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irndad · 7 days

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kiss me (under the milky twilight)- s.r.

a/n: this took so long and i'm so sorry! based on this post- reader has an ex that she keeps running back to, and spencer just wants her to see him. fake dating and hijinks ensue. VERY long. 4.6k words!! thanks to @fadingplaidtrashpatrol for ur thoughts and ideas!! masterlist // ask

The unraveling begins on a Friday.

This is one of the rare Fridays where a full weekend is staring back at them, and Spencer is immeasurably pleased at his plans. He’s rented a Russian old movie, and his best friend had agreed to sit next to him on his shitty old couch while he whispers translations in real-time.

He loves spending time with her, a little hedonistically. She’s so kind, warm in both spirit and disposition, and Spencer treasures the time he gets to spend with her. Her desk adjoins his, and so one might assume that he could tire of her presence, but there’s something a little addicting about her, something he tries to have as often as he can.

On this fine evening, she’s wearing an oversized sweater tucked into jeans- her position is mainly out of the field, and so she takes full advantage of the dress-code flexibility. Lovely earrings hang around her face, adorning her lovely features like a frame.

Spencer’s more than a little in love with her.

This has never really been a convenient fact, but Spencer’s used to wanting things he can’t have. And it was never really feasible not to want her- anyone who’s ever been in her presence would know this. It’s a foreign feeling, looking over at someone he’s lucky enough to know, and wanting them enough for that desire to turn into fantasy.

“Spencer!” She greets him warmly, standing up to do so- if this wasn’t a workplace, if she was meeting him at the cafe like they do on Wednesdays, or his home, like she often finds herself in whenever he invites her, Spencer is certain she would wrap her arms around him in an incredibly warm hug.

Because they are in the BAU, she believes it is inappropriate to embrace this way (which Spencer would argue isn’t true, given the way Morgan and Penelope are with each other, but if he told her that, it might be a little too obvious how desperate he is for her to touch him.)

The way she beams at him almost makes up for the fact that he doesn’t get to hug her.

“I got you something,” he says in lieu of a response, clutching the bag of muffins in one hand. He’d woken up early to get her to stop by her favorite bakery, and it was worth it to see that look on her face. No one’s in the office now, the day long finished, and they’re getting ready to walk to his place. He lives so close by, and he’s grateful for this fact when they walk together back to his place.

She grabs the bag, and he’s just so endeared by her, the giddy expression written over her lovely face.

“Have I mentioned that I love you? Because I do. You need to marry me, immediately.” She says to him, eyes closed in bliss, and even though she’s clearly joking, Spencer finds himself preening at her praise- wouldn’t it be incredible if she meant that? It sounds so pretty in her voice. I love you.

He beams back at her, in a way he hopes doesn’t betray how much he wants.

“I’m glad you like them,” he says back, his heart in his throat.

“I have some news that you are going to be incredibly mad at me about.” She says, and a crumb is on her painted lip, and fantasy of kisses that he cannot have enters Spencer’s mind before he can shake it away.

“I could never be mad at you.”

“I think I have to raincheck tonight,” she says almost sadly, her voice apologetic, as though she has no choice in the matter.

“Is everything okay?”

He had picked up her favorite snacks yesterday night, tidied up his apartment top to bottom.

“Josh texted me- he’s going through something and he needs me to come over-“

“He doesn’t need you to come over.”

He rarely interrupts her, and he usually isn’t capable of being upset with her. He’s not really even upset with her now, but this is so exhausting, watching her deal with this asshole.

It is a continuous surprise to Spencer that someone like her can be in a position like this.

Through Spencer’s eyes, the idea that anyone can not be in love with her is almost an impossibility. It’s not even his bias alone that makes him think this- it’s the truth of her.

Josh is an asshole finance bro who works in the city center, and Spencer hates him more than most serial killers.

He’s fucking careless with the thing Spencer wants the most in the world. Josh knows what it’s like to be with her, to be the person to falls asleep with her in his arms.

Sometimes when Spencer can’t sleep, which is quite often, he pictures her soft cheek on her chest, pictures what she would feel like entwined with his own body, legs tangled with his and her fingers in his hair. It’s a sacred thing, this image- even though it isn’t real, Spencer knows he values the imagination of her presence more than Josh gives his attention to the real thing.

They’ve “gotten together” and “broken up” and “started talking again” about 12 times respectively.

Spencer could kill him.

“Spence,” she sighs, shaking him out of his angry stupor, “please don’t be mad at me. He’s really going through something right now- he needs someone to be around. Besides,” she breathes out, “I can’t dump him.

“Why is that?” He tries to temper his tone, but the memory of her mascara running down her cheeks as she sobs in his arms shoots through his mind, and manifests as a physical sharp pain in his chest.

“That wedding is coming up,” she murmurs, looking down at her shoes. They’re scuffed, and Spencer thinks she might be embarrassed. Why should she be? He’s the asshole. “I told people I was going to have a date. Do you know how many people are going to be there, Spence? How many people are expecting me to bring my boyfriend?”

Her best friend is getting married. Spencer knows this because she’s told him, and told him gleefully when Josh had agreed to go with her. Spencer remembers thinking that he’d like to punch a wall.

Anyway.

She’s the last of her friend group that’s not in a long term relationship, and in some twisted way, he kind of gets how Josh would be better than nothing, if you didn’t want to be seen as alone.

“You don’t want to go alone.”

“Yeah, Spence.”

“I could go with you.”

It escapes his mouth without his permission, and he regrets it almost instantly. Because there’s no fucking way she’d go with him. He’s lanky and awkward and his blazers never fit and his ties are always tied wrong, and she’s beautiful and wonderful in ways he finds new ways to see everyday. He’s not a solution to her being worried about how she’s seen, he’d only make it worse-

“You would do that for me?” Her voice is small as she asks, and it shakes him out of his thoughts. He looks down at her, eyes softening at her lovely face. She looks touched, and he has to wonder, doesn’t she know?

He’d do anything for her.

“Of course,” he breathes out, a nervous hand playing with the strap of his bag, “If it gets you to stop giving that asshole the time of day, I’d do it a million times.”

Her face shifts in a way he can’t read, and she swallows.

“I can’t let you do that.”

“I want to,” he says, “Please. It would be fun, C’mon. You’re always saying I need to get out there and do things.”

“Being my fake boyfriend at my friend’s wedding is not getting out there and doing things,” she pouts, and his heart nearly jumps. It’s pathetic, but hearing her refer to him as her any kind of boyfriend is intoxicating. He wants to hear it, over and over.

“It’ll be fun,” he says, touching her hand as it rests on the table, making intentional eye contact. She has been prettiest eyes. “C’mon, let me do this for you. I’m sick of this guy.”

She gulps again, an endearingly confusing gesture, and he finds the feeling a little desperate. Pick me, choose to be with me, even if it’s just pretend.

“He’s going to be there anyway,” she breathes out biting her lip in a nervous gesture, “I- I’d owe you so much, Spence. It would make him jealous, I think.”

It’s a little hedonistic, how much he would enjoy that, he thinks. Someone would see her as his girl. He knows she might be doing this to get Josh’s attention, but still- the evening together seems like too lovely of a thing to turn down- too wonderful of a chance to not offer. He’d take a night of pretend over never getting to be with her at all.

It’s enough to make him ignore that making Josh jealous is probably the reason she’s saying yes.

“Okay, okay! Spencer, will you do me the honor of taking me to Julie’s wedding?”

“I would be honored.

The weeks approaching the wedding are a bit of sweet torture. She’d had the idea that they could practice, whatever that meant, and the memory of it lives in his mind rent free. They’d been watching the movie, already touchier than most would allow of best friends. (She’s his best, Spencer’s just the tiniest bit resentful of Julie).

She’d been sitting next to him on his worn out couch, her legs thrown across his, and true to his word, he was whispering the translation along to the movie. She smiled at him, watching his mouth move instead of the movie, and he felt tingly under her stare. How wonderful and bright it is, to be under her gaze. He kept speaking even though she wasn’t watching, because he imagines that if he stops, she might look away.

Then, she had held his hand.

Grabbed it really, fingers lacing with his own, and Spencer’s brain had short circuited. She has soft hands, he had thought to himself, and it was about the only thing he could manage to think.

“We should practice,” she had whispered, even though it was just the two of them in the lowlight of his home, “Y’know, so people believe us.”

He didn’t say that he’s pretty sure no one needed to be convinced he’s in love with her.

“Sure,” he had nodded, and squeezed her hand, “I think that’s a great idea.”

So they’ve been practicing.

This has been in equal measures wonderful and torturous. She walks with him to work on half the days, with her fingers twined with his own, and Spencer finds it intoxicating that any passerby would assume he belongs to her.

More than he already does, anyway.

Her affection is her own, just turned up to 11. She’s gorgeous- this is a fact that was not instrumental in his love of her, but ornamental- still, this is hard to ignore when she touches him as much as she does now. When she’s out with the team at the bar, she rests her hand on the small of his back- he preens every time at this. This is simple, her domesticity, her claiming his presence as her own- it’s more than nice, Spencer realizes. It’s wonderful, to be wanted by her. Even if it’s not real.

On this night, they’re celebrating. They caught the unsub before he’d been able to kill his first victim. This is a rarity in their field, and she’d given the interview that had gotten the confession. It’s the closest to field work she’d gotten, and they’re all celebrating their win. Her win.

She looks like a figment of imagination, lovely in a way he literally cannot believe he didn’t conjure up in fantasy. Her favorite song is playing out of pure serendipity, and Spencer likes that word for her. She is serendipitous as a whole.

“Do you want something to drink, honey?” The endearment feels warm and natural as it comes out of his mouth. His hand is resting on the small of her waist, and he knows he’s being egregious with the practice thing. But this is so nice, her leaning into him, one drink deep and touchier than she is tipsy, and he loves this. He loves that under this pretense, he gets to know what she feels like in his arms.

He hands her the water before she gets to answer, and she happily sips it.

“Are you proud of me, Spence?” Her voice is immeasurably fond and he drinks it in like a man starved.

“Of course,” he smiles at her. I’m always proud of you, he thinks. “You did so well, love.”

He’s not used to endearments, but she showers him in them. Before their little pretending, too. Called him dove, honey, darling. Packed an emergency lunch in his go bag in case he forgot his. She’s such a good friend, and he wants to be her lover more with each breath.

He tries to return them, now.

“Good,” she says serenely, looking at him in a way that kills him, because he will never, ever kiss her. She can hold him, and look at him like that, and he will never get to be with her, “I think my cider is too sour,” she scrunches her nose, and his heart swoops.

“I’ll get you something sweeter, baby.”

“Yeah you will!” He hears Morgan laugh, and he flushes bright red. No one seems surprised, by how touchy they’d been. Even Hotch- he’d expected a talk, but then got a stern nod of understanding in its stead.

She sips the sweet drink he got her, a little cherry on the step, and he thinks he’d do anything to keep looking at her.

Five weeks to the wedding.

He can do this.

“Could you do me a favor, Garcia? I come bearing gifts.”

Spencer’s snuck into her office- there’s not much to do today, but she hadn’t wanted to take PTO for no reason, so here she is, in her feathered and pink glory.

“Is that a hot chocolate? From Dominicks? Ooh, you play dirty, Dr. Reid.” Penelope almost squeals, and despite his nefarious purposes, he finds himself joyful- it’s alwaysgood to talk to her.

After a joyful, eyes closed and serene sip, she asks, “Alright, my sweet furry friend, what can I do for you?”

“Could you check on a Josh Collins for me?”

“Isn’t that your girl’s ex?”

“No,” Heat rises to his cheeks, before he can help it. “She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh, and my favorite color is black.” Penelope scoffs back, but begins typing furiously anyway.

He needs to know what is so fascinating about this guy. Because lately he can’t figure it out. He’s always fucking hated the guy, even though he’s never met him. He never had to- she’d shown up enough times at Spencer’s door crying, been broken up with and brought back enough to know that this guy is awful. Doesn’t even come close to deserving the woman that she is.

“He’s a financial analyst at a Marketing firm, went to state school for his Bachelor’s, says here that he played football in college, but I don’t think they met until after,” she says, “Oh, he has a scuba license. And skydiving! Looks like he’s a bit of an adrenaline junkie.”

It’s an evil thought. Is that what she likes? He finds it hard to imagine, picturing the moments where she’s wrapped up in his arms on a movie night- that always seemed to be her preference. In, not out.

“Is that him?”

There’s a picture of him on Penelope’s screen. Josh is chiseled and strong, smiling brightly in a polo on a jet ski- this is a photo posted on his social media, and Spencer has met a million of this guy. They bullied him in school. Spencer as genius and he’s a lot of things, but that will never be one of them. It’ll never, ever be him.

Good to know, anyway. Better not to fantasize about what he knows he can’t have.

On the day of the wedding, it’s actually a 6 hour drive. She’d offered to get them plane tickets, but he enjoyed his time with her. He was also desperate to extend the time until the wedding was over, and she’s probably the only person he wants to be trapped in a car with.

They’re sharing a hotel room. She’s booked two beds, which he’s honestly grateful for- if they’d shared a bed, he might’ve combusted.

Still, there is so much intimacy. She sings in the shower. He imagines a world where he’d know that in domesticity, where after a night spent in laughter and something like love, she showered in his home. But that’s not how he knows it. He knows it because he’s at her best friend’s wedding, pretending to be her boyfriend.

When she comes out of her bedroom, she’s gorgeous.

She’s got a green and purple dress on, a cinched waist and a sweetheart neck, a dash of plum lipstick on her lovely pout, and he’d like to kiss that smile very, very much. She’s a delicate kind of lovely, saturated in sweetness, and it’s sweet torture to have her this close.

“You look...” He struggles to find words, an uncommon occurrence in his life, “Like a vision.”

It’s sentimental and warmer than he wished he sounded, but god- she’s stunning. She looks like she’s made of old film, beautiful in that way that’s just a bit too good to be true. He adores her more with each breath.

“You think it’s okay?” She speaks to him with her doe eyes adorned with a concerned expression. He wants to kiss it away.

“You look lovely,” he says, a vast underselling.

The ceremony is a lovely affair, and Spencer learns that she cries at weddings. The bride and groom have lovely, saccharine vows, and Spencer tries not to picture a wedding that he will never get to have.

It’s a little bit impossible with her at his side.

She’s touchier now, even mores then when they were ‘practicing’. Her hands are warm laced with his own, her head leaning on his shoulder, and he feels lucky to have even a piece of getting to be with her.

At the reception, she is tackled by her friends, and he performs dutifully as the caring boyfriend. It’s not hard.

It’s a lovely night. His arms glued to the small of her waist, and he’s been introduced as her “genius FBI agent boyfriend” many times tonight. He turns bright red every time.

“This is my boyfriend, he’s the smartest ever,” she brags when she’s half a drink deep, and he cherishes the ability to draw circles on the small of her back in this moment- his words fail him in moments of praise, and touch is an avenue that he is rarely allowed to use.

“I don’t believe that intelligence can be accurately quantified-“

“Which is a thing that humble geniuses say.”

So he’s having a great tine.

Her lipstick is transfer-free, and his cheek is proof. She’s so affectionate his heart keeps doing somersaults. There’s a signature cocktail with some pun in the couples name.

“I’m fucking obsessed with these, Spence,” she says, a light airiness to her voice that he recognizes as her tipsy voice, “Can you get me another, my love?”

“Yes, honey.” He smiles at her, and kisses the crown of her hair before leaving her in the company of her friends. He’s indulging a bit too much, he’s aware. He’s going to have to give up this up when the sun rises, like some fucked up fairytale where Cinderella never gets the guy because she’s not worthy of it without the pretense.

“Could I get the house cocktail?” Spencer asks the bartender, flashing a smile at her with the giddiness of knowing he will return to her.

Spencer had nearly forgotten that part of the reason he was here was because of Josh.

Who is at the bar.

“Hey man- you’re the dude she brought, right?”

Josh is actually about 2 inches shorter than Spencer, and Spencer makes the most of this difference. He’s a broad chested muscle man, but he looks woefully underwhelming.

“Yeah, I’m the lucky guy.” Spencer replies in a deadpan tone, turning to face him with a stony expression.

“Careful, man,” Josh says, and it’s a little pathetic how he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t care, “She’ll chew you up and spit you out.”

“Really? Because it seems like you’d leave a bad taste in anyone’s mouth.”

“Whatever, dude. It’s clear that she just brought someone to make me jealous.”

“Actually, while I can’t read her mind, I imagine you’ve slipped hers entirely. Clearly your entire energy is based in whatever ego-driven shell your youth has shaped you into- and maybe one day someone will care enough about whatever tragedy made you the way you are, but I am deeply uninterested, and I’d wager she is too.”

He’s not sure if this is true, but Spencer’s noticed that in the time since their ruse has begun she hasn’t mentioned Josh. Not once. She might not love Spencer, but she might not see Josh anymore.

“Also, if you ever speak disrespectfully of my girlfriend again I promise you it will not end well for you.”

His voice is even and has an underlaying of quiet rage. It’s wonderful to call her that, even more so as she enters into his eye line.

“You looked mad,” she says in lieu of a greeting, her nimble arms wrapping around his waist with fluid ease, “Is everything okay?”

It’s only then she sees Josh, and there’s something wonderful about knowing that she came here to check on him. Josh is about to say something, he can tell even though he’s only visible in the corner of his vision.

It’s a calculated risk but he chooses to do it anyway.

When he kisses her, he doesn’t know what to expect. It falls into line like puzzles into place, one of her hands falling to his waist and the other cradling his jaw with a delicate softness. She leans into him totally and this is an intoxicating feeling- her lips are so, so soft and it’s what he’s been fantasizing about since she first smiled at him and asked him to keep going when he was rambling about Russian literature.

It’s actually better.

When she pulls back, she scans the space. Josh is gone.

“Well that had the intended effect,” he says- it seems better than anything else, like confessing that the only reason he did it was that he could. He kissed her.

She nods, clearly a bit frazzled, and fuck-

“I should have asked, fuck, I’m sorry-“

“No, no, you’re okay, um-thanks for getting rid of him.”

Her voice is hollow.

Despite the awkwardness of the kiss, which Spencer cannot stop thinking about.

Did he imagine it, or did she lean in? Did she sigh into it? How is he going to ever get over the fact that he’s never going to do that again?

Her lipstick is grape flavored. Now they both know that.

They get back to the hotel at half past midnight, and she’d been a little distanced- not so much they still didn’t look like a couple, but enough that Spencer knows. They’re winding down the artificial love affair, and all of the things he’s become kind of addicted to are going to go away. Her fingers running through the tendrils of his hair, her delicate fingers rubbing tiger balm on his temples when he’s got his migraines. Her cheek kisses, the honeys, my loves, sweethearts.

Kissing her.

When she drops her bag on the hotel bed and sits on the edge of it, he sits next to her. She’s been quieter, since the kiss.

“Hey.”

“Hey back,” she replies, bumping her knee with his in fondness.

“I’m sorry I surprised you with, you know.”

“Kissing me?”

“I should have asked- I’m sorry.”

“I’m not upset that you kissed me,” she says, looking down at her shoes, “I’m upset that you only did it because you wanted to spite Josh.”

“What?”

“I know that this is my problem, Spence,” she says, “You never… led me on, you know? I know that this was always my thing to deal with. Being in love with you was never something that I thought would be a problem. But when you offered to go with me- to pretend to be my boyfriend, how could I pass that up?”

This makes no sense.

“I know,” she runs her fingers through her hair in a frustrated motion, “I know that it was never a good idea. But the idea of getting to be with you was just too much to turn down, even it it wasn’t the real thing. And now we’re going back to normal and I promise that I will go back to being your friend. It might take me a second, though-I might need some space.”

She needs space from him? Because she can’t transition away from being his fake girlfriend?

“You don’t need space from me.”

He’s so fucking bad at talking.

“Spencer-“

“No, no,” because now he has a shot- now there’s a reality where the pit in his chest doesn’t have to live there forever. He can be with her. Because for some crazy, insane reason, she wants him. “You don’t need space from because I don’t want space from you, okay?”

He sits next to her on the bed, eyes a little crazed with want with nowhere to go.

“I’m not sure what you mean.” Her voice is tempered, and he thinks he hears hope.

“I love you. I am in love with you. I’ve been in love with you as long as I’ve known you,” he grabs her hand-it feels desperate to say and he sure he sounds it, “I didn’t kiss you because I wanted to spite him. I did it because I couldn’t live with the idea that I would spend the rest of my life never have kissed you.”

He probably would say more- so many things are coming to mind, most of which are pleading. She’s the only thing he’s ever wanted this much. Before he gets to, though, she kisses him.

It’s sudden, as all things of this nature are, but he pulls her close on instinct. She ends up on his lap, her hands around his neck, and it is so rare that fantasy lives up to reality. But this is better, the feeling of the weight of her pressed against him and the taste of her grape lipstick.

It’s a minute when she pulls back, and it takes everything to not chase the contact.

“I love you too,” she says, the sweetness of it dripping from the sound of it. He wants to hear it again, and again, and again.

“For real?”

“For real.”

When the run rises in the morning that follows, he’s wrapped around the length of her like a vice, right and close to him, Her head rests on his chest, and while there is another bed there, it’s clearly not seeing any use.

He’s never slept better in his life.

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

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g0niki · 4 months

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taste tester── y.jw p.js

pairing: bf!jungwon x reader x jay

word count: 1.9k

contents: no protection (wrap it up 😓), oral (m&f receiving), light pussy slapping, finger sucking, slight exhibitionism, light size kink, jw is a little mean🫶

a/n: I haven't written in a long time and quite literally wrote this at 3am, feedback and comments would be appreciated! i am very nervous to post this.

jungwon had jokingly mentioned having a threesome with jay on multiple occasions before, and every time without fail you had said no… but at this moment you were reconsidering.

jay's in the kitchen cooking up something for you and won since you're the only ones home at the moment, won showering and leaving you to watch jay with a focused pout resting on his face as he cuts up the meat and throws it to a bowl on the side.

you never really understood what your boyfriend saw in jay, sure they were close but he wasn’t all that...

ok, jay was all that, he is all that. the way his hands moved as he worked on the meal was making you feel some kind of way, your thighs slightly rubbing under the table imagining him holding you down so firmly and having you squirming... so maybe you wanted jay to join... just once though!

you wouldn't even have to tell won, coming out of the bathroom hair wet and clothes hanging off his body loosely, jungwon isn't an idiot,

jungwon can immediately tell just what you're thinking by observing you from afar, knowing that you're having conflicting thoughts at the moment, he'd come up from behind you and wrap his arms around you, kissing your neck and speaking into it

"feeling hungry pretty?"

the pet name alone was enough to let you know exactly where his mind is, gulping down at his tone. he'd place one last kiss on your throat, sitting down next to you and lightly patting his lap, definitely up to no good.

"cmere I’m cold" he'd use a pouty voice,, to anyone else it would seem like he's being his usual clingy self but this alone was enough to make your mouth dry. you could never say no to sitting on your boyfriend’s lap though, immediately scooting over and sitting on top of him, he'd wrap his arms around you and rest his chin on your shoulder, pulling you back against him.

"look pretty, isn't jay hyung so nice to us" oh you were fucked "should we watch him cook?"

won pushing your hair behind your ear and lightly biting on it causing you to push your hips back on him.

"be quiet, wouldn’t wanna break his focus" You can hear the fake pout in his voice, feeling his hands massage your thighs as he now kisses your shoulder, letting his tongue trace against the bare skin and lightly sucking now and then.

"look at him, trying to do us a favor yet all you can do is squeeze your pretty little thighs shut and stare. it's rude to not help."

you wanted to bang your head on the table in front of you,, won being so close to touching you over your shorts yet continuously teasing you right behind jay's back.

"jay's missing out on the best entrée right here." finally, won's hand is lightly tracing your clit. your thighs squeezing around his hand desperately and a small sound leaving your throat, his glancing over his shoulder to check on you.

"sorry.. hit my knee"

"be careful,, dinners almost done"

━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━

needless to say, that was the quietest dinner you had ever experienced, thighs sticking together as you picked at your plate. jay watching you with an eyebrow arched up, he knew you were picky but you usually loved it whenever he cooked.

"something wrong?"

his voice slightly makes you jump, unable to even look at him in the moment.

"yeah, what's wrong pretty?"

and of course, jungwon had to play dumb, you could see the smile he was biting back and as much as you wanted to be upset with him he was so badly turning you on.

"nothing just-" and before you could finish your sentence won's hand is back against your thigh, tracing shapes against it "nothing."

jay leaves it at that.. picking up his plate and walking over to the sink still just as confused as a moment ago but not willing to press any further.

"actually, y/n had a question for you hyung!"

you had never wanted to strangle your boyfriend more than right now.

watching as jay turned around and fondly stared at the two of you.

"yeah, what's up?"

you were out of words, staring with your mouth open not able to play off the situation.

"tell him, baby, you know what we talked about, ask him."

jungwon pushed you closer to the topic, a smile on his face as his hand continued to brush against your thigh, usually, this would be comforting but in this moment your heart was sinking, and you were throbbing.

“y/n, you can ask me anything you know"

and hearing jay be so ready to cater to you was almost enough to get a sob to leave the back of your throat.

"ask him pretty, or i will." the small smile on won's face was enough to send shivers down your spine, goosebumps coming up all over.

"jay... would you want to help us out.." and gosh you felt like you could hear your voice quivering as you asked, you had never been more nervous than right now.

"... with?"

"don't play dumb hyung. I can see you holding back right now."

your stomach sank. won definitely knew a lot more than he let on, you had never heard him be so harsh towards jay before and it was leaving you soaking.

"just look at her hyung, look at how she needs you, how badly she wants us."

hearing won talk about you like you weren't even there was honestly a bit overwhelming, you could feel your face and ears getting how wanting to do nothing but hide behind your hands and forget this was even happening.

"let her say it won, talk to me y/n."

you were going to have to swallow your pride for this one…

"could you fuck me.."

"look at me when you're talking. ask again."

"could you fuck me." and that was all the two of them needed to hear.

within minutes they had you back in the room, clothes nowhere to be found as you were pressed up between the two of them.

"isn't she so pretty hyung,"

won was behind you holding your legs open and letting jay enjoy the view, jay twisting your nipples and watching how the light touch caused the puddle between your legs to grow even more.

"you weren't kidding when you said she was sensitive."

hearing the brief mention that jungwon had discussed you with jay before sending your mind into a spiral. laying back as won moved from behind you and onto the chair next to the bed.

"why don't you put it in hyung, i wanna watch."

you'd never seen won like this before, he looked almost ravenous, his mouth almost watering as he watched. you couldn't take your eyes off of him, taken aback by his current state.

"you too pretty, watch while he puts it in."

won's hand coming behind your head and forcing you to look down on yourself. jay lining up with your folds and cursing out above you.

"she looks so small, you sure she can take it?"

"even if she can't she will."

and that was enough for jay to push into you, the slight stretch making you bite down on your lip, he wasn't very different from won in size but he was thicker. won's hand holding your own as you both watched jay sink inside you.

"look at that pretty," and god did jay feel good inside you. his hands gripping your hips tightly and pushing them down into the mattress as he took a deep breath.

Won” fuck i'm gonna break her won."

"do it, she likes it"

won gently pushing your hair out of your face, moving around so that he was now above your head.

"don't you pretty?"

you had your eyes pressed together tightly, entirely overwhelmed by everything, and won's dick standing above your head was not helping in any sort of way.

"you think you could multi-task.”

you couldn’t even answer at this point, jay roughly thrusting into you and using you like a toy, rambling on about how good you feel and he could've never imagined being able to be inside you.

won now holding both your wrists and watching as jay pounded into you, your release dripping all around him and your back fighting to arch against jay's push on your hips.

"pretty open for me before i make him stop."

the idea of jay stopping now was enough to make you sob, jaw immediately falling slack for won.

"there we go,"

won immediately filling your throat and admiring the slight bulge he made in your throat.

"look hyung, everything about her is just sooo small" jay reached up to trace the bump in your throat causing you to clench around him.

"fuck don't do that i'll cum" jay moved his hand from your neck to slap down on your clit and making your body jolt. won hadn't done that before but you'd be asking him to do it again.

won wrapping his hands around your throat and fucking into you is all too much, you rapidly clenched around jay cumming for who knows what time and causing jay to fill you up with no warning.

"shit, my bad-"

jay pulled out watching his fluid seep out, using his fingers to scoop some up and bring it to his lips.

"fuck won you've gotta taste this."

won pulled out leaving you to whine, but you quickly shut up after seeing him take jay's two fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of the two of you.

"fuck, it’s missing something.”

won immediately moving to take jay's previous spot between your legs and quickly shoving himself into you, not taking your sensitivity into mind, his only objective being to fill you up even more.

jay moved down to your stomach and worked his way up, finding his nipple in your mouth and sucking around it while his right hand fondled the other.

you could’ve sworn won was using all his strength on you, your body bouncing up and down as you tried to take even just a second to breathe, fighting to not scream. your hand coming up to jay's head and pulling onto his hair causing him to bite down on your tit.

"be nice,” he growled between his teeth.

jay pulls back to admire his work and watches jungwon finish the two of you off, taking himself into his hand in hopes of finishing himself off another time.

"jay you better hurry up because i'm almost done."

won bringing his hand down to play with your clit in hopes of finishing you off alongside him, his thrust getting shallow and sporadic yet doing just enough to have you spilling around him, the noises leaving your throat being enough for jay to finish all over your abdomen and won filling you up nicely.

won pulling out slowly trying not to overstimulate you even more than you already are, lowering his face down to your cunt and licking up as much as he can.

he pulls you into a kiss, swapping the fluid between your mouths as jay watches with his jaw agape.

pulling apart breathless

"mm, tastes much better."

ᯓ★

#rey's messy mind #g0niki #smut #enha x reader #jay smut #jungwon smut #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #sunghoon smut #jake smut #enha smut #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshots

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rainylana · 29 days

Text

“I’m not always bad.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: eddie finds you crying. why does he care?

warnings: bully eddie, bad boy, awkward and meanie eddie, language, crying, upset reader, talk of cancer, readers dad has cancer. a potential series if you want it, let me know!

gif is not mine!

update! part two has been posted and is located on my masterlist!

He supposed maybe over time it wouldn’t be absolutely crazy to have some sort of care for you, after all, he had known you since the both of you were in diapers in preschool together, and ever since, he’d treated you like dirt beneath his leather boots.

He was an absolute prick to you, and you couldn’t remember one memory of him being nice to you. Maybe it was because you came from a ‘white picket fence’ home, had good grades, an honor student, actually. Maybe it was because you were pretty? Maybe he liked you? No. You had long since disregarded that idea many years ago. He wouldn’t be this mean.

You walked as quickly as you could to the gymnasium, pink heels clicking with every step and turn. Your eyes blurred with tears and you hiccuped a breath. You pushed open the door, relieved no one was in there, at least, not to your knowledge, and plopped down on the closet set of bleachers to your right. You put your head in your hands and cried like a baby pathetically.

Eddie was closing up a deal when you’d come busting in dramatically. He quickly hid his stash, thinking it was a teacher as his customer quickly left the scene, muttering a thank you as he did so. When he say it was you, he cursed under his breath and put away his things.

He adjusted his jacket, putting away his weed and wallet as he watched you. He squinted his eyes. Were you crying? He’d seen you cry before, that wasn’t anything new, but you looked upset. He walked across the gym floor, adjusting his junk like a typical male specimen.

“Why the long face, L/n?” His demeaning voice boomed and echoed.

You jumped, revealing your tear stricken face. You groaned. “Fuck! I- I didn’t know anyone was in here. Sorry.” You went up to leave.

“Woah, woah,” He held up his hands. “You’re on my turf, L/n. Crying and trespassing on my property are not to go unpunished.” He tried to ignore the fact you were visibly upset, thinking maybe you got a bad grade or tripped over your own feet and embarrassed yourself. That’s usually what it was, anyways.

Today, however, you couldn’t deal with his dramatics. Your face crumbled into tears and you sobbed, slowly sinking back down to your seat and hunched back over. Eddie, despite his antics, couldn’t help but furrow his brow. He watched you for a moment, looking to see if anyone else was around he could pass you off to. He looked back at you, and when you pushed out a particular harsh sob, he knew that this time was different. Something was wrong.

Unbeknownst to him, he frowned, pursing his lips and climbed up to bleachers to sit beside you. He looked at you like you were from another planet, eyes wide and alert like you were playing a joke on him. He didn’t like this said joke.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, looking for the quickest way out. “Stop crying.” Way to cheer her up, buddy.

“I can’t.” You sobbed into your hands. “My life’s falling apart!”

That broke him out of his shocked state and he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, leaning back into his seat. “What happened now?”

“Just leave me alone, Eddie!” You snapped angrily, jerking your head toward him so hard he thought it was fly clean off and roll onto the floor with the rest of the disregarded basketballs. “Do you have to be such a jerk everyday of my life? Can’t you let me cry in peace just for once?” You stared at Eddie, who was startled and wide eyed, looking at you like you’d gone made.

He sighed heavily, a mask of irritation and annoyance falling over his hooded eyes. “Fine.”

He got up to leave, obeying your wish for once. You watched him get up and leave, and for some odd reason, your heart seemed to sink even further. Once again, you sank back into yourself, listening as his footsteps got further and further away.

He cursed when he got to the gymnasium door, turning back to look at your weeping figure. “Fuck.” He clenched his fist and brought it up to his teeth angrily. Why? Why did he suddenly seem to care about your distress?

He was back beside you, sighing loudly like he didn’t care. “Alright, L/n, what’s going on?”

You gave him a sharp glare, shooting him daggers. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” He fired back. “But I don’t need you busting in during my deals, so you might as well get whatever it is off your chest and wipe your damn tears.” He lifted himself off the seat briefly, reaching back and grabbing his black bandana and handing it to you. You didn’t grab it, so he placed it on your lap with a huff.

It was your turn to look him strangely, like he was from another planet, a strange land you’d yet to be aware of. “You’re being weird.”

“Shut up.” He retorted. “You’ve got snot all over your face.”

You purposely rubbed your nose with his bandana, making sure to clean your face of mucus and tears. He recoiled, grossed out at the action. “Yeah, you can keep that.” He said.

He gave you a minute. Nobody said anything as you calmed down, sniffling to yourself here and there. His concern grew when he noticed the shaking of your hands. “Hey,” He said, voice deep and gruff. “What’s the matter with you?”

You looked at him sadly, shaking your head. “My dad has cancer.”

He couldn’t help it then. His whole face dropped. His jaw fell slack and his eyes widened.

“I just found out yesterday.” Your voice was full and thick with tears. “I was in math class and just had to get out before I had a public fucking breaking down like I’m doing now!” You said, angry with yourself.

“It doesn’t even make sense!” You continued. “My dad is a good man! He’s done nothing to deserve this! I don’t understand!” You cried, rambling to him at this point. He didn’t mind, he didn’t know what to say anyways.

“My whole family is just…numb. Dad’s pretending he’s not bothered by it. He’s doing everything he normally does. Mowing the grass, helping mom with the flower bed.”

You kept talking and Eddie listened, and in that moment, he felt pure sorrow and remorse, compassion and empathy for you. He listened to your words and felt his stomach sink. And you were beautiful, a random thought jostled in the middle somewhere between sorrow and empathy.

You cried to him for almost an hour. You talked about your family falling apart, but continuing on despite the downfall. The number of months the doctors had given your father to live. You talked about not being walked by him down the aisle, him not seeing his grandchildren. It was all here and there, but Eddie listened and said nothing, and after awhile, you forgot he was there and that it was Eddie.

When two o’clock rolled around, you breathed heavily and looked at your watch, then him. “You didn’t need to stay.” You were completely exhausted, mentally and physically.

“It’s alright.” It was the first thing he’d said in an entire hour. “You needed someone to talk to. I’m just being a good samaritan.”

“Still,” Your eyes were red and raw. “Why?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m not always bad.”

You managed to smile. He didn’t.

“Well, thanks.” You said softly. “My friends don’t know yet. Nobody does. Please don’t tell?” You looked at him with round eyes that were always so full of innocence.

“I won’t say anything.” He shook his head.

You sniffled once more and nodding, standing up and fixing your white skirt. “Well, I better get back to class. Thanks for listening.”

He let you walk all the way across the room and to the door before he spoke. “I’m sorry.”

You didn’t look at him and he didn’t look at you, but both of your hearts seemed to lighten. The door clicked open loudly and shut, leaving him to himself.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #bully eddie #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x female character

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reysdriver · 7 months

Text

Breeding | R.B.

Day 4 of Kinktober: Breeding Kink — husband!regulus x wife!reader

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, breeding kink, piv sex, unprotected sex, creampie, some light angst and fluff in certain parts

words: 0.7k

a/n: this is one day late, but i'll post 2 oneshots tomorrow after my last midterm test I promise

Regulus’ face was buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusted into you. His forehead was sweaty, but so were you, and you loved the sight of your husband’s dark curls sticking to his skin so you couldn’t care less about sweat. Honestly, all you could think about was how perfect he felt inside you.

“You feel so good, Reg. So perfect.” You told him honestly.

He let out a low moan before responding. “Not as perfect as you, my love. You make me feel so good. I’m gonna explode soon and fill you up just how you like.”

You did love it when he came inside of you, but there was a sneaking suspicion in your mind that Regulus liked it more than you. Ever since you got married a few weeks ago, he had been obsessed with the idea of finishing inside of you in hopes of getting you pregnant.

“I need it so badly.” You practically whined.

He kept moving, hitting all of the right spots inside of you. He was letting out a series of heavy breaths and soft cusses right next to your ear, and it only increased your pleasure with every sound.

“Are you sure you want it? You like it when I try to give you a baby?”

Regulus got insecure sometimes; he always has. It’s been about a number of things, but no matter what it was, you tried your absolute best to help bring back his confidence and feel better about whatever he was upset about. This instance was no different than any other time, other than the fact that you were naked and in the middle of fucking.

“I love it, honey, I really do. I want your baby so bad, then as many more as you’ll let me have.”

You were totally honest with him, even if you seemed like you were overcompensating for the sake of his comfort. You loved Regulus more than anyone in the world, that’s why you married him; there was no reason you wouldn’t want him to be the father of your kids.

“I love you so much.” He told you as if he was reading your mind.

“I love you too.” You promised. “You’re the best thing in my life, Reg— Oh, fuck!” Your train of thought was interrupted when Regulus sped up the pace and increased the force of his hips, plus adding a hand to your .

“You like that, my love?”

You felt like you could only mumble words as an answer. “Yes, yes, yes. I’m getting close. Keep going.”

“So am I. I’m gonna fill you up and make sure you get pregnant for real this time.”

“Please, Reg. I really do need it.”

Just as you asked, Regulus kept up the rhythm of his thrusts so you could both finish together. He was hitting that perfect spot inside you, the spot that had you leaving scratches on your husband’s back and gripping the sheets with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

With a loud groan, Regulus released inside of you, but kept moving the way he was before as best as he could to help you along. After a few seconds, you reached your climax as well, and let Regulus know by letting out a moan and running your hand along his back far harder than you were before.

You both took a moment to cool down, with Regulus laying on top of you, resting until your vitals went back to normal. Once his heart rate was back down, he pressed a sincere kiss to the part of your neck where his forehead had just been tucked, then he straightened his body and pulled out of you slowly.

When moving out of you, he replaced his cock with his two fingers, eliciting a sharp breath from you as you jerked your head up to look at him between your legs.

“I’m sorry, my love. I just want to make sure nothing spills out this time. We have to let this one be for real.”

You crashed your head back against the pillow. “This is gonna be the one that takes, I have a really good feeling about it.” You told Regulus. “You’ll be such a good dad, Reg.”

He tried to hide his face between your legs, but the grin was unmissable. “And you’re going to be a great mom.”

#xena's kinktober celebration #kinktober #regulus black #regulus x reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black x y/n #regulus black x you #regulus x wife!reader #regulus black imagine #regulus black oneshot #regulus black smut #regulus black fluff #marauders era #marauders fanfiction #marauders smut

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greatstormcat · 4 months

Text

Sweet Like Honey

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, A/B/O dynamics, Alpha!Gaz, Omega!reader, fluff and smut, heat cycle, knotting, p in v, biting

Follows on from this post by popular demand. Thank you all so much for the wonderful comments and the reblogs, please enjoy this delicious man on my behalf!

True to his word, Gaz had arranged for the two of you to go off base for dinner to discuss what had happened in the gym. He had been mortified by the way he reacted, taking hours of convincing and cajoling from you to accept that you weren’t upset or felt violated. The level of integrity he carried on his shoulders was breathtaking, and your feelings for him only became more complicated as a result.

You’d insisted on nothing fancy, and a good local pizza place was agreed on. You’d tried not to think too much about the way Price had smirked as the pair of you left the barracks together, your CO being well aware of your… situation, and having had a front row seat to the two of you dancing around each other since you’d been brought into the team.

You insist on driving you both, and Gaz agrees, and settling his impressive bulk and long legs into the passenger seat of your car.

“I know I’ve said it already but…” Gaz begins to say.

“Stop apologizing,” you interrupt as you drive the two of you out through the security gates of the base and towards the nearby town, and he chuckles warmly.

“I just can’t get my head around it,” he continues, “you’re just so… nothing like an omega. Well, not like any I’ve met before.”

“Yeah, well, variety is the spice of life and all that,” you reply a little nervously, glad you can’t look at him for too long. “So you’re… okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He challenges you bluntly, and you feel his hand snake across to rest on your thigh. You grip the steering wheel until your knuckles ache, trying to focus on not crashing the car as your heart pounds at the contact.

“Dunno,” you mumble in response, hating how dumb it sounds. The two of you sit in a tense silence for a while, the radio providing the only distraction for the journey.

“You getting close to your heat, yeah?” He prompts you unexpectedly, and you seriously consider pulling over right there on the side of the road and running away before you combust with awkwardness.

“Yes… the Doctor says once I’ve gone through my heat and my hormones settle I can start the new suppressants. I’m due in a few weeks…” your unspoken question hangs in the air unasked, along with your uncovered scent, and you hope he takes the initiative to save you having to find the words you don’t have. You want to ask for his help, but you are terrified of him saying no, of him finding you weak or unworthy of his time.

“Do you have anyone in mind to help you through it?” His words are carefully chosen, his tone gentle and not pushy, but the underlying note of possession is so clear it makes your heart hurt and your instincts flare. You have to cough to clear your throat before you can answer.

“I was going to ask you actually,” you reply, thankfully just as you pull into the carpark outside the restaurant. As soon as you switch off the engine his hands have wrapped around your jaw, pulling you close to him, his lips crushing against yours roughly and insistently.

“I’d tear apart anyone else who dared to do it,” he growls against your mouth, before kissing you deeply once more, his tongue slipping between your parted lips. Breathing hard you eventually disentangle yourselves long enough to get out of the car, the air thick between you as he wraps an arm over your shoulders and walks you inside. The pretty little waitress flushes hotly as she takes your order, preening and primping at Gaz, but he has eyes only for you and she scampers away when you glare at her obviousness.

“Let me court you,” he says coolly as you eat, his dark eyes burning into you across the table.

“What?” You blurt out, totally taken by surprise and with a mouth full of cheese and pepperoni. It’s unnerving how off kilter the whole situation is leaving you, a seasoned veteran of countless combat missions. You’ve never felt this much on the back foot with anyone, and you feel like he is enjoying every second of having the upper hand going by the smile playing on his full lips.

“I want to do this right,” he explains. “I’m not agreeing to help with your heat because you’re a friend, or because you’ve saved my skin in the field a thousand times. It’s because… I have feelings for you. I’ve been chasing after you for a year, and I never understood your reaction until now. It all makes total sense now I know what you were afraid of. I’m a little hurt you didn’t trust me,” he says with a playful grin, “but hey, you had your reasons.” His smile fades into a serious expression and he leans forward, elbows on the table and shoulders hunched. “Let me court you, let me make you feel like I deserve this, like I deserve you.”

You take a deep breath, trying to settle the nerves that jangle in your stomach. If you agree to this, you risk exposing your designation to everyone, but you get to finally be with Gaz. Something you’ve wanted for a long, long time. The risk seems completely worth the reward as you sit there studying him.

“I’d like that,” you concede, and the grin that forms on his face dispels any concern you ever had. He’s beautiful as he leans back in his chair, broad shoulders straight and proud once more, looking like the perfect Alpha he is.

“Fucking right,” he laughs with a satisfied nod.

The following morning in the mess hall you find Gaz sitting with Soap and Ghost already as you join them. You tug at the scarf around your neck, making sure you are as covered as possible, aware of Gaz watching you with a faint smile on his lips.

“You look cold,” Gaz observes, and before you can form an answer he has pulled his hoodie off and is thrusting it at you with a shit eating grin. Feeling your face burn as Ghost and Soap watch, you pull it on, bathing yourself entirely in his scent and warmth. It's an excellent cover.

“Thanks,” you smile.

“Keep it,” he grins back at you with a wink. You notice Soap’s brow fold into a frown as he watches the exchange.

“What the… ouch…” Soap grumbles and rubs his ankle under the table after you kick him to stop him drawing any more attention to the situation.

“Shut it, Johnny,” Ghost says quietly, his keen observational skills clearly seeing what is unfolding. “Leave them alone.”

You try to ignore Soap’s smirk as you inhale the scent coming from Gaz’s hoodie, enjoying the calming, grounding effect.

Over the next week he gives you a number of other gifts that prove exactly how much attention he has paid to your likes and preferences while he has known you. Every single one is carefully thought out, not over the top and never misses the mark. He also arranges for supplies for your heat with Price’s help. The small nest you’d allowed yourself to hide in the corner of your room becomes lined with items that Gaz gifts you. His hoodie takes pride of place, along with a couple of blankets he gets and then scents for you.

The constant presence of his scent on you doesn’t escape notice around base, and the way other Alpha's give you room becomes obvious. During drills and PT you feel his eyes on you and his presence near you more often than not, but not in an overbearing or invasive way. The balance he strikes is just perfect, just like him.

It also happens that more than once you find yourself alone with him in a quiet corridor, or empty office, lips crushed together as you kiss and embrace. Hands exploring over and under clothes but there is never enough time to go any further.

Your heat finally hits, and it's like a bloody train runs over you when it does. You wake up just after midnight, shivering and overheated, feeling as though every joint in your body has been filled with sand and then hit with a sledgehammer. A strangled groan gurgles up from your throat as you writhe in the tangled sheets of your bed, then the first spasm of pain runs through your body and settles between your legs as a throbbing, painful need. You grab your phone in trembling hands and pull up Gaz’s number after two failed attempts, calling him. It only rings once before he answers.

“Hey, you okay?” You hear him answer, voice hoarse with sleep. Just hearing him pulls a whimper from your throat, and makes your pussy throb.

“Need you,” you rasp, phone shaking against your ear and you hear the urgent rustling of fabric as he clambers out of bed.

“Just hold on, love,” he tells you firmly. “I’m on my way, I’ll text Price and be there asap. You’re gonna be fine, okay?” His voice trickles into your brain and calms the tremors slightly, and you sigh softly. A growl answers the sound over the phone. “You sound so good already. I gotta hang up, but I will be there soon.”

The call ends and you drop the phone onto the bedside table, body aching and hot, sweat blooming on your skin already in the darkness. You have no idea how long it takes for the door to finally open, but it soon does and the scent that rolls into the room cuts through to the very center of your being.

…Alpha…

You whimper softly, a pillow clenched between your thighs to try and relieve the throbbing ache, already damp as you slick soaks through your underwear. All other items of clothing are long since discarded, pulled off as you had crawled into the corner and your nest seeking the comforting scents there.

There’s a pause as Gaz steadies himself against the intense scent in the room, then he searches the gloom for the source of your cry, before he quickly makes his way to you, flicking the lamp beside the bed on. He looks down at you, slowly crouching down and taking a mental image of you, curled tightly into a nest made from his gifts to you.

“So beautiful,” he muses to himself, reaching out to touch your face. “Let’s get you up on the bed where there’s more room, then I can take care of you.” Carefully he helps you up onto the bed, the touch of his hands on your skin making you hiss and he croons soft words to you to calm you despite the surging, powerful urge he feels to claim you immediately.

With immense self control Gaz arranges you on the bed, making sure you are safe and comfortable, getting you to drink some water as your body temperature soars. Then, and only then, does he undress, his erection already straining at his sweatpants, and he holds you tightly against his broad, strong body. The feel of his skin against yours and his scent covering you eases the worst of the symptoms, the trembling subsiding slightly.

“Gaz… please…” you beg, and feel the rumble in his chest that answers you. He kisses you, tenderly and deeply, his rough palms running over your hypersensitive skin. He buries his face into the side of your neck, the stubble of his chin and hairs of his mustache rubbing against your gland as he inhales deeply, and then allows himself to sweep his tongue over the raised flesh.

“You taste so sweet… like honey on my tongue,” he moans, before running his tongue over your gland again. Your whole body shudders against him and he hums with satisfaction at your response, his palms rubbing up and down your back. Your spine undulates as his hands move, and he curls his fingers making his nails drag over your skin, and you arch into him with a gasp.

Between the hormones flooding your system and the way Gaz is playing your body like a virtuoso musician, your mind drifts and all lucid thoughts evaporate. All you are aware of are the sensations he is giving you, and you greedily devour everything he gives. The only concern you have is the empty ache between your thighs, but you know that he is going to address this, you trust completely that he will make this right, so you quietly wait for your Alpha to provide.

Another spasm surges through your body, your muscles clench and your breath shudders, making Gaz moan as he sees you suffer. Cradling you against his chest carefully, he lays your back against the bed and trails his hand down your stomach and between your tightly pressed legs. Slick coats the insides of your thighs and you force yourself to relax, giving him the space he needs to help you.

“That’s it, pup,” he says encouragingly, pressing his forehead to yours. “Let me take care of you.”

Your clit is already swollen and throbbing with its own heartbeat, screaming for attention, and as his calloused digits touch it you cry out. He teases the sensitive nub, finding the right pressure and movement to get your hips grinding up against his hand, swirling your slick around it and drinking in your strained groans. A litany of praises and honeyed words flow into your ear as he pulls you tightly against him, his erection ignored and leaking against your thigh as you bump it with your movements.

He draws your moans out, swallowing them as he kisses you, tasting your desire on his tongue as his fingers work you up to the pinnacle of ecstasy and your cry out against his soft lips, coming undone in his embrace. Your orgasm subsides, leaving you panting and boneless, curled against his broad chest. All too soon, though, the heat begins to build again from its temporary lull and you claw against his shoulders with your blunt nails.

“Gaz… please, it hurts…” you gasp, sawing your legs together to try to find some reprieve from the burning, aching agony. “Please, Alpha…” you beg, and his brow pinches in a frown at the desperation in your voice. A vulnerability he never thought he’d hear from you and he cannot help but answer. His instincts take over, seeing his Omega in such a state of pain and need, and he smoothly rolls you onto your stomach, placing a firm hand between your shoulder blades to hold you still.

“Hold still, Omega,” he purrs, his deep, velvety voice taking on an edge that cuts directly to your base instincts and stills your muscles for him, ensuring compliance. The blunt, fat head of his cock nudges against your pussy as he kneels behind you, filling the space between your spread thighs. With a firm thrust he spears into you, hissing at the raw heat of your body and the tightness or your cunt. “Fuck!” he grunts before continuing to push forward until he hilts himself in you fully.

Without conscious thought his hips begin to move, sweat beading on his forehead and chest as he holds you down, pistoning his cock into you. Every push and draw inside you fires a thousand nerve endings, sending your eyes rolling back into your skull at the building pleasure he gives you. Wet, desperate noises mix with huffs and euphoric sighs as he fucks you into the mattress.

You want to speak, to tell him how amazing you feel, but your brain can only focus on the sensations coursing through your body. When he leans over you, resting his hands either side of your head, you grasp his wrists tightly and press your lips to one of them. You suck and lick at his skin, earning a deep, possessive rumble and he lowers himself down across your back to kiss at your shoulder blades, your neck, your scent gland. He breathes in your scent, drinking it deeply and filling his mouth and nose with it until his body can take it no longer.

You feel his knot swelling, catching at your entrance, dragging across your walls and making them spasm and clench, sending you careening towards the precipice again. When you fall over the edge and orgasm, your pussy clenches hard and he can no longer withdraw, your muscles squeezing and milking him for what it needs. With a loud groan against your neck Gaz comes, coating your insides with hot ropes of cum, and you feel his teeth clamp down onto your scent gland. You throw an arm around his head, pulling his face in tighter against your neck as the pain shoots down your spine and merges with the pulsing in your core to form a delicious feeling you’ve never experienced. Your mind buzzes, a single thought filling your spaced out, empty skull… my Alpha.

With labored breaths you both come down from your high, finding yourself arranged on your side, securely on his knot and wrapped in his arms. Your scent is entwined with his, the throbbing on your neck a heavenly echo of the orgasm.

“Gaz…?” you mumble softly, a purr growing steadily in your chest

“Shhh,” he answers, whispering against the shell of your ear huskily before placing a small kiss there. “Just rest, my omega.”

——————————————————-

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lustytears · 6 months

Text

Be Quiet

no plot. just fucking tom marvolo riddle like there’s no tomorrow

afab!reader x tom riddle

2.2k words

warnings: SMUT. tongue play, blood kink, biting, spit kink, female receiving, p in v, wrap it b4 u tap it, public sex (in a school), hair pulling, unspecified house reader, shit i can’t think of bc i didn’t rlly proof read it, but it’s for you guys.

haven’t wrote anything in a hot minute so forgive me. first time seriously posting on tumblr. this was actually supposed to be a draco malfoy smut but i just switched it around mid-way when i was thinking of my best friend, who’s completely obsessed with this diary horcrux of voldemort just like me.

i will try and post a master list or something, give me time please.

You sat in your desk, pissed at how you were in this situation in the first place. It all happened because of Tom Riddle, who started arguing with you in the middle of potions—which you inevitably swore at him. Both of you were sent to detention to not only calm the both of yourselves, but for the disrespect and dishonor brought to Hogwarts. You were a good student, if anything a well-respected one at the most. It made you feel embarrassed knowing that you were “disorderly” but you couldn’t help but bite your tongue and put your foot down when it came to Tom Riddle. His smart remarks, his quiet demeanor, his attitude; all of it made me you want to pull at him, perhaps make him realize that he’s nothing to you.

He sat at his desk, both of your desks close between the both of you. “Would you stop?” He bore his eyes into you like daggers. His voice full of personal annoyance.

You placed your pen down, huffing. “How about you shut the fuck up, Riddle? It’s the only damn thing you’re good for anyways,” you crossed your legs, irritation came with your tone. You felt mad—perhaps upset at the fact that you were in this situation with him in the first place. He’s so fucking-

“I promise you,” he said with assurance. “I’m gonna make you regret everything you think. Every nasty glance, every remark.” Tom said, and the feeling of anger filled your head.

“Like I give a shit?” You held yourself back from laughing. “You’re actually so intolerable to be around that it makes me mad,” you hissed. “Fucking dog.” You fixed your black stalkings, the feeling of them rolling up at your thighs bothered you.

Who the fuck was she? With THAT tone? I don’t think so.

“You’re nothing to anyone, Y/N. You’re annoying, deranged, pissy, and disrespectful,” he leaned closer into your side, rubbing it into your face.

“And you’re obsessed,” you shot back at him. Your chest was stiff, but you inhaled. Your fists balled up, your face red.

“Half-bloods like you make me sick. You can’t ever give up, can you?” He smirked. “You love the attention. Fuck, it wouldn’t surprise me if you loved this. It’s your only way to get off, frantically throwing pointless insults at me?” He got up, walked to your desk. “I know you’re aroused. Aroused by the attention of a man noticing you for merely one second.”

“Oh, you fucking stupid b-“ He noticed you playing with your skirt. He pointed to it.

“That’s what I’m talking about,” his eyebrows raised with confidence. “You adore this moment.”

You launched forward, getting up from your seat where you previously sat. The desk was discarded and moved as you pushed it away when you got up. You backed him up into the nearest wall, your hands gripped his throat. Chokes and whines of disbelief came out of his mouth as you strained your hands on him. His eyes were half-closed, expecting some sort of offensive reaction to come from you.

“I fucking hate you. I hate your stupid, little arrogant, no good influence— I want to kill you, Riddle-“

He gasped, not expecting this sort of reaction to come from you. The last thing he’d expect is for you to actually come after him. “Y/N…”

Your hands were still, but the grasp was firm. His warm neck and erratically beating pulse made your hands shiver. You longed for this moment for years, but you let go. Apologies followed after your hands dropped to your sides. His brown eyes dropped to the floor, his mouth silent as the glooming atmosphere filled the both of you up.

“I-I’m sorry, Tom… I didn’t mean that,” your hands came to both sides of his cheeks. One hand drooped to his neck, caressing the spot where you held onto him for too long. His hand came up to his cheek, holding onto your wrist for a moment.

“What for?” The words shocked you. You didn’t expect Tom Riddle to be so… forgiving? He pulled you closer to him, lingering into your eyes for one moment too long. He dangerously held your hips, and by dangerously, his grasp was way too tight for you. As a result, the muscles in his hands flexed. You took notice of this, tilting your head back up to him, but this time, his lips were what you were looking at.

“You know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you paused for a moment. “I’m sorry I took it too far. I-I should’ve realized you were uncomfortable.” His eyes stuck to you, watching your every slight breath as you hyperventilated, your chest quickly raising up and down. “I’m realizing how terribly I’ve treated y-“

His lips met yours. Starved. He switched spots with you, quickly turning you around too fast for you to notice. He backed you up into the wall, pushing you up against him and you only. Your eyes shot open for a second, bewildered and feeling like you were on a high you’ve never expected. His delicate touch made your eyes close with satisfaction. You knew this is what you wanted. After all, he could’ve chosen anyone—you were special.

Every movement, you felt your tongue desperately fighting with his. He picked you up, instinctively wrapping your legs around his waist. He sat you down on the desk, his lips moving down to your neck. Your shaky breaths made him chuckle. “How needy?” He asked, rhetorically.

He leaned to your stomach, this time, moving closer down to your pelvic area. You pulled at him., tugging his hair. “What if somebody comes in?” “Nobody’s coming in,” he whispered a quick locking spell, and you heard the doorknob jiggle and lock.

“Be quiet for me, and maybe, just maybe, I won’t despise you so much.” You nodded, allowing him to move closer and closer to your skirt. He pulled up your skirt, noting the dark-colored underwear that was now prized in front of him. He ripped your stalkings with his hands, tearing the nylon off as it hung around your thighs. He pulled your underwear aside, his index finger moving it to the opposite side of your leg. You breathed heavily, waiting for him to touch you. He stared at you, like you were a possession he gladly owned. His calloused fingers took a swipe of your pussy, carefully analyzing how your arousal felt on his fingers and stuck to them when he parted his index and middle finger.

“I’d bet galleons this is how you constantly felt around me, isn’t it?” You stared blankly, feeling like you were lost in your own thoughts. He touched your clit, quickly making your thighs shiver and jerk. You looked down at him, where his eyes met yours. You felt special. He made quick moves with your clit, rubbing it with his thumb as he saw how your eyes squeezed shut. He played with you, teasing as his other fingers played with your entrance, dipping in and out. He plunged both fingers in, desperately finding your g-spot as he pulled them back and forth between your entrance.

“Y-yeah, this—this is how I’ve thought of you. Fuck!” You exclaimed. He smirked, going at you with a much faster pace. His fingers made quick work of you, showing how talented he was considering he was making you feel this good only with his fingers.

“I.. I think-“ You moaned, loudly. He stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and his thumb stopped rubbing your clit. You pouted, begging for attention.

“If you’re not going be quiet, I’d advise you to pull your panties right back and your skirt down, and to shut the fuck up,” he said, emotionless. You were confused.

“Okay, I’m sorry, Tom… Please, fuck me. Okay? I promise- I promise I’ll be very good for you. Only you,” you pleaded, begging for him to continue.

He entered his fingers right back in. He fucked you at a much faster pace, squelchy noises emitted from the friction he was making as he continued fucking you at a speed that wasn’t known well to you. It was like he knew your body. You covered your mouth, holding it tightly as your legs wrapped against him. He pulled his fingers out, leaning in as his tongue substituted his fingers. He rubbed your clit in circles with his tongue, lapping up all of your juices. His hands grasped your thighs tightly as your legs wrapped around his head. Your back arched, rubbing against him for release.

Without a warning, he asked, “Cum for me, darling.” His tongue moved at a faster pace, licking your entrance as it quickly entered in you, eating your pussy out.

“Oh my God…” You exhaled, releasing all over his face. It didn’t take him long to use his tongue to lick all of your pleasure up. You moaned as he overstimulated you, licking you clean. “So fucking perfect,” he praised you. His jaw flexed, his eyes filled with pleasure.

He got up, off of his knees. “What are you doing?” You asked him, watching him unbuckle his pants uniform, unzipping his pants. He took his boxer waistline, taking both of his pants and his boxers right off. His cock sprung to his chest. His tip leaked with pre-cum. You eyed his cock, imagining how his girth would feel violating your walls.

“What’s that? You want me to violate your walls with my cock?” He exclaimed, chucking as your eyes widened with both fear and euphoria.

“Spit in my hand. Now.” You obeyed, a wad of spit pooled the middle of his palm. He moved his hand to his cock, lubing his cock with your saliva. He smirked, watching your legs widen and your pussy glisten with the mix of his tongue residue and your arousal. He continued jerking his cock, placing a hand on your thigh, the other hand guiding his cock to your entrance. He rubbed the tip of his cock up and down, noting how your legs tensed.

“Don’t be tense.… Let me pleasure you.”His hand touched your face carefully, moving down to your shirt. He fidgeted your buttons, unbuttoning your blouse and throwing it aside as he exposed your bra. Visioning how your tits would look, he quickly unbuttoned your bra, then moving your skirt and pulling it off. You helped him out, hopping off the table and doing the same by taking off his shirt, unbuttoning his uniform. You touched his tone body, admiring his chest.

Quickly, he turned you around, bending you over the desk. He leaned against you, lining his cock up to your entrance. He stuck his cock into you, causing your mouth to part an ‘o’. His movements became quick and aggressive, moving into you at a fast pace. You tried suppressing your moans, but he pulled your hair, yanking it back. It allowed him to continuously fuck your g-spot perfectly, making your grip on the desk turn your knuckles white. He pounded into you at an unforgivable pace, the sounds of skin contact made it unbearable—impossible, you noted. There was no way anybody couldn’t hear this.

“Fuck, you’re so.. so good,” you moaned, his hand tight, yanking your hair. Tears stained your cheeks from the combination pleasure of his cock ruining your walls and his hand pulling your hair towards him.

He violently snapped his hips into you. He took the opportunity to kiss your bare and exposed neck, biting down on your shoulder as he claimed you.

“Nobody’s going to fuck you the same. Nobody’s gonna love you the same. I’m going to be the one you think of when you dare touch yourself on those dark, dim nights alone. You’ll remember this moment like it’s the last thing you’ll ever think of. I am your permanent memoria.” He saw the dark mark on your neck, and he bit it again, piercing his teeth through your skin. You cried out, tears streaming down your face. Blood pooled, causing him to smile. He licked your shoulder like your blood was candy to him.

His hip movements became more unfocused, coming close to a sign that he was near to cumming right inside of you. He gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into you.

“I’m going to fucking- Cum-“ And like that, he released right inside of you. The hot liquid filled your inside as he pushed his cock to your cervix, painting your deepest points white with his cum.

You fell limp. He took notice of it, and took his now once erect cock out of you. He helped you get dressed, before noticing your stalkings were completely torn. He grabbed his wand, casting a spell that would fix your broken nylon stalkings. You thanked him with tired eyes, completely exhausted from pain and pleasure. He got dressed, fixing his belt as he kept an eye on you. He carefully unlocked the door, speeding over towards you to grab you, carrying your frail body into his arms. He kissed your forehead, walking through the empty halls to his Slytherin house, coldly staring at any suspecting and confused individuals who stared at the both of you with daggers, then to his room. He opened the door, placing you on the bed. He unraveled the cover, pulling it over you completely to keep you warm. Your eyes shut, head turned to the opposite side of him.

“Sleep well, beauty.”

#tom riddle #smut #tom riddle smut #voldemort #harry potter #harry potter smut #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle fluff #fluff #aftercare #Spotify

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fried-peaches00 · 1 year

Text

“Neteyam Standards”

Neteyam Sully x Human!reader

Ratings: SFW, Fluff

Word Count: 800

Notes: Man wtf why do I gotta indulge like this. This is me dipping my toes into the world of posting fan fiction, let me know what you think. Also I can’t figure out how to add a read more option help.

“You must’ve been the most beautiful creature on earth.” Neteyam murmurs into the crown of your head, his hand slipping into your considerably smaller one playing in the grass. You always admired the contrast of your skin tones next to each other. You scoff, “Hardly, but I appreciate the sentiment Teyam.” You left your voice drift off into the forest sounds, you prefer to let them speak for themselves but Neteyam has a different idea,

“I don’t think I could imagine anything more beautiful than you, Navi or human,” He ponders for a moment, “I wouldn't be surprised if you would rival the personified beauty of Eywa herself.” You laugh at this, sitting up to face him behind you only to be met with a drowsy, lovesick smile painted on Neteyam’s face as he listens to you with undivided attention, ”Do not say these things!” He catches your hand as you lightly shove him in the chest,

“ I can’t have Eywa upset at me, can I now? It’s hard enough just surviving on this planet without an ethereal deity out for me.” He laughs heartily, pulling you down to rest against his chest looking up into the canopy and at the sun shining through. It’s nearing eclipse, just close enough to see the first sliver of Polyphemus through the trees but not enough to worry about your return yet. Either way, you know that Neteyam could protect you against anything you may find in the dark. Out of the corner of your eye you see Neteyam’s ears twitch. Picking up all the chirps, hoots and howls of the forest. Two Atokirina dance between each other, floating down just far enough to tickle the finger tips of your outstretched hand.

“And besides, Eywa is much too beautiful. I don’t think I’d want to rival her. Nothing would seem beautiful to me if I was the most beautiful.” You add, only for your lover to squeeze your shoulder, his hand reaching out to join yours against the backdrop of the sky,

“I would like to believe Eywa thinks we are beautiful…” He murmurs before rolling on top of you, deciding he would much rather look at you than the leaves of the trees,

“Either way, you must be the most stunning creature on earth at least.” His bright eyes gaze up into yours. You can’t seem to find any hint of playfulness or doubt, he's fully sincere. So sincere it almost makes you tear up,

“Not particularly, I’m not exactly conventionally Earth beautiful either.” You give him a shaky smile, But he perseveres, cupping your face in his large hand, pressing his forehead to yours,

“I don’t buy it, my love. The way you speak of earth, burnt and devoid of life. I can’t imagine the people must be any better. All of the Humans I see here on Pandora are destructive and violent.” You hum, feeling the light rumbling of a purr in his chest against yours. You think for a moment, it might be nice for Neteyam to keep thinking that you are so beautiful that the Earth should weep for forgiveness for ever letting you leave, but you feel like you should tell the truth. That for earth standards, you were really, quite below average. Even though you don’t have to feel the pressure to look the way everyone wants you to look anymore, you would like to be able to be vulnerable with Neteyam, your mate,

“Earth… Has a very steadfast expectation on how you should look. So many humans would do anything to look that way,” You smile for a moment but it fades fast. “We would kill our planet for it. The plants and animals,” Neteyams huffs, pulling back for a moment,

“They did. Not you. This is not a matter of we.” He pouts. You will not bear this guilt alone, not on his watch. This makes you smile again,

“Whatever,” You roll your eyes. Never have you met anyone so stubborn to let you know how cared for you were, “I don’t meet that standard, Teyam, I think you would be stunned by those who do.”

Neteyam’s face softens. He can’t even fathom how you perceive yourself. To him you were the most empathetic, intelligent, caring person he’s ever met, not to mention the very love of his life. He moves to sit on your outstretched thighs,

“I don’t care about ‘Earth standards’.” He creates bunny ears with his fingers,

“In Nettayam standards, You are the most stunning being in the whole galaxy.”

#neteyam x reader #neteyam x human reader #neteyam sully x reader

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angelkhi · 1 year

Text

santa's little helper - j.m

pairing: joel miller x reader

summary: you get more than you bargained for being santa’s little helper.

warnings: SMUT 18+ (minors DNI), thigh riding, fingering, dirty talk, some cursing, unprotected sex in an apocalypse (big dumb bitches), creampie (even bigger dumber bitches), pet names, age gap, low-key feral joel, a little bit of pining if you take off your glasses and squint. idk i’m writing this post crimbo dinner prep i’m tired.

word count: 2k

a little note: the logistics of when the breakout started and when the reader was born do not make sense but that is not my fault i'm not a scientist and i'm bad at math. anyways here's my singular christmas fic. to anyone that celebrates merry christmas, and to those who don't, have a lovely december 🫶🏾 (also not proofread i’m tired and it’s christmas)

Christmas is one of the few traditions kept alive in Jackson, with handmade paper decorations about the houses, small Christmas trees nursed to health with the help of Joel, children running around singing festive songs you'd missed for so many years. You felt truly alive for the first time in a long time.

Joel's smile is light, barely visible behind the beard curated from yarn, but you’re close enough to see his upturned lips. His eyes flick over your outfit, a green t-shirt turned dress, some striped tights and a stroke of damn near magic with long expired makeup transforming you into Santa’s little helper.

"Cute as a button." He mumbles. A steady stream of children enter the makeshift grotto and you don't get to enquire. Not that you would. Your whole body is ablaze with nervousness, Joel's comment striking deep, so deep in fact you probably could've foreign caking deep pink out of date blush to your cheeks. He’s one of the few good men left in this world, and his rugged looks are an added bonus, so it’s no wonder you keen for his approval.

The day goes off without a hitch, the smiles on the children's faces when they got to meet the Father Christmas, the endless amounts of crayon covered decorations each kid got to design, the supply of sugar cookies that dwindled far too quickly. You almost felt bad for the sugar rush their parents would have to deal with later on in the evening. But they wouldn’t care. It’s Christmas.

By the end of the night you’re beyond tired. A few stranglers help with some off he menial tidying, but you send them on their way, your morning plans of self indulgent cleaning spree at risk of being disrupted.

The town is quiet, but brightly lit when you lock the double doors, and you use the rare moment of peace and quiet to appreciate all that you’ve endured.

"Let me walk you home." You yelp quietly, the voice from the darkness unexpected. Though not unwelcome when you spy Joel's broad shoulder leaning against the old barn.

"You scared the shot out of me" You pause to catch your beating. He looks apologetic and for a moment you're worried you upset him "You don't have to do that."

"Walk you home or scare the shit out of you?" You chuckle.

"Not scaring the shit out of me would be nice, but you don’t have to walk me home Joel." In fact you can see your home from where you’re standing it’s so close.

"I know. I want to."

Joel fears that's about as close as hell get to a confession. He admired your normalcy in a world far beyond it. He admired you, albeit secretly.

The two of you walk in silence, until he’s walking up your porch stairs and you’re panicking about the once welcomed silence, filling it with an invitation into your home. He accepts with a quiet smile, taking in the festive lights and handcrafted decor.

You guide him through the small hallway into a tiny living room, filled with random trinkets and furniture that’s worse for wear. Its more homely than his humble abode, and it screams you, warm and inviting.

He leans back into the worn sofa, his legs spread. Even in the Santa Clause get up you're not sure how to place yourself. It's Joel Miller for heavens sakes. A part of him secretly enjoys your nervous energy as you hover in front of him, not sure what exactly to do with yourself.

"Here come sit." Joel pats the faded velour, "tell me what you want."

He suggested it without thinking, and of course you comply. You’d walk into a building full of infected if he asked. Something shifts when you find yourself in his lap, you wonder if he notices it too, the way the air in the room suddenly grew thicker filled with something you’re not sure you’d ever be brave enough to act on. Your palms grow clammy. Breathe.

Joel is dumbfounded at just how perfect you look in his lap. He’d keep you there forever if he could. His hands rest on your thighs, thumbs guiding a small driving small patterns into the striped tights. He dips his head low, trying to meet your downcast eyes.

“I want you Joel.” The admission has your cheeks tingling in slight embarrassment and an underlying fear of rejection.

"That's it sweet girl. Use your words and i'll give you anything you want."

Those hands slip beneath your dress, a wide palm cupping your warm cunt. He holds your gaze, watching and waiting.

“I want you to fuck me.”

“That so?” He hums, eyes raking over your almost innocent face, then down to where your hips meet his. Two fingers tap your thigh and a commanding ‘up’ is spoken. You raise your hips as he asks, you’d do anything he asked in that moment. Joel’s hands snake around the back of your thighs, pausing for a brief moment before gripping the scratchy tights and pulling with vigor. They split easily under the force, exposing you to him. He thumbs the edge of your panties for a moment, the small creases in his forehead deepening when he takes you in.

"Red lace? Where on earth did you get these?" His tone is light, punching through the heavy thickness in his throat and he tries to collect himself, just for a moment.

"I don't scavenge and tell Mr Miller." You chide playfully.

“Don't care where you got em from as long as I get to keep em."

"Then earn them." Joel smiles, not one to back down from a challenge, giving you a small and simple nod.

He’s so gentle when he places you on the sofa you’re lost for a moment, then he’s on his knees in front of you, hands on your thighs spreading you open. His thumb traces over the wet gusset of the almost transparent lace, a perfectly harsh pressure building when he rests on your clit. He doesn’t bother wasting time taking off the pretty underwear opting to pull them aside instead.

All of that sweetness, all of the hesitation flies out of the window when he finally catches a glimpse of you, so ready for him. Joel’s sharp tongue is sweeping against you in a bruising rhythm, nipping and sucking on your exposed clit. He’s impatient and determined, losing himself in how good you taste, showing no mercy when you grind yourself against him, gasping when your clit swipes against the soft bump of his nose. Your hands swipe through his salt and pepper waves, pulling him closer and he decides then that he’d happily die between your thighs. Your soft whimpers grow louder until they’re high pitched whines whilst you chase the orgasm he’s so desperate to give you.

“Fuck Joel.” Your fingers tighten around his soft hair, his rough fingers curling your weeping hole. All it takes is on hooked finger pressing up against that spot, one more soft drag of his tongue and you’re finished. Joel’s hips buck up at nothing when you cum on his face, making those pretty noises, hips clean off the couch cushions as you ride out your orgasm. But he doesn’t let up, fingers moving at a languid pace.

"Gimme one more. One more and i'll fuck your pretty cunt so good you'll feel me for days." Cocky bastard.

You’ve clearly lost all sense, because you nod like you have anything left to give.

He doesn’t stop, not until you’re thighs are practically shaking around his head, and you can barely keep your head on your shoulders. He looks so proud of himself when you find the energy to open your eyes. Like he could walk away untouched, your release giving him all the pleasure he needs.

He manoeuvres your pliant body back into his lap, hands cupping your jaw, thumb stroking your cheek.

"I ain't gonna be sweet on ya." Lies. He's already more than sweet on you, half way to smitten and too much of a coward to confess. If he were one for making rash decisions he'd be on one knee begging you to marry him and making you cum on his face. Though he wouldn't need a rash decision for the latter.

"Don't want you to be soft on me Joel. Please." You grind your hips into his growing bulge, shuddering breaths drowning out your weak plea. You make quick work of pulling down the handmade red trousers, hesitating only for a moment when your fingers rest on the waistband of his boxer shorts.

Joel’s chest heaves a little when your soft hands grip him, dragging the shiny pink head of his cock against your wet cunt, slipping him into your sopping hole with ease.

“That’s it. Take what you need.” He rests a guiding hand on your hip, until your flush against him, taking him to the hilt.

“So good for me.” This man and his fucking mouth.

He presses his mouth against yours, kissing you and claiming you all at once. His lips are surprisingly soft, a heavy contrast to the way he’s gripping your hips, pulling you flush against him. It’s not lost on you that he’s doing all the work but there’s not a single thought left in your head, just Joel and how he feels and sounds.

"Got you nice and full don't I?" You try to speak, honestly you do, but all that comes out is a pathetic whine. "Too fucked out to speak. Look at ya', so perfect all for me."

There is nothing that could pry you away from each other in that moment, your panting breaths, the slight tinge of sweat, burnt sugar and pine in the air. Joel's illicit grunts and your soft screams.

He finds some restraint and pauses, somehow placing you flat on your back, the soft couch cushions moulding around your body, worn out springs creaking beneath the weight of you both.

He cages you in, relishing as you practically melt into the worn leather sofa. His fingers hook under your knee, lifting your thigh higher, the small amount of strain forgotten when he sinks back into you hard and deep.

He takes almost as much as he gives, driving his hips in a harsh rhythm chasing his release, watching the way your body responds to him. Pretty lips parted, eyes closed so tight, pussy clenching around him. Nothing will ever feel this good. Joel thumbs at your clit once again, and he completely surrounds you. He’s so deep you can just about breathe, his deep grunts and guttural moans floating about your once boring living room.

He gives you your third orgasm of the evening, and you feel everything but nothing all at once. There’s nothing but him and you and the knowing that you’d never felt this good before and nothing would ever come close again. His thrusts are relentless, your wet cunt clenching around him sending him over that perfect ledge. Your name is the only thing on his lips when he cums so deep, you’re not sure where he ends and you begin. He’s completely still, muscles taught goading himself through his orgasm, the feeling nothing short of euphoric.

Joel’s hands find your face again, that softness ever present and he melts into your body, your lips.

“Honey you with me?" He asks after a short moment, his voice hoarse. You nod at first, but he’s looking for words, words you’re struggling to find with what little bit of energy you have left.

"I'm with you. Seeing fucking stars but i'm with you." Joel's shoulders grow less tense at your reassurance. He nods, calloused fingers exploring your cool skin all over again. You gasp in unison when he slips out of you, tucking himself into his boxers and pulling your panties back into place.

"So. Did I earn my keep?" The elastic twangs against your skin and the pair of you share a breathy laugh.

"Sure did. I'm all about giving, in the spirit of christmas of course." He smiles, more triumphant than cocky, though it morphs into a look of pure determination when you speak again.

"Did I mention I have them in black too?"

#smut #tlou smut #tlou #tlou hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal joel miller #pedro pascal smut #the last of us smut #the last of us hbo #joel miller x reader smut #christmas fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 months

Note

AITA for saying someone could see other people and then getting upset when they did?

🥸 to find the post!

I (16f) started dating a guy (15m) a few months ago. I say dating but I’m basically a secret gf because everyone we know doesn’t know because he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s dating me. We don’t hold hands or get close when we’re hanging out in public nvm kissing or actual dates or anythinf like that. He never said why he doesn’t want people to know but I’m pretty sure it’s bc I’m fat and not traditionally pretty. Most of my friends agree that I’m ugly and remind me about it a lot. I know it’s mostly in a joking way but they’re not lying. I know I’m fat and not pretty.

Anyway I try to be chill about everything and to show him that I’m cool about being a secret gf and not to nag him i might have said a month ago that he could see other girls if he wanted to and I would be cool with that. I think I just wanted him to think that I was fine with everything and wouldn’t be a problem but obviously that didn’t work because he immediately started having sex with another friend and didn’t tell me until I found out from her because SURPRISE no one knows we were seeing each other so she confided in me thinking I was just a friend! I thought I was chill about all this but the way it played out feels really shitty. Like I don’t know if he even wears protection with her or what. I don’t know if he told her he was seeing me and she told me intentionally to hurt me. But now they’re holding hands when we all hang out and she’s leaning on his shoulder and very close so I guess I backed myself into a corner. Anyway. I said I would be chill but I’m pretty pissed off and told him that. He didn’t even seem to care. I guess I got dumped in the shittiest way possible and I’ve been removing myself from the friend group more and more kinda hoping someone would pull me back in but they aren’t. I know I shouldn’t be mad bc I said he could do that but I didn’t think it would end with me being dropped by everyone for doing nothing at all. I didn’t even tell anyone I was pissed or tell the secret that we were dating. I didn’t do anything and none of them seem to want me around at all anymore.

Anyway. AITA for saying I would be fine with him cheating and then getting mad when he did?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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i-am-so-riddikulus · 2 years

Text

His Lady Wife

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader

Summary: part two to A Nightly Stroll, readers wedding night with daemon, and the reaction of all who find out

A/N: Wow! I was not expecting so much love on my last post! Thank you all so much! I wrote this as fast as I could for you all, so I apologize if it’s not as good. Please enjoy!

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: angst, smut, vaginal, unprotected sex, fingering, breeding kink, sorry if i missed anything

There became a moment when Rhaenyra started to notice something. She had always been close with her uncle, and when he was around less and less, she knew something was amidst. At first she thought he might be focusing on himself. After all, he was just back from the war at the Stepstones which took a little over three years to end. But with each conversation, each glance, each touch, she had figured out her mystery. All she needed now was to talk to you alone.

She chose to do so when you were in your chambers for the night, cuddled up with a book that Daemon had gifted you. A knock rapped against your door, “Come in,” you said, fixing your nightgown.

Rhaenyra walked in, still in her dress from earlier in the day. You quickly walked over to her, “Good evening, my Princess, what may you need at this hour?”

She smiled, pulling you into a quick hug, “Oh Y/N, you know you do not need to be so formal around me, it’s just the two of us, and you are my best friend.”

“Forgive me, it’s a habit Rhaenyra,” you apologized.

“No need to apologize either,” she laughed.

She walked around your room, looking at all the books that you had laid about. She picked up one, examining the cover, “I believe that I can trust you with anything, Y/N,” flipping through the pages, “and tonight I want us to be totally honest with each other,” she finally stopped at the last page, where Daemon had left a note for you. She looked at you with knowing eyes.

She started to walk towards you, “I myself have done something that I wish to tell you,” she paused, smiling sweetly, “I have taken Ser Criston Cole to bed.”

You couldn’t contain your giggling, knowing that Rhaenyra had found the knight most attractive for sometime now. You grabbed her hands, dying to know more, “Gods, how did it happen!”

She laughed, pulling your hands, “First I need you to tell me something that you did.”

Your heart started pounding, feeling your hands start to grow sweaty. You thought no one knew, not a single word about the night had been spoken by anyone. How did Rhaenyra know?

Did Daemon tell her? You knew they were close. “I,” you cleared your throat, “Well, recently I have had relations with the Prince,” you closed your eyes, expecting anger from Rhaenyra, but instead she was smiling.

“I knew it! First I noticed Daemon partaking in much more conversation with you, and then I saw all of the signs,” she seemed very proud of herself.

You were very confused, “What signs are you talking about?”

She rolled her eyes, “Oh you know, the glances, the touches. I’m surprised your own father had not noticed,” She picked up the book once again, “Not to mention this book from his own collection with a note to you.” she smirked, “So tell me dear friend, how did you woo my uncle?”

You laughed softly, “I wouldn’t say that I wooed him, it was definitely him doing the wooing.” It comforted you knowing that Rhaenyra wasn’t upset, she even seemed excited.

—

While you were having your talk with Rhaenyra, your father had finally noticed you. Unknown to you or Daemon, he had spies in the pleasure house. Otto had wanted to be rid of Daemon for years, dispersing spies all over King’s Landing to catch him in whatever chaos he chose to start. Otto Hightower prided himself in knowing just about everything that went on with his daughters. Alicent, she was married to the King and she bore him an heir. Y/N, she was his second born and all she did was read around the keep. He knew she didn’t do anything else, she had no suitors, and her only friend was Rhaenyra, or so he thought.

The night his informant came back with the news that Daemon Targaryen had taken his daughter, his youngest child, in a pleasure house, Otto was enraged. His room was a mess, books scattered across the area, table turned over, the food spilled on the floor. Immediately, he had gone to the King, only to find Daemon already there. “Ah, Otto,” the King spoke, “I was just about to summon you.”

Viserys walked over to the Hand, giving him a goblet, “Daemon has just presented me with a fine idea,” he smiled at his brother, “Daemon should marry your daughter, Y/N. I think they would make a fine couple, and I’m sure Daemon would treat her very well.”

Otto was quick to respond, “Yes my King, but Daemon already has a lady wife.”

Viserys’ smile faded, “Did you not hear, the late Lady Rhea Royce has passed.”

Otto looked back and forth between Viserys and Daemon, now realizing there was not a single way that he could say no, it was a fine choice for his daughter, a prince.

—

After your night, Daemon had become quite more open with his flirting with you. With no one knowing about what happened, it felt like your own little secret. His glances were longer and more open than before, as if he wanted everyone who’s you were. Each touch was longer, each movement of your hair seemed to linger around your face, making you lost in his touch. No one could question why he was doing it, now that you were openly engaged.

You wish that you could have told Alicent before the King did, before Daemon had proposed, but you did have enough time. Your relationship was falling apart with Alicent, and this had been the final straw. After a dinner with your father, Alicent had finally approached you since your engagement with Daemon. “I would think that you being wed to someone would include me,” she said immediately.

Surprised from the sudden intrusion you jumped, “Well, Alicent, I would think plotting to marry the King would have included me as well, but here we are.”

She let out a scoff, “You’re really still upset about that? I did the duty I had to, the duty of our house! At least father cares about what’s going on with me, because if he’s letting you marry Daemon he really has no care for you.”

You could feel the burn of your tears forming, begging them not to spill, “Good thing I’m not important enough to do my duty so I can marry the man I love!”

“You know nothing about love,” she said bitterly, “you barely know Daemon, you’ve done nothing with him, and if you did I would know.”

You walked right up to her, in her space, lowering your voice, “Oh yeah? Then explain to me how the Prince Daemon Targaryen fucked me raw in a pleasure house, and you had no idea.”

The look on her face made your pride swell. Your relationship with Alicent had finally broken, and you were no longer upset by it. She had been the block all along. Your entire life you felt you needed to to be just like her, you lived in her shadow. But now you truly realize your life is better, you can do what you want, you can marry who you want.

—

The preparations for your wedding started almost immediately after your argument with Alicent. Not much of the planning was on yours or Daemon’s part, as the King was extremely excited for his brother to finally be subdued. A royal feast was to be held after your ceremony, and then you would finally be alone with Daemon, for the first time since that night. You couldn’t help but shudder at the thought of finally being with Daemon again, feeling him again.

The day had gone by wonderfully, you and Daemon were now man and wife. Your sister Alicent was nowhere to be seen during the event, something to which had not gone unnoticed by the King. Before the end of the celebration, Viserys himself had apologized to you on behalf of Alicent’s behavior, assuring you that it will not happen at any other event of celebration for your matrimony. Daemon assured his brother it was okay, taking your hand to kiss it.

Daemon’s hand led you to your now shared chambers, his fingers woven in with yours. Once the door was open, you saw that there was fruit and wine on the table, and many more gifts around the room.

Once the door had closed, he wasted no time in bringing his lips to yours, already grabbing at your hips. “You looked ravishing all night, darling,” you felt his hot breath as he whispered against your ear, “and it was so hard to not just take you then and there in front of everyone.”

Moaning at his words, you put your mouth against his again, moving your hands into his hair. His hands ran along your waist, stopping to grab your ass, “All mine now,”

Daemon slowly untied the back of your dress, helping you climb out of it, you help him out of his as well. He walked you to the bed, laying you down, spreading your legs apart. His hand started massaging your thigh as he ran his fingers up your slit, “all this for me? I haven’t done anything yet,”

Your cheeks flush at his words, rutting against his hand, “Please, Daemon,”

He plunged two fingers into you, curling them into a spot that you didn’t know was in you. His hand laid across your navel, his thumb rubbing swift circles across your clit. Each kiss along your thigh surging with pleasure. You could feel the pleasure building, closer, closer, your eyes shutting, hips meeting his fingers. His movements stopped, “you’re cumming on my cock tonight.”

Daemon crawled up your body, fixing himself between your legs as he nipped along your neck. His hand cupped your breast, pinching your nipple. “I’m going to fill you up,” he said as he rubbed his tip along your clit, reveling in the way your body shuddered for him. He sunk inside you, giving you no time to adjust, his hand finding its way to your neck, squeezing slightly.

Each thrust hit that spot inside you in such a delectable way, making your mouth open in a silent cry. “Look at you, all cockdrunk on my cock,” his thrusts increased in pace, moving your knees to your shoulders. You couldn’t control the cry you let out as he hit so deep inside of you, stretching you so good, immediately making you cum on him.

His face scrunched in pleasure, his hair fanning around his face “mm Gods, you feel so good wrapped around me, your cunt taking me so well” his words already building another orgasm.

Each touch felt like fire, igniting pleasure along your skin, you moaned deeply, nails clawing against his back, head flying back as you came together, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he fucked you through both of your highs, bottoming out. You could feel him twitch with each spurt.

Daemon stayed inside you for a moment, catching his breath, before laying his head against yours. For one moment the chaotic Prince softened, his hand caressing your cheek as he kissed you softly. You smiled softly as he pulled away rubbing your hand along his chest. He looked over at you with a smirk, “Are you trying to go again?”

You laughed lightly, “I don’t know how you could possibly come to that conclusion, my Prince.”

He moved himself over you, hands on either side of your head, “Oh I think you do, my Princess, shall we go again?”

---

@imnotyourbcbe

#daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen #daemon x reader smut #daemon x reader #daemon targaryen x reader smut #hotd #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #matt smith

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rewrittenreality · 1 year

Text

Protective Cowboy

Pairing: Rip Wheeler x Reader

Word Count: 920

Warnings: Cursing, Walker getting his ass beat

Summary: Nobody disrespects Rip Wheeler's woman, Walker obviously doesn't get that and runs his mouth.

A/n: Hello! So sorry for the large time gaps between posts! Life has been very crazy! But I have a few different works to write so I hope to get those out fairly quick!

If there was one thing practically all of Yellowstone knew about Rip Wheeler, it was that nobody messes with his woman. Messing with his woman is equivalent to committing a war crime, punishable by death. Or a major ass beating, whichever Rip chose in that moment.

Rip had met you on the ranch when you were helping out with the work load. Being a close friend to the Dutton family, you always had a place to stay on the ranch. Your love for ranch life keeping you close to the ranch and all of it’s residents. The moment Rip laid eyes on you, he knew you were the one for him.

He was protective of you, especially when you moved to the ranch to live in his cabin with him. Rip knew how some of the men on the ranch could be and he would make sure they knew to respect you as much as they did the Duttons. Hell, you were practically a Dutton yourself. You were family to the Duttons, you were born and raised on the ranch. John always calling you his niece and you calling him “Uncle John.”

Some of the ranch hands didn’t always respect you like they did the rest of the family. Rip wouldn’t have any of it, always shooting them death looks as a warning. Constantly trying to get it through their thick skulls that you were as much of a Dutton as the family was.

This exact thought ran through his head when he overheard Walker talking about you after you had just left. Rip already hated Walker, it was no secret to anyone. Hearing him talk about you just added to his burning hatred for the man.

“Why the hell should we listen to her? Because she’s close to the family? She’s a bitch is what she is.” Walker complained to Jimmy, stacking hay in the process.

Jimmy looked up, his eyes wide with fear. He dropped the hay and backed away after seeing the look on Rip’s face. The way Rip tensed up immediately caught the attention of Lloyd, who was quick to start paying attention to what was happening.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Rip growled, dropping what was in his hands.

Walker looked at Rip, a smug smirk growing on his face. He continued stacking hay, eyes locked with Rip’s. Lloyd stopped what he was doing to watch the situation closely, knowing damn well it wouldn’t end well for Walker.

“Oh, I’m sorry. She’s YOUR bitch. How could I forget?” Walker said, stepping closer to Rip.

The rage was boiling up inside of Rip, his fists clenching so tight he could feel the sting of his fingernails digging into his palms. Then Walker came closer again, seeming to be taunting Rip. The smirk on his face looking extremely punchable.

“I’m gonna kill you…with my bare fucking hands!” Rip raised his voice, lunging at Walker.

Rip punched Walker with enough force to knock him to the ground. Punch after punch landed on Walker, causing enough commotion to upset the horses in the stables. You heard the commotion and ran out of the stables, your eyes landing on the fight taking place.

Lloyd pulled Rip off of Walker after a few seconds, knowing Rip would and could kill Walker if he wanted to. He had to hold Rip back from going after Walker again. It was then that Lloyd noticed you standing there, your eyes wide in surprise.

“That’s enough, Rip! Take a walk!” Lloyd warned, pushing Rip away.

“If you ever say anything about Y/n again, I will kill you. I will kill you without any hesitation, Walker.” Rip threatened Walker, shaking out of Lloyd’s grip. Lloyd proceeded to help Walker to his feet before going off on him about what he did.

“Rip, stop. He learned his lesson.” You said from behind him.

Rip whirled around, eyes locking onto you in an instant. He knew that look on your face, worry and amusement? He gave you a confused look, walking closer to you. You didn’t look directly at him, instead you were glaring at Walker.

“Y/n, Darlin’, I promise you Walker deserved it.” Rip said, his large hands finding their way to your hips.

“Oh, I know. I heard everything, heard him talking about me. Heard him taunting you. He had it coming.” You looked up at Rip, his relieved smile making you chuckle.

“You really are something, Woman. You know that?” Rip smiled at you, squeezing your hips gently.

“It’s been mentioned a few times, Cowboy.” You giggled as he kissed you.

You looked at Walker, who was still being ripped a new one by Lloyd. You walked over to them, nodding at Lloyd, giving him a look that you wanted to say something. Lloyd stepped back politely, letting you take over.

“Listen Walker, you might think you are a badass, but you're not. You’re an ex-convict with an attitude problem. And you are on the wrong ranch if you think that will fly. Rip might have beat your ass, but that was nothing compared to what will happen if you speak like that to anyone again. Don’t push your luck.” You said, turning to walk back to Rip.

“Damn Sweetheart, seems you don’t need me around to defend yourself.” He looked down at you.

“We knew that, but you know how much I like seeing you so protective.” You smiled, fixing Rip’s jacket as he left a kiss to your forehead.

#rip wheeler #rip wheeler x reader #yellowstone #rip wheeler yellowstone

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r0ttenhearts · 1 year

Text

Friends? Part II

Scaramouche x Best Friend! Reader

a few weeks had passed since scaramouches outburst in his room. you had managed to steer clear of interacting with him, staying in your room for a majority of the time. it’s not like you had any other friends outside of him anyway, you had spent too much time with him to devote yourself to anyone else.

so there you were, laying in bed scrolling on your feed. all you could see was the pictures scaramouche would post with her. oh how you hated her. maybe even scara as well. their smiles as they posed for pictures, the way he stood so close to her. that same burning feeling boiling up inside of you as you tapped off of his page, knowing you’d just get more upset if you looked at it any longer.

“ugh.” you groaned into your pillow as you held it against your face, the soft material couldn’t begin to soothe the ache in your heart. with a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself out of bed and down the stairs, slipping your shoes on as you walked out of your house. moping would do nothing, so to combat that you would buy your favorite comfort snacks. and then go back to moping.

you trudged along the road until you made it to a convenience store by your home. the cool air and soft dings from the door opening almost felt bittersweet as you remembered the last time you were here. you had last been here with him. you grit your teeth as your nails dug into your palm, walking by the freezers and grabbing your favorite drink, remembering how the two of you laughed as you picked a drink to share that hot summer afternoon. once you finished picking out your snacks and paying, you left the comfort of the cold store, only wishing to go back in once you saw who was outside.

there he was. his strikingly familiar purple hair, his electric purple eyes as he looked at you in surprise. you felt that same burning feeling as you looked at him. how long had it been since you’ve looked at him? you couldn’t help but glare at him as you walked past him, the bag in your hand softly crinkling as it swayed against your leg.

“wait! y/n!”

you turned slowly as you looked at him. was he finally going to apologize? make up with you so you could go back to being as close as you once were? but didn’t he say he barely considered you a friend?

“your.. game. you left it at my place the last time you were there. do you mind if i swing by later and leave it with you?”

oh. he didn’t care to apologize, he just didn’t want any reminders of you. “i don’t mind.” you curtly replied as you turned, walking faster so he wouldn’t have a chance to say anything more. once you made it inside you rushed upstairs, closing your door promptly shut as you leaned against it. your heart was pounding in your chest as you felt your chest squeeze. a loud sob escaped your mouth as you cried. all of those feelings you had for him were for nothing. he didn’t care for you or what he said to you. all of it meant nothing.

you sobbed into your hands, wishing for all of those feelings to just disappear. things would have been easier if you two had never met, had never gotten close.

an hour had passed before you heard sharp knocks on your door that you instantly recognized. your eyes were puffy and red as you answered the door. scaramouches eyes widened as he handed you your game. he had noticed you had been crying. but did he realize it had been because of him?

you moved to shut your door but he held his hand out, you looked at him with the door still in your grip as he spoke to you.

“listen y/n.. i didn’t mean what i said to you that day. i just hate how you get over haypasia. you both mean different things to me, so it’s only natural for me to feel.. protective of her. you get that right?”

oh the audacity he had. you laughed dryly as you looked at him. all of those feelings of love felt like poison pulsing through your veins. “really? you feel protective over her? well guess what scara? i fucking loved you. i thought the world of you. so i’m sorry that i thought i could spend time with the boy i love. i’m sorry for even thinking you felt the same. like those late night talks, and sharing ice creams were purely platonic. forgive me for thinking it meant something.”

you paused before looking down at your feet, you could feel his eyes on you and it made you feel small. “sorry for wasting your time. i know how much she means to you now. this wasn’t going to work out, you were right.” you closed the door in his face as he stood there, looking at the closed door. he clicked his tongue, sticking his hands in his pockets as he left. he had done what he could, he wouldn’t fight for someone he didn’t regard in the same way. not in the same way as you would have for him.

taglist: @bk-4-trash-fire @hheryn

part III:

#scaramouche x you #scaramouche angst #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche

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horrorhot-line · 2 years

Text

eunoia

(n.) beautiful thinking; a well mind.

➵ pairing: saiki kusuo/reader

➵ word count: 4.8k

➵ genre: slight angst? fluff

➵ warnings: none

➵ summary: teruhashi and mikoto swap looks and all it does is annoy saiki, he asks you for help once again. alternatively, teruhashi and mikoto compete to figure out saiki’s type, you try not to get involved but get dragged into things anyway.

➵ masterlist (requests are open)

➵previous post - rame

I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING POSTED BY ANYONE ELSE ON ANY PLATFORM

before you read:

‘saiki telepathically communicating with reader’ ‘reader thinking or interacting with saiki through thoughts.’ “saiki talking without moving his mouth.” “saiki talking using his mouth.”

notes: this was a request, found here, finally i’ve managed to update the series and i hope you all like the newest rendition. this one’s based off of season 2 episode 17. enjoy!!!

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Sitting across from Kokomi, you took down notes from her book. You had asked her beforehand for help since you didn't understand the class material. Of course, like the 'angel' she was, she didn't refuse. After grabbing a chair from another desk, you had parked yourself in front of her. Though, it proved hard to focus when everyone around you gushed about her perfect she was.

You leaned back in place, picking up Kokomi's notebook to take a closer look at it, squinting your eyes at it. Almost as if the action itself would help it magically make sense. The words written on the pages were elegant- even her handwriting was perfect. You sighed, yet again realising that if anyone ended up with Saiki- it would be her.

'Stop thinking useless things.' You nearly jumped in surprise. Would you ever get used to him randomly talking to you telepathically? Probably not. You furrowed your eyebrows and closed your eyes in slight frustration. 'I swear I told you to stop that.' You thought back at Saiki, recognising his voice in your head.

You shoved down the thought of how nice he sounded, regardless of whether he talked to you with his mouth or not. 'Stop what?' He retorted. You were grateful Teruhashi was too busy feeling proud of the attention she was getting from the guys in the class to pay attention to your expressions. 'Checking into my thoughts like I'm some radio station.' You huffed mentally.

'I can't help hearing you.' You exhaled through your nose, slumping in your seat. You knew he was right, but still! He didn't have to reply to you- he could ignore it. 'It's not like I'm wrong, she's perfec-' He cut off your thought before you could continue. 'Don't care.' Typical Saiki, always having to be in the right. 'Why not?'

'Because I don't... besides, she's not my type.' That made you raise an eyebrow to yourself. You looked over your shoulder to Saiki, still sitting at his desk, before you turned around to face in front of you. 'Why not?' You hoped you didn't sound too curious, aiming for indifference. It didn't work. 'She's not my type,' He reiterated.

That made you wonder, who was then? You shook your head, going back to pretending you were paying attention to Teruhashi's notebook- or trying to, at least. It was none of your business, to begin with, so it's not like you'd pry. Part of you didn't want to know so you wouldn't go around unconsciously changing your appearance.

What good would it do finding out anyway? It's not like you would fit his expectations. Knowing him meant being aware of the fact that he didn't have a single bone for romance in his body. That didn't stop the pang of pain you felt in your gut. You chose to halt your thought process before you got upset. There was no point souring your mood over something like that.

You would've started focusing on the school work you had left had it not been for Mikoto calling out Saiki's name. "Kusuo!" Turned out, you weren't the only one paying attention- Teruhashi had whipped her head to look in their direction. If you hadn't moved back in time, her perfect hair would have slapped you in the face.

"Let's go get cake later!" Mikoto announced, and you ignored the bitter taste in your mouth. Was this feeling... jealousy? No way. It was, but it's not like you would admit it to yourself. You watched Teruhashi's expression darken, and you moved back. She had a piece of her hair in her mouth, and she ground her teeth in anger. She looked creepy, and you had no intention of setting her off, even by accident. She was giving off Sadako (girl from the ring) vibes. You shivered involuntarily.

You didn’t need the power of mind reading to know what she was thinking. ‘Acting so friendly with Saiki, darn that b!tch!’

You said nothing when Teruhashi got up abruptly and excused herself to you, knowing full well she was going after Mikoto and the psychic. Saiki was popular- he had two of the prettiest girls in the school chasing after him. You exhaled deeply, shaking your head to yourself.

So much for not putting yourself in a sour mood. You quietly returned to your desk, deciding to sleep the rest of the day away instead. Education be damned.

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

Your jaw dropped to the floor when you came to school the next day, only to find Teruhashi had copied Mikoto's style. The rest of the guys in the classroom shared your sentiment. "Oh, my!" and "No way!!" was all they could muster. One of them asked what had happened to her directly. "A makeover," She answered, a faint blush lining her cheeks. You cringed.

The boys in the class ogled at her telling her how great she looked. Personally, you thought the change didn't suit her, but to each their own. Did miss perfect think the fortune teller in question was Saiki's type? Oh, dear lord.

You were sat across Saiki this time when she showed up to school. 'What is she doing?' Saiki thought at you, and you replied, still staring at Teruhashi- dumbfounded. 'I think you already know.' He deadpanned, sighing at her behaviour. 'She thinks I'm going to gasp.'

‘Who knows, maybe you will.’ You teased, only for him to turn to you with his face void of emotion. ‘Stop it.’ You wanted to snort because Saiki would do that when pigs fly. Disclaimer: never gonna happen. Not on your watch. 'Fat chance.' Knowing him, he'd just sigh at her behaviour. She had the wrong idea about the pink-haired boy, that was for sure.

You hadn't noticed Mikoto standing behind you until Saiki raised his head to look at her, and she spoke. "Wah! Terukoko, that look fits you!" She complimented, before presenting herself to Saiki. 'And this one, what has she done?' You raised your head back to look at her before you rushed to turn around in your chair when you caught a glimpse of her. 'Oh, no...' You thought back at Saiki. 'Oh, no indeed, good grief.' What a disaster.

She had straightened her hair and dyed it brown- though her iconic clip remained. Her jewellery and acrylic nails were nowhere to be seen. "What do you think? I'm mainstream, now," Mikoto questioned. Had the two- had they switched their looks for the day? Of course, they had. But why? Ah, it was because they were trying to be Saiki's type, each one confusing something fundamental. The boy didn't have one- a type.

He did, but what you weren’t aware of that.

Not waiting for an answer from Saiki, she turned to Teruhashi, going back to gushing over her with a smile. "Terukoko, you looked really cute, so I tried a more conventional look like yours." At least she was honest, you had to commend her for that. 'Terukoko?' Saiki commented, questioning the nickname. You were too shell shocked to reply.

"It's a wig, though," Mikoto clarified, and you sighed in relief. She hadn't done any permanent damage. 'What are they trading looks for?' Of course, he didn't know- the boy was dense as a rock. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Exactly what I said. It means you can't even tell when they change their styles to impress you.' You shot back. You felt Teruhashi staring at the two of you, but refused to look her way- in fear of incurring the anger of a jealous high school girl in love. 'Great, now Teruhashi thinks I like girls for their boobs.'

You turned to look back at him, your back hurting from twisting to observe Mikoto. 'Why would she think that?' You questioned Saiki. He sighed, lowering his head. 'That's the difference between the two.' You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. He wasn't wrong, Teruhashi's chest was small compared to the fortune teller. A cup vs Double Ds.

It was clear the psychic had had enough of the whole fiasco. Mikoto left after Saiki told her off, apologising as she did. You exhaled. Something about the two of them switching styles to catch Saiki's attention didn't sit well with you. You ignored the feeling, refusing to dwell on it further. Instead, you focused on Saiki. A mistake, if you were being honest.

The moment you got lost in admiring his features, the world faded away. A horrible sign, because it meant this boy had a hold on you and he wouldn't do a damn thing about it. You wanted to reach out and touch his hair, it looked soft to the touch and you wanted to feel it. To feel him. You restrained yourself, not wanting to make him uncomfortable.

Saiki would let you touch his hair if you asked, but you didn't- so it's not like he'd offer himself. You didn't need to know that, though.

His lips looked soft too, they were light pink, a few shades dimmer compared to his hair. When the thought of kissing him crossed your mind, you clenched your jaw. No. You would never go there, you wouldn't allow yourself to even imagine it.

He was your friend for god's sake! You had to keep yourself in line. Lest you destroy the relationship you had with him. When his eyes met yours, stoic and devoid of emotion, you felt your heart stop. The butterflies erupted in your stomach and you cursed at yourself for letting something that simple get to you.

You didn't even realise he was calling, your mind hadn't even registered his lips moving, calling out your name. Only when he softly touched your hand, the one on his desk did you snap out of it. You flushed red- the colour, you were sure had enveloped your entire being.

"Y/n. Pay attention. You'll fail the upcoming mock test otherwise." No witty response came from you, too dazed to fire back. "Ye-yeah." You said meekly, failing to notice the look of slight worry Saiki shot at you. The feeling of his fingers on the back of your hand, made the tips of your ears burn. You tried not to think about how nice his touch felt.

His hands were warm. He was warm.

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You decided by the end of the school day that you weren't going to get involved with the non-existent love triangle Mikoto and Teruhashi were convinced existed. You made quick work of packing your bags, noting how Saiki had come to the same conclusion as you, excluding himself from the situation.

Saiki had gone to the toilet right before the last period concluded, his typical escape route when he wanted to avoid people. Truth be told, you were surprised that neither female had followed him.

Before you had the chance to put your pencil case away, the girls in question had walked up to your desk. You reluctantly looked up, your hand in your bag as you shot them a tense smile. You had spoken too soon. Looked like not getting involved wouldn't be an option.

Mikoto brushed her wig behind her shoulder before folding her arms in front of her chest. You tried not to pay attention to the way her boobs looked bigger because of the action, looking at the desk next to you as if it was interesting.

'Y/n, don't say a word. Walk away.' Saiki's voice reverberated inside your skull.

You tried to control your expression of surprise, had you not done so, your eyebrows would've disappeared past your hairline. Trying not to think about how much you missed his honey-like voice, you zipped up your bag quietly.

Traitor. If he was going to escape, knowing what was to come, he should've taken you with him. A fair warning, at least, would've been nice. You didn't have the braincells for this. The remaining three just screamed 'Hungry, angry, hangry!'

"Need something?" You asked absent-mindedly as you checked the time on your phone. "What's Saiki's type?" You sighed inwardly. Of course, Mikoto would be direct. Your eyes met Teruhashi's, who immediately looked away as if she was embarrassed. No surprise there, she would never ask, lest she gives away the name of her 'secret' crush.

'Don't say anything, Y/n. I'm warning you.' Saiki affirmed, and you groaned internally. 'I got it, I got it. Wasn't planning on it anyways, I don't know your type to begin wit- wait, are you still in the bathroom?'

Silence passed for a few seconds before he said something again. '...Yes.' The corners of your mouth twitched. You stopped yourself from laughing, the idea of Saiki squatting on a closed toilet bowl trying to talk to you flashed through your head. 'I'm not squatting. Good grief. Just get rid of them.'

You rolled your eyes mentally, before looking at Mikoto, who was still waiting for your response. "You're asking the wrong person- I don't know." You hoped that would get them to leave you alone. You didn't even get the chance to grab your school bag before she spoke up again. "How could you not? You're close with him!" You sighed, audibly this time.

"So, what? Doesn't mean I have an answer to your question." Forget being polite, you did not have the mental capacity for a conversation like that today. You turned to leave the classroom only to find Mikoto was still following you, Teruhashi on her heels. "Wai- Wait up! Stop trying to keep him to yourself, Y/n! I got a right to know." Her voice still as cheery as always.

That pissed you off. Keep him- to yourself? What a joke. You had no intention of making a move on Saiki. You turned around abruptly, stopping her in her tracks. "I am not. He's my friend, and I have no interest in the guy. Do you get that? F-R-I-E-N-D-S. I don't know his type, he's never told me or shown a liking for the female gender for that matter." You clenched your jaw.

Did they have any idea how much it hurt watching them try so hard for him? Knowing you could never act as freely as they did? Watching them chase after him any chance they got? You didn't mind their feelings for him- after all, it wasn't your place to decide who could go after him and who couldn't. That didn't mean you wouldn't feel jealous of it, though. ‘F^ck this.’

"Why don't you ask him, yourself?" You huffed before you turned on your heel. You half-heartedly accepted the sorry Mikoto shot your way, waving your hand before you walked down the hallway to the stairs that would get you out of the stupid school building.

When Saiki teleported from the bathroom to the shoe lockers near the exit, joining you in walking home, you stayed silent.

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The next day wasn't any better. Mikoto showed up with the same wig from the day before, and glasses this time. You assumed she hadn't taken your advice and asked him. When Teruhashi entered the classroom, you sighed for the 1000th time that week.

Teruhashi had dyed her hair blonde and had a bow resting in it. Not to mention the fact that it was curled just like Mikoto's. 'It gets worse,' you thought to yourself, shaking your head. Like clockwork, the boys in the class crowded around her, telling her how cute she looked. Some wondered why she had changed. What was she? Some kind of zoo animal?

"Te-Teruhashi, what did you do?" One of them asked. 'She really did it,' Saiki thought at you, and you glanced to your left to observe him. His glasses hid his eyes, but you knew he wasn't pleased. Teruhashi put her hand up next to her eyes like Mikoto would and answered the boy, "I just felt like it." Like hell she did. "So edgy!" The boy who had queried, exclaimed. 'A personality makeover, too?'

Teruhashi passed in front of your desk, heading to Saiki's. You would have bet money that she was trying to get him to gasp. "Good morning, Saiki." When Saiki nodded at her, acknowledging her existence, she turned her head 180°, like some owl. She was clearly shocked he hadn't reacted.

'What's wrong with her brain?' Saiki questioned, and you answered, of course. 'It's because she went to so much effort for you.' The two of you watched as the girl in question ran out of the classroom.

'She's still fixated on boobs?' You snickered quietly to yourself at Saiki's comment. 'Good grief, I don't want her to fall deeper into this,' He stated before he turned to you, 'If she asks for love advice from you, tell her to go back to her normal self.'

'Before I agree, I have to tell you something.' You thought back at him, before completely clearing your mind. A skill you developed, knowing how to stop the psychic from seeing it coming. 'What is it?' There was a pause, you continued to look in front of you. 'You should never fart in an apple store.' You heard him audibly sigh, '...Why?' You tried not to laugh. 'Because they don't have windows.'

'I will kill you.'

'No, you won't.'

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Truth be told, you weren't sure why the school turned to you for advice on relationships when they had Mikoto to just point them in the direction of their soulmate. It was a good revenue to make money though, nothing in this world came for free, after all. That's how you found yourself sitting across from Mikoto, a 100 yen coin in her hand. She had decided to turn to you the right way this time. With money.

"I need advice." She claimed, and you nodded looking around the empty classroom. Mostly empty, since Saiki was still there, just existing. You were next to the seats near the lockers since everyone else had left to go on their break and the chairs were free. "I know." You rubbed your temple, ignoring the headache that emerged.

Trying not to pay attention to the dull pain behind your right eye socket, you gestured with your hand for her to continue before folding your arms in front of your chest. "I changed my style to fit Teruhashi's looks and it's not working, I don't understand what I have to do to get his attention."

When you stayed silent, she continued, and you pretended her talking about Saiki didn't affect you. Nope. Not one bit... Okay, maybe it did a little. Your job as the designated love guru came first, though. You needed the 100 yen to buy coffee jelly for Saiki. "I'm gonna be honest with you. You're my rival." That caught you off guard, and you furrowed your eyebrows at her.

"Heh, why?" You questioned, not understanding what she meant. Why would you be her love rival when you had no intention of acting on the stupid crush you had? She sighed, looking out the window of the classroom. "I looked into your fortune like I did with Saiki. I just want you to know I'm not going to stop competing with you." Mikoto turned back to look at you, and you were left even more confused.

Your head reeled. What the hell was she on about? You liked Mikoto, she was nice, and headstrong, not taking shit from anyone, but she was cryptic. Something you didn't enjoy much, since she spoke in riddles at times. Like now. "Why would you compete-" You didn't get a chance to finish as Mikoto cut you off. "You're his absolute future, his absolute soulma-"

Teruhashi walked in before she could finish, and you coughed into your hand and moved back in your seat, pretending you hadn't been at the edge of it. She still had Mikoto's style, and you had to say, it was growing on you. You wouldn't lie, she was still pretty. She took a chair and placed it beside Mikoto.

"I need your advice." Of course, she did as well. You dragged your hands down your face, already done with the day. You weren't a fan of talking about love with them when you knew that they were trying to pine for Saiki. Regardless, you'd give it, because the boy in question had asked you to.

"Payment first, both of you." When they gave it to you, you put the 200 yen on your side of the desk before you looked at them expectantly. "The guy I like doesn't care no matter how much I change myself for him." Teruhashi piped up first, and Mikoto agreed with her, saying she had the same issue.

You leaned back in your chair and it creaked slightly due to the shift in weight. "The issue isn't whether he cares or not. Ask yourselves this, why are you changing into someone that isn't true to yourself? Why do that for a guy? There isn't any point in it, because if he doesn't like you for you, then what use is he to you?"

Both of them looked at each other before turning to you. "So, what are you saying? Give up on him?" Mikoto spoke first this time, and Teruhashi agreed. You sighed, they still didn't get it. "No- I'm saying go back to your original styles, then try again. Copying each other won't help you." When they stayed silent, thinking on your words, you knew your work was done. With that, you took the 200 yen and returned to your desk next to Saiki.

The day after, the both of them had returned to normal and you sighed with relief.

'You owe me.'

'I know.'

➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵ ➵

bonus:

"I need your help, again." Of course, Saiki did. It was a regular occurrence. Whenever he didn't want to be bothered, he'd use you as some sort of human shield against 'nuisances', i.e, his friends. Now it was your turn to deadpan at the pink-haired boy.

You raised your eyebrows to mock him, your eyelids lowered as you nodded your head with a knowing look. "What is it this time?" As your eyes trailed from his to stare at the hand on your arm, a feeling of deja vu washed over you. This situation was eerily similar to when Saiki had asked you to third wheel when he didn't want to hang out with Teruhashi alone. "Mikoto wants to get cake with me after school."

The only difference this time was that it was break time and he had caught you on the roof of the school. You tried not to think how pretty he looked with the sunlight bathing him in its glow. You ran a hand through your hair, "I can't refuse, Can I?" You turned from looking at the school field to Saiki. When your eyes met the place he was holding you, he didn't let go.

"It wasn't a question." He stated bluntly. You let out a huff of amusement, of course, it wasn't. The same predicament as the last time this had happened came up, to help or to not help. You could try ducking under him to escape, but you knew it wouldn't work. As much as you didn't want to roll over and let Saiki have his way, you knew you'd let it happen.

Then, making him work for it, wouldn't hurt right? "I don't think so. I'm not helping." Despite Saiki's expression not changing, the twitch of his eyebrow told you he was peeved. "You're coming with me." You huffed in annoyance. Always so damn stubborn. "Why don't you just go with her? You love sweet stuff." You tried not to pay attention to how his touch was doing things to your heart. You felt the breeze of the afternoon on your skin, thankful for it since it helped cool you down.

Saiki had yet to break eye contact with you, and you didn't like the feeling of your insides being squeezed, not one bit. You broke the stare first. "Because it's bothersome." You looked at him incredulously, why was it your job to help him, just because he thought of it as a chore?

"You already owe me, Kusuo." You stated.

"I know." He replied almost immediately.

"I will come to collect a favour." You confirmed.

"I know." He shot back.

You sighed, "Fine! I'll come with- see you after class." You agreed as much as you didn't want to. Seeing Mikoto try to get Saiki to like her didn't sound appealing in the slightest. You expected him to leave, he had gotten what he came for.

To your surprise, he stayed put. "...What?" You asked, unsure what he wanted. "I'm waiting for you. Class is about to start and we're going to be late." You gave him a soft smile at that. The small act of consideration was enough to remind you that this boy owned your heart. Out of all the people in the world, Saiki Kusuo just had to be the one you fell for. When you didn't move, too lost in your thoughts, he spoke.

"For your first favour, I'll let you touch my hair. Once." You nearly choked on the spit in your mouth, did you hear him right??? When you stayed silent, too shocked to say a word, Saiki elaborated, "You were thinking about it two days ago." You flushed with embarrassment. He had heard you?!

Of course, he had- he had telepathy after all. Curse you for letting your thoughts run wild in a 200-metre radius of him. You wanted to combust, praying to any higher power to just let the ground beneath you swallow you up. Anything would be better than having to be in this situation.

"Stop reading my mind, will you?" You said meekly, hoping that was all he heard. "I can't help it when you're that loud. Now hurry up before I change my mind." You forced your mind to not go at a hundred miles per hour. No such luck. Act cool, Y/n, please. You begged internally.

You moved closer to him, trying not to pay attention to his eyes following your every move. Why did this man have to make you so nervous? You could feel your face burning, and when he finally let go of your arm, you reached forward. You tentatively placed your fingers over his pink locks, exhaling nervously.

The moment your hand came into contact with his hair, your mind went blank. Why did it all feel so natural to you? You were surprised at how soft his hair was, it was like a fluffy carpet, the ones you'd draw designs into just because of how nice it felt on your hands. You let your fingers move to feel more, experimentally.

Saiki's expression had yet to change, the only thing that did was the fact that he was no longer looking at you, staring off to the side. You licked your lips, letting yourself enjoy the moment, knowing you'd never get a chance like this again. You would.

'Why does it feel so soft? What conditioner does he use?'

You sighed in contentment, absentmindedly running your hands through his pink hair as you thought back to when Mikoto and Teruhashi had cornered you to try and find out Saiki's type. What was his type? Did he even have one? If you had to guess, you'd reckon it was someone who loved themselves.

You had a feeling that Saiki didn't like those who tried too hard or who changed just for him. That much was obvious from how he reacted to the two girl's switching styles. So, someone who remained true to themselves, no matter what? That had to be it.

“Oh, Wow.”

You froze, what f^ck was that? You looked to Saiki, questioning if you had misheard him. It was his voice, but there was no way the robot of a human was capable of saying those two words. The only thing that changed was that his hand now covered his mouth. You watched him, and when he refused to meet your gaze, you became suspicious.

"Kusuo...?" Your words trailed off when you noticed his ears, moving your hand to the side to take a better look. Were they... were they pink? Compared to his normal ivory skin, they looked flushed. Again, what the f^ck?

When you realised the same colour was creeping up to his neck from the collar of his school shirt, you wondered if you were hallucinating. Then, like it had been a trick of the light, it disappeared. He turned to you, finally looking you in the eyes. "What?" He tried to act nonchalant, but you saw through it. If you weren't so shocked you would have teased him.

You knew it! You had heard right! You had managed to do what even Teruhashi couldn't after months of effort. You had gotten the boy to say, "Oh, wow!" You were never going to forget this, mentally patting yourself on the back. You didn't care this time when your ears burnt as if they were on fire.

With one final rub to his hair, you retracted your hand. You wanted to say it. Right then and there. 'I like you. I've liked you since the moment we met, I don't know how it happened but I like you, you idiot.'

You stayed silent, swallowing your words, and biting your tongue. "Your hair is soft." Was all that you could muster. Saiki sighed, "Good grief. Now that you're done, we need to go. We're going to be late if we don't leave, Now." When he turned and started to speed walk, you shouted, "Wait up, Kusuo." Before following him.

The smile on your face didn't leave, not once.

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next part - kilig

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