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coryosbaby · 7 months

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1. 𝓑𝓲𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓢𝓮𝔁

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼: Inviting your incredibly nice and incredibly married family friend to your birthday party was not meant to be a way of seduction— or was it?

𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 #2: You clean your neighbor and family friend Anakin’s house, and he comes to your birthday party with a special gift.

𝓒𝔀: bimbo! Reader, infidelity, age gap (reader is twenty, Anakin is in his mid to late thirties)— nsfw . oral (m & f recieving), vaginal fingering, smell kink, daddy kink, sub! Reader, dom! Anakin | | 𝓝𝓲𝓬𝓴𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮𝓼 𝓾𝓼𝓮𝓭: angel, baby, little girl, sweetheart, dollface, kid, honey

𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮: This is part 1 of the Insatiable series ! (Click link for series masterlist)

You’ve never really liked Padme.

And honestly, it’s clear that she doesn’t like you that much either. You don’t know why— you’ve always been nothing but fake nice to her.

At least you have a reason to hate her— that reason being her absolute sex symbol of a husband. Or, aka, a man that’s been hanging around your family for as long as you can remember.

Your hate for Padme originally spawned from the fact that she married Anakin. But as the years have went on, your hate for her has reigned even more clearer than before. She lies, steals Anakin’s money, and cheats— a lot. You know about the last part because you’ve seen random men spew in and out of the house when Anakin is working to make money and pay for the things that she wants. And it enrages you— you don’t understand how she could treat someone as perfect, handsome, and kind as Anakin so terribly.

If he was yours, you would never let him go.

—

You decide to invite Anakin’s to your birthday party.

Of course, he’s always went to them— but reminding him wouldn’t hurt, right? So, on a sunny summer day, you decide to walk across the street to his house. A box of cookies in your hand and in your favorite short skirt due to the scorching hot weather, you knock and wait for him. When he answers, he’s in nothing but a t shirt and boxers. The sight of his muscled thighs and his strong arms makes you a little weak in the knees, but you try to shove your sinful thoughts down. It seems that Padme is gone— thank god. If she knew you were here, she’d have your head.

“Hi, Ani!” You greet sweetly. Although run down and exhausted, Anakin still gives you a smile back. You always lighten the man’s mood.

“Hi, sweetheart.” he replies back.

“Nice day, isn’t it?”

“I guess it is,” his eyes had avert down to the clear box in your hands, the lid pink and adorned with hello kitty stickers. “Are those for me?”

“Mhm! ” you say excitedly. “I just made them! I knew you’d want some.”

Of course you did. You always give your neighbors sweet treats— Anakin the most often, because he’s your favorite. And because you know he loves the things you bake.

Anakin’s steps towards you, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Always know when I need something sweet, don’t you, honey?”

He looks at you with true affection, though you can sense something teasing underneath that pleased lilt. You can feel heat creeping up your neck as he grabs the box from you.

“Thank you.” He says, after a moment. “Have a nice day.”

He goes to shut the door. You shuffle nervously, and then loudly, you blurt out, “Wait! You’re coming to my birthday party this weekend, right?”

Anakin’s brows furrow as he opens the door back up, but he seems amused by your question.

“Do you want me to?”

“I-I mean—“ you stutter, rolling forward on the balls of your feet. “Of course I do.”

“Hmm…” he pretends to think for a moment, a small smile grazing his lips. “And what do I get in return? I’d have to take a day off, if it’s on a Friday…”

Shit. It is on a Friday. You bite your lip, doe eyes looking around as you come up with a plan.

“I’ll.. clean your house?”

It’s a dumb suggestion, one that makes Anakin crane his neck to look back at his slightly cluttered home. He tries to act serious as he looks back at you and crosses his arms.

“What, do you think my house is… dirty, or something?”

You flush, immediately shaking your head.

“No! No, Ani, that’s not what I meant. I- I just… I know you work a lot, so I assume that it’d take a lot of strain off of you. God, I’m sorry-“

“I’m fucking with you,” he interrupts. A smirk glazes his lips. “I know what you meant.” His eyes sweep across your body, and you feel a little dizzy. After a moment, he relaxes and his face splits into a grin.

“Of course I’ll come to your birthday party, kid. Y’know I always do.”

“Okay!” You smile sheepishly, but nervously bite your lip as you speak again. “Uhm.. you don’t have to get me anything. Not at all.”

“I’m gonna get you something.” He states bluntly.

“Okay! That’s— that’s fine.” Your eyes avert from his piercing gaze, something that you should be used to after all these years but aren’t. “I’ll still clean your house, though. I can do it right now, if you want!” You pause, trying to think of how to word the next sentence.

“I… I wanna do something nice for you, Ani.”

There it is again. That look in Anakin’s eyes, hungry, as he steps closer to you once again.

“Well…” he murmurs. ““…Aren’t you just a sweet little girl?”

He brings his fingers up to tank top, toying with the thin material.

You’re slick with wetness, and suddenly feel very shy. Your eyes look down at the wooden porch below you as his fingers brush up on your collarbone. You’re too flustered to really speak again.

Anakin, done with his teasing (for now), steps back and gestures towards the inside of his home.

“Go on,” he says. “Cleaner’s in the cabinet below the sink. You know how I like things to be organized.”

—

Getting the yellow sponge handed to you wet and sudsy, you begin to work on his kitchen counters first. It’s not like they’re gross, per say— his house is more cluttered than nasty. As you intensely work on getting the countertop nice and clean, you can feel Anakin’s gaze pierce through your skin. He had decided to sit at the bar of the kitchen a few moments ago, after finishing half of the container of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Now clad in a pair of jeans and a white wifebeater, he lights a cigarette in his hand. Finally finishing up the counters, you decide to work on the dishes.

Anakin moves to the other side of the bar. He always keeps a radio in this spot, and with idle hands he turns the knob to up the volume a bit. You smile when you hear a Brittany Spears song blaring through the speakers. It’s not Anakin’s taste, but he keeps it on anyways. He knows Brittany is one of your favorite artists.

“So,” he starts, beginning to strike up a conversation. “Twenty one, huh?”

You nod, as you pick up the dish sponge in front of the sink.

“Yeah. Legal drinking age— thank god.” You chuckle, remembering all the times that Anakin had brought you alcohol when you wanted some but couldn’t buy it.

“You’re growing up so fast,” he inquires. You hear rustling behind you— he must be moving around the kitchen. “Not a little girl anymore… ‘s really starting to freak me out.”

“I guess so,” you laugh.

“Time flies.”

It’s quiet after that, for a moment. But something creeps up your neck, like Anakin’s eyes are burning through the back of your skull.

You can feel his presence moving closer to you.

Closer… closer.

And with wide eyes, you feel his breath on the back of your neck.

When did he get so close?

Anakin can’t help but stare at your behind as he watches you— your body is absolute stunning, your thighs soft and absolutely kissable. He loves watching the gap in between your legs as you shift from foot to foot. Loves watching and imagining what your pussy must look like. Probably so wet, so tight underneath that skimpy little outfit. His cock aches at the thought.

He’s feeling bold, now. He doesn’t know why — maybe because he saw his wife leave in a random car earlier that morning, or maybe because he saw the explicit pictures on her phone sent to another man the night before that had caused him to get extremely wasted. But either way, his fingertips reach up and graze your hip.

You exhale sharply, his touch setting off fireworks on your skin.

“It’s different now, isn’t it?” You say, and the insinuation in the question is obvious.

Anakin’s fingertips continue to brush your hips, and then slowly— he wraps his arms around you. Hugging you from behind, pressing his face into your neck and his obvious hard on against your ass.

“Yeah,” he agrees quietly. White hot heat licks up your spine at his gruff voice. “…very different.”

You know it’s fucked. You know it’s wrong. You know he’s fifteen years your senior, you know that he’s married, and you know that he’s been a family friend for years.

But something is tempting you to turn around.

Call it instinct, but your body adjusts to come face to face with the older man. He was closer than you thought he would be. His lips are almost grazing yours. Anakin’s got a look on his face that can only be described as holding back. His eyes shine with desperation and lust.

“Can I kiss you?”

It’s a sentence that seems to be more of a beg than a question. You can’t help but nod. And slow, like an awaiting storm, his lips are on yours— and that slowness soon gives way to electric sparks and teeth and tongue. His arms wrap around your waist, covering your body with his much wider one. He tastes like cigarettes and booze.

Your body is shoved against the sink. Anakin’s tongue rubs against the roof of your delicious, wet mouth. He can’t get enough. He kisses you and kisses you until lips feel bruised.

You savor this feeling, of him using your mouth as his own personal meal. And you fucking love it. No amount of guilt in your body can outweigh the neediness you have for him. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you part your legs so he can rest his hips against you. His jeans catch on your skirt— the flimsy material lifts up past your thighs. He follows the expanse of your legs and takes sight of your pink lacy underwear. Its cute, Anakin thinks, and his thumbs are about to pull them down and ravage you.

But you’re interrupted. Because as quick as lightening, Anakin’s phone is blaring out it’s loud call ringtone.

Jumping back, you and him are both surprised. He huffs, wiping at his kiss bitten lips as he makes way to pick up his phone.

The caller id reads “Padme”.

And fuck, you want to kill yourself right now. Of course, it has to be her of all people.

You hate her.

Anakin is quick to answer, and you can’t hear anything but a distraught voice on the other line.

“Padme? What is it?” His voice is laced with concern, but he lets out a breath when she yells something else. He sighs, his eyes glancing at your for a quick second as he rubs the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Fuck. Okay, okay! I’ll come get you, just— stay there, alright?”

He hangs up with a groan, and turns to you.

“It’s just— Padme. Being Padme. She crashed the car… again. She’s fine, though.”

Unfortunately. You want to say. But you bite your tongue.

And just like that, the tension between you and Anakin goes back into hiding once again.

—

Friday comes quicker than you expect.

Your father and mother wake you up with your favorite breakfast, and you pick out your birthday outfit. It’s a pink dress with puffy sleeves, and you’ve been wanting to wear it for this occasion for months. Your birthday cake is your favorite flavor and decorated— of course— with hello kitty plastered on the frosting.

Your mother gushes at your dress, deciding to take many, many, many pictures of you. But you don’t complain— you’re grateful of all the decorations that she’s put up for you. They suit your taste.

You would’ve invited your friends but you figured this would be a family only type gathering. You may have a second party reserved just for them later.

It’s not long before your relatives arrives. Five o’clock on the dot, your cousins, uncles, aunts, and grandparents have all showed up. You open a few presents, have a good time, have some shots for the first time in front of your family. It’s fun.

But he still hasn’t showed up.

Looking at the clock— half past six now— you can’t help but be disappointed and upset. Anikan promised he would be here!

Your gut starts to churn with different anxieties. What if it was because of that moment back in his kitchen? What if he never wants to speak to you again?

But then, there he is. You hear the familiar roar of his black convertible outside— and your heart instantly soars.

He comes in a bit disheveled, as if he had rushed to get here, with a band tee and black jeans on. The way he still dresses like a young and corrupted boy amuses you— and also turns you on just a little bit.

He smiles when he sees you, and of course you smile right back. You’re so thankful he didn’t make Padma tag along with him— that would completely ruin this entire day.

“Hey, kid,” he says, as he pulls you in for a hug. His fingers trail down past your lower back and graze your ass, though know seems to notice.

“Hey, ani.”

“Happy birthday.” He congratulates you.

You thank him, and his eyes linger on yours for a bit too long as he speaks.

“You look nice.”

The butterflies tingle in your tummy again.

“So do you.”

And after that, it’s not long before everyone else recognizes his arrival and your dad is sweeping by and pulling him into one of his conversations.

As the night goes on, more of your family members slowly begin to leave. You prefer it this way; your judgy aunt Hilda was becoming way too much for you to bear right now. You’re sitting on the living room couch with your mom when she asks you to go and get her bag from the kitchen.

And when you go into the room, Anakin is there. And not only that, but he’s alone. He’s leaned up against your refrigerator drinking a beer.

Your eyes lock with his, and he follows the outline of your curves as you pick up your mom’s bag.

“Everyone leaving?”

His voice rings out through the room, piercing the awkward silence. You shrug, becoming intensely concentrated on the granite countertops all of a sudden.

“It’s late.” You reply. And then, in a smaller voice, “You were late.”

He sighs, and you look back to see him running his hands through his dark locks of hair. He looks frustrated.

“I know, honey. Im sorry. I had work, you know that. And… Padma’s been giving me a rough time.”

“When isn’t she?”

It isn’t meant to come off as snarky as it does, but your comment has Anakin huffing out a breath of air.

“Don’t give me attitude, okay? Im here, aren’t I?” He moves beside you, a look of guilt flashing across his face. You don’t say anything— you simply look at him with those eyes. Those pretty, doe like eyes that Anakin can’t bring himself to stop looking into. His eyes trail down to your lips.

“We should talk,” He says. “About..last weekend.”

You really don’t want to. That’s all you can gather right now. You half heartedly take your mom’s bag into your grasp and gesture towards it.

“I have to go give this to my mom,” you mutter. “See you around, Anakin.”

—

The night is over, but Anakin still hasn’t left. You wouldn’t expect him too, though. He stays over late once or twice a week sometimes to chat with your father. You’ve showered, gotten rid of the pesky hairdo that had taken you hours to do and was so frustrating the whole night but still was worth it anyway, and painted your toes a fresh, hot pink. You’re extremely happy to have your nightgown on, now. That dress was very tight.

Your bedroom door is open, but you don’t mind it. You can hear the sound of a football game from downstairs as you read one of your favorite magazines. Too busy wondering which breaking bad character you are through a printed out quiz in the booklet, you don’t even realize Anakin is at your door until he knocks.

It makes you jump, and when you whirl around to see who it is your bones almost jump out of your skin.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You exclaim. You slam the magazine down onto your vanity, and Anakin chuckles.

“Sorry.”

His footsteps approach you, but not before they’re moving so he can close your door shut. You become drastically nervous now that he’s alone with you. He must’ve made up some excuse about having to go to the bathroom so he could sneak up here.

“What are you doing in here, Ani?” You question feebly. He shrugs, taking a seat on your silky pink bed.

“What? Do I have to have an excuse to see the birthday girl?”

You shyly turn back to face your Vanity mirror. You begin to concentrate on brushing your hair. In the reflection you can see that Anakin is watching you.

“We both know that’s not why.” You reply quietly.

“I guess you’re right,” Anakin agrees. “Maybe it’s because I want us to continue where we left off. ”

Face flushing, you baffle yourself by throwing out an unintentionally disgusting line.

“So you wanna do me in my bedroom while my dad is downstairs? Is that it?”

Anakin smirks, amused, leaning back and seeming cocky. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that the answer is yes.

You turn around, watching this older man manspreading on your bed. Against your better judgement you decide to get out of the chair and sit beside him.

He smiles fondly at the closeness. His fist closes around something in his pocket.

“I got you something.” He says. “Your present. Open your hand.”

It’s a scary request, because Anikan has played tricks on you before by telling you this. Sticking a whole snake in your hand one time and making you cry for hours on end after is proof of how much of an asshole he can be sometimes. But he seems to be genuine, and this is your birthday present, so you hold out your hand for him to take.

He pulls out a box. Anyone could recognize it as one that has jewelry inside the packaging. And you were right. Because when you open it, you’re blessed to see a beautiful set of diamond earrings encrusted with your initials.

You gasp, picking them up and admiring them with excitement.

“Thank you so much, Ani!”

Your gushing over the present makes Anakin’s chest swell, and he’s surprised when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a hug.

It’s been a while since Anakin has been hugged like this. Padme hasn’t touched him in months, or shown him any type of affection. Surprised but pleased, he’s quick to return it, his big arms wrapping around your waist and burying his face in your neck. The smell of your natural scent and strawberry perfume fills his nostrils. He pulls away after a moment. You see the wedding band on his finger, and it brings reality back to you.

“Where’s Padme?” You ask slowly, questionably, but still genuinely curious.

He doesn’t seemed angry by the question, but Anakin’s mouth forms into a thin line.

“Out.” he states. “Probably fucking some random guy she met on tinder.”

“She doesn’t deserve you,” You say, and frown, hand reaching out to touch his bicep. “You’re so nice, and she’s so mean to you. I hate her.”

“Don’t say that. You’re too nice to hate anybody.”

“But it’s true!” You exclaim. “I hate her.” And then, quietly. “She has you and I don’t… ‘S not fair.”

Anakin doesn’t like when you get sad, and he especially doesn’t like when you remind him of that fact.

“I’m not hers, y/n.” He replies, and it’s the truth. His feet move closer to your angry form. “I never have been.”

“Then why are you still with her? Why aren’t you with me?”

“How do you expect me to be with you, y/n? What do you think everyone would say?”

It’s actually a good point, but you dont want to think about that right now.

His arms wrap around your waist, and his face finds the crook of his neck as he breathes you in. You sigh, looking up to the ceiling, your pink curtains, anything but him.

“I want you,” he whispers to you. You try so hard not to look at him. “I want you so bad, angel.”

“You don’t know what you want, Anakin.”

“Fifteen years older than you and I don’t know what I want?” He scoffs, his lips forming into a thin line. “I know what I want.”

His voice takes a much darker turn then, something twinged with arousal and feral possession. “I want to bend you over your vanity and pound my cock into you until I can’t see straight. I want to kiss you, hold you… I’ve wanted it since you were nineteen years old. Cmon, sweets. Why don’t you let me in?”

Let me in. You shiver, and your clothes become unbearably uncomfortable on your body.

“I don’t know, Ani..”

“It’s okay, baby.” He coos, comforting. “Why don’t you let uncle Ani give you the second part of your birthday present, huh? Cmon, let me make you feel good.”

Its once again, truly fucked.

But with the way he’s holding you now, with the words spilling from his lips in that tone.. god, your knees are buckling. You sigh, and mindlessly you begin to run your hands down his body.

“I don’t want you to ever mention Padme to me” you reason with him, as your hands circle his waist. “Ever. Only ever talk about me.”

“I won’t mention her. She’s dead to me.”

You contemplate more deals to make, and then pout. “And I want to be paid for all that cleaning I did last week!”

“Done.”

It’s insane how quickly he agrees to what you want. But alas, he does.

And when his lips press against yours for a second time, you can’t resist falling into him and finally giving in.

To Anakin, you taste like your chapstick— he doesn’t know what flavor it is, but he wants to figure it out soon so he can buy it for himself and always have that familiar sweetness on his mouth. His arms wrap around your waist and he’s desperate, practically consuming you with a neediness he has never felt for anyone else. His teeth scrape against your bottom lip and you feel his tongue enter the warm canal of your mouth. Mewling and pulling yourself away, you press your half naked body against him and begin to trail kisses down his neck.

“Wanna suck you…” you whine. “but—your house— not here..”

Your hands grope his thighs, then one of them moves up and takes hold of his awaiting bulge. He’s big, and you can tell by how fat he feels in your palm already. He lets out a moan, pressing himself further into you and breathing against your cheek, “Yes, here.”

And so be it. You know once Anakin decides something, it’s going to get done. If he wants it, you’ll give it to him. You drop to your knees in an instant, previous request forgotten, pawing at the confines of his jeans and unbuckling his belt. He watches you through hooded eyelids, watches the way your mouth practically drools as you pop the button on his fly and unzip him. His briefs are almost cute. They have little looney toons characters on them. Scoffing and letting out a giggle at the sight of these on a thirty six year old man, who probably knew he was gonna get laid, you look up at him.

“Nice underwear.”

“Shut up,” he groans, gripping your hair with his big hands. “Just suck my cock, baby. C’mon, please?”

Slick forms and leaks down your thighs at his words. Jokes forgotten, you pull the silly material down and his aching cock springs free. Slapping against his stomach, all big and thick with a patch of brown hair at the base, you can see a drop of precum beading on the tip. Your thumb brushes over the spot and smears the creamy liquid around the head of his cock. He exhales sharply, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Shit,” he hisses, eyes shutting closed at the feeling of your hands.

“Ani,” you breathe. Your tongue licks a stripe up his cock, licking up the dribbles of fluid you had just smeared. You lick your lips with need. “You taste so good.”

“Yeah?” He bucks his hips against your face, watching how you greedily slurp his cock into your mouth. “Look at you, baby. Such a needy girl.”

You hum around him, making sure to breathe so the man doesn’t strangle you with his fat cock. The smell of his arousal invades your senses, and your head gets fuzzy. You down him all the way to his base— pressing your nose against the hair there, you almost pass out from how good it all is. He smiles, watching how easily you submit to him. He begins to thrust shallowly into your mouth.

“So fuckin’ good, angel. ” He grunts. “Take it this isn’t the first cock you’ve sucked? Shit— too good at it to not have been dicked down or throat fucked at least twice.”

You moan around him, knowing it’s true. But all the men you’ve hooked up with, they’ve always been older, brunette, with tattoos and an interest in ratty band t shirts— all of them have looked like Anakin. They’ve always looked like Anakin.

Looking down at you, Anakin’s gaze is hypnotized by your glossed lips moving up and down on his cock. His balls slap against your chin at a rapid pace, his cock aching for a warm release. He thinks about what you look like underneath that dress, thinks about how you’re such a fucking bitch for making him give into his raw and primal sensations like this.

“Don’t think you need to call me Anakin anymore, baby,” he inquires, with a growl grazing his plump lips. “Fuck… think you need a daddy, instead. One that’ll actually discipline you—“ he yanks on your head when you try to lift up and get some air, forcing you back down on him. “— and not let you act like a fuckin’ brat. Do you like tempting married men all the time like this, huh? Do you like tempting all of your dad’s friends? Don’t lift your fucking head up, baby, ‘m not done…”

Whining against his cock, your hand moves down against your clit. His degradations are making you desperate to reach your peak— and as fucked up as it is, yes, you do want to call him daddy, want him to take care of you and always keep your throat as his own personal fleshlight for his aching prick. His grip on your hair is causing blinding pain but it doesn’t matter.

As long as you please him.

He finally pulls you off of him, after a moment. Your chin is caked with drool, your eyes watery and tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re gasping, finally gulping in air after being smothered for so long.

“Breathe, honey,” Anakin murmurs, sweet despite his initial angry throat fucking. His thumb grazes your bottom lip. “Breathe for me.. there you go. Good girl.”

Relaxing against his thighs, you’re unbearably hot.

“Daddy..” you cry against him, wrapping your arms around his thick thigh. He frowns.

“Too much?” He asks, concerned. “Do you wanna stop? Or we could take a break..”

His caring demeanor makes your heart clench, and you can feel the tears actually stream down your cheeks now. No one has ever cared for you like this.

But as overwhelmed as you’re feeling, your pussy aches like no other and if you stop for even a millisecond you think you’ll die. You shake your head.

“No, daddy.“

He looks down at you, brows furrowed, and he nods.

“Okay, pretty. Cmon, stand up.” He gestures for you to get onto your feet, and when you ask why, he leans in close to your ear and gestures to your large vanity.

“I wanna fuck you.” He coos gently. “Wanna bend you over, right there. Can I?”

You nod as you pick yourself up on wobbly legs. You fall into him, allowing him to guide you over to the large table. He bends your pretty body over it, your ass in the air.

Anakin’s fingers play with the hem of your night. He loves it on you, thinks the color is so sweet and hypnotizing, but it has to come off or he thinks he’ll go crazy. He lifts up the fabric, yanking the material off to reveal yourself to him. Your cunt is exposed, all puffy, creamy, and slick. Anakin takes note that you aren’t wearing underwear and that your ass is almost too perfect. His hand comes down to lightly smack one of your cheeks. You whine, backing yourself up against him.

“Like a fuckin’ porn star,” he groans. “Body like a fuckin’ porn star, dollface. It’s perfect. And no panties? Sweetheart, you’re a dream.”

His finger ghosts over your swollen clit, and your hips buck against him desperately.

“Thank you, daddy. Wanted to be ready for you. Knew I wouldn’t be able to stay way if you started touching me..”

He smiles, his fingers spreading your slick across your button and down to your slit. He slips a finger inside, and you gasp a little bit. He rubs against your walls with his long digits, and he hits a certain spot that has your thighs crushing his hand. A smile forms on his face.

“Already?” He chuckles as he watches your desperation, rubbing against that spongy spot inside you. Your legs quiver. “Have you ever even been fingered before?”

“N-N-“ you pause, as he slips in another finger beside his first one. He begins to thrust rapidly, a burn forming in your core but nonetheless it feels fucking amazing. “No, no guy’s ever wanted to.”

“How the fuck could they not want to?” Anakin scoffs, baffled. Your wetness coats his fingers in creamy strings as he pulls them in and out of you. “Jesus, you’ve really been needing me. Huh, baby?”

“Always need you,” you whine. You’re close already; it’s insane how much Anakin’s touch affects you. Your wetness makes a loud gushing sound as he continuously finger fucks you. After a moment there’s rustling behind you, and Anakin’s fingers leave you. You whimper, but it’s not long before you’re moaning again when Anakin drops to his knees.

You’ve always dreamed of his tongue; watched how it looked poking his bottom lip, when he rubbed the inside of his cheek and made a noticeable bulge. And now, spreading your pussy lips with his strong hands, Anakin doesn’t hesitate to dive into your drenched cunt.

You gasp, his tongue beginning to draw harsh circles on your clit and then go back down to your tight hole. He pushes the muscle in as far as it can go, feeling against your walls. He practically whines as he does it— never in his life, not even with the woman he had decided to marry ten years ago, has he ever tasted a pussy this good. His cock is still out and rubbing against your calf, all wet and red and hard.

And after he makes you cum, he intends to split you in half with it.

He begins gliding his tongue over your clit again, and shoves his fingers back inside of you. Working you over and over, you can feel that you’re about to reach your peak. You can’t even say anything— his tongue is too perfect, too wet and warm against your aching bundle of nerves. The only thing that can leave your lips is his name as you cream all over his handsome face. You ride your high out with your hand behind you, burying itself in his black hair.

Breathing heavily, Anakin moves back up to grab your neck and turn your face towards his. He kisses you, passionate and with something else you can’t quite place. He grinds his cock against your lower back.

“Gonna fuck you now,” he grunts, as he lifts one of your legs up onto the vanity’s surface. It gives him easier access, and he bumps his tip up against your entrance. “You okay with that?”

You nod instantly.

At your confirmation, Anakin breaches your hole and pushes in slow.

It hurts at first. You’ve taken cock but never any as big as his. He holds your leg with one hand and your hip with the other. You can feel every ridge, every vein as he breaks you apart on him. Your head is down and the vanity digs into your skin, but it doesn’t matter because the way that Anakin holds you makes you feel safe, protected. As if your entire family isn’t downstairs, as if he isn’t taking you like a cheap whore in your childhood bedroom, while his wife is taking a ride in the car that he bought for her.

But you don’t think about that. You just close your eyes, bite your lip, and gratefully accept the birthday present beginning to pound your guts.

#Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker x fem! reader #Anakin Skywalker x bimbo! reader #Modern! Anakin Skywalker #Dbf! Anakin Skywalker #Neighbor! Anakin Skywalker #Anakin Skywalker smut #Star Wars #Hayden Christenen #anakin skywalker fanfic

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rishiguro · 1 year

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hi rin! i recently came across your blog from an angst scenario and i was wondering if you would be able to do a jjk version of “characters throwing their wedding ring” i live for angst haha and i’m really glad i found your blog! also i’m 20!!

JJK CHARACTERS WHEN THEY THROW THEIR WEDDING RING

feat. nanami; toji; gojo; shoko; getou

a/n: angst rules ngl. thank you for your suggestion, i hope u enjoy this (because i for sure enjoyed writing this)

haikyuu version

arguments usually weren’t heated with NANAMI. the two of you believed in open and honest communication so it was rare that either one of you would start yelling. so to say the least, hearing his voice boom in the living room and seeing him so enraged was shocking. you couldn’t focus on him anymore as he continued his rant, face slightly red from his booming voice. but you couldn’t even lift your head to look at him, eyes fixed on the ring laying on the floor — the ring that was supposed to be on his ring finger as a symbol of your eternal love. that was until one second the yelling stopped. as you looked up you saw your husband frozen, gaze downcast in guilt.

loving TOJI could be hard sometimes. he was argumentative, hot-headed and selfish. he didn’t seem to care what buttons he pushed and just how much hurt he would cause. you were terrified to see just how easy he managed to slip the ring off and throw it carelessly to the side right before slamming the door behind him. what you couldn’t see however was him dropping down right after, his back against the wood, with his head between his knees. his breathing shuddered as he clenched his fists, digging his nails into the skin. there was one thing he was sure of — he loved you. could you love him, regardless of how fallible he was?

GOJO was truly special — in one way or another. yet he always made sure to treat you as his equal, because that’s what you were to him. he loved you more than anything and anyone and he never had any problems admitting that. and you never doubted him because he never gave you a reason to. but now you did. “please,” his voice was muffled behind the door, “please let me in” the second you left the room he was right behind you, his pleads for you cut off by the door slamming into his face. “i love you,” he insisted, his hands outstretched. he wanted nothing more than to step into the room and fall on his knees right in front of you, beg for your forgiveness. and he could — but he couldn’t. he shouldn’t. because this wasn’t about what he needed or wanted but about how he hurt you and what you needed from him.

one of SHOKO’s strengths was being level-headed, no matter how serious or loaded the situation might be. she was always aware of what she was doing and of how it might affect others — which is why this hurt even more. she couldn’t explain to herself why she thought for even just a second that throwing her wedding ring, the one the two of you chose together, at you was the right thing to do. she clenched her jaw, hands gripping the steering wheel tightly. she should turn around, go back to you, apologize, beg for your forgiveness. and yet here she was, running away from the one thing she loved and hurt the most — you.

GETOU was aware of his faults. he was a passionate and smug man, going so far as to call himself condescending. and while he was confident that he was able to control his emotions and be a good person and especially a good partner, he soon realized that this wasn’t always the case. his face was pale, a shocked expression etched into it. he looked stunned, shaking his head in disbelief with his eyes staring on his hand. this had to be a dream, there was no way he would do such a thing. he told himself he was going to be good to you, always keep you safe and happy. this couldn’t be true, it had to be a dream, a nightmare. but if it was a dream, why wouldn’t he wake up, safe and secure with your loving arm around him?

reblogs are appreciated

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lixxpix · 1 month

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gone - b.c

genre: angst, breakup

synopsis: you shouldn't have married me. the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words.

word count: 0.4k (short drabble)

author's note: just a short drabble to keep y'all entertained while i write my longer fics:]

"why can't you just leave me alone??" chan was on the brink of exhaustion, and you nagging at him was not helping at all.

"chan-" you began, but was cut off by him almost immediately. "no! you tell me to sleep every single day, you call me 15 times in one day, you won't let me have even a single fucking second to myself!" chan's hands gripped at his hair as he yelled, gesturing around wildly.

"i just tell you to take care of yourself! you stay up until 3am in the morning, never eat and starve yourself, you never even say a fucking goodbye in the morning when you leave!" you yelled, lips wobbling as you felt all the pent-up emotions starting to expand, rising and rising until it was pushing against the walls of your heart and threatening to explode.

"do you know how shitty it feels to have a fucking husband that feels like a long-distance boyfriend? you don't even say goodbye, you come back at 4am every day, and i haven't even seen you in a month-" you stop, a sob threatening to escape, so you compressed your trembling lips into a straight line keep the tears in, though it was a futile attempt.

"well you shouldn't have even fucking married me then! i don't need a fucking second mother bossing me around every single second of the day! this marriage isn't even fucking working!"

you shouldn't have married me.

the words rang in your head, eyes widening ever so slightly as your fragile heart finally shattered like a piece of glass, the final blow delivered by chan's words. you could only stand in place, frozen and rooted in place, tears finally cascading down your face.

"wait- no, shit-" chan could only stammer as he watched your face fall, instantly regretting what he had just carelessly uttered.

"fine." one word, yet said with so much finality. the one word that broke his heart.

hand shaking, you brought your right hand to your left, finally twisting the small band encrusted with sparkling diamonds off. your wedding ring.

how ironic, that the symbol of your love would become the symbol of your separation.

you slammed the ring down on the counter, grabbed your coat and keys, and walked out the front door. he knew your heart was gone, the frayed rope holding your relationship together by a thread finally snapping with the sharp knife of his words.

you were gone.

#angst #stray kids #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #chan x reader #breakup #skz au #skz angst #skz imagines #stray kids imagines

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basketonthedoorstepofthefbi · 30 days

Text

Shaking (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have an anxiety attack in a public setting, but luckily, the doctor is there to help you through it.

Word Count: 2450

Warnings: Anxiety attack, mild cursing, mostly just ANGST and then comforting FLUFF

A/N: Wanted to write Spence comforting the reader during a panic attack. Fanfiction is better than therapy, right? At least, it’s cheaper! Also not my GIF

——

“You don’t want to just order it online?” Spencer asked as you walked beside him down the sidewalk. His longer legs would typically mean that he’d be several steps ahead of you, but he always slowed his pace so you wouldn’t have to strain to keep up with him. He also walked on the outside of the path because, let’s face it, he was a gentleman.

You shook your head. “No, I want the whole experience,” you said excitedly as you walked, your face lighting up in anticipation. You were on your way towards a local bookstore, where the third book in your favorite series was being released today. The bookstore was going to be packed, but you were so excited to be one of the first ones in the door, to get your hands on a physical copy. “I don’t ever do things like this, but it’ll be something I think about every time I look at the book sitting on my shelf.”

Spencer nodded, lifting his hand, his thumb and forefinger in an O-shape as he spoke. “Ah, the age-old concept of symbolic treasures. One of the main reasons why souvenirs are such a prevalent part of going on vacation. Did you know the tradition dates back to Ancient Egypt?”

You shook your head as you continued to walk with him. Your boyfriend carried on without fault. “As far back as 2200 B.C, Egyptian Prince Harkhuf traveled to what is now known as Sudan and returned with all sorts of objects to present to his father, the pharaoh,” Spencer explained. His words spat out quickly, compulsively, as though they had to exit his encyclopedic brain. “He brought back items such as incense, ivory, even the skins of leopards to show off to his father.”

“I had no idea,” you told Spencer as you neared the bookstore, smiling sideways at him. You loved it when he spouted off facts like that, like he had to get the information out or else he’d explode. He had confessed to you more than once before that most people found it weird or off-putting or even annoying, but not you. Rather, you loved learning new things. Whatever information he had to share with you was always relevant in one way or another, and it was just one of the reasons why you loved spending time with him - he made you a more knowledgeable, well-rounded person.

Before either of you could say much else, you’d reached the back of the line of the bookstore. You checked the time on your phone. The store would open in about fifteen minutes. The line stretched down at least a full block, from what you could see. Lots of people dressed like characters from the books, shuffling their feet in excited anticipation.

There were at least a hundred people in the line, and after a minute or two, a couple dozen more had filed in behind where you stood. You pursed your lips for a moment, scanning the crowd until your eyes met Spencer’s.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, inclining his head to the side.

You shook your head. “Nothing,” you said. “Just… lot of people.”

Spencer nodded understandingly, then reached down to take your hand. Your fingers twined with his and he squeezed his palm against yours. “I’m right here,” he reminded you. You didn’t love crowds. They always made you feel anxious, perhaps even a little claustrophobic. You and Spencer had gone to a fairly crowded French film festival a few months ago and there hadn’t been an organized line to enter; rather, it had been a cluster of people, all pressed together. And you had felt like you couldn’t breathe. Spencer’d had to pull you to a seat off to the side so you could catch your breath, and you’d missed getting a seat up front like you’d been hoping for.

Right now, you were okay, though. There were people in front of you and behind you, but they weren’t flush against you like they had been waiting for the film festival to open. And Spencer was holding your hand, and you were outside, with the cool, spring morning breeze hitting your face. It was fine. You were going to be fine. You inhaled deeply and exhaled, then nodded your head, feeling the anxiety dissipate. “I’m good,” you told Spencer, looking up at him.

Spencer nodded. He squeezed your hand once again before letting go, only so he could wrap his arm around your shoulders and tug you so you leaned against his chest. He kissed the top of your hair. “It’s going to be just fine,” he promised you, and you just smiled to yourself.

About ten minutes later, the store opened. You only knew that because the line started moving, and more quickly than you thought. You squealed in delight and matched the pace of the people in front of you, Spencer by your side with an amused grin on his face. He loved books just as much as you did, if not more, but this outing was definitely just for you. He’d read the other preceding books in this series (literally just because you asked him to and it took him an hour, tops), but he wasn’t a total geek for it like you were.

You finally made it inside the bookstore, a small business, a local place. You’d been inside several times before, but you hadn’t realized just how small the building actually was until you stepped in now. It was two stories, but everyone was tightly packed, with the people and the bookshelves crowding around you as you made it fully inside the store. There was even a line to go up to the second floor, like a queue at an amusement park.

There was little to no breathing room. Everyone was talking as they waited their turn to grab a copy of the new book, and the sound seemed to bounce off the walls and the ceiling and smack you right in the ear. The air felt thick despite the front door and handful of windows being opened, allowing the cool spring breeze to ruffle the pages of the paperbacks on display.

But it wasn’t refreshing. Rather, it was another stimulant that caused the neurons in your brain to fire even faster. You felt your palms get slick. You felt your heart start to pound, and your knees wobble as you shuffled forward in the line. What were you even waiting in line for? You momentarily forgot, blinking a few times before looking up at the man beside you. Spencer was engrossed in looking around the bookstore, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he seemed to find something amusing. But when his eyes came full circle back to you, they were immediately filled with concern. “Y/N?” He asked softly, placing a hand on your shoulder.

You couldn’t even hear him. The sound of his voice just bounced off your brain, like you were trapped inside of cellophane. All you could think was trapped. I’m trapped. No way out. Stuck. Caged. Can’t breathe. Can’t breathe.

You felt your breathing go heavy, and your eyes fill up with tears. Your cheeks were red, bright red, judging from how hot you suddenly felt. “Leave,” you managed to choke out, your voice coming out from your throat. It felt like your throat was lined with thorns, like the words you wanted to say kept getting caught.

Spencer nodded. “Leave? Yeah. Yeah, baby, we can leave,” Spencer grabbed your hand, tugging you along behind him as he murmured “excuse me, pardon me,” to the other patrons, to get through the crowd. Moving against the crowd was so much worse than standing still. All those eyes on you, seeing your red face and the anxious tears trickling down your cheeks. It was so embarrassing, freaking out like this is such a public space. Everyone thinks I’m a freak, you thought. Your anxiety became not about the crowd, but about your anxiety, about how you were being perceived. Your breathing picked up, quickened, and by the time Spencer led you out into the morning sun, you were fully hyperventilating.

The thoughts in your head were racing at the speed of light. You hated feeling nervous like this, but moreover, you hated that Spencer had to take care of you because of it. You felt like you had ruined the day because your head wasn’t on straight, because you couldn’t stand in a crowd of people and hear the cacophony of voices and tamp down your panic.

Spencer led you down the block, about twenty feet from the store, away from the crowd, and your breath was still coming out staccato, unstable as you looked down at your shaking hands. You were crying and hyperventilating and the whole world felt like it was spinning. Spencer kept his hold on your hand and stood in front of you, squeezing his palm against yours. His eyes, those light brown irises with little flecks of green, stared into yours. “Hey, Y/N,” he said, bending his knees so his face was level with yours. “Breathe with me, okay?”

You shook your head, your eyes clamping shut. You were so mad at yourself in that moment. You didn’t want to have Spencer take care of you, to have to drag you out of a bookstore because you were having a panic attack. “Baby, you’re trembling,” you heard Spencer’s voice laced with concern. “Look at me. We’ll get through this together.”

You opened your eyes slowly, and that’s when you realized your entire body was shaking. You looked into Spencer’s eyes and he released your hand so he could cup your face. His fingers anchored under your jaw, his thumbs rested on your cheeks, and his eyes were wide, full of worry, but his voice managed to stay soothing and calm. “Follow my breath, Y/N. Do what I’m doing, okay? In for four, hold for four, out for four.”

He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you tried to follow his lead, but you just couldn’t control your lungs. “It’s okay,” he assured you as your brows furrowed, presenting frustration. “C’mon, try again.” He inhaled for 4 seconds, and you managed to match him this time. “Hold for four,” you held your breath while Spencer counted. “And out for four,” you exhaled deeply. “Good, okay, let’s do it again.”

Spencer guided your breath for a few minutes, until you finally felt like you could do it on your own. And when you finally felt yourself coming down from the rush of panic that had sent you into fight-or-flight, you wiped at your wet eyes. “I’m sorry,” you croaked, and Spencer just shook his head.

“No,” he insisted, taking your hand and placing it on his heart. You could feel it beating through his long-sleeved t-shirt. “No, you don’t have to be sorry.” You rubbed your hand against his chest, finding it comforting as you hung your head. “Baby, look at me,” he requested, and you met his eyes.

“Please don’t ever apologize for having an anxiety attack, okay? For one thing, it’s not your fault. You can’t control the chemicals and waves in your brain and how your body reacts to situations,” Spencer began, his hand on top of yours that rested on his chest. You nodded, using the heel of your free hand to wipe away your tears. The crying was over, you were fairly certain, but god, did this suck. “You also should never feel ashamed for having a panic attack, Y/N. It happened, and we’re working through it. It’s a lot like boiling a pot of water, isn’t it?”

You let out a garbled sounding laugh and your brows furrowed. “How so?” You stammered out.

“Well, you set the pot of water on the stove, right?” Spencer began, and you nodded. “And then when it starts to bubble, that’s your anxiety. Some sort of external stimulant - the stove, or, in your case, the overwhelming feeling of being in a crowd - is causing the water to bubble. And when the external stimulant increases in intensity, so too does your anxiety. And sometimes, yeah, the pot boils over.” Spencer shrugged like it was no big deal. “But then you just turn the stove off, grab a dishtowel, and clean up the mess. Problem solved.”

You cracked a half-hearted smile. “So in this metaphor, you’re a dishtowel?” You asked, curling your fingers around the fabric of his shirt.

“Technically, I think it’s a simile, but yes,” Spencer grinned as he looked in your eyes.

“But the book,” you sighed, looking back at the bookstore, which was still filtering people in and out slowly. The patrons leaving the store clutched their new copies of the book in their hands, grinning and taking pictures with their phones, laughing with their friends excitedly.

“Do you want to get back in line and try again?” Spencer asked, and you bit your cheek pensively.

“I don’t think so,” you said softly, defeatedly.

“That’s okay,” Spencer said. You loved that he wasn’t coddling you, he was just feeling it out, seeing what you were up for. “Do you want to get brunch somewhere and come back? Maybe the line will have died down by then?”

You nodded, your lips curling into a small smile. “Yeah,” you agreed. You realized your hand was still over his heart, rubbing at his chest. Your movement halted and you retracted your hand, but before your arm could fall completely at your side, Spencer scooped your hand up and kissed the back of your palm. “What if we come back and they’ve sold out of the book, though?” You asked as Spencer walked with you in the direction of one of your favorite brunch places, just a short walk from the bookstore.

“There are twenty-two independent bookstores in the D.C. metropolitan area alone,” Spencer rattled off. “If this one doesn’t have it, we’ll drive around until we find one that does.”

“What article did you read that told you how many bookstores were in D.C?” You asked. You often liked to challenge him by asking him to cite his sources.

“No article. I did a search on Google Maps last night,” Spencer explained.

“What, because you knew I’d freak out when we walked into this one?” You asked him.

Spencer shook his head. “No, just wanted to have a contingency plan in case our first stop sold out before we got there.”

“Always thinking ahead, huh, Boy Wonder?”

“Damn straight.” A smirk formed across Spencer’s lips.

You shook your head. “You’re the best dishtowel a girl could ask for.”

#spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfics #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff

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mariasont · 1 month

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Okay , so a smutty Spencer x reader fic where is very alternative with tattoos and piercings. Maybe she works with the team as an entomologist or something idk BUT she always wears her contacts and one day she comes in thick black frame glasses. Spencer goes feral, he's never seen her in glasses before and he just kinda drags her into a hall closet and just "keep the glasses on" there's a lot of fanfics about the reader going feral seeing Spencer in glasses for the first time but what if it was reversed.

Framed Fascination

A/N: omggggg i loved writing this, you just know spencer would sooo be a sucker for a woman with tats and piercings, so canon

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REQUESTING xoxo

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x alt!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ minors dni, glasses kink, praise, p in v, dirty talk, degrading sort of, office sex

wc: 2k

When you began dating Spencer, it raised a few eyebrows. Spencer Reid--reserved, a bit awkward, and endlessly knowledgeable--had ended up with someone who they thought was his complete opposite. And to that he would always say, "while the prevailing research suggests similarity is more common in relationships, there's an interesting phenomenon where sometimes, the very things that differ between two people can create a complementary dynamic, much like how two puzzle pieces with different notches fit."

At times, you would point out your differences solely to prompt this response. But, in truth, aside from your outward styles, you shared more similarities than not. Your tattoos and piercings were the first details Spencer noticed and quickly became his favorite as you strode into the morgue on a particularly demanding case. You were immersed in explaining how arsenic disrupted the body's functions, but Spencer was lost in the visual narrative of your ink, his gaze lingering on every etched symbol and shaded figure. From that moment, he was wholly engrossed, and vowed to eventually explore all the unseen tattoos that your clothes kept from view.

Spencer may have had the whole 'nerdy boy-next-door' aesthetic down to a science, but you? You took pride in being called 'intimidating', knowing it was just a first impression. You knew that beneath that surface lay as Spencer would say, 'a cinnamon roll'. Spencer seemed to see through it from the beginning, which is why he didn't hesitate to ask you out as soon as the case closed.

In the span of eight months, your life had been transformed into its healthiest chapter with Spencer as the culprit. He filled every day with thoughtful gesture--surprise art museum dates, breakfast in bed, flowers that would mysteriously find their way to your desk, notes you'd find tucked inside your coat pockets. In fact, if you had seen it in a cheesy rom-com, he probably had done it. You had been tackling each day with a little spring in your step.

Just like today--you bounded into your office humming—you were humming as you went over paperwork. Tasked with consulting for the consumer safety department, your focus was zeroed in on the pervasive issue of phthalates creeping into beauty products. You adjusted the unfamiliar weight of the thick black frames perched on your nose--an odd sensation since you habitually opted for contacts--as your eyes dragged over the papers.

The hum of the fax machine broke the silence, and you swiveled in your chair, a smile dawning as you recognized the documents from last week's BAU case--giving you a chance to steal a moment with your boyfriend.

Paperwork in hand, you made your way to the BAU office, the click of your heels on marble floors keeping time with your quickening pulse. The bullpen was a whirlwind of activity as you greeted Morgan and Prentiss with a nod and smile, your gaze sweeping through the room until it landed on him.

"Hi there, handsome," you greeted with a playful lilt in your voice, your fingers rapping gently against the wood of his desk.

"Hi, sweetheart--," he began, but his words trailed off as his eyes met yours. There was a pause, a momentary lapse in his ever-flowing stream of thoughts, as he took in the sight of you.

Glasses? He couldn't recall you ever wearing glasses, yet there they were, and the effect was undeniable. The sight sent a wave of unexpected thrill through him--a visceral reaction that left him speechless, his lips parting in awe.

Spencer's throat cleared, a subtle sound amid the bullpen's activity. His gaze flickered around the room, a silent plea that his colleagues were too engrossed in their work to notice the way he practically undressed you with his eyes. "Since when do you wear glasses?"

"Since I nearly scratched my eye out trying to get my contacts in this morning," you said with a laugh, though the action of straightening your glasses was more of a nervous tic.

His stare was unyielding--intense and almost piercing. It unsettled you slightly as you studied his expression, your head tilting inquisitively as he said nothing else.

"Well, uh, anyway I have to drop this off to Hotch," you murmured, your voice trailing off as you felt the weight of Spencer's penetrating gaze.

You lingered for a heartbeat too long, hoping for a word, a smile--anything. But nothing came. With a shaky breath, you turned away, hands trembling ever so slightly as you handed the paperwork to Hotch. You whisked yourself back to the comfort of your office. The was weird, right? I mean, sure, Spencer had never been one for being overly affectionate in public, but he at least had more to say than that.

You pushed the nagging doubts to the back of your mind, focusing on the monotony data and figures that sprawled across your reports. He was probably just having a bad day, too maybe theoretical thoughts brewing in the beautiful mind of his.

The hours crawled by, each minute punctuated by the drone of the office--uninteresting reports, pesky coworkers, and the persistent buzz of thoughts circling back to Spencer. When it was an appropriate time to take your lunch, you pushed your laptop aside with a little too much eagerness, hands diving into your bag for your food.

But before you could do that, a soft interruption at the door caught your attention. Your head snapped up, meeting Spencer's gaze as he leaned causally against the frame of the door.

He stood there, watching as you glanced up at him, the rims of your glasses framing your eyes in a way that made an involuntary shiver down his spine, his gaze lingering on your face. You appeared tired, yes, but the image of you like this had been imprinted on his mind all day, rendering his work secondary to the thought of seeing you again.

"Spence, hi," you greeted, a sweet smile blooming on your lips as you peered up at him. Your brows knit together slightly; his visits were rare unless case-related. "I was just about to take my lunch, wanna join?"

"No," he replied with a swift shake of his head, the corners of his mouth twitching into a knowing smirk. "Could I borrow you for a second?"

Your gaze returned to the lunch that lay before you, untouched and suddenly unappealing. Letting out a small sigh, you nodded. "Sure," you replied, still trying to piece together Spencer's odd behavior today.

He tilted his head back subtly, a silent cue for you to follow him. You obliged without hesitation, following after him, your steps echoing his through the hallway. Your confusion mounted, etched into the deepening furrow of your brows with each corner turned.

"Spencer," you said, a giggle escaping your lips. "I trust you're not taking me down some ominous hallway to meet my untimely end?"

"Actually, it is an interesting fact that the majority people meet their 'untimely end' at the hands of someone they love."

"Great, thank you for that, I think that's my cue," you joked, pivoting away in an attempt to make a dramatic exit. But Spencer's reflexes were quick, his grasp secure on your wrist as he steered you into the nearest supply closet. The small space muffled your surprised oomph as you nearly collided with a stack of supplies.

You stumbled into the warmth of his chest, your glasses skewing comically as you steadied them with a fingertip. "Spencer! What has gotten into you?"

"You," came his growl, rough and urgent, while his hands frantically sought your legs, pinning you against the wall.

A soft moan slipped through the surprise of parted lips as his lips found yours. Your fingers tangled in the soft locks of his hair, pulling him closer, your mouth meeting his with the same intensity.

Your laughter mingles with the kiss as you pull back, lips brushing. "Not that I'm complaining, Agent Reid, but someone is definitely going to catch us."

His eyes meet yours, equally amused as he pins your hands over your head. He makes quick work of open-mouthed kisses on your neck, your body instantly melting into his as his teeth scrape along your sweet spot. "Don't care."

His lips trailed back to yours, his fingers fumbling to push your skirt up to your stomach. You let out a surprised gasp into his mouth, finding the sudden intensity of him incredibly hot. He pressed his thumb into your clit as you dug your fingers into the nape of his neck, your head lolling back as you all but thrusted into his hand. The room swirled with heat, your glasses misting up. You reached for the pesky frames, but his fingers intercepted, pining them against your chest.

"Those stay on, sweetheart." The words tickled your ear, intimate and close, as his fingers traced through your slick folds, coaxing a contented pant from you.

"That's what's got you all worked up, Spence?" You moaned out as his fingers glided over your skin, now slick, drawing a line of warmth up your body.

He settled his thumb on your tongue, shutting you up as he grabbed a handful of your ass. You wrapped your lips around it, savoring the taste as your eyes locked with his over the foggy veil of your glasses. His gaze held a quiet pride as he smirked.

"Drove me crazy seeing you like that this morning." He said as he ground his body into yours, his erection settling on your stomach. "Makes you look so fuckable. Couldn't focus on anything else."

Your mouth vibrated softly around his thumb, muffled as he drew it away with pop. He makes quick work of undoing his belt, shoving down his pants and boxers just enough to release his length.

Your mouth watered at the sight, your body instinctively lowering to your knees, but his hand was there stopping you with a firm, "No time."

He pinned your shoulders to the wall with his body, his mouth crashing with yours with desperate need. Your mouth fell open into his as you felt his length press into your opening, his fingers holding your panties aside.

"You feel so good, sweetheart."

You don't think you would ever get over the feeling of him inside you, the way he stretched you out just right. You let out an unrestrained moan as he proceeded to pump inside you, his movements ruthless.

His palm sealed over your lips, a sudden barrier that sent warmth spreading across your face, glasses clouding rapidly, obscuring your view. "Quiet, baby. You want everyone to know how much of a slut you are for me? Letting me fuck you in the office?"

You all but sobbed against his palm, your hands fisting the material of his sweater as he continued to abuse your pussy with deep strokes.

"Sp-Spence, please baby," you managed to breathe out as he released his hold on your mouth, grinding against him in an attempt at friction with your sensitive clit.

"What do you need, sweetheart?" He questioned, almost condescendingly as his fingers traced your cheek gently, a stark contrast to the way he pounded into you. "Need me to take care of you?"

"Please," you choked out.

"You're so good for me, baby." He said, his thrusts becoming sloppier and sloppier as he pressed his thumb to the part of you that ached most. You let out a sob of relief as you ground against his movements, the familiar coil in your stomach beginning to wind up as you clutched at Spencer's face.

"Spencer, shit, 'm so close," you babbled, tears welling in your eyes as each of his thrusts seemed to urge the ache.

"Go ahead, baby." He moaned as his you felt his thighs twitch against you. "Come on my cock, sweet girl."

His words were all you needed to push you off the edge, your back arching against the wall as your legs shook, threatening to collapse as a wave of pleasure washed over you. He came shortly after you, his form yielding to gravity as his head nestled into the crook of your shoulder, both of you panting softly as you tried to catch your breath.

After savoring a few heartbeats of content, he gently disentangled himself from you. His fingers deftly rearranging your skirt, with a touch so soft, so different from his demeanor two minutes ago.

"Guess I need to wear the glasses more often, huh?"

A soft laughter bubbled up from him, his fingers lightly grazing under your eyes, brushing away the stray smudges of makeup. "Please do."

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x you #mgg #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid fanfic

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amuseoffyre · 10 months

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The Ineffable Mrs Sandwich

So. Mrs Sandwich.

I've been wondering at her relevance. I put a post up a bit ago about the signs at her front door that rang honking great foreshadowing bells: "Come Upstairs" and "No pairs. One only. Be Brave" on a wall surrounded by stars. Not to mention they now have a “New Model” with “Friendly Hands” up there.

In the party, she says something to Aziraphale that made my brain jangle because of all the meta that I've been eating: [her girls] stand on their own two feet. Initially I thought this was a sex-work joke, but there's the fact that at the beginning of the season, both lads are completely co-dependent, especially Crowley who talks about "my only friend". By the end of the season, the boys are separated and they will be forced to stand on their own two feet for the first time since 2500BC.

Throw into the mix that God's department is always referred to as "upstairs" and Mrs Sandwich is the only person shown coming down from an upstairs to a ground level that has a chandelier, much like Aziraphale's bookshop also has a chandelier on the ground floor, directly over his contact point with the almighty.

"I don't know why you invited me," she says and Aziraphale makes a point that she's part of their world, even if she feels she's separate from it. Then you have the seamstress conversation and yes, maybe she is a brothel madame, but the fact she can't say what her actual role/position is has very ineffable vibes to me. A convenient way to mask her real identity/purpose.

When Crowley walks her out the party, he says "Have you got your hand in?" and she replies "Oh, I've got more than that, love." which would track for the person who was playing three-card monty with the universe. Since they're so careful with their dialogue, between all of this and her calling Crowley “a good lad”?

Add the fact that her "girls" upstairs can tell when Nina is unhappy when making coffee and that one of the drinks she orders almost matches the order by the Metatron, who has professed to consume human food/drink. His version has almond syrup instead of hazelnut and almond is symbolic in the bible for watchfulness and promise of a new season. (However, interestingly, some Biblical translations of hazelnut and almond mean the same thing)

And what is a sandwich if not two separate sides with something in the middle?

#good omens meta #good omens spoilers #good omens s2 #good omens season 2 #mrs sandwich #good omens

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mieluscious · 2 months

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beautiful liar. neuvillette

ෆ pairings : neuvillette x female reader

ෆ genre : smut, fluff

ෆ word count : 4.5k

ෆ warnings : mdni. judge!neuvillette, secretary!reader, teasing, fingering, biting, desk sex, semi public, unprotected sex, size kink, crying during sex, praise kink, soft sex (rough at the end), squirting, multiple orgasms, a lot of petnames, neuvi is a dragon but yk that hihi . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

you knocked 3 times on neuvillette's office door before hearing a "come in" from his deep voice. you slowly opened the door and the sound of your heels echoed on the tiled floor as you gracefully swayed your hips while walking to his wooden desk.

“monsieur neuvillette, what are you still doing here ?” neuvillette slowly lifted his gaze from the documents in his hand, his beautiful eyes gliding over the lovely curves of your body as you walked up to him. “everyone's in liyue to celebrate chinese new year, why didn't you accompany furina ?” you asked before placing a cup of coffee on his desk and your gaze fell into his.

“i don’t have time for that.” you crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head to one side. you sighed as he turned his attention back to his work.

neuvillette was a very serious and solitary man, he didn't like to mix himself with the fontainians and give them a chance to get close to him. he believes that close personal ties will lead to suspicions about the justness of one's judgments, while he must remain a symbol of absolute justice. what a cold and distinguished man, you smiled at the thought.

“i still think you should learn to have a little more fun. it could be good for you.” he brought his hot cup of coffee to his lips without taking his eyes off the lines of his precious documents.

“who said i didn't know how to have fun ?” he asked and you startled slightly when his piercing eyes suddenly looked up into yours. “you ?” he blew on the hot coffee before taking a sip. "is there anything you know about me that i don't, miss y/n ?" he set the cup down on his desk and sank into his chair without breaking eye contact.

you couldn't tell whether neuvillette was annoyed with you or amused by the situation: his face was impassive, giving you no chance to guess his thoughts. you tried to pull yourself together and inhaled, not realizing that you'd stopped breathing for a brief moment, you couldn't lie to yourself neuvillette was a very intimidating man and he knew it. you tried to hide your discomfort and smiled at him, you tilted your head to the side, letting small strands of hair slip out of your bun, which didn't escape his sharp eyes.

“no sir that's not what i meant, i wouldn't dare.” an almost invisible smile played on his lips for half a second. "i just think you work really hard and deserve to rest as much as the other members of the seven sovereigns.” neuvillette's slender finger slipped down the arm of his chair, which he tapped slowly with the tip of his fingernail. you swallowed loudly as his eyes slid slowly over your body.

his fingernail suddenly scratched the wood of his chair as his gaze fell on your chest. a button on your shirt was unbuttoned, revealing the beginnings of your breasts. neuvillette was a stickler for the rules, and even more so for the court dress code.

"and you, miss, why are you still here, don't you want to have fun either ?" his question took you by surprise, your teeth caught your lower lip. “come closer.” his voice was even deeper than before, and you couldn't help the delicious sensation running through your body to reach between your legs.

you stepped forward until the fabric of your long skirt touched his desk. neuvillette crossed his legs without taking his eyes off you, he could feel your stress for miles.

“are you gonna answer me ?” you raised your gaze to meet his, not realizing that your head was down on your heels, too deep in thought. why were you so stressed like a teenager who was about to get reprimanded ? you pinched the side of your thigh, trying to wake yourself up.

“it was too late for me to catch the last boat.” you cleared your throat “and my little sister needed me tonight anyway.” you clenched your fists nervously as neuvillette stroked his chin with his fingertips, analyzing your every facial expression. “so it’s fine for me, i’ll go tomorrow.” you jerked back when he suddenly got up from his chair and walked around his desk, warm chills ran through your body as you felt him close to you.

“look at me, please.” you lifted your face towards him and blushed as you saw him closer than you thought, his tall stature towering over you. you took a step back as he took one towards you, making you catch yourself up to his wooden desk. his heeled boot came between yours and the little voice in your head couldn't help but scream.

“monsieur-” neuvillette caught a lock of your hair which he pinched between his slender fingers.

“you're really a beautiful woman.” your gaze immediately went back to his, and his attention escaped you for a second when he noticed the loose button on your shirt again. the fingers of his other hand ran up the side of your arm before grazing the collar of your shirt with the tips of his fingernails. your grip on the desk tightened as his darkened eyes met yours. “and such a beautiful liar.”

it all happened very quickly when neuvillette lifted you onto his desk with one hand under your thigh. losing your balance, you caught yourself on his torso, your fingers gripping his jacket. you remained petrified, your face was against his chest for a brief moment as you felt the tip of his finger pressed against the skin of your neck and up to the underside of your chin, which he lifted towards him. you gasped as you felt his sharp fingernail dig slightly into your lower lip as your gaze locked with his.

“does a pretty mouth like yours intend to keep lying to me ?” his other fingers grasped your jaw, delicately bringing your face to his. “should i remind you what punishment i give to liars ?” you mewled prettily as you felt his warm breath on your greedy lips. he pressed a bit more on your lip, making you open your mouth under his burning eyes. “answer me, pretty woman.”

your fingers tightened on his jacket, the way he addressed you was always distant and feeling him so close almost made you lose your mind. you felt your body getting hotter with every second you were with him. you had been working alongside neuvillette for years and had always felt this attraction for him. he was probably the most beautiful man you had ever seen in your life. the way he spoke and the elegance of his attitude could only make you blush every time you laid eyes on him, but what you'd forgotten was that neuvillette was a very observant man, and he knew everything you've been trying to hide from the start. in one glance he could read you like an open book.

“i’m sorry.” his forehead brushed yours as you stared at him, hypnotized.

“sorry for what, my dear.” his pointed ears twitched softly at the cute little whimper that escaped from between your lips at the way he called you.

“i'm sorry, i lied to you.” his fingers tightened firmly on your collar at the sight of your pretty eyes getting glassy, you were such a beautiful creature. you leaned your head back, moaning right under his lips as you felt your clit throbbing between your legs. he was so beautiful, you wanted him inside you, you wanted to feel his skin against yours, you wanted more of his warm breath against your pretty lips. neuvillette bit his tongue inside his mouth at the sight of you in such need. he could read every single emotion on your face and it was a very dangerous game for him.

“what else.” it didn't sound like a question, but more like an order. you spread your thighs and leaned a little more against his muscular chest pressing your pussy against the wood under your ass. desperate to bring pressure to your clit. neuvillette soon noticed what you were trying to do and his hand went to the back of your neck, gently pulling a few strands of your hair still trapped in your messy bun.

he didn't want to hurt you, he wanted to keep you under control.

you smiled and bit your lower lip, taunting him with your hypnotic eyes when a whimper escaped from between your erotic lips as your hips twitched, finally feeling the delicious pressure you needed on your clit. neuvillette snapped and wasted no time in laying you down on his desk, him between your thighs as your skirt was pulled up to your hips. you arched your back slightly under his dark eyes and reached down for the fabric of your skirt, which you pulled up a little further, revealing your black lace panties to him.

“and i'm sorry for wanting you.” he placed his hands on either side of your head as his gaze darted over every inch of your angelic features. “i'm sorry to have thought of you between my legs more than once.” his pelvis suddenly pressed against yours, making you moan under his burning gaze, you grabbed his jacket again and slowly unbuttoned it. “i’m sorry for being so wet every time you look at me with those pretty eyes of yours.” you whispered as something hard pressed against your pussy and a muffled sound was heard in the back of your throat, you needed him so badly you could feel yourself sweating under your clothes because of the heat emanating from your body.

neuvillette was close to losing his cool, seeing you almost trembling with desire underneath him was driving him crazy as time went by. he could see your buds sticking against the fabric of your shirt making your breasts even more delicious than they already were. he thrust his hips against your pussy again just for the pleasure of watching them jiggle under his lustful eyes. you mewled as you wrapped your legs around his hips, wanting to feel more of his hard length against your wet cunt.

neuvillette straightened up and removed his jacket, which he threw behind him, leaving himself in a white victorian shirt with a collar plunging over his muscular chest. he remained silent as he watched your arm rise slowly to your head, your delicate fingers untied your hair which spread out on his desk, giving off a scent of vanilla and jasmine. neuvillette gritted his teeth as he felt them grow, how such a delicious creature like you could exist.

you gasped as he suddenly grabbed your panties and ripped them off, bringing them to his nose, sniffing the scent as if his life depended on it. with his other hand, he pressed his thumb against your clit, making you cry out. he was having so much trouble controlling himself and seeing you so pretty under his caresses didn't help at all. your breasts jiggled every time his thumb ran around your swollen bud and his pointed ears twitched as he saw your wetness dripping down his pants.

“n-neuvi..ah!” a real smile spread on his lips for the first time and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of it. he slipped your panties into his pants and grabbed your hip firmly.

“what a cute little name you are giving me, my dear.” his thumb slipped between your folds and you arched your back as you felt him slowly caress your entrance, teasing you. “should i show you how i like to have fun ?” your cheeks suddenly burned at the sound of his voice, he was playful and wanted to feel you melt between his delicate fingers. he lowered himself to your ear and blew on it as his thumb made its way between your spongy walls, making you cry out as you turned your face towards his, looking deep into his eyes who fell on your mouth, which opened wide, giving him a perfect view of your wet tempting tongue. “hum ? my precious doll.” you caught your lower lip between your teeth, and none of your gestures escaped neuvillette's calculating gaze.

“did i upset you ?” his other hand came up to your face, tucking delicately a lock of your hair behind your ear. his nose brushed yours and you felt so small under his charming eyes.

“no, darling. you've piqued my curiosity.” his thumb moved up to your clit, while two of his other fingers found their way back between your tight wet walls. a jolt of electricity ran through your body as you felt the tips of his slender fingers caress your sensitive spot.

a smile spread on his lips as he noticed you open your mouth wide to let out a soft moan. your face was so red and the slow, delicious movements of his fingers inside you made you almost see the stars, even though he'd only just started to play with you.

“i’ve got the impression you still have some apologies to give me, you haven't told me everything.” he hummed playfully as you clung to his shirt with both hands, trying almost desperately to find support as you were taking each of his deep thrusts into your cunt. with his other hand, he delicately pushed aside a few strands of your hair that had fallen over your face from rocking back and forth on his desk. “tell me, angel.” his thumb slipped over your lower lip, which you caught between your teeth as you threw your head back, groaning as you felt the pace of his fingers getting faster, hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“i’m…sorry for-ah!-” you arched your back, pressing your breasts against his chest as he slipped his thumb into the corner of your mouth, whispering a soft "open wider" against your lips.

neuvillette kept biting his tongue, trying to stop his canines from growing as you begged him with your pretty eyes, which became filled with tiny tears, shining like diamonds, as you were close to breaking under his caresses.

“i-i’m sorry for touching myself on your desk when you..-” you squealed as his gaze darkened at your words, his thumb dropped from between your lips as it slid along your jaw, stroking it gently.

“when i what, precious ?”

“...ahh...when you were busy with-…trials.” he hummed softly against your lips and it made your heart race faster. he was so close to your face that you couldn't help but want to have a taste of his lips, which seemed so luscious in your desirous eyes.

“you’re so honest, i’m proud of you.” his warm breath brushed your lips in a soft whisper and you suddenly cried out when you felt his fingers arch inside you, stimulating the spot just above your spongy wall.

your legs tightened around his waist as you rocked your hips against his, greedy for more. his thumb pressed hard against your clit and a tear rolled down your flushed cheek. it was too good and the way he knew how to push all the buttons to make you feel this way made him even more attractive.

“behave, sweetheart. we have time, take it slow.” you nodded, whispering an apology between moans. you were almost sobbing underneath him as he remained calm despite his difficulties, you thought it was unfair and your urge to push him over the edge was growing stronger and stronger.

“please..” you bit down on your pouty lips, trying your best not to cum, when his cold eyes fell back into yours after he'd finished analyzing every feature of your pretty face. you wrapped your arms around his neck as your hands slipped into his long white hair, its scent invaded your nostrils and a sigh of relief escaped from your lips. one of your hands slipped over his jaw and you brought your lips close to his, neuvillette groaned deeply as he felt your lips almost touch. “i need more..” you whispered to him as if what you were saying was a secret, and the little sparkle in your eyes was the last straw for his canines, which had grown completely out of control.

he arched his back prettily as he felt the fingers still in his hair sliding along his long locks until you pulled on them slightly, making him part his lips. you lifted his face a little more, making him look down at you as you smiled tenderly.

“don’t you think i deserve more ?” he opened his mouth wider and you gasped as his sharp canines revealed themselves. he chuckled deeply as he felt your wet walls tighten around his fingers, which were now fucking you harder, making you cry out under his sudden violent thrusts. he arched his back even more and pressed his pelvis against yours at each thrust of his fingers inside your dripping cunt, dry humping himself.

“with a face like yours, i think you deserve the world.” your juices were flowing through his fingers and you threw your head back screaming as his palm pressed against your clit, blurring your vision. you were so close and neuvillette knew it. “and i'm willing to give it to you.” you wrapped your arms tighter around his neck, moaning louder at his words. his hair fell loose, letting his pretty locks slide against you and around his face, all you could see was him and how gorgeous he was.

“you’re..so beautiful neuvillette.” you noticed a pretty rosy hue coloring his cheeks and a soft smile played on your lips between gasps. you did your best to keep your eyes open as you felt your orgasm rising, your eyelids heavy with the pleasure he was making you feel so perfectly. neuvillette placed his hand above your head on the desk, which rocked back and forth under the delicious torture he was inflicting on you. you arched your back when you felt the strands of his hair tickle your neck as he licked his way from your collarbones to your chin. “i-i’m gonna-..” he nibbled the skin of your jaw.

“cum ? not now, my darling.” he whispered against your soft skin. and you mewled when he let his long dragon tongue run to your lips and licked them with a single stroke. his palm withdrew from your clit and you sobbed at the loss.

he caught his thumb in his pants, which he pulled down to get his cock out, without slowing the pace of his fingers fucking your pussy walls. you suddenly startled, shaking your hips in excitement as you felt the tip of his cock slap your clit. your hands slipped over his jaw, which you grabbed to raise his face to yours, begging him with your glassy eyes to not tease you anymore. neuvillette pushed his hips towards yours, sliding his long shaft against your clit, taking care to appreciate each desperate expression on your face. one of his canines dug itself in his lower lip, making him bleed.

you were his forbidden fruit.

his arm, which was above your head, wrapped at the speed of light around your waist, arching your back like no other, while his fingers slipped out of your wet pussy, letting a large quantity of your juices run onto the desk and against him. he didn't even give you time to get ready as he slowly inserted himself inside you, savoring every sensation of your spongy walls taking him in with tenderness.

he threw his head back, grunting loudly as he felt you tighten hard around him as you came, screaming and unable to hold back anymore, he was just so freaking huge and feeling every centimeter of him entering you was too much pleasure to keep inside you. you were whining and apologizing for cuming without his permission when neuvillette finally became a part of you, inserting himself fully inside until his tip reached your g-spot, you felt so full. he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling faster as he began to thrust slowly but deeply into you, fucking you through your orgasm. he straightened up to pull his shirt over his head and your vision blurred with tears as you felt him hit your sensitive spot with each of his thrusts.

“aren’t you a pretty creature, hm ?” his voice was like a melody in your ears. “look at you, already cuming when you are just starting to take it so pretty.” soft apologies escaped your sweet mouth again and he smiled tenderly at you. “don’t apologize darling, it’s fine. i’ll never get mad at you for feeling good.” his hand slid over your belly and you blushed even more when your eyes landed on his muscular stomach, which contracted every time he plunged himself deeper into you. you let out a cracked moan as you felt the overstimulation getting you.

“neuvi-ah ! …sensitive-” you placed both hands flat on his stomach, trying to slow him down a little and he grunted deeply as he noticed your juicy breasts pressed between your arms making them even bigger than they already were.

“tell me you did that on purpose.” he grunted, grabbing your thigh to pull you even closer to him, sinking himself deeper into you. you threw your head back and whimpered mouth wide opened as you felt the tip of his cock repeatedly banging against your cervix. at this point it's like he was trying to get you pregnant. "you dressed that way on purpose to drive me crazy."

you mewled when you met his gaze again, his eyes shone with a sparkling light as his mouth was wide open to let out his gasps, his canines were large and stood proudly above your eyes. the desk creaked underneath you as he was pounding into you. the pornographic sound of heated flesh echoed upon the bathroom, and you closed your eyes in bliss savoring the warmth of his length as he was rocking inside you like he was mad at you.

“y-yes..yes…yess-” he grinned as he felt your hands scratch the skin of his abs while you were a moaning mess underneath him. “i d-did it on… fuck. purpose-” a cry louder than the others escaped your throat when you heard him murmur "i knew it." and smiled even wider. his two hands grabbed the back of your knees, bringing them towards your shoulders. this position made you blush even more, you were completely open to him and neuvillette's eyes were riveted on your breasts still trapped between your arms. the fabric of your shirt slipped from your chest with each thrust he inflicted on you, finally revealing your rosy nipples to him.

“you definitely are more flexible than i thought.” he lowered his head to look at your pussy clenching as it gushed around is cock, coating his pants in your wetness. he threw back his head with a deep groan, you were taking him so well like a princess.

your eyes fell on his wide, veiny throat and neuvillette grunted even louder as he felt you clench multiple times in a row around his cock. one of his hands left your knee to grab one of your breasts, you cried out as you felt his long nail scratch your bud. you threw your arms out to either side of yourself trying to hold on to something on the desk as he suddenly fucked you more roughly.

“look at me, darling. i need to see you.” his hair slid over your breasts as he brought his face close to yours, he rested his knee on the edge of the desk as you could see his hips rise and fall with almost inhuman speed in the mirror behind him, this man was indeed a dragon.

neuvillette grabbed your throat as he noticed you weren't reacting, a squeal escaping you as you felt the gentle pressure on your adam's apple. your tear-filled eyes met his, dark with desire. he was panting loudly near your lips as he watched you carefully, savoring each of his intrusions between your soft walls.

“will you dare to lie to me again next time ?” you shook your head and arched your back, moaning feverishly under his burning gaze as his cock slammed violently into your cervix. your eyes rolled back as the pleasure was too much for you. your mouth opened to scream as neuvillette pushed his thumb over your tongue, opening your mouth even wider. “are you gonna cum ? let’s do it together, my love.”

you nodded and he straightened up, his hands sliding up your thighs as his hips slowed, letting the tip of his cock rub languorously against the spot just above your spongy wall. your hands immediately lifted you off the desk as you screamed his name, letting tears run down your cheeks to your collarbones, your face red as your nose dripped snot, completely fucked out.

and you were about to cum so fucking hard when neuvillette suddenly pulled out his cock from your dripping walls, you suddenly saw red and punched his chest roughly as you grunted in frustration his face came up to yours and his fangs dug into your chin as he whispered to you to calm down.

“don’t be violent, beautiful flower.” he grabbed your hands and slammed you down hard on the desk as he pushed back inside you making you squirt all over him and on the floor, trembling violently beneath him. more tears rolled down your pretty cheeks as his cock were bullying your tight pussy through your orgasm and he couldn't stop himself from fucking you harder when he saw your desperate look, which made him cum inside you. he thrust hard one last time before grunting deeply into your neck as he spilled thick ropes of cum inside you painting your gummy walls.

after a few seconds, he was still inside you, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, still trying to catch your breath. his hand slipped down the small of your back and you felt his lips caress the soft skin of your neck before he straightened up, taking you with him. you wrapped your legs around his hips as you now sat on the desk.

“i can feel that something is bothering you.” he murmured, brushing a few strands of hair away from your pretty face.

“why didn’t you kiss me.” your nose brushed his as his gaze softened at your question.

“i’'ve reserved something special for the first kiss i want to give you.” his thumb caressed the skin of the small of your back and you tilted your head to the side, looking up at him, stars in your eyes.

“special ? it doesn't have to be special.” you chuckled, while neuvillette's face was deadly serious. he brought his face closer to you, his lips brushing yours dangerously as his deep gaze never left your glassy eyes.

“everything about you is so special, y/n.”

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azrielsdove · 1 month

Text

Longing Pt.2: Cassian

Warning: Violence, Suggestiveness

Pt.1 Here

***

Yelling woke you up early the next morning. You opened your eyes and took in the way the sun hadn’t even fully risen yet, the room still cast in shadow. You looked towards the cracked door, quickly discovering the source of the sounds that woke you.

Azriel and Cassian.

“Why should I let you in there? I had to give her triple dose of sleeping tea to get her asleep. Even then, she shook and cried all night! Because of you.” Azriel’s words sent a cold chill down your spine, before the heat of embarrassment took over. Oh gods. They were out there arguing about you.

“Well, maybe she needs me! I just want to help her.” Cassian is almost pleading with Azriel, his tone desperate.

Azriel scoffs. “If you truly cared about her you wouldn’t have had your tongue down someone else’s throat! I don’t know what’s going on with you Cassian, but figure it out. I’m not letting you do any more damage to her.” You shut your eyes again as you heard him walk back into the room, not wanting to discuss that you overheard some of their fight. The bed sunk down next to you and you felt light fingers brush your hair off your face, a deep sigh coming from your friend. You knew he had a fierce protectiveness over you, the sister he never had. He hurt as much as you did.

***

You would have rather stayed tucked up in your bed for the rest of your life, but Azriel was having that. “Come to training. I promise you will feel better to be out there moving again!” He pulled the warm blankets off of you, ignoring your cry of protest. “Come on. You have five minutes to get out of this bed and get dressed, or I am dragging you up there as you are.” You glared at him, crossing your arms tightly in front of you.

“I’m not going.” He crossed his arms as well, giving you the same glare you were giving him.

“It is not a choice.”

“You will not force me.”

“I will not let you waste away in this room! You will come willingly or I will drag you kicking and screaming, but you will go.” You fought hard to keep your eyes locked on his before groaning and falling backwards on your bed.

“Fine. Get out so I can change.”

***

You shivered in the cold morning air, thinking of all the ways you were going to get Azriel back for this. He had barely allowed you to get your training leathers on before barging back into your room and dragging you out to the training ring. You had no interest in being up here today, and especially had no interest in seeing Cassian all over Nesta. The rather innocent jealousy from before had turned into a vicious evil darkness, your vision going red every time you looked at them.

“I hate you.”

Azriel looked over at you, eyebrows raised. “No, you don’t.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the weapons rack, carefully selecting a gleaming blade. The sword felt sturdy in your hands, a symbol of power and strength. You usually preferred daggers, but you needed something more today. You turned to challenge Azriel, halting in your movements when it was Cassian who stood behind you.

“I’ll practice with you,” he said, not asking. You debated ramming the sword into his stupid face before you nodded begrudgingly. Fine. You supposed you couldn’t avoid him forever. You took up your defensive stance across the ring from Cassian, carefully watching his movements. You had trained under him for long enough to know his tells, unspoken warnings before he strikes.

The glint of silver through the sky was nearly imperceptible, but you met it with a quickness of your own. The blades clashed harshly, the sound making you feel a bit more alive. You loved the power fighting gave you, the raw energy that flew through your bones when you became a weapon. Cassian pulled back to strike again, aiming for your legs to make you unsteady. You jumped over his sword, enjoying his swear as your counter struck him in the arm.

The two of you battled fiercely, the unspoken anger and tension festering between you. You blocked and swung against Cassian as if he were a true enemy trying to kill you, not caring if you injured him in the process. In fact, some spilled blood may even make you feel better. You allowed your hurt to overtake you, pushing all rational through aside. You knew Azriel would yell at you for this later, for letting yourself lose control.

But you didn’t really care.

You swung strike after strike at Cassian, hardly more than a blur in the wind. You enjoyed the way your sword cut into his shin, causing him stumble backwards. You put a matching knick in his other one, watching him fall to his knees. A swift kick in the chest and you were hovering over him, your blade tucked tight against his neck as you pinned his arms with your legs. You watched a thin trickle of blood run down his neck, your sword unrelenting against his skin. You heard a faint yell of your name behind you, but you ignored it as you looked up to Cassian’s eyes.

You did not expect the fear and pain in them.

You shot off of him without a second thought, dropping your sword in horror as you stumbled back. Strong hands wrapped around your arms, pulling you towards the stairs to the House. You allowed yourself to be dragged away, gaze never leaving Cassian’s form on the ground.

***

“What the hell got into you?” Azriel seethed through his teeth, pacing in front of where you sat on your bed. You gave no answer, not even looking up from the cup of tea in your hands that had long gone cold. “You are allowed to feel whatever you need to feel about him and Nesta, but nearly killing him? Have you lost your mind?”

Perhaps you had. Maybe the shattered mating bond in your heart was poisoning your soul. Would you ever be able to handle seeing Cassian without feeling like you were being gutted? Azriel was still pacing around your room, stress radiating off of him in waves.

“Are you even listening to me?” The pacing ceased in front of you, two boots stopping in your line of vision. Azriel called your name, frustration palpable in his voice. While he may be your closest friend, Cassian remained his brother. And you had threatened his life.

“I don’t know what else to do for you. I’m going to Rhys to speak about this situation. We will see what he says.” The boots stormed out of your room, door slamming unceremoniously behind them. Rhys. You knew that should have instilled fear in you, or at least a general alarm. But you felt nothing. Maybe Rhys would demand you leave the Night Court, seek residence somewhere far away. Leave Azriel, and never see Cassian again.

You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

***

It was late in the night when Rhysand came to your room. He was alone, no brooding Azriel or gentle Feyre with him. Perhaps it would be easier to dismiss you from court with no one around.

Rhys walked slowly to your bed, eyes locked onto yours. His movements were unhurried, relaxed, as he pulled a chair over and sat next to you. A deep sigh fell from him while he scanned your face, reading what he could.

“Can you tell me what happened?” His voice was soft, but no anger lingered in it. You blinked at him, still lying in the same position you had been before he had entered.

“I tried to kill Cassian.”

You spoke bluntly. There was no point hiding it, you knew what you had done. Lost in your own despair or not, you had tried to end his life.

Rhys nodded, looking carefully over you again. “I do not think that’s quite what happened. There is more to this story, is there not? What sent you into that blind rage this morning?”

You blinked. You had been so drawn into yourself after coming back to your room you had almost forgotten. You slowly pushed yourself into a sitting position, turning your body to face Rhys. Your stare was level when you looked at him, resigned to what you were about to tell.

“Do you know what happens when a mating bond is rejected unknowingly?” Your voice was quiet, but the words seemed to ring throughout the room.

“I do not,” Rhys answered, equally as quiet.

You nodded. “It shatters the bond inside into a million tiny pieces. Sharp pieces. You go about your day being stabbed in the very soul, every movement a reminder of what was lost. It’s enough to drive one deep into insanity, if they allow it.”

“And is that what has happened with Cassian?” He kept his tone light, eyes still locked onto yours.

“Yes. I walked in on him and Nesta, and it broke. I broke.” Emotion clogged your throat, the cold fog you’ve been in all day dispersing. “I do not know what to do, Rhys.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, your body curling in on itself. Within a second he had moved to sitting next to you on the bed, wrapping his arms soothingly around you. Your head fell to his shoulder as you cried, letting out all the confusing feelings about what had happened. You had nearly killed Cassian, without even realizing it. What kind of a life could you live here without knowing if you were safe for him to be around?

***

CASSIANS POV

He paced back and forth outside her room, waiting for Rhys to come back out. He couldn’t stand the not-knowing, the endless wondering of what went so terribly wrong. He knew she had seen him with Nesta, and he knew nothing had felt right since that moment. Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed her to train with him this morning, should have given her more space.

He didn’t want space. He had finally decided that this was ridiculous, that if anyone should talk to her it should be him, when Rhys quietly exited the room. The look on his face took all the air out of Cassian’s lungs.

Something was terribly wrong.

***

He had never felt more uncomfortable sitting in his friend’s office than he did now. Rhys slowly stirred the tea in front of him, studying Cassian thoroughly. His head cocked to the side as he took him in, and Cassian had never felt more vulnerable in his life.

“You have made a grave error,” Rhys finally said, lifting his cup to his lips. Cassian’s head spun. What could he have done? He assumed now that she must have had some feelings for him, if all of this spiraled from her seeing him and Nesta. That did make him feel like a fool, as he had pined after her for decades now. The brave General of the Night Court, too scared to make a move on his friend. When the eldest Archeron was put under his instruction, he shoved his feelings down and replaced them with the mutual attraction he had felt from her. He thought she was doing the same with Azriel. How could he have read everything so wrong?

“I know,” Cassian finally replied, voice thick.

“I do not think you do. I think you have realized that all this time the two of you desired each other, yes. But I do not think you yet realize how deep that pull goes.” Rhys spoke as casually as if they were speaking of a recent training session, waiting for the words to fully hit Cassian.

Pull. He had always felt drawn to her, different than any other female he’d been interested in. He assumed it was from the years of friendship they had, nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more. It couldn’t-

Cassian sucked in a deep breath, feeling the golden string inside of him. No. It was weak, as if the other side that should pull it taught was broken. No. No. His eyes flared wide with panic as he looked at Rhys, who only nodded.

“Mates.”

Cassian ran.

***

READER POV

Rhys had instructed you to take a long, relaxing bath after he left. He had sent his favorite teas and oils up to your room, threatening that he would send a healer to do it if you wouldn’t. You would have argued if you weren’t so drained.

You had just finished with your bath, standing before your closet as you selected something to wear, when the doors to your room burst open. You gave a small scream, turning to face the assailant. You were stunned into silence to see Cassian, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped out, not moving from the doorway. You debated shoving him out and locking the doors behind him, but the tears threw you off.

“Come in. Close the doors,” you instructed, voice stronger than you had expected. He did as you said, walking to stand in front of you. You remembered then that you were clad only in a bath towel, one hand all that was holding it up around you. You opened your mouth to tell him to let you change when he dropped to his knees in front of you.

“Please,” he whispered, red-rimmed eyes looking up at you. “Please, forgive me.”

You stared down at him. At Cassian, on his knees in front of you, begging your forgiveness. While you wore only a towel. The fractured shards of the mating bond stirred inside you at the sight, the edges not quite as sharp as they were a minute prior.

“You do not need my forgiveness. You are allowed to be with who you wish, Cassian. Do not ruin your happiness for me.” You lied through your teeth. You would act as if it was no big deal, as if you didn’t feel insurmountable pain with every movement. A mating bond didn’t mean you would be endlessly happy together, and if he hadn’t felt it by now you certainly wouldn’t force him into it.

His hands reached out and grabbed ahold of your waist, holding onto you like you were his lifeline. “No. I do not wish to be with Nesta. I never did.” You shook your head.

“I will not be your second choice, Cassian. I will not let you come to me out of pity.” You spat out the last word, the broken mating bond turning deadly sharp again.

“No, no, you don’t understand,” he begged, fingers digging into your sides. “You have always been the only choice for me. I allowed male pride to get in the way, assuming you felt nothing for me. I…distracted myself with Nesta, yes. Anything between us was purely physical, a way to use each other to forget what we couldn’t have.” Tears flowed freely down his face now, a vulnerability you had never seen from him. “I didn’t feel the bond until today. I feel it, I feel it broken. I don’t want that. I want you. I’ve always wanted you.”

Your head was spinning. The broken bond inside you began stirring once more, the edges of it smooth. Forming back into a solid string at his confession. Allowing you the choice, to accept Cassian or not.

“Get up,” you said hoarsely, pulling yourself out of his grip. He hauled himself up onto his feet, towering over you. You took another step back, hoping that increasing the distance would clear your head. “This-I don’t-Cassian, why hide it?”

He shook his head, looking down at you. “Why did you?”

Why did you? The fear of rejection? That nothing would ever be the same again? You hid your feelings deep down, only to end up in a possibly worse position due to it. Cassian had done the same. You had damned each other.

He took a step closer as you took another one back, a fierce determination now in his eyes. You moved back until you hit the desk behind you, Cassian following your body with his own.

He stood directly in front of you now, every breath causing his chest to brush against yours. “Tell me what you want,” he breathed out, hand ghosting over your hip. You opened your mouth to respond but no words came. You couldn’t think with him this close to you, with the mating bond reformed in your chest. Wearing a godsdamned towel.

“I want….” you trailed off, eyes studying his. He brought his head down closer to yours, breath ghosting over your lips with his proximity. “I want…” His hand rested fully on your hip now, drawing your body tight against his.

“I’ll tell you what I want,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to your mouth. Oh, gods.

You let all rational thought leave you as you surged up and pressed your lips to his. Cassian’s other hand cupped your neck, angling you up to him. The kiss was full of all the words you couldn’t say, of all the feelings you didn’t know how to voice. You wrapped your free arm around his neck, pulling him closer against you.

“I love you,” he said against your lips, kissing you with each word. “I’ve loved you for far too long. I’ve allowed pain to come to you, when I could have had this the whole time.” He growled that last part, kisses trailing down your neck. You arched back against him, body on fire under his touch. At his confession.

“I-I love you,” you gasped out, Cassian all tongue and teeth over your bare skin. “I- Cass-Oh let me get rid of this damn towel.”

***

im sorry this took SO LONG to get out!!! i hope you guys enjoyed it, and the Azriel ending will be out soon as well <3.

#cassian x reader #cassian x you #cassian x y/n #acotar x you #acotar x y/n #acotar x reader #longing

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libertyybellls · 4 months

Text

FEMALE ROBBERY !

pairing; finnick odair x dist4!victor!f!reader

summary; meeting finnick at your capitol victor party, he is nothing short of entranced.

contains; fluff! just pure fluff, innocent- sweet, comforting, brief mentions of forced prostitution but no detail.

a/n; i was lowkey turning into anakin skywalker when i started writing about how much reader hates sand but it adds personality ok…

☾⋆｡𖦹 °✩

you were shivering, teeth practically chattering. the wide doors that led to the back of the luxurious party-mansion were wide open. your dress offered little warmth and neither did the people around you- their arrogance and bright colors offered no heat, no coziness, no reminders of home.

your wearing a corset dress- low cut, your chest on great display, you feel like the short hemmed bottomed makes you out to flash everyone at this party.

your hair has braids scattered about- your original hair texture is long gone with the amount of heat styling they’ve done on it throughout your victory tour and interviews. bows adorn the ends of each small braid that lays on your now, flat- straight hair.

the meaningless conversation, and congratulations throughout this party is enough to drive you mad. you need air- oh-so cold but nonetheless you needed more air. you’re feet are moving past people- people who grab at you, yelling praises, trying to get a passing word with you.

but you’re mind is racing, you need to sit in silence and breath.

you find a garden- you don’t have enough greenery back in your district, more ocean, too much sand, too much heat.

the sand got everywhere. you couldn’t complain about the ocean- oh, how you loved the water. but once the sand got in your hair, your shoes, your towel, your clothes- it couldn’t get out. it seemed sand would never leave you alone- president snow reminded you all too much of sand.

it felt like an infirmary sentencing, a life estimation. once the words ‘capitols doll’ left his mouth, ‘desirable’, ‘young, sweet, and pretty’ you felt sick- you’d live your life in misery until another innocent tribute would come along and take all of the heat. but you’d always be in a hotel room, in the capitol, entertaining the people like a puppet on a string.

you don’t think you’ve been warm since you heard those words, you don’t think there’s been enough air- but now, in this garden, everything seems okay.

you sit on a bench, rose bushes surrounding you, a few flowers you can name but never seen- only in books.

your hands are in your lap now, fingers playing with one another- your deep breathes began to lower your blood pressure.

until you hear footsteps nearing on the cold- crunchy grass that’s been frozen over from the weather.

he’s tall- shirtless. what stylist would do that to someone in this nippy weather? but you think your stylist would send you off to these parties naked if he had no decency, too.

he’s finnick odair. even the wind flirting your eyes can recognize that. how couldnt you? the poster boy of your district, sex symbol of panem, but you don’t comprehend any of it.

“you’ve found my spot.” he’s smirking, you can understand why people in the capitol swoon over him- not even six seconds and your body rushes with warm blood.

then you process his words, slowly scrambling to grab your clutch and rising to your feet. he puts his hand up, signaling for you to halt your movements.

“it’s nice to have company.” and so you move your bag over , allowing him more room to sit on the bench.

you don’t speak, atleast you don’t know what to say- you don’t ask questions or say something stupid. finnicks voice breaks the thick barrier of silence; “nice party they gave you.”

he’s joking, and his slight laugh makes you laugh. you’d won nearly a month ago- many sleepless nights covered with makeup and fake eyelashes. “yeah, i’m so grateful for them all.” you breathily laugh off.

the playfulness of this all is refreshing. it almost makes you long forget about your grim past and even darker impending doom.

he turns his head towards you, scanning your face- then to the rose bushes surrounding the both of you- then back to your face. “too many roses every where, i’m starting to hate the smell of them.”

you pick up on his small talk, and you almost laugh a little- he’s acting like a grade-school boy. “i’m beginning to think it possibly the ugliest thing natures created now.”

“mags told me about how mentoring you went, we were all relieved when you won.” you wince when you think about that, he knows that better then anyone here. the heart sinking feeling when your brain slips up for a second- that you don’t let yourself think to hard about, nor too long.

“thanks.” he doesn’t even know you yet, but he know that even if you don’t speak too much the ones you do vocalize have meaning, no vacancy in them. “are you cold?” you can’t help but voice your curiosity.

he looks down on himself, almost as though his body brings him guilt in a way. like he’s ashamed to own it, you’re sure you’ll understand soon.

but within seconds his guard is back up, back to the capitol darling. he simply places your hand on his shoulder, he’s forcing your body to move but in the most genuine way anyone has ever done so.

you feel your cold finger tips merge with his radiant shoulder, like a hypothermic to a heater.

finnicks aura is simply heat, not a touch of coldness. you wonder if it’s his insides pouring into his physical being. does he not have any cold feelings in his heart? is he genuine? “how are you warm right now?”

he only laughs as you try to remove your hand from him in the least awkward way you can, placing your hands back into your lap. there’s so many things you want to ask him, tell him. his soul is like a confession booth, that you’ve heard before. all the secrets he knows, all of the words only he’s been told.

“does it get better? even if you’ve been told something that doesn’t make you think it will?” he can only imagine what your last words mean, and now his heart drops. no- not someone like you? so young so unsuspecting, but weren’t they all?

“if you have someone to lean on, you’ll be okay.”

you frown at this, despite your fear of making yourself seem like a complete and utter loser to the golden boy of panem- you say; “and if i don’t?” you can’t help but think about your overworked tired parents, never home, never cared too much. your friends who you don’t see all too much.

“if you don’t,” he looks up from his lap now, eyes locked onto yours, only your eyes ever- not your exposed chest or the dress that rides up your thighs. “you have me if you’re willing, i think we’ve gotten on well.”

this makes you smile to yourself, you can’t look into his eyes any longer you think you’ll get lost. you feel like a school girl, unable to breathe around the presence of your crush. “i don’t know you all that well, finnick odair.”

he shakes his head, “haven’t you read the news, y/n l/n?” he’s mimicking your words, almost in a sing-song way.

“i don’t tend to make premeditated decisions on who someone is based on what the capitol news says. i prefer to get to know them instead.”

“well, let’s get to know eachother then.” his body turns toward you. flattening his hands onto his lap. “favorite color?”

you look at the grass before you, the stems of the flowers around you, the feeble, poor excuses of barely full bushes that line the sand before the water in district four. “green, not a dark green. something in the middle.” your eyes flick back to his, almost the perfect green you were talking about. “and you?”

“blue.” his two fingers pick up the bows at the end of your hair, you almost roll your eyes at this. too charming you could laugh.

“what are you scared of?”

he thinks about this one, taking a moment to relay his thoughts. it wasn’t death, no. he wouldn’t be scared when his time came, he would just hope the people he loves would be okay, that they’d get through it without him.

“becoming one of them.” he nods his head back to the people scuffling about in frilly dresses and skirts around the main party center. “so moral-less, so demanding. so many things i don’t want to be.”

you shake your head now, “i don’t think you could ever be one of them.” to anyone else this would be an insult, being apart of the capitol was little girls and boys dreams. to live so lavishly and carefree. but once you’ve seen it all, you just want to be by the ocean- at peace, unbothered with those who meant the most to you. “you’re much too good for that.”

finnick believes you, it’s like all he’s needed his whole life was your words that had no hint of second meaning. only pure, true, clean. “if it means anything, i know you couldn’t be anyways. no matter how many bows they put in your hair.” he laughs again, that charming chuckle that sends a butterfly to your stomach. “you have a good heart, i hope that it stays that way.”

it’s all so honest , the whole interaction. but you’ve been away from your own party far too long and you’re almost scared to upset people. “i have to go. i’ll see you around, finnick.” his name is foreign to your tongue almost, but its welcome.

finnick then stands quickly, “when will i see you again?” he almost looks worried.

“soon. we live in the same village after all.”

inspired by my favorite, @mrsnancywheeler ‘s fic

masterlist

inbox open!

#finnick odair #finnick angst #finnick fanfic #finnick fluff #finnick imagine #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick odair x reader #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick #thg finnick #hunger games finnick #finnick x oc #finnick x you #finnick x reader #finnick x y/n

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cuubism · 5 months

Text

work is driving me fucking insane this week, so here's this silly self-indulgent thing i wrote to distract myself.

the spirit of this post is here as well XD

coffee shop au, meet cute, literally falling for your crush

In retrospect, forgetting to eat for three meals in a row wasn't Dream's best move. Not that he'd done it on purpose. Hence the forgetting. But taking time to cook always felt so wasteful when he was finally making progress on his novel. He could eat later, whenever the hyperfocus burned itself out.

The only thing that eventually got him out of the house was caffeine. He'd run out of both coffee and tea in the dysfunction of this week, and thus was forced to venture out to the cafe a few blocks away from his flat in search of enough energy to keep him awake for a few more hours.

Technically, there was a place that was closer. There was also a grocery store, where he could have bought coffee grounds. But Dream took the excuse to go a bit further, and not for the quality of the coffee.

He and Johanna, on the occasion she could convince Dream to leave the house and attempt to be part of society, had first started coming to this particular coffee shop because Johanna's girlfriend Rachel worked there. But Dream had to admit that what really kept him coming back, including at times when he wasn't being dragged along by Johanna, was another employee entirely.

Hob.

Hob was, in Rachel's words, "a perfectly nice guy but I don't know why you're so obsessed with him." In Johanna's words, Hob was, "quite fit, I can't lie, but I really thought you'd have gone for someone who's a bit more of an arts gremlin like you."

In Dream's words, Hob was perfect. He always had a smile for Dream, and a kind word or compliment, and he had kind eyes, and nice hands, and was terribly handsome. Dream had never been particularly attracted to masculinity before but Hob was proving him wrong over and over. He looked like he was strong enough to pick Dream up, and that did all sorts of exciting things to Dream's insides. Dream may or may not have had an actual dream about Hob holding his hand.

Hob also made terrible coffee. But Dream didn't care. He took whatever coffee Hob made him, whether the grounds were burnt, or it had way too much cream, or was vastly overbrewed, and drank it quite happily, sneaking looks at Hob all the while. Because Hob's coffee might be awful, but he always smiled at Dream as he gave it to him, and sometimes their hands brushed and it sent a thrilling little shock up Dream's arms. And anything Hob made for him felt made with love, he could tell, it was like a homemade birthday cake with uneven frosting and an undercooked part in the middle.

It was possible Dream should care more about the quality of the coffee and less about the symbolism of it.

In any case, he went to the coffee shop, underfed and undercaffeinated, hoping that Hob would be there, even if it meant he would have to down another cup of extremely bad coffee. Hob should be there, he did usually work Tuesday afternoons, not that Dream had memorized his schedule like a stalker or anything.

He stepped inside, the little bell over the door jingling, and found that he was right, Hob was there. A thrill of delight ran through him. Dream did not often feel anything as carefree or joyous as delight, but he was very sleep-deprived, and Hob was there, so there it was. Rachel was also working, and waved to him as he stepped up to the counter. As she and Johanna were both very aware of his embarrassing crush on Hob--much to Dream's chagrin--she didn't come over to take his order, instead leaving him to Hob.

"Hey, it's Dream, right?" said Hob, wiping off his hands on a towel and leaning on the counter, looking at Dream with a smile. He knows my name, Dream thought with a heady rush, then remembered that Hob was obligated to write it on his coffee cup, and that Dream came here often, and it didn't have to mean anything. "Dark roast with almond milk and caramel?"

How Hob could be so diligent about remembering his order and so terrible at making it, Dream didn't know. "That's correct," he said.

Behind Hob, Rachel mouthed keep going, which Dream took to mean that if he wanted to get anywhere he had to attempt to engage Hob in slightly more conversation than his usual coffee-ordering script. This was unfortunately true, particularly since Hob had already nullified half the sentences Dream would usually say by predicting his order.

"You remembered my order," he said, which felt like a reasonably normal response, definitely better than do you want to see if you can pick me up? which would probably be creepy. Rachel gave him a thumbs up.

"Of course. You're quite memorable," said Hob, and winked at him. Was he flirting? Dream would like to think so, but he wasn't usually very good at picking up on that sort of thing. Why would Hob be interested in him anyway? Perhaps he meant that Dream was memorable in a bad way, that he was annoying or weird, or--

Dream still hadn't responded.

"I am not trying to be," he said, and behind Hob, Rachel sighed. It was true, though. In most areas of life Dream preferred to go unnoticed. It was only Hob's attention that made him feel all bubbly inside.

"Task failed successfully," said Hob, "because I can't stop noticing you."

Was Dream... still succeeding at the conversation? That was truly unexpected, that he hadn't already turned Hob off by being utterly unsuitable for human society.

"Is that a good thing?" Dream asked.

"Is it?" asked Hob.

Undoubtedly it was. Dream liked the thought of Hob noticing him. He liked the thought of Hob remembering his name, and his coffee order, and when he came into the cafe, with as much detail as Dream had memorized his schedule. He did not normally like having people's eyes on him but he liked the thought of Hob looking. Of Hob caring about what he saw. It made him feel interesting and worthy, and sort of giddy and lightheaded--

Oh. No. That wasn't Hob's attention. That was the fact that the last meal he'd eaten had been a sleeve of biscuits for breakfast two days ago, and that he'd been on his feet for a long time, or what constituted a long time when one had only had a sleeve of biscuits two days ago to eat. And he hadn't slept, and he'd had quite an exciting few minutes just now, and apparently this all meant that his body had decided it needed to check out for a moment, thanks, goodbye.

Inconvenient timing, Dream thought, as everything went sort of spinny and blurry. He was making such progress! He really thought Hob might even like him, and falling on the ground was not going to help his case.

Inevitable now, though. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Hob's face, expression shifting from amusement to concern, and really, there were worse ways to go out.

He woke up not much later, or at least it felt like little time had passed, to find himself lying down on a couch in what seemed to be the cafe's back office, as best as his overtaxed mind could gather. And Hob was crouched beside him, looking at him worriedly, Rachel leaning over his shoulder, face likewise creased in concern.

Dream wondered how he had gotten to the couch. Had Hob carried him there? It was a pleasant thought, though he wished he could have experienced it in person.

"You know," said Hob, "there are easier ways to get out of talking to me than blacking out." The words were light, but he sounded genuinely stressed out about it.

Dream immediately felt bad. "I'm sorry."

Hob chucked him on the cheek, a light touch that felt fond. "Not what I meant. Are you okay?"

Dream carefully pushed himself up to sitting, Hob watching all the while, hands hovering over him but not touching. Dream sat up. His head didn't spin. "I am okay," he said.

"Probably didn't eat anything today, huh?" said Rachel. She didn't look quite as concerned as Hob did, she was used to Dream's habits. Meanwhile, for all Hob knew, Dream had a brain tumor and would imminently die.

"No," Dream admitted. "I was... occupied."

"Will you be okay here for a sec?" Hob asked, brow scrunching as if he truly thought Dream might just collapse again onto the floor without him. "I'll get you some water. Something to eat, too."

It was worth fainting in a public place, Dream thought, just to have Hob look at him with such care.

When Dream nodded, Hob hurried away to do just that.

Only now his crush was going to be one million times worse, and certainly not reciprocated, not after the scene he'd caused.

Beside him, Rachel was laughing, hiding it behind her hand.

"Is my suffering humorous to you?" Dream asked, but there was no heat in it, he was too busy looking after where Hob had disappeared.

"You should have seen it," she said. "He launched himself over the counter to catch you. Oh my god, I wish you could have witnessed it."

"Surely Hob would aid any customer in distress," Dream sniffed. But something turned over in his stomach, a little flutter of hope.

"Yeah but not literally vault the counter. It was terrific. I was worried he'd break a hip."

"I'm not that old," said Hob, coming back around the corner and crouching beside Dream again, water bottle and what looked like a chocolate muffin clasped in his hands.

Rachel was unrepentant. "You're lucky you didn't wind up on the floor, too."

"You caught me," said Dream, staring into Hob's eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Rich brown, like coffee with a dash of cream.

Dream might still be a bit lightheaded.

"Of course," said Hob, and uncapped the water, handing it to him. Dream took slow sips, realizing as he did that he hadn't drank any water all day. "I'm fond of you, you know. Can't let you hit your head on the floor."

Fond. Dream might faint again.

"Should I take you to hospital or something?" Hob asked, still so concerned it was making that floaty feeling bubble up again in Dream's chest.

"I will be fine here," he said.

"He just fell for you, that's all," said Rachel, and Dream glared at her. She just smiled back. "Swooned and everything."

"I did not swoon," Dream protested.

"You kind of did, actually," said Hob. "I've never seen someone just crumple so dramatically."

"Oh, have you seen many people faint, then?"

"No, but--"

"I'm going to man the till," said Rachel, patting Dream on the arm. "I don't think I want to be in the middle of this. Let me know if you want me to take you home, Dream." She winked at him. "Unless you'd rather Hob do it."

Johanna was never this meddlesome, Dream thought bitterly. She just made fun of him and left it at that.

Then he was alone with Hob, which was both an exciting and anxiety-inducing state of affairs. He clutched his water bottle for balance.

"Um. I got you this," said Hob, and handed him the muffin. "Made them this morning."

Dream was really quite hungry, so despite Hob's poor coffee record, he took a bite of the muffin.

And this was how he learned that Hob was utterly lacking in coffee-making skills because all his talent was in baking.

The chocolate was so rich, it tasted more like cake than a muffin. the chocolate chips melted on his tongue, and he had to force himself not to just immediately take another huge bite. He really was so hungry. Perhaps, now that he knew he could get such things here, he would have a reason to visit the cafe other than just Hob -- and a reason to eat breakfast, too.

"Good?" said Hob, and Dream nodded, licking the melted chocolate from his lips, and he didn't fail to notice Hob watching the movement of his tongue. Perhaps Johanna and Rachel were right, and it wasn't hopeless, even if Dream's best attempt at flirting back was collapsing onto the floor.

He did not know what possessed him then. Perhaps it was the chocolate. Perhaps it was the worry still lingering in Hob's warm eyes, or maybe he had just hit his head and forgotten about it. Either way, he leaned forward in his seat, and kissed Hob on the lips.

His lips were so soft. Just as Dream had dreamt they would be. Hob made a sound of surprise against Dream's mouth, and caught him by the arms so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. Which was a definite possibility, though now the lightheadedness was not caused by a calorie deficit but rather because he was kissing Hob.

Hob who was kissing him back, too. Softening against his mouth, licking the remaining chocolate from Dream's lips. Would Hob hug him, too? If he had already caught him? Dream had fantasized so much about being hugged by Hob.

Only one way to find out. He leaned into Hob's arms, and Hob caught him again, wrapping his arms around Dream's back. He was so warm, and strong. He was wonderful.

"It is a good thing," he said into Hob's shoulder.

"What is?"

"You noticing me."

Hob chuckled. The sound rumbled through Dream's chest. "It's not hard to do. I've been eyeing you for a while, you know. I always hoped you'd talk to me more."

"I am not very good at talking more," said Dream.

"I think I've got that now." Hob pulled back to look at him, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled. "Falling over is more your style."

"I only faint on occasion," Dream protested, which only seemed to amuse Hob more.

"Well. If talking is a bit tough, maybe we can go for a walk sometime?" He tucked a strand of Dream's hair behind his ear, and Dream shivered. Hob clocked it, too, and let his hand rest on the back of Dream's head, fingers curled in his hair as his gaze flicked to Dream's lips and back up. "Or. Something else?"

Dream thought something else might make him spontaneously combust. That might have to wait a bit, at least until he could cope with Hob looking at him like that without feeling like he was about to explode in a flurry of butterflies.

"A walk, if you will hold my hand," he said, and Hob smiled, and took his hand, and Dream learned that all dreams really could come true at once.

#this is SO silly #hob is literally the most average guy and dream is salivating with lust and completely ferally obsessed with him #it's mutual tho dream is literally a gremlin and hob is like 😍 wow he's beautiful he's like an angel #and then they lived happily ever after #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #sex scene between these two would be funny as fuck i think hob would touch dream once and he would come instantly and maybe also faint

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 6 months

Text

You’ll Never Be A Burden

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

Summary: When you can’t get out of bed, answer your phone, or shake the feeling of hopelessness your boyfriend is there to reassure you that he will always be there for you no matter what. WK: 1.6k moodboard

Warnings: Talk of mental illness, depression, feeling unloved/unworthy of love, not being able to get out of bed, insomnia, food mention, hurt/comfort, Eddie being the sweetest sweetie. Just all around this is centered around mental illness and how it feels to be too depressed to get out of bed. Please let me know if I missed any. Also I wrote this in one sitting so there’s probably typos. 18+MDNI

A/N: I don’t specifically mention a certain mental illness but for me this is how it feels when I’m having a BPD episode. So for me this symbolizes borderline depression but it can apply to any type of depression or mental low. I’ve been really going through it lately, so I just harnessed how I feel into writing this and it was very therapeutic. I wish Eddie could come hold me.

You weren’t sure how long you’ve been laying in bed in between awake and asleep at this point. A few hours? A day? Two? All you know is that the clock on your nightstand reads 2:48AM and you have been trying to force your brain to shut off since it read 8PM. You tried everything to calm the war raging inside your mind. You took so many deep breaths at this point you lost count, you pulled all the blankets over your head and tightened your body into the smallest ball you possibly could, you rocked back and forth while you repeated your mantra of “you’re okay” to yourself over and over again. But no matter what you did you couldn’t stop the negative thoughts from swimming around inside you.

You hated when you got like this. Overcome by this feeling of hopelessness. The feeling of shame. Loneliness. Not being able to shake the feeling as if you’re a burden to everyone around you. So you isolate yourself. Not wanting to drag anyone down with your negativity, not wanting to lash out at the people who are just trying to help you, not being able to bear the feeling of being alone in a room full of people.

Your friends had all texted and called you, social media notifications and voicemails piling up. Not even being able to muster up the energy to pick up the phone and respond to the one person you knew would make you feel better. So instead you thought of him. The way his beautiful eyes lit up when a smile spread across his lips. The way it felt to have his arms around you, his smell, his soothing voice. It’s what kept you going on days like this. Him.

Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone. To ask him to come hold you. You were embarrassed, embarrassed of the disaster your house has become, embarrassed of your unbrushed teeth and messy hair, the pajama pants that felt like they were stuck to your body. You didn’t want him to see you like this. He’s only ever seen you like this once, and he was amazing, perfect even. But to this day you beat yourself up over those days he took care of you, washed you, held you while you sobbed, read to you in exaggerated voices until you dozed off with your head in his lap and his fingers in your hair.

You know he wouldn’t mind, that he was happy to help you, be there for you. But you were so scared of him seeing you differently and changing his mind about you. You were terrified that if he saw the real you, truly, that he would leave. You’d become too much, too little, never the right amount, just like you always did.

That’s why when you heard a knock on your door your heart race picked up, you felt your skin flush, because you knew it was him. You knew he’d come, you knew he’d be worried and you can’t decide if worrying him to the point that he showed up at your door or just texting him back was worse. You heard him knock lightly on the door a few more times before you heard the key you had given him turning the lock.

“Baby? Are you here? I just came to check on you… haven’t heard from you since yesterday morning and I was starting to worry.”

His voice became louder as he talked, his footsteps padding down the hall to your bedroom door. Your head was still shoved under your blankets so you didn’t see him but you heard the knob turn and the door swing open.

“Sweetheart…”

Eddie’s heart nearly shattered when he opened your bedroom door. Your room was trashed, the black out curtains drawn blocking out the moonlight, and even your fairy lights you always had on, even in the night, were shut off. He couldn’t see you, but he could see the outline of you and hear your breathing. He walks over to your bed and sits on the side next to the lump of blankets you’ve buried yourself in. His hand comes up and runs along your side and it causes you to jump.

“Baby… please let me help you? Let me take care of you. I know you’re scared of being a burden but you’re never a burden to me.” He continued to run his hand up and down your body, the feeling already causing your body to subconsciously relax just the tiniest bit. “Can you come out? Please? I wanna see my girl.”

“I look horrible Eddie… I don’t want you to see me like this.” You pull the blanket tighter against you, shutting him out no matter how loud your body screamed at you to just throw yourself into his arms.

“I’ve seen you wasted, vomiting your guts out in Harrington’s bathtub, it can’t be much worse than that baby. Come oooonnnnn pleeeseee. I’m not above begging.”

He chuckles, his hand squeezing your hip lightly before it resumes caressing you. You sigh, pulling the blanket back just enough to peak your eyes out and him and your heart swells. He’s so beautiful, just the sight of him made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Just being near him made you feel just a little bit more alive. He pushes the blanket the rest of the way off your head, smoothing your hair out of your face.

“There’s my beautiful girl. Hi baby.”

He cups your face in his hand, running his thumb along your sweaty cheek, not caring if you think you look awful, you’re always gorgeous to him. Even like this. Especially like this. Raw and real. He wants you to feel safe with him when you’re in this low place. He wants to sink down to your level and pull you back up with his hand in yours. Eddie would do anything for you. He knows that scares you, he knows you want to believe him but it’s hard to fight the feeling that he’s going to abandon you. But he will do whatever it takes to prove you wrong. To prove that he isn’t like everyone else. To prove that he will stay.

“Hi.” Your voice comes out a scratchy and whiney and it makes you even more embarrassed than you already are. “I’m sorry.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for sweetheart. I’m here for you, always. I brought your favorite snacks, bubbles, and your favorite teddy bear, me. Come here, let me hold you.”

He pushes the blanket back further and you shiver when the cool air of your room hits your body. He holds his arms out to you and your whole body tingles. He’s here for you. He wants to be here for you, and even though that terrifies you, the soft look on his face makes you feel safe. He makes you feel safe. You push yourself up and he grabs you by the forearms pulling you into his lap and cradling you like a small child.

As soon as his arms are around you the floodgates open, sobs leaving your entire body shaking while your tears soak Eddie’s t-shirt. He doesn’t say anything for a while, just holds you while you cry, running his hands through your tangled hair, caressing your skin under your oversized shirt, kissing on your tear stained cheeks. After a while your sobs turn to small cries before they finally stop.

“It’s okay baby girl, you’re okay. I’m here for you, okay? Let me run us a nice bath, afterwards you can eat something, only if you want, if not that’s okay, I just want you to drink some water for me okay?”

“Okay Eddie… thank you, I-“

“Shh, you don’t have to thank me and you don't need to apologize, I’m your boyfriend and I love you, let me be here for you.” He smiles sweetly at you, rubbing the remaining tears from your cheeks and gathering you in his arms.

Eddie spends the night making good on his promises. He pampers you in the bath, washing you and brushing your hair, even putting lotion on your skin afterwards. He puts your comfort movie on tv in the living room so you can lay on the couch while he makes your safe meal. He doesn’t push you to talk, he knows you will when you’re ready. He holds you and tells you he loves you while he makes commentary on your favorite movie. When you finally start to feel sleep creeping up on you he ushers you back to your bed, the sheets now changed because he insisted it wasn’t a big deal. He holds you tight, and kisses you over and over again. He even gets you to giggle and pulls a genuine smile out of you a few times.

As you lay there in the love of your life’s arms you feel less hopeless. You feel less alone. You feel your body start to warm inside from the tips of your toes all the way to your nose as he places a gentle kiss on it. You feel safe. You regret not calling him sooner but the fact that he came without you even asking makes it even more special to you. Your mind can tell you he doesn’t care all it wants, because he’s always there to tell you he does.

“I love you angel, get some rest, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up. I’ll always be here.”

“I love you Eddie. I know you told me not to thank you, but thank you, for being here for me. For being you.” You nuzzle your face into his neck, placing a gentle kiss there before you doze off into a peaceful sleep. In the arms of someone you know loves you.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #Eddie Munson x fem reader #Eddie Munson one shot #Eddie Munson fanfiction

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closets-closet · 1 month

Note

THIS COULD WORK WITH EITHER PRICE OR GHOST AND I LOVE BOTH SO MUCH SOO U PICK 😖

141 finding out on accident that ghost/price is married?!?! BEEN married. They bug him to introduce them to the missus, and he finally does it so they leave him alone, he takes them to his house made a home by the sweet bundle of light, shes a absolute darling, gorgeous thing. They’re kinda shocked how he pulled that

IM MELTINGGHFBDBSBZK

I LOVE THIS, could you imagine the chaos on base when Johnny or Kyle finds out about this mystery woman. Because we know damn well Simon pulled a drop dead gorgeous wife. Anywhosie here’s my take on this amazing prompt.

“Simon Pleaseeeee” Johnny trails out his arms dramatically spread out infront of him. It was just recently Price slipped up and revealed to the team that Simon was married and has a Missus at home, and that’s all it took for Johnny and Kyle to lose their minds. “Simon” Kyle dead pans “Why won’t you let us see the lady” Simon huffs, before looking at both of them, frustration bubbling in his chest. “Not happening mate, work and personal life stay separate.” He grumbles one more time before pushing out of his seat, slinging his duffle bag over his shoulder and making his way to the door. “Now if you don’t mind, i’ve got my lady waitin’ for me at home.”

“Dove?” You hear your husband call from the front door of your shared home “I’m back” You appear from around the door way to the kitchen, apron tied around your waist and hair up “Welcome home” You smile “I’ve almost finished dinner for you” He walks into the kitchen immediately circling your waist with his hands burring his face in your neck “I’m conflicted” He admits quietly as he takes you in “The boys want to meet you, but I don’t want them to know how lucky i’ve gotten.” You sigh gently hooking your fingers under the black balaclava that covers his face, slowly pulling it off. “It’s your choice, but I don’t mind having them come by, I’ll make them dinner and everything” You hand brushes over his cheek before planing a small kiss across his lips. “Okay then” He whispers leaving into a little bit more “We’ll have them over”

“Finally” Johnny cheers excitedly as they walk up the drive to your shared home, a modest one story at the end of a small residential street. “Got you a quaint little place here” Price comments as they stand at the door, the smell of food wafting out from behind it. “Come on in fellas” Simon says as he pushes open the front door.

“Hello everyone” you greet, voice floating towards them. “It’s so nice to finally meet you all, Si happens to talk about you guys a whole bunch.” The smile you gives them melts the boys all to puddles. “Please come in, make yourself at home” you step aside letting them all in.

“Beautiful home you’ve got here ma’am” Kyle says stepping further into the house that’s littered with framed pictures of you and Simon together. “L.T never told me you clean up so well” Johnny teases as he examines a wedding photos that hangs over the kitchen bar. Simon moves to stand behind you, hands resting on your waist gently. Price moves to stand infront of you extending his hand “John Price” He introduces, You meet his hand shaking it firmly “Thank you for keeping him safe” You respond giving him a warm smile that melts him. “How long ye been married” Johnny pipes up from the living room where he’s petting yours and Simon’s cat. “About 3 years” you question out trying to remember exact dates. Simon lets out a long sigh, a symbol this is going to be a long night for him.

It’s about 23:30 when the boys leave. “That wasn’t so bad” You sigh taking a seat next to Simon on the couch, wine glass pinched between your fingers “They’re good kids” You mention snuggling close to your husband. “They are” He admits looking down at you, the smell of the whisky he’s drinking flooding your nose “Should have em around more often” you say looking to him “They make you smile in a way I don’t see to often” He looks to you smiling gently “I guess they do” He whispers getting closer to you pressing a small kiss to your lips.

I should be his wife *SIGH*

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cxptain-capsicle · 3 months

Text

Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | II

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn flashbacks, established relationship present day, Gods being terrible parents

A/N: If you are new around here I love taking suggestions and incorporating your guy's ideas and headcannons in my series so feel free to leave thoughts in my inbox!

Series Masterlist Taglist

“So all of the major 12 gods have their own cabin where their children live. Children from one cabin can’t go into another god's cabin.” Luke explained as he walked you down the aisle of houses. “This one is ours.”

“Ours?” You raised your eyebrow questionably.

“All the new arrivals stay here, in the Hermes cabin.” Luke gestured towards a cabin that was much larger than all of the others. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the ones around it but it felt warm and welcoming. It looked like a simple log cabin with a large front porch held by tall log columns. On the front of the house was a large green banner with a Greek symbol in the center. Over the door a semi-circle stained glass window that reminded you of the ones in the Big House. The cabin looked a little run down but that wasn’t shocking considering the amount of kids running around inside. Walking inside felt like entering a circus tent. There was yelling, laughing, singing, kids running around, hanging upside down from bunk beds. Even with the chaos it still felt cozy. The inside was dimly lantern lit, the walls were paneled with dark wood, in the center was a large fire pit that made the whole room feel like a warm hug. You followed Luke further into the cabin as several heads turned to look at the new arrival.

“Here,” Luke said as he led you to a bed and dropped the few things that you had on the bed. “This one was mine, now it’s yours.”

“You’re giving me your bed?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. “I’ll move to the top bunk, it’ll be nice to have a change.” He was humble. He was willing to give you one of the only things that was his and he didn’t want any praise for it.

“Thank you.” You meant it, and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Everyone!” Chiron announced as he trotted into the cabin doors. “Your attention, please. This is Percy Jackson. I trust you will see to whatever he needs.” Everyone stared at the sandy-haired boy awkwardly. Everyone in the Hermes cabin was used to this by now. New kid comes in, new kid gets claimed, new kid leaves, and the cycle continues. Within seconds everyone went back to their conversations although many of those conversations now included the word: Minotaur.

You and Luke glanced at each other unsure if you should say anything to the boy.

“He shouldn’t be alone.” You whispered to him. “Grover said the Minotaur killed his mom.”

You followed Luke as he made his way to the boy, who sat up quickly when we approached.

“Look, if you want to give me a hard time, just do it tomorrow.” He said before either Luke or you could get a word out. “I can't do any more today.”

“Heard what happened to you on the hill.” Luke said slowly, arms crossed over his chest. “And I just... wanted to say I'm really sorry.”

“I know what you're going through.” You chimed in. “Believe me, I really do.”

“I'm Luke.” He reached out to shake the boy's hand.

“Percy.” He hesitantly grabbed Luke’s hand.

“Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. He reminded you so much of yourself when you first came to camp so many years ago.

“Rise and shine!” Luke’s voice boomed above you. You groaned and turned away from him in an attempt at protest.

“Five more minutes.” Luke chuckled at your words but he didn’t take it for an answer.

“C’mon.” He ripped the blanket off of the bed. “First day at camp, gotta make it count.”

“Luke!” You shouted, the cold air shocking your body. “Do you make it a habit to torture the new campers?” You groaned as you rolled out of bed and began to put your shoes on. Luke was already geared up and ready to go, twitching with excitement.

“Only the ones who make it easy.” He smirked.

“Screw you.” You reached to grab your pillow and threw it at his face. It caught him by surprise causing him to stumble back, making both of you laugh.

“Maybe you’re an Ares kid?” He faked injury dramatically. “We’ll find out today.”

“What?” That piqued your interest. Ever since you arrived at camp yesterday you couldn’t stop thinking about getting claimed.

“We’re gonna figure out what you’re good at. Maybe that’ll help us figure out who your parent is.” Luke explained.

“Where do we start?” You stood up with excitement.

“Breakfast.”

The two of you made your way to the mess hall, it was much more crowded this morning than it was the previous day. Each of the tables were nearly full with kids chatting over breakfast.

“So what’s your story?” You asked Luke as you sat down with your breakfast.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled slightly.

“Your story.” You repeated. “How’d you get here?”

“Well,” He sighed. “I’ve been here for 3 summers.” He pulled at the necklace around his neck with three colored beads strung on the brown cord. “I came here with Annabeth, an Athena kid.”

He gestured over to a girl a few years younger than you sitting at the Athena table. “And Thalia, she uh- she didn’t make it.”

“Oh,” Your voice trailed off. “I’m sorry Luke.”

“Thalia died getting us to camp safely.” He continued. “She died a hero.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. “Then I got here, got claimed by Hermes.” Even mentioning his father seemed to send chills down his back.

“What happens if I don’t get claimed?” The thought had crossed your mind more than a few times.

“Well,” Luke shifted in his seat. “It doesn’t happen too often but, you’d stay in the Hermes cabin. That’s where all the unclaimed kids stay.”

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll need to move beds because you snored above me all night.” You teased.

“Oh no way I’ll just follow you wherever you go.” He said as he took a big bite of his breakfast. “So who are we looking for, a mom or a dad?”

“I’m not sure.” You said through a bit of toast. “I was left at a firehouse as a baby so I have no idea who my mortal parent is either.”

“So where did you live?” Luke leaned onto his elbow on the table in interest.

“Foster families, group homes, things like that.” You explained. “Until monsters would trash them and I’d get blamed for it and get moved.”

“Well, we can’t rule out any god but we’ll start out with the olympians. We’ve got a lot of work to do,”

After breakfast Luke led you all around camp. He took you to Arts and Crafts and sat you down at an empty sheet of canvas and easel with a bowl of miscellaneous fruit in front of it. Luke went around to the front of the easel and knocked the bowl onto the floor.

“I have a better subject for your painting.” He stood in front of you, placed his hands on his hips and looked to the side triumphantly. The pose of a hero. You laughed at him and did your best to capture him on the canvas. You tried to take your time but Luke quickly started complaining that his arms were hurting and urged you to hurry. The top half of the painting was pretty good, you could tell it was Luke, you even captured his smug smirk which made you smile. As you went down the painting got more rushed and sloppy but you blamed Luke for that.

“Tada.” You said enthusiastically as you took the canvas off the easel and turned it around to show him. He came up quickly to grab it.

“You didn’t fully capture my good looks, but other than that it’s pretty good.” He shrugged and you laughed and smacked his shoulder with a paintbrush. “So maybe an Apollo kid.” He took the canvas from you and rolled it up, saving it for later in his bag.

Luke continued to lead you around camp trying everything he could think of. He took you to the forge and quickly decided you were likely not a Hephaestus kid after you struggled to even make a dent in the hot metal. He took you to the archery range and despite never holding a bow before, you weren’t too bad. Artemis could be a maybe. He took you to a little training obstacle course by the arena designed to test speed and agility. You did your best but got hit by multiple bags of sand that were built to resemble flying harpies. So Hermes is a no. “Well, we’re definitely not siblings.” Luke laughed as you got hit by a sandbag that toppled you over. For whatever reason that felt very relieving to you. He took you to the strawberry fields where you propagated a few berries. Possibly Demeter. Finally Luke wanted to test your swordsmanship. You were excited for this. Only being here a day and a half you had already heard of Luke’s skills with a sword. Having been on the run from monsters basically your whole life you had gotten pretty good at fighting,

“We’ll get some swords and go to the woods to practice.” Luke told you on the way to the armory.

“Why are we going to the woods?” You questioned.

“So I don’t embarrass you in front of everyone when I beat you.” He smiled widely.

“I hate you-” You laughed but were cut off by someone yelling from up the hill.

“New girl!” Another girl shouted. As you kept walking closer she became easier to see. She was dressed in full greek armor and wore a helmet with a bright red crest. When she took off the helmet her dark curly hair slipped out and gave you a better look at her face.

“Her name is Y/n,” You swore Luke was scowling. “Play nice.”

“Am I not allowed to meet the girl we almost died trying to find?” She faked offense.

“You were in the cave.” You remembered. “You thought I was dead.”

“You looked dead.” She shrugged. “So what are you two doing out here?”“Y/n’s gonna try her hand at some combat.” Luke explained.

“Perfect.” Clarisse said menacingly. She grabbed a chestplate off the rack and held it out to you. “I’ll take the first round.”

“Clarisse, I don’t think-” Luke started but you cut him off.

“Let’s do it.” You eagerly took the chestplate and a sword off of the wall. Something about Clarisse invigorated you. Luke looked at you wearily but figured he was quick enough to stop Clarisse before she killed you. You and Clarisse were stationed about 6 feet away from each other, you armed with a sword and her with a spear. Before you even realized you’d begun she stormed forward, her spear pointed towards you. You took a step to the side to avoid being impaled and she quickly redirected the tip of her spear to follow you but you went under the head of the spear with your sword blade, sending the tip of her spear towards the sky. You took a swipe at her with your sword but she quickly deflected. While you were recovering from your failed attack she slashed the head of her spear down. You stepped back to avoid the spear hitting your face but the tip of the spearhead tore into your shoulder causing you to whine in pain.

“Y/n!” Luke cried out and he began to run to your side but you held out your hand telling him to stop. Your face flushed hot with anger. You weren’t mad at Clarisse, it was a fight and people get hurt. You had always been easy to set off especially in competition.

“It’s just a cut,” You stared Clarisse down. “Let’s keep going.”

“I like this girl.” She laughed before rushing forward again with a giddy smile before taking a stab at you. You took one hand off of your sword and grabbed the shaft of the spear as tightly as you could. She pulled and pulled but couldn’t get the spear free from your grasp. You picked your foot up and landed a hard kick in her stomach sending both of you flying backwards. Despite your best efforts you lost grip on your sword but went down with the spear. You both stumbled to your feet and when you did were both met with a blade under your chins. You with her spear and her with your sword. A draw. She laughed and lowered the sword and you did the same.

“Good to know we didn’t risk our lives for someone completely useless.” You thought that was a compliment coming from Clarisse.

“Let me see your arm.” Luke panicked as he rushed over to you. He grabbed your arm and began examining the cut on your shoulder. The cloth of your Camp Half-Blood was torn and the gash was bleeding much more than you had realized. “Let’s get you to the big house.”

The entire walk to the big house Luke muttered under his breath how it was so stupid to fight Clarisse and it wasn’t until after a few of the Apollo kids treated your wound he admitted that he was impressed. Saying that of course you still couldn’t compare to his sword skills.

I would love to hear feedback! <3

Taglist: @fudosl @lenasvoid

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo series #luke x reader #percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #luke pjo #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo

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