#tagging this like normal to reach everyone
Note
OKAY imagine IMAGINE reader sees negan/jeffrey naked for the first time AND sees his chest full of chest hair THENNNN nakedly grinds on his chest
Negan x F! Reader
tags nudity, smut, grinding, chest hair fetish i think??
note i did my best, i hope you like it
wc 1.5k
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Negan sits at the head of the table with Lucille in hand and his leather jacket resting on the back of his metal chair. He’s explaining something, likely what the Saviors’ next move against Alexandria is going to be, but it all flies above her head. Her eyes watch his lips as they move in tune with his words, his hazel eyes as they alternate eye contact with each Savior at the table, and occasionally glance down at what parts of his body were visible above the table.
“Ya get all that, darlin’?” He asks, looking at her.
“Oh..yeah! Uh huh. Yes…sir,” she lies. The deadpan look Negan sends her way tells her that he is not convinced, and honestly, neither is she. She bashfully looks away from him and down at the table, this time actually trying to pay attention to the rest of the meeting.
With a bang of his barb wired bat to the metal table, he dismisses everyone as he gets up and leaves, too. She's the last one out of the room, partly because she didn't want to meet Negan's eye on the way out but mainly because she wanted to watch him as he left. Before she can leave the room something catches her eye—Negan's jacket. She looks around the room, making sure it's empty before walking over to his chair and grabbing the expensive looking leather garment. She picks it up and it almost feels unreal to be holding it. She hesitantly brings it up to her nose and breathes in the scent: leather and manliness. She could get lost in it and almost does, but she quickly remembers the task at hand and rushes out the room to catch up to Negan.
With the jacket cradled in her arms, she hurries down the halls in search of the man in charge—he's nowhere to be seen. She sees his right hand, Simon, walking idly down the hall.
"Wait, Simon. Do you know where Negan went?" she asks him. The mustached man's eyes drift down to the jacket in her arms and back up to her eyes with suspicion.
"What're you doin' with Negan's jacket," he questions, reaching down for it as he does. She clutches it closer and moves it out of reach.
"He left it in the meeting room, so I'm bringin' it back to him. Do you know where he went?"
"I can give it to him, it's no trouble."
Annoyed with Simon's insistence, she sidesteps him and storms down the hall, protectively clutching the jacket.
"I'll handle it, thanks!"
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Nobody said anything when she knocked on his bedroom door, so she waited a second. She knocks again and yields the same results. She tries the doorknob and surprisingly, it gives, opening the door and letting her into his bedroom. Until now, she'd never been in his room. The sheer luxury of it all strikes her with awe. The king sized bed, the leather couches and chairs, the tall windows and dark curtains, even when the world was normal she's never seen anything anything like this.
The sound of Negan's voice saying her name snapped her attention away from the room and onto him. He's standing in the middle of the room, practically naked other than the towel wrapped dangerously low around his hips. His tattoos are on full display along with the salt and pepper hair on his torso. Unintentionally, her eyes drift down his body to his belly button, to his v line, and even his–
"My eyes are up here, sweetheart," he reminds her, forcing her eyes to meet his hazel ones.
"Ah, shit! Sorry, I umm..."
"The hell are ya doin' in my bedroom?" he asks.
"You left your jacket," she holds the jacket out to him, to which he accepts.
"Thanks..." He still looks at her suspiciously as she awkwardly rocks on her heels and doesn't leave.
"Uh, you're dismissed." She's about to turn and leave, but the sound of fabric hitting the floor keeps her there. Her face burns with heat and eyes widen as she makes eye contact with his dick. He always brags about his size, but now she has proof that he was never exaggerating. Negan doesn't make any moves to grab his towel nor cover himself, instead, he's smirking at her, amused by wide eyes and dropped jaw. Subconsciously, her thighs squeeze together at the feeling of heat pooling in her core.
"Y'alright, darlin'?" he asks out of amusement rather than concern. She blinks rapidly as her mouth opens and closes but no words come out. Her eyes alternate from meeting his to dropping down to his penis again.
"S-sorry! Sorry!" she apologizes as she covers her eyes with her hands. The attempt to cover her eyes is fruitless since she's looking through the gaps in her fingers anyway.
"Like watcha see?" he teases. He half expects her embarrassment to take over and for her to run away, but instead she stands her ground and nods.
"Yes, s-sir." Her breathing is shallow as she shifts around trying to subtly sooth the needy ache in her throbbing pussy. Negan can tell that she wants him, needs him even, and honestly seeing her so needy and desperate is a turn on for him.
"Well, you can either get the fuck outta my room or take your goddamn clothes off. The choice is yours, doll, but make it quick."
He didn't have to ask her twice, she's already unbuttoning her jeans. In a rush, she clumsily toes off her shoes before stepping out of her pants and panties. She wishes she could've given Negan a show instead of the unsexy rush-job she's currently putting on but luckily for her, Negan finds her sex crazed desperation for him endearing. But she's taking a little too long for his liking. He approaches her and pulls her shirt over her head before unclasping her bra and discarding the items.
"Holy shit, baby. You look downright fuckin' delicious," he compliments as he eyes her naked body from head to toe. His arms snake around her and pull her body into his. His hard length slides between her thighs, almost slotted between her lower lips. Her hands slide up his chest, her fingers weaving through the wispy hairs on his chest. By the back of her neck, he pulls her in for a heated kiss, teeth clashing as their tongues get to know each other's mouths. His hands slide down her back and around the curve of her ass before squeezing and kneading it in his hands. He holds her firmly and close as he thrusts his dick along her soft inner thighs. Their pleasured moans mix in their mouths which are still attached to each other. As they kiss, her hands never leave his chest. Her fingers continuously play with his chest hair and occasionally give it a gentle tug.
He pulls away from the kiss, the string of saliva between them breaks. He looks down at her, his hazel eyes dark with lust. She looks back up at him, her eyes begging him to fuck her.
"You like my chest hair, don't you, babydoll?" She just giggles but doesn't any anything and continues to doodle abstract swirls with her finger on his chest.
"I asked you a goddamn question," he says sternly.
"I do, sir." Without warning, he picks her up by the back of her thighs and she reflexively wraps her legs around his waist. While still holding her, he lays down on the bed with her now straddling his waist.
"Get yourself off on it," he orders in a way that leaves no room for questions. But she has some anyway.
"Wh...what?!" she asks through a bout of nervous laughter.
"If you like my chest hair so much, get yourself off on it, baby."
"What if I crush you o-or something?"
He scoffs and rolls his eyes before just pulling her onto his chest by her thighs. He smirks, enjoying the view of having such a beautiful woman on top of him.
"Well, I'm waitin'," he huffs. Her hands cautiously grip his shoulders before she begins grinding her hips against his strong chest. Her movements are slow and apprehensive at first, but eventually pleasure starts building up. The friction of his chest hair against her clit feels better than she expected and brings her closer to her orgasm. Negan watches her from beneath his thick eyelashes, in awe with the way her tits move in unison with her grinding.
"I shoulda made you my fuckin' wife," he comments as his hands caress her thighs.
"Better late than never, right?" comes her breathy reply. She's close and Negan can tell by her breathlessness and sweaty, flushed face. Her hand creeps down between her legs and she rubs her clit in quick circles, urging her orgasm closer. Her thighs squeeze his ribcage and her eyes screw shut as the dam breaks and her orgasm comes crashing over her.
“You liked that, didn’t you?” He teases. She climbs off his chest and flops onto the bed beside him.
“Mmm hmm.” She nuzzles into the crook of his neck. He wraps his arm around snugly her as she caresses his chest.
“So what was that you were saying about makin’ me your wife…?”
#jeffrey dean morgan#negan x reader#fanfic#jdm#negan#negan fanfiction#negan smith#negan smith x reader#twd fanfiction#twd negan#negan x y/n#negan x you#3rd person pov#negan smut#negan x reader smut#the walking dead negan#negan twd#negan imagine#one shot#smut#reader insert#x reader#female reader#request
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Chapt. 03
A/n: I’m so sorry guys that this series has been all over the emplacements with posting times. But my life is slowly coming back together and I’m enjoying writing more and trying to get back to it so!! I also apologize for any misspellings or grammar mistakes I didn’t have time to edit this! Here we gooooo!!! Tag List is Open <3
Tag List: @ashisparanoid @mini-meanhoe @leggomylino @doolsetnet @desertofdessert-blog @hoes4hoseok @mrsunshine999 @jisungsjheekies @hannie-squirrel00 @cotccotc @yangs-jeongin @binniebutter @orangegyu @little-precious-baby @raethethey @sofie296 @bluejayboys @bunnyjaycheoluwu @mingiholic @doom-fics @justhere4kpop @honeyhotteoks @star-hrts
C. L. Tag List: @realrintaro
Pairing: Jisung x Reader x Seungmin
Genre: SMAU, Series, College AU,Love Triangle, Comedy, Fluff, Drama, Smut, Best Friend AU, Slice of Life AU, YouTuber AU
Schedule: Not Scheduled ATM
Warnings: Cursing, Partying, Substance Consumption Including Alcohol and Cannabis, SMUT (Choking, praise, teasing, dirty talk, safe sex, blowjob)
Synopsis: Timing is everything. Sometimes it’s the right person and the wrong time and sometimes it’s the right time but nothing is going your way. Life revolves around this college friend group as everyone is intertwined in fate. Time will only reveal the ending.
ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : 03. a little more atmosphere
Y/n’s Pov
No matter how many times you had been to the frat sectors of your campus you could never get over how normal the houses looked. Other than the size of the houses it looked more like a regular neighborhood. White, gray, and blue houses lined the streets with inviting lights along the sidewalks. Further down you could see a good sized group of people lounging and gathering in the front yard of a house.
There was a cool wet breeze in the air. The kind that felt gentle on your skin. Your little group made its way down the street. The three of you: Nadia, yourself, and Felix, had taken a shuttle to this side of campus with the knowledge that none of us would be able to drive home. To be honest Hyunjin, who was already at the party, may have already pressed the company to do a pre game round before coming that left a fluttery nice cloud over your thoughts.
There was no doubt where Sigma Chi’s pledge event was happening. The music could be heard two doors down. It was highly likely it would cause no issue considering that the neighbors were also probably attending the party.
As you entered the house you were swallowed by rhythmic music, bodies, and colorful dancing lights bouncing around the room. This was definitely not your first frat party not that you would tell your parents. Your eyes surveyed the scene and easily found Jisung slightly elevated with his mix set up. There were a few guys chilling with him behind his set up, clearly enjoying the party.
It sometimes slipped your mind that your best friend was almost a local celebrity. Then again it also rarely crossed your mind that someone might think the same about you. It still felt weird that Jisung was always asked to DJ the parties on campus because of his radio show’s popularity.
His eyes met yours and quickly were overtaken with a smile- a bright grin that reached every part of his face. He waved before holding his hand up as if asking you to stay still. Felix and Hyunjin were still trying to get the group situated so you saw no problem and waited. Jisung dipped his head and adjusted some of his equipment.
It was as if his vision tunneled and channeled on you as he watched you expression change. The almost instantaneous joy on your face never failed to make him feel proud of himself as he switched to your favorite anthem. It was something he did only for you and no one else.
Your body jumped up and down to the beat- hands in the hair. Jisung started jumping along with you and the small crowd in the house immediately started getting hyped like it was foreign club.
Someone tapped your shoulder. You turned finding Seungmin’s friendly face. His hair was a little messy from the party atmosphere put everything else about him was clearly meant to flatter. The black button down he wore lay perfectly on him accenting his frame.
His hand smoothly slid from your shoulder to your hand. Gently he lifted it and encouraged you to twirl to the music for him. It was hard not to admit the action made you feel a little warmth on your cheeks. It was either that or the shots were kicking in.
As you finished your turn he pulled you into his chest and leaned down so you could hear him over the music. “You look really good, Y/n.” His long fingers hesitantly adjusted your top layer of clothing.
Seungmin greeted the rest of the group and you all headed out back onto the patio. As you stepped outside your shoulder brushed a giggling blonde haired boy. “Oh sorry-“ you said turning back to look at him. The boy had a half finished blunt in his mouth, lazy smile on his face. He had a funny pair of sunglasses falling low on his nose and his attention trained on the girl who was holding his hand behind him. The boy’s other hand was holding an entire bottle of jack.
Seungmin laughed and put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Woah there bro,” He looked between you and apparently his fraternity mate. “Jeongin this is, Y/n.”
His eyes widened and a massive smirk grew on his face. His fingers adjusted the bottle of alcohol so he had two free fingers to reach and pull the joint from his lips. “Oh yeah- dude, she’s Jisung’s friend right?” Seungmin looked a little annoyed that’s how you were being introduced as. “Hey, boo. Yo- you ever want something hit me up I’ll give you the Jisung’s friend discount.”
The boy didn’t even wait for your hesitant smile response and he turned away dragging away the girl in tow behind him. “So-that our newest recruit, Jeongin.”
“What a colorful gentleman,” you mused with a laugh as Nadia handed you a drink.
The evening rolled on in a happy blur. The music was good and always the perfect vibe, though you would expect nothing less from your best friend. You enjoyed the time with your friends, everyone drinking and having fun. Occasionally a game would come up to play but eventually everyone would fall back to your lounge spot and just talk for hours.
You were lounged on a patio couch outside, Seungmin’s leg resting over yours as he took up the rest of the couch. A nice rosy glow painted his cheeks. Felix couldn’t keep a giggle from bursting out which made you burst out laughing for a reason you could not even remember.
Feeling the need for another drink you tapped on your friend’s leg, which he immediately lifted. You stretched and offered refills before heading into the house towards the kitchen.
The party had taken a turn as the hours had grown late. Instead of the thundering base the house was now filled with a sound that made you feel suspended in pleasure. The colorful lights flowed in tune with the music and the rooms were collecting clouds of smoke hanging in the air like chandeliers.
Making your way past several people in the kitchen you found the island counter which was covered completely in bottles of liquor and mixers, coolers, and ice. A plethora of bad choices. How lovely!
Your hand instinctively went for the rum and you began pouring a drink to your liking. The air shifted and you felt a familiar presence enter behind you. An echo of laughter followed him in the room. His eyes immediately met yours before grabbing a random cup from the counter and drinking from it.
“Are you enjoying the party?” He leaned on the counter next to you, head tilted with his little impish grin.
You rolled your eyes with slight smile that did not go unnoticed by Jisung. “I just wish it had a little more atmosphere, you know.” Hearing the sarcasm drip from your lips had the boy pushing himself off the counter and puffing his chest and stepping up close to her.
“Oh yeah- you wanna fight bro-“ He stopped when he heard you collapse in a fit of giggles and his arms instantly came to rest on your elbows making sure you hadn’t lost your balance. “Nah that’s not me, honey. I’d atmosphere the shit outta this place.” Jisung filled the rest of your cup, knowing just how you like your drinks. “Changbin’s giving me a break.”
You nodded, sipping on the bubbly concoction. “Makes sense,” you replied, leaning against the counter shoulder to shoulder. “No wonder everyone is basically fucking.” The two of you looked around and laughed before tapping cups and taking a giggly shot.
The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Jisung turned and nudged your shoulder. “Hey- you wanna get some air?”
“I’ve got some in my lungs already but I could always use some more.”
“Ass.” Jisung said with a laugh, his hand resting on your lower back as he guided you to the front of the house.
Twinkling stars and fluffy clouds emerged as you exited the frat party and followed the sidewalk in the front yard. There was a step in the path and Jisung comfortably plopped himself down there as if it was the comfiest seat on the block. The ground a was a little wet as it had just begun to rain- more like a mist, gently kissing your warm cheeks.
Cans and party favors littered the grass around us. The air smelled fresh and new, something you always loved about rain. The part still roared on inside the house, Changbin’s music seeping through the walls and onto the street. Occasionally colored lights would flash through the windows and catch in the tiny droplets of rain like crystals.
There was a small group of college students chilling out with drinks on the porch. Whispers of their conversation floated to your little spot but neither of you really cared to listen.
After taking a drink, you pulled your phone out to see the night had already come to almost three in the morning. “Ooooo the witching hour,” Jisung joked shaking your shoulders. After he let go he set his drink down in the grass before pulling something out of his pocket. “Do you mind?” Jisung asked placing a joint between his lips.
You shook your head and took a sip from your drink and watched as he lit and took a deep draw expertly inhaling before gentle pools of smoke floated out of his nose with a sigh. His eyes lazy opened and met your gaze before he offered you a hit.
Shaking your head you said, “I’ve already had a bit to drink.” He nodded and leaned back on his elbows before tilting his head back and taking another deep hit. You could almost see the point where a nice little daze came over his eyes. A beautiful funnel of smoke came from his lips straight up into the air.
“I forget- do you smoke, babe?”
He giggled as you shrugged. “Nah, I mean…One time- Felix and I, we made these like pretty sick edibles.” It was impossible not to remember how fun that night was. Jisung let out groan, hands covering his face, before he shot up and came only inches away from your face.
Your eyes widened as you looked and him and the grip on your cup got a little tighter. He had a lazy smile on his lips as he whispered, “Fuck- make me edibles, Y/n.” Something about the way he said your name had your hazy mind tripping over itself.
“Uhm-…”
“Dude- that would be the best high ever! You’re food and- fuuck, Y/n.” Jisung grabbed your cheeks and squished your face. He looked at you for a second, clearly feeling the effects of the smoking blunt in his other hand. “So do you wanna try?”
You giggled as his arm slid behind your back and he leaned into you. This side of Jisung was all too familiar. “How does it always end up like this?” You ask pushing him away a little.
“Like what?”
“You teaching me to do all kinds of shit like; you taught me how to kiss, and you taught me how to sneak out and all that other stuff.”
He laughed and flicked your forehead. “Your fault for hanging around a bad influence.”
“Somehow my parents think you hung the moon.” Jisung held your gaze before looking to the joint and back to you. “You kinda wanna teach me don’t you?”
He grinned, pushing his slowly dampening hair from his face. “Kinda a lot.” You nodded and took the blunt from his grasp. He watched you eagerly as you brought it to your lips. “So you’re going to want to suck and then inhale. But think of it more like a helium balloon than a straw.”
You felt a sweet smell float into your nostrils that somehow felt like pepper. The back of your throat burned a little as you breathed it in. After a second you couldn’t help but cough.” He laugh at how cute he found you. The watering in your eyes and scorched remnants of your throat spoke volumes that you were quite the opposite as you continued to cough.
Gently Jisung patted your back before ruffling your hair. “That sucked balls.”
“How do you know what balls taste like, bitch?”
Rolling your eyes, your fingers brushed your friend’s hand as you passed back the joint. “Not for me, I’ll stick to edibles.”
“Which you will be making me soon by the way," his words were ever so slightly slower letting you Jisung was definitely feeling good right now. You nodded and let him lean his head against yours. Suddenly the mist gently floating onto your skin became heavy droplets and both you and Jisung sat up at the feeling.
With squinted eyes your friend turned to you and said, “My car’s right over there- you wanna?”
“Yes, please!” You shouted as the rain began to pick up just enough to be uncomfortable.
Jisung pulled you up and tucked you and his still lit joint under the shield that was his arm. Quickly the two of you shuffled through the shower to the gray sedan that he had been driving since high school. The lights flashed through the weather as the backseat door was flung open and your best friend ushered you inside.
Once you were safely enclosed in the vehicle, you watched his slender form jog around to the other side of the car before climbing in with you. “Did it go out?” Jisung asked, clearly referring to the joint he had handed to you at some point.
Lifting it, he smiled seeing the tiny golden embers still burning. “Niiice.” Jisung then reached between the front seats and turned on the car before cracking the back windows ever so slightly so the smell of the rain would float in and the future heavy smoke filled air would flow out.
While he was adjusting things, you were busy getting comfortable having brought your slightly rain filled drink with you. Jisung handed you his phone, a habit of his whenever you were in his car. It was the only time he would ever let you play your own music. “Yeahhh I’m gonna ruin your buzz with death metal music.”
“Y/n no- that is so not the vibe pleasssse,”
“You handed the phone and with it the power. Kisseth my ass.”
“Bend over.” Jisung had a lazy smirk on his face and you were happy that the car was dark except for the colors coming from the dashboard a small world away. Suddenly the backseat felt much smaller than it did before.
Obviously he was joking, but that did nothing to stop your already pink cheeks to flush even more. “Fine, I’ll pick good music.” From the way your voice got softer Jisung could tell you were blushing. He leaned back into the corner of the door and the seat and took another draw before blowing it gently out the window, savoring the feeling of the smoke leaving his body.
He watched you scroll on his phone, letting his unfiltered thoughts float freely as rain pelted the roof above. Maybe it was just he hadn’t seen you in a week, or maybe all of the smells around him seemed fresher, but something magnetic was drawing all his senses towards you.
When music softly starting coming from the surrounding speakers, you looked up to find Jisung already looking at you- a loopy smile on his face as his fingers rolled the blunt back and forth between his grip. “What?”
“I’ve missed you,” He said, brushing his nose and pulling your legs into his lap.
There was no helping the goofy giggle that came out as you were now feeling the effects of all the shots that were taken earlier in the night. “You just saw me the other day!” The handsome boy shrugged and you felt him absently rub his palm up and down your calf. You were almost certain he was not even aware of his actions. For just a second your head dropped back on the seat and you let yourself get lost in this perfect atmosphere.
“Yeah- but I mean I wanted to hang out with you at the party tonight,”
“Yes, the party you were working?”
He laughed once again drawing patterns along with the music on your leg. “Hey if I’m drinking I’m not working. Why didn’t you come up to the booth and chill?”
There wasn’t really an answer. Not one that Jisung would like anyway. Jisung didn’t have anything against Seungmin, but the two always ended up butting heads on something. “Well, Seungmin was the one who invited me and it is- in a way- his party,” The boy rolled his eyes before turning to look at you with a smile. “I’m chilling with you now though!”
“Who's more fun, me or the kappa boy?”
“You were just playing their pledge party. How do you not know the name of the fraternity?” You could feel yourself struggle to string together so many sentences that long in a row. “It’s Sigma Chi.”
Jisung’s lids hung low over his eyes as he laughed. “Whatever, admit that I’m more fun already!” He whined. Without another word, you told him exactly what he needed to hear, if only to shut him up. There was nothing that made you happier than being with Jisung even when he was being an ass. In fact when he was being an ass you found him the most loveable. It was one of the hardest things about having a crush on him.
Clearly the effect had set in on Jisung, but it didn’t take him long to notice every so now and then you would sneak a glance at him messing with the joint. “Do you want to try again?” He asked with such patience you didn’t expect that it made your heart skip a beat. Remembering the awful burning sensation you vigorously shook your head no. The tiny bit of fear in your face made Jisung laugh. He was always going to be the stoner out of you two. He also had no doubt that you were probably getting at least a small contact high from the lingering smoke. That was what gave him the idea.
Jisung normally had zero filter and thought about nothing before he said it. So, of course this instance was no different. “Do you want to shotgun?”
“Like get in the front seat? Why?”
Your best friend burst out laughing, slapping the side of your leg in his lap. “Bro- no,” Jisung’s laugh was contagious and between him and the slow feeling of inebriation, it didn’t take long for you to laugh along with him. “Hold up- let me show you,” Jisung turned so he was now facing you and he gave your ankles a tug, silently asking you to come closer.
Scooching across the backseat of his car, you came face to face with your friend. You had been this close before many times but it always made your heart race. “You like Harry Potter right?” Jisung questioned in a funny accent that made you giggle. “Okay, so- hey! Eyes on me!” He jokingly scolded you for getting slightly distracted by a group of people running outside behind him. “So, you’re gonna pretend like you’re a dementor sucking out my soul.”
“What soul?”
He rolled his eyes with a smile and brought the joint up to his lips and you tried your hardest not to let your gaze linger there. With gentle hands he brought your face even closer to his own. Once he had a mouth full of smoke, Jisung tapped your cheek with his finger and you parted your lips slightly. Suddenly you were very aware of your surroundings and even with the rain and the music it felt very quiet. You watched in fascination as the smoke gently billowed from his lips towards your own. Not exactly sure what you were doing, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
You could feel the smoke as it scratched the back of your throat leaving a tingling sensation behind. There was still a burn in your nose but it almost felt like someone had just sprinkled too much pepper on their food. When you opened your eyes, you found Jisung still holding your face, his eyes trained on your lips.
A tension hung in the air as rain pelted against the car windows. Your friend looked at you with heavy eyes, dozily fixating on his finger as it moved to brush and trace over your lips. You felt your skin come alive as you simply held as still as you possibly could while he gently traced over your features. “Jisung?” His eyes brought themselves back into focus but he made no effort to move any amount of distance away from you. “You good?”
“Oh-I’m fantastic.” You could feel his hand ghost over your shoulder before it dropped into your lap. “This is the best high I’ve had in a while.” His other arm reached up and laid itself across the top of the backseat. His head flopped onto his arm as he looked over at you with his brown doe eyes.
“I’m feeling pretty nice too,” You giggled, resting your head on the seat and enjoying the floaty feeling engulfing you.
A goofy smirk played at the corner of his mouth. “You wanna feel even better?” Before you could ask how or why Jisung’s lips were on yours. Oh this was a terrible, awful, stupid, irresponsible idea. That thought went out the window when you felt Jisung pull you closer to him by the back of your neck. He grinned as you returned the kiss with an equal passion. College was for bad decisions right? This was definitely a mistake that would feel so...fucking…good. You pulled away to set your drink in the door’s cup holder and Jisung chased after your lips. “No, where are you going?” He almost whined. “Come back to me.”
You gasped as his grip got a little tighter around your throat. By what some might call a happy accident you had turned into his hand, his thumb moving to the other side of your neck. He smirked, giving the soft skin in his hands a gentle little squeeze as he turned your attention back to himself. “That was really fucking cute.” You stayed frozen in his grip completely enamored with the way he was looking at you.
Jisung had a curious grin on his face, almost as if you were a peculiar new toy for him to play with and explore. “Well- who taught you that…”Instead of pulling you back up into his lap your body was twisted and pushed down into the car seat. You were very aware of his knee brushing up between your thighs as Jisung looked at you from above.
Mesmerized, your eyes tracked the swing of his silver chain. A gentle tug of your chin brought the focus back onto him. You were completely enamored with the way he looked at you with his pretty face. It was a struggle for your brain to function as you tried to find a better word to describe how happy looking at his face made you feel in that moment other than…pretty.
His smile dripped away into a sly smirk as he said, “Mmm, now I’m curious what other things you do.” You giggled as his lips tickled their way down your neck and playing with your shirt. “Hey- that a cool sweater why don’t we,” Jisung joked before pulling your top over your head. The second the fabric revealed your face he captured you in a giggly kiss that made your noses bump together.
You felt a cool touch against your very hot skin and for a moment you didn’t even care where it came from that it felt so good. Had you opened your eyes the sight would only have made your legs squeeze tighter than they already were. Jisung was latched onto your neck and chest while his other hand sneakily has made its way past the barrier of your pants.
And then, all of a sudden, you felt a weight on top of you that cause you to groan and then laugh. “Oh my god- Ji- what was that!”
“Sorry my wrist gave out,” He giggled making no effort to relieve his weight from your chest.
You slapped his shoulder “Here, get off of me.” With little contest, Jisung pushed himself up and reclined in the backseat. With lazy, happy eyes he watched as you crawled into his lap and the between his legs on the floor. His pretty brown eyes tracked the way your hands moved up and down his thighs. “Better.”
In the backseat it was hard to see but you watched his eyes darken as you smiled at him. He watched with a raised brow as your bottom lip was pulled by your teeth. “What are you doing?”
“Showing you what else I do,” You reached up and smiled as you started undoing his pants. For a moment he let you feel him, the cloth underwear providing you a hint of what you had only guiltily dreamed about.
“Hey- wait gimme a sec…” Jisung said nervously laughing and pulling your hands into his own.
Your brows furrowed and the silence between changing songs seemed to last a little longer than you had noticed before. “What’s wrong?” He seemed to notice you begin to second guess yourself.
“Dude- I don’t let anyone see me half soft.”
“Jisung we’ve taken baths together!” You said between giggles as you rested your arms on his thighs.
“Yeah, but we were five! Just shush- trust me I don’t need long.”
Sighing, you rested your head on his thigh and looked up at him. His senses zeroed in on the gentle touch and tap of your fingers on his leg and you were so close that he could feel the soft brush of your breath against him. He watched the way your lips absentmindly whispered the words of the song playing in his car. When you noticed him staring you gave him a little smile, leaning your head deeper into him.
“Yep-that’ll do it. Come here. Now.” He leaned down and pulled you to meet him for one last steamy kiss. Eager to prove yourself, you parted and gently pushed him back in his seat. His eyes widened and a weighted sigh left his lips as he felt your tongue wrap around him.
It was easy to take him simply because the sight of him enjoying your mouth made it water immensely. It was as if every little sound and move from his beautiful face made you want to live only to experience this. His hand very quickly found purchase at the back of your head, twisting your hair between his fingers. “Fucking hell…” he breathed, hand covering his eyes.
Jisung pushed it back into his hair only to meet your eyes as your lips quite literally popped off his dick. Your stomach twisted and your thighs begged to squeeze together as you attempted to hold eye contact with him. It was hard but somehow the hazy fog in your brain gave you the confidence. “You mind if I get more comfortable,”
He shook his head and smiled as you came face to face with him again. With a curious grin, he watched you slide your pants free from your legs and toss them in the floor. The consequences of this would be great, so now was the time to make it worthwhile. Your knees came to rest on either side of his waist, pressing into the backseat. A cool breeze from somewhere in the car ghosted over your lower back as you slipped your hand past your underwear and felt a smooth wet sensation coat the tips of your fingers.
Jisung let out a low moan as the same hand gently wrapped around him coating his length with the soft feeling. His own hands tried to pull you closer to his lap. “Why so far away?” Jisung smirked, his lips coming dangerously close to yours.
“You got a condom, then?”
“Back pocket.”
“Really, Ji, that’s kinda gross,” you giggled, as he lifted the two of you a little so you could reach.
He nuzzled into your neck leaving open mouthed kisses in his wake. “It’s only for emergencies just such as this.” He captured your lips in a kiss that made your body melt as you pulled the wrapper out of his wallet. “This definitely qualifies as an emergency.”
You listened to the soft music and rain pelting against the window as Jisung slipped on the condom and pushed the fabric of your panties to the side. Slowly, you began dropping your hips down onto him and let your eyes flutter closed.
Eagerly, Jisung tried thrusting up into you before he had even fully bottomed out. It made you smile and sink down onto his lap. A low groan came from beneath you and his hand wrapped around you almost in a hug. Your heart was beating thousands of miles a minute wrapped in his embrace feeling everything you had to offer each other.
A shiver crawled down your spine as Jisung’s hand trailed down your back and twisted your underwear in his hand- tugging it away from your soft skin. It was so easy to completely fall into the steady rhythm the man below you was setting. Your fingers rooted and twisted in his hair as a soft moan left your lips.
“Do it again.” Jisung smirked and started putting more intention behind his movements. Stuck in a happy cloud, you complied and let every sweet sound fall loose and into the air hanging heavy around you. “Fuck- I’ve never heard a sound like you…” he groaned, letting his head fall back.
Seizing this opportunity of the weakness, your lips attacked the beautiful skin of his neck. With hooded eyes you watched each little twitch of his face as you kissed and bit down his chest. Jisung wasn’t as vocal as you had imagined, but hearing his baited breath and raspy groans had you breathlessly grinding against his own thrusts.
His long fingers pushed your focus back to his brown eyes before capturing you once again in a kiss. Remembering the oh so sweet little trick from earlier they then gently wrapped around your neck, squeezing the sides. A shaky whimper was cut off in your throat.
You opened your eyes to see Jisung staring at you with that goofy, mischievous smile that made every inch of your body feel happy. His other hand was pressed firmly on your lower back before you felt it move up and start to undo your bra.
Whether Jisung’s body count was higher than yours or not, you knew it would take more of his focus to remove that article of clothing than it would be to stop you from doing whatever your wanted. You let your hips move and bounce a little and almost instantly you could feel his body react under you.
He had only managed to undo one of the hooks, and now was simply trying to pull the straps down your arms. Jisung could do little to keep his arms from going limp, fully succumbing to how amazing you felt around him. His eyes closed and his head dropped onto the seat behind him.
The streetlight cast shadows through the drops of rain still falling on Jisung’s rear window. The shadows rested on his cheek and lips making you want to do nothing but touch them. Leaning down, pushing his hair away from his forehead, you kissed him. Though his body was relaxed, Jisung returned the kiss fervently.
“Keep going,” he rasped against your mouth.
The idea of you basically fucking yourself on his dick in the backseat of Jisung’s car would have made the everyday ‘you’ red up to the ears. Yet here you were, desperate to listen to the quiet sounds he made as you used him.
Regaining his composure Jisung tried to move your underwear that had shifted back and was rubbing against the two of you. Each attempt had him frustrated in both the best and most aggravating way. After giving up with it, you felt a sharp but lazy smack to your ass.
“Jisung-“ you moaned against him.
“Mhmm if you keep going like this I’m gonna fucking lose it.”
You could see the windows quickly building up with steam as your bodies moved in sync. Coming down just in the perfect way, you gasped and let loose a starved moan. Every very small amount of sense was shook loose from your brain. A kind of euphoric feeling was coming over you.
You hardly gave a fuck about getting off. It was going into this, the furthest thing on your mind. The universe had glitched and this wasn’t supposed to happen but here you were pulling on your best friend’s hair as he was desperately trying not to cum so soon. His muscles were tensing and his breath became short and quiet. His face beautifully twisted in pleasure. Jisung’s arms wrapped around your waist and back in tight hug that begged for you to keep going.
“Fuck, yes- Y/n, just like that, honey…” he groaned. You could feel that familiar knot forming at the pit of your stomach. That wonderful warm tension. “Oh- fuck,” his voice trailed off in glorious moan that had you clenching around him.
Quickly his hand reached down and held you against him, pushing him deeper than you expected to go. Then that tiny little ball tightly twisting in your stomach floated apart in the wind and left you in shaky feeling of ecstasy. All you could do was melt into his arms with a whine.
Jisung’s chest heaved as he stared up at you. You had no time to be embarrassed about exactly how of much your own wetness you both were in. He held your gaze as his hand rubbed up and down your back before tangling in your hair, bringing you down for a breathless kiss.
⇄ ◃◃ II ▹▹ ↻
C. L. M.List
Masterlist
#cue lights#kdiarynet#stray kids smau#han jisung smau#han jisung smut#kim seungmin smau#kim seungmin smut#stray kids x reader#stray kids reactions#stray kids scenarios#skz social media au#jisung imagines#seungmin imagines#skz x reader#skz imagines#skz oneshots#skz fanfic#skz fake texts#lee felix#bangchan#hwang hyunjin#yang jeongin#seo changbin#rubber ducky you're the one#skz college au#stray kids au imagine#stray kids college au#jisung x reader#seungmin x reader#Spotify
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OK guys I have a confession to make
I fucked up big time lmao I dmed my crush from my fake account and now he wants to see a pic of me (like kinda he asked why dont i have a pic of my face as a profile pic and i said bcs i dont like it and then he said well i havent seen it yet so idk) what do I do? Like I don't wanna catfish him but I also can't send a pic of myself and say 'surprise motherfucker it's me' (he goes to my school sooo yeah) I originally did wanna dm him from my real account but only in the holidays in 2 or so weeks bcs then if he's mad at me / decides to spill everything to the whole school I'll only have 1 and a half months left of school and I can make it through that unscathed I think. Do I say 'heyyy so yk this is actually my second account and I forgot to switch before I fake accidentally send a tiktok to you that was 'meant for my friend' and yk sorry bout that' like actually what do i do? Pls help me bcs I'm actually freaking out like crazy rn and I might just block him lmao
#tagging this like normal to reach everyone#reality shifting#shifting#desired reality#shifters#shifter#fuck#help#i fucked up#shifting realities#shift#reality shift#shiftblr#shifting diary#plss someone#send help
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history 101 💛
This was originally just supposed to be me having fun exploring what Ephemer would be like as a teacher but it got a bit out of hand in a good way (but I think I spent way too long on this lol)
Notes:
I wholeheartedly believe that teaching is Eph’s true passion. While writing Overmorrow, I came to realize that his role as a teacher/master is necessary in ensuring that light and the will of the keyblade lives on, but it’s also something he would just genuinely enjoy doing on a personal level. Aside from being able to infodump to his heart’s content (that’s a big deal! 😄), he can also help, inspire, and lead as a teacher! I think if he does actually establish the Keyblade order/academy in canon, it would be his pride and joy
Eph’s actual classroom may not have looked like kh3/dr’s, but I like to believe it was probably similarly designed. (He learned a lot about teaching from Hestia 🥰)
Lyra first appeared here :) the rest of the students are new, I made them up on the spot
my ass could not have handled making Overmorrow as a webcomic
#khux#khml#ephemer#overmorrow#but can also be canon!#my art#my posts#timeless child#lyra oc#ok ok secret tags:#I sound very normal about it in the body of the post but I screamed when I realized eph would /adore/ being a teacher#idk what it was; maybe I was just generally emo at the time but#like obviously you know he would have students and all as a master but. it’s different when you’ve lost everything and don’t know what to d#in order to move forward from there#teaching just feels /so right/ for him#the kid who questioned everything; who reached the truth; who was chosen to lead and survive and succeed#the kid who helped and cared for everyone around him#that’s teacher material! he’s a teacher!!!!#and honestly after he spent so much of khux doubting himself the fact that he can do /this/ with his whole heart makes me a bit teary eyed#ok I’m done that’s my blorbo dump for the day thank yooouu
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Soon im rly gonna do it
#🕸️#sui mention#< in the tags tho cuz it feels nicer to talk abt this in tags than in the post itself cuz to me posts are like talking normally but tags are#like whispering? talking you can tune out if you want but whispering is rather more voluntary to say it doesnt matter however#every single year passes and i wish i didnt live in each and every one of them i feel disconnected dissatisfied empty disappointed every day#it can be a small part of a day or a bigger but its still there clenching onto me like and never letting go im tired of it theres always a#wall between me and otyer ppl im unsure if i put it there or was it put there by other ppl but its there and even if anyone tries to reach#into it do i understand how even if close are we really far away it makes me understand just how much of an abnormality i am and how much i#cant ever be like them no matter how much i try and climb and crawl until i bleed its exhausting its maddening#almost everything i do is shaped by spite i wear one bracelet for years out of spite i dont smoke out of spite i dont shave my hands not#only because im normal abt body hair but also out of spite the more i know ppl the spiteful i get only way for me to truly like someone is#to keep them at a lenght outside that wall if they get in then theres only two choices for them to dislike me or even hate my entire being#or me to shove them back out without ever letting them get in#coworkers say im a nice kind person but im not its all just a facade to make my life easier and to suit myself im hateful but i dont believe#its entirely my fault after all they will to my face make fun of. laugh at. and hate everything of me they would see in other ppl that dont#hide it deep within like i do and then it rly hits me how different abnormal foul disgusting and unnatural i am#im hit with his every talk that goes on too long every word that keeps going every touch every expression every comment made on my behalf#its exhausting to live this way i fear im near my limit i havent reached it but who knows when i will#i sometimes dream of doing it and leaving behind a note wishing nothing but painful suffering to everyone i ever knew irl but i dont want to#do that to my best friends and my dog but who knows how long its left before the thread breaks#thats all like comment and subscribe if you personally would do me a favor by taking me out back and shooting me
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feeling like a total asshole today 👍
#an aunt's mom passed away yesterday night#i didn't really know her that much just spoke to her a few times for the typical merry christmas & happy new year you know#so when my mom told me i felt bad for my aunt bc i knew they were really close but i don't feel SAD#but my parents seemed to be like so shocked and sad and my little brother even started crying#and i felt absolutely nothing#idek what my mom saw in my face but she went like 'don't you feel anything?' and like wtf am i supposed to feel#like. i'm sorry for my aunt and everything but i just?????#that already made me feel like an absolute asshole but now we have to go there (like 2hours away by car)#and because i am an adult now i *have* to go to the funeral home (?) today and to the funeral tomorrow#and i REALLY don't want to and thought it's making me so fucking anxious bc i haven't been there since my grandma passed away 2 years ago#i really don't want that feeling that i felt back then to come back#not right now#not when i've been starting to feel a bit better this past week#but i'm already failing at that because they started to come back the moment i was told i have to go#and i feel like a fucking asshole because my aunt's mom literally passed away and she (and her whole family) must be heartbroken right now#and all i can think about is that i'm anxious#i'm anxious to go back there. i'm anxious just thinking that i'll have to express my condolences to people that i don't even know#i'm anxious because i'll have to TALK to people and at least try to look a bit SAD but i can't just fake it#bc if i don't look sad my brain tells me that i'm an asshole that doesn't have feelings like apparently everyone around me has#but if i fake it my brain tells me that i'm an asshole bc why tf do i have to fake my fucking personality#why can't i just express my fucking feelings like normal people do and the only thing that i know how to do is fucking complain#like. i know i rant a lot here but it's literally the only place where i talk about my feelings#i NEVER talk about my feelings with anyone because idk HOW to do it#i have like a million things in my mind that i want to tell my mom or my therapy for example but when i finally convince myself to do it#i just CAN'T. the thoughts won't leave my mouth because i don't know how to phrase them properly#so nothing ever leaves my mind unless i make a post here bc apparently writing my thoughts in english (my 2nd language)#is easier than talking in spanish#and at least if i write them here they don't just stay bottled up in my mind#but i'm too tired of myself and my stupid brain that tells me that i do everything wrong :/#i'm gonna shut up now bc i once again reached the tag limit
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the truth is i actually get so insanely jealous
#not even ab christmas gifts and stuff its likr#idk obvi its christmas ppl will post their hauls but its like damn? more than 3 items person??#every year i get a pair of pjs and something practical. not that im complaining because its shit i use but#we dont make gift lists. we arent asked and arent allowed to want stuff so idk how to ask for it. then ppl ik have 30 plus items of junk an#i donr care ab presents because im a hoarder who doesnt use my shit but they have families who know of their interests#who talk to them everyday and go out of their way to converse. i don't even know my brothers fav color. my mother doesnt know my fav food.#me and my grandma say at most 6 words a day cuz of a language barrier and my father is a baby who doesnt reach out first#i eent to a friends house 2 dsys ago snd the whole family was chatting and the house was so lively and homey#then i go home and nobody says a word to each other. idk what code everyone has that im missing but oh my god im so jealous#im jealous of their relationships their freedom their partners the amount they spend their friendships their personalities#i want to be like them. i want to be them. but im me and the most i said to mom on christmas day was merry Christmas. then get yelled at#l speaks#shut up l#ranting in the tags because i can#its like god took his time making their lives as close to perfect as possible then went to me and was like ehh#he made me odd and offputting enough to make me different then made me 'normal' enough to not raise any flags#then put me in the most virtually normal home environment that at its core is fucked#but idk. its 5 am i havent slept in 2 days merry Christmas happy new year.#posts that couldve gone in the notes app
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sometimes I’m scared that other people only think my outfits eat when they emphasize my waistline and make me look skinny and not when it’s an outfit that I put a lot of care into because it’s another form of expression for me
#silv's back on her bs#like I know I probably sound like ‘boohoo it must be so hard for other people to think you’re skinny’ but I just mean that like.#I’m really proud of the outfits I put together#I like my style and I like how I’ve spent the last couple years exploring with it and letting it be another extension of myself#and I’ve created a (very small) rep around having cool outfits#but the other day someone complimented my outfit and don’t get me wrong I felt nice that day#but it was literally just low rise sweatpants and a cropped tee (ie heavens forbid I had skin showing and my stomach was out)#like was it cute? sure but it definitely wasn’t an Outfit#and I got a lot more compliments because on it then I do on a normal basis#and idk. I wasn’t the biggest fan of that#and I’m scared that I’m also starting to use it as a crutch when I’m putting clothes on before I leave#like the other day I was putting an outfit together and instead of reaching for something that I think is really cool and being creative#I was genuinely met with a wave of like ‘okay but how attractive am I gonna be if I wear this’ or ‘would other ppl think I look good’#which is FUCKED#because I LOVE clothes!!!! I LOVE dressing up!!!! and I KNOW that I don’t need to look good for others that beauty and style doesn’t#have to be conventional that there’s so many cool things that lie outside that framework. And I used to be outside of that framework too#but UGH I hate that everyone else’s opinions on MY body are starting to get to me#anyways i feel like this should have a cw but idk what to add#ask to tag#ig(?)
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(wrote this song before i left for college but it’s sure applicable to life right now!!!!)
lyrics: falling from grace, i’m a rusting lace artifact / tears down my face as i break my immortal pact / trust me, i want to be healthy / trust me, i want to be special and loving and sweet / trust me, i know that i’m broken / please, i just want one more chance to prove that i could be the— / best friends know how to reveal me / best friends know how hard i try to have something to say / best friends know that it’s not helping / can i just go far away to where there’s nowhere else to— / turn around, up and down, i’m melting!!!! / turn around, i have something to say!!!! / color bleeding, heartbeat leaving, need a place to lay my head / arms are folded, fine print bolded, everything is overloaded!!!!!!!! / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue, i’m coming undone / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue, i’m coming undone / color faded by the sun, i bite my tongue / trust me, i want to be healthy / trust me, i want to be special and loving and sweet / trust me, i know that i’m broken / trust me, i know that i’m broken….
#when i write a song and don’t know what it means and then i have a breakdown and suddenly know what it means#turns out i have been compartmentalizing since i was a VERY young child as if there are two parts of me completely separate#and one of them is this golden child perfect person always so ready to please#and the other one is a literal fucking monster. that’s how i’ve been thinking about myself since i was a little kid#and i sort of. i had a breakdown about that last week and then yesterday i was so upset about not being able to separate myself from illness#how i’ve always been treated and treated myself as if there’s a perfectly healthy person in there somewhere who is just plagued with demons#so i’m constantly reaching for this person that doesn’t exist and never has and never will#because i can’t accept myself as a whole being complete with good and bad parts of me#it’s also just autism/POTS venting shdhdhdf but i knew that much#it wasn’t until i thought about my childhood though that i realized i’ve always been autistic i’ve always had mobility issues (though less)#and that i have never let myself integrate those aspects of myself into my permanent identity. like i’m waiting for them to go away so i can#prove myself and show how good i can be at just being normal. so i don’t know. anyway here’s a song#P.S. i processed my emotions so good and i’m normal now. gonna get dinner with that guy today and have a normal person conversation#so don’t worry about me. i pretty much fell asleep after i posted and i’m doing a lot better now#anyway i’m not great at this instrument shdhdf and i’ve also been crying so like as a piece of music this isn’t great#but as an expression of a feeling and idea. these are the feelings and ideas i’ve been thinking about#of all the things to theoretically be overheard by a ton of neighbors though. living in a dorm is nerve-wracking!!!!#most people don’t hang around my dorm at this time of day though i’ll be alright. hope everyone is doing well#me. my post. mine.#ask to tag#music
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most boys could be improved with a little nail polish bit thomas bordeleau especially. like what is not clicking for him that he hasn’t done it already my god
EX 👏 ACT 👏 LY you understand. i saw this post one time and simply never looked back so without further ado here are the top ten nail polishes, in no particular order, that i think thomas bordeleau should try:
1. sally hanson xtreme wear in 140 rockstar pink
we’re starting with this one because i previously mentioned it in another post, and, while i think thom gives the vibes of a single color natural nail mani, i like this one because it’s one polish that’s multicolor—dark pink glitter with a little bit of blue to call in the sjs and the baby blue suit he was wearing. also, glitter nail polishes will last you FOREVER
2. chanel le vernis in 339 cassis
also have to start out by including my closest approximation to the nail polish in the photo that started this all. i love the sheerness of this polish, which means it can be more unobtrusive and a little blink-and-you’ll-miss-it barely-there detail or more prominent with more layers
3. gucci glossy in 715 winterset snow
personally i don’t often go for a white nail but i think borde would like something very crisp and clean (white does look nice on him). however, i think his white and/or cream needs to be a little cooler and not as much on the yellow side, which made finding this polish difficult but like. what else was i doing today (so many things)
4. les mains hermès in 85 rouge h
we have solid evidence that borde loooves a good maroon moment and i did specifically pick hermès (no idea why. fancy? would appeal to him?). love the cooler tones in this red for him and i heavily debated giving him this really deep rich purple (violet byzantin) of the same style of polish but we can work up to wearing that one
5. cirque colors x live. love. polish in puttin’ on the ritz
while i know the first color on here is literally a fine glitter, To Me thomas bordeleau is a chunky glitter gorl. it’s got artsy details, a bunch of different types of glitter, it’s iridescent, it can be layered, i’m in love with it. it will match any outfit thom i promise
6. maniology in b333 gold rush
imho i would wear more silver jewelry to compliment the cool tones he likes to wear BUT. borde almost always sports gold (honestly not bad wrt bringing out the california tan, it doesn’t wash him out) so i am giving him a boring, but very specific metallic not-too-yellow-or-light-or sparkly gold nail color. sorry. just paint one nail and use it like an accent or for french tips for spice, idk bud you’re the hand model here and i am simply an incredibly picky art director
7. àuda.b in my cactus
i love how vibrant this green is, i love the finish on it, i think we could convince thom to branch out into more jewel tones and pastels. also yes i picked this to match his houseplants
8. nails.inc caught in the nude in hawaii beach & boy de chanel in 404 black
i have a lot of shiny and glittery finishes on this list and i reeeeally wanted to throw in a matte finish so. this is a two for one because i couldn’t find a matte version of this chocolate brown that i really liked for him but also i’m giving him a special matte black polish because to me these are both neutrals
9. mooncat in millennia
this one just looks dope. i feel like he would like the chrome effect to it? it is more high effort because it’s a magnetic polish, but also given that he loves juicewrld now i think i could swing this one on that basis alone (it’s the same colors as legends never die).
10. zoya in zp797 cecilia
how could i make this list and not include a pacific teal nail polish for the san jose sharks 🦈 this also would be stunning as a pop of color to accent his grey game day suits just saying
ok if you made it to the end of this i love you ✨ thank you for coming to my ill-advised impromptu ted talk @ thom please paint ur nails and also confirm or deny whether you have pierced your ears thank you
#please take all opinions with a grain of salt#at the point where i am simply Inventing a man thomas bordeleau is not real i made him up#nail polish is soooo gender to me sometimes#i have spoken at length but i forever will say that thom = chipped mani natural nails#like the worst part of this is that i could actually see him painting his nails for a look & i want it so baddd#also you don’t escape having a little sister without having your nails painted at least once in your life like thom please what don’t u get#@ thomas bordeleau paint your nails 💅#thomas bordeleau my worstie my hatred spirit my incorrigible terrible meow meow#liv in the replies#me haggard finally reaching the tags again after Quite Some Time like ah. fun! what was i saying at first in these?#if i were like. normal this post would not have taken me over three hours to write because i had stupid specific Visions of nail polish#i am sooooo picky so so sooooo picky akdjskndkahdi thom please take my recs i think they would look nice on you also i like them#ok also i mentioned the juice wrld thing and i’m not getting into it now but 😶 the indescribable faces i just made#also i know i made a little nail thing for trevor of nails i think he would wear but i need to find the tags so i can sort them together lol#baby blue shades 🦋🐬🫧💎🛼#please amend my prior tags to four and a half hours and everyone pray for my sleep schedule because. she f**ked
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I FORGOT TO POST THIIIIIIS have a future charlie. probably like 6 or 7 years in the future? tfw you’re an anti-hero who was once a supervillain and you’ve kinda turned your life around except now everyone hates you for killing a beloved local superhero because you were framed to make it look like it was on purpose when really it was just a horrible accident...oops
#superhero oc#supervillain oc#antihero oc#human oc#once again i hate tagging for non-fandom stuff!!!#stanley does art#charlie grimms#made a shaded vers. too but i really like the flats instead#he is so much fun to draw he is a guy i can be SOOOOOO normal about (he just reached 100 images on toyhouse) (everyone clap)#100 images all happened this year btw. ive had him for four years but i wasnt obsessed with him. i drew him maybe 3 times in that span
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wah
#venting in the tags like its 2014 again. i feel like im back there so why not#sick n tired of being in the middle of other peoples issues#i want to have stable housing that lasts more than 3 months#i just want to live in a house with people that are normal abt communicating#my roommates are making me so uncomfortable and anxious in the house I ALSO PAY FOR#i want to live with my partner more than anything and i want to see my friends again like i did in college but#im tired of balancing this shit with my job thats sucking all my energy away from me#money is gonna get tighter bc one of my roommates is leaving bc of aforementioned communication issues#i would move out too but my partner is still in dorm housing until next may and he doesnt deserve to deal with that on top of senior thesis#and it takes more money than i have rn and will have for the foreseeable future#im so tired of this. my mental energy is reaching high school levels of drained i never wanted to reach this point again in my life#and again. i would like to have longer term housing than just three fucking months#ever since my parents moved into a new house 4 years ago I havent felt like ive had a home and this certainly doesnt help#do i just. have an aura around me that influences people to act weird#i miss everyone#i havent been able to draw/paint anything to completion in weeks.#the only things i can do anymore are work shower or laundry.
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Summary: Amid the severe consequences of war, Aemond finds himself alone, without the presence and support of his young and sweet wife, who insists on staying away from him, afraid of who he has become. He has been a respectful and patient husband. But tonight he feels like he has finally reached his limit.
Author's note: Please, pay attention to the tags. This story contains sensitive topics, such as: +18, SEX, SEVERE INTERNAL CONFLICT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, POSSESSIVE/OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, EMOTIONAL DEPENDENCY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIP AND MORE.
word count: 6k
There is no specific description of which house the reader belongs to, so feel free to fill this in as you wish.
English is not my native language, forgive me for any spelling mistakes.
Good reading!
He can taste vomit in his esophagus.
Aemond knows it wouldn't be too difficult to get out what little he ate. He coughs as discreetly as he can into the back of his hand before taking off his eye patch, wanting to splash some cold water on his face and throat. He pretends not to notice how his hands are a little shaky as he pulls the gloves off of them, cupping his fingers inside the basin left by the servants on the table. The cool water feels refreshing on his hot skin, and with a satisfied hiss, he looks up, staring directly at the reflection of his own face in the mirror.
The flickering flames of the fire near the wall provide no comprehensive illumination, and he is honestly relieved by that. What little he can see is disturbing enough. His single lilac eye is bloodshot, his silver hair is disheveled, so different from normal. Paleness in the face, sunken cheeks. The subtle glow of the blue stone in his other eye and the deep scars around it only add a dying touch to his ghostly visage.
Another deep tug wracks his stomach and he leans forward, gripping the sides of the table with abandon, preparing to actually throw up this time. But nothing comes, nothing but the painful, nauseating feeling in his body.
He can't forget.
It's all his doing, after all. It's all his fault.
The death of all those people, the desolation of the entire Riverlands. It's all his fault.
Any feeling of greatness and power that previously inhabited his body no longer existed. His superiority and confidence swept away by the tide until he was spat out on the shore with nothing but pain and trauma.
He is a hypocrite and he knows it.
Aemond is not a good person. He doesn't want to fool anyone with his anxiety attack, he definitely doesn't need to take on the role of the poor regretful guy. He doesn't regret what he did, he doesn't regret doing what was absolutely necessary for the good of his family. He could never regret this. And he knows that tomorrow, a week from now, or a month from now, he will do exactly the same thing again if necessary. There are no limits to what he is willing to do to and for those to whom he is loyal.
He can't even dare deny liking it all.
When he's on Vhagar's saddle, with the world in flames just beneath them and the addictive power to decide for good or ill for those poor, hopeless souls, he can swear he's never felt anything better. There's something disturbingly liberating about embracing the monster that resides in his chest. It's surprising to him how good it feels to be ruthless, to take on the role of the uncontrollable beast everyone says he is (rightfully so).
It wasn't always like this. But a series of violent and tragic actions that may or may not have been intentional earned Aemond more than just an ominous codename. They gave him respect; fear. Aemond One-Eye, the son without expectations, the child without any prominence. No more.
He feels ruthless when he is in the skies, dictating the fate of humanity. It gives him power. He is powerful now, he is no longer the boy forgotten by everyone. The feeling of being superior pumps hard through his veins until he goes wild, makes him feel like he's crushing people under the soles of his boots. He is more powerful. Their lives depend solely on the way his hand moves and it turns out that, to their misfortune and terror, his hands are wrapped around the saddle of the largest dragon in the world. It is difficult to be sensible and godly when there is so much power at his command. He is more powerful. There is nothing that can stop him. He feels invincible, unstoppable. He doesn't just enjoy it - he worships this feeling.
At least until it's all over.
When the dust settles and all that is left is the consequence of his actions, it is then that he quietly withers away.
He killed them. All of them. His hands are stained with blood and ash and it's all his fault. He has separated families forever, traumatized so many souls with insurmountable depression and pain and it is all his fault. Adults, elderly, children, babies. All dead. Because of him. Hoarse screams of terror and fear, all begging for a mercy that would never come - could never come. Not by his hands. Not when he had a family and a purpose he was so loyal to.
Aemond worships the sense of power that comes with a reputation for being ruthless and regrets nothing he has done and will do for his duty. Unfortunately, this does not mean that he does not suffer the consequences in equal proportion.
Another sigh. He drops his head and presses his fingers against the edge of the table. He closes his eye so tightly that patches of white light explode into his vision, each labored breath makes him lean forward and clench his teeth. The pain is impossible to ignore – it shakes his insides, leaves his limbs trembling.
"Is this hurting you?" a soft voice asks, a small, fragile thing, almost impossible to hear - if it weren't for the fact that he lives to hear the sound of that voice. He knows this, and so does the owner of the voice, both fully aware of this dangerous dependence. “Pretending to be a God, I mean.”
Aemond feels his heart beat faster, the angelic sound of your voice rescuing him from the merciless depths of his own mind, making him slowly raise his head as he stares at the place where the voice came from. He almost can't believe what he heard. But there you are, sitting on your bed, surrounded by comfortable sheets and pillows, your wide doe eyes catching the moonlight and fire flames in the dark of night, shining like stars.
His sweet wife.
He simply looks at you, not offering any kind of response right away. Not because he doesn't want to. But because he's too surprised to hear your voice and see your face to form words at the moment. Aemond doesn't know how he ended up here, in your private chambers - the place he hasn't been welcome in for some time. He was supposed to go to his chambers. Was he that distraught and distracted? Could the confusion clouding his senses have unconsciously led him directly to the person he needs most at the moment?
He looks around quickly just to confirm that, yes, there is no doubt that he is in your chambers. He didn't intend to do that. He shouldn't be here, invading your privacy and ignoring your request that he keep distance. Of course, his longing and need for you made him consider such a thing countless times. Regardless of your wishes, he was your husband; he had a right to be here. But he never did that. You don't want him in your bed anymore and you've made that clear. And Aemond was not ignorant or even insensitive enough to pretend not to understand your reasons. You had a lot of them and he knows.
You were not made for cruelty. Your innocence and purity made you unable to be aware of the horrible things he did and still treat him the same way as before. You were afraid of him now, just like everyone else. The blood of many was on his hands and you knew it, just as you knew he regretted nothing, and that he would not stop this - not until victory was achieved.
You didn't agree with that, you never did, not even before the marriage. But what could a young woman do in the world they lived in? You were just a piece on a board game, an ace up his sleeve used by your father specifically to provide armies and loyalty to the crown in exchange for a marriage and a more than convenient name for your family.
Aemond knew from the beginning that you didn't want to marry him; how could you after all? You barely knew him beyond the questionable reputation that surrounded him, and a dangerous family clash was about to break out in the kingdom - this was definitely not the right environment for romance to blossom. But you did your duty. You had been an exemplary wife in the short two months of peace that followed your marriage. You treated him with respect and patience, slowly opening your heart to him with each passing day. He wasn't the most talkative or the most sensitive husband and yet you showed empathy for his limitations, accepting what he gave you with gentle smiles and rosy cheeks, without demanding anything more. So sweet. So inocent.
It was no surprise the feeling that welled up in his chest.
Aemond was obsessed before he even realized it. Needing your gentle attentions like a flower needs the sun. He clung to you as his only comfort in an almost bleak existence, he became more and more obsessed with you and you didn't notice. You read with him, walked through the gardens with him and talked to him as you always did, kind and polite. And every day he felt hungrier, pushing the limits of restraint. You welcomed him into your bed every night, welcoming him between your legs as if he belonged there - and he did, indeed. Aemond's appetite for you and you alone knew no bounds.
But he wasn't the man you married anymore, was he?
You fear him now, any and all advances he's made with you over the past few months have vanished into thin air like the ashes he's so used to seeing now. The feelings he was carefully cultivating in your chest now seem to have sunk so deep into your being that he thinks they no longer even exist. You no longer craved his attention; the touch of softness and affection, whenever “husband” dripped from your mouth, was absent. And now all he could do was want.
Aemond doesn't look away from you, not wanting to miss this moment for anything, not after being deprived of it for so long. And you look back at him from where you sit on the bed, chin lifted in false courage. You looks at him with your bright eyes and high cheekbones, which seem even more highlighted in the warm lighting around your bodies.
He may have entered your chambers out of pure unconscious instinct, out of nothing but silent desperation. His body guiding him when his mind no longer could. But now that he's here, he doesn't know how he didn't realize it from the beginning. It's impossible to think about anything other than you. You, you, you.
At this point, deaths at his hands no longer existed. Not his pains or the weights he carries, not revenge, not duty. Anything. Absolutely nothing. There is only this moment, between him, a boy who so wanted to be enough for those he loves and the young girl who is illuminated by the light of the flames.
He feels it. It's not new. That strange impulse that draws all the attention of the environment around him to you and you alone; an almost painful need between his teeth to take a bite and not let go, to have it with all your heart and nothing less.
"Nothing to say?" You press and he's not even embarrassed by the fact that he doesn't remember what you said before. He should leave. It's all he thinks, even as he takes an uncertain step closer to your bed. And that's enough for you to immediately tense up, wrapping your small hands in the sheets to subtly pull them towards you. You are hiding yourself. Hiding yourself from him.
Aemond should leave, continue respecting your limits.
If this had been another night, maybe he would have done it. If the smell of smoke and dragon scales hadn't been trapped in the leather of his war clothes, as well as the dust of ash, then perhaps he could have left. If he couldn't smell the insistent scent of charred bodies and decimated land in his nostrils, taking permanent root in his lungs, perhaps he could respect your innocence.
Not even Aemond knew how on edge he already was. Your refusal of his proximity was just the final push to his downfall.
He adores you. He worships the ground you walk on. He respected your decisions and stayed away much longer than any other husband would have done. And this is how you repay him?
Aemond narrows the only functional eye he has left. You don't react, nothing more than another protective grip on the sheets and a slow swallow of saliva. He wants you so much and the thought enrages him. Why? Why does he feel this way? He desperately wants to punish you for making him feel this way. He wants to punish himself for even thinking about doing this to you.
You left him like this; nothing but a mess. When would you finally accept him for who he is? When would you understand that some cruelties were necessary for the final goal to be achieved? When would you see that everything he did and would do was solely for his family? For you. To keep you safe. When would he be enough?
He grits his teeth and feels his entire body tense with thoughts. He hates it; he hates the way you confuse him and make him feel all these terrible emotions. It makes he feels weak. The temptation of the slightest chance of your affection suffocates his common sense. He feels his hands shaking. He'd been so blinded by the hopeful, innocent vision he constantly saw you through that he fooled himself into thinking he was on your mind as much as you were on his all this time.
"Aemond?" You whisper, sounding more uncertain than before, disturbed by his extended silence as he slowly approaches the bed. He keeps looking at you the whole time, letting you glimpse the flames of fire reflected in the icy sapphire in his eye. He adores you, with every fiber of his being. But the flash of fear that shines in your eyes in response makes him stretch the corner of his lip in a malicious smile. He couldn't help it, there's something sweet and pure about you that makes him constantly waver between wanting to protect you and wanting to destroy you.
You try not to weaken before him, but Aemond immediately notices the way your body is a little trembling when his hand, that same hand that drags the musk of leather and death, passes through the fabric of the sheets, spreading lightning over your legs. You don't stop him, but your eyes flash with a frightened warning, a warning he ignores tonight. His palm flattens against your ribs, daring to caress, to feel the linen of the sheets beneath his fingers, the softness of your flesh beneath it, and you squeak an off-key sound, pulling the cocoon of blankets and furs up to hide you.
A small annoyed growl leaves his lips and his other hand quickly covers yours, stopping you from continuing.
"No. Enough of that." He says in a low but firm tone, looking sternly into your eyes. You part your lips, surprised by his behavior, and try to pull the hand still trapped by his, but he doesn't let you go. "That's enough, wife."
He thinks you might try to deny it, but you fall silent, slowly relaxing against his grip on your hand. Aemond wants to purr at this, wants to praise you and spoil you, because you are so good, so good. His good girl. Even when you're crushing his heart between your delicate hands.
It's not your fault, he tells himself. It's not your fault that he's obsessed with you, driven crazy by the idea of you. Aemond can't even focus properly, even when you're in front of him, defenseless and at the mercy of his whims. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest from pure ecstasy and excitement at the same time. And he can feel, on top of it all, the blood flowing to his hard cock, making it swell beneath his black riding pants. He feels embarrassed by his actions, but at the same time excited, just by the little things you do, by everything you are to him.
“Something is wrong with me...” He says, more to himself than to you, gently pushing a strand of your soft hair behind your ear, sliding his thumb in a gentle caress across your delicate earlobe. “You're in my house. You're in my house and I don't want you to leave. Never." He approaches your face, sliding his fingers from your ear to the side of your face, until he holds your small chin between his thumb and forefinger. "I need you." He continues, ignoring how honest and frank he looks - weak. “I keep thinking of ways to make this happen,” the more he talks, the faster you breathe, sweet little sighs near his lips, calling to him like a siren’s song… “I want to ruin you. Because I think that's the only way you won't leave me."
The intensity of his words scares you, he realizes, he sees how your eyes fill with tears and your eyebrows twitch. But even in the dim lighting of the flames, he can see how the tops of your cheeks turn red, how your chest trembles with the breath that catches there...you want him.
It's a shame you're so willing to keep him away.
But he can't stop.
Aemond closes the distance in an instant, pushing you down until he traps your body beneath his, feeling the contours of your soft, supple curves against him; he shudders. He caresses your face one last time before moving down, ignoring your hesitation and your useless efforts to push him away. Quick as a viper, he grabs the hand that moves to push against his chest, wrapping it with the other still attached to his, holding your wrists tightly above your head.
You cry out at the pressure on his wrists, the long lashes over your eyes fluttering, pleading. "A-Aemond, what are you doing?" you stutter. "Please, please... I said I needed it - please give me some more-"
"Time? Oh yes, you said it." He hums thoughtfully, placing a thigh between your legs, dipping his face into the crook of your neck to breathe in the fresh fragrance of your shower, snoring contentedly with your naturally sweet scent. Intoxicated by your scent, he trails his lips along the slender column of your neck before stopping at the shell of your ear. “I’m so sorry, dear, I’ve waited too long. We’ve both waited too long.” He intones, intoxicated by your presence. You sob once but don't say anything else, choosing to turn your face away from him. Aemond snorts a laugh at that, but doesn't stop you, preferring to leave a tender, wet kiss on your cheek.
Squeezing your wrists with one hand, he allows the other to slide slowly down your body, almost reverentially. He paused at the delicate laces holding the front of your nightdress before untying them with deft fingers. The front opens, exposing your silky, flushed skin to his hungry gaze. He doesn't have the patience to remove the fabric completely from your body, so he just lowers it enough so that your breasts are exposed. He bites his lip, holding a curse between his clenched teeth. When he presses his bare palm to your perky breasts, he tastes your trembling innocence, your soft flesh.
So beautiful.
So pure.
From the beginning you were his opposite, your delicate hands, as irritatingly clean as his are stained with blood and ash.
As much as he truly suffers from the consequences of his actions, he never regrets them, because he knows they are right - necessary. There was only the future to shape, the past should stay where it belongs; behind him. Something he had learned through much pain, but unfortunately, his sweet wife had not yet. But as he runs his greedy fingers down your body, feeling the goosebumps on your soft skin with each touch, Aemond knows he scares you as much as he excites you. You can't hide it from him. Your obviously involuntary response to him only makes him fiercer, hungrier. He wants to ruin you from the inside, until you can't bear to live a single day without his touch.
He allows you to continue your theatrics, still stubbornly staring at the wall while pretending his actions don't affect you. There's something almost too tempting about it, in fact; It's a matter of honor for him. He will break your masks and he will take pleasure in doing so.
Letting his fingers slide down your sides, Aemond's lips wander. He kisses the hole in your throat, moving down with wet, licked breaths to your breasts, tasting you. You gasp softly and grip tight fists on the bed sheets when he captures a soft nipple with a slow suck of lips and a teasing scrape of teeth, your body curling beneath him tightly. He smiles with your nipple still between his lips, leaving wide, warm trails of his tongue on the little perky bud. His hips slide against the inside of your parted thighs, pushing the hardened bulge in his pants against your pussy once.
You bite your lip and close your eyes, but he doesn't stop. With another thrust he uses his strength to push you back onto the bed, the bed you shared many nights with him, to fuck you into the warm sheets. It's almost too much for him to finally feel your little pussy once again, even through the leather of his pants and your delicate nightwear. But he continues with slow, strong thrusts, rubbing his cock against you in a way that teases your clit, the smell and heat of his effort wafting throughout his body; sweat, dragon, fire, ash, blood, death - all mixed together, merging with your own sweet, intoxicating scent and, of course, the unmistakable scent of sex.
Before the chaos broke out, Aemond was quite skilled at this, at driving you crazy. A part of him is extraordinarily pleased to find that he still remembers correctly, especially when a press of his fingers and a twirl of his thumb on your slobbery nipple makes you gasp. He wants to see you, to see you blush and sweat, looking ruined for him. Gods, oh yes, Aemond wants this so much. He can't stop, he can never stop, especially with you singing so sweetly to him. When you arch into his touch and whisper his name softly, like a secret no one can discover, his breath hitching. Aemond can't stop.
A specific thrust makes you let out a high-pitched meow, your hands pulling at the linen on the sheets and he moans along, releasing your breast with a wet pop to look at your face. You have your lips parted, your long eyelashes touching the top of your cheeks, your eyebrows furrowed in sweet agony. He thrusts a little faster, rubbing your clit with more pressure, taking in your presence and the feeling of your tiny, supple body, preening at every sound that leaves your lips.
Sounds so sweet, so beautiful; he considers himself a sinner with the way something so innocent and angelic makes his blood boil and his cock throb with need inside his pants, surely soaking the fabric with the way he feels himself leaking.
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me, baby...”
And yet, he doesn't think he cares about dying by your hands when things turn out like this. He is admitting defeat without any embarrassment now; he can bear the dull weight of war, he can bear his own mind trying to destroy him at every turn, he can bear the betrayal of his own family and the demands of his duties. He can bear with anything.
Anything except being without you.
With an impatient grunt, his fingers tug at the soft skirt of your nightdress, bunching the thing at your waist as he rips your underwear down your legs. You don't try to stop him, but you don't try to help him either, remaining almost motionless against the bed, and he feels like he can growling at you like an animal for that - stubborn girl. He hates and loves this about you in equal intensity. He's almost rough and punishing as he hooks the back of your knee into the inside of his elbow, pushing your leg up to your breasts. And then you're giving up your fight, sighing - all anxious expression, furrowing your eyebrows and biting your lip as he hurriedly unzips his pants and pulls them down just enough to pull his cock out, slamming the wet, throbbing head over your clit before sliding his entire length along your folds.
You moan, he moans. The slide is wet and he can't tell if it's all you, if it's all him, if it's all both. He doesn't care, honestly. All that matters is how his cock is thrusting into your heat, hitting your clit with luscious pokes, coaxing more of those sweet sounds from your pretty lips.
He hooks your other leg in the crook of his elbow and does exactly what he did with the other, trapping you between him and the bed in a position where your entire pussy is presented to him. With his hands flat beside your head, he brings his face closer to yours, the leather covering his chest pushing your knees further into your breasts. You moan through your teeth, unable to do anything but tighten your hands around his shoulders. He smiles slowly, drunk on the sensations, still gently sliding the length of his cock into your folds.
Aemond doesn't look away from you, enchanted by the way you dance between looking at the sapphire stone and the deep lilac of his functional eye. You've always done this, he thinks - saying one was as beautiful as the other, impossible to choose.
“I’m giving myself to you, love…I’m yours.” He whispers softly, husky, needy to you. "Will you do the same from now on?"
He’s so close he feel how your heart races violently at his words, slamming against your ribcage as you take a deep breath. Every expression on your flushed face makes him sure you're going to have an intense crying fit, but even when the liquid in your eyes pours down the side of your eyes, you keep yourself almost in one piece. You look deeply into his eye as your shoulders shake. "Y-yes." You exhale, fragile. “Yes, yes, yes,” your voice sings repeatedly, with quick, confused nods, tears streaming from your eyes.
He can't hold back the husky sound that leaves his lips, his cock pulsing in reaction to your obvious fragility exposed to him.
"Yeah?" He asks breathlessly and it's very slow - as he thrusts inside you, thrusting his hips back and forth once, twice, three times until your pussy swallows as much of his cock as it can, until the tip of his hip bones rub it against your thighs. And it's so intense, so obscene – the position he puts you in, the full weight of his body pinning you to the bed, broad shoulders hiding you from view, silver hair like a curtain around the two of you, your mouth falling open in a silent scream and his releasing small curses between clenched teeth... debauchery.
You give his shoulders a few desperate slaps as he fills you, your tight ring of muscle stretched to accommodate his girth, and no matter how long it takes him to prepare you, no matter how wet you are, he knows there's always that initial pain that rips through your groin as he pushes into you. It makes you sway beneath him, little tearful sobs that are like the sweetest song to him.
Another curse muttered in deep Valyrian was his only warning as his palms sink into the softness of the bed. Your own hands looking desperate too, one tangled in the silver base of his hair at the back of his neck and the other gripping the material of his leather shirt, a strangled moan catching in your throat as he begins to fuck you slowly. You can only hold on as he pulls and pushes his body above you with each deep thrust, his impatience shown only in the forceful and violent way in which his hands grip the bed sheets.
He leans into you a little more, moving his hips in different ways, testing the angles until he makes more of those tears well up in your eyes as your pleasure increases almost painfully. Your moans quickly turn into babbling when a particularly strong movement of his hips makes you shake all over. The way your tight pussy tries to contain him and suck him in at the same time drives him crazy, feral.
He won't last long. He already knew this before it even started, but now, feeling your walls squeezing the life out of him after so long deprived of it, with your cute little noises getting louder and louder, with your expression drunk with lust and sadness, the buzz of battle still vibrating through his veins... Aemond feels release approaching shamefully fast for him.
He'll make it up to you later, Aemond promises himself. When the hot need subsides at least a little in his system, he'll take off his dirty war clothes, maybe ask you to take a shower with him. He'll soap your body and tease you until you're riding his cock in the tub at your own pace, his fingers rolling your little clit with each bounce of your hips. He will lay you on the bed and love every inch of your soft body, worship your skin with kisses and hickeys. He will part your thighs and bury his fingers and tongue in your wet softness. He will rip orgasm after orgasm out of you until you are hoarse from screaming, until your body is physically unable to continue.
He will do it all.
He has done it in the past, many times.
Now, however, all he needs is to find his release, to unload those months of forced distance inside his trembling body. But Aemond will be damned if he doesn't bring you along with him.
He leans down to press his forehead against yours, pushing your legs against your body further, lips parting with hoarse, breathless moans that escaped him with each thrust and the sweet pleas you murmured incoherently. The movement of his hips quickens, one hand leaving its blunt grip on the sheets to squeeze between your thighs, poking your clit in tight circles, his cock hitting a spot inside your walls that makes you shiver and tremble in anticipation.
“Aemond…” you cry, digging your nails into the back of his neck, pulling his body towards yours, as if you weren’t already physically as close as possible.
He growls at your plea.
“My little, innocent wife,” Aemond giggles wildly as your pussy clamps down on his length again, your climax approaching, his thumb rotating a steady rhythm on your clit. If only your mind was clear enough to form a coherent thought, maybe you'd complain that the rhythm of his cock in your pussy would be painful, that the continuous and harsh scratching of his clothes hurts the soft and delicate flesh of your body, but you don't say anything, not now. You just accept what he gives you. And he knows you missed him as much as he missed you. “Always so good to me baby.”
Aemond watches you intently, unable to look away from the pleasure that shows on your face. You're shaking, lost in your wet breaths and high-pitched, broken cries, your legs trapped between his body, welcoming him. You're tight and small, his sweet wife, and Aemond can feel your cracks stretching, a spider's web of fractured thought and temptation too much for anyone to bear, and as much as he knows it's impossible, he wants this moment to last forever. Aemond is undone. A fool in love. And it's sad. And it's beautiful. It's being at home.
"Mine." His murmur echoes next to your lips, both of you breathing each other's breath, his rhythm starting to falter, the searing heat rushing through his body beneath those layers of heavy clothing makes him dizzy, but he doesn't stop, he doesn't stop. “So pure, so beautiful, so delicate…” he caresses your clit without faltering with a rumbling purr as his cock swells inside you. “Ngh...oh fuck, so tight. You're going to get everything, aren't you, darling? All of me.” His own teeth graze your neck as you arch and scream in pleasure. “Be a good girl and don't let anything leak, hmmm…”
He fucks you roughly, your name dancing on his lips like a prayer in the dark. Aemond savors this moment with the veneration it deserves, the final chase. The two of you so broken, so vulnerable, shaking with pleasure for each other. He rubs your pussy, hips slamming into you at lightning speed.
And finally, gods yes, it finally happens.
"Aemond! A-Aemond, please! Please-" You throw your head back, your lewd pleas turning into a broken scream as you explode around him. Your face is flushed and glistening with a subtle sheen of sweat, tears streaming down. It's all he can take. You convulse and break and the sensation of his cock swelling with the resulting explosions of hot cum filling you follows shortly after. As your body and pussy tremble and clench, he finally releases his own pleasure, biting down hard on your shoulder to muffle his husky moans, spilling himself deep inside you, the continuous spasms of your orgasm milking every drop from him. You and he cum together, and even in the hazy haze of climax, he thinks he's never experienced something so sublime, so perfect.
You're both shaking as you come down from the waves of mutual pleasure, and Aemond is especially careful now, gently unfolding your legs from that tight position to allow you to stretch them, which earns him a long, grateful, relieved moan. He slowly pulls away until he's kneeling between your thighs, watching raptly as you bite your lip as his cock leaves your heat. A tight grip circles around your parted thighs, lifting them up a little to expose your dripping pussy. He looks almost in awe as he watches his seed flow steadily from your abused pussy.
But Aemond is selfish and his cum doesn't belong on the crumpled, sweaty sheets. No, he told you to keep it safe inside you and that's what would happen. His fingers slip into the wet mess of cum in your folds, pushing as gently as he can all the thick liquid inside you again.
You're too tired to react, but you still sob softly at the sensation, subtly squirming on the bed, legs shaking from being held in the same position for so long. He looks at you, icy lilac gaze half-lidded with lust, blue stone glowing in the flames of the fire. He looks at the soft, creamy flesh of your sweaty body. He longs to see dark spots and bite marks, a way of proving that you belong to him. He lifts his head, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh, just above your left breast. His teeth leave crescent moons on your skin and you scream loudly at the stinging sensation, but you don't stop him. He walks away, admiring the constellations he had traced on your skin. Painting you for him, marking you as something unique to him.
You sniffle and blink wet eyelashes at him. He kisses his bite, murmuring gentle words to you, his lips trailing up with soft sucks and wet kisses in your throat until he brushes against your lips. And it's then, and only then, that he realizes he hasn't kissed you yet. He doesn't know why he didn't do it, given that it's probably the thing he misses most about you. Feeling the softness of your lips on his, the gradual way a small, innocent kiss quickly evolves into something more urgent, the way you immediately struggle to keep up with his pace, his hunger as he swallows your cute sighs and your ragged breaths as he suck your tongue.
Yes. This is what Aemond longs for. How easily he could make you fall apart in his hands.
Taking into account the way that you blush and look down at his lips, you're thinking the same thing. He smiles mischievously, slowly leaning in for a deep kiss, fingers damp with your juices and his cum resting on your jawline. Your little hands sink into his hair until you lightly scrapes your nails across his scalp, making Aemond shudder. The fingers of his other hand cup your hip, tracing the line of the bone in gentle patterns. His nose bumps yours as his tongue dances in your hot mouth, spreading in you the taste of smoke and revenge that seems to follow him at absolutely every moment now. And like his perfect antithesis, you gasp, let him savor your sweet, fruity flavor - so fuckin sweet.
Your legs circle his waist, making him press against your heat, quickly reigniting the flame of need within him. You lick it off his tongue, moan when he sucks your bottom lip and bites it, you beg between quick breaths and Aemond continues to rub himself against you, the kiss becoming sloppier, driving him crazy with how irresistible you are in this state. You give yourself completely to Aemond, without asking questions or making new complaints, and it drives him crazy.
"You are mine. Only mine. And you will never leave me again, do you understand?" He murmurs as he pulls away, both of you panting, looking seriously into your water-bright eyes, noting how they're a little wide and your mouth is swollen and wet from his kisses.
A few tears slide down your face, but you smile shakily at him, the hand in his hair stroking the silver strands lovingly.
"I am yours, Aem. Now and forever." Honesty bleeds into your shallow voice, your little fingers on your other hand tentatively tangling with the buckles of his shirt to open it.
Aemond rests his forehead against yours and truly smiles for the first time in a long, long time. Not a malicious, mocking or condescending smile... No, this time his lips are stretched into a small, but genuine, honest smile.
And it's because of you.
Because he knows he got what he wanted so much. He has you again. He was resilient, he was patient and he was fair. He fought and, with his efforts, created a space just for himself within your heart. He knows you're still unhappy with everything that's going on, and no matter how much he wants to, he can't change that. He can only strengthen you to bear it. It can only burrow deeper into your body and your heart until you are able to forget the atrocities that are happening around you - the horrible things that he is doing. It's a gaping hole in your chest that leaves you continually bleeding, he knows, but the exposed cut is so sweet, and here he is, licking the wound like an animal, with all the violent, relentless gentleness he has to offer as the vengeful prince that he is.
He wraps his arms around you, pushing his cock back into your abused pussy in a deep movement that draws a broken sound from both of you, pulling you against his chest. He rubs his sweaty face against your throat, your face, your hair. His voice syrupy and thick as he whispers, "I love you."
Fuck. Aemond would never let you go.
#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen smut#ewan mitchell#aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen fanfiction#aemond imagine#aemond one eye#aemond x reader#hotd x reader#hotd aemond#prince aemond#aemond x fem!reader#dance of the dragons#aemond smut
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personally since I want to take a nice bite outta oscar (and you do too)
what about an oscar x gf!reader who just constantly bites him, not hard enough to leave a mark (thats only in bed) but just a little chomp
like he has an arm around her shoulder while talking to Lando and she just turns her head and *chomp*
lord knows i wanna give that man a nice little monch. just a little 🤏🏻 little bit
© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.
chomp | op81
something about oscar unlocked the habit within you. he’s just so… yummy. all the time. so one day you acted on the urge to bite him. you did it gently, just barely sinking your teeth into the skin covering the taunt muscle of his bicep when you were cuddled up together in bed. he liked it; encouraged it even, so you never really looked back.
instead of “pinch me,” he soon adopted the phrase “bite me” in its place. it was just an affectionate thing that you did when your feelings for him became so overwhelming words failed you. it happens more often than not— just looking at him and knowing he’s yours is enough to render you speechless.
his instant enjoyment of your gentle bites had you dismissing the behavior as normal quickly, so it now comes as a surprise to you when other people have a visceral reaction to it.
you never pay much mind to what people say on social media, particularly twitter, but almost every day you’re greeted with the sight of you being caught biting oscar and hundreds of people asking what your problem is. it mostly stemmed from the one time that oscar asked (more like begged) you to leave a mark in the throes of a passion-charged moment that happened the night before qualifying and thus it was clear as day to everyone in the paddock the next morning.
you were usually careful to bite parts of him that were almost always concealed. his thighs, his hips, his shoulders, the junction between his shoulder and neck. but he’d been adamant that you bite his neck and leave a mark, and who were you to tell him no? so the whole world ended up becoming privy to your little habit. but oscar never gave anyone the time of day when asked about it, so it never crossed your mind to stop.
now, lando had been the very first to tease him about that infamous mark on his neck, but he’d never been there to see it happen. until today.
oscar had insisted that you join him while he and lando were waiting to be called in for a race debrief, with the promise that he’d take you out for dinner afterwards. you’re always happy to spend extra time with your boyfriend, of course, so you were more than happy to agree.
except lando has a special talent for boring you out of your mind with extremely technical talk. and he loves to talk. you need something to do in order to not implode from boredom, and oscar’s arm is right there, wrapped around your shoulders, so you turn your head and lightly bite the thin skin of his wrist.
the sudden silence is deafening as lando stops talking in the middle of his sentence.
“i thought that was just a weird rumor. you actually bite him?” lando asks.
“um, yeah,” you reply slowly. “so?”
“got a problem with my girlfriend, mate?” you can feel the muscles of your boyfriend’s arm flexing around you as he tenses up a little.
“nope. no. not at all,” his teammate is quick to respond, hand reaching back to scratch his neck. “carry on. i’ll just act like i’m not here.”
so you do, biting him a little harder as a silent chill out. he just kisses your temple, stifling his laughter.
when it’s finally time for their meeting, you’ve traveled from oscar’s wrist all the way up to the inside of his elbow, grazing your teeth along his skin and inhaling his addictive scent. you’d happily do this for hours, and you pout when he separates himself from you.
as an apology, he leaves you with a parting whisper of, “you’re gonna bite me harder than that tonight, right?” that has your whole body heating up.
word count: 638
masterlist — join my tag list here!
note: hope u enjoyed this <3 definitely not self indulgent for myself and venus at all!!!
requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!
reblogs are greatly appreciated <33
dividers by @/saradika
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#aries answers#venus <3#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fluff#op81 fanfic#op81 x you#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#formula one x you#formula one fluff#formula one x reader#formula one imagine#formula one fanfic#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fluff#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic
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next of kin | S.R.
disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister
part two
who? spencer reid x fem!reader
category: angst
content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends?
word count: 3.33k
a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.
“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.
You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”
The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.
Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.
Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.
Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.
Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”
Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.
Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.
“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.
You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”
He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.
The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.
The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.
It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.
By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.
“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.
None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.
Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.
All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.
Maya. Maya. Maya.
Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.
You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.
Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.
Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.
The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.
Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.
You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.
They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.
By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”
In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.
Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.
“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.
Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.
That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”
You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.
“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.
Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.
Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”
“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”
Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”
Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.
He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.
Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”
In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.
You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.
At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”
Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”
Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.
“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.
The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.
Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.
Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.
“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.
Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”
The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.
“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.
He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”
Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.
He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.
Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”
Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.
This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.
Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.
You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”
“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.
Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”
He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.
You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”
Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”
It was the smell.
The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.
Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.
“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”
No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.
You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”
Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.
“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.
Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”
Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”
Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”
Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”
You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”
“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.
Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.
Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”
She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.
You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”
“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.
Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.
You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.
“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.
She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.
Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.
“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.
There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.
The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.
“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.
You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.
He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”
You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”
“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”
You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.
The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…
“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.
Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.
But Spencer was there to catch you.
part two
#criminal minds#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#written by margot#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fic#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid angst#criminal minds angst#spencer reid hurt/comfort#criminal minds hurt/comfort
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It's a Match! || 141 x reader
[ Chapter 1 ] || [ Chapter 3 ]
Pairing: Soap x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader
Words: 1K~
cw: a bit of dirty talking/innuendos
Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you?
Chapter 2: Johnny
“Oh, hello…” You remarked to yourself as your eyes locked into a stunning pair of blue eyes on your screen, stopping your mindless right-swipping. “...Johnny.”
“You’re 29… A soldier… Scottish… Are you friends with Kyle?” You mused playfully. “Let me guess, you’re a gym bro, aren’t you?” You asked sarcastically as you tapped your finger on the right side, skipping through his pictures. The first one immediately after was him lifting while wearing a weightlifting belt. “Yup… Mandatory gym pic.”
Chuckling to yourself, you snap a screenshot of his profile to the girls as well, sending it quick.
leah: @/mia Whatever good energy you sent its working. second hot guy in the last 5 minutes!
mia: i lit a CANDLE for this!!!!!
leah: there weren’t any handsome guys like this when i was on tinder?! 😫 UNFAIR. 🙄
you: blow it out then cause this is the 3rd actually.
leah: 3rd??? Where’s number 2???
you: didn’t think to snap a screenshot. hasn’t matched me back yet.
mia: has he posted a shirtless pic?
you: kyle did and this one idk but probably. need to check.
leah: Don’t forget to send it over.🥴
Shaking your head and laughing in amusement, you went back to Tinder, checking on ‘Johnny’. The mandatory gym pic was there… a couple of them in fact! And then the mandatory shirtless selfie. Or rather… The mandatory shirtless SELFIES. Plural.
Three of them… The first one was him just straight up wearing just a towel… And the next was him in a kilt… And the next was him with a button-up very much so unbuttoned.
“Oh, my, Johnny-John-John… You sure know how to woo a bird…” You joked to yourself.
You dragged your finger down to check his bio and immediately frowned. “Of course…” You trailed off with a disappointed frown as you snuck another spring roll into your mouth.
He might be stupidly attractive, but his personality… Gosh, he doesn’t know how to sell himself. Boring, boring, boring. “I work out and like video games!” You quipped mockingly and scoffed a bit.
“Artist.” You remarked when you reached the last of his profile’s tags, spotting that word in the hobby section. “An artist? You?” You asked your phone screen as if Johnny would come alive in it and answer you.
You’d admit, him calling himself an artist was intriguing enough, but normally that wouldn’t be enough to make you Swipe Right on him… But you’re not under normal circumstances. You promised your friends you’d Swipe Right on everyone so…
Your phone almost dropped out of your hand as soon as the ‘It’s a Match’ screen showed. “Of course… He’s probably swiping right on everyone as well…” Rolling your eyes, you go to click off the screen but accidentally enter DMs.
Johnny: ye have any scottish in you?
you: not that i know of.
Johnny: would ye like to? 🫦
Johnny: wait. wdym not that ye know of???
Johnny: i was trying to be filthy and now got me curious bonnie
“Fuckin’ hell…” You said as you set down your phone and covered your face before breaking into a fit of giggles.
The fact you had accidentally ruined his pick-up line and succeeded in stumping him got you very, very amused. Okay, maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as boring as you thought.
you: story for another time.
you: i walked right into that one tho. good job.
Johnny: no ye cant do that
Johnny: gotta tell me all about it now
you: i mean werent scottish people everywhere in the uk at one point?
you: i might be 1/370232103484320th scottish.
Johnny: would ye like some MORE scottish in ye then? 🫦
you: solid attempt again.
you: if you keep trying you might just get there.
Johnny: i intend to dont worry
you: soooo…
Johnny: so?
you: were you wearing underwear under the kilt?
Johnny: no
Johnny: why want a peek? 😏
you: i’m good
you: so ur an artist?
Johnny: i am
Johnny: ur fast at typing fuck
you: what kind?
you: keep up then!
Johnny: drawing
Johnny: im trying 🥴
you: can i see some?
Johnny: hanging with my mates difficult to text fast 😤
Johnny: idk if ull be in the mood to see anything after im done with ye
you: why? 🤨
Johnny: might be too tired and need to be cuddled to sleep 😏
you: oh fuck off.
Johnny: u just cursed me out
Johnny: i think m in love 😫
Johnny: gonna tell my mates i just met my spouse 🥴🥴
you: don’t give them any ideas.
you: haven’t even agreed to meet up with you.
you: haven’t been invited in the first place.
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Johnny: meet up with me 🙏
Your eyes widened at his enthusiasm and persistence. Okay, he was definitely not boring… It was actually kind of endearing and funny!
you: jc r u copypasting that?
Johnny: yes
Johnny: are ye going to or not
you: can i get back to you on that?
Johnny: ill wait for ye
you: sure you do that johnny
Johnny: ow the sarcasm burns
Concealing a chuckle, you clicked off the DMs page for the second time tonight… but, this time, you closed the app and focused on eating dinner.
Sure, this whole dating app thing was stupid, but at least you were enjoying yourself.
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#ikea writes 💚#it's a match! fic#cod modern warfare#cod fanfic#captain john price#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#text story#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#soap x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mactavish x reader
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