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breadbrobin · 4 months

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campfire games

luke castellan x reader - percy jackson and the olympians

[established relationship, fem!daughter of ares reader]

summary: bets are fun, until they aren’t. you’re fine though. luke knows you’re an absolute badass.

warning: pushy male behaviour, suggestive comments, swearing, bets, threats, assault (physical), sexual harassment.

word count: 1.6k

(help i’m writing too many of these but this is the only other good one also feel free to leave requests yall i’m on summer break i have so much time and need something to do 🤩🤩)

(also i am still in love with luke castellan thank you very much I CAN FIX HIM PLSSSS)

(also very sorry to anyone named andrew it was the first name i thought of)

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there wasn’t much that your siblings in the ares cabin liked more than winning capture the flag, but watching you tear down another boys’ ego was definitely one of those few things.

campfires were great for many reasons. singing, marshmallows, games—and bets. when chiron and mr d. turned in for the night early, something that rarely happened, the bets would come out. guys would try and talk to you, your siblings would intercept them, find out what they wanted, then place bets among themselves and with other campers as to how long it would take you to tear them down a few notches, or, on occasion, tear them a new one.

clarisse patted your shoulder as two of your brothers talked to another camper. “incoming.”

“details?” you picked at the chipped red polish of your fingernails.

“son of apollo. been here for about two months. andrew. something about wanting to go on a date with you and thinking you’re prettier than the aphrodite girls.” she rolled her eyes. “he tried it on with me before and doesn’t like taking no for an answer, so break his spirit completely. or, you know, his bones.”

you saluted her teasingly. “yes, ma’am. you can count on me, sergeant.”

she patted your shoulder again with a joking grin. “good on you, private. godspeed.”

with that, she left you sitting alone.

well, not really alone.

luke castellan had somehow ended up as your bodyguard in all of these cases. probably something to do with the fact that you’d been dating in secret for the last three months. you weren’t a huge fan of keeping your relationship a secret, but when you’d told clarisse, she told you that her and your other siblings wanted to keep making easy money, and betting on me was the best way to do that. since everyone thought you and luke hated each other anyway, it was easy enough to keep it up, but as your mocking remarks turned to teasing, then to flirting, it was getting more and more difficult. and as he was getting more attractive each day, it was getting harder not to kiss him in front of everyone at camp.

you swivelled in your seat to look up at him. he was sitting three rows back, almost hidden in the darkness, a distinctly put out look on his face.

“you hear that?” you asked with raised eyebrows and a grin on your face. “he thinks i’m prettier than the aphrodite girls. when have you ever said that?”

“i told you you’re prettier than a model one time and you punched me,” he said dryly. “and then i said you look like a goddess while fighting and you punched me again.”

“in my defence, i did hate you at the time.” you shrugged. “got my back?”

“always.” he said seriously.

you grinned and winked at him as you turned around, waiting for the newest idiot to come annoy you.

luke had, once upon a time, been one of those idiots in your mind. he irritated you to no end. he was better than you at sword fighting, so you bested him at everything else. he was more popular than you, so you became one of the most well-liked people at camp. all of your attempts to break him down, however, only made him fall in love with you. now, there you were, wishing you could be sitting beside him instead of waiting for some loser to come annoy you to death.

“y/n, hey.” andrew said, sitting next to you, probably a little too close.

you looked over at him. “andrew, right?”

he nodded, his smile widening as you knew his name.

you sat up straighter and scrutinised him, looking him up and down. “yeah, you look like an andrew.”

you heard luke hide a laugh in his cup behind you.

andrew’s face fell a little, but he regained it quickly. “heard you were one of the best fighters in camp.”

“i am.”

“that’s pretty cool. i mean, i can help you become the best if you want.”

“no, i think i’m okay.”

“come on, i mean, everyone needs to improve. even the self-proclaimed best. bet i’m better at archery than you at least.”

you looked over at his smirk and had to stop yourself from smirking too. this would be too easy. “no. thanks, though. i’m good on my own. one of the best, remember.”

“you could be better. we should have a little challenge. a game.”

“i only play games with people i like.”

“you could like me.” he leaned a little closer. you leaned away slightly. “i bet i could make you like me.”

you had to stop yourself from laughing. “yeah, i don’t think so, buddy.”

‘buddy’ was usually all it took to break a man’s ego. you’d used it on luke many times during unusually flirtatious sparring, back when you still pretended to hate his guts. it didn’t work on him anymore, but it usually worked perfectly on everyone else.

andrew didn’t falter. “i bet i could. give me a chance. let me take on a date. show you a good time.”

“no, thanks,” you said calmly. your siblings were watching intently. clarisse looked ready to step in if you needed it. you wondered what he’d said or done to her to put her on edge. then you realised it wasn’t what he’d done to her. it was what he was about to do to you.

his hand was on your thigh, gripping onto the bare skin by the hem of your shorts.

his hand was on your thigh.

gross.

you looked up at him, eyes sharp. you could hear luke shifting slightly behind you. “what are you doing?” you voice was deathly calm.

“showing you that i can show you a good time, princess.” his voice oozed honey—sickly sweet and sticky, like a fly trap. good thing you hated honey.

“how about i show you how many bones there are in the hand? by breaking every single one.” your voice was equally as saccharine sweet, but your eyes were glaring daggers into his and your jaw was set tight.

he just shifted his hand higher. you tried to push him off but he was strong. annoyingly strong.

he tutted. “come on, sweetheart. you’re gonna make a scene.”

you finally managed to peel his hand off your skin. “i’ll make a scene, alright. get off me and leave me alone. and while you’re at it, leave my sister alone too.”

he raised his hands, a sickening, sleazy smirk on his face. “i was just being nice, princess. you and your sister need to relax. you especially. i can help you relax.”

“oh, i’d love that. you know how i relax?” you tilted your head mockingly, eyes hard. “i punch my enemies in the face.”

he laughed. “you’re cute. now, come on. it’s not like you’ve got anything going for yourself. i mean, you’re hot, sure, but no guys ever gonna look at you when they realise how much of a bitch you are. not like i will.”

you rolled your eyes and stood up. it was time to go and sit by luke. it grated at you, but if he wouldn’t listen to you, maybe he’d listen to another guy.

he didn’t let you leave. his hand gripped your wrist and pulled you back to him as he stood up too. you were chest to chest with him. he towered over you, at least six inches taller. you stepped back, but he pulled you in by your waist and laughed.

“look at how good we look together,” he smirked. “i could show you—“

you punched him in the stomach. he doubled over, finally letting you go, so you kneed his diaphragm. he gasped for air as you stepped back. your friend chris rodriguez whistled appreciatively.

“touch me, or anyone here, ever again and i won’t just hurt you.” you hissed at him. “i’ll beat your ass, then i’ll drag you past the boundary and leave you for the monsters. got it?”

he nodded, still hunched over.

“good boy,” you grit out.

“fucking bitch,” he grunted.

your eyes darkened, but you didn’t do anything. your siblings were right behind him, all ready to drag him away. “good luck walking tomorrow, andrew.”

“good luck finding a guy stupid enough to fuck you,” he scorned.

you laughed. “hey, luke?”

“yeah, babe?” he stepped down beside you, his hand settling on your hip and pulling you gently into his side. andrew faltered at the sight. he probably hadn’t even realised luke was up there.

“are you stupid enough to fuck me?” you asked with raised eyebrows.

he looked like he was trying not to laugh. “oh, i’m way past stupid.”

you didn’t care about any of your sibling’s bets anymore. you didn’t care that people thought you hated each other. you especially didn’t care that everyone was watching. you kissed him. and in front of the whole camp, he kissed you back.

your siblings groaned in disappointment, knowing their betting days were over, but you didn’t care. you smiled the stupidest smile ever as you pulled away, feeling like you’d just had your first kiss all over again.

“what?” he asked quietly.

“nothing.” you shook your head. “just glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

after months of kissing behind buildings, pretending to fight in public and avoiding each other so people wouldn’t find out, it felt honestly freeing to kiss him in the open.

he kissed you again as your siblings dragged andrew away. “and all it took was an asshole.”

“thanks for not stepping in,” you said. “i had it handled.”

“oh, i know you did. i was more than happy to watch you destroy his ego.”

“good, because if you had stepped in—“

“i’d be going home in an ambulance?” he smiled.

“no, you’d be going home in a hearse.”

“ah, my bad.”

as the campfire kept burning, you sat down with luke. your legs were pressed against his and his arm was around your waist. there wasn’t much that you liked more than tearing boy’s egos down, but being with luke castellan was definitely one of those few things.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo x reader #pjo #charlie bushnell #luke castellan x you

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luveline · 9 months

Note

I read the Derek and Spencer fainting bit and now I want to complete it with Hotch :)))

If that’s alright of course…

thank you for your request ♡ fem!reader

Aaron knows you harbour more affection for him than anyone else on the team, which is a true compliment to him, as you adore Spencer. He can never tell if you're friendly or loving, if you want some or all or nothing, the line between you blurred.

When Morgan and Garcia first began their flirtatious friendship, Aaron thought they were seeing each other on the sly for a whole fortnight. He's a profiler, but he doesn't know everything.

He does, however, know that something is wrong with you today. Hand held up over your eyes, you squint out over the crime scene with a wrinkled nose. The lakeside smells as bad as it looks with gore blackening the surrounding grass. He's been telling you for months to get some shades. You've been ignoring his advice.

Your disapproval of the smell is normal. Your unsure footing is not. You take his forearm when he offers it and step across the muddy bank to the body without audible complaint, though you give him a 'this fucking sucks' narrowing of the eyes when he gives you the time.

"Agent Hotchner," a deputy greets, "Agent L/N. We found the second body here. Bystanders pulled the first out thinking she was still alive, but that was unfortunately not the case."

You shift unprofessionally close to Aaron. He doesn't really care. The sheriff barely looks at you both, his attention on the corpse hidden between overgrown cattails.

Aaron hates to admit that he gives you more of his attention than is helpful. You seem odd. Call it intuition, call it plain old profiling, Aaron reads the next minute of events in the smallest twitch of your finger.

You put your hand on his back and he doesn't think, he just grabs you. The sheriff deputy startles as you fold over Aaron's arm like a marionette with strings sliced, exhaling hard as your body does its best to hit the grass beneath your feet.

"Agent L/N!" The deputy yelps.

"I got her," Aaron says, easing you down to the ground. He keeps a hand behind your head to lay you down flat, the other quick to leap from your side to your cheek. You'll likely have bruises in the shape of his hands at your waist. "Y/N?"

He rubs his thumb under your eye. Quick, he leans down with an ear to your lips and relaxes at the sound of your shallow breathing. He pulls away, resting a hand atop your chest.

"Can you hear me?" he asks, conscious of and ignoring the copious pairs of eyes watching over you.

You don't respond. Aaron goes into emergency mode, flagging down a cop who races for a paramedic, hands at your throat unbuttoning the first button on your blouse, the second in an overabundance of caution.

"Y/N, if you can hear me, I need you to open your eyes. Can you do that?" His tone wavers somewhere between demanding and desperate. "Come on. Come on."

Fainting is one thing. Fainting with no signs of dehydration and little sun exposure is another, especially considering you hadn't moved from one position to another. You've passed out with no obvious cause. Any number of things could be wrong.

He doesn't slap you —it works in the movies and not often elsewhere. In fact, Aaron finds himself at the opposite end of the spectrum. Patient outwardly and insanely panicked on the inside, he holds your face in his hand and waits for someone to tell him you're alright.

Your breath catches, your head lolling into his palm. He straightens it, weary of your airways. "Y/N? Tell me you can hear me."

The whirlwind of your fall and the eternity of your recovery has him holding his breath.

"I can hear you," you mumble, again attempting to turn your head. He lets you this time. He's so relieved, he'd let you do anything.

He fights the urge to shout, Where's the medic? instead following your face, tilting his head to the side. "Open your eyes, honey," he murmurs, for your ears alone.

Your lashes twitch against his pinky index finger. You frown as though you're in pain and finally rouse to attention.

"What hurts?" he asks, brows furrowed.

"Nothing hurts…" Your frown worsens. "You look really unhappy."

"I'm not ecstatic about this," he says. He gives in, shouting, "Where's the medic?"

"Oh, no, please," you say, trying to sit up, "that is so embarrassing."

Aaron pushes you flat to the grass beneath you. "Stop, you need to stay flat. You passed out. This is the solution–" He puts his hand flat over your chest as you put in some effort. "Hey, this is what you need to do. Listen to me, agent."

"What happened to honey?" you ask quietly.

"That's when you were doing what I wanted."

You close your eyes in a faux strop. "I guess I'll have to do what you want more often, sir."

"That's enough." He sounds fond. Why does he sound so fond?

The deputy clears his throat. "Paramedics are here."

You groan. Aaron hides a smile. Through everything, his hand has stayed on your cheek. He doesn't pull it away until he absolutely has to, and even then, he holds some part of you. Your elbow, your wrist. He has the sense to be sheepish about it when the paramedic ushers him back, but even then, he's thinking about when he'll get to touch you next; he needs the assurance that you're okay.

He gets it a half hour later when you're sipping on a gatorade in the back of an SUV.

"Do I still get paid for today?" you ask, smiling playfully. "Or is this a write off?"

He wants to joke about it with you, but there's work to be done. He sends you back to the hotel with a frankly unprofessional hug and a demand to take it easy. He's sure you'll be back stepping on his heels by late afternoon.

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

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yukkisagi · 1 year

Text

"i could treat her way better than you!"

in which some boy tries to confess to you, his girlfriend ft. alhaitham & wanderer (there's clear favoritism here) -fluff, not proofread

ALHAITHAM

no matter how many books this man has opened, he himself has always been a closed one. he never lets anyone know his true feelings or thoughts, so much so that people wonder if he even has them. he's cold, unsympathetic, withdrawn, any red flag adjective that is in the dictionary.

so how on earth is someone romantically linked to the acting grand sage? because of this, there are many onlookers who always want some sort of exclusive sneak peek into you guy's relationship.

some believe you've blackmailed him, others think alhaitham is conducting a psychological study on romance, you personally believe it's because no one else would be able to withstand his snarky remarks and he's aware of it.

these hypotheses are what leads you here, standing in front of one of your random classmates as he tries his best to hide his embarrassment behind his brazen grin.

"i would treat you right," he proudly announces, a crowd slowly starting to gather.

you can hear whispers surrounding you people are starting to stare down at the both of you from the upstairs railing.

"wow the acting grand sage isn't paying enough attention to her."

"he probably would be way more loving"

"honestly, would alhaitham even care?"

that last one couldn't possibly be the farthest from the truth.

alhaitham, even if he never admitted it, was stuck to you like those annoying tiny stickers that are just randomly on fruit. you just find him on you without even realizing it.

"let me take you on one date! that's it! and then you can decide if you want me or him!" the boy take your silence as invitation to continue his case. "i promise you'll have a fun time."

and before you can even answer him, kaveh and alhaitham finally enter the court, their bodies just barely peeking between the gaps of the crowd.

"heh, alhaitham, your girl is getting confessed to!" kaveh giggles while nudging the latter. "are you just gonna let him have her?"

suddenly the group opens space for the two of them, giving alhaitham more time to investigate his surroundings. his eyes meet yours first, the usual bore and tiredness greeting you. the whispers are now hushed as everyone anticipates his response, but he says absolutely nothing.

"look acting grand sage," the boy starts again, and you find it hard to not roll your eyes. "sure, you're great at your scribing and grand sage-ing, but a girlfriend isn't a job, its a duty that i definitely could fulfill better than you."

kaveh is now roaring with laughter, a stark contrast from alhaitham's unchanging face. you're now anticipating his response now, wondering if he would finally publicly claim you as his and only his or if he would just not entertain the conversation and leave you to deal with it, like always.

"look, just do whatever you want. i'd prefer to not waste my time and energy entertaining whatever this is." exactly what you anticipated, you can't help but smirk at your perfect prediction.

the silence was loud, almost overbearing as you watch some drop their jaws at his audacity. it even takes the boy aback, shocked that he would so easily give you away.

"alhaitham!" kaveh starts scolding, "what is wrong with you? are you crazy? do you eve-"

"i meant," alhaitham interrupts after clearing his throat. you can see the annoyance start settling in and patience running thin. "you can try, but i can easily conclude that your efforts will remain fruitless."

"excuse me?" the boy scoffs, a weak attempt at hiding his embarrassment.

"she would never fall for someone as inadequate and desperate as you."

after one more quick glance, flashing you just a glint of his mischievousness, he's off. cape and hair all dramatically swishing to follow his swift footsteps. your feet move before you can even think, instantly trying to catch up to his long strides as everyone watches your lovestruck eyes only follow him.

as everyone, including kaveh, watches you two disappear around the corner in shock, alhaitham can't help but roll his eyes as he feels you linking his arms with his. he knows damn well he would never let you leave and let someone else see that stupid little grin on your face.

he's arrogant, maybe a little more possessive then he let's on and extremely rude, but was he ever wrong?

WANDERER

scaramouche always loves a good a tussle, even if it was against your wishes. you've seen him physically fight off people twice his size, spit his venomous insults to anyone who would even try to whisper within his hemisphere, but never in your life did you think you would have to watch him bicker with a six year old and specifically, about you.

"y/n is princess and you're garbage!" the short boy exclaims as aggressively as his young voice could allow. "i'm making her my girlfriend!

"oh could you now?" your boyfriend scoffs back. "i'd like to see you try."

"watch me!" he scowls and scurries up to you. he pulls out flowers from behind his back and hands them to you as he announces, "i picked these for you because they are pretty just like you!"

"aw thank you!" you graciously accept the flowers, slightly smirking over at the older boy. "you know, scara has never picked me flowers before."

"ha!" the kid laughs at him, sticking his tongue out. "see? y/n is going to fall in love with me."

scaramouche is visibly upset now, watching you entertain the boy and poke his small unnecessarily adorable button nose. he knows your teasing him and it angers him more.

"well i'll have you know!" scaramouche crosses his arm across his chest, puffing in pride with his chin up refusing to look at the two of you. "y/n likes men who are taller then her."

"just wait for me y/n! i'm already half his height and im still growing, unlike that old man!"

"old? i'm not old! you're the one who's too young for her to begin with!" he looks down at the boy with a menacing glare.

"i'll be the same age as her soon!" the boy stands his ground, the boyish confidence radiating from him

"you don't even know her!" how could you possibly be in love with her!?"

"i do know her! she's a princess!"

you can tell your hot headed boyfriend was starting to run out of comebacks. it's hard to fight a kid's reason and logic and scara was already lacking in patience as is. as much as you love seeing the ever so cold and rude scaramouche all worked up and jealous, you kneel down to the younger one, finally ceasing all agruements.

"i'm sorry kid, i really appreciate the flowers, but you're going to be waiting eons for me." you pat his head, offering a gentle a smile. "don't worry, as long as you give them your hand picked flowers, i promise any girl will fall for you."

"and if you fall girls that don't already have a boyfriend," scara annoyingly butts in.

once the boy leaves, not before exchanging tongue spits at scaremouche one more time, you feel two arms wrap around your waist from behind.

"do you actually like handpicked flowers?" he mumbles into your shoulder, his warm ears just barely brushing against your neck

"yea" you hummed, picking at the sweet petals as you try to suppress your giggles for his sake. "only if they're from this slightly taller, much more angry dude who wears a hat twice his size."

#alhaitham #wanderer #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #genshin impact #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #genshin drabbles #genshin headcanons #scaramouche x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham drabble #alhaitham fanfic #alhaitham fluff #kunikuzushi imagines #scaramouche fanfic #scaramouche fluff

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dazednmatthews · 15 days

Text

neighbor!chris x reader: fight night (part eleven point five)

a/n: surprise!!! everyone say thank you cherrie :p

if someone asked y/n how she was feeling ten seconds ago, her answer would’ve been amazing.

in those last ten seconds however, between the sixth, no seventh.. maybe eighth shot glass her and nick had slammed back down on to the bar top, she had been faced with temptation at its finest.

amber, the same bitch who was the cause of the unwavering heartbreak y/n had been facing for the last two weeks, was standing in the corner of the bar with two other girls. she hadn’t noticed y/n yet, didn’t even know that her ass was five seconds away from kissing the ground.

“i hate how good alcohol tastes after the first four drinks,” nick sighs happily, flagging the bartender down once again and putting two drink orders for him and his friend in.

“mhm.” y/n isn’t listening in the slightest, having an inner tug of war with the angel and devil sat on her shoulders. she wanted to go up and sock the bitch, but she also knew that nothing good could come from that.

“you are so not listening to me. who are we looking at-“ nick, who finally notices his best friend’s aloofness, turns his head. once his eyes connect with the source of y/n’s silent rage, they widen.

“no way that bitch is here right now.” he scoffs, sliding the new drink in front of her.

“i really want to hit that bitch.”

nick hums in agreement for her. “i know you do. but let’s maybe not start a riot in this bar right now.”

and with that, y/n really tries to let it go. she really tries to sip her drink and keep it pushing. but as soon as she’s about to turn away, amber’s eyes meet hers and her face twists into the nastiest look she could muster.

and with that, y/n is whipping her phone out and sending a preliminary text to chris, because she knows how this is about to go.

“oh no, y/n—“ nick starts, but she cuts him off. “stay here.”

nick has only seen her this mad maybe twice, so the ferocity in her tone roots him to his spot. he watches closely and very drunk from afar though, making sure he can see her at all times just in case.

amber turns in her seat, watching y/n approach. the sneer on her face is lethal, and if y/n was anyone else, she might just be afraid.

too bad she’s not.

“amber.” the girl says, trying to keep her rage at bay. “horrible to see you as always.”

“yeah, same to you, y/n.” the way she says the name makes y/n’s blood boil.

it’s quiet for a second. the two girls amber is with are looking nervously from girl to girl with bated breath. everyone in a 5 foot radius can tell this is a hostile situation.

“i heard you had a lot to say to chris about me,” y/n smiles sarcastically. “anything you’d care to share?”

the other girl shrugs. “not really much to say about a slut that thinks it okay to steal another girls boyfriend.”

a laugh forces it’s way out of y/n’s chest. “boyfriend is a bit of an exaggeration don’t you think?” y/n taps her chin, pretending to think. “last i heard, you were a desperate sneaky link that got dumped by someone who gave you a boundary you didn’t like. how sad.”

amber’s mouth drops. “excuse me?”

y/n, against her better judgement, steps forward. “i also heard that i’m supposed be watching my back. for what exactly?” she raises an eyebrow. “i’m right here. what’s gonna happen, amber?”

the taunt makes the girl’s cheeks go red, but she stays silent. so y/n continues to talk her shit. “next time you think you’re big and bad enough to text my man talking shit about me or feel comfortable enough to talk crazy to him, i’ll make you regret it.”

“is that a threat?”

y/n shakes her head. “a promise, actually.”

amber kicks off the wall, ducking her head slightly to get in y/n’s face. “you think you’re cute, huh?” her eyes are gleaming. y/n can feel the anger rising, her vision starting to blur at the edges. she’s on thin ice, she thinks, blowing a breath through her lips. she clenches her fingers around the drink in her hand.

“think you’re some big prize just because chris stopped being a whore long enough to decide you’re more interesting than you’re worth? chris will get bored of you, eventually, just like he always does.” amber’s eyes are frenzied. she looks like she’s about to snap, so naturally, y/n goes for the kill.

while shaking her head, y/n sucks her teeth. “maybe that would’ve bothered me three weeks ago, but things are different now. just like chris told you, me and you are not the same.” y/n sends a deadly smirk her way. “i don’t have to lie about anything to get a boyfriend. i would never have to make up stories about a guy because i couldn’t accept the truth. i would never purposefully try to ruin someone’s happiness because i’m a pathetic, lonely bitch.”

y/n wouldn’t say she’s a fighter exactly. she’s known for her snark and her sass, but she wouldn’t explicitly say that she likes to fight. being so good with her words, she believes that only in extremities do situations need to escalate to being physical.

this is one of those times.

the second the words come out her mouth, amber is launching her drink into y/n’s face. as the liquid settles on her skin and in her hair, she lets out a strangled noise, taking a second to finish the drink in her own hand, vaguely registering her best friends “oh fuck no!”, before she’s swinging her fist so fast, amber has no time to defend herself.

across the room, nick is firing texts to chris at the speed of light, watching in proud admiration as y/n is hurling punches that he doesn’t doubt for a second feel like bricks. he’d been on the receiving end once or twice and that bitch can swing.

he knows his friend is fine, considering amber is only screaming, crying and throwing the weakest hits he’d ever seen. it’s only when he sees a security guard grab y/n a little too aggressively for his liking is he shoving his phone in his pocket and running up to the chaos in front of him.

“get the fuck off of her!”

while all this is happening, chris and matt have parked the car and are somewhat running to the entrance. chris can hear yelling and chairs scraping against the floor and nick’s incessant “fuck you, fuck you, fuck you” chant all the way at the front.

he shoves through the crowd, not listening to a security guard still asking for ID despite the madness.

matt and him exchange a look as they see both nick and y/n in the middle of the scuffle. they separate immediately and despite wanting to laugh a little bit at the sight of his girl absolutely beating the shit out of his old… whatever, he doesn’t.

he grabs y/n by the waist, yanking her back and throwing her over his shoulder, one hand at the bottom of her ass, shielding the hem of her dress from the room.

“what the fu- chris put me down!”

she’s kicking and hitting his back as he makes a beeline for the exit, but his hold only tightens. “no can do, ali.”

y/n only grumbles, not amused by his joke. once they’re all the way back at the car, chris releases her, caging her body between himself and the car.

“stupid fucking bitch. throwing her drink in my fucking face.” her fury is palpable. there’s a few small scratches on her neck, but other than that, she’s basically unscathed. not that he doubted her for a second.

y/n is still angrily rambling while chris runs his hands through her hair, smoothing down her dress as well. when he’s finished, she looks up at him, and he smirks. “got it all out of your system?”

she shakes her head. “i could use another round or two.”

he laughs, bright and full. “i’m sure you could. she definitely can’t though.”

before she can start cursing again, chris cups her face. “have i ever told you that you’re incredibly sexy when you’re mad?”

y/n calms slightly, finally smiling a little. she rolls her eyes shoving his chest. “you think i’m sexy no matter what.”

“guilty.”

he kisses her then, slow and sweet. she melts into him fully, grabbing onto his jacket for support. the moment is tender regardless of the circumstances around it. but then, in all her drunk distractedness, y/n slips her tongue into his mouth and there’s a tangible shift.

not too much can happen, much to chris’ disappointment though, because matt and nick can be heard about ten feet away.

“i don’t give a fuck, matt! i wasn’t just going to let that big bitch grab her like that!”

“i get it nick.” matt says, exasperatedly, “but you literally cannot be going around starting bar brawls.”

“oh well,” nick looks ahead then, noticing his brother and best friend. “y/n! we won that shit so bad.”

y/n laughs, nodding her head. she looks back at chris, who of course is already looking down at her with that special look in his eyes.

“yeah,” she says, secret smile on her lips. “i’m definitely feeling like a winner tonight.”

#chris sturniolo texts #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo texts #nick sturniolo texts #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader #neighbor!chris

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cyberghu0l · 3 months

Text

Sore Loser

you and clarisse are on opposite teams for capture the flag. not only can she not protect you, but she loses to you. and she doesn't take losing lightly.

clarisse la rue × daughter of Apollo!reader

this is the time of year everyone looks forward to.

capture the flag

everyone had their own secret alliances, and each cabin had their own secret techniques. everyone did anything it took to win. every year, chiron divides the cabins into two teams. last year, you stayed faithful to your girlfriend and fought by her side all the way to victory. this year was different.

the list of the two teams was announced during dinner.

"lastly, cabin seven. blue team. same rules apply, i wish each team success for tomorrow's game." he went back to his table and the kids returned to their conversations.

you looked over to clarisse, who was sitting across from you. you could tell she was angry about the teams, but she didn't want to show it.

"clar, are you gonna keep playing with your food or actually eat?" you asked after watching her poke her chicken for 5 minutes straight.

she picked her head up from her palm and looked at you. her lips pursed.

"im not hungry anymore." she got up and tossed her remaining food into the fire and walked away. you sighed and continued eating.

that night after everyone was asleep, you snuck out to the Ares cabin. you peeked through the window just next to clarisse's bed. she was lying down, only staring at the ceiling. you knew she only had trouble sleeping if something was bothering her. you tapped the glass slightly, gaining her attention.

she sat up and looked at you with furrowed brows. you waved for her to come outside. she rolled her eyes, but she couldn't say no to you. she slipped on her shoe, got a sweater, and quietly opened the door. you smiled, seeing her in her pj's and messy bun. some strands of hair falling into her face. she handed you her sweater, which you immediately slipped on.

"c'mon." you took her hand and led her to your spot. it was behind your cabin, deep into the woods. there was a clear area that had perfect view of the lake, stars, and each path just in case someone came.

you sat on the grassy patch, clarisse followed next to you. "i know you're upset about tomorrow." you started. "y/n, i really don't want to get into this." she threw her head back in annoyance.

"clarisse, can you just listen. it's only for a day, and it's just a game. you know i will never lead anyone to you. can you just let it rest?" you put your hand on her thigh, trying to get through to her.

"fine! it just sucks, i don't want you to lose to me." she said. you retracted your hand at her statement. "what's that supposed to mean? you think we can't win?" you questioned her. "no, of course you can, angel. we've just been on a winning streak for two years." she tried hiding her smirk.

you scoffed. "you're unbelievable." you got up, walking back to your cabin. "y/n, seriously? it's like you said it's just a game." she followed you. you ignored her pleads till you got to your cabin. "good night, la rue."

you two always had a rule about never going to bed angry, but you weren't mad at her. you just needed time to think about how to beat her.

the game came quickly. you were standing with your fellow teammates as chiron explained the rooms. you watch clarisse from a distance. admiring her in the sun, wishing you were by her side, but you knew you had to put your feelings aside. the contch blew, and everyone let out a war cry. you were given orders to follow the ones who would take the flag.

you knew clarisse and her half siblings would be guarding, but this made Annabeth use you a deploy.

"okay, here's what's gonna happen. we're gonna spilt up. y/n, take the front where clarisse is guarding. you already what to do. try not to make it ugly." you nodded at luke's plan. he told everyone else their positions, now it was time to execute it.

you walked up to the holding area. you were instantly met with the Ares siblings holding their swords out at you.

"listen, im just here to talk okay. you guys can go back to guarding, i just wanna talk to clarisse." you spoke with your hands up.

she raised a brow, unamused, but let you proceed. the rest went back to their positions.

"did you come to distract me or talk about last night." she asked bluntly. "last night, and if you may know, annabeth doesn't even know im here." she smirked.

"you know i actually am sorry, okay? for last night. it just came out wrong, and i didn't think you'd react like that." she looked at you with pleading eyes. "thank you. and you know this is really weird for me too. i like being here with you." You hit her lightly, earning a chuckle from the brunette.

she began talking again, but you found yourself zoning out behind her. you saw each of her siblings being taken out by the group you were sent with.

classic sneak attack, so luke

"uh huh." you replied to whatever she was saying as you watched luke take the flag from the pole.

"so you think the camp should burn down?" she said, snapping your thoughts back to her. she turned to look at what you were staring at. you had failed to turn her head back to you. "no! luke!" she cried. she turned back to you with a look of disgust.

"clar, don't!" you grabbed her armor, buying luke sometime to run.

you took out your sword

"don't make me do this." you said taking your stance in the dirt. "you chose suicide." she pointed her blade at you, charging to you.

you knew all her moves like the back of your hand. you knocked her foot, making her lose her balance and falling to the floor. she had given up just as you had her blade under your foot and yours pointing at her.

her chest rised and fell with huffs of her breaths. "im sorry." you said before taking off to your territory.

you had made it right in to celebrate with your team mates.

the next couple of days were unbearable. clarisse was going out of her way to ignore you. her half siblings included. it tore you apart knowing it was all because of a game.

one day, you had enough and went to her cabin to confront her. she always took some time after sparring to bandage up and you knew she'd be alone. "are you gonna keep ignoring me like a sore loser or let me bask in my glory?" you asked as you leaned against her bunk bed.

no response

"clar, im being serious. you're killing me. i thought you would've been happier for me, after all i did learn from you."

"i didn't teach you to be conniving." she said sternly while putting ointment on her arm.

"i was just doing what i had to do to win. you taught me that." she exhaled and looked ahead.

"i gotta admit. you looked fucking gorgeous sparring with me." she looked at you with a smile. you returned the gesture and took her hand in yours. she held it up to her lips and kissed your knuckles gently.

"im sorry, angel. " she said sweetly.

"im sorry, too." you spoke softly.

guys are my stories beginning to be too long? i feel like they are but series are lame in my opinion:/ i only rlly do them if i have ideas to continue the story but tell me what yall think

#black reader #lgbtq #black y/n #pjo fluff #clarisse x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x fem!reader #pjo tv show #pjo #pjo series #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians

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fablepaint · 6 months

Note

I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask anything here, but I wanted to know something. How is it like being a director of an animation? What’s your ideology when it comes to directing?

Messages anytime all the time

caffeinecaffeinecaffeine

body exhausted, enforces its own breaks

hard to go out, ever

STRESSSSS

MAAATHHH

wheredidmybraingo?

*smashed body part* thatll heal up finnnne. i dont have time for doctor!

ohgoddontfuckitup dontbeTHATguy ohfuckohshit

i love my partner i cant believe he puts up with this

hug every pet. theyre my emotional sponges.

manic creative spurts followed by sheepish anxiety.

PaPERWORK

hurry up and wait, times a thousand.

hope you like data sheets!

delegateDAMMIT

And thats when it's running smoothly!

otherwise my approach is to try and reflect the best examples of leadership and guidance IRL ive experienced. Mostly, from quality college professors Ive known. Tom Sito in particular exemplified a lot of what i strive to be. He was also formerly guild president and i think teaching your crew to view themselves as a collective that supports each other is vital to ensuring not just that they work together well, but also should anyone try to take advantage of them, they'll curbstomp them. I want them to be capable even in my absence, beyond the project, and able to run their own projects competently in the future.

i should be the one who guides and educates people into giving what's needed for the shot. Pain and blood are unwanted elements in that recipe. Theyre distractions and energysappers, red flags of a problem not a badge of honor.

Ideally, i barely have to do more than gently steer the work. And if ive communicated what im looking for effectively, theyre all plenty good at doing the work without me hovering over them.

if the work needs more guidance than that, then i roll up my sleeves and dive in as well. And figure out what the problem was, log it, and let that educate everyone else too (good documentation is essential).

i try to exhaust every option i have before blaming the person working on it for all the issues. Sometimes that is the problem, but even then i need to approach it neutrally and ask what human solution is required then. Do they need a break? was this not the right shot for them? is their way of processing the communication different than i expected? is there a translation problem?

in which case give people space to figure out some of that without judgement. Sometimes that means leaving for a bit, or permanently. But dont chase them. Just let them have their own life.

The only things i cant abide by are lack of communication that results in putting stress on the rest of the team. Consistent lying about availability and ball dropping despite constant outreach means someone has to pick up the slack without enough time or energy stocked up to take on the extra work. Anything that ends up exacerbating stress makes me upset.

But even then, it's still my job to spot the signs of this and make necessary adjustments before it becomes a problem. Including identifying where I made a miscalculation in hiring.

The buck always ALWAYS stops with me. I have the power to adjust the system to make it better, which means i gotta have a good grasp on that system.

#lackadaisy #life #question #answer

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nuka · 2 months

Text

Call me delulu, but I woke up with hope in my heart today.

It's only been 2 months since the show was cancelled. WBD is run by an incompetent fool. WBD previously said they'd sell Coyote vs. Acme, but then made it impossible for anyone to buy it. All streaming services are struggling financially at the moment.

Daddy Jenkins had to tell us we've reached the end of the road, because that's the reality right now. Either WBD made it impossible for anyone to buy the show, or the actual realistic price was just too high for other streamers at the moment even if they wanted to buy it. “Many complimentary meetings, conversations, etc” sounds like someone was interested.

DJ and everyone else who worked on the show need to be able to move on, so they can make a living from other projects. They’ve all been holding their breath just in case they can start filming after all. The fans need to move on in the sense that we can't expect a renewal "any day now", like we did for 2 months. We can still hope that we'll see season 3 one day, but now we can be realistic about the chances of it happening in the immediate future.

Everyone who worked on this show has loved it so dearly that I'm certain that if season 3 gets greenlit in the future, they'll all want to work on it again. As long as DJ is in, the others are too. The Revenge can be rebuilt. The time that has passed can be explained in the story, if it needs explaining at all. If some actors won't be able to return, we'll get new characters added to our family, and we'll embrace them just like we embraced all the new characters in season 2.

Depending on what the problem for the pick up was, things might change very quickly, or they might take a few years. Who knows, if we continue being loud, a streaming service that quickly passed on the show in January might take interest in it later. A streaming service that offered too little might make a better offer, and WBD might accept just to get rid of us (because we're back to calling Max out on this bullshit and it's not a good look for them). Or, once the industry recovers a bit, a streaming service might be willing to reconsider spending a big amount of money on this show. And if WBD set an impossible price for the show this time, they might shop it around for a more reasonable price once Zaslav is out (or even greenlight season 3 themselves, but that’s delulu level 200). Even if we don't get a season 3, we might still get a movie, or a comic book, or a script book, or a blu-ray release, or the Jenkins Cut. And honestly, if someone was to announce they've picked up the show in a year or two... that's not a long time at all.

Pirate Daddy said that our campaign was noticed across the industry. They hear and see our love for this show. They know we're here for the show if it's ever to return. They know this show has potential.

So let’s keep having fun in the fandom. Keep being loud about Our Flag Means Death. Keep using the hashtags. Keep making fanart. Keep shouting about how unfair this cancellation was. We don’t have to do it with the same intensity as during the campaign (I know we’re all tired and it’s completely okay to step away if you need/want to), but as long as we as a fandom are consistent, they’ll see there’s a demand that just won’t go away.

There is always hope. It’s not the same kind of hope we had before January 9th, and it’s not the kind we had until March 7th. But there are so many variables, and so little time has passed. Who knows what the industry will look like in a year or two. I’d rather believe in a future that might just hold a pleasant surprise for us than throw in the towel completely.

#ofmd #our flag means death #long live ofmd #save ofmd #adopt our crew #our flag bbc #renew as a crew

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joannechocolat · 19 days

Text

Content Warning: contains scenes of graphic kindness; wokery; tolerance; profanity.

A few days ago, I posted a little Twitter poll, asking readers (and authors) what they thought of trigger warnings. I followed this up with a short thread, outlining my own thoughts on this, and how they have changed over the years.

The Daily Mail immediately seized the idea, and without contacting me, or asking for further clarification, published an article quoting my words, under a headline that was both inflammatory and untrue: Trigger warnings should be put on EVERY book to make readers feel 'safe', Chocolat author Joanne Harris says.

Predictably, this caused a frenzy of reaction from Daily Mail readers and Twitter trolls, including accusations of censorship and “pandering to moronic snowflakes”. Several people (who I suspect, have never even picked up one of my books) swore never to read them. One charmer wrote: “Fucking pathetic. What a dick the author must be.”

I don’t blame the writer of the article; most clickbait headlines are added by someone else - in this case, by someone who couldn’t even be bothered to read the article, let alone my original thread. It has since been quietly changed, presumably in response to my comments, although once again, without any communication with me. But as a result of these comments (and some more polite ones from people asking about the poll), I think it’s time I made it clear, both where I stand on trigger warnings, and why the public perception of them, fuelled by culture wars debates, is both skewed and inaccurate.

First, the result of my poll: about 35% of the people who answered were in favour of some kind of content warning. About 30% were against, and the rest were undecided, curious about the result. To me this suggests that most people are generally positive or undecided on the subject. From the comments, it seemed to me that many of the people who were against trigger warnings were afraid they might lead to censorship, or spoilers, or editing of the classics, or stopping people from reading the classics, or authors losing the right to free speech.

But here's the thing. Trigger warnings are nothing to do with those things. Here’s why people have been misled, and why it matters to put things straight.

First, this expression; “triggered.” Like “woke” and “snowflake” it has been weaponized to mean something like “upsetting the libs.” Reader, that's not what it means. The concept of triggering only applies to someone with PTSD or some kind of serious psychological trauma. That makes it irrelevant to politics. Anyone can have trauma. Anyone is potentially vulnerable to mental illness. And that’s why trigger warnings exist; to warn people who might suffer a relapse, or some other kind of serious harm, if exposed without warning to certain images, scenes or narrative strands. Some of the obvious ones might be sexual violence; graphic images; mental illness; eating disorders; suicide. I’m sure there are lots more. But we’ve had content warnings (if you prefer) on films for decades without any resistance, and TV shows routinely flag up scenes with flashing images, etc. that might trigger (that word again) an epileptic seizure in anyone susceptible.

And yes, it makes sense. I mean, why would you want someone to have a seizure if you could just warn them against it? Who but a sadist would argue that people with epilepsy should be forced to have seizures, or that having regular seizures will make them more resilient somehow, or that people afraid to have seizures should just stop watching films and TV altogether, or that warnings against flashing lights would somehow spoil other people’s enjoyment of the show? And yet those are all things that people have said to me recently about content warnings.

To me content warnings in books are like content warnings on packaged food. Most people don’t read them, unless they have a special interest or need to know. Why do they need to know? There might be any number of reasons. Maybe they’re vegan, and want to avoid eating animal products. Maybe they have a religious dietary restriction. Maybe they have a mild allergy to peanuts or to shellfish. Or maybe it’s a more a serious allergy that could even result in their death. Either way, details are useful. Content warnings in books are the same, except that instead of triggering a physical attack, certain things trigger a mental one.

I'm not talking here about things that might simply cause offence. I sometimes use profanity in my books; I sometimes write about topics that people may find challenging. That's not going to change. I won't add content warnings for swearing, or nudity, or paganism, or LGBT issues. None of those things cause trauma, though I'm willing to believe they may in some cases cause offence.

But mental trauma is just as real as any physical injury. It’s not just “in your head”. It requires adjustments in the same way that any other condition may require adjustments - whether that's a wheelchair ramp, or subtitles on TV, or studs on the pavement to help the blind.

And yet, the culture wars narrative – led by a right-wing media - is leaning increasingly towards a “survival of the fittest” mentality; repeatedly encouraging able-bodied people to question disability, white people to question racism, rich people to question poverty, and urging those who have never experienced mental trauma to dismiss the needs of those who struggle with it daily. Empathy and kindness are presented as political gestures, earning “woke points” (whatever they are), rather than the elements of basic human decency. And of course, people who talk about “decency” in the context of nudity, LGBT issues and profanity often see no problem in labelling themselves “anti-woke”, or sneering at the “Be Kind brigade”, or making dismissive judgments about the lives of people they will never know. Somewhere along the line, somehow, basic human kindness has been reframed as a tool of the left, and those who hold right-wing opinions are encouraged to reject it.

Well, fuck that. People are better than this. Some people need content warnings, and it’s not up to you or me to decide whether their need is valid or not. That’s why, from now on, I’ll be adding including content warnings to my books, and to my author website. Ignore them or not, as you choose.

But to those who are offended by the concept of inclusion, here’s a trigger warning just for you: Contains tolerance; scenes of moderate kindness; depictions of graphic wokery. Read my books at your peril. Or don’t. Isn’t freedom marvellous?

#writing #trigger warnings

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mossbone · 9 months

Text

The recent Dracula Daily updates are interesting to me. This book is infamous for being about the vampiric Horrors, as defined by their sexual immorality and hedonism; unlike our Heroes who are proper and British and christian. And yet...here we see the horrors being compounded and enabled by the rigid social structures emphasizing morality. And for all Bram Stoker's biases, I think that was intentional.

Firstly, the horror is compounded by the Need for Propriety. Lucy is sleepwalking, in nothing but her nightgown! How awful! So awful it is unthinkable as an option to Mina until she sees undeniable proof Lucy left the house. When that is proven true, "ever growing fear chilling my heart" Mina feels turns to "a vague, overmastering fear obscured all details." She then runs through the streets and finally turns to the cliffs, not fearing like Lucy's mother, to see her in danger of falling of the cliffs, but simply fearing to see her safe in their favorite seat—exposed to all the town.

She in fact sees in shadowy detail, an unidentified man leaning over Lucy. Yet..the whole update is strewn with Mina's massive and unfortunately justified fear for her friend's reputation, maybe more than her safety. Did someone take advantage of Lucy, enact some violence or violation of her while she was sleepwalking? Irrelevant, compared to the question: will anyone see them and assume they were up to some promiscuity? After all, she can't help but be "thinking how the story would become distorted—nay, infallibly would—in case it should leak out." There is the psychological horror on top of the nights events, which were traumatic enough.

An indictment of the present state of late Victorian values and their strict judgments already. But then. The consequence of our young heroines being unable to share their story is that Dracula continues to work unnoticed. He will get more victims, he will continue to grow in power and terrorize Lucy and whomever else he wants. Just like Jonathan being trapped in an increasingly abusive work contract because he feels he must stay to the strict matters of politeness [an imbalance of power that work relationships had then and continue to fucking have], here Lucy and Mina are trapped in very clear physical danger because they cannot share the predator hunting them without surely being accused of being a liar and a whore.

Of course, the loved ones of our protagonists are not of that malicious nature at all. If only they could talk to each other freely, Jonathan and Arthur and Lucy's other suitors would obviously not blame her. And Mina, or likely anyone, would help Jonathan recognize the red flags as what they were. But such close communication is impossible given the heavy expectations of the day.

Social standards were very bad and restrictive in 1897, and I think Bram Stoker consistently criticizes how they are with his novel, even while it serves as a cautionary tale against immorality. The solution to sexual abuse and immorality, in his words, is not punishing people for suffering from them or talking about them. I think he is saying this masterfully, as well, by allowing the audience to feel the visceral fear and helplessness through the perspective of the narrators so closely. Unlike many novels of the time which had people near the protagonist serve as cautionary tales and indictments of society, he forces the reader into those shoes through intimate first person narration.

Anyway. Good chapters, huh. Sadly still relevant.

#dracula daily #dracula spoilers #dracula #jonathan harker #mina murray #lucy westenra #dracula daily spoilers

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whosyuno · 10 months

Text

hotel paradise (m) | ft. jung jaehyun

summary you visit an exclusive brothel to satisfy your needs. cw smut, praise, humiliation, toy play, light choking, squirting word count 3.1k a/n i'm thinking of turning this into a smut series featuring different members of nct hehe! chap two three

It’s only when you’ve spent half the night burrowing your vibrator between your thighs and it decided to die right before you’ve reached your climax, that you decided to take up your colleague’s suggestion.

Fresh out of a break-up, you had moved to Seoul a few months back. The money here was better anyways and you wanted to forget all about your ex. All your highschool friends that had moved to Seoul always talked about how Seoul was the It-Place. Where the people were wild and parties were wilder. You thought you were finally going to find people that brought the much needed excitement and thrill you desired, particularly in your bedroom. Your ex-boyfriend, although your highschool sweetheart, wasn’t the best in bed and most of his attempts had left you feeling unsatisfied and yearning for more… fun.

Of course, nothing ever turned out the way you wanted and, now, six months into your stay in Seoul, you’ve never had anyone approach you, much less touch you. But when one of your colleagues-turned-friends caught wind of your little situation, she had casually introduced you to “just the place to get your needs sorted”.

So that’s how, at 2:38AM on a Saturday, you found yourself standing before an unassuming building, its exterior the same dark maroon bricks as the surrounding buildings with a panel of frosted glass doors facing you. The light from within shone into the street, illuminating the empty night, if not for the lingering drunkards from the parties before.

You glanced down at your phone, at an invitation message, as you took a moment to steel your resolve. You tried to push out the thoughts of doubt out of your head. In any case, if Hotel Paradise was exclusive enough to require an invitation by an existing member, then that must be a green flag, right?

You were immediately greeted by a bleach-blond haired lady when you walked through the doors. She looked neat and tidy, which calmed your anxieties about this being a sketchy brothel just a little.

“Welcome to Hotel Paradise, I’m Taeyeon, what can I do for you?” she said, with a perfected customer service smile.

You showed her your invitation message, and she made quick work in creating a membership for you in the system.

“Any requests for tonight?” she asked and gestured towards the plaques in front of you.

Your cheeks were quick to turn pink at her direct question. You glanced over at the plaques on the surface of the reception desk. Laminated behind plastic, they detailed a list of 20 boys, with photos and a short list of their strengths. Amidst your fluster, you quickly pointed at the first one that caught your attention. Jung Jaehyun, Toy Play, Praise and Humiliation.

“Okay,” she said as her freshly manicured fingers ran across her keyboard, “looks like he’s free currently. Is there anything else you’d like?”

You shook your head, mortified to share any more of your kinks with a stranger - kinks that you didn’t even share with your ex.

It took a moment before Taeyeon motioned you to go up the spiral stairs behind the counter. Second room to your left, she mentioned. You swallowed your saliva, before walking into the room.

The room was quite spacious, with egg-white paint coating the walls, a neatly made king-sized bed in the middle and a decent bathroom attached. If it wasn't for the row of sex toys placed on the table at the foot of the bed, you could have fooled anyone into thinking it was a room in any respectable hotel.

“My, my, what a lovely guest,” the man in the middle of the room came to greet you.

Immediately, you were captivated by his looks. You had picked him, for the most part, due to his photo. But looking at him in person was a whole other experience. His fluffy brown hair was carelessly tossed backwards with a few stray strands perfectly framing his face. His almond-shaped eyes were pressed into crescents and only god knew how hard you’d fall for his dazzling smile.

His hands reached over and removed the little shoulder bag that you had brought with you. And in a smooth motion, his arm slipped around your waist as he guided you to sit on the bed. It was only now, sitting in front of Jaehyun, that you’d wished you had spent just a little more time in choosing a more appropriate outfit. In a rush to satisfy your needs and to save on laundry efforts, you had put on your office wear - a neat powder blue blouse tucked into wide legged black trousers - the same one that had worn to the office on Friday.

“Busy day, huh?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear before resting his hand on your jawline.

You nodded; your cheeks flushed against his warm touch. Your attention was entirely drawn in by him and his effortless charm.

“I’ll reward you for working hard,” he said before gently kissing you.

His lips, soft and plump, pressed against yours softly, as if testing out the waters. Once, then twice. And another. When your arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him closer, his tongue skillfully parted your lips and darted into your mouth. He tasted like cool mint, and you caught a whiff of his sandalwood cologne. The intensity and fervour of the kiss only increased with each passing moment. Lust ignited a flame within you that spread across your body.

He used his body weight and pushed you down on the bed, with one knee between your legs to balance. His hand wandered around your body, caressing your breast, your waist and your butt before his fingers made quick work of your pants’ button and zipper. He slid the trousers off and, with a little kick from you, threw the pants across the room.

His lips then left yours for a moment, and it drew out a whine that you had never heard yourself make. It pleased him to hear your voice. You watched as a simple make out transformed the sweet and charming man into a lustful one. His once inviting smile morphed into a thirsty smirk, his lips were swollen, and his eyes burned with desire.

He left the bed for a moment, picking up your trousers and a small vibrator from the table before returning to you. He used the trousers as a makeshift rope to tie both your wrists to the bedpost and before dropping down between your legs.

“You look so pretty from down here,” he said as he placed the small vibrator against your clothed clit.

He moved it up and down, along your slit, taking in your moans of pleasure. He watched your every effort to push yourself closer to climax: how you’d buck your hips when the vibe hitted the right spot, how your moans got louder and less restrained and how your hands struggled against the bedpost.

“Please, please, please,” you cried out, “please let me cum- oh my god, I’m so close.”

Everything you did only pleased him further.

“You’re such a little slut, aren’t you?” He slid the vibrator away from your clit, “Already cumming for a stranger you’ve barely met?”

Your hips bucked and adjusted, hoping to feel the vibrator again, “Please, please.”

You whined and moaned but all he did was watch. His control was immaculate, he’d place the vibrator against your clit and just as you were about to cum, he’d take it off. Then he did it again. And again.

“Say it,” he said, “Let me hear it. What are you?”

A blush of mortification coloured your cheeks, no one had ever called you a slut.

“I’m…” You struggled to get the words out.

Jaehyun punished your hesitation by pushing the vibrator against your clit again.

You whined and were reminded of the reward at the end of the sentence, “I’m a slut. I’m a slut just for you.”

Pleased with your words and your desperation, Jaehyun finally let you cum, “That’s right, cum for me, slut. You’re such a good slut for me.”

He watched as the ecstasy ebbed through your body, your hips bucking high before crashing down against the bed, your fingers digging into your palms and your lips carelessly spewing out ‘thank you’s and ‘oh my god’s.

“That felt good, right?”

You nodded, albeit a little tired from that singular orgasm. It’s not an exaggeration to say that no one had made you feel the way his touch did. Forcing you to brand yourself as a slut sparked a new thrill for yourself. Everything he did only drew you into his lust-driven heaven.

He let you rest for a brief moment, as he swapped out the small vibrator for a vibrating dildo this time.

Watching Jaehyun put the dildo in his hands, you perked up with more energy.

By now, your cotton panties had been drenched in your juices. So, Jaehyun slipped them off to reveal your pussy. It’s been awhile since you’ve shaved, it wasn’t like you had anyone to show them to. This was an impromptu decision you had made. You immediately shut your legs up together, hiding them in embarrassment.

Jaehyun responded by softly prying your legs open, “no need for shyness now, kitten.”

His words were charming and comforting, which gave you just that little boost of confidence that you had needed. You opened your legs again.

This time, a newfound hunger engulfed Jaehyun at the sight of your glistening core.

He was quick to abandon his initial plan, lowering himself between your legs before burying himself into your thighs. Like a parched lion, his tongue was quick to lap up your juices.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he mumbled against your core, the vibration created a new sensation and drew out a soft mewl from you.

His tongue moved skillfully, each motion methodical and purposeful. He alternated between licking up and down your wet heat and swirling his tongue around your swollen clit. Either way, your head was dizzy with arousal. Your hips grinded against his face, searching for another release. Explicit words mixed with his name and your pleas carelessly tumbled out of your lips. Try as you might, you could barely contain your voice.

You hadn’t noticed it, but in the midst of your pleasure, Jaehyun had managed to push a singular finger into your core. His initial finger worked slower than his mouth, it’s only when a second finger thrusted into you that you felt him. The new sensation added to the maddening haze.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whined, your body stiffening in anticipation.

“Cum,” his command was firm, “cum for me, my pretty little slut.”

The release was instantaneous, arousal flooded your system and your entire body quaked with pleasure. You almost saw white with that release. Your body heaved with a singular motion, crashing down into the bed. But Jaehyun didn’t let you rest; he was quick to replace his fingers with the vibrating dildo that he had chosen previously. A gasp escaped your lips, feeling yourself stretch around the foreign object. He turned it out and began pumping it into you. He ignored your pleas, revelling in the dishevelled sight of you. Office drone turned into a moaning mess. A twisted pleasure coursed through your body, a tinge of pain from sensitivity mixed with the dildo drilling into your g-spot. You begged him to stop, he didn’t. Your body buckled under the overstimulation; you were sure you were going to die if he didn’t stop.

You caught a glimpse of his wicked smirk, taking pride in his work.

Then, you fell from the cusp of your pleasure. A stream of clear liquid squirted from between your legs and onto Jaehyun’s face. Your eyes widened when you came to it, the first time that you had ever squirted. The pink flush on your cheeks reddened with more embarrassment. But before you had the time to apologise and explain that you didn’t intend on squirting all over him, he spoke first.

“Look at you, squirting all over me,” Jaehyun said, discarding the dildo, “I barely did anything, you know.”

His velvety voice sent shivers down your spine. Your humiliation grew under the weight of his words, and the truth of the situation. He was a stranger that you’ve barely met, and here you were cumming so easily at his every touch. His eyes, filled with great desire, burned into yours, and that thrill you felt under his gaze only further cemented the truth. You were acting like a complete slut for him.

You watched as he removed his jeans, then boxers. The sight of his member had your mouth salivating over it. You didn’t know you were such a slut. You could feel the growing heat between your legs as your mind conjured up images of his dick drilling into you. A foreign desire to just let him devour you arose. A strange impatience took over your mind whilst watching him slip on a condom.

“Why?” he crawled back on the bed, hovering over your body, “Like what you see?”

He didn’t wait for your reply, instead choosing to immediately thrust into you. A loud gasp escaped your throat. He felt bigger than you’d imagined. You were sure that he would split your body in half if he was any bigger and was grateful that he gave you a moment to adjust to his size.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. He adjusted himself, with one hand holding on to the bedframe for balance, and the other rested around your neck.

“Stop giving me such erotic looks, whore,” a twisted grin spread across his handsome face, “it only makes me want to mess you up even more.”

His hips moved with practiced ease, each thrust deep and impactful and drew out loud gasps from you. He started rocking his hips quicker and sloppier, his hand tightening along the sides of your neck. You’ve never been choked before, but that new stimulation drove you crazy. The slight almost-drunk dizziness from the asphyxiation only intensified every one of Jaehyun’s thrust.

“Oh?” he panted out with amusement, “You like getting choked, don’t you?”

He watched as your eyes rolled back and how your face scrunched with pleasure under his touch. The constant stream of melody that was your voice devolved from words and pleas into incoherent mewls and moans.

“You’re squeezing me so tight. Expected nothing less from my favourite slut.”

His hips moved with increasing impatience, as the both of you chased the highs of an orgasm. His grip on your neck only tightened, drawing small crescents into your skin. He grunted and groaned with less of the control he seemed to have.

“You look so fucking beautiful,” he said and you doubted, with what little sanity remained within you.

Your hair was completely messed up, from your constant squirming. The baby hair along your hairline had been stuck on your face with your sweat. You’re pretty certain your make-up - just a touch of eyeliner and nude lipstick - had all been smudged by sweat and tears. If anything, you’re sure you looked like a messed-up whore.

Still, Jaehyun leaned down and connected your lips with fervour. His warm tongue darted quickly between your lips and danced with yours, sucking and twirling your tongue. His thrusts didn’t slow down, and instead continuously rammed into your sweet little spot.

At this moment, you were completely intoxicated by his touches. He studied you well though, knowing that you were on the edge of your orgasm.

“Aw, are you about to cum?” he said with mocking sympathy, “You’re gonna cum on a stranger’s dick?”

You felt your ears turn red at his questions. The shame and guilt all twisting into a strange pleasure. You weren’t used to this, but you craved it more.

“I’ll allow it,” he said, “you look so pretty cumming. Cum for me, slut.”

There’s a disconnect between his words, a sort-of whiplash. One moment he called you pretty, another he was completely condescending. And yet, you liked it. You liked being his little slut. You liked looking pretty for him. And most of all, you liked obeying him.

That desire to obey, however, fell short of Jaehyun’s expectations. A twisted anger filling his eyes as his hand punished your neck with an even tighter grip - you were barely gasping for air at this point.

“I said, cum for me,” he growled before spitting in your face.

The warm spit against your cheek swirled with the hypnotising haze of being choked and gave you the push you need to slip into a mindblowing orgasm. Your entire body spasmed in pleasure as desperate moans left your lips. Your toes curled tight, and your fingers scratched the bedpost. The orgasm lasted a solid a few seconds, but the waves of oxytocin still washed over you as you basked in the afterglow, serving as minor orgasms.

But Jaehyun wasn’t a man of patience, especially not when you laid under him, completely writhing with pleasure with a look of complete daze. Your still-spasming core squeezed his dick tight and coupled with a few sloppy thrusts were enough to send him into an orgasm as well.

He moaned and stiffened, his orgasm translated into deep and impactful thrusts as he rode out his orgasm. Your body was at a complete subservience to his orgasm, with Jaehyun not caring about your verbal protests from the overstimulation nor the way your hips and legs were shaking.

It took him a few moments, before he came crashing down on the bed next to you panting. The lust-driven demon seemed to disappear at an instance as a sweet smile replaced his previous smirk.

“Satisfied?”

You nodded shyly. He helped you out of the makeshift knot, finally freeing you. Your wrists were left with red marks, to which he apologised with a dimpled smile.

“It’s fine,” you assured him, “I… liked it.”

After all, your wrists would be evidence of this experience.

Later on, he was quick to attend to your every need - bringing you water, tissues to clean up, and a fresh set of bathrobes - and insisted that you sleep in the room, at least until the sun was up, promising to not touch you unless you wanted him to. You almost let yourself be deluded into thinking that this was anything but professionalism from a staff of Hotel Paradise.

In the morning, before you left for home, Jaehyun parted with words that would haunt you for the week to come.

“I hope to see you again. I really do.”

#jaehyun smut #jaehyun #nct smut #nct #mine

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usedpidemo · 11 months

Text

Bias wrecked (Le sserafim Chaewon)

There are cameras everywhere, but they don’t really care about you.

You’re in front of a room filled with thousands in attendance, but most of them don’t care about you. And the very few that are actually there for you—you certainly couldn’t tell apart when they’re all the way at the back.

The audience erupts in cheers, but they’re not meant for you.

It’s fine. Nothing new, really. You’ve learned to liken the noise to artificial, pre-recorded cheers, the ones you’ve been listening to for the last couple of years. Perhaps the day will come when these people will be screaming your name, but the chances are as low as you being on that stage to begin with.

The winners say their little thanks of appreciation to the fans, delivered with concise and flawless execution, as if it had already been decided beforehand. Knowing the other nominee’s absence, it likely seems to be the case. Then again, this is already their 15th music show win after debuting a little over a year ago. On the other hand, your group debuted right at the same time they made their comeback. It would be considered reckless, downright stupid in the hands of a relatively larger company, but this is some fresh start-up with you and your members as their first experiment. You gain fans, and the sales are surprisingly decent for a new boy group from a completely unknown label, but otherwise, you’re another name that has Nugu Promoter labeled all over it.

It’s a volatile profession where only the rich get richer. You don’t even know if you’ll even make it past the end of the year. Any hopes of public attention, let alone a music show win is basically blind optimism at this point.

While your peers around you will continue with their promotions, this is your last one. Two weeks for a newly debuted group sounds sacrilegious, but money is a scarcity. Using recycled outfits for the last two shows should have been a dead giveaway, a glaring red flag, that you’re in deep waters, but nobody cares.

Really, no one does. Ask anyone in that room and they’ll probably think you never actually existed.

You’re smiling, acting as if the dozens of cameras are pointed right at you, but in reality, you’re just empty space.

You’re just happy to be there.

So when the encore plays, everyone leaves the stage, and after you exchange courtesy bows with the seniors that go overlooked in favor of their more recognizable peers, the heavy weight of being an idol is removed. Your lips loosen up, your eyes rapidly blink; one by one, you’re peeling off the mask, the persona that is required of any performer. All at once, a million things spring to mind. The members, the fans, the company, your future—it’s all things you have to worry about. It’s wise not to think about any of it, but you can’t help but wonder if you were better off not chasing your dreams if you knew this was where you’d end up.

Still, it does have some rewards.

Even though the cameras catch you in the act, and it’s broadcasted out for everyone to see, you’ve been peeking at the women beside you. That’s one benefit of being a nobody; there’s no public outrage or melodramatic outcry, and the few that notice play it off as some kind of inside joke. Anyone else in your position would facing the prospect of career suicide. It’s still unbelievable that the same idols you’ve watched and inspired you to pursue that dream are at an arm’s reach. Competitive releases be damned, you’d happily go unnoticed if it meant you’d end up next to some of the hottest idols right now.

Passing along a few hallways to your dressing room, you’re reminded of another blessing: that you don’t have to waste five minutes of your time doing superfluous Tiktok challenges. There’s a pair of guys that barely know each other performing some point choreo they clearly googled on the spot, and you can evidently discern by their deadpan expressions that they don’t want any part of it. Of course, it’d be hypocritical for you to say you’re better—you’ve been forced into it—but it serves as a cue to hurry up before you get dragged along too.

Regrouping with your members at your dressing room, they’re slumped back on the lone couch, completely drained of their energy. They’ve been in performance mode since dawn. Better for the group’s overall health that there’s nothing else after this, but worse for your overall popularity. You need to get out there more, but that’s beyond what your company can provide.

“Great job everyone,” says your leader, peppy as he’s always been, but the members don’t reciprocate his energy. It’s deflating from every angle. His attitude mirrors yours: blindly optimistic about the group’s potential success. However, you recognize the reality of the situation. You feel bad. “We all deserve a rest after that.”

Sure enough, they’re right ahead of him, proven by the loud snores that fill the room. Another demoralizing response. It’s painful and awkward to watch. His efforts to uplift the team are completely genuine, only to be met with such lackluster reception. It’s the story of the promotions so far: trying your damned hardest, performing as if your lives are on the line, only to come up short of what you’ve worked hard for and looking defeated when you head backstage.

This is the price of being sold a plastic dream. This isn’t your first rodeo, either. You started from a relatively big company, put yourself out there when survival programs came knocking at your door, but it ultimately led to nothing. The label must have seen the writing on the wall when they dropped you after you were eliminated on the first evaluation. It’s cold, it’s callous, but it’s ultimately business, nothing personal. You probably should have seen the signs too, but your stubbornness has you believing in miracles. Hey, it worked out for a few forgotten names before. Anything is possible.

Suddenly, a manager walks into the room, phone in hand. Right. There’s a scheduled livestream for your fans in less than an hour. None of you get access to your phones until you reach 50,000 album sales, chart in the top 100, or win a music show—none of which seem likely to happen at this rate. He gives the phone to your leader and tells him to get everyone ready before promptly leaving again.

“Excuse me, I’ll just go and clean up. I won’t be long,” you say gently to your senior, who simply waves you off and allows you to leave.

—————

The SBS building isn’t a huge one, at least compared to the KBS building, but you might as well appreciate every moment you’re lost inside it. You don’t know when you’ll ever step foot inside its corridors again, if ever.

So, when you happen to walk past a room you have no business being close to and cross paths with an idol, it must be fate. The dream isn’t dead—for now.

“Hey!” Her little voice suddenly snaps you from your wandering mind.

You impulsively bow, completely taken by surprise. “Oh! I’m sorry—wait!”

After a brief exchange of formalities, she meets your eyes with a familiar smile. “Yes?”

You swear you’ve never felt your heart beat out of your chest this rapidly, yet the feeling is only starting to sink in. A reminder that you’re still carrying those innocent dreams with you.

“Chaewon!” You shout her name out so loud it’s practically demanding attention. Both your hands cover your mouth almost immediately. It’s laughable how painfully obvious your excitement is upon being recognized—and who wouldn’t be? She giggles and smiles widely back, and you forget you’re also an idol like her—not some fanboy who only sees her occasionally behind a screen. A less successful, less recognizable one, but still an idol.

“Oh? You look kinda familiar.” Chaewon raises an eyebrow, inches her warm face a bit closer. She scans you as if you’ve got something that ticks. And as if that wasn’t enough of a validation, she adds, “I don’t remember what group you’re from, but you look cool.”

“Um—well thank you, that means a lot.” Whether she meant it or not, the way you helplessly stumble through your words says it all. Knowing her schedule, her success, and everything else in between, you’re probably the least of her concern.

Her eyes suddenly sparkle; the pieces are starting to come together. “Of course! I remember now!” Her hands are folded together, her tone earnest and respectful, even though you’re supposed to be a nobody. No wonder she’s one of your biases and one of your inspirations in pursuing an idol career. Even though you’ve shared the stage a handful of times already, this feels like the peak of your existence, and it’s all downhill from here. “We watched your performance while waiting. You were great!”

This is too much to digest. You’re supposed to be back in your own dressing room by now, but here you are, consumed by your love and admiration for an idol being reciprocated back to you. You find yourself unable to move the conversation forward, let alone end it. Forget that her members are on the other side of that door, probably overhearing the conversation. They’ve got new new material to pile and make fun of, but fuck that. She doesn’t seem to mind standing here all day either.

“Wanna record a challenge with me?” she asks, and you can’t turn down this one in a million opportunity, no matter how much you despise the concept and everything it stands for. You’re nodding, and the level of enthusiasm you show betrays your code so easily, it's borderline criminal. It's Kim Chaewon, after all; you’ll break any rule just for her.

—————

Safe to say, there’s levels in this industry, and you’re practically placing an open target on yourself for everyone on the internet. That isn’t to say you’re not trying, it’s just very obvious that Chaewon clearly outperforms you. It’s the sort of gap that generates more questions than answers. You’ve already written down the inevitable comments from Twitter and Panchoa in your head: He went to the Jay Park school of performing! Free Chaewon from these nugus! Why is Chaewon dancing with a MAN? Among many, unsavory variations.

It’s all in good fun, at least between you two. You miss a step, miss another, quickly fall behind to the song, and it’s utter disrespect to the artist inviting you to perform with her. Nevertheless, she plays it off with a laugh, helping you through the motions until you end up with a serviceable final cut. It’s not going to break the internet, and it certainly won’t bring your group any attention, but it’s watchable—at least, you believe it is.

(Except you can only last a second watching yourself struggling to keep up before you look away.)

“Looks great! Everyone’s going to love this one,” says Chaewon, looking at your twentieth recording smiling, beaming with optimism that you’ll somehow get a share of attention for doing this when in reality, she’s the only one getting clout. “Do you want to record your song next?”

You’re well past your limit. You don’t make exceptions for that. “I’m good! I think that’s enough Tiktok for the day.”

“Heh.” Chaewon returns her phone to her pants’ pocket, chuckling at your response. “I get it. Tiktok challenges are so exhausting.”

“I can’t imagine what it's like for you then.”

“You have no idea.”

Moments pass without a word. Dilly-dallying at some isolated corridor is fun when you’re with someone you admire, but you both have schedules to fulfill. Her managers are probably fuming right now; even a five minute absence may have thrown off the rest of their day’s agenda. Time is their biggest scarcity—a resource you wish they weren’t lacking.

“I’ve kept you away longer than they want, probably,” you say, weaving around the idea that you don’t want to let her go just yet. “But it’s been fun.”

“Right.” Her eyes look ahead with alarming focus. She sees nothing, but they’re glinting as if she struck gold. “We have enough time to do one more thing.”

Chaewon turns around to grab you by your cheeks. You’re halfway to holding her arms when you suddenly stop. This is foreign. This feels—good. You like her warmth radiating all over your face. You’re about to mouth your foremost thought into words. What are you doing? is etched all over your lips, but she’s right ahead of you, answering that question with a resounding statement.

She kisses you, and it spirals out of control faster than your presumed career.

It’s so abrupt, so out of character. Suppress it all you can, you find no other urge than to give to your baser instincts. You hum as she passionately pulls you close, wanting more territory to sink in. She bites your lower lip. It’s mine now, says her narrow eyes that pierce through your soul, as if persuading you to give up. No. You’ve already raised the white flag.

Your hands explore and roam her back. Her outfit provides so much skin, yet leaves enough for your imagination to fill in the gaps. Hips, waist, and butt—you find your hands firmly groping at them more than any other part of her tight, lithe figure. She moans, she rasps against your neck, she finds solace in your arms, embracing the sudden sensations pulsing through her body. “Fuck—”

“We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here,” you whisper in her ear, your eyes circling the corridors for signs.

She kisses your side, pulls you closer to her, unwilling to let go. She’ll hug you into submission if she needs to.

“This happens all the time around these parts,” she replies, tone flattering. Unreasonable of an excuse it may be, the loud emptiness of the place provides sufficient evidence to support her. “Nobody gives a shit.”

“But what about the—”

She interrupts you with a deep kiss on the lips. No amount of convincing will change her mind. It’s settled. From there, your instincts do the rest.

At first, you find it difficult to pull yourself away from her kiss. Her lips taste sweet, heavenly, and everything you’d expect from a sweet-faced cutie like Chaewon. Her hand grips the back of your neck, keeps you still, keeps your gaze lingering on hers. A devilish smirk on her lips forms while she continues to crash into you, her eyes pleading you to stay perfectly still—like you have anywhere else to go after this.

“God, I didn’t expect someone like you to be this—” Chaewon interrupts you with another direct kiss, as anticipated. You’re still talking; she’ll have to tape your lips with hers if she wants any progress, but maybe that’s her goal. “—needy.”

Her grin widens, barely suppressing a giggle, as if this is common knowledge. “Mmm. You’ll love being an idol, then.”

You raise an eyebrow, curious and confused. “Huh? What do you mean?”

She pushes you into her, bearing the brunt of your weight that you end up crashing forward against the wall. Your shared gasp and grunt is mild compared to the thunderous thump that reverberates throughout the hallway. If no one had a clue till now, now there’s arrows pointed in your direction.

“You’ll enjoy this job.” Chaewon then pushes you away, leaving you even more hazy. Holding out her arms, she follows, “Now take my clothes off, will you?”

“Really? Here?” Your eyes dart left and right, cautious and tense. Forget about your nonexistent career; you’re thinking about how it will affect hers.

“Relax. They don’t care, like I said,” she replies, calm and collected, like this is nothing new to her. She must be doing this often to the point where she has full confidence to pull these acts on the regular. You’re gradually putting two and two together, but it doesn’t change the fact that this is wrong. “It’s all right. Let me ease you into it.”

It’s bewildering—sacrilegious outright—but you can’t look away. She truly embodies their fearless concept. Pants and underwear slide down her legs smoothly before she kicks them aside. Your gaze lingers at the crumpled clothes on the floor, jaw slacked in utter disbelief. Kissing and dating is one thing, but to watch an idol openly undress is on a whole other plane of fictitious you previously thought never existed.

“C’mon. This top is yours,” says Chaewon with a smile, guiding your hand toward one of the straps of her bra. It takes a little while to snap you from your daze, but when you finally look past the insanity of the moment, your inhibition slips. You’ll let the moment lead you to its intended climax.

So it goes. Except for the cuff on her left arm, Chaewon stands completely naked before you, emboldened and amused by the shock and awe gripping your soul. For the most part, you’ve mostly come to terms with the madness of it all, but you’re shaken up to your very foundations. Everything you know is completely tipped on its head.

Her words ring inside your head, loud and clear. You’ll love being an idol. If this is what the idol life entails, then all that blood, sweat, and tears was completely worth it—even if only for this one moment.

—————

Chaewon’s fingers run through your hair, having abandoned any semblance of subtlety by the loud mewls and whines that leave her lips, while you admire her slutty little figure. You don’t intend to rush through the moment, not when there’s so much creamy skin to feast on. Neck, collarbones, and breast—you slowly wander down her body, giving each part its rightfully due praise. She’s smaller and shorter than you; you can easily sweep her off her feet and ruin her, but an idol like her deserves to be worshiped. She knows how much attention she draws and she fucking loves it.

“I never—” A kiss on her creamy skin. “Expected you—” and again. “To be so—” and another. “Fucking hot.”

“Mmm. Not the first time I’ve heard it,” whines Chaewon, moaning as you drool all over her toned belly. She grabs at the collar of your shirt, recognizes that you’re near that tempting, forbidding zone. It does little to distract when her body demands attention at all times.

You finally reach her core, see how incomprehensibly wet her pussy is. Surely she’s getting some between tiresome schedules, whether it's from her members or managers or other idols. Why she wants you of all people, you have no idea, but you’ll certainly oblige.

“Mmm, fuck—mmm!” Chaewon’s whine rises a pitch higher, nails digging into the fabric of your shirt as you dive into her splayed cunt without hesitation. Squeezing your hands into her thighs, you lap her folds up and down, up and down. Slick fills you, pools down your lips and chin, loosely spills onto the floor—as if the lewd screams reverberating throughout the floor aren’t enough of a dead giveaway.

Looking up, you closely observe how she crumbles so quickly. It’s a beautiful trainwreck to see. There’s a hint of cuteness from the gleeful smile etched on her lips. Face completely flustered, body tingling with all-consuming bliss as you feast on her sensitive core. Between frantic whines, she gazes down while you eat her, meet halfway, and there’s nothing but toned variants of profanities and wanton pleading dripping from her tongue.

“More. Fuck. So good. Don’t stop.”

She sighs, rests her shoulders down as she melts into you. Wrapping a leg around your neck, your tongue flattens against her pussy. It’s soft, it’s wet, it’s everything you need. You drink her clean like she’s water in a desert. Her raised thigh quivers, and the trembling arouses you, pushes you deeper into her sweet nectar for you to freely consume. Every motion on her tender clit drives Chaewon crazier by the second, making her scream wildly, losing herself in bodily ecstasy.

Her breath tenses and shortens. The notion of your tongue bringing her to ruin causes her to grind her hips against your face. She’s making sure you take her body and make it yours. It’s hot, it’s heavy, it drives her torso against the wall, shaking the very foundations of the floor you’re eating her out on.

“So—close,” she barely manages to huff out, one eye looking at you consumed by lust and determined to eat her clean. Your response is maintaining the steady pace you lick and pleasure her cunt, and it sends her spiraling back out of control. She rolls her head back, almost hurting herself against the wall, and she trembles, and shakes and—

“Shit!”

The world around you fades. You drown under a violent gush of slick and wet juices. The overwhelming flow of her heat spills all over the floor. Chaewon violently quakes as you relish in her tight, suffocating warmth. She’s overcome by her orgasm, completely flushed in a haze, gripping the back of your skull with her sharp nails, holding on for dear life.

“Jesus,” she mutters between deep breaths. “That mouth of yours—”

“Mmm.” One more lick of her cunt before you regretfully leave. It sends an aftershock that sends chills all over her body. Kissing up to her toned belly as her hanging leg gracefully lands on the ground, you follow, “I never expected idol pussy to taste this good.”

Drained, she sighs and lowers her head, taking a moment to collect herself. “I can’t imagine what that cock is like.”

Silently chuckling, you lift yourself off the ground and begin to fiddle with your zipper. “Why don’t you find out?”

Almost immediately, Chaewon’s strength returns to her and you both change positions. She falls to her knees as quick as gravity slides down your pants. Wrapping both hands around your boxers, your raging erection springs free when she rips the intrusive fabric off you. Free from the discomfort of having to hold yourself back, you plant a hand on her frazzled hair.

“Suck my cock, Chaewon.”

“That was always the plan.”

The confident smile on your face after she says it drops for a groan when she grabs you by your base. Her fingers slowly but firmly wrap around your cock like a snake, casting you in a dizzying spell. It leaves you lightheaded, has you holding her hair tightly like she did yours, and forces you against the wall for support.

Your moan overpowers the initial hum she makes when she slips your cock inside her mouth. No teasing, no pretense. She takes you in right away, her patience completely tossed aside from your agonizing build up. It’s a brutal, crushing feeling. Her lips are anything but gentle when she takes you deep in her mouth, in addition to the grip of her palm on your full balls.

“Jesus! Too much!” You cup Chaewon’s face, finding yourself unable to face her, enraptured by a simultaneous shot of pain and pleasure—much to her delight. Being a senior, you’d assume she’d be gentle and gracious enough to have some control. “Take it easy, Chaewon.”

She releases your cock from her mouth with an audible pop, your tip pooling with her spit down to your hilt. “First time I’ve ever heard that from an idol. Everyone likes it rough.”

“Yes, but—”

“Tell me when I’m being rough and I’ll ease up, got it?”

Chaewon smiles, and it's the strongest sign of reassurance that keeps you from falling, even if the world ends tomorrow. Quite the juxtaposition when she reinserts your cock inside her mouth, attitude gleeful, like it’s an honor to have such a thing between her pretty lips. There’s no complaint—and why would you even consider the thought; you have one of the most talented and popular idols sucking your cock—even when your tip scratches her throat, sending repeated pulses of shock and pain that immediately part for suffocating pleasure.

“Oh, oh my God—fuck—” Her hair’s turned into a makeshift handlebar by how much you’re gripping onto them for dear life. Closing your eyes, you let ecstasy wash over you, allow that rapid growing knot in your stomach drive you wild. It’s excruciating, but so intoxicating. You want to say something in protest, like she promised, but you recognize the possibility of missing out on feeling this fucking good again. “Y-you’re incredible, Chaewon.”

She hums with amusement watching you fall apart. It’s the story of your life so far: an unexpected build up that ends with a predictable outcome. You wouldn’t be surprised if this moment follows every other script. That’s how fate works. Luck can only take you so far.

So it shocks absolutely no one when you push your luck again, trying to alter destiny. “Keep going, Chae. You feel so fucking good.”

Her suction grips you, leaves you weak in the knees. Both your hands desperately cling to her hair; you’re threatening to rip her locks when you drag your fingers off. What should mostly be Chaewon’s work is now shared by your hips, lightly thrusting and pumping your cock deep into her needy mouth. It doesn’t faze her in the slightest; in fact, she more than welcomes your effort. She twists her lips into a discernible smirk, watching you fall for her like everyone else.

It’s teasing, it’s mean, it’s borderline cruel. Her fingers coil around your shaft again. It’s clear who’s piloting the ship; after all, she’s your senior, so it’s not like you have any other choice but to yield. You get the shivers, unsure of whether it’s from the constant sensations jolting your entire body or from the serious gaze she flashes you. She makes it vivid; she’s fucking her mouth on your cock, not the other way around. Observing your rigid response, her eyes linger, watching every little muscle shake and tremble, as if expecting some kind of result.

And she almost gets it.

Sweltering, smothering heat envelops you. Out of control into a freefall. Words are unnecessary to express how close you are, barely hanging on by the thinnest of threads. Even when you try to mouth I’m cumming, it only comes out as air. Unable to keep your eyes off Chaewon, the earnest cocksucker she is, you close them, clearing your thoughts. But that proves to be impossible when she makes it so wet, so melodic, and so filthy—an all-out assault on your senses, poking through the last of your defenses.

Fuck.

You finally slip. In the throes of your orgasm, your mind doesn’t register the groan you utter that may as well be heard by the entire building. Chaewon’s name drips from your lips, falling in between a sea of inundated moans. Its delivery is very clear, but it rings through your ears as nothing but a mere afterthought. She giggles and chuckles as you cum for her, swallowing up almost everything down her throat.

Your eyes reopen to a wondrous sight. Chaewon’s face is mostly coated with your hot, thick, sticky sheen. Her slick tongue laps away at her chin, at her cheeks, while spreading your cum between her fingers. Hair beyond fixing, she brushes it off, but it proves to be annoying—doesn’t matter in the end. She catches you staring, recognizes the filthy position she’s in, and plays into the act. Hand gripped on your cock, she licks you clean while it throbs and withers away.

“Goodness, Chaewon.” You comment matter-of-factly, resting a hand on her shoulder, bending your knees out of exhaustion. “You’re unquenchable.”

She gives your cock one final kiss before propping herself back to her feet. “It’s a stressful job, but I love it. Especially when it’s a cock like yours,” she giggles, “It makes my day worth it.”

Grinning at her response, you've never felt any more validated. As you recover from your orgasm, there’s a sense of uncertainty lurking over your shadow. A sudden realization hits you. “Oh God—”

Chaewon seemingly reads your mind, laughing at your newfound struggle. “Mhm. This pussy could have used your cock inside it. I wished we had more time. Too bad.”

It now dawns on you that you won't ever get the opportunity. You were so fixated on her excellent blowjob that the thought never came up—it did, but it’s too little too late. The only response you have is one simple but emphatic and drawn out ugh.

“Be a good junior and grab my clothes, will you?” says Chaewon, grinning radiantly. Bitter as you are, you can’t turn down her request. Grumbling through gritted teeth, you hastily grab the neglected heap on the floor and hand her outfit back. You don’t make eye contact with her through it all, lest the sourness of the moment grow.

“Thanks.” She kisses you on the cheek while you struggle to smile through your pain. “Until next time.”

Her departure doesn’t process in your mind for a little bit. The thought doesn’t occur to you that she left you as is, walking around the building completely naked. Knowing her, she likely does this on the regular, or that everyone is numb to it by now.

Slowly but surely, you put yourself back together. The phone you’ve quietly smuggled within your pants rings, but you leave the caller hanging. When you finally muster up the strength to dig through your pocket, a stream of notifications flood your screen. 42 texts—37 from your manager, including six missed calls and five from an unknown number.

Forget that you missed the scheduled livestream by around 20 minutes. By the time you return to your dressing room, the place is already cleared out. You don’t bother calling your manager or any of your members. Management probably terminated your contract already on some bullshit grounds. It’s fine; you don’t believe you’ll make it past your debut, let alone the rest of the year.

Instead, you read through the anonymous number, and the messages leave you feeling giddy again.

> I knew why you looked so familiar! Yunjin told me all about you. You both attended the same school in America! How cute!

> Here’s the address to the HYBE building. Tell no one, obviously. Don’t keep us waiting :P

> kisses,

> k.cw. <3

—————

(A/N: Holy shit a pi fic that didn't take more than two weeks to make! A summer's day miracle! Jokes aside, this was primarily-BFH fueled schlock cause Chaewon looked good in that one Eve, Psyche, and the Bluebeard's Wife stage. I definitely contemplated using Yunjin as the lead—and still am, definitely gonna add her eventually—cause she stole the show in that MV with her thick body in those fishnets. Holy fuck. I need pics of those. Anyway, this is merely the calm before the storm for the next fic. I don't usually hype up the follow-up like this, but yeah, it's gonna be a big one. Thank you for reading!)

#smut #kpop smut #le sserafim #chaewon #kim chaewon

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neteyamkink · 1 year

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What if the reader tries to make neteyam jealous to see how he would react but he ends up fucking her to show he’s the only one that can make her feel this good⁉️😨

THANK U FOR REQUESTING ANON I LOVE THISSSS jealous teyam is so hot :(

Paring: aged up!neteyam x reader

warnings: filthy smut, degrading, neteyam calls reader a whore, neteyam fucks reader like a whore, choking, VERY RUSHED!!, uhmmm idk i think that’s it

likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

“Be as loud as you want, baby. Everyone needs to know who you belong to,” Neteyam growled in your ear sending chills all the way down your spine. Your back was starting to ache against the rough forest floor due to his hard thrusts.

“Neteyam!” you let out a loud moan everything was starting to become way too much to handle. Your back was pushed against the floor, his nails digging deep into your hips, the chill his voice sent down your back, and the way his cock was filling you up perfectly like your walls were made for him.

Hold on, let’s rewind and see how you got here.

“I mean it’s just to see if he really cares about you,” your friend, yu’ri, added. Currently, yu’ri was trying to convince you to make neteyam jealous as a test. Now At first, you were against it but the more she keeps arguing her case the more she is tempting you. You are typically not the type of person to play with someone’s feelings just for fun, but his reaction would help you understand where you guys stand right now. I mean you two weren’t dating yet, but there was surely something there right? Well, I guess today you’ll find out.

“Alright alright,” you finally give in to your friend, waving your hand and signalling her to calm down. “I’ll do it at the bonfire.”

—————————————————————————

“hey kumi, let’s dance,” you said, before he could even speak you were wrapping your hand around his wrist and pulling him into the center where everyone was dancing. You pushed through the crowd of people and attempted to get closer to the other side where neteyam and his friends were. Just when you knew you were in view of him you started to dance with the boy, nothing too provocative, but something just to get him riled up.

“I thought you didn’t like me?” the boy randomly questions before beginning to dance with you.

“I don’t,” you said looking past his shoulder and towards Neteyam whose back was against a tree one leg bent so his foot could hold him up on the tree. Neteyam stared you down, yellow eyes piercing through yours. You swayed your hips to the sound of the elders singing and the kids playing instruments. The beat pulsates through your body and fired up something inside you. You were determined to get a reaction out of him.

You pulled kumi closer to you, close enough to the point where your bodies were almost touching. You didn’t want to go too far with this, though. Deep down you knew you were Neteyam’s, off limits to anyone else.

“oh?” Kumi questioned your motives, but you were dancing with him who was he to question you? The thought left as fast as it came and he could only pay attention to the sway of your hips now. He wasn’t the only one, Neteyam’s gaze on you was sickening. If looks could kill, Eywa knows you would be with her now.

Neteyam’s throat started to burn with jealousy, his palms were sweaty, and his heartbeat was fast.

“Neteyam… are u listening?” Ao’nung spoke up. Fuck, he couldn’t even pay attention to what his friends were saying. The only thing that mattered to him right now was how your hips were swaying against that beast-looking na’vi.

“Yeah yeah keep going,” Neteyam flagged his friend off nonchalantly. he didn’t bother to take his eyes off of you.

“for fucks sake just go talk to her,” Roxto let out a huff tired of this silent feud between the two of you. Neteyam knew he should go and put you in your place, but part of him just wanted to see how far you would take it. But the way you were practically grinding on that random boy you were just begging for attention. Poor little you just wanted to get fucked, huh?

He tilted his head, rolled his tongue to lick the inside of his cheek, and scratched his head before puffing out his chest and stomping his way over to you. Before you knew it his big hand was wrapped around your upper arm and you were being dragged into the forest.

“Hey! what the hell are you doing,” you shouted trying to free yourself from his grasp. You knew exactly what he was doing.

“No what the hell were YOU doing?” his face was scrunched up, he was angry but fuck he was so hot like this.

“What did it look like,” you rolled your eyes giving up on freeing yourself at this point. You were too deep into the forest to go back and frankly, you didn’t even want to.

“It looked like you were just being a fucking whore. My Eywa, if you wanted attention why didn’t you just say so?” He gritted through his teeth.

that’s how you ended up a whimpering mess under him.

“Fuck, you’re mine, nobody else’s. understood?” he grunts as he fucks his hips into you. You could barely even speak so you pathetically nodded your head. Your non-verbal answer wasn’t good enough for him, because suddenly his hands were around your neck applying little pressure, “use your words.”

“yes, teyam!” you choked out desperately nodding your head. The pressure of his fingers on your neck was making your head go fuzzy. The only thought in your head was him and his dick.

“Say your mine, baby,” his breathing was harsh and rushed, you could feel his chest heaving up and down on yours.

“I’m yours,” you spat out between moans, he was fucking you so good that you could barely talk.

“cum for me, my love,” he spoke, and with those few words, you were a moaning mess, crumbling and whimpering underneath him. With the pressure on your neck, you could barely even breathe. Not even seconds after your climax he was cumming with you, releasing his hot seed inside of you with throaty moans.

“All you needed was to get fucked, huh?” he shushed you.

#neteyam smut #avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #fanfic #neteyam x reader #jealous neteyam

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