#field mouse reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stellamarielu · 14 days ago

Text

rusty

jack abbot x female reader

summary: after a dry spell in his sex life, jack would’ve never imagined the next women he’d have naked in his bed would be his favorite first year resident.

content: nsfw, 18+, mdni, resident!reader, touch starved!jack, established relationship, a little bit of fluff smushed in there, but mostly smut, jack being nervous to have sex for the first time in years, but then ofc something in him snaps and he gets a little freaky with it, jack uses the nickname kid for the reader (1) time, also uses the nickname sweetheart, fingering, handjob (if you blink you’ll miss it), p in v sex, dirty talk, condom use and the crowd boos (sorry had to keep it realistic! if i’m having sex with someone for the first time and they’re not wrapping it….questionable)

word count: 4.5k

author’s note: wanted to write something about big tough jack abbot being a little nervy to see you naked but i also wanted to write something about him having an inappropriate relationship with his resident…. so alas this was born. enjoy!

“I haven’t done this in a while.”

The words stumble from Jack’s lips in an exasperated sigh. They nearly get lost between kisses, the confession hidden amidst the steamy exchange as your bodies barrel through his front door.

Reaching up to thread your fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, your forearms rest on his shoulders to steady yourself as he maneuvers you into his bedroom.

You don’t reply to his admission, just smile into the kiss as your hands trail down his torso finding the hem of his shirt. Your fingertips carefully tracing his skin underneath the material.

He wanted to tell you it had been years since he’d been with a woman like this— wanted to apologize in advance for being a bit rusty, but the light touch of your hands exploring the skin just above the waistband of his jeans, had him losing his previous train of thought.

He couldn’t think about how long it’d been since he’d brought a woman back to his place, couldn’t even think about how insanely wrong it was to be kissing you in his bedroom.

With that being said, he should be proud of himself for holding out this long.

It had been months of having you on his shift.

Week after week of watching you prance around the ER with that cute little smile on your face, following every last one of his orders. Always meeting his sarcastic remarks with witty comments of your own, the two of you working effortlessly together like there was some sort of magnetic field between you that pulled him to every case you worked on.

It was so innocent at first, shared inside jokes and granola bars in the breakroom. Him giving you a hard time for your absurd coffee intake through the night, making comments about how the quad shot of espresso you walked in with was going to send you into cardiac arrest.

But then, there was the time he put his hand on your lower back to squeeze behind you at the triage desk. The second his touch met the polyester of your scrubs, applying just enough pressure to seep through the thin fabric, your head turned in his direction.

You didn’t mean to look at him, but you couldn’t help it. His fingers stayed splayed out on your back for one second too long, and your eyes shot to his, the electric current running through your body impossible to ignore.

A sudden tension emerged in the small space between you, his stare raking down your body to where his hand sat just above your waist, taking his time trailing them back up with a knowing smirk on his lips.

The moment was fleeting but it played out in slow motion before his hand was gone and he was breezing past you into the trauma bay.

After that it became a game of cat and mouse, both of you sensing a pull of desire toward the other but almost too afraid to do anything about it.

For Jack, it was because you were his intern, just a first-year resident looking to him for guidance and education. His apprentice. It felt wrong to look at you in any other way. He wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he took advantage of the obvious power imbalance at play in the situation.

Not to mention he was off his game.

He had no problem coming across abundantly confident at work, but as far as dating went, Jack hadn’t waded into those waters for years. There was a part of him that gave up on his love life. Maybe that’s why he threw himself into work, to avoid the loneliness that found him in his lack of companionship.

You could sense his apprehension.

The way he would subtly flirt with you and then walk away from the conversation like nothing happened. He was trying to avoid the guilt of getting too familiar, but it left you confused about his intentions.

It wasn’t until one morning that you decided to rip off the band aid entirely, asking him to join you for breakfast after your shift.

It was a simple invitation, one that could’ve been strictly friendly, but the way he smiled when you asked, looking around to see if anyone else heard, told you it was the start of something else entirely.

And it was.

The two of you went to breakfast, talking for hours in a corner booth, over a stack of pancakes and a few slices of bacon.

It was the first time you saw each other outside of the hospital.

Everyone else in that restaurant could recognize the two of you for what you were; happy. Finding joy in each other’s presence through constant laughs and affectionate smiles. But Jack couldn’t see it that way— couldn’t shake the conflicting feelings of guilt.

It wasn’t until you reached over him to dip your bacon in a pool of syrup on his plate that he finally relaxed. He soaked it in, sitting with you like that, because when the nagging thoughts of how inappropriate it all was began to cloud his mind, the gentle touch of your hand brushing his thigh chased them away. Your fingertips curled just above his knee as you continued telling him a story, the hold making him forget why he was even worried about saying yes to your invitation in the first place.

That was the first time he crossed a boundary with you. Allowing himself to get lost in your voice, hidden away in some diner down the street from the hospital. But it didn’t stop there.

The next time was when he walked you home after work, only three days after your shared breakfast date.

He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but you parted ways outside the sliding hospital doors and he watched as you walked down the street, all by yourself.

For a split second he could imagine what his frame would look like walking next to you, and so he followed, catching up to your stride with satisfaction running through his veins at your surprised smile to see him standing at your shoulder. You lived in an apartment building a block away, he knew because you mentioned it one time, and even though his leg was killing him after such a brutal shift, he walked next to you all the way to the front door of your complex.

Your bodies lingered on the sidewalk, palpable tension bouncing between them through prolonged goodbyes.

That was the first time your gaze fell to his lips.

The curiously hopeful look in your eyes made his mouth go completely dry, because Surely you weren’t going to kiss him in broad daylight… right? The world spun around him while your eyes stayed fixed on the straight line of his mouth, until they fluttered back up, meeting his line of sight and smiling brightly.

“Goodnight Jack.” Your hand met his bicep, squeezing lightly as you turned to walk into the building with a small wave.

Goodnight, even though it was nearly eight in the morning.

It was something you said to everyone after each shift, bidding your coworkers a good stretch of sleep, knowing you all shared a fucked-up sleep schedule due to working the night shift.

Jack found the greeting endearing. Smiling wide every time he heard the sing-song chime of your voice wishing everyone a restful day before leaving work in the morning.

His days were hardly restful though, he never got much sleep when he went home, because you were always on his mind.

After that day in front of your apartment building, he went out of his way to walk you home nearly every morning, if only for a few extra minutes of hearing your voice, and a small hope that you would look at his lips like that again.

When you finally did kiss him, it was well worth the wait.

It happened on the roof.

An especially hard night landed you outside for some fresh air, overlooking the city as you tried your best to clear your mind.

Jack came up to check on you.

Avoiding him entirely, your apathetic stare stayed plastered on the lights of the city. He stood next to you in silence for a while before placing a gentle hand of reassurance on your cheek, bringing your gaze to his and searching your eyes to make sure you were okay.

It was emotionally charged, the way you crashed your lips into his.

He held your face delicately in his hands, using his jaw to dive into the kiss, hungry and sloppy and undeniably passionate.

More than anything he wanted to explore every inch of you— to let his hands travel your entire body, but instead his palms stayed strictly on your face, careful not to push things too far.

In fact, weeks of suppression followed while Jack tried to respect the unknown undercurrents of your relationship.

A few more kisses were shared, even some heated make out sessions and heavy petting in the on-call room at work, but nothing more.

He’d be lying if he said his trepidation wasn’t slightly due to the rather lengthy sexual hiatus taking place in his life. But he could only deny his urges for so long, and this morning after breakfast, instead of walking you back to your apartment, he invited you over to his place for the first time.

An unspoken agreement hung in the air the whole way home, one laced with heavy sexual tension.

That’s what landed you here— barely two feet past the threshold of his bedroom door with your hands dangerously close to the waistband of his pants, and Jack couldn’t dare to think straight.

The only thoughts he could muster revolved around how much he fucking liked you. This other worldly figure standing before him, toying with the ties on his pants, fingertips brushing his abdomen and fuck- he was on another planet. Your touch was sending a vaguely familiar heat rushing through his body and he wanted more— needed it.

Something about the situation sent him on a power trip. His cock pushing against the lose restraint of his scrubs at the sudden realization that he finally had you right where he wanted you after all this time. Months of getting to know each other and countless dates ending in polite kisses and lingering goodbyes— all of it leading to this moment with his fingertips curling into your waist.

But there was still a little sliver of him that felt nervous, slightly unsure of venturing into unknown territory with you.

He was still trying to convince himself that you were genuinely interested in him, because when he looked at you he saw this beautiful woman, all radiant and self-assured, on the arm of some guy nearly twice her age who rarely smiled and always had a grumpy wise-ass remark on his tongue.

His hands went rigid at the thought, the doubts taking him out of the moment for a few seconds, and you could sense the uneasiness in his touch.

Pulling away from the kiss, you watched his expression, his lips parted to make way for fast shallow breaths as he stared back at you, his eyes hooded with desire but swimming with hesitation.

“We don’t have to do anything Jack.” Your words were sincere as you continued looking for any sign of regret in the hazel of his eyes.

“No, I want this.” His brows furrowed as the winded confession fell from his lips. His hands grasped at your hips, holding firm while his thumbs rubbed into your sides.

“You sure?” Voice changing slightly, you moved into a more playful state, fingers coming to the tie on his pants as you kept your eyes trained on his face.

“We could just talk.”

A playful whisper slid between your lips as you undid the drawstring between your fingertips.

“Or maybe watch a movie.”

Then, your hand slid into the waistband of his underwear, only a few inches, just enough to make his breath hitch.

He tried to cover his surprise at your touch, now dangerously close to the base of his cock. Mustering enough self-control to speak, his words come out calm and collected despite the dizzying effect of your hand down his pants.

“You’re funny, kid. You know that?”

Kid.

A nickname he'd been calling you since the day you were assigned to his shift.

You were just an intern; young, hungry, and passionate. Had he known you’d end up with your hands halfway down his pants in the middle of his bedroom, he might've opted for a different title of endearment.

“Seriously Jack, we can take things slow-“

A low chuckle interrupts your attempt to comfort him, trying to give him a chance to back out.

He guides you back to sit on the edge of his bed, smirking and shaking his head from side to side.

“Stop talking.” The words are rushed. A deep rasp from his lips as he leans in to kiss you, pushing your body until your back meets his mattress.

“I don’t think you realize how long I’ve thought about this.” It was apparent that Jack was hungry— starving even— to see more of you. His hands working quickly to get your pants down your legs and onto his bedroom floor.

“And what do you think about Jack?” He’d never heard that tone in your voice before, low and sultry while you leaned up on your elbows to look at him through your lashes.

“Jesus- I’ve thought about having you on my bed like this,” There was nothing subtle about the way his eyes scraped over your as he paused between words. Eyes drifting to your lower half, legs parted slightly, a pair of black panties acting as the only barrier between his eyes and your naked body. “all spread out for me like this.”

At his words, your legs open further, sending a muffled growl straight to Jack’s closed mouth as he lets his hand fall on your inner thigh. Trailing upwards, his fingertips come in contact with the hem of your underwear.

“Can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about pulling you into the on-call room after our shift.” He’s leaning above you, eyes glued to your clothed core, fingers toying with the thin material of your panties at the inside of your thighs.

“How badly I’ve wanted to fuck you on one of those shitty beds, or maybe even against the wall…”

“But you deserve better. To be treated right, on a real bed.” Suddenly the smooth linen of his comforter feels much warmer beneath you, your hands splaying over the pillowy fabric at your palms.

Jack watches the way your shoulders relax, and your head falls an inch to the side at his words, your body melting into the moment of shared desire.

“Want to take my time with you. Make you feel good. Watch you fall apart.” He leans in to kiss you, right as one of his fingertip’s dip below the fabric of your panties to run along your slit. You gasp into the kiss, and he takes the opportunity to pull away.

“To hear the little noises you make for me.” His lips are only inches from yours as his breathless whisper fills the space between them. His hand fully pushes your panties to the side, his touch light as a feather, and lingering at your core.

“Bet you sound so pretty when you cum.”

Your mouth falls open and you’re not sure what triggered it, his words, or the way he pushes a single finger into you. The movement is slow and precise as he watches your eyes flutter in pleasure.

For someone who’s sex life was currently non-existent, Jack didn’t miss a beat when it came to the rhythm of your gratification. The moan dripping from your tongue coming right on cue as he slips another finger in with the first, stroking with purpose and dedication as his name comes floating from your lips.

“Jack.”

The word was foggy and desperate as his touch subdued you, his fingers curling at the sweet call of his name, hooking at just the right spot.

“Fuck that’s it.” A whine of pleasure rippled through you at the pressure of his fingers against your walls. With one stroke after another, the building tension in your abdomen threatened to overflow.

Jack’s stare falls on his fingers as they work you open.

He can hardly handle how responsive you are to his touch; your hips bucking into his palm, little pleas falling from your lips— It’s enough to make him cum right there in his damn pants.

“God- you sound gorgeous.” The compliment is almost primal, his voice nearing a growl as he looks down at your body writhing on the simple motion of his fingers inside you, a slave to his touch.

He lets himself get lost in the noises flowing from your mouth, allowing each moan to act as a signal, showing him exactly where and how you want him.

“Even better than I could’ve imagined.” He finishes his thought and brings his stare back to yours, the fucked-out expression in your eyes telling him just how close you are.

His words send you reeling, acting as a catalyst for the strain pulling in your abdomen.

He can feel your body preparing to tumble over the edge, walls clenching around his fingers, and thighs flexing.

“There you go sweetheart.”

Sweetheart. That’s new.

It surprises you both the second it leaves his lips. But the surprise of it barely registers, instead the word is unleashing a flutter in your chest and a warmth between your legs. You’re obsessed with the way it sounds in the rasp of Jack’s voice. In fact, you like it so much your body trembles and whimpers fill the air as you come undone on his fingers.

His eyes watch as his movements slow, digits coated in your slick and pushing into you continuously even after your body finishes shuddering.

It’s almost sadistic the small smirk he’s wearing as his eyes stay fixated on his fingers sliding in and out of your body.

He was starved. Starved of touch— the warmth of another’s body. The way you pulled him in with each thrust of his fingers made him want to stay there all night, making you cum over and over again to feed his craving of your body at his mercy.

If it weren’t for your delicate hands gripping at his forearm, forcing him back to reality, he would’ve kept going, would’ve seen just how much more you could take.

“Jack.” Your voice breaks him from his trance, hand wrapping around his arm and pulling him back to hover parallel over your body.

An unsolicited grunt erupts from deep in his throat as your hands, once again, slide into his underwear. Only this time, they fall far enough to envelop his cock in your soft touch.

His hand comes down forcefully next to your head, palm flat against the mattress to hold himself steady as pleasure washes over him.

You’ve only pumped over his length once and he’s already squeezing his eyes shut in focus, trying not to spill into your hand.

“Sweetheart.”

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have used that nickname again. Not right now, when he was seconds away from having an embarrassingly quick orgasm.

Your grip tightened slightly at the word, hand working a little faster, and paying extra close attention to his overly sensitive tip. He has to put a hand over yours to conceal your efforts.

“I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up.” His brows raise at your smug expression, your hand still stroking him despite his attempt to stop you.

“I’m serious.” A breathless snarl meets your ear as his head falls lower, nearly resting in the crook of your neck.

You hum in response, one hand continuing its work between his legs, the other pushing at the pants still around his hips.

He was quick to oblige your unspoken request, bringing his own hand down to rid himself of his pants and underwear. His hands are then at your hips yanking your panties down your legs.

In a heated frenzy both of you took a few seconds to take off any remaining clothes. Sitting up to swiftly pull off shirts, and while you’re reaching to take off your bra, Jack stretches to his bedside table, fishing out a condom from its box that’s been sitting untouched in his drawer for far too long.

Then, you’re back to square one, his body hovering over yours, and his lips kissing down your neck.

Your hand finds him again, palm encircling his member as he freezes under your touch.

“You sure you wanna do this?” His voice is lost in the skin of your chest, his lips melting against your collarbone.

“You’re asking me? I thought you were the one who needed convincing.” The giggle in your voice has Jack nipping playfully at your skin, his hand confidently fitting between your legs.

“What can I say, you’ve persuaded me.” A teasing tone slips through his lust clouded whisper, fingers collecting the slick at your core with a groan on his tongue.

You grab the condom out of his hand, tearing it open and rolling it onto him with ease, the feeling causing him to lean further into your touch.

This was one of the reasons Jack was so drawn to you.

You held such discreet authority. Always taking charge with a charming smile and a sweet command in your voice.

He couldn’t have imagined the same power he witnessed at work would roll over into the bedroom. Your captivating ability to take quiet control was suddenly so obvious in the way you were guiding his now protected length to line up with your entrance, body shimmying down the bed to coerce him into you.

When the head of his cock finally pushes into you, you both let out noises of relief.

The placated gasp from your lips, and the profound groan on his, proves that you’d both been longing for this exact moment for weeks.

He takes his time. Learning the hug of your body. Savoring every inch of pure bliss, as he fills you at a painstaking pace. Your hands shoot to his back, fingertips digging into the broad expanse of his shoulder blades, just enough to encourage his movement until he enters you completely, pushed in to the hilt.

His eyes stay on yours, watching the way your lids almost close while you adjust to him, your mouth parted slightly at the stretch.

Then he’s pulling out and thrusting back in, moaning at the way you feel wrapped around him.

Your head tilts back into his comforter at the sweet friction of his strokes, and the sight beneath him has another moan bubbling up Jack’s throat.

It was exactly how he’d dreamt this moment— your back on his bed, with your head thrown back in pleasure. Getting to watch your body respond to him his perch above you, your naked figure far more beautiful than anything he could’ve imagined. It was all so perfect. You were perfect.

He picked up the pace of his thrusts, not too fast, but perfectly timed with the squeeze of your fingers on his back. He knew he must be hitting something right in the way you were gripping his shoulders and crying out for him. Crying out for him. Your voice was strained and winded as his name fell from your lips in a chant.

His self-control must’ve been at an all-time high, because he closed his eyes for a moment, gaining his bearings and talking himself down from cumming at the sounds of your whines.

He collects whatever composure is left in his body and brings a hand down between the two of you, fingertips finding that sensitive spot just above where his cock is driving into you.

He rubs steady circles into your clit, and judging by the way his name jumps from you an octave higher than before, he knows he’ll get to watch you cum again.

He makes it his goal. Setting his thrusts at a fixed pace, as his fingers deliberately stroke your bundle of nerves. He focuses completely on your pleasure to distract himself from the pulsing pressure running through his veins.

He needs to see you let go for him one more time before he can finish. An easy task given the way your back is arching off his bed, sending your hips further into him.

“I’m gonna-“ The words are hardly coherent as they slip between your gasps and moans— wanting to tell him you’re close but unable to string more than two words together.

“Come on sweetheart.” His words were directed straight to your core, eyes back down and watching between your bodies as he slides into you. His mind growing hazy at the sight of you taking his cock so well.

His encouragement was all you needed to let go. Your release washing over you in waves of bliss.

Jack’s eyes make the journey back to your face, watching in awe at your expression as it takes on a state of utter relief, your head falling even deeper into the blanket underneath you.

That image is what finally makes him succumb to the persistent chase of his release.

He’s groaning and panting, one of his hands coming to grip your hips, the other balancing himself on the mattress, pressed flat on the space next to your face.

He’s grunting profanities as he spills through his orgasm, allowing his elbow to bend so he can rest his forehead against yours. Both of you breathing heavy, eyes meeting in a moment of vulnerability and understanding as you bring a hand up to lace through his hair. Almost petting his grey curls, you lazily smile through the puffs of breath on your lips.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over seeing you like this, an angel laid out on his bedspread— just for him. Giving you both a moment to recover, he stays like that for a minute. He’s leaning into you, listening to your soft breaths even out, and he can feel himself getting hard again. His dick is still throbbing, not even fully soft and he’s already ready for another round.

His cock getting hard again, that fast after sex, was something he hadn’t experienced in over a decade.

These days Jack needed plenty of time between orgasms to even think about getting another erection, but in this moment, still buried in you and hearing the tiny gasps of breath coming from your heaving chest, he wanted more. He could feel his addiction to you growing stronger, reminding him of the forbidden nature of your budding relationship.

“What are we getting ourselves into.” Speaking his thoughts aloud, his voice fills the room, a grin lingering in his lips.

He can’t help but smile as he imagines what the future holds for your relationship, his forehead still pressed gently against yours.

my masterlist

#jack abbot #the pitt #jack abbot x reader #jack abbot smut #jack abbot fanfiction #the pitt fanfiction #jack abbot x you #dr abbot #dr abbot smut #dr abbot x reader

2K notes · View notes

heejamas · 5 months ago

Text

𝗻𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝘂𝘆

pairing: jake x fem!reader x sunghoon

synopsis: you decide to go to your first college party after two years, and after having to take care of two different drunk men, your college life changes drastically.

genre: social media au (smau), crack, fluff, smut, strangers to lovers, love triangle, college au

status: finished! (12/22/2024 - 04/12/2025)

playlist: jake's playlist | sunghoon's playlist

warnings: profanity, sexual jokes, little bit polygamic, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, ignore timestamps please!!! it's all crack zero braincells kinda au, reader is jungwon's twin sister, jake and hoon hate each other

teaser 📓

profiles: 1 | 2 | 3

incoming chapters

1. greek god 2. the bro code 3. jungwon's best friend 4. rabbit hole 5. niki from the future 6. she's coming... 7. the aftermath (2.6k words) 8. like a prayer trend 9. werefolf 10. naruto and sasuke are gay 11. thanks sigmund freud 12. bros like to gossip 13. women are dating robots in 2025 14. between two wolves (2k words + 6 screenshots) 15. shawty had them apple bottom jeans 16. the john cena episode 17. TELL ME WHY 18. sigma boy 19. rose bowl 20. hate to mate bowl 21. tom brady and patrick mahomes 22. unspoken desires (5.5 works + 6 screenshots) 23. hungary field trip 24. sunghoon diss track 25. fifa straight male gathering 26. just close the door (1.3k words + 8 screenshots) 27. nikola jokic 28. the super bowl episode (10k words + 10 screenshots 29. tdot 30. travis kelce but he's from japan 31. chateau marmont 32. tax evasion is a victimless crime 33. the premiere (15k words) 34. binding contract with the devil 35. just like tt 36. world war 5 just dropped 37. magnesium the mouse 38. the final chapter (6.7k words + 20 screenshots)

heejama's masterlist 📎

author's note: hey guys! this is my first long smau so i hope you guys like it 🥹 taglist is open, just comment down below or dm me 🤍

#enhypen au #enhypen fake texts #enhypen texts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen smau #sunghoon smau #sunghoon au #sunghoon smut #jake smau #jake fake texts #jake smut #jake x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen x you

2K notes · View notes

nayeoniiz · 4 months ago

Text

WEBCAM PERV! (1)

pairings ❥ heeseung x fem!reader

point of view ❥ third person, omniscient

warnings ❥ mutual masturbation, cyberstalking, noncon recording

synopsis ❥ you meet heeseung on omegle and quickly hit it off until you accidentally disconnect. feeling at a loss from not being able to find him again, you give up and live life as if it never happened. unbeknownst to you, however, he turns out to be a hacker who hacked into your camera, resorting to watching your secretly from behind the screen… until he didn’t.

genre ❥ smut

word count ❥ 4.4k

taglist: @rayofsunshineeee

Webcam Perv! (2)

author’s note: sorry it took me a bit longer to release, i ended up rewriting over the whole draft. i was gonna write the full story in one go, but if there’s one thing you should know about me, it’s that i love making series. anyway i hope yall enjoy! & a reminder that my requests are open (send as an ask or submission pls do not dm me lol). go check out my other stories while you’re at it bc i have much more cooking! not proofread so don’t come for me!

y/n lay blank faced on her bed with her phone in hand. it had been hours since she’d gotten home from her classes, and now she was just scrolling mindlessly on tiktok out of boredom. her room was quiet except for the occasional hum of her heater and the everchanging audios blasting from her phone’s speakers.

she sighed, tossing her phone to the side resorting to staring at the ceiling. as the days were growing colder, y/n couldn’t help but to feel this growing sense of loneliness creeping in, like there was something missing that she couldn’t quite put her finger onㅡexcitement was the closest word she think of. she didn’t have many friends to talk to, or text, or hang out with—just her best friend natty, but the girl was currently unreachable as she had already fallen asleep after their brief phone call.

midterms were always the dryest times for y/n. after spending hours in the library, forcing far too many categories of knowledge down her throat for her own goodㅡ just to end up with barely above average scores, she was too drained to do much of anything else when she got home. but, it was hard to just sleep. she was intransigent when it came to resting after studying because she wanted to give herself the free time she’d lost instead. usually being on her phone, and rotting her brain away with the useless curated content that she handpicked for herself would suffice. but on days like thisㅡ where her studying ended close to (or in this case, after) midnight, it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy the dopamine she was longing for.

after a few moments of lying in a frozen state of staring off into nothing, she reached for her laptop, opening it on impulse. omegle. it had been a while since she’d used it, and honestly, it wasn’t the best idea, but she figured it might help pass the time. and maybe it’d even give her some form of human interaction, though her hopes weren’t too high given the website’s reputation. she typed “k-pop” into the category field, hoping it’d narrow down the pool to people around her age who might share at least one interest with her.

the first few chats weren’t anything special. she ran through the typical brief hellos, the awkward pauses, and of course the familiar “stranger has disconnected.” a few times, however, she was met with the sight of creepy old men who took pleasure in flashing, reacting at lightning speed to skip the chats before things could get worse. some people seemed normal at first, friendly even, but as soon as they’d start saying weird thingsㅡor worse, making noises that gave away their intentions, it’d soil her mood once again as she refreshed her tab.

after getting skipped again for the umpteenth time, y/n found herself hovering her mouse over the “new chat” button, debating. she looked at the clock in the corner of her screen, she had already wasted 30 minutes trying to find a normal human being to talk to. she was beginning to wonder if this was really a good idea to begin with. was it even worth possibly getting harassed for another half hour, in the name of being social? she weighed her options: she could either waste another 2 hours on tiktok, or go to bed. neither seemed appetizing for the hunger of connection she craved. with a sigh, she decided to try one more. and if it didn’t work out, it just meant that it was time to call it a night. she clicked to start a new chat.

stranger is typing…

stranger: hii

you: hello

stranger: m23

you: f22

stranger: cam?

you: earn it?

this one didn’t seem too bad so far, but she wasn’t going to make an early judgement. the man seemed to respect her decision as he quickly changed the conversation. they kept things light, alternating on asking each other random questions back and forth about hobbies, favorite foods, movies, shows, and music. the conversation was easy, fun even, and y/n found herself smiling a little despite the earlier frustration. it was like she was finally getting what she was looking for. with the conversation being tame, he took it as a green light to ask again.

stranger: can i see you now?

you: fine lol

y/n hesitated before turning her camera on and adjusted her hair quickly before looking at the screen. the male in her vision had a sharp, almost angelic face, with delicate features that seemed to be personally sculpted by the man above. his hair was dark and tousled, the slight messiness giving him a laid-back, calm vibe with his headset only adding character to his visual as they laid over his ears. his eyes were a captivating deep brown. they were soft and friendly, it made it hard to look away. even through the webcam, it was clear he had this undeniable charm, his steady gaze hinting that he knew the effect he had on others. the two of them stayed still, ogling each other for a bit, the stare down only being interrupted when he abruptly started typing again.

stranger is typing…

stranger: damn ur fine lol

you: thx so are you

stranger: you in korea?

you: yeah

stranger: me too

stranger is typing…

stranger: audio?

you: yk what? yeah

heeseung and y/n both go to turn on their audio. while her room was silent, disregarding the small noise coming from her room’s heater, heeseung had r&b music softly playing in the background. it only added to this boy next door vibe she was getting from him. the two of them were silent for a second before heeseung decided to break the ice by speaking first.

“hello? let me know if you can hear me.” his voice came through clearly, deep and smooth, carrying a natural warmth that drew her in without him even trying. a part of her was convinced he had to secretly be a weirdo. what was someone as attractive as him even doing on this site, yet alone at this hour? she took a breath before answering.

“hi, yeah i can hear you,” she replied, her tone a little uncertain, unsure of how to match his cool energy. she wasn’t exactly the extroverted type of person to begin with, you can only imagine how much harder it was to speak when such a captivating face was waiting for her response in real time.

heeseung only chuckled softly, the sound seamlessly exuding natural confidence. “so… i guess we finally get to talk now.”

y/n smiled at his words, her need for approval rising as she juggled through all the responses she could make to keep him engaged, “yeah, seems like it,” she responded, her voice was steady now as she tried to shake off the nervousness creeping in.

heeseung chuckled, shifting closer to his keyboard as his fingers danced over the keys. the music in the background shifted, the beat changing just as he leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. his voice lowered a notch as he spoke, a hint of amusement in his tone. ”i’m, heeseung, by the way.”

“y/n,” she responded.

“i gotta admit,” he said, “i wasn’t sure if you’d actually turn on your mic.”

“why’s that?” she asked, an almost muted giggle escaping her lips as she twirled a strand of her hair, her fingers displaying how nervous she felt. heeseung watched her with a quiet intensity, noticing every little movement she made. the way her fingers fidgeted and how she avoided meeting his gaze through the screen.

“i don’t know,” he said, his tone lazy and nonchalant, but holding a teasing undertoneㅡ a subtle shift she didn’t quite catch onto. “guess i’m just lucky you did.” he didn’t say anything about her fidgeting, though. he didn’t need to. she seemed like the type to change her behavior once it was called out, and he was more captivated by it than he let on. there was something about her shyness, moreso the way she couldn’t quite hide it, that intrigued him. “so, what do you usually do when you’re not chatting with strangers on the internet?”

his question had caught y/n off guard for a brief moment, another nervous laugh slipping past her lips as she tugged on her shirt’s collar, adjusting it to make sure nothing was out of place though she didn’t actually need to. she didn’t know why, but something about talking to him felt different from the others. “uh, not much… if i’m not studying, i just watch tiktoks or call my friend if she’s not tired.” she replied hoping the answer sounded casual enough.

“hm, sounds like you’ve got some time to kill,” heeseung smirked, inching his chair closer to the screen. he opened a second tab, the soft clatter of his typing blending effortlessly with the mellow r&b drifting through the background.

“yeah, guess i do. life’s… kinda mundane, you know?” y/n replied sheepishly. her gaze followed his, noting the slight movement of his hands just out of view, but chucking it up to him searching for another song to play as the music shifted again. he didn’t back away from the screen this time, though. instead, he kept his eyes locked on hers, unwavering.

“i get it,” heeseung replied, his voice lowering slightly, but still keeping its laidback manner, like they were just two people having an ordinary conversation. “i’m the same, but i'm more of a youtube guy, i found out about this site through a video on there.” as he spoke, his finger subtly danced across the keyboard, the screen flickering with the quiet download of her IP address. his eyes stayed on the camera, his expression open and unreadable, like he was genuinely listening to her.

“that’s interesting, this app usually has a bad rep. like, there’s only creeps on here,” y/n said, though her words seemed to be misunderstood as heeseung furrowed his brows.

“are you trying to insinuate that i’m a creep?”

her eyes widened in shock, and she quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. a stutter broke through her words. “what?! no! i’m just saying—i’ve run into a lot of them tonight before i landed on you. so i was just… i don’t know. forget i said anything.” she sulked, her face reddening with embarrassment at her failed attempt to relate. heeseung watched in awe, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile, at her mannerisms, finding every one of her reactions so cute. sensing her discomfort, he smoothly shifted the topic.

“i’m kidding, y/n.” he grinned, showcasing his pearly whites. “so… what’s one thing you’ve always wanted to do but never got around to?” he asked, his tone light, but there was an underlying intensity to his gaze. he wasn’t just asking out of curiosity; he was studying her, absorbing every word she said, as if her answers would tell him everything he needed to know.

y/n paused, thinking for a moment before she answered. “probably traveling more. i feel like i’m always stuck in the same routine.”

“yeah, routines can be… limiting. but they’re also comforting, right?” he paused, his eyes flickering to a different part of his screen for just a moment before he continued. “you know, sometimes it’s those little moments, when everything feels a little too safe, that you need to shake things up.” he spoke so casually, like he was giving advice, but it sounded a bit odd to y/n. she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to his words, though she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. regardless, she found herself wanting to stay, wanting to know more. and she was always too paranoid for her own good anyway. it was probably nothing.

“i guess.”

“oh. yeah, but is that the only reason you’re on here?” heeseung’s fingers were still moving on his keyboard, the quiet clicking of the keys going unnoticed now. he wasn’t just talking anymore—he was already pulling the strings, weaving a subtle web around her, all while his words remained smooth and harmless. y/n’s lips pursed in thought, the sudden change in the atmosphere making her feel more curious than she was letting on.

“what do you mean?” she asked, confusion creeping into her tone as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. heeseung’s system, working silently in the background, had breached the security of her wifi by now, scanning through the connected devices, its main goal being to gain access to her phone.

“i mean… it’s almost 4am, saturday night. you’re a cute girl, seem kind of introverted, but you give off this vibe... like you’re looking for some fun.”

whatever dimwitted perception y/n formed of him had shattered. he was no different from any of the other men she’d encountered prior. “oh. i don’t really do… that,” she replied, a slight pout playing on her lips. she moved her mouse to hover over the skip button, but she didn’t click it. something was keeping her here. maybe it was the way he looked at her—too attractive, too confident. she wasn’t sure, but she didn’t move.

heeseung noticed her hesitation, his grin widening. “oh, neither do i,” he said in a humoring manner, brushing her reaction off as if his earlier comment didn’t mean anything. “i just had to test the waters. can you blame me though? it’s not every day you meet an attractive girl on here. you said it yourself, there’s usually only creeps on here, right?”

“yeah,” she laughed, the sound effortlessly drawn out as she got caught in the pull of his charm. any cautions she had before seemed to dissipate as she got lost in his eyes. she debated whether she should just give in—it wasn’t like they’d see each other again, right? but then, the stories about girls who made impulsive choices, and got extorted, crept into her mind. the fear of becoming just another statistic arose.

“what do you have in mind?” she asked, her words slipping out before she could think them through. her people-pleasing tendencies had kicked in, but the smile that spread across his face made her heart race. somehow, it felt good, like she was doing something right. and that made it feel worth it. rewarding, even.

“whatever you’re offering, baby,” heeseung replied smoothly, his voice dipping into an unfamiliar, alluring tone that made her body tingle. as he spoke, his hand moved subtly off-screen, clicking to start recording. the faintest smirk curled on his lips as he leaned closer to the camera, his eyes burning into hers with a suggestiveness that made her feel seen in a way she hadn’t before. desired. wanted.

“i don’t know,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. a nervous smile played on her lips as her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. her eyes darting away from the camera before flicking back to his. “i’ve never done anything like this before.”

heeseung tilted his head slightly, his smirk widening as he studied her. there was something about her naivety, the way she danced on the edge of her own boundaries, that made his pulse quicken. he decided then and there that if he wasn’t already obsessed before, he definitely was now. utterly and completely.

“well, i’m honored to be the first,” his voice dripped with seduction, but his eyes glinted with something far more sinister.

her cheeks flushed as she hesitated again, her fingers picking at the fabric of her shirt before she finally blurted, “could you maybe…” she paused, laughing softly at how ridiculous she felt to ask. “show me something, too? just to keep it fair.” her words made heeseung pause for a moment before a low chuckle escaped him, growing into full, unrestrained laughter. he leaned back in his chair, shaking his head in amusement, his eyes never leaving her face.

she was truly a character—everything about her was so… adorable. her openness, her immediate trust in a complete stranger, and the impulsivity that seemed to pour out of her without a second thought. it was intoxicating. she was everything he’d been looking for, everything someone like him—a man with desires he dared not say aloud—would dream of finding. and yet, beneath his amusement, there was a darker realization. if she wasn’t careful and kept giving away pieces of herself so easily, someone would take advantage of her. someone crueler, more reckless, more dangerous than him. he couldn’t let that happen. not with anyone else at least. she was his now. and if she was going to be ruined, it would only be by him.

“would you like it better if i go first?” heeseung inquired, his voice smooth as the corners of his lips nearly curled into a restrained smirk. he watched her reaction closely, catching the way her quick, almost desperate nod betrayed her displayed excitement. it was endearing, almost painfully so. it drove him crazy. he pursed his lips, feigning contemplation, before his smile grew wider, softer. “thought so,” he murmured, his tone carrying just enough teasing warmth to make her feel both at ease. she was completely under his spell.

he reached for his webcam, the movement slow as he decided to savor the moment. tilting it slightly, he aimed it downward, the lens capturing his relaxed posture, legs spread comfortably wide. the soft fabric of his sweatpants clung to him in just the right way, emphasizing his figure without him needing to do much at all. the unthought of confidence in his movements was enough to hold her gaze, her breath catching as the tension in the air thickened. his hands grazed over the fabric covering his length, a small hiss of relief leaving his lips as he did so. she had already gotten him painfully hard without even trying.

lifting his hips, he slides his sweats down. just enough for him to pull his cock out, an unintentional gasp falling from y/n’s lips at the sight of it. he couldn’t hide the rush of pride that surfaced at her reaction. it was a response he’d grown accustomed to from his long list of other victims on the site, but there was something about y/n that struck him differently. her wide-eyed gaze, the way her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words—it was enough to ignite a deeper need within him, a desire to draw her in further, to leave her completely captivated by him.

a quiet curse slipped past his lips as he stroked, his hand barely being able to wrap around its girth. his movements were meticulous, unhurried as he moved to spread his precum over the rest of his length. he leaned back slightly, his gaze never leaving her face. his dark eyes carried a silent command, the faintest nod of his head urging her to follow his lead. he didn’t have to say a word—his confidence, his control, it was all laid bare in the way he watched her, waiting to see how far she would go.

it was then that y/n realized she couldn't back out now. not that she wanted toㅡ her curiosity, mingled with the pull he had over her, kept her rooted in place. but it was starting to feel too real, the weight of the moment sinking in as she hesitated, unsure of what he was expecting. the fact that he left it up to her made it even more difficult. her mind raced as she nervously tugged at the bottom of her shirt, praying her choice would be enough to satisfy him.

heeseung's gaze didn't waver, his expression unreadable but intent, as though he were savoring every second of her hesitation. when she finally moved, lifting her shirt to display her breasts. her cheeks burned as she moved her hands over one, massaging and pinching her nipples. his lips twitched into the faintest smile. to her, his reaction was subtle, leaving her questioning if she'd done enough.

but to heeseung, it was everything. to him, everything about her was intoxicating, from the nervous way she moved, to the unsure glances she gave him. he would have been satisfied just seeing her collarbone. his heart raced at the thought of how easily she gave in, how willingly vulnerable she was in front of him. it inflated his ego even more, knowing he was the first to witness this side of her.

he forced himself to keep his expression composed, though his excitement was nearly impossible to contain. the speed of his fingers absentmindedly sped up, thinking of how he’d be able to relive it again later tonight. and he’d make sure to replay every moment, over and over, obsessing over the way she unwittingly gave herself to him.“ah~ fuck, y/n,” he whimpered, unable to contain the heat growing over him. his eyes snapped shut, immediately imagining his hand to be hers. his hips bucked, as he began thrusting into his fist chasing the feeling of a body he knew now that he just had to get his hands on. tonight wasn’t going to be enough, he needed more.

y/n didn’t know where her confidence was coming from when her free hand snaked its way down to the hem of her shorts as she pushed past them straight into her panties. she scooted into a slouch allowing herself easier access as she began rubbing on her clit, the pressure soothing its throbbing ache and sending a sweet, shocking sensation throughout her body. she couldn’t bite back the moan that slipped outㅡ the noise sounding like music to heeseung’s ears. oh how jealous he was of her hands now. being able to touch her because he couldn’t. it wasn’t enough, nowhere near it.

”look at me,” he murmured, his voice rough, making her cheeks flush as she slowly opened her eyes to meet his. his gaze was full of desire, making her feel small in a way that was strangely exhilarating. she found herself wanting nothing more than to impress him. she bit her lip as she quickly moved to lower the camera, aiming it to display more of her chest and downward before returning to her prior position on the chair. it didn’t even matter to him that her shorts kept her beautiful cunt a mystery to himㅡ the whole picture was so fucking sexy. the way she was playing with her nipples, pinching and rolling them, the speed of her circular motions increasing as she chased her orgasm, the way her tongue rested on her bottom lip before she bit it, the way sheㅡ

“heeseung~ oh my god.”

fuck. if he was wasn’t already stroking fast enough, he was moving at godspeed now. he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold back. he rubbed his thumb along his tip’s slit as he kept his pace, the action leaving his hips stuttering. he was so close, and y/n was too. she couldn’t control the volume of her moans, gripping her breast like her life depended on it. “i’m gonna cum, oh my god, oh my god,” the desperation in her voice made him come undone as he bit back a loud, throaty moan. but she kept going, still chasing her climax as her moans got choked out the harder she went on herself.

just as she was about to cum, when she was almost there, her computer suddenly shut down. the screen went black without warning, leaving only an empty, lifeless void. heeseung watched as her screen flickered and then turned dark, his heart sinking in frustration. “fuck!” he swore, shooting forward in his chair, eyes fixed on the blank screen. he slammed a fist on the desk in irritation before quickly ending the recording. his hands moved frantically over the keyboard, reopening his hacking program, desperately trying to figure out what went wrong.

y/n didn’t even notice, her orgasm crashed over her as she felt like every nerve, and cell in her body had come undone. she kept her eyes closed as she let out a breathless sigh, regaining her composure. after a few seconds, y/n opened her eyes to see that her laptop was blank. she frantically clicked on buttons trying to turn it on, clicking the power button which only displayed a red drained battery as if to mock her further. of all times it could have decided to die, why now? the frustration and panic settled in as she realized she may never get to see him again. she didn’t have any ways to contact him, but would he even want to hear from her again? doubt clouded her mind. now there was no way of knowing. she wanted to keep talking to him, but the odds seemed slim. with a heavy sigh, she jumped up, scrambling to plug her laptop into the charger.

meanwhile, heeseung was still navigating through her information. he had closed out of omegle and now his focus was entirely on troubleshooting. he noticed her computer no longer showed up on the network, the last activity was two minutes ago. “that piece of shit must’ve died,” he grumbled under his breath. he figured now would be the time to access her phone’s camera as it would be useless trying to find her again on the website. switching servers on the program, he downloaded the data to his phone and went to lay down. he watched through the front camera on her phone, but it remained in the same spot unmoving. he was getting frustrated.

y/n had wasted almost 45 minutes skipping through hundreds of people in search of his face on omegle. but to no avail, his face never came up again. it was 6am, and she had plans with natty to go through with in the evening. as much as she didn’t want to right now, she had to sleep. oth of them, in their own way, ended up resigned to their separate fates. y/n reluctantly accepted her defeat, bitterly acknowledging that the night had slipped away. but at least for heeseung, there was a sense of satisfaction in knowing he would have another chance to see her again. this wouldn’t be the last time they crossed paths. he’d make sure of that.

Webcam Perv! (2)

#enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen x you #enhypen smut #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #heeseung scenarios #enhypen heeseung #heeseung imagines #heeseung smut #heeseung x female reader

1K notes · View notes

rinnstars · 6 months ago

Text

jealousy jealousy!

when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else

bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3

nagi seishiro:

“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.

its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.

“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.

its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.

nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.

and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.

and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.

“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.

“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.

rin itoshi:

its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.

and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)

usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.

and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.

“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”

its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.

the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.

and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.

and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.

reo mikage:

he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.

“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.

“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.

and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.

“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.

“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.

“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #itoshi rin fluff #rin x reader #nagi seishiro x reader #seishiro nagi x reader #nagi x reader #nagi fluff #reo mikage x reader #mikage reo x reader #reo x reader #reo fluff #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk fluff #rin.<3

2K notes · View notes

luminnara · 1 year ago

Text

Traditions | Feyd-Rautha x Reader

REQUEST: As Feyd-Rautha's wife-to-be, you have moved to the Harkonnen homeworld to await your wedding. You're doing your best to adhere to their customs, but when a supposed doctor examines your 'purity,' Feyd-Rautha's reaction is anything but calm.

MASTERLIST

Requests are open! This was one of the first I received for Feyd-Rautha, I hope you enjoy!

WARNINGS: SA in a medical setting (not graphic but also more than just implied), canon typical violence (also not graphic)

Harkonnen customs were strange.

Harkonnens were strange.

Everything about Giedi Prime felt alien to you—its black sun, bathing the world in infrared; its barren landscape, polluted and abused by years of unbridled industry; and, perhaps most of all, its nobility, the Baron and his his nephew, Feyd-Rautha.

“A Harkonnen?” You had choked out when your parents informed had you of the decision. You had been in disbelief, as if reality had come to slap you in the face. All you had ever known was your homeworld and the comforts of the family palace, on a planet that was lush and beautiful. Everything you had ever heard of the Harkonnen homeworld was the opposite—harsh and inhospitable, its people even more so. You had resisted the information initially, refusing to believe that your life was changing so suddenly and so dramatically.

But, ever the dutiful daughter, you stood and met the na-Baron when he arrived, openly staring at his appearance while another Harkonnen introduced him. Feyd-Rautha was extremely pale, his skin nearly white, and, like the rest of the delegation from Giedi Prime, he was hairless. He did not even have eyebrows, and as your father welcomed him to your world, you wondered if he was truly hairless, everywhere.

As your thoughts wandered, the na-Baron’s eyes slid to you, meeting yours. You suddenly felt as though you had been caught doing something naughty, the way he looked at you, drinking you in, tilting his head slightly as he appraised you.

“Is the na-Baron pleased with what he sees?” You spoke up in a moment of bravery.

His eyes raked over your body and he smirked, making a rough sound you assumed might be a laugh.

“Oh yes, princess.” His voice was just as harsh as you’d expected. “Very.”

Feyd-Rautha spent a week on your planet, courting you in the ways of your House. He presented you with gifts of refined spice and Harkonnen riches, knives and strangely austere jewelry. He walked with you in the evenings, where you spoke of mundane things, unsure of what you were meant to do in his presence exactly, and he watched you like a hawk hunting a field mouse. When the week was up, you accompanied him back to Giedi Prime to prepare for the wedding, leaving your homeworld behind.

Feyd-Rautha was less well behaved when not surrounded by the members of another House. He was an unsettling, panther-like man, always on the hunt for something to kill…and when you arrived on his planet, you saw that he sometimes killed without abandon, fighting drugged prisoners in a public arena to satisfy his own ego.

You were not sure that you wanted him as your husband—he seemed somewhat disinterested in you, leaving you to the guest chambers you would eventually be moving out of in favor for his bed. Your first week on Giedi Prime was another of courtship, though this time in the ways of his people, and you were honored to witness his fighting prowess in that arena beneath that strange sun. You dined with him and his uncle the Baron Vladimir, a large and unpleasant man, one you could tell your husband-to-be felt no real love towards. Feyd-Rautha simply enjoyed that he would one day take the Baron’s place, and when Vladimir commented on your figure one evening, you saw the way Feyd’s jaw tensed. Perhaps he did want you as his wife, after all.

Another strange Harkonnen custom revealed itself to you toward the end of that week, when a doctor entered your chambers and informed you that your purity was to be inspected.

“My apologies, but…what?” You asked, confused. You had never heard of such a thing. Surely he couldn’t possibly mean what you thought he meant…?

“We must ensure that none other than the na-Baron have had you, milady.” The man explained. You noticed he sported a gray sash around his middle, and you assumed it was some sort of uniform. “It must be guaranteed that you are untouched, and that the heir you provide will be the na-Baron’s and no one else’s.”

You felt your face grow warm with anger and embarrassment. “Is my word not enough?”

“I’m afraid this is tradition, milady.” He stared at you with intense, beady eyes. “The na-Baron was eager to honor the customs of your House. You do not want him to think you are refusing those of House Harkonnen, do you?”

No, you did not. The last thing you wanted was to anger Feyd-Rautha and potentially drive your future husband even further away from you. You did not want to seem rude, nor did you want to cause a fuss…and you had been examined by doctors before, though perhaps not for this exact reason. You could withstand a few moments of awkward discomfort, you reasoned, if it meant avoiding an unhappy marriage.

“You do not have any instruments,” you noted.

The doctor smiled, revealing the black teeth of the Harkonnens. “Medical instruments are not necessary for this, milady. Please, move to the bed so that I may examine you.”

You rose from your place at the simple table in the center of the room, abandoning your half-eaten breakfast. As you turned, you felt the doctor’s eyes watching you a chill prickled the back of your neck. You needed to relax, you told yourself; if you were expected to produce an heir, there would be many more invasive check ups far stranger than this. You had seen your mother pregnant with your younger siblings, and had heard her speaking with the midwives and Bene Gesserit woman who stalked the halls of the palace back home. Perhaps this was how you could ease yourself into all of that.

When you turned to face the doctor once more, you were relieved to see him standing just as you had left him. His smile unsettled you, but then so did most Harkonnen features, you realized as you sat on the edge of the bed.

“Lay back and relax, milady.” He said, approaching you. “This won’t take but a moment.”

-0-

To your surprise, Feyd-Rautha joined you for lunch that day. A servant had been sent ahead to inform you that the na-Baron would be arriving to your chambers shortly, but when he did, you insisted on eating elsewhere. The encounter with the doctor had done more than simply unsettle you—it had rattled your nerves, leaving you feeling angry and confused. Though the man was long gone, you had no desire to remain in that room any longer than you absolutely had to, and lunch could not come early enough.

The na-Baron led you to his own chambers and food was served for you there, at a well-sized table just as austere as the rest of the building’s furniture and decor. He watched as you picked at your food, pushing it around on your plate but hardly eating any, and he took the opportunity to attempt conversation.

“We will be wed soon,” he said.

You wanted to roll your eyes. You were in no mood for small talk, but remembered who exactly you were dealing with and stifled a sigh. “Yes, na-Baron, we will.”

He smirked. “I look forward to the consummation, milady.”

You felt bile rising in your throat. The thought of anyone touching you again at the moment made you sick and angry, and you hated him for his people’s customs.

Feyd-Rautha tilted his head as he looked at you. “Do you not?”

“I am sure it will be everything we hope for and more,” you grumbled, looking down at your plate.

“It is unavoidable,” he growled. “We must produce an heir.”

“And we will!” You snapped, glaring up at him. “And you will be happy to hear that your doctor’s examination went as expected, my lord.”

The venom in your words stunned him almost as much as the words themselves. If Feyd weren’t so busy working through what exactly you had just said, he may have been tempted to bend you over that table just to show you how hard you made him, wedding night be damned…but there were other matters at hand now.

“Doctor?” He asked, eye twitching as his brow furrowed in thought.

“Yes, the one who confirmed that I am, in fact, pure,” you spat, voice laced with pure malice now.

You saw what could only be anger bubbling inside of him as he straightened his shoulders. “How exactly was this achieved?”

“By—by the usual means, I presume,” you said, quickly growing afraid of Feyd-Rautha’s infamous temper should it make an appearance. “He…confirmed that I am…that I have never…”

The na-Baron stood suddenly, knocking in the table in his haste. “Describe him to me.”

“I-I don’t know, he was a doctor!” You stammered. “He looked like every other Harkonnen, I don’t know—“

“What did he wear?”

“A-all black, like everyone here…a sash, a gray sash, around his waist, and he had no instruments—“

“What?” Feyd-Rautha roared, fists slamming down onto the table.

You jumped at the sudden outburst, staring in confusion as he stood. "I apologize if I've upset you, I don't understand why you--"

"Come." he hissed, grabbing your arm roughly and hauling you out of your seat.

You shrieked in surprise, stumbling to keep up as he dragged you out of the room and down the corridor. "Na-Baron, what is the meaning of this?!"

You received no answer. Feyd-Rautha was too angry to speak, shoulders hunched and full of violent tension as he stomped down the halls. Servants and Harkonnen nobles alike scattered upon seeing him, and as you twisted your head to look back at them, you saw them whispering and looking after you with pity on their faces.

"Feyd-Rautha, this is absurd!" you protested.

He came to a halt in front of a door. Though the wait for it to slide open only took a few moments, it felt like agony, and you had nowhere to look aside from the na-Baron's heaving form. You had never seen a person so angry before, so utterly enraged that he was practically incoherent. His silence was frightening, as when the door finally opened, you felt relieved...until he grabbed you once more and brought you inside with him.

The room was full of Harkonnen men, and as they looked to the door in surprise, you realized that you had entered some sort of lounge. You recognized their uniforms as military, and at the sight of their na-Baron, they all immediately stood, saluting him and bowing their heads.

"Which one?" Feyd-Rautha hissed, pulling you to stand at his side.

"What?" you asked, still confused by this entire operation.

"Which man?" he asked, voice strained as if he were holding himself back.

As you looked around at the Harkonnens, whose faces were stoic but whose eyes were frightened, you realized what your almost-husband was asking of you. It was difficult to tell them apart--their pale faces blended into one, their uniforms all nearly identical save for subtle distinctions of rank. Then, an idea; the gray sash you remembered, surely the doctor still wore it? If he were there in the room with you, perhaps you could--

Yes.

There he was.

You recognized his face and your lips pressed into a thin line. Feyd-Rautha, whose eyes had been glued to you, watching your every tiny, minute move, noticed the way your eyes lingered. His lip curled into a sneer as he turned to look at the man, whose comrades had all immediately stepped away, leaving him alone and exposed.

"Captain." the na-Baron's voice was dangerous. It was terrifying. You had never heard another human make a sound so guttural, so animalistic, and yet still manage to form it into a recognizable word.

As the man took a panicked step backwards, Feyd-Rautha stalked toward him. Your future husband smoothly pulled a long knife from a hilt on someone's hip as he passed them by, and you could only stare as the captain was brutalized.

You had never seen such agony.

When Feyd-Rautha was finished with him and the room had finally quieted after the screams died out, he stood from the fresh corpse and turned to you, holding a weapon now dripping with dark blood as he faced you.

"For you," he said simply, sincerely, bowing his head yet never breaking eye contact.

You stared. You had no idea how to react upon witnessing such a barbaric act, one that was sure to play out in your nightmares for weeks to come. When you felt panic rising in your chest you forced it down, and mustered all of the courage you possibly could to say, "Thank you, my lord," and bow your head in return.

He seemed satisfied with this as the knife clattered to the floor and he strode forward to you. "Let us leave."

You agreed wholeheartedly, following him and leaving the other soldiers to collect the pieces of their captain, now strewn across the lounge. Feyd-Rautha held your arm once more as he led you down the corridor, though this time, he was far more gentle. Something had been released from within him, his bloodlust sated and his anger quelled for the moment, and as the reality of what you had just witnessed him do crashed down around you, you stumbled to a halt and doubled over.

"Milady?" he asked, confused, before he turned to see you holding a hand over your mouth as you desperately tried not to be sick. His hands gripped your elbows as he faced you, undeterred by your retching. "What is this? He is dead, there is nothing to--"

"You killed him!" you choked out as you gasped for air, the bile in your throat still threatening to come up.

"Yes," he said, head tilted as he looked at you. "Of course I did. For you, as a gift." Then he paused, thinking. "...Was there another? An assistant?"

"No!" you managed to swallow down the last of the bile, throat burning as you grasped your sweat-slick forehead with your palm. "No, there was only him, but--why would you do such a thing?"

Now he was truly bewildered. "Why wouldn't I kill the animal whose hands touched you before mine?"

"Because...I..." you huffed, glaring at him. "What is going on? What is all of this, over a custom of your people? I did not enjoy his examination by any means, but I am doing everything in my power to accept the customs of House Harkonnen with grace and dignity no matter how awful they are and this entire spectacle has now made that very difficult, na-Baron!"

"House Harkonnen does not practice such a thing," he sneered, eyes angry once more.

Your shoulders dropped in horror. "...Excuse me?"

"That man should never have been within a thousand lengths of you."

"...Oh..." the panic had returned, but now, it felt much worse, and your voice sounded impossibly small. You lowered your hand to your lips, chewing your nail in agitation.

"Do you understand?" Feyd-Rautha asked, still holding your elbows.

"...Yes, I'm afraid I do..."

He leaned in, his forehead meeting yours as he still stared at your eyes. You found his to be a deep, dark blue, an abyss that threatened to swallow you up. But right now, you wouldn't mind such a thing, if it meant you could hide away from the world forever.

"No one will every lay a hand on you." he growled. "No one but me."

"...You killed him for me," you whispered.

"I did."

"You avenged me...yet you did not proclaim your reason in front of those other men?"

"I do not need a reason to take a life," he barked a laugh.

You just nodded.

"And I would not humiliate my wife in such a manner." he straightened once more, letting go of your elbows and offering you his arm once more.

"Thank you," you said as you took it and began walking.

"It does not matter to me if you another man has had you before." he said, staring forward. "I know the children you will bear will be mine."

He said it with an arrogance that may have annoyed you had the situation been different. Now, it was a comfort that he had such a big ego.

"That is correct, na-Baron," you said, sighing in relief. At least the whole ordeal was over now, and you doubted anyone would be foolish enough to cross your path now that one man had already been publicly eviscerated.

"Call me Feyd."

"Thank you," you glanced up at him with a small smile. "Thank you, Feyd."

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #tw SA

3K notes · View notes

teletubbyinlipstick · 9 months ago

Text

Hybrid!Poly TF141 x Reader Rambles

Once again, I'm unsure what to say. I get high, I get horny for these men, and then I hallucinate scenarios with said men. Please enjoy, please feel free to send in anything about these boys! Requests are open! I really like this idea, and I might continue to add on to it. https://www.tumblr.com/teletubbyinlipstick/760241391145238528/more-hybridpoly-tf141-x-reader-pleaaasseeeee?source=share heres the second part!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OwlHybridAU!

Captain Price has big wings. When spread, they're just shy of 28 ft. A beautiful array of ash and brindle the feathers are easily the length of your arm. He keeps them tucked nicely, looking smaller than they are. On the field, if it ever comes down to it and he needs his wings, the look on enemies' faces when they spread is, in Soaps words,"so fuckin hot."

No one disagrees.

Johnny's wings are a bit smaller, around 23ft they're a deep honey brown. In the light, in-between the feathers, an indigo blue shines just slightly. His are more pointy at the end, a ripple effect used for disguising. Simon loves nothing more than to preen him.

Usually it ends with Johnny face down, high whimpers in his throat.

Speaking of Simon, he has the biggest wings in TF141 at 30ft. They're midnight black with streaks of white. When he's moving fast, they look almost like lightning across a black sky. His second layer of feathers is a dark gray. It's hard to notice the difference, but once you do, it's harder not to notice. He's intimidating. He knows.

It's his kink.

Gaz has the prettiest wings, 20.5 feet, and the sweetest cocoa color. He has dirty blonde undertones that fade into pure auburn. His feathers get ruffled a little easily, and the boys love teasing him for it.

It's a group effort to preen his wings.

Now theres you, new to the group, younger than them at early-mid twenties. Assigned as a mate for the boys by the government in hopes of reproducing strong genes. You're a sweet little thing, lithe with a pudgy tummy. Your wings are only 15ft. And very fluffy, a gorgeous cream with strawberry blonde highlights. The edges appear light tawny.

You're very beautiful. And the boys fall in love almost immediately upon receiving your file. They nest for you, soft blankets and pillows and sweatshirts placed in the rec room for a cozy habitat. They're keen to meet you, forgoing preening their feathers the night before in hopes of pack bonding tomorrow with you.

So imagine when you end up being the most reclusive, quiet church mouse they've ever met. You speak maybe 3 sentences in total at the meeting. You were quick to bat Johnny's hand away when he reached for your shoulder for a friendly pat. Feathers ruffling just slightly.

They backed off.

Simon stood quiet the whole time, eyes zeroed in on you. Assessing.

They showed you the loft to your room. Simon kept a polite distance, leaning against a wall with his arms crossed. Gaz and Johnny were waiting for Price to make the first move and let you know about the nest they had secured for you in the rec area. But when you politely and quickly excused yourself and darted inside, closing the door with the resounding click. They realized you weren't going to the nest. Nor were you going to the rec room in general.

They slept in their shared king bed. The nest left cold and barren. Tears were wiped from Gaz's eyes, sweet cooing coming from the bed as the boys sought solstice for each other.

No one dried your tears, and you stayed curled in the corner of your bed. Scared. Alone. And unsure what the future will bring.

#imagines #one shot #idk how to tag this #cod x reader #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #johnny mactavish #john price x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #im not well #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #taskforce 141 x reader #poly 141 #poly 141 x reader

2K notes · View notes

rainydayathogwarts · 8 months ago

Text

Everybody knows that I'm a good girl, Officer - Jim Hopper

summary: Eddie and gf!reader get busted by Hopper. Hopper "drives" reader home... warnings: age gap, cheating, smut, perv hopper wc: 2.1k+

The image of Eddie Munson with a blunt between his fingers had become an almost regular occurrence for Hopper, their usual game of cat and mouse, however the chief of police hadn't been expecting this sight when he flashed his light through the window of Munson's old van. Perched on Eddie's lap in the driver's seat, skirt ridden up high enough to show your bare ass underneath, lips tangled in a messy kiss with Eddie's hand disappearing under your skirt, his other holding the flaming joint. Hopper's perfect little neighbour who lived with her parents in the house just across from his. Smiling politely with the sweetest "Good morning Chief Hopper!" every goddamn morning as you left the house for university.

Eddie's lips quickly separated from yours when the beam of light from Hopper's flashlight entered his field of vision, the smile leaving his features when he saw the older man looking right at him. The moment your lips detached from your boyfriend's, you threw your head back, mouth opening in a loud moan as he curled his fingers inside you just right. You didn't realise that you'd been loud enough to alert the Hawking chief of police about the activities taking place in the driver's seat.

"Fuck! Shit!" Your head snapped back towards Eddie when his fingers quickly slipped out of your wet entrance, gaze fixed on the older man on the other side of the window. You didn't have time to question Eddie before he was putting out the joint and shoving it in the compartment on his door. You scanned your surroundings, mouth falling agape at the sight of the police officer, embarrassingly tugging your denim skirt down the swell of your ass, and closing your spread legs as best you could in the position you were in. Two knocks on the car window had Eddie rolling down the window with a nervous smile, saying "Hey Hop!" The officer didn't play along, eyebrows furrowing as he barked out the order "Get out of the car."

Gulping nervously, you let Eddie open the door, quickly scrambling off him, high heels wobbling on the crunchy autumn leaves, your boyfriend immediately following. You stared with wide eyes as Hopper's eyes examined the scene. His nostrils flared, inhaling the scent of weed, hand diving into the side compartment without hesitation to pull out the joint. "You carrying any more on you Munson?" Eddie shook his head hurriedly from next to you and you winced at the obvious lie. When Hopper's eyes landed on you, you knew your face had said too much. His intimidating stare had you instantly looking down at your feet, avoiding eye-contact. "Your girlfriend's face says otherwise, arms out for me."

"Fuck." Eddie whispered from next to you, obeying Hopper's order to let the man pat him down. "What's in this pocket?" The policeman interrogated, pulling out the sachet of weed and rolling paper from Eddie's pocket. "Please don't arrest me Hop, you know me man!" Eddie begged, throwing his hands up in surrender. Hopper huffed, hand coming up to rub his forehead in thought. "This is your last warning Munson. I catch you one more time and I'll be cuffing you, okay?" Eddie nodded eagerly, feet glued in place. "This is the only time I'm letting you off. Now get in the car and drive off." Eddie grinned widely and you bit back a smile, beginning to walk around to the passenger's side.

"You stay right here y/n, I'm driving you home." Your face dropped completely, spinning around on your heels to face the chief as Eddie stopped in his tracks. "I know your parents pretty well. You think they'll be happy with this?" It was now your turn to shake your head, putting on your best doe eyes for him as you begged "No, you can't tell them, please Chief!" "They know about your good for nothing boyfriend?" Shaking your head once more, you frowned at the man's scoff. "Get going kid." He said once more, turning his attention back to your boyfriend. Eddie hesitated, looking back and forth between Hopper and your smaller figure, glancing at the man in worry before scurrying into his van, starting the engine, and sparing you one last glimpse before driving away.

When the sound of Eddie's van was out of earshot, you took two steps towards Hopper, clasping your two hands around his forearm. "Please Hopper, don't tell my parents!" He hummed, gazing intensely down at you. "You know, I'm surprised. I always thought you were a good girl." Unconsciously, your thighs squeezed tightly at the familiar words, and you suddenly remembered what you'd been doing before Hopper interrupted you. Fuck, you wish you'd gotten off before he did. If you focused hard enough, you could probably still feel Eddie's thumb rubbing circles on your clit.

When you looked back up at Hopper, it was clear that he had caught the movement, eyebrows raising in mock surprise. You gulped, seeing the look in Hopper's eyes change, and bit your lip to stop yourself from grinning as you formed a plan in your head. Your fingers moved against his forearm, caressing him softly, and you made show to squeeze your thighs once more, putting on the most desperate tone in your voice when you said "Please, I can't go home to my parents like this. What if... What if they hear me?"

Hopper's eyes shot wide open, imagining you in your bedroom after bringing you home, not bothering to take off your skirt before hiding under the covers and sliding your fingers down your body, finishing what your boyfriend had started. He can picture your flexible back arching, eyes shutting as you bite your lip trying to hide your moans, his name accidentally slipping out of your mouth instead of your boyfriend's when you finally finish all over your fingers. And suddenly, Hopper can feel his trousers beginning to tighten, but he cannot let you know you've won him over so quickly. You need to think he's the one in charge.

"Bad girls deserve to be humiliated, whether that be in front of their parents of not. Whose fault is it you snuck out here to have sex with a boy who couldn't make you finish fast enough?" Hopper knew he was crossing a line, knew that if he'd shown up probably a minute late he'd have found you with your orgasm covering Eddie's long fingers. But he hadn't, and he planned on using that to his advantage. You felt your face heating up in degradation at his comment, licking your lips as one of your hands moved to trail up the Chief's chest. "But here I am now with a man who could make me finish. Or, I'm assuming he could." When Hopper didn't answer you, you decided to push just a little further, adding "Could you, Mr. Hopper?"

Your heart was beating adamantly fast at Hopper's silence. He lowered his head closer to yours with a scowl on his face, whispering "That's Chief Hopper to you." His hands tightly gripped your hips, walking forward until your back hit the cold steel of his car. "Now get naked." He spat. You felt the blood drain from your face. Yes, you were getting what you wanted, but you'd expected the chief of Hawkins to have the decency of taking you in the back of his fancy police car, not in the open forest. You gulped as you pulled your skirt down your legs, kicking it off your ankles. Eddie would probably find your panties in his van at some point, you assumed. Pulling the cozy jumper above your head, you shivered at the cool breeze, undoing your bra as your nipples hardened from the cold.

Hands began roaming your body, landing on your hips to quickly spin you around, and pushing you forward so you bent over the hood of the shiny police car. Hopper's hands trailed upwards, sneaking around your torso to find your tits, groping them and tugging harshly at your sensitive nipples. You moaned softly, legs spreading on instinct before a calloused hand was spanking the soft flesh of your ass. Crying out in surprise, you looked over your shoulder to look at Hopper's face, watching at he observed your head-to-toe reactions. "Please Chief" You whimpered, pushing your ass back into his hips, glancing as his eyes shut, thrusting his hips into you as a response. "Want you cock. Please." You begged again, hand roaming behind you to hook onto his belt hoops, pulling him closer to you.

"How fucking needy. This is what happens when you get with someone your own age. Doesn't fucking satisfy you enough, so you end up a slut, begging to be fucked by the Chief of Police." His words were enough to make you moan, but not enough to make you forget about being completely naked in the woods. You sighed impatiently, finally turning back around to face Hopper and throwing yourself onto him, arms wrapping over his shoulders to pull him into your, slamming your lips against his in a desperate kiss. Hopper gasped, arms immediately wrapping around your waist in return, pulling your body impossibly closer to his as he forced his tongue in your mouth, pushing your body back against his car.

Using the support of the car behind you, you hooked a leg over his hip, pushing your hips out to grind against Hopper's boner desperately. "Fuck." He whispered between kisses, tilting his head to the side to deepen the kiss, pressing his tongue against yours. Both his hands moved down to your thighs, pushing his body against yours as he lifted you up without warning, prompting you to wrap your legs against his torso, giving you perfect friction against the tent in his trousers. The rough fabric of his pants had you whining into the kiss, rutting your hips harder against him as you began craving your orgasm.

Pulling away from the kiss, Hopper put a hand on your bare hip, pushing your pelvis away from his as he cursed loudly. "Calm down, let me - fuck." He pressed you harder against the car, balancing you with one arm as his other hand made work to free his dick from his trousers. Eagerly, you helped, taking over and pushing his boxers down to take his heavy cock in your hands. "Fuck, put it in, put it in." You mumbled, allowing Hopper to lift you up higher as you manoeuvred his cock between your folds and into your tight hole. "Oh my god!" You cried, arms wrapping around Hopper's shoulder's once more as he began bouncing you up and down his cock, humping upwards into you to meet your movements.

Digging you face into the crook of the older man's neck, you began leaving kisses there, switching between sucking and nibbling on the sensitive skin to distract you from coming too early. Indeed, Eddie had nearly driven you to your orgasm, but Hopper's giant cock was bringing you there much quicker. You clit rubbed against the pubic hair near Hopper's balls, adding just the little bit of friction you needed. Failing to hold back any longer, you bucked your hips forward, grinding down on Hopper's cock as your legs tightened around his torso, screaming out a moan as your orgasm over took you, body shaking in Hopper's arms.

Cunt clamping down on Hopper's cock, you heard him beginning to curse, thrusts becoming more rapid and inconsistent as he lost his rhythm, his cock burying itself so deep inside you, you could practically feel him grazing your cervix. With a loud grunt, Hopper's movements completely stilled, emptying his thick load inside you. You breathed heavily, running a hand through Hopper's hair, pressing soft kisses on his cheek and jaw before the man pulled away from you, one hand reaching up to squeeze your face, his lips meeting yours in a wet kiss. "Shit." Hopper mumbled as he pulled out of you. You cringed, feeling your thighs get sticky as his cum dripped out of your entrance, legs untangling to stand up properly.

You waited as Hopper gathered your clothes, helping you put your jumper on before diving into his car in search of tissues to wipe his mess off you. He pulled your skirt up your hips, patting your butt a couple of times when he finally turned opened the passenger's door for you. Hopping into the driver's seat, he turned on the engine, beginning the drive home. "Um, Hopper, this isn't the way to my house." You peered at the man, whose hand was searching in his pocket for his wallet before finally tossing it at you.

"I'm driving you to a pharmacy. How much does plan B cost?"

#rainydayathogwarts #stranger things #jim hopper #hopper smut #jim hopper smut #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper fanfic #jim hopper x you #jim hopper x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things fics #eddie x fem!reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson smut

1K notes · View notes

angelicyoongie · 2 months ago

Text

(you're) always on my mind (I)

— pairing: bird hybrid jimin x (f) reader — word count: 5.1k — summary: When your workplace announces that they've decided to promote collaboration between departments, you suddenly find yourself face to face with your sworn nemesis Park Jimin. Your plans to avoid him are quickly foiled as his presence turns the floor into a madhouse, your coworkers all vying for his attention. With so many people at his beck and call, why is it that Jimin is always so insistent on getting in your way?

01 - 02 - 03 / Masterlist

Gentle hums accompany you as you flick through the pages on your desk, highlighting the important keywords in your proposal.

Adjusting the reading glasses that are slipping down your nose, you glance to the side to find Jungkook twirling a pen between his fingers, staring at the same empty email as he has been for the past thirty minutes. Working beside Jungkook for the past three years has given you enough time to learn his cues and grow so accustomed to them that you no longer really notice when they happen.

In the beginning, the humming and singing under his breath would drive insane when you were trying to concentrate but you've since come to appreciate it. Jungkook would have a field day if he knew, but the truth is that you've found yourself missing the constant stream of the current top 10 pop songs on the days he's not in the office.

"Do you need help with the email?" You ask as you flip to another page, tapping the highlighter against your chin as you scan through the words.

The humming – which you've learned Jungkook resorts to whenever he's feeling stressed – is cut off by a groan.

"No, it's fine."

You hear Jungkook clicking his mouse before the screen next to yours goes dark.

"I know that this workshop would improve my skill set but I'm not sure how to convince Mr. Shin of the same thing. For a company that's always pushing improvement and development, they sure hate to invest in it."

"Tell me about it," You let out a quiet snort. "You know I had to beg Mr. Shin for months just let me attend a three-hour seminar the higher-ups had recommended for all the marketing employees."

You see a mop of brown hair fall to the desk in your periphery, Jungkook letting out another upset sound. You give him a half-hearted pat on the back, quickly turning back to your proposal.

"I'm hungry," Jungkook whines.

"And I'm not done yet," You reply as you drag your pen across another important section.

"But it's officially lunchtime–" Jungkook goes silent for a beat as he picks up his phone, staring at the clock until it hits noon on the dot, "- right now! It won't make a difference if you hand in that proposal now or in an hour, you know Mr. Shin never looks at anything until after he's had his lunch."

"I can feel my body growing weaker with every passing second, Y/n, my vision is getting blurry, I can't feel my toes–"

You roll your eyes as Jungkook dramatically slips off his chair, sinking to the floor between your desks. You place your pen down with a sigh, turning your head to find him already staring at you with wide, pleading eyes.

"Are you really that hungry?"

"Starving," Jungkook nods solemnly.

You spare your almost-finished proposal another glance. You know that Jungkook is right but the perfectionist in you hates to leave anything longer than you have to. Still, what difference will an hour make?

"Fine," You concede as you put your pen down, "Let's go get lunch."

Jungkook lets out a victorious sound as he springs to his feet. He barely lets you grab your wallet before he pulls you out of your seat, throwing an arm around your shoulder to steer to toward the elevator before you can change your mind.

"So, what's the special today?" You ask as you both cram yourself into the open elevator, Jungkook's beefy frame providing some extra leeway from the other workers. You truly have no clue how his business casual attire has made it this long without ripping at the seams, you swear he's only getting more muscular with every passing week.

"Pork belly," He gives you a sheepish smile.

"That explains the dramatics," You shake your head, smiling back at him.

You both hurry out of the elevator when it reaches the floor of the cafeteria, not wanting to get stuck in line behind everyone else. You pout as what must be a leopard hybrid slips past you, their natural gait so quick you only really catch sight of the tip of their black tail as they round the corner into the cafeteria. You and Jungkook are just regular old humans, so there is no competition there.

As soon as you both have your food, with Jungkook's plate stacked so high you're worried it might topple over as you make your way through the cafeteria, you scan the crowd for a familiar set of antlers. You give Hoseok a bright smile as you spot him at an empty table, the deer hybrid is always quicker than the two of you to get out of his duties and grab a table.

"There are my overachievers!" Hoseok greets you as you both take a seat. "Lunch started exactly seven minutes ago, why are you so late?"

Jungkook lets out a sigh as he gets comfortable next to Hoseok, his chopsticks already loaded with meat as he says, "Y/n is working on another proposal."

"Ah," Hoseok nods his head as if that explains everything, his reddish-brown hair bobbing along with the motion.

You childishly stick out your tongue, ignoring their laughter as you take a bite of your food. You don't mind their little jabs because you know they're right. You are an overachiever, but that's simply because you like what you do and you take pride in your work. It makes you happy when the ideas you've worked hard on get approved and implemented.

"I do admire your work ethic, Y/n," Hoseok points out as he stuffs a lettuce wrap full of vegetables into his mouth. "I just don't relate. I'm only here for that sweet, sweet paycheck I get at the end of the month."

Jungkook gives Hoseok a high-five.

"Let me guess, you're only here to fund your figurine collection?" You raise an eyebrow, already knowing the answer.

"You know me so well," Jungkook shoots you a finger heart, one you quickly redirect in Hoseok's direction with a swipe of your hand.

Jungkook lets out an affronted gasp as Hoseok snatches it up, clutching his hand to his chest as he mutters, "That's so mean. I'm never going to give you another finger heart ever again."

"That's fine by me, keep them for your waifus," You bicker back.

Jungkook ducks as Hoseok laughs, the deer hybrid's antlers getting dangerously close to his face as Hoseok leans to the side. There's a reason you tend to sit across from Hoseok and not next to him - your reflexes aren't as good as Jungkook's.

Hoseok's giggles taper off into an amused expression as he looks towards the cafeteria entrance, "Hm, there's certainly one person in this company that can relate to your ambitious nature."

You glance over your shoulder, your eyes immediately locking on to the person he was referring to. The other employees in the cafeteria part like the red sea as Park Jimin makes his way through the room, their expressions awed as they take in the hybrid's dashing looks. Today, Jimin's deep dark blue hair is swept to the side, revealing his unblemished skin and pretty features. His large wings are folded behind his back, the blue feathers showing off their purple tint whenever the sun hits them just right. All that to say, you think the most striking part about Jimin might be his violet-colored eyes. There's something about the color that just makes his gaze feel so intense – captivating, almost.

"Come to think of it, the two of you would be perfect for each other!"

Your attention snaps back to Hoseok so fast you hear something in your neck pop. You scowl at him, kicking his shin under the table as you hiss, "Do you secretly hate me or something? Don't ever suggest something like that again."

Hoseok throws his hands up in the air, confused.

"I'm sorry? I just figured you might enjoy being workaholics together, gods know Park is just as bad as you are."

"Hyung," Jungkook shakes his head, "Trust me, you do not want to see the two of them together in the same room. Just based on the tone of the emails they exchanged last year during a project, it's obvious they're not compatible. At all. I thought Y/n was going to break her keyboard in two with how hard she was hitting the keys every time she had to reply to him."

The reminder makes you huff, your chopstick stabbing into a piece of pork belly with vengeance. You had tried to be courteous at first, to collaborate with him in a friendly manner fit for work, but it hadn't taken many exchanges before you realized that Park Jimin didn't deserve that. His emails oozed with cockiness and he always presented his ideas as if they were something you had already agreed on, instead of something to be considered. What you detested the most about that project was that Jimin's proposal was eventually picked over yours. The gloating smile he flashed you during the final meeting still makes your blood boil even now.

"Oh, my bad," Hoseok grimaces, dropping the subject as he takes note of the displeasure on your face.

You sigh, turning to pick up a napkin as your gaze subconsciously seeks out Jimin in the room. He's made his way over to a table with what must be co-workers from his and Hoseok's department, his eyes forming crescent moons as he grins at something that's said.

You don't manage to look away before Jimin glances up and locks eyes with you. His expression turns smug as he catches you staring, his hand reaching out to cover the female employee's fingers that are curled around his arm. He says something that makes her swoon, her loud giggles carrying across the room.

Your stomach sours as you watch them blatantly flirt, annoyed with how Jimin seems to have no decorum in general when it comes to work. Even the company couples know to keep it professional during office hours.

You roll your eyes, turning back to watch Jungkook shovel the last of his meal into his mouth.

With your appetite officially gone, you dap the napkin to your lips, scowling as you say, "I'd rather quit my job than ever work with him again."

Shortly after lunch is over, you finally put the last touches on your proposal, ready to go hand it in. You look over the pages one final time, making sure they're all in order and neatly lined up before you slip them into a clear folder. Just as you place your hands on your desk, ready to push yourself up from your chair, the door to Mr. Shin's office unexpectedly opens.

He claps his hands twice to get the attention of the department, the office falling silent as they all turn their eyes and ears to him.

"Everyone, I require your attention for a moment."

You relax back down into your chair as Mr. Shin walks further into the office, making sure he's visible to all the employees who are scattered around. He glances at his watch, smiling to himself before he explains, "As of last month, it was decided that the company will be testing out a new work system where employees from certain departments will be moved around to promote better in-house collaboration. This will hopefully bring some new and fresh ideas to our projects and we hope to see your creativity and motivation flourish as a result."

"We will be welcoming the top worker from the development department, one I am sure will bring a valuable new perspective to our team. Mr. Park, if you will–"

A terrible feeling settles in the pit of your stomach as Park Jimin strides into the room, a perfectly pleasant smile painted on his deceitful face as he takes his place next to Mr. Shin. Jimin takes his time looking around the room, sharing smiles and soft greetings with the workers closest to him. His violet eyes seem to zero in on you when he finds your desk on the other side of the office, the wings behind his back ruffling slightly. You can only assume it means that he's as annoyed as you are to be sharing the same department.

You can feel your lips twisting into a scowl as you glance back at Mr. Shin, the older man smiling so brightly at Jimin you would almost think he hung the sun in the sky every morning.

"Wonderful! As you know, we have a new big project coming up and I previously asked you all to submit your proposals for how we should best promote this new venture. Although I'm sure you've all been working hard on your ideas so far, I can tell you now that you may scratch that task off your list."

You suck in a small breath, your fingers tightening around the folder in your grip. There's no way Mr. Shin has done something so unfair, it must be about something different–

"Mr. Park had a fantastic proposal, one I believe will take this project to new heights, so I would like to announce that his ideas have been chosen and that we are all in good hands with this new addition to our team."

Your gaze involuntarily flickers back to Jimin as applause breaks out in the office. The bird hybrid doesn't seem to have looked away from you at all and that self-assured, cocky smile blooms on his lips as he no doubt sees the defeat on your face.

You don't think you've ever despised a person more than you do Park Jimin.

Jimin's taunting eyes are momentarily blocked from view as Mr. Shin goes to shake his hand, the rest of the office using it as their opportunity to go greet (or flirt with) their new team member. You look away, finding Jungkook staring at you with a slightly horrified expression.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I really didn't think that hour would make a difference," He pleads.

"It's not your fault, this must've already been decided a few days ago," You answer, trying your best to keep the annoyance out of your voice. Jungkook didn't do anything wrong after all.

With a sigh, you throw away your proposal, already knowing you're going to have to pick up a bottle of wine on the way home to keep yourself in check. Crying all night over a wasted proposal is out of the question, especially since you know Jimin would probably gloat about it if he ever found out.

"But if you do feel bad, I wouldn't mind something from your stash," You pout.

Jungkook scrambles to open his secret candy drawer, the one he always keeps locked whenever he steps away from his desk. For a man who works out so religiously, he sure has a terrible sweet tooth.

You give him a soft thank you as he hands you one of your favorite bars of chocolate.

You sink in your chair, biting into the bar in hopes that the sweet taste will overpower some of the bitterness coating your tongue as you hear Jimin's airy laughter fill the room, the hybrid already more at home than you've ever felt in this department.

Tapping your foot, you internally groan over how slow the office printer is spitting out your papers.

Your day already got off on the wrong foot. Turns out that drinking a whole bottle of wine by yourself was a bad idea on a weekday and it was with a splitting headache that you had to get dressed in a rush and sprint to get to your commute on time. With no time left for coffee before having to clock in, you've been left to nurse your pounding head down to a dull ache with just some water and aspirin graciously provided to you by Jungkook.

Safe to say, you're not having a good time today.

So, it comes as no surprise that the printer suddenly decides to jam, the machine whirling loudly as it tries to unclog the stuck paper.

"Fuck, you have to be kidding me," You curse under your breath as you give the machine a frustrated kick. Could your day get any worse?

"Careful, Y/n, or I might have to report you to HR for destruction of property."

The sound of Park Jimin's voice right behind you makes you jump, your surprise causing you to whirl around so fast your own feet can't keep up. Jimin grabs your arm as you stumble back, his hold just enough to keep you from crashing right into the printer.

"Shit, I didn't mean to startle you. Are you okay?"

It's the genuine worry in Jimin's voice that makes you glance at his face, his delicate features twisted with concern as he looks you over. You find yourself a little dumbstruck seeing Jimin up close for the first time, the words not leaving your mouth as you take all of him in. His violet eyes feel endless as you look into them, the darker hues around his iris creating an absolutely mesmerizing color. As Jimin shifts his weight, you notice for the first time that there are a few scattered feathers slicked back with the rest of his hair. The texture is just slightly noticeable nestled between his blue locks, the color just as deep as his wings.

It's the sound of hushed murmurs that remind you of where you are, your arm still securely held in Jimin's warm grip. It's impossible to glance over Jimin's shoulder with how high the curve of his wings are, but a quick look around them confirms that you're being watched by two female employees. The pair of them have been following Jimin around all day, disrupting your workflow with their high-pitched giggles whenever he spared them an ounce of attention.

It's obvious that they're not happy that Jimin is talking to you and not them. So yes, it turns out that your day could, in fact, get worse. You have no intention of attracting their ire and certainly not because of Park Jimin.

"I'm fine," You reply, shaking off his hand, "I'll go call IT for help."

Jimin's feathers rustle uneasily as you move to walk back to your desk, his gaze traveling between you and the printer before his face suddenly lights up.

"There's no need for that, Y/n, I'll fix it for you."

The cocky smile he sends you way makes a shiver travel down your spine, the spot on your arm still warm from where he held it. To Jimin's credit, he does seem to know what he's doing. It only takes a minute of him opening a panel before the printer stops complaining and whirls back to life, the rest of your papers slowly being pumped out onto the tray at the other end.

Jimin dusts his hand off, smiling proudly as he says, "There you go."

You collect your papers as the last one gets spit out, very aware that Jimin hasn't made a move to go back to his desk yet. You turn to face him, sighing internally as you see the expectant look on his face.

"... Thank you," You tersely say.

Jimin's chest seems to puff out a little at that. His expression turns smug as he leans in a little closer, the tone of his voice flirtatious as he asks, "If you're feeling thankful, maybe you can buy me lunch? I would be more than happy to accept."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Of course, you should've known that his ulterior motive would be to humiliate you more. You'd bring him to lunch and then what? He would probably talk your ear off about how much better he is and how his proposal was picked over yours – that he's more qualified for your job than you are.

You give him an unimpressed look back, gesturing to the two whispering employees as you say, "I'll pass. It seems your fan club is waiting for you and more than willing to buy you all the food your heart desires."

Walking off before Jimin can reply, you ignore the dirty looks the women send you as you pass them by, your sights set on your desk.

It turns out that today might be a perfect day for checking out that café Jungkook found on the other side of town, after all.

With each passing day, you're becoming more and more confident that the universe is out to get you.

It's only been a week since Jimin was transferred to your department but somehow, it has felt like a year. The hybrid is always within your line of sight and the gaggle of people following him around are really starting to disrupt your work and get on your nerves. Not even Jungkook's gentle singing is enough to drown out the constant hushed gossip and giggles echoing across the floor anymore.

You sink into your chair with a sigh, vexed by how you couldn't even escape Jimin's presence in the bathroom. The other women washing their hands and touching up their makeup couldn't stop gushing about how handsome and sweet and utterly kind he was – you almost felt a little bad that they had been so fooled by his faux persona.

Cunning and infuriating would be much more fitting adjectives to describe him with.

"I think you got an email earlier," Jungkook mumbles, his eyes set on his computer screen. His brows are furrowed with concentration as he types out his workshop request. It seems that with Mr. Shin's increasingly happy mood now that Jimin's around, Jungkook has decided he might as well try to get it approved.

"Thanks."

You click on the blinking icon at the corner of your screen, and a tiny flash of hope surges through you as you notice the sender. Maybe Mr. Shin changed his mind about Jimin's proposal, or maybe he has something else for you to work on, something that will take you far, far away from the office–

Disbelief quickly crushes that sliver of hope as you read through Mr. Shin's email. He wants you to help Jimin. Apparently, some of the preliminary ideas you submitted to your supervisor ahead of your proposal would be a great asset to the new project, and Mr. Shin believes that sharing them with Jimin will strengthen the department's teamwork.

Grinding your teeth, you find the old files and send them to print, holding yourself back from writing an unsavory reply that would most definitely get you fired. You can't believe you're being asked to help the enemy, the same man who snubbed you of the chance to even hand in your proposal in the first place.

"I don't want to interact with him," You groan, rubbing your forehead.

"Who?" Jungkook asks.

"Who do you think?" You deadpan, giving his chair a light kick.

"Well–" Jungkook lifts his glance away from his screen, craning his neck to peer over the divider. "He's not at this desk right now so if you hurry, you won't have to talk to him at all."

You didn't notice it before, but the office has been suspiciously quiet for the past ten minutes, completely void of the hushed giggles that seem to accompany Jimin. Following Jungkook's lead, you slowly get out of your seat, glancing around the floor to make sure the hybrid is nowhere in sight.

Finding everything clear, you hurry over to the printer, thankful that it has decided to cooperate for once. Grabbing your papers, you beeline for Jimin's desk, hoping to drop them off and get out of there as quickly as possible. Just as you're about to slam the papers down and be done with it, the state of Jimin's desk freezes you in your tracks.

Everything is blue. All the supplies that could possibly be personalized – his pens, sticky notes, keyboard, mouse, even a small potted plant – are all in varying shades of blue. You can only deduce that it's a hybrid thing, something that has to do with his specific species. Or, well, maybe he just really likes blue. Either way, it's certainly not what you were expecting.

It's the ding of the elevator announcing its arrival that snaps you back into motion, the sound of flirty laughter carrying into the office as its doors begin to open. You hastily leave the files on the side of his desk, careful not to disturb the placement of his things before scurrying back to your side of the department floor. You take your seat just as Jimin waltzes back into the office, the usual group of women and men following him around.

"You'd think he was a god or something," You roll your eyes.

Jungkook shrugs his shoulders, way too nonchalant as he says, "I mean, he is handsome enough to be one."

You turn to look at him, raising an eyebrow as you say, "Jeon Jungkook, did you just compliment the enemy?"

Jungkook gives you a sheepish smile in return, flicking the ends of his hair as he replies, "Beauty recognizes beauty, Y/n, it can't be helped."

"You're right," You smile, all sweet, "I guess it also can't be helped that I now only have one friend in this company. But since Hoseok doesn't enjoy meat, I guess I'll just how to throw out all of the delicious cuts I got for our monthly dinner tomorrow – what a shame."

"Wait, Y/n!–" Jungkook scrambles in his chair, dragging himself closer to your desk. "I was just joking, you know that right? Please don't throw away the meat."

You stare him down for a second, narrowing your eyes before turning back to your screen. "We'll see."

Despite your less-than-great eyesight, even you know that Jungkook is right. It pains you to admit it, but Jimin is beautiful. Even so, Jungkook should know not to praise that handsome, winged demon right in front of you.

So, you ignore Jungkook's puppy eyes in favor of your work, giving him a taste of the betrayal you just felt. You can never feign being upset with him for long but ten minutes?

That you can do.

Though, you suppose you should have known that Jungkook wouldn't let you get away with threatening his precious meat.

"Jungkook–"

You roll your eyes as Jungkook's pout deepens, his head turning away from you dramatically.

"I'm sorry, okay? I'll never joke around about pork belly ever again."

"Do you promise?" He huffs.

Jungkook only turns to look at you once you promise that yes, you'll never do something like that ever again. His sunny demeanor is back the moment the words leave your lips, proving once again that you were right when you introduced him to Hoseok as a master manipulator. It's impossible to not feel like a monster when those doe eyes are staring at you with all the sadness in the world.

You slowly begin to pack up your things as Jungkook chatters away about a new anime he's found, doing your usual steps as you log off and power down your computer. Just as you're about to clock out for the day, you hear your name being called from the other side of the floor. Getting out of your seat, you see Mr. Shin waving you over to his office, signaling that he wants to talk to you.

"You should go ahead," You tell Jungkook as you leave your packed bag and coat at your desk. "I don't know how long this is going to take but I'll text you once I'm done."

"I'm holding you to that!" Jungkook wags his finger.

You wave Jungkook goodbye for the day as you cross the floor, taking a deep breath to calm your sudden nerves. As you reach Mr. Shin's office, you softly clear your throat, pulling on your clothes to make sure you look presentable before knocking on his door.

"Come in."

You open the door as you hear Mr. Shin's muffled voice telling you to enter, the pleasant smile on your face faltering just the slightest as you notice that Park Jimin is already present.

"Sir, you called for me?"

Mr. Shin waves you closer to his desk, gesturing for you to take the seat next to Jimin. You keep your eyes forward, not daring to look at the hybrid lest you accidentally pull a face.

"Ah yes, it's about the new project. We reviewed the suggestions you proposed and decided that they would complement Park's ideas very well. With the spirit of department teamwork in mind, Mr. Park proposed that you would both work together on this project, sharing the responsibility."

"Oh, that's.." You trail off, not quite sure what to say. This was not what you envisioned when you entered the room.

You turn your head to look at Jimin, the bird hybrid sporting an unreadable expression. You can't tell if he's upset with the news or not – you can't imagine Park would be thrilled to be forced to spend time with you – but wait, did your supervisor say that–

"You asked for me?"

"Of course," Jimin nods, "It wouldn't be right to use your ideas without you on the team."

There's no trace of the usual cockiness you've come to associate with Jimin, nor any of that flirty demeanor. To your surprise, Jimin appears to be fully serious for once.

"Right," You reply, at a loss for words. This was a twist you had not seen coming.

"So, what do you say Miss Y/n? Would you like to collaborate with Mr. Park on this project?"

Frankly, working with Jimin is the last thing you want to do. But the fact that your ideas will be implemented in the project no matter if you're there to take credit for it or not, is what convinces you to jump head first into what's surely going to become your own personal hell for the next few months.

You spare Jimin another glance, plastering on your best smile as you inform Mr. Shin that,

"I would love to, thank you for giving me this opportunity."

The bird hybrid's chest puffs out minutely at your agreement, that sly smile returning to his lips.

You have no doubt that he has an ulterior motive for including you in his project. But no matter what Jimin decides to throw at you – you sure as hell won't be going down without a fight.

a/n: welcome to this silly little fic! i've been wanting to write something more lighthearted for a while so this felt like the perfect story to do just that 💖 will the mc and jimin survive being stuck together for a project?? only time will tell (actually, you'll know in a few weeks lol)!

i would love to hear your thoughts so far and reblogs are very much appreciated 💖

#bts x reader #jimin x reader #hybrid au #office au #enemies to lovers #rivals to lovers #hybrid jimin #hybrid bts #bts au #jimin au

496 notes · View notes

0mg-bird · 6 months ago

Text

Lover’s Rock~ S. Reid

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Spencer isn’t the only one that stands out in the crowd, but maybe that’s a good thing, because that’s what leads him to you.

Warnings: I didn’t really proof read, I’ll do it later lol. 18+ content towards the end. Um Reid is such a dweeb and adorable???? Fluff, mentions of alcohol and embarrassment. Reader is so twee (can we bring twee back or no?) idk she makes questionable fashion choices.

Really, this wasn’t your thing.

The bar scene, the club dresses all the girls where, the high heels and the whole game of cat and mouse that all the guys want to play. But you’re here, you made an effort to appease your best friends who claim you have no social life.

The entire night so far, they watched you strike out with the guys they motioned over because in their mind, you’re desperate and lonely and lame.

Okay, maybe that’s more of your headspace than theirs, but they’ve been offering you pity glances this whole time.

You’ve made a decision a while ago that maybe there was no romance out there for you. You were just born with some aspect that made normal, sane guys physically run away, and maybe that’s fine. You were really good on your own. And it never did feel right when you had a guy, if it didn’t feel like the movies, it wasn’t worth it.

Right?

Okay, maybe you should settle, at some point, you’ll be too old to marry and you’ll just keep working, with no real life and take care of Shelly, your goldfish. Maybe it won’t be perfect, but it’ll be someone to share things with.

You let out a huff and watch the ice melt in your drink, not bothering to smile when your friend tells you to brighten up.

Normally, you’re a ray of sunshine, but something about getting rejected four consecutive times is raining on your parade.

An entire bar full of happy people in their element, and it’s just you, sticking out like a sore thumb, especially when your friends go dance with a few guys they hit it off with.

Too busy looking at the buckle on the ankle strap of your heel, you are sinking somewhere in your mind, to a place where you aren’t listening to cheap song lyrics of and realizing that table is stickier than you thought.

“Where’s Reid?”

“Reid.”

“Spencer!” Penelope smacks his shoulder, pulling him from the trance of his eyes on the book pages.

He looks up from the corner booth, seeing his team has returned with drinks.

“Are you seriously reading right now?” Morgan criticizes, placing a beer in front of the younger agent.

Spencer doesn’t know why he does this, beer tastes like a plowed hay field in his opinion. But he takes the drink in gratitude and before he can explain that he was just trying to finish the Russian publishing of ‘Crime and Punishment’, Morgan rips the book from his hands and tosses it to Emily for safe keeping.

“I- what was that for?” Spencer questions with a unjust squeak, feeling rather sad.

“Look around, kid, do you see how many fine ladies are here? You don’t need to be sitting here with your nose between the pages of Little Women.” Morgan states as a matter of fact.

“Yeah, nobody puts baby in the corner.” Penelope agrees.

With an airy scoff, Spencer looks to the other members for help, but they all seem to side with Derek.

He gains a defeated frown.

Spencer didn’t want to be here in the first place, now he’s being forced out into the public to socialize. There has to be a law against this, he knows there’s not because he knows everything, but he is certainly going to try and create one.

“Oh come on, Spence, why don’t you try to get a date?” JJ asks, meaning well, but the laugh that comes from Emily makes him want to recoil.

“C’mon, I’ll help you.” Morgan offers, pulling him from the booth seat.

“Yeah, that never really works well when you try to be my wingman, you usually end up with all the phone numbers.” Spencer claims, pressing his lips into a line.

But like some mock savior, Morgan stands behind Reid as they wait by the bar.

“What about her?” Morgan would point out.

To which Reid would respond with some variation of ‘she’s too much’ or ‘she definitely has a boyfriend three times my size’.

After fifteen minutes of this back and forth, Morgan is seriously regretting he forced the hermit out of his shell.

And that’s when a rowdy group finally leaves and clears the path of vision to you.

Still sat at a high table with one leg crossed over the other, you wiggle your foot as you doodle on a drink napkin.

Reid misses whatever Morgan says, and in that air of silence, the agent follows the vision.

“Okay, now we’re getting somewhere.” Derek chuckles, clapping Reid on the shoulder. “She’s pretty. Go talk to her.”

“What?” Reid looks away. “No, no, I don’t want to disturb her.”

You let out a very bored sigh.

Derek’s brows furrow. “I know you’re some boy genius but you really are dumb sometimes. Everything about that girl is screaming ‘put me outa my misery’.”

Spencer tilts his head slightly, watching you rub your eye and then frown at the way you smudged your already smudged eye liner.

“Okay, maybe you’re right.” He nods. “But…what do I say?”

Derek grins. “Compliment her, ask if she wants another drink, strike up a conversation. It’s easy, man.”

Spencer gets an uneasy feeling in him, but he still braves through it. “Easy for you, maybe.” He mumbles before running a hand through his hair and takes a step towards you.

“Go get her, tiger!” Morgan encourages.

When he returns to the team with the happy news, Penelope asks if Spencer’s gonna do good.

“Oh, definitely not, we’ll be lucky if he doesn’t trip over his own feet on the way over there.” Derek answers, laughing.

But Spencer makes it to you without a stumble, yet his whole plan leaves his mind when he gets to you.

You’re gorgeous, too pretty for him.

“Nice legs.”

Did he just say that?

You look up at him upon hearing his voice, your wide eyes confused.

“I’m sorry?” You question, not sure if you heard this stranger correctly.

He’s a rather handsome stranger.

“No- I mean I like your legs- tights! Not your legs, you have nice legs of course but that’s not- your tights are nice- cool! Different?”

Oh god, he should just walk away now. He’s already messed this whole thing up and surely you think he’s an idiot.

While he’s got an embarrassed look on his face, you look down at the red lace tights you wear under your skirt, something your friends questioned as a fashion choice.

“You really like them?” You ask, voice soft to his ears.

He stops his rambling.

“Yeah, of course I do, I think they’re cool.” He smiles softly.

You can’t help but grin bashfully.

“Every guy I’ve talked to tonight thought they were a little weird, but that’s okay, I kinda like weird.” You admit, watching as he shakes his head.

“People say my socks are weird all the time, don’t feel bad.” He comforts, pulling the material of his pants up so you can see his mismatched socks with funky colors and prints on them.

“Those are cool.” Your approval eases him, giving him just enough reassurance that you aren’t going to scream for help in the next two minutes.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid- sorry, force of habit, uh, just Spencer. I-I’m Spencer.” He introduces with the smallest of wave.

Still smiling more than you have the entire night, you greet him. He repeats your name like it has some special meaning, and you’ve never loved the sound of it more.

“I was going to get a drink, what are you having?” He asks, looking at your sweating glass. “Vodka soda? Cherry sour?”

You blush. “It’s actually a shirley temple…I just ate all the cherries out of it already.”

Without hesitation, he nods. “Okay, I’ll be back.”

He leaves you at your table, and then your brief moment of sunshine is clouded once more by doubt. What if he doesn’t come back? What if he drugs your drink and then you wake up in an alley somewhere, missing your wallet and phone and your tights that he thinks are so cool?

This was a bad idea. Dating isn’t for you. He seemed so nice and he’s so attractive but that should have been your first red flag and-

Oh. He’s coming back.

With two shirley temples.

He places them on the table and waits for you to grab one, then he grabs the other and takes a sip.

“You mind if I sit?” He asks.

Feeling a little silly for assuming he was out to maim you, you nod.

“I seriously doubt my friends remember I’m over here, so feel free to stay.” You joke at your expense.

He sits across from you, sparing a glance over his shoulder at his team who make it very obvious that they’re staring.

You study his profile, a shaggy haircut that falls across his forehead, all tousled in an effortless way. His jaw line is defined, round brown eyes that flick back to you. When he catches you looking, he grins once more.

It’s never been so…easy, having a ‘get to know you’ conversation. Questions come without second thoughts, you find yourself laughing, actually laughing.

Playing with your straw, you try to calm your facial expressions, your cheeks are starting to hurt from beaming so much.

“So, Dr. Reid, huh?” You ask, making him let out a small huff of embarrassment.

“That’s what the PhD’s say, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, suddenly feeling really dorky about his immense amount of education.

It’s not dorky to you. Every guy you’ve talked to tonight dropped out of community college because ‘it didn’t align with their career paths’ of selling protein smoothies or working in some ‘underground’ record store.

But here Spencer is, explaining he’s on the behavioral analysis unit for the FBI and he tells you about all the degrees he has. All you can think about as he talks of universities and the academy is, knowledge is such a sexy look on a guy. Sure, you’ve never really liked the underachieving stoners, but usually you’ve been with guys who seem to say “you like school?” when you talk about working towards your Masters degree.

“Wow.” Is all you can say for a moment, clearly shocked and, well, impressed. “I really wasn’t expecting that.”

“That’s what most people say.” He nods, picking the cherry in his drink out by the stem and offering it to you.

By your thankful eyes batting up at him, he’s tempted on going behind the bar and bringing you all the maraschino cherries they have. He quickly turns the conversation around to focus on you so he can focus on something other than the stained color on your lips.

“What about you? What do you do?” He asks.

Compared to his job, yours seems too normal, too mundane. You almost want to avoid the question, never once have you been unsatisfied with your career but now you can’t help it. What if Spencer doesn’t like you because you don’t work for NASA?

That’s ridiculous, because to Spencer, your job makes his adoration grow.

“Oh, I’m just a teacher.” You say, fiddling with a stem in your mouth.

Spencer gains a soft smile. “You could never just be a teacher, teacher’s are important. Well, unless you’re a sucky teacher.”

His joke earns a bubbly giggle and he decides he’d like to hear that sound forever. It’s moments like this that he’s glad to have an eidetic memory.

“I don’t think I’m a sucky teacher so that’s good, my students seem to like me.” You state, pushing your hair behind your ear and dropping the knotted stem onto a napkin.

Spencer finds himself leaning a little closer, body naturally gravitating to your pull. “What do you teach?” He asks.

“I work for my schools gifted children program, so I basically teach kid geniuses advanced core curriculum because they’ve tested out of their normal classes.” You chuckle, oblivious to the way Spencer’s heart warms.

He remains quiet for a bit too long, just staring at you with an honest look, one that makes you feel like you’re turned inside out and bared for him. The panic rises again, you think you must have said something to ruin it.

“I know it’s nothing special-” You begin to say.

“No.” He interrupts, a sure tone. “I-I think it’s great. Really, that’s not an easy job.”

Deep breath out, you’re put at ease.

“I constantly have imposter syndrome, these kids are twelve and bringing up philosophies and mathematical formulas I have to go home and study because I haven’t even learned them yet. Honestly, sometimes I don’t even think they need me there.” You joke lightly, half meaning it but masking that slight insecurity by finishing off your drink.

“They need you.” Spencer assures, an expression showing he’s never been more sure of something. “Believe me, you’re probably the only person they see in a school day that understands them.”

Brows creased, you shake your head, holding his rather intimidating gaze for such puppy dog eyes.

“What makes you so sure?” You question.

Spencer takes in a breath. “Because I know what it’s like to be twelve years old and telling a grown adult about Fermat’s Last Theorem.”

Sometimes, the world has a funny way of putting two people together. For years, you’ve wandered through life and on a random Friday night, feeling a little flushed from the Summer air, here is Spencer Reid, the man of your dreams.

Your friends left some time ago after you assured them you were fine to be left at the place you were just complaining about being. You don’t mind being left with Spencer, in fact, you’re dreading the time you have to go home because it means this moment is over.

“I really would like to live in New York.” You exclaim, somehow have fallen into the rabbit hole of dreams for the future.

“New York’s really cool!” He agrees. “Did you know that they have a homicide rate of 4.48 percent right now? It’s been declining since the nineties.”

You must make some sort of surprised face because his eyes go wide and he quickly tried to recover his odd statement.

“Sorry, my job isn’t really full of happy statistics. But mostly we just find dead prostitutes in alleys in New York.”

His blushed cheeks make your heart flutter in its beats.

“I’m glad I’m not a prostitute.” You giggle, making him chew his bottom lip for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not either.”

By the time the team gets their coats back on with the intention of heading home, they look across the room to see their quirky doctor friend is partaking in very friendly body language.

“Oh my god, look at him.” Emily laughs. “He’s finally using that big IQ of his.”

Penelope, who comes to hold onto Morgan’s arm, grins rather proudly. “It’s like a butterfly finally coming out of its cocoon. It’s…beautiful, actually.”

Derek laughs down at her. “I think that last long island ice tea was a bad idea. Come on, baby, let’s get you home.”

“Good luck, my fine friend.” She calls in the general direction of you and Spencer, but the two of you don’t notice.

JJ ties her hair up and starts to take a few steps forward.

“Where are you going?” Penelope questions.

“To let him know we’re leaving?”

“No!” The team seems to exclaim, all shouting that she cannot disturb the moment Spencer worked rather hard to get to.

She just holds her hands up in defense, then follows after Emily as they leave the bar.

Spencer of course notices the way Prentiss leaves him with an encouraging thumbs up. It makes his get a little bashful, but he nods a goodbye and watches the door shut once more. His attention is brought back to his hand on the table, well, more to the way your pinky brushes against his. You continue to talk about mutual interests and what your apartment in New York would look like, a slight ramble to you that shows you’re very aware of the slight contact.

With some kind of placebo courage he can’t even blame on alcohol, he lets his fingers crawl between yours like that’s where they belong.

The team would definitely laugh at this teenage display, but to the both of you, it’s the perfect amount of reassurance, soft enough to not be too scary.

The attraction is there, Spencer forces himself to profile it just so his negative thoughts can’t prove him wrong. You’re smiling at every word, your eyes seem to stay dilated and focused on his, and he isn’t sure if you even realize the way your heel brushes his ankle every so often.

His profile, often never wrong, is what helps him reach across the slight space to tuck your hair behind your ear so casually as he tells you about his minuscule music taste.

After a few flirty comments, you force yourself yo look away from him just so you can het your breathing under control. Upon this action, you read the watch on his wrist and a frown sets on your lipstick stained lips.

“I should go home before it’s too late to walk.” You sigh, not wanting this moment to end.

He nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Those round eyes he’s starting to really adore look up at him and you chew your lip, almost like you’re waiting for him to do something. Say something.

It takes him entirely too long to figure out what to do. Morgan would be ashamed.

“C-Can I walk you home?” He asks in a rush and in eagerness.

You nod like that’s the best idea you’ve ever heard.

That’s how it leads to you leaning against him like it’s something you do often, walking in step as you ramble on and on about what you have to do to get your classroom ready for the new school year. He listens without annoyance like most guys would, then tells you about books he has that he thinks you might enjoy, books he could part with so you could give them to the students whose reading levels are above what the school provides.

He’s so caring and considerate, making sure he walks closest to the street, lets you be off in your own world and makes sure you don’t run into anything as you constantly gaze up at him. All the way to your building and up the stairs to your apartment door, the two of you are as comfortable with each other like two old friends would be.

That’s what makes your head spin. You just met Spencer and already feel like he’s been in your life for hundreds of years.

You pull your keys from your purse, you unlock the door but don’t make a move to open it.

“I’m really, really, happy that I met you.” You whisper to him as he slightly crowds your space in the door way.

“I am too.” He agrees, heart beating a little faster as your hand presses gently to his chest.

Don’t be crazy, you just met her, she doesn’t want a stranger trying to kiss her, tell her good night, call her tomorrow, maybe you can plan for something next weekend-

His thoughts don’t stand a chance when you wrap your fingers around his tie and gently tug him to your lips.

It’s smooth and warm and has your eyes shutting and your lungs exhaling. His gentle hand cradles your face while the other flexes against your hip.

It just feels so…

So right.

With the slight tilt of your head, the goodnight kiss deepens, you’re molded against him.

His lips part, coaxing yours to do the same, and the feeling of your tongue against his has you slightly teetering backwards. You lean against the door for support, hands roaming into his hair.

You’ve been wanting to run your hands through it all night.

He’s desperate in his movements, like he’s a starved man and you’re enjoying every second of it. His thumb runs over your jaw, you’re pushing away any space between you.

When you decide you’re going to pass out from the lack of oxygen, you pull away, sucking your bottom lip to savor the taste. Spencer still holds your face in his large hands and matches your shallow pants.

It’s all so much. You’re hot, brain a little foggy, but still so sure of this situation.

And you soon find yourself saying something you’ve never ever said after just meeting a guy.

“Do you want to come inside?”

Spencer seriously thinks he misheard you.

“Yeah- yes. Yes, I do.” He nods.

A laugh escapes your lips, one he swallows up as he embraces you once more, trying to help you open the door. His arm around your waist makes sure you don’t stumble and fall as the two of you finally get inside.

He looks around the space. “I like your apartment, it’s nice.”

“Thank you.” You mumble against his lips, pulling at your jean jacket and tossing it to the couch.

It’s dark, causing you to back into a side table. The both of you laugh, but neither of you bother to reach for the light switch.

You guid him towards your bedroom, pushing him through the ajar door. The open window leaves the room painted in a low light, the breeze is cool as you clumsily fall onto the mattress with him.

“I never do this.” You state, a huff leaving your lips as he rolls you onto your back.

“I don’t either.” He agrees, mouth wandering down your jaw to your neck.

You fiddling hands make a home in his hair. “Like I really don’t do this. I don’t even go to bars, let alone take home strange men- not that you’re strange. But don’t think I am a casual hookup girl, because I’m not, I just- there’s a connection, right? I’m not alone in this?”

He pulls away, looking down at you with a loopy grin. “You’re rambling, that’s a sign of nervousness.”

“I am nervous!” You exclaim with a breathy laugh. “You’re just…you’re really great.”

His thumb traces your bottom lip. “You’re really great too.” He whispers. “But we don’t have to do anything.”

“No!” You say a little too boldly. “I mean, no, no I want this. Do you want this?”

With a nod, he assures you. “I want this too.”

Maybe you should be more shy and self conscious about this, but when he’s being so kind, all your nervousness leaves. The two of you stumble through the awkward bits with laughter and jokes, and it makes you realize that something so serious doesn’t have to be so uniform.

Really, you’re having more fun than you’ve ever had.

“Spencer?” You gasp, dangerously close to falling off the bed at how the two of you have rolled around.

“Yeah?” He asks, head buried in your neck, trying not to get too ahead of himself as he continues his deep pace between your legs.

“You’re kinda pulling my hair.”

Immediately he moves his hand, apologetic.

Hands dragging up his chest, you try to shimmy away from the mattress ledge. Spencer notices the tragedy that’s about to strike, opting to back off of you completely so you can readjust.

You gasp at the loss of contact. “A little warning next time would be appreciated.”

“Sorry, sorry.” He stammers, gripping you in a feverish way, mouth back to yours.

You don’t exactly know how you ended up on top, but you look at him slightly frightened eyes.

“Is this a no?” He questions, only concerned with making you comfortable.

He’s the complete opposite of selfish, he proved that the second he started you off with his tongue against your core.

“No, not if you like this? I just…I don’t know if I’m good at this.”

He nods in understanding. “Okay, no problem.”

You protest as he goes to move you. “Can I try? Will-will you help me?”

God, he could marry you.

“Yeah, of course sweetheart.” He whispers, kissing you gently.

The butterflies in your stomach are all twitter pated.

Or maybe you’re just extremely turned on.

Spencer is a great teacher, it’s you who jumps the gun at things.

“There you go, angel, slow.” He breathes in your ear, finger tips pressing into your hips as you slowly push down, letting his tip enter you. “Just go really slow, okay?”

You try to do as he says, easing him into you slowly, but by some urge to rush satisfaction, you sink all the way onto him without warning.

“Fuck! That wasn’t slow.” He grits, a hoarse moan escaping from the back of his throat, his grip on you almost bruising.

“S-sorry.” You try to say, but the sheer pressure you feel at this sudden angle has you shuddering and crying out softly. “I’m an overachiever.” You try to joke.

“Holy shit, you want an A+ or something?” He chuckles, trying to calm himself down, running through mathematical formulas in his head so he doesn’t finish just like this.

“Spence, I need- it’s a lot, I need-” You whine out, not having the heart to feel embarrassed for sounding so needy.

“I know, I know. Fuck, do you have any idea how good you feel?” He questions, swallowing hard as he guides your hips forward slightly.

“I can’t really think at all when you’re sitting in my cervix right now.” You claim, quickly overwhelmed by pleasure as you find a rhythm against him.

Sucking on your throat, he mutters something you don’t care to listen to.

“This is- is it supposed to be this good?” You moan, trying not to dig your finger nails into his shoulders.

“I think we just fit perfectly.”

With each movement, you become more comfortable and confident, soon that friendly softness is replaced by lustful roughness. Through it all, Spencer remains caring, even when you tell him he can be a little rough with you.

Never in your sex life have you wanted more and more, even when it finishes.

Even after the two of you can’t find the strength to pull any more orgasms from each other, you lay beside each other, Spencer hasn’t bothered to pull out of you yet, perhaps he’s too spent.

“So.” You clear your throat, tracing his features. “How do you want to play this?”

He hums, dragging his fingers up and down your side. “What do you mean?”

“Guys usually leave after this stuff, right?”

His brows furrow, anxiety comes to ripple through him. “Do you want me to leave?”

Staring at his tired eyes, you shake your head. “No, I want you to stay. Forever. I’m thinking about chaining you to the headboard.”

He chuckles. “I’ll save you the effort, I will gladly stay.”

A sweet smile is returned to him.

At some point, the two of you clean up and fall asleep the second the sheets are pulled over you.

Spencer is convinced it’s all a dream until he wakes up to the sun warm over his skin. He rubs his blurry eyes and rolls over in the bed that is not his, met with your bare back. Slowly, he reaches for you, kissing your shoulder to rouse you.

His phone, still in the pocket of his discarded pants, rings again and again, forcing him to retrieve it in his boxers.

Of course it’s Hotch.

Of course he needs to get to the office. On a Saturday. After the night he just had.

“I should call the authorities, there’s a cute intruder in my room.” Your sleepy voice says from bed. “Oh wait…you are the authorities.”

He likes the way you can make yourself giggle.

“I have bad news.” He says, tracking down his clothes. “My boss just called me in.”

He hates the frown you have.

“That’s a very unfortunate thing.” You nod.

He buttons his pants, then slides his shirt on as he comes to your bedside.

“I should get going so I can go home and change.”

His warm hand presses to your cheek.

You turn to kiss his palm. “Is this goodbye?”

“No. Definitely no.” He assures. “I’ll call when I can, okay? Maybe we can get dinner or something?”

You could sigh heavenly at the way he’s just so dreamy.

“That sounds nice. I’d kiss you but I might have morning breath.” You smile.

He kisses you anyway.

And after leaving the team waiting in the round table room, he appears refreshed and in a very good mood.

He takes his seat, all eyes on him.

“Sorry I’m late, good morning.” He clears his throat.

“Good morning indeed.” Morgan chuckles, sliding him a cup of coffee.

“You okay, Reid?” Rossi asks, eyeing the agent.

“I’m great.” He smiles.

“Is that a hickey?” JJ exclaims, reveling in the way he quickly grabs for his neck, only to realize she’s joking.

“Real mature.” He mutters, knowing the entire day is going to be jokes made at his expense.

He doesn’t mind though, not when he knows his reward for all of this is you.

#spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

851 notes · View notes

bones-of-a-rabbit · 2 years ago

Text

I FORGOT I DOODLED SOME FUZZBEAR AU KISSIES ASHDGSJDHJSDH

Anyway here is ur reminder to regularly smooch and adore ur fluffy bnuuy husbins

241 notes · View notes

witherby · 3 months ago

Text

DC Series Sublist

The Littlest Wayne: Adopted!Reader AU

Or, the one where Bruce brings home a baby, and your adorable little face wins the heart of your new, big brothers.

Non-linear storytelling! Each section can be read in just about any order!

Color key:

Headcanons || Drabble || Long post

The Masterlist is Here!

Infant!Reader, pre-powers

The Littlest Wayne - Bruce brings you home.

Headcanons - how your brothers play with you.

Flittermouse - where your nickname came from.

Jason's Experience - he's your favorite.

Alfred's Experience - he has a little shadow.

Uh Oh - Alfred taught you the worst first word.

Damian's Experience - he didn't like you at first.

Take your kid to work day - Bruce brings you to Wayne Enterprises.

First Words - the Justice League hears you speak.

Headcanons - you're snatched up at a gala.

Teething - Bruce is your personal chew toy.

Meet the Team - Bruce introduces you to the Justice League.

Drabble - Bruce rants about you to Hal.

Mama - an alternate First Word.

Headcanons - you have a first word for everyone.

Air Jail - you're a menace to Jason.

Headcanons - you come home from school with a back eye.

New Baby Smell - it's a good smell.

Post-Battle Injuries - you ask your family about their wounds.

Scoop - Jason carries you like a football.

Mother Hen (Dick) - Hal takes Dick for fast food before they go home.

Biological Parents - would Bruce let them take you back?

First Steps - you try your hardest to reach Bruce.

Bluey - the bat family interrupts your TV time.

Sickness - how your family would care for you if you become terminally ill.

Traits - Mouse has characteristics and mannerisms their family has adopted from them and vice versa.

Meet the Titans - Do they vibe with a baby?

Meet the Titans 2 - Dick comes to get you after his errands are done.

Cookies: Hal and Bruce try (and fail) to play a game with you

Toddler!Reader becomes a Metahuman

Uncertain Home - your father's rule about no Metas in Gotham scares you.

Uncertain Home, part 2 - Hal lets you know you're still loved, powers and all.

+ the Aftermath

Older!Reader, post-development of powers

Mother Hen - Hal cracks down on the batfamily shenanigans.

Marriage - Your dad marries your mom.

Makeover - who's willing to put up with a face full of products for you?

Cousin Cyborg - he's your favorite babysitter.

Time Out - you pull Tim into your shadows.

The Robin Mantle - how do they feel when you tell them you don't want it?

Internship - you stumbled into Deathstroke's employment

Sick Bed, part 1 - you've become gravely ill.

Sick Bed, part 2 - you're in the hospital with Damian.

Sick Bed, part 3 - you come home.

Truce Juice - you open a cafe that serves everyone: civilians, heroes, and villains.

Truce Juice: Catering - it's a hit.

Here's a depiction of what Truce Juice looks like.

Fist Bumps - Jason is obviously your favorite, and you're obviously his.

Anger - has Flittermouse ever been angry with their family?

Boiling Point - Mouse yells at the bat family.

Umbrakinesis - How do Mouse's powers work?

Overworked - how does the family react to their Littlest Workaholic?

Stories that feature Kon El's romantic relationship with Flittermouse

Image: depictions of a fashion-forward Mouse.

Piety - you meet Conner during a field trip to the Metropolis Conservatory.

Information Gathering - Clark and Hal ask you about the boy claiming to be Superman.

Carnival - Mouse brings Conner to his first one and he learns to see the appeal.

Grounding and Space - Conner uses your heartbeat to self regulate. Your pocket dimension helps, too, if it's not enough.

Signs of Life - Conner loses your pulse.

Meet the Family - Conner is painfully introduced to the bats.

Meet the Family pt. 2 - Dick and Conner have a conversation in the Batcave.

Superman and Kon - how does the natural-born Kryptonian handle this boy's existence?

Hideaway - you try to steal some private moments with Conner

Imprinting - does Clark know what Kon is doing?

The Talk - if you want to start doing biblical things with Conner, your family has opinions.

Movie Night: you're just trying to have a normal date with your boyfriend.

Lex - what does he think of the relationship?

Old Age - how is your relationship with Conner in later years?

Intimacy - How was your first time with your boyfriend?

Energy - you thrive in the darkness and Conner thrives in the sun.

Acts of Service - what you and your boyfriend do for each other.

Information - Kon knows some things and doesn't know others.

Schooling - how your education is treated vs. Kon's

Date Night - how are they usually planned?

Hypothetical - you lose an eye.

Flirting - how receptive are Mouse and Kon to it?

Children - Mouse and Kon have 3.

AUs of the AU

Or, the ones in which we let some thought experiments take shape outside Flittermouse's main continuity, just for fun.

Check them out Here!

[[ Do NOT repost my stories anywhere without my permission! ]]

#masterlist #the littlest masterlist #littlest wayne au #sublist

757 notes · View notes

burningembers91 · 4 months ago

Text

Gunpowder and Lace - The Salesman x Fem!Reader (NSFW)

Follow up piece to:

Freak of Nature On Display A Game of Cat and Mouse Crime of Passion Rare

Synopsis: Determined to level the playing field, you take The Salesman to places he's never been

A/N: I honestly don't know who i become when i write for this man, this piece is unhinged and i regret nothing. I also know this character never has his real name revealed, but for the purposes of the storyline, I had to make one up.

This fic is also inspired by the insanity that is this gif:

He was desperate to be back in control. That night in the restaurant had taken him by surprise, had left his mind reeling. You’d left him lying there on the floor like yesterday’s trash, saying goodbye without a second glance back at him. You’d humiliated him, left him to clean himself up and hastily pay the bill before he was found naked on the floor, shaking from pleasure and rage. No one had treated him like this before, no had ever been this bold before. The women he’d played with in the past, they’d always been scared him; but not you. You seemed to enjoy this torture, seemed to enjoy being pushed. He was sure the meal would break you, but it only seemed to make you stronger.

He was so desperate to regain control that he almost didn’t notice that he was losing it entirely. He’d never invited anyone to his home before, and the day after your meal together he turned up at your apartment to bring you over. He’d tried to convince himself that it would be easier to have you under his control if he had you somewhere he was familiar with, but he was fooling himself. He’d given up sitting out on the park bench now, his desire to be with you far outweighing his desire to watch you like a predator watches its prey. You no longer went to the coffee shop either, instead marking your student’s work at his home. He had tried to convince himself that it was another way to keep you in line, to keep you away from a world where you could wonder away from him at any time. But you seemed to enjoy being in his home, stretched out on his sofa as your worked, acting as if he didn’t exist. He wanted to be angry with you, but he couldn’t. He wondered if he was somehow broken. The aloofness he had once possessed was gone around you. He found himself seeking your attention, trying to distract you while you worked. But you never rose to the bait, never gave him the satisfaction he so desperately craved. One evening, as you worked late into the night on a presentation, he’d grown tired of waiting for you.

“I’m busy,” you told him, when he came searching for your touch. Your words felt like a slap, a punch in his gut that left him floored. “You’re getting awfully mouthy with me,” he snapped back. He could feel himself losing him cool; why weren’t you scared of him? Why were you so unfazed by him? Was he losing his touch? Perhaps he wasn’t enough for you anymore. That last thought scared him, and he wasn’t used to being scared. He ended up on his knees in front of you, his tongue lapping desperate circles around the sensitive nub of your clit. The moans he elicited from you were heavenly, his fingers working your soft, tight core. Your thighs tightened around his face as you came, your cries of pleasure echoing off his expansive walls. He was sure he’d got your attention, was sure you wouldn’t be able to resist him, but you went right back to your work, leaving him on his knees like a dog.

You knew exactly what you were doing, of course. You didn’t like acting so cold towards him, but you were tired of knowing nothing about him when he knew so much about you. You were intrigued, if a little shocked, when he invited you into his home but could find nothing that would give you any clue as to who this man was. You could feel your lust turning into something more, but you didn’t even know his name, and it was beginning to drive you crazy. You decided to try and beat him at his own game, to try and push him like he pushed you. You hadn’t entirely forgiven him for the steak incident; you’d been sick for days after, but something kept you coming back. You recognised the feelings you were beginning to have for him, but you couldn’t fully allow yourself to break down the walls. All relationships needed an equal amount of giving and taking though, and it was time he learned that.

“Tell me your name,” you whispered one night, your nails dragging down his chest and torso as he writhed against his mattress. You’d bested him again, beaten him at his own game. What had started as a desire to show you that he was still in charge, had ended up with him handcuffed to his bed while you delivered the most delicious punishments. Your tongue, lips and teeth explored his body, your silk negligee brushing against his flushed skin. The mix of silk, soft kisses and sharp teeth were agonisingly blissful, and he found himself slipping further and further into your grip. “Just tell me your name,” you repeated, “and I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

What was it that he wanted though? This whole thing had started as a game for him, just another girl he could use to entertain himself until he ultimately got bored of you. But somewhere along the line, it had gone horribly wrong. He wasn’t bored of you, far from it. He craved your attention, your validation. Your hands skimmed his lower stomach, purposely avoiding his stiff, leaking cock. He whimpered, a sound he’d never made before, and he knew in that instant he was done for.

“Let’s try something else then, shall we?” You smiled. You’d get him to tell you his name, consequences be damned. You knew that once he’d recovered, once he’d regained his usual controlling façade that you’d pay for this. You didn’t mind though; you’d take whatever punishment he dolled out if he would just tell you his name.

You knew he kept a gun in his bedside table, had seen the flsh of the black metal as he opened it one night. You’d grown up clay pigeon shooting as a child and teen, and a handgun couldn’t be that different from a rifle, could it? You’d removed the bullets while he’d been in the bathroom, setting the gun back carefully in its place. He didn’t need know you’d taken them out, but you couldn’t help but feel that accidentally firing it might spoil the fun a little.

Pulling the drawer open, you carefully removed the gun, the weapon heavy and cold in your hand. You saw his eyes light up, heard the guttural growl fall from his lips as he pulled at his restraints. His chest rose and fell heavily, his body shaking with anticipation. He was enjoying this.

You dragged the barrel of the gun slowly up his leg, his stomach, and across his chest. “Open your mouth,” you instructed. He did as he was told, so eager. You slid the gun slowly into his mouth, relishing in the pathetic little whimpers that fell from him. Your free hand trailed back down his stomach, before coming to a stop at the base of his cock. A single nail dragged up its length, your eyes never leaving his as he squirmed against your touch. “Tell me,” you repeated, tutting when he shook his head. Your hand gripped the base of him, working his shaft slowly and deliberately, watching his reaction as he neared the brink. Just when you felt him start to shake, just before he reached the edge of ecstasy, you pulled you hand away.

He screamed something at you, but you couldn’t tell what it was; the gun muffled his voice. “It’s just your name,” you sighed, “that’s all I want. Give me what I want, and I’ll let you punish me for my disobedience.” Your hand began to stroke him once more, your thumb circling the top of his cock as he pulled against the handcuffs.

He couldn’t take it much more, the desire to fall apart for you was overwhelming, bordering on painful. He’d tell you his bank account details if you asked, anything to get you to give him what he needed. “Park Jin-Tae!” he cried, his words muffled by the cold metal in this mouth. “What was that?” you smiled, removing the gun enough so he could speak clearly. “Park Jin-Tae,” he repeated. “My name is Park Jin-Tae.” “Good boy,” you winked. He’d told you what you wanted to know; you wouldn’t tease him any longer. You placed the gun back on the bedside table, lowering your mouth to his aching cock. You’d barely placed your lips around him before he emitted a strangled cry, losing himself completely as he spilled his seed down your throat.

He’d given you a piece of himself, a part of him that he had kept hidden from the world for longer than he could remember. As you unhandcuffed him and kissed him tenderly on his lips, he so badly wanted to be angry with you. But as he looked into your eyes, his chest ached in the most beautiful way possible. His heart raced, his stomach flipped, he craved your touch, your skin against his. He knew in that moment he’d lost the game. He wasn’t in control anymore, you were. Maybe you had been the whole time. He’d spent his entire life feeling nothing for anyone, treating people as toys he could play with and throw away. But from the moment he met you, his body had ached for you, every atom of his being craved you. He was a fool to think he’d ever been in charge.

“Park Jin-Tae,” you smiled, kneeling before him with your hands behind your back. “I’ll let you punish me now.” You looked so beautiful, so perfect. As he slipped the handcuffs onto your wrists, bending your delicate body over his knee, he brought his hand down against the skin of your ass hard. Your cry of pleasure was irresistible, but tonight he’d make you shed tears.

Yes, he would punish you. Punish you for making him fall in love.

#squid game #squid game 2 #squid game x reader #squid game fanfic #squid game x you #squid game smut #squid game season 2 #the salesman x reader #gong yoo #the salesman fanfic #the salesman squid game #the salesman x you #the salesman smut #the salesman

480 notes · View notes

bongopowder · 6 months ago

Text

looking for trouble! (hisoka)

⁺ . ✦ .　⁺ 　 . ✦ hunter x hunter (hisoka x reader) ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ⁺

content (18+): nsfw, female reader, hunter exam, zevil island, deep in the forest, degrading, bungee gum bondage?

word count: 4.6k

a tune for you: rule #34 (fish in a birdcage)

The darkness encompassing the indigo forest would be enough to unnerve a weary traveler, to send shivers down an unsuspecting spine, just as the touch of the cold night air nips at exposed skin. To others, however, its representation differs. Perhaps it’s an austere simplicity. The night: homogenous, consistent, peaceful even; a harmonious change from day. Or maybe it’s scandalous. A break from the life which you return to in the rather unsuspecting morning.

Zevil Island was about what you expected; lush trees extended far into the distance, speckled with occasional plains, mountainous rocks, and deceptively peaceful beaches. As the moon casts its glow amongst the scene, drowning every winter leaf and blade of grass with a mysterious sheet of pale blue light, the soft flutter of butterfly wings mingles with the whistling of wind, surrounding you as you walk.

The faint hoot of an owl sounds in the distance, and your breathing grows calmer. Looking down, you study the two badges in your hand: #174 and #105, yours and your target’s. You caught him out in the beginning, a large man with a red nose and a sword, tracking him to a field of tall grass after leaving the boat. Unbeknownst to him, you hid in the shadows, lurking deep in the thick branches of an oak tree until the sun set just below the horizon, casting the subtle gloom of dusk over the meadow.

It was over in a second, the creeping darkness and growing exhaustion hindering his senses as you stalked, hidden by the tall blades of grass. His body fell to the floor with a thud, the sound softened by the dense foliage below, and you quickly swiped the badge from his satchel.

That was mere hours ago. And now, the darkness had crept up on you, just as you had to him.

Yawning, you continue your walk through the trees, somewhat overconfident as you stride down the path which winds between trunks, leading you deeper into the forest. Your only task now is to find a place to hide, to ride out the next few days in peace, safe and away from whoever may be targeting you. Peace and quiet.

“Hey.”

Damn it.

The sound makes you stop in your tracks, eyes shooting up from the ground, seeing a figure up ahead, peeking through the foliage. Your hand instinctively moves straight to the knife in your belt.

Hisoka.

You narrow your eyes as you approach, knowing it would be useless to run from him. You meet his gaze, his stare piercing into you as he fingers a card, leaning casually against a nearby tree. There’s something behind those eyes: a sinister desire. For blood, no less.

Hisoka the Magician, nothing but a merciless killer, scheming and preying on those weaker. And they stand no chance, like a cat and a mouse. A cat with a fetish for carnage. A cat who likes to play with his food.

But you are no mouse.

You had encountered him before, in the sticky fog of the Misty Wetlands, where the heavy air sat deep within your lungs. You were close to the second stage, mind fuzzy as you continued to run, recalling nothing but the sensation of sitting, laying down, or simply standing still. That is, until you stumbled upon Gon’s neck in Hisoka’s hand.

It was an altercation. Hands. Knives. A fishing rod.

And those words he spoke to you, still ringing in your ears as he finally let you go.

You passed.

“I don’t want trouble,” you utter hesitantly, finally reaching the small courtyard with a hand up, approaching cautiously, ready to strike at any moment.

“And what if I do?” he smirks, pushing himself from the tree and making his way towards you. With a hand on his hip, he saunters closer, broad shoulders swaying as he walks.

“I’m not your target.”

“How can you be so sure?” he crosses his arms slyly, flicking the card back in his pocket.

“105 was my target, and I was his,” you pause, growing slightly nervous. You can feel an energy, a craving, a radiating force coming from his body. Something pent up, about to explode. “I’ll tell you what I know about your target, just let me leave.”

“Hmm…” he hums, eyes narrowing further as a smile creeps up on his thin lips. “Your two badges are still worth something to me.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, your mind reeling in dread. You can’t beat him; at least, you don’t think you can. You’ve seen what he can do, what options do you really have? The surrounding trees may offer cover, but he’d surely run you down.

“You wouldn’t come out unscathed,” you say after clearing your throat, the blunt words spoken with a slight apprehensive tone. “And you’d need a third badge too.”

His hand moves to his chin and he hums, that devilish smile still plastered on his damned face. He’s already decided something.

“What if we came to an… arrangement?” he proposes, stepping closer as he lets out the soft huff of a chuckle. “An agreement in which we both stand to gain something… and you can leave with both your badges.”

Your stomach turns with anxiety at his words. Nothing could ever be so easy.

“What kind of arrangement?” you ask, almost knowing you might regret it, the words coming out in a hoarse whisper, caught deep in your throat.

He grins, a fisherman who just felt a tug on his line. Slowly, he reaches out his hand, palm upwards, extending his pointer finger out to you.

Within a second, he snaps it back, a beckoning call which somehow sends you flying ten feet forwards straight into him. Your face hits his chest, your body crashing into his as your hands instinctively move up to try to lessen the blow.

“What the-”

“You see,” he sighs dramatically, interrupting your complaint and wrapping one arm tightly around your waist to hold you against him. “I’ve found myself in quite the bind… a predicament, one may say. So much built up with no way to release it…”

Your eyes widen as you feel the slight touch of his fingers grazing up your neck, his other hand still firmly holding you in place, your hips tightly pressed against him. Immediately, heat travels straight to your cheeks as you look up into his narrowed eyes.

“I… you don’t mean…” you stutter.

“I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, haven’t you?” he smirks as his fingers snake around your neck, his touch firm. Your breath catches as they tighten, and he begins to slowly back you up against a nearby tree, the rough bark tickling the back of your scalp. “I haven’t killed anyone in days…”

You watch his chest rise and fall, his breaths growing quicker, lips parted slightly. And those eyes – dull and clouded with a repressed haze – bare into your soul, scanning every element of your face.

Swallowing, you too let your gaze fall along his face, his body, those muscular arms which hold you against the trunk. What am I doing? This is a terrible idea…

“What’ll it be?” he huffs impatiently, grip tightening as he leans in, causing you to gasp. “You leave in the morning, both badges in hand. As if nothing happened.”

His breath is hot against your ear, rough with his smoldering passion. You freeze, heart racing in nervousness, or… excitement? You can’t tell, and it only makes you feel worse.

To kill… to fuck… is it all the same to him?

The silence is unsettling; his hand remains on your neck, the hold unwavering as a soft dusk breeze makes its way through the forest, rustling leaves along the way.

“Okay…” you steady your voice, looking up into his eyes. “It’s a deal.”

A smile flickers across his face for a fleeting moment, but within an instant, his lips are crashing against yours, hungry and desperate. He lets out a soft sound against your mouth, something between a growl and a moan, as he pulls your hips forward, further into his.

“Good choice…” he murmurs as his grip on your throat releases and his fingers snake backwards, the feeling of sharp nails trailing along your sensitive skin making you wince. Your head snaps back as he pulls your hair, and within a moment his mouth is on your neck. He plants hot, messy kisses along your flesh, occasionally grazing his teeth across you, as if holding himself back from taking a bite.

The cool breeze tickles your neck, now wet with a thin layer of saliva, sending a faint shiver down your spine. Apprehensively, you reach your hand up to the nape of his neck, sliding your fingers through his hair, unintentionally pressing his face closer to your skin.

He groans, and you feel the harsh pinch of a bite at the base of your neck. His hands travel down to your hips, now pulling you away from the tree and backing you up deeper into the forest, the path out of sight.

“Wouldn’t want to be interrupted,” he murmurs between breaths, his mouth moving up to plant kisses along your jaw.

You watch in the darkness as he pulls back, his eyes scanning the environment behind you, expression lighting up for a moment. Without a warning, he pushes you backward, sending you stumbling down into the thick grass below, the dampness of the vegetation cold against your hands as you hit the floor.

He grins, walking closer and leaning over your body between your legs, the moon above disappearing as he steps in front of it, like an eclipse. The white rays of moonlight create a blurry haze around his silhouette, his body a looming shadow above you.

Oh, he’s not gonna be gentle…

Crouching down, his face just inches from yours, he lets his eyes wander over your body fully, taking in your entire form. Your chest, rising and falling swiftly. Your eyes, wide in anticipation. Your hands, propping you up slightly as you rest in the thick grass.

“You’re scared…?”

His question is rhetorical; he knows you’re terrified. Terrified of him and terrified of the consequences. And yet, there’s something that draws you in, something that keeps you from running. Something…

“Does it matter?” you whisper, eyes meeting his through your eyelashes.

“No,” he smirks with a shrug, now moving to settle between your legs, his arm reaching behind you on the grass, steadying himself as he gets onto his knees. “It’s more fun that way.”

As the last words leave his mouth, he captures your mouth in another kiss, his lips moving furiously against yours. You slowly let yourself fall back into the grass, hands gripping his shirt as you pull him down with you. Sounds of soft pleasure fill the air, your senses heightened, feeling the soft skin of his face against yours and the dry tack of his face paint tickling your nose.

You’re just as desperate for it now, your desire snowballing with every kiss, touch, breath. It’s wrong and dirty and indecent but you just can’t help yourself, his body pressing yours deeper into the ground.

And then the movement starts, his hips grinding into yours as he uses a hand to pry your thighs apart. The sudden friction sends a jolt of electricity through your body, a small sound escaping your lips but immediately captured by his.

He lets out a deep breath, his arousal growing more intense as he continues his movement into your hips, one hand keeping you pressed against the grass. Your arms wrap around his body, fingers sinking into the soft fabric of his shirt, tugging at it urgently.

A thin string of saliva connects your lips to his as he pulls back, wasting no time in pulling his shirt over his head and exposing his bare chest to you. His muscles, accentuated under the moonlight, tense slightly as the brisk air hits him.

He leans back in, eyes trained to yours as he tosses his clothes to the side. His hands move to your shirt, not waiting for confirmation before pulling it and over your head, nearly ripping the fabric with his urgency.

You shiver, unable to decide if the reason lies within your exposure to him or the elements, and you fall back to the grass.

“Forgetting something?” Hisoka teases as he slips a finger under the bridge of your bra, lifting your back from the ground as he pulls it towards him. His other hand slides behind you, his fingers working to unhook the clasp.

You feel the color rush to your cheeks as he drops your undergarment to the side, his eyes hungrily trailing down to your exposed chest. He continues to study you for a moment, his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek as he lets his gaze roam down, and down… and down.

Oh.

Your pants are already being torn off, the coarse fabric quickly sliding down your legs as he tugs them up in the air.

Instinctively, you tuck your knees, pressing your thighs together nervously as he kneels in front of you, eyes still taking in your appearance in silence. It feels demeaning, degrading, dirty, the way he looks at you. And something about it makes heat pool between your legs.

He stands, his fingers slipping under the waistband of his own pants, tugging them down just enough to see his v-line peeking out from the pale fabric.

“Get on your knees.”

His demand rings though your ears, the hum of sound clouding your thoughts. It’s as if your body moves on its own, fueled by nothing but inherent lust and scandal, your knees digging into the dirt as you look up at him.

You tug his pants further down, desperate for him, to feel him, to tastehim. He smirks, allowing you to remove it, letting the fabric fall to his ankles.

The resulting sight makes your breath catch in your throat, your eyes widening as they stare, unmoving from him. The size is…

“Make it fit.”

Your stomach drops, not in fear, but rather sensuality: the thrill of desire. Moving in, you waste no time giving him what he wants, your tongue running up the length of him, pausing gently at his tip and moving back and forth, a slight saltiness spreading throughout your mouth.

Hisoka grows more restless, his breathing staggering, the air caught in his throat as you toy with him.

“Get on with it,” he growls, his hand quickly grasping your hair at the scalp, pulling your face closer to him.

You smirk, eyes not leaving his as you lick a long, thick stipe up your palm, saliva glistening in the night. Your hand moves forward, gripping his cock and beginning to move, tantalizingly, back and forth.

He groans, his fingers intertwining further into your hair and sharp nails scraping against your scalp.

You move slowly, teasing him further with your tongue, taking him deeper, an inch at a time as your hand continues to work at his base. The pressure builds in your mouth, your jaw opening to accommodate him as you continue, almost choking and gagging.

As your lips touch him, taking him in, he lets out a straggled moan, strong arms forcing your head forward again, more and more, until you’ve taken his entire length in your mouth. You grip his thighs, feeling him hit the back of your throat and push harder. You twist, making him fit.

And then he pulls you back, just as you had gotten the chance to adjust. That is, before he thrusts your face into him again, and again, and again. It’s aggressive and violent, his grunts growing louder with every push, his hips moving forwards to meet your face, forcing himself even deeper into your mouth.

You feel tears blurring your vision, unable to feel anything except the sensation deep in your throat, the pain of him hitting against you, but the pleasure of knowing what you’re doing to him.

The muscles of his thighs under your grip begin to tighten more frequently, his gasps and moans growing more desperate.

“Fuck…” he grumbles under his breath, the word barely distinguishable from the series of pleasurable sounds caught deep in his throat, just as he is caught in yours.

He pulls you back by your hair, a strangled grunt escaping his lips, lips which immediately twist into a scheming smile. With his other hand, he places his finger under your chin, using his thumb to wipe the stray saliva dripping from the side of your mouth.

You fall onto your back, pushed back into the grass by Hisoka as he straddles your body. He leans in, mouth finding yours in a kiss as he positions himself over you, sliding his hands along your bare arms outwards, his hands meeting yours. After just a moment, he pulls his hands back, running them back up your arms, one finding your breast and the other, your hip.

You shift to move your hand, but it’s stuck. You tug and pull, furrowing your brow and pulling back from the kiss to glance to the side, staring at your hand, almost cemented to the ground.

“Why can’t I move-”

You’re immediately silenced, Hisoka’s finger moving to your lips, a sly smile plastered on his face.

“Don’t concern yourself with such trivial matters such as your hands…” he whispers, kissing at your jawline as if nothing happened.

The wet sensation draws your attention back to the moment, forgetting about your hands, or lack thereof. He moves again, positioning one leg between yours, pressing down into your body. You move your body up and closer to his as you begin to buckle your hips against his thigh, craving stimulation.

He smirks against your mouth, feeling your slick against his thigh as he continues to kiss you. Suddenly, he shifts his position, moving his other leg between yours. One of his hands travels to your hip, pushing you further into the ground.

“Such a dirty slut for me, aren’t you?” he purrs, his mouth pulling away from yours as his hand moves from your hip, trailing down to your inner thigh. You shiver, eyes meeting his in the starlight, a shadow looming over his face.

He slides a finger up, gently skimming along your skin as he makes his way closer to your core. His finger moves further up, teasing your folds, his touch far from gentle.

“Ah-” you dig your head into his shoulder, your hands gripping at the dirt as he continues to move his finger. Your eyes widen as you feel his sharp nail graze against your clit, the pain and stimulation sending a shudder through your body.

“Careful-” your forced whisper is quickly halted as he moves two fingers into you, slipping easily inside your throbbing pussy. You tighten around him, your heels and hips digging deeper into the dirt as your muscles contract.

It’s messy, inconsistent, almost selfish. He moves his fingers deeper inside of you, forcing small sounds of pleasurable pain from your lips, as if he cares not for your satisfaction, and only for what you can do for him.

After only a moment, he removes his fingers from inside of you, sliding them seductively up and across your neglected clit. They continue their journey up, sliding along your navel, sternum, and up to your neck.

“Clean them,” he demands suddenly, not waiting for a reply and shoving his fingers into your mouth, the tips pressing down into your tongue.

You let out a soft groan, the sound catching in your throat as his fingers muffle you, that is, before you begin to suck and lick him clean. Your tongue moves across and between his sticky fingers, lapping up your wetness from his skin.

As you continue to work at his fingers, he spreads your thighs further apart with his legs, settling between them. His fingers push further down against your tongue, eliciting a small whine from you.

You gasp as you feel him between your folds again, the tip of his cock sliding back and forth against you, lubricated with your slick.

He finally removes himself from your mouth, his hand now resting beside your head on the grass. His body remains pressed against yours, his hips stopping their movement as they slide back, positioning his tip at your entrance.

You bite back a moan in anticipation, pursing your lips as you look up at him, hovering over you.

“Beg for it,” his mouth twists into a smart grin.

“Please…” the word leaves your mouth before you can even register how degrading the situation is. You’re simply too frustrated, too needy. “I want you so bad… please…”

“Say my name,” he whispers close to your ear, his own breathing unsteady as he processes your words. “I want this whole island to hear you.”

“H-Hiso-”

The rest catches in your throat, the sensation of him slowly entering you drawing out a long and straggled moan, mingling with the remnants of a real word. Your fingers tear at the grass below, body contracting as he pushes deeper and deeper, filling you up more than you thought possible.

The movement begins, slowly at first, then speeding up in aggressive desperation. Your head throws back in pleasure, unable to tell if the stars you see above are real ones or not. Hisoka grunts with every thrust, each one growing in power as his fingers dig into the ground beside your head.

And the dirt. It coats your hair as he rocks you back and forth, stuck to the strands with the soft grassy dew acting like glue. You bite your lip, stifling a desperate moan into the night, knowing anyone could be in the surrounding forest.

Hisoka’s hand moves to your neck again, giving you no time to process as he tightens his fingers around you, using you as leverage to fuck you even harder.

“What did I tell you?” he grumbles through his clenched jaw, his pace unwavering. “I want to hear you.”

You oblige, forcing yourself to whisper his name, focusing on nothing else than the word, trying to distract yourself from the tightening around your throat, and the pounding in your stomach. It feels as though your organs are moving, shifting positions to accommodate his selfish length.

“Louder,” he growls.

You try, raising your voice as he continues to grind his hips against yours, his movement losing coordination as time progresses, growing less calculated, more carnal.

It really does feel like he wants to kill you.

You feel the pressure building within you, in time with the tightening of fingers around your neck. Vision growing hazy but body taught with pleasure, you manage to stutter.

“H-Hisoka… I can’t…” Your throat closes tighter, silencing you again.

“I don’t care,” he grunts, his breathing signifying he’s close to the edge. He has no plans of stopping…

You should hate it. It should scare you, terrify you even. The thought of dying: fucked to death on a deserted island by a man who cares not to even learn your name. But your body doesn’t work alongside your rational thoughts.

The constant rhythm, the stimulation, the force, it all comes to a climax.

Your body shakes, his name on your tongue as you feel the release. You tighten around him, your head digging back into the ground, just as he lets out a strangled gasp.

His hand releases your neck as he pushes his lips into yours, his hips moving as he rides out the waves of pleasure. You capture each other’s moans, drowning them in the sheer force of the kiss, passionate and feverous, as messy as anything coming before it.

A final gasp escapes your lips as your body relaxes, growing limp under his as your muscles twitch with remnant stimulations. He pulls his lips back from yours, gliding them against your jaw, his head eventually moving to settle beside yours, with his forehead pressed against the grass.

Breathing. In and out. Just the sensation of it feels like a blessing through all the turmoil. The dark of the night feels duller now, the sky softening into a darker gray rather than a piercing black.

The feeling of time passing is indescribable, minutes turning into hours or hours turning into minutes: you can’t tell. You’re sat there, quietly, simply left alone with your thoughts and a heavy body above you, hands still stuck to the floor.

The silence of the forest continues, as if unaware of the chaos, unaware of the fact you were just fucked to an inch of your life, the leaves still rustling with the same rhythm they did hours before. A peeking dawn cracks over the tops of the trees, the sky hinting to shades of purples and oranges in the distance.

“Hmm…” Hisoka hums, picking his head up to see the changing sky, as if waking from a slumber, the new light now highlighting his face in different ways than before. His face paint is smeared, no thanks to your nose and his sweat, with small pieces having been chipped away. And his hair. His hair has flattened, small pieces falling in front of his face, contrasting their normal pushed-back appearance.

He pushes himself off you, his abs clenching as he lifts himself up, standing up fully with a deep breath. Leaning down, he wipes the slight tint of brown dirt from his knees, the grass and soil falling back to rest on the ground, leaving him completely clean, a different sight from you. In silence, he delicately gathers his clothes, scattered across the grass in different places, putting each item back on, casually but with concentration, eyes no longer darting to you as you watch him, your hands still glued to the ground by some unknown force.

He shrugs his last layer on, smoothing the wrinkles of his shirt as his hand runs across the clove and spade on the front of the fabric before settling on his badge, #44. He straightens it out delicately before adjusting his clothing one more time. As he does, he stares off into the trees, through the dense trucks and into the fading darkness.

“Well, it’s been a pleasure,” he finally says, sighing and waving his hand dismissively as he walks away. With that, your hands are free again, the pressure releasing and allowing you to move your wrists. You gasp, immediately sitting up onto your palms as you watch him, walking back through the forest and to the established path, already beginning to smooth his hair again. Without another word, he disappears into the foliage, his footsteps growing softer and softer as time passes. And then, silence.

And it leaves you: naked, dirty, wet, and disheveled in a patch of grassy soil, blades littered across your body and scattered through your hair. Your breathing slows, the rise and fall of your chest softening as you draw your gaze upwards and to the sky, those warm colors, scaring away the sins of the cold night as they escape to the west, away from the light.

But what could you really have expected?

Perhaps you really were like the others in the end.

Just a mouse.

Happy Birthday Alexis! <3

#hunter x hunter #hxh #hxh hisoka #hisoka x y/n #hisoka x reader #hisoka x you #hisoka morow #hxh smut #hunter x hunter smut #hunter x hunter x reader #hisoka morow x reader #hunter x hunter x y/n #hunter x hunter x you #hisoka imagine #hisoka smut #hisoka morow smut #hisoka fanfic #hisoka fic

545 notes · View notes

justivik · 3 months ago

Text

A LITTLE DEATH.

; yandere! twins x fem! reader

tw: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE. smut, cnc content, abuse, p in v, a lot of kinks if u want idk and not a lot of yandere stuff

You left your books in the locker, already old and worn out, and sighed deeply, feeling the weight of the fatigue accumulated from school. The teachers, with their endless homework, and the projects they left only added more stress, offering no respite.

Your school days used to be normal and relatively uneventful, until you met them...

They were twins, strange twins. They maintained a questionable reputation but were attractive enough to distract from your personality; the older one was outgoing with an obsession with bladed weapons, and the younger one was introverted but with a fascination for the warmth of fire.

They were both fascinated and obsessed with you.

You still didn't know the reason, but you hated the position you had found yourself in. Every day you saw them coming towards you, like two Siamese cats, and they tormented you like a little mouse. It all started from the time you talked to the first twin; you helped him with a chemistry assignment and showed interest in his knife collection. Soon after, the second twin came into the picture, as you became concerned when his arm was burned.

The familiar figures appeared in your field of vision and panic set in. You shoved all your notebooks in at once, leaving a mess in the locker, and ran out into the crowd. Your eyes quickly adjusted to the bright light of the campus, anxiously searching for the parking lot. The crowd around you didn't help calm your mind, but at least it kept you distracted. Before you could get away from the bustling area, however, you felt a sudden tug on the sleeve of your backpack, something that made you take a step back and stare in surprise at those eyes that, though they sparkled with a flirtatious sparkle, also reflected a darkness that unnerved you.

“Who are you looking for in such a hurry?” The voice of the older of the twins came through clearly, echoing in the air, as if it could make everything around you stop.

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat instantly growing larger. You tried not to look directly into those piercing eyes, but you couldn't help it.

“Answer him, don't be rude” the other twin insisted, lightly slapping your back, you turned to see him with a dirty look but he just smirked at you mockingly.

“I'm not waiting for anyone, leave me alone”

You struggled some more to free yourself, but the older man held you even more firmly, as if he didn't plan to let you escape so easily. His hands were strong, his presence commanding. Something inside you stirred, you knew he was playing a game you didn't fully understand.

“Why are you like this with us? We just want to be with you, and this is how you treat us?” His voice sounded almost plaintive, though the frown and crossed arms gave him an air of defiance. The tone of his voice, that intertwining of frustration and desire, made you feel more uncomfortable than you had imagined.

You felt trapped, as if his every word was just another noose tightening your breath. You took a deep breath, seeking a moment of calm to collect your thoughts. Why did they keep insisting?

“I don't want to make you feel bad, but I just don't feel like I fit in with you” you finally managed to say, the words coming out with some regret, but also certainty. The feeling of being out of place, of not understanding why they were watching you like this, was even more uncomfortable for you than any other.

“Of course you fit in. If we're inviting you to spend the afternoon with us, it's for a reason. Do you know how many girls have tried to get into our plans? And you...you're just wasting the opportunity.”

The older twin's tone was becoming more persuasive, almost accusatory, as his eyes kept watching you with a mixture of frustration and a strange hopefulness. You could feel the tension in the air, as if every word out of his mouth was a challenge.

You felt caught between the desire to make them understand that it wasn't that easy for you and the growing discomfort of being under their constant observation. What did they really want from you? Why were they so insistent that you become part of their world?

“Do you really think it's that simple?” you asked, though the insecurity in your voice betrayed your thoughts. You knew their invitation wasn't as harmless as they were trying to make it seem. They were playing with your hair as you chose your words.

The oldest one let out a low chuckle, but his gaze was still fixed on you.

“You just don't get it, do you? We're not asking you for anything weird. We just want you to stop running away.” His voice, though warm, carried an urgency you couldn't ignore.

Silence settled between the two of you, and you could feel the weight of his presence, a warm sensation began to be felt on your arm, a noble but possessive caress. The younger one prostrated himself behind you letting his breath tickle you while the older one played with your hands.

“Come on, hang out with us for a while.”

You thought about it so much that you didn't have time to realize that they were already directing you to their carpool, maybe spending an afternoon with them might change your mind.

“Let me go, this isn't funny!” you moaned at the boys' warm touch against your button. The firm contact against your sensitive skin covered by your panties made a wet patch form.

They both started laughing excitedly, whispering various sick ideas of how to make you come or even the desire to take you by force and use you as their own living sex doll. They had such macabre ideas that they sounded sadistic and of course they were.

“Stop moving, love. You're going to have to take it whether you want to or not.” The younger one began to loosen his belt while the older one held your arms behind your back with one hand and the other painfully massaged your clitoris. You noticed the great length the youngest twin was carrying.

“God, I'm getting so hard”

He threatened as he smiled.

You protested uncontrollably but your nose was already touching the boy's hard abdomen.

“Open.”

Forcefully you opened your mouth as your hair was pulled hard to perform such an action, his member slowly entered to get used to the warmth of your mouth, lewd sounds rang throughout the room.

The older one complimented you and stroked your hair while the younger one grabbed your jaw and generated perverted comments. Your head was spinning as the tip of the cock hit your uvula, allowing you to breathe for four seconds before taking it again until your face became a mess of cum and saliva.

Now it was the other guy's turn, your head was crushed against the bed by the young man while the boy took off his boxer shorts and then lubricated his member with your liquid, he played with your entrance while you moaned with disgust but at the same time excitement.

You liked being held like this, you even liked them liking you and having them obsessed with you, being your stalkers and acting like an innocent lamb every time they came near you. Now they are taking you by force and without permission.

“Ah! f-fuck” you moaned highly when you felt his member open your entrance.

You felt so full having him inside you, you bit your lip as you looked at the boy who a few minutes ago abused your mouth and of course he would do it again. They were both moving their hips and their mouths were leaving sounds so high pitched they were driving you crazy, they were moaning your name and kinky nicknames like it was a love song.

“N-ngh, so fucking...g-good” heaving breaths only pronounced pleasure.

“I'm going to cum” pronounced both boys then moaned at length as their faces contorted in pleasure and your eyes turned white from so much pleasure too.

Your body collapsed at the end of that act, your breathing was up and down and you could only feel the long fingers of one of the twins playing with the dripping semen and reinserting it into your entrance.

It was going to be a long night.

hi guys 😔😔

371 notes · View notes