#there's a specific sort of desperation i guess is what it is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrs-weasley-reid · 1 month

Text

Tricky Blunder

Spencer Reid x bau!reader | part 2

part 1

Summary: Mistakes always reveal what the heart really craves. And Spencer wasn't an exception as he desperately makes things right with you.

Warning: a sprinkle of angst and a cup of fluff

A/N: had two drafts, but this made the most sense in my head.

not my gif ctto :)

— ✿ — ✿— ✿ ✿ ✿

You gave Spencer a curt nod, "Hey."

Spencer's chest tinged at the sight of your smile. The kind of smile that gave him the impression that you two were absolutely fine and back to normal.

Hotch invited you to assist on the case that's been keeping the entire BAU team stressed out for the past three days. He thought you'd be a great help in increasing the team's morale and, of course, on the case.

Spencer took your arrival as a good sign. It has only been a month since you left the BAU. Maybe you'd change your mind and come back to the team. Besides, you wouldn't have joined them if you were still mad at him, right?

He thought he was getting ahead of himself. He knew he was getting ahead of himself. Taking the tiniest detail of your simple nod and civil smile into a desperate hope.

Your last exchange has been eating Spencer alive. The fallout repeatedly played out inside his head over and over in hopes that he could change the ending. He couldn't. Even an average person knew that they could never change what's been done.

You, on the other hand, did not dwell on your interaction with Spencer. In fact, as soon as you gave him some sort of acknowledgment, you immediately jumped in on a conversation with Emily. You were only being polite. It was in your nature.

If you were given the chance to boast, you would've said Hotch was almost begging you to help with the case. But you kept the idea to yourself and arrived with fresh sets of eyes. After all, the case specifically needed your specialty: human trafficking and victimology.

And fresh sets of eyes, you did bring.

While the others were occupied giving you a warm welcome, an arm suddenly wrapped around your shoulders, taking everyone by surprise, Spencer the most.

"I barely found parking," A man said to you in almost a whisper but loud enough for everyone to hear and gawk about.

Your eyebrows narrowed, "You're an FBI agent. How hard could it be to show your badge and get a spot?" You queried, forgetting about an entire team right in front of you.

The man grinned, "I wanted to prove I could find a spot without my toy." He spoke with you with such ease, as if you've known each other for years.

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. If you only weren't in public, you would've smacked your forehead from the utter disbelief you felt. That's when you remembered that it wasn't just the two of you.

"Oh, shoot! I mean…" You gestured at the man next to you, "Guys, meet Agent Ezekiel." You went on to briefly explain that you offered Hotch another pair of hands to help with the case, thus the agent's appearance.

Although you were clear about Ezekiel's purpose, everyone couldn't help but take note of his arm around you. The only man they saw wrap their arm around your shoulders was Emily during an undercover operation, where she pretended to be a guy.

Spencer was not a fan.

"And Zeke, meet the behavioral analysis unit. Agents Hotchner, Rossi, Jareau, Prentiss, Morgan, and… Dr. Reid." You introduced them accordingly, paying attention to each one of the agents.

"Mr. Genius! Nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you." Ezekiel exclaimed, stretching a hand out to Spencer.

Spencer stared at the hand in front of him, "Clearly not enough." He lifted his hands out of his back pockets only to transfer them to the front pockets. "And it's Dr. Reid."

He couldn't help but shift his focus between you and the obnoxious arm on your shoulders. He wasn't exactly certain why he was feeling that way. He guessed it had something to do with the fact that he didn't get the chance to speak with you.

Ezekiel looked at his hand and retracted it with a shrug. He leaned against you, "You said he was fun." His face was of pure confusion.

You lightly shoved his face away from you, removing his arm on your shoulders in the process. "I promise, he's more helpful than he looks." You had the mistake of looking at Spencer as you spoke with a playful smile, immediately diverting your gaze to anyone else but him.

The reflexive habit was still present. You always had a knack for aiming for Spencer's approval of your humor. After years of trying to make him laugh in spite of feeling depressed about Maeve, adjusting your humor to align with his became second nature.

Spencer found himself smiling a bit at the millisecond of attention you gave him. He missed it. He missed you.

If the universe was giving him a sign, you standing in front of him was one big slap of a sign. This was his chance to make things right with you.

He'd do anything to make it up to you.

His first attempt was to join any conversation you had with anyone on the team. He tried. He really tried to get your attention, but somehow, before he could even breathe a word out, Ezekiel pops out of nowhere and takes up all your attention.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" You groaned yet stood up from your seat. Spencer wished you didn't.

Ezekiel ruffled your hair, "Less complaining, more doing. You lost the bet, remember?" He laughed, leaning against his seat.

Derek swore he saw Spencer's eye twitch inside out after seeing Ezekiel ruffle your hair.

You stomped out of the conference room, mumbling, "Stupid bet," under your throat.

"You would've beaten Morgan up if he asked you the same thing."

You jumped out of shock, spilling a bit of the hot water on the counter. Spencer followed you out, standing awkwardly next to you. You silently wiped the water off the counter and quickly stirred the cup.

With one last tap of the spoon on the edge of the cup, you turned to Spencer, "Just be glad it wasn't you." You deadpanned, walking away without giving him the chance to say a word.

First attempt: failed.

You clearly weren't in the mood to speak with him, especially when you hadn't gotten your usual coffee. You hated precinct coffee to the bone. Thus, you tortured yourself from lack of caffeine and exhaustion.

This sparked Spencer's second attempt to gain your friendship back: offer you coffee. Your coffee order has been in the back of his mind for the past month. It turns out he liked your odd coffee concoction after finding himself with two cups of coffee every morning the first two weeks you were gone.

The first two days were purely out of habit. The rest were out of the delusion that you'd be sitting on your old desk when he gets in the office.

So, he could only imagine the dejection when you arrived the next morning with an unfamiliar coffee order and bright laughter as you told Ezekiel how his coffee order had changed your life for the better.

Spencer constantly expressed his disapproval. Of course, you weren't happy about it. What was worse was you didn't know why. And worse than that, he couldn't figure out why.

Or so he thought.

As soon as he found an opening, Spencer pulled you into the side. He brought the two of you into an empty interrogation room.

"What are you doing?" You snatched your arm from his grip. You weren't stupid. You noticed Spencer's fixation for your attention. You did your best to be civil, but he was making it very difficult for you.

"You've barely been in the ViCAP unit, and you're already smitten with your superior. I think it's safe to say it does not look good on you. You don't even know whether he's a decent guy." Spencer gulped. He knew exactly how stupid he sounded.

You blinked loudly and chuckled, "So?"

Spencer straightened his back and averted his eyes away from yours, "So… I suggest you…" He trailed off. He didn't plan this far. He should've planned farther than this. It wasn't exactly very clever of him, and your glare made him dumb.

"Suggest me what?" You crossed your arms on your chest. When Spencer didn't speak for fifteen seconds, you continued, "You have no right to tell me what looks good for me. Or anything about me. You made that pretty clear, Reid. Stick with it."

You purposely bumped into his shoulder on your way out, leaving him dumbfounded and dry-mouthed.

His chest felt tight as if a hand was clenching it into the tiniest crumple of paper. He closed his eyes in agony as he whispered, "Damn it," running his fingers through his hair.

With the 187 IQ he's been bragging about, he couldn't imagine his own disappointment when he failed to realize his feelings for you.

You have been nothing but kind to him. When he was grieving, you were the only one he wanted to confide in. You were the only one who could make him smile. The only one who could make him laugh with an average humor. The one that made painful things less miserable.

And without him knowing, he fell for your kind smiles and warm company.

He became addicted to you.

Spencer did his best to avoid it, but he couldn't help himself. How could someone not fall for someone amazing like you? Clearly not him.

Your friendship felt more important to him, though. It always was. It was too important that he spent his time finding a fix for his infatuation. Shoving his growing feelings for you as if it were a crime.

But you just couldn't let him not fall for you. You didn't even try. You were just you, and he was just one of your willing victims. It was inevitable.

The deeper he fell for you, the more he wanted not to.

He was a weakling, a stupid coward, and irrevocably in love with you.

So, was he disappointed that you fell for the genius prodigy? Or was he disappointed that he never realized how deep he'd fallen for you until you left?

The next day was Spencer's worst nightmare.

You were at gunpoint.

Close and yet so far.

"Come any closer, and I'll shoot her!" The unsub shouted, holding you by the neck with his arm wrapped around it.

Spencer felt his hands clammy. You were too close to the unsub for him to find an opening. Backup was still a few minutes away. He didn't know what to do.

He took a deep breath, "No one needs to get hurt. Just let her go, and we can talk this out." He kept his gun pointed at the unsub.

He made sure you knew that. He never wanted you to think that he'd ever point a gun at you, even if you weren't already.

The unsub's grip tightened around your neck, and you could barely manage to let out a gasp. Tears began to spill from your eyes as air dissipated from your lungs. Your consciousness was hanging by a thread.

"Shut the hell up!" The unsub shifted the tip of his gun towards Spencer. He glanced at you and at Spencer's pleading face. He laughed, "If you let me go, I'll make sure someone rich buys her. You don't have to worry. I'll make sure they treat her well."

"Don't!" You choked, "Don't listen to him, Spence!" You were stammering, almost unable to form words.

Hearing you call him by his first name for the first time in a while gave Spencer a concussion. A string of déjà vu coursed through his body. Spencer was more terrified than he already was. He couldn't lose you again. He couldn't go through it again.

You could see it in his eyes. You knew that look from miles away. You've seen the same look etched in the deepest vault in your mind. The only thing was, you never imagined that you'd ever be the reason for it.

And just as you always have… you chose him.

You focused on his brown eyes. You took a deep breath and met Spencer's gaze, "Take the blunder."

His eyes widened. He felt his heart quicken. Spencer vigorously shook his head, tightening his grip on his gun.

After spending time together in his gloomy apartment, you and Spencer found enjoyment in playing chess. A few phrases stuck to heart, inside jokes that filled both of you with mindless giggles.

What used to be a funny term turned into something Spencer feared the most at that moment.

You were asking him to shoot you.

"No! I won't do that!" Spencer shouted, shaking his head to the point of dizziness. There must be another way. He needed to find another way to save you.

"What the fuck are you two talking about?!" The unsub pointed the gun back at your temple. This time, he made sure you felt the cold metal on your skin.

Both you and Spencer knew that the unsub was too far gone to be reasonable. Your plan was the only plan that'd work. He had to shoot you and let the bullet through to hit the unsub down. Of course, it wasn't a perfect one.

But it'd save many lives and his, and you were content with that idea alone. Except Spencer wasn't.

You closed your eyes, "Spencer, do it!" You begged, suffocating. "Take the fucking blunder! Now!"

Spencer didn't notice his watery eyes, fixing his vision solely on you. His hands were shaking. His body was ice cold. He could hear you and your fading breath. He aimed his gun at your shoulder, steadying his stance.

A bright flash and two loud strikes prompted you and the unsub to fall to the floor.

Hotch came into view across Spencer, pointing his gun to where the unsub used to chokehold you.

Spencer flew to your side, taking you in his arms as sobs spilled out of his lips. "No, no, no, no. Not again, no. Please, no." He brushed the hair off your face, holding your cheek.

A chuckle curved the ends of your lips, "You're a horrible shot." Your eyes were still closed as you felt a small sting on your shoulder grow as it bled out.

His breath hitched. Spencer chuckled a cry as he pulled you into a hug. It was so tight and yet gentle enough to let you catch your breath. "I thought I was going to lose you," He whispered. You never thought Spencer would ever hug you tighter than he already was. "I didn't— I don't want to lose you."

Soon, Spencer had to let you go as the paramedics came to your aid. They dragged you out where everyone waited in anticipation.

Ezekiel was the first to run to you, "You alright?" He replaced Spencer's spot on your side.

"I'll live," you shrugged, regretting it immediately as you felt a painful shock travel from your shoulder. You cursed under your breath.

"Stop moving, dumbass." Ezekiel scolded, turning to the paramedics and asking them if there was any way he could help.

Spencer felt empty at the sight. His heart shattered at the sight of someone else taking care of you. But compared to Ezekiel, he had no chance. And it broke Spencer even more.

But that didn't mean he couldn't try to befriend you.

So he chose friendship. He always did, after all.

He visited you the next morning, the first one to arrive as soon as visiting hours began.

"Hey," Spencer flashed a thin smile.

You placed the book you were reading down on your lap, returning his smile, "Hey."

This time, Spencer knew you weren't just being polite. It made his heart swell from relief. He still had a chance to make things right.

He walked inside the room, placing a small bouquet of white daisies on the bedside table. Spencer pointed at your book, "I have a book just like that." He started, attempting to make casual conversation.

"It's actually yours," You flipped the pages, revealing thousands of annotations. You only knew one person who did that. "It was my favorite. I couldn't let it go…" You gently wiped the cover.

George Orwell's 1984 novel was the first book Spencer ever lent you. As you packed your stuff from your old desk, you couldn't help but pick up one book to keep.

Spencer looked around, "Where's Agent Ezekiel?" He wondered out loud. Maybe too loud. The name rolled off his tongue with subtle disgust. He felt conflicted about the guy's absence from your side but was also relieved that he got to have you to himself.

"He's talking to my aunt," You replied nonchalantly, refraining yourself from shrugging.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Your aunt? Don't you mean your mom?"

You shook your head, looking at him oddly. "Last I heard, Zeke's my cousin, not my brother."

Spencer's eyebrows lifted over his forehead, "Ah, right. Yeah, that'd be weird…" He gave his best to sound casual while he internally screamed in his head. If only he could do a somersault without breaking every bone in his body and looking stupid, he would.

"Imagine the horror," You scoffed, bringing the book up to continue reading.

He watched you silently for a moment. He never knew why he thought a friend was all he was ever going to see you as. It must be the stupidest idea he's ever had.

Spencer bit his lower lip, his hands clenched on the side of your bed, "I—" He bit his tongue, unsure how to continue or how to start.

You turned to him with raised eyebrows, "Hmm? D'you say something?" You closed the book, giving him all the attention he has been dying to get for the past week.

"I—uh…" He swallowed the lump in his throat, "I know it's way too late to say this, but," Spencer wet his lips and met your gaze, "I'm sorry for being a jerk and—"

"It's okay, Spence," You smiled, cutting him off. "I did throw my feelings at you out of nowhere, so I kind of understand—"

Spencer cut you off, "Still doesn't it make it right for me to be an asshole. It's not like you—"

You shook your head, "But I was being unreasonable. I had no right to stop you from—"

It was like a game. Both of you kept cutting each other off like an indecisive scale.

Spencer couldn't take it anymore and grabbed your face, giving you a quick, soft kiss on your lips. "Just shut up for a second…" His breath fanned on your face, "Please…" He rested his forehead on yours and began to speak as soon as he felt you nod. "I'm sorry for being a jerk. I'm sorry for reacting like a coward. And I'm sorry for being stupid." He spoke in a rush as if he knew you'd talk over him as soon as you had the chance to.

"I'm sorry I said I was disappointed in you. I made a blunder…" You laughed at his joke. "I thought if I turned you down, I'd never have to worry about losing you. I was obviously wrong." He playfully rolled his eyes, only widening your grin. "I was falling for you, and I chickened out—"

You felt giddy. You couldn't stop the grin on your face. Your eyes couldn't help but stare at his lips. You did your best to listen to his sweet words, but damn were you easily distracted by him.

Apologies after apologies, sweet words after sappy sentiments. You grew too impatient. He was talking too much.

"Spencer, just say you love me and kiss me," You interjected, pulling his shirt to get him closer.

He laughed softly. A sound that made your heart skip a beat. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, tilting your head higher.

"I love you… I'm in love with you."

Spencer felt so good to finally admit it: to you and to himself. He pulled you in once more and kissed you again, longer this time.

He couldn't get enough of it, enough of you. He only pulled away when a nurse came in to check on you, blushing like a red beet.

Not a second after, his phone rang. The team was looking for him and wondering where he was, emphasizing the fact that they were to fly in forty minutes.

Spencer went back into the room, low-spirited. He didn't want to leave you just yet. You had barely forgiven him, and he barely knocked some sense into his stubborn head. He wanted to stay and make up for the month he'd missed.

But duty calls, so he sat silently as the jet took off the runway, fiddling with the loose string on his cuff. A snapping sound pulled him out of his trance.

"Reid," Derek called out as he sat on the left seat across Spencer. "How'd it go?" Derek queried.

"How'd what go?" Spencer's eyebrows raised. What could Derek possibly mean?

Derek looked at him as if Spencer was crazy, "You said you'd go to the hospital to get your migraine checked out. Is everything alright?"

JJ heard their conversation, turning on her seat, "Didn't you get checked out last week? Is it getting worse?" She worriedly asked, joining the discussion.

Spencer's ears turned pink as he quickly glanced at JJ, "Y-yeah... I mean, no. I'm fine." He stuttered, clearing his throat.

Emily squinted at the boy genius' stutter. She wasn't as smart as him, but she knew him well enough to know when he was lying. "Which hospital did you go to?" She raised her eyebrows.

"The... one on..." Spencer wasn't prepared to take the hot seat. His mind was still clouded by the thought of you. It was like he was under the influence, unable to get his head straight.

"The one where she's staying?" Emily prompted.

"Yeah, the one where she's staying—wait who?" Spencer was taken aback.

Emily grinned, catching a glimpse of a purple hue on Spencer's skin hiding behind his collar. "I think he's fine," She told JJ and Derek. He looked at Spencer, "You're fine, right?"

Spencer hesitantly nodded his head.

Derek's eyebrows knitted, "What are you on about?" He turned to Emily, who was sitting next to him.

"When you're stressed out, what do you usually do?" Emily raised her hand before letting Derek answer, "With Savannah." She smirked.

"Damn, Prentiss. I didn't know you were that curious about my sex life." Derek replied sarcastically.

"No," Emily smacked her forehead. She decided not to explain herself any further. She looked at the genius across him, "So, how is she?" When Spencer gave her a confused look, she rolled her eyes, "Oh, please. Stop acting like you didn't just make out with her."

Spencer looked down and giggled silently. Busted. It was your fault, really. Before he left, you made sure to turn his frown upside down and did it so well that his mind was malfunctioning from the memory of your lips, leaving marks on his chest.

"She's fine. The doctor said she'd be able to fly home in a few days." Spencer replied giddily.

Emily smirked, "Yeah, I bet she's fine, alright." She pointed at Spencer's tie, enough hint for Derek and JJ to catch up in the conversation.

"My man," Derek's grinned.

JJ's eyes widened, and her mouth was slightly agape. "So, are you two made up?"

Spencer nodded, "Yeah... just a tricky blunder."

#spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #ssa spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid series #spencer reid x reader #criminalminds #criminal minds #spencer reid angst

934 notes · View notes

kaciidubs · 5 months

Text

The Summoning | Spooktober 2023

❣ Summary: Desperate times called for desperate measures, and you may have just summoned the most desperate measure of them all. ❣ ❣ Word Count: 1.16k ❣ Warnings: Demon! Jisung, humor, smut, Reader is a wee bit sassy, Switch! Reader, Switch! Jisung, implied multiple rounds, riding, open ended ❣ ❣ Female! Reader [No use of Y/N] | You/Your pronouns ❣ ❣ Additional Tags: Han is referred to as Jisung, Ji, Baby, and Sir, Reader is referred to as Jagi, and Baby, barely edited, there's basically no plot ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist ❣ Spooktober 2023

You were sure you followed the incantation properly, the candles were at the right points on your - albeit crudely drawn - sigil and the pronunciation of the Latin words were damn near spot on with the YouTube video you kept bookmarked.

So, why wasn't there currently a tall, burly demon standing in front of you, ready to snatch your soul in more ways than one?

"What the fuck?"

Standing before you, looking just as confused as you were, was a man - a man - with admittedly gorgeously styled hair, an all black outfit that some how highlighted his slim figure, and a golden cross chain hanging from his neck.

Ironic.

"What- Where-" His eyes scanned frantically around your room before settling on you, still knelt at the head of the summoning circle. "Who are you and how did you do that?! Where am I even at? Who are you?"

You bristled at his constant questioning, eyebrows furrowing, "I should be asking you who you are! I was hoping for some sort of scary horny demon who was ready to blow my back out, not whoever you are!"

"Horny demon? Blow your- Hold on, hold on." He pressed his hands to his face, muttering under his breath though you weren't able to catch what he was saying. "You... You tried summoning a demon for sex? Are you insane?!"

"No, I'm horny." You deadpanned, crossing your arms over your chest, "And you're one to judge, since you came here!"

The demon dropped his hands, eyes wide and lips - cute, plush-looking, and kissable - set in a pout, "I didn't come here on my own! You summoned me, remember?!"

Groaning, you glanced toward the notebook with your summoning notes written in it, "I guess, even though you weren't what I was expecting at all." Looking up at him again, you shrugged, "Well, if you aren't going to satisfy anything, you can just - I don't know, poof back to hell or wherever you came from?"

He froze, mouth opening and closing with stammers that made you raise an eyebrow inquisitively. "I... Well, I can't."

"Huh?"

"I can't leave until I, um... Satisfy your needs."

If you looked hard enough, you could've seen the faintest blush rising on his cheeks.

"D-Don't get this wrong, either!" He shouted, quickly falling into the defensive, "I literally can't, it's in the incantation, I'm bound to you until I satisfy the contract of your summon."

There was a beat of silence between you, the cogs in your head working double time as you processed his words and all their double entendre meanings.

"So... You're stuck with me until you-"

"-blow your back out, yes."

Sure, he may not have been the big scary demon you were hoping for, but you couldn't deny that he was attractive and he looked like he'd be a pretty good lay. Besides - when would you be able to say you summoned, and fucked, a demon?

Pushing yourself up from your knelt position, you brushed off your knees with an exaggerated huff, "Alright then," you put your hands on your hips, smirking at the brunet in front of you, "fuck me."

Within the next ten minutes you learned a few new things; the first being that his name was Jisung - or at least, that's what you caught amidst his heavenly soft lips moving rapidly against your own. The second was that there was a specific way demons operated when it came to summons, and your chant just so happened to bind onto him. The third was that he had extremely sensitive ears, and for someone so sure about initiating things, he was a mere gentle breeze away from folding to your command.

And boy, did he fold.

"Oh, fuck me-"

He laid underneath you, hair an unforgivable mess thanks to your restless fingers and face wrapped in sheer pleasure as you rode him like a woman possessed; the springs in your mattress protesting in kind.

"Fuck- Fuck, Jagi, just like that."

"I can't tell," you huffed, breaking away from your assault of the pretty skin of his neck, "if you're the one who's supposed to be fucking me," your fingers slid from his hair and to his shoulders, slowly dancing their way down to his nipples, "or if I'm the one fucking you."

"I-I tried, but you-" a whimper fell from his lips as you gently pinched at the small, perked nipples, "-didn't even g-give me a chance!"

"Give you a chance? Baby," your movements changed to slow grinds of your hips, a sinister smirk growing on your lips from the way his pouted lips fell into a small 'o'. "I gave you permission to take me, use me as you wished - show me the reason why my summon worked on you." Leaning down, your lips grazed over his, "Show me why I chose you."

The air shifted around you, sparks of excitement shooting down your spine as you felt him shiver underneath you - your only sign of a physical change before you were suddenly rolled onto your back with ease.

There was no point in hiding the delighted giggle that floated from your mouth, not when it was subsequently followed by a shocked gasp as you took in the man - or rather, demon, before you.

His irises were a deep red, rivaling the prettiest of roses, while a set of horns curled from the sides of his head before curving up at his temples, the sharp points looking more inviting than they should have been.

Your pussy clenched at the smirk he wore, teeth bearing points that surely weren't there before.

"Why you chose me, Jagi?" Jisung spoke, the newfound low register in his tone wrapping around your mind and rendering you utterly defenseless. "Want me to show you why I'm the only one worthy of ruining this little pussy? Give you the treatment you got down on your knees for?"

His hands found your thighs, sliding down to your knees to hook your legs around his lithe hips before pressing forward, sinking whatever inches escaped you back into your slick cunt.

"Well?"

Taking that as your warm invitation to speak, you nodded quickly, "Y-Yes."

He tsked, loose strands of hair falling before his eyes as he shook his head, "Yes?"

"Yes, Sir." The title fell from your lips effortlessly, almost as if it was waiting to be used all along - natural.

His smirk grew wider, and you found yourself wishing he'd show you the delicious contrast of his sharp teeth and his pillow-soft lips, if only for a moment.

Anchoring onto his knees, Jisung cocked his head as if to process the simple addition of one word, "Sir... That's a good start, baby - keep it up and I might have to stay even when the contract's up."

From that moment on, the only chant you needed was his name, your sigil now in the form of your nails on his back, and whenever you summoned him, he came - and so did you, many, many times.

✧. ┊Tagged lovelies: @goblinracha, @having-an-internal-crisis-rn, @midnightfrog625, @anyhow-everything, @bangchanbabygirlx, @sweetracha, @j-onedrabbles, @happilydeepestwonderland, @nightimescapes, @caitlyn98s, @ch4nn13luv, @ihrtlix, @sometimesleeknows, @jeonjungkookenthusiast1997, @maximumkillshot, @y-ur--i, @acker-night, @dreamescapeswriting, @specialstay, @broken-glowsticks, @s00buwu, @dancerachaslut, @junglyric, @tinyelfperson, @jj-stay, @katsukis1wife, @inlovewithmusician, @keen-li, @armystay89

✧. ┊Kinktober only: @selicua

✧. ┊If your username is in bold italics that means tumblr won't let me tag you. If you’d like to be added to the taglist, fill out this form!

#skz smut #stray kids smut #han jisung smut #han jisung x reader #Demon! Jisung #Demon! Han

532 notes · View notes

kitashousewife · 5 months

Note

hii idk if I missed it but did u ever expand on the sakusa perfume ad thought 👀

YES please let me do so (sorry this is so late)

—————

“yes, that’s perfect. right here,” the photographer snaps another shot, clicking sounds echoing through the small set as sakusa lets out an exhale.

really he’s not sure why he agreed to this. some new perfume line contacted the team a few months back, talking about some sort of collaboration to boost each others popularity. a few phone calls later and now, most of the teammates have had their turn behind the camera.

sakusa was last. he really didn’t want to. he was flattered, a little flustered that they thought he would be good for a perfume ad. he’s seen them this whole life, casting movie stars and other famous athletes. the mere fact that he’s now at that level is mind blowing enough.

but now that he sits here, uncomfortably warm and sick of the attention, he’s thinking maybe it isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

until you call him.

you’re in your local grocery store, picking up things for the week after work. thoroughly worn out, you grab a magazine from the racks while in the check out line to pass the time. your fingers flip through aimlessly, completely unaware of the contents of the glossy pages, until you are.

staring back at you is sakusa kiyoomi. head rested in his palm, in a partially unbuttoned black silk shirt, with a bottle of cologne to his lips.

you almost shut the magazine. your body feels warm, your head spins. almost ripping it open again, you stare right back at the photo. his jaw is sharp, and his milky skin glistens behind the shiny bottle. and his eyes, they feel like he’s staring right at you. before you can think twice you’re shoving the tabloid onto the belt, and begin to try to catch your breath.

“hell-“

“kiyoomi,” your voice sounds apprehensive, strained even.

“what? i just got back from practice, i need to sh-“

“we’ve been friends for over ten years and you forgot to tell me that you were in a fucking cologne ad?”

sakusa about chokes before he slams the mute button on his phone. he completely forgot, he hadn’t even been told by the marketing team that the ads were out. he feels embarrassed, suddenly worried about everyone in the entire world seeing a completely different side of him than normal.

but he’s also curious.

part of him wished this would happen. while he was staring down the lens of the camera, the thought did cross his mind about how you specifically would react.

he can’t help but find out.

“it slipped my mind i guess, i’ve been busy,” he sets his phone on the kitchen counter. “kinda cool, huh?”

you don’t even know what to say. the most beautiful photo of the prettiest man you’ve ever met is in front of you, and his raspy voice is coming through your phone, making for an incredibly distracting combination.

“you look so irritated,” your voice is quiet. sakusa smirks, only slightly.

“i was. i was there for hours,” his smirk grows for a moment. “i think there’s going to be a short video ad, too.”

you rub your temples. your mind is blank. you’ve always thought sakusa was handsome, but not like this. your tongue feel heavy in your mouth, and you can’t stop staring.

“a-and what do you think of it? what did your mom say?”

sakusa shorts at the desperate conversation change attempt. “she had a fit, you know how she is.”

the thought of how could she not crosses your mind, and thankfully you don’t say it out loud.

“well, it’s really something. congrats, omi,”

sakusa smiles. “thanks,” he can hear you sigh on the other end. “everything okay over there?”

no. “y-yeah, yeah, just fine,” you shut the magazine and toss it onto the coffee table.

“staring at my picture?”

“n-no!” you’re quick, and sakusa laughs.

“miss me that much? jeez, want me to come sign it for you too?”

you pause. he laughs out loud. “shut up, omi,” you groan. “i’ll see you friday anyway, for motoya’s dinner,”

“okay, see you then.”

he hangs up, and he can’t help but snicker to himself. he can’t wait to see you on friday now. and, he even has the shirt from the shoot.

he decides he’s going to wear it, just for you.

#sakusa x reader #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #sakusa kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #sakusa fluff #hq fluff #hq drabble #sakusa x reader fluff

485 notes · View notes

tcubunny · 3 months

Text

switch!tzuyu x switch!fem!reader - “trying our best” (warnings: smut, praise, breast play, scissoring, clit stimulation, oral)

a/n: thank u to my pookie @soyeonsbabygirl for proof reading 🤗 first time writing for tzuyu, kinda nervy. i’ve had this idea in my head from the second i thought up this au. small issue that we’re going to fix with our imagination, as always: let’s pretend jyp is strict on hotel rooms and if the company placed/booked/whatever-the-balls two specific members in a room, they HAVE to the be ones who share it🙏idk if i’m lying ab the switch tags bc i think that’s what’s happening, but idk tbh. maybe if i feel generous in the future ill write a fic about how her and the reader ended up getting caught and what their punishment was. for now, much love and enjoy pookabutts😘

word count: 1.8k

“goodnight you two, don’t do anything you know you’re not supposed to.”

jeongyeon warns and gives you and tzuyu a kiss before walking to the door and shutting it behind her.

you and tzuyu are the best girls for your unnies, you never get in trouble. your notoriously great behavior has fully merited their trust, yet letting you two share a hotel room still seemed risky. everyone insisted that being alone with each other would be too tempting, but there was nothing they could do about it.

you both promised—specifically to jihyo that you would sleep on separate beds, and wouldn’t try anything, and you plan to follow through on that promise.

“are you tired?” tzuyu’s voice bellows throughout the room. “i guess.” you get up and lock the door before walking to the other bed. “well, goodnight.” tzuyu turns off her bedside lamp and lays down, draping the covers over herself.

“goodnight.” you do the same as her and get comfortable. you close your eyes, trying your best to clear your head, but you’re far too hyper-aware of the fact that she’s right next to you. you really wouldn’t dare disobey the others, but it’s all you can think about.

the minutes rush by and you still can’t manage to fall asleep, completely immersed in your less than holy thoughts about tzuyu. you toss and turn, but nothing works.

“y/n, are you asleep?” you hear a murmur in the dark and turn to face tzuyu’s bed. “no.” there’s a few seconds of awkward silence before tzuyu speaks up again.

“i know we said we wouldn’t, but do you want to sleep with me? i just feel so isolated.” you think about it for a second, you desperately want to say yes, but you know you can’t. “tzuyu…”

“please, they won’t find out. the door is locked and they have no other way of checking on us.” she is correct, there’s no way they can find out unless they enter the room, which they can’t do if the door is locked. and you always lock the door when you’re in a hotel; it wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

“okay…” you get up and walk to her bed, hesitantly joining her under the covers. you turn away from her, too scared that you won’t be able to control yourself if you face her. you both say goodnight again and the deafening silence returns.

falling asleep is significantly more difficult now that tzuyu is right next to you. you can feel the warmth emanating off her body and you want nothing more than to turn around and kiss her. you can also feel your own warmth stretching from your flustered cheeks to your aching core.

“i can’t sleep.” you’re jolted out of your trance of sorts by tzuyu turning on the light. you turn to look at her and she sits up against the headboard, so you do the same. “me neither.” you reply, trying to hide your reddened face.

“i’m bored.” she says, tucking her hair behind her ears. “me too.” you look around the room, trying to think of something else to continue the conversation. “you think the others are asleep?” she exhales before answering. “let’s think critically here, none of them can keep their hands off each other.” you look down at the floor. “yeah…”

you both sit without saying anything. having her so close but not being able to touch her how you want is absolute torture. you bite down on your thumb as a weak attempt to distract yourself, but it doesn’t work in the slightest.

you look over at her, head tossed back on the bed frame, eyes closed, and arms inside her shirt. you’ve never been one to make impulsive decisions, but your desire for her completely takes over.

“tzuyu…” you call out, inching closer to her. “wha-“

you crash your lips into hers, cutting off her sentence. the kiss is slow and sends heatwaves straight to your core. her lips feel amazing, you swear you’ll never be able to separate from them. you let your tongue wander inside her mouth and she gladly takes it in. you entangle it with hers, lifting your hand to cup her face.

she pulls away and you whine in frustration. “we can’t.” her actions greatly differ from her words; she tugs the collar of your shirt towards her and continues kissing you.

“why not?” you repeat the pattern of pulling away and going right back to the heated kiss every time either of you speaks. “we promised.” “they won’t find out,” you pause your sentence to keep tasting her “like you said, the door is locked.”

it appears you’ve fully convinced her as she pulls you closer and makes you straddle her. you let your hands get lost in her hair as she grabs your face.

you can already feel a pool of slick collecting on your underwear while you’re squirming on her lap. the air in the room suddenly feels hot and your clothes start feeling like a burden.

“take off your clothes.” you instruct, getting up to do the same. you toss your things to the side, not caring where it lands. you watch as tzuyu rips everything off and crawls to the edge of the bed to sit.

you admire her body with a smirk before pushing her down and getting on top of her. the truth is, neither of you has any experience with being in control, but you’ll have to make do.

“you’re so pretty.” you whisper in her ear, moving your mouth down to her neck. “you’re so pretty.” you kiss her chest, making sure not to leave any new marks that the others could notice.

you gradually move lower until you reach her tits. you take one of the into your mouth and she lets out a loud moan. you slap your hand over her mouth to shush her.

“nayeon and jeongyeon are right beside us, do you really want them to hear?” you take your hand off and she brings her own hand to her mouth, urging you to keep going.

your mouth goes back to her tit, sucking and biting it gently. her choked moans make your pussy drip, you can’t wait any longer. you replace your mouth with your hand and tap on her thigh. “can you spread your legs?” “mhm.”

she does so and you swing one of your own legs over one of hers so that your pussy is directly aligned with hers.

you look into her eyes waiting for approval to go on, but she just pushes your hips down instead, making your soaked cunt collide with hers. you almost scream out from the feeling, but bite down on your finger to stop yourself.

you gyrate your hips, twitching slightly every time your clits touch. “you’re so fucking hot.” tzuyu coos from beneath you and pulls you down to her lips. you moan and whine into her mouth, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

you no longer care in the slightest about how many rules you’re breaking, the only thing on your mind is how amazing tzuyu sounds.

“you feel so good, tzu.” your sentence comes out hurried and broken, the feeling of tzuyu’s pussy on yours messing with your senses. “hm, thank you.” an inebriating smile adorns her lips as she responds. one of her hands remains placed on your hip, pushing you down against herself. you lean back, resting your weight on your hands as you brush your hair back.

“faster.” she hums while digging her nails into your skin. you whine at the feeling and speed up, making tzuyu reflexively thrust her hips up.

“shit, don’t stop.” her back arches as she pleads with you. “i wouldn’t do that to us both.” you giggle and bend down to meet her lips.

you can feel your muscles beginning to contract and hold onto tzuyu’s hand against the mattress.

“i’m so close.” you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. “hm—me too.” hearing her weak whimper is all you need to reach your climax. you fiercely hold tzuyu’s hand as your hips shake, silencing your moans with her lips. you don’t stop until you see her body tense and she lets out a string of profanities with her orgasm.

when she completely finishes, you let yourself fall down on her chest, completely slumped. you both lay there panting without moving until your heart rates settle and you regain your composures.

“you’re incredible.” she traces your lips with her fingers and you look up at her. “i pay attention.” she laughs at you, pushing you off of her to get on top of you.

“it’s my turn to show you how well i pay attention.”

your eyes widen at her remark, you didn’t think she could sound any hotter, but somehow she does. she kisses down your neck, going past your chest and all the way to your stomach. she plants a kiss right above your core and your hips jerk forward.

she stands up and pats down the edge of the bed for you to sit. she then kneels in front of you, opening your legs with her hands. you can feel the slick pouring out of you, she looks absolutely ravishing on her knees for you.

she kisses your thighs as you stroke her hair with a smile on your face, completely drowning in how beautiful she looks.

she looks up at you and dips her tongue between your folds, already earning desperate moans from you. her tongue moves with great agility, sucking your clit and pushing into your entrance every time she passes it.

you give her feedback in the form of hushed whines and whimpers, still very aware of the people on the other side of the wall.

“does that feel good?" she asks in a sweet, innocent voice, the contrast between her actions and her inflection adding to your arousal.

you whine and arch your back slightly, pushing tzuyu’s face further into you. she chuckles as she lets go of your clit with an audible ‘pop.’

“y/n, answer my question.” she begs with the same tone and you look down at her, a dangerous glint painted on her eyes.

“hm,” your attempt at answering comes out as a moan and your cheeks redden as you feel tzuyu’s laugh against your pussy.

"i think,” you whimper into your own hand as she pushes her fingers inside you. “i think you can tell, ah fuck.” she mercilessly pumps her fingers in and out of you while her lips wrap around your clit.

it doesn’t take long for the edges of your vision to glow white, you orgasm hitting you without warning. you grab a fistful of tzuyu’s hair, holding her in place. she eagerly swallows every bit of sticky white fluid pooling out of you, allowing you to fully come back from your high.

you let go of her hair when you realize how hard you were holding onto it and she stands up. “i think i won.” she teases, coming closer to sit on your lap.

“oh, it was a competition? in that case, i think i’d like a rematch.”

339 notes · View notes

tgcg · 6 months

Text

part 2 of something specific

CG: I’M GOING TO NEED TO WATCH THROUGH IT AGAIN TO REALLY HONE DOWN WHAT I THINK OF IT, BUT FUCK IT, I MIGHT AS WELL SHARE MY THOUGHTS NOW SINCE WE’RE FRESH OFF OF WATCHING IT.

CG: SO, THEY’RE ACTUALLY A REALLY FASCINATING EXAMPLE OF RED ROMANCE. I’D GO SO FAR AS TO SAY VERY SUBVERSIVE OF ALTERNIAN UNDERSTANDINGS OF THE SORT, COMPARED TO WHAT YOU’D USUALLY SEE IN FICTIONAL MEDIA. IT’S LEVELS ABOVE THE TYPE OF DYNAMICS I WOULD TYPICALLY SEE IN MY NOVELS, DISREGARDING THE QUALITY OF VACILLATIONS AND YOUR QUOTE-ENQUOTE “POLYAMORY” PRESENT. BECAUSE SAKURA’S POSITION IN THIS IS PRACTICALLY POINTLESS, BUT I DIGRESS.

CG: ACTUALLY — THAT WAS KIND OF FUCKED UP, BY THE WAY. WHY IS SHE WRITTEN SO POORLY?

TG: remember when i told you about misogyny

CG: I WILL NEVER FUCKING GET THAT. OUR MOST POWERFUL FIGURES WERE GENERALLY GIRLS. HOW THAT TRANSLATED SO FUCKING TERRIBLY IS BEYOND ME!

CG: AND HOW THE SHIT DID THE UNIVERSE *I* HAD A DIRECT HAND IN CREATING END UP BEING SO MIND-BOGGLINGLY BACKWARDS ABOUT ROMANCE?

CG: DID NOT EVEN AN ERRANT TRICKLE OF MY INFLUENTIAL THINKPAN OOZE MAKE IT THROUGH THERE? AT ALL?

TG: not even a droplet my man we decided to be equally anal about other stupid shit i guess

CG: NO KIDDING!

CG: ANYWAYS.

TG: if yall managed to get through that door and reign supreme over the human race for lip smackin eternity you know mens and womens would be macking on each other in various gender arrangements with gleeful wild abandon

TG: itd be a goddamn utopia

CG: FUCKING EXACTLY! BUT INSTEAD I’M HERE. DOING THIS. WITH A GOD, UNIVERSE PENDING. INSTEAD OF BEING A GOD REIGNING OVER A UNIVERSE MYSELF.

CG: *ANYWAYS*!

CG: THEY START OUT WITH A RIVALRY, SURE, BUT THERE’S ACTUALLY NOTHING BLACK ABOUT IT. THEIR FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER ARE STRICTLY POSITIVE, IF HIDDEN BEHIND A MORE AGGRESSIVE FACADE. THE VIOLENCE OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP BOTH COMES FROM THE SOCIETY THEY WERE RAISED INTO, AND SOME OF THEIR MAJOR CHARACTER FLAWS AND INSECURITIES. NARUTO IS FIERCELY DEFENSIVE OF ANYONE WHO JOINS HIS CIRCLE BECAUSE HE’S DESPERATE FOR CONNECTIONS, AND REFUSES TO LOSE THEM AT ANY COST EVEN IF THEY LEAVE SUPPOSEDLY OF THEIR OWN ACCORD. SASUKE SEPARATES HIMSELF FROM THE PEOPLE HE LOVES OUT OF FEAR – AND DESIRE FOR REVENGE AGAINST HIS BROTHER CONVINCING HIM THIS IS NECESSARY.

CG: LIKE, EVEN WITHIN THE FIRST MAJOR ARC IN THE LAND OF WAVES YOU CAN SEE THAT THEY CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER SO DEEPLY THAT SASUKE WOULD DIRECTLY SACRIFICE HIMSELF AND HIS POTENTIAL FOR NARUTO’S. AND BELIEVING SASUKE TO BE DEAD IS THE FIRST CATALYST TO NARUTO’S POWERS BEING RELEASED. THAT IS *REALLY* EXTREME. ESPECIALLY BY TROLL STANDARDS, BUT I UNDERSTAND KILLING PEOPLE IS A MUCH FUCKING LARGER DEAL PSYCHOLOGICALLY FOR HUMANS. THAT KIND OF REACTION TO DEATH WOULD ONLY BE RESERVED FOR A CURRENT OR POTENTIAL QUADRANTMATE… AND IS OTHERWISE ONLY EXPRESSED BY TROLLS WITH DISEASES.

TG: oh yeah like the friendship disease right

CG: UGH.

#davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #homestuck #comix #something specific

500 notes · View notes

chrollohearttags · 1 year

Text

toxic armin as your little mischievous work boyfriend that’s always flirting with you on the clock and trying to fuck on you after hours.

cw: nsfw, black fem reader, friends with benefits, both reader and Armin are toxic, fingering, car/public sex, mentions of weed; both consuming and selling, and vaping, perv armin, (he uses a bit of vulgar language), infidelity, backshots, squirting, oral sex, bulging, spit play, daddy’s used like once

📝: just a little random drabble I thought of at like midnight last night as one does and couldn’t get it out of my head. Toxic Armin is my new obsession as of late. This is also inspired by my boo @lemmetreatya ‘s lovely, amazing series!

working with Armin was always an adventure in and of itself. Someone who looked so innocent and sweet, always being as helpful as possible, would have never made you guess that he was the exact opposite, later on down the line! Having both been employees of the local convenience store for a few months, specifically the night time, where you’d catch a few stragglers coming in and out to buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. Third shifters heading out for the long twelve hour intervals ahead and stocking up on energy drinks, chips and candy to keep themselves awake. All in all though, it was fairly peaceful so it left much room for the two of you to get acquainted. You would go an hour or two at a time without so much as a single customer walking through your doors. Oftentimes, leaving you to your own devices. That’s when you first came to know Armin for who he truly was.

both of you college students, working part time for a little extra money but it didn’t take long for you to learn of his real occupation..watching him go outside for frequent ‘smoke breaks’; sucking on a vape pen while passersby would slide their hand across his for some sort of exchange. And he knew every single blind spot around the perimeter to avoid getting caught. The first sign that you knew this man was slicker than oil. That boyish charm was fooling nobody! But you were no snitch and you’d keep your mouth closed, as long as he promised to supply you with your own free of charge. “I got you as soon as we clock out, don’t worry..” It was a small compromise he was willing to make..especially for a pretty girl like you. Having a friend and his own personal eye candy in one made this shitty little side gig all the more worth it. So the two of you would sit in the chairs, watching surveillance and whatever show you were into at the moment from your phones to pass the time. Not to mention, talk shit about your clientele and any other topic that came to mind.

including the most taboo one..however, it did arise one night while you were in the backroom, getting ready to do a restock and you were confiding in one another about ex partners and how bad the relationships were. Now, he did have a notorious reputation for being a fuck boy as well so you took his words with a grain of salt. Even so, it was entertaining to listen to his tales of him having sex with girls who would sneak behind their boyfriends backs to come see him. Supplying them with the dick they so desperately craved before blocking their numbers and never talking to them again. “Damn, Armin. So you doing bitches like that? I’m scared of you..” always joking and teasing him as he tried to downplay his own efforts. You couldn’t judge him too much though because there was a slew of niggas on your own line that you had ghosted after getting ate out and then dipping before giving anything in return. Maybe that’s why you two got along so well..you were equally toxic! Still, he’d just give that same nonchalant shrug and pretend otherwise.

“You’re so crazy, (y/n). I have no idea what you’re talking about. All I do is work and go to school.” And indeed, that’s exactly what it would seem to anyone who spotted the baby-faced boy..with his pouty expression and pretty blue eyes. His blonde shag, always a little scruffy but styled just right. A single tattoo going down his forearm and a tongue piercing between his lips. It was easy to see why anyone would leave what they had at home for his ass. But you weren’t the only one with wandering eyes. Armin would catch himself stealing glances at you as you stowed away boxes. It was a horrible thing to do but sometimes, he’d watch you struggle for a bit to place one on a high shelf just so he could see your tits as your tight fitting shirt lifted or that thick ass jiggle in your pants. “Sorry, let me come help you.” His favorite phrase to utter after getting his eyeful.

he couldn’t lie, he had his fair share of girls but not one was seeing you in any aspect. From that pretty dark brown complexion, deep set matching eyes, tall frame and stacked, curvy figure. Your makeup and nails stayed laced..he had never once caught you without long acrylics, a new install or fluttery lashes, whether extensions or minks. Two gold nose cuffs sitting on your nostrils and a freshly started tattoo sleeve going down your forearm. Courtesy of your tricks that would be lucky to get anything more than your conversation. He respected it, honestly. One look and it was easy to see why you were always having your way. You could probably talk him up out of his clothes and a little cash too. This job was nothing more than a means to an end for you both. Something to pass time and make a little pocket change.

also, the perfect place to hook up after hours! You had developed a pretty promiscuous habit of flirting throughout the night; making little slick, dirty comments to each other out of earshot of anyone and even sneaking feels away from the view of the camera. When you’d bend down, he’d press himself against you..slowly rutting those hips to your backside. Rubbing up on your breasts. You didn’t make it any easier when you subtly bounced it on his pelvis to make him hard. Garnering a tiny damp spot on the fronts of his joggers. He couldn’t help it when you were so fine..and thick as hell. “(Y/N), if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were trying to get me in trouble.” “You are smart. How’d you know?” It didn’t take long before you could no longer hold back on those desires and things came to a head one night when he offered to take you home after getting off a little earlier than expected due to a pipe burst in the store. You were perfectly capable of driving yourself but he had other plans. Once back in the parking lot of your apartment complex, he’d hand off the complimentary he promised you after making sales and you vowing your silence.

normally, he’d pre roll your blunts but he had to see you in action for himself. Sitting in his passenger seat; windows tinted, doors locked and the subtle thud on music playing through the speakers of his Infiniti G35, Armin so casually reclined his seat as you placed the ground up seedlings into the papers..flicking that long tongue across the line to seal it up. The way he glared up at you, subtly chewing on his lip with his eyes half shut.. “..what’s wrong?” “Oh, nothing..you just look pretty tonight, that’s all.”

a compliment that shouldn’t have meant anything coming from his mouth but the way he so suavely uttered it, you couldn’t help but to feel something. You’d pass the blunt back and forth, getting high in his front seat until you began to feel a buzz..one that worked its way to your private areas! “Y’know (y/n)..you can lick a blunt real good. Thought I should tell you that..” Randomly declaring in his intoxicated state as he leaned over and brushed your cheek. At first, only making you laugh. “Nah, I think your ass is just nasty.” And he wouldn’t attest, not one bit. Instead, he’d offer to prove just how right you were!

his hand slowly creeping up your shirt and working to unfasten your pants. Those little lips brushing against your own in a weed induced haze and eventually blossoming into full blown deep kisses. Those once dormant fingers found home inside of your panties as your work clothes began to disappear from your bodies. His shirt off and tossed on the back floorboard as he crawled closer to you. Those lanky digits working their way around those wet folds and plump lips. Hearing you moan against his mouth in reaction to having your clit massaged. Watching your reaction as he buried it to the knuckle. Eventually, he’d work it inside; watching you nearly claw the leather off of his door handle as he spread your legs wider and fucked you with those fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, I can barely fit another one in..” but he had plans to stretch that little pussy out before he left. Soon, you’d find his head resting between your thighs and the sounds of slurping arose from that seat. “Oh, fuck..Arminnnn. That shit feels so good..” whimpering with that blunt in one hand and his golden locks in the other. So greedily and proudly devouring your cunt as he had never done any other woman before. For further lube, he’d glance up into your eyes; his cheeks sandwiched between your palms and ask a favor:

“Spit in my mouth, right now.” Further proving what you said earlier to be very true. Even so, you did as he asked; leaning forward to let saliva drip between his teeth and he ate to his heart's content. “Nasty ass..I love it.” Soon, you’d find yourself making a massive mess of his chin and center console. By the time he was finished, you left him with a mouthful of sweet nectar..the best he had ever tasted. And him being your best eater by far!

“I’ve never had anybody make me squirt off of head, you something else.” Laughing as you tried to fein embarrassment. But he wanted to see that pretty smile and you taste the remnants of yourself. Running his finger underneath your chin and feeding you sloppy pecks. “That’s nothing, baby. I can keep you coming all night.” Besides, you were his first experience with one so he couldn’t wait to feel that first hand..watching you flow all over him. But first, you wanted to return the favor and let him get a taste of what you had to offer. It wasn’t long before you found yourselves on the backseat; ass up in the air and his khaki sweats shuffled around his ankles. Seconds later, you were swallowing him whole. Sucking on his tip and looking into his eyes as you did so. You’d slather him up in spit, jerk him off until he couldn’t take another moment of teasing and start fucking your face. Forcing your head down on his cock until you cover him in all that saliva. And just because he was so good to you earlier, you don’t let up until he’s filling your throat full of nut and shaking violently from his orgasm. “Goddamn, (y/n)..!” Kissing you immediately after you make him come.

from there, you found yourselves fucking wildly; letting him give you rough backshots as you fogged up the windows in a weed induced haze. Only taking him halfway with a thumb in your ass until you opened up for him to fit more; Intoxicated on it and each other. “This dick feel so fucking good..” “..yeah? So who does it belong to now? Tell me.” And the answer was blatantly obvious. Letting him pound you like crazy until he was satisfied with what you said. Even choking you until he elicited the correct response.. “You daddy..it’s yours.” Losing count of the amount of times you make one another climax until you’re both too exhausted to move. You wetting him up and him emptying himself inside of you, begging with the promise of getting you a Plan B if you allowed it.. “I don’t want to pull out, baby..let me nut in it, please..” and the way he talked you through your orgasms, you were more than glad to do so!

by the time it came to an end, it was nearly four am and you were both so exhausted that you allowed him to spend the night at your place. Needless to say, there wasn’t much sleep once he got you behind closed doors…beating you sore in the shower and then fucking you slowly from the side until he fell asleep with his cock nestled between your folds.

from that day forward, your part time job became all that more exciting. And your partner in crime turned friend with benefits made the night shifts much more tolerable.

2K notes · View notes

lustlovehart · 4 months

Text

Cease The Blaze

A/n: Takes place a little after “Scarlet In Black”.

Summary: [Yandere] Blade isn’t so sure anymore whether or not you are safe anymore, not even from yourself. It brings a question to his mind, should he try to save you? Or should he watch as you crumble by your own hand? He already knows the answer, and it’s definitely not the latter.

Warnings: Reader is wounded, Possessiveness on Blades part, Burning, Implied Imprisonment, Kinda angsty, Blade desperately wants to protect reader but doesn’t know how anymore

Blades eyes stare the deepest holes into your soul, his fingers wrapping the once pristine white bandages around your chest, his fingers grazing against bare skin, leaving a tingly feeling through your nerves.

"You really didn't have to do this Blade, I could've-" His fingers tighten significantly, though you don’t think he was trying to hurt you. “Gh..! I could’ve wrapped myself up…”

“No, you don’t need too. I’m doing it.” You don’t reply to him, only looking down at his hands as they worked, you didn’t dare to look into his eyes, they’d just serve as a further means to shrink down in embarrassment. When he finally finishes bandaging your wounds back up, he sits right next to you on the rock he made you rest on.

It was night where you were rested, the fire that laid in front of you burning a brilliant flame, it’s too bad you should never touch it.

“So, I thought you were in another solar system… Do you have some sort of third sense for me specifically?” Your eyes finally make contact with his own, smiling a little in hopes of lightening the tense mood with a joke.

Majority of the time he just looks at you, but there are a few instances where you can notice a tiny little quirk in his lips. You guess that isn’t one of those times though, with the way he replies in his usual straight face.

“If that’s what you wanna call it.”

“So you’re admitting to just magically knowing when i’m in danger?”

He lets out a firm ‘mm’ sound to the question. You assume he’s only agreeing to stop you from asking anymore, but even then it makes you laugh a tiny bit.

“Don’t know whether or should be creeped out or thankful? Kinda comforting knowing i’ll have you come rescue me whenever I need it.” For a moment you notice Blades eyebrows furrow, the moment once more going back to a stifling aura.

In his own mind, he finally thought about it, he had been too preoccupied with the feeling left in his chest to notice it himself, what happens when he can’t come to your aide? What if someone else caused harm to you and he couldn’t stop it. No, perhaps even worse, what if you cause your own demise?

After he had finally found something in his eternal damnation he enjoyed, is he really willing to let it go that easily?

“Not always. Don’t be so naive with your thinking. I’m not an aeon who will be the back of a chair you can easily lean on. What happens to you when you lay back and there is nothing to keep you from falling?”

“Wha…? What are you talking about…?”

“You fall [Name]. You fall and get hurt.”

You’re not too sure on how to reply to him, so you go back to gazing at the sparks of the blaze. A few minutes pass by, no maybe not even a few, half an hour had went on, neither of you speaking a word.

The inferno dimmed slightly, yet the fire felt even hotter than it did before. Your palms reach out without even thinking, finally feeling the burn before Blade bandaged had firmly grabbed onto your wrist.

“Do not touch that.”

“I wasn’t going to…”

The two of you don’t say anything else, your eyes only making contact with the inferno again. It was no longer as pretty as it once was, in fact, all it did was burn your eyes. Not Blades though, he wasn’t looking at the fire, he was only looking at you. Hesitantly, his hand grabs onto your shoulder pulling you in. His movements were stiff, yet you let him.

“I don’t want you to suffer.”

“What? Like-” you only stop yourself before talking more. ‘Like you?’ It was messed up, but you were starting to get sick of the vagueness in his words.

“Last time I saw you, you were covered in blood, not even a speck of your regular clothes could be seen. You shouldn’t worry about me being the one who’s ‘suffering’.”

“It’s blurred together, everything. The only thing that isn’t fogged by scarlet in my memories is my past.”

“Why don’t you revisit that past then?”

“That it is no longer there for me to revisit.”

Hot. The fire is burning you again. You blink a couple of times looking back at the man, no, the weapon perhaps?

“I have something else in front of me that isn’t tattered in bloodshed, I’m not willing to loose that.” He pulls out a red ribbon from his side, taking care in wrapping it around your wrist, the color reminds you off his eyes, and it smelled faintly of strawberries. When he finishes it up, he had shaped it into a tiny bow on your wrist, it’s kinda cute.

“What did you mean by ‘not willing to loose that?’ By the way? Is it another one of your cryptic sayings?”

“No. I mean it truly this time.”

For once in the moment, he doesn’t look at you, while all you did was look at him, confusion littered around you face.

After than neither of you spoke a word, until you dozed off, the last thing in your vision being the way the fire had went out, as if it had never been there, the only remains of it being the ashes it left in its wake. Blades calloused hands were still on your body, like before, he feared if he let go for even a moment you would be gone too.

Carefully he lifts you up, carrying you through the plain of nature that had surrounded you. In moments like this, he would always return you to the comfort of your bed, never leaving a trace of him behind for you to find.

“So Bladie, are you finally gonna bring them along with us? It has been a thought of yours for awhile has it not?” Her voice was undoubtedly the most recognizable thing about her, that and her blank eyes that always seemed to hold no fear. “The night I was waiting for you two, I expected you to bring them along right then. Why now hmmm?”

“They’re not safe. That won’t work.”

“I thought it would be their choice whether or not that was okay.”

“No. I want them to stay. If it means keeping them away from themself even, i’ll do it.”

His footsteps clank against the steel floor of the Stellaron Hunters ship, Kafka following close behind.

“Is that enough for you Bladie?” Her tone is of the usual, a bit condescending and playful, yet it makes him pause, if even for just a brief moment.

“If it means even a minutes escape from my suffrage.” She smiles at him, closing her eyes as they continue strolling through.

She knows what he said isn’t true. It won’t take long before his greed for you takes over, craving for more of your warmth as he starves for whatever you can give him. Maybe if he had taken you sooner it wouldn’t hurt so bad to watch you reach for home in front of him.

When you wake all you’ll remember is the way the fire had felt, the final feeling of the outside you can ever feel for yourself. In your last moments, you wished you had touched that flame, even if it meant being burnt.

———

Gonna be completely honest, I actually don’t enjoy the way this came out, but i wanted to highlight the softer side Blade has for Reader? While also showing how much he wants to keep them in his life. It definitely could’ve been better, but if it’s that bad, i’ll just rewrite it another time.

#hsr x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail x reader #star rail x reader #yandere hsr #yandere blade #yandere #yandere honkai star rail #yandere blade x reader #vesperwrites #yandere yingxing #yingxing x reader

327 notes · View notes

ineffablesuffering · 8 months

Text

Pub Quiz (Crowley X Reader)

*not my gif!*

Warnings: use of alcohol, i think that's it? oh and crowley in a turtleneck - thats a major warning.

Pairing: Crowley x gn!reader.

Word Count: 2,355 (i got a bit carried away writing this whoops)

Note: to the lovely anon that sent me a request; i'm working on it! i see you!

Masterlist

_____________________________________

“Oh, c’mon it will be fun, you never want to do anything fun,” you whine.

“I’m plenty fun,” Crowley said, sipping his whisky. You roll your eyes at him. The Drunken Donkey was hosting a music quiz and you were desperate to go. You had grown up around all sorts of music and back when you were a young teenager discovering the world of ‘decent music’ as your dad had put it, he would test you on your knowledge and it was something you had become quite fond of.

“Please,” you beg, “I’ll buy you a new plant, wash the Bentley, and buy you a drink.”

Crowley let out a sigh and looked down as he swirled the whisky in his glass. It’s not as if he had anything better to do with his time and he was rather fond of spending time with you, not that he’d ever admit that. An uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, feeling pulled on his heart when he looked up at you to see you giving your best puppy dog eyes. “Fine! Fine,” he said exasperatedly, “but don’t complain when I beat you.”

“We’ll see about that,” you say with a cheeky grin.

A few hours later, you were waiting for Crowley to make an appearance outside The Drunken Donkey. You had returned home to get changed into something a bit more appropriate for an evening in the pub, and so it seems had Crowley. He rounded the corner and you had to try to stop your jaw from hanging open. He wore all black, which was nothing new but the turtleneck jumper? Yeah, that was new, and he looked downright sinful.

“Well don’t you scrub up nicely,” you say when he approaches you, butterflies erupting in your stomach.

“Not so bad yourself,” he comments with a smirk. Your cheeks flame. “Ready to lose?”

“Oh, you’re so on.”

You both head inside and Crowley heads to find a seat in the busy pub as you approach the bar.

“What can I get for you my lovely,” the woman behind the bar said. You order yourself your favourite drink and a large Talisker for Crowley, before tapping your card and heading off to find him.

“For you,” you say placing down the whisky in front of him. He shoots you a small smile that’s enough to make you clutch your drink a little bit tighter before sitting down opposite him. “So basically, you need to have this app to take part in the quiz, you just put your name in it and then tap the right answer. Simple! Do you need help or are you old enough to do it by yourself?”

“Oh, very funny,” he huffs pulling his phone out and situating himself. “Now remember; no crying when you lose,” he smirks at you. You just look at him as you take a sip from your drink.

“We’ll see about that,” you put your own information into your phone. “Shall we make a bet?”

“A bet with a demon Y/N? That’s a bit risky, even for you.” He gives you a wicked grin and he leans in closer. You can smell his cologne at this proximity, and it makes your palms sweat a little bit. You really do need to sort yourself out.

“Well,” you lean in, not letting the proximity to him make you nervous. “I’m feeling rather confident tonight.”

“Okay then. If I win, you have to buy me a coffee every day for the next two weeks.”

“And if I win, you have to drive me around in the Bentley for two weeks, chauffeur hat and all.” You smile sweetly holding out your hand. He grins and shakes your hand.

“Deal.”

Soon the quiz master is telling you the rules, and you feel a sense of nervousness in your stomach. Maybe this was a bad idea, he did have nearly 6,000 years of experience on you, which is an awful lot of time to listen to music. The quiz master explained that there was to be four rounds; the 1980s, the Naughties, Guess the Next Line and a round specifically dedicated to Queen. Crowley perked up when he heard the last round, he smiled smugly at his phone, thinking he had this in the bag. It would be nice to not have to pay for coffee for two weeks, he thought to himself. He takes a quick glance at you over the top of his sunglasses, seeing you slightly wiggle in your seat. Your nerves, weirdly, gave him a sense of confidence.

“Okay ladies and gents, Round One: The 1980s,” the quiz master starts. The first song plays and within the first second, you’re tapping the answer.

“What?” you say as you look up and see Crowley staring at you slightly open-mouthed.

“How did you know that so quickly? The song barely started!” he points out.

You feel your nerves start to disperse and that sense of confidence washes over you again as you shrug with a smug smile on your face getting ready for the next song. The opening notes to The Look by Roxette play as you tap again within the first few notes of the song. You start to sway along in your seat. You hear Crowley growl as you continue to get the questions right and get them right quickly.

Soon the round comes to an end and the quiz master puts the leaderboard up and you smile smugly at Crowley as you see your name at the top of the board and him close behind in second place.

“What was that about you beating me?” you grin cheekily.

“Shut up,” he grumbles “It’s only round one. Don’t get too cocky.”

You giggle at him; the host announces that they are starting round two. You shoot him a wink before looking back down at your phone getting ready to start. You miss the redness that dusts his cheeks.

After the end of the round, you find yourself at the top of the leaderboard again, but this time Crowley is only a few points behind you and getting closer.

“I’m catching up to you, Y/N,” he says smugly, “You seemed to miss a few songs there, are you slipping?”

“No,” you say confidently. “I just know the 80s better.”

“I see,” he finishes his drink. “Another?” He gestures to your now empty glass. You nod at him before he heads off to the bar. A small smile graces your lips. You rather enjoy spending time with the demon. You love spending time with Aziraphale too, but this was different. Crowley just seemed to get you and your sense of humour. He was kind, although he would never admit it. He once acquired a first edition copy of your favourite book for your birthday one year, but he brushed it off as something that anyone would do. That’s when your feelings towards him started. Something about the gesture was so heartfelt and thoughtful that you couldn’t help but fall just a little bit in love with him. You were so lost in your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed the drink being placed in front of you and Crowley retaking his seat.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, startling you.

“Oh sorry,” your cheeks heat again, a common occurrence around Crowley, “I was just thinking about how I can’t wait to be driven around by you for the next two weeks,” you reply cooly, not letting your thoughts get the best of you. He takes a sip of his drink and leans back in his chair, not quite believing you.

“Hmm, I wouldn’t get too comfortable Y/N,” he smirked at you.

Before you could respond, the quiz master introduced the third round. The round went by smoothly, and you were now tied with Crowley in first place, who had been slowly creeping up behind you as the round went on. You felt yourself becoming more nervous as you went into the Queen round, knowing this is something that Crowley would do well in. It really was anybody's game. The round goes by quickly and before you know it the quiz was over. You look at Crowley and he looks back at you. He seems nervous. The quiz master is soon displaying the final results and you see your name at the top of the leaderboard, one point ahead of Crowley.

“Would you look at that,” you cheer smugly, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Don’t be so juvenile,” he groans at you.

“Don’t be so sour,” you grin at him “Oh I can’t wait to have a personal driver for the next two weeks.”

“You just got lucky.”

You lean over the table, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” he said giving your face a once over, ever so slightly lingering on your lips.

You lean back in your seat, feeling quite proud of yourself. “You know, I think I should demand one of those special apology dances you make Aziraphale do for you.”

“Absolutely not.” He said, finishing his drink, “I don’t do the dance.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” you bring the last of your drink to your lips with a smirk.

“Shut up,” he huffs, glancing around the still-busy pub, the quiz long forgotten by everyone else in the room. The night was still young and despite him losing to you, he was rather enjoying his evening and didn’t want it to end. His gaze lands back on you as you type out something on your phone. “Do you maybe want to come back to the bookshop for one more?” he asks. He sounded nervous, as if you might reject his offer. “Aziraphale’s in Edinburgh visiting a friend, and I know he’s got some lovely vintage wine hiding somewhere.”

“Yeah, I’d like that a lot,” you smile at him, and he smiles back. He stands up and offers you a hand which you take, and you walk down the street to the bookshop.

A few moments later, you were in Aziraphale’s bookshop lounging on his sofa with Crowley. You sat cross-legged facing him, and he had an arm stretched behind the back of the sofa, sunglasses placed on the table by the door. You suggest to Crowley that you should put some music on, he snaps his fingers, and the sounds of Duran Duran filled the air. You smile at him, of course, he knows how much you loved them. It’s just the kind of demon he was, thoughtful, kind, and caring. One glass turns into two as the music continues to play in the background and you talk about this that and everything in between. He tells you tales of Rome and Athens way back when and you watch him talk. He describes everything in such a way that draws you closer to him. His hands waving around as he talks, little drops of wine occasionally falling from the glass that he never thinks to put down. He truly was a sight to behold.

“You’re staring,” he said finally placing his glass down.

“Am I?” you say blinking, you turn your head to the side.

“Hey, I never said I minded,” he said, your attention suddenly back on him. Was he flirting with you? The butterflies returned to your stomach, and you couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol or the way he spoke to you. He stood suddenly; a hand stretched out towards you. “Care to dance?”

You look at his outstretched hand for a beat before a shy smile appears on your face as you gently place your hand onto his. He helps you stand and is quick to pull you close to him. You look at him and he looks at you with a small smile on his face as he snakes a hand around your waist. The music suddenly changes into the soft melody of Spandau Ballet’s True. You giggle and hide your head in his chest. Was this his doing? You look up and find him gazing at you.

“So…” you begin.

“So…”

“This is different,” you smile.

“A good different or a bad different?” he asks twirling you.

“A good different.” You say before falling into a comfortable silence. You lean your head on his shoulder and he leans his on top of yours. The two of you swayed to the music as if you were the only two people on Earth.

“I’m glad you dragged me along tonight,” he says softly, the vibration of his words running over your body.

“I’m glad I convinced you to come, even if it means I need to buy you a plant and wash the Bentley.” You laugh. He chuckles.

“Don’t bother,” he says chuckling as he lifts his head. You move your own to look at him. He really did have the most beautiful eyes.

“I guess you’re right, I did win after all.” You grin at him, removing the hand that was once in his and placing it on his chest giving him a tap, “I’m just that good.” His now free hand now found its way to the side of your face. You tilt your head, confused at the movement. His face had an unreadable expression on it. “Crowley are yo-“

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up,” he said almost breathlessly, as he pulled you close and kissed you. A beat passes before your eyes flutter closed and you kiss him back, the hand that was once on his chest now cupping his face bringing him even closer to you. He pulls away just enough for him to rest his forehead against yours. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispers just loud enough for you to hear him.

“Me too,” you whisper back, “Me too.”

He grins at you before kissing you again, his lips warm and soft against yours. He pulls back, a hand still cupping the side of your face, his thumb rubbing up and down against your jaw. “Would you maybe like to go out on a date sometime?” he asks softly. You nod, a smile wide on your face.

“Yeah, I would.”

#good omens #crowley #david tennant #crowley x reader #david tennant x reader #good omens fanfiction #good omens x reader

620 notes · View notes

intimacyequalsdeath · 3 months

Text

Will you be my Valentine?: Sugar Day 1 Thomas Hewitt

Welcome to day one of my Valentines fic event! This event will last 7 days and end very obviously on Valentine's day itself. Each of these fics will be simple cute little fluffy fics to celebrate the holiday. I hope you all enjoy <3

Notes: Minors DNI, Fluff, SFW, No real warnings. No specific descriptions of reader or pronouns are used. If pronouns are ever used, reader will go by they/them.

On most days, the gas station was boring. Boring as hell to be exact though you'd never say that around Luda. You sat there all day in hopes that some stupid lost college kid would roll into the middle of nowhere gas station desperate for directions of any kind to get the hell out of here. A shame really that the only directions you knew were to the Hewitt household.

The rusted old bell above the door chimed to alert you that someone had entered the station. Your head snapped up from the outdated magazine that you were flipping through for the hundredth time in hopes for whatever dull human interaction you could get from whoever rolled in. When your eyes met the patron though you were even more thrilled.

"Tommy!"

You squealed as the giant of a man lumbered into the station. He walked right up to the counter you were stood at as the slightest smile could be seen through the mouth portion of his mask. You leaned over the counter to press your lips against his and he welcomed the gesture.

"You came to see me, must be slow with the meant at the house?"

Tommy shrugged and gave a sort of "I guess so" look before holding up a finger as if to say "give me a second" as he turned to head back out to the front of the station. You watched with curiosity as he walked out of sight and then returned with a small cardboard box.

Over the top of the brim of the box you could see a bundle of some of the wildflowers that grew in the unmanaged field beside the house. You smiled as Thomas once again made his way back to the counter.

He produced the bouquet first. Handing it to you with a smile grunt and a fierce red blush poking through his mask.

"Oh tommy their beautiful!" You squealed taking the flowers from him and inhaling their scent. You loved the smell of the flowers that grew by the house that even Luda insisted on always having a vase of them on the dining room table, even if Hoyt bitched.

"Tell me you didn't get more grass stains on your pants that I'll have to wash out picking these though?"

A look of guilt took over the blush, and you couldn't help but to laugh.

"Tommy! I just got the stains from the last bunch of flowers you picked out!" you teased him.

You tried to sneak a peak over what else he had in the small cardboard box, he noticed this and softly moved the box out of your line of sight before pulling something else out from it.

There, now sitting on your counter from the cardboard box was a small teddy bear. It had mismatched eyes and various random patches of fabric covering holes in it's fur.

"Oh Tommy..." You cooed looking at the small plush bear. "He's adorable!"

You looked at Tommy and thought that if it was possible for him to get any more red he might actually explode.

"You did all this for me Tommy? Why?"

Tommy gave half a headshake and then pointed over to the old calendar on the wall. The calendar was the only thing that Luda kept up to date in the station since it helped her keep up to date with her far and few between doctors appointments in the next town over.

You walked over to the calendar and unhooked it from the wall. When you placed it down on the counter Tommy pointed to the 14th of February.

"This is what you got me for Valentines day then?" A smile etching your face.

Tommy nodded enthusiastically. Luda Mae must've told him about Valentine's day, and planted the idea for him to do something for you for it. When you rolled in and Luda finally was able to see a future for her beloved boy she was thrilled and would do anything to help you two along.

"I love them Tommy, thank you honey"

Tommy gave a "You're Welcome" grunt and a head nod. He took one of his giant hands and reached across the counter to cup your cheek, you leaned into his warm hand as he caressed your face.

The shrill ring of the rotary phone on the wall brought the two of you out of the trance, you walked over and picked up the phone.

"Hello?"

"Goddamnit is that blockheaded boy down there at the station?!"

Hoyt all but screamed down the line, you turned to look at Tommy who could obviously hear Hoyt yelling.

"Yeah Tommy's down here, why?"

"He just up and fuckin left! We have meat down in the basement to get cleaned up but as soon as he heard somethin' about goddamn Valentine's day he wandered off"

You smiled slightly and fixed Tommy with another look. Tommy shrugged and you could make out an up and down motion in his shoulders almost as if he was laughing.

"I'll tell him to head back Hoyt, Don't worry"

Before Hoyt could answer you had hung up. You made your way back over to the counter and put your hands on your hips.

"Thomas Hewitt" You playfully scolded the giant of a man. "Did you ditch your work to come and give me Valentine's day gifts?"

Tommy looked at you for a moment before nodding with an obvious smile peaking out from underneath the mask.

"Well, my shift here is done for the day, would you like to accompany me back to the house?"

Tommy gave an eager nod as you collected your flowers and the cute little bear and walked around the counter. He offered you his arm, as you tucked the bear underneath the one holding the flowers, and you happily accepted.

The rusted bell above the door dinged in notification as Tommy opened the door for you to step outside first. You stepped out into the warm February Texas afternoon as Tommy followed and reoffered his arm.

"If you get home and get your work done, I'll make you a very special Valentine's dinner for all your hard work?" you asked, looking up at him as you walked.

Tommy eagerly nodded as the two of you made your way down the abandoned road back toward the Hewitt house together. With nothing but the warm Texas sun, the breeze that cut through the humidity and a cute little patch work bear.

#slasher x reader #slasher fandom #texas chainsaw massacre #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader #texas chainsaw 3d #thomas brown hewitt #valentines day

238 notes · View notes

gatheringbones · 6 months

Text

[“Turns out that being a lesbian outside of the privacy of your own home was quite hard. I’m not talking about the various manifestations of homophobia—oh, that old thing. I’m talking about scoring. Picking up chicks. (As it turns out, I would come to prefer the type of woman few would recognize as female, the type who would cheerfully deck you if you called her a chick, but might, if I were lucky, see me as such: a chick, a babe, a femme fox.)

In the oeuvre of Mr. Spillane, being a lesbian seemed so easy, like shooting fish in a barrel. In my favorite lesbian novels, No Blonde is an Island and My Gun is Quick, all a gal had to do was brush up against another woman by the water cooler and, watch out, the sapphic sparks would surely fly. Lesbianism was something any woman could do, no special equipment, messy creams or liquids were required.

But when I walked into my first dyke bar in New York City, I had a rude awakening. It was like transferring to a new high school. No, it was worse than that. A new junior high school. You walk into the class on the first day and everyone turns to stare. Your clothes, your hair, the way you move, it’s all wrong. You have to change everything or die a horrible and lingering death.

I guess the moral of this story is that there are some pursuits, such as lesbianism, that one can’t learn from a book, no matter the author. A more crass sort might make some tasteless jokes at this juncture about “boning up” on lesbianism, or about “hands-on experience,” but the reader can be assured this dyke will not sink to that level.

I watched the other women dancing, talking, flirting. All transactions were conducted in a lingo as incomprehensible to me as straight guy sports speak. My late-seventies disco fever look was out of place here. Everyone looked like they’d raided the closet of their bigger, older brother while he was out repairing refrigerators.

I was the only one wearing makeup.

Someone approached me: “This is a gay bar.” I shriveled up and a gust of wind blew me out into the street.

I had no skills. No lesbian skills. I was stared at, rather than cruised, at the bars. I couldn’t find a way of singnaling to another dyke that I was open for business, a friend of Dorothy, in the life, on the bus. Let alone desperately horny.

Somehow I managed a few invites to lesbian parties. I’d figured out that wearing lipstick was wrong, but I was still doing it. I’m such a congenital WASP that my lips disappear without makeup; I couldn’t imagine having sex without lipstick. I had tried to pull a lesbian look together: oversized second-hand men’s clothes, an unbuttoned black vest, but Annie Hall does not work on someone five feet tall.

Nor could I play softball. When something is thrown at me, even if it is specifically designed for that purpose, I automatically duck. All I had going for me in the lesbian skill department was ownership of a cat. Enough to break the ice, but not cinch the deal.

Certainly I couldn’t just come out and ask some other dyke to show me the ropes, so to speak. The seventies were still going on even though it was now the eighties. Feminism and lesbianism had kind of merged, become one big multinational entity with Andrea Dworkin as CEO. You had to be sneaky to get laid.

Yikes. It had been so easy with men. All you had to do was bend over at the bowling alley and something would happen.

After two years, the drought ended. I saw a sign that advertised: “Double-X-Rated Christmas Party for Women.” The party was held in the basement of a Catholic church. Perhaps the priests had passed out upstairs and had no idea what was going on. Or perhaps the priests were the drag queens working the bar. Nevertheless, I was there as soon as the doors opened. And the doors were not the only thing that opened.

I walked into the basement where the party was taking place and saw rows of thrift store tuxedoes, second-hand prom dresses. The doorperson made it clear that these outfits could be borrowed for the evening. After they checked their coats, many party-goers were borrowing outfits from the racks and disappearing into the bathroom to amend their attire. As the evening went on, I noticed more and more women trading in their flannel and denim for sharkskin and taffeta.

At this, my first encounter with the women who produced the WOW Festival and would later open the WOW Cafe in a tiny linguini-shaped storefront on East Eleventh Street, I fell in love. In love with all of the women, with their outrageousness, their unruly desire. I wanted desperately to be a part of whatever it was they were doing…if the WOW Cafe had been a support group for lesbian skeet shooters, that’s what I’d be doing now.

Instead, I found theater, or it found me. And the theater, it seemed, offered a wonderful solution to my involuntary celibacy: the casting couch. In theater you are encouraged to have sex with as many people as possible; it’s an integral part of the process. At least at WOW it seemed like the shows were almost an afterthought to the flirting, a byproduct of the endless parties where women of every imaginable gender rubbed up against each other.

This last paragraph reads like a natural cue to cross-fade to the Story of the First Girlfriend, doesn’t it? At this point, I should see a stranger across a crowded room, our eyes should lock, and the violins should swell like wieners on the grill. But this scene isn’t part of my coming-out story. Who even remembers my first girlfriend? Not me. I remember lots of bodies, I remember rooms lit by lots of small lights, and above all else, I remember lots and lots of Rolling Rock. This movie doesn’t end with a soft-focus closeup on two women kissing; this is a coming-out story that crescendos into a crowd scene. It’s a wide-angle shot. The climax of my coming-out scenario isn’t a closeup on a lesbian couple but a panorama of a lesbian world.”]

holly hughes, from what comes first, from a woman like that: lesbian and bisexual writers tell their coming out stories, 2000

#holly hughes #lesbian literature #history stuff #gender stuff

352 notes · View notes

moonsbypadfoot · 2 months

Note

can you make another theo nott headcanons?? <3

I do not have anything specific in mind but make it angsty?? I guess

also I made the text small so it'll fit your blog's aesthetic <3 ❤️‍🩹

obviously I can make another theo headcanon 🪼

Theodore headcanons | pt. 2 🩶

(I think I'm dyslexic, so please excuse any typos)

+ kind of an x y/n?? , second pov, longer than the last one

for the little woman fans!

🩶

theo draws like a pro but then complain of how 'cattivo' (which you haven't figured out what it meant yet) his drawing is, even though it is beautiful?? Like what??

theo tries to speak as if he's in an Shakespeare book and his friends (Draco, and mattheo) would laugh at him at how ridiculous it sounds because they don't understand him plus, his accent makes it more confusing

after his friends laughed at him, he would get all grumpy and sad. that's where you hopped in.

"theo, what's wrong? " You scrunched your face. "Theo? " you said, once more, but the boy didn't even move a muscle.

I forgot to tell you, when he's grumpy, he gives everyone the silent treatment.

but, you're an exception.

"theodore, what happened? " You sighed, looking down at Theo, who's head was on the table.

"nothing is wrong" Theo scoffed.

also, he doesn't want to bother you, that's why he tends to lie sometimes.

"something is wrong, look at you! " You said, softly touching his hair, trying to make him look at you.

"fine" he pauses "something is bothering me" he rolls his eyes.

"well what is it? " you gave a small smile, after finally convincing him to tell you.

"can you teach me english? "

at that second you swear that you could laugh "Theo? What? You're speaking English right now! " You chuckled

bad mistake ; he got more grumppier.

he gave you a nasty 'mhm' and lays his head back on the table.

"hey I was just joking, but, nonetheless, you're already good at English"

"see? you know when to put 'nonrtheless', I don't even know what that means! "

The next day, you took him book shopping (for everyone's sake, everyone knows a grumpy Theo isn't a good Theo), and you paid for him

Instantly his mood was better, and he took you to drink at the three broomsticks.

theo keeps smiling and looking at the totebag you crocheted for his 14th birthday. inside was the books you got him.

(he was most excited for little women)

theo paid for the butterbeers you both drank.

after that, it became your weekly thing to go to the three broomsticks every Sunday.

theo also starts to call you 'amore mio', but whenever another boy calls you 'love' he immediately assumes things.

at valentines day, he was weirdly quiet, until he suddenly came to you

"y/n" Theo said, not looking directly at your eyes. "yes, Theo? "

"that's for you" theo sighs.

you gave him a big smile, and hugged him, though, he didn't look very happy.

It wasn't a secret that Theo has a big crush for you, well, lorenzo kinda spoiled that for you,

(talking with enzo, 4 months before valentines)

"I may know a guy who likes you" Lorenzo said, all giggly. You gasped. "Tell me who it is! "

"No I can't! " Lorenzo laughs.

"I swear I'll kill-" He cuts you off, "okay, okay fine! But you cannot tell him nor anyone that I've told you this"

he paused for a second. "it's Theo!! "

It also wasn't a secret that you like him, Lorenzo also spoiled that for him

(2 days before valentines)

"Theo, I need you to do a favor for me"

"What? " Theo groans, dog-earring his little women book.

"You need to make a move on your girl" Lorenzo said, making Theo scoff the second he hears that. "hey, she likes you! "

"Ridiculous" Theo said, opening his book again.

"I will, and you must hear me. It's no use, Jo, we've got to have it out, and the sooner the better for both of us," he answered, getting flushed and excited all at once. "Say what you like then. I'll listen," said Jo, with a desperate sort of patience. theodore was a young lover, but he was in earnest, and meant to 'have it out', if he died in the attempt, so he plunged into the subject with characteristic impetuousity, saying in a voice that would get choky now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady... "I've loved you ever since I've known you, Jo, couldn't help it, you've been so good to me. I've tried to show it, but you wouldn't let me. Now I'm going to make you hear, and give me an answer, for I can't go on so any longer."

After he read that, he realized that if he waits anymore longer you and him wouldn't work out just like theodore Laurence and josephine march.

"Maybe you're right, Enzo, maybe I need to make a move" He said, which made enzo confused but, he was happy either way.

well long story short, that was the start of your lovely relationship.

the whole reason you two got together was because of a book and you think it's absolutely beautiful and poetic 🩷🪼

295 notes · View notes

rebouks · 3 months

Text

Previous // Next

Robin: I don’t mind that it’s not done yet, y’know..? It’s been cold, and you’ve been busy. Oscar: A promise is a promise. Robin: Is there a time limit on promises? Oscar: Well, some.. I guess. [Robin tried to remember if his father had promised him a treehouse on a specific timescale, but he couldn’t] Oscar: Since you’re gonna be off school next week, how ‘bout we take a camping trip? Robin: Really? Cool. Oscar: Uh-huh! Ivan, Bruno n’ Pixie might join us for a day or two if Curly McGee can get time off work. Robin: What about Jude? Oscar: I don’t know about that, bud.. his mom probably signed him up for all sorts of extracurriculars n’ shit. Robin: But he doesn’t like them. Oscar: Maybe not, but that’s none of our business. [Robin sighed; poor Jude never got to do anything fun whilst they were off. If it wasn’t extra tutoring, it was a piano lesson, or a “field trip” to a boring museum, or this or that. Robin hadn’t spent enough time around Jessie to fully understand why she pushed her son so hard, but he was always grateful for his parents relaxed approach in comparison to his friend’s relentless schedule] Robin: Why don’t you force us to do stuff we don’t wanna do? Oscar: I think you’d only resent us for it-.. do me a favour n’ don’t wind up being too lazy though, eh? Robin: Does sleeping ‘til noon count? Oscar: Guess it depends what you do when you get up. Robin: Fair enough. Oscar: Hm, fancy helping your old man since you’re finally awake? Robin: Sure, I’ve got swim class in an hour though. Oscar: Ah, I forgot it was Saturday-.. you like those, right? Robin: I like Saturdays and swimming. Oscar: You better not be pretending! Robin: Nope! Oscar: Good, ‘cause you don’t ever have to pretend around me… [Robin squeezed Oscar, desperately wishing that were true. He wasn’t sure he could ever tell his parents the things he knew, or how he knew. They’d never look at him the same way again if he did, it’d surely ruin everything…]

#ts4 #sims 4 #simblr #ts4 story #sims story #forever in between #fib #oscar finch #robin finch #they're so cuuuute.. send help #;-;#legit been meaning to get oscar to build this damn treehouse forever but he never has tiiiime #GUH

172 notes · View notes

franklespine · 5 months

Text

You know I think you guys might be on to something when you call Sam woman coded cause - genuinely - how do you, as writers of a show, be so misogynistic as to not include any female characters asides from damsels and hookups (specifically referring to the early seasons), and yet need so desperately to have a outlet for macho masculine patriarchy power dynamics that you have an adult male character experience misogyny?? How do you mess up that badly??

It's like, although they thought that putting female characters in the narrative other than to exist as sexy distressed lamps wouldn't appeal to the true blooded 2000s American audience. But yet it was completely necessary for there to be a bottom rung in the masculinity pyramid because - well how else can we as a society function!!

Anyway, ik reading too far into things is my special talent, and in most circumstances all of this stuff is just a joke in the show but wow they really had Dean poking fun of any of Sam's characteristics that don't fit into this Hyper True Blooded American Masculinity ideology as a butt of jokes for 15 years. The fact that he has longer hair, that he cares about his hair, that he's tidy, that he likes salads and isn't a big meat eater, that he's sympathetic, that he's a bitch. And of course these are just silly little jabs that Dean makes in sibling-like fashion but like wow 15 years. Damn.

And of course it's not only this that leads to the rather odd interpretation of a woman-coded Sam, but also the way he is treated directly by the narrative. Like, for example, being the family's possession, rather than an equal member. Dean has seen it as his job to look out for his little brother since he pulled him from the fire and the wellbeing of this infant was thrown onto his shoulders at age 4, and this has created a lot of ricocheting effects on both of them. This isn't to say that Dean doesn't love, care, respect, and value Sam, but it does mean that sometimes he treats him like a possession rather than a person. He makes a lot of crazy decisions in the show that he justifies as being for Sam's own good, even if it goes directly against Sam's wishes. After Sam leaves a note to Dean telling him he's going out for a bit to handle a case, Dean weasels his way in, not trusting him to handle it due to the mental issues Sam is facing at the time, and kills Amy, despite Sam begging him not to. Even though Dean knows Sam would never consent to an angle possessing him, he tricks him into it anyway. He does these things, and many others because he believes that he is acting in Sam's best interests, totally disregarding the fact that Sam has capacity to make judgements and handle the consequences himself, even going so far as to oppose what he directly knows or Sam tells him he wants.

Then of course there is the fact that the fear integral to his character - a loss of autonomy (bodily autonomy, but also autonomy to make his own decisions about his future, to be good, to be pure and faithful), is an explicitly feminine one. Then there is the strong subtext in his story of SA themes, I think in s4 a demon even refers to Sam as a 'whore' or that he's 'whoring it up' (with respect to Ruby), and the interesting prevalent idea of Sam questioning or going against the ideals/ideology of the masculine figure head (which would be Dean I guess) and getting punished for it. Sam suggests that maybe they take a more humanitarian approach with the cow blood drinking vampires in s2 and Dean punches him, Sam tries to get him to talk about their Dad and Dean punches him, Sam tries to get him to talk about Lisa and Ben and Dean punches him, Sam gets caught simply using his abilities and Dean punches him - twice. I think you get the picture.

Anyway. This post comes off as rather critical of Dean, which wasn't really my intention. It's more sort of a broader criticism of the rampant sexism that had its part in shaping the show - being one to come out of the early 2000s. Ideas such as this - you could really go on for hours as its fascinating how ideological frameworks are presented certain ways in media - and the way masculine and feminine social dynamics, to list only one, is presented in supernatural is definitely a can of worms.

#also dont take this too seriously LMAO its late and I am just thinking about woman coded sam #seriously - how did this happen #saw someone else talk about that scene in s7 after sam finds out dean killed amy and dean says something along the lines of #be pissed all you want but dont be a bitch about it #like wow he really called sam a bitch in the way that woman are called bitches #stop being overdramatic and having an irrationally emotional response to the horrible thing i just did to you #crazy #maybe it was the time it was made but genuinely the amount of times dean punches sam in the early seasons #just for having an opinion or wanting to talk about feelings #i was actually surprised #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester #spn meta #i guess #again dont take this too seriously lmao #just a pondering

215 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 6 months

Note

hi love!!! I love ur work sm!! could you perhaps write a Sirius black x fem!reader, but the reader is very masculine? and sirius is more feminine? and maybe rude comments are made towards the reader for this or smthn? sorry if this is a specific request, but this happened to me recently with my boyfriend so i hope it’ll make me feel better. Ty!! ❤️❤️

Hi gorgeous! I'm so sorry this happened to you, people can be such assholes. I know "don't let it get to you" is much easier said than done, but I hope you're able to keep doing you without thinking about them too much. Thanks for requesting <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 602 words

“Baby,” Sirius sighs, wiping under your eyes while you sniffle and try to act like your tears aren’t falling. “You can’t let them get to you like this, gorgeous.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” Your voice comes out bitter; Sirius tells himself it’s not aimed at him.

Sirius gnaws at his lip, taking a moment to look at you while you look at your lap, a stubborn dam of tears shining in your eyes. He wants desperately to make a joke, to make light of what’s happened in the way that always helps him get through these things, but he suspects that’s not what you need right now. You’d come home red-faced and ranting, but it hadn’t taken more than one word from Sirius for your angry facade to crumple. The protective ire that had propelled you home was faded, leaving behind a frustrated sort of hurt.

“I hope you don’t mean me,” Sirius says, shuffling closer to you on the couch so that his thigh is half atop yours. “I can take care of myself, sweetness. Trust me, you don’t need to be angry on my behalf.”

“I’m just—they called you—” Your face screws up in indignant fury, even as a new wave of tears breaks hot and fast down your cheeks. “I just don’t get why anybody thinks they know more than us about our relationship.”

Sirius blows out a breath. Any other time, he’d be the one fuming, but when it’s you that gets like this, it’s like calm rushes over him to balance you out. He doesn’t know how you do it most of the time; he much prefers being the one to rage. “But we know they have no idea what they’re talking about,” he reminds you. “It’s none of their fucking business, okay?”

You squeeze your eyes closed, probably trying to keep more tears at bay. When you open them, the fight seems to have gone out of you. Somehow, this is worse. Sirius’ chest aches for you.

“I know,” you say, softer now. Your hand comes up to hold his face, fingers weaving into his hair hardly an inch below the barrette keeping it out of his face, and Sirius can guess what those pricks said to you. About him. He’s not unused to comments on how he presents himself, but he can understand why you’ve gotten so upset; if someone said that sort of thing about you, he’d open his mouth to yell and flames would come bursting out.

“Hey,” he says. “You like the way you look, right? And you like the way I look?”

He bats his eyelashes at you when you glance up, and you smile just like he hoped you would. It’s a small, tired thing, but he’ll take it.

“Yeah,” you answer him.

“Good.” Sirius mirrors you, placing his hand on the side of your face. “Then if those fuckers want to say that you wear the pants, let ‘em.” He leans down, kissing the soft, ticklish spot underneath your jaw. “Pants are uncomfortable as hell. You can have them, honey.”

You’re laughing by the time he’s finished talking, and Sirius nips at you as you squirm away from him.

“But if you want to try and be more traditional, I could get on top for a change,” he says, holding you in place while you cackle and writhe. “What do you think, gorgeous? Want to satisfy those conservative pricks?”

“No,” you say, panting as you shove him off you. “No. I don’t want them affecting anything we do.”

Sirius grins. “That’s my girl. Let’s show ‘em, love.”

214 notes · View notes

jacesbeloved · 2 years

Text

for the kingdom: part I

summary: being the youngest daughter of alicent, you hadn’t known what it was like to feel restraint until you had been betrothed to the eldest son of queen rhaenyra for a pact. for who? for the kingdom.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x targaryen!reader

warnings/notes: eventual smut (none in this part), mild enemies/rivals to lovers, tension tension tension, arranged marriage, mentions of incest (helaena & aegon), mature themes, sort of toxic relationship i guess, more in the following parts

part: I, II, III, IV

The day that you dreaded the most eventually dawned upon you.

The grand halls were now packed with people, lords and highborn families reveling in House Targaryen's opulence. Your family is seated beside each other at the table in front, facing the guests.

Your body desperately wants to be freed from the beautified torture device called your gown. The red and green accents signify the unification of the once divided houses.

The youngest daughter of Alicent Hightower betrothed to the eldest son of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen.

The loud drums sounded while the guests diverged, leaving a clear aisle as the grand door opened to the family of your betrothed. Rhaenyra and Daemon walked in front, while in the middle stood Jacaerys, with his siblings and distant family walking behind.

He had a welcoming look on his face, much like the looks on both of your families. His eyes never leave yours as he arrives at the front. You gracefully stood to your feet, walking over to the front of the table where Jacaerys had waited for you.

"My betrothed." He announces with pride, taking your hand and kissing it. The crowd was applauding and cheering at the sight. You two smiled at each other before turning to the crowd and proceeding back to your places, knowing full well that the smile meant anything besides happiness.

"Be welcome to your future king and queen consort, the heir, Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and the queen's youngest daughter, Princess Y/N Targaryen!"

Half an hour had passed and it had bored you significantly. Wanting nothing more than to ditch the feast and ride your dragon around Westeros and have fun. So far, you have only been concerned with putting on a pretty face for the crowd and eating your food while listening to the best wishes of your guests. There was not a word spoken to each other after the earlier event of Jace kissing your hand.

"There's nothing wrong with smiling, you know." Jacaerys whispers discreetly in your direction. You side-eye him. "And yet, there is everything wrong with this marriage."

Jace heaves a heavy sigh at your response. The two of you were betrothed out of duty. With Rhaenyra offering up his son to wed Alicent's daughter to certify the alliance between the two families and to keep the House Targaryen unified and as one, it was only in a matter of a few deliberations that Alicent agreed to the proposal.

The prince dutifully accepted his betrothal, not seeing much of it aside from it being his responsibility as the heir to the iron throne after his mother.

You, on the other hand, despised it. Growing up, you were surrounded by your family. Your mother's degrading words towards the other family, followed by your brothers' comments—Aemond, specifically— Rhaenyra's family didn't have a good image in your mind.

You were never the heir, nor were you in front of the line. You were the youngest in the family, and you expected to be their last choice.

But now here you were, every bit of freedom you once had now stripped away from you in a matter of agreements that you weren't informed of. No more sneaking out at midnight, controlling and playing with highborn children your age, irresponsible feuds with knights, drunken nights in the streets, no more fun.

Although you two appear to be happy with each other, that patience of yours is gradually fading.

Leaving your face resting on your palm as you watched blankly at the crowd, your betrothed handled the guests, wishing the both of you good wishes.

"I know you don't desire this, but remember who you are going to be." Alicent interjects, filling your cup with wine again. "You are going to be queen consort. You are, one day, going to rule the 7 kingdoms and that is not the attitude nor the face of a future queen to her subjects and husband."

You snort at your mother, finding it hypocritical coming from her. "Thank you for the encouragement, mother." You say with heavy sarcasm, taking the cup of wine in front of you and downing it. Your older brother, Aegon, smirking at the sight of you drinking the wine in one singular chug.

Jacaerys asked for your hand once more, standing over you as you heard the instruments go into the deep and traditional rhythm for dancing. The deep thunder of the instrument resonating throughout the grand hall made everyone watch you two closely.

Your little dance with the prince was far from comfortable; it was full of tension, full of strict movements, and challenging glances from you. Jacaerys was different. He had composure, disciplined movements, and the face of a future king: proud, confident, and charismatic.

"I heard you sneaked out last night, ordering your guard to not follow you." Jacaerys speaks, his eyebrows arching.

"And where would I be, dear husband?" You replied, twisting your head sweetly to smile at him. Something you always do when you need one of your suitors to do something.

He chuckles at you, the look you gave him seemingly doing nothing. "In the bars, I'd venture."

You hum, narrowing your eyes in a challenge. His answer wasn't really what you expected. "And do you believe the hearsay? That I did sneak out? That I ordered my guard to stay put?"

Jace juts his lips out a bit, analyzing your face. He then discreetly shakes his head no, so discreetly that you're sure only you could have noticed it.

"No. I choose to believe the word of my betrothed rather than a nobody's."

Your arms pulled him close, resting around his neck as you held the back of his head. His breath fans over your exposed neck.

"If it makes you anymore secure, I didn't."

The ceremony of your wedding has finished.

Both of you were officially husband and wife, future king and queen of the 7 kingdoms.

Dreading the exact moment your lips touched his. It seemed more like a peck than an actual kiss. Not until you take the matter into your own hands. Kissing the prince deeply. The two of you pursing your lips silently as you pulled away.

You have gone back to your now shared chambers, changing back into your casual dress, ridding yourself of the extravagant accessories and jewelry that they placed on you. Thinking of going back to the hall after leaving Jacaerys there.

Your eyes go over the interior of the room. The once messy and very-you chambers that you owned are now different. The bed was different, the furniture inside was different, the colors and accents were different as well. Everything was.

The air shifted from where you had stood. It's settling all the more in your head. You can never be free now.

Forever chained up by the duty you are placed into.

You clutch the necklace you received from Jacaerys before the wedding, a piece of Targaryen ancestry given to him by his mother for you, made from pure Valyrian steel.

"Is everything alright?" A soft voice speaks in the silence of the room.

You're back in your head by then, seeing your husband watching you with concern from the doorway. "Aside from our wedding, yes. Everything's fine." You nod at him.

Jacaerys felt himself grow sympathetic at your look, knowing that you probably dreaded this marriage the most.

"Y/N, I'm sorry... for, uhm, all of this. For being betrothed to you." Jacaerys begins to speak, getting a curious look from you. "It wasn't my desire to take you away from your freedom. However, it is still our duty to uphold the responsibilities bestowed upon us."

The man walks closer to you, placing his hands behind his back.

"Whatever you are feeling now, Y/N, I feel the same way. I am merely doing this-" "What am I feeling, Jace? You seem to speak blindly about feeling the same way I do." You raise your eyebrow at him in demand. "I don't know. Hate? Loathe?" Jace quietly chuckles, eyebrows furrowing the same way. "Regardless of it all, like I said, it is our duty. And I swear to do my best as the heir to the iron throne," he breathes, "and also... as your beloved."

He lowers his head at you out of courtesy, and you look at him blankly, never really one for nice things. His head slowly rose up to see you looking at him suspiciously, analyzing him. "What is it that you are asking, Jacaerys?" You ask directly.

"I am asking for us to look beyond our differences. We are already wed. There is nothing we can do to be apart from each other, no matter how much we desire to be. The best thing we can do now is... accept it. Tolerate each other."

You sighed loudly, placing your hands on either side of his chest. "It seems that you are right."

The prince was confused. It was only a few hours ago that you told him that this marriage was the most outrageous thing you had ever experienced in your entire life. Telling him that you'd rather be put back into your mother's womb than accept the marriage.

But here you are now. Could it be a change of heart like Jacaerys had hoped for?

"Instead of loathing you, I should be thankful to be betrothed to you. It's not every day that you get betrothed to a... strong," you patted his chest, his body tensing as his jaw clenched, keeping a straight face and calm composure.

"Handsome, and respectful man." You finish with a mocking grin on your face. Waiting for the man in front of you to burst at the sensitive subject.

He should have known that there truly wasn't anything that you accepted in the whole agreement. You are too far down in the rabbit hole of hate to ever see him differently. even if only as a companion and not as a lover.

"Strong enough to protect me..." He watches you through the mirror as you walk around him, letting your hand glide across the expanse of his chest.

"Your brothers have influenced you, I see." He laughs dryly. The prince walks away from you with a vague smirk. He faced you as he sat on one of the large plush chairs near the bookshelves, undoing the laces of his shoes as he started to get ready for bed.

"Don't expect a reaction from me anytime soon, princess. I can assure you, I've already given enough reaction to your brothers. I pretty much do not care and you should too, Y/N."

You look at him dumbfounded, him merely brushing you off like you weren't taunting him since the second he entered your shared chambers. He kept his eyes focused on unlacing his shoes, not noticing that you were in front of him once more.

He hums at you, awaiting your word as you stand in front of him silently. "Is that so? Then, you wouldn't care even if I called you a bas..." You let the words trail off at the end, tilting your head to the side. Wanting to push your husband's buttons.

Jacaerys looks at you with an indescribable glint in his eyes, waiting for you to finish the word. He rises to his feet as he takes a step forward, deep brown eyes staring down figure as he urges you to finish your sentence.

"Go on."

You take a step towards him as well, not backing down from the prince. Tilting your head at him, the sides of your lips slowly lift.

The prince waited for the word he had expected to come out of you. Your lips were already shaped to whisper the word.

The air became even more tense with the two of you being an inch away from one another. His breath hit your face the same way yours hit his. Both of you were standing your grounds, your eyes staring at him in amusement.

When you remain silent, he scoffs quietly before walking past you. He undoes the ties and buttons of his top before changing into a more comfortable top, then changes into his pajamas, all the while you had your eyes glued on his movements.

You watch the tall man in fascination, seeing him tidy up the cushions on the massive bed as he finishes changing, facing you with cautiousness. His hands were clasped in front of him.

"Do you wish to go to bed?" His voice echoes loudly throughout the room, his arm extending towards the bed.

You start pulling at the strings of your gown, and Jacaerys looking in the opposite direction, much like a young boy's reaction to someone undressing in front of him. He stood awkwardly, face tout and blank.

You scoff loudly at him, "We're married, Jacaerys. Let's get rid of the malice already." You pull off the dress and put on a night gown, thin and short enough to go just a few inches past your knee. You'd soon be the one running your hand all over my body, ravishing and touching it however you pleased. Full of want and desire."

Jacaerys clenches his jaw once more. His feet were firmly planted on the soft carpeted floor as he waited for you to finish changing.

"You see, women are expected to preserve their maidenheads for their betrothed. To keep themselves pure and clean for their husband." You walk over to the prince, crossing your arms on your chest as you stand in front of him once more.

"What would you think if your wife's maidenhead had already been taken, dear husband?"

He takes a second to watch over your face, his features firm and blank again just like earlier.

"A maidenhead does not make a woman any less of one. Whether or not you still have your maidenhead does not make you any less pure, nor does it make you dirty. It is your choice to lose it to whoever you want to."

Your lips stretch downwards into a subtle smile, his eyes slightly narrowing at your expression. You swallowed the lump in your throat before climbing onto the bed and laying on one side.

Jace finally gets to breathe properly after that, exhaling deeply as he joins you in bed. Both of you are lying straight up awkwardly, a clear boundary between the two of you.

"Have you ever bedded a woman, Jacaerys?" The mockery in your tone made him roll his eyes. He pursed his lips in silence as he ignored you.

"Since we are to be together for as long as time permits us, I believe it is only appropriate for me to know about my partner's experience." You sat up on the bed to grin at him, provocatively placing your hand on top of his strong chest. Loving the way his face hardened and reddened at the topic.

He continues to ignore you, his mouth sealed shut while staring at the ceiling.

"Come on, there's nothing to be-"

"Y/N." Jacaerys cuts you off sternly, glaring at your teasing look. "If my experience is such a dire thing for you to know, I can let you experience me right now if it pleases you."

You laughed at the annoyed look on his face, the way this conversation was sensitive for him made you amused.

"Trust me, Jace. If I wanted to experience you, we wouldn't be fully dressed right now, sitting on our bed, a meter apart."

Your sarcastic giggles filled his ears, letting your body fall back on the soft cushion as the two of you remained separated by the invisible barrier.

"Good night." He sighs.

"Have you two done it?" Aegon asks you as soon as you enter the library. He and Aemond were sitting opposite each other while Helaena sat on the couch not far from them, quietly sewing an image of a bug.

"What do you mean 'it'?" You glare at him, sitting far away from the older sibling.

His eyes widen while shrugging plainly, his arms moving in front of him as if holding a woman's waist from behind before he started thrusting into the air. Laughter came out of his mouth while you and Aemond looked at him with an "I am disgusted" look. Your forehead creased in disgust, throwing one of Aemond's books at the older man, eliciting a groan from him and a tired sigh from Aemond.

"Don't ever do that again. I don't want a visual of what our sister has to suffer each night." You spoke fluidly, desperately trying to erase the past ten seconds out of your memory.

"Suffer!?" Aegon exclaims. "The only one suffering out of all of us is you. Having wed that unexperienced bastard of an heir, I doubt he could please you even with all of his efforts." He spat, Helaena warning him about his words. The four of you share a knowing glance at one another, letting the library fall silent because of Aegon's continuous badmouthing of the Queen's sons.

"But who cares, right? Future queen of the seven kingdoms," Aegon spits, taunting you. The title at the end sounds condescending rather than encouraging.

"You do know that I can order the guards to cut off your tongue, right?" You titter back, eyes flickering at him in challenge. He snorts at that before letting the subject go.

The time in the library was cut short when a familiar figure walked in. The only odd one out in the library amidst you four. Your brothers glaring at his every step while Helaena kept herself busy. Not bothering to indulge herself in the internal wars between your husband and your brothers.

Aemond sneaked a glance at you, the sides of his lips rising as he eyed the younger man.

"Brother." He spoke, his voice full of mockery.

Jace maintains his blank expression, nodding subtly in recognition. He kept his hands behind his back as he walked over to you, your brothers' stare following him.

"May I excuse my wife for a moment, brothers?"

The two men arched their eyebrows at you, and you did the same as you smirked subtly at them. "She's all yours," upon Aegon's response, you rose up to stand in front of your husband. Hearing Aegon mutter another taunt under his breath before chuckling, "brother."

Jace's jaw clenched at the mocking of his brother-in-law, extending his arm out for you to hold as he led you out, ignoring the useless remarks of your brothers.

"Where are we going?" You ask. Attitude laced your tone as you kept a poker face.

The man holding your hand leads you out to the courtyard, a single horse appearing into view, making you glare at him. Awaiting his response.

"We're going to see the 7 Kingdoms. Mother had told us to bond." Jace speaks with a frown. His hands pulling at the saddle on the horse while you cross your arms, not daring to move from your position.

"Bond? With you? I'd rather stay here." You started walking back to the halls before Jace spoke again.

"It's an order from the queen." His firm face and clenched jaw told you that he hated this just as much as you did.

You glare at him furiously, shaking your head in defiance. Telling him that you'd rather feed yourself to your dragon than ride with him on a single horse around Westeros. You could be training, or resting in the godswood, or better, toying with the men around the Red Keep. Anything is much more entertaining than going around the kingdom with him.

"Very well," he responds casually. "We'll ride our dragons then."

#hotd #jacaerys imagines #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon fic #jacaerys x reader imagine #jacaerys fluff #jacaerys x reader #jacaerys targaryen #hotd fics

2K notes · View notes