing: Dark Luke Castellan x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female reader

SUMMARY: When Luke's jealousy gets out of hand.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship.

“We’re having a party tonight. You should come.” the blonde-haired boy walked with you as you collected your breakfast in a tray.

“I don’t know, Sam, maybe.” you keep your answer short, opting not to indulge into the conversation.

Luke’s stare feels obvious despite the physical distance between you, your boyfriend already seated at a table.

“C’mon, you never really come by anymore, not ever since you got with Luke. I know Clarisse will be thrilled to see you again.” he looked at you with hopeful eyes and you felt bad, knowing you’re letting all of your friends down - hanging out with them less and less.

“Luke can come too. And Chris, if he wants to.”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your head. You seriously doubted Luke would want to go. Sam seemed satisfied enough and after giving you the time and place, he left.

Stress got trapped in your throat when you walked to the table, taking a seat.

“Who was that guy?” Luke asked you nonchalantly, his eyes following Sam as he walked away.

“Luke, you know him. He’s my friend.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

You sighed, fully aware of the interrogation he’s about to put you through. “Ares’ kid. One of Clarisse’s brothers.”

“What did he want?”

“Luke…”

“What? I’m just asking what he wanted.” he replies back, his eyes snapping at you with annoyance. “Now I can’t even ask what a strange guy had to say to my girlfriend?”

You stabbed the food in your plate, feeling your eyes becoming watery.

“He invited us to a party tonight.”

The scoff you received from Luke was loud enough to draw a few heads in your direction and you quickly captured a few slices of bacon, stuffing them in your mouth.

“Us? The way he was talking, it seems like he wanted to invite you. Since you’re his friend, right?” his voice had an edge to it, as if daring you to contradict but you stubbornly kept your attention to your food.

If you looked at him - at the angry frown he most certainly had on - you’d end up crying in front of everyone.

“Luke, please…” you supplicated, “Just let it go, please. I’m not going anyways, okay?”

He looked at you for a long moment, his brown eyes piercing through your soul as he took notice of the tears that were shining in your eyes. His gaze softened, hand reaching for yours.

“Okay.” he said, bringing your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it. “I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known that Luke’s jealous streak would never be able to just let something go.

Any hopes of forgetting the situation were shattered when in the next day a fight broke loose at the camp. And of course, Luke was at the epicenter.

You weren’t around but your siblings told how hard Luke punched Sam, which resulted in a broken nose and bloody mess.

And of course that defending your friend resulted in another argument between you and Luke.

“Luke, you’re overreacting.” you pleaded, wanting nothing more than tug on your hair with the despair you were feeling.

“No, you’re being naive. You’re not seeing it the way I see it.”

“I just- I don’t get why you had to do this, Luke!”

“He did this to himself.” he retorted, his hand clenching with anger. “He talked about you, you know? How you deserve someone better.”

Your throat went dry as you gulped. Luke took a step towards you, murderous anger plastered in his face.

“You say he’s just a friend, but I know he wants more than that.” he spited the words, inching closer to you. “He wants to take my place. To be the one you love. But I’m not gonna let that happen, okay?”

His words dimmed into a hushed whisper as he pressed his forehead against yours, his ragged breaths contrasting with your lack of breathing as you held your breath.

“Luke…”

“I won’t let you go. We’re meant to be together, I know it.” he pressed a light kiss on your hairline, ignoring the single tear that escaped your eye.

“And if I have to kill whoever gets in our way, then so be it.”

#@mrsdarkandyandere7 #yandere x reader #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #dark luke castellan #dark luke castellan x reader #yandere luke castellan #yandere luke castellan x reader

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janaispunk · 2 months

Note

jana hi me again 🫣 could i have the prompt 28 "No one ever cared about me like you."

with either javi p or joel 🫠❤️🤎

take my hand, wreck my plans

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

word count: 557

summary: Javi seeks out your company after a rough day.

tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, alcohol consumption, mention of food, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, idiots in love because of who i am as a person (let me know if i missed something!)

a/n: i have once again been possessed by angsty thoughts and somehow, this came out of it. i hope you like this eden @reddedmiller and i’m sorry that it took three months lol. thank you @catchallfangirl for beta reading 🫶🏻

dividers by @saradika-graphics as always because they’re the best <3

find my full masterlist here & follow @janaispunknotifs for fic updates :)

He knocks on your door at 2 in the morning, all but collapses into your arms as soon as you swing it open, tired eyes and heavy limbs that melt into your embrace.

Your colleagues had warned you when he started coming over to your desk, inviting you out for lunch, about how he would chew you up and spit you out, like he did with half of the female staff at the embassy. You hadn’t listened, waving them off and going out with him anyway. First for a quick lunch break, then for after work drinks, then for dinner.

It was fun, a distraction, something to do and someone to know in this city where everything was foreign to you and where you felt more alone than ever before in your life.

It’s more, now. It doesn’t have a definition exactly, but you both know it. You’re the person he turns to when he needs somebody, and you’ll gladly be that for him.

“Do you have something to drink?” His face is sullen as he slumps down on your couch, like the weight of the world crushed him today. You furrow your brow.

“When was the last time you ate something, Javi?”

“‘M not hungry,” he grumbles, confirming your suspicion that he most likely survived the day solely on cigarettes and coffee.

You lean over the couch, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders from behind. His head falls back against you like he can’t help himself.

“I’m gonna make you a sandwich and get you some whiskey, okay?” Inching closer, you press a gentle kiss against his neck, just below his ear.

He sits up a little straighter and turns to you, reluctance in his eyes.

“Querida, it’s the middle of the night, you don’t have to-”

You shake your head and kiss him again, on his cheek this time. “It’s okay. I want to.”

He leans back hesitantly but doesn’t seem to have the energy to fight you on it, so your lips find his face once more before you head for the kitchen.

Watching him all but devour the food has you hiding your smile behind your own glass of whiskey. He already looks a little better.

“Not hungry, huh?” you tease, your voice light.

“Shut up,” comes his short reply, but his lips are twitching.

He has half a mind to stumble out of your flat again afterwards, but you convince him to stay, that it’s really no problem.

He takes a quick shower, mumbling about washing the day away, and you wait in bed, the warm light from your bedside lamp illuminating the room, until he slips under the covers beside you.

You wrap your arms around him again and hold him close, your fingers drawing shapes on his chest. He clears his throat, shifting awkwardly.

“Thank you,” he eventually mumbles, his voice low in the darkness.

“Of course, Javi.” He tends to get like that, struggling to receive any kind of affection or care when he feels like he has nothing to give back.

He takes a deep breath and shakes his head. “No, seriously. No one ever cared about me like you. I- thank you.”

You sigh and pull him tighter into you, your face buried in his hair. You’ll care for him as long as he lets you.

thank you so much for reading! if you liked this, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment because they make me really happy 🤍

#janas fics #javier peña #narcos #narcos fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedrostories #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier pena fluff #javier pena angst #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena x female reader

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animexts · 3 months

Text

10 STEPS TO WIN OVER A GIRL | Megumi Fushiguro

Summary: Itadori discovers Megumi's passion for Y/n, and decides to help his friend by creating a list of 10 steps to win over a girl."

Paring: Megumi Fushiguro X Fem!Reader | WC: 1.161

A/N: I found these gifs on Pinterest guys, In the next chapters we will see our beloved Inumaki too, please tell me what you think of this, and if you want to be on the taglist for this series!

彡 masterlist

PROLOGUE | NEXT

Number one: Make her feel special

────────────────────

"Is this a good idea Itadori?" Megumi says feeling your cheeks hot.

"Obviously, you don't want someone else to get to it before you do, right?" Itadori says with his mouth full.

Fushiguro doesn't know if he's sickened by this, or by what he said, someone else? No, it couldn't happen.

"Alright, what's number one on your list?"

"Number one: make her feel special." Itadori says proudly and Fushigurou raises his eyebrows.

"What do you mean? I already do that!"

"No, you treat her the same way you treat all your other friends."

"If I don't treat her any different, how did you know I liked her?" Megumi says seriously, and Yuji's smile fell.

"Well, I..." Itadori scratches the back of his head, looking down.

"Say it!"

"Okay, I read your diary!" When Itadori says this, Megumi widens her eyes in disbelief.

Yes, he had a diary, but that was for those anxious moments when he couldn't talk to anyone.

"I'm going to kill you!" He says trying to pull Itadori who defends himself with a pillow.

"I'm sorry, I swear it wasn't because of taste, I thought it was just any book, but you have a great way with words, you know? Have you ever thought about writing a fanfic, a book or something?" Yuji says, smiling proudly and Megumi sighs, giving up on hitting him.

Yes, it looked like any other book just to try to avoid attracting the attention of onlookers.

Megumi sits on the bed, looking at the floor embarrassed.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't read it all." Itadori says, putting his hand on Megumi's shoulder, who slaps her.

"Fuck you!"

"Ah, come on Fushigurou, if I hadn't read it, I wouldn't be able to help you with this."

"You don't even know if it's going to work." Megumi says softly, closing her eyes.

"That's why you have to try, look, I'll be close all the time."

And he really was, that morning Itadori and Megumi were hands closer than ever, but Megumi decided to start her plan right after breakfast, during the training with Gojo sensei.

"Okay, this is your chance, tell her something." Itadori says pushing Megumi a little towards Y/n who is drinking water from a bottle.

Okay, let's go.

"Hey Y/n."

"Hey."

He says getting closer and feeling his heart speed up just seeing the girl of his dreams look at him and smile.

"I hope you don't do too bad in training today."

Okay, that was terrible, and he's sure of it when he sees Y/n's smile diminish. Itadori, who is a little far away, hits his hand on his forehead in frustration.

My God, this will be harder than it looks.

"Second attempt Fushigurou, try to get something else for her at lunch."

It was lunch time and Itadori and Megumi were in charge of getting lunch for everyone.

"Like what?"

"Look girls like Chocolate, bring her something sweet!"

And that's what he did, in addition to buying lunch, Megumi bought a very pretty little sweet that he saw made of walnuts.

"Do you think she'll like it?" Megumi says, analyzing the sweet in her hand.

"If she doesn't like it, you can give it to me." Itadori says jokingly.

Well, maybe Itadori shouldn't have said that, but I'll let you analyze the situation.

"Hey Y/n I brought it for you." Megumi says, handing the cupcake over to Y/n who takes it and smiles.

"Thanks, but I happen to be allergic to nuts-" Before she can finish this, Megumi snatches the cupcake out of her hand and shoves it into Itadori's hands, who He looks at him in disbelief.

"It's okay, Itadori wanted it anyway." He says and at that moment, Itadori just wanted to punch Fushigurou in the face.

Sukuna also wanted that when he saw this situation.

"Fushigurou, shall we go there quickly?" Itadori says, pulling hard on Megumi's arm.

"What happened?"

"What happened? You're treating her like she's your worst enemy, what's your problem?"

"I'm following your advice!"

"No no, you're distorting everything, even Sukuna is disgusted by it."

"Young people of this generation, if it were in my time, we would already be having children-" Itadori slaps Sukuna's mouth, which is on his cheek.

Oh shit, can the situation get any worse?

The answer is YES, it can get worse.

Like that same day while the first years had just exorcised some curses and Y/n said:

"Wow I'm so thirsty."

Itadori's eyes widen when he sees Fushigurou THROWING the water bottle at Y/n.

"Thank you?" She says looking at him who shrugs.

Damn...

Or maybe while they were getting back in the car and Fushigurou just...

"Kugisaki, you can sit in the front." Itadori says with the intention of making Fushigurou and Y/n sit together in the back.

"No, I sit in the front." Fushigurou says seriously, leaving Yuji completely incredulous.

"No, you sit in the back." Yuji says through his teeth trying to pull Fushigurou.

"I don't want to sit in the back!"

Everyone stays silent watching HOW MUCH FUSHIGUROU DOESN'T WANT TO SIT BEHIND.

DAMN!

"Alright Fushigurou, maybe you'll have a chance during dinner-"

"Come on Y/n, girls' night!" Nobara says, grabbing Y/n's wrist and pulling her to her room.

"No, you don't have any more chances today, but it's okay there are still nine numbers on my list, there's no way you can fail them all, right?" Itadori says, laughing nervously.

"Ah, what's my problem?" Fushigurou says with his hands on his face.

"I think you get a little nervous around her, but don't worry, anything we can ask Gojo sensei for help!" Itadori says excitedly and Megumi looks at him terrified.

"Anything but that, do you think she hates me Itadori?"

"Do you think he hates me, Kugisaki?" Y/n asks sitting on the bed.

"What? Who?" Nobara says, paying attention to her friend.

"Fushiguro."

"Well, he's a bit strange, but I don't think he hates you, who could hate you?" Nobara says getting irritated at the idea of someone hating Y/n.

"I don't know, I just... It seems like he doesn't like being around me." Y/n says laying down on the bed and looking at the ceiling.

"Well if he hates you, then I'll have to hate him too!"

#megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi Fushigurou x reader #itadori x reader #gojou satoru x reader #inumaki x reader #nobara kugisaki #jujutsu megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi

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flseur · 4 months

Text

꒰ 𐙚 memories — satoru gojo ꒱

⟡ synopsis : after a life-changing accident, yours and satoru's lives will never be the same. he's slowly beginning to forget you and soon, it will be as if your relationship never exisited.

⟡ content warning : gn!reader, angst, hurt no comfort

౨ৎ note : i've had idea in my google docs for over two years and it was originally for a genshin chara but i wanted to change it to satoru!

when you had first heard what had happened, you hardly could believe it. some kind of weird illness that he’s suffering from after the accident. you had made it out with barely a scratch while god just continues to deal the worst hand to satoru.

survivors' guilt? no, because he’s still alive and he’s still himself, but he’s not himself.

you know that soon, instead of having love and adoration swell in his cerulean eyes, there will be nothing. not a thought about who you are, not a single memory about you.

the doctor described it as his brain resetting. he’s going to eventually lose all of his memories, including the ones before you.

everyone that knows of his condition isn’t taking it well, they’re all trying to spend as much time with him before he fades, but what about you?

you’ve never left his side since, you’ve accompanied him to every doctor's appointment, listened to all the specialists say the inevitable is going to happen and it just feels like they’re rubbing salt into an open wound.

the two of you have talked about it, terrified for the near future. years of memories that the two of you took the time to piece together like a puzzle will become one-sided. each hello, goodbye, kiss shared, spending friday nights together in your shared apartment, the hours spent together with your limbs intertwined, will all be erased.

as the months progressed, the more of satoru’s memories regressed. you both decided it would be best if he moved back in with his family, leaving you alone in a once warmth filled home to be an empty, cold shell.

initially, satoru would be the one to suggest that the two of you should visit places where the two of you have been together.

the park where you had your first date, the bookstore where you had your first kiss with each other, hiding behind the dozens of bookshelves with you giggling and satoru whispering teasing words into the shell of your ear.

eventually, the daily calls would stop. you would reach out by calling or texting and asking him if he’d want to eat dinner at the restaurant that the two of you ate at for your second anniversary and the reply would always be the same,

“sorry y/n, i’m just not up for it right now.”

the next time you called after that, there was no answer. the second time, still no answer. the third time, someone picked up.

“hey, i’m sorry but i think that you’ve been calling the wrong number.” a voice that was on the other side of the line. except there was no love in his words, no familiarity of warmth laced through his words. they were cold. empty. this was not your satoru.

“what? no? satoru, i don’t have the wrong number..”

“how do you know my name?”

“how do I know your name? satoru, we’re enga—-”

“ah, listen. i don’t know what kind of sick prank you think this is but please stop calling me. seriously, this is really uncomfortable. goodbye.”

oh.

so it happened.

he forgot.

satoru doesn’t remember you anymore. you knew it was going to happen, but you still had some sick, twisted maybe even selfish hope, that if he was going to forget everything, he’d at least be able to remember you.

unfortunately, life doesn’t work that way.

“life is unfair.” is what you thought after that moment. for months after that moment. it flooded every inch of your mind, coupled with the now one-sided memories you had with satoru.

but, you’re starting to heal, you’re starting to come to terms with it after nearly 12 months.

today, your therapist said that the next step for you should be visiting the places that you’ve been avoiding. every place that you had a memory with satoru with. so you decided that you’d visit the park.

you turn the corner to enter it and come face to face with geto.

“oh? geto? how have you been?” you ask.

geto looks around nervously, like he’s trying to search for something.

“i’ve been good, y/n. i was actually just thinking about you. let’s, uh, let’s go get a cup of coffee, it’s on me. we can catch up more there and talk about sa—-”

“suguru?”

you know that voice. the voice that had once told you that he loved you over a thousand times. the voice that would whisper you sweet nothings, the voice that caused heat to run all over your body. you freeze on the spot, already feeling your eyes sting with tears.

“whose this?” gojo asks, looking towards you. his face holds no recollection of who you are whatsoever.

“shit.” geto swears under his breath. “this is, um, this is my friend, y/n.”

“hello, it’s nice to meet you. i’m gojo, suguru’s close friend.”

you purse your lips, continuing to try and hold back tears.

“oh, i almost forgot,” satoru says.

and you look up into his eyes, with the smallest glimmer of hope that he’ll remember you. who you are, what you mean to him, the love you held for each other. god, please remember me, please.

“this is my fiancée, yume.”

#𐙚 works #jujutsu kaisen #satoru x reader #satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo x reader angst #x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #angst

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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months

Text

Please, Stand by [dark!Ghost x fem!Reader x dark!Soap]

You woke up in your captor's apartment. Turns out, getting out of the grasp of two trained special forces soldiers isn't exactly an easy task.

TW and tags: non-con to dub-con, size difference, power imbalance, fingering, hurt/comfort(but it comes from the ones who hurt you), yandere, dark!141, possessive 141, obsessive 141, kidnapping. AO3

Simon never slept this well on leave.

Always something happening – Soap breathing too loudly in their fucking bed, nightmares getting too wild even with as many meds as he could possibly take, neighbors behaving as if he wouldn’t be able to bloody shoot ‘em all and get away with it – he never enjoyed sitting at this place without a purpose, as much as he enjoyed not having to buy the whole space for himself. Johnny was really making things stir up a little around here – but it wasn’t enough. Never.

Ghost found himself dumbfounded this exact morning, though – he gave up the space in the bedroom for you and Soap, knowing that the Scotsman has a much smoother way with women, and they don’t want to scare you too much. Poor thing, you’re already terrified of them – this won’t do, they aren’t monsters. A bit forceful, yes, but men in this position don’t exactly have much time for courting – and it's not like you’d agree to relationships with four of them at the exact same time if you really had a choice. Just means they have to take the choice away from you. Hell, he even thought of preparing your breakfast in bed – something that he never thought of doing. You were so good for him, for Soap, so nice and obedient, he almost forgot it was all because of the alcohol – not because you really wanted them so badly. Ghost isn’t a stranger to hookups and dates at random pubs where he could afford to not take his mask off – but it’s the first time he liked a girl so much. The first time he really wanted to just take you and… *** You woke up somewhere around noon. The aftermath of your hangover still lingered in the fog in your head as you were desperately trying to cling to consciousness. You wanted to throw up. You wanted to curl down and cry. You wanted to…

Ah, you’re finally awake. Good for you.

The first thing that you feel is nausea. You already threw up at night, it’s evident by the stale taste of bile in your mouth – but you still feel like turning your stomach upside down and shaking it a little.

The second thing you feel is a heavy hand on your waist. It’s muscly, hairy, covered in scars and burn marks – you don’t think that a man with hands like this would be at your taste for one-night stands. You don’t think you ever had a hookup session with a random person you didn’t even know, but whoever is clinging to your body like you’re a teddy bear has another opinion about acting all lovey-dovey with their playthings for the night. You try to worm your way out of the grasp, but the guy only tightens it.

— Don’t move, lassie. I knew how ye feel.

You seriously doubt that.

— Where am I?

Your voice is raspy, in desperate need of water. You don’t want to beg them for this, so you just bite your lips, hoping your voice doesn’t sound too pathetic. You’d kill for a bottle of water right now.

— In yer home.

— This is not…

— It will be, hen. Dinnae havta worry ‘bout that okay?

Guy – Soap, you remember, heard when the other guy, the second guy, was talking to him. Like you weren’t even fucking there like you didn’t have a say in the situation. You feel a trail of sloppy kisses landing on your neck, and your shoulders – damp skin is sweaty under the touches. You feel sluggish like you usually do on a hungover – like you usually do after a really nice girl's night out.

Soreness between your legs makes you choke on your tears. You don’t want to cry, not in the presence of your captors. Not when all the memories you have is how soft they tried to be. How much did your alcohol-dazed mind like it. The thrill of them knowing all of your special buttons without you ever having to ask – you hate them, you want to hate them, you need to hate them. But you’re thirsty, hungry, your head hurts, you feel like shit, and they still didn’t beat you yet.

The survival instinct comes to life when you hear the door opening.

You struggle out of his grasp – thankfully, the guy is sleepy, he didn’t put up much of a fight. You manage to get out and fall on the fluffy carpet, surprisingly nice for a place where two rough looking bachelors are living. You don’t have enough time to think about the texture of the carpet, as you scramble on your feet and run.

Fuck this, fuck everything, fuck trying to be soft and obedient – they don’t care about showing their faces and names to you, that you can just run to the police. Probably means they are going to kill you right after the cuddling session – and you’d rather be traumatised than dead. You think. Probably. Maybe.

In your struggle, you didn’t even think of thinking that if the door is opening, it means that someone will be standing on the other side – or the apartment is extremely haunted.

It wasn’t extremely haunted. Your cheek is flattened against a broad chest. A pair of hands that smell of tobacco and leather are forcing you into this perverse version of a hug, leaving you without any chance of getting out. All of your attempts at screaming are left with nothing but weird bubbly sounds as you struggle to breathe. You don’t want to panic, but, hell, you feel like you’re going to fucking die.

Price had just seen the most beautiful woman of his life.

With tears running down her cheeks, messy makeup, and even messier hair. She is wearing Soap’s T-shirt, which isn’t ideal, but no one is perfect, and even the prettiest girl out there has her flaws. She is crying and panicking, and she looks so bloody fantastic with her arse showing every time she tries to wiggle her way out of his grasp, and he doesn’t want to behave too brutally, but he wants to see the marks from his fingers grasping her wrists. He knew he saw you yesterday, fucked you yesterday. Held your hair as you were throwing up and forcing yourself to stop fucking vomiting all over the place – but you’re even prettier now, in the dim morning sun. Crying and struggling in his grasp, he can’t wait to share you with others – he knows Kyle would love fucking that tight arse of yours. Price would get a kick out of making you his stupid girl.

And they, well, they will always have a special treatment reserved just for you. Gosh, you’re beautiful. Ghost knows why they had to take you.

— Quiet, luv. Quiet. Calm down. — Let me…fuck you, let me go! You push at his chest, and the only thing he feels is the way his dick starts throbbing in his pants again. Gods, you’re fucking beautiful – much, much prettier than any girl he fucked through his life. So feisty once you’re sober, he knows how much fun you’re having in store for them once you’ve regained at least part of your strengths. — I will fuck you. Later.

— No! — Now, if you insist on yelling so much. He gently forces you closer, his hand slipping to cup your arse. You feel divine in his arms – he doesn’t know how Soap manages to steady himself and not fuck you right in the car. He did make you suck his dick, but it obviously wasn’t enough – and won’t be, with how much you struggle now when the alcohol finally wears off. Ghost gives your ass a little squeeze, then – a few slaps, just to make sure you’re nice and obedient for them. You obviously haven’t worn panties under Johnny’s shirt, easy access doing easy accessing, and so when he finally managed to slip his fingers in your cunt, he was pleased to find out it was soaked. — You’re wet, luv. Can’t get more ready than this.

You whimper in his chest, still terrified. He supposed you should be – he is wearing the mask, not wanting to scare you with his scars and intense gaze. Skull balaclava isn’t doing a good job at making you calmer, but…well, he can try to think about something. Soap had already shown you his face, and it’s not like you’re going anywhere. They would catch you faster than you could run to the local authorities – as much as you would love to think otherwise. Prey aren’t known for their wits, after all. — Pl…please, just let me go. Please? I won’t…

— Won’t tell anyone?

— Yes! Please, I…I need to work. I have a shift in the… — You went to a pub before your shift?

You sob, your little excuses clearly aren’t working. Ghost brushes his rough fingers among your folds, the stimulation on your pussy making you shiver. He knows you’re sore, his dick isn’t exactly tiny – you need some more orgasms to calm down, maybe get you nice and relaxed for them. If he knows his sergeant, he already got a word out to the rest of the team – and although Ghost really, really wants to just take you with them and share you as their little duo, Gaz and Captain deserve to have something nice too. Deserve to have someone nice.

Ghost pulls his fingers out as soon as your whimpers turn into moans. He wants you nice and wet, but he needs you to beg for it. To recognize that the only way you’ll get anything around here is through obedience and behaving like a cute kitten, they decided to scoop from the streets. Not exactly a subtle look, but he can spell it out for you later. Make their shared dumb girl just a bit less dim. Maybe teach you a few manners – you don’t start a conversation with your captors from curses, for example.

— Please. I…I have a family.

Uh-oh.

Tough shit, Ghost thinks.

It would have worked in Private Riley – before he got into captivity himself before he got almost killed. Before he has lost everything he ever loved – and before he found a family in people who have the wondrous ability to enable his worst and best traits at the same fucking time. If you were a bit less weak, a bit more resilient if you didn’t cry as much and reminded him of himself in the past – who knows, you could have pulled at his heartstrings.

But Lieutenant Ryley wants a girl to warm up his bed, and the beds of his comrades – and he knows you would do just perfect. So, he scoops you in his arms, like a disobedient kitten, and puts you in a place where, as he knows, all misery dies and the place where he is crawling every time he falls a bit down.

He pushes you back to Soap’s bed.

You cry even more when two beefy hands force you into a tight hug – Johnny is still half-asleep, and his growly sleepy voice makes your hair stand at ends. You hate them, you despise them, you feel like you’re going to fucking die rather than fall asleep in their embrace again, but Soap kisses your neck and whispers something in your ear – something accented, deep, no doubt dirty. Something that makes you whimper again and again, something that…god, you feel like a slut.

You rub your thighs together, trying to chase the heat away, but you only feel warmer. It never gets easier, you suppose – never gets just palatable enough.

— Simon scared ye, bonnie?

Johnny smiles when you only whimper, your desire to feel the warmth of another person making you fall right into the guy. It’s not something you’re proud of – Jesus Fucking Christ, you just snuggle with your kidnapper – but you need something to just feel…normal. Like hugs after a really good hookup. Like you just found someone to date and to kiss and to be in a proper relationship with.

You whimper instead of answering, and you hear the Scot chuckling again, his grip on you getting tighter. He is like a koala – and you feel pretty…fine in his grasp. You’re too scared to get feisty because you already tried, and it just returns you to point A. The starting dot. The first page of your miserable journey opens with a tight hug and the smell of breakfast cooking. Burning. Cursing through a thick English accent, you could hear something in the kitchen getting absolutely blasted – in a negative sense.

— I’m not scared of you.

He laughs again. You can smell something burning, and you hope that the second guy – the scary guy – will set the entire apartment on fire and kill everyone inside, including you.

— Ye shouldn’t be. We will take care of ye.

— I will run as soon as I can.

— Lt could break your legs. I could break your legs.

You sob again, but Soap doesn’t rush to comfort you. You need to get this through your skull – you’re not resisting them without consequences. You’re not running away without them catching and punishing you. You will not as much as step out of this bed without their permission – even if they’d have to haul you to the bathroom themselves while you’re kicking and screaming. You deserve to get knocked down a peg about the subject of you actually having rights – and you deserve to be calmed down later, once they think you have been punished enough. — I just want to go home.

— Cannae do that, lassie.

— Are you going to kill me?

— Not if yer obedient.

You hear the sound of something hitting a glass bowl. Then – gulps of liquid are poured into the same bowl. The burning have stopped, making you think that whatever the skull guy tried to cook, is getting thrown out of the balcony now – you almost smile trying to picture the burly man in a cute apron, desperately begging for the eggs to stop burning and turning into a crisp. You could cook for yourself, but…well, they probably won’t let you use the knife.

— Are you going to rape me again?

You are pulled into a much closer hug. Johnny’s dick poking at your ass, making you shiver in his hold – making you try to get out as fast as possible and failing miserably. You have suggested that the guy was a part of something illegal – maybe a mafia reinforcer, the dweller of those weird candy shops that were opened throughout the country, but you caught a glimpse of some camouflage in the dresser when Simon was taking off his clothes…they are in the military. Maybe, it’s even worse than you initially thought – no way anyone will believe you over them. No way you will win a fight against them.

— We weren’t raping ye, bonnie, Just…taking what ye really needed.

You came harder under them than you ever did under any of your boyfriends or from your fingers. You feel pathetic because his eyes are innocent and cute, and you don’t want to make them hurt you again. You don’t answer.

— We’ll take care of ye. Just keep yer arse in place and don’t resist, aye?

You can’t do anything but nod. Don’t want to do anything but nodding.

He smiles at your neck again. Kisses you again. Ray of shivers run down your tummy.

Ghost showed up in the bedroom again, holding a bowl of honey cereal. You are hungry – you need something to soak up the alcohol, and you’d want something greasy and terrible, or maybe a soup and tea later – but the cereals are better than whatever was slowly getting burned on the stove.

They could drug you – then again, it feels like you’d prefer being unconscious anyway.

— Price will be there in an hour. Got his call.

The Scot being you, curses under his breath, his hands finally letting you go. You took the bowl and started to eat, as quickly as you could.

A hand slips over your waist, steadying you.

— We’ll make her presentable, aye?

You don’t want to be presentable, but something in their voices are telling that you don’t have a choice.

#cod #cod x reader #yandere cod #yandere ghost #yandere soap #soap x reader #ghost x reader #dark ghost #simon ghost riley #soap #john soap mactavish #soap mw2 #141 x reader #yandere #male yandere #yandere male

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xxbottlecapx · 8 months

Text

I saw someone talk about this idea (can’t find them now) so-

Steve is walking down the street and he hears the jingling of a dog collar so he turns around to ask to pet their dog but it’s just Eddie.

Steve might have a meltdown. He seriously might. This was the worst day he’s had in a long fucking time.

The day started with a fucking seizure, of all things, when Steve hasn’t had one in months, so he decided to go to the emergency room to get checked up just in case.

The doctors said he was fine, the scans and blood tests came back just as normal, but he ended up missing lunch so he didn’t get to have down time with his best friend Robin, and she was the biggest reason he could manage his anxiety and PTSD.

His mom called him when he was at the hospital, even though she disowned him ten years ago when he was forced out of the closet as bisexual. He thought she wanted to talk but apparently her husband (Steve’s father, unfortunately) was dying and wanted Steve to help with the hospital bills considering apparently their business went under, which Steve hadn’t known about because he hasn’t seen them in ten years. It led to a fight over the phone which triggered another seizure, so he’s had two in one day. Because of his history with seizures, the hospital decided to let him go, which he wasn’t entirely sure would be a good idea, but what else were they supposed to do? It’s not like Steve knew. Besides, he’s pretty sure they were understaffed and maybe they just didn’t have a place for him. They just gave him some painkillers, gave him a form so he wouldn’t have to go to work for a week, and let him go after giving him an IV. Steve would have argued about the work thing, but the doctor was able to convince him that having a bad seizure in front of a bunch of toddlers might be a bad idea, even if they’ve dealt with his smaller ones before.

He decided he would go for a run because that always relaxes him before remembering that he shouldn’t go running after having two seizures, so he decided to go for a walk instead. Of course, this only makes things worse for himself. First, he forgets to take his dog Farrah with him on the walk, and then he realizes that he’s wearing a thick knitted yellow sweater in 86 degree heat, also he lost his glasses somehow?

He must have still had some postictal confusion left because he very quickly got lost and then he couldn’t find wherever the fuck he put his phone, so he couldn’t call Robin to pick him up, and it’s not like his anxiety would let him walk up to some random person and ask.

It was getting dark, so he wasn’t going to approach a woman, which was something Robin had to teach, and Steve was kind of scared of men, which might be stupid because he was a man, and also taller than most men, but anxiety is a bitch so it’s not like he could argue with it.

His heart beating outside his chest, Steve realized he very well could have a third seizure, or a panic attack if he didn’t calm the fuck down, so he went to hide behind a alley which just so happened to be behind a bar.

That was fine.

The music was dampened by the concrete wall and sometimes silence made Steve’s existential dread even worse. He missed his dog. Farrah was a white teacup chihuahua and Pomeranian mix that Steve had adopted from a shelter he had been volunteering at. She kept getting bullied for her size even when they put her in with the other babies, and the shelter asked someone to foster her. It was a foster fail but Steve didn’t regret it.

Steve tried to think of her as he sat down, working on the deep breathing his therapist had told him about. Of course, Steve sat on the floor and got beer and gunk on his jeans, but he was so tired that he was past caring.

A migraine was coming on, all of his bones hurt, and he had white spots dancing in his vision. His hands were shaking. It’s very possible he had a small seizure when he was getting here and he didn’t remember it, that happened sometimes. He really hoped Robin had done okay at school without him. They taught a kindergarten class together. He really should have called to get her an aid but it had slipped his mind and she was going to be pissed.

He would just stay on the floor until he felt better. Then he’d call and apologize.

He did remember to feed Farrah and she had some pads on his living room so she would be okay. When he got home he would give her a lot of treats. Maybe he would make Robin cupcakes.

Steve’s nerves picked up when he heard someone open a door behind him. Luckily for him, he had a switchblade in his pocket (he got it from Max, and who knows where she got it from) so he could use that in case of an emergency if anyone tried to accost him. Then again, this was a bar, maybe they’d just think he was drunk and leave him alone.

The jingling of a dog tag gets Steve’s attention, and suddenly he thinks he might actually cry if he doesn’t get to pet this dog right now.

The person’s heavy footsteps get closer, the dog chain making cute clinking sounds, and Steve readily looks up to ask, even though his face is already red with embarrassment, because what if the person says no?

But then he sees the man’s thick-heeled boots, and then his leather jacket with all the metal spikes on the shoulders, and Steve thinks no, he doesn’t have to ask to pet the guys dog, and then he chokes when he realizes there isn’t any fucking dog. The man is wearing a collar.

Steve tries to quickly shove his head between his legs, curl into a ball so the man might not notice him, but whatever sound he makes is enough to draw the guy's attention. Fuck.

“Hey, what were you going to say? I saw you try to ask something.” The guys crouches down in front of Steve. Steve assumes the guy is going to beat him up for looking at him weird or something, but the man’s voice, while deep, is actually very calm. He has a few more chains hanging from his black jeans, which were absolutely shredded, and the clinking noise still reminds Steve of Farrah but now he’s embarrassed about it. Is he wearing fishnets under his jeans? Oh my god, Robin is going to kill Steve in the morning if this guy doesn’t kill him first.

Steve thinks about answering but his words get clogged in his throat. Sure, he didn’t ask to pet the guy, but he thought about it, and his face burns and Steve wishes he could jump into the dumpster a few feet away.

He must look weird, because the guy, already crouching down to him, gets closer until their knees are touching.

“Hey, you okay?” He asks, very gently putting a heavily ringed hand on Steve’s arm.

“I’m so sorry,” Steve sobbed, finally lifting his head to meet the guy's face. The dude’s hair is long, held up in a ponytail, which shows off the fact that he has an undercut with a pattern shaved on it. This man is absolutely terrifying, oh my God, how is Steve going to get out of this situation without dying?

The guy's eyes widen at the words, but he keeps his movements slow as he places his hands against both of Steve’s trembling arms. Not constricting him, just pressing, just adding a bit of pressure.

“You’re okay, I’m not angry.” The guy says soothingly, “You haven’t done anything. Why- why are you crying?” The guy’s voice goes high pitched, cracking a little. If Steve wasn’t so terrified, maybe he’d find it comforting.

Steve doesn’t know what comes over him. He tells himself he’ll come up with something stupid, but his body hurts and lying takes a mental energy that Steve doesn’t have right now. His head pounds and the sound of his blood rushes past his ears.

“Uh, I heard your collar and I thought you were a dog.” He whispered, putting his head between his knees again. “I was gonna ask to pet you. I’m so sorry.” He sounds absolutely mortified, which is good because he is. Why was he saying this? Steve was about to die and then Farrah would go back to the shelter and Robin would find another teacher and forget about him and no one would be able to teach Dustin to drive because he’s too annoying to keep a normal driving instructor-

“You can pet me, if you want.” The guys interrupt Steve’s spiral. He moves so he’s sitting next to Steve, both their backs to the wall, his chains clinking all the while until their thighs are touching. Steve could briefly feel the dull spikes on the guys jacket pressing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s brain completely blanks out.

“…Uh-“ his hands are close to his chest, in fists, but mostly he’s just confused. Why is this guy being so nice to him? Steve thought he was a dog. He was never going to live this down.

“I like petting.” The guy says, a small smirk on his face that brings charming wrinkles to his cheeks. Steve blushes.

“Ca….” He can’t tell if the guy is serious, but the dude quickly pulls his hair out of his ponytail, shaking his head- like a dog.

Maybe it’s just the seizure talking, but Steve tries to call his bluff.

“Can I pet you?” Steve whispers, confusion and uncertainty lacing his shaking voice.

“Yeah.” The dude replies calmly, tilting his head.

Well, Steve realizes, now he kind of has to, doesn’t he? Shit. The guys hair looks really fucking soft. Steve’s allowed to touch it?

Without knowing what else to do, Steve stiffly pats the guys on the head, which makes the guy laugh. Still, he doesn’t attempt to make Steve stop. In fact, he gets closer, until Steve’s arm is wrapped around his shoulder, playing with the hair on the crown of his head. Steve doesn’t really know what to do at first, but the dude smells really minty, but also like weed, and Steve doesn’t hate it as much as he thinks he should. He brushes his fingers through the guy's brown hair until there are no knots, letting his heart settle until the spots in his vision go away.

“So, what are you doing out here?” The guy asks quietly, letting Steve mess with his hair, his eyes are closed almost like he’s enjoying it.

“I got lost.” Steve starts. The guy hums, so Steve continues. “I, uh, I had a few seizures this morning, and I got confused and got lost and I can’t find my phone or my glasses-“ Steve only realizes he’s rambling when the guy gives him a very concerned look.

“Do I need to get you to a hospital?” He asks, clearly trying not to frighten Steve.

“Oh? No, no, it’s okay, I’m sorry,” Steve said, almost absently as he braided a small strand of the guy's hair. He tried to focus on that instead of the raging headache he has crawling up his spine. “I went to the emergency room already, this is normal, it happens a lot, it’s just been a bad day. I’m sorry.”

He can feel the guy nod, his body relaxing slightly. His hand casually moves to touch Steve’s collar with the tips on his fingers, his short nails painted black.

“Your glasses are on your shirt.”

Steve looks down where his glasses were hanging off the collar of his sweater. He blanches.

“Shit, thank you. I’m sorry.” He mumbled, hurriedly putting them on. His face goes hot, and he wants to sink into the floor. He might cry again, he was so embarrassed.

“Can you call someone?” The guy asks, not bringing up the panic on Steve’s face, which Steve is mighty grateful for because bringing it up will make him cry, he thinks.

Steve shakes his head, “I lost my phone. Sorry.” He chokes out.

“Can I call someone?” The guy specifies.

That’s a really good idea. Sure, it’s getting dark, but Robin always has time for him. She’s probably out of work and blowing up his phone trying to contact him. She might even have broken into Steve’s apartment by now.

Steve closes his eyes, trying to push past the fog in his brain. The only thing it does is add pressure to the backs of his eyes.

“I… I can’t remember any numbers right now, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He puts his hand over his mouth to stop himself from speaking.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The guy delicately pressed his palm to Steve’s shoulder, which draws attention to the fact that Steve’s breathing has sped up again.

Steve gulps, blinking hard to stop himself from tearing up. He feels so fucking stupid.

“Uh, with chronic seizures, there’s this thing, called a- uh, postictal state,” he tries to explain, voice way more breathy than he would like. He’s gripping maybe a bit too firmly to the frayed ends of the guy’s hair but he makes no move to stop him. “Which I like to say just means my brain hasn’t, hasn’t caught up to my body, like it’s, um, still processing.“

The guy nods, taking Steve’s rambling with grace. “Do you like champurrado?” He asks, Steve opens his mouth, closing it, opening it again. The guy nods, hurrying to explain himself.

“We could go to my apartment and I could make you some. You look like you could eat. I made albondigas yesterday. When you can remember, we’ll call someone.”

Steve really shouldn’t. This guy has already been too nice to him. Steve didn’t want to impose. Also, the guy was very kind, yeah, but Robin would kill him if he got hurt following this dude somewhere. But then Steve takes stock of the aches in his body. If he didn’t go with the guy, what would he do? Sit here all night? It was going to get cold and Steve’s anxiety wouldn’t let him sleep outside in the dark in an alleyway behind a bar playing very loud, aggressive metal music.

Steve sighs, defeated. “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry.” He felt like he was doing something wrong.

The guys smile brightly, almost blindingly so. He stands, chains jingling, and holds out a hand for Steve to take it.

“You gotta stop saying sorry, man, you just had what, two seizures? It’s fi- holy shit.”

The man’s hands were soft, which Steve wasn’t expecting, save for a few well placed calluses on his fingers. Steve tried not to think about it as he stood and wiped some gunk off his jeans, staring at the messy floor before figuring out something was wrong. He looked up, and the dude was staring up at Steve with his eyes wide, mouth agape.

“What? What’s wrong?” Steve whispers, folding in on himself a little. What the fuck did he do now?

The music rages on, but now it’s overwhelming. He feels static in his head.

The guy’s heavily tattooed arms were held limply at his sides, “You- you’re really fucking tall.” He says unabashedly.

Steve gulps, trying to shrink a little to make himself smaller, like that may alleviate the problem. Unfortunately, thought he did this often, It did mean he had terrible posture so his neck began to hurt.

“Oh, I’m really sorry.” Steve wouldn’t look at him.

“Why are you apologizing? It’s hot.” The guy says, Steve’s head shoots up to look at him as they stare at each other until the dude realizes what he just said. “Wait, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” The guy puts his hands up, a nervous huff coming out past his lips as he was the one to start panicking now.

Steve can’t help but let out a small laugh, covering his mouth with his hands. He’s never had someone say he’s hot in such a way, he couldn’t help but be a bit flattered. Steve nods so the dude knows he isn’t upset by the random comment. Steve’s face was already red, and now he couldn’t even tell why.

The guy’s eyes brighten, if that were possible.

“Okay, let’s go. I’m Eddie.” He says, motioning for Steve to follow him. It takes a second for Steve to get the memo, with how slow his brain is working, so Eddie cautiously takes Steve’s arm in the way Steve watches men do in old movies.

“I’m Steve. Thank you.” Steve, honest to God, giggled. Maybe he should be worrying about his dad and the fight he had with his mother, but he tries not to think about it. They’re not his problem, and he has better things to do.

He does have to look down to see Eddie’s face when they’re not sitting, but that’s normal for Steve. He’s a few heads taller than most people he knows, and he works with kids so he’s obviously taller than them. He kind of just forgets, most of the time. No one else has mentioned it. His height was why he was so popular in high school before the seizures and anxiety messed it all up, though Steve is grateful he isn’t a bitch anymore. He’s only about a head and a half taller than Eddie, though.

Eddie laughs, and it’s a cracky, beautiful sound. “You’re welcome, big boy.”

Steve squints at Eddie as he leads him down the street. “Big boy?” He asks. As they get farther from the bar, there are less and less people out on the streets. No one jostles Steve, though, probably on account of the guy next to him, covered head to toe in spikes with black eye makeup.

“Really? Do you not see how large you are?” Eddie continued, looking up at Steve like he was insane as he led him to the left, then the right. “It’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Me?” Steve wasn’t scary, this guy had it wrong. Sure, he was big, but nothing about him was frightening. Steve couldn’t remember the last person he met who actually looked afraid of him. None of his students ever were.

“Yeah, you!”

“I’m not scared.” Steve protested, though he was also smiling. “If anything, you’re scary.”

Eddie throws his head back dramatically, covering his face with his curly hair. The bandana in his back pockets whips around.

“Why thank you.” Eddie grins, “Just so you know, flattery works on me.” He continued until they got to what appeared to be Eddie’s apartment building. Steve held on to his arm tighter. Eddie's dramatics calm him a little.

“I have a dog, so you can pet a real one.” Eddie teases, unlocking the door with his free arm. “Her name is Ozzy, she’s a Doberman Great Dane mix, so I hope big dogs don’t scare you. I promise she’s not violent.” There’s something in his voice that tells Steve there’s something else.

Steve smiles softly, “She sounds perfect.”

#steve harrington #steddie #eddie munson #steve x eddie #steveddie #eddie x steve #stranger things #stranger things s4 #robin buckley #steve has seizures #meet cute #or meet ugly #depending #depending on how you look at it #modern au

912 notes · View notes

palioom · 10 months

Text

movie night

summary: you finally have some alone time with joel, but when you fall asleep during the movie you're watching, he's getting some ideas

pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader word count: 4.0k warnings:18+ content; no use of y/n (but a lot of nicknames) ; some swearing; unprotected p in v; oral (m receiving); possibly dubcon; somnophilia; thigh riding; pre-outbreak!joel

• masterlist •

She had laughed as she had settled down with him, her cheek resting on his soft belly.

“You sure you won’t fall asleep?” Joel had asked, taking the remote to start the movie, his free hand in her hair. “I won’t carry you upstairs again, sweetheart.”

She had turned to look up at him, mock seriousness on her features instead of her bright smile.

“Do I look like I’ll fall asleep?”

Looking down at her, his mouth had twisted into an upside down smile.

Truth be told, she had looked tired, eyes small but still twinkling. Who could have blamed her, after a long day? After a long week.

He hadn’t replied, his sudden, big grin enough to let her know what he was thinking and prompting her to turn back again, her hand on his thigh.

That had been a good 30 minutes ago.

Joel only noticed that she had fallen asleep when he asked her to pass him the bowl of chips sitting on the table in front of them.

Thought she was ignoring him when he asked again and she didn’t budge.

Sometimes she liked to ignore him to tease him, giggling when he squeezed or slapped her ass when his patience was wearing thin.

That’s when had heard her deep, soft sigh, felt her adjust herself just a little on him, pressing her cheek further into his stomach.

“Do I look like I’ll fall asleep?” He whispered with a chuckle, imitating her voice and brushing away some hair from her forehead.

Taking the remote from beside him, he adjusted the volume of the movie, not wanting the loud action scenes to wake her.

She looked peaceful like this, and so fucking gorgeous.

Lips slightly parted as another breathy sigh left her, hand inching just a little higher on his jeans.

Too close to where he already felt his cock twitching, shifting his hips on the sofa, careful not to wake her.

When she had come over earlier today, with Sarah at a sleepover at one of her friends’, he had hoped to being able to bury himself deep inside her pussy, whether in his bed or on the couch, he hadn’t minded.

Fuck, he shouldn’t have said yes to the movie.

Should’ve just gone straight upstairs and taken off those tiny shorts she wore.

Barely covering her round ass.

He had spent quite some time trying not to think about how he had wanted to fuck her wet mouth, feel her pretty lips stretched around him and hear her gag.

How her eyes would be all glassy as she looked up at him through her lashes.

Tried not to think about her sweet, tight pussy around his hard cock, bending her in half as she cried out for him, clawing at his back.

He groaned, trying to stay quiet when his cock hardened in his jeans, already uncomfortable against the zipper.

Rubbing a hand over his face, head thrown back against the backrest of the sofa, he tried to stop his thoughts.

It had been a while since they had time for themselves, with Sarah around and her busy work schedule, things didn’t always work out for more than a small date or a quick dinner over at his place.

He knew that she had really wanted this too.

Fuck, she had teased him about this all week.

“Gonna ride you so hard you won’t be able to feel your back for a week, Miller.”

“If you don’t fuck my brains out so I can’t even remember my own name I’ll just fuck off and leave.”

Her way of teasing, breathy and right in his ear.

Filthy words followed by a smirk which then turned into an innocent, wide smile, making the corners of her eyes crinkle while her eyes sparkled.

He took a deep breath before exhaling it, the noise suddenly cutting off and turning into a moan when her hand wandered higher on his thigh, resting over his half-hard cock.

As if she was trying to still tease him, even while asleep.

Joel looked down at her, so fucking pretty, watching her small hand over where he was growing firmer by the second.

Her head just in the right place to take his cock out and put it into her mouth, fuck up into it slowly so she wouldn’t wake up.

If he wanted to, he could.

Just open his jeans, take out his dick and fuck her sweet, sweet mouth.

They had talked about this before, just in passing but she had been serious about it.

“I really don’t mind waking up to some dick inside me.” He could still hear her say it, not even remembering the context of the conversation.

“What?” She had asked when he had raised his brows in surprise. “I think it’s fucking hot.”

Yeah, it was fucking hot.

Fuck it.

Shifting carefully, he moved her hand, so small compared to his, making room so he could open his belt before moving on to the button on his jeans.

Dark eyes on her, watching for her reaction as she furrowed her brows at the sudden movement.

Made a small, throaty noise but didn’t wake up.

“My pretty girl.” He said, his hand still in her hair, stroking it as the other worked open his zipper, giving some relief to his now aching dick.

It was difficult to shuffle his pants and underwear down enough so he could comfortably take his cock out without having it chafe against the fabric, or worse, the zipper, while also trying not to wake her up.

But he managed somehow, sighing in relief as his cock sprang free, hard and leaking, resting against his belly.

Right next to her pretty, peaceful face.

Gathering her hair in one hand so he could guide her head, he took himself in the other, giving himself a few strokes before guiding the tip to her mouth.

At first, he just rested the head there, feeling her warm lips on him, feeling her breath as she sighed again.

As she pursed them just a little, like she knew what was happening and tried to kiss it.

Just taking a moment in which he simply watched, feeling as if he was doing something forbidden, something he shouldn’t be doing as she was fast asleep.

That even this, just letting his cock rest on her lips, was something he shouldn’t even have considered in the first place.

Somehow, that feeling only added to the excitement, making him pulse with need, breaths heavy now.

But she wanted this. She had told him she found it hot.

Hot to wake up with his dick in her mouth or in her pussy.

He wondered if she’d get wet from this.

His resolve growing thinner.

He slowly pushed in, just the head, watching her lips stretch around him slightly, taking him in so willingly. Feeling her tongue against the slit, making him groan as she moved it.

“Fucking gorgeous, sweetheart.” Joel whispered, like she could hear him.

He stopped like this, had to force himself to stop.

His hips rocked up lightly, wanting nothing more than to bury himself into her wet heat all the way, hear her muffled noises.

But that tiny part of him that found all of this wrong held him back, telling him that just the tip was enough when he fully well knew it wouldn’t be.

That it would only make him harder, and make it harder to resist this.

His fingers flexed in her hair and the hum she let out at the pain she must have felt made his resolve break entirely.

That sweet, little noise enough to throw all caution in the wind, hand pushing her down just a little further as his hips canted upwards.

It made her hum again, when half of his cock was swallowed by her, wet tongue moving subconsciously against it, lips stretched wider now.

Seeing her squirm in her sleep.

A filthy image, him fucking up into her mouth in shallow thrusts, seeing her saliva coat his length as he pushed in and out, not yet deeper, her eyes closed but her mouth still so receptive.

Her hand twitched on his thigh, brows slightly furrowed as if she was registering that something was happening even while in her hazy slumber, but not waking from it.

Groans left him, rumbling deep in his chest and he pressed his closed fist against his mouth as he watched himself slide in and out, watched her take him.

“My filthy girl, taking my cock so well even when you’re asleep.”

Slowly, he pushed deeper, with every slow thrust he buried just a little more of himself into her. All the way before he felt the fat head of his cock nudge against the back of he throat, felt her gag just a little and he quickly pulled almost all the way out.

Fearing that now she was going to wake up.

With just the tip vanishing behind her pretty lips again, he watched for her reaction.

Deep breaths, brows still furrowed but nothing more.

God, fucking hell.

She really wasn’t gonna wake from anything.

“Fuck.” He groaned, pressing himself in again, thrusts just a little faster now, deep but not too deep. “Pretty, filthy girl.”

The hand on his mouth came down to twist into her hair now, so the other one could slide down the strap of her tank top, exposing her naked breast to him.

His rough hands groped and squeezed, eyes flying back and forth between her face to watch his cock sliding in and out of her, and her breast.

So soft and full under his calloused hands, thumb and pointer finger pinching her nipple, making her moan around his cock.

He watched her squirm, and he could swear he saw her hips rock back and forth against nothing.

“Bet you’re fucking wet in those little shorts, baby.” He rasped, hand squeezing a little harder, the noise she let out making his hips stutter. “Wet from me using your pretty, fucking mouth.”

Joel wondered what she would think when she woke up later, once he was done with her.

The salty taste of his cum in her mouth once he had shot it down her throat, the aching feeling of her jaw.

God, he was close already.

The forbidden feeling of this building him up quicker than he expected, throwing his head back.

He couldn’t resist, fucking into her deeper again, hitting the back of her throat until suddenly some primal urge took over, pressing her down as far as he could, the angle not allowing him to push all the way in.

He felt her gag, throat constricting around him and the gurgled, muffled noise was the hottest thing he’d ever heard in his life.

Even hotter than when he fucked into her soaking pussy, the wet slap of his balls and the squelch of her bouncing off his bedroom walls.

Joel didn’t notice that she woke up, confused at first, maybe even panicking a little as she gagged. But quickly realizing what was happening and just playing along, eyes closing, body limp.

She was so wet already, her pussy aching for him and just wanting to shove her fingers into it while he used her mouth.

It was hot, the thought that he had been so riled up, so needy that he would just take what he wanted while she was out like a light.

She wondered if he’d do the same to her aching pussy some day, eating her out or just shoving his fat cock inside of her because he couldn’t resist not having her squeeze him tight.

They needed to have a talk tomorrow.

“So fuckin’ pretty, mouth stuffed with my cock.” He grunted above her, voice gravelly but also growing slightly in pitch. “Gonna let me cum down your throat, darlin’. Dirty slut.”

She couldn’t bite back the moan that bubbled up her throat, hearing his filthy words even though he thought she couldn’t hear him.

He sounded beautiful and she wished she could look at him.

The image of his dark hair clinging to his sweaty forehead, jaw set tight as he ground his teeth together, brows furrowed and that thick vein popping out on his neck made her hips buck involuntarily, growing wetter by the minute.

She was torn between letting him know she was awake so he could properly fuck her, and just seeing where this went, wanting him to shove his cock down her throat when he came.

He was close and she could feel it, hips stuttering, his noises growing breathier and louder, trying to hold back.

Pretending was the better option, his cock hitting the back of her throat again and again, making her work hard not to gag.

“Gonna fill your mouth, sweetheart.” He groaned, really hitting deep with every thrust. “Little slut, letting me use your mouth and gonna swallow it all.”

His hips snapped up harder, and then he stopped, pushed in as far as he could and felt her throat grip him tight as he came with a deep grunt, almost s growl.

Warm, salty cum shooting down her throat, making her hum and probably letting him know she was awake, swallowing it down eagerly and listening to the noises he made.

His fingers tightening in her hair and groping her breast so hard it would definitely bruise.

“Fucking hell, doll.” Joel whispered, breaths laboured and pulled his dick almost all the way out as he softened.

Seeing her eyes open, trying to catch a glimpse of him.

She had been awake.

Little slut, she had enjoyed this and let him think he was getting through his little fantasy without waking her up.

“How long’ve you been awake for?” He asked, taking his cock away from her mouth entirely.

She shrugged her shoulders with a smirk, turning to look at him.

“Couple of minutes.” Her eyes glinted when she said that. Mischievous, dark.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Bet you’re fucking wet in those slutty shorts, huh?” He smirked, hand wandering from her breast to the button of her jeans, opening them skillfully before letting his hand glide inside.

“Fucking soaked.” She murmured, voice a little hoarse and sleep still lacing it.

A whine caught in her throat when his fingers found her swollen clit, circling it with the rough pads of his fingers.

“Yeah you are, all wet from me fucking your mouth, sweetheart. Jesus Christ.”

The words went right through her, feeling herself get even wetter.

He kept circling her clit for a little, wanting nothing more than to fuck her, but he needed a moment to get hard again.

Watching how she let her thighs fall open for him, back arched as a sleepy grin spread on her face, he got a different idea.

“C’mere, darlin’.” Joel said, removing his fingers from her amidst a noise of protest, her eyes opening to stare daggers at him.

Small daggers, no matter how intimidating she tried to be, it never worked on him.

“Sit on my lap, on my thigh, baby.”

The words needed a moment to register in her head, feeling hazy still and that little bit of pleasure ebbing away again as she laid there.

But when they did, she was up in an instant, swaying as she stood over his thigh, his broad hands coming to rest on her waist to steady her.

“Easy there, don’t want you to fall over and hit your pretty head.” Joel laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. She loved his laugh.

He helped her out of her shorts, groaning when he saw the wet patch at the front of her red panties.

As if his fingers hadn’t just been between her slick-covered lips.

Hooking his fingers beneath the waistband, he pulled them down as well, leaving her bare and dripping.

“What a pretty pussy.” He chuckled, guiding her down to straddle his thigh.

The rough fabric felt strange against her core, but when she subconsciously bucked against the flexing muscles beneath the denim, she couldn’t hold back a moan, the friction just right.

“Feels good, huh?” He smirked, his hands still on her hips, thumbs brushing back and forth over her hip bones.

Sometimes she wanted to wipe that cocky smirk right off his face.

Leaning forward, she braced herself on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his dark shirt, trying to balance herself on him.

It took a moment, shifting on his thigh and biting her lip to keep the whimpers from spilling out, but when she finally got it, she gave an experimental roll of her hips, closing her eyes at just how good it felt.

“Get it nice and wet, baby. Don’t worry about making a mess.” Joel groaned, first watching her face before locking in on her pussy sliding over him. “‘Atta girl.”

Flexing his muscles, his hands guiding her back and forth, slowly and gently, just so she could get a feeling of this.

“Feels really good, Joel.” She moaned, breathy and quiet, rolling her hips and feeling the fabric becoming slicker, making it easier but also losing the friction.

Opening her eyes to look at him, his eyes snapped back up to hers, dark and hungry, jaw set.

“‘Atta girl, nice and slow, darlin’.”

She brought one of her hands up to her mouth, licking it before reaching for his cock, limply resting against his hip, feeling his thigh flex beneath her as she wrapped her fingers around it.

He groaned, fingers curling into her hips so hard she expected bruises tomorrow.

She leaned forward, kissing him, still rolling her hips but feeling him urge her to move faster, pressing her down harder.

Moans swallowed by his mouth and his tongue finding hers as she whimpered.

“Soak my thigh, what a pretty girl you are. Pussy so wet for me.”

His cock hardened in her hand, stroking him slowly, movements faltering as she got closer to the edge, warmth spreading from her abdomen into every corner of her.

“Joel- ‘M getting close, baby.” She whimpered, her hips losing their rhythm but still getting dragged along by him.

Back and forth, back and forth, pushing her down into him as he pushed his leg up into her.

“I know, can see your pretty pussy soaking me, sweetheart.” He groaned, forehead resting against hers. His cock twitched in her hand, not fully hard yet again but he couldn’t wait any longer. “C’mon, darlin’, sit in my lap, lemme feel you. Gotta feel you.”

His hands pulled her off of him, a surprised noise leaving her as he wrangled her to straddle his lap.

So strong, muscles in his arms flexing, only getting her wetter by how easily he moved her around.

“Lemme feel that tight, slutty pussy ‘round my cock, darlin’.”

She braced herself on his shoulders while he took his cock in his hand, lining himself up with her, his other hand on her hip slowly pushing her down.

There was barely any resistance when he entered her, so wet already, his eyes trained on her face as he split her open.

Her jaw slack, eyes fluttering closed and her brow furrowed.

Fuck, she looked gorgeous. Always looked so damn beautiful when he pushed his thick cock inside her.

Always so eager to take him entirely, sinking down until she was settled in his lap, both of his hands on her hips again, taking a moment to feel her.

She slumped forward, resting her head in the crook of his neck, fingers curling into his shoulders.

“Fucking big.” She murmured against his skin, her hips shifting slightly.

It made him chuckle, the sound vibrating against her chest and he started to move her hips, guiding her again, slowly at first before she found her rhythm on her own.

“Mhmm, but you like that, darlin’, know you do. Like getting fucked open by a big cock.”

Now she giggled, her laughter turning into breathy moans as she rode him, pleasure building inside her again.

After a few moments she decided she hated the angle, sitting up again and throwing her head back, bouncing on him now, drawing deep grunts from Joel.

He just let her do her thing, his hands moving from her hips to her breasts, pulling her tank top down all the way so they spilled free, squeezing and groping at them, enjoying how her moves faltered when he pinched her nipples.

“Keep ridin’ me, just like that, 'sweetheart'atta girl.” He grunted, leaning forward to suck one nipple into his mouth, making her arch her back. “Look so pretty bouncin’ on my cock, darlin’.”

“Fuck, Joel-” A sharp cry left her when his teeth lightly sank into her, her hands grabbing at his hair, seeking purchase at the back of his head.

“Pretty tits, right in my face.”

She whimpered, biting her lip, feeling the pressure build inside of her, finding it harder to move on top of him.

He noticed, wrapping an arm around her waist and leaning back, pulling her close while he still kissed and licked and bit at her breasts, his hips now fucking up into her.

She buried her nose in his hair, incapable of doing much more than whimpering and moaning as he hit that perfect spot inside her repeatedly, tightening around him.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby, c’mon, be my good girl and gush all over my cock, wanna feel you soak me.” He grunted, thrusts sharper now, his own orgasm too close. “C’mon, sweetheart.”

A particularly harsh thrust, combined with his teeth once again closing around her nipple, hurled her over the edge, coming with a deep groan, her body shaking on top of him as pleasure spread through her veins.

Gripping him tightly, ripping his second orgasm from him, his moan almost sounding painful as his strong arms crushed her against his chest, pushing her down into his lap as he pushed deep inside her.

“That’s it, god you’re so tight when you cum, baby. Fuck, you feel amazing.”

His voice was muffled against her chest, hips bucking through the last aftershocks.

For a long couple of moments, the only sound in the living room were their laboured breaths and the movie in the background, entirely forgotten through this whole thing.

“You good, baby?” He asked, suddenly, hand stroking her back, head tilting up to press kisses against her throat.

Slowly pulling out of her, missing her wet warmth already.

She only hummed back, feeling boneless and unable to speak.

Tired again now.

“Didn’t exactly ride me that hard.” He joked, referencing what she had told him all week leading up to this. “But shit, still the best ride of my life.”

A laugh left her, feeling him shift below her, hearing him press the buttons of the remote to turn off the TV.

“Better be.” She mumbled, a small yelp echoing in the room when he pushed himself up, her arms and legs wrapping around his broad frame, his hands on her ass.

Leaning back a little, she watched him as he carried her upstairs, smirk on her lips.

“What was that about not carrying me upstairs this time, Miller?” She laughed, stroking his cheek.

Leaning down to his ear, she smirked when she whispered.

“I heard you call me slut when you thought I was asleep, I really liked that.”

He went just a little rigid at that but rolled his eyes, shaking his head. The smallest smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Shut up before I gotta stuff that mouth of yours again.”

His reply let her eyebrow rise up, smirk becoming wider.

“Oh? Maybe even in my sleep?” She teased. “Gotta have a nice long talk tomorrow, that was really hot.”

He just shook his head again, throwing her onto his bed and crawling right over her.

“Maybe I’ll wake you with my tongue in your pussy instead.” He said, lips attaching to her neck and making her laugh.

She’d really love that.

And with Joel she knew he’d make sure to wake her up just right.

Tongue in her pussy and breakfast already waiting.

#pedro pascal #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #the last of us #tlou #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #the last of us imagine #joel miller smut #fan fic #fic #fics #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing

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retroellie · 4 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet w/ Spencer Reid

Summary: NSFW alphabet w/ spenice poo

A/N: Ovbiosuly i have to introduce a new character with an NSFW alphabet... it's become my thing yall I know. Also, i wanted this one to be like spencer in the earlier seasons because I'm a whore for him then.

Warnings: NSFW, BDSM, pegging, loss of virginity, Sub!Spencer Reid

Word count: 3.8K

A= Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Dr Spencer Reid is a sweetheart and we all know this, so obviously he's going to be the sweetest boy after. The first couple of times y'all have sex, he's kind of awkward afterward... like he feels weird about the fact he was just inside of you and now he has to talk to you like nothing happened. Eventually, he warms up to it and gets better at taking care of you. Now he always makes sure he has a soft rag and some water in his nightstand so when you stay over he doesn't have to get up. To be completely honest though, he's the one who needs the aftercare...

B=body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

He likes your boobs, like really likes your boobs. He likes them because they're just so versatile, you know? Like he can lay his head on them while you read to him, he can stick his dick in between them, he can suck on them... I mean, what more can this boy need?!?!? Mostly he likes how he can still see them when you guys are in public, maybe not in their entirety but he loves when you wear low-cut shirts. You do it on purpose sometimes, just to see him squirm in his seat while trying to go over statistics on a case. But overall, Spencer just really likes your body. It's just one of those things that Spencer doesn't have to think about or understand, it was just so easy to fall in love with it.

Spencer doesn't really like his body, I feel like he's a very insecure person. He thinks he's too scrawny, too thin, and extremely out of shape. You try to tell him that he's perfect but he can't get over his insecurities. If he did have to choose, it would be his mouth, if he's good for anything... it's for talking and giving mind-blowing head.

C=Cum (anything to do with cum)

Spencer has the worst pull-out game ever, I mean seriously. It's mostly because he just loves cumming with you. The way he'll be deep inside you, literally inside your guts... then he just releases it all into you and watches as your face controls into pure pleasure. He loses all control when you cums, his vision goes white and the only thing he can think of is how pretty you look on his cock.

You had to go on birth control because you couldn't deny Spencer Reid of his favorite thing to do, plus he went on this rant about how birth control is better than condoms because condoms can break blah blah blah. You knew it was simply because he wanted to cum inside you... and it felt way better without a condom.

D=dirty secret

Spencer Reid loves to research things alright... so obviously he has watched massive amounts of porn for research purposes. At first, he tried to tell himself it was for profiling purposes, he needed to know what every kink was so he was able to apply it when needed... well, then it turned into more of his own interest. He wanted to know what he liked, especially when he met you. I mean he's watched almost everything, BDSM, humiliation, sadism, choking, slapping, even pissing. A lot of those things he found he didn't enjoy, but he's honestly found some stuff that makes his face heat up at the thought of it. What's even weirder about this is that Spencer has never jacked off to any of it, to him... it is completely for research.

E=experience (How experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You were his first and he hopes you are his last :). He hasn't even really kissed anyone before you. However, as said above, Spencer has done a lot of research so he definitely knows what he's doing. But porn is completely different than the real thing so he was confused that it didn't go how he expected it to go. What's really nice about Spencer is that he has an eidetic memory, so if something makes your toes curl once... he can do it over and over and over again the exact same way which honestly makes him seem so much more experienced than he actually is.

F=Favorite position

He loves it when you ride him. Not only does he get the perfect view of your boobs and your face, but he loves letting you take control. I feel like Spencer is a bottom so he enjoys the feeling of you towering over him, taking everything you need, and controlling if he gets to cum or not.

He also loves taking you from the back but not in the way you would think. He likes being able to lean against something and you do all the work, like you thrust yourself back on him. He likes that so when you get too tried or frustrated, he can help you fuck yourself on him. Also, I feel like Spencer would like to be experimental with positions, especially since he knows almost all of them from his extensive research. So he tries to switch it up and try new positions every once in a while.

G= Goofy (Are they serious at the moment or are they humorous?)

Everything spencer does is goofy as fuck, so sex is not a serious thing for yall. You can't do anything without spencer shooting out some statistics which makes you laugh, cause his dick could be down your throat and he'd talk about how "43% percent of women say they like giving oral more than receiving it." Sometimes you have to show his face between your own legs to get him to shut up. In short, spencer has to be serious all day at the BAU, so coming home and having to seriously fuck you is just not something he wants to do. He's gonna have some fun with it.

H= Hair (How groomed are they down there?)

Spencer is a bit of a germaphobe, he doesn't like to shake people's hands for god sake. He is definitely either clean-shaven or very well-groomed. He makes sure to clean his junk thoroughly, again with the whole bacteria and germ blah blah... You get it, he just feels more clean if he's groomed well down there.

As for you, I feel like he's gonna care if you're shaved down there or not. I mean he's obviously still going to eat your pussy even if you haven't shaved, but he does prefer you to be groomed down there. Again it's a germaphobe thing for him, but like I said... it's not the thing that determines if he'll fuck you or not.

I=Intimacy

This boy is touch starved as fuck. He usually doesn't like touch, he's scared of it if I'm being honest. So when you came along and touched him in every way possible... he craves it now. He wants to be close to you at all times when he's reading, on a case, or showering. He wants to be touching you in some way. Sex is intimate as well, especially since you were his first time. Losing his virginity was a huge thing for him, so the intimate part was important to him.

He loves the cringey romance things, I mean like buying you flowers or going on expensive dinners every anniversary or birthday. He only ever got his romance beliefs from old romance books and cheesy romance movies. He sure did know how to make you feel like a princess.

J= Jack off (Masturbation headcanons)

Spencer never really masturbated much before he met you, he never really felt that way either. Like being horny was something that he never felt, never got hard, or had a wet dream. Even while doing his research, he never popped a boner... not even once! That was until he met you, now a bus could go by and he is stiff. He can only jack off to the thought of you though, he only needs his mind and his hand to get him off when you aren't there.

I also think he likes to watch you masturbate, he's a little creep like that. Obviously, you'd know he was there, but he likes for you to pretend he's not there. He loves watching you tease yourself, moaning his name while he sits in a chair in the corner of the room. It gives him a small power rush, knowing he's getting you off without even touching you.

K= Kinks

Alright, he has quite a bit... he's a little dirty dog once you get him going. He definitely has a mommy kink definitely, I mean he has mommy issues so it is inevitable for the word mommy to slip out during sex. He says shit like "You make me feel so good mommy..." or "Can I cum mommy?" In his most pathetic voice as he whimpers so loud.

He's a kinky little fucker, to name a few...Prasing, bondage, role-playing, orgasm control, Voyeurism, humiliation. The list goes on and on. He was so embarrassed to bring them up to you starting off, he felt wrong for liking these things. You basically had to fuck it out of him but when he did, he felt so comfortable with you. Sex gets rough and a bit chaotic, but it was for you guys and you guys only so it didn't really matter. As long as you two were both comfortable and enjoying it, it didn't really matter.

L= Location (favorite place to do it)

This is where Spencer Reid lacks alright. He likes to be in his own bed when doing it, I mean he can't really afford to be too adventurous in this area. He's an FBI agent... he can't get caught doing it anywhere else. That's not to say y'all haven't done it in other places, the hotels he stays at on cases have been a regular thing for you guys, but he just doesn't feel safe doing it anywhere else but his own home.

M= Motivation (What turns them on?)

Like I said earlier, he never really got turned on before you. He always thought there was something wrong with him when it came to sex, but girl... you opened a floodgate to him. What turns him on the most is when he thinks of you. Especially if he sees something, let's say he sees a desk... he can't help but imagine bending you over it. It's just you, when you creep up on his mind randomly... he turns into putty.

He also gets so flustered and turned up to the max when you humiliate him in public, like teasing him in front of the team. He gets so sexually frustrated, hearing you joke about him in front of Morgan or teasing him with Garcia about how smart he is... especially calling him "pretty boy"... just gets him going.

N= NO (Something they wouldn’t do/ turn offs)

As an agent of the BAU, constantly around murder and gore and pure violence... Spencer is really picky about violence in the bedroom. He wants sex to be light and fun, not dark. He doesn't mind degrading or hitting... but he wants to keep it at a minimum. I mean he sees it all day, every day. So he'd just rather keep it upbeat in the bedroom, he'd much rather praise you than anything else.

That is a gray area for him, however there is something that he will never do. He hates bodily fluids, so spit and blood... etc. is just off the table for him. Not only is he around it all day, but he doesn't like the germs and bacteria it comes with.

O= Oral (Giving or receiving, skill etc.)

This man could go down on you for hours, I mean... hours. Like I feel like this man jumps up and down when you let him eat you out. This man will attempt to tease you but he gets so eager when he eats your pussy, so he always ends up letting you cum the second your orgasm comes. His favorite after-work activity is to come to the hotel or your shared apartment, pull your panties down, and eat you out like a hungry man. Not to get all psychological (I'm telling y'all I have been watching too much criminal minds lately) but I feel like it's definitely a control thing. I mean his entire life has been out of his control, his entire career is about fighting for control... so the only time he feels somewhat in control is when he goes down on you.

Spencer Reid obviously enjoys receiving as well, I mean what man doesn't like getting some head? He finds you so pretty on your knees, trying desperately to get him off which doesn't take too long for him when you're like this. Spencer just prefers giving simply because he wants to make you feel good, I mean he so desperately wants to make you feel good. Plus he's really good at it, I mean really good...

P= pace (are they fast or rough? slow or sensual?)

As said before, Spencer is eager. He is extremely fast with it, I mean to the point you have to tell him to slow down sometimes because he's going crazy. "Slow down Spence.." You moan into the pillows as your face down, ass up. "Sorry... it... you... fuck... you just feel so good" He stutters out, probably the only time spencer reid gets twisted up with his words is when he fucks you. You would have to be the one to go slow with it, you want him to feel the love in the act. You want him to understand sex doesn't have to be a scientific act, it isn't just for procreation or for the orgasm... it can be an act of love.

Q= Quickie (Their opinions on quickies)

He probably loves them more than eating you out, actually.. I wouldn't go that far. It's a close second to it. He's a busy man, always on a case or trying to finish a book. They are especially good when y'all are traveling for cases like y'all only have 8 minutes before you have to get back to work... he can make you both cum 3 times in 4. He loves long drawn-out ones too, he likes making you feel good for hours but they are rare occurrences simply because he's always getting called into the office. So honestly quickies are how y'all survive.

R= Risk (Are they okay with experimenting? do they take risks?)

He loves experimenting! Like I said before, he has done his research and he probably made a list of things he would like to try with you. He had to get comfortable first to be able to experiment, it was a long process of breaking Dr. Spencer Reid out of his shell. But now it feels like you guys are always trying new things, I mean like every time you guys have sex... Spencer asks if he can do something new to you.

As for risks, he is not for risks. If it genuinely is risky, causing harm to either one of you or something that will cause Morgan to tease him every day for?? It's off the table like I said before... His entire job is about risks, he just wants your guy's sex life to be healthy and normal.

S= Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Spencer can go all night. Let's be honest, it's how he stays fit. Like I said, Spencer gets horny quickly so after every orgasm he has... he's already hard again. I feel like the most rounds y'all have gone is like 8 or 9, it was all in the course of 3 hours too. Again it's a rare occurrence for you guys to have long drawn-out sessions, it mostly happens when spencer has the day off or after a case and y'all spend the day in the city the case was in. When days like this do come, spencer goes crazy and full-on out. He'll light the candles, he'll have a tub of lube, he'll have bottles of water for you guys because he knows y'all will need lots of water after.

I feel like Spencer doesn't last very long, maybe 5 minutes but like I said... he gets hard really fast and he'll edge himself over and over again just so he can make you feel good. I feel like you also help him build up his tolerance, so he slowly starts to last longer and longer. When y'all first started having sex, he couldn't last over 2 minutes... let's be honest now y'all.

T= Toys (do they have toys and who do they use them on?)

ooooh, this is a fun one because spencer reid loves experimenting, so toys are definitely something he likes. He's really into vibrators, especially when you let him watch you masturbate... he just loves watching you tease yourself with it. However, when you use vibrators on him... makes him weak in the knees, for obvious reasons but also because of the sensation of the vibrating and then your hands or pussy?!? He can't help but cum every single time without fail.

Alright y'all I know, spencer reid likes to be pegged. He went completely feral when you bought it for the first time, he begged you to destroy him with the strap. He is a bottom, he likes to be dominated... It goes without saying that he likes to be pegged. You do this thing though, where you're taking him from the back and you use a vibrator to hold his cock. You have him screaming with that move you do.

As for other toys, I feel like he has a pair of handcuffs or bondage toys laying around.

U= Unfair (how much do they tease?)

He doesn't do much teasing but you do, you tease him so much that he is begging to be fucked by the time you guys are alone. He's used to being teased by literally everyone in his life, but something about your teasing... no matter if sexual or not, never fails to make him all flustered.

His teasing isn't really teasing, to him it is but every time he tries teasing you, you end up getting so confused. He'd be like, "You look good in that shirt, it would look way better off though... You know statistically, women in shirts...". Just a very Reid thing to do. You always feed on his teasing though, you want to make him feel good about himself so you just smile and nod.

V= Volume (How loud are they?)

This mf is loud as fuck. Sometimes you have to push his face into the pillows or make him bite down on your panties because he's just so loud. He doesn't moan either, he whimpers and whines. There's a time when you love making him whimper, you encourage it actually. You love seeing his red, flustered face as he whines for you to let him cum. Then there are times, like in hotels, that you have to keep him quiet. Unfortunately, Spencer Reid doesn't do quiet. You shoving your wet panties in his mouth is a regular thing in those times, he can't complain because he loves the taste.

He is also very vocal, he loves praising and being praised. He will whimper out "Fuck... make me feel good.." or "wanna cum in you.." You always cave into his wants, I mean his little whimpers are so cute how can you not?

W- Wild card (Random headcanons)

We all know that spencer reid loves books and statistics, so he will definitely multitask when fucking you. He loves when he's at his desk at home and you come in, wearing nothing but one of his sweaters. You'll crawl down on your knees and suck him off under the desk. You force him to do work as you make him cum, over and over and over. He also likes it when you cockwarm him, asking him questions about the case and if he messes up or stutters... you snap your hips down and make him whine. One time, when you were riding him in his office chair... he was reading a book, like an old literature book. "Are you reading right now?" You asked him, confused because like what? and he replied. "yeah... it's okay, you can keep going. I'll be done in a minute." He smiled so innocently, you wanted to fuck him harder after that.

Also, he uses his statistics to make you feel good, he read in a college textbook about female anatomy that girls like their nipples played with during sex so he tried it on you. You had no idea you liked that until Spencer Reid started pinching them. He'll also tell you the statistics while doing it, which I think is kinda funny. "Statistically, 76% of women have never stimulated they're g-spot," He says as he thrusts up, hitting yours perfectly.

X= X-ray (What’s going on in their pants)

Spencer Reid is a very scrawny and skinny man, so I know he is packing. He's probably a little over average, not too much but enough to make you nervous if you'll be able to take it all. He has a very pretty dick too, very well-groomed and very clean. He doesn't have much girth too, but honestly, size doesn't matter.

Y= Yearning (How high is their sex drive)

Very high sex drive, that's why quickies are so important to him. He didn't really understand Morgan's obsession with women at first until he actually had sex... now he always wants to be inside of you. He begs a lot too, if he's horny... all he will do is beg and plead for you to touch him. "Spencer we just got here, settle down." You scold him as he tries to get you to the private bathroom. "Please y/n... you look so pretty in your dress and... it's making my stomach hurt." Eventually, spencers whining gets you all hot and heavy, and you end up fucking him in the bathroom.

Z= ZZZ (How quick do they fall asleep after?)

Spencer passes out after his balls are empty and he is worn out from everything. Like I guess anyone would be exhausted after 7 to 9 rounds of desperately trying to get off. Not only but he has a very mentally and physically exhausting job, so he's out like a light as soon as his head hits the pillow.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fandom #matthew gray gubler

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atinyniki · 4 months

Text

happy new year!

group: stray kids !

pairing: idol!bangchan x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, established relationships, fighting, reader flinches bc of chan, reader is neglected, chan says rlly mean things, reader is pretty mean too, takes place on new years/new years eve, mentions of physical abuse, kissing, crying, kiss and make up (literally), chan is kinda mean to his manager (that he hates), petname, mentions of cheating, cheating accusations.

authors note: two posts in one day hell yeah ! this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1524

“seriously?!”

he can only bring himself to nod, evidently a little upset at your yelling.

you both go quiet for a moment, until you break it.

“chan.”

he looks up at you again, playing with his fingers in his lap. “hm?”

“are you cheating?”

“what?”

“are you cheating on me?”

“n-no! how could you even… ask that?”

you roll your eyes at him. “you havent been home in so fucking long, chan. and now you’re leaving again and it… it’s just not fair!”

“it’s my job, y/n.”

“your job shouldn’t require you to be away from me every day! you just got back”, you yell even louder.

he knows you’re frustrated, but he’s starting to get a headache. “y/n—“

“plus, even while you are here, you’re never with me… you’re always sleeping and you never talk to me.”

and then it just snaps.

“well, what if i’m tired y/n? what if i’m tired of running around all day with shitty schedules? what if i’m tired of having to exert my fucking voice all the time? what if i’m tired of you being so fucking clingy with me? i need rest!”, he yells back.

tears begin to well up in your eyes, and the words lump in your throat. despite that, you still manage to say something.

“am i really that clingy just for wanting the attention that i deserve? i’m your girlfriend for gods sake!”

he gets up off the bed, lightly stomping towards you. you notice the upset look on his face, red, teary eyes, and his hands are clenched into fists at his sides.

you scoff at the sight, “what, you’re gonna fight me now? do it. hit me.”

though you act confident, you gulp, scared for what’s to come. he reaches a hand up to cup your face, but you shut your eyes, flinching and turning away.

there was no impact.

you turn back to chan, his face completely streaked with tears. “did… did you think i was really—“

he cuts himself off, unable to say anymore.

you trip over your words, you know you’ve hurt him now. “i- i mean… i don’t see another reason your clench your fists. i just thought that—“

“clenching my fists eases the pain of my heart. that’s why i do it so much.”

“o-oh”

an uncomfortable silence passes between you two.

“um… just- come to me when you’ve calmed down. i’ll be in the living room.”

“o-okay.”

he makes his way out the room, his fists still clenched. you hear the pitter patter of his tears hitting the hardwood floor, and you just break.

you’ve done it. you’ve made him cry.

what kind of a girlfriend are you?

you finally let everything sink in. you sit down on your bed, wrapping yourself in the blanket, but it smells too familiar. it smells like chan.

chan will be leaving you again in two days. you don’t want to think about it, but you can’t stop. this is what he wanted after all. to think about it. to calm down. but you can’t.

not after what you said to him. not after what he said to you. your breaths become labored, gasping for air in between sobs. it gets painful, you can’t inhale anything anymore.

you’re stuck, you can’t breathe, but you’re being too loud. so you slap your hands over your mouth, hoping that he won’t hear, and you stuff your face into a pillow, body convulsing with every breath.

you clench the bedsheets, just needing to hold onto something.

chan was right. it helps.

he is not doing too well without you either. he hasn’t been able to stop crying since you left the room, trying to distract himself with the future next.

he turns on the tv, finally finding the countdown to new years. that’s when he realizes how late it is. how long it’s been since your argument.

it’s five minutes till midnight.

the next year.

a fresh start.

but it won’t be the same without you by his side. he tugs at his shirt, sobbing into the cushion even more. he’s careful not to make a sound, not wanting you to feel even worse than you already feel.

before he knows it, there’s only two minutes left. he has to apologize. he has to make it right. there’s no way in hell that he’s ending the year like this.

he walks over to your shared room, knocking softly.

one minute.

the doorknob turns, and you’re forced to face him again. it’s just the consequences of your actions.

your pillow is soaked with your tears, as is his cushion that’s still laying on the couch. your hands are clenched into fists beside you, just as his are now. your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, and it’s like looking at a mirror.

twenty seconds.

he walks over to the bed, eyes flickering between the wet pillow and your puffy face. his heart clenches at the sight, and he digs his nails even harder into his palm.

still wordless, he kneels down in front of you, where your legs are hanging off the bed. he’s now level with your face, making him far more intimidating.

five.

a tear leaves his eye.

four.

he smiles softly at you.

three.

he glances at his phone to check the time, hand reaching for yours. you comply of course, interlacing your fingers in a desperate attempt to just feel him.

two.

he leans in closer to you, heart beating wildly in his chest. it feels like your first date all over again, the nervous feeling in his chest.

one.

using his other hand, he cups your face and pushes your foreheads together, smiling even wider when you don’t flinch away from him this time.

zero.

he steals your lips in a breathtaking kiss, and you just melt into it. your hands find his face, but before you can do anything, he picks you up, lips still attached to yours.

he sits down on the bed and pulls you further into his lap so that you’re straddling him, finally breaking away from the kiss with tears in his eyes.

“happy new year, babe…”

even more tears escape from your eyes now, but you just can’t help them. you hug chan even tighter now, scared that if you let go, he’ll be gone.

“you waited?”

“of course i did. i couldn’t leave you alone.”

you kiss him again, whispering little love confessions to him as you do. “happy new year…”

he knows the elephant in the room still needs to be addressed, and sighs. “i’m sorry for calling you clingy. i didn’t mean it. i really love the attention you give me, and i truly wouldn’t trade it for anything”

“i’m sorry for yelling at you… i should’ve handled it better. thank you for being patient with me.”

“you know i would never… um- do something like that to you… right?”

“i know chan, i was just scared… it was in the heat of the moment. i’m sorry for not understanding.”

he hugs you tightly, “i love you so much, y/n. you’ve changed my entire life, and now i actually look forward to it. i look forward to my schedules, my comebacks, even waking up… because i know it’s for you.”

you can’t even say anything, scared another sob will come out, so you take some time to process his words, kissing slowly at his neck.

“i love you too, channie. thank you for being here for me, and thank you for loving me. i know i can be so difficult and just a lot at times, but it means a lot that you try to make time for me.”

he smiles, kissing you again and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “oh my baby… i’ve missed you.”

you’ve never heard this type of emotion in his words before, so you just know his words have a different weight to them this time.

“i missed you too. wondered how i was gonna sleep without you, knowing that you were hurt and—“

“shh baby… it’s okay. i’m here now, yeah?”

“but you’re gonna be gone again in two days”, you jokingly whine.

he smiles, grabbing his phone from the end of the bed, and he calls someone. you’re not sure who, but it rings for a while until they answer.

“hello?”

“i’m not going to be there for the interview.”

“what? why?! we’ve been planning this for months.”

“okay, well my girlfriend was planning on having me to herself for months, but we don’t all get what we want, do we? i’m spending time with her now.”

“can we reschedule?”

“we’ll talk later.”

he hangs up, and you’re a little stunned by the coldness of his voice. you know he hates his manager, but that much?

“not anymore, y/n.”

“i love you, dumbass”

he giggles, “i love you too, angel.”, he says in a sing-song voice while bopping your nose.

“angel? you’ve never… called me that before…”

he hums, giggling again and quickly kissing you on the cheek.

“new year, new name.”

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