#this is not an endorsement it's a warning
Note
Hey! I really loved your Covkwarming with Alastor Story. Would you maybe want to make one where Alastor is busy and reader wants his attention? Maybe he even snaps at her only to later search for her and make it up to her? With lots of fluff and maybe nsfw?
Hope you have a nice day
-🌸🦇
BRODI! You waited a whole month for this and I AM SO SORRY. I love and appreciate you and your request so much thank you very much for being patient, i really really loved this idea but dang april has been a crazy month for me, i hope you’re doing well and enjoy this fic it’s a longer one!
i’m actually really happy with how this turned out
warnings: SMUT 18+, angst, fluff, mean alastor, you guys fight, gaslighting girl boss alastor, established relationship (you were together before he went missing), loyal reader described, codependency kinda, some horror aspects?, descriptions of alastors dead food, alastor admits his emotions and issues in an alastor way, brief descriptions of reader having self sabotaging habits- drinking smoking/potsmoking too, GN reader although clit is used, penetrative sex, slow sex, swearing, alastor doesn’t like pillow talk lol i think that’s it but let me know not proof read
5.1K words
Alastor was locked up in his radio tower, exhausted as he sifted through various forms of media coverage from his battle. Vox, the little electronic weasel, had his entire affair with Adam recorded and broadcasted around, which was frightful for Alastors image. Not only had he been gone for seven years, but he’s helping with a hotel that endorsed goodness. Needless to say Alastor wasn’t doing okay, his ears were constantly pulled back, smile strained, and he kept blowing the lights up and down. Hell, his static was so violent it even gave him headaches.
Even his shadows at this point began causing chaos, his own anxiousness and frustration bleeding off into them. Alastors isolation caused you to be extremely worried, you weren’t there while he fought Adam, you should’ve been, because since then he’s not been the same. You saw it on TV, the one Vox had broadcasted. Try as he may, Alastor didn’t keep it away long enough for you to not see, there was always someone else putting it back out there.
You didn’t bring it up to him- not that you could; he was too overly consumed in his tower. Incessantly shutting down broadcasts, throwing out power, attacking minor demons for spreading the information. It made you feel so very many unfortunate emotions, never in your many years of being dead have you ever seen him so erratic and emotionally disturbed.
Alastor would play pretend in public but you knew him, as did Husk, the two of you could tell he was tense, strained, constantly ready to snap, his poise was harder to keep. Lucifer presence in the hotel didn’t help at either, constantly trying to get into it with Alastor, which only furthered his isolation. You began to feel extremely lonely, it was rare in hell anyone was a good shoulder to cry on, or ear to hear, but you got used to going to Al after a long day, laying your head on his lap as he caressed your face and hummed you tunes, now you were alone most the time. None of his silly jokes filled the air, no you barging into your shared room and him attempting to hide his messy eating, no soft jazz playing next to you as you slept, no shadows trying to scare you, nothing.
It was incredibly lonely and the time without him showed how emotionally dependent you were on him. You wondered if he felt the same lonesomeness without you around, or if he didn’t even want you around? Maybe he was too wrapped up in his feelings to realize you weren’t around him? Did he have the same need for you as you did him? Did he miss little things about you as you did him.
Throwing your body off the couch and standing pin straight, you cut your thoughts off by marching towards Alastors tower on the far end of the hotel. You hadn’t been up there once since the battle, so this was bound to be interesting, and anxiety inducing. You could already feel the worry prickling your finger tips, making you even more uncomfortable. Knocking at Alastors door was, well, underwhelming, there was no sound, no movement, no indication he was even in there. Even shouting out at him normally would’ve gotten him to at least respond by now, it was rare he left people hanging like that, it wasn’t how he was brought up.
So you decide to cross the boundary you knew he loathed; intrusion. You entered with your breath held tightly making your throat clench, walking in you meekly hummed out his name. “Al? It’s been a long couple of days, I was wondering if you wanted some down time?” Your eyes bounced around the dark room, papers on the floor, radio frequency buzzing harshly in your ears, the low buzz of what sounded like hospital lights, it was all very creepy
Wringing your hands you came up toward his large table connected with cables and speakers, on the table was cups of coffee empty and half drank, corpses and bones of unfinished mutilated deer, and the smell of blood was something that suddenly hit you nearly knocking you back. As you covered your nose with your wrist, you back up and bumped into something, turning around with incredible speed. Alastor was there, taller than usual with his bones looking sharp and broken in his skin, his smile was stretched gruesomely making you nearly grimace, his eyes as well, wildly glaring down at you black and soulless. “Uh, I missed you.” You squeaked curling into yourself just at the sight of him.
Alastor hasn’t ever looked like this in front of you ever, it was such an abnormal and alarming look for you to set your eyes on. Alastor let out a jagged breath, his antlers growing in size with a nasty crunching sound to accompany it. “You disturbed my work, and snuck in, all because you missed me?” Alastor bent down to grab your attention, your eyes flickering to meet his own. You nodded at him, and he only hummed in return, standing tall and walking around his desk to sit at his chair. You turned on your heel to follow his movements, biting your lip with worry. Sure you were anxious before as you typically got with anybody, you weren’t confrontational and you weren’t one to cross the boundary, although you never expected him to look so angry with you.
“Perhaps, if that’s the case, you should find yourself another demon; I cannot be surrounded by the meek and emotionally stunted. My work, my image, will always come first my dear. Now, get out.” Alastor enunciated every word with his hands rested under his chin, and his head cocked to the side. Your stomach dropped and your cheeks watered like you were about to be sick, immediately your eyes widened, noises falling out of your mouth as you attempted to grasp at the words you were trying to say. “S-You’re breaking up with me?” Your voice was a wreck, struggling to expel the words past the sob that wanted to rip out of you, the disbelief evident in your tone. Alastor stood from his seat and leaned toward your face over the table, your lip quivered as he did so, trying your hardest not to cry.
“Heavens no! I’m simply saying if you can’t handle being a secondary priority perhaps you should take some time alone, remember what it is to be your own person! I will not bend my rules for some silly relationship.” His tone dripped with condescension and he finished his sentence with a boop on your nose. The only thing your mind could conjure was ‘how dare he?’ you never felt so insulted by him before. You always put him first, you waited seven years for his return defending his role in hell, and he sees you as secondary to himself. Does that mean he would save himself before you? Was this relationship only about his own desires, his own cravings and you weren’t important? You must be too sensitive about this?
“So you won’t spare me a moment because some stupid TV proved you aren’t invincible? Grow up Alastor please,” You could help the rage that slipped out in between your words, fists clenching, eyes narrowing. Alastor hissed statically at you. “Don’t for a second get it twisted up in your pretty little head that you are special, you are just like every other disposable sinner, i suggest you monitor your tone with me, dear.” Alastor crackled, his voice more electric than you’ve ever heard before. Your frown was deep, the tears silently falling down your cheeks. You didn’t even know what to say, instead you just shrugged with your head low, and turned around silently leaving him behind.
The moment you existed his tower you ran, your brain screamed to get away before somebody could question what was wrong or what happened. You couldn’t stomach the idea of being seen like this, and you didn’t want Alastor to come out and catch you, so you took off. You exited out the back without a trace, wandering into the streets of the pentagram. Eventually you found yourself back at your old apartment, which you still paid for as you really don’t plan to continue living at the hotel. When you got there you were finally able to let everything settle in you, it felt like the sadness slipped into your bones and weighed you down further into your sofa.
You didn’t move for hours, and eventually you ended up falling asleep. You left without a word, without your phone and without any of your stuff. Of course Alastor was very aware he made the choice to say the things he did, but he didn’t mean them, and after a short bit of reflection he could understand it was just an emotional response to the fear of being vulnerable. As well as the anxious thought dancing in his mind about the what ifs, what if he were to die, what if his plan fails and the deal goes wayward and you’re left with the pieces of his mess? What if Vox targets you, what if others do, do the citizens of hell see him as some weak mush because he’s dating you?
It’s all what led him to exploding; insecurity. Even the thought of having such a low tier emotion made his blood boil, but as long as nobody knew about it, he would find a way to quell it. Alastor waited, not wanting to impose while you were still going through thee emotions. However things started getting worrisome by the next day, nearly thirty hours into being gone and the patrons had begun to question him. Obviously Alastor didn’t know, and instead opted to sway the topic away from you and instead to something else.
The week came and gone like a blur, Alastor hadn’t seen you since you came into his tower and the rest of the hotel had set out to look for you with no luck. Alastor kept to his tower, telling himself if you wanted to be away that was your choice; he wasn’t chasing you like some lost puppy. Though he did find himself briefly wondering if you were still alive, after all Vox was out there watching through cameras on every corner and Adam’s corpse went missing and wasn’t accounted for, there was many threats to your safety he hadn’t thought of before.
With a sigh of static frustration, Alastor flicked his hand giving the okay to his right hand shadow to go find you, he couldn’t stand his thoughts anymore. And so it did, within seconds the shadow zipped and zoomed knowing exactly where you were, not that you were trying to hide. It slinked up against the paint peeling wall of your apartment, watching you on the couch, news softly sounding out as you read a book. Your home was a wreck, looking as though you’ve had fits upon fits of rage and lacked to clean after. Dishes piled, laundry scattered all across the linoleum floors. Alcohol, pot and cigarettes were a hefty scent in the room, it didn’t accompany the damp mold smell well at all. Oh what a thing you’d become without Alastor! The shadow watched like a fly on the wall for varying moments, studying you and your state before vaporising into the floor and taking off back to its master.
Honestly, you weren’t expecting Alastor to come knocking at your apartment door, so when you swung it open expecting your usual delivery guy, you were shocked and you didn’t bother fixing your depressed appearance. “Goodness gracious my little dame it looks like you’ve been dragged through mud!” Alastor laughed boisterously using his microphone to push you aside and barge in. You stood aside speechless, watching as he stepped inside with his hands rested just above his tail, surveying the room around him. His neck cracked disgustingly, his body forward while his head faced you, his grin tamed. “What happened here?” The words were simple but his tone was confusing, you couldn’t tell if he was angry, suspicious, or worried. You sneered at him, lip twitching upward as you slammed the door and wordlessly returned to your spot on the couch.
“I didn’t expect you to search, work come first yknow.” Oh yes, you planned to milk the words he said against you to berate him and his attempts to make up, you were in hell for a reason after all. Alastor huffed- like a buck would, something uncharacteristic for him to do outside of being alone with you, which sickeningly made your heart flutter, he still trusted you in a way, did that mean you were still his? You always told him he was more deer then he’d like to admit and those huffs were one of those deer attributes. “Hm yes, but you’ve been quite the work, I hope you know.” You clenched your teeth, trying not to snap instantly, but you did send him a glare.
You muttered about how that didn’t make things any better when he snapped his fingers, all things garbage vanishing in a pinch, mold included. “Ah, much better! My mother always said the state of the house is the state of the mind!” A round of applause sounds from his microphone as he laughed, rounding the couch with a slow stride. “Tell me, would you like to talk?” It felt more condescending then genuine, the way he was bent forward with lidded eyes and an eased smile, like you were some child having a tantrum. “No, Al, you made what you said pretty fuckin clear, i don’t wanna be with you if I am some chore or job, or secondary whatever!- i wanna be your partner and you want me to be a pet? Yeah, no thanks.” You punctuated your sentence with a dramatic scoff, flopping back into the cushions with your arms folded protectively across your chest.
“Ahhh my little doudou,” Alastor chided, sitting himself flush to you, arm around the back of the couch to trap you near him. “I want you to listen to me, and listen to me closely because i will never admit this again!” Alastor exclaimed this with what sounded to be false confidence and a slight hint of exasperation. He pinched your chin in between his claws forcing you to look at him, and of course you did, what else were you to do? “I have become a fool, all across the pentagram, I’m held by ball and chain— the devil my dear! The devil is- some frazzled little nitwit with all the power and no ambition!” Alastors fist clenched at the mention of Lucifer, abandoning your chin to do so. “I was feared my dear, nobody dared to test my authority, and now i’m an assumed bellboy for the princess and her gaggle of misfits. You,” Alastor paused leaning in so close your noses touched.
“My dear, were the only one i actually wouldn’t mind being weakened for.” You couldn’t stop the comical ‘huh’ that gargled straight from your throat. “What does that even mean Alastor.” You whine throwing your head back bumping his arm as you did so, an unknowing invitation to slide it down, hand caressing your shoulder softly. “It means dear, I didn’t mean what i said, because i’ve already done those exact things in the past! I’ve missed countless radio shows from you, refrained from eating deer around you- for your sake. I’ve held you to me on every block knowing Vox could see us perfectly! You were my chosen weakness, darling, but with all these other useless sinners belittling my role in hell, i took it out on you,”
Pausing Alastors static faded in and out, you watched his eyes closely, but the real give away was the way his ear subtly tilted to the side looking like a sad puppy. “I felt what i said, I felt weak and I knew you needed me and didn’t want to feel this weakness anymore, so logically-” You scoffed with a small smirk, mockingly muttering ‘logically’ back at him. “-I had to try to appear as though I am what I originally intended to be.” He finished giving you a pointed look. Shifting your body to face him more, you analysed his body language and face. Typically- no matter how long you’ve been together- he was amazing at hiding his emotions, always seeming to be happy. It seemed like he let his guard down however, his eyebrows were furrowed and pointed upward, his smile tight, shoulders rigid and his breathing shallow. Anticipation was evident by the way his hoof tapped against the floor with beat.
You finally let you emotion reignite, the tears slipped down your face like rivers as you gently shook your head. “What did you intend to be?” You asked softly, an unattractive spit bubble forming as you opened your mouth. “A ruler of sorts, i suppose. Emotionless, cruel, untouchable. I tried to reaffirm to myself by being cruel to you my dear, that i was still a demon, not the altruist teddy bear they all dubbed me as.” Alastors form had finally slumped, sinking into the cushions alongside you, his head falling back gazing up at the ceiling. You caved just slightly at his admission, and rested your head on his chest near his armpit, your body sinking into his. Suddenly he perked up, looking down at you, you reflexively shooting your gaze up to him.
“Yknow they made a mockery of my speech as well my dear! Preposterous, darling, many sinners posted about me being ‘cringe’, my speech was ‘corny’, my dearest can you believe that?” You almost took offence to the fact he sounded more distraught over being made fun of rather than hurting you, but you reminded yourself that Alastor was trying to open up, and you weren’t gonna ruin that. “Is that why you were killing randos instead of overlords?” You asked feeling more relaxed than you had before, obviously there was many words in between you two unsaid, but you wanted to bask in the small talk you craved for so long from him just a little longer.
“Precisely. I’m proud you noticed.” You hummed with a small smile, your head resting back on his chest. “Why did it take so long for you to come?” Despite not even thinking he would, you now had the knowledge he didn’t actually hate you, and if he didn’t why’d he drag it out? “Pride,” What would’ve been a hoarse voice to any other demon, was a staticy robotic sound that crackled out of his chest. “This is way out of my comfort my dear, i didn’t and still don’t know what to say or do, and i don’t like being out of control.” You whimpered at that, curling up into him, your legs slinging over his thighs so you could cuddle up next to him. Immediately his arms engulfed you, pulling you into him with a happy hum, his neck craning to kiss your head softly.
“i missed you, you really hurt me, bad. Don’t do it again.” You state firmly though it was muffled by the fabric of his coat, the one you had your face nuzzled into. Alastor hummed out softly petting you on your head, just like he would before. “Never again doudou~, you have my word, and i promise to make it up to you.” Tiling your head upward you yanked at his colar, and he immediately ducked down meeting your lips at will. The kiss was soft and Alastor could feel the dampness from your tears on your chin against him. After a moment you both pulled away, although not far from eachother your lips were practically still touching.
“Why don’t I give you some attention my sweet doe.” Alastor cooed against your lips, you could hear the mischief in his tone as his hand pawed your hips. You blinked slowly at him, an instant twist of desire appearing low in your gut. “How?” Alastors grin widened for the first time since appearing at your door, and you feared you’d truly be in for it tonight. “Oh my, have i neglected your needs so long you need to inquire how?” Alastor question was rhetorical only furthered by the way he kissed his teeth with his index finger coming up to shake side to side. “That simply will not do!” Standing suddenly, with you in his arms, made you gasp and clutch onto him instinctively. You smacked his chest playfully, muttering to him about being too heavy, he however ignored you, walking toward your old room with his head held high.
The room in question was a mess, and a thick layer of dust coated every object that wasn’t being continually used, like the nightstand, and the lamp. Alastor didn’t care much though, he never did care whether you were messy or super clean he’d always snap his fingers to assist you, and that’s exactly what he did. Slowly around the room things cleared up, his shadows slunk into the room with strange looking candles setting a romantic tone for the room. The bed was remade neatly when he set you on it gently, watching your doe eyes stare up at him with a familiar intensity that always made him fidgety. You let him flop you down without complaint, after all it wasn’t always that Alastor seemed so interested in getting down and dirty.
Standing above you, Alastor grinned down at you with lidded eyes, letting his long fingers dance down his chest to undo his buttons. He wasn’t really a fan of trying to appear sexually appealing to those around him, he’d never admit how out of the ordinary, and awkward it felt, but he knew you. You were his. You were loyal. You waited seven years just for him, never spilling a single secret. Secretly, he was way more comfortable with trying to appear “sexy” for you, because he knew no matter what, you wouldn’t look at him any differently. Alastor shrugged off his jacket, his button down shirt open exposing his chest to you. “Y'know dear,” A bit of southern drawl slipped out, as the mask he wore slipped away with his jacket. “You give me a very special outlet i do not think i’d have with any other sinner, you’re too kind to me.” Pulling off his shirt, he folded it and set it aside, kicking off his slacks right after, leaving himself in his boxers and long socks.
You watched him undress with wide eyes, you wanted nothing more then being pressed against the warmth of him, absorbing his touch. You however stayed still, letting Alastor relax into the mood as he rid himself of clothes. Alastor sat on the edge of the bed, right beside your hips, his hand traced lightly up and down your torso, occasionally dipping down to your thighs. You felt tense at the touch, both anticipation and insecurity making you feel stiff. Suddenly his claw hooked around the band of both your undergarments and pants, his eyes flickering up to inspect you when he did so. “May I?” His voice was soft, the usual uncertainty present as he felt out of his realm. “Yes, please.” You sigh, your tone nearly whiny. “I missed you so much Alastor,” You admit hushed as his claws brushed down your thighs with your clothes. Once off, Alastor leaned down, giving soft pecks to your thighs, eyes staring up to you through his red lashes. “Yes dear, my life been painstaking without you.” He whispered against your flesh, sharp teeth dragging up past your hips, nose bumping the cloth of your shirt. Sitting up slightly, you were preparing to slid your shirt over your head when Alastors body slid between your legs, claws coming up to pinch and lift the fabric exposing your chest.
With him now face to face with you, leaned over your body, you caved. Your hands slid around his neck guiding him toward you slowly, your lips met instantly like two magnets being held just inches apart. It was a sweet kiss for the most part, your lips meshed against his as you let him control the pace, it was nice with Alastor you always had enough time for the heat to simmer and grow, making foreplay unnecessary most times because he naturally took his time. You raked your fingers through his hair, nails scratching up his scalp causing ripples of goosebumps down his arms. Alastor slipped his tongue delicately licked at your lip, brushing as soft as ever. You were a bit shocked at this, typically he wasn’t into french kissing, lamenting that the whole tongue thing was messy and disgusting feeling. However you didn’t fight him, only allowed him access, which he immediately took with ease slipping his tongue against your own.
His body collided into yours, nose bumping your cheek as he angled his head. Your hands slipped down his back, smiling against his lips at the feeling of his tail wagging back and forth making small gusts of wind against your fingertips. Alastor nipped at your lips in retaliation, hands roaming your body as he pushed his hips up to softly grind his hard on into you. You hummed at the feeling of him against you, angling your hips back and up pressing your wetness against his briefs. Your body was buzzing while Alastor slowly grinded himself down on you, his clothed head travelling between your folds and back up to poke at your clit. The kiss had broken as he continued on, your breathing shaky as you enjoyed the slow motion of him above you, his teeth scraping down the length of your neck.
Alastor couldn’t help the groan that bubbled out of him. Not only could he smell your arousal but he could smell just you. He pressed his face to the nape of your neck, kissing and inhaling, loving the smell you had naturally on your skin. He also got quite the kick out of hearing the blood rush through your veins, it made him feel feral knowing you would bare yourself to him so willingly, he had you around his finger. Alastor let his lips glide down your body, leaving bite marks down your chest and neck as he did so, hips still moving slowly against you. You had soaked his briefs making the fabric feel absent, clinging to every ridge and vein of his cock slide through your folds. “Please Al, I need you.” You whined pathetically, pressing your hips up into his. Alastors choppy breath warmed your collar bone, his forehead rested on your shoulder, eyes closed as he slipped his hand down, yanking himself out of his boxers.
Sometimes he felt like an untrained dog, he couldn’t help but want to hump into you without restraint, but that wasn’t him, that was desire, and he knew how to hold back. As he sunk into you, slowly, he breathed out the quietest of noises against you shoulder, basking in you. You could hear his quiet noises clearly since he was so close, you bite your lip at the sound of him, loving how he always let you see him so wrecked. When Alastors hips were flush with your own, your legs came up around his hips, his tail stiff, while your arms wrapped around his neck, your right hand dragging up his scalp to his ears. “I like hearing you, Alastor,” You gasped as he jolted into you, like an involuntary reaction to your praise. “It makes me feel you.” You finished breathlessly. Alastor hummed against you, setting his pace slow and deep, barely pulling away before he pushed hard back inside you.
Your eyes were wide as he continued this rhythm, to you it was incredibly overwhelming, he never left you vacant always hungry to fill you right back up with him. His pants against you were also adding to your arousal, his eyelashes fluttered against your skin ever now and again as he attempted to contain himself. You knew he was sort of embarrassed with himself feeling pleasure, so you never egged him on when he did start making noise, but lord you wanted more. You tugged Alastors hair softly, pulling him up for a sloppy opened mouth kiss. He barely opened his eyes as he mushed his lips against yours, snaking his tongue against your own, bucking up faster into you at the warmth of your mouth. “I missed you, i love you,” You cried against his lips pathetically, your body’s both rocking on the bed as Alastor hurried his pace.
Alastor let out a low guttural noise, something from the back of his throat making your toes curl, pulling at his hips with your legs. “I couldn’t- stand you being away, dear.” Alastors face was inches from your own, forehead rested on yours, lips brushing against each other as he spoke. “Never again will i be such a fool, you’re mine forever.” Alastor growled through his clenched teeth, claws ripping into the mattress as he spoke. Your mouth hung open, eyebrows raised as you tried to from some sort of praise, but now his eyes were open looking down at you with such intensity and emotion, and his pace fast hard putting your body straight into the mattress. You didn’t even feel your orgasm coming on when it did, your body arching up into his, crying out his name alongside pleas.
The display of you in front of him was so pornographic, something he wasn’t fond of seeing but now understood why people were. You were gorgeous right now, your face red, your eyes watering, your body folded up towards his, all the scars, folds marks on your body, all for his eyes only. Groaning loudly, he fell back into his favourite place, your neck, and let out a deep breathless static moan as he came. You clutched him the entire time through watery blurred eyes, enjoying the feeling of him inside you post orgasm. Pulling away, Alastor was quick to pull out and away, snapping his fingers he began to clean you with a cloth. “Disgusting of me,” He muttered, seemingly angrily. “No, it was good Al, you’re allowed to. You’re not disgusting and neither was the sex, believe me.” You coo, sitting up from your position, a dopey look on your face. In a snap, Alastor was redressed as were you, in leisure clothing. “We’re going back to the hotel to sleep my little doe.” Alastor spoke softly, lending his hand to you, humming you took his hand letting him take you through his magic, back to the hotel. You knew Alastor didn’t like to lay sticky in the remnants of sex like many others, and probably would push you to shower before getting in his bed. But that way okay, you loved him regardless, and you really missed having his attention.
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false god
spencer reid x fem!bau!reader
summary: it's never a good idea to reminisce about a relationship, especially one that ended with betrayal left you with a permanent scar
word count: 1.2k
warnings: angst, no happy ending, major character injury, talks of general CM related violence and murder (nothing graphic), jeid you squint but its not endorsed lol
a/n: wrote this in an hour when i was feeling sad. its not proof read and i lowkey don't love it but whomp whomp
She always thought that the ground looked so far away just after take-off. Everyone below looked like specs of dirt that you had to really focus on to see. How insignificant everything looked compared to the vastness of the sky above. The illusion of importance shattered by the cover of clouds.
Pulling the blind down she sat back in her seat, headphones drowning out the noise in her head. The jet was silent, too focused in quiet contemplation of the reading material in front of them.
Her body instinctively leaned slightly to the left, seeking the comfort it once found in his embrace. But the illusion was shattered, and she knew that no matter how much she wanted to, she could no longer lean into the familiarity. She pushed her body towards the window, forcing her eyes out to the clouds.
Her thoughts, once filled with his presence, felt unmoored.
Now she could focus wholly on work. But the space that thoughts of him once filled was now left behind and filled with a silence that echoed through her. She was alone with the sky, the clouds, the vast expanse of the world below, and her thoughts.
His scent still lingered, he’d spent so long in the seat next to her that it must have melded with the fabric. A mix of pine and the cold winter morning air. She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping, sliding down her cheek. She was left with nothing but the ghost of his presence, a cruel reminder of what once was.
But now, the seat remained cold and empty. Even the scent of him, hugging her senses, used to be a source of comfort, was now a bitter reminder of the fallout between them. She hugged herself as if trying to fill the void as vast as the sky.
She forced herself to breathe, each inhale a sharp reminder of the love that was no longer hers. But it felt different now, hollow and cold as if the warmth he once provided had faded.
You see, Spencer Reid had broken her heart, and he’d done it easily.
Spencer Reid had chosen to protect someone else over her.
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The takedown was supposed to have been simple.
She turned her head slightly, the dust from the room seemed to have uprooted and created a cloud of mist. Morgan looked like he was running towards her. Why was he running towards her? Why was she on the ground? Why did everything feel so cold? It was the middle of July, she’d been warm in her Kevlar vest. Why were her fingers so so cold?
‘Agent down!’
The words echoed in her ears. It was as if the fog cleared and she tried to sit up, pain lit up her body like electricity before going numb. Suddenly everything seemed so silent. The world shifted, she could feel the cold concrete on her back as clearly as if it were in her bones.
Morgan was fast, it must have only taken him seconds to get to her. Which was odd, she’d been standing next to Spencer, but she couldn’t see him from her line of sight. She tried to force herself up again. only to be met with Morgan’s strong hands pushing on her shoulders.
‘No, don’t move.’ She turned her head to the side and through the haze of what was happening she saw something that made her eyebrows furrow in confusion. Maybe she’d hit her head. She must have hit her head.
Spencer was standing in front of JJ, his whole body poised like a shield protecting her. His arms around her shoulder, her hands gripping the front of his vest. Then the confusion unravelled like a loose thread, tugged on.
Spencer had moved to protect her. He’d left her side to protect JJ from the Unsub’s shooting. He’d actively moved further away from her to go and stand in front of JJ. But he wasn’t in love with JJ. He was supposed to be in love with her, so why had he gone out of his way to protect JJ? Was he in love with JJ?
They’d always been close, she knew that. But this? This felt more than friendship, you don’t dive in front of just a friend instinctively if the supposed love of your life is right there in the line of fire. Surely, your instinct is to follow your heart, is that what Spencer had done? Had he followed the true line of his heart?
She wanted to ask him why. Why he had done this? But her voice had deserted her, her throat drowned in icy silence. She felt the darkness creeping in, wrapping around her like a shroud.
The pain of the betrayal was raw, every nerve in her body seemed to buzz with it. She felt like a marionette whose strings had been cut, left to crumble under the weight of her realisation.
Morgan was next to her, holding her, placing his weight on her torso, he was lit up in a golden halo and his eyes looked like they were gleaming with fear and un-spilt tears.
‘Where’s the damn medic?!’ He shouted backwards in what must have been the general direction of the team.
‘It’s five minutes out.’ The voice was level, in charge. It must have been Hotch, but her eyes were getting too heavy to check.
She wanted to tell Morgan to stop looking so scared, to assure him she'd pull through like always, but the words died in her throat. Her breath hitched as a new wave of pain washed over her.
'Hang on,' Morgan pleaded, 'just hang on.'
She could hear Spencer, his voice sounded panicked, high pitched and his breathing thready. He was muttering something that sounded like an apology and a lot of cursing or praying to God. She couldn’t tell.
She wanted to reach out, to comfort him, but the strength had left her body. The edges of her vision were blurring, and the last thing she heard was Morgan's desperate plea echoing in her fading consciousness.
'Stay with us,' a voice commanded, each word punctuated with a raw desperation. But the darkness was too inviting, too persistent. And as the world around her faded, she couldn't shake off the sinking feeling that something irrevocably had changed.
----------------------------------------------------------------------
The hum of the engine lured her out of her memory. Maybe it was her fault. She’d loved Spencer like it was breathing, had worshipped at the altar of his love, only to find it empty. It was clear he hadn’t done the same, that convenience was simply his reason.
The false god she had created of him had fallen, shattered into pieces. The truth of his mortality, his flawed humanity, had never been so palpable. The feeling was both liberating and terrifying.
She looked out at the sky and the world below, the vast expanse seeming to mirror the emptiness within her. Emptiness echoed in her ears, filling her with a sense of loss that was almost unbearable.
The scar below her left collarbone throbbed beneath her shirt, it could almost be mistaken for heartache.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic#criminal minds angst#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction#cm fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x self insert
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Blonde Phase
Renjun x gn reader
summary: spontaneous hair decisions always end in regret. that's what you expect to hear when you tell renjun you're bleaching your hair, but instead you find support, and even his help. you should appreciate his wholehearted support but instead it has you wondering: why doesn't he care?
genre: fluff, minimal angst, technically they're in grad school but that's not particularly relevant, non idol au,
warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, spontaneous hair decisions (i do not endorse), lmk if I missed any
wc: 4.4k
a/n: in the immortal words of charles boyle, the most intimate thing you can do with a lover is wash their hair. yknow i made fun of him for that until i wrote this. i see it. also its been so long since ive finishing anything, pls forgive me if this is bad. renjun i love u. as always I'd love to hear what you think <3
“I’m bleaching my hair.” If you say it fast enough, Renjun won’t be able to talk you out of it. The plastic bag swings around your wrist as you walk across the parking lot. “I’ve already bought the bleach and gloves and stuff, and I’m going to do it, today.”
He’s quiet for so long you check to make sure the call hasn’t dropped. “Okay.”
You almost drop your phone. “Okay?”
“Yeah,” he says, drawing the word out. “Was I supposed to say something else?”
“Um, yeah?” You say. “You have opinions about literally everything. You talked me out of buying those pants two days ago.” You finally get to your car, tossing the bag onto the passenger seat and half-falling behind the wheel.
“That’s because they were made of polyester, and the thrift store was still charging $15,” he says immediately. “That was a scam.”
“Money is temporary, drip is forever.”
“Those pants would have lasted a year max, before they fell apart, and you still haven’t learned how to sew so you wouldn’t even be able to mend them or upcycle them.”
“You know what, I didn’t buy the pants, so this fight is moot,” you say. You set the phone on speaker, turning the engine on to blast the AC.
“Well, not moot. Technically I won,” Renjun says.
“I’d respect you more if you weren’t insufferable.”
“Here I was thinking you appreciated my insight,” he says. “You even asked for it.”
“I did not!”
“You literally asked about bleaching your hair.”
“I said I was surprised you didn’t have an opinion, not that I wanted to hear it,” you say.
“Semantics,” Renjun says. “So what time do you want to come over?”
You frown. “Tonight?”
“The roommates are out of town for the whole weekend, and I have way better ventilation,” he says. “I’d much rather bleach it without passing out.” He pauses. “You do want help, right?”
“Honestly, I was not expecting support. I was fully ready to fight you on this,” you say.
He snorts. “Come over whenever, I'm not doing anything today.”
“See you in twenty minutes.” You hang up, feeling a strange ball of tension roll around in your gut. That was… too easy? Renjun always has something to say about your admittedly impulsive tendencies. But if he’s going to help you’re not going to reject it—knowing Renjun he’s probably already watching Youtube videos and learning more than you will ever know about bleaching hair.
And it’s Renjun. When have you done anything without his help?
.
.
Renjun opens the door wearing a wearied expression. He doesn’t bother to greet you or even smile, just unlocks the door and steps to the side.
“Hi to you, too,” you say, trading your shoes for the spare slippers resting by the doormat. You follow Renjun into the space that serves as kitchen, dining room, living room, and Jaemin’s miniature gym, with weights and mats stacked next to the television.
“Who the hell clogs a toilet and then leaves for the weekend,” Renjun says.
You set down your plastic bag full of hair products and frown. “That’s disgusting.”
Renjun leans against the counter. “And you didn’t have to spend the last forty minutes trying to unclog it.”
“So which of the guys are you going to murder?” You try to guess, running through his roommates: you find it hard to believe Jaemin would do such a thing. Jeno maybe, and Donghyuck would certainly think it’s funny. But, in all honesty, it could have been any of them.
“Don’t know,” Renjun says, “but knowing them, they’ll make a pact to protect each other.”
“Seriously?”
Renjun pauses, gaze sheepish. “It’s what I did when I accidentally killed Jaemin’s little succulent that survived his college dorm.”
You fake a gasp, placing a hand over your chest. “Every day I learn something new about you. That’s devious.”
“I was drunk!” Renjun says, holding up a finger. “And Jeno and Donghyuck pushed me into it, so it was equally their fault.”
“If you say so.” You glance around the apartment. “Where are they all?”
“Jaemin’s visiting family, Jeno has a soccer tournament, and Donghyuck said he’s going camping with Yangyang.” Renjun says, counting off with his fingers.
“Donghyuck and Yangyang are friends?”
“Yeah, according to them they bonded over dealing with me.”
“Those were their exact words?”
“Dealing with my ‘stupid ass,’” Renjun says.
“That’s more on brand.”
Renjun nods.
You think about Yangyang, Renjun’s friend from when he was a kid. You’ve met him a few times now, especially since he’s moved half an hour away from Renjun. He’s fun, always bringing out a chaotic side of Renjun whether it’s dancing on a bar or bringing out angry-Renjun. But Yangyang and Donghyuck?
“That’s a terrible friendship. They’re going to ruin you.”
Renjun nods again, but you see the smile hiding in his eyes. He can rant all he wants, you know he’s excited his friends are getting closer with each other.
You point at the bag. “So where are we doing this?”
You half expect him to lecture you about rash hair decisions but he just gestures to the kitchen. “I figure right here should be fine. The tiles should be pretty easy to clean and probably could use some bleach anyway.”
He drags the chair with a rickety leg from the dining table. You dig through the bag and set everything on the counter. While Renjun cracks a window open, you begin to mix the developer and the bleach, curling your lip at the sharp scent. Renjun joins you, pulling on a pair of gloves.
“Wow that’s strong,” he says, wincing.
“Yeah,” you say. “Definitely a good idea to do it here.”
When the powder is finally combined, you sit on the chair, Renjun following behind you. You section off your hair together, then he grabs the bowl and the brush.
He holds the thick paintbrush brush up against your hair, glancing at you, giving you one last chance to back down. You give him the nod of approval and he shifts back to focusing on your hair, brushing the bleach into it as carefully as he spreads paint on a canvas. He works section by section, carefully drenching your hair with the creamy solution.
“So, are you going to tell me why you decided to do this?”
You can’t resist turning and glancing at him. “I thought you approved.”
“I didn’t try to talk you out of it,” he says, “that doesn’t mean I’m not curious about how you came to this decision.”
You nod until Renjun uses his gloved hand to hold your head straight. “I suppose that’s fair.”
You pause, trying to find the right words. But you find yourself drifting back to Renjun. Why didn’t he ask this before the bleach was in your hair? It’s not like him to keep his opinions to himself. When you first met him, he was yelling at Donghyuck for going to a philosophy seminar just to fight with the notorious bigot of a professor (which Donghyuck did and then got kicked out, and proceeded to get the professor suspended). You only knew Mark back then, a friend from another class who invited you to meet some of his other friends in the dining hall. When Renjun turned to ask what you thought, you said Donghyuck should do what he thinks is right. Renjun didn’t hesitate to call you an idiot then. So why isn’t he calling you an idiot now?
To his credit Renjun doesn’t rush you. He continues to paint the bleach into your hair, content to wait for you to figure out an answer. Except you’re thinking about all the wrong questions. Like, seriously, why do you want him to call you an idiot?
“I want a change,” you finally say. “I’m stuck in a degree that will make me absolutely no money when I graduate, I can’t afford to break my lease, and don’t have any major relationships that need upheaving, so, hair.”
“‘A change?’” Renjun repeats. “Like, you woke up this morning and thought, today I’m going blonde?”
“Like, I have this feeling in my chest, this aching feeling that there’s something I need to do, someone I’m supposed to be, something more than the person I see in the mirror but I’ve made my decisions and I’m happy with my decisions and I genuinely like who I am. So, hair.”
You see Renjun’s hand falter out of the corner of your eye, halfway between the bleach mixture and your hair. He freezes for a heartbeat then continues to move, lifting some hair off your ear, careful not to brush the bleach onto your skin.
“‘So, hair,’” he says.
“Are you really going to repeat everything I say?”
This gets a short laugh from him. “I think the fumes are getting to me already.” He pauses, setting down the brush and stepping in front of you. “For what it’s worth, I like who you are, too. I’m really glad we’re friends.”
You smile at him. “Me too,” you say. “I definitely would have fucked up trying to bleach this on my own.”
.
.
“There’s still some bleach left,” Renjun says after he finishes with your roots. “You’re sure you don’t want your eyebrows to match?”
“Why don’t we do your eyebrows,” you say. “Better yet, why don’t we shave them off?”
Renjun sets down the brush. “Okay, no eyebrows.”
You grin at him. “That’s what I thought.”
He helps you get a plastic bag wrapped securely over your head, then sets the timer.
“What do you want to do for the next half hour?” You ask. “Preferably something that requires little to no movement.” You gesture to your head. “We’re not winning any frisbee tournaments tonight.”
“It was one time,” Renjun mutters, shaking his head and stepping around you plop down onto the couch. “We can watch something.”
You follow him, sitting on the other side, a cushion between you. The space feels strangely empty. Though you’ve spent plenty of time alone with Renjun, even alone with him at his apartment, the silence is usually interrupted by one of the guys getting bored of playing League, or coming back because they can’t go out to a bar without someone forgetting their ID, or in desperate need of Renjun’s expert advice (read: Jeno never remembers to ask Renjun to look over his submissions until 12 minutes before they’re due). The cushion between you never stays empty for long but the moments stretch on, only making the distance feel greater.
You wonder, not for the first time, how long it’s been since you’ve thought of Renjun as just a friend. If he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much about what he thinks. And if he was just a friend, you wouldn’t care so much that he suddenly doesn’t think.
You sneak a glance at him, fiddling with the remote for a couple seconds before realizing he grabbed the wrong one. He’s certainly always been handsome—that was undeniable from the moment you met him. But more than just being good looking, it’s Renjun himself. Not just those dark eyes, but the way they burn with passion (even when he’s arguing about the proper number of appetizers to order). It’s his perfectly shaped lips, the way they betray how he feels with a slight curve up or down—and his smile. Always, always his smile, beautiful and breathtaking even though you’ve seen it a thousand times.
He turns, a little furrow in his brow. “What?”
“Hm?”
“You’re looking at me funny,” he says. “Did I get bleach in my hair or something?”
You turn to face the TV, trying to pay attention to the show Renjun chose. “I wasn’t looking at you funny,” you say. “I wasn’t even looking at you.”
“If you say so,” Renjun says, “but if there’s a blonde spot anywhere in my hair, I’m so making you pay for it.”
You shake your head. Where the hell did those thoughts come from? Renjun, more than a friend? Sure, you’re close with him and sure, he’s objectively attractive, but you’ve never had those thoughts before. Well, at least not sober.
“Um, why are we watching Singles Inferno?”
“Because I asked and you were too busy not staring at me to answer, so I put it on,” Renjun says. “And don’t you dare try to tell me you don’t like it. I saw you rant on your Instagram story the other day.”
“Okay, but you don’t get it,” you say. “This bitch really has the audacity to to—”
“I saw your post,” Renjun says. “Believe me, I get it.”
“If you didn’t want to hear about it you should not have turned it on, because now I can’t stop,” you say. Renjun rolls his eyes but even as you delve into a full on essay about the horrible men particularly common in dating shows, you see the corners of his lips tilt up into a smile.
.
.
The timer goes off halfway through an episode.
“Saved by the buzzer,” Renjun says. “I’m putting a ban on anything reality TV related for the next three hours.”
“You’re the one that brought it up,” you mutter without any real annoyance. Despite his banter, Renjun dutifully listened to your rants, and even got mad along with you.
You drag a chair to the sink while Renjun drapes a towel over your shoulders. He puts on gloves and unwraps the bag, letting your hair fall into the empty sink.
“Close your eyes,” Renjun says gently. He tilts your head back, cupping the back of your head for a moment before pulling the head of the sink faucet out. He runs the water, long enough for you to peek your eyes open.
You’ve gotten used to seeing Renjun focused. He gets a little furrow in his brow, always glaring at his work. Before you were friends, you used to think he was actually angry, that his frowns and short tone were real. You’ve learned since then, it’s not his emotions, it’s his passion. The frown only comes out when he’s focused, trying to be perfect. When he cares.
“Unless you want bleach in them, close your eyes,” Renjun mutters, with absolutely no malice behind the words. His eyes shift to meet yours and that’s how you know you’re right. He can glare and bluster all he wants, he can’t hide his eyes, warm and shining. Like when he’s looking at his art, his gaze is a combination of soft and intense, creating something stronger than affection. Except he’s not looking at his art, he’s looking at you.
You squeeze your eyes shut, feeling your heartbeat pick up. Despite every attempt to shut down the thoughts, they race through your head, a stampede grown out of control. Renjun, who you’ve only known a year and a half but who has become one of your closest friends. Renjun, who never fails to share the only opinion you really care about. Renjun, who you can’t imagine life without. Renjun, who you’ve never dared to imagine life with.
He places a hand on your forehead, bringing the faucet closer to rinse your roots while keeping the water from pouring onto your face. You prepare for a cold shock but the water that soaks into your hair is the perfect temperature—not scalding hot, not freezing cold. Some water sprays over his hand, falling onto your eyelids and cheeks.
“Sorry,” Renjun murmurs. He holds the head farther away, running his fingers gently through the roots of your hair. He’s so close you can feel his breath, warm against your temple. You can feel his body, hovering over yours, and maybe it’s just your imagination, but warmth seems to emanate from it.
His friends would laugh at you if you described Renjun as soft to their face, but it’s the only adjective that captures the way he works the water through your hair. Soft and gentle and careful and nothing like the Renjun that has to corral everyone into his car at 3 in the morning. And yet this Renjun doesn’t feel like a stranger to you.
Washing your hair takes a lifetime, but as soon as he steps away and turns off the water, you miss it. You miss him, even though he’s only a couple feet away.
“You can open your eyes now,” he says. As soon as you do, he tosses a towel at you. It hits you in the face before you can get your hands up.
“Hey!”
“Sorry,” Renjun says, not sounding sorry at all. He manages to hold back the laugh but still grins at you, unashamed. He steps forward and pats your face dry, with the same gentleness as before, though there’s still a mischievous glint in his eyes. You yank the towel away before he gets any ideas, drying off your face on your down and wrapping it around your hair. You wring it out a couple times before letting go, doing your best to get it to fall evenly around your head.
You raise your eyebrows at Renjun. “Okay, how bad is it?”
“Okay, first of all, I’m insulted that you think there’s any way I’d fuck up you hair,” Renjun says. “And it looks really good. Blonde suits you.”
You take a deep breath and pull out your phone, studying yourself in the mirror and… he’s right. The color is even, somewhere between blonde and orange that is unavoidable when using bleach. Radical hair changes generally end in tears but looking at yourself in the mirror, you don’t feel the usual dissonance. The hair is different but somehow more familiar than the “normal” you that doesn’t feel right anymore.
“I’m right,” Renjun says.
You smile. “Yeah, you are.” You put down your phone, meeting his eyes. “Thank you, Renjun.”
“For what?”
“Doing all of this for me,” you say.
“It’s the least I could do,” he mumbles. “You’re my friend.”
You shake your head. “Thank you anyways.”
Renjun just shrugs and grabs the bowl, rinsing out the bleach in the sink. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he’s avoiding your eyes.
You do your best to clean up the bleach from the floor, busying yourself until Renjun finishes. You wonder if you’re imagining the tiles getting a little bit whiter. Finally, he turns off the water and glances at you.
“You’re really happy with it?” He asks, sounding more like he doubts you rather than changing his opinion.
“Yeah,” you say, standing up. “I think it’s the ‘me’ of right now, you know?”
“Not really.”
“Like, I feel disjointed, and blonde hair is definitely not me, but it's the me that feels kind of all over the place, so even though it doesn’t look like me, it looks like me.” You wring your hands together, fingers tinged red.
“That makes no sense,” Renjun says, “but I think I get what you mean.” He smiles. “And I’m glad. I wouldn’t want you to have any regrets.”
So he did think this was a potential mistake? Why didn’t he say anything?
Renjun turns back to the sink, but before he can turn the water on, your voice calls his name. “Renjun?”
“Hm?” He doesn’t turn around.
“Why didn’t you fight me on this?”
He doesn’t move for a long moment. You wish you could see his face. “I have been told by certain people,” he begins, which is code for Donghyuck and Yangyang certified their position as Renjun’s worst nightmare. He turns to face you, wiping his hands on a towel.
“That I have a tendency to be overly opinionated in a generally negative direction. And I thought about it, and I realized I'm never really fully supportive, whether it’s a big decision, or, like, coffee, and I’ve always been this way, but, apparently, it’s especially… apparent with you.” He frowns. “This is all coming out wrong. I’m trying to say that it’s different when I’m around you. I’m different.”
Your eyes jump between his, trying to decipher what he’s saying. “Different?”
“I care a lot about you,” Renjun says, “more than anyone, actually.”
“Oh.” You blink once, twice. “Wait, you like me?”
Renjun’s eyes shift to the floor. “Yeah.”
You can’t help but let out a short laugh, reeling at the absurdity of it all. Renjun likes you? But he’s Renjun. Even though he’s the most common main character in your daydreams, you never once realistically thought he might be fantasizing about you too. But he likes you.
“I really didn’t want to say anything, I mean, before anything else you’re my friend, and I don’t want to ruin that,” Renjun says rapidly. “We’re good friends, and I really didn’t want to be the guy that pretends to be your friend but just wants to date you the whole time, that’s really not what I was trying to do, it’s just—”
“Renjun.” You put a hand on his shoulder and he freezes mid sentence, mouth still hanging open a little. Before he can move, you lean closer, the type of line you’d only dare to cross in your dreams.
“I’d like to kiss you,” you say softly. He blinks, eyes darting between your eyes and your lips.
“I’d like that,” he finally breathes. So you kiss him.
It starts light, his lips exactly as you imagined—soft and warm. His arm works its way around your waist, pulling you closer. The other works its way into your hair, still wet and sticking to your head. Renjun kisses like he’s been planning this for a long time, and maybe he has. Every movement is slow and careful, until he’s stolen all your air and even then you don’t want to pull away.
Your bravery fades the minute you meet his eyes. You bury your face into his chest, your cheek resting against your own hand. Renjun wraps both of his arms around you, holding you snugly in place.
“I like you, too,” you say into his chest. It’s the cowards route but if you look him in the eyes the words will never come out. “If it wasn’t obvious.”
“It wasn’t actually,” he says softly. “I think I drove all of my friends insane trying to figure out whether I should confess or not.”
“They all know?” You groan. “We’re never going to hear the end of this.”
“Yeah.” When Renjun laughs, it shakes your whole body. You can feel the rumbling, overtaking his heartbeat. “It’s okay though. It’s worth it.”
You turn your head, emerging from the sanctuary of his chest and tucking your head so that you can see his face. He smiles at you with the familiar warmth you’ve come to expect.
“Yeah,” you say, “it really is.”
Renjun grins.
“Your hair on the other hand…” He says.
“I thought you liked it!”
“I like it,” Renjun says, “but when has Donghyuck ever liked a single change to anyone’s hair?”
“Since when do you care what Donghyuck thinks?”
“I’m just saying now that we’re officially dating, my friends are going to be extra annoying,” Renjun says.
“Extra annoying? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Don’t underestimate them.”
You groan, pressing your face back into his chest. “It’s not too late to get some hair dye.”
“You are not changing your hair because of my dumbass friends,” Renjun says.
“You like it?”
“You like it,” he says. “That’s the only opinion that really matters.” He pauses then adds, “But yeah. I like it.”
You grin, lifting your head to kiss his cheek. “Maybe we should dye your hair too.”
Renjun snorts. “Oh yeah?”
“We could have matching couples hair.”
He laughs out loud this time. “Maybe we should just get some shirts.”
“Three minutes of dating and you already want matching shirts? Huang Renjun, be honest.” You push off of him until you can place your hands on his shoulders and look him in the eyes. “Are you obsessed with me?”
“Yes,” he says, layering his voice in sarcasm that still isn’t enough to hide the truth of the admission. “All day every day, all I think about is you.”
“Well, see, that can’t be true because if you were that obsessed and I’m this close, you would already be kissing me because—” You forget whatever you were going to say, but it doesn’t really matter. Not when Renjun is kissing you like this. Your hands at his shoulders slink around his neck, while his wrap around your waist, leaning so close to you, you feel your back begin to dip.
Huang Renjun is poison, the kind that turns into a heart-shaped puff of pink when the bottle is opened. You melt into his kiss and it’s still not enough. You could die, right this instant, and you don’t think you’d notice. Death itself wouldn’t be able to tear you away from this moment.
“Renjun!” Donghyuck’s voice thunders through the kitchen. “How dare you? You bastard, you’re cheating?”
You jump apart, turning to see him looming in the doorway. His glare settles on you, and you see the exact moment he realizes he recognizes you.
“Jesus Christ, you could have knocked or something,” Renjun says.
“I live here too,” Donghyuck says automatically. He squints, then looks at Renjun, then back at you. “YN? Your hair is blonde.”
For some reason, you raise your hand and wave at him. “Hey!”
“Oh my god!” Donghyuck cries. “Yangyang owes me thirty dollars!” He races back out the door, screaming something that’s lost as the door swings shut.
You glance at Renjun. “Cheating?”
He frowns at the door, still a crack open. “Did he… seriously think you were someone else? That I was cheating on my unrequited crush?”
His eyes shift to yours. A heartbeat passes and you burst into laughter. His friends might be annoying, but they’re still endearing. You press a messy, smile-infested kiss to his lips and wonder if you’ll ever get used to the giddy feeling.
There’s plenty messy in your life, plenty to doubt. But watching Yangyang and Donghyuck drag their backpacks in (apparently Donghyuck forgot his power bank and they decided to give up on camping) as they attempt to interrogate Renjun on every detail, you can’t help but feel like it doesn’t really matter. You don’t doubt Renjun. You don’t doubt blonde suits you. And you don’t doubt the power of a last minute hair decision, not anymore.
thank you for reading!! likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated
#🌟 stars galaxy#nct#nct dream#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#nct reader#nct fanfic#nct dream fanfic#nct dream fluff#nct fluff#renjun#renjun fluff#huang renjun#nct renjun
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content warning: cheating. i do not in any way condone or endorse this behavior. this is purely fantasy. i suppose this is sort of modern!anakin, but thats up to you guys.
♱ ‧₊˚ “don’t even think about answering.”
bent over his couch, anakin skywalker scowls disapprovingly while he pistons his dick into you. his metal arm holds you up by your hair as you stare at the incoming call from your boyfriend. ex-boyfriend. situationship? him. whatever it was. but, fucked out and still angry with him, you ignore the man fucking you from behind and click on the blaring green answer button. anakin swears from behind you.
it takes a second for you to say something. he slows his thrusts when the call connects, the stretch of his cock rendering you speechless. you can faintly hear him mumbling behind you, praises and insults and all that a man spews when he’s pussy-whipped and his dick is wet. “take this dick, baby, shit.” you’d roll your eyes at him if anything anakin related didn’t make you pathetically horny. it takes quite literally everything in you to speak, and your voice still shakes, “what the fuck do you want?”, and as if to spite you, anakin picks up the pace again. lip bitten, you turn back to look at him— the expression you flash him morphing from warning to pleasure, the moans and whimpers you’re trying oh so hard to keep in threatening to spill when the hand gripping your hair slides down your back and to your clit.
“i just wanna talk.” anakin sputters a short laugh. “are you with someone?”
you ignore his question, “now you want to talk?” the two of you go back and forth, and anakin props his leg up on the armrest of his couch to fuck you deeper. you were doing good until then.
“—cause you’re a fucking asshole, that’s— ah—“
your hand snaps over your mouth and the line quiets for a moment before it clicks for the boy on the other side of the phone what’s going on. “are you fucking someone right now?” anakin makes a point to thrust harder, and you mewl out a pathetic little “no?” as the hand on your clit speeds up, and you forget you’re supposed to be pretending you’re not getting your guts rearranged. you’re caught. you’re caught, but not an inch of you cares, not when you’re being fucked out for your life, pleasure rippling so intensely it makes your arms weak and you drop, held up only by one of anakins arms on your hip, your hand desperately pressed to his thigh. “ani, don’t fucking stop, oh my god!”
the call drops, and you catch a glimpse of yourself in your phone screen as a video call flashes in place of it. sweaty, panting, eyes crossed, skin rippling as anakin pounds his cock into you with no remorse, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. you look filthy. anakin is no help either, not with his unending comments. i fuck you better, don’t i, baby? he doesn’t deserve you. thats right, take it. been too long since you’ve had some good cock, huh? bouncing roughly with each of his thrusts, your head bobs as you search for eye contact with the boy behind you. you tremble as your orgasm nears, and your finger slips. you don’t hear whatever he’s screaming at you, not a single word, knees gravitating towards each other as pleasure takes over. anakin snatches the phone from you, panting from exertion, and makes a face as he peers down at the screaming man on the other end of the call. you claw at his thigh to try warn him, but your orgasm hits you too fast, too hard, and anakin revels in the thought that you’re cumming on his cock for someone else to listen to.
“do better next time, man.”
#εïз anakin skywalker prompt !#anakin skywalker prompt#anakin skywalker#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader
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Money Ties (Jungkook Love Story || Pt.8)
Pt.7 ||
Your parents have worked hard to get to the top and have made sure to teach you everything you need to know to be successful in this business: from tough but lucrative financial decisions, down to the right ball gown for any given banquet. A promising and extravagant future awaits you- that is, if you agree to one teensy detail...
Son of Mr.Jeon Sr. and heir to June Company, Jeon Jungkook is an immature playboy with nothing to offer a woman but good looks and a crap ton of money, and he stands to inherit much MUCH more, so long as you both enter into the arranged marriage contract that was drawn up before the pair of you were even born.
You're more than willing to try, but you're not sure you'll be able to stand each other long enough to inherit a single penny...
Series Warnings: There will be smut in the near future and I will label those chapters as such. As I say before most of my pieces- I do not endorse any themes, ideas, or behaviors in this series. This is all purely fiction/fantasy! Feel free to inbox me suggestions/ideas/what you'd like to see in this series and I'll see what I can do! Enjoy <3
CHAPTER WARNING: SMUT!
Recap: That thick tension that's been lingering in the air from the moment you first looked at each other- anger, curiosity, bitterness, longing- it's here in this room right now. Every logical thought your mind would normally throw at you to stop you from indulging, is completely crushed under this desire...the desire to know one another fully. Somehow, the two-foot space has closed to an inch. So close, you can feel the heat radiating off of his face and onto yours; his eyes almost completely closed. He's ready...are you?
Your heart is beating so hard, you hear it in your ears- it mixes with the sound of his breathing, and your breathing, and his heartbeat; before you can fully even decide what to do, your lips act on their own. Or rather, they act on your heart's true desire. Curse these lips...
It's nothing like you imagined it would be, and yet it is- and yet, it's more.
"Please, don't go..." He whispers to you with parted lips, and it causes your heart to stir. Only hours ago, you were certain you hated him- that you were only going through with this marriage as a favor to your parents, to secure your future-
But who did you follow Jungkook up to this desolate room for? Who did you kiss him for? Whose is this heart that won't keep still for him?
You. You. Yours. Only yours.
You don't answer him; instead, you bring your hand up to the side of his face and deepen the kiss. This isn't like you. You've never done this before. Sure, your first kiss was long ago had during a game of spin the bottle, and yes, eighth grade had its fair share of games of 7 Minutes in Heaven where this boy or that would try to cup your then-non-existent chest- but you would always stop it before it got any further. You knew that wasn't love. You knew it was all fleeting. You knew you were promised to someone else...
Promised to Jungkook.
His large hands come to rest on your waist, though only for a moment; they begin to run down to the seam of your jeans. He wants to feel every inch of you, but he's never been one to rush. You pull away momentarily to take in a breath, but he is completely uninhibited, moving from your lips and to your neck- eliciting a gentle gasp from you. You can't help the delicious sensation, nor the way your eyes roll back in response.
You have to tell him before it goes any further.
God, how embarrassing.
"J-Jungkook," You can barely get the words out.
"Mm?" He hums into your sensitive skin.
For a moment, you wonder if you even should.
Would it ruin the moment?
"I-I have to tell you something," Your words com out sooner than your body is ready to respond, as your hair is still tangled in his hair and pressing him to yourself.
He stops before you do, pulling away gently.
"What is it?" His tone is gentle, and his brown eyes look at you so softly.
"I...I uhm...I wanted to tell you that I..." You can hardly get the words out. You're suddenly so regretful of having opened your mouth at all.
"Nevermind!" You say, trying to lean in again,
though he pulls back further.
"What is it?" He laughs, finding your shyness to be both endearing
and incredibly attractive.
You stare at him, biting your lip from nervousness before deciding to just bite the bullet.
You throw your hands over your eyes and blurt out,
"I'm a virgin."
Silence follows.
Silence so loud that, if it wasn't because you could still feel the heat radiating off of his body, you would've thought he'd left.
After a moment, he gingerly removes your hands from your face-
though you dare not open your eyes.
"Y/n," His voice is like honey.
"Yeah...?"
"Open your eyes, you goof."
His playful tone surprises you,
and you finally do open your eyes.
He doesn't look upset at all-
or annoyed.
"Thank you for telling me," This time, he brings his hand up to your face and lets it rest on your cheek, his thumb stroking ever so gently.
"You're welcome..." You blush red, unable to say anything else.
"We don't have to do anything, you know. I don't want you to think I brought you up here for that. I really did just want to talk and then- and then we had this moment, you know and-"
"I want to."
He's stunned by your response and it takes him a second to process,
"You- you do want to?"
"Yeah...I just...wanted you to know so that we can take it a little slow..." Sheepish is the only way to explain how you feel.
You're not sure if it's normal or common for a girl to openly say that she wants sex, but none of this is normal.
You and Jungkook are not normal people.
And maybe that's why you trust him so...at least with this.
"Okay," He smiles, leaning in and kissing your nose,
"Come."
He stands and grabs your hand, pulling you lightly as he'd done leading you up here.
Though the room hasn't been 'in use' for a while, it's still very clean and well maintained. You'd have thought it sat waiting for a guest to come at any moment.
He leads you through white double doors that divided the living area from a beautiful, neat bedroom. The bed is about the same size as the one in your room, though there's also a small couch and a wardrobe.
Not to mention,
a giant mirror on the far side of the bedroom, opposite the window.
"Sit down, if you want," He says before disappearing into the connecting bathroom.
You sit down on the bed, admiring the small details in the room-
desperately trying not to catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror,
as you'd thrown on jeans and a hoodie to meet Jungkook at the bar,
definitely not having expected for any of this to happen.
He comes out of the bathroom holding a small speaker and setting it on the nightstand.
Oh Lord, you think,
what kind of cheesy sex playlist is he gonna put on?
To your surprise, a soft piano melody begins to play;
one that your recognize.
"Is- is this Wait for Me?" You ask incredulously.
His eyes light up,
"You know it?"
"Of course...Motopony is great."
He smiles and walks over to sit next to you on the edge of the bed-
but he doesn't touch you right away.
Instead, he lets himself fall backward onto the white comforter,
his loose button up opening ever so slightly to expose a good amount of his chest.
He doesn't ask you to do the same, just silently stares up at the ceiling- it makes you want to do the same.
For years, you've heard people say that your first time isn't as special as the movies make it seem. They say it's something to just get done and move on from so you can start having good sex- and maybe that's true for some people,
but this?
You like this.
You lay down next to him, staring at the ceiling too.
"You know, I liked you from the moment I saw you."
You snort, "Yeah, right."
"I'm serious," He says with a smile, "As difficult as it may seem, considering your so beastly and unlikeable-"
You playfully elbow him, "Shut up."
"But I did."
"Oh please, you looked at me like I was a bug on the windshield."
"And you are, but...I don't know. You have this way about you.
You don't take shit from anyone. You say what you want and you stick to it."
"Except with my parents," You say, solemnly.
"What are you on about? When I saw you renegotiate that contract with my parents- if you can even call it a renegotiation, considering you just walked in and laid down the law- I thought you were on of the bravest girls I've ever known...it must've been hard for you to have gotten it past your parents, and then..."
"And then?" You ask, looking over at him.
"...and then when you defended me to my parents...when you saw my dad about to tear into me and you explained how much I was gonna be sacrificing for their dream..." He turns to you,
"No one ever defends me...not like that...not at all."
Your heart aches for him in that moment.
Staring back at you, is not the man Jungkook,
but the gentle soul within the man...
Without another word, you both lean in again.
Though this time,
you really are ready.
The kiss is gentle for only a second,
before you're both dissolving hungrily into each other.
With one swift motion, he's lifting your hoodie up and over your head, tossing it aside- exposing your thin, lacy bralette. You're suddenly aware of the slight chill in the bedroom, causing your nipples to perk up through the thin fabric. He stares in awe of the heavenly sight,
his pants instantly tighter.
"Can I...?" He asks, lightly tugging on one of the straps. You nod wordlessly, smiling at his politeness.
Is he always this polite with women?
He gently brings down the strip, pulling the fabric down that once clothed your pert breast. He brings his large hand up and takes you into his mouth, licking languid circles around your nipple. "Ah," You moan, the sensation somehow everpresent even between your legs.
Amazing how the human body works, isn't it?
His teeth graze gently against the flesh, nibbling just enough while his hand plays with your other clothed nipple.
"It feels so good," You whisper, relishing in this new feeling.
7 Minutes in Heaven has nothing on this.
"Just wait," He says with a smirk, suddenly bringing his hand down to the button of your jeans.
Excitedly, you stare into his eyes-
waiting for the precise moment in which his fingers find-
"Oh," You squeal, his fingers resting on your clit,
though he doesn't move them much.
He's intent on building up your arousal.
"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asks, the smirk never leaving his face,
"Feel good?"
"Mhm," Is all you can manage as he begins rubbing in small circular motions, bringing his tongue back onto your nipple.
Your quiet for a little, afraid that any noise-
any breath at all-
will mess up this feeling.
"No, no, beautiful," He says, voice low and slow.
He called you beautiful, Y/n.
"I want you to breathe through this."
"O-okay," You whimper, disobeying your own judgment and following his instructions. Anything to be called beautiful by him again.
With every deep breath, you relaxed more and more-
he's right-
this feeling is intensifying beyond what you could imagine.
You've never known what it's like to cum.
If you're being completely honest, you've tried before-
on yourself, but nothing ever seemed to happen the way it did for other girls. You even wondered if it would ever be possible for you to ever reach an orgasm-
but here Jungkook is, driving you absolutely mad with just a touch.
Without a moment's notice, he's plunging two finger slowly into you,
measuring how absolutely tight you are.
"Fuck," You can't help but swear in his ear, which seems only to egg him on.
"Tell me how it feels, beautiful."
"It feels good."
"No, no. Tell me more. Good isn't good enough," He picks up the pace a reasonable amount, the palm of his hand beginning to slap against your clit in the absolute best way possible.
"It's fucking wonderful- please, keep- keep going," You feel your abdominal muscles tightening, "Shit, Jungkook."
"Not yet," He says, taking his fingers out, leaving you in absolute shock at the sudden emptiness between your legs.
He swiftly gets up and walks around to the end of the bed, leaning forward and snaking his arms around your thighs to yank you closer to the edge. He quickly takes down your jeans and underwear together, easily getting them off of you and onto a heap on the ground. You'll worry about finding your various articles of clothing later.
He gets on his knees, letting you rest your legs on his shoulders,
"Look at you," he says hungrily, his eyes absolutely eating your pussy up before his tongue even has a chance to taste.
You feel shy about his eyes on you,
but the vulnerability also feel oddly exhilerating.
He resumes playing with your pussy for a little, getting you back up to where you were, but then he switches to his mouth-
and boy, does he know how to use that mouth.
His lips suck gently on your clit, a sensation you've never felt in your life- and one you could gladly get used to.
"Oh God," You hiss, trying to breathe as he said to do but finding it oh so difficult.
"What's wrong, beautiful? Cat got your tongue?" He teases between licks.
Again, your abdominals begin to contract and you feel yourself close- close to what? You suppose you'll find out in a moment or two.
Without ceasing his mouthwork,
he plunges his fingers inside of you again, getting you closer and closer until your heat is threatening to burst.
"Jungkook, I think- I think-" You can't even get the words out before you finally do burst-
a reaction you never thought yourself capable of.
Without any hesitation at all, Jungkook is slurping up your orgasm with thirsty desperation, a warm satisfaction radiating throughout his body at the fact that it was he who first elicited such a response from you.
You pant heavily, overwhelmed by this experience, though it's in the best way possible. Your body occasionally juts from the stimulation of his tongue on your worn clit.
With a smile on his face, he emerges from between your legs- his face transforming from depraved beast and back to a puppy dog expression, though you can still see his chin glistening.
There's something about that sweet expression that makes want to go again. To go all the way.
"Come here," You say.
He climbs over you just to plop down in the empty space on your left side. You're not sure what comes over you, but you bring him closer and let the tip of your tongue glide from his chin to his lips, tasting yourself on him like a serpent tastes its very oxygen.
Now, it's you who is depraved and ready to ravage him. Virginity be damned.
You let your fingertips trail down the small portion of exposed chest to the first button on his shirt, somehow managing to blindly unbutton every single one as you kiss him deeply and passionately.
Once the final button is undone, you climb over him so that you sit straddling his waist, and now youu're the one taking a moment to admire his beautifully sculpted chest, along with the tattoos that seem to poke out from the top of his shoulder. You'd never seen them before, "Take it off," You command.
He smiles up at you, eyes wide in astonishment at your ability to take charge. He obeys, wiggling out of his shirt. When you're able to see his arms fully, you find yourself newly aroused as your let your hand touch every centimeter of his inked skin.
He brings his hands to rest on your waist, his eyes unsure of whether to fixate on your ethereal face or full breasts.
You begin to grind slowly on him, his pants still in the way of you being able to feel him- but you're okay for now. You want to build the moment too.
You want him to be as desperate for release as he had made you feel.
He helps your hips with his hands, thumbs digging gently into your flesh, the occasional sweet sting of a slap on your ass driving you wild.
You move down slightly so you can undo his pants, pulling them down a bit to expose his- rather large- bulge, covered by the thin fabric of his boxer-briefs. Suddenly, you feel a bit nervous again.
You've bit off way more than you can chew- what if it hurts? What if he's too big?
"Y/n?" His gentle voice breaks you out of your thoughts,
"Are you okay? We can stop if you want?"
His gentleness brings you at ease, "Can...can we take it slow again?"
"Of course," he says, propping himself up and kissing you, "Take your time, beautiful."
You get off of him and slide his jeans off as he'd done for you,
though you leave his underwear on.
You want a moment to familiarize yourself with him...with all of him.
His erection stands tall, especially unencumbered by the thick fabric of his jeans. "You're so big," You say gently, not even trying to be sexy- just stating a fact.
"Thanks," He says sheepishly.
"Can I...?" This time, you ask for permission, tugging on his waist band.
"Go ahead," He says with a smile, leaning back with his arms resting behind his head. Intent on letting you explore, he takes slow and steady breaths.
You slowly bring down the waist band, bracing yourself-
Throughout your schooling, you've seen maps and diagrams of the human body. You're aware of what a penis generally looks like- or at least, you thought you were aware-
but nothing would have prepared you for the size,
Or for how it would make your mouth water.
You take it into your hand, analyzing how your grip leaves a few centimeters of space between your fingers- nice and thick.
"Mm," He groans, excited to be touched by you,
the warmth of your hand giving him instant relief.
Gently, you stroke up and down,
loving how the slightest touch makes him react so.
"You wanna spit on it?" He suggests, eyes fixed on your mouth.
You smile, leaning in and pursing your pretty lips to let a wad of spit fall onto the tip of it. That pretty, pink tip.
You work the spit up and down his shaft, though you can hardly help yourself and, before you know it,
you're taking him into your mouth.
It's all experimental at first-
this is your first time touching a penis, after all,
but within minutes, it becomes second nature.
You're careful to avoid your teeth as you bob your head.
"Oh, fuck," He moans, his fingers softly playing with your hair- he's trying desperately not to be too rough- he wants you to explore at your own pace, but God, you're driving him absolutely insane.
"Am I doing a good job?" You ask, your eyes becoming doe-like and innocent, though of course, you already know the answer.
"Yes, Y/n. You're doing a good job, my beautiful girl," He says through gritted teeth.
You love his pet name...Oh, to be called Beautiful always.
You watch his tip gradually become wetter and wetter as he prepares himself, involuntarily, for you.
Finally,
you get up and help him out of his underwear, the both of you now fully exposed to one another- uninhibited by a single article of clothing.
"I think I'm ready," You say with a shy smile.
He nods, his smile soft and warm.
You climb back on him, straddling him once more- he leans back and leaves his arms at his sides, waiting for you to tell him when to touch you.
You're nervous, heartbeat furious in your chest as you grab his dick, guiding it slowly so that is rubs against your pussy a few times- you want to make sure it's wet enough.
Finally, it's positioned so that you can lower yourself onto it. Ever so steadily, you ease onto his thick member, easy at first. You watch as h closes his eyes, his mouth falling open slightly. Though you can't fully focus on him- you're busy listening to your body's natural reactions- then a sudden sharp sting- almost like a knife stabbing through a taut cloth, and then...a sea.
Truly, a sea of wetness forms within you, easing your pain so that now, the pain becomes a dull sensation.
"You're- you're so wet," He moans, trying not to lose himself in you. He's aware that any sudden move can prove too uncomfortable for you. "Does- does it feels good?" You ask, suddenly really self-conscious of your inexprience.
"Absolutely, Beautiful good...so, so good..." He can't help but begin thrusting gently up into you. He's desperate for it. Smoother than silk, your pussy has got him unraveling already. You smile, feeling now a bit braver. You begin moving up and down as well, balancing yourself on the balls of your feet. "Can- can I go a little faster?" He asks, furrowing his brows with pleasure. "Yes, Jungkook." It's as though hearing his name breathed so sensually has flipped a switch in him, and now he's grabbing ahold of your waist, thrusting deeper and deeper into you, though not so that he'll hurt you- just enough to make it interesting.
"Fuck, Y/n. You feel amazing....do you like how I feel inside you?" He asks, bringing his hand up to rest on your cheek as you continue to work on him. Your cheeks burn under his touch, "I do- you're so big," You say, locking eyes with him. "I want you to do me a favor, okay?" He says, to which you nod. "I want you to rub your clit on me while I fuck you, okay? Grind your pussy down on me, that's how it'll make it feel good." "Okay," You say, eager to please him. You get off the balls of your feet and switch so that you're on your knees, driving him deeper into you. "Fuck," You let out as you finally feel his pelvic bone against your heat. Slowly, you begin grinding forward and backward, the sensation similar to when his palm was slapping against it earlier, though this is much more intense.
"You see, baby? Isn't that better?" His tone makes you absolutely feral. You could have him talk in your ear like that all night.
"It does," You rub harder, another orgasm already building up inside you, "Jungkook, I think I'm gonna cum again."
"That's it, baby. Make yourself cum again," He coaches.
"Okay, okay, okay," You repeat, stuck on a loop as your brain seems to short circuit- all you can think or feel is this pleasure.
With a loud moan, your pussy is pulsing against him in waves of euphoria, you throw your head back in a sudden spasm and then slow down your rhythm, though Jungkook is still going- a delightfully welcomed moment of overstimulation. You want to see what it's like when he reaches that point too.
"Beautiful, when I say, I'm gonna need you to get off okay?" He says throw short gasps.
Now who's forgetting to breathe?
"Okay, Jungkook," You say, holding yourself still so he can hold onto you, pounding into you a few more times,
"Now," He says, to which your respond by quickly rolling over.
You watch as his cock immediately shoots out that thick milky substance up into the air and then as it drops back down onto his stomach. His face is that of utmost joyousness and delight, "Ah," He breathes, his hand pumping his dick a few times to make sure he's milked every last drop.
He is a sight to behold as he coms down from his high;
like Michelangelo's David.
"Wow..." You say simply.
"Wow," He smiles, looking over at you, reaching over to lightly pinch your cheek.
"What did you think?" He asked.
"Well, I can honestly say it was the best I've ever had."
"Oh shut up," He chuckles, though he brings you in closer to him.
Being in his arms like this...it's one of the nicest feelings you've ever experienced. No man has ever shown you this level of affection,
and knowing he's the first...it feels good.
It feels right.
After a moment, he pulls away, covering his crotch sheepishly,
"I'm gonna go to the bathroom really quickly."
You laugh and wave him away, taking the opportunity to stretch out on the bed. Bliss; that's the only way to describe this present feeling.
A vibration against the nightstand brings you out of your daze and when you look over, you realize it's Jungkook's phone-
and then you realize it's a text...
from Lisa.
𝗟𝗶𝘀𝗮: 𝗞𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂? 𝗜 𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 <𝟯
Your heart begins to pound in your chest. You look over at the bathroom door, still closed, though you've heard a flush.
Without another thought, you dart out of the bed, quickly yanking on your clothes, making sure to leave absolutely no trace of yourself behind in that room.
You finally hear the bathroom door open
though when you do,
the hotel room door is already clicking shut behind you.
A/N: Hope y'all enjoyed this spicy one! Took me all day to write. Clearly, it's about to get juicy.
#bts#jungkook#suga#bts imagine#jin#namjoon#jimin#bangtan sonyeondan#angst#jungkook x reader#bts smut#bts fanfic
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By: Hamza Howidy, Palestinian from Gaza City
Published: Apr 25, 2024
Protests are spreading across the United States at college campuses, where university students are gathering in the name of Palestinian rights and occupying campus spaces with tents. Sadly, not everyone who purports to support Palestinians is truly interested in safeguarding our rights.
It pains me to say this as a Palestinian from Gaza. As my home is destroyed and too many killed, I never thought I would find myself criticizing those speaking up. And yet, I cannot be silent about what I am seeing. The truth is that the manner in which many gather to voice their support for Palestinians does more to hurt our cause than help it.
You know what would help the Palestinians in Gaza? Condemning Hamas' atrocities. Instead, the protesters routinely chant their desire to "Globalize the Intifada." Apparently they do not realize that the Intifadas were disastrous for both Palestinians and Israelis, just as October 7 has been devastating for the people of Gaza.
They should be speaking up for the innocent victims of Hamas—both Palestinian and Israeli. Instead, they endorse Hamas's ideology with posters announcing resistance "by any means necessary" and chants of "from the river to the sea," effectively glorifying the Al-Qassam brigades, Hamas' military wing, whose ideology is entirely based on the elimination of more than 6 million Israelis from the land.
I assumed individuals who initiated these slogans were uninformed about what they were advocating for. I saw the LGBTQ flag frequently flown among people chanting lines from Hamas's charter, and I initially wanted to educate them, to warn them that the group they are honoring would most likely toss them from the top of a building or murder them like they did to Mahmoud Ishtiwi, a Hamas commander accused of homosexuality. Hamas harasses women who don't cover their heads. Hamas tortures those who demonstrate against their authoritarian rule, as they did me when I protested.
All of this seems to be lost on the people who have named themselves our allies, to our misfortune.
Hate speech on college campuses starting with the one at Columbia has recently reached a frightening pitch. I've seen people yelling antisemitic things at Jewish students, including "Jews go back to Poland" and other horrible phrases. It has deteriorated to the point that Jews are no longer attending university classes due to the current hostile environment, and they are attending their classes online to avoid the demonstrators.
It's unconscionable. But it's not just the antisemitism that has me despairing. It's the hypocrisy. Where were these caring young people when Hamas took over Gaza and slaughtered hundreds of Gazans, or when Hamas held 2 million Gazans captive for more than 17 years? Why didn't they speak out about the fact that Hamas led Gazans into this conflict, which resulted in more than 30,000 dead and 80,000 injured, according to Gazan municipal authorities? Where were they when Hamas's failed missiles claimed the lives of hundreds of Gazans on October 17, or when Hamas murdered young people in order to steal aid and resell it to Gazans at massively inflated prices?
The only conclusion that can be drawn from these demonstrators' silence concerning Hamas' atrocities and their antisemitic chanting is that they are not concerned with protecting Palestinians. They are out in their tents because of a hatred of Jews and Israelis.
As a Gazan and as a Palestinian, I want the protesters and the organizers of these protests to know that their hateful speech harms us. The Jewish person or Israeli you are intimidating during your rally may be the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor or a family member of an Israeli slain or abducted by Hamas on October 7. These folks would be your partners if the protests were about achieving lasting peace and justice for Palestinians and Israelis.
I do not accept hateful speech or terrorist chants, and all of these foolish dreams about eradicating Israel are disgusting—and will never be achieved. Both of us—Palestinians and Israelis—are here to stay.
But the protesters aren't interested in peace. Some of the groups have been blocking Palestinian peace activists like me—and I am from Gaza, the very place they claim to care about! Instead of blocking peace activists, they should be inviting us to join these protests and guide them in the right direction—a place without hatred with a focus on calling for the release of the hostages who have been held captive by Hamas for more than 210 days.
If the protesters cared about Palestinians, they would have one central demand: Hamas must surrender, because we have all suffered from Hamas and can no longer live under the rule of a terrorist group. Only then can a ceasefire be achieved.
Hamza Howidy is a Palestinian from Gaza City. He is an accountant and a peace advocate.
==
Told you so.
I've been calling these protestors "pro-Hamas" not "pro-Palestine" for months. I've invited dozens to condemn Hamas and none of them will. The "ceasefire" they want is for Israel to surrender so Hamas can murder them all, as they've consistently promised to.
Imagine people who pretend to want a "ceasefire" not just chanting for "intifada" (violence) and celebrating barbarous Islamic terrorism but blocking actual Palestinian peace activists. This was never about peace. It still isn't. They're useful idiots whose antisemitism is being used by Islamic supremacists to undermine western society.
#Hamza Howidy#Gaza#free Gaza#antisemitism#israel#pro palestine#palestine#hamas supporters#islamic terrorism#pro hamas#terrorism supporters#intifada#intifada revolution#useful idiots#by all means#islam#islamic supremacy#religion#religion is a mental illness
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PURPLE HEARTS (2022)
You don’t wanna date a guy that you actually like because that would mean, you know, you’d have to give up control and let someone in.
#purple hearts#filmedit#purpleheartsedit#nicholas galitzine#sofia carson#luke x cassie#edits*#luke morrow#cassie salazar#this movie called me single so hard#i downloaded hinge again#this is not an endorsement it's a warning
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jitb listening party: texts from last night [vol.1]
#textsfrombangtan#well well well... you can't say i didn't warn you#thanks ever so much for all the love on texts from tae à paris - why not drag the rest of them into it?#was trying to figure out a format when jung hoseok went and did THAT on the 19th floor of hybe hq#and if that's not some kind of divine endorsement of the shitpost idk what is. so here we are#tagging the usual suspects (my loves):#trackofthesoul#tusermanny#boongietrack#shirleytothesea#annietrack#userjeonqquk#usersky#usermaggie#networkbangtan#dailybangtan#dailybts#source: tfln#thought it would be a bit on the nose to use the hyudawn pic for 352#but you get it#and yes 774 is jessi-coded#yours lovingly - the artist fka:#(ironic huh)#final note: oh yoongs.. i'm sorry. perhaps there's a spot for you in vol.2......
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Unrung: Blue, Green & Violet All Over
@snowxstormworld Jonerys Orgasmic October 2023
Day 1: How do you want me?
Summary: Inspired by a class he's been taking at the community center with his Veteran's Support Group, Jon devises a surprise date for him and Dany that quickly becomes a colorful coming together.
An outtake from a future scene of my Zaddy!Jon fic, Unrung. Not necessary to read the original fic, if you're only looking for a smutty PWP.
“Are you going to paint me like one of your French girls, Jon?” she teased, turning into him with a smile radiating across her face. “Those lessons with your Veterans group must really be paying off.”
He raised a brow at her. “Daenerys…”
“I always knew you’d have a talent. You have a look that screams ‘secretly paints naked girls’.”
He grabbed her jaw between his thumb and index finger, firm but not rough, raising her chin up to look at him. “Is that how you want to start this?”
“No, Daddy,” she swallowed around a dry tongue. His leniency was waning. He’d gotten good at this game.
Read here on AO3!
#Jonerys Orgasmic October 2023#Jonerys fanfic#my fic#Unrung#Blue#modern au#the Zaddy!Jon fic#snowxstormworld#Day 1: How do you want me?#age difference au#God I hope I still have friends after this one#Take that for what you will#endorsement or warning
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In case anyone hasn’t noticed yet,
With the new update, some of your likes will show up on some of your followers feeds, and vice versa some of your followers likes on your feed.
So when you like the freakiest, most questionable-warning fic from another fandom
There is a possibility it randomly pops up on someone’s feed advertised as YOU having liked it
Do with that what you will
#so yeah#just make sure you’re willing to endorse all of your likes#I had to unfollow someone yesterday over this#just because you put a warning about it doesn’t make the content matter acceptable#I was HORRIFIED and I’ve been reading fics since like the sixth grade#it wasn’t gvf but like#what the fuck what the FUCK#I better not see that trope enter this fandom that’s all I’ll say
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[X]
#warning the video contains flashing lights and zhu Yilong being ridiculously sexy just standing there listening to jrounalist questions RUDE#zhu yilong#朱一龙#朱一龍#주일룡#please stand by for the queue#my gifs#whenever he sells/endorsers TF perfumes I always get a sample bottle and it’s my new obsession for like 3 months#unless it’s ebene fume because that’s the most aphrodisiac scent#leaning in with the little eyebrow raise? excuse you#he has the ability to simultaneously be both 爸爸 and smol bean 宝宝
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A book recommendation:
Empire of the Vampire by Jay Kristoff
In the grim darkness (literally it is eternal night) of the eternal vampire reign in totally not medieval France a holy order of half-vampires hunt vampires. It is very important these vampire hunters fight shirtless to reveal the power of their intricate, silver-laced tattoos. You can kind of.... Guess. The tone of things from here. It has lovely illustrations. It is indiscriminately, bisexually horny (the first few pages of book two gave a bloodsucking charged threesome). The plot involves a sort of holy blood holy Grail situation. It is ANGSTY. I hesitate to call it good but it is entertaining and I think conscious of how over-the-top it is while still commiting to the bit. Basically the first book is dumb as hell but decently written and contains many things that make me grin.
#empire of the vampire#i would describe it as near the same tone as the darker bits of berserk without most of the redeeming qualities#which is uh both an endorsement and a warning coming from me
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the ROMhacking experience can be entirely summed up by the fact my last 2 posts on this Tumblr blog, spaced about 20 hours apart, are:
- I've spent all day on this hack and I've made no progress. I hate this hobby
- [20 hours of complete radio silence later] I FIGURED IT OUT LET'S GO GAMERS
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rewatching house led to me infodumping at my mother about ao3 and gen z purity culture and honestly . if she didn't want these things to happen to her she shouldn't have had children with a man so incredibly neurodivergent
#there was a logical progression to the infodump . but i fear it was only logical in an adhd way#bc my friend went ''u can rlly tell this is early 2000s bc they wouldn't let him say things like that today''#which led to the ''they Could theoretically make it but like . toned down and also no character would ever be able to agree w him''#which led to the thing of how audiences seem unable to separate depiction from endorsement#like the whole ''if a character is transphobic and nobody in-world calls them evil and wrong then the creator must be transphobic'' thing#which led to the tag system on ao3 and the proship/anti thing abt whether the existence of the archive warning system means they're —#- endorsing/supporting works that contain 'problematic' themes and content#which led to me ranting abt the reasons Why ppl create dark media (eg a story abt csa could be written by a nonce or a survivor)#and my mother was just Sat There like 🧍🏻♂️ bc she's a 60 yr old woman and doesn't care about fanfiction or proship/anti discourse#i do this rant/infodump a Lot tho like it's on my mind very often . i love rambling for nearly an hour abt stupid internet culyure#also the quote i think best sums up my entire stance on the proship vs anti thing is from sarah z's video on it#''i am a tax paying adult woman not a member of a fucking fandom war sports team'' which is so me except that i'm a man n i don't pay taxes#((i'm not a tax evader i just don't meet the threshold to pay them))#anygay . i get on a plane in like 15 hours and i need to sleep#jay screams into the void
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Ok last one, especially when I havent even read Dune (just saw the superior lynch movie😏)
#low effor meme#the egyptian#mika waltari#sinuhe the egyptia#good book btw#dune#but I mean dune also is supposed to be a warning against a quasi religion leading to untold terror through the actions of its prophet and#basically endorses “lol changing the world will make it worse so do nothing!”#well atleast the one I read ended in a way that in my view kinda redeems it all#but I guess the intended reading was more pessimistic as a history returns thing with the ancient atrocitys reflecting ww2 and shit#idk#yeah...sorry
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This is a random question, but which characters in vnc would be watching Barbie or Oppenheimer in the Barbenhiemer trend? Let's just imagine it's a Modern AU so that we can include deceased characters in Canon.
Sorry anon but I am not the person to make this meme for you lmao
#*insert a joke about joyless communists here*#I'm one of those boring people that has stopped finding barbenheimer funny#got too widespread. and the large-scale joyful non-critical riffing on a movie that's so blasé about atrocities is pretty off-putting to me#for reference: see japanese barbie/warner bros having to make public apologies for the american wings of their compananies#bc barbie US has been endorsing/responding to fans' barbenheimer content#oppenheimer's handling of the bombs' affect on japan (and on the people in the us affected by tests) is pretty offensively lacking#also generally I'm gonna respond to suggestions for jokey posts a lot less than meta questions lmao#just fair warning#about andie#ask#anon
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tctd-iitb
Tata Centre for Technology & Design, IIT Bombay
jackass-noir
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