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bunnis-monsters · 1 year ago

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I hope I'm not too late! For the 5K event (congratulations btw!!! You deserve all of them ^^), could my request be of a merman pod finding reader and deciding she needs to be their mate/breeding partner? I guess it'd be kind of a similar situation with the cow/bull hybrids?? I'm not sure how it'd go, but It can be as sfw or nsfw as you want (I deeply apologize if this exceeds 1k words. Of course you don't have to write this if you don't want to). Thank you in advance! ^^

A/N: my requests and commissions are closed for the foreseeable future, but my commission wait list is open! Consider reading my commission info and helping me out! Slots are limited, so get on the waitlist while you still can~

Warning: dubcon, breeding, virginity loss

It had been a normal day out on the water for you, swimming and splashing around in a small cove near your home.

Unfortunately(or maybe fortunately) for you, it was the spot where a pod of mermen spent their breeding season, relaxing and eating there before going out to try and find a suitable mate.

As you got ready to get out and go grab a snack from your cooler, you felt someone’s eyes on you…

When you turned to look, a head quickly dipped back under the water, and you felt your blood run cold when you spotted several dark shapes swimming in your direction.

Of course you immediately swam for the shore, afraid of it being a shark or some underwater predator. You were alone out there, and if you were eaten no one would ever even know.

Before you could stand to start wading through the now waist deep water, something grabbed your ankle, pulling you under.

You cursed yourself for not bringing your goggles, unable to open your eyes under the stinging, salty sea water.

You prepared for some kind of attack, hoping it wouldn’t be too painful… but nothing happened. Your body was gently lifted out of the water, and you felt something cool and smooth rubbing against your cheek… and your belly… and pretty much every part of your skin.

When you opened your eyes, you were surprised to see that you were surrounded by strange creatures, half human and half fish. They all were nuzzling their cheeks unto your flesh, some giving you soft licks as if inspecting you.

After thoroughly looking over you, they all began purring and trilling, some cooing as they set you on your feet. Getting a better look at them, you realized they were all handsome, and were all smiling as they surrounded you.

“A female in our cove? What luck!”

You were surprised when one of the creatures spoke, even more surprised when another responded with soft trills and clicks.

“Yes, she is quite warm… and so soft!”

The feeling of cool scales rubbing against your thigh made you yelp. One of their tails was curling around you, keeping you close and still.

“H-hey! What do you think you’re doing!?”

They all flinched when you raised your voice, their fins perking up. Some looked at you curiously, while some seemed a bit annoyed or afraid.

“Mmm? We’re preparing to breed with you. It’s not often a female is so close to our cove while it’s mating season.”

You nearly fainted, this was all too much. First you were having to accept the fact that mermen were real, which was hard enough by itself.

Now, these mermen that you just learned actually existed wanted to breed with you.

Another merman pressed against your back, letting out a soft coo as something sticky and hard slipped and rubbed between your thighs.

There was one in front of you as your thighs were fucked from behind. He examined your bathing suit, talking his head and pulling at the fabric curiously.

“Something to cover your mating slit? Perhaps human females are more cunning than I thought…”

He seemed to view the fabric as a separate layer of skin, his weighed fingers moving to trace over your clothed pussy.

The merman’s eyes went wide, and his finge red pressed against your clothed hole. “Warm… so warm…”

The feeling of his cool, webbed fingers moving over your warm pussy made you shiver and buck your hips uncontrollably. This made the merman purr in delight.

“Y-you can remove it… it’s clothing,” you said, panting softly. Honestly, it had been so long since you’ve really pleasured yourself, and you desperately wanted to get fucked stupid.

Your bathing suit was unceremoniously ripped off, and the pod gathered around you.

There were whines and hisses, each merman fighting over who got to breed you first.

It was finally settled that they would go from smallest to largest. A merman, a bit younger than the rest approached you shyly. He was excited, this would be his first time breeding!

He chirped at you, giving you puppy dog eyes as his cock bobbed up and down in need. It seemed this one couldn’t speak, possibly being new to human speech.

“Go on, just inhale her scent and your instincts will take over,” one of the merman said, encouraging the other as he placed a hand on your thigh.

His face buried itself in his neck, and as soon as he inhaled your scent his body stiffened and pressed against you.

The feeling of his cock struggling to find your hole, rubbing against you desperately made your heart throb. This merman was too cute!

You loved your hand down, the man letting out a nervous yet aroused trill when you helped to guide his cock to your entrance.

“There you go, baby… r-right there…”

He nuzzled his cheek against yours, the flesh slightly rough against your soft skin.

The second he sunk his cock into your cunt, he let out a groan, unable to stop his hips from rutting into you roughly.

You but your lip, trying not to make too much noise. The other merman moved in closer to watch, and they all seemed to communicate with the one mating with you.

“Warm? You said she’s warm there?”

“Oh… cum already, I want a turn!”

The first merman came, relaxing against you as your pussy was filled with his cum. The next was eager to get a feeling of your pussy, pushing the other out of the way before pushing in.

“Nngh… w-warm…” he gasped out, his body hands trembling as they grasped your plump hips.

None of them were used to fucking into something so soft and warm, mermaid were usually cold and rough… but god you were the complete opposite.

It was a breeding frenzy after that, each desperate to get their turn fucking that fat, warm pussy of yours. The sound of wet squelching and shameful moans and cries echoing through the cove.

After each had a turn, they returned you to the shore, leaving you with a freshly caught fish before they left to go hunt.

“We’ll be back by nightfall, mate!”

“Don’t enter the water until we’re home! We don’t want our scents attracting other competing males!”

They waved to you as they swam away… and you were looking forward the summer with your new pod of mates.

part 2? might make a little series based off this concept where you meet each merman and get to know them!

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @buckoothecow @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila

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theyluvjake · 6 months ago

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our little secrets. — lhs

pt1 pt2 pt3 ...

Synopsis: cam boy heeseung. class president reader. the schools perfect student harbors a dirty secret, a dirty secret thats alot closer to her than she realizes. what happens when their paths cross? will they discover eachothers little secret?

MINORS DNI!

PAIRINGS - camboy!heeseung x innocent!reader

CONTENT - college au, smut & fluff with plot!! series, slow-burn, multiple chapters.

WORDCOUNT - 2.2k

WARNINGS - smut, but this chapter doesn't have anything except for masturbation, hee is kinda a perv.., reader is innocent class president who just so happens to have a secret obsession with a cam boy.. reader is a virgin, and almost completely inexperienced

NOT PROOFREAD

the schools golden girl. class president, never once has anyone even seen her with even a hair out of place. she was perfect in every way in the eyes of everyone else at the prestigious university. smart, pretty, and endlessly bubbly and kind. though she was friends with just about everyone, there was very limited people that were in her real "inner circle". the only couple of people that knew her well were her two best friends, also upper class and also very popular. yunjin and sunoo.

but then, there was lee heeseung, he wasn't the top student per-say, and he wasn't exactly "popular" but that's not to say people didn't notice him. he was definitely attractive and in an obvious way. he had a decent amount of friends due to his status as football captain. known for getting into trouble, fights, naturally, why would the two of you get along?.... complete and total opposites. .... or so it seemed.

but unbeknownst to anybody, you had a secret. a secret you would die if anyone found out. that would absolutely shatter your reputation. which is why you couldn't even tell your best friends.

one night you were scrolling on twitter when you came across a certain.... suggestive photo. you knew you shouldn't have clicked on it but it had just about hit the hour of the night when you started developing certain curiosities and you just couldn't help yourself... besides how would anyone find out?

yes. you were in college, you were 22 years old to be exact. and as embarrassing as it may seem, you didn't really have any dating experience. let alone any sexual ones. mostly due to the fact that you were more immersed in keeping up with your status and grades to be bothered with dating. its not that you didn't want a boyfriend... but you just didn't really know what to do? boys at school, honestly seemed too afraid to approach you, which ultimately led you to thinking that no one really had an interest in you. so here you were, at 2am on twitter, discovering a whole new world of pages you'd never seen before..

profile name: gamer.lhee

you read the username before your eyes wandered back down to the photo. the photo was sort of posed like a outfit-check, so at first you didn't really notice anything that was out of the ordinary. you just thought the photo was attractive... especially seeing the veiny hand that laid across his thigh. but as your eyes wandered further you could see the outline of his huge boner in the light grey sweatpants he was wearing. your eyes widened and jaw practically dropped (in preparation) before swallowing hard. you tried... (sorta), to look away but there was no use, as the pulsating between your legs was already evident.

*click* you pressed the profile icon, seeing his page littered with a plethora of pictures and short videos. along with a streaming sight & schedule linked within the bio. "Wendsdays and Fridays..." curiosity took over, as you began to scroll on the page, of course the account you were using wasn't your actual account. you were completely and fully aware of the presence you had on your public social media accounts. practically everyone from university followed you, you were their class president. if you had been liking or following anyone like this, someone would see.

and so this is how it started. a mindless scroll and now you were watching a clip on loop of some guy pumping his dick in his hand, while your own slid down into your pajama pants, feeling the warm sticky residue between the fabric of your panties. honestly, sadly and embarrassingly, you have never even fingered yourself before. you didn't exactly know what you were doing but you needed to feel something.. so just like that your fingers began to mindlessly play with your pussy, finding your clit fingers circling the bundle of nerves. — you didn't even realize how good it could feel just to to touch.. not even having to put anything inside. in all honesty that part sort of scared you a little bit.

shamefully, it was only but a few minutes until you felt your legs shaking, mindlessly whining as you imagined the filthy scene of you and this random man drilling into you.

now, you found yourself every single wednesday and friday night, logging onto his website to watch him. and it wasn't even just that he was physically attractive, and sure he was. but it was everything about him. the way he spoke, his voice, his confidence, his aura, that drew you in so deeply. and ever since then nothing and i mean nothing. else could get you off.

you kept telling yourself "its normal" "its healthy" "everyone does it" but they were just words to comfort yourself. try to hide the fact that you felt so dirty for enjoying it, feeling like a pervert for having a smallest crush on a random man on the internet to which you had never even seen his face.

or so you thought.....

—

lee heeseung. the two of you knew of each other, maybe walk past each other a few times, spoke maybe once or twice in a group setting. but it wasn't much. not much at all. he knew you were seen as "untouchable". but that didn't mean he didn't want to try. miss perfect, class president, perfect grades, perfect face. heeseung had always sort of kept his eye out on you. sure, so did pretty much every other guy in school, but with him it was different. there was something about you, actually it was everything about you. not to mention you were just about the prettiest girl to exist in his eyes.

but something about your perfect little persona made him wonder what it would be like to tear that down. what would be underneath it all? he hated himself for it, but he became borderline obsessed with the thought of ruining you. day in and day out the classes that you two shared, you were almost completely unaware of his presence, but little did you know, almost all day he was staring at you from the back of the class. eyes undressing you, imagining what you'd look like without your pretty school uniform on. fuck. he quickly shook his head trying to calm his racing thoughts. he didn't know how yet but he knew by the end of the year he had to have you. one way or another.

—

"a party..?" you sighed completely dumbfounded your best friend's had even suggested the idea.

"when have i EVER, been to a party?" your tone was completely telling of your stance on this insane suggestion.

"that's the point!!!" yunjin jumped around excitedly at the idea.

"no. no way. , don''t you think that will just make everyone i don't know.... not take me seriously?"

"who cares what they think!! its college y/n you have to go to at least one before we graduate. plus i doubt it will make anyone take you 'less seriously'... well, like as long as you don't get shit faced."

you sighed completely perplexed you were even considering the idea at all. but you couldn't lie and say that you had no interest at all, actually you did. but unlike your outgoing confident best friend, you unfortunately did sort of care what other people thought.

"fuck it. fine." you sighed and watched as yunjin and sunoo practically jumped around in circles excitedly.

"i don't really have anything to wear.." — "say less. i already have some outfits planned for us both!" yunjin smiled excitedly. what.... had you gotten yourself into.

—

it was the weekend of the party. friday night. typically you spent your friday's at home and when it got late... tuned in for a particular stream. but almost like a blessing, for some reason hee tweeted earlier in the day, he wouldn't be streaming tonight but tomorrow instead. you were just sorta glad you wouldn't have to miss it. as weird and coincidental as it was.

you yunjin and sunoo all shared a dorm, so it was easy for you all to get ready together. while yunjin was still overflowing with excitement, you on the other hand were almost a little anxious? particularly when yunjin showed you the outfit she had planned for you to wear. "no. no way. yunjin you cant be serious... will that skirt even cover my ass???" you held up the mini skirt concerningly.

she shrugged, "i don't know, doesn't matter though! anyways go try it on and see, its gonna be soo cute!!"

you sighed as you picked up the clothes heading back to your room. she had picked out a white ruffled mini skirt with a baby pink corseted top, along with some cute mary janes and thigh high socks that had small little bows at the tops. the literal only positive of the outfit, was that she at least kept your personal style in mind. only meaning the colors, frills and girlyness of it all.

when you put it on, thankfully it did cover your ass, barely. but it did. you uncomfortably tried to pull the skirt down and attempted to adjust the top so that your boobs weren't completely spilling out of it. god. what am i doing. you sighed and took another look in the mirror. you looked good, hot honestly, but it was the unfamiliarity of it all that made you uncomfortable. never once in your life have you went out of the house like this. and now, you were, and of all places, somewhere where all your fellow classmates would see you.

before long, yunjin had done a full on makeover and curled your hair perfectly. at this point your didn't even recognize yourself. "who's- AH ! omgod. y/n?!?!?" sunoo jumped dramatically when he saw the finished look, acting as if he had just saw a total stranger for a minute. and honestly, you don't blame him. "do i look ridiculous?" you squinted, though yunjin obviously had been hyping you up, you definitely needed another perspective to make sure this wasn't completely insane. "no, you look... hot. if i liked girls, i would totally-"

"ok shut up. thanks i guess.." you rolled your eyes sarcastically before the three of you made your way out of the shared dorm and drove over to the address of the house where the party was being held.

mentally preparing yourself, you took a deep breath before exiting the car, yunjin and sunoo locking arms with you as you walked together towards the house. the first think you smelled was alcohol. so much alcohol, the air was thick and the house was dimmly lit with blasting music. but what you didn't notice while you were distracted taking in the atmosphere was the people starting to stare, quietly whispering to their friends. "is that y/n?? there's no fucking way.."

to say people were shocked to see you at a frat party, was the understatement of the year. as soon as you came back to reality you could feel the stares. "is everyone looking at us.." you leaned over whispering in sunoo's ear.

"no!! definitely not! .... - they are looking at you~" he playfully winked. and as a result you just sighed as to try and shake off the anxiety overflowing through your body. the three of your finally found the kitchen where yunjin introduced you to a group of guys you hadn't even been aware she was friends with. most of them of which were on the football team. "hey sunghoon!" she smiled and walked up to the boy, "hey yun, you're attending parties now?" he laughed and she playfully hit his arm. "y/n is with you?" he not so discreetly eyed you up and down.

"yea, she made me. hey sunghoon," you smiled a bit timidly. the rest of the boys in the group introducing themselves like you all hadn't already known each other's names. you knew of each other, but didn't really know each other. "hey im heeseung,"

"yea i know! your in my economics class," you smiled,

"and lit and physics." he held his same warm smile as you looked a bit flustered, feeling a bit embarrassed for not having noticed the amount of time you two were actually together, unknowingly.

"oh yea... sorry"

the boy just chuckled softly, "no problem pretty, maybe now you'll notice me,"

you were a bit taken aback by the sudden compliment, but more-so, the way he said it.. "pretty". it was almost like you'd heard it before. but you were absolutely sure you hadn't. if you did you definitely would have remembered.

"oh my god." your heart started to race cheeks that were slightly tinged with color now completely red. "no fucking way. hee ... seung? hee? no no no there's no way." it was only just a matter of seconds to which your mind had been racing around. only snapped back into reality when you heard the voice of him again, this time he was holding out a drink for you, but your eyes went to his hands. not the cup.

"i - um i have to go.. to the b-bathroom.." you quickly almost ran through the crowd of people, muttering small excuse me's and sorry's. with no actual clue where you were even going. leaving the rest of the group utterly confused.

— tbc.

pt2.

#enhypen smut #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen drabbles #enhypen series #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #heesung enhypen #heeseung hard thoughts #enha heeseung #heeseung x reader #heeseung smut #heeseung #heeseung fanfic #heeseung hard hours #enhypen heeseung #our little secrets

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deesseshesca · 3 months ago

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PAC: What they would do to your naked body that they will be afraid to admit ? (18+)

(SINGLE SINCE BIRTH - ERA ~4 )

No, you are NOT dreaming ... SHE'S BACKKKK !

Pile 1

Hey girl/boy hey ! How are you doing ? Miss y’all so much ! Anyways don't look at me like that … in what kind of mess did you put yourself into ? Imma move on but we definitely circling back to this next time. Now we are all about the way your next partner would dream about treating your naked body but will be too afraid to admit it.

First thing first, y’all know I am not the one to sell y’all dreams, right ? No coming back did not change that side of me but babe you are the turning point in your next lover's life. I mean there's a clear before and after effect. Now I’m hearing the lyrics of Brokey: When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown

You ain't never fuck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out). There's a difference; the second part of the verse does not apply to you. Like you did not do anything to make that person change. You did not want that person to change. They saw what you were about and decided to change their way. You might never know how much of a trash lover they were until they decide to be honest with you. In my vision, I see a guy dressed like a bad guy in the 50s looking at the pretty preppy girl in pink from a mile away and instead of wanting to do bad to her he want to show her how good love can get.She's the only one worth his good side. I aint saying y’all fit that narrative is just an analogy.

In their mind, there's no crazy possessive act or even passion. If we stick to my vision, they want you in their pretty car, caressing your leg, keep losing themself in your pretty brown eyes (some of y’all have green eyes and enjoying deep conversion. They don't even want to take you out at night because they want to make sure you know they are serious and this is not some kind of trap. Now sometimes, late at night in their room, they may catch a boner because they mind is almost ``forcing`` them to think of you in a more sexual manner. They will think of kissing your neck (not leaving hickeys because the mere fact that you let them this close to your delicate energy is a privilege). Most of y’all in this pile have the bra game crack and under control (I am jealous tell me all your secrets, NOW !), your tits always look the fuck good. They would love to stare at them and you letting them do so not thinking he's a creep or not risking his chance with you. Caressing your inner thigh and also maybe playing a bit with your panties does cross their mind. They never go further than that because they need to focus on the bigger picture which is a long term commitment with you. At the end of the day, their passiveness depends on your energy. If you ever give them hint of wanting more (fuck me eyes, playing with your tits, nasty texting …), they will jump on the occasion.

They also enjoy how strict you are and love it when you remind them that you are not the one to play with. The fact that you can drop them that easily is a turn on for them. They also imagine you, squirting all over them. Overstimulating you with their munch abilities and flipping you around on their dicks at night they cant their mind out the gutter.

PREVIOUS READING

PILE 2

Hey to my lesbian girlypop. How is your cherry doing ? I hope you had all the fun you wanted while I was gone, if not good news the fun is coming.

Your next partner's sexual thoughts about you, that they would be afraid to admit is that they want you. I think this person presents themself as straight until they meet you and you set fire to their POV. You may actually never know this person is thinking about you that way and if you miss the clue, you are going to miss out on a beautiful opportunity for some good sex because they are pretty lowkey. I ain't going to lie no matter what, this is not going to transform into a full blown relationship. You may have a habit of falling in love with a good box so guard yourself. Don't worry, this person is a gentle soul. I see y’all being FWB. Everytime they are going to think about it in a sexual manner is going to shook them because that's not who they are. They never wanted and thought of playing in the rainbow before you. They will take extra time reminiscing about your tits and your natural curvy body. Most of y’all reading this have an hourglass body or pear body no matter slim or thick. Y’all going to have good sex after having an honest discussion regarding y’all desires and the way y’all want to deal with it.

Her love language is physical touch. She might get extra affectionate with you because she loves the feel of your bust on her. Another hint, you may need to catch. Funny enough, she also has a habit of falling in love which is quicker than you. Idk the relationship may be chaotic not the toxic kind and the sex bomb. Maybe because it comes with forbidden feelings. Anyways the ball is in your court, you decide if you want to mess with that or keep going in your dry spell era.

PREVIOUS READING

PILE 3

How are you doing queen ? It has been a whole month since I left and you are still bedrotting ? What happens with all your goals set in Jan 2025… huh ? No, don't go away, I'm not stepping on your neck (this time at least). I am not here for that TODAY. Today is all about love and good vibes and you deserve all that. Even when you think you don't …

Let's dive into it ! To begin with, your next partner is going to think you are porn star beautiful. Don't worry I was mad for you when I got that message. Me (yesterday) : WTF DO U MEAN PORNSTAR BEAUTY ! Are u sex addicts because I swear my babes deserve better than that … Until my spiritual team told me to calm my butt down. Your next partner is no sex addict and he dont think your makeup is cakey. What he tries to make me understand is you have every attribute to make any man fall on their knees yet you are too insecure. In his sexual dream regarding you, you are more confident. Your dominant planet may be Venus and you may have a stellium in Taurus because everything you do is so sexy and sensual. Some of y’all have a rising sign in Scorpio with all that I have mentioned, damm another day wishing I could see y’all gorgeous face. Your voice is sweet like honey but very sexually inviting. Like you can be reciting a grocery list and you would make these men have blue balls. He could be on facetime masturbating to you just doing your laundry. You have a natural pretty face, your mannerism is enchanting and your voice oulalala dont worry they will not. If in your future you are down for that, you don't have to ask them twice. Calling you is their bad habit. They love receiving voice memos from you. Also they think you are hiding some kind of sexual talent. Maybe you know how to ride it well or you give good head. They know you are uncomfortable when it comes to sex. Most of you, your ex took your spark away when it comes to being sexy (funny this is single since birth …). Or maybe somebody you thought you were in a relationship with the whole time he was cheating with you which took your confidence away and left you with nothing but guilt.They want to feel like a boss, they would probably daydream about taking charge in the bedroom. Not full blown dominatrix but telling them where you want them to put their hands. Where you want them to kiss. Holding their head down while their munching. Would love for you to express how good you make them feel and how it is only them making you feel that way. They LIVE for your validation and YOUR validation ONLY. For some it is someone from your past not the bad ex/situationship is actually somebody you have good moments with but you naturally drift away and you are going to reconnect again. Fucking them would be full of longing and euphoria. Is almost like fucking on the clouds, so dreamy and soft. They can sense a growth in you when they see again, that you may take for granted. When they left you were more of a people pleaser and when they are coming back you have an ease in displaying your boundaries which they are going to be so proud of you for changing. I keep hearing : babygirl & ‘’ I am so proud of you’’. Throughout all your relationship they are always going to celebrate your wins whether they are small or huge.

This man is definitely a white one. There's a high chance he has blue eyes and blond hair. Also he walks around with a sex playlist … lol.

PREVIOUS READING

PILE 4

Hey my wild rides. I missed your chaos. Don't tell the other you are secretly my fav energy (y’all : I could have swear a couple post ago, you said gentle & delicate soul were your fav… me: No need to fight ladies, Shesca has enough love for all of you (no me entering my douchebag era)). Anyways what kind of mess did you create and left like it was not your fault while I was gone. Is ok, you right … How could it ever be your fault?

That being said, let's go back to the business that pays me (shameless promo, go get a private reading !). Talking about shamelessness, you like big dicks. Don't try to hide the cards rat you out a long time ago. Since it is supposed to be for my single since birth, y’all may have a size kinks. Which shows me that your type may be tall muscles guys. You may have something for big biceps. You don't want them gym rat way but more nerds type way that still go to the gym and send you pictures after they are done. I know your pussy just did that crazy twirl, let's calm down lady. The next person you are going to deal with is going to be your dreams come true. They are going to want you to be hooked on them and to only have eyes for them. Honestly they may be quite stoic from the outside in even their sense of style is quite minimal ( just wanted to add that they smell extra good) but inside they are fucking golden retrivers. They would do anything for you to compliment them. They will put that work in the bedroom girl ! Just for you, the pillow princess to say it was good. Is like a reward for them. You guys will need to find a middle ground. That is what they think about because compared to them you are tiny. They can easily break, they are actually scared of hurting you. Or embarrassing you with a run at the emergency room because he decided to go to deep inside. He will have an Aries mars … shit. Big dig, size kink and Aries mars … don't worry I am already calling the police on your behalf. In their daydream regarding your naked body, they are not actually picturing you naked. They are pictureing y’all kissing, caressing each other's body and you asking for more and them telling you, he can't because he is scared of hurting you.

That person is an amazing cuddler and loves cuddling. Do not joke around about cuddling time, it may be one of your couple's traditions. Maybe before bed is mandatory y’all cuddle. Y’all may also have a tradition of always showering together. He is also very vocal in the bedroom, talks dirty, moans, grunts and may even beg …

PREVIOUS READING

#tarot #tarotcommunity #tarot reading #divination #tarot cards #18+ tarot #pac #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a pile #free readings #free tarot readings #free tarot #divine timing #divine guidance #intuitive messages #intuitive guidance #intuition

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chelseeebe · 1 year ago

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gimme a hand

okay so i saw a silly tiktok abt how guys take nudes wrong and thought our lovely best friend reader could help eddie take some !! i am a little tipsy so pls excuse any mistakes

mdni. 18+. smut. like, literally just smut. fem!reader x eddie. modern au

“so.. how are things with you and.. whatshername?” clicking your fingers in his face.

eddie scoffs, batting your hand away, “chrissy is her name,” correcting your childish behaviour, “and it’s good, we’ve been.. texting a little,” shrugging nonchalantly.

you and eddie had been best friends for years, though these hang outs were few and far between now. both too busy with the perils of adult life to sit around and smoke weed all day, like you used to.

that meant that your relationship had skewed a bit, no longer as close as you once were. though you still tried to feign an interest in his, mostly nonexistent, love life.

he understood though, your life was far too interesting to care about the very small roster of girls he was seeing.

“texting?” you exclaim, stubbing the embers of the joint out into the ashtray, “so you haven’t seen her since?”

eddie shakes his head, realising that what he had thought was an exciting update, was actually just a pathetic retelling of a long text thread.

“i think we’re just.. testing the waters,” brushing off your disappointment. he contemplates even telling you anymore but what kind of a best friend would he be if he didn’t at least tell you all the details. “she sent me pictures the other day,” wriggling his eyebrows.

“pictures?” a slight mocking tone to your voice that he doesn’t like, “what kinda pictures?”

his face scrunches up, cheeks flaming red, as if it wasn’t obvious. “you know.. naughty ones.”

you whistle, blowing the air from your cheeks in the most sarcastic manner, “naughty pictures.. wow eddie, you’re really moving up in the world. did you send any back?”

his head dips, regretful of ever sharing this with you. you had never had a lack of choice for guys lining up for you. even back in high school. of course you wouldn’t understand.

“no..” shrugging again, “i don’t.. don’t know how.”

“you don’t know how to send nudes?” utter shock rippling through your voice, “didn’t i teach you anything?”

“not how to send nudes!” he hits back, getting increasingly frustrated that you’d rather mock him than help him get laid for once.

“i can help you if you want,” you offer, “i don’t have to watch.. i can just.. guide you?” proposing the question as if it were a completely standard conversation for you two to be having.

“really?” his eyes bright and full of hope.

eddie really liked chrissy, she was sweet and the times they had hung out, they got on well. he just wasn’t equipped to match her flirting, afraid he’d overthink himself into losing her.

“sure,” you smile, grabbing his phone as you stand from the couch, “come on,” beckoning for him to follow you down the corridor to the bathroom.

you bundle into the trailers tiny bathroom, poised in front of the mirror with his phone in hand.

“you stand here..” you instruct, guiding him by the shoulders, “you need to get hard,” grinning as you look at him through the mirror, “i’ll stand outside and just.. tell you what to do, okay?”

eddie’s too high for this, wondering how you’d gone from a joint and a couple of beers to now helping him sext the girl he liked.

you disappear outside, shoving his phone into his chest, the knob clicking quietly as the realisation of what the hell he was doing sets in.

“so..” he poises, swiping onto the camera, posing himself in the dirty mirror, “pull my pants down, right?” wanting to make sure that he got nothing wrong.

“yeah, but not all the way, just like.. a little bit.”

okay, he thinks. tugging his sweatpants down just beneath his balls, his boxers following suit. he was getting hard just thinking about it, the fact that you were instructing him what to do wasn’t helping.

his fingers wraps around the base of his cock, pumping his fist a few times, stifling the groan that had settled in his throat.

this was already weird enough, he didn’t need to make it weirder.

“okay..” his voice quivering, “what now?”

you tut, “pull your shirt up.. or off, it looks bad otherwise.”

eddie does as you ask, taking his shirt off and tossing it into the floor with the rest of his dirty clothes. he peers at the image through the screen, inwardly cringing at how stupid he looked.

“i don’t know,” though his dick was already stiff, aching for him to continue. “i look stupid,” he frowns, attempting to position the phone differently, although nothing seemed to help his pathetic stature.

“no you don’t,” your voice rings through the door, “now you gotta pose it.. make it look good, sexy.”

his eyes squeeze shut, wishing you’d stop talking with that low growl in your voice. this was for chrissy’s benefit, not his. getting off to the sound of your voice while trying to arouse another girl was not the plan.

eddie exhales, opening his eyes to reposition the phone, closer to the mirror. his fist begging to move and finish the job.

nothing helped, in fact, it looked worse than before. chrissy’d block him if he dared sent anything like this.

fuck, he felt like a pervert. this was wrong. twisted.

“have you done it?” you call.

“no,” he gulps, frowning at the image of himself in the mirror.

you huff, knuckles wrapping against the door, “i’m gonna come in, okay?” giving him no time to think before you appear next to him in the mirror.

your eyes fall straight to his cock, widening every so slightly, “wow.. okay,” chuckling awkwardly as you snap back into it. “you have to..” your hand lowers his phone, straightening the camera position for him.

his breath is jagged, on the edge of exploding and splattering all over his bathroom. whatever buzz he had had from the weed had dissipated, replaced by the hazy tingly sensation of your hand near his cock.

“and then..” you look to him, in person this time, not through the safety of the mirror, before wrapping your fingers around the ones that were still lingering around his cock. “do this..” voice trailing off into a low whisper, using his fist to pump his already leaking cock.

a strangled gasp leaves his mouth, heat searing through his body. mind too fuzzy to truly comprehend the shit he was seeing and feeling.

the heat of your body presses against his back, delicate fingers still travelling the length of his cock, “film it,” not once letting your eyes fall from the side of his face while his stay firmly on the mirror in front.

maybe this way he could pretend it wasn’t real, that he was just watching some video and you weren’t actually jerking him off by-proxy.

eddie, ever obedient, presses the record button, sighing into his phone as your his hand continues to move.

his knees almost buckle, kept afloat by the sound of you panting into his ear. it was almost too much, his brain collapsing into itself as your hand takes over, ignoring the phone in his hand to continue making him whine and quiver like that.

the weight of your body presses him into the cold china basin, eyes travelling from his face to his dick and right back up again.

you could’ve told him to jump right now and he would’ve. other hand reaching around to grab onto whatever part of you he could get a grip on.

your lips trace against his neck, lingering against the skin. he couldn’t keep the phone straight, the video would just be some big blur of him groaning and the sink. not that it matters. not while you’re touching him.

“is this good?” you ask, breath tickling against his ear.

eddie nods rapidly, “good.. so good,” fingers twisting around your shirt as his eyes flutter closed. “fuck,” he gasps, the phone slipping from his hand onto the counter when your thumb circles the tip of his dick. an otherworldly feeling he had never been able to feel before.

“yeah?” you grit, pulling his hand, signalling for him to turn. his bones were jelly, body mailable and under your control. his back now pressed against the sink, foreheads pressed together.

one hand holds onto your hip while the other finds your cheek, lazily trying to connect your lips. your knee slides between his legs, spreading them just enough for your other hand to creep between and grab his balls.

“ohh shit,” eddie wails, kissing at your bottom lip, sucking at the skin.

nothing felt real, waiting for his alarm to pull him out of this fucked dream to a sticky puddle and a new perspective on your friendship.

your expert fingers fondle his balls while the other fists his dick, pre-cum making your fingers glisten and move with ease.

his throat squeaks, the most pitiful noise a grown man could’ve made, his bottom lip still latched onto yours.

ten years of friendship and yet the two of you had never even kissed before. wishing you wouldn’t have wasted so much time on actually doing it. a newfound adoration for the sweet taste of your lips and the friction of your palm rubbing against his cock.

“i’m gonna cum,” he babbles, stomach flipping, waves of pleasure crashing through his tingling limbs.

you don’t respond to his whining, your nose brushes over his as his breaths become shallow and staggered. a iron clad grip on your shirt as he teeters over the edge, hips stuttering into your palm.

“ohh fuck,” eddie mewls, bursting all over your hand, “shit.. fuck, oh god,” your eyes dark, gazing down at your hand still wrapped around him, somewhat proud of what you’ve achieved.

he lets go of his hold on your body, hurriedly trying to find the counter to ground himself. his head a million miles away on mars, his lack of thoughts disrupted by the sound of the water running.

chest still heaving as he braves a look at you, watching his release swirl down the drain. you’re chewing on your bottom lip, a sudden realisation that you had just made your best friend cum maybe. he doesn’t really want to ask. hoping you won’t regret it.

eddie picks up his phone, stopping the recording, his thumb shooting straight to the tiny trash can until you grab his wrist.

“don’t delete it,” a fire within your eyes, twisting the screen in your direction, “i wanna watch.”’

his finger hovers over the play button, looking to you though your eyes are trained on the screen, waiting for him to press play.

the video starts, shaky footage as the audio of his pathetic grunts and gasps fill the tiny bathroom. eddie can’t bring himself to watch, forcing himself to watch you rather than the video.

you’re smiling to yourself, smug at the sight of you making him crumble. he wants to be embarrassed, can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and yet, he doesn’t turn it off.

“maybe don’t send that..” you remark, finding his eye, that mischievous sparkle that eddie hadn’t seen in years, reappearing.

he needed to feel you, in the way that you had felt him. cock already reawakening when your lips twitch into a smirk.

shit.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things

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whisperedmeg · 1 month ago

Text

BULLSEYE ⟢ spencer reid x greenaway!reader

summary: you didn’t plan on staying late at the bar, hustling reid at darts, or flirting with him after trivia. you definitely didn’t plan on the coffee waiting on your desk the next morning, either.

genre: fluff (and a teeny bit of angst bc it’s greenaway!reader after all but yeah mostly fluff)

tags/warnings: reader is elle's sister, BAU team takes bar trivia night, mild flirting (FINALLY), reader ruffles spencer’s hair and pokes his chest asdfghjklbaqsgfj, drunk garcia, morgan being a little shit, alcohol consumption, mentions of spencer’s past dilaudid use + tobias hankel kidnapping, hangovers, coffee as a love language, no use of y/n

a/n: inspired by this anon request | things are HAPPENING you guys. I tried to weave more of elle’s spunkiness into reader’s character this fic to show how she’s still sharp and sassy even when she’s letting her walls down and oooh I love her so bad. | GIF credit to @reidgif !

greenaway!reader masterlist 🥀

It starts with the unmistakable sound of heels.

Which would be unremarkable, except for the fact that they’re clicking with purpose — and the only person you know who makes that kind of entrance is Penelope Garcia, glitter incarnate. You don’t even look up from the incident report you’re writing.

“Absolutely not,” you say flatly before she even opens her mouth.

“Oh come on,” she whines, dragging out the syllables like it might wear you down. “I haven’t even asked yet!”

“You don’t have to. It’s Thursday. You’ve been talking about going out as a team all week. You’re wearing earrings so sparkly I was almost blinded by them earlier. I know what this is.”

Garcia gasps. “You noticed!”

You look up just in time to see her drop a too-colorful flyer on your desk like it’s a court summons. JJ and Emily are hovering just behind her, clearly serving as her accomplices.

You squint down at the flyer.

TRIVIA NIGHT – NYC History & 1990s Music Themed!

O’Keefe’s Bar | 8PM | Buy Two, Get One Free Tequila Shots!

You let out a quiet snort. “No way.”

“Pleeeeease,” Garcia begs, clasping her hands under her chin. “We need you. You’re from New York, and your playlists are full of 90s bands, and plus, it’ll be fun! Everyone’s going. Even Rossi and Hotch promised to make an appearance.”

You narrow your eyes. “I don’t hang out with coworkers outside of work.”

“That’s okay,” Garcia chirps. “You don’t have to act like we’re your BFFs, you just have to contribute your grungy brilliance. We need a ringer.”

“I’m not a ringer,” you say. “I’m a federal agent. And I have plans tonight.”

“Doing what? Staring at your ceiling alone and judging the drywall?” Emily asks. “Conducting a séance in the dark?”

“Yes,” you deadpan.

Before they can mount a second attack, Morgan strolls by with a file under one arm. He gives you a knowing smirk. “Come on, rookie. You afraid we’ll actually be fun?”

“I’m afraid of being forced into karaoke,” you shoot back.

“I’m afraid of your refusal to embrace joy,” Garcia pouts.

That’s when Hotch passes behind them all, not even slowing as he says, “It’s not optional, Greenaway.”

You stare at his retreating back. “Is that a direct order?”

He lifts a hand without turning around. “Interpret it how you want.”

You look over to the far side of the bullpen, where Spencer’s watching the chaos with that vaguely bemused expression he wears like a second skin. He hasn’t said anything to add onto the attack, but he hasn’t come to your defense, either. Traitor.

You exhale like this physically pains you. “Fine. I’ll stay for one drink. One trivia round. I’m not singing karaoke, I’m not taking shots, and I’m not playing any drinking games.”

Morgan grins. “Good enough for me, sugar.”

You flip him off without looking up. Garcia squeals in delight and Emily mentions pre-gaming with Rossi’s office liquor. JJ mutters something about needing to hydrate.

You rub your temples.

—

O’Keefe’s is louder than you’d like. It’s one of those dive bars with Christmas lights pretending to be ambiance and the faint smell of fryer oil clinging to every surface. Someone’s playing Mariah Carey on the jukebox. Someone else is yelling about baseball stats near the dartboards.

You already regret everything.

The team pours in like they own the place. Morgan leads the charge, claiming a long table near the trivia setup. Garcia’s practically vibrating in her retro-print dress, pointing out the score sheets and little buzzers. Emily heads straight for the bar with a mission: tequila. You linger behind them all, half-tempted to fake an urgent phone call and disappear.

Spencer hangs back, too. Not near enough to make it obvious, but close enough that you feel his presence.

He watches as you survey the place with your arms crossed and your expression unreadable. Your boots stick slightly on the laminate tiles near the entrance and you mutter something under your breath about the existential nightmare of sticky floors. He smiles at that.

“You okay?” he asks, gently.

You shrug, still scanning. “Just trying to map out the fastest route to every available exit.”

He huffs a quiet laugh. “I think there’s another through the kitchen, though I’m pretty sure using it would be a health code violation.”

“I’m willing to take that risk if needed.”

When you approach the bar, the rest of the team is already ordering — beers and shots and colorful sugary things that make you want to vomit on sight.

“Double rye. Neat.”

Garcia stares as the bartender slides the whiskey in front of you. “You really do hate joy.”

You ignore her. She orders something blue and glittery. Spencer, beside you, clears his throat. “Ginger ale, please.”

You raise an eyebrow. “That your typical bar night go-to?”

He doesn’t flinch, but he doesn’t quite meet your eyes, either. “I don’t, uh, really drink much anymore.”

Something about the anymore pricks at you. You tuck it away for later. He notices.

“It’s… kind of a long story,” he says, and it almost sounds like an offering. Like an I’ll tell you later.

You nod once. “Noted.”

The drinks arrive and you make your way to the table. JJ’s waving you over, pointing to a plastic clipboard where the team name still reads TBD.

“Suggestions?” she asks, tapping the end of the pen.

“Don’t say Penelope’s Angels,” you mutter. “Garcia’s already pitched it three times.”

Garcia pouts. “It’s cute!”

Morgan suggests cheekily, “The Derek Morgan Fan Club.”

Emily throws a pretzel at him.

You lean forward, glance at Spencer. “Any ideas, Doc?”

He blinks, then shrugs. Then, out of nowhere, says, “E Pluribus Nerdum.”

Everyone turns.

“What?” Emily says, one brow raised.

Spencer blinks, the picture of sincerity. “It’s a pun. On E Pluribus Unum — ‘out of many, one.’ It’s the motto on the Great Seal of the United States, adopted by congress in 1782. Only—this is, you know, “Out of many nerds… us.””

Morgan shakes his head. “You’re such a weirdo, man.”

“But it’s better than your idea,” Emily teases. “I like it. Let the nerds have it.”

You snort into your drink. JJ scribbles it down as the too-perky trivia host starts calling for teams to check in.

The first category is New York City history, and you groan as JJ passes you the clipboard. The questions come fast: Who was the mayor of New York during the 2003 blackout? What was Times Square originally called? What band headlined the first concert in Central Park?

You answer two in a row without hesitation. Spencer looks impressed. Morgan hoots. Garcia says you’re officially forgiven for skipping happy hour two weeks ago.

Later, between rounds, Spencer leans a little closer.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” he says, “but you’re a little scary when you’re having fun.”

You glance sideways. “You think this is me having fun?”

His mouth quirks. “Admit it, you are. And it’s terrifying.”

You pop a fry in your mouth. “It should be.”

But the thing is — you kind of are having fun, in your own, quietly hostile way. And Spencer, you realize, has barely taken his eyes off you all night.

You tell yourself it’s just because you’re a curiosity. Elle’s sister. The new girl who doesn’t smile much. The profiler who isn’t a genius yet still answered half the trivia questions before he could. Nothing more. But the way he’s looking at you — like he sees through all your armor — is starting to get under your skin.

A question about NYC subway planning comes up and Spencer answers it so fast you swear he must’ve been alive in 1904. When Garcia gapes, he shrugs. “I wrote a paper on metropolitan infrastructure patterns when I was eleven.”

You stare at him, baffled and slightly charmed and a little disarmed. “Of course you did.”

He shrugs again. But this time, there’s the ghost of a grin.

—

A few hours pass in a blur of secondhand smoke, ambient jukebox static, and rounds of questions you mostly pretend not to care about.

You order your second drink — a dirty gin martini this time, extra extra dirty — and watch as JJ giggles at something Emily said, Garcia arm-wrestles Morgan with frightening sincerity, and Rossi chats with a table of older gentlemen about cigars. Hotch left about an hour ago after muttering something about needing to get home to Jack.

It’s chaos. Friendly, stupid chaos. And somehow, you’re still here, not totally hating it.

“You want to get some air?” Spencer asks, voice low, like he’s afraid of interrupting the way you’ve been staring at the door for the past three and a half minutes.

You glance at him and nod. “Lead the way.”

The patio’s half-abandoned, just two guys smoking at the far end. Spencer leans against the wooden railing, ginger ale in hand, and you realize his hair looks different tonight — combed through, as if he attempted to style it in the Quantico bathroom after the night’s plans were made, but still sticking out messily in the back. The sleeves of his shirt are crookedly rolled and pushed up to his elbows. It’s like he tries so hard to look put-together but has to fight against the gravitational pull of the universe in order to make it halfway there. You tell yourself it’s not completely charming.

“I don’t usually stay this long,” you say after a beat. “At things like this.”

“I know.”

You turn your head. “You do?”

He shrugs. “You’ve kind of made it clear you aren’t into this sort of thing.”

You narrow your eyes, and he smiles into his glass.

“I’m not going to tell you that you need to try harder, you know,” he says.

That catches you off guard.

“I just mean, you don’t need to be more than who you are. If this is all you can give us, then it’s more than enough. You don’t have to try to be someone you’re not to fit in with this team. You already do.”

You scoff softly. “How very optimistic of you.”

He glances over. “It’s not optimism. Everyone wanted you here, and you’re here. You stayed. You didn’t fake a phone call and disappear out the kitchen door like you clearly considered when the night began. You’re even letting yourself have a little fun.”

You blink. “That’s quite the assumption.”

Spencer shrugs again, a shy grin curling at his lips. “I read somewhere once about this thing called “profiling.” Apparently it can be pretty accurate,” he jokes.

The corner of your mouth twitches.

“You ever think maybe I’m just waiting to find the right moment to make a break for it?”

He tips his glass at you. “I think if you were, you’d have found it already.”

You pause, watching him. Then, before you can talk yourself out of it, you reach out and gently ruffle the back of his hair where it sticks out unevenly. “Your grooming habits are a war crime, Reid.”

He startles. Actually startles, like you’d tased him.

“I—what?”

You smirk. “You missed a spot back there, Doctor.”

Spencer is frozen. You watch him try to recalibrate, blinking like a machine that just got fed the wrong code.

Because you don’t usually touch people. And he knows that. You know it, too. And the realization hits a beat too late.

Shit. What was that?

You pull your hand back like it burned you and take a step to the side, putting space between you again, pulling the drawbridge back up.

“It was bothering me,” you say flatly, walking it back. “So I fixed it. Don’t overthink it.”

“I… wasn’t going to,” he lies, and his voice is softer now. Almost confused.

A long silence falls between you.

Then, maybe to fill it, he says, “You asked me earlier about the ginger ale.”

“I did. But you don’t have to tell me,” you reply sincerely.

“I don’t mind.” He shifts slightly, the toe of his shoe dragging across the concrete. “I used to drink socially, but after last year, I mostly stopped.”

You glance over. He’s not fidgeting. Not avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah?” you ask, soft but not tentative.

He nods. “I got kidnapped during a case in Georgia. The unsub had dissociative identity disorder, and part of the kidnapping involved injecting me with a drug — Dilaudid.” He says it plainly, like he’s reciting a report, not his own history. “I was only gone a few days, but afterwards, it was… hard to stop. It’s been over a year now, and I’m clean, but I try to avoid anything that might make it easier to slip. Alcohol included.”

There’s a beat — not awkward, just still. You nod.

“I’ll still let myself have a drink once in a while,” he adds, almost as an afterthought. “But tonight didn’t feel like an occasion that warranted it.”

You look at him again, and something in your chest does that strange, stupid twist you’ve learned not to name. Because he didn’t have to tell you any of that. And he didn’t tell it like a performance, or a bid for sympathy. Just… like it mattered to him that you knew. It’s not lost on you that he told you even though you wouldn’t have asked about it again, or that it’s clear he doesn’t offer up this information to just anyone.

You clear your throat. “I’m really sorry that happened to you, Spencer.”

Spencer. The sound of your own voice echoes in your ears. Have you ever even used his first name before now?

Your unexpected softness seems to jar him, but before he can respond, Emily opens the door to the patio from inside and yells something about ordering loaded tater tots. You both wave her off.

Spencer shifts, then glances at you again.

“I don’t dance,” he says abruptly.

You look up at him quizzically. “O…kay? Thanks for the announcement?”

He chuckles. “I’m just putting that out there before Garcia inevitably tries to drag us inside for a conga line or impromptu salsa lesson. I caught a glimpse of her trying to make something like that happen inside before Emily closed the door.”

You smirk. “Well, I’m not going to dance either, so, strength in numbers.”

“Yeah, I could’ve guessed that.”

You raise a brow. “What gave it away?”

“I don’t know,” he says. “You don’t exactly exude prom queen energy.”

“Not unless the prom ends in arson. Or gallons of pig’s blood dropping from the ceiling.”

That makes him laugh.

You finish your martini and lean a hip against the railing beside him. “So you never dance?”

“Never,” he says with a shake of the head.

You reach out and poke him lightly in the chest with two fingers. “Come on, Reid. You’re telling me no one’s ever dragged you out to the floor for one song?”

He stares at the spot you touched like it was seared into him and blinks a few times before remembering he still needs to answer you.

“No one… who lived to tell the tale,” he mumbles with a quiet grin. Another joke, just for you. You laugh a little too hard before you catch yourself and step back again.

You glance through the window, using it like a mirror to steady yourself. Inside, the team is still going strong. Morgan’s doing impressions. JJ’s trying to win a dare against two losers at the pool tables. Emily’s grabbing another round of shots. Garcia’s dancing on a chair and sipping something bright pink with a paper umbrella hanging off the side.

“We should probably go save Garcia before she sprains something.”

Spencer nods, still blinking like he hasn’t recovered. “Only if you agree not to poke me again.”

You consider for a moment before murmuring, “No promises.”

You duck your head and lead the way inside.

And behind you, Spencer follows — slow, stunned, and still glancing down at the hand you’d touched him with.

—

Back inside, the lights seem a little warmer, the room a little blurrier at the edges. You’re not drunk, not exactly. But the martini fuzzed out some of the static in your head, and now the whiskey in your hand — your final drink, you’ve decided — hums a low current under your skin. You stretch your spine, blink twice, and feel something that almost resembles comfort.

Garcia intercepts you with a plastic tiara and a plea to sing backup on “Like a Virgin.” You stare her down in silence for a full five seconds until she shrugs in defeat and says, “Your loss, babe,” then grabs JJ instead and twirls her toward the mic. Morgan’s trying to scam a free drink from the female bartender using nothing but charm and biceps. Emily is now crushing one of the pool guys in a game of beer pong. Rossi has vanished entirely.

You slide back into your seat and sip the whiskey slowly. Spencer’s beside you again. He nods at your glass. “Second or third?”

“Third. And final,” you say. “Probably.”

He smiles, then observes as you dip a hand into your black leather purse and grab a tube of lipstick, flicking the lid off with practiced ease. You swipe the dark red across your bottom lip, then the top, then smack them together. Your hands are steady. You’ve always been good at precision under pressure.

Spencer watches the whole thing like it’s a card trick.

“That was… impressive,” he says quietly.

You glance at him sideways. “What, my lipstick application?”

“Doing it without a mirror,” he clarifies. “That can’t be something most people are successful at.”

You hum. “I’m not most people.”

“No,” he says quietly. “You’re really not.”

It’s not the words themselves, but the way he says them — like they’re some truth he’s just now understanding. You look away, steadying your glass against your lip before you speak again.

“That sounded dangerously like flirting,” you say, flicking your gaze back to him.

He startles, blinking. “Did it?”

You shrug. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna report you to HR.”

His laugh is soft and awkward, and the tips of his ears go pink. You wonder how many women have ever flustered him like this, wonder what it would feel like to do it on purpose.

You won’t. But you could.

Because the thing is, he sees you. Not just the scowl and the eyeliner and the strategic disinterest — but the rest. The quieter ache you feel beneath it all. And worse, he doesn’t seem scared off by any of it.

Spencer points toward the dartboards hanging on the wall towards the back of the bar. “You any good?”

“At darts?” you reply, eyes sharp, already getting up and making your way towards the boards. “Are you seriously asking me that? Me, sharp objects, and schooling drunk men in bars?” He blinks at you blankly. “Of course I'm good at darts, Reid.”

The battered wood frame is splintered in one corner, one sad dart dangling by the tip. You pull it loose and twirl it once between your fingers.

“Used to hustle college guys,” you say casually. “They always assumed the girl in fishnets couldn’t aim.”

“Did you… wear fishnets to bars specifically to fluster and hustle men?” Spencer asks, half-scandalized, half-impressed.

You throw the dart — bullseye. “What do you think?”

He laughs again, boyish and quiet and a little breathless, then carefully tosses one of his own. It surprisingly lands just left of center.

You raise a brow. “So you’re pretty good, too.”

“It’s mostly just physics,” he says with a shrug.

You roll your eyes with a quiet laugh and take another sip of your drink. The whiskey burns a little now — a reminder to slow down. You’re dangerously close to enjoying yourself, and that’s always when you make the worst mistakes.

You don’t talk for a while. Just throw. Sip. Throw again, before you and Spencer dive back into conversation about nothing and everything at the same time. The bar’s gone quieter now, the buzz of trivia long since faded into background music and clinking glasses. You throw again, then lean against the wall.

You glance past him, back toward the table — now deserted except for Garcia’s tiara and a few empty glasses. The rest of the team is gone, and you didn’t even notice them leave. You glance up at the clock and realize it’s after 1am.

“Guess we closed the place down,” you murmur.

Spencer nods. “Guess so.”

You exhale slowly, feeling the weight of the night settle in your chest. The comfort of it. The danger of it.

Spencer shifts. “This, um… this was nice.”

You glance at him. “You mean the darts, or the part where I threatened to stab Morgan during trivia?”

He smiles faintly. “Both. All of it.”

You grab your jacket and tip your head toward the door. “Come on. Let’s go before Garcia shows back up with a second wind and tries to make us sing karaoke.”

Spencer nods but doesn’t move — just watches you with that weird, quiet intensity he has, like he’s trying to memorize something without being obvious about it.

And suddenly, you’re hyper-aware of the heat behind your knees. The weight of your hair. The way your pulse seems to catch when he looks at you too long. The fact your eyes just lingered on his perfectly pink bottom lip for half a second too long.

You clear your throat. “You’re kind of a strange guy, Reid.”

“You’re kind of a terrifying girl, Greenaway.”

That makes your mouth twitch into a lopsided smirk. But as you both head for the door, you feel it in your bones: a low, unspoken shift in gravity. Like something’s started, and you’re pretending not to notice. Like maybe he’s pretending, too.

The sidewalk outside is slick with a misting of rain, air thick with the smell of beer and city heat. You step up to the curb and wait for one of the cabs down the block to notice you. Spencer’s beside you, not saying anything. He doesn’t fidget, but he rocks slightly on his heels like he’s working something out in his head. Hands tucked in his pockets. Shoulders a little hunched.

“I’m fine, you know,” you say. “You don’t have to stand there doing your best impression of a security camera.”

That earns a small laugh. “I wasn’t.”

“You were. You’ve got that face.”

He squints. “What face?”

“The one that looks like you’re about to quote a peer-reviewed study on post-midnight cab safety for single women in urban areas.”

He huffs, ducking his head. “There is a study, actually."

“Of course there is.”

A cab pulls up with a low whir and a flash of headlights. You open the door but hesitate before climbing inside, one hand still on the frame.

“Night, Reid.”

You half expect him to fumble a goodbye, or spurt out some awkward fact about the history of taxis. But he just watches you go. You slide into the backseat, and for one strange, fleeting microsecond, you wonder what would’ve happened if you’d asked him to come with you.

The driver merges into the street, and you twist in your seat, just once, to glance back.

Spencer’s still there. Hands in his pockets. Shoulders hunched. Watching the cab pull away like he wasn’t quite ready for the night to end.

—

Your head doesn’t hurt, exactly — more like someone turned the contrast up on the entire world. The overhead lights are too sharp, the elevator ding too shrill, the bullpen voices too loud.

Okay fine, it does hurt. Still, you’ve had worse mornings.

You make it to your desk on time, which is more than you can say for most of the team. Once they do start to filter in, Garcia, clad in sunglasses indoors and clutching a jumbo-sized neon green Gatorade, perches herself dramatically on the arm of Prentiss’s chair, both of them visibly suffering.

You’re just starting to get your files open when you notice it: A to-go coffee cup, neatly placed on the corner of your desk. Not the usual break-room sludge you’ve grown accustomed to. No — this is from that little hipster café three blocks down, the one with indie playlists and criminally overpriced lattes. The logo’s inked in soft black on the side. Your name is scribbled in messy letters across the cardboard sleeve. Underneath it:

Bullseye. –S.R.

You stare at it for a second too long. The coffee’s still hot, and it’s just how you take it on your worst mornings — dark roast, black, with an added shot of espresso. Strong enough to punch you in the chest. You close your eyes on the first sip, and it’s exactly what you need to undo that third drink from last night.

“Well, well, well.”

You don’t have to look up to know where that’s coming from, or why. Morgan’s voice is all grin and zero mercy.

“Looks like someone had a very interesting night.”

You open one eye. “Careful, Morgan. I have a headache and at least one knife in my bag.”

He chuckles. “I’m just saying. Last I checked, you and Reid were still at the bar long after the rest of us called it.”

Garcia gasps from across the room. “You closed the bar down? Without me?!”

You arch a brow and sip your coffee. “We were playing darts in the back. No one told us the party was over.”

Morgan wiggles his eyebrows. “Darts, huh? Is that what we’re calling it now?”

You snort. “Jesus, Morgan. You’re worse than a high school rumor mill.”

He grins, watching you like he’s trying to catch a tell. “You’re not denying it. You two end up in the same cab home?” he asks with a wink.

You lean back in your chair and pause for a beat, queuing up your retort. “Oh please. If I’d gone home with him, I’d look a lot more exhausted than I do right now,” you say matter-of-factly.

Clearly, that’s not the type of euphemized denial anyone expected to hear. It gets a choked laugh out of Garcia and an impressed little “damn” from Emily.

Morgan smirks, then raises his hands in mock defeat and whistles. “Alright, alright. Point taken. Nothing happened. But if you’re talking like that, then pretty boy’s got more game than I expected.”

You return to your coffee and pretend not to notice how Spencer’s been listening from the far corner of the bullpen this entire time, head buried in a file until he lifts his eyes to meet yours. You don’t look away. Not immediately.

You tilt your coffee cup towards him in silent thanks, and he nods.

Something about the way he ducks his head — the way his fingers twitch faintly on the edge of his folder — tells you he’s thinking about last night, too. And about what you just said.

You let yourself imagine it for one second too long.

Bullseye.

If he wants to make another shot, you might just let him.

ᝰ.ᐟ

PSA: likes do very little for promoting posts on tumblr! if you'd like to support a fic, please reblog!

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lumilasi · 1 month ago

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Finally finished these. I have also written the scene this was based on/was sort of an inspo for. (Fun fact; Originally that brown thing on Jayce's arm was supposed to cover the rune embedded into his arm, but I changed my mind about how the rune works in the plot so uh...he no longer has that in the story, its a non-canon detail lmao)

Here's the scene in question, or its current draft version anyway: (Side note, Commune!Salo plays a MAJOR role in this fic, but also ISN'T like canon at all as Viktor doesn't do brainwashing, he HAS changed to arguable a better person, but in a veeeery different way, you'll see....)

Viktor had to admit, he was relieved to find out the entity had been right after all; that Jayce wasn’t actually angry at him over this. Still though…

”Was…was that why you didn’t speak to me much after that? You were…wondering who Ren was?”

Jayce looks up at him confused, then seems to realize something, eyes widening in alarm. He then stands back up, making his way to the bed to sit down next to Viktor, letting his crutch fall to the floor - a bit foolish perhaps - before grasping his cheeks gently.

”Oh, no no no! I wasn’t—I wasn’t mad at you, no. Just….”

He shifts closer, pressing their foreheads together as his fingers slide down to the sides of his neck, rubbing some strands of Viktor’s hair between them. The touch was so warm it almost makes Viktor shiver, and he swallows down hard, closing his eyes as his free hand lifts up to rest against Jayce’s chest.

”I…wouldn’t have blamed you.”

”No. I was just….I had a lot of things in my mind. Not just Ren and trying to think who her parents might be.”

”Oh? Then what were you thinking about?”

Viktor asks mildly curious now, caressing Jayce’s chest with his thumb; he was quite fond of the fact Jayce hadn’t bothered to put on a shirt coming here tonight. Probably found it a waste of time when he had better things to do.

”Well…a lot. Mum and how worried she must be. If your friends can bring her a message given the curfew situation up top. If Cait blames herself for this, thinking I’m dead. How despite how stupid and reckless my actions were, I somehow got insanely lucky, ending up here of all places.”

Jayce pauses, seemingly getting distracted for a moment by just the feel of Viktor’s hair and skin under his fingertips. Viktor was very afraid his heart would leave his body anytime now to crawl inside Jayce’s.

”…..Admittedly, I am still puzzling over the fact Salo is here, and somehow he’s less of an ass, and you two even seem to be….friends?”

Last words are spoken like a hesitant question; Viktor opens his eyes for a moment, gaze fixating on the hand he held against Jayce’s chest. The glow had crept down to his wrist, still not wanting to touch Jayce, but it was at least visible.

”I….suppose?”

Viktor hadn’t thought about it that much really, but…he admittedly did have Salo accompanying him the most outside Huck. He let Salo call him out in ways others didn’t - or wouldn’t. There was just something about that bluntness, that when removed from the context of Piltover and a political figure looking down at him like an ant, that he appreciated.

There was also, again, what had happened after Finn’s ill-fated invasion attempt. No, even before that, when Salo had had his personal crisis over his past. Perhaps, he’d indeed started to consider the man a friend without even realizing it, and wasn’t that ironic? Even though Salo had admittedly always been a bit more amicable towards them than some others, typically voting in their favor, he had still been just another politician. Another pampered Piltie that cared only how useful you were to them.

That Salo was long gone, replaced by something far more capable than his past, spoiled self with access to all the possible resources could’ve ever been. He had far less now, but held himself with the kind of steady pride that was far more justified and resolute, not based on social hierarchy.

”A lot has happened since you last saw him Jayce, as said.”

”I can tell.”

Jayce chuckles quietly, and they fall silent for a moment, just….enjoying each other’s closeness. Jayce’s warm fingers resting against his neck, playing with his hair, his palm, pressed steady against his chest, feeling Jayce’s heartbeat under his palm, a reminded that he was alive. That this was real.

”….Viktor?”

”Mmm?”

”Can I….kiss you?”

Viktor felt his face glow with a faint blush, but he nods almost shyly, feeling Jayce lean closer, those hands coming up to cup his cheeks. The kiss was soft, and gentle, and incredibly relieving. Solidifying the fact he’d indeed ’painted demons in the walls’ as the entity had put it.

Something clatters on the floor, Viktor vaguely aware that he’d dropped his staff, pressing both hands against the warm and solid chest, gaining a surprised gasp from Jayce, before one hand slips down to his waist. He’s pulled closer, closer, until they’re both pressed flush against each other, Jayce’s fingers firmly laced into his hair.

#artists on tumblr #jayvik #jayce x viktor #fanfic #fic illustration #lumi’s art scribbles #arcane

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tinyfandomknight · 28 days ago

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Yearning | Hiccup Haddock

Pairing: Hiccup Haddock x Reader Summary: You and Hiccup have been tangled in a messy, unspoken situationship for months. Friends, partners, lovers -- though neither of you will admit it out loud. It’s all late-night visits, stolen kisses, heated arguments that end in desperate touches. Neither of you brave enough to call it real. A new villager arrives on Berk. Confident. Charming. Interested in you. He doesn’t play games or hold back. He courts you openly, makes you laugh, gives you what Hiccup never had the courage to promise. Themes & Warnings: jealous!Hiccup, YEARNING I LOVE IT, Hiccup being not so nice sometimes, situationship, cursing, fist fighting, angry!Hiccup, did i say yearning??? love some good yearning, slight angst i guess

Hiccup had really tried for it to be Astrid. One would think it would’ve been easy. Astrid was gorgeous, kind, non-rebellious and respectful to her elders. She was well spoken, worked hard, and was approved of by Stoick. But, of course, just because everything in Hiccup’s life had to be difficult and unexpected, it was you. It was you that made Hiccup’s heart jump, it was you he couldn’t ignore, it was you that even Toothless preferred.

You, with your sharp tongue and sharper instincts. You, who questioned everything and didn’t flinch when he got loud. You, who somehow matched his chaos and made it feel like clarity. You, who challenged him and lit a fire in his chest he couldn’t smother, no matter how hard he tried.

You were reckless and brilliant. Stoick didn’t approve. That should’ve been enough to stop him. It wasn’t.

So you and Hiccup became a secret sort of thing. Something undefined. Something that shouldn’t exist, but kept existing anyway.

Late-night visits to your hut under the guise of dragon reports. Long walks that turned into longer arguments that turned into quiet, breathless moments where neither of you said what you really wanted. His hand brushing yours. His lips brushing your neck.

Never in public. Never discussed. Never claimed.

It wasn't that Hiccup wanted to keep it a secret. In fact, he didn't want it to happen in the first place. He wanted to be able to say with full conviction that what he was doing was the right thing, the right path. But he was doomed to do the most complicated and wrong thing, all the time, every day of his life. It had started with Toothless, then with you.

It was never supposed to happen like this.

That’s what Hiccup told himself every time.

Yet here he was again, pressed against you in the dim glow of the forge, your breath hot against his neck, his hands gripping your hips like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go.

(Maybe you would. Maybe that was the point.)

The argument had started hours ago, something stupid, something about dragon training techniques, something neither of you actually cared about. But it had escalated, as it always did, voices sharpening, bodies leaning in too close, tension coiling tighter and tighter until--

Snap.

His mouth crashed against yours.

No hesitation. No tenderness. Just heat, frustration, need.

You bit his lip. He groaned.

This was wrong.

Your back hit the workbench, tools clattering to the floor. His hands were under your tunic before he could think better of it, fingers tracing the scars he knew by heart -- the one from the Monstrous Nightmare burn, the thin line from a poorly executed axe throw.

"Gods," you hissed between kisses, "I can't stand you, Haddock."

His grip tightened, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled you closer.

"Liar," he growled against your mouth, voice rough with something between anger and want.

You laughed -- sharp, breathless -- and tangled your hands in his hair, tugging just hard enough to make him curse.

"Prove it," you challenged.

And he did.

His teeth grazed your throat, his hands mapping every inch of you like he was memorizing it, like he needed to. The forge was too hot, the air too thick, but neither of you cared. Not when his name was spilling from your lips like a prayer, not when your nails raked down his back, leaving marks he’d have to hide later.

It was reckless. It was messy.

When you were done, you quickly loosed your hair, rebraiding it so it looked just as it had when you came in. You ruffled your tunic, readjusting it, and you watched Hiccup do the same.

Wiping your eye makeup, you glanced at him again.

"We can't keep doing this."

Hiccup didn't answer, opting to pretend he didn't hear it. He always did this. He didn't want to acknowledge that it was an issue unless it was on his terms.

"It's a secret because you want it to be. But someone's gonna find us out sooner than later, Hiccup."

Your words hung in the air, sharp as the blade he'd been sharpening before this, before you, had derailed him completely.

Hiccup kept his back turned, fingers tightening around the edge of the workbench. The wood creaked under his grip.

"No one's going to find out," he said, too calm, too controlled.

You scoffed. "You don't know that."

"I do," he snapped, finally whirling to face you. His eyes burned, not with anger, not with frustration, but with something far more dangerous. "Because I make sure of it."

The silence that followed was thick, suffocating.

You crossed your arms. "That's not the point."

"Then what is the point?" His voice dropped, rough and raw. "What do you want me to say?"

I want you to choose me.

I want you to stop pretending this doesn't matter.

I want you to be as brave with me as you are with everything else.

But you didn't say any of that.

Instead, you straightened your shoulders and met his gaze, unwavering. "I want you to stop acting like this is nothing."

Hiccup flinched.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

The forge door rattled.

You both stiffened.

"Hiccup?" Astrid's voice, sharp and impatient. "You in there? Your dad's looking for you."

Hiccup didn't take his eyes off you.

"Yeah," he called back, voice carefully even. "Be right there."

A pause. Then footsteps retreating.

You exhaled, slow and deliberate.

"We're not done," you muttered, brushing past him.

Hiccup caught your wrist.

For a second, just a second, his thumb traced the inside of your pulse point, soft, almost apologetic.

Then he let go.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "We never are."

And just like that, you were gone.

Leaving him standing there, alone, with the ghost of your touch still burning on his skin.

Oddly, after that, the two of you went days without another incident. You did your job, tending to dragons and making plans. And he did his. You barely spared each other a glance, just like normal, in fear that the others would connect the dots. You spoke when you had to, when your jobs overlapped and you had to work together.

Hiccup missed you, but he was content.

Until fucking Erik.

The moment that grinning, broad-shouldered outsider had stepped off his ship and looked at you, really looked at you, with that open, unashamed admiration, Hiccup had felt something ugly twist in his gut.

And then it got worse.

Because Erik didn’t hide it. Didn’t play games. Didn’t pretend.

He just… wanted you.

And you--

You let him.

Hiccup watched, jaw clenched, as Erik leaned in too close when he spoke to you, as he laughed at your jokes like they were the funniest thing he’d ever heard, as he touched you -- casual, easy, like it was allowed.

It was. That was the worst part.

Hiccup had never given you that. Had never claimed you, not even in the dark when it was just the two of them. He’d kissed you like a thief, like he was stealing something he had no right to.

And now Erik was here, giving you everything Hiccup had been too afraid to offer.

It burned.

Even Toothless hated it. He watched as you got to know Erik's dragon, running a hand down his pretty scales and scratching behind his ear.

Erik's dragon, Terror, was a Monstrous Nightmare, like the one you'd been attacked by so many years ago. But Erik didn't allow you to be afraid. He held the back of your hand as he helped you conquer your fear, allowing you to pet the monster in front of you, the dragon giving a puff of approving smoke.

Toothless's eyes flicked up to Hiccup's, a show of irritation. He grumbled in annoyance.

"I know, bud. Me too." Hiccup said, rolling his eyes.

The final straw came during the evening feast.

Erik had brought you a gift: a delicate silver pendant shaped like a dragon’s wing. "Saw it at the trader’s post," he said, grinning as he fastened it around your neck. "Reminded me of you."

You touched it, smiling in a way that made Hiccup’s chest ache. "It’s beautiful. Thank you."

Across the fire, Hiccup’s grip on his tankard turned white-knuckled. Toothless, curled beside him, let out a low, warning growl.

Astrid elbowed him. "You’re glaring."

"I’m not glaring," Hiccup muttered.

"You are," she said flatly. "And if you don’t stop, someone’s going to notice."

Hiccup didn’t care.

Because Erik was still touching you, his fingers lingering at the nape of your neck, his thumb brushing your collarbone. Casual. Easy. Allowed.

And then--

Then you leaned into it.

Something inside Hiccup snapped.

He stood abruptly, knocking over his drink.

Silence fell.

Every eye in the hall turned toward him.

You looked up, startled.

Hiccup didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just stared at you, his breath coming too fast, his pulse roaring in his ears.

For one endless second, your gazes locked, and he saw the flicker of something in your eyes. Challenge? Defiance?

Guilt?

Then Erik shifted, his arm sliding possessively around your shoulders.

Hiccup turned on his heel and walked out.

Toothless found him later, perched on the cliffs, staring at the sea.

The Night Fury nudged his shoulder with a whine.

"I know," Hiccup said hoarsely. "I know."

Toothless huffed, unimpressed.

Below them, they heard it. Your infectious giggle, a wild laugh and a splash. Hiccup's eyes dropped down, only to see you and Erik playing in the water by the dock.

Your braid was a mess, hair plastered to your forehead. He could see your beautiful e/c eyes from up there, the sun making them even brighter. Your under-clothes revealed your tanned skin.

Hiccup's breath caught in his throat.

You were glowing.

Erik said something, Hiccup couldn’t hear what, and you laughed again, head thrown back, the sound ringing across the water like music. Then Erik scooped you up, spinning you before tossing you back into the waves with a splash. You surfaced, gasping and grinning, shoving him back with a playful shriek.

It was easy.

It was right.

And it destroyed him.

Toothless let out a low, mournful croon, sensing the shift in Hiccup’s posture, the way his shoulders slumped, the way his grip on the cliff’s edge tightened until his knuckles turned white.

"She looks happy," Hiccup murmured, voice rough.

Toothless flicked his ear, unimpressed.

Hiccup swallowed hard. "Yeah, bud. I know I’m an idiot."

The Night Fury snorted, as if to say, Then do something about it.

But Hiccup just sat there, watching as Erik reached for you again, as you let him pull you close, as your fingers lingered on his arm --

Stop.

The word burned through him, sharp and sudden.

Stop pretending.

Stop running.

Stop letting her go.

Before he could second-guess himself, Hiccup pushed to his feet.

Toothless perked up immediately, tail lashing in anticipation.

"Yeah, yeah," Hiccup muttered, swinging onto the saddle. "Let’s go."

The Night Fury didn’t hesitate.

They dove.

Wind roared in Hiccup’s ears as Toothless streaked toward the docks, wings tucked tight, the sea blurring beneath them. You looked up just as they pulled out of the dive, skimming the water’s surface, close enough to send a wave crashing over Erik.

The man stumbled back, coughing.

You, however, stood perfectly still, staring at Hiccup with wide eyes, seawater dripping from your clothes.

Hiccup dismounted before Toothless had fully landed, boots hitting the dock with a thud.

Erik wiped his face, scowling. "What the hell, Haddock?"

Hiccup ignored him.

His gaze was locked on you.

"You ready to stop ignoring me?" He asked hoarsely, green eyes staring at you. You felt the heat from them warming your cool, dripping skin.

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms.

"Ignoring you?" You said snidely, glaring at him. "Spending time with someone I matter to is ignoring you?"

Hiccup flinched like you'd struck him. The words cut deeper than any blade, and for a moment, he just stood there, jaw clenched, breath ragged, water from his dive still dripping from his hair.

Then he stepped closer. Close enough that you could see the flecks of gold in his stormy green eyes, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him despite your soaked clothes.

"You do matter to me," he said, voice rough. "You know that."

You scoffed, but your traitorous heartbeat stuttered. "Could've fooled me."

Before Hiccup could respond, Erik's hand met his shoulder, shoving him away from you. He didn't move far, but it was enough to redirect his attention to the man that had captured yours. Toothless growled, claws digging into the dirt, but Hiccup gave him a calming glance.

Erik's grip tightened on Hiccup's shoulder, his voice low and dangerous. "Leave her alone, Haddock. She doesn't want--"

Hiccup's eyes flashed, something wild and untamed sparking in their depths. For a split second, you saw the dragon rider in him, the warrior who had faced down legends and won.

Then his fist connected with Erik's jaw.

The crack echoed across the docks.

Erik crumbled to the ground, pain spreading along his face, blood dripping from his lip. Hiccup did nothing but look down on him, face disinterested as if he was a discarded piece of trash.

Erik held his bleeding face, looking up at Hiccup in surprise.

"You son of a--"

Hiccup cut him off.

"Get out of here. You had your time with her, it's my turn."

"Haddock, I swear--"

"Go. Now."

Erik, rather than taking his chances on someone he'd completely underestimated, climbed up from the dirt while eyeing your horrified expression. With one last glare, he turned to walk away.

Then he stopped and turned back.

"What would your father think about the new chief, Hiccup?"

Hiccup's entire body went rigid. A shadow passed over his face, darker than any storm cloud. The air around him seemed to crackle with barely restrained fury.

You saw the exact moment Erik realized he'd crossed a line he couldn't come back from.

Toothless let out a warning growl, his spines rising along his back.

Hiccup took one step forward -- slow, deliberate. Then another.

Erik stumbled back.

"My father," Hiccup said, his voice terrifyingly calm, "would have thrown you off this dock and let the Scauldrons have you by now."

Erik paled.

Hiccup didn't touch him. Didn't need to. His gaze alone was enough to make Erik swallow hard.

"But I'm not my father," Hiccup continued, tilting his head slightly. "So I'll give you one last chance. Walk away. And if I ever see you near her again--" He paused, letting the threat hang in the air.

Erik didn't wait for the rest. He turned and fled, his boots pounding against the wooden planks.

Silence settled over the docks.

Hiccup exhaled sharply, his shoulders slumping slightly. Then he turned to you, his expression shifting from cold fury to something softer -- something uncertain.

You stared at him, heart pounding.

He opened his mouth, then closed it. Ran a hand through his hair.

"I, uh... probably shouldn't have done that," he muttered.

You nodded, looking out over the horizon.

"Probably not. Stoick doesn't even like me, and you're tarnishing your chiefly reputation by fighting my.. Whatever he was." You hummed.

Hiccup stepped closer, his boots scuffing against the worn dock planks. "My dad didn't like me much either at first," he said quietly. "Took him a while to see what was right in front of him."

You turned to face him, the sea breeze tugging at your damp clothes. "And what's that?"

"That sometimes the things that test us the most are the only things that make sense."

You softened for a moment. Then you turned away again.

"Erik will probably never speak to me again. Or even look at me," You snorted. "You've made sure of that."

Hiccup's jaw tightened, but his voice was surprisingly gentle when he spoke.

"Good."

You whipped your head around to glare at him, but the intensity in his gaze stopped you cold. The setting sun painted his profile in gold, highlighting the stubborn set of his jaw, the way his fingers flexed at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching for you.

"You think I care about Erik?" Hiccup continued, eyes locked onto you. "You think I care about anyone else’s opinion when it comes to you?"

The wind carried the salt spray between you, the dock creaking beneath your feet.

"You did. You hid me, Hiccup."

Hiccup squeezed his eyes shut like he was in physical pain. For a long long moment, he just stood there.

Then he closed the distance between you in two quick strides. His hands came up to cradle your face, calloused thumbs brushing your cheeks.

"I was scared," he admitted, voice raw. "And stupid. So, so stupid."

You nodded, a watery smile on your face. The honesty and transparency for the first time in months made tears well up in your eyes.

"Yeah. You are pretty stupid."

Hiccup let out a choked laugh, his own eyes suspiciously bright. "Astrid did warn me I was being an idiot."

His thumbs brushed away the tears trailing down your cheeks, his touch unbearably gentle.

"But I'm done hiding," he whispered. "Done pretending. If the whole village has to watch me lose my mind over you, then so be it."

You sniffled, looking up at him through wet eyelashes.

"Really?"

"Really." He nodded passionately, stroking your cheek again.

Leaning in, he pressed a long kiss to your forehead, savoring the feeling of your skin on his. Then, he wiped the tears from under your eyes gently.

"I love you." He admitted, eyes shining with the final freedom of being able to admit it.

You beamed.

You let out a shaky laugh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his tunic. "Better late than never, Haddock."

He laced his fingers into yours, tugging you a little bit.

You stumbled, following him.

"Where are we going?"

He smiled in amusement.

"To see my dad. No more hiding, right?"

Hiccup's hand was warm and sure in yours as he led you through the village, his stride purposeful. The evening torches flickered to life around you, casting dancing shadows across his determined expression.

You squeezed his fingers. "You're serious about this? Right now?"

He didn't slow down. "Should've done it years ago," he said, throwing you a lopsided grin over his shoulder that made your heart stutter.

As you neared the Great Hall, your steps faltered. "Hiccup, wait--what if he--"

Hiccup turned abruptly, cradling your face in his hands. "Then we'll face it together," he said firmly. His thumbs traced your cheekbones. "I'm proud that it's you. We have nothing to be ashamed of."

You took a deep breath, nodding against his palms.

The heavy oak doors of the Great Hall loomed before you. Hiccup gave your hand one last reassuring squeeze before pushing them open with his free hand.

The warmth and noise of the evening feast spilled out - the clatter of tankards, boisterous laughter, the scent of roasted meat and ale. But as you stepped inside behind Hiccup, the lively atmosphere seemed to freeze in place.

Every head turned. Conversations died mid-sentence. Even the serving wenches paused with their trays.

At the high table, Stoick set down his tankard with a heavy thud. The firelight reflected in his piercing gaze as it traveled from your joined hands up to Hiccup's determined face.

"Well," Stoick's voice boomed through the silent hall, "it's about damn time."

Hiccup's shoulders relaxed slightly. "So... you're not angry?"

Stoick snorted, stroking his beard. "Angry? Boy, I've been waiting months for you to stop moping." He raised his tankard in your direction. "I wasn't sure about the lass at first, but.. She's good at keeping you alive, whether she's trouble or not." He teased.

A ripple of laughter spread through the hall. You felt Hiccup's fingers tighten around yours as he shot back, "She's more than capable - she's been putting up with me this long, hasn't she?"

Astrid's voice rang out from the warriors' table, "And doing a better job of it than the rest of us!"

As the hall erupted in good-natured cheers and toasts, Stoick gestured you forward. "Come then, don't just stand there. Let's have a proper look at the woman who finally tamed my stubborn son."

Hiccup leaned close as you walked, his breath warm against your ear. "Told you it would be fine."

You elbowed him gently. "You were the one hiding me."

"My fault," he murmured, pressing a quick kiss to your temple that drew another round of cheers from the assembled Vikings.

And as you took your place beside Hiccup at the high table - not hidden in shadows, but proudly at his side - you realized this was where you'd always belonged. The warmth of the hall, the boisterous singing, the weight of Hiccup's arm around your shoulders - it all felt like coming home.

#how to train your dragon #httyd #hiccup haddock #how to train your dragon x reader #hiccup haddock x reader #how to train you dragon: the hidden world #httyd hiccup #httyd imagine #httyd imagines #httyd hiccup haddock x reader #httyd hiccup x reader #stoick haddock #stoick the vast #httyd stoick #hiccup haddock x you #hiccup haddock oneshot #hiccup haddock fanfiction #hiccup haddock fluff #hiccup x reader

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gloomwitchwrites · 6 months ago

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Pssst...141!boys + König and their partners' father giving a "shovel talk"? Let's be real, if any of the boys heard their teammate was cheating or mistreating their partner, all respect would be out the windows and they'd beat the shit out of him themselves?

Firstly, and y’all can absolutely laugh at me about this, I could not comprehend what a “shovel talk” was. The term sounded familiar, and even with the rest of your request, I was still like “huh, weird.” And it wasn’t until I looked it up that it dawned on me. For real, I was looking like Winona Ryder in that one GIF of her where she’s looking around on stage at an award show like she has no idea what’s happening.

I’m going to split this up into two categories. With them “receiving” the talk from others and them “giving” the talk to someone.

MDNI

written w/ gn!reader

John Price

Receiving the talk: Quiet, stoic, and calm throughout the conversation. Speaks with a cool monotone, and doesn’t reveal how he’s truly feeling. Inwardly, he’s absolutely rolling his eyes because he would never, but doesn’t fault the person for threatening him. He might do the same in their shoes.

Giving the talk: Very clear with his messaging while not being overly blunt. Price is more likely to make a subtle threat than an outright one. He saves those sorts of threats for people who have actually wronged him or those he cares about.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Receiving the talk: Completely apathetic. He knows what kind of man he is and how he treats those he cares about. Kyle leads with integrity and he’s not going to simply put that aside. If anything, he might reassure the other person, or just agree with them. He’s not going to take it personally.

Giving the talk: Very casual and up front about it. Will make it more of a general conversation and won’t be confrontational about it. Kyle sees it more as a little reminder that he’s watching and keeping tabs.

John “Soap” MacTavish

Receiving the talk: He’s absolutely insulted that the talk is being had in the first place. Johnny prides himself on being a gentleman, and would never raise a hand to you anyway. So, the fact that someone is going out of their way to intimidate him honestly pisses him off. And he’s not afraid to tell that person off. Unless that someone is a peer he respects (like a member of 141). He’d be much more receptive if one of them talks to him.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely make a clear threat in an intentionally scary way and then it with a pat of the back and a joke.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

Receiving the talk: Dead silent during the whole conversation. The kind of silent where he observers and listens and doesn’t contribute at all. Y’all know what I’m talking about. And this man isn’t crossing his arms at all or popping a hip. He’s standing there with his arms at his sides, unmoving. In fact, it’s so off-putting and intimidating that the person giving the talk is likely to wrap it up quick.

Giving the talk: Says the bare minimum…but he’s blunt, direct, and very clear in his messaging. Simon will absolutely make that threat with detail if he needs to.

König (Bonus)

Receiving the talk: König finds it funny that anyone thinks they can actually intimidate him over this. He’ll absolutely amuse the idea, and let the person talk, but he’s giving no signs that he’s taking them seriously or that he’s put out about by threatening him. And really, how can they? This man is all broad shoulders and height. If anything, he’s going to intimidate them.

Giving the talk: Will absolutely give the talk with a smile on his face and a few jokes. That doesn’t mean he’s any less intimidating. König positions himself in such a manner that he towers off the person he’s talking to. Sure, he’s giving the threat with a smile and a little light-hearted banter, but the meaning is the same, and that’s what ultimately matters.

CoD Headcanons / AUs / Quick Writes Masterlist

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sthilarions · 4 months ago

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I’ve been sitting for many months on a meta about what Edwin did and did not know about Charles’s history, because I think Crystal was wildly misunderstanding what he meant due to cultural mismatch, and I’m very curious as to what he did mean. I’ve been sitting on it because I’m not best pleased with how it’s come out but whatever here it is anyway

To start with: Crystal thinks Edwin calling Charles’s dad “rough” is a dismissal and reflects a misunderstanding of the physical facts of the situation. I do not. Crystal’s missing Edwin’s cultural context here. In Edwin’s time, extremely severe corporal punishment was completely normalized. Edwin would unquestionably have experienced it; that’s not headcanon, it’s just historical fact. In Edwin’s cultural context, a parent being “rough” - so violent/out-of-control it goes past even that level of normalized beating to be namably unusual - is… A Lot. If anything, what he’s picturing is, on a purely physical level, more extreme than what we actually see happening to Charles.

I also don’t really think he’s missed the psychological effects, either (as Crystal assumes he has), though this one’s more nebulous. He’s very careful, with how he expresses anger and disapproval around Charles; Charles is the one who explicitly says he avoids being visibly angry around Edwin, but we see Edwin being careful about it, too. Edwin gets harmlessly snippy about meaningless things, and trusts Charles won’t take it to heart, yeah (We have the same left!). But when there’s, like, actually a problem?

Charles smashed a very important magical item and Edwin just calmly said “Time for another discussion on your impetuous behavior.” Which is disapproving, yeah, but imagine what he’d’ve said if it were Crystal; and it is notably less disapproving (and less loud/emotional) than when Charles does things that are much less significant, suggesting Edwin has deliberately downshifted because they’re now in territory where he risks Charles taking him seriously.

Charles murders someone, brutally, while she isn’t fighting back, with, as far as Edwin knows, minimal provocation, and Edwin’s reaction is a careful, quiet, “Charles, that was… extreme.” Which, again, is negative, or at least Charles heard it as such, but it’s also so much less negative than it could have been. Than, frankly, it would be reasonable for it to have been.

The one time we see Edwin actually yell at Charles - when he’s deeply re-traumatized, is so worried about Charles he’s 90% out of his mind from that alone, and the other 10% from everything else, has lost almost all of his filters - he says what Charles did, putting himself in danger, is “so fucking stupid it’s unbelievable” (not Charles, incidentally, but what Charles did) and then immediately apologizes. He’s barely coherent and he takes about 15 seconds to start apologizing sincerely for having yelled at Charles.

Which is all one specific narrow thing, yeah. But, like, it shows something, you know? And what it shows is that Edwin is careful, with Charles. Not just instinctively kind and gentle in general, but protectively careful… in a way that specifically reflects a knowledge that Charles has certain Issues.

(Remember when he introduced himself with “I shan’t hurt you”, because he could tell Charles was afraid, even in the first few seconds? He’s had a lot of time, since then, to learn the exact shape of Charles’s fear.)

So what is Edwin missing, then? My best answer is that he’s missing Charles’s - and even more so Crystal’s - cultural context. He’s missing “we’re allowed to admit this isn’t okay now, we’re allowed to say how much it hurts, how much it fucks you up”. He’s missing not the physical facts of the matter; not even the emotional damage therefrom; but the fact that these things aren’t normal anymore. That you’re allowed to call this “abuse” instead of “discipline”.

His failure to make a connection in the Devlin house was because even if he’s started to adjust to modern expectations of child-rearing (though given that he still believes in hysteria, that may be giving him a bit too much credit) he still, on an instinctive level, doesn’t find this so unusual that it occurs to him Charles might make a specific mental association.

Like, yeah, Mr. Devlin axe-murdered his family and that’s a bit odd even for 1916 (though I will note filicide being blanketly illegal is more recent than you’d think). But Mr. Rowland didn’t axe-murder his family; the connection Charles is making isn’t through the act, it’s through the fact of abuse/control, and that would not ping as memorable to Edwin.

…anyway, as I said, I don’t really like how this meta ended up, tbh, largely because I don’t feel like I can convey well what I think Edwin did learn (the effect of differing cultural context) without talking about some very extreme topics that I do not want to address here. But, like -

TL;DR:

“Rough” means something different to Edwin than to Crystal (and most of the audience). Edwin almost definitely knew Charles was badly physically abused; this was not new information. He very probably knew Charles was psychologically affected by it; this was unlikely new information. The new information Crystal gave him was the cultural context of that abuse.

#dead boy detectives #charles rowland #edwin payne #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #mine #abuse tw #child abuse tw

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thepigeonhasapen · 10 months ago

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Finding Them When They're Trapped: Olympian Edition (NSFWish)

(I promise I'm working on requests but the horny bug bit ok)

🩷Aphrodite🩷

"Oh, darling, I'm afraid something simply tragic has happened. One of my suitors has taken advantage of me and left me like this!"

"...In your own bedchamber?"

Aphrodite waves a hand. As well as she's able to with the short chain connecting it to the bedpost anyway. "Sweetheart, it's sex. We don't need to apply logic to it."

"...I see." You sit next to Aphrodite, admiring the way the restraints draw her body into long, smooth curves. She wriggles in her chains, a deliberate enticement. An enticement too is the way she's looking at you, lashes fluttering and eyes locked sweetly upon your own.

"As I was saying..."

"Yes, yes, a horrible man left you tied to a bed and now I'm here to take advantage of that fact?"

"You do catch on quick, my dear."

⚔️Ares⚔️

Ares does not think this is funny. Unfortunately for Ares it is objectively pretty funny.

He glares at you from the bed, squirming against his chains. "Stop laughing and let me loose."

"I can't believe Aphrodite just left you like this!" You giggle. "I'm pretty sure she just straight up forgot you were here actually."

You can tell Ares is positively fuming about the whole thing. The headboard creaks as he yanks at the cuffs, but all the furniture upon Olympus is far too durable to break that easily. He glares at you once more and then sighs.

"Will you please set me free? I have something I wish to discuss with our dear Aphrodite."

Aphrodite has been so kind as to leave your favorite god naked, and you take advantage of this by resting your hand on his groin. You don't miss the sharp intake of breath when your skin touches his own.

"But it would be such a shame to let you go when I already have you here like this."

"I... be that as it may, I-" Ares's pupils blow wide with lust as you swing onto the bed to straddle his lap.

"Aphrodite isn't going anywhere. And-" You laugh. "Neither are you apparently."

"I suppose... my evening might still be salvageable after all."

🏹Artemis🏹

How embarrassing... to get caught in one of her own traps. Artemis is never going to live this down if anyone finds out about it. Too late for her, though, you've already found out about it.

"It's not funny! I just forgot where I set it, okay? Now let me down so we can both forget this ever happened."

Perhaps Artemis might be more intimidating if she wasn't blushing so fiercely. Oh yeah, and hanging upside-down by her ankle from a tree branch. That too.

"So if you're the prey, what's hunting you then? A deer? A bunny?"

You didn't think it was possible but Artemis blushes even harder. "Yeah, yeah, just get me down."

"Deal... but in exchange for not telling anyone about this, you'll owe me."

If looks could kill, not only would you be dead, you'd have been vaporized from existence. You start to walk away. "Or I guess you could just wait for somebody else to come by... Hermes, maybe?"

It doesn't take long for Artemis to break. "Okay, okay, deal! Now cut me loose before somebody sees."

As you're helping her down, Artemis shoots you another dirty look. "You’re just lucky I've got a soft spot for you."

🦉Athena🦉

One of the last places you expect to find Athena is stuck in a hole in the ground, but here you are. She looks up at you, visibly relieved to catch sight of you.

"Hail, Y/N. It would seem the Lady Artemis is leaving her pit traps strewn about the grounds. Again. I really must have a word with her about it. But first I require your assistance."

"Oh yeah? I hope you're not expecting me to carry you out of that hole." Look, Athena's like twice your size. You love her but it's just not gonna happen.

"No, nothing of the sort. If you could run to Hephaestus's workshop and fetch a ladder..."

You sit down at the edge of the hole, elbows resting on your knees. "I might do that. But to be honest, it's kinda hot seeing you be bested every once in a while."

"I was not bested. This was no battle of wills. This was my foolish half-sister being careless once again."

"Still... you being trapped is kinda doing it for me."

Athena sighs. "If you fetch me a ladder, I swear I will let you tie me up to your heart's content. Do we have an arrangement?"

"Done."

And you can't wait to take her up on that.

❄️Demeter❄️

"I'm going to kill that wretched foster brother of mine. We'll see if he can still throw his precious lightning bolts when he's encased in ice."

You've stumbled across Demeter cuffed to the railing of her balcony. You don't quite know what happened, but Zeus had something to do with it from the sounds of it.

"He told me I ought to get more sun! That it would be good for me! Put a smile on my face! Pah, as if there's anything to smile about upon this blasted mountain."

"Ahem," you say.

Demeter softens. "Ah... my apologies. Of course you give me cause to smile quite often."

"Would it make you smile if you said you looked cute in those cuffs?"

Demeter doesn't look in the slightest bit amused. "It most decidedly would not."

"Ah."

🍇Dionysus🍇

Dionysus had asked you to meet you in his vineyard but how strange, he doesn't seem to be here. Well, since you're here, you may as well look around. As you wander deeper through the plants, you hear rustling and the sounds of someone struggling.

He looks almost sheepish when you find him, half-buried in foliage with rogue vines twined around his limbs.

"Hey, so uh... there may have been a little... incident. Would you mind maybe lending a hand?"

"Don’t you have control over grapevines?"

"...These are special grapevines, yeah?"

And how kind of the vines to splay him out so beautifully. And to let him take off his cape first. And that all of his usual retinue is conveniently absent.

Dionysus shivers when you run a hand down his muscled chest. "And how exactly am I meant to help you if even a god as powerful as you can't set yourself free?" You stop just above where you're certain he wants you to touch him. "Shall I fetch someone to help?"

Dionysus whines when you remove your hand. "You’re such a damn tease, man! Just have your way with me already."

"I'm a tease? I'm not the one who's tied myself up in hopes of being ravaged."

"If you want we can switch places." Dionysus offers playfully.

"Hmm. Maybe later." You think you're gonna pass this up? Not a chance.

🪽Hermes🪽

You didn't expect to find the Messenger of the Gods tangled in a bunch of vines, but to be perfectly fair you're pretty sure he didn't intend for you to find him like that either.

"Oh, hi there, boss. I seem to have encountered a spot of trouble here but don't you worry, I'll be out in a jiffy."

He squirms, trying to free himself, but he's really just making the problem worse. Something he soon figures out when he sighs and looks helplessly at you.

"Don’t suppose you'd care to lend a hand?"

"Haha, oh alright," you manage through your giggles. "Hold on just a moment."

"Kinda can't do anything else," he points out.

You wade into the bushes, reaching for the vines that ensnare his wrist. Unfortunately, there's a bit more of them than you bargained for. One catches on your foot and you go tumbling forward, knocking both you and Hermes to the ground.

"Shit, sorry!"

But Hermes doesn't look as bothered as you thought he would. It's probably because your hand has landed squarely on his groin. You hadn't quite been sure if he was blushing before, but now he most certainly is.

He's not quite looking at you as he says, "You know it would really be a shame for you to let an opportunity like this go to waste, you know."

...He makes a valid point.

🔱Poseidon🔱

"Damn that blasted nephew of mine! I swear when I catch him, I'll- oh hello, dear! Would you mind helping your favorite sea god out of the predicament he's found himself in?"

You laugh. You can't help it; Poseidon looks absolutely ridiculous looking at you upside-down from the floor. Somehow he's ended up wrapped head to toe in chains, his arms pinned behind his back and his legs bound firmly together.

"What happened here?"

"That good for nothing nephew of mine, Hephaestus swore to me that he'd created chains so powerful that nothing could break them! I, of course, had to put such notions to rest. Nothing can overpower the might of the sea! Anyway, I uh..."

"So you let Hephaestus do this to you?"

You've never seen Poseidon look quite so flustered. "I, er... well, we don't need to linger on the past. Why don't you set me free and we can both go out to a nice dinner?"

"Not a chance, sea god." You drop to the floor beside him, greedily taking advantage of a sight you so rarely get to see. The might of Poseidon, bound. And looking quite handsome in his chains if you do say so yourself. "I think I've got a better idea than dinner."

It doesn't take Poseidon but a moment to catch your drift. "Ha! You best take advantage of the moment then because I don't imagine it'll be happening again."

Maybe. Or maybe Hephaestus will let you borrow these chains from time to time...

⚡️Zeus⚡️

It's funny... this situation that you've found Zeus in almost seems... familiar.

"Curses! Damnit... that blasted, darn Hephaestus... and my foul brother. I shall have both their heads for this, I swear..."

"Whatcha doin'?"

You've never seen the King of the Gods blush before. And certainly not so fiercely. "I um... well, I've run into a spot of bother. And it is entirely the fault of that wretched brother of mine. He insisted that these chains were unbreakable. Naturally, I had to show him the error of his ways. None can stand against the power of the heavens!"

Well, apparently being a cocky, arrogant idiot runs in the family. You drop to a crouch beside him, unable to keep the amused grin off your face. "And how's that working out for you?"

"Yes, yes," he huffs, "I can have a sense of humor like any other. You've all had your laugh. Now let me loose."

You reach down and squeeze between his legs, just enough that Zeus's eyes start to go hazy. He won't get mad at you for the imposition; he thinks far too much with his cock for that. "Oh, but I never get to top."

Zeus looks as if he's already having trouble formulating words. "Well... maybe just this once..."

Once? Not if you can help it.

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