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#if you hate it you can throw rocks at me or whatever
bandedbulbussnarfblat · 9 months
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i used to make my sunday school teacher so angry back when my mom forced me to go to church, bc i would question everything. and point out how this one part of the bible contradicts this other part of the bible. and the response i usually got was the rules in the new testament were the ones that counted. so i asked why we still had to follow the ten commandments. and they did not like that. and the thing was, i wasn't actively trying to be malicious or anything. i was a kid trying to understand why so many people worshiped this god, that to me seemed jealous and petty and cruel. bc i never actually believed in any of it. i pretended to, bc my mom did and the way church would talk about non-believers made me not feel like it was safe to admit that to her. american christianty is a cult. a very popular cult, but it's a fucking cult.
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queasyghosts · 1 year
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x
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laundrybiscuits · 1 year
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(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)
Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 
“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 
He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”
“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 
Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”
“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”
“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”
Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”
The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.
“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 
“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”
———
It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  
“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”
“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”
“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.
“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.
“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”
“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”
“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.
“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 
“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”
Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 
“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”
“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 
“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”
“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”
“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”
“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”
“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”
“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”
Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”
“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.
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churipu · 9 months
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Idk if u take requests rn, but if you do, could you write fluffy moments with jjk men (pls include toji, i rlly wanna see him w fluff because there is like none) you fav would be cuddling, but you do whatever you want <3 Also, don't stress yourself when writing i, and please take breaks <33
JJK MEN + FLUFFY MOMENTS (๑ > ᴗ < ๑)
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featuring. toji fushiguro, gojo satoru, nanami kento x reader
warnings. jjk men being softies
note. i just read the most heart wrenching nanami fic, i think i'm not okay at all </3 but hi anon, thank you for requesting this — this is exactly what i needed after reading angst. i apologize if it took a long time to get this out omg, i hope you like it.
and guys, omg???? 700+ followers? i genuinely never expected my works to be recognized by so much, and meeting new writers here and there, making friends, makes me so happy (i'm not crying) i love u all so so so so much, u guys rock, ily all <;33
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TOJI FUSHIGURO
hated talking about the future, but ever since he met you — he rambles about it.
toji has always thought his future was nothing interesting, he kills people for a living, gets money off of it and he gambles. that's about it, so what was there to think about in the future?
meeting you was the firsts to a lot of things in his life.
toji grew up in a loveless household full of anger, and lust for power. which is why he is who he is today. distant, aloof, detached. people tell him he'd be nothing without his strength and face, there is no denying that toji fushiguro has a face card. he knows that.
so when he first met you, all he expected was like every other day. people caring about his face, and only that — and he'd play along although he's had enough of it, but no; you didn't care about all that.
face, money, strength. none of that.
he vaguely remembered the first time you spoke to him: "hey, mind helping me grab that box of cereal?" and he expected you to hit on him after, but you left it at that, muttering out a thanks and then leaving him in the aisle alone.
then for some reason he meets you again, the very next month. asking him the exact same thing, asking for help to take the cereal box which happened to be on the very top of the shelf. god knows why, both you and him just made it a routine every month after that. no communications about meeting and all. you both kind of just, met right in the cereal aisle on one particular day in the month, and then leave.
on the fifth month, he finally asks for your number.
"toji, is that your way of asking me out? because if it is, i'm disappointed."
"maybe."
and then you both kind of just sealed it; you're dating. nothing much changed, every month both you and him still go to the cereal aisle — he still helps you with grabbing the box from the shelf. the only difference was that now the two of you leave together.
toji hates talking about his future. but with you? he could go on for a whole day. he rambles about what he thinks and what he wants in the future with you.
"i wan' to get married. i wan' to marry you," did it caught you by surprise? yes. yes it did, "i wan' to have a family with you, a nice little family. i wan' to have a son so i could throw him around — but a girl is okay too, i can protect her from boys, i'll love them both equally. but i don't think i'll be a good dad to them. i'm scared they won't like me."
"toji, what? where did that come from?"
his back was pressed to your chest as you both lay down on the bed, one of your leg draped over his torso and he has his hand on your plush thigh, squeezing it every once in a while.
"i don't know. just a thought, i never talked about my future with anyone before," his body vibrated as he grunted, leaning his head back a bit, "i just don't think i'll be a good father, y'know?" he squeezed your thigh.
"why do you think so?" you asked him, placing your chin on the crown of his head.
"i just think so."
"stop thinking then," you chuckles, draping an arm around his neck, caressing his throat so softly it made the male shudder under your touch — but he didn't mind, he took comfort under your skin.
"can't." his voice was not stern or bold, it was soft and serene. he laced his fingers with yours, kissing your knuckles gently, "i can't believe 'm saying this, but 'm worried about my future. 'm a little scared."
just the fact he was admitting that he's scared about something was mind boggling, because the toji fushiguro? who kills people? was admitting that he was actually terrified of something, which wasn't even the strongest sorcerer. it's his future.
you were silent, letting him talk because when else would he be able to be like this?
"'m terrified. 'm scared i won't make you happy. what if i don't make you happy? what if my kids hate me?" so many questions that you don't even have the answer to, but you placed your hand over his lips, shutting him up.
toji grumbled, he swiped his tongue over your palm.
"ew!" you laugh, wiping your hand on his shirt, "but why're you suddenly talking about this all? which videos have you been watching again?"
"nothing, can't i think about my own future with you?" he shuffles, turning to face you, prepping an arm under his head as he stares down at you. not in the condescending way — he stared at you with so much desperation for love, he slowly blinks, the glint in his eyes never changing.
"why out of the blue?"
"jus' because."
you poked his cheek, "liar."
he sighs, latching his hand onto your hips, pulling you close. he buries his head into your shoulder in content, "jus' worried about it, i never think about my future in the past. but now — with you, i jus' worry about it because i didn't think i'd make it 'till now."
you chuckled, rubbing the back of his head lightly, "you remember that one time in the park when you see that little boy crying over spilled ice cream?"
he hums softly.
"and you bought him another ice cream, but asked me to be the one to give it to him because you were scared you'd scare him off instead?" you ask him, your fingers tangling with his hair lightly.
"yeah."
"you'll be fine, toji." you tell him.
"y'think so?" he retorts back, squirming a bit.
"i know so."
GOJO SATORU
he has to know about everything that you like, he needs to know why you like them. every. single. thing.
gojo chased after you. you were one tough cookie, he likes a chase. he's so used to people fawning over his looks that when you didn't — he just has to know your name.
the curiosity to know your name ended up pulling him in a spiral of this little thing called "love". gojo swore it was just curiosity, but everyone else besides him thinks otherwise, he promised himself and people around that he didn't like you, he was just, well, curious.
but curiosity doesn't look like that. gojo finds himself asking people about what type of boys you like, and when he finds out about it — he tries his best to be your type. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite flower is, and when he finds out about it, he's out there sending big bouquets of it to you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite genre of music is, and when he finds out, he listens to them so he could talk about it with you. he promised he was just curious.
gojo tries finding out what your favorite series or movie is, and when he finds out, he watches them all intently so he could talk about them with you and hate on characters together with you. and he still promises that he was just curious.
he was just curious, he kept telling that to himself. so why does it bother him when you were out with another guy? another guy that's not him. not gojo satoru.
gojo asks you about who it was, and when you tell him it's nobody important, he gets upset about it.
"why are you so upset?"
"i'm just..curious."
"it's none of your business."
he left it at that. his whole week was ruined, he couldn't stop thinking about it. about you. and then he finally realizes, he wasn't curious — he was in love. so there he was, in front of your door at two in the morning.
"what?"
"who was that guy?"
"gojo, you're still onto that?" you ask him, tired, "i said it's none of your business. you're here at two just to ask me about that?"
"it's my business because i'm in love with you, damn it!"
gojo was half grateful when you told him it was your distant cousin, but half embarrassed as well. all's well ends well. he gets you in the end, and he doesn't have to worry about anything else — nothing in the world matters to him but you.
"baby, what do you recommend?" was one of the most spoken phrases he has delivered to you.
in restaurants, dessert bars, convenience store, movie theaters, anything you could recommend him, he'd ask for it.
"why do you always ask? don't you have your own preference, satoru? i'm not even sure if you'll like my recommendations though," he smiles at you, tracing small circled on the back of your hand.
"i want to know about everything that you like, and why you like them. i want to know everything about you," you look at him and smiled, honestly, what did we ever do to deserve him?
"why?"
"because i love you." yeah, he wasn't just curious. he's in love. and deep.
NANAMI KENTO
he always orders food that you like, and shares some with you — even if you didn't ask for it.
nanami never expected to be in relationships. in fact, relationships was the last thing in his mind — but when he met you, he just kind of felt attracted. he seeks for your comfort whenever he's tired, and when you weren't there, nanami just sort of drowns in himself until he could see you or hear your voice.
at the beginning of your relationship, nanami was never the one to initiate things because he wasn't an experienced male in relationships. you ask him and he just sort of do it without any other complaints.
but as time goes on, he get the hang of it. what he should do and what he shouldn't — it's adorable, he's started doing things that he never thought he would do in his life, but here he was sitting by your side; peeling apples for you because you wanted them.
"kento, eat some. it's going to be finished by the time you finish peeling every one of them," you joked, your legs on top of his thighs.
nanami hums softly, "it's okay. as long as you like it."
nanami doesn't realize the weigh of his sweet words sometimes, he does it and asks himself to why you were reacting like that. sweet talk is his vocabulary. he says it with no worries, telling you things you've always wanted to hear but never say.
but one thing that always stuck to him and you from the first time you got close up to now was: nanami always orders things that you like. you never understood the reason behind it, and when you tried asking him about it, he just tells you he was craving it.
it didn't seem odd at first — but as time goes on, his whole taste was just an exact copy of yours.
if you get something different than your usual menu, nanami will get your usual menu because he knows damn well that you're going to end up wanting them. although you don't tell him when the food comes, nanami makes it his job to share with you. and that's really sweet of him.
but when you get your usual menu, nanami orders something with elements that you like in them and shares them with you even without you asking for a bite. and not only that, he didn't share a spoonful — he shared a lot.
"ken, you don't have to share with me. i have my own food." you tell him, despite your heart tugging you to just let him share because you were too shy to say that you wanted a bite.
"it's alright sweetheart. i'm a little full." he lies. he ends up snacking on something on midnight, and it's now a routine.
so in exchange for that, you always make it your job to stock up foods ranging from small snacks like biscuits, chips, up to instant or pre-heated food. even cutting up fruits so nanami could snack on it, and he caught on to it pretty quick.
but he didn't complain, he likes it when you do it.
"ken, i cut out some mangoes and dragon fruit. you can eat them if you're hungry."
"thank you y/n."
mutual wins.
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© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE
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themultifanshipper · 2 months
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if you're still accepting requests can ask for 🟠 with oscar please and thank you 😽
Oscar was not happy. He'd finished p1, and yet you could hear him in his driver's room, cursing and throwing things around like an animal.
Oh yeah, Oscar was fucking pissed.
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Warnings: filth, dirty talk, based on hungary 2024, is it exhibitionism if the goal is to make people hear you?, squirting, Oscar's a bit of a freak in this ngl, bordering on dubious consent, very minimal prep, overstimulation?
Requested from my prompt list
Technically his race had gone perfectly, he drove great, managed his tyres, took the lead and he'd had his first Grand Prix victory in formula one. He should be happy.
But just like his first sprint victory, it had been completely overshadowed, and this time it was by the absolute mess that was the Mclaren strategy calls.
By the fuckass team that made the call to pit his twat of a teammate first.
It was supposed to be smooth sailing, instead his teammate had to fucking let him pass for him to win.
That's not racing, that's fucking… it's…
Whatever it is it's fucked. It's fucked and it's wrong and it made Oscar's win feel undeserved. And the final insult came in the form of Lando himself.
Sweet summer child, Mclaren's princess, doe eyed baby boy Lando.
He was only a prick about 1% of the time, but today he was really making up for the the other 99% with gusto.
While Oscar was smashing up his driver's room, Lando was in his own, next door, adding insult to injury by playing his music just loud enough for Oscar to hear, but he'd selected a playlist that he knew Oscar hated.
Because Lando was also bitter. So it was really just petty bickering, but with noise instead of words. Everytime Oscar threw something against the wall, or screamed in anger, Lando would turn it up a notch.
You, the team photographer, and Oscar's fuckbuddy turned unofficial girlfriend, decided to intervene before either of them decided to start costing the team serious money in property damage, or actually start brawling. It had happened only once in the two years they'd been teammates, but it was not pretty, and definitely something you'd like to avoid.
So you knocked on Oscar's door.
“No!” he yelled from inside.
“It's just me, Osc! I'm coming in!” you answered, opening the door carefully before stepping in.
The sight before you was hot pitiful.
Stuff was everywhere. Several things including his phone and a bottle of water, were smashed next to the wall separating the two drivers.
His helmet was on the other side of the room, his massage table was upside-down and the sofa cushions had been thoroughly roughed-up and strewn around the room.
And in the middle of all this was Oscar, still in his race suit, red faced and panting hard, sweat soaked hair plastered on his forehead.
The way he looked at you almost made your knees buckle. You'd barely ever seen him so angry.
He'd managed to keep his carefully composed image together after the race and during the interviews, but now, now he was letting it all out.
As you walked in his features softened ever so slightly and he rushed towards you, enveloping you in a tight hug. So tight you could barely breathe.
Neither of you said anything, bodies entertwined, just gently rocking to whatever shit-stirring music the prick next door had selected.
God, he wanted to punch him so bad.
He would have to find another way to let out his pent up aggression.
He made noise low in his throat before his hands started trailing downwards. Down to cup your ass and squeeze, hard.
You squeaked and jumped in his hold but he held firm, keeping you pressed against him.
He was breathing hard against your neck and you almost felt like he was about to eat you alive.
“Oscar?” you tried, no response.
He roughly turned you around and pushed you down onto the only thing he'd left intact, the desk.
The conveniently empty desk, which was against the same wall that the music was coming from.
The force with which he pushed you made you stumble, and you just about caught yourself before you almost got a concussion.
“Oscar, what-” you started to say, but the sound of him quickly unzipping his suit and his hand coming to push you down cut you off.
“Baby I love you, but right now I just need you to bend over and take it.”
You whole body shuddered at his tone, and he chuckled darkly.
“I knew you would like this, my little slut is up for anything.”
He very rarely talked to you like that, or got into this kind of mood, but when he did you turned into mush.
You enjoyed careful, loving, passionate Oscar as much as the next person. But this Oscar… this one was a real treat.
The hand between your shoulder blades pinned you down while the other one pushed your cute little skirt up and pushed your underwear to the side.
Two fingers breached you and you moaned loud, hopefully covered by Lando's music.
“God you're so wet. I think i'll just slide in.” Oscar pumped his fingers a few times before going to push his fireproofs down around his thighs, freeing his cock that had been at least half hard ever since he'd crossed the finish line.
“I'm going to need you to be louder than that if we want Lando to hear how good I'm treating my girlfriend” he muttered darkly into your ear.
You gasped and didn't even have time to protest before you heard him spit in his hand and cover his cock, carefully putting it against you and pushing in, just over half way.
It's a good thing you were lying down on the desk, because your legs went completely numb as the feeling of his thick cock stretched you open.
“Fuck, that's good. You're my good girl aren't you? Gonna take all of my cock like I know you can?”
You couldn't answer, but he adjusted his position and thrusted in all the way in, and the noise you let out definitely wasn't covered by Lando's music.
You'd be surprised if the whole building hadn't heard you, and you would be worried about it if it weren't for the amazing dick you were currently getting.
You literally couldn't shut your mouth. Your jaw was wide open and Oscar didn't hesitate to stick two of his fingers in there to ensure you couldn't hide your moans.
The loudest moans you'd ever produced came spilling out at every thrust, and Oscar couldn't help but feel proud of the pleasure he was managing to give you while being so selfish.
Because he wasn't doing this for you, he was doing this for himself, for his pride, to let out his frustration and anger, and mostly to piss off Lando.
You were unable to move, the pressure on your back was pushing you roughly against the desk, you could barely breathe, every thrust sent your hipbones knocking into the edge of the desk, your cervix was taking a beating, and your nails were splitting because of how hard you were scratching the surface under you.
It was fucking perfect.
As the desk rocked, the edge of it hit the wall repeatedly and you were sure Oscar had placed it there on purpose. Just to make a point to Lando, that Oscar had someone there for him. Someone he could count on who loved him. Someone he could use.
And use you he did. You were floating, brain like tv static as Oscar gripped your hips hard enough to bruise and pounded into you harder than he ever had before.
You felt so high on pleasure that your orgasm came and went almost unnoticed by you, but Oscar definitely noticed.
He quickly pulled out, ripped your now ruined underwear off, and turned you over on the desk.
“Fuck, look at you. Completely drunk on my cock.”
He slid back inside and started thrusting straight into your g-spot with renewed vigour.
“Fuck baby you're so good for me. My good girl, all for me.”
If you hadn't been completely out of it, you'd have noticed how Oscar was speaking unnaturally loudly, and throwing angry glances at the wall every now and then. Again, this wasn't for your benefit.
“You can give me another one can't you? Come on baby, come all over the cock that's making you feel so good”
He was nailing your sweet spot dead on every time and a hand had joined the party to thumb lazily at your clit, lighting your whole body on fire.
This one you definitely felt coming, it was building deep inside you, making your toes curl and your breaths come out in high pitched whines, and you registered a new wetness between your thighs.
“ Perfect girl, Perfect fucking cunt.”
Oscar was over the moon, he was making you squirt all over him, the desk and the carpet.
“Yes baby, fuck- good girl. Fucking soak me baby that's it.”
He only lasted a couple of thrust before the image of you limp in his arms, eyes rolled back and thighs clamping around him trying to stop his assault on your overstimulated pussy, overwhelmed him and he came with a shout.
His hips stilled as he felt like his soul had been sucked out via his dick.
It took you a few minutes to regain control of your limbs. Oscar had fucked all the energy straight out of you.
You noticed the music next door had stopped completely. And then the realisation of what just happened set in.
Oscar had just fucked your brains out, and everyone, including Lando had probably heard you.
It got Lando and Oscar to stop fighting, and to you surprise you never got repremanded for inappropriate workplace behaviour.
But to no one's surprise, Lando never put his music on higher than 50% volume ever again
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Text
Yandere Elite Serial Killer (2)
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Part 1
Like frightened deer you scatter
In your opinion, you get pretty far
At one point climbing up high to see where the lights of the small town were
You were making great time 
“(Y/n)! Down here!”
The sun was rising and while you were hesitant you did go to meet ‘Piggie’
She seems high-spirited for such a horrible situation
But she shares the berries she’s found that weren’t poisonous
And clues you in on some helpful camping knowledge
So you’re none the wiser when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head 
 Waking bleary-eyed to the tight hold of a bloody rope around you 
The sun has long since set and all you can gather is that you're tied to a tree 
You hesitate to call for the girl only for somebody’s nails to dig into your scalp
It's her and she looks deranged covered in dirt and blood (it doesn’t look like it's hers)
Being sure to throw rocks and kick at you for emphasis she explains how she already knows the major twist of this hunt
They own the town 
No help would have been given if you had arrived there
Or even to the airport 
So she says she’s going to stand her ground to entrap them the second they come for the bait
And the bait just so happens to be you
When you ask her why it’s because she hates your pity
“At least when they kick me in the dirt they have the decency to know I belong there!”
She sounds demented 
But determined
So much so you’re sure if this was a movie she’d be the 'final girl'
But you’re here so that’s not happening
Hearing sticks snap and bushes shake you’re sure they’re on the way
So you shut your eyes in fear
Saying your final prayers as you feel the heat of another person stalking up to you
“How disappointing I expected you to get farther.”
It sounds like something he’d say before lobbing off your head
So you prepare for the oncoming blow 
Only to hear a shotgun fire off 
‘Piggie’ screams
So you look up to see Wille grinning madly in that direction before turning back to you 
He holds your face gently but firmly
Turning your head as he examines you 
“She really did a number on you.” 
He sighs snapping his fingers 
An unknown masked person cuts through the ropes 
Holding you on their back and securing the back of your knees
“Take them back to my room and patch them up I’ll gladly delight in my prize once I’ve finished.”
Wille takes off in a giddy sprint as he watches another masked servant drive off in a quad bike with you on the back
Now that the only real stake in this hunt is out he can really let loose
He’s been doing this for a long while
Enticing the masses at whatever new college or preparatory school he could 
Providing a plentiful harvest for his family 
And it’s great for a while but unfortunately, he just hasn’t found what’s missing 
His mother and father have each other and their pets respectively
His brother does as well
And then his sister…well she enjoys just hunting
But he was never like her
He took care of his appearance more, grew his hair long, and wasn’t pretending to be an apathetic prick
Though he could see how easy it was to become that way
He hates how forward people are when they want something from him or his family
He does admire the tenacity of the poor
But among the fellow rich? 
Absolutely unforgivable
He can only imagine the terrified faces he stalks being that of those hated elites
And of course, in the midst of a mission to harvest is when he becomes aware of you
It’s not really any one thing you do 
You just happen to exist close enough to his latest harvest grounds
It’s not your college but something of a rival school
And all it takes is one mutual and he’s whipped
Suddenly he’s decided that you're the perfect one for him
The prize  that’s greater than anything he could buy
To be Continued
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natalievoncatte · 4 months
Text
“Director Danvers, Lena Luthor is here.”
Alex stared at the speaker on her desk for a moment, feeling her anger rise. She didn’t need this now. Whatever stunt Lena was pulling, now was not the time. She had fires to put out and Supergirl was out of the fight.
Kara, a voice whispered. Kara, your sister.
Alex’s prime directive was take care of Kara. Yet here she was, again, dealing wit the aftermath of Kara being knocked down and beaten to a pulp in service of people she didn’t even know. Half of them hated and feared her now.
How had she let this happen? By small allowances. Step A led to Step B and then on to Step C. It started with looking the other way while Kara foiled robberies and rescued cats from trees and led to Kara defacto joining an organization whose mandate was, on paper, to imprison her or worse. She told herself that she was doing good, that between her and J’onn, they had become the wolves keeping the wolves from the door. Under the right leadership, an organization mandated to “control” aliens could help and protect them.
It gave her no comfort when Kara was lying in the sunroom unconscious, and the government was breathing down Alex’s neck while J’onn was off finding himself on some pacifist bullshit quest.
(Why did their fathers always leave them? Were the Danvers girls doomed to face everything alone?)
Now Lena was here. Luthor’s sister. Alex had let herself trust this woman and she wasn’t sure how that happened either.
Might have been because her kid sister, her precious dumbass kid sister, was over the moon for her Lena and didn’t even know it.
It was Luthor who did this to Kara, Luthor and his allies. Alex had enough of this. There would be no trial this time. No public spectacle. She didn’t care if it ended her career or even her freedom, she was going to kill him, because Kara couldn’t. Kara would always look for the other way, the perfect solution. She was beautiful and good, a hero who came from the heaven to set things right. A saint.
Alex was not and she never pretended she could be.
She drummed her fingers on the desk and stared at the speaker and said, “Keep her in the lobby.”
“No, Director, I mean she’s here, outside your door. We… she can be persuasive.”
Alex reached over wearily and hit the button to open the doors.
Lena marched in, and the sight of her took Alex aback. The boardroom predator with the razor sharp hairstyle, flawless makeup and fuck me pumps was gone, replaced by what Alex would think was Lena’s kid sister under other circumstances. She looked her age, for once, dressed in faded jeans and a threadbare MIT sweatshirt, carrying a battered messenger bag.
Alex had never seen Lena so bedraggled. Her hair was a chaos of unkempt curls pulled into a low ponytail and she was sans makeup, and for good reason. Her eyes were painfully red and the tracks of her tears were as livid as if they’d been left by claws. Her bottom lip was trembling and she fiddled with the strap of her bag.
“Close the door,” said Lena. “Can we talk here? Is this room secure?”
Alex pushed the button and closed the doors.
She had barely said “Yes”.
“Where’s Kara?”
“Not here. Why would she be at the-“
“Don’t fuck with me, Alex.”
Alex looked at her sharply. “I don’t know what you think you’re going to accomplish here with this, after you started working with Lex again.”
Lena stormed forward and slammed her palms on the desk, rattling Alex’s possessions. She leaned forward and glared with Alex with a furious, teeth-baring demand.
“The clone almost killed her. Where is she?”
Alex swallowed hard. “I’m not sure what-“
Lena cut her off. “I know Kara is Supergirl, Alex. I need to see her. Please.”
Alex rocked back in her chair as if struck by a physical force. The words slam into her chest like a brick into her sternum.
She knows.
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’ve know for months. But you have to listen to me. Lex knew. He told me her identity, tried to throw it in my face so I’d turn on her. He knew her real name, he knew about you, he knew about your mother. You have to do something now.”
“Oh my God,” Alex said, standing. Mom.
“He wasn’t going to stop, Alex!” Lena blurted, almost hysterical. “He was never going to stop. He was going to kill her, he swore to me that she was going to die. I had to do it!”
“Do what?” Alex whispered.
“I had to kill him,” Lena wailed, balling her fists impotently as if she were trying to choke her own soul. “I had to!”
The reality of it slams into Alex and before she knows it she’s rushed around the desk to throw her arms around her friend, all thoughts of Luthors and loyalty and everything else going out the window as Lena sobs into her should.
“I killed my big brother.”
Lena’s voice so so small, so broken, that Alex can’t help but sob with her.
The fucking bastard just wouldn’t stop hurting them, even in death. Alex didn’t believe in hell but she wished she did for Lex Luthor.
Lena’s sobbing ebbed but did not fade entirely. There was only one cure for that.
“Come on, let’s go see our girl.”
Alex led Lena outside. First, she flagged down Brainy and gave quick, clipped orders: Get Eliza and get her here now, and find Nia and do the same. Then make a list of anyone Lex might have targeted and find them and get them secured.
Then she took Lena to the sunroom. They stopped outside and Alex handed her a pair of silly looking goggles.
“We can’t stay long, the light is too intense even with sunscreen, and you look like you burn.”
“Like a lobster,” Lena choked, pitifully.
Alex entered the code and opened the door.
Kara lay on the padded bed in a paper gown, bathed in sunlight. She was a mass of bruises and her right arm and left leg were in casts, a collar wound her neck. She’d been unconscious for three days now, possibly in the same kind of healing hibernation she’d fallen into after her first fight with Reign.
Lena rushed to Kara’s side and cupped her cheeks with her hands, brushing back sweat-dampened hair.
“Oh God,” Lena blurted, “oh please oh God Kara wake up.”
“She’s been out for days,” said Alex. “She’s stable, just not coming around. This has happened before. We think it’s part of how her body heals serious injuries. It just takes time. She’ll wake on her own when she’s ready.”
Lena didn’t even seem to hear her. She leaned down with an intensity and intimacy that shocked Alex to the core, and then shocked her further. Lena loosed three words in a language from a dead world that she has no business knowing.
“Zhao w rrip.”
Alex was thunderstruck. Lena knew Kryptonian?
“Lex had a translation dictionary,” said Lena. “I just hope I pronounced it right.”
“We need to go,” Alex said, glumly. “You can stay at the DEO. We could use your help and it’s safer for you here anyway.”
“Just let me stay another minute. Please.”
“If I do, your face will be peeling off tomorrow. We can visit again later. Come on.”
“I can’t,” Lena choked out. “I can’t leave her.”
Alex was an about to say something else when her mother fell open. Kara’s eyes fluttered open and she immediately turned to Lena, bleary-eyed.
“Did you mean that?”
“Yes, Kara, I meant it.”
“But zhao means-“
“I know what it means,” Lena insisted, so full of joy now. “I know what it means, darling. That’s how I meant it. I love you, Kara.”
Oh.
Alex swallowed hard. She didn’t want to interrupt but Lena, and not to mention Alex herself, would get very sick very fast if they didn’t leave this room.
Lena grasped Kara’s uninjured hand.
“You have to go. It’s not safe for humans in here.”
Lena swallowed hard, her throat bobbing.
“Before I… can I…?”
“Yes,” Kara whispered.
Lena darted down and gave Kara a quick, soft kiss on her lips, lingering for just a moment. Kara smiled at her and their hands slid apart as Alex half dragged Lena out of the room and closed the door, then ripped off her sun shades and stared.
“How long?” she breathed.
“I’ve been in love with her for at least for years now,” Lena said, her voice cracking a little. “I’ve wanted to tell her for so long.”
Lips trembling, Alex was besieged. She remembered every time that she told Kara to stay away, not to trust her, not to tell her. The weight of what she has done presses her down as firmly as the knowledge that Kara will be healed soon lifts her up. There’s only one thing she can do.
She swept Lena into a bear hug.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for doubting you and pushing you apart. I’m sorry I didn’t see sooner.”
Lena, at last, fully broke down in Alex’s arms. Later, when Eliza arrived, she passed off Lena-hugging duties to her mother until Kara was fully awake and can leave the sunroom.
Then, Alex went and did what you do for family.
She got rid of the body.
627 notes · View notes
spookysteddie · 9 months
Text
That Friday Night
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Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
read part one here
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: alcohol, drugs (weed and cocaine), clubbing, slight Dom!Eddie if you squint, possessive!Eddie, swearing, pet names, oral (fem!receiving), light choking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, edging, creampie. (let me know if I missed anything)
wc: 4.3k (I'm so sorry)
a/n: First of all, I want to thank every single person who liked, reblogged or made comments about part one. I was shitting myself posting it because (like I said) this is not an original thought. I'd read a few and it gave me this wave of inspiration. I am very proud of this part. It's also a little long (sorry sorry sorry I couldn't stop) . Also I don't think I'll be doing a tag list? When I used to do that no one on the list would like the fic and it was a lot of work. I hope that is okay? Let me know if you want more! I love and appreciate all of you!
...
You weren’t the type of person who got shy. Your entire job is being in front of a camera, telling people what you like, what you wear, the type of music you listen to. You did brand deals and went on lots of trips with people you didn’t know. Public interaction was easy for you and you definitely enjoyed it. 
But being personally invited to your favorite band's concert (even if you had tickets already) as their frontman's personal guest? It makes you weak in the knees. 
Telling your team about the phone call went about as good as one would expect. Anna and Case frown at you while continuing to say ‘you could’ve let it go to voicemail and we could’ve handled it directly with his people. AND why did you have him send the information directly to you?’
They weren't necessarily wrong in being upset. There were plenty of ways a conversation like that could be twisted and fucked with, especially if, for whatever reason, someone was recording the phone call. It was very easy for them to manipulate and edit that kind of shit, and drama was the last thing you wanted. 
However, the rest of the week went by without an issue. The gossip magazines had moved on to something else (though there were a few who continued to speculate about your non-relationship with Eddie. You did your deals, and kept yourself busy. And by the time Friday rolled around you were hardly nervous. 
Or that’s what you kept telling yourself. 
“Bell bottom star pants. Absolutely,” Hana says from her place on your bathroom counter, practically in the sink. “With that black leather top you love AND the red leather jacket. Oh! Oh! Oh! And the red boots!” 
You put the outfit on, looking in the mirror, “you don’t think it’s too… stereotypical?” 
Hana looks at you through the mirror, “no such thing. You look great.” 
Hana was one of the few people in your life who’d tell you like it is. You could trust her to tell you if her gut feelings were off, or on. She was your best friend and one of the few people who weren’t just here for the exposure. She’s here to be your cheerleader and you were hers. 
“Alright, let's get this going before I change my mind which I am two seconds away from doing.” 
… 
You should’ve changed your mind. 
You can hardly keep from throwing up as you're led by security to a private entrance. To get there you have to pass by their tour buses. All you can hear is loud music and whooping from inside. It’s clear they’re running around in there as the bus is rocking and all you can do is pray they don’t see you. 
You’re far too sober for the interaction you’ll be having at this current time. 
Unfortunately for you, the universe hates you. Just when you think you’re home free, the door opens, almost smacking you in the face. 
“Don’t think you can get away that easy, Asher,” Eddie says as he looks down at you. His pupils are blown wide, clearly from whatever drug he’s consumed. More than likely cocaine and weed. His words aren’t slurred so he isn’t drunk, though he does have a beer bottle in his large hands. 
God his hands, there have been many times where you’d imagine them wrapped around your throat, cutting off air as he fucks you like he hates you. You bet he could reach you even as he’s eating you out, he’s so tall and long. 
You wish you could say the grin you shoot at him is fake, however with the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour and smother you, it's not. You feel like a fucking school girl who has a crush. Your heart pounds so fast in your chest and you swear everyone around you can hear it. 
“We weren’t running away,” you say, voice a little breathier than you’d like. “Um this is my best friend-” 
“Hana, nice to meet you,” he cuts you off. It’s then that you see his eyes get wide and you know he’s been stalking your profile. Not that you can say anything because you’ve done it… a lot. “I, uh, saw the instagram story you put up earlier.” 
Hana smirks, “sure you did, big boy.” She pats his chest and is clearly much braver than you. That’s another thing about you and her, if one of you is feeling not confident, the other makes up for it. Like, on your own, asking for ketchup feels like cutting off a limb, but if she can't do it then it's up to you and vice versa. 
Eddie scratches the back of his neck, his black t-shirt stretching over his wide shoulder, “want to join us? We have alcohol!” 
“We would love that. Wouldn’t we?” Hana looks down at you with her brows raised, still taller than you in heels. 
You nod, “yes. Yeah absolutely! Are we allowed to photograph in here?” 
You know it’s a stupid thing to ask, but you also don’t want to take a photo of you and Hana and then not be able to post it. And what if you get photos with the rest of the band? Everyone already knows you’re going to be here. Just not… in this tour bus. 
Eddie nods, holding out his hand, “you are allowed to do whatever you want, pretty girl. And if anyone has an issue, send them my way, yeah?” He kisses the hand you’ve placed in his before leading you up the stairs of his bus. 
It's chaos in there, pure and utter chaos. You turn to look at Hana, silently telling her how insane this is. She nods slightly, but you see the grin on her face. Hana loves this stuff; the parties, the madness, all of it.
Eddie introduces you to the band, pulling you in closer by the waist. “You all need to be on your best behavior. No one touches her. Do you all understand me?” Your heart flutters at how serious he is and it instantly forces his bandmates eyes to fall to your feet. It’s impressive, actually. 
Suddenly, a bottle of beer is in your hands, passed to you by Eddie. “Oh… thank you.” You can hardly look at him as a small smile forms on your lips. His attention makes you feel all kinds of funny inside, your stomach doing flips. You know you have to look at him eventually, but he’s just so pretty that it actually hurts. 
“Um, so are you excited for your show?” This time you manage to actually drag your eyes to his. He smiles at you, his teeth so beautiful and perfect. It’s when he sits down that you realize that was a stupid question. Of course he’s excited. This is his actual job. 
He leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you through his lashes, you could kiss him. But you don’t for obvious reasons. Reasons you can't really think of at the moment. Not when he’s looking at you like that.  The beer bottle hangs in his right hand between his legs. 
“Very. Not much comes close to the feeling I get when we’re on that stage.” He shakes his head, curly hair moving with him, “plus, being able to hear people sing my songs back to me is fucking incredible.” 
His hand finds yours, pulling you a little closer. Eddie is testing the waters, you know this. Unfortunately for you, your brain can’t see through the cloud of lust. So, you let him pull you closer, sit you on his lap, and wrap an arm around you. 
Your brain does catch up, quicker than expected. “It seems like it’d be incredible. I applaud you cause I could never do that. I have stage fright.” 
He blinks up at you, “stage fright? Haven’t you done red carpet interviews and stuff?” 
You shift a little, shrugging, “well yes. But that’s different.” You can't stop the awkward laugh that comes out of you. It was true, it was different. You weren’t exactly sure why but it was. 
Eddie's thumb moves along your side slightly and it leaves goosebumps in its wake. 
“I’m being honest, the lights are so bright that I can’t see everyone in the crowds. Mainly just the front rows. Makes it easier.” 
Eddie puts his beer bottle on the ground by his feet before sitting up and grabbing a joint. He’s quiet as he lights it, puffing out smoke to get it going. “Want some?” 
He holds the joint towards you, waiting for your answer. You’ve done this before at the frat houses at college. You’ve done it here and there in high school as well. This is second nature, but this time you’re nervous. What if you forget how to inhale? What if you throw up? Any number of things can happen. 
Something happens inside you and your brain finally catches up to itself. A small stroke of confidence happens and without taking your eyes off of him, you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the joint and inhaling. His eyes stay locked on yours, his tongue wetting his lips. You pull back, slowly blowing out the smoke. 
“Fuckin’ hell.” It comes out in a whisper and you know he didn’t mean to say it out loud. His eyes falling from your eyes, to your lips and back again. 
God you want to kiss him. His pillowy lips would feel amazing against yours, you just know it. You start to lean into him, desperate to know if you’re right.   
A bang on the door scares the fuck out of the both of you and Eddies boot knocks over his bottle. It’s a good thing he drank most of it, the contents not spilling on the plush carpet. 
“Let’s get going guys. Put your dicks back in your pants, we have a show to do.” You know that voice, that’s their manager. He’s the one who called your people to make sure you had all the rules for this evening. 
Photos are fine. 
Everyone must be tagged. 
Nothing negative. 
Absolutely no photos of any white substances. Even if it’s sugar. 
That last one would be hard considering it was on every flat surface in neat, clean lines. 
You go to stand up, but Eddie stops you, his hand tightening on your hip. “Promise I’ll see ya after?” 
You nod, “y-yeah of course.” 
Before you know it, his lips are on yours. The kiss is soft, sweet and you don’t want it to end. In fact, you totally forget about all the other people in the room. Your hands find his face, pulling him closer as his tongue begs for permission. And once you grant it, it’s game over. 
He tastes like beer and weed and cigarettes and you love it. You want more. You want to get closer. 
But it’s not long before the door to his trailer opens up, his manager stepping into the bus. “I said get your dicks and tongues together. We cannot be late.” 
… 
By the time the show is over you barely have a voice, and you’re sure you’ve never been more turned on in your life. It might seem silly to say, but Eddie's kiss lingered the entire show and all you want is more. 
Back stage the band is still running on adrenaline, drinking water for once to try and refuel for the rest of the night. The rest of the night being a club that they frequent. A club you don’t go to because of that exact reason. 
“Ohhhhh! There's the prettiest girls I’ve ever laid eyes on!” Eddie's voice booms as security goes to double check you and Hana. “Hey! Leave them alone. They’re with me.” 
Security stands back, hands raise like he knows it’ll cause more issues if he doesn’t. You almost feel bad for the poor guy, he was just trying to do his job. Like what if you had a bomb or something? 
“C’mon we gotta get outta here.” He laces his fingers with yours before he pulls you along with him. You look over your shoulder, catching Hana's eyes. 
Go! She mouths, hanging off Gareth's arm. I’ll meet you there! 
And so, you go. Are you nervous? Yes absolutely. Are you going to pretend you aren’t and have some confidence? Yes. Fake it till you make it right?
Eddie opens the door to the car, extending a hand, “ladies first.” 
You grin at him as you elegantly slide into the car, “wow. I didn’t know you were such a gentle man.” This time when you giggle, it's cute and self assured. 
“Yes, I have been told my entire life that I look,” he slides in sucking in a soft, thinking breath, “mean and scary.” 
“You look like a doberman but they’re precious babies.” You mean it too. He looks a little mean and scary, especially in the red lights of the stage. Not to mention the “devil music” (says the media) which can get a little dark. But that’s what makes it great, in your opinion. Plus, he does look like doberman. Like he could probably kill you but would actually not? 
“‘Precious babies?’” 
You nod, “mhm! I grew up with them. Very sweet and love kisses. Oh! And they each had their own comfort toys.” 
“Then maybe I am one because I do love kisses.” He’s closer now, his breath fanning over your face. He still smells like beer and cigarettes mixed in with the smell of his cologne. 
It’s your turn to close the gap and planting your lips on his. The kiss is hotter, more intense. One could argue it’s because of the alcohol swimming in your system that makes you so bold. You’re buzzed, but not drunk. It isn’t long before his hands are in your hair, tugging. It makes you moan in his mouth, opening up to him. 
He sits back, his hands in your hair pulling you with him, making you sit in his lap. Your legs rest on either side of his hips, your cunt nestled right against the bulge in his pants. He couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to. You test the waters by rocking your hips, the friction being so sweet that you’re the one who lets out a moan. 
“God, that is the sweetest sound I’ve ever heard.” He kisses down your neck, nipping and sucking as he goes. “Should record it and use it in our next song.” 
You hum and grin, “I wouldn’t mind that. Always wanted to be in a song. Can’t sing though.”  
He nips at your ear, “that’s my job baby.” 
Eddie's large hand grips your hips, stopping your movements. You want to whine, you want to protest. You were so fucking close. 
“We’ll save that for when we're back at my place.” 
You grin and kiss along his jaw, “who says I’m going back to your place?” 
“The way you were just grindin’ against my cock, angel.” He grins, “also with how you’re lookin’ at me.” 
“And how am I looking at you? Hmm?” 
“Like you want me to fuck you while your brain leaks out your cunt.” 
You shudder at the crudeness of his words. No one has ever spoken to you like that and looked like him. The car stopping in front of the club saves you from trying to come up with an answer. One you know will either be embarrassing or non-existent. 
He looks over at the paparazzi that is waiting and sighs, “are we going in together or…” 
The decision you make is quick. If you’re going to do this, even for one night, you’re going to do it together and let them talk. You give him a quick kiss, “together. Give ‘em something to talk about, yeah?” 
So, you do. 
The second you’re out of the car, cameras flash and photographers call out a mix of your name and his and you can hardly understand what they’re saying. You don’t stop to pose, letting them only photograph you and him walking hand and hand. Give them crumbs as your manager says. Once you’re in the club, not even needing to show an ID or give a name. 
From there the night happens in a blur. The band has the VIP section where bottles of expensive liquor are brought over by women dressed in a bikini. You know how much all of this costs (more than you can afford that’s for sure) but you also know that all of this is on Eddie and the bands tab. He’s told you six times. 
So you drink. And you smoke. And you watch pretty white lines disappear, most of which disappear up Eddie's nose. Of course you take videos, vlogging your night and making sure to follow all the rules that were set prior to this meeting. Taking photos to remember the night. Hana is having a blast, taking shots like it’s her job and making out with Gareth in between. Of course she takes photos with you, sitting in your lap and giggling so much the photos come out blurry. But those are your favorite kinds of photos. 
“Dance with me?” Eddie says in your ear over the music. 
You take the shot that is in your hands, “lead the way.” 
The second you’re surrounded by sweaty bodies you feel invisible. You’re sure someone has cameras on you and him but at the moment you don’t care. 
Your hips move to the music, back against Eddie's chest while his hands explore your body. His lips move against your neck, sucking a dark mark into it that you know you’ll struggle to cover later. Again, you don’t care. What you do care about is the hardness that you feel against your back. 
You spin around, grinning up at him. God he’s so fucking tall you have to tilt your head up a good bit to look at him. 
“We should get out of here,” you say as he pulls you into him. 
He smirks, “thought you weren’t coming back to my place sweetheart.” 
“Seems I told a fib. Now, I need you to take me home and fuck me like you hate me.” 
It’s all he needs before he’s grabbing you by the hand and pulling you out of the club. The car is there and he quickly pulls you into the back seat. Once those doors are closed, the window tint so dark you couldn’t see inside if you tried, his mouth his on yours. Your stomach flips and the neediness you feel coming off of him. He pulls you till you’re straddling him, legs on either side of his hips. Not really the safest but at this point, all you need is his lips on you. 
The ride to Eddie’s consists of lots of kissing, so much so that you know your lips are swollen. You don’t get to see much of Eddie’s house, too focused on getting inside the house and into his bedroom. He drags you up the stairs, your hand is his. And once you’re in his room, he has you pressed up against his bedroom door. 
“You’re so fucking hot, baby.” Eddie pushes your jacket off your shoulders while he speaks, his words going straight to your clit. Your mind can barely comprehend that Eddie Munson, the man you’ve had a crush on since they were considered an ‘underground band,’ is currently taking off your clothes. 
You do the same to him, pushing his leather jacket to the ground before tugging at the ends of his shirt and pulling it over his head. “Me? You are so beautiful.” 
He hums, popping the button on your jeans, “should we take a poll on who's prettier? Winner takes the loser on a date?” 
That makes you laugh, “sounds like a deal. But first, you need to fuck me.” 
His eyes nearly go black at that and before you can think, he’s throwing you on this bed. You land with a small oomph. You decide to take a little initiative, pulling off your boots, scooting off your pants and pulling off your top. 
Eddie watches, rapt and almost possessed, his eyes scanning your partially naked body. It’s not anything more than someone would see if you posted in a bathing suit, but you can’t help but feel nervous that he isn’t going to like you. 
He quickly puts those fears (fears he knows nothing about) to rest as he settles between your legs. His eyes don’t leave yours as he kisses up your thighs. You know there is a wet patch on your underwear and you know he can see it. You do feel embarrassed about it, but at the same time, Eddie is slightly rutting against the bed so he must like it. Right? 
You can feel your body heat as he gets closer and closer to your center. 
“Eddie, please don’t tease me.” Never have you begged a man. Typically whoever you were in bed with did the begging, much to your dislike. You were desperate for someone to take charge. Now you know why they didn’t. One bruise and they get shit from all your followers. Even if you tell them to leave these men alone. 
But Eddie? He wasn’t afraid. 
“But it’s so much fun to watch you squirm.” 
You huff, squirming exactly like he said as he sits up to pull your underwear down your legs before setting back between them. “Need you to touch me.” 
He licks a stripe up your slit, sucking on your clit as he gets to the top. The sound that falls from your lips is beautiful, sweeter than the sound you made in the car. Now Eddie really wants to put you in a song, but the jealous, primal side of him never wants someone else to be able to hear your moans. 
In fact, he doesn’t want to think about any of the other men who’ve heard you make these sounds. Murder wasn't really on his list of things he enjoyed. Bar fights? Yes. Murder? No. 
“You make the prettiest sounds, sweetheart. S’very hot.”  He slides two fingers inside you with little resistance, curling them up to hit the spongy spot inside you. The stretch feels good, your hips moving on their own, riding Eddie's fingers. 
You're close, the build up of this moment really getting closer than you originally thought. “Squeezin’ my fingers so tight, baby. Are you close?” 
You nod, afraid if you speak you’ll say something ridiculous. 
But that isn’t good enough for Eddie. “Words.” 
“V-very.” 
That was clearly the wrong thing to say because he pulls his fingers from inside you, the emptiness making you gasp, “no! No, no, no I was so close!” 
He laughs as he pushes his pants and boxers off his body. “Exactly. Want you to cum with my cock inside you.” 
You look down between your bodies and your eyes widen. He was big and you accidentally voice what you’re thinking, “fuck… not gonna fit.” 
His laugh drags your eyes back to him, his cock moving through your slick and bumping your clit. “Baby you are so wet that I have no doubt it’ll fit.”  
You don’t have time to be embarrassed about it because Eddie is pushing inside you. The size of him stretching you makes you feel like he’s going to split you in half. But you don’t care, the burn just turns you on more and more and before you know it he’s seated inside you fully. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” 
Eddie is panting, trying to keep still so he doesn’t cum before he wants to. “Feel so fuckin’ good, sweetheart. A man could become obsessed with this pussy.” 
He moves right as you begin to speak, nearly knocking the air out of your lungs. He feels like he’s everywhere. “W-witchcraft” 
He fucks you harder, his cock hitting your cervix. You’re definitely going to have a bruise there but it's so worth it. 
“Didn’t know you were into dark shit. S’my schtick.” 
You wrap your legs around him, orgasm building again, “more alike than you originally thought huh?” 
He wraps a tattooed hand around your throat, squeezing gently and making your head spin, “oh, angel, I knew how alike we were the second you told everyone how bad you wanted to fuck me.” 
“C-can you blame me? Knew you’d fuck me just h-how I like.” 
You clench around him making him hiss, “yeah you need someone who will take control huh?” 
The hand around your neck slides down your body till he finds your clit, circling it. 
“Oh god! Please.” 
“I can get used to you prayin’ to me.” His thrusts are losing rhythm (something he’s usually very good at keeping) and you know he’s close. “Cum baby. I need it.” 
And it’s all you need to fall over the cliff and into bliss. He follows you, coming inside you while you squeeze around him. You both moan each other's names and you sigh as you come down. 
Eddie breaks the silence first, “that was… amazing.” 
You hum in agreement as he slides out of you and curls up beside you. You take a moment before getting up and cleaning up in the bathroom. When you come back Eddie has left out an old Corroded Coffin t-shirt and some boxers. And once they’re on, you slide back into his bed, laying your head on his chest.
“We should put that poll up, huh? I’m itching to win this bet.” Eddie laughs as he says it and before you know it, you two are finding a photo the both of you like and posting it on your story with the caption, ‘which one is prettier? Honesty is the best policy.’ 
“And now… we wait.”
884 notes · View notes
gubsbuubs · 7 months
Text
Hotch’s Daughter
(18+nsfw)
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Hotch´sDaughter!reader
Word Count: ~ 6.5K
Warnings/Tags: Lots of teasing, BANTER, Hotch´s!Daughter,smut, Enemies to Lovers.
Request: This one-shot was inspired by a request for an enemies-to-lovers featuring Hotch's daughter and Spencer Reid -》 basically I've been having this thought for a few weeks now and I'm embarrassed to ask, I thought of something with a..I don't know if I can call it that enemies to (fuck) enemies, hate sex maybe (?) something like Hotch's oldest daughter It's somewhere between s9 and s12 Reid (whichever you think is best) and a difference of about 7 to 9 years. Reid just doesn't like Hotch's oldest daughter because he thinks she's maybe a little irresponsible (not that she's just a 20-something woman who's a hard-partying college student [that's not that important, so just extra info]) something like that also Y/N always teasing Reid in a passive-aggressive way (I have no idea what examples, sorry) when no one is around I don't know if you have a list of tips, but I would also like something like during sex "You've always wanted to fuck your boss's daughter, right Reid" and again LOTS of teasing during sex. I kind of thought of something like a college party where Y/N is like “competing at beerpong” or something (not drunk enough to be drunk) and for whatever reason Reid is at this party (a case or something or like Morgan dragging Spencer to a party with the excuse of "I know this guy and he's having a party and I feel like you need to relax Spencer", so he drags Reid to the party) and the rest (Y/ N and Reid) end up in a room alone. I know I've already asked for a lot, but I'd also like something like Morgan looking for Reid and hearing the “little noises” he and Y/N make through the door and the next day teasing him at work with it 🤭
Summary: Y/n, Hotch’s daughter, cleverly exploits Spencer’s boundaries by flirting to incite him. While Spencer remains resolute in maintaining distance, the tension between them escalates until one day, he finds himself unable to resist.
A/N: Hi my loves! This is just filthy and it´s ginormous, so sorry.
My requests are open! 🍒
English is not my first language- barely proof read this
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As I strolled through the bustling bullpen, my sights set on the unit chief's office, I spotted Derek at his desk, buried under a mountain of paperwork as usual. With a mischievous grin, I called out to him, "D!! Party at my place Friday at ten p.m. You better show up."
Derek's head snapped up from his desk, his expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaimed, rising from his chair and halting me in my tracks. "What do you mean a party at your place, young lady?"
I chuckled softly at Derek's protective tone, he was more than just a family friend; he was like a brother to me. Working alongside my dad for years, Derek was an integral part of our family, just like the rest of the team. When my mom passed away, Derek's support was invaluable. Having experienced the loss of his own parent, he understood the depth of my grief like no one else could. He became my rock, offering solace and guidance through those dark days. I owe a lot to him; without his help, I doubt I would have had the strength to finish high school. He turned my pain into strength, helping me navigate through the toughest moments with his unwavering support and understanding. Derek's presence in my life has been a blessing, shaping me into the person I am today.
As I approached Derek's desk, I leaned down slightly to meet his gaze, a familiar smile playing on my lips. "You know… Mr. Hotcher and Jack are away for the weekend, visiting Beth," I said, my voice filled with excitement. "So, I'm inviting my friends from college to come over to my place to throw a party."
Derek chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement. "A college party? Really, Y/n?" he exclaimed with a hint of disbelief. "I'm way too old for all that."
I grinned, knowing Derek's idea of a good time might not align with the typical college scene. "Come on, Derek," I teased, nudging his arm gently. "You're never too old to let loose and have some fun. Plus, you'll fit right in with your timeless charm."
Derek chuckled again, his expression softening. "Alright, alright," he relented, a twinkle in his eye. "I'll make an appearance, but don't expect me to stay past my bedtime."
I gave him a playful wink and a grateful smile. "That's all I ask for," I told him as I made my way to my father´s office.
I knocked three times, as I always did, and without waiting for a response, I pushed the door open.
"Hi, sweetie," my father greeted me with a warm smile, his tone softening as he saw me enter. "What are you doing here?"
"Oh, I just need some help before you leave," I replied as I gave him a hug, "I knew you would be leaving tonight, and I just need some advice. I'm having trouble with a paper. It´s constitutional law, and I have to submit it next Monday."
As I sat on the chair across from his, eagerly awaiting my father's assistance, he remained focused on his paperwork at his desk. After a moment, he glanced up at me with a regretful expression.
"Honey, I'm sorry," he began, his tone apologetic. "But I'm not going to be able to help you. I have to leave in a couple of hours." He checked his watch, a sense of urgency evident in his voice. "I'm sorry, but I would really love to help you, but I can't."
"Oh, no, Dad!" I exclaimed, feeling a surge of panic rise within me. "I really need your help. Where the hell am I going to find someone else who knows about constitutional law?"
The urgency in my voice seemed to catch my father's attention, his expression softening with concern. "I understand, sweetheart," he said gently, "But I really have to leave soon. Is there anyone else you can reach out to for help?"
I shook my head, feeling overwhelmed by the thought of finding someone else to assist me on such short notice. "I don't know, Dad you're the only one I trust to help me with this."
"Well, I know of someone who could help you," my dad suggested, his tone thoughtful.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by his hint. "Who do you have in mind.
My dad hesitated for a moment before answering, "Spencer Reid."
Spencer and I had a history of butting heads, constantly at odds with each other. He seemed to harbor a deep-seated animosity towards me, viewing me as irresponsible and reckless. Our personalities clashed at every turn; he was the epitome of a straight-laced, by-the-book good boy, while I reveled in pushing boundaries and challenging authority.
It didn't take long for me to realize that I could get under his skin by flirting with him when no one else was around. It was like he was going crazy because I only did it when alone with him or when no one seemed to notice. And it wasn't like he could accuse me outright. After all, I was younger and his boss's daughter, so who would believe his crazy theories?
So what better way to annoy the brilliant, uptight Spencer Reid than to play with his emotions and disrupt his carefully controlled world? I knew it was a dangerous game, but I couldn't resist the thrill.
The only one who knew about my provocations and how annoyed Spencer got was Derek, and he always told Spencer he only got so mad because he knew he was attracted to me but couldn't lay a finger on me or Hotch would kill him. Spencer always denied it, but I share the same opinion as Derek.
With the passing years I noticed a subtle shift in Spencer's demeanor, while my flirtatious antics had initially left him flustered and embarrassed, over time, he seemed to grow more confident in his responses. No longer did he react with the same level of embarrassment as before.
Despite Spencer's growing confidence, the frustration I could provoke in him never truly dissipated. If anything, it seemed to intensify as he became more accustomed to my teasing. To an outsider, he appeared calm and composed, but beneath the surface, he was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at the slightest provocation.
Asking Spencer for his help would be no easy task. I knew he would likely deny it, given our history of butting heads and the tension that simmered between us. Despite his expertise in constitutional law, I couldn't shake the feeling that he would refuse to assist me, simply out of spite or a desire to avoid any further interaction with me.
"Dad, I appreciate the suggestion, but I don't think Spencer would be willing to assist me," I said hesitantly, choosing my words carefully.
“What? No! Of course he is; I know you two aren't that close, but he is definitely more than happy to help," he asserted confidently.
Before I could protest, my dad immediately dialed the number on the phone. "Spencer, can you come by my office, please?" He spoke to the receiver with authority. I watched in disbelief as my dad took charge of the situation, seemingly unfazed by any potential reservations I had about seeking Spencer's assistance.
As the call went through, a knot formed in my stomach, uncertainty gnawing at me. I felt a sense of resignation wash over me, realizing that protesting now would only complicate things further. With a heavy sigh, I decided to stay silent, choosing instead to lay back on the chair and stare up at the ceiling, lost in my thoughts as I waited for the impending arrival of Spencer.
Shortly after, a knock was heard at the front door, and I could feel my heart race with anticipation. "Come on in," my father said.
"You called for me, sir?" Spencer's voice filled the room as he entered, his presence commanding attention. "Reid, hi. Please, sit down," my dad gestured towards a chair.
As Spencer's eyes immediately locked with mine, I rose from my seat to allow him to take it. With deliberate steps, I made my way to stand behind my father, positioning myself so that Spencer's gaze was met with my silent presence looming over him.
"Well, Spencer," my dad began, his tone measured as he addressed him, "I asked you to come here because Y/n has a paper to do for constitutional law, and she requested my help, but I have to leave. So, I was wondering if maybe you could help her."
As my dad spoke, I could sense Spencer's hesitation growing. His eyes darted up to me, and I gave him the smuggest grin I could have mastered, relishing the irony of the situation and how much I was enjoying it.
With a sense of satisfaction, I observed Spencer's struggle to hide his unease. He was caught between wanting to keep his cool and not wanting to help me. If I had asked him myself, he probably would've refused just out of spite. But now, with my dad asking so nicely, Spencer had no way out. He couldn't say no to my father.
"Yeah, um," Spencer cleared his throat, his discomfort palpable. "I could help her," he reluctantly conceded, his words laced with annoyance.
I couldn't help but smile widely at Spencer's visible frustration, reveling in the satisfaction of knowing he was forced to comply with my father's request. Meanwhile, my dad remained oblivious to the tension in the room, with his head down and his attention focused solely on the paperwork before him.
Spencer's gaze bore into mine, and his eyes narrowed with irritation. "Anything else, sir?" He inquired, his tone tinged with impatience.
"No, that's all. Thank you very much," my dad says, briefly looking up from the files and giving Spencer a slight smile. "But if you two need to schedule a time to work, please do it outside. I just really need to finish this," he adds, his tone slightly rushed.
I seize the moment to kiss my father's cheek, bidding him farewell with a soft, "Have a great trip, dad. Say hi to Beth for me" and with that, I stepped out of his office. Spencer was already making his way towards the break room as I closed the door.
As I entered the room, I found Spencer already brewing some coffee, so I stood by his side, leaning against the counter.
"That was so sweet of you, Spencer, agreeing to help me out," I remarked, my words dripping with irony as I playfully mocked him.
"Don't be difficult, Y/n," Spencer responded in a frustrated tone, still focused on the task at hand and not bothering to look at me.
With a sly grin, I spoke, "I have to admit, Spencer, the idea of having a taste of Professor Reid excites me very much." My words were casual but tinged with a hint of mischief, aimed at both teasing him and stoking his frustration.
Spencer paused in his task, his grip tightening on the handle of the coffee pot, as my words hung in the air between us. Slowly, he turned to face me, his expression unreadable as he met my gaze. "Y/n, you know I'm only helping because your father asked me to," he replied evenly, his voice tight with restraint.
"Oh, Professor, don't be so uptight," I purred, "After all, who wouldn't jump at the chance to learn from a man like you?"
I watched with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction as Spencer's gaze shifted upwards to the ceiling, his breathing growing deeper as he fought to regain his composure.
His jaw clenched tightly, and the muscles in his neck were visibly tensing as he battled to suppress his rising frustration. Despite his efforts, I could see the simmering irritation beneath the surface, a testament to the effect my teasing was having on him.
Spencer's gaze flickered back down to meet mine, his expression a blend of annoyance and resignation. "Y/n, this is not the time or place for your... games," he replied, his voice firm and authoritative.
Undeterred by his stern tone, I leaned in closer, the corners of my lips curling into a playful smile. "Oh, Spencer, where's your sense of adventure?" I whispered huskily, my voice laced with mischief. "Don't tell me you're afraid of a little excitement."
His gaze hardened, a flicker of irritation flashing in his eyes before he regained control. "I'm not afraid of anything," he retorted, his tone sharp. "But I have more important things to focus on than dealing with your incessant need for attention."
I couldn't help but chuckle softly, my amusement bubbling up as I continued to push his buttons. "Oh, Spencer," I teased, my voice dripping with mock sympathy. "It must be exhausting being so uptight all the time. Maybe you just need to loosen up a bit."
As Spencer's frustration simmered beneath the surface, I leaned in closer, the twinkle in my eyes daring him to retaliate. "Come on, don't tell me you're getting worked up over a little harmless banter," I continued, my tone laced with provocation. "Maybe you're just not up for the challenge."
Spencer's frustration reached its peak, evident in the sharpness of his tone. "You know what? Just email me the paper requirements. I'll write it for you," he said tersely, his patience worn thin. "I don't want to have to deal with you."
With that, the door swung open, revealing Rossi.
"Uncle Dave!" I exclaimed with excitement, unable to contain my joy at seeing him. I rushed forward and enveloped him in a warm hug.
Rossi raised an eyebrow in surprise. "I didn't know you were here, kiddo," he remarked, returning the hug with a smile.
"Oh, I came to ask Dad to help me with a paper," I explained, my voice tinged with faux innocence, "but he couldn't help, so he asked Spencer." With a subtle smirk, I continued, "And uncle Dave, Spencer was so kind, he offered to write it for me; do you believe it?"
Rossi chuckled at my explanation, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Well, it looks like you've got yourself quite the helper," he remarked with a grin, nodding towards Spencer.
I glanced back at Spencer, noting the hint of annoyance still lingering in his expression as he poured his coffee. It was clear my teasing had gotten under his skin more than I'd anticipated, but the satisfaction of seeing him flustered outweighed any guilt I might have felt. His irritation was palpable as he begrudgingly accepted the task of writing my paper, his movements stiff with frustration.
"Well, anyway, thanks, Spencer," I said, a playful grin spreading across my lips. "You were a real sweetheart for agreeing to write it. I've got to run now, but I'll shoot you an email with all the details. Kinda need it ready by Monday, okay?" I added, punctuating my words with a playful wink. "You're the best, Spence."
With those words, I leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek, a mischievous twinkle in my eye as I knew it would only leave him more annoyed. Ignoring his exasperated sigh, I waved my goodbyes at Rossi and made my exit.
As I walked away, I couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction at how effortlessly I had turned the situation to my advantage, leaving Spencer to deal with the consequences of his reluctant agreement.
—x—
Friday came around, and I spent the afternoon hastily preparing my house for the party, rushing to stock up on booze and snacks. As the sun dipped below the horizon, my friends began to trickle in.
The party unfolded beneath the starlit sky, casting a dreamy glow over the backyard pool area. Colorful lights twinkled around the pool, illuminating the water in shades of blue and green. Laughter and chatter filled the air as guests mingled around the pool, their voices blending with the rhythmic beats of the music.
I had a full-on bar set up, stocked with all sorts of booze, beer, cocktails, you name it. Bottles of beer and liquor lined the counter, while colorful cocktails were expertly mixed and poured into plastic cups. The backyard was packed with all sorts of random people, just having a blast. Music was pumping, and bodies were moving everywhere. Everyone was enjoying themselves and letting loose.
In one corner, a game of beer pong was in full swing, and I was getting my pong on, sinking shots, and taking names like a boss.
Amidst the laughter and cheers, a random guy's voice cut through, calling out to someone nearby. "Yo, guys, the cops are here!" he exclaimed, his words sending a wave of panic through the crowd. The comment caught my attention, and I glanced up from the game, scanning the room until my gaze landed on Derek, who had just arrived.
"Guys, don't worry, it´s just my big brother!" I yelled, "And he is not a cop; he is actually FBI, but he is NOT A SNITCH!" I slurred my words as I rushed to hug Derek. "And ladies, he is singleeeeeeeeee! So feel free to shoot your shot!!"
Derek chuckled at my introduction, playfully rolling his eyes at my antics. With a grin, he accepted the attention, raising a hand in acknowledgment to the crowd.
"You came!" I exclaimed, my excitement bubbling over as I jumped up and down in front of him like I was a little kid meeting their idol for the first time.
"Of course I came; you invited me, so I had to come," he replied with a chuckle, his tone affectionate as I hugged by his side.
"I'm glad you're here. I have a great friend for you to meet," I said, eager to introduce him to someone new.
"I actually brought someone with me," he said, looking down at me.
"What? You dirty dog... Who's the lucky girl?" I asked, surprised by his unexpected response.
"Well," Derek chuckled, trying to contain a laugh, "his name is Spencer."
I playfully smacked his bicep, a grin spreading across my face. "What? Really? I thought you had a girlfriend for a moment."
Derek shook his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Nah, I just brought Pretty Boy with me." As he spoke, I couldn't help but glance around the lively crowd, searching for any sign of Spencer amidst the sea of partygoers.
"Well, where is he anyway?" I inquired.
"Oh, he said he had some files that he needed to drop," Derek replied nonchalantly, his gaze drifting over the house. "He's probably in your office."
I made my way inside the house, the sound of laughter and music fading away as the door closed behind me. Traversing through the familiar halls, I eventually entered the office. Spencer stood by the desk, his attention focused on a document as he scribbled away.
"Is that my paper?" I asked, my excitement evident as I quickly moved to stand by his side.
Spencer glanced up, a condescending smirk spreading across his face. "Yeah," he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "I just needed to cut something out. It sounded too smart to be written by you."
"Well, I must say, Spencer, I'm impressed with how quickly you wrote the paper," I teased, my voice laced with faux innocence.
Spencer's jaw clenched tightly, his frustration evident as he fought to maintain his composure. "You know, Y/n, if you actually put in the effort, maybe you wouldn't need someone else to write your papers for you," he retorted, his tone sharp with irritation.
I sat on top of the desk, a mischievous glint in my eyes as I locked gazes with Spencer. "Well, aren't you just the sweetest for helping out a damsel in distress?" I teased, a playful smirk playing on my lips. "Guess I owe you one now, huh?"
He took a deep breath, his hands slipping into his pockets as he regarded me with a knowing look. "Don't you start, Y/n," he warned, his voice laced with annoyance.
I chuckled softly, enjoying the way I could always push his buttons with just a few words. "Start what, Spencer?" I replied innocently, batting my eyelashes exaggeratedly. "I'm just expressing my gratitude for your generous assistance."
Spencer shook his head, "You know exactly what you're doing," he countered.
I leaned in forward in his direction, my playful demeanor masking the underlying tension between us. "Do I, Spencer?" I asked, my voice dropping to a seductive whisper. "Or are you just imagining things?"
Spencer's gaze held mine, a mixture of exasperation and something else flickering in his eyes. "You're impossible," he murmured.
A smirk played on my lips as I traced a finger along the edge of the desk, enjoying the way he couldn't tear his eyes away from me. "And yet, here you are, still falling for my tricks,".
Spencer's lips twitched with a hint of amusement, though he tried to maintain a facade of indifference. "I'm not falling for anything, Y/n”
I chuckled softly, "Sure, Spencer," I lightly patted his chest. "Keep telling yourself that."
As Spencer leaned forward, he rested his hands on the desk under me, his presence engulfing me. I felt a rush of anticipation course through my veins as his hands laid on either side of my thighs, sending a jolt of electricity through me as our skin touched.  
"Is that a threat, Spencer?" I whispered, my voice laced with a mixture of challenge and intrigue.
His lips curled into a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling ever so slightly with amusement. "Not a threat, Y/n," he replied, his tone softening as he leaned in even closer, his breath ghosting over my lips. "A promise."
"You know, Spencer," I murmured, "Sometimes I wonder if you've got what it takes to handle someone like me."
"Oh, really?" he replied, raising an eyebrow "And what makes you say that, Y/n?"
"Well, let's just say," I whispered, my voice filled with mischief, "I've seen the way you tiptoe around me, like I'm some delicate flower that might wilt at your touch."
Spencer's expression softened slightly, "Ah, yes," he conceded, his head fell back slightly as he sighed "the boss's daughter, untouchable and off-limits.
"Exactly," I replied, "And let's not forget, I'm also significantly younger than you. Double challenge, isn't it?
Spencer's amusement faded, replaced by a hint of seriousness as he regarded me. "You know, Y/n," he began, “playing this game, using your position as Hotch´s daughter to your advantage... It's risky."
I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Risky? How so, Spencer?" I asked, my voice carrying a hint of challenge.
His gaze hardened, and the warmth in his eyes was replaced by a steely decisiveness. "Because one day, you might push me too far," he replied, "One day, I might not be able to hold back anymore."
I felt a shiver run down my spine at the seriousness of his tone, the underlying threat sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through me. Despite my playful facade, I couldn't deny the flicker of apprehension that sparked within me at the thought of what Spencer might be capable of if pushed to his limit. But instead of backing down, I met his gaze head-on, a defiant glint in my eyes.
"Is that a warning, Spencer?" I countered, my voice steady despite the racing of my heart. "Or a promise?"
"You always get what you want, don't you?" He remarked chuckling, his breath warm against my the skin of my neck.
I met his gaze with a sly smile, reveling in the tension that crackled between us. "Only when I set my mind to it,"
Spencer's lips quirked into a half-smile as he retorted, "No one likes a brat."
"But you seem to tolerate me just fine, Spencer," I teased, my voice dripping with mock innocence.
Toleration doesn't mean I actually like your attitude. Maybe you need to be taught some manners." Spencer's tone was firm.
"Oh, Spencer," I replied, "I didn't realize you were volunteering for the job."
Spencer's eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his features before he regained his composure. "Don't push your luck, Y/n," he warned.
But I couldn't resist the opportunity to tease him further and see just how far I could push him. Leaning in closer, I let my breath brush against his ear as I whispered, "Or what, Spencer? You'll finally lose your cool and show me what you're really made of."
His jaw clenched, a hint of frustration flashing in his eyes as he resisted the urge to react. "You're playing with fire, Y/n," he murmured, his voice tinged with a mixture of warning and desire.
A thrill coursed through me at the knowledge that I was getting under his skin, that I had the power to unravel him with just a few carefully chosen words. Ignoring the warning bells ringing in the back of my mind, I leaned back with a smirk, my eyes alight with mischief. "Then let's see who gets burned first,"
I quipped, grabbing his tie and pulling him closer. Our faces were inches apart as our lips collided for the first time. Our kiss was hot and hungry, tongues clashing, our mouths grappling for dominance. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer as his hand traveled down the small of my back. Our bodies pressed together tightly, the heat radiating from within only adding to the intensity of the moment.
My breath quickened as our lips pulled apart, and my fingers tangled in his hair as I slowly pulled away. My heart thumped in my chest, my body humming with a rush of pleasure. Spencer's eyes were glazed, his breath coming in sharp, shallow breaths as he stared at me.
With a sly grin, I pulled back slightly, "Careful, Spencer," I murmured, my voice low and teasing, "Are you sure you want to keep playing this game?"
Spencer was still breathing heavily, and his eyes focused on me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine. My body buzzed with pleasure, and I felt myself melting into his touch.
"Only if you can handle it," His voice was hoarse, as though he were gripping onto his composure by a thread. "And I think we're beyond the point of asking if I want this to keep going... don't you?"
I swallowed; my voice was as low as a whisper. "You tell me."
His hands traveled down my back, his thumb caressing my hip with slow, deliberate strokes. "Don't play games with me," he murmured, his voice trembling with desire.
My breath caught in my throat as Spencer's lips grazed my neck, and I could feel my body reacting to his touch. Spencer's words were hot as they hit near my ear, sending shivers down my spine as his hands continued their exploration of my body.
"I'm not playing games," I whispered, my body trembling as his hands traveled lower, slowly moving towards my thighs. I shivered but made no attempt to move away, knowing that he wanted me to stay right where I was.
"Then what are you doing?" Spencer asked, his voice low as he gripped my waist, pulling me closer. "Because to me, it seems like you're asking for more."
"I'm not asking for anything," I chuckled, "I'm letting you take what you want."
Now was his turn to let out a chuckle "And what exactly do I want?" his voice filled with amusement, as he lifted my dress up until it covered my hips, his hands still firmly gripping my bare ass.
I swallowed hard, my body trembling as he played with me, his fingers gripping me hard. My breath caught in my throat, and my head tilted back, my body yielding to his touch.
"I think I want to hear you say it," Spencer murmured, his voice low, his eyes burning into mine.
Spencer's gaze locked onto mine. I could see the conflict playing out in his mind—the struggle to reconcile his desires with the reality of our situation.
"You want to fuck me, Spencer; you always have," I asserted confidently, refusing to back down. "But you were just afraid of crossing that line, of stepping into forbidden territory. Afraid of what it would mean to want someone like me… Hotch´'s daughter,"
Spencer's lips curled into a faint smile, a glimmer of amusement dancing in his eyes. "You know what they say," he chuckled softly. "The forbidden fruit is always the most desired."
"So, what do you say, Spencer?" I tested him, "Are you ready to take a bite?"
"I think I'm ready for more than just a bite," Spencer replied, his words full of aggression as he leaned in closer. I shivered as his hand traveled down between us, stroking the lace of my panties with his fingertips. At an excruciatingly slow pace, his touch grazed the soft material that covered the skin. I couldn't help but squirm against him, my breath coming in short, as my body tightened in anticipation. I let out a light moan, and Spencer chuckled in response.
The anticipation was killing me; his fingers were slowly caressing my sensitive bud, just teasingly enough to send shivers down my spine. His touch was gentle but insistent, and his fingers were enough to drive me wild with desire.
I couldn't help but move against him, his breath in my ear and his fingertips grazing my covered skin. It was exquisite torture, leaving me desperate for more, and Spencer knew it.
I let out a soft moan, unable to contain myself anymore, as he moved the lacy fabric aside to gain full access to where I wanted him most. His touch was tender but firm, his finger tracing upward on my wet slit.
"Please, Spencer," I moaned, my body shaking with desire.
"What's that? I couldn't hear you," he answered, his voice low and steady as he chuckled.
"You talk too much," I whispered, my voice husky with desire. My hands traveled between us, reaching for his, and I guided his fingertips to my entrance, pushing them inside. As his fingers filled me up, a soft moan escaped my lips, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.
Spencer's face was a mixture of surprise and desire at my bold actions, his eyes darkening with a hunger that mirrored my own. My quiet cries of pleasure filled the room as he moved his fingers in and out.
His eyes fixed on mine as my face twisted in ecstasy, his grip solid yet delicate as he grabbed the back of my neck.
"Hey, hey, hey," Spencer warned, “Eyes on me," he gestured with his free hand for me to look him in the eyes. "I want to see your face when you cum on my fingers."
I felt both embarrassed and eager all at once, but I couldn't resist the lure of his challenge. His voice was low, and there was a hint of authority in his tone. Feeling a rush of heat flood my face, my gaze shifted between his face and watching his fingers move inside of me.
My eyes widened as I felt myself teetering on the brink of ecstasy, every nerve in my body alive with anticipation. The intensity of Spencer's gaze only fueled the fire within me, pushing me closer and closer to my breaking point.
"Fuck, Spencer, I'm... I'm gonna..." I struggled to form the sentence as waves of pleasure crashed over me, rendering me speechless.
"You're gonna cum, pretty girl?" he asked, a sweet look of anticipation in his eyes.
I could only nod my head before it fell back in pleasure, and a throaty moan escaped my lips.  A look of satisfaction crossed his face, and I could feel the pleasure all over my body. I closed my eyes, just taking in the sensation.
"Yeah, just like that," he said as he withdrew his fingers, his gaze locked on mine, savoring the moment. He put his fingers into his mouth, his eyes never leaving mine.
"Oh, it's even better than I imagined," he said with a soft moan escaping his lips.
I captured his lips, still tasting the remnants of my desire, and pulled him into another heated kiss. With skill, my hands flew to his belt, swiftly undoing it as I eagerly wanted him inside of me.
He pulled his clothes down, freeing himself, breaking away from our kiss momentarily to look down as he stroked himself a few times. His breath hitched with a low groan. I watched him intently, my own desire mounting with each passing moment.
With a hunger that burned hotter than ever, I leaned forward, my lips trailing along his jawline as I whispered, "Don't keep me waiting, Spence."
And so he didn´t.
"Oh fuck..." I moaned as I watched him sink into me with ease, his head falling to the crook of my neck as his jaw clenched in pleasure. My walls gripped him tightly as he bottomed out, filling me completely. My eyes widened as he thrust for the first time with a force that left me breathless. His movements were primal, fueled by a raw passion that consumed us both. I could feel every inch of him as he thrust, each movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through my body.
Spencer's lips curled into a devilish smirk as he leaned in closer, his breath tickling my ear. "You like that, Y/n?" he whispered "You like feeling my cock inside of you.?”
I squirmed beneath him, unable to form a coherent response as his words sent shivers down my spine. "Spencer," I gasped, my voice barely a whisper, "shut up… just... keep going."
Spencer's lips curled into a sly grin as he leaned back slightly, his gaze locking with mine. "You always have to get what you want, don't you, Y/n?"
Spencer's lips curled into a sly grin as he leaned back slightly, his gaze locking with mine. "You always have to get what you want, don't you, Y/n?" He teased, “You wouldn't give up until I fucked you senseless."
"You're enjoying this as much as I am," I replied "Don't act like you're innocent in all of this."
Spencer's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, believe me, Y/n," he whispered huskily, "I wouldn't have it any other way."
As Spencer's thrusts grew more forceful, I found myself succumbing to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over me with each movement. The rhythm of our bodies colliding echoed in the room, filling the air with the sounds of our shared desire. My nails dug into his back, my fingers clutching onto him desperately.
Spencer's movements were primal, driven by a raw passion that ignited a fire within me. With each thrust, I felt myself spiraling closer to the edge, my body on the brink of ecstasy as he pushed me further and further. I couldn't help but lose myself in the intensity of the moment, my mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure that consumed every fiber of my being.
“I need to cum, spence, please," I practically begged, my voice thick with desire.
Spencer's smirk widened. "You want to cum on my cock, baby?" he teased, his voice dripping with lust.
My answer was a breathless "Yes, please, yes," barely more than a whimper, as I surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through me.
With one last, hard thrust, Spencer pushed me over the edge, and I rode the waves of ecstasy crashing over me.
"Fuck, yes!" He cried out as my body trembled with the force of my climax. And as I reached the peak of my pleasure, Spencer found his own release, his body tensing against mine. With a final, primal grunt, he pulled out, his hot release spilling over my thigh.
The room was filled with heavy, tense silence as we both caught our breath, the aftermath of our heated encounter hanging thick in the air. Spencer's hand moved gently, cleaning me up with tissues he picked from the box behind me on the desk.
"This can't happen again," he reiterated, as he threw away the tissues, his voice firm “It's risky. Hotch wouldn't hesitate to shoot me if he found out," he chuckled nervously.
I nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of his words. "I know," my gaze dropped to the floor.
"But God…" He approached me again, his hands cupped my face. "That was something else," he murmured, brushing his lips against mine. "It's going to be hard to stay away from you, now that I know how you taste, and how good you feel around me." Spencer's lips met mine once more, kissing me sweetly. "It's going to be hard to resist you."
I teased, my voice laced with a playful tone. "And you can bet I’ll make your job harder"
"I wouldn't expect anything less," Spencer's lips curled into a small smile, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "But seriously, this… this can never happen, okay?" He emphasized, "We can't tell anyone about this. Not even Derek."
"I understand," I replied, my voice soft "Our secret stays just between us."
He nodded in agreement, a sense of relief washing over him as he realized I understood the importance of discretion. "Good," he murmured as he kissed my forehead.
—x—-
As Monday rolled around, Spencer arrived at the office and settled into his desk. Before he could even get started on his work, Derek immediately approached him, leaning in with a sly grin. "Hey there, pretty boy," he says, his voice low but teasing tone.
Spencer looked up, "Hey, what's up?"
Derek leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "So, what happened last Friday? You left the party early, man. Everything alright?"
Spencer hesitates, trying to come up with a plausible excuse. "Uh, yeah, I wasn't feeling too well. I thought it was best to head home."
"Feeling under the weather, huh?” Derek chuckles, not buying it for a second.
Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as Derek's teasing hit a nerve. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, he stammered awkwardly, "Yeah, I was just not feeling right."
"So, you didn't hear anything when you were inside the house?" Derek whispered.
Spencer's heart raced, realizing Derek might know more than he's letting on. "What would I even hear?"
Derek's grin widened as he leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "See... when I went inside to look for you, because Y/n went to look for you but you two never came out…. And then I heard a couple getting it on in Hotch's office, and I was just wondering if you knew who it was. I want to know all the juicy deets."
Spencer's face flushes crimson but he maintained a facade of innocence, refusing to betray any hint of guilt. He cleared his throat, “Ah, well, you know how it is at these gatherings," his tone was light but his pulse racing. "People can get carried away. But as for the identity of that mysterious couple, I'm afraid I'm just as clueless as you are, Derek."
Derek chuckles knowingly, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "Sure, Spencer, whatever you say," Derek pats Spencer's back in a mockingly sympathetic gesture, "But next time, maybe find a quieter spot than Hotch's office. It's hard to keep things discreet when the walls are practically paper-thin."
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yourdarkcherry · 8 months
Text
Feeling righteously yummy || J.M
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Summary: you’re grounded and JJ is pleading you to come with him on another late night adventure, when you refuse he decides that he should just finger you in your bedroom.
Warnings: smut, fingering (r!receiving), nipple biting and sucking, lots and lots of dirty talk, fem!reader.
Divider by: @/cafekitsune
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Your parents hate JJ Maybank. They hate the effect he has on you, it’s a visceral type of change that comes in and disturbs everything in your world. 
You don’t blame them at all, because when he comes knocking at your window, or more likely throwing rocks,  you would throw away everything and hop into his motorcycle, not caring where he takes you as long as he takes you with him. 
He returns you to your home just by dawn, sometimes he doesn’t drop you off and you simply sleep over in questionable places with him. You’ve never been caught when you commit the latter, but you were the previous day and you were grounded, your window shut and your mother guarding the front door.
But if JJ Maybank was anything, he was born with the kind of persistence that tires you out and makes you do whatever he wants you to do. He’s holding into a tree branch and leaning against your bedroom window, managed to climb it with the help of the massive tree next to your house. 
His hand is extended to you, inviting you to join him on another adventure tonight. Looking so handsome and so charming, as he’s leaning against the tree he reminds you of the apple that attracted Eve. 
“I can’t,” you tell him, slapping his hand away when he wiggles his fingers to you, “I’m grounded.”
“You can’t, or you won’t?” he asks, and you roll your eyes at him when he says, “because you have your legs and you have a free will, so I think you can but you just won’t.”
“JJ I’m literally grounded, and mom comes to check my room every five minutes so if she sees me gone I will be grounded until the day I die,” you argue, JJ laughs and you feel your heart flutters at the sound of his chuckle, “I think you’re being dramatic.”
“I’m serious, please,” you plead, “if my mom saw you here she’d kill me first and then kill you.” and then you try to loosen his grip on the windowsill, “I think you’re gonna kill me first!” he says loudly, and you instantly let go of him as you cover your face, afraid that your mother heard him shouting downstairs. 
But all you can hear is the muffled noise of the television, “come on cupcake, I bet she’s already sleeping, and I will drop you off before she even wakes up.”
“Yeah well, you told me that yesterday and I woke up at John B’s couch, and to a million calls from my parents.” You replied sassily, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring at him. You entirely blamed JJ for your punishment, because if he hadn’t coaxed you into drinking then you wouldn’t have gotten drunk and everyone knew you were a sleepy drunk, and he was an irresponsible drunk so it was easily a recipe for disaster.
You snoozed at John B’s couch, and he thought that he should let you sleep and your parents wouldn’t even realize you were gone because he would drop you at home early in the morning like he always does.
“This time it wouldn’t happen, scout’s honor.” he says, tapping his chest and you can’t help the smile stretching on your lips at his actions. 
“If I were to say yes, where are you taking me anyways?” you asked, sitting on the chair by your window. 
Truth to be said, you’ve never cared where he’d take you as long as you were with him. But your fight with your parents earlier, and the punishment you received afterwards slightly worried you. What if he takes you somewhere far away and you don’t get back home in time? If that were to happen, you would never be allowed to see JJ.
He wasn’t even your boyfriend, even though you’ve made out several times, but you were afraid to ask him what you two were because you knew JJ doesn’t do relationships. If you asked him to put a name on what the two of you have, then you’re scared he’d bail.
So, for now you’re content with what you two have.
JJ shrugs, “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out eventually.” you roll your eyes at his words, then attempt to shut the window, “Then I’m not risking anything, JJ, go home.” He fights your attempt to shut the window, he wins because he’s persistent and you lose because you never actually wanted him to leave.
“I just don’t understand, you’re nineteen, you can do whatever the fuck you want.” he starts his usual argument, and you exhale as you answer with your usual answer, “because I live under their roof and they worry, a lot.”
“They have nothing to worry about though, it’s not like we do drugs or anything.” He says, you can't help but laugh and add sarcastically, “right, all we do is get drunk, smoke weed and skinny dip.”
He smiles, “come on, we don’t do anything wrong.”
“JJ, please.” you plead.
“No, you please. Come join me, I promise no crazy business and I’d have you back in an hour.” He tries, you shake your head despite feeling your heart relenting, but when you imagine your parents’ reaction you build your stubborn walls again. 
“I just don’t understand why your parents don’t like me.” He says with a shrug.
“Because you don’t use the front door, and you take me out during midnight.” you answered instantly. 
“I would say I use the front door pretty frequently,” he says with a wiggle of his eyebrows that makes your face heat up and your heart swoon despite him clearly using a nasty innuendo. If it was anyone else you’d have slapped them, but since it was JJ you laughed and tried to cool your hot face with your cold fingers.
“Come on…” he pleads, and you shake your head. He stares at you with those sapphire blues that captivate you. Neither of you speak, only you drowning into his entrancing gaze.
Then he sighs and nods, “fine,” you feel your heart drop at him giving up despite it being the best outcome. If you were found out, you’d be giving a harsher punishment.
JJ looks defeated for a moment, his shoulders slumping as he lets go of the windowsill. You feel a pang of guilt seeing him like this, but the fear of facing your parents' wrath overpowers it. “Alright, alright,” he mumbles, stepping back from the window. 
“I’ll…” you trail, standing up from the chair and walking away from the window and crossing your arms over your chest tighter, and staring at him, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning,” 
“Hell yeah you are.” He says, and you grin but your smile turns into confusion when he looks like he’s about to jump from the branch to your window. Your lips are frozen with shock, and you’re stunned when he actually manages to bounce from the tree and then inside your bedroom.
He walks towards you, his signature smirk on his lips and his big warm hands rest on your cheeks, “you thought I would just leave that easily, cupcake?”
You want to yell at him, and tell him that he’s fucking crazy for even thinking he can stay with you in your bedroom. If your mother saw him, then you could only kiss your freedom goodbye. But the magnetic pull he has on you. Despite the chaos he brings into your life, there's a thrill in being with him that you can't resist, and the only thing you could do is try to fight your growing smile but failing miserably.
You know you look crazy as you’re smiling and hissing at him, “JJ, are you insane?! What if my mom catches you in here?!” 
He grins, completely unbothered, and wraps his left arm around your waist, his right hand still cupping your cheek. “Then you’re gonna have to hide me, but I’m sure we can manage, what's the worst that could happen? It’s not like she would kill me or anything.”
You huff a laugh, but there's no denying the truth in his words. There's something intoxicating about JJ's carefree spirit, his ability to turn even the most mundane moments into adventures. 
He’s the devil, you think, or the most tempting sin ever. You lightly push against his chest, trying to create some distance between you two. “JJ, this is a terrible idea. You can't just waltz into my room like it's no big deal.”
He chuckles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your cheek. “Come on, cupcake, where's your sense of adventure? Life's too short to play by all the rules.”
Your eyes narrow at him, but you can't deny the fluttering feeling in your stomach. “My mom would kill me if she found you here.”
He presses a quick, sweet kiss to your forehead. “Then let's not get caught.”
As he pulls away, you can't help but sigh. JJ’s presence is a whirlwind of excitement and trouble, and though you know better, you find yourself giving in to his charm. The thought of spending the night sneaking around with him is both thrilling and terrifying.
He glances around your room, his eyes settling on the open window. “I would offer to go back out if it makes you feel better, but I’m afraid you’d say yes so I wouldn’t.” he smirks.
You shake your head, a mix of frustration and amusement in your voice. “You're unbelievable, JJ. Fine, but you have to be quiet and stay out of sight. If my mom finds you, I'm blaming this entirely on you.”
He grins, taking your hand. “Deal, cupcake.”
Slapping his chest, “I hate it when you call me that.” and you try to make space between you both, but he’s stronger and more stubborn than you, the space you make is insignificant. 
“Why not? You taste sweet just like frosting of one.” He whispers against your lips, leaning down to kiss you daringly, and slowly. Your heartbeat is fast, and then it completely drops to your pussy at his dirty words and his slow kissing. 
You manage to gather enough willpower to push him away, panting slightly as you scold him. “JJ, we need to be quiet, remember?” He holds both of your hands by your wrists, bringing them to rest on his chiseled chest, he pushes you towards your bed.
“No,” he says and interrupting himself to kiss your lips, “No,” he repeats and this time he kisses your neck and your jaw slacks at the crazy sensation, “You need to be quiet.” He whispers hotly against your ear, and you actually have to hold onto his shirt to stabilize yourself or your jelly-like legs would expose how weak he makes you feel.
The hand on your cheek slides down to your neck, down your shoulder and then finally to your boobs. He holds a handful and squeezes them, you bite your neck to not moan loudly. You struggle to keep your eyes open, and you’re painfully aware of your unlocked door.
“JJ, the door.” You slur, his kisses lowering down to your cleavage, and when he bites the mound of fat on your chest you stifle a low moan with the back of your palm. But you lose your balance when he pushes you to your bed, you gasp at the drop and watch him with hungry eyes take off his shirt and toes off his shoes. 
He climbs over your body, and rids you of your own shirt, and doesn’t bother with breaking off the distance in order to take off your bra, he only pushes the cups under your breasts. Then lowers his head to swirl his tongue around your hard nipples. You shut your eyes, relishing in the feeling of his soft, hot and wet mouth around your nipple, he pinches the other one making you bite your tongue to stifle your noises.
Then he bites your nipple and you squeak, “JJ!” you hiss and pull his hair back but this only makes him more riled up. His hand travels down your chest, and then unbuttons your shorts, struggling to reach behind your thongs but when he does he easily finds the source of wetness.
His middle and ring finger slip in the parting of your pussy, then between the hot wet folds. He moans against your tits, making your body outstretch against his. You feel his hard cock prod the inside of your thigh when he comes to kiss your lips. 
“You’re always so fucking wet for me, do I turn you on that much, cupcake?” he whispers against your lips.
You reach for his clothed cock, groping the hardness and whispering back, “what about you, always thinking of fucking me that you get hard isntantly?” You feel his lips stretching in a smile against your own.
“Is it so wrong? Look at you, can’t believe the hottest girl in obx lets me fuck her whenever I want.” He says, his fingers parting your folds and going up and down over your clit. Your eyes instantly close at the sensation, feeling yourself grow wetter. 
“Do your parents know you let me fuck whenever I want?” he asks against your lips. You bring him to kiss you so you can moan freely against his mouth, you feel your mixing saliva dripping down your mouth. 
“I think if they knew they would hate me even more,” he says, his fingers prodding to go inside your cunt. You gasp at the sensation, but you feel more slickness seeping out of your pussy and it’s embarrassing the way your pussy makes noises in the quietness of your bedroom. 
“If you knew what I think of when I see you, I don’t think you’d go anywhere with me at midnight.” He whispers, his fingers coming out to stroke your wet clit, you feel your heart going faster. “Do you trust me this much? Letting me take you anywhere and letting me fuck you anywhere?” he kisses you, and you feel your walls tightening around his fingers.
The coil in the depth of your stomach feels like it’s getting tighter at everything he’s doing to you, at how he’s making you feel. 
“I can feel you getting tighter, are you going to cum?” he asks, whispering lowly and hotly in your ear and parting to stare into your eyes. Your voice betrays you, and you know if you speak you would only moan and whine, so you only nod whining lowly.
“You’re going to cum around my fingers? Please, I want to feel you cum around my fingers, please, baby?” he is basically pleading, at his last words the coil snaps and your vision turns white, he kisses you to muffle your moans.
His tongue twisting around your own and sucking your saliva, your hips buck against his hand as you’re riding out your orgasm. He doesn’t stop even when you’ve finished cumming, and only does that when you’re whining at him to stop with how overstimulated you were getting, your body jerking against his.
Embarrassingly, his fingers slip out of your pussy with a loud ‘pop’ that makes your face turn hot and makes his smirk widen, he brings his fingers to his mouth while maintaining eye contact with you. 
Your jaw slacks at the scenery, his pupils blown wide against his baby blue irises, and his cheeks flushed. 
He’s so beautiful, everything about him is magnetic. His tousled hair and rogue smirk only add to the allure. A walking embodiment of charisma, JJ’s heat is undeniable, a blaze impossible to resist.
“Let me give you a taste of your sweet pussy.” He states, and before you could respond he leans down to kiss you hungrily and passionately, it’s messy and sweet and overwhelming. Just like him. 
You’re the one that breaks the kiss, turning to the side to breathe in oxygen sharply. He lays on his side, staring down at you as you look back at him. Your smile widening at his infectious one.
JJ fixes your messed up hair strands, tucking them behind your ear and grinning. Resting on his elbow and looking down at you, then his hands travel to your exposed tits, meaning to cover them but not before pinching your nipples making you whine and slap his chest. 
He laughs, then when you look decent, he asks, “so, when are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend?” His laughter still lingers in the air, a playful melody that resonates. You raise an eyebrow, feeling your heart picking up its pace at your surprise by his candid question. “Boyfriend? JJ, you want to be…” you trail off, feeling your face grow hot at his question, his teasing smirk fueling the warmth. “Yeah, I mean, we’re practically inseparable, right?” JJ’s gaze holds a glint of sincerity beneath the playful facade. Your heart wavers between uncertainty and excitement. “I just never thought you were the type to do relationships, plus you’ve never asked to be my boyfriend” you admit, a smile tugging at your lips.
Then you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him to kiss him, he kisses back with the same level of devotion, if not more. 
When you break the kiss you kiss his cheek, he parts away just a little to look into your eyes, “Can I be your boyfriend?”
A mixture of emotions swirl within you– uncertainty, excitement, and a tinge of fear. JJ Maybank, the perpetual rebel, is asking for something beyond the usual thrill seeking adventures. It’s a side of him you hadn’t anticipated, and yet, it feels like a natural progression.
“I would love it.” You answer.
JJ’s grin widens, and he pulls you into a tight embrace, as if sealing the deal. “Well, then, consider it official, cupcake.”
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mcflymemes · 4 months
Text
ANYONE BUT YOU (2023) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue from the film, adjust as necessary
you still live at 28 fuckboy lane?
there's a reason why you're alone. no one can trust you.
i still think about the night we spent together.
these last few days really made me realize how much i miss you.
that night at your place, no matter how it ended, it was still pretty amazing.
so... you gonna kiss me now?
you'll always be my rock bottom.
okay, nuzzle my neck. get in there.
we are not together. we were faking it the whole time.
we have to kick it up a notch. make it feel like we're in the ga-ga stage.
you know, i feel really bad about that.
did you catch him measuring his dick with a ruler app?
you scared the shit out of me.
we're getting pretty good at faking it.
it doesn't matter how we found out.
permission to put my left hand on your right buttock?
okay, not in circles. it's not a magic lamp.
are you not wearing underwear?
we do not inherit the earth. we just borrow it from our creatures.
i have a better idea. you just let me do everything.
thanks for being so cool about all of this.
you want a coffee? it's the best n the world.
there's only one bed, but we hung a shower curtain in the middle.
hi. where's your bathroom?
i could have done it myself, but whatever. thanks.
thanks for not stealing my coat.
is that really a two person job?
you would let me die?
they think i'm throwing my life away.
no, that was rude. i apologize to anyone that was listening.
i don't know. i'm not good at this, sorry.
i'm from a different generation.
i'm not talking about love. i'm talking about dick.
all that matters is that we're together.
that's not me anymore. i'm free now. i'm deprogrammed.
no way, that man does not have a heart.
well, that didn't take long.
if i never ask you for anything ever again, can you please just lay off of me this weekend?
let's just have a moment to calm ourselves.
no one cares. no one can see us.
we were on a break, asshole.
either way, someone's lying to someone.
i must have really gotten under your skin.
you used none of those terms properly.
i cannot believe i just said that out loud.
i'm sorry. my life is a disaster right now.
look at this place. it looks like every serial killer reenactment documentary.
no matter how broken something is, there's always a way to fix it.
this whole thing is so new to me.
i don't really like labels, but i like you a whole bunch.
so are you going to ask me out now?
so if we were getting attacked by giant spiders, you would not be able to protect us?
you two know each other?
i'm going to go grab a drink. door's that way if you're looking to sneak out. i know that's your thing.
i'm going to get a drink and toast to never seeing you again.
how crazy is it that we're on the same plane?
why do so many of us feel stuck?
you don't even play tennis.
we're fine if he just stays away from me.
you're such a romantic.
i was hoping you'd come. i wanted to message you, but i didn't know how you'd feel about hearing from me.
they're also a little worried how you're gonna react to all this.
you have a little something in your teeth.
we need to come up with a game plan.
you are so terrible at this.
it's harder than you think.
they know i would never go out with a guy like you.
we just suck face in front of everybody.
you're calling me a fuckboy like it's an insult? i own that shit.
let's just be affectionate. i know it's a foreign concept for you.
you were the one who said there's a thin line between love and hate.
i think it was more of a euphemism for crying alone.
i definitely didn't hate you.
last night was the first thing i haven't regretted in a long time.
i love the weird way you stick your hand down my pants.
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faithsxoxo · 6 months
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pairing :: chloe price x reader note :: band au, you’re chloe’s manager and she’s the drummer ;) warnings :: very very implied nsfw
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Chloe whips her head towards the door as it slams open. You stand the doorway, absolutely fuming.
“What were you thinking?” You exclaim, storming towards her.
“Careful, if you glare any harder you might pop a blood vessel,” Chloe leans back in her chair, absentmindedly chewing on the straw of her drink. She barely glances at you before returning to her phone.
“Listen,” you begin, already losing your patience, “I don’t care what you do in your spare time. That’s not my job. However, when your reputation is involved, that makes it my problem.” Chloe rolls her eyes.
“I went out and screwed a couple girls, so what? My ‘reputation’ shouldn’t matter to true fans,” She punctuates her sentence by kicking her legs up onto the table.
“Maybe this never occurred to you, but you’re not the only person in the world Chloe Price,” You spit. “Your public appearance may not matter to you, but being caught in scandals affects all of the band. I’m not doing this for you, I’m doing this for them.”
Chloe’s face crumples for a moment, but she recovers so quickly you almost think you imagined it. “Whatever,” She grumbles, turning away from you. “I get the point, you can fuck off now.” With a sigh, you turn around and walk out. You feel a pang of guilt, before washing it away. It’s not your fault she’s a raging cunt.
“7 minutes, going on in 7 minutes,” The headset crackles into your ears. You push into the dressing room where the three girls await you. Chloe is holed up in the corner, headphones leaking her punk rock playlist. Steph sits at the vanities brushing on finishing touches to her colorful face.
“You all ready?” You call, stepping over heaps of discarded clothes and accessories. “Just about,” Steph calls.
“6 minutes, 6 minutes all,” the radio calls again.
“I hate that thing,” Rachel grumbles, pacing the length of the room.
“Jesus, cool it Rach. You’re making me nervous,” Steph turns to face her.
“10,000 people in a stadium. To see our stupid fucking band,” Rachel sighs. “How am I supposed to cool it?”
“It’s really not a big deal, you’ve done this before,” you reassure, patting her arm lightly.
“5 minutes folks, 5 minutes on the clock. Can the band please meet behind the curtains, I repeat can the band join us on the stage,” The radio calls.
Rachel swears. Steph steps to her and wraps her arm around her shoulder.
“Come on Rach, no biggie. Just pretend they’re not there.”
She sighs.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
You stand slightly off stage, watching the scene unfold. Thousands of roaring fans carrying signs and lights filled the stadium, all of them reaching for the trio.
Cash Register Fire.
The band that you had put your heart and soul into getting signed. They deserved it, putting hundreds of hours of time into their music. You remember the first days of being with them, hanging out in their studio apartment. You sighed softly, recalling the sweet memories.
Laughter fills the room.
“Oh fuck-,” Chloe cries out as her cymbal crashes to the floor. You clap, leaning against the back wall.
“Very convincing. The records will love seeing this,” You giggle, shaking your head.
“Get used to it,” Chloe smirks, throwing her arm around you. “It’s part of the brand.”
“Chloe, don’t scare her off yet,” Rachel groans. “Nahhh,” Steph calls. “She’s already used to our bullshit.”
“Chloe’s bullshit,” Rachel corrects.
Chloe steps away from you, and you almost want to lean back into her.
“Shut the fuck up,” Chloe rolls her eyes.
Huh. You furrow your brows, pondering the moment. What had changed between you and Chloe? You crane your neck to see her on stage. Blue hair, tattoos, piercings, Chloe’s the definition of punk rock. Your cheeks flush. She looks incredible in that tank top. You catch yourself, shaking your head and stepping back. No. You cannot be thinking this about Chloe fucking Price. You turn around and walk away before you can think anything worse.
Finally, the show closes and the trio step backstage. “Holy shit you guys, you did amazing,” You exclaim, feeling prouder than ever. “You think?” Rachel sighs. “My voice cracked like 3 times.”
“Shut the hell up,” Chloe moans, punching Rachel in the shoulder. “You sang great and you know it.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Rachel rolls her eyes and pulls away. “Cmon, I’m fucking starving.”
As she pulls Steph away, you grab Chloe gently. “Er- nice work tonight,” you mumble, awkwardly. “Your drumming is… cool.”
“Cool drums. Uh- thanks for the feedback.” She runs her fingers through her hair. You nod slowly, avoiding eye contact.
“Listen- uh. You wanna ditch?” Chloe suggests quickly.
“…What?”
“Ditch. Y’know, go somewhere. Celebratory dinner or whatever,” She says.
“Oh. I mean, don’t you want to do that with the rest of the band?” You ask.
She shoves her hands in her pockets, embarrassed. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to,” She shakes her head. “It was a stupid idea anyway.”
“No! No, not at all,” You’re quick to respond. “I would love to go get something to eat.”
Her eyes widen, before falling back into her mock-annoyed expression.
“Yeah- I mean, yeah, I knew you were gonna say that. Okay, um, dinner.” Chloe grins slightly. “I know a place.”
You and Chloe pull up to a small diner on the edge of town. “Two whales,” You murmur.
“My mom owns the place,” Chloe explains. “But, uh, if you want to go somewhere else we can.”
You shake your head quickly. “No, this sounds nice. I’ve never been out here before,” You smile gently.
You both head inside and situate yourself in a booth.
“So.. not that i’m opposed to this, but what’s with the sudden change in attitude?” You question, smirking slightly.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Chloe grumbles, turning away.
“Oh? What, are you trying to rope me into a new scandal of yours?”
Chloe narrows her eyes.
“Again, my reputation isn’t your business. Just stop worrying about me,” She growls, crossing her arms and turning away.
“You mean doing my job?” You roll your eyes. “I’m not having this conservation with you again.”
“Then fucking don’t!” Chloe exclaims. “Can’t you fucking leave me alone?”
You slide out of the booth and glare at her.
“Fine, maybe I fucking will.” You grit, before storming out of the diner.
You sigh, burying your head in your arms. You had been working with CRF’s marketing team all morning trying to cover up Chloe’s newest ‘business’. After you had left her the previous night she had been spotted completely wasted in the closest bar. You almost felt bad. A knock on your office door makes you perk up. “Hey. How’s my favorite manager?” Rachel smiles softly.
“Ugh.” You groan, covering your face with your hands.
“Yeah, I know. But, listen, Chloe is.. not doing too well right now,” She informs.
“Okay? Can’t you handle that?” You grumble. She winces slightly.
“She locked herself in her room and won’t come out. We were hoping that she might let you in.”
“Why the hell would she let me in?” You question.
“Didn’t you use to be close? I know it’s a bit of a rough patch right now, but she might appreciate you trying,” Rachel replies with a nervous grin.
“I’ve been fucking trying. That’s all I do,” You shake your head in annoyance.
“Whatever. I’ll go see what she needs.”
“Chloe,” You bark, banging on her door. “Let me in.”
“What the fuck do you want?” She shouts, voice muffled from burying her face in her pillow.
“I want to know why you’re moping around. You’ve got everything you could possibly want, what more?” You fume.
Chloe pulls open the door with a huff.
“I do not have everything I want,” She growls.
“So what, you’re privileged enough to have most of it,” You cross your arms and narrow your eyes. “What else could you possibly want?”
Her gaze softens for just a moment, before returning to her glare.
“Something I can’t have,” She whispers.
“And what could that possibly be?” You roll your eyes.
Chloe suddenly grabs your arm and pulls you closer.
“Are you that fucking dense? Do I really need to spell it out to you?”
You gasp softly.
“Chloe..” You murmur.
Before you know it, her lips are on yours. You let yourself melt under her touch, wrapping your arms around her neck.
“Fuck,” She mumbles against your lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”
“Maybe I don’t know,” You whisper, “But you can show me.”
She smirks and pulls you into her room, locking the door.
“Yeah, I’ll show you.”
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wondipity · 7 months
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simp ʚɞ park jongseong
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ʚɞ basketball player!jay x cellist fem!reader ʚɞ
ʚɞ summary: you decide to invite your life long crush to your orchestra performance hoping it would spark something between the two of you. now the question everyone wants to know is "did it spark something?" ʚɞ
ʚɞ fluff!!! plus high school au ʚɞ
ʚɞ warnings: making out!!! reader has long hair and sunghoon lowkey abuses jay ʚɞ
ʚɞ word count: 1.4k!! ʚɞ
ʚɞ (a/n): 1.4k!! wowwww... my first sorta full fic hehe!! i used to play cello in high school so this sorta just came to me while i was looking through my yearbook so yeah, hope you enjoy guys! ʚɞ
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Jay HATED his friends.
“Oh my god man you’re such a simp!” Sunghoon yelled out, throwing the basketball in Jay’s face just to get his point across. Jay grumbled and rubbed his nose where the basketball had smacked him. He jogged across the court to get the ball that had rolled away (and to escape his horrible friends).
Heeseung laughed as Jay came back with the basketball in one hand and Sunghoon’s Gatorade in the other. “Another word out of you and I will dump this into the trash can.” Sunghoon’s eyes widened as he pleaded and let out “no noo’s”'and “the blue flavour is the best one c'mon's''”.
Jay rolled his eyes until he saw you walking into the gym and holy shit you looked gorgeous. Your hair cascaded down your slightly oversized grey sweater and a pretty smile was plastered on your face. Your friends Giselle and Winter were beside you, flyers in hand. Jay could have watched you for ages. Well, until Sunghoon hit him in the head again.
“Oww!” Jay yelled out, glaring at Sunghoon. He didn’t realise how loud he was until he caught you and your friends staring at him weirdly. His cheeks flushed as he looked down and ran to get the basketball. Which coincidentally came to a stop at your feet.
Jay’s cheeks burned brighter and before he could reach down to get the ball, Giselle shoved a flyer in his face. Jay stumbled back a little and you giggled softly before reaching to take the flyer from Giselle’s hands.
Jay watched as you gently handed him the purple and blue flyer. “Here,” you said, your soft voice causing him to take a shaky breath. He carefully took the flyer from you, shivering a bit when your lithe fingers grazed his thicker ones. His eyes scanned the sheet of paper, picking up words like “performance”, “tonight”, and “Decelis Orchestra”.
“We’re performing today,” your pleasant voice caused Jay’s focus to snap to you, wanting to drink in every one of your words. “Please come to the hall at 6 in the evening if you’d like to watch us!”
Your kind eyes and sweet smile was very different from Giselle and Winter’s, whose sarcastic smiles and sharp eyes seemed as if they were telling him ‘come or else!’. So yeah, Jay did what any guy who was in his situation would do. Stay silent for a good minute and mutter a quick “yeah whatever” before RUNNING AWAY FROM HIS FREAKING CRUSH back to his friends who were waiting for him at the basketball court.
How stupid. Jay thought of his actions as stupid.
How cute. You thought of Jay’s actions as cute.
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“Girl calm down,” Winter said as Sunoo rubbed your back up and down, trying to calm your nerves. You peeked through the red curtains of the stage, wild eyes roaming the crowd until they stopped at one person. Jay Park.
Your eyes widened and your breaths got shallower. Winter just rolled her eyes as she got a good look at what got you so worked up. “Simp,” she murmured, turning her back to you to yell at Beomgyu to stay in his position. Sunoo just gave you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading to his own position.
“[Name], what are you doing, take a seat!” Jungwon came up to you, obvious panic in his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Principal Miller gave me a chance to organize this event and if I fail, she will murder me! Now go sit down so you can rock that cello!”
You smiled slightly at Jungwon before taking your seat in the center of the stage. You took a deep breath in and changed the cello position. Jungwon raised an eyebrow at you and you nodded, signifying that you were ready to start. The curtain raised and the bright light shined in your eyes.
3, 2, 1
You close your eyes as the music starts, shutting off your brain. Your fingers draw the bow over the strings as you hum along to the music playing. You loved playing cello. It allows you to forget everything. It allowed you to feel like you.
Your eyes peeked open and you caught sight of Jay, his mouth slightly ajar and his hands frozen midway through the clap position. Seeing your longtime crush have this reaction to the music that you’re playing sent a massive boost of confidence through your veins. You close your eyes once more as you flow along with the music, barely realizing that the performance was over. After playing, nothing mattered. 
The rest of the event was a blur. Teachers, parents, students, and guests all congratulated you. You just smiled and nodded. Jungwon came up to you and hugged you, telling you about how he was now going to run so many more events at school. You just smiled and nodded. Your parents came up to you, taking so many photos and asking if you had a good time. You just smiled and nodded. But when Jay came up to you, you didn’t smile and nod. You didn’t have time to.
Jay rushed up to you and hugged you tight, knocking the breath out of you. You blinked once, then twice then wasted no time in hugged him back, because fuck, your crush of 4 years was hugging you and you’d be a fool not to take advantage of this. “You were amazing,” you heard Jay mumble into your shoulder.
You bit back a smile and muttered a soft “thank you” in response. “Seriously, you brought tears to my eyes [Name],” Jay said, pulling away to look at you. You giggled and brushed a lock of hair away from your eyes. You felt Jay’s dark eyes scaling your face before he did the unthinkable.
HE KISSED YOU!
Well, not like a real kiss.
You stood there completely frozen as Jay pecked your cheek lightly. You looked up at him as he looked down, looking as if he was about to apologize. But you didn’t let him. Because this time you did the unthinkable.
.
.
.
YOU KISSED HIM!
(And a real kiss this time) This time it was Jay’s turn to be flustered. Your soft lips enveloped his and you let out a soft sigh into his mouth. Jay got over it quicker than you did though and a soft growl escaped him before he grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to him, giving him a chance to push his tongue into your mouth.
You smiled into the kiss as you ran your fingers through Jay’s hair, prompting a soft groan out of him. He pulled away first, panting heavily as his sharp nose nudged yours. “I’ve wanted to do that since forever,” he muttered, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You giggled and said “I’ve wanted you to do that since forever, which is why I invited you here.” Jay blinked then chuckled letting his head fall back as his laugh grew louder. He grinned at you and whispered in your ear “Could've just told me sweetheart,” His warm breath fanned your ear, causing you to shudder.
You shared another sweet kiss before Sunghoon started cheering for you guys. You broke the kiss and looked on with wide eyes as Sunghoon, Heeseung and Jake were all cheering loudly while Giselle, Winter, Jungwon, Sunoo just gave you a thumbs up and made other supportive signals.
Oh my god you and Jay were done for.
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“SIMP!” 
Just like old times, Sunghoon was abusing Jay physically and Jay was abusing Sunghoon verbally while Heeseung and Jake just watched on and laughed. The only thing that was different was the group of orchestra kids on the bleachers cheering them on.
Jay huffed as Sunghoon threw the ball way too far once more. “Fucking idiot,” he muttered but the angry look on his face melted into a smile when he saw where the ball landed. You caught the ball with your (surprisingly agile) cellist hands and threw it to him so he wouldn’t have to come here.
But he did anyway. He came and he kissed you and he brushed your hair out of your face and he told you how you were the most beautiful girl in the world and he caressed your cheeks and rubbed your noses together and-
And Sunghoon hit him with the ball again.
“YAHHHH!!!!”
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Brat Hours
You dramatically react to an issue involving your friends and so Billionaire Entrepreneur, Lanniscorp CEO Tywin Lannister takes your phone, makes you an offer that makes you panic, then fucks your panic away.
Modern!Tywin Lannister x Reader | 5k+ | cw: fem!reader, crack fic kinda, implied sugar daddy/sugar baby dynamic, age difference, pwp tbh, smut (bdsm, brat/brat tamer, daddy kink, degradation kink, bondage [belt], teasing, edging, fingering, piv, mild spit kink, dumbification kinda, breeding kink, cockwarming, biting, marking), fluff, etc.
A/N: im so down bad for this old man that the plot ends at 1k 😀 cross posted on ao3. Please consider donating €5 to Rital's GoFundMe, so that she and her family can evacuate Gaza.
Tagging: @ceoofyearning sabi mo tag kita wag mo ko block
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Tywin Lannister lifts his gaze from his computer screen, eyes narrowing at the sight across the room. His desk is positioned in front of a window that looked out to the large expanse of the Casterly Rock estate. Directly in front of him, laid upon his massive bed, there, I sprawled, squealing into a pillow, wallowing in the velvety sheets.
He leans back into his leather office chair, stretching out an arm. He rests his palm on his oak desk, "will I be hounded for concert tickets to some smelly half-wit vocalist's concert again?"
His stubbly jaw clenches as he awaits a reply. He gets none.
I throw my phone onto the pillows and stand. I start pacing around the bed.
Tywin calls my name.
It does not register. I jump back into the sheets and continue to scroll on my phone. After I yelp and sit up, I flinch when he calls my name sternly.
Tywin shakes his head and sighs. He raises a hand and beckons me over with two fingers.
I chew my lower lip and rub my thighs. My skin is cool to the touch, as I only had booty shorts and an old band tee of The White Walkers on. Tywin hated it.
I sluggishly walk over to him, dread lumping in my stomach as I take in the old man's expression. "I didn't do anything wrong," I pipe up.
Tywin turns his chair to the side, anticipating my arrival. He spreads his legs, giving me perfect view of his well-ironed, grey dress pants. He opens his arms out for me, and I gratefully take my seat on his lap, my bum on one thigh and my legs in the middle of his. He links his hands together, resting them on my hip bone, "then who would cause a troublemaker so much trouble?"
I drop my head and peer up at him through my lashes, unable to fully meet his gaze knowing what I would have to say to him.
I nestle my face into his neck. One hand sneaks its way around his back, the other fondles with his white dress shirt. I undo two buttons as I take in his rich, earthy scent.
Immediately, he understands what is happening, "speak, girl, even if it's petty."
"But it's hella petty."
Tywin sighs and tries to look at my face. He cannot, so he instead turns his chair back to his computer and pulls us closer to his desk, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what ails you."
I scowl when his hands leave me to go back to typing on his keyboard. I pull away from the comfort of his shoulder to show him my displeasure.
He ignores me.
My pout exaggerates, "nooooooo."
"No?" he spares me a raised eyebrow, "so you want my attention?"
I furrow my brows and cross my arms, "no."
"Funny," he looks back at his computer, "I was certain you'd sooner perish than be rid of it."
I sound off, offended and annoyed.
He clicks on his mouse, then scrolls through his emails.
I shoot him a nasty look.
He mumbles whilst reading the text on his computer screen, momentarily making a face because of whatever he reads.
My annoyance festers.
He begins to type his response.
I grumble, "Tywin."
He continues typing.
"Tywin," I groan and whine, "I want your attention."
He leans back on his chair again, hands coming down to his armrest. We stare at each other for a moment, I knew, because he was waiting for me to take it down a notch. He tilts head, "sit properly then, girl."
I make an annoyed sound, tightening my lips.
Tywin acknowledges the challenge and simply squashes it, "will you really make me repeat myself?"
I scoff, "I don't even like sitting on your lap."
He chuckles, deep and gutteral, annoyed and amused at once. It makes my stomach do flips. He motions with his pointer, "then get off."
I growl and straddle his lap, sitting on him 'properly'. I wrap my arms around him and nuzzle back into his neck, "stop telling my what to fucking do."
He nostrils flare. His thorax emits a low hum. He scratches his nails on my back then digs one hand into the roots of my hair. He tugs my head back, forcing me to turn to him, "watch your mouth, else I'll put it to good use-"
"Try me-"
"-I'll make you record the Lannister jingle for me."
My eye twitches. I pull away and sit up straight.
His expression shifts, knowing how much I fucking loathe his company's stupid-ass jingle. My lips curl in disgust, "yuck, the fu-- the... heck."
Tywin's lips curl slightly upward. His one hand rests on the curve of my bum, the other rests on my cheek. He swipes my lips with his thumb then brings that hand opposite the other, "filthy girl."
I scowl again.
He leans on his headrest and shakes his head, "will you speak, or shall I return to Mr. Baelish and his Vale proposal?"
My brows relax at the mention, "he's proposing something in the Vale?"
"Mmm. Undoubtedly a plot to get a promotion," he says, swiveling to reach out for his keyboard.
I swat his hand and place it back in my side.
Tywin looks back at me.
I growl and brush my hair back in annoyance. With a deep sigh, I cross my arms, looking down at my lap. I feel him looking at me, so I toy with his belt to distract myself from his scorching gaze.
He does not appreciate it, "behave."
"I ammmm."
He does not respond.
I sigh again and finally look up at him, "you know that show I watch?"
He places his hands on my thighs, his large, warm palm heats up the area, "the ghastly one about looney blondes?"
"Mmm."
"Yes. Are they finally cancelling it?"
I turn to his chest and trace the opening of his shirt with my fingers, "opposite actually. They renewed it and my moots are killing each other."
I look up at him when he does not respond.
"Online friends," I correct and drop my hand.
He furrows his brows, "so? Let them die."
I inhale deeply, "Tywin-"
"No," he raises a finger, "I understand these online friends of yours mean something to you, but if they are causing you to scream and roll around the bed over an idiotic programme, then you're more simple minded than you've let on."
I scoff, "why not just call me a slur?"
He slips a hand underneath my shirt, rubbing my sides, "I will never understand why such an exquisite creature finds such entertainment in something so dull anyway."
"Hey, it's not that bad, plus I'm only watching the show for Smith Matthews."
He hums, "and what shall we do with the people vexing you over that show?"
"They're not vexing me, they're destroying themselves over opinions on fictional characters and started bringing personal agendas into it."
Tywin watches as a line forms between my brows.
"It's seriously making me anxious because, oh my gosh, it's not that deep," I sigh, resting my hands on his shoulder.
He stares at me for a moment, "show me."
Without another word, I stand up, get my phone from the bed, and sit back down on him. I open my app and begin to drone about the details of the drama.
"Which user is doing this again?"
I show him my screen and he takes my phone, staring at my following list as I explain what happened, "--and then she was like, 'no fucking way' then posted this whole-ass thing about-"
"I've blocked them," he hands me back my phone.
My soul escapes me, "w h a t?"
"I believe the feature was created precisely for moments like thi-"
"DID YOU ACTUALLY?!" I gasp, "OH MY GODS, OH MY GODS--"
Tywin watches as I frantically look through my phone. My expression drops and my heart races as I swipe the screen, seeing that I, in fact, was now following significantly less people. I frantically unblock them.
"TYWIN, YOU BLOCKED PEOPLE NOT EVEN PART OF THE-"
"Enough!" he grabs my phone and chucks it onto his desk.
I stare at him and clench my jaw. My adrenaline is pumping, and so I take it out on his arms, squeezing his biceps until he groans and grabs my hands.
"Your calamity is imagined," he mutters. He rubs my shoulders, "do not waste your time on people you'll not even meet."
"IT'S NOT IMAGINED!" I shake my hands, "IT'S REAL TO ME!"
He flinches at my shriek. He releases me and sighs.
"You can't just do stuff like that!" I whine, feeling my eyes water, "this is like if I went through your emails and deleted the ones that annoyed you."
He purses his lips. He takes a moment before sighing his response, "so? What would you have me do?"
I glare at him and scratch my eyes.
"Hmm?" he shrugs his leg, nudging me on his lap, "is all that's left? For you to cry about your digital pals?"
"grAH! It's not like I can just follow them back and say someone took my-- no wait... I can just say that!"
Tywin raises his brows as I turn to take my phone. Before I can do anything though, he shakes his head, "I thought interacting with them 'freaked you out?'"
"Yes, but I can't just-"
"I'll have their accounts suspended." 
I raise my brows as he turns to his desktop.
"What's that app called? I'm sure it will be easy to get someone to-"
"No-- honey, that's so dramatic," I place my hands in his chest.
He turns to me with a raised brow, "now it's dramatic?"
"You're talking about suspending accounts just because!"
"Because they bother you," he rebuts, face dead serious.
His deadpan makes my stomach roll. I gulp and feel my heart race.
"Besides, what's one more bloody email to me when I've gone through hundreds?"
My breathing begins to grow heavy, but no longer because of my internet dilemma.
He averts his attention to his computer, "now tell me the name of that stupid app."
I take a deep breath and chew on my lip. I place my phone down and slump as I look at him, "you like me so much you'd waste your time on this?"
If it was possible, Tywin's deadpan drops even more. 
I lick my lips and hold back a laugh, momentarily grinding down on him.
He turns to me.
I mutter, "my stomach feels fuzzy."
"Because of your internet issue?" he leans his head back.
"Hmm... and cos I like how much you like me."
I catch the slight glimmer in his eyes, though he tries not to betray his deadpan.
I sniffle for effect and shrug. I rub our noses together and bite my lower lip, "Mr. Lannister, do you have a crush on me?"
His brows quirk and he is unable to conceal his chuckle. He breaks into a groan and rubs his hands up my back, "what irritating creature you are."
My breath hitches as he leans in for a kiss. It was a chaste one, one that meant to show affection or even soothe. In truth, it was slightly surprising, considering his affections were mostly tangible. I pull away to giggle at him and grasp his cheeks, "you like annoying girlies?"
"Careful now, girl" Tywin narrows his eyes, "I enjoy you, but be careful."
"Mmm," I nudge his face with my nose, "and how would you like to enjoy me, kitty?" I bring my hands to his belt.
"Gagged."
I chuckle as I undo his buckle, "but milorddd--"
He gruffs.
"--I want you to use this on my wrists."
Tywin draws a deep breath, "the brat wants to be bound, does she?"
I nod slowly and pull his belt off. I hang the black leather on me like a scarf and grab his face, kissing him greedily. I shift on his lap and grind down on him. I chuckle when I feel him hardness through my shorts.
"Where do you want to enjoy me, daddy?" I mutter before licking a stripe up his neck.
He groans, "on my desk, whore."
He doesn't have to tell me twice as I shove his things out of the way to make room for myself on the surface. I lie on my back, curling my legs up as I excitedly loop the belt.
"On your belly," he commands.
"Nooo," I whine as I willingly trap my wrists in knot I prepared, "wanna see you. Wanna see you get tired as you fuck me."
Tywin grabs his belt and tightens my bounds, "filthy brat."
I giggle then huff as he yanks my arms up and positions me on his desk. He pushes the hand that held my bound ones above my head and looks down at me. I stretch my legs and wrap them around his waist, "love seeing your face when you come in me, daddy."
"Mmm," he leans and grinds down on my steadily dampening core, "you like seeing me use you like a clock sleeve?"
My breathing strains. I nod with enthusiasm, "all I'm good for."
He hums again, deeply pleased. He grinds rougher into me, causing me to shift from my spot. He grabs my thigh with his free hand and repositions me, "you know your place-"
I grind my hips, meeting his rhythm.
"-yet you somehow believe I should reward you for being a whore," he mutters, stopping his movements.
I make a sound at the lack of friction and seal him tighter around my legs.
"So audacious in your need," he digs his fingers into the garter of my shorts, "beg for it."
"Please," I lick my lower lip, "I need you-- need you to fuck me- use me like toy-"
"Desperate hussy," he pulls my shorts down.
Just as he said, I desperately wiggle to help him pull my shorts off with one hand. He chuckles and sinks his face into my neck, taking in my scent then nipping my skin.
"Let's see how desperate you are," he whispers hotly against my ear.
He rids me fully of my bottoms. He fastens my legs back around him then grinds down into me once more. The friction of his pants on my bare cunt makes me hiss. I moan and throw my head back, adjusting my hips until it feels good. The sound that leaves me when he rubs me the right way is nasty.
Tywin simultaneously moans and sighs. His nails scratch up my thigh and he squeezes my hips before continuing the travel to my breast. He pushes my shirt up and kneads my fleshy lumps. He hums in approval when I arch my back.
"Please. More," I whimper, looking up at him.
He tilts his head, "more what?"
"More you," my hands begin to strain as I overcome with the need to touch him.
He senses it and tightens my bounds, making me whimper. He renews his grip on my wrists then brings his other to inspect the building mess between my thighs.
I moan when he rubs my clit. He pulls back and inspects my arousal. He wets his two fingers with my slick before sinking into me. I whine at his prodding, jaw hanging low, hips grinding into him, "Tywin."
"So soft," he pumps his fingers into me, "so fuckable."
My stomach tightens at the wet sounds of his ministrations, and in turn, I clench around his fingers.
He moans my name, making my stomach flip. He rubs his palm into my clit, "your cunt's hungry for my fingers."
I moan, needing more friction. I pant like a depraved animal, "more, fuck, please."
Tywin basks in the way he makes me tick. He tunes in to the sounds I emit as my folds leak more and more.
I whimper when he pulls out and brings his fingers to my lips. Without any thought, I dutifully clean them, lapping evidence of myself off his digits. I graze his skin with my teeth as he pulls out with a pop. He chuckles, "dirty work for a dirty girl."
"Yes, please, I'm a dirty girl."
I yelp when he grabs me by the throat and pushes my head back. He does not choke me per se, but there is pressure in his hold. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, "again, you think you deserve a reward for being a harlot?"
"No, daddy," I whine, "being a needy whore doesn't win me prizes."
"Mmm," he trails his hands back down to my breast.
"But it does make your cock hard," I sigh as I roll my hips.
This sets Tywin off. It's a visible change. He proceeds to rub my clit to prove a point, and clearly the point is to make me writhe and come all over his desk.
I moan unabashedly, something he's always loved about me. I whine his name and chant agreements, encouraging his finger fucking. I roll my hips and arch my back even more. I throw my head back and feel my neck strain as I chase the building pleasure he was supplying.
And I really shouldn't have been surprised, but he stops just as my orgasm was dawning.
I look at him, teary eyed from the loss of my incoming high. I pout and whine.
"Beg."
"Please, please,  I wanna come, baby. I need it. I need it, I want it."
Tywin teases me with his thumbs.
I let out a strangled moan, feeling my body quake, "mmm-- daddy, please. I need you! I need you to fuck me. I want you to fuck me with your fingers, with your cock, oh- fuck- want you to come in me and spit in my mouth and ruin me."
Tywin groans and shakes his head, "you truly are a depraved little whore, aren't you?"
I moan and nod, "yes. Yes, I am. I need it so bad, daddy, it hurts. My pussy needs you-"
He grabs my jaw, squeezing it to keep it open, "you want my spit in your mouth?"
I nod rapidly and stick my tongue out.
"You will not get everything that you want, slut," he says, releasing me to undo his pants with one hand.
I pant as I watch him free himself. When he does, my cunt quakes in anticipation, aching to be filled. I spread my legs, bringing my knees to my sides. My brows furrow in concentration, "please, please, please, I need your cock. Use me, please. I need you--"
My words are cut off by him finally driving into me. I squeal in excitement. I groan and tightly grip on the belt as much as I can. He thrusts into me with little regard for anything but himself. He gets lost in his thrusts. He presses his hand into my inner thigh and pushes my leg down. He pulls the belt on my wrists and pistons harder.
I cry out in approval. I mumble incoherent words of praise and encouragement in manner that scratches my throat.
Tywin eventually releases his hold on my bounds in lieu of rubbing my clit. At the same time, he thrusts slower and deeper, making me throw my head back in pleasure.
"Fuck! Just like that. That feels so fucking good, mmm fuck-"
He drags out his cock even slower, withdrawing until he's nearly out then sinking back in till his stones hit my ass. His deft fingers, wet with my lust for him, rapidly rub my clit in a fast and delicious pace. I squeal when he sporadically slaps into me, only to draw back out in a languid manner again.
My eyes begin to water and my belly trembles at the ministrations.
I whine on beat with his thrusts when he grabs my hips with his large hands and plunges deep, bullying my cunt with short and shallow shoves. My breathing is loud and hard as I wrangle out of my bounds, dying to touch him as he makes my pussy flutter. Seeing this, Tywin growls and pushes my hands back down, "stupid whore. Lay down and take it."
I make a squeaky noise, "wanna touch you- needa touch you."
"Were you not the one who asked for this?" he groans through laboured breath, "are you so dumb fucked already you've forgotten?"
I squeal and feel my breath get knocked out of me when he returns to a more brutish pace, holding me down by my decolletage. My body jolts on impact, in turn, making the desk creak and the objects upon it jostle. My salivating mouth chokes out a response, "no-- wanna to- wan' touch you, da-" I whine, "please."
"Greedy come slut."
I let out a broken moan, "lovie, please- please. Wanna touch- wanna pull you close--"
"I'm inside you," he chuckles darkly, one hand tightening around my throat.
The lack of oxygen and his thrusts make me see stars.
The next moment, he begins to fuck me slowly again, grinding into me in a moderate tempo. He stuffs his thumb into my mouth, effectively muffling my whines. I haughtily suck on his finger. With the new found quiet, the wet slapping and thrusting was now audible to anyone earshot. The sounds makes my belly wild with lust.
"Look at you," he mumbles as he does just that. He looks at me as I suck on his thumb and mewl; he watches as his cock disappears into core, my puffy lips parting with every thrust, "so eager for my seed."
I pathetically sound off at the idea, rolling my hips as I did.
"Shall I put an heir into your belly, pet?" he releases my wrists, bringing the now free hand onto my stomach, "my pretty girl."
I gag at the idea, nibbling down on his thumb as I desperately wiggle the belt off my hands. Tywin ignores me as the fantasy of fucking me pregnant clouds his mind. His breath strains as he rubs a side of my stomach, "though, I do like painting your skin with my seed."
I whimper and furrow my brows. I choke on his thumb as I mutter, "no, inside. Inside, please!"
Tywin is snapped out of his fantasies and pulls his thumb out of my mouth. He tilts his head as he watches me struggle out of the belt, "oh? You think you deserve that?"
I make a frustrated sound as I free myself from my bounds. All the while, Tywin uses his wet thumb to slowly draw circles on my clit.
I gasp when I finally manage to shrug the belt off my wrists.
Lost in the thought again, Tywin continues with his steady and deep pistoning. He imagines how my body might change to accommodate his child, how my belly will grow, how my breasts will heavy, how my slick will sweeten. He hums and curses under his breath. He doesn't actually want an heir, he doesn't think, but gods fantasy of it all.
"Need it," I whimper, reaching out to him. I grab his dress shirt and scratch the sides of his ribs. I lick my lips and debate ripping the his shirt open, but don't want to deal with repercussions of flying buttons nor what he'll do to me for destroying his shirt. I hastily unbutton his top and rub the expanse of his chest. My hands run up to his neck. I massage his shoulders and pull him close, lifting my head up to kiss him.
Tywin leans down, lips finding my own, but just before I can deepen our kiss, he pulls away and clutches my jaw, "I asked if you deserve it, my stupid fuck-toy," he rests his forehead on my temple, "not if you need it."
As this point, his movements slow then cease altogether. I whine in protest.
He clicks his tongue and rubs my thighs, "use your words, darling."
I continue to whine as I scratch as his nape. "I deserve it," I stretch out, peppering kisses all over his face. He leans into me. I lick his lower lip, " 'm a good girl, officer. So good."
He groans when I begin to roll my hips again. He grips the curve of my ass and shakes his head, "your whorish nature proves overwise."
"Please, please, please--"
"Will you cry to me about your woes and then cry again when I take action?"
I rapidly shake my head, "never. Never, lovie."
Tywin hums and rubs his nose on my cheek.
"Please," I beg, "please," I urge, "please."
He kisses my jaw and begins to move again. I squeal in relief and nip at his ear.
"Since you asked so nicely," he mutters, propping himself up on his palms.
I shift my weight on my elbows and chase after his mouth. I give him messy kisses and make it a point to catch his lips between my teeth at least once. Though normally, he would see this as an act worth punishing, in the moment, he did not care. He, quite frankly, loved the neediness, not that's he'd say that out loud.
Tywin loses himself as he bucks into a thorough pace. He plows into me with enough force to make his desk squeak and thud in protest. I meet his movements with the grinding of my hips and wanton pants. Amidst all the sensations, I feel my climax quickly drawing near.
"Yeah, baby, so good. So good."
He grunts as he squeezes the flesh on my hips. He pushes my knees back with one hand as the other rubs down to the small of my back, "you like that?"
I claw at his shoulder, dig my fingers into his nape, and rapidly nod, mumbling in mindless agreement. He huffs, looking down at me in self-satisfaction, wholly enjoying the reaction he was garnering. He spectates the wet slapping of our skin and the shuddering of my belly. He rubs circles on my clit.
"Fuck, Tywin."
He hums, "such sweet sounds."
I drop my head back.
"Prove your obedience then. Come on my cock."
I whimper his name out repeatedly and chase my incoming high.
Tywin pounds into me with more vigor, rougher and harder and more desperate.
I feel my belly begin to tighten. I howl and pull him close. I bring my mouth to his neck and graze him my teeth. I sigh and lick his skin before sucking the area, "give it to me, gimme, baby-- need it, need'a-"
His mouth finds mine and we share a heated kiss. He pushes me flat on the desk, hands on my shoulder and hip. He grips me tightly as he stokes the fire building inside him. He flicks his hips at a desperate pace and his expression displays his single-mindedness: his brows furrow, his jaw drops. My own face makes known how intoxicating it all was. Much as I wanted to watch him come, the twitch of my features prevent me from doing so, and soon enough, my eyes screw shut to focus on my pleasure.
Tywin's nails bite into my skin, and with two strong, distinct plunges, he grunts and releases his lustful heat. He continues to fuck me through his peak, and I feel him throb as he sighs deeply in ecstacy.
Quickly after, I let out a throaty squeal as my body breaks into burning bliss. My spine twists and my thighs shake as I feel my come spill down my ass onto the wood supporting my weight. I heave heavily through my open mouth and squeeze the arm pushing my shoulder down with both my hands. I lick his fingers as I grind into him, riding out my climax.
He begins to falter moments later. I wrap my legs around his waist and seal him in place. My body buzzes as he caresses my neck and rubs my lips with his thumb.
Breathlessly, he praises, "good girl."
My belly tingles and my eyes open to his look of bliss. I lick his thumb then kiss it, pulling his hand off me to then kiss his palm, "thank you, daddy."
Tywin takes a couple open-mouthed breaths as he examines me. He kneads my exposed breast then rubs down my belly. He licks his lips, evidently satisfied. I whimper as I push myself up and bury my face into the crook of his neck. I sneak my arms underneath his open shirt and pepper kisses on his skin, licking, nibbling, and doting on him.
He's accustomed to how I get after a good fucking, and though his sigh was that of content, it was also something else. He places his hands on the curve of my hips and nudges me with his nose, "I have work to do, needy pup."
I bite his neck hard enough to make him react. He calls my name out as a warning. "Wanna stay like this," I whisper hotly against his ear.
He sighs again as my lips kiss their way to his. He knits his brows but returns my affection.
I drape my arms over his shoulders, one hand combing through his white hair, "don't want my old man to be cold."
Tywin makes a disapproving sound at my feigned concern. He rolls his eyes and I simply giggle, knowing even in his annoyance, he'd let me have my way. "You will not distract me," says the man with his serious Lannister™ voice.
I am immensely undeterred and overly confident in my post-sex state, and so I stick my tongue out through my teeth before shaking my head. He sighs yet again, shaking his head as he tries to push me off. I whine and scowl in offense, tightening my arms and legs around him. The man knows it's futile, and yet he continues to push me back, as he also knows he will let himself get distracted once this work stokes his ire.
Coming to terms with his defeat, he stops pushing me off. I pull my lips into a pleased smile and look at him.
He raises his brow and warns, "you will not speak a word unless spoken to."
My stomach rolls at the severity of his tone.
"And you will not complain about how I'm ignoring you, nor long it's taking me to complete my work while you are nestled on my lap."
I chew my lip and tilt my head, "can I complain if I'm off you?"
"Yes."
I nod, "okay, kitty meow meow, sit down on your chair then."
Tywin's brow quirks.
I blink expectantly, "come on, honey. With all the exercise we do, I'm sure you can manage to get us on your chair."
He glares at me, but I simply do not care. I grin and rub the line between his brows.
With a grunt from him and a giggle from me, we end up on his chair. I kiss his cheek and rub his shoulders, "good boy."
He ignores me and rolls his chair towards his desk with slight difficulty. He arranges his things and wipes down the wet blob on his desk with a tissue, "dirty temptress."
I chuckle and rest my head on his shoulder.
We both know Tywin Lannister would never donate to charity 🤢 be better than our old man, and please consider donating €5 to Rital's GoFundMe if you enjoyed this fic.
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jiminiecrickets · 1 year
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jeon jungkook ♡ series masterlist
wc. 2.2k
tags. smut | dom top!m!reader, handjobs, praise, shower sex
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"you agreed. you pinky-promised. was what you wrote really that bad?"
he shifts on the couch, tucking his feet up to his chin and hiding his face behind it. his face is a very, very dark shade of red. "it's awful. horrible. you'll break up with me if you read it."
"then why'd you write it down in the first place?"
"i don't know!" he whines. "i was feeling brave!"
you set down the controller. on the large flat-screen tv, your characters circle the mario kart track behind the scoreboard. waluigi, jungkook's character, throws a tantrum in his race-car. "give me the paper."
"you'll hate me."
fourth place. fourth place. he can't believe himself. your name is highlighted at the top, neatly settled in first place. he'd been so comfortable, in the lead for the entirety of the match, and his big ego decided that an 'all or nothing' pity round would come out in his favour.
as quick as lighting, you snatch the crumpled ball of paper and unfold it, slapping jungkook's panicked hands away. your brows furrow deeper the longer you look at it.
"you're right. you were feeling brave."
jungkook slumps against your shoulder, his face pinched in embarrassment. "please don't think badly of me because of it, hyung..."
lowering the torn corner of paper, you ask softly, "would you like to do this with me, kookie? i'm interested."
his head shoots up. "what? are you serious?"
"no, i'm batman." he rolls his eyes with a huff and you grin, eyes crinkling as you pull him into your side. "yes, i'm being serious. thank you for telling me – i would never have expected something like this out of my cute little boyfriend."
if possible, his pout intensifies. he crosses his arms over his knees, staring determinedly ahead at the game. "'m not little."
you hush him, tilting his face towards you and pressing a long kiss to those pretty pink lips. he hums breathily, leaning into you with a hand on your chest. he whines quietly when you finally pull away for air, his chest heaving as he blinks at you with wide, dark eyes.
"seven days," he whispers, leaning in and throwing his leg over your lap, caging your thighs with his own. he rocks his hips slowly, savouring your low groan of pleasure. "seven days to fuck me whenever and wherever you want. that's your prize, baby – don't waste it."
eyeing his body hungrily, you grin like a beast unchained. you cradle his tiny waist, and playfully, you lift your hand against it, comparing sizes. "oh, darling, i'm not letting a single inch of you go unloved."
he nibbles on his lower lip as you tug his shirt out of the waistband of his ripped jeans. he's due for his gym session tomorrow – goes every two or three days, whatever he can fit into his schedule – and he'd made lunch for the two of you just a few hours ago. his skin is warm, his tummy soft, and it tenses with a gasp under your palms as they glide across his skin.
"mh... sorry, baby," he whispers, lashes fluttering as he blushes a dusty pink. "i should've done this on gym day..."
"hm? why?" you rock his ass against your lap with a soft exhale. you arch a brow at him. "do you think you're only attractive to me when you're hungry and dehydrated? idiot."
"hey," he whines, a protesting pout adorning his lips. he touches your hand on his stomach, fingers wrapping around yours. "'m not an idiot! just... i dunno... i wanna be handsome for you, hyung, y'know?"
you give him a look. "did i ask you out, or your abs?"
"well, me..."
"i asked you out after we finished three large pizzas at two in the morning. i think we ate about a kilo of cheese each."
he snorts. "yeah, yeah... i guess."
"uh-huh." you squeeze his hips and bring him down to kiss him, lips moving gently together. you part and bury your nose in his neck, lazily moving your hips against one another. he moans softly as you roll your palm against his bulge. "baby, you're always beautiful to me. on gym day or not – i would worship you for hours if you'd let me."
he giggles softly. "that's why i don't. you gotta be more productive than being buried between my thighs from dawn to dusk." he slips your belt free and tosses it – you barely felt him doing it, too busy engraving the sight of his sweet eyes and smile into the backs of your eyelids. "but, you know, a whole week to do whatever you want to me..."
you groan lowly at the suggestion, hastily pulling him out of his pants. you don't do it with half the grace that he does, but he seems to appreciate your enthusiasm, his cock already hard and twitching with anticipation. "mm, that does sound amazing. okay, ground rules: no touching yourself at any point. only i can get you off."
"fuck, o-okay, hyung. agreed."
you pump his cock slowly, capturing his lips hungrily. he drawls out a moan, his fingers drifting up your wrist. his other hand cradles the back of your head and he presses your foreheads together, his breath warm and quick against your cheek.
you flick your wrist and he whimpers softly, grip tightening around the base of your hand. his cock leaks as he bucks into your hand. you hush him, grazing your lips along his jawline. your hand quickens. "how does that feel, baby? good?"
"mm – mmhm," he whimpers. "it does, it does! feels really good..."
you spoil him too much. ever since you got together, he hasn't needed to touch himself – you're always right there, offering to do it for him. he's glad that you do – you can reach places so deep in him that he never knew existed, and you're always so gentle with him, making sure his pleasure is a priority.
he's dated a lot of people, but you're the first one who makes him feel so loved and important. it's almost embarrassing how much he loves you, how much he adores the way you pamper him.
he sniffles softly, burying his face in your shoulder. he grinds into your fist, cock dripping precome down your knuckles.
you hum softly, wrapping an arm around his waist. "you okay, darling? this too much?"
he shakes his head. "n-no... keep going. please. i love you."
it's sudden, and you stop moving for a half-second in surprise. "i love you, too, jungkookie. is everything alright?"
he nods, grabbing your hand and moving it up and down his swollen cock. it's cute and flushed red, twitching in your palm excitedly. "mhm. i just really love you – want you to know that."
who knew that love confessions mid-handjob could be so adorable? you smile into his hot skin and cradle him close as he gasps and jerks into your hand, spilling onto your shirt with a soft whimper.
for a long while, he remains completely lax in your arms, panting softly against your neck as he comes down from his high. when he opens his eyes tiredly, you smile down at him and kiss his cheek, tucking him back into his pants.
he whines quietly, reaching for your belt. "you didn't finish, baby... i can feel how hard you are."
you hum softly, tugging his hand away. "you need a shower, anyway. can i join you?"
his lower lip slips teasingly between his teeth. his eyes sparkle. "mm, of course. you're not getting away so easily, hyung-ah – i'm gonna eat you alive."
you smirk, letting him drag you to your feet and towards the bathroom. his eyes glint with mischief and he pulls you down by your collar to meet your lips with his, one of his hands tucked into the back pocket of your jeans. his thumb is hooked through a belt loop.
you groan into his mouth as he strokes your clothed bulge with a cheeky grin. "baby, don't test me. i'm the one with the week-long free pass to your ass."
 he winks. "why d'you think i'm doing this? last one into the shower loses!"
he wins. with the steamy water hitting your back, you cage jungkook against the glass, your arms sturdy beside him. you keep him safe, protected, from the world. not once does he feel trapped – not once does he feel confined in your love. no matter how closely you press against him, no matter how deep you are inside of him – you are his, and he is yours.
there's a certain freedom in being engulfed by your arms. he never expected it. spreading his thighs, kissing his shoulder – you love him like no other has. you love him in all the ways that matter and all the ways that don't because you're overflowing with it, that love of yours. even when you're balls deep inside him – an exciting, dirty kind of love that he blushes about in the mornings – you're smiling into his neck, murmuring about how lovely he is and how he deserves you, deserves your cock, deserves your love and deserves all that is good and bright. it's your turn to lavish him with love confessions and he can barely keep track of them all, his coherent thoughts running down the drain with each solid thrust of your hips.
"hyung," he whimpers, gnawing on his lower lip. he squeezes his eyes shut, fingers scrabbling for purchase fruitlessly against the smooth glass. your cock glides against his prostate and he grabs your hip, pulling you into him with a warbled moan. "f-fuck..."
"what's that, baby?" you murmur against his skin, hot and slick. your thrusts make him unravel, strong and hard and consistent against that spot inside him that makes him see stars. it's mind-melting. "you wanna tell me something?"
he whimpers, eyes squeezing shut as your hips shift against his ass, angling differently. your cock just grazes his prostate and he clenches around you, a warbled cry of your name leaving his lips. he feels so tiny – his feet between yours, your cock buried so deep in him he can practically taste it. he arches his back, tight ass pressing back against your pelvis, and savours your growl and the way your hand grips the opposite side of his waist, gripping the slim shelf of his hip.
"gotta use your words, pretty thing," you husk. with every thrust, it takes longer to bottom out, and eventually your hips still entirely. he whines, high-pitched and wanton, and grinds against you – you keep him at bay with one hand pressed firm to the small of his back. "easy, pretty. can you do that f'me? can you talk to me, tell me what you want from me?"
you step forward, forcing jungkook to stand straighter, pressed closer to the glass. trapped in your arms, he has no room to move, no room to argue. he shivers, chest grazing glass, and can't help the unsteady shuffle of his feet. the hot, steamy water hits your back and glides down your neck, your chest, dripping onto his shoulders.
lifting a hand, you tuck it against his upper ribs, fingers pressed into the lean muscle of his chest. the flesh – pull and push, stroking and caressing. he lets out a whisper of a moan as your warm fingers flick over his nipple, hard and pebbled.
"want you," he whines quietly, voice cracking in the middle when your hand travels down his hot, slick stomach and glides over his throbbing cock. he grabs your hip, fingers digging into you until his knuckles turn white. "w-want you – want you close to me, closer, please, want you closer—"
he breaks off with a babble as you take his hands and pin them flat to the glass. the motion draws you ever nearer – closer, as he'd say, the sweet thing – and your cock reaches so deep inside him, pressing against his stomach. he's dizzy with it, veins buzzing and head detached from his shoulders.
eventually, he hears your chuckle, like a radio knob turned slowly louder. his heart rabbits in his chest as he cracks open his eyes, temple pressed against the cold clear glass. his breath fogs it, and water trails down his cheeks from his damp hair, stuck to his skin the way it always does when you tear him apart and put him back together. his cock is wet and sticky, the heat tingling in his lower spine with a pulsing desperation.
it's all over his tummy, he thinks distantly with a soft whimper. he'd be embarrassed if he could remember the word.
when you finally finish, jungkook's legs feel like jelly. he curls his fingers around yours, lacing them together as he pants against the foggy glass, his hair damp and the air thick with the smell of sex. you kiss him over his shoulder and he moans against your lips, soft and tired. he smiles and closes his eyes as you reach for the shampoo – he leans back against your chest as you smooth your hand down his stomach, gentle and warm. he can feel your pulse through your palms and your heart through his ribs.
"i love you," he whispers against your throat. he means it in every iteration it has ever been.
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undiscovered-horizon · 10 months
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It is nights like these that make Coriolanus ponder the 'what ifs?' the most; it is nights like these that bring Lucy Gray back to his mind, even after all this time. Even if she's unwelcome.
If he was a better man, a little less power-hungry and a little more altruistic, he would have missed all of this. He never would have found you - a deer so susceptible to the wolf's skilful machinations. So impressionable, so devoted... And what gamesmanship it truly is to make the prey believe there's some grace in being eaten alive.
He's leaning against the doorframe leading to the nursery - awake, although you have told him to go back to sleep when your newborn daughter woke her parents up. Coriolanus is watching the scene unfold from afar, never letting even the smallest of details escape his attention. He wishes to gloat, to bathe in his own triumph.
Your face, which once smiled so brightly only for him, now smiles for another. What's strange, is that it doesn't make Coriolanus as angry or bitter as it usually would. That territorial beast residing deep in his viscera is wary but not bothered. Not yet, at least.
The baby's cries die down as you cradle her in your arms. In gentle, almost fearful, movements, you rock the newborn. Coriolanus sees your lips move but the whisper is too low for him to discern any words. Whatever it is you say to the youngest Snow, it makes her giggle and babble. The sound reminds him of your own laughter, which he so easily elicits with the smallest gestures of affection. Maybe too easily - although just as exciting, it was never a challenge.
You gently lay the baby back down in her cot. For a moment, you study her face with an expression so loving it's almost pathetic. Coriolanus feels his skin crawl. Something animalistic within him beckons the man to do truly terrible things only to ensure that it's him and him only that you look at with such adoration.
But the urge dies down when you turn away from the newborn and meet his gaze across the room. He's back in the centre of your attention, where he belongs. Suddenly, something changes in your eyes.
That glint of devotion is clouded by something much more mischievous, something he used to absolutely hate until he learned about its nature. Since he met you, you've been looking at him with a hint of insightfulness as though you could see right through his facade and read about his sins on the pages of the open book that was his soul. He felt seen and not in a good way. Then, after learning a few things about you, Coriolanus realized that this perceptiveness is the best thing he could hope for - you were smart enough to connect the dots, to notice patterns not many deemed obvious and yet, too blindsided by love, you thought of his wrongdoings as right. Not in the ethical sense, perhaps, but in logic. There was a method to his madness and a very effective one at that. After all, how utterly foolish would it be to play nice while in The Capitol? In a world of "eat or be eaten", Coriolanus was going to throw a feast. You knew it early on and appreciated the wit and grit it takes to do so.
Standing now in front of him, you slightly lift one of your eyebrows, silently asking him what's on his mind.
"You're beautiful," he confesses.
Your lips curve into a smile. "Tell me something I don't know."
His blue eyes bore into yours. The intensity of his gaze makes you want to look away but prohibits you from doing so at the same time. "I'd burn the whole world for you," he whispers, his tone gravely serious.
Coriolanus feels himself shudder when the back of your hand gently brushes his cheek. Still looking at you, he tilts his head to kiss your fingers.
"I said 'something I don't know', love," you retort in an equally low voice. "Now come, the morning is still far away."
You take his hand in yours, pulling him back towards your bedroom. And, for some strange reason, he lets you guide him.
If he was a better man, he would lead a different life. A more peaceful one, perhaps. But he's not a better man - in fact, he's far from being considered "good" or even "decent". Which is why his life is pleasant, instead of peaceful. And if awful things have brought him so much joy, why, pray tell, should he ever be anything but despicable?
_____
Me? Writing dark characters with dark themes? In other news, the water is wet.
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