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nereidprinc3ss · 3 months

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do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

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18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn you first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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whetstonefires · 1 year

Note

I am a bit surprised at your tags saying you like jar jar, I don't really know anybody who's a fan in 2023. What's the appeal there, would you say?

Did people like JarJar more in the past? I remember when the prequels were new, his poor actor almost died from the harassment. Surely the venom against JarJar has only weakened.

But mmmmm...I guess what I enjoy about JarJar is he just. He sucks so bad. Nobody has any use for him. He's not just bad at emergencies and space and knowing you have to pay for food, he's not even good at Gungan-ing.

But he's just kinda allowed to be like that. He's there. The other protagonists are varying levels of Ugh Why but they don't try to solve him. He gets Recognition From His People at the end of TPM and fails his way upward in galactic politics and has good intentions and tries sincerely and fucks up so so bad, and is dumb as hell.

He doesn't get punished by the story for being a loser. He's allowed.

That's what made so many people so mad at him back when, and I do get it because any scene he's in is hard to take seriously, he's walking bathos, he's like Original Swamp Yoda without the redeeming kung fu drama. But also wow yikes no.

Let me sit with this a bit and let me see if I can turn this vibe into words better.

Like @husborth was totally correct in saying the whole Gungan plotline was a waste of screentime, a fun little excuse plot allowed to run riot due to unchecked directorial hubris, and contributed to the prequel films being atrociously paced pieces of cinema. But (somewhat consequently) there's something luxurious about JarJar Binks being allowed to go around existing so much, something I think is prototypical of the whole prequel tone and its contrast to the snappy war-film energy of the original trilogy in a way that...really works to create the atmospheric contrast between life in the Republic and life under the Empire.

The Republic was a bloated ancient mess of a government riddled with corruptions, and badly out-of-whack power balances and decayed support nets that weren't technically corruption but weren't working well either, and inefficiency.

And also what the fascists like to call decadence. You know?

Like one of the consequences of having a tolerant diverse society is that even when poorly run and afflicted with capitalism it is going to be full of fantastically annoying weirdos who don't have anything better to do than embarrass people by talking, and there's nothing to be done about that that morally can be. You can't Force Choke people for annoying and have a free society. We all gotta make our peace with the fact that JarJar Binks has every right to exist.

Not that JarJar Binks is necessary to any specific piece of media. I am not advocating for annoying gag sidekicks in general. But I am saying that JarJar Binks is metaphorically inevitable, whenever people are allowed to just kinda be.

So his presence on some level feels political to me, inasmuch as Star Wars are actually political films at all, which isn't very much. But definitely not none either!

Also I am old enough to have grown less susceptible to secondhand embarrassment so I am able to forgive JarJar his cringe. He can still be a little painful to watch! But I do like that he's there.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #Star Wars #jar jar binks #star wars prequels

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forjongseong · 9 months

Text

pine-fresh // jay (ENHYPEN)

pairing: slytherin!jay x gryffindor!fem!reader

genre: hogwarts!au, somewhat rivals to lovers, smut (minors dni)

warning: profanity, a lot of making out, fingering // word count: ~4k

summary: a dash of bickering and a whole lot of miscommunication in Potions class landed you and Slytherin's Park Jongseong in detention. did you ask for it? no. did you regret it? also, no.

author's note: at last, the Slytherin!Jay of my imagination has now, sort of, come to life...

ever since I came across that edit you see on the header, I've thought about him A LOT. now that his hair is actually silver, I have thought about him MORE. especially when @jaylaxies made this, which I thought about ALSO a lot... let's just say that Slytherin!Jay has been occupying my mind a lot more than I expected.

my knowledge on the HP universe is quite limited, so please excuse if some scenes don't seem too believable (like Snape somewhat being less strict here, or detention being scrubbing the bathroom). the title of this fic refers to the password that is needed to enter the Prefects' bathroom.

now, I know I say when I post oneshots I intend for them to be standalone fics, meaning that I most likely won't write a part two. but for this one??? if a lot of you like it, and a lot of you ask for it, I might be open to writing a sequel (once I conduct a lengthy research on Hogwarts grounds)

anyway, I hope you enjoy this little treat! I'm trying to shake off my writer's block, so please expect secretary!Jay to return soon.

taglist: @jaylaxies @excusememissiloveyou @thots4hee @end-hyphen @nyanggk @maggstar @bucketofhiros @shinkenprincess-oh @mydarlingjay @mochimchimo @jongseonglogy @strawberrification12 @xiaoderrrr

permanent taglist is open! send an ask or DM if you want to be tagged.

As your House’s Prefect and one of the smartest students at school, you thought it would be impossible to dislike a class. Getting good grades in almost every subject seemed to prove that you liked learning everything, but by God, you hated Potions. Other than the fact that the lessons took place in a literal dungeon, which made it colder than any of the classrooms above, you always had to deal with the unpleasant smell of whatever was brewing in the room. Add the inconvenient detail that half of the class consisted of Slytherin students, which was more than you could tolerate.

You did not know when it started, maybe since the Sorting Hat placed you in Gryffindor or when you witnessed one of your classmates getting teased by a Slytherin, but you had a strong aversion to anything related to that house. It became so bad to the point that whenever you got paired with a Slytherin for an assignment, all you wanted to do was to get the job done quickly for the both of you so you could leave the class as soon as possible.

“Miss L/N,” called Professor Snape. Your head snapped up and you locked eyes with him, somehow convincing him that you had been listening to all his instructions despite staring into the empty vials on your table. “Today you’ll be working with Park Jongseong.”

You nodded softly and once Snape turned his head towards another student, you made an audible groan and leaned back on your chair.

“You don’t sound so happy to be paired with me.”

Jay took the now unoccupied seat beside you and sat with a force that made his robe flutter. The flash of green caught your eye, and you hesitantly pulled your books to your side, making room for his on the table.

“I’ll handle the mixing,” you replied, completely unrelated to his remark.

Jay frowned before letting out a soft chuckle. “Wow, I guess you really aren’t in the mood today.”

You turned your head only slightly enough to shoot daggers at him with your eyes, and his response was just a huff to his face, messing up the silver bangs on his forehead. The sound of Professor Snape’s voice caught your attention, so you straightened up and listened intently, but also noticed how Jay was mimicking you. Once you were all instructed to begin, Jay grabbed his quill and started making notes for the recipe.

For the first couple of minutes, the process went well. You were mixing and adding stuff according to Jay’s dictation. However, after he misread the measurements for a certain ingredient, causing your brew to bubble uncontrollably, you began scolding him and blaming him for everything.

“What’s distracting you? How could you have misread that?” You half-shouted, a handkerchief in your hand as you attempted to clean up your surroundings.

“Maybe if you weren’t shaking so much when you’re holding the vials then I could have paid more attention,” Jay retorted, snatching a vial from your other hand to prevent more spills. “We should switch. You tell me what to do and I’ll redo everything.”

“That will take us even longer, and everyone else is already halfway done,” you complained as you looked around the class. You saw Professor Snape eyeing your table.

“Do you have another solution?” Jay asked, staring back at you.

You reluctantly agreed to switch tasks, but it turned out that Jay was worse than you. He kept spilling liquid, pouring more than needed, and overall causing more chaos than when he was just giving you instructions. Your grunts and groans were starting to gain the attention of the whole classroom, and by the time you were almost done, the bell rang.

The sound of your quill hitting your book was silenced by the footsteps of the other students exiting the classroom. They had finished their potions, and your table was literally the only one in the room that was still messy, with a mixture that looked too suspicious to be called a potion.

“I have been patient enough to let you two bicker the whole time, but for you to not finish making your potions,” Professor Snape said as he walked back to his desk, his cape almost floating behind him.

“Great, he’s gonna put us in detention,” you muttered to yourself.

“That is correct, Miss L/N,” Professor Snape continued. “Once you’re both done cleaning up your table, meet me in my office.”

The frown you wore on your face was so bad that anybody who saw you could easily tell that you were pissed, but between gathering the books and papers and wiping off spills with a cloth, you could have sworn you saw Jay smirking to himself.

---

As you placed a bucket of water in the middle of the Prefects’ bathroom, you sighed at the exhaustion that you felt despite not having even started your detention. You and Jay were both assigned to clean up the bathroom, which, despite only being restricted to use by the school Prefects, Head Boys, Head Girls, and Quidditch captains, was in an alarmingly grimy state.

You purposefully steered away from the side of the room with the toilet stalls and stood by the large, swimming pool-like tub sunken into the ground with bath taps surrounding it. The tub was drained, and you much preferred scrubbing it to cleaning all the toilets.

Jay was standing by the bath supplies on one side of the pool, staring at the different kinds of soap, bath oils, bath salts, shampoo, and conditioner. It took a while for him to realize you were glaring at him, basically waiting for him to start working already.

“Damn, it would be worth becoming a Prefect just to be able to use this bathroom,” Jay muttered, placing a small bottle of bath oil back in its place. “You must take baths all the time.”

You snorted, audible enough to make it echo throughout the whole room. “I don’t have time for baths.”

“Really? What a shame,” Jay sighed, rolling up his sleeves. “How long do you think it would take for us to finish?”

“If you keep using your mouth instead of your hands, probably a lot longer than I expect,” you replied without a pause, sounding annoyed.

Your snarky remarks did not bother Jay at all. In fact, it amused him, and the way he was laughing softly was not helping at all. He walked over to the stalls and finally began to work only minutes after you started.

“Today is really not your day, huh?” Jay’s voice echoed behind the stalls.

“Thanks to you, it’s not,” you answered, polishing one of the hundred golden bath taps that surrounded the tub.

“You know,” Jay started, only to pause to flush the toilet so he wouldn’t have to compete with the sound. “I have a feeling that you don’t like me.”

You rolled your eyes and moved your bucket to polish the other bath taps. Jay cleared his throat as he waited for your reply.

“Is it because I’m a Slytherin?” He asked. “I mean, it’s kinda unfair that just because I’m in this House, you automatically hate me—”

“I don’t hate you,” you finally responded. “Hate is a strong word.”

“Alright then,” Jay walked out of one stall and looked in your direction before entering the next stall. “So, what’s the story?”

You let out a heavy sigh and wrung out the cloth you were holding. It was a long story, you thought to yourself. You came from a family of Slytherins—both your parents and your older brother were—but since you were old enough to understand and remember things, you had always been the odd one out in your family. They would excel academically and go on to achieve things you never even dreamed of. Your interests were always different, and what got you far at school was thanks to your personality and smart work.

It was still a vivid memory to you, the moment you sat down and let the Sorting Hat analyze you. You thought you would hear a confident ‘Slytherin!’ from the Hat, but after a couple of seconds of deciding, it placed you in Gryffindor. Switching houses was never a thing, so you did what you could and made good friends, studied hard enough to make the professors notice you, and eventually, you earned the title of Prefect as you entered the fifth year.

Despite that, throughout the years in Hogwarts, you kept hearing and witnessing stories about Slytherins, how they always happen to achieve so much but at the same time are notoriously problematic. The house you once dreamed of being a part of quickly became one that you were relieved to be excluded from, but somehow, the longing remains.

Around your third year in Hogwarts, you began hearing chatter about Park Jongseong. He became popular, it seemed, after he was assigned to be the Keeper of Slytherin’s Quidditch team, and also after he had an insane glow-up. You then noticed that he was the quiet nerd who used to bury his nose in whatever book he was reading in a dark corner in the library, but since then, he had ditched his glasses and styled his luscious silver locks in a way that—

“Y/N, are you okay?”

Jay’s voice woke you up from your extensive daydreaming, and it made you realize you were polishing one bath tap for way too long.

“How long were you polishing that tap?” Jay asked, tilting his chin towards your hand.

His question spooked you, and you were beginning to think he might have heard your thoughts. You cleared your throat before moving to the next tap. “Not long, why?”

“Because I’m done with all the toilet stalls, and I noticed you haven’t moved an inch.”

Well, that’s embarrassing, you thought. How long exactly did you zone out for?

“Should I start cleaning the pool’s floor then?” He asked, fixing his folded sleeves before squatting down and then jumping into the empty pool.

“Sure,” you said, immediately picking up your pace and trying your best not to steal any more glances in his direction.

“Listen,” Jay began, both his hands firmly holding a mop. “You got really silent after I asked a question, so I’m sorry that I made you uncomfortable. We can continue to work in silence if that’s what you prefer.”

You smiled as you moved on to the next tap. “It’s fine. I was just tired.”

You refocused on your own task, determined to leave the bathroom spotless, but after a moment, you noticed Jay moving oddly around the pool floor, dragging his mop in a way that was not normal. When you lifted your head to look at him, you saw that he was singing, no, lip-syncing a song and using the mop as a mic stand, completely immersed in his imagination but being considerate not to bother you with noise.

At this sight, you burst out laughing. Jay stood up straight and turned his heel to face you, looking surprised.

“Please,” you said after you contained yourself, “do continue.”

“Miss Prefect,” Jay sighed, “this bathroom is way too huge for only two of us to clean. Do you think we can sneak out and get our wands from Snape’s office?”

You shook your head. “The door is locked with a password.”

“But you’re Miss Prefect,” Jay said, matter-of-factly. “Don’t you know the password?”

“He literally changed it after leaving us here with these cleaning supplies, Jay. I don’t know the new password.”

Jay paused and for a moment you thought he was figuring out a way to escape, when in reality, his stomach just did a backflip from the way his name rolled off your tongue.

“So, what you’re saying is there is literally no way to get out of this bathroom unless we finish cleaning it?” Jay asked.

“That is the point of detention, yes,” you replied, shrugging.

Jay groaned and turned around, pushing his mop and reluctantly continuing to clean the pool floor. You were almost halfway done with polishing all the bath taps, and you sighed as you looked at all the mirrors waiting to be scrubbed clean too.

After a while, Jay finished scrubbing the floors, and you began to wonder if you should have taken his work instead since the bath taps seemed like a never-ending task to complete. He loosened the tie around his neck and undid the first few buttons on his shirt, making you quickly look away.

“Should I help you with the bath taps or start doing the mirrors?” Jay walked over to your side before pushing himself up the edge and then standing up, towering over you.

“Mirrors, please,” you answered, this time tilting your chin to point at the direction of the sinks.

“Really? Because you seem like you’re taking your sweet time polishing all those taps,” Jay said, tilting his head to one side.

You looked up at him and he had this teasing, lop-sided smirk. Meanwhile, the unintentional doe eyes you were giving him made him almost choke on his own saliva.

“Just do the mirrors, Jay.”

You saw him smile the second you finished your sentence, and when he turned his back to you, it somehow looked like his shoulders were happy. He stood in front of the sink and did a quick count on the number of mirrors he had to clean. You saw him start from the far left, where one of the mirrors was cracked on the edge.

“Be careful with that one. Ravenclaw’s Head Girl almost—”

“Fuck!”

You heard Jay groan as he stumbled a few steps back, wincing in pain and shaking his left hand.

“Jay,” you sighed, standing up and throwing the cloth you were holding to the floor. “I didn’t even finish my sentence.”

You walked up to him and stood before him with your hand out. He looked at you questionably before lifting his left hand for you to take a look.

“Is it bad?” He asked, slightly looking away. “I don’t like the sight of blood.”

“That explains a lot,” you muttered, placing your hand carefully over his. “Oh, my God.”

“What? What is it?” Jay asked, his right hand shaking in panic.

“Your fingers are so thick and stubby, like cocktail sausages.”

Jay snorted before pulling his hand away and you giggled.

“It’s just a scratch,” you said in an attempt to calm him down. “You can carry on.”

“Well, do you have something I can use to treat it?” Jay asked.

You were already sitting by the edge of the pool to continue with your polishing. “Do I look like a walking first aid kit to you? Just spit on it and move on.”

Jay looked at you, unsure of your advice. He then turned around and decided to wash his hands with soap. The suds obviously stung, so he was flinching and wincing quietly, but he could see you giggling silently from your reflection in the mirror in front of him.

“Do you really mean it?” Jay spoke, looking at you through the mirror.

“Mean what?”

“That I have stubby fingers,” Jay clarified.

You were unsure what to make of his tone. He sounded curious but also hurt, or maybe…

“So what if you do?” You asked back, not paying attention to him.

The strands of your hair were becoming loose and covering your eyes, and you were dying to fix the scrunchie on your ponytail, but both your hands were wet and occupied with polishing. You kept huffing and puffing and even attempting to move your hair using the movements of your shoulders until Jay sneaked up behind you and tapped you on your arm.

“Here, allow me,” Jay said calmly, tugging on your scrunchie.

You sat up straight and let him pull your scrunchie off, letting your hair cascade to your back. He began brushing your hair with his fingers before gently bunching it into a ponytail. He skillfully tied your hair up into a bun that was less messy than before. You were about to thank him, but he moved from behind you and jumped back into the empty pool, standing in front of you and tucking the loose strands of hair behind both your ears.

His fingers brushed against your ear, and for a moment, you were lost in his eyes. The next thing you felt was his hand behind your neck, pulling you closer as he stood in between your legs, his lips crashing against yours. You sighed as you let yourself be enveloped in his warmth—his tongue tugging yours, his lips devouring yours, his palms pushing against your back, and his breath mixing up with yours.

You felt his hand travel lower down your back, settling on your ass before he pushed you closer to him, earning a soft yelp from between your lips. His mouth detached from yours only to give you a sly smirk before he dove back into you. Your hands rested comfortably on his shoulders as you gave into his every move, and when you felt one of his hands grazing the exposed skin of your thigh from the gap between your skirt and your knee-high socks, you gasped.

“Wanna see what these fingers can do?” Jay asked, speaking right against your lips.

Your eyes searched for his before you nodded a little too eagerly. He chuckled before sliding his hand between your legs and under your skirt. His fingers easily found their place on your clothed cunt, and despite his gentle moves, you could not hold in your moans.

“Jay,” you whimpered, hands bunching up his shirt.

“Oh, I like it when you say my name like that,” he teased, leaving a wet peck on your chin. “Can you say it again?”

He pressed his thumb on your clit before sliding it down your folds, and he could already tell that you were soaked. You were biting your lip, and he chuckled, bringing the same hand that was caressing you up and towards your chin.

“Come on, now,” Jay cooed. “Prefects are usually good students. You’re a good girl, aren’t you?”

His thumb slid upon your bottom lip, and you could almost sniff the scent of your own arousal. You were trembling at this point, desperate to feel more of him, so all you could give as a response was a nod.

“Say my name.”

“Jay—”

Your voice was muffled as he slid in a finger when you opened your mouth. You instinctively sucked on it before he entered another one, and then he hurriedly placed his hand back between your legs, pushing your panties to the side before easily sliding those two fingers inside of you.

“Jay!” You moaned loudly, spreading your legs wider so he could do whatever he wanted to do to you comfortably. Your fingers reached for the back of his head, pulling on his silver locks before you pushed his head to your neck. He began licking the soft skin under your chin before placing wet kisses down your neck. With one hand, you unbuttoned your top and pulled your collar open, giving him more access to your skin. He sucked on your collarbone softly and, at the same time, curled his fingers inside of you.

You repeatedly moaned into his ear, and at some point, you thought you sounded way too pathetic, but the way Jay was thrusting his fingers in and out of you and the way the squelching sound was echoing throughout the whole bathroom made you believe that the sounds you were making were actually quite tame.

“Jay,” you sighed. “Oh, my God.”

Jay lifted his head from your neck and flashed you a proud smirk before leaning in to kiss you again. You whined at the contact, and as your hands found his face, you began to caress him, pull him, and do whatever was necessary to send the message that you wanted him bad.

You felt the increasing pace of his fingers between your legs, and you began to feel the ache in your ass for sitting on the edge of the pool for too long. Jay pressed his thumb on your clit, and you threw your head back in pleasure, grabbing onto his biceps for support. When your moans started to sound higher and more in sync with the movements of his fingers, Jay leaned in and pressed his cheek onto yours before speaking right into your ear.

“Cum for me, will you?”

The deep tone and gentle vibration of his voice sent shivers down your spine, and with that, you finally reached your high. Your legs were shaking, and to soothe you, Jay began kissing your cheek softly. He kept kissing you and moving towards your lips, giving you a long peck before moving down to your chin and neck. He kissed the parts of your skin that were beginning to turn purple, and once he heard your leveled breathing, he pulled away to take a good look at you.

“Good girl,” he said right to your face.

You playfully, and very gently, slapped his face. He let out a wholehearted chuckle before pulling his hand from between your legs. Just seconds later, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching the bathroom door. Your eyes widened, and Jay quickly registered the situation. He fixed your collar for you to button up before he sprinted back to the mirror he was supposed to be polishing while you frantically searched for the abandoned cloth that you had been using the whole time.

“Why am I not surprised that you haven’t finished cleaning the bathroom?” Professor Snape stated after scanning the area. “It’s almost curfew, so wrap up and continue cleaning tomorrow. I’ll consider your detention done once this place is spotless.”

You stood up and observed as Professor Snape reached into the pocket in his robe and took out your wands. After he handed them over to you and Jay, he turned around without further question and left the bathroom. Jay looked at you, and you sighed in relief, almost collapsing to the floor because of your weak knees, if not for Jay holding you up by your elbows.

“That was too damn close,” you commented, standing uncomfortably since your panties were not fixed the right way.

“I’d say it was exciting,” Jay said, leaning into you and sniffing your neck.

“Jay, stop it,” you said, placing your palm firmly on his chest.

“That’s not what you wanted me to do when I had these stubby fingers inside you,” he teased, raising his hand and wriggling his fingers in front of your face.

You smacked his hand away, and he cackled, almost making the room shake from the echo.

“We still need to come back tomorrow and whose fault is that?” You asked, your back turned to him as you were tidying up the supplies.

“Fault?” Jay tilted his head. “No, favor. You’re missing the point. We get to come back here tomorrow.”

You stood up straight before turning to face Jay. He boldly took a couple of steps towards you, closing the distance and pulling you by your waist to press your body against his.

“Are you honestly telling me you’re not looking forward to it?”

With Jay’s arm firmly around your waist, the heat of his body against yours, his eyes boring into yours, and his silver hair messy from the way you were pulling on it earlier, there was no way you could lie to his face.

“Okay, I am looking forward to it,” you said after gaining enough courage. “Maybe instead of your stubby fingers, you can show me something else.”

Jay’s eyes twinkled at your daring tone, and you both chuckled before letting each other go, nagging at him as he collected your supplies while shamelessly ogling your body.

-END-

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thefuseoftemptation · 2 months

Text

wrong number

'you get a phone call and find out it's a wrong number but realize that you don't want to stop talking to the person at the other end. come to find out, he's from another decade.’

eddie munson x reader/ eddie munson x gn!reader

warning(s): cursing, au (not sure if it would be considered an au but imma put it), mention of modern time. I'm just putting tags I'm not even sure what to tag this under. lmk if there are more.

a/n: prompt # 4 from the strangerprompts by @allthingsjoeq @somnambulic-thing and @bettyfrommars. mkay, I've never done these types of things or participated before, but yknow, I took a shot and I liked it lol so thank you guys!

—

"What?"

Your voice was nothing short of clipped. The results of hearing your phone vibrate too many times for you to tolerate another call going unanswered.

It was abnormal in your opinion. To receive this many calls from the same number within a short time.

While sure, you occasionally complained about the lack of service that came through the device due to your inability to actually hold a relationship with anybody, much less a conversation, this isn't what you were looking for.

And if your shortness wasn't clear enough before, your annoyance must've been by the way you questioned a 'hello,' with a lifted brow. Not really saying it as one should when normally speaking to someone. That was, if anyone was even on the other side.

"Uh, hello." The voice imitated your previous tone, pulling out the last vowel as he sung it.

He.

If you had to guess, probably no more than your age.

"Huh, so you can speak? You know you could've begun with that? When someone picks up the phone after being called, who knows how many times," you state through your teeth, "the least you could do is have the decency to actually say something when they answer."

"Y’know I don’t like your tone, we’re going to try this again.” He mouthed.

“Wait, what? No-”

He hung up before you could refuse. Your phone pulled away from your ear as your mind tried to catch up with what just happened. And in the midst of that, your phone vibrated, again.

Your finger hovered over the button as you eyed the device, sliding it over when you’d been staring long enough.

“Hello?” You questioned, unsure. The shift in your tone is clearly obvious.

“You learn quickly.”

The same voice replied back, and his response had you narrowing your eyes.

Asshole.

“I had said it before. You were the one who needed the lesson in how to answer back.” You reiterate.

“Well, m’not about to respond to somebody who starts a conversation with 'what.' I mean, have you no manners?" The guy said. You could hear the lilt in his voice and how he seemed to be grinning on the other side, but you had to shake your head from thinking any further on it because there was still a question that you'd been meaning to ask.

"Who are you?"

"It's your conscience, clearly I haven't been able to get through to you which is why you're probably lacking, well, manners, but- worry not, for I am here."

You weren't sure if it was you still trying to comprehend everything that's happened in the last few minutes, or that this guy knew how to pull conversation so easily that you went along with it- but you hadn't even realized he never properly answered or that he just lowkey called you out on something you knew was evident to a blind person.

And you didn't even correct him, and rather than just hang up on someone you didn't know, you stayed on the phone and chose to enlighten him.

"Hm, so that's what that was? Who would've thought I'd have one of those," you sighed and shrugged, leaning back against the bed frame. You could hear him snort at the small insult you'd given yourself, hearing the feign in your voice was enough to let him know your humor was in tack.

It made you grin. The first of many, and the first in a while to tell the truth. You also couldn't stop yourself from thinking about how this was probably the longest conversation you've ever held with someone.

"I'm Eddie." His voice pulled you from your thoughts, trying to catch up in the moments you'd been away.

"Huh?"

You could hear chuckling before it was repeated. "My name. You asked me who I was."

Eddie.

It didn't sound familiar. You didn't know anyone named Eddie, but then again, you didn't really know anyone and you had questioned it when you guy's began talking. It was a number you'd never seen before either so there was that.

You hadn't realized you'd been quiet until Eddie spoke.

"Y'know, this is where you tell me your name." He remarked. "We really gotta work on your communication skills and social cues." Unbeknownst to you though, since you only just met the guy, he shouldn't be one to talk.

You let out something between a scoff and a breathy chuckle before telling him yours. And Eddie repeated what you did moments ago- saying your name under his breath, to himself- as if he was worried he'd forget it in those few seconds.

It was easy to get into conversation with him, primarily because he kept pulling you into things he’d knew would get a response out of you. Like saying shit that you’d end up reprimanding him for because it annoyed you.

He knew that, and you weren’t so sure you liked how transparent you seemed to be. You’d known him for only a short time and he already knew how to push your buttons. Which you told him but his response was anything but what you expected it to be. He simply shrugged it off, telling you that ‘you let it get to you.’

To which you rebutted fully knowing he was right, which annoyed you more. Though other than that, the conversation between you two had been decent.

There were a few times when you had been confused by what he’d been speaking about, but you just assumed it was the way he was. I mean, the guy spent- you’re guessing- most of his time today calling the wrong number, only to hang up on you just to call you again because he didn’t like your tone. And then went on to call you out on your shit, which by the way, you still haven’t let go of. Either way, you just thought that what he was talking about, was how he spoke. A sort of slang, you know? I mean, now, that’s all people use these days.

Who were you to question it? It’s not like you could ask anybody what it meant. You weren’t even sure what the words were yourself. I mean you did but nobody said that sort of thing anymore.

There were a few moments of silence that occurred, mainly between your guys' turns in speaking. It wasn’t until you heard him on his end that you asked what he’d been up to. He kept muttering something under breath.

Well, it was more him humming, every other minute or so though you’d hear a word, and the more he hummed- the more familiar it sounded.

“Is that…..Metallica?” You peeked, unsure if you were right. His side went quiet the second you said it, and you could assume it was because you were likely wrong in your guess.

“Y-You know Metallica?” Eddie enounced. He was standing upright, his previous stance of leaning on the frame gone, as he stood there with wide eyes and mouth agape at your sudden query.

So you were right.

“Uh, yes.” It came out sounding like a question rather than you stating the obvious. “My Uncle used to listen to them. Whenever he came over when I was younger, that was all I’d ever hear. He’d tell us he grew up on them, so it was only right that we did too.” You explained. Eddie’s mouth stretched up at hearing your words, too caught up in the recognition you had for one of his favorite bands, for him to even comprehend what you just said.

“I’ve never-” and then it hit him. His brows pinched together as he pulled the phone away from his ear. Did he hear you right? “Wait…grew up on them?” If it hadn’t been for the way you told the story, as if it actually happened, he would’ve thought you were pulling his leg. And you probably were so he just reacted logically. He chuckled. “Mkay, right right.”

It was your turn to pinch your face together, not understanding his sudden shift or why he was chuckling to begin with. “What? It’s true. The man grew up on them.” You raised, still clearly confused by his response.

“Mhm, sure.” You could hear the way he pulled the word, like he wasn’t convinced at all. Why was it so hard for him to get that what you were saying was true? “He’d have to be my age, kid.” He voiced.

W-What?

“Excuse me?” You uttered, sitting up from your bed frame. Not only were you confused but you were getting a little freaked out. He sounded young, your age, give or take. There was no way you had been conversing with a guy in his 50’s.

“You heard me, he’d have to be my age. There’s no way this guy grew up on them. The band isn’t even that old, it hasn’t been that long. I mean, I get we were joking before but man, you really got me there. I almost fell for it!” Eddie said. “How old are you?” He managed through his breathy laughs.

You could feel your heart pick up, the genuineness clear in his voice. He really thought you were joking, that everything you just said in the last few minutes was made up. But it hadn’t been and that’s what had you getting up from your bed. This was beginning to be too much for you.

“E-Eddie, what are you talking about? You’re freaking me out.”

And suddenly it wasn’t so amusing anymore. His face fell upon hearing your tone. The humor he once found in the situation, now gone, as he stared ahead. You sounded worried, alarmed even. It was quiet for a few seconds until he spoke, his tongue swiped his bottom lip before he did so.

“Uhm, look t-this isn’t-” his hand wiped down his face. “W-What are you talking about, man? One minute we're laughing and joking around and the next you’re telling me about your Uncle growing up on Metallica. There’s no way! Mkay?” He was getting agitated, visibly shaken up as he thought about you on the other side in the same state. “Like I said, the band isn’t even that old. It's only been a couple of years, it’s 1986 for christ sake!” And though he had been saying it all so fast, you still understood them. It’s why you felt yourself unable to move upon hearing his last few words.

1986.

The numbers repeated over and over in your head as you stood there.

“W-What?” You stuttered, voice shaky as you asked. It wasn’t possible. “It’s not!” You raise, your hands moving with a mind of their own as you swiped out of where you were and looked at the screen. In the corner of your phone, the current date stared back. The time you were currently in. As in, right now. You could hear Eddie speaking but because you didn’t have it against your ear, you couldn’t tell what exactly he’d been saying.

It’s not possible, it's not possible, it’s not.

He said it like it was true. He didn't just think it was 86', he was saying it like he knew it was. It was just impossible, the year he said, wasn’t the year you were in.

You lifted the phone back up to your ear, hands unable to keep still as you look ahead. Your eyes glassy as you spoke.

“Who are you?”

Eddie’s breath picked up at the way you questioned it, your voice at a whisper. He ran his hand through his hair again, already disheveled from how many times he’d done it prior to when you went quiet.

“I told you. My name is Eddie....and it's 1986."

Your eyes shut as he uttered his name, the lack of deceit evident.

—

a/n: I wasn't sure how to end it.

feedback and reblogs are appreciated.

#strangerprompts #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson headcanon #eddie munson hcs #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson one shot

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shiorihyuga · 1 month

Text

The Dumpster Behind the Club - Eren Jaeger

You and Eren are out to a club with friends and you got drunk and accidentally flashed someone with your boobs. Eren is now upset and is aggressively fucking you outside the club.

3k words

18+ Only Minors do not interact

“Take it, you dumb fucking whore,” Eren drawled out as he aggressively fucked the inside of your mouth.

Tears were streaming down your face. Your makeup was ruined. Your hair was a mess and your drenched cunt was dripping wet on the asphalt outside. Saliva dribbled from the side of your mouth as you struggled to catch your breath from Eren mercilessly using your mouth as his personal fleshlight. And it was making you so horny.

Though I suppose that this is what you wanted from the beginning. Eren and you had been a couple for a few months now and had decided to spend this Saturday night at a club downtown with your friends. I jumped at the invitation, greatly needing this outing as your new job has been keeping you fairly busy these last few weeks. It was also cutting into the quality time you spent with Eren.

His love language is physical touch.

So naturally, he wasn’t very enthused about my jam-packed work days.

I guess I should rewind to how I got into this predicament in the first place.

Recently, we haven’t been able to get much alone time together- and I can tell it's been frustrating him. Being able to have sex twice a day used to be the norm for us, now, we’re lucky if we have enough time/energy to do it three times a week. For someone who was as horny as Eren, that was a big shift to deal with. And he already had a brash, and aggressive personality, but this just made it worse.

“You’ve been denying me these for days, but had no problem flashing them to a group of random men?” Eren growled as he continued to fuck your skull, but this time he had one hand tightly squeezing your breast as he fondled your taut nipple between his rough fingers.

You tried to respond but could only gag on his dick, as snot began to bubble from your nose. Eren stuffed his cock so far down your throat that you couldn’t even breathe.

You didn’t have a high liquor tolerance, and you’re a horn dog when you drink, so it only took a few drinks for you to feel as frisky as a cat in heat. The red mini dress you wore was only secured by a thin piece of fabric that wrapped around your neck to tie in a halter. It felt like it was a little loose so you went to the bathroom to fix it, with Eren tagging along with you.

There was a group of guys standing near the bathroom and unfortunately, you would have to walk past them. They all ogled me as I walked by, and one of them was about to open their mouth to say something, but I saw him look above me before closing his mouth and giving a brief nod.

I spun my head around to see Eren giving a death stare to the entire group, looking like he was ready to take someone’s head off if they dared to say or do anything to me.

Eren was an intimidating man. Sure he was beautiful, but his aura was powerful and with his domineering personality, it wasn’t hard for him to command rooms and receive respect everywhere we go together.

But I was so caught up in the thoughts that I didn’t feel when the straps of my dress suddenly fell and my tits bounced as they were free from their thin restraint. I quickly went to cover my breasts but it was too late. The guys had already seen it, based on the lewd looks on their faces. They got more than enough for their imaginations. I felt so embarrassed.

“Oh my gosh, I-” I started to say, but a hand suddenly shot out and grabbed my upper arm dragging me away with an unprecedented level of force.

I looked up to see Eren with his eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched as he sunk his fingers deep into my arm and dragged me further out of the club. I caught a glint of his green eyes and he looked mad as hell.

“Eren stop, you’re hurting me,” I said trying to wiggle out of his grip but it was no use.

“Shut the fuck up!” He barked over the loud music as he shuffled me across the dance floor, towards the back where I saw a large black door with an emergency exit sign lit up above it.

He opened the door which led to outside, behind the club where it was pretty dark and secluded. Two large dumpsters were back here and despite the graffiti art, they were pretty well kept and looked relatively clean.

“What the hell is your problem?” I asked trying to pull my arm from his grasp. “Are you angry because my dress fell? God Eren, it was an accident! You don’t really think that I purposely-”

“Yes I do,” He firmly stated as green eyes darkened. He began slowly stalking towards me, effectively trapping me between the wall and him. He stared down at me as if I was his last meal. And I saw that fire in his eyes…I know that look all too well.

He suddenly leaned down to place his lips right next to my ear.

“I do think that you would purposely pull your dress down in front of a group of men just to rile me up because I know you’re that much of a fucking whore.” He said huskily in my ear.

My pussy immediately began clenching as I heard him say that. A shiver ran from my nape all the way down my spine to my pussy and I swear it felt like I was zapped with electricity. I suddenly felt bashful, and I knew that my face was as red as a tomato so I didn’t even dare to look him in the eyes. But Eren wasn’t going to allow me that respite.

“Get on your knees.” He said as he leaned away from me to unbutton his jeans.

“Ere-”

“Get on your fucking knees, now!” He said menacingly as he gripped a firm hand around my neck.

The sound of his voice was enough to make anyone unable to resist his commands. Besides, you knew better than anyone that Eren doesn’t take disobedience lightly. His domineering gaze never faltered as he watched you slowly kneel on the concrete ground. The feeling of tiny rocks piercing your skin was painful but not as painful as the ache between your legs was. If Eren didn’t give you some sort of relief soon, you felt that you were about to explode.

He slowly reached his hand up to gently cup your chin in his hand and rubbed his thumb over your plump lips. How can one person be so damn attractive?

“Keep it open,” Eren directed as he squeezed my cheeks together until I felt my mouth was forced open.

He moved his hand from my face to pull down his briefs and let his cock spring up. I let out a heavy sigh through my parted lips as I greedily stared at his cock. My core became wetter every second as I felt the alcohol soar through my bloodstream - adding even more pleasure to my already euphoric state.

Eren was a big man, so naturally, his dick would have to correlate to his size. And boy did it not disappoint!

I can’t tell you exactly what its size is. But I do know it has to be at least 7 inches. And with very impressive girth as well! His dick has a little upward curve to it that never failed to hit that sweet spot inside of me. Eren was the only man to ever make me cum through just vaginal stimulation. And he was cocky as hell about it too. Always bringing up how no one else will ever be able to fuck me as good as he can. To be honest, he’s probably right.

He gripped the back of my hair to pull me closer to him. He grabbed the base of his cock and slid in past my parted lips, immediately hitting the back of my throat and making me gag and want to pull back, but Eren was having none of that as he forced my head to stay still as I took his entire length in my mouth.

He held it there for about ten seconds before he finally pulled out and I gasped for air; coughing as my breath finally became free. Eren sexily groaned as he pulled out. His eyes closed as he panted. He caught his breath before opening his eyes to stare into mine again. That freedom didn’t last long though. Eren grabbed my head again, and with both hands this time, he began aggressively fucking my skull with an insane level of speed.

“Take it, you dumb fucking whore!” He menacingly growled as he looked down at me. Well, that was a short recap of how I got myself here in the first place.

Him fondling my breasts was enough to make me loudly moan around his cock, the vibrations of it giving him visible chills. I took a quick peak up at him and oh, how I wished I could frame the wicked smile that was plastered across his face. He was enjoying himself so much.

“You love this don’t you?” He asked condescendingly. “Nowhere you’d rather be than to be guzzling down my cock on the side of a dumpster, right baby? Look at you, your pussy juices are dripping on the ground how desperately you want me.”

I gave a muffled affirmation as I held onto his thighs tightly to steady myself as he continued his brutal assault on my throat. The filthy words he was saying to me also edged me on even more. I loved when he got aggressive like this.

Eren and I have been together long enough for him to know me like the back of his hand. He knew that I loved being treated like a princess, just as much as I loved being degraded by him like a cheap whore.

His pace picked up as my eyes became glassy and his breathing became erratic. The sounds that were coming from my lips were absolutely sinful. The gushing and that garbling of my spit, mixed with his precum was spread all over my face and the top of my breasts. I knew wouldn’t be able to last much longer like this. I was starting to get lightheaded due to the lack of oxygen.

Sensing this, Eren quickly pulled my head off his cock and spun me around so that I was pressed against the brick wall. I felt his dick piercing into my back as he used his large hands to continue massaging my breasts while he moaned pure filth into my ears.

“You’re Daddy's nasty fucking girl, aren't you?” He said nibbling on my ear. “I knew sucking me off in the back of a dumpster would make you so fucking wet.”

“Yes Daddy,” I moaned, throwing my head back as he reached down to give my ass a hard squeeze before reaching his fingers to my core. He spread my pussy lips before rubbing a finger up and down my clit.

I felt my knees buckle from the slight touch, and I heard Eren chuckle as he brought his finger up to see the amount of wetness on it. He barely touched me and my slickness dripped from his finger onto the floor. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this horny in my life.

“Look at how much you’re feigning for me baby,” He said rubbing his thumb over his index finger with my cum in it. “I barely even touched you yet.”

“Daddy please,” You begged as he began rubbing your folds again.

“Please what?” He replied darkly.

“Fuck me.”

That was all he needed to hear, and he wasted no time scrunching up my dress to my waist and ripping my panties off of me. I was in such a turned-on state that I didn’t even care. I felt him shuffle himself a bit more behind me for a few seconds before I felt the tip of his cock prodding at my entrance and I let out a cry of pleasure as I turned to look at him over my shoulder.

“Oh fuck,” He hissed as he slowly pushed into my slick. Feeling every ridge and pulsation that my pussy had to offer. “You’re so fucking tight baby, you’re swallowing me up.”

I couldn’t even say anything coherent in response to him. My brain had been turned into mush as I languished in the feeling of Eren being inside me. His dick stretched me so painfully, yet so deliciously good. I felt him slowly pull out, leaving just his head in before he rammed back into me, jolting me forward and pressing my face against the wall.

He roughly adjusted my body so that my ass was sticking out towards him, with my hands pressing against the wall. He laughed as he gave my ass a hard smack before pumping into me again.

“Oh God, Eren!” I cried out as he began pumping into me like a jackrabbit. The lewd slapping sounds from his hips meeting my ass with every thrust was transporting me to cloud nine.

He suddenly took one hand to push my face firm against the wall. The other had a harsh grip on my waist as he dominated my pussy; occasionally he’d let go of my waist to issue hard slaps on my ass cheeks that I'm positive would leave marks.

“If you could only see how your pussy is gripping my dick right now, you’d cum in a second,” Eren grunted in your ear, never once letting his thrust’s speed falter. “I should’ve fucked you like this in front of those guys back there. Let them see how much you love to take my dick, and let them see how wet you get for me.”

“Only for you Daddy,” I mewled out as I felt myself creep closer to my release.

“That’s right baby, only for me,” Eren grunted as his thrusts started to become slower but much more forceful. He stopped pressing my head into the wall and moved his fingers down to my clit to play with it.

I tried to move my hand to his hips to make him go a little gentler, but he roughly pushed my hand away before quickly grabbing my arm and pinning it behind my back.

“You know I don't know mercy, baby girl,” Eren growled out menacingly as his thrusts got even more violent. “You’re going to take everything I have to give.”

Your vision started to go white as your eyes were squeezed shut. Your toes curled before letting out a euphoric scream. Eren was fucking you like he hated you. Every thrust had your whole body jerking forward, yet you ran back to his dick every time because you knew he was the only one who could fuck you the way you loved. That combined with what his fingers were doing to you…you knew you weren’t going to last for much longer.

“Eren, I-I’m gonna cum!” You cried out as your pussy began to tighten.

“Fuck, I feel it, baby, “ Eren said through gritted teeth as his thrusts began to become sporadic. “Keep squeezing my dick like that, oh fuck.”

Both of you were now panting excessively. Eren’s face was flushed red as his eyes were locked on watching his dick move in and out of your tight hole. A frothy white substance began to form due to you guys’ lewd activities, but all of this just turned Eren on even more.

He knew you were about to cum any second now so he began massaging your clit even more before you felt the thread finally snap and you came undone on his cock. Your pussy relaxing and contracting around his dick as you loudly rode out your orgasm. Based on the sounds Eren was making, he was right behind you.

“FUCKKK!” He roared and his hip stuttered in you before he released everything he had in you.

You felt his cock shooting him warm seed in your womb - filling you to the brim with it. Eren was panting heavily as you felt his cock go limp inside you. He had his arms wrapped around your waist, and head buried in the crock of your neck as he peppered kisses up and down there. He slowly pulled his dick from you and you shivered at the loss of contact.

Immediately, his and your cum began to leak out of you and Eren quickly dipped two fingers into your pussy before bringing it up to your lips and making you suck in them. You moaned as you tasted the concoction that both of your juices made.

“Delicious, isn’t it” Eren cockily asked while watching your tongue swirl around his fingers.

“Hmmm, the best, as usual,” You said in a sultry tone before giving him a wink. You stood on your tiptoes as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

He grabbed the back of your nape and pulled you in for a deep, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately flew into your mouth as he tasted the flavor of his cum mixed with yours. You moaned into his mouth as you felt him reach his hand down to grab your ass and give it a hard squeeze.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” He breathed into your mouth. “You’re making me want to bend you over again.”

Despite just having an orgasm, your pussy immediately began to pur at those words. Eren knew how to rile you up.

“You’re making me want to let you,” You flirtatiously replied as you grabbed his now-hardening dick in your hand.

“Let me?” He asked incredulously as he chucked before leaning down to stare at me with those intimidating emerald eyes of his. “Your body belongs to me baby girl, and I’ll fuck you whenever I want, wherever I want, however I want.”

Shit.

That was all it took to have my pussy aching for him again as I reached a hand up to wrap around his neck and pull him down for another kiss. Eren was right, deep down I knew I was such a slut for him...

And I wouldn’t have it any other way.

~ aot, attack on titan, shingekinokyojin, snk, eren, eren jeager, eren jeager smut, aot smut, snksmut, erensmut, aggressive eren, posessive eren

#aot #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren smut #aot x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #aot smut #eren jeager #eren jeager smut

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cyanide-latte · 4 months

Text

The People I'd Like To Get To Know Better Tag Game

Tagged by the lovely @lucifers-horror-harem (thank you Lottie, this was a welcome distraction~)

Last Song/Album: "Alive" from the Jekyll & Hyde musical soundtrack

Favorite color: blue or black. Technically both. I love blues, especially deeper blues but black has also always been my color. I've gravitated towards it since I was young. (I was born to be goth rofl.)

Sweet, spicy or savory: this one is weird. In the last five years, especially this past year, my tolerance for anything sweet has drastically diminished. I still love savory stuff but I have to be in the mood. And my spice tolerance has increased in a weird balancing act to the growing intolerance for sweets? So...spicy, I guess?

Last TV show: starting a Gravity Falls rewatch baybeeeee

Last film: Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End

Last thing I looked up online: I'm honestly not sure

Relationship status: Married

Current obsession: Twisted Wonderland (secondary obsession is still horror media, and Disney properties are sort of a side focus/satellite thing as a result of the TWST obsession; I cannot stress enough this silly little mobile game became both a SpIn and a hyperfixation in record time and it's been going strong since late October 2023 and shows no signs of stopping. Also, though it technically falls under the umbrella of horror media, thanks The Magnus Protocol for reigniting the magpod hyperfixation)

No pressure tags: @changeofheart69 @tixdixl @inmateofthemind @oathofoaks (yes I know that I know you guys already and you're my besties but I wanted to make sure you knew I was thinking about you and wanted to include you) @silverscribe87 @trensu @horrorobsessor @blithesharem @thehollowwriter @snailsrneat @theleechyskrunkly @rainesol and anyone who wants to grab this tag and run with it is free to!

#get to know me tag #Cyanide speaks

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cocklessboy · 4 months

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So here's the thing about having a post break containment on tumblr: if you make a mistake in the original post, there's absolutely fucking nothing you can do about it.

The people reblogging once you realize your mistake aren't reblogging it from your blog. They're reblogging it from someone you never even knew existed. If you edit the original, it does not affect the copies already being passed around.

You can make an addition to the post with a correction! But here's the thing. Posts tend to break containment if they are tagged and people see it in the tags they follow. But reblogs don't appear in tags. Only original posts do. So your addition will only be reblogged by people who follow you, and it's pretty rare for a post with a correction added in a reblog to break containment in the same way as the original.

So you wind up getting a lot of reblogs with angry comments about how you're wrong (and that's if they're being polite - the less polite ones will attack you rather viciously, which is not something I would wish on anyone). And even if you didn't make a mistake, if there's something you didn't make clear enough for Tumblr Reading Comprehension™️, you'll wind up inundated with angry comments from people who missed the point, and it's too late to go back and adjust your wording to make it clearer.

(That's why I'm making a new post for this instead of responding to the comments I got on the post in question, by the way. I'm hoping some of the same people who spread around the original might spot this one in the tags and share it around as well.)

So what is this about? I recently made a post about how a friend was worried that I was addicted to my ADHD meds purely because I said I look forward to taking them and they bring me joy.

The purpose of that post was:

Something bringing you joy doesn't necessarily make it addictive. (For fuck's sake stop being afraid of pleasure.)

Even if something is addictive, that's not inherently harmful.

Don't be afraid to take your meds just because they might be addictive. If they help you more than they harm you, take them.

I also made a comment about how my ADHD meds aren't addictive anyway. This is the point people have been pouncing on me about. So allow me to explain where that assertion came from.

My psychiatrist, an ADHD specialist who manages my meds: I know you're nervous about addiction and tolerance to meds, but don't worry. If you have ADHD, methylphenidate is not physically addictive.

My GP, who I got a second opinion from out of nervousness: Yup, your psychiatrist is right. You don't need to be afraid to take these. Take them as directed and you will not form a physical dependence on them. If you notice them getting less effective with time, though, you can always just take a break from them to remove any tolerance.

Me, after a year and a half of taking these meds: Yup, no addiction here. I guess my doctors were right.

So here we are. Two doctors and my own personal experience have assured me that ADHD meds are not something to be afraid of. Yet I keep seeing people afraid to take their meds because they're afraid of dependence. So why don't I do a nice thing in this post of mine and reassure my fellow gremlin-brained tumblrs that their meds are perfectly safe to take!

And to be fair, I've gotten quite a few reblogs with tags and additions and comments saying thank you, I was afraid to take my meds, even though they help me, but now I'm reassured that I shouldn't be scared.

And I think that's a positive outcome.

On the other hand, I'm getting some very angry comments from some people who seem to think I'm attempting to spread a vicious, intentional lie claiming that people with ADHD are immune to stimulant addiction and that I'm going to do all kinds of harm, presumably on purpose, because there's nothing I enjoy more than ruining other people's lives! 🙌

I would assume that anyone who thought about this for more than three seconds would realize that's not the case, but this is tumblr.

I've gotten angry rants ranging from "this author you've never heard of wrote a book where he defined addiction as inherently harmful, and therefore you're harming people by saying being addicted to something is not inherently bad!" to "STOP SPREADING MISINFORMATION!!!" to "OP is making statements that are incompatible with reality!" and folks? I'm real fucking tired of it.

Is it possible that my doctors are wrong? Of course! Doctors get things wrong all the time, especially when it comes to stuff like ADHD! But yelling at me from across the internet and accusing me of lying is not helpful.

There is nothing I can do about the original post. I can reblog it with an addition clarifying that yes, everyone is capable of becoming psychologically dependent on basically anything in a way that would be considered addiction, and yes, that includes ADHD people and their meds.

To be clear, this does NOT contradict the intent of my original post: that ADHD meds are good, you should take them, medication making you feel good is nothing to fear, pleasure is not the same as addiction, addiction is not inherently dangerous, and according to my doctors, who are fallible human beings but my most trusted source of information as of the writing of that post, ADHD meds are not physically addictive - as in, your BODY will not become dependent on them to function. This is the definition of "addiction" I had in mind when I wrote that post - and I think in a lot of cases the thing upsetting people is that we don't even actually disagree on what we're trying to say, but there was a miscommunication in terms of what I actually meant.

If I could go back and edit that original post and have it change everywhere it's been reblogged, I absolutely would. I would clarify where my information was coming from and what definition of "addiction" I intended, and reiterate that even if something can cause physical dependence, that doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't take it.

But I can't. That post is out there now and there's not a damn thing I can do about it.

Keep this in mind as you go forward in your tumblr journey, friends. If you come across a semi-popular post with a mistake in it, you can bet every bit of your ass that OP has heard about it many, many times already, probably in very impolite terms, and there is nothing they can do about the original post. Unless they're a massively popular blog, a reblog with an addition or correction will not be seen by the people spreading around the original.

And for fuck's sake, stop assuming ill intent on the part of people who say something incorrect online. There are people out there who intentionally spread misinformation, but those people are rare, and usually trying to get you to not vote democrat in US elections, not trying to encourage you to take your fucking meds. If you see a mistake, it's probably an honest one, and if you really want to correct it, be a decent fucking human being, be polite and kind, and try assuming good intentions on the part of the person who said it.

The person telling you to take your meds is not your fucking enemy.

Oh, and do me a favor and reblog this, please. I actually have very few followers so no one will see it if it doesn't get reblogged. Thank you.

#adhd #actually adhd #medication #ritalin #concerta #methylphenidate #addiction #misinformation #tumblr reading comprehension #stop being dicks to strangers online

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lavenderrmidnightss · 5 months

Text

loved you in secret - coriolanus snow

Pairing: peacekeeper!coriolanus x fem!reader

Summary:

I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us

Peacekeepers aren’t supposed to fall for anybody who lives in the districts, but Corio can’t stay away from you. Secrets never harmed anyone, right?

Tags: fluff, heated make out, neck kisses, hand on neck, forbidden love, possessive/cocky coriolanus, sneaking around, cursing, plans to run away, mention of boner lol, almost caught

Word Count: 1.6k

The soft grass acted as a blanket beneath you as you settled in, watching the sunset. To potential passersby, you would appear to be just a girl admiring the sky transition from its daily cerulean hue into its ombre mixture of pinks, purples, and oranges, welcoming the evening. While this was true, you were waiting. Eagerly, impatiently. Over the past several months, you’ve been living a secret. You’ve been seeing one of the peacekeepers, Coriolanus.

As a peacekeeper, Coriolanus has very strict guidelines he is required to follow. Most he abides to, but there is simply one he cannot tolerate. Peacekeepers are not supposed to pursue anybody from the district romantically. Hell, peacekeepers were looked at strangely if they became too friendly with them. He didn’t care. He simply wanted you. From the moment he saw you, he knew he had to make you his. It started with speaking now and then at gatherings, always letting his eyes linger on you to make sure you were safe. Eventually it turned into him pulling you into a quiet alley stealing kisses and planning secret meetings. Whether it would be in abandoned buildings, in the woods at sunrise, hiding out by the lake in the middle of the day; you two never failed to make time for each other. It’s a daily commitment and priority for you both. That being said, you began to wonder where he was now? Corio was supposed to be here by now. Surely he didn’t forget. Maybe he got caught up in work. Your wonderings were cut off by the feeling of two muscular arms engulfing you from behind, pulling you down.

“There’s my girl,” Corio’s whisper buried into your ear. You shivered as his hot breath radiated against your delicate skin.

“Here I am,” you giggled back in response. You felt so safe in his arms. Turning your head, your eyes met his sapphires. His buzz cut was starting to grow out slightly. Soon enough you knew he would be demanded to shave it again, but you loved the sight of his blond curls slowly beginning to reveal themselves. “Was startin’ to wonder if you were coming or not,” you confessed. The sound of doves filled the air, a soft spring breeze rushing by you two. Coriolanus’ eyebrows furrowed at your comment, shaking his head. His thumb and index finger grabbed your chin, tilting it up to make sure your eyes were locked on his.

“Listen, if I say I’m gonna be there, I’ll be there. I don’t care what it takes. I’d never leave you hanging, never leave you guessing. Got it?” He wasn’t trying to come across as harsh, but he needed the sincerity to be crystal clear in his tone. “Never would mislead you. You know that, pretty girl?” The way his thick accent filled your senses made your heart flutter. You nodded, feeling your cheeks brighten a new shade of pink as his hands lifted to tuck loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “Wouldn’t miss this, wouldn’t miss a second with you, for the world,” he added. Coriolanus leaned in, his soft lips grazing over yours. You melted beneath his touch, feeling your eyes flutter shut just by the feather touch of his lips. There was a sudden shift in your breathing, becoming more hollow. Of course Corio picked up on it, thriving off of the power he held over you. Coriolanus cupped your delicate face in his colossal hands as he closed the gap between your lips. Fully pressing his lips against yours, your lungs clenched and chest warmed. His kiss created a sensation you never knew you needed before it happened the very first time. Now, it’s all you dream about.

Coriolanus was never the type to grow attached to people. He’s cast his wall so high that it’s damn near impossible to climb it. However, with you, Corio has completely obliterated that wall. There’s something about you; your kindness, your sincerity, your wit, your inner beauty matching your outer beauty, the list has no end. Something about you lures him in. You are his safe place, his person he can be himself. Not a peacekeeper. Not an aspiring high academic. He can just be. He can rest in your presence. There’s no judgment between you two. No secrets - at least, among one another.

His lips captured yours, the sound of lingering smacks filling the air. Coriolanus repositioned himself so he was now in front of you, gently yet assertively laying you down. The kiss unbroken, you were melting beneath him. You’d never wanted a man more than you wanted him. You hummed into the kiss, gaining his attention. Corio pulled back, looking into your eyes.

“Corio, what if we get caught?” you whispered. It was a question you had asked a million times internally, but never outwardly expressed. Coriolanus chuckled lowly under his breath, his head shaking.

“Baby girl, I don’t give a fuck if we get caught. You’re all I want.” His lips worked down your neck. Your eyes involuntarily fluttered shut as his tongue left a wet stripe down your fragile skin. “Isn’t that what you want too? Hm?” Corio’s voice was muffled as he nipped down on your neck, causing you to gasp softly. He soothed over the pain quickly by sucking on your skin. Your head tilted back, granting him free access to your neck.

“Mhm, more than anything, Corio,” you breathed out shakily.

Coriolanus moved his lips up your neck, just grazing the shell of your earlobe. “Damn right.” His tone was rich with passion. His lips found yours again, desperate. This time, the kiss felt more fiery; more intense . Your lips moved in sync so effortlessly, so naturally together. It was as if you two were designed for one another. Your lips were like rose petals; silky, delicate, beautiful. To Coriolanus, you were the most addicting taste. Your breathing was hitched in your throat, taken aback by how your lips managed to collide with his so tenderly yet with such hunger. He was devouring you. Devouring how you so submissively followed his lead. Devouring your taste, the way you feel. His teeth sunk into your bottom lip, tugging back enough just to release a shaky gasp from your lips. In response, your hands resorted to the back of his head. Your fingers tangled up in his hair, luring a groan of satisfaction from him. God, you’d never heard a more beautiful sound. With both of your mouths now open from sighing, gasping, the kiss grew sloppy. Corio’s hands explored your body, feeling each delicate curve of your body with desire. One hand rested on your neck not to harm you, but to fully have you not only understand but feel his dominance. His fingertips felt the throbbing of your pulse. It was intensifying, growing faster, as the kiss progressed - much like his. His other hand fell to your hips. His fingers dug into your skin, surely leaving a faint mark to remind you later of his touch. Each connection of your lips was broken slightly. You two were starving, craving each other; impatient for the next moment your lips would find each other again. Before you knew it, Corio’s tongue was exploring your mouth. Whimpering into his kiss, one of your hands moved to rest on top of his forearm where his hand was pressing against your neck. His tongue was warm, immediately massaging itself against yours. The warm, wet sensation of it built a fire deep inside of you, leaving you wanting more of him.

“Fuck, Corio,” you breathed into the kiss, your hands beginning to wander down his body, begging to explore him fully. However, the dream-like moment was ripped away from you both when a voice erupted from the hill, echoing.

“Coriolanus!” You recognized the voice. It was Sejanus, Corio’s best friend. Not even he could know the truth. You could never trust anybody enough, not even your closest friends. Corio growled as he lifted his head, looking down at you.

“We’re not done. You understand?” He asked, his fingertips lightly squeezing your neck before pulling back, rising up to his feet. “Tonight. Midnight. Meet me here. We’re running away.”

Your eyes widened at this news. It wasn’t a decision you two had ever even discussed before, but it was clear his mind was set. “Wait, what?” You watched Corio straighten out his uniform. You fought a smirk as your eyes naturally fell to find a bulge in his pants. “Corio, I-”

“Listen, I can’t keep up this cat and mouse game. You’re my girl and I’m tired of hiding away. I want you all the time, whenever I want. You are my life, not this peacekeeper bullshit. I don’t care what it takes, where we have to go, what we have to do. We are running away and we’re going to make a life for ourselves. A life we want, a life we desire.” He looked down at you, raising an eyebrow. “Unless, that’s not what you want?” He knew damn well it was what you wanted, and even if it wasn’t you would’ve caved. He has you wrapped around his finger.

You frantically nodded. “I do, I do,” you quickly said. “Okay. I’ll meet you. Here. Midnight.” He smirked, nodding his head.

“Good girl,” he whispered, leaving a lingering kiss on your forehead. The sound of trotting footsteps grew louder. Sejanus was only seconds away. He took a moment to steal a quick kiss from your lips, looking into your eyes. “I love you, darlin,” he whispered before running off. You sunk into the meadow’s grass, letting it envelope you, letting the reality of it all sink in. The reality of the heated kiss. The reality of the fact that you were lucky enough to be loved by Coriolanus Snow. The reality of the fact that at midngiht, your life would indefinitely change. While it admittedly frightened you in part of the sense, you were eager to find out just what it means to love Corio openly, not in secret.

____________

PART 2?

#coryo #tbosbas #president snow #tom blyth #tom blyth x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus fluff #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fic #peacekeeper!coriolanus snow

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amorchai · 10 days

Note

📁 ₊˚⊹ “i guess you’re my girlfriend now.” with baby ron <33

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐋𝐄.

pairing(s): ron weasley x female!reader

words: 526

warnings/tags: snape, exam period, ron being ron, one use of her pronoun!

a/n: you always have the best requests bub.

for as long as you can remember, ron was a tease. at the beginning of hogwarts he was impatient and short with you – because you were always around and done well in classes.

however, as you both grew older he became more soft natured. constantly teasing, however, everyone around could tell it was his way of flirting with you. while you usually shyly ducked your head or retorted to his statements.

the o.w.l’s had approached and ron was next to you during a test, clearly in another world as his pencil tapping against the wood drove you insane. professor snape had already pushed ron’s head five too many times to focus but it was clear he wasn’t as interested in the potions exam as he should be.

“ron, i’d appreciate if you didn’t cheat off me,” i whisper behind my hand after snape walks past, feeling ron’s gaze on me. he chuckles, peering at the professor before ducking his head down to whisper near you, enough for his breath to hit your cheek, “oh, i wasn’t looking at your test.”

i look at him with wide eyes before swiftly turning to my test, refusing to answer while he only chuckles again, seamus throwing a crumpled sheet of paper at him.

‘have you asked her out yet?’ dean mouthed, nodding to your frame which scribbles onto the parchment, unaware of the conversation. ron furrows his eyebrows and waves a hand for them to stop. harry earning a push from professor snape when he laughs.

‘look at you, your cheeks are all red, ronnie,’ seamus whispers so quietly in a teasing tone, enough for me to glance up and ron glares at him. “you’re cheeks really are red,” i reply, his expression turning motionless when he realises you’re looking at him.

both boys wiggle their eyebrows and wink at harry from ron’s other side as they look back down to their tests, and when professor snape turns – your head snaps back to the desk.

but ron leans back down, “no- um, i’m just warm is all. this jumper is a bit much…” he trails off trying to explain himself and i shush him in an attempt, hearing snape’s footsteps.

“mr weasley… when you’re done talking to your girlfriend maybe you would consider actually trying to take the test. if you’re competent enough to not only write your name!” snape snaps from behind ron and he quivers with more blush when people around the hall snicker.

harry has to hang his head down so snape doesn’t see how amused he is. when his footsteps recede ron whispers against you, “i guess you’re my girlfriend now,” he teases through the embarrassment and you shut your eyes and shiver in response.

“i’ve had quite enough, mr weasley. come with me.” ron doesn’t even mind, everyone is openly amused of the trouble he is about to receive, gryffindor’s not even minding the inevitable fact house cup points were surely going to be deducted. seamus whistles and neville nudges you when ron just leans over and places a quick kiss on your heated cheeks when he stands and follows snape out the hall.

amorchai masterlist . taglist form

#— ꒰꒰ ➵ my works ｡˚ ꒱꒱#harry potter┊ ➶ ˚⊹ ron weasley ⊹#ron weasley #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley x y/n #ron weasley imagine #the golden trio #ron weasley fluff #ron weasley fanfiction #ron weasley x you

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starlightsalvatore · 1 year

Text

transition / damon salvatore x reader

hello !!!! this is my first time ever writing for the vampire diaries! there will be a part two that I’m currently working on for this, so please let me know if you’d like to be tagged and definitely let me know what you think!

transition / damon salvatore x reader

summary: after another day in Mystic Falls you find yourself unable to push away the one thought that’s been plaguing you for months... and you turn to Damon for help

word count: 2.8k

warnings: typical vampire diaries violence (blood, etc), fluffy, no use of y/n

Images flooded your mind as you pulled the blanket tighter around yourself to shield from the cool air of your bedroom but it was no use… even if you warmed up it wouldn’t be enough to let you sleep. You should have been used to it all by now, the blood and the gore of your life, and to a certain extent you were. In the heat of the moment you didn’t let it affect you, you carried on with what you were doing, which was usually something to the tune of saving Elena’s life, and you’d do it as many times as you needed… you’d known the girl since diapers, but that didn’t make it any easier when you found yourself alone in the solitude and darkness of your room.

You huffed, sitting upright and accepting your fate, you simply wouldn’t be sleeping tonight. Amidst your brain sorting through and processing the events of the day there was one thought on the forefront, one that had been there for months… Since you first met Klaus, before you helped thwart his plans and turned the affections he once showed you (and affections you exploited when it suited the needs of your friends) to hatred, there was one thought that plagued you. You wanted to be a vampire. Not just because it would make your life easier, not just because you no longer had any family left besides your ragtag group of supernatural friends, a fact that became all the more clear as you walked through your empty and silent house, but because you genuinely thought it would make you feel more whole.

Ever since you found out there could be more to life than the mundane humanity you were cursed with you found yourself longing for something you didn’t know how to ask for. You couldn’t discuss it with anybody. Bonnie and Elena would be disgusted, Caroline would tell you how much she wished she’d been given a choice, and Stefan would tell you about the horrors of his ripper days, Damon though… Damon might understand. To the shock and dismay of your friends you became closer to him than anybody. You didn’t hold the same mere tolerance for the man as everyone else, you thought he was charming, and you often understood the motives behind the decisions he made. You were his only ally when he came back to town and somewhere along the way you became genuine friends, but something held you back from talking with him about this. Whether it was fear of rejection, or fear that he wouldn’t understand you didn’t know, but before you knew it you were climbing into your car in nothing but an oversized tee shirt and following the ever-familiar roads to the boarding house.

You let yourself in as you often did and took note of the quiet house, none of the lights were on as you made your way up the stairs and padded down the hallway, lightly knocking on Damon’s door and when you heard nothing you just pushed your way in and softly settled on the bed beside him. He awoke, eyes searching through the darkness for the intruder before they landed on you and he let out a groan.

“Do you ever knock?” he asked and you chuckled.

“I did, guess that vampire hearing isn’t as good as you think.”

“Well, I should have seen this coming… knew you’d give into my charms sooner or later,” he said, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into him and you just swatted his chest.

“In your dreams, Salvatore,” you teased, but little did he know it was in your dreams too… but that was another secret you’d keep closely guarded.

“Every night, darling. What are you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you mumbled and you felt him nod above you as you settled further into him, soaking up the warmth and comfort he provided. You wondered what the others would think if they got to see this side of him… the one that was kind and affectionate, they might cut him some more slack.

“Staking a vampire as a tiny human tends to do that to a person,” he said with a chuckle.

“It wasn’t that,” you sighed. Sure, on the surface it was, but beneath it all there was a much larger thought nagging at you. One that would take away some of your fear, make you feel stronger… maybe make you feel more like yourself, something you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced.

“No?” he prompted and you sat up, looking down at him with confliction written all over your face and he sensed it immediately, following suit and flicking the light on his bedside table on. “What’s going through that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, eyes flitting over your face. You were always strong and composed, the most emotion he typically saw you exude was annoyance, and maybe anger, but even then you were calm and controlled… for a human he sometimes found it a little scary.

“I have something to ask you… I’ve wanted to for a while but I just, I didn’t know how and you might think I’ve gone insane,” you started and he listened to the uptick of your heart rate.

“Well, consider me intrigued.”

You took a deep breath, “would you ever… turn me?” you asked and his eyes widened.

“Turn you? Into a vampire?” he clarified and you nodded. Would he ever turn you? In a heartbeat. He’d thought about it a dozen times or more, on the surface if he was ever asked he’d make some quip about how it would make life easier. One less human to worry about is a win-win for everybody, and it never hurts to have more vampire power on the frontlines but beneath it all he didn’t want to lose you, ever. The fact that you were a fragile human scared him, it made him distracted whenever chaos ensued, which was always, because you often took charge and put yourself in situations you shouldn’t be in and you found yourself on the brink of death far too many times for him to be comfortable with. He loved you, even if he wouldn’t quite admit it to himself yet. The thought of losing you, whether it be sixty years from now of natural causes or next week, was the thing that kept him up at night. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Well, of all the vampires on the roster I figured you were the least likely to lecture me,” you joked but he just shot you a look and you knew that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “I feel useless, and I don’t feel like myself. I want to help more, I don’t just want to be some meek human everyone has to worry about all the time. I don’t see our lives calming down anytime soon and I want to be able to contribute more.”

“Is that the only reason?”

You sighed again, “when I met you and Stefan I didn’t realize there could be more to life. I thought I would go to college, meet some boring guy, get a boring job, have kids I never really wanted in the first place and go on to die mildly content of some old person’s disease,” you said and he chuckled at the picture you painted of humanity. “I never wanted that but I didn’t see another option… and then you two came to town, and my parents died, and every week I find myself in the midst of supernatural chaos. In the moments I’m doing something to help or when I make you whizz me around the forest like you’re some amusement park ride are the moments I do start to feel like myself.”

“So this is something you’ve been thinking about for a while?” he asked and you nodded. “Why didn’t you bring this up sooner?”

“Thought you’d think I’m crazy, maybe rip my necklace off and compel me to forget I ever asked in the first place,” you answered and he gave you a disappointed look as he did just what you thought he would and pulled the delicate chain from your neck before tossing it aside.

“Be completely honest with me,” he said, eyes dilating as they locked onto yours and his hand softly cradled your jaw as you were frozen under his compulsion. “Do you want me to turn you?”

“Yes, I want you to turn me.”

“How long have you known you wanted this?”

“Since Klaus came to town, before the sacrifice ritual,” you answered and he was surprised by this… that you’d been thinking about this for that long.

“Do you understand what you’re asking for? The bloodlust, no kids, no way to undo this?” he asked and you nodded softly, eyes still holding his.

“I understand, I know what I’m asking for.” He dropped his hand and pulled away, breaking you from your trance and you blinked as you waited for him to say something. He was weighing his options… sure, he’d wanted this maybe for as long as you had, even fantasized about a life where he could turn you and level the playing field, make it a little easier to clue you in on how he felt about you but he could never bring himself to present it as an option because he couldn’t allow himself to be selfish with you. He thought that would only benefit him, that you were repulsed by the idea of becoming a vampire like Elena was. He knew if he did this the backlash would be intense, people would conveniently ignore it was you who crawled into his bed to ask for this, they’d accuse him of corrupting you somehow but it seemed you’d done that all on your own.

But he realized he didn’t really care about the criticisms, he’d do just about anything to make you happy, to give you everything you ever wanted and this? Well, this was easy. “It seems we have something to celebrate then,” he said as he stood from his bed and walked to his desk to pour two glasses of bourbon and you followed, ignoring the chill that ignited goosebumps over your bare legs. “To your last night as a human,” he said, holding his glass up for you to clink against yours.

“To my last night as a human,” you repeated, taking a sip. “You don’t have any other questions?” you asked and he smirked at you.

“Do you want me to have more questions?”

“Not really… I thought there’d just be more of a song and dance, more convincing,” you shrugged.

“It’s your choice, if this is the life you want then I’m not going to stand in your way. I asked what I needed to be sure you’ve thought it through,” he replied and you nodded softly as you finished off your drink and he quickly poured you another. “How do you want to go?”

You let out a laugh, “are you asking me how I want you to kill me?” He chuckled and nodded. “Well, you have more expertise on the matter… what’s your recommendation?”

“Breaking your neck. Sounds harsh but you don’t really feel anything, it all just goes dark,” he said and you nodded.

“Sounds like the way to go then,” you said and you suddenly felt nervous. Not because you were having second thoughts, Damon’s compulsion had proven you had none, but you were currently standing on the precipice of something that would change your life forever… truly forever, and the thought had a nervous excitement thrumming through your veins and Damon must have heard your heart rate accelerate because went to fiddle with his stereo before soft music filled the room and you gave him a questioning look.

“What, did you think a lame bourbon toast was going to be the last thing you did as a human?” he asked with a shake of his head, “come on, I’m a gentleman.” You smiled as you took his outstretched hand and let him pull you into him, enjoying the feel of his hands on your waist as you swayed softly to the rhythm and rested your head on his chest as you soaked it all in. He was right, these were your last human moments, you should take the time to let yourself truly feel them.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Now’s your chance,” he said as you lifted your head to look up at him.

“I know emotionally things will get more intense, but what about physically?”

He smiled softly, “everything gets more intense, it’s like there was a barrier between you and the rest of the world before… everything gets brighter and clearer.”

Your eyes brightened, “does this mean I won’t need my contacts anymore?”

He laughed, “you’re moments away from dying and coming back to life and that’s what you’re concerned with?” he asked and you nodded. “Your vision will be crystal clear,” he promised as he twirled you around and you smiled as your back collided with his chest, enjoying the warmth as his arms wrapped around you and guided your hips to the beat. “Your dancing will get a lot better too,” he whispered in your ear and you gasped.

“My dancing is just fine, thank you,” you protested and you felt his chuckle rumble through his chest. He brought his wrist up to bite open and held it in front of you, and you looked up at him through your lashes where he just nodded, letting you know it was okay. You closed your lips around the wound, sucking in the sickly sweet taste as he cradled you against him, still swaying to the music. This wasn’t the first time you’d drank from him, but this was the first time you weren’t lying on the ground somewhere in pain; you were in Damon’s room, safe in his arms and it felt… intimate. You tried to stop yourself from reading into it, this wasn’t something small and meaningless. Everyone had a traumatic story behind their transition into vampirism, he was simply making sure you didn’t have the same experience… or at least that’s what you were telling yourself.

When he pulled his arm away you turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his neck, “thank you.” you whispered and he just smiled softly.

“Last exit sign before the point of no return, there’s still time for me to lock you in the cell away from any and all danger until it passes from your system,” he said and you laughed as you shook your head.

“I’m sure, Damon. I want this,” you said and he nodded, pulling you flush against him as you continued to dance… there was no rush, you were simply enjoying this moment together before everything changed. He was soaking in these moments of having you in his arms… you might have crawled into his bed in the middle of the night several times a week, too much pent up energy from the latest disaster to let your mind rest, but this was different. You’d come to him with something you couldn’t go to anyone else for, you were entrusting him and him alone to be the one to change you and it meant more to him than he might ever be able to verbalize to you.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he said and you looked up at him confused. “Turning you, more times than I probably should’ve.”

“You have? Why?” you asked, searching his eyes for answers, as if you’d find something unspoken there.

“If someone else asked I’d say it’s because you’re a liability,” he said as he twirled you again before pulling you right back in and you softly gasped at the force with which you collided against him, “you have a knack for running headfirst into danger… it’d be better for everyone if you were a little more durable,” he said and you chuckled. “But really? I can’t bear the thought of losing you. Every time something happens to you I think I lose a piece of my mind, selfishly I’ve wanted to turn you since I met you to ease my own discomfort.”

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, “why did you never say anything?”

“Because having the thought was selfish enough,” he said, hands trailing up to rest along your jaw. “Are you ready?” he asked and you nodded. “If I’m going to kill you, I need you to say it.”

You giggled, “yes, Damon. I’m ready,” you replied, eyes bright as you looked up at him, unsure of what to expect. His hands shifted, cradling the back of your head and you took a deep breath.

“Close your eyes,” he whispered and you did, feeling his lips press against your forehead and just as he promised… Everything went dark.

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore fan fiction #damon salvatore fanfiction #damon salvatore fluff #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore x you #damon salvatore x y/n #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries fan fiction #the vampire diaries fanfiction

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propertyofushiwaka · 7 months

Text

Green Eyed Monster

Tags/Warnings: oral m!receiving, mild jealousy, mention of cuckholding

a/n: missing my man a little extra today :(

Nanami was never a jealous man. He wouldn’t dream of restricting someone else’s freedoms for his own discomfort. But after you? That patient, calm man that would shrug off interactions that were a little too touchy was gone. Obliterated like it never existed. How could he bear to share the person that matters most to him? It wasn’t purely a sexual jealousy either. Each laugh, smile and light touch was something he desperately wished was only for him. He never wanted you to look at anyone else with that mirth in your eyes. Yet as he watched you speak to the new intern at work (an entirely innocent interaction), he groaned at the all too familiar yet confusing response to his jealousy: he was getting hard.

You were completely unaware of Nanami’s issue despite dating for a year and a half. As he uncomfortably walked by you and the new hire, you smiled at him as he hurried by. Weird. Assuming it was a meeting, you paid no attention to his slightly odd behavior as an increasingly flustered Nanami made his way to the bathroom.

Locking himself in a stall, he sighed as he was finally able to breathe without his trigger looming over him. He palmed his erection and groaned again. Why did you always affect him like this? Did he have a desire to fuck you in front of the intern and show who you really belong to? Maybe, but he wasn’t a possessive man. Secret cuckholding fantasy? Well that’s a new thought. He stared as he grew even harder at the thought of either scenario. “Fuck.” He whispered. He had desperately wished he would simply soften and be able to go about his business but that seemed impossible now. He took out his phone and entered the locked folder the two of you shared. As he entered the pin, the photos unblurred and he gasped softly. While the photos were nothing new, it was mesmerizing each time. He unzipped his pants and freed himself, stroking the precum over the tip with his thumb. Turning his attention back to the phone, started flipping through the photos before he found one that stood out. His personal favorite, the one he took as he was pushed to the hilt in you. There you were before him, mouth open, face flushed, hair disheveled. Blooming bruises and hickeys all over your smooth skin. You looked utterly fucked out.

He began leaking more as he spread it over the head, hissing at the sensation. Why the fuck was he so sensitive? He kept scrolling down and panicked as a video played at full volume. He practically snapped the phone in half trying to get the volume down. Thank God no one else was in the bathroom. But the sound of your moans and the squelching as he pushed into you had him dizzy. He continued to stroke himself, shirt unbuttoned, bracing himself in the stall as he desperately tried to imagine his fist was your hole. He kept replaying the sound of your moans in his head as he stroked faster, nearing his release when his phone started ringing. It was you. Stifling a groan he finished into his hand and panting, answered it with the clean one. “Yes?”

“Nanami, where are you? The intern has to shadow me the whole day apparently and I already made lunch plans with you.” Your voice had a tinge of annoyance that only he could detect. Still trying to get his breath he responded. “Sure, I’ll be right there.”

Lunch was tolerable. You sat next to Nanami to his delight, and the intern was friendly enough. About five years younger than him but knowledgeable about business. He was doing well until you teasingly asked the intern about his type. Nanami choked on his drink. “Well,” the intern responded. “I’m into intelligent women I guess, and people who are patient.” Nanami knew it was an innocent comment, he really did. But in that moment, he wished he could bend you over that table and give the intern a crystal clear view of what you were really like.

“Nanami?” Your sweet voice jarred him from his thoughts. He looked up into your eyes and fuck. He needed you. “I’ll handle the bill.” He chokes out, reaching for his wallet. “Are you sure? Because I-“ You slide the bill towards Nanami and smile at the intern. “It’s alright. We’re your seniors so we’ll cover everything.” You look at Nanami and see his hands trembling as he pays and stands up to walk you and the intern out. He was in one of his moods and you felt electricity course through your body knowing that meant for you. Taking his hand you whispered “Let’s go.”

After escorting the intern to the his car and promising to meet him back at the office, you startle as Nanami pulls your ass against him in the parking garage, his voice raspy with want, “Please, let me have you.” No more words were exchanged. Nanami quickly led you back to his Benz which you had clowned him for buying so early into his career but were now especially appreciative for. As he fumbled with the key fob you unbuttoned the top two buttons of your blouse. Finally the familiar beep is heard and you are practically thrown inside by Nanami who subsequently locks the door behind him, the tint shielding bystanders from your activity. “Kento,” you pant, looking up at his eyes full of need. “What?” He mumbles before resuming leaving hickeys all over your chest. “We need to be back at the office in 20 minutes.” He pushed his face further into you and almost whined. “How am I supposed to focus?” He placed slow kisses on your breasts, trailing up to the column of your neck, allowing you to lean into the pleasure. You weren’t particularly motivated to go back to your desk either. You move to nibble on his ear, intoxicated by his cologne. The car is tight but he moves impossibly closer and you struggle to resist him. “Kento,” You managed to breathe out. “I’ll suck you off while you drive.”

Unsure of how it happened, you found yourself placed back in your seat and Nanami revving the engine, placing his hand over the back of your seat as he reverses. You catch his eyes for a split second and shit. He is not going to make this easy.

You make quick work of his pants, pulling down the zipper and noticing how hard he is. Stroking the tip, you smirk as he hisses. “You’re that sensitive for me already?” He grits his teeth and tries to focus on making his way to the ground floor. “Maybe I already came for you today.” You stare at him and for a moment he worries he’s made a mistake. That worry is quickly replaced by a sudden gasp and you wrap your lips around his tip. He struggles to keep his hips still and eyes on the road as your tongue lolls around the head, licking up the clear, salty pre he kept leaking.

Nanami’s eyes begin to glaze and he fights to keep his eyes from rolling back, opting to place one hand on your head and grip your hair. A man too proud to whimper or moan settling for gritted teeth and grunts. You’re determined to break his pride one way or another. Placing your hand around the base, you squeeze slightly, opting for a featherlight touch. He hisses, a good sign. You suck harder, moving your mouth slowly downwards, taking each inch of him at a time. You can’t see it but his eyes are glassy from the sensation. He could never let you see how undone he was so he made a right turn and accidentally hit a pothole, forcing his dick all the way in, gagging you in the process. So that’s how he wants to play this. You take your attention off his dick and opt to take his balls into his mouth and there it is. He whimpers, it’s brief and choked but you swore you heard it. So you suck harder, stroking his dick and pumping your hand at a gradually increasing pace. He growls and swears but no sign of that lighter, sweeter sound he had given only a moment ago. You’d have to try something else.

You stop touching him altogether and you watch him practically deflate as you wait at the stoplight. Touching his jaw you whisper in his ear “I will break you.” He shudders ever so slightly and oh if he only knew what was about to come. You take his tip in your mouth again, the warmth making him close his eyes before the car behind him honks and he’s jolted from the pleasure. The car goes through the intersection and you take him deeper. Sucking him up and down you place a hand on his thighs and brace yourself as his grip on your head tightens. He’s close, but you’ve barely heard him and you’re determined to fix it. You’re already pressing your nose to his thigh and he can go no deeper but you aren’t to be stopped so easily. Widening your jaw, you suck his balls into your mouth and swirl it with your tongue and there it is. The sound you had been craving. His voice breaks in his throat and the high pitched whimper is a stark contrast to his low, composed baritone. His hand moves to your throat and you feel his balls tighten. A few more breaking whimpers as he turns into the parking lot and you feel him twitch in your mouth. You attempt to mumble out his name and the vibrations of your voice send him over the edge. His voice breaks on a swear and your mouth is painted white, it overflows as you try to swallow it all down. It drips down your chin and onto his balls, which you make quick work of as he parks the car. You lick and suck him through his orgasm as he strokes your hair. Your tongue goes up and down his shaft removing any trace of indecency. Pulling off him with one final suck he pulls you to him and kisses you gently, breathing heavily. You might still be unaware of his jealousy issue, but it manages to work in his favor for now

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #nanami kento #kento nanami #nanami x reader #nanami smut #jjk nanami #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #kento x reader #nanami x reader smut

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prettyboykatsuki · 6 months

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oh ari, the prompt "They didn't like to be touched by just anyone. But that didn't mean they didn't also crave it sometimes." with one of the honkai star rail babes?

✮ tags ; touch-starved dan heng il, mild spoilers for his story, established but new relationship, gn!reader

Dan Heng had never thought about it.

For a long time. Since the beginning of his life, till now. Touch is a—has always been, a foreign concept. The lifestyle and ways of the Vidyadhara are foreign to him despite his lineage. Whatever lessons he might've had on love or relationships, he had lost a long time ago.

The first time someone had ever touched him more than briefly, was March 7th. After a long mission where Dan Heng had almost lost his life, she'd wrapped his arms around his shoulders and sobbed. Hugged him so tight he felt his breaths get labored.

At the time, Dan Heng only found it uncomfortable. But the aftermath had prompted many things. Memories, mostly, of phantom touches. Of a lover he doesn't know, and of a place he doesn't remember.

Dan Heng does not pay much mind to ghosts like these. After all, there are so many of them. His life is a long-standing haunting. It didn't alter the reality, that Dan Heng carries a form that had once been so loved.

He never thought about it, until one day - you confessed your feelings for him. In a simple, juvenile way. With a single flower and box of sweets from the Xianzhou. You confessed your love in a way Dan Heng found endearing. It took him another month to return them.

Since then, you've taken it easy. Gone at his pace, sheltering your true desires so he doesn't get scared away. It's unnecessary, he tells you, but you remain careful.

Before, Dan Heng didn't think about touch or being touched. He didn't like to be touched by just anyone, but he craved it. Sometimes. When he thought of you, Dan Heng would ghost his fingers over his arms and shoulders. So subtly it was easy to dismiss.

Lately it's harder to deny to himself, soft as a whisper. He wants you to touch him, in some small way. He desires it enough that you notice at least.

You're spending time in his room. Alone together, tending to something by yourself. Dan Heng is reading while you play a game. But truthfully he can't focus. The proximity between your bodies makes it hard.

"Dan Heng," You murmur. Dan Heng looks up at you "What are you staring at me for?"

"I wasn't staring,"

You laugh. "Well you keep glancing,"

He feels himself blush. "We're very close."

"Yes, I guess we are." You look at him confused "Does that bother you?"

"...No," He says, feeling his blush deepen "I don't mind if we're closer, either."

You pause, trying to register the words. When you do, your eyes soften. And you smile. You turn to lay on your side, propping your face up with your arm. Dan Heng's brows raise slightly, before he finds himself closing the book and carefully crawling into the space you've opened up on his bed.

He lays down first, and you let yourself slot into his side - legs tangling together. You let your arm drape around his waist as you pull him as close as can be.

The sudden proximity is intoxicating. You smell faintly like perfume and laundry detergent, and your breath is so warm against his skin. You're warm, in general, unlike him.

He melts into the touch despite himself. He knows so little of destiny, but he wonders if love is something that this form is destined for. Otherwise, he can't image being so lucky.

Your fingers splay around his waist, brushing up underneath his t-shirt. He pauses, before tucking his face against your shoulder and melting. He wants so little. Just you. Only you.

"Better?"

He laughs to himself.

"Yes," He says, and does not add anything about tolerating him "Thank you."

#return to sender #dan heng x reader #im(prompt)u game #writing tag

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jazzyblusnowflake · 2 months

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I've got one for ya. What were the first kisses in the N/V/Uzi relationship like. Uzi and N first, Uzi and V's first, and V and N's first.

(Bonus points for V and N's first kiss at the manner for some bittersweet angst)

Also, good golly gumdrops, love your stuff, even if you don't answer this one, still gonna keep enjoying

oh oh i love these kinds of ideas :"D tho it takes a bit of brain power to think of a good scene uhm.... lessee....

Ok so first up, although im still waiting for a canon first kiss for NUzi- since they are a thing now, i still like to think of something separate for my own version- [since obviously the main show isn't going towards a poly dynamic lmao]

See, we all know that the show is fast paced and its hard to find any empty spaces between each event, hell it almost feels like earth was blown apart and the DDs were on copper 9 the next day, Liam we need a fucking timeline order. 🙄 soooooo i personally like to imagine that there's a lot more time between events than is shown in the actual show. like- lets maybe put a few days between Uzi administrating N and V and the arrival of J and Cynessa- like.... maybe lets put a few NIGHTS between that??? what's the freaking rush 😭

But anyway yeah- i would put the first NUzi kiss somewhere around betwenn the camp and the flashback eps probably :p my idea would be that since the camp incidents, Uzi would be having a lot of bodily changes to deal with, one of which being her inability to tolerate the sun much anymore. other things would probably be the growth of literal flesh and blood and bones inside of her and lets make this morbid by adding her throwing up blood but keeping it a secret from everyone :p she may sneak back to the other two at night and stay with them- clearly shaken up- [V probably also being shaken up because on one hand she's terrified of seeing this transformation take place- but at the same time, she clearly cares enough about Uzi AND Ns happiness...] asking for help and advice- and the 3 grow closer during this. They practice with her for flying or controlling her tail- maybe some stuff on her control on oil hunger too. she probably also gets some fighting, sneaking and sparring practice with V-

//insert one of those cheesy moments where V riles up Uzi enough to tag her on the snowy ground but then realizes its the same position she got V in her solver!mode and starts panicking and pushing herself back- V getting back up and asking what the heck was that and Uzi just saying she doesn't want to hurt her and V is an insensitive jerk for making her spar with her in the first place and tries to fly away to calm down-..... which probably just ended with her falling face first in the snow and a lecture from both N and V.

overall they all started subconsciously getting even closer. tbh there's so many things i could add here but i gotta keep it a few NIGHTS not a few MONTHS until the next event 😭

either way during this i guess N and Uzi could have maybe ended up alone at some point- maybe after a flying lesson having gone right and they were a little too happy on top of a building or upturned bus or something lol- i imagine after a hug maybe Uzi asks if she could kiss N but quickly backtracks saying nvm it was stupid or something but N softly says its okay- //probably picks her up too, adding to her embarrassment- cuz she's short lmaooooo// and Uzi just decides to give a small unsure smooch- but decided to make it not too long. they decided to just hug after that to not let the other see them blushing like hell 😭 [also they didn't really decide anything after this cuz they are idiots????😭😭😭]

but anyway for the Vuzi first kiss i have no idea if or when V would return if she's been set to remain alive in the canon- but for me its probably when she appears again in her normal form, as herself. not a clone. Alice isn't alive to take the cores and make them sluggish with heat and the sentinels wouldn't have a chance against the solvers centipede lookin ass form.

Anyway if we consider that one way or another Uzi, N and V will meet up again, [and N and Uzi preferably get to share a better kiss this time-] the first thing Uzi is doing is landing a swift punch in Vs face and then kissing the daylights out of her- //confusing herself and everyone in the area in the process including V herself...// overall she would scold V on the whole "i trust you" shtick and leaving them alone- but yeah :p [ keep in mind that im also considering a few nights between when J and Cynessa show up and when they decide to actually go and find and search the labs, because PLOT REASONS :D ]

as for the first Envee kiss- ill do you one better and make it more angsty and say that N and V used to always spend time with each other and do silly things like hold hands in secret or send internal chat messages to eachother, draw and read books together- maybe N used to put flowers for her sometimes. But at some point a certain little corrupted drone started feeling possessive of her favorite "big brother" figure not spending time with her anymore...

one time, N had asked V if he could kiss her and at that they were both blushing messes but before V could respond they get interrupted- maybe by someone giving them orders or maybe by Cyn. either way, V quickly whispers to him "later, i promise" with a smile, making N happy and giddy. but the later never comes... V becomes comatose soon after... N sadly reading books to her and sometimes whispering to her to wake up and that she still has to keep her promise...

anyway after all things are said and done in the future and the solver is defeated- whether they are still living on copper 9 or any other planet idk- N, V and Uzi are all close, but since both N and V are close to Uzi, they also start spending more time with each other too. maybe one time on a walk or going out and about N was able to catch up with V and they reminisce about old memories they can now remember; and when V was finally able to open up a bit to N, he mentions that he still remembers the promise and asks her if he could kiss her again and she lets him.

and thaaaats all the brain power i have for tonight... i think... hope it made yall smile or cry or idk something lmao. :")

#snowballflo #snow rambles #murder drones #nuzi #vuzi #nuziv #envuzi #biscuitbites #violetviolence #violentbitingbiscuits #uzi doorman #serial designation n #serial designation v #envy #envee #goldenmemories

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