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#and made me realise I never finished this run
vivwritesfics · 2 days
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Bleeding From The Storm
Chapter Three - Maxie
After the death of his son, the head of the Dupont family wants his daughter protected. He moved her to Monaco, the safe zone, and has her protected by Charles Leclerc. Max Verstappen was never supposed to meet her. He didn't even know who she was. But he knew she was beautiful, and he knew he wanted to know more, much to the horror of Charles Leclerc.
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For three days, Max went back to that café. On the first day and the second day, Bunny wasn't there. She was nowhere to be found around Monaco. Max tried to search for her, but his search came up empty.
On the third day, Max was ready to give up.
He still went back to the café as he had every day since, hope slowly dying in his chest. As much as he wanted to taste one of her fruity drinks on his lips, he couldn't bring himself to order one, not unless it was her hands passing it to him. Max had stuck to bitter coffees that he didn't much like the taste of.
As he rounded the corner, walking towards the café, he stopped. After three days of desperate searching, there was Bunny.
She was in a different dress this time, a pink one that made her look positively angelic. Her pretty lips were wrapped around the straw as her fingers, nails pink like her dress, wrapped around her glass.
Max flattened himself against the wall around the corner. As long as she couldn't see him. If she was alone, Max would have sauntered up to her, full of confidence and asked her out. He wanted to give her his number, to get to know Bunny even when he wasn't there in Monaco.
But she wasn't alone, was she? Max hated that he recognised the person she was with. Charles Fucking Leclerc. What the hell was she doing with Charles Leclerc? Did it mean she was from their world, too?
Max waited. He regularly checked around the corner, waiting for Charles to just piss off. He was getting antsy, and time was running out. Fuck, why did Charles have to be there?
At last, Charles stood up. He said something to Bunny, said something Max couldn't hear, and left. As soon as he disappeared inside of the café, Max pushed away from the wall and went striding towards her.
"Hey, Bunny," he said as he strode over to her and sat in Charles's seat.
Her eyes went wide and she looked at up him with a pretty smile. "Max, right?" She asked, her head resting in the palm of her hand.
He leaned forward, hands held together in front of him. "Listen, Bunny, I've got to go away for a little bit. But I would like to see you and I do want you to have my phone number," he said, pulling his phone from his pocket and passing it to her.
"Where are you going?" Bunny asked as she put her number into his phone and sent herself a text. "Anywhere nice?" A sultry smile crossed her lips, one Max was sure she didn't even realise she was wearing.
Max let out a chuckle and leaned back in his seat as he took the phone back from her. "I wish," he said with a chuckle, but he didn't elaborate further. He checked the time on his watch. "I've really got to go, Bunny. But I'll be back soon, I swear."
She sucked her smoothie through the straw and batted her lashes at him. "Goodbye, Maxie," she said and wiggled her fingers at him. It was an image Max never wanted to forget as he left, rushing away before Charles could catch him.
Not that Bunny knew. She kept watching Max, looking in his direction even after he'd disappeared. Her smoothie was quickly finished, just in time for Charles to sit back down opposite her.
"Was someone here?" He asked, immediately noticing the far away look in her eyes. She shook her head and went to drink more of the smoothie she had already finished. "Don't lie to me, Bunny."
"Nobody was here, Charles," she insisted. She looked down at her empty smoothie. "Can I get another?"
But Charles shook his head. "Sorry, Bun. But we've got places to be." He stood up and offered her his hand. She walked with, arm linked through his as they headed away from the café.
Charles led her to his car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and held her hand as she climbed in, her free hand holding the skirts of her pretty pink dress down. Her head was against the window as she hummed along to the radio, leaving Charles to concentrate on driving.
How long had it been since Bunny Dupont had been back in France? She didn't know. But the scenery didn't look familiar as Charles drove her towards her fathers house.
Her phone buzzed in her little purse, but she didn't pick it up. Max was her little secret, for now, and she didn't want Charles to know. Charles would just put a stop to it, even if Max was a lovely guy. She drummed her nails against the purse in her lap as Charles pulled up to the gates that guarded her fathers house.
"Charlie," she mumbled, looking towards him. Charles out a hum, never tearing his eyes away from the road as the gates swung open. "What does he want this time?" She mumbled, eyes cast down at her lap.
Charles parked outside of the house, but he didn't climb out. He let out a sigh and turned towards her, his eyes kind. "I know, Bun," he said, his hand coming to rest on her thigh. It was more comforting than anything. "I'll be with you the entire time."
She climbed out the car and slipped her purse over her shoulder. Charles placed his hand on her shoulder as they walked up to the house.
It was incredibly strange that Charles had a key and she didn't. He let them into the house and pushed the door shut, locking it as soon as they stepped in.
She hated coming back to the house. The walls were lined with pictures, portraits of her brother. While her father was obsessed with her brothers death, he hadn't dwelled on it. After a year of desperately searching for his killer, they gave up. The statue of Louis Dupont she could see out in the garden had her shivering.
Charles kept his hand on the small of her back as he led her up the stairs. She had her own room in the house, but it had been untouched for years. The door remained partially open, revealing the pink and the soft toys that covered the room. It was a child's room, one she'd never felt safe in.
Her fathers office was at the very end of the hall. Charles knocked for her. He stood with his hands behind his back as they waited to be welcomed in.
As soon as Dupont called, Charles pushed open the door and let Bunny in. She pulled her skirts down as she approached her fathers desk.
"Hello, Darling," said Dupont. He stood from his desk and walked around to her, bringing Bunny into his arms. "How have you been?" He asked and kissed the top of her head.
Bunny stood, stiff as a board as her father returned to his chair. She didn't have much to say to her father; their relationship hadn't remained the same after Louis died. It had only gotten worse. "Listen, Bunny." For some unexplainable reason, she hated hearing her father call her that. "We have been invited to the Netherlands and I want you there with me."
"Mr Du-"
But Dupont fixed Charles with a look, one that had him falling silent.
"Papa," Bunny said as she stepped up to the desk. "I've never gone on a job before. Why do you want me?" She asked. "Why not take mom?"
Dupont let out a laugh, a mocking one that had Bunny's blood boiling. She hated it here. "Your mother used to be cut out for things like this, Bun, but not anymore. If I want to put my best foot forward, I have to bring my prettiest girl."
She couldn't stop the feeling of the bile rising. "Can Cha come with?" She asked as she reached her hand towards Charles.
A frown covered her fathers face. "Cha?" He asked. But then he saw the way she grabbed Charles arm. "No, Darling. Charles cannot come with us."
With her hands on her knees, she leaned over and threw up.
right so i've just discovered all of my tags on the last part didn't fucking work and i'm so mad about it
Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @minseok-smaus @formulaal @hiireadstuff @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @andydrysdalerogers @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo @darleneslane @not-nyasa
Series taglist (CLOSED): @doofensmirtzevil-inc @styl1shl1v @dreamsarebig @bokutos-babyowl @minmira95 @booksandflowrs @spookystitchery @purplephantomwolf @minchedchilli @starssfall @mellowarcadefun @the-ghost-lovwr @solidalibi @graydahlia21 @st4rshine @iloveyou3000morgan @vicurious28 @evie-119 @bigratbitchsworld @closestthingtocoffee @maximofflove @sillygoose5 @purplephantomwolf @thehufflepuffavenger1 @thatsusbitch @annispamz
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idlesuperstar · 5 months
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The My-Eyeballs-Are-So-Happy Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy Bluray Watch
Episode 5: Tinker Tailor
- You don't break exactly, you just run out of stories to tell.
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forcedhesitation · 11 days
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tonight. I complete the balding gay boyfriend collection. I will right the wrong to which I was made to bear witness to. I've three of four men romanced already. all that remains is kissing that sad little wizard...and moonrise towers is just on the horizon.
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nullcanary · 1 year
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"Now all my other gods are dead. Hallelujah, to the apocalypse in my head!"
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#just finished my first playthrough#what a wild journey this has been#this game has given so much enrichment to my life#this game pulled me out of the deepest depression ive ever been in#and then momentarily put me back in one after the malenia fight because reptile brain was like youve been running from a tiger for 4 hours#my stress response was so on edge for a week yall#but thats a different story lets not digress#I'm making art again... i literally thought i lost that spark#im WRITING again?!?? a FEW things too?!? yall whats in this elden juice?!#i finally have an oc of my own to cherish#ive connected with talented inspiring and clever creators of various forms of fanworks#truly the game just turned a light on inside me again that said 'youre allowed to feel again'#it just happened to be the correct combination of so many nuances that mattered to me already and them dialed them up to 10#the astel fight was my absolute favorite#when i watched the trailer it was what captured my eye the most#when going through armor sets i saw the Preceptor's set and thought 'holy sh!t thats my aesthetic'#and now i have an irl version of it that i made with my own hands#ive never had the opportunity to be obsessed with a single character before and thats so weird to only realise after succumbing to varrérot#truly either reigniting interest in old joys or discovering completely new experiences#oh yeah and lastly im so flippin into IAMX now hes almost all ive listened to since the year began and thats also because of varrérot#tag rant over#elden ring#i have very normal feelings about frenzied flame#lord of frenzied flame ending ie third impact lmao#iamx stalker lyrics in header
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neil-gaiman · 9 months
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Hello!!
First of all, THANK YOU!!! The world has been feeling harder and more hopeless to me in recent years, and individuals like yourself help more than I will ever be able to express to bring light and hope back into my world. Loving and obsessing over gems like Good Omens, and American Gods (the novel at least, I must admit I never saw the show 🙈) have always given me motivation, sparked my creativity, and made me feel so much love for this, often unfortunately cruel, world. I can't express the solace it brings to me when the creators of the things I love are thoughtful and decent human beings. So, again, THANK YOU 🫀🫀🫀
I just finished my second viewing of Season 2 and have a question for you (my apologies if it has already been asked and/or answered and I missed it)!! 
How did you select the song "Everyday" by Buddy Holly? It is absolutely perfect on so many different levels, and for so many different threads and characters, all while still encompassing the perfect feelings of this show. I always include playlists with the stories I write, and often agonize over which song is the best choice for certain moments. You had to pick one song to encompass the entirety of it, and it truly blew me away! 
Thank you this Season and for everything you do; it really does mean the world to so many of us 🫀🫀🫀
In February of 1991 (I think) Terry Pratchett and I were staying in the Chateau Marmont hotel in LA. These days it is a very fancy hotel but back then it was pretty manky and run down. We were being put up by a film company and each morning we would fax over an outline for a new version of Good Omens the Movie and each afternoon we'd go to the studio for a meeting and we would realise that nobody had actually read what we had sent over that morning. Then we would go back to the hotel and work on trying to incorporate the studio notes on the outline they hadn't actually read into what we were doing.
We worked up in Terry's room because it had heating, and it was incredibly cold in LA that February, especially cold because I was in a chalet out in the grounds and there weren't heaters or extra blankets or anything in the chalet.
And at some point in there we were talking about music, and I suggested a few scary and ominous songs that might work to signal the end times. And Terry said "What about Buddy Holly's song Everyday? It sounds so upbeat and cheerful. But what if it was about the end of the world?" And I got all excited at the idea of Everyday being the Good Omens theme song.
So it's really just there to make Terry happy.
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enhafilthandfiction · 2 months
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ok hear me out (yall have a bet) imagine mutual masturbation with jake, but the one that cums first has to give the other a head.. regardless of the winner j@ke ends up eating you out
Dumb Games - Jake Sim
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A/N : Hello everybodyy I. am. back. (after being dead for like 345 months). Anyways, just wanted to say that I missed you all sm! <3 I hope you are all doing well and ready to enjoy reading this fic! Anon tysm this is such a good idea oml esp with bff!Jake 🤭
Pairing : Bff!Roomie!Jake X Fem!Reader
Warnings : Kinda pervy and desperate Jake, mutual masturbation, oral (f.rec), dirty talk (bc cmon it's Jake), panty smelling (sry), some fingering and I think that's it :))
Word Count : 1,268 Words
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It was a normal day for you, laying in bed, reading, scrolling through Pinterest, studying, until-
"Y/n? What is thisss?" your roommate's tone which echoed through the corridor told you he was up to some mischief. You lift your head up curiously as he stumbles into your room, your expression quickly changing when you notice what he's holding. "Jake!" you yelp, rolling out of bed to chase after him.
"I didn't know you owned a pink dildo" he lets out amazed, looking back at your tired figure which was still running after him. He giggles and escapes to the living room, settling on the couch as you follow.
"Oh and it vibrates too!" he exclaims in awe.
"Yeah, now give it back" you breathe, trying to catch your breath.
"Nah, come get it" he lifts his arms up and you scurry to get your personal object back, climbing on his sitting figure as you reach for it, but his arms were too damn long.
"Jake, please, just give it back" you sigh, giving up. You don't even realise you're pretty much straddling him in the position you're at until you feel his other hand on your arm.
"How about we make a deal?" he asks, a playful smirk on his face. "last person to make themselves cum wins"
You deadpan at him "Are you kidding?" you ask in a simple tone.
"Nope, and the loser has to finish the other off" he adds, looking at you hopefully. "Plus I'll give you this back so you can use it in the meantime" he shakes the pink object in his hands, flicking his brows up and down.
You've always kinda liked Jake, he was funny and unserious and just your type. But he was also the person you pretty much grew up with. You were scared to lose such a friendship so you never actually made a move. This was your chance.
You roll your eyes in faux annoyance "Fine. You're gonna be the one cumming too quick anyways. We'll see how good you can give head." you shrug, giving him a pretty smile "Now give me my damn dildo back"
He laughs and places the plastic dick in your waiting hand, before looking up at you, smoothing his hands down your sides. You looked so pretty like this on him, he couldn't wait to see you pleasuring yourself.
You get off him too soon, finding your place at the other end of the big couch, spreading your legs as you snake a hands between them. "Fuck" he curses under his breath, his already-hardened cock twitching in his uncomfortable pants.
He also leans back on the opposite end of the couch, quickly untying the stings of his sweats and sliding them down impatiently along with his briefs. His cock springs out, the angry red tip already leaking precum.
You bite your lips at the sight of him, wondering how he'd feel inside you. One thing's for sure; that pink plastic dick wasn't half as good.
You get comfortable, rubbing your clit through you shorts. "Show me that pussy" he instructs, slowly stroking his shaft. You blush red, smiling at his impatience. Nevertheless, you lift your hips up and slide the shorts down along with your panties which you knew were soaked.
Jake didn't hesitate to grab the black material, bringing it to his nose and inhaling deeply. You roll your eyes and sigh at his pervy behaviour. "Jakeee" you whine "That's dirty"
He doesn't seem to care, groaning at your smell and at the sight of you. "Fuck you're glistening" he points out, licking his lips as he speeds up his pace a little. #
You spread your juice around, circling your hole, closing your eyes at the tingling sensation. His lips almost start to draw blood at the way he's biting them, his hand going up and down his cock quicker.
He can't help the way his eyes are fixated on you, watching your expressions and your fingers touching yourself. He knows he's gonna lose the second you put a finger inside yourself, squeezing his base to calm himself down.
You open your eyes to stare at his, as if in a challenging manner, the sounds of your gushing juices fills the room, his curious eyes looking at where you finger yourself.
"Close Jakey?" you ask in a breathy voice which goes straight to his dick.
He breathes in "N-no" he lets out, his shaky voice betraying him. He can't help himself though. You want him to lose, adding another finger to your tight hole and moaning out loud.
He's done for when you purposely moan out his name, sending him into a frenzy, his eyes roll to the back of his head and before he knows it, his hands are drenched in cum.
You sigh at him "I didn't even get to use my dildo" you faux pout when he slowly opens his eyes, recovering from his orgasm.
"You won't need it" he mutters, getting off the couch and making his way to you. He grabs your thighs and positions you so that you're sitting comfortably on the couch. He doesn't waste a second to sink down on his knees, spreading your legs as he takes you in.
"So fucking hot" he whispers under his breath. He's been waiting to taste you for so long. Smelling your panties just made him more impatient. You nod at him when he looks up at you from between your legs and he dives in.
He flattens his tongue and licks up your folds in one go, immediately humming at your taste. He laps up your juices, swirling his tongue around your hole before slightly prodding it in just to tease you. His licks his way up you clit, kitten-licking the little nub sending tingles up your spine.
"Fuck Jake" you breathe out, subconsciously grasping his hair between your fingers. You push his head deeper into you, encouraging him to suck at your clit. He hums at the little tugs on his hair, the pleasurable sting going to his dick.
He licks back to you hole, his nose bumping against your clit, making you whine out. You can't help but close your thighs around his head, engulfing him into you. He brings his hands up to your thighs, keeping them open before he brings one hand to your hole.
You feel like you're going to explode with his finger prodding at your hole and his tongue on your clit, the stimulation becoming too much. "Fuck, fuck r-right there" you moan out, pulling at his hair to ground yourself.
The way he hums against your folds doesn't help, your hips twitching at the feeling. He starts finger fucking you at a quicker pace, his mouth still working on your clit. All it takes is one last suck on your sensitive clit before your squeezing around his finger and tipping your head back in pleasure.
He eagerly licks up your essence before you push his head away due to overstimulation. You catch your breath as he sits up and settles on the couch next to you.
"Hate to admit it but that was one of your best ideas, Sim" you chuckle out, still in a haze.
"I never come up with bad ideas dumbass" he replies, also chilling back into the couch, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder.
"We should play this dumb game again sometime" you suggest, trying to place a hint.
"Damn you liked it that much didn't you?" he asked giggling
"It's always nice seeing you lose your own game"
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Hi again, thankyou for reading to the end :D I hope you enjoyed it !! Have a good day/night and remember that ily! <333
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hedgehog-moss · 2 months
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Ant lovers, this is not the post for you, I'm sorry.
I have a big anthill in the worst location, between my house and the greenhouse, so that the ants are invading me on two different fronts! Over the past two months or so I've tried a lot of methods to make the ants feel unwelcome, from the humane Earth Mother approach to more aggressive ones, but nothing worked. Flooding them with water. Then boiling water. Dish soap. Vinegar. Diatomaceous earth, which usually solves just about every problem. The ants did not care. I tried asking, then suggesting, then bargaining, then insisting, then threatening, then
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Sorry, ants. You should have taken my threats seriously.
I meant to wait until everything was fully consumed before extinguishing the fire, but then I realised I was out of dog food (when you buy one of these 20kg bags of kibble you always feel like it'll never run out and then it does in the most unexpected and untimely manner, every time). I had time to pop by the store before it closed, and by this point the fire was just a few embers left at the bottom of the tragic moon crater that used to be a magnificent ant palace. You can see my chickens keeping an eye on it from above:
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I fully trust my chickens but still, before I left I went to tell the carpenter working in my barn today that I've been burning an anthill, the fire is almost out but could he glance out the window every now and then while I'm in town, and maybe go and throw a bucket of water if he sees my house engulfed in flames? I'm just going on a quick, half-hour errand.
He agreed, so I left.
I ran into the librarian at the grocery shop, who of course invited me over for a cup of tea. It's genuinely impossible to say no to such offers—I mean, you say no and then you end up at the librarian's house having tea anyway. You'd think the possibility of my house and llamas going up in flames if I don't go home to monitor the embers would be a foolproof excuse to get out of a tea invitation, but there are no excuses. The librarian wanted me to taste the giant cookie she baked and she wanted to talk about something stupid our president said or did recently and I had no choice but to follow her.
But it's okay, the carpenter and the hens are on top of the situation!
Still, I felt antsy (sorry) as I sat in the librarian's kitchen and watched her feed Pandolf cookie crumbs. (She had some crumbs set aside for her own dog, but her dog is tiny and scared of Pandolf so she remained at the other end of the kitchen, intensely interested in the unattainable cookie crumbs, mentally willing Pandolf to disappear from her kitchen, vibrating with despair, the picture of anguish.)
I tried to use Pandolf as a pretext to cut my visit short, but I had zero cooperation from my traitor dog. "We've been gone a while, he probably needs to pee!"
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The librarian asked me about the carpentry stuff going on in my barn right now and I didn't want to start a whole new conversation which would inevitably lead to half a dozen anecdotes about construction work, when I'd already had such trouble wrapping up the let's-trash-talk-Macron conversation (it's not that I don't want to trash talk Macron. But my house was burning, maybe.)
I tried to point out again that my house was probably ashes by now and the librarian said serenely, "Well, your carpenter will feel obligated to hurry up and finish the job much faster if you have no house anymore and must move into the barn."
I agreed that there's an upside to everything, but still. I had to go.
Just as I was leaving the librarian's house, I saw the carpenter's car entering town. I waved at him and he stopped and opened the window and told me everything was going well, and I said, "And the fire? It must be out by now."
"What fire?"
He had absolutely not checked the fire. (He was standing next to a noisy machine when I made my request so it's possible he didn't hear me well and figured I was checking on his work and just went "Yeah, all good!") (I'm trying to be fair)
And yes, okay, it was just a few embers at the bottom of a pit with heavy, wet winter earth all around, but I'm a pessimist so I threw Pandolf into my car and drove home at full speed. For some reason what I pictured during this quick, worried drive home was ant payback. A long line of determined ants stretching from their ravaged anthill to my house, each one of them carrying a tiny burning twig. I don't think two chickens would be enough to suppress that.
When I reached my dirt road, I couldn't see my house from afar but could see a plume of smoke in the middle of the woods. It looked pretty small, but still, I was relieved when I got closer and found that the smoke rose from the exact location of the anthill and nowhere else.
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I'd taken precautions, like wetting the earth around the pit and choosing a day when some rain was expected in the evening, but a lot of forces conspired to ensure the embers were left unattended, from a forgetful (or confused) carpenter to Pandolf's love of cookie crumbs and the librarian's inescapable friendliness. (She whatsapped me to ask if my house was on fire and I said (jokingly) no, but no thanks to you!! And she was a bit contrite and said, it's Macron :( we spent too long on this topic... And I said no I know, of course I blame Macron and she sent me a handshake emoji)
The ants were not in an avenging mood btw, they were teeming around the crater looking quite defeated, it made me sad. (But I hope they're defeated.) I didn't throw my bucket of water over it straight away because I was a bit fascinated by the inside of the anthill, from up close it looked like the Mines of Moria.
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I crouched down next to the ants and we wordlessly watched the last embers slowly die as night fell over the pasture. It was very atmospheric until Pirlouit started braying with absolute fury because it was almost dark and his evening hay was still nowhere to be seen.
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izjeon · 6 months
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GONEGIRL.
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athlete!jungkook x f!reader
𖥻 genre: s2l (strangers to lovers?), fwb (friends with benefits), pwp, and university au.
𖥻 rating: 18+
𖥻 word count: 3.2k
𖥻 warnings: [MINORS DNI] afab/f!reader, heavy infatuation, they basically stalk each other, a lot of sexual tension, smut is literally the plot, many mentions of wet dreams, debatable infidelity, reader has debatable morals, jungkook & reader are horny, switch!jk (but he does most of the dominating) and switch!reader, a lot of making-out, hickeys (f.receiving), reader lowkey has a praise kink, hair pulling (m.receiving), jungkook whimpers, extra beefy jungkook, dry humping… and they get caught.
a/n: this is not proofread, but why is standing next to you such a bop?? helped me finish this after months of it being stuck in the drafts. also, to whoever told me to stay in the basement, i couldn’t stick to my word, pookie 😔. enjoy!
series masterlist: GONEGIRL
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chapter one - ‘slowburn?’
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
you knew who he was.
jeon jungkook: the senior that all the freshmen drooled for and the senior that all the seniors wanted to themselves. as a senior yourself, you couldn’t say he didn’t intrigue you. he was a sporty guy, winning national and global championships in track and wrestling for fun on the side. obviously, his matches were the most popular in viewership across the university. the golden boy, he never once failed to add another gold medal to your university’s esteemed profile.
so, you knew who he was, but you couldn’t understand why his eyes were stuck on you and only you.
you’d first met him at a party held by one of his close friends, namjoon. you were introduced briefly and didn’t exchange any numbers or socials. but, that following morning, jngkk_97 followed you on instagram. and, from that day on, he was the first guy to like your posts, the first guy to view your stories and the first guy you knew of to not slide into your dms.
with his intriguing, yet unexpectedly distant, behaviour, he found his way into your mind— 24/7. so, every morning, you awoke, gaslighting yourself into believing that the thought of his pink, pouty lips on yours didn't actually send you into a midlife crisis. they just made you a little faint.
every single night, you tucked your fragile mind into bed, losing yourself in hazy dreams branded by the thought of jungkook's touch. but, after a few weeks of contactless flirting, you let the idea of him go.
because you’d been told he had a girlfriend.
although it usually took a lot to do so, you felt the cowardly urge to give up on your infatuation. it'd been more than 2 weeks of mutual stalking but, still, no message. you guessed, he just wasn't as desperate for you as you were for him.
and you didn't like that. so you quit your daily routine of streaming his instagram and greedily watched as he kept up his own stalkish routine, consecutively failing to direct his focus back onto his girlfriend.
the same gorgeous girlfriend sitting with him on a black and cushy beanbag, radiating as she spoke to the other students around them. and that's when you realised, not having each other's undivided attention must've been a thing in their relationship.
because, his doe eyes of false innocence were only on you.
it was the first time you were seeing each other in person after namjoon’s party.
you stared back at jungkook through the wide, unglazed window in the separating wall between the kitchen and the living room. even with his supposed girlfriend of 5 months on his lap, running her fingers through his hair, his eyes were only on you. you scoffed, chuckling to yourself.
he would be fun.
leaning back on the kitchen counter of jennie’s apartment, you tilted your head to the side. intrigued, you watched as he did the same, copying your actions with a lopsided grin. now, you didn’t have the best eyesight but you weren’t so blind that you couldn’t tell that he was clearly hinting at something. something that would land you in a very taboo situation.
and you loved that.
you lifted your plastic cup to your lips and turned away from the athlete sitting at the other end of the room. you downed your drink as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room. you looked around for your best friend and there she was, face deep in boobs.
as you made your way to the couch she was sprawled on, you realised the athlete had disappeared from his girlfriend’s side. curious of where he’d disappeared to, your eyes ran across the packed apartment, desperate for the sight of him.
and there it was, the something.
he was standing near the front door and his girlfriend had gone to sit with other seniors. it looked like he was exchanging goodbyes with his friends.
he was leaving— without his girlfriend.
“jennie, i think i’m going,” you mindlessly whispered, eyes stuck on the 5’10" hottie with his foot out the door and doe eyes drifting back across the crowded room. then his eyes were on yours again: a silent exchange of words.
“already…?” a drunk jennie whined, lifting her face from the deep cleavage of her girlfriend. “wait,” she mumbled, eyebrows scrunching into a sobering expression, and squinted her eyes at your side profile. “you think?”
satisfied with your decided future, you turned back to your best friend with your lips curling into a sly grin. “no, i know.”
she lazily propped herself up on her girlfriend and whined, “but how’re you gonna get home~?”
the front door slammed shut.
“i’ll find a ride.”
𖥻 GONEGIRL
jungkook picked at the zip of his thin bomber coat. he was leaning against his black benz, waiting.
ever since he first laid his eyes on you in that little backless, black dress, jungkook knew you were trouble. you were a distraction; more distracting than the pending termination of his current relationship; and much more distracting than the thought of joining the national track team again. you were a parasite living in his mind.
he practically breathed you. when he woke, you were his first thought. when he felt compelled to open instagram, you were there. even when he would try to escape you in his sleep, you were there. he could barely last ten seconds sinking into the thought of you. if you let him sink into the reality of you, jungkook would cease to exist.
jungkook groaned, throwing back his head. he thought he would be fine and perfectly content with your instagram and your daily occurrence in his dreams (sexual or not), but you just had to show up at this party— held by your best friend. how was he supposed to know you guys were best friends? now he was actually waiting for the real you and he could feel himself going mad. he wasn’t sure he could keep his hands to himself and he could already feel the consequences of his future actions creeping up on him—
“who bought that for you?”
his ears twitched.
his heart lunged and his eyes found yours in an instant. but jungkook’s always had a wandering eye.
his eyes almost instantly fell to your body, trailing over your exposed cleavage in your white dress, and then dropping to the high slit on your left thigh, almost exposing your crotch. you were some type of angel for sure.
he was fucked.
jungkook was fucked the moment he met you; the moment he spent over an hour scrolling through countless instagram accounts to find yours; the moment he couldn’t dream of his own future without you showing up; and the moment he began to pray you showed up in his dreams every night before bed.
he was fucked because he feared once he had a hold on you, he would never be able to let go.
a man’s logic.
“my dad,” jungkook finally replied, pulling himself together. “he decided i needed a car— because i run 24/7. and there definitely cannot be a cheaper and better car than a mercedes benz.”
his sarcastic tone made you smile.
“that’s cute,” you smiled.
it went silent.
“do you need a ride?”
“don’t you have a girlfriend?” you rebutted with a smirk. truthfully, part of you didn’t care about his answer. you were an addict in front of a line of coke. you would get what you wanted one way or another.
“ha,” he chuckled, lowering his head in what you thought was shame. your question put jungkook on the spot. and you knew cheaters never worked well when put on the spot. but jungkook looked up with a wincing smile and corrected you, “she’s not my girlfriend.”
oh.
“we’re… complicated.”
now, jungkook wasn’t sure that choyeon would’ve given you the same answer. they weren’t together, but she acted as if they were. and he didn’t make much of an effort to correct her. so, he guessed he was still guilty. but he only felt guilty to a certain extent. he’d already chosen feeling guilty about hurting choyeon rather than missing an opportunity to get what he dreamed of.
what he fucking craved.
the sound of your heels getting closer to him kissed jungkook out of his thoughts. oh, you seduced him: the feeling of your manicured fingers gently grabbing hold of his chin and slowly lowering his clouded eyes to yours.
you whispered, “how complicated?”
jungkook held his breath for a second or two. how complicated were they? well, he knew they were complicated enough for him to forget about her in your presence and only remember her when you asked him to. however, they weren’t complicated enough for them to not be in some sort of a relationship.
but he decided it didn’t matter. when it came to you, she didn’t matter. he realised how beautiful your eyes looked under the moonlight. they glistened with the false innocence jungkook knew would ruin him. after all the nights of imagined panting, moaning and fucking and mornings of bitter reality, post-clarity and cum-stained sheets, jungkook burned for your touch.
fuck, he could almost taste you.
as if you could read his thoughts, your awaiting finger finally fell onto the his plump bottom lip, sweetly kissing the man out of his stupor. your eyes left his and fell to where your finger slowly traced across jungkook’s soft, pink receipt of kisses.
that’s when his lips parted, and he whispered, “as complicated as you want.”
at his answer, your distracted eyes flickered back up to his awaiting, hooded eyes. that’s when you, too, realised how dangerous your infatuation had gotten. just the sight of those buttered chestnut eyes and the intoxicating feel of his slow exhales on your skin forced you into a reality where you lacked even the smallest control over your own body. but, even more dangerous, was how little you cared about the way you drowned in his presence. but then again, you never did learn how to swim.
you smiled, letting your hands fall back to your sides.
“i’ll take that ride.”
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
the ride back to yours was almost silent, only filled with random whispers of directions coming from jungkook’s gps system. the voiced map directed him to your address and, yet, everything else pointed his eyes to you.
jungkook took a glance at you. he watched you; he watched you with your elbow propped up onto the rolled-down window, relaxed upper body peeking out into seoul’s night. he saw how you leaned further into the wind licking at your cheeks when he pressed on the gas, a hint of a smile wavering across your partially hidden face. he watched you in the silence, accepting his loud need— his loud need for you.
and he didn’t even know you. but jungkook couldn’t seem to find the rational sense to care. he knew you were a ‘stranger’ but, fuck, you’d overwhelmed his entire existence. you had damned him to the crucifying point where he actually felt the need to breathe you— to accept every single inch of you into his being— and he had no idea why. even as he glanced in your direction for the hundredth time, he couldn’t dare try to understand how you’d done this to him.
once again, as if you could read his thoughts, your head turned, lost eyes running over the lavender lights in the car. and like a key, your wandering eyes pierced his and locked his gaze onto yours.
“you’ve arrived at your destination,” the gps announced, breaking the exchanged glance. jungkook turned back to the road, and you turned back to seoul’s night.
“mm, just here,” you hummed, pointing to an empty parking spot in front of the tall apartment complex. maybe it was just human curiosity, but you found yourself mesmerised by the way he smoothly slotted the benz into the empty space.
fuck, everything he did was hot.
the sound of the engine’s hum softening into a quiet mew reminded jungkook of the anticipation clawing at his skin. it clouded his senses. but when his eyes flitted back onto you, yours were already on his.
he watched your lips part, and stilled as your next whisper left a trail of wet kisses across his mind.
“come up with me.”
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𖥻 GONEGIRL
“thanks,” you started, slotting your key into auburn door’s lock. turning to catch a glimpse of jungkook’s dewy eyes behind his black locks, you smiled and continued, “for the ride.”
jungkook’s lips quirked into the same lopsided grin from earlier. “you’re welcome,” he replied.
it was silent again.
with those hidden eyes still on yours, jungkook’s tongue slipped past his lips, running over his bottom lips. your gaze dropped to the pink tongue flitting across those pink, pillowy lips of his, and you sunk. those lips forced you into a familiar daydream where all that mattered was letting your tongue glide across his bottom lip until you slipped in, fucking his tongue with yours— tasting jungkook.
you needed a taste.
you glanced back up into his prolonged stare. then your hands were falling from the keys in the door, fingers smoothing across the nape of his neck and cheek, and tugging his lips down to yours. but jungkook’s hands were already cradling your hips, touch-starved fingers pressing into your sides, as his lips met yours first.
it was a gentle yet deep peck. a peck was quick: it allowed jungkook to draw back for two crucial seconds and let his clouded vision run over your expression. alluring eyes looked up into his gaze and jungkook could finally see it: your mutual desperation, the hunger, and the torture. it was all he needed to see before his finger was tilting your chin up once more, and his lips were taking you in.
from brushing his tongue past yours to savouring the taste of alcohol on your tongue, jungkook sunk into the taste of you. but he didn’t know if he could go any longer without sinking into you. his hand left your waist cold, fingers fumbling with the keys in the door and failing miserably. “no,” you rushed, lips barely leaving his. “turn them to the right.”
after hearing the click of your stubborn door unlocking, you were all over each other again. you stumbled into your apartment, hand quickly muddling with the light switch, with jungkook hurrying after you, tossing your keys and his suffocating jacket aside.
his daring fingers smoothed over your ass, kneading the soft, clothed skin, before lifting you to his hips. a deep hum of approval rumbled against your lips as your legs wrapped around him. but, in this position, your little dress had ridden up, exposing a white thong snug to your weeping slit. and who on earth would jungkook be if he didn’t cop a feel?
lifting you up once more to adjust his arm, the tips of jungkook’s fingers slipped under the white lace, fingers grazing across your supple ass. feeling his fingers inch closer to your needy cunt, your breath hitched and the dull stir in your core began to hum, itching for more than a simple touch.
and, as if he could read your mind, your breath was forced from you, head falling onto the lush cushions on your sofa. wafts of mint invading your senses, your hazy eyes took in how beautiful jungkook looked above you— like it was where he was meant to be. and he realised the same, the apartment’s warm and amber lights cascading through his locks and clouding the irises of your tempting eyes.
in that still second, both you and jungkook came to a silent agreement. your dreams couldn’t compare to reality.
“you’re so beautiful,” he whispered.
you blinked. you knew you were beautiful— of course— but hearing the phrase trickle out of jungkook’s pretty mouth felt…different. your eyes followed his as his gaze fluttered across your face, brows furrowing as if he were in awe.
“kiss me,” you begged, and he obeyed.
greedy, jungkook’s kisses were everywhere— on your swollen lips, before tumbling down your jaw to the middle of your neck, littering a trail of bruising hickeys. and you couldn’t do anything but moan, whimper, and sink into his sweet touch.
“oh, fuck,” you whined, head tilting back into the plush sofa. your fingers pushed through the thick rift of hair at the nape of his neck, tugging on it. but you never would’ve expected such a pathetic moan to leave his throat, rumbling into the sweet spot right above your collarbone. you paused. his moan echoed in your mind— a repeating succulent sound. so, you tugged a little harder, relishing in how he muffled a guttural whimper into the base of your neck, “mmf, fuck”. but then his hips began to move against yours, revengeful, and you realised how fucked you were— and would be.
jungkook had a bulge that made you wonder; wonder how he crammed that shit into his boxers; wonder how he lived a seemingly normal life with it; and wonder how he would struggle to cram that cock into your sopping mess of a cunt. so, as he ground down against your erect clit, your hips bucked up into his fucking, eager to measure the sheer size of the hidden dick. “oh, please,” you whined, thoughts stained by the way he licked a hot stripe across your ear’s helix, boner perfectly smushing down against your clit.
bruising lips barely touching yours, half-lidded eyes cruelly watched as you rode up into his clothed cock and stuttered moans so pathetic your cheeks burned, glazed eyes brimming with tears. he was already fucking you so good, and he hadn’t even touched your bare pussy yet.
oh, jungkook ruined you. with a hand trailing down your heated sides, he sent your body into a rabid heat, his touch only licking the wet flame ruining your ability to think. and when his hand finally cupped your leaking cunt, thumb circling over your pulsing clit, you were already begging pitiful whimpers. “please, please, please—”
“___?”
your bodies stilled.
a voice that was not yours or jungkook’s echoed throughout the apartment, piercing the thick haze that’d swallowed your minds whole. you blinked, stare slowly lowering to jungkook’s stunned stare that was already on you. his doe eyes wrinkled into a smile as his lips pursed into an awkward grin. the cringe was evident on his face; he was a grown adult getting caught with his hand deep in the cookie jar.
jungkook’s head slowly raised and turned, peeking over the sofa to see your intruder and his cockblock. then he froze. still hidden from the eyes of your cockblock, you eyed his expression, confused on why remained still, eyes wide, lips pursed and ears burning red.
who was it?
begrudgingly, you shuffled out of jungkook’s caging arms, propping yourself up on your elbows, and looked over the sofa, ready to kick out your cockblocking neighbour. but who you saw wasn’t an unfortunate neighbour you could just dismiss. in fact, the person you saw made you the unfortunate neighbour because there your best friend stood, mouth agape and only a foot into the apartment.
“oh, fuck. well, um. oh wow,” jennie blubbered, feet awkwardly wobbling over the door’s threshold. now, drunk jennie didn’t have the best memory but she could’ve sworn she’d warned you about jungkook’s relationship status. so, as you watched the cogs turn in her head, her brows furrow and her eyes squint, darting between the both of you, all you could do was blink and smile.
“…what the fuck?”
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gg: ‘slowburn?’ - fini
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2K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 5 months
Note
hii!! can you do 49 and 68 please??? i love ur writing so much btw
prompts: #49 - "I'm so fucking obsessed with you." #68 - "Sit on my face."
A/N: Thank you for much for requesting! Munch Spencer for the win once again! Not to sound like a broken record, but I think I'm physically incapable of writing a smut that I dont somehow become obsessive over 🫡 I hope you like it!!
Warnings: possessive Spencer, oral sex (f receiving), multiple orgasms, alight come play, penetrative sex, creampie, just some very obsessive writing ngl. 18+ MINORS DNI (that means do not interact for those of you who still don't understand!!)
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You weren't sure if you were going to give into him.
You know it'd taken a lot of courage for the man to ask you out, you'd seen first hand that he threw himself head first into relationships, and that meant he was entirely careful about kindling them.
But you'd been so shocked by Spencer Reid's admission that he was romantically interested in you that you'd all but gaped at him the entire time he stood there talking you through it.
After he'd finished, you still didn't know what to say, you just knew that your entire body was aflame with the words he'd dropped in the space between you, and you were vaguely aware that your phone had clattered to the floor, forgotten.
“Y/N, what do you say? Will you let me take you on a date? Please?”
He stood fidgeting in front of you and you almost apologised but your tongue still wouldn't move accurately.
You swallowed, and calmed your heart from the tempest it was running through in your chest to answer him.
“I need some time to think. We work together, it's going to be complicated and I want to make sure I think this through.” He'd politely agreed to that and seen himself out of your apartment, having appeared on your doorstep at near midnight on a work night.
And two weeks later, you were no closer to your answer.
But Spencer seemed to have grown bolder in his advances. He seemed to have taken your entire plight of never realising he was into you to heart, though. Because you sure as hell knew where he stood now.
He used every excuse to put his hands on you.
He came up behind you, putting his hands on your waist as he slid past you, moving you this way and that to arrive at his intended destination.
You'd found that a most annoying male trait in the past, but when Spencer attempted it, you practically leaned into his heat, shivering each time his hands brushed you.
He'd taken to brushing your hair out of your eyes as well, tucking it behind your ear in front of others, and, embarrassingly enough, tying it up for you with one of his own hair elastics.
You'd frozen in the moment as you leaned down to examine some footprints on a case, complaining your hair was in your face as he immediately came up behind you and began gently pulling it up himself.
His fingers moved skillfully, and felt soothing on your scalp as he made sure to get every hair.
You couldn't even say a word of thanks as you sat there wondering what the fuck had just happened, and if anyone else had been witness to it.
Luckily, no one had, and you could only contemplate it alone.
And contemplate it you did. In bed. In the shower. In your sleep. You couldn't stop contemplating it.
You couldn't seem to step over the boundary of professional working relationship to more, though.
So you weren't exactly surprised when he showed back up on your doorstep a month later.
“Spencer. Did something happen?” you breathed a slow sigh as you opened the door to see him standing there, still and tense, as if he was ready to spring an attack at any second.
“I'm obsessed with you.” His voice was low as he took a slow step forward, letting his gaze rest on your lips, and not moving it as he continued his path forward.
“I'm obsessed with you and I've tried to show you that for the last month, and god, please you have to please release me from this if you can't accept it.” He took another step closer and then he was in your apartment and closing the door behind him, blocking out the cold that had your nipples hardening. You assumed it was the cold.
“I think about how you would taste daily, how you would smell, how you would feel wrapped around me, the sounds you would make. I think about any other man getting close to you and I feel angry and sad and my chest physically aches.”
“I think about how I could make you happy, how you'd smile at me every morning,” his hand hesitantly reached up to tuck another stray hair behind your ear as he stuttered through yet another confession.
He was close now, so close your back was pressed against a wall as you resisted your chest meeting his.
“I will leave and never mention this or touch you again if you can't take that on, but if even one part of you thinks this is an experience you want…”
You finally looked into his eyes as your fingertips rushed forward to touch him, darting out to feel his chest and press yourself further into his warmth.
The physical confirmation must have been enough, as in moments his lips were dropping to meet your own in a sweet, but still strong kiss.
He moved achingly slowly as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you further in to his atmosphere, taking each small caress as an indulgence, each run of your lips across his as a blessing coated in lust.
He went so luxuriously slow, that you had to be the one to pull him in closer, to give into the passion threatening to throttle you from inside out.
You tugged him back through your apartment to your bed, making sure to rid him of his coat as you went, lips still exploring each other as you did. His hands held you firmly, wrapping you up in a strong embrace even as you needed him to move faster, to touch, caress, tease, and pleasure you.
You pushed him away when your back hit another wall, only so you could get some air between you as you waited for the next logical step in the direction you were headed.
“Spencer, I want you to make love to me.” You always hated that phrase, feeling it was so cheesy and overly sentimental, and yet that was the only way you could describe what you wanted from him.
He looked at you and suddenly, it was as if a flip had switched inside him. His slow, discovering kisses became bruising and hot as he marked his way down your neck, eager to please and desperate to know all of you. Your body was another book Spencer needed to read, more knowledge for him to acquire and never forget, never let go of.
Gently raising you off the ground, he pinned you against the wall, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his notable arousal through his clothes. He began divesting you of yours, the casual t-shirt you'd slipped into after work being easy work for his hands, sweatpants following suit as he memorised every inch of flesh visible to him.
With two hands firmly cradling your ass, he made his way into your bedroom, and sat on the edge of the bed, you in hand. Your core rubbed over his cock, and a deep dissatisfaction crept up your body. You were empty and you wanted so badly for him to fill you.
Your need became a great force clawing at his clothes, rocking your hips into him needing as you scrambled button after button, wishing your hands would obey your mind.
He groaned under you, the sound catching you off-guard and flooding your panties even more. He caught your hips and steadied your pace as you worked yourself up to a high without ever having fully touched him.
“Y/N…” He breathed it out like a prayer and a curse combined, pushing your hips down tighter as he tried to put an end to your elicit movements.
“Y/N stop, I want…” His lips finally left your neck as he took a deep breath, opening his eyes to look directly into yours.
“Sit on my face.” It was a demand, one that wouldn't be ignored, and honestly, you weren't sure you wanted to ignore it.
He laid himself down more comfortably on the bed, pulling you down with him as he stroked small circles into your lower back.
His hands worked down until they reached the waistband of your panties, hooked a finger under them and slowly dragged them off your ass, forcing your hips up to get them further away from his prize.
“Please, Y/N. Please sit on my face.” You moaned at the request again, dropping one final messy kiss to his lips before climbing up and over his head.
You completed the job he started with your underwear, deciding to go the extra mile and discard your bra as well. He wrapped his hands around your thighs and shifted your cunt to better suit his own position, and you braced yourself as he pulled you closer to his devilish tongue.
The first swipe of it was so foreign that you almost bolted upright like a cat dropped into a bathtub. But he held you fast and pulled you right back down as he began his meal. He'd said his prayers, and now he was ready to indulge himself in the taste he'd been craving for the last month.
You braced your hands on the metal headboard of your bed, thankful that you lived alone as you knew there was no way of muffling the noises that were beginning to toll off your tongue.
Head thrown back in pleasure, it was all you could do to not beg him to never stop, to keep up your pleausure for eternity, even as he left himself unsatisfied and rock hard.
Everytike you pulled slightly back from the stimulation, he pulled you even further in, until you were sure he couldn't breath, his mouth and nose so lost in your heat and so intent on your pleasure.
You almost forgot it was his face below you, and started desperately riding him, grinding your clit into anything that would allow for some friction.
Every few minutes he came up for a larger breath, letting his fingers slip inside you as he explored your every reaction.
There was only so much you could take, and apparently tongue and fingers was just that step too far, as you let your body convulse over him.
He let you ride it out, drinking in every drop of juice that escaped you, finally getting that taste he'd become so obsessed with discovering.
When you finally pulled away, his lips and chin were slick with your arousal, and his face was awash with desire.
A tiny push had you on your back as he crawled up between your legs again, taking the time to unclassified his pants and pull them off, discarding them along eith the shirt you'd so painstakingly unbuttoned for him.
“I am going to make love to you, Y/N, and you are going to be mine. You'll always be mine.” His forehead rested against your own as he finally slid inside of you, sheathing his whole cock inside of you as it expanded with his intrusion, trying to find room for him.
He fit like a glove, provided the glove felt this fucking good, so warm and comforting to know he was filling you completely.
His thrusts began and you were almost overwhelmed by the sheer arousal he inspired in each heartbeat.
Wanton moans left your mouth as words failed you, tongue lolling about as you desperately wished he'd slip his head down to let you taste yourself on him.
“I love you so much, Y/N,” he said, tightening his grip on your hips so much you were sure his nails were going to leave tiny crescents carved into your very bones.
Your second orgasm snuck up on you, hips suddenly jolting up as if they'd a mind of their own, milking his cock as he whimpered at the sudden tightness.
“Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you I love you so much,” the words were overwhelming as you struggled to speak through the after shocks of your climax, legs still twitching even as he spilled his seed inside of you.
“Now you're mine,” he whispered into your ear as he again found a stray lock of your hair and tugged it right back behind your ear, as if it would help you to see him that much clearer.
Your vision was already so filled with him though, that you were sure it would not matter how far he was or how obstructed your view, he would be the only thing you saw for the rest of your life.
Maybe you were a little obsessed with him as well.
971 notes · View notes
buzz-in-your-veins · 19 days
Text
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Oops, did i do that?
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Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.
The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they don’t have outfits just let me know!
CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.
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Vox
Vox hadn’t known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. You’d applied for the job a few months ago.
In that time he’d seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldn’t do, was look at your contacts.
You weren’t working tomorrow, so you’d gone out with your friends, you’d purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasn’t owned by a member of the V’s, in an effort not to run into your new boss.
You’d gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that you’d ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.
You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the ‘send to’ people, you never noticed.
You also didn’t notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.
If only that was the worst part.
You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.
You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, you’d be fine! Your friends wouldn’t hear it.
One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.
You got back safe and sound, still not having realised you’d sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demon’s expression as Velvettes model walked you in.
You weren’t quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadn’t got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, you’d gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.
You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.
Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.
You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.
Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadn’t taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.
Satisfied you went to save your photo.
Never noticing you’d sent the same photo to your boss.
Afterall, you hadn’t know to take him off your list.
You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.
You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Vox’s name pop up on your phone.
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Angel Dust
Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said you’d recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.
Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.
Still riding the high off getting a better job, you’d invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.
You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Vox’s clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.
You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though you’d had no idea.
You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.
You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.
And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.
They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.
You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.
Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.
They quickly concocted a plan without your input.
Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.
You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didn’t you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had ‘needed the bathroom’ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.
As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didn’t mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.
Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.
The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.
Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.
You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.
In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.
For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.
Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.
Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.
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Alastor
Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.
The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.
Except..
Now he was.
Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.
But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.
So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you weren’t.
Alastor was cooking? You weren’t hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didn’t want to read anyways.
Alastor always noticed your absence.
Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.
When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his ability’s, his domain, everything.
Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didn’t stop you from having it.
From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.
And when he stopped those muggers?
You went weak.
So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.
You could still dress up though.
And you did, frequently.
In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.
Alastors eyes never left you that night.
Mostly, it was under your clothes.
Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.
Oh how you’d positively die if anyone saw.
That didn’t stop you.
Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.
You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.
Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.
Surely, you should have expected naming your folder ‘Alastor<3’ to backfire, but..
Maybe this was a Freudian slip?
It’s not like you even noticed you’d sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.
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Lucifer
You’d seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.
It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.
By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.
Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.
You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.
Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.
You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as you’d been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown you’d picked.
It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.
Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.
The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.
Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!
Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.
Traitors.
You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.
You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.
The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.
Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.
Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.
Did you mention traitors?
By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.
Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didn’t.
By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, ‘we went all blessed with long arms, A——y!’, you wanted a special photo.
So you got ready.
You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.
Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.
You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.
You never looked.
Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice you’d looked. Your response?
A photo.
You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.
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Husk
Husk hadn’t taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.
Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.
You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.
You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.
Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.
Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.
Husk never brought it up, and Angel didn’t remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didn’t want to bring it up why should you?
Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.
Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?
You were gone.
And the cat was your new home.
Not that you’d ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.
Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.
You’d dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.
Husk had seen you just before you got into Vox’s limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.
You and Angel didn’t get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.
Husk had tried to stay up.
You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.
From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.
You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.
He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.
Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.
You needed a photo.
Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.
You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.
You didn’t wake up until well after Husk responded.
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Lute.
Lute had noticed you as soon as you’d joined Adam’s ranks.
Of course she had.
You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.
She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.
That of course, was you.
Lute loved having you work with her.
Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you weren’t talking at all.
You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?
Your poor heart couldn’t deal.
You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.
Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.
Regardless you excelled.
You had to be the best.
And so you were.
Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what you’d said before.
You never gave her the same answer.
You couldn’t exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?
Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.
It meant going to fancy angel party’s. With out your mask.
You forced your friends to help you get ready.
Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.
Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.
You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didn’t know any of the people here and you were anxious.
Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldn’t settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.
Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.
Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know what’s happened.
Meanwhile, you’d striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.
You wanted a photo.
You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.
Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.
Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.
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Feedback is always appreciated <3
If you want more people added feel free to ask and I’ll do a part two!
Comments are my high.
They make me write faster.
~Vyrus
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imtryingbuck · 7 months
Text
Clingy
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~ gif not mine credit to owner ~
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky overhears his girlfriend calling him clingy
Word count: 1243
Warnings: sad Bucky and swearing
A/N: whilst editing this I realised that Alpines a girl but just for the sake of this story we’re going to pretend she’s a boy🙃
Masterlist
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Bucky had a massive smile planted on his face as he left the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend and cat; he was so proud of himself for finally mastering online shopping - he just ordered a huge cat tree for Alpine. To others it wouldn’t have been important but for him it was an accomplishment he was excited to share with his girl.
With a little bounce in his step, he was about to turn the corner to where the common room was when he comes to a stop.
“-I’m telling you Nat it’s annoying” he smiles at the voice that has soothed him to sleep more times than one “he’s so clingy, always wanting to lay on me, always following me around, trying to kiss me whilst I’m eating! It’s like he always needs to be touching me at every given moment, God he’s so needy” his heart breaks not only at the words but at how frustrated she sounds. He really didn’t mean to be clingy and needy, there was no doubt in his or anyone’s minds that he was in love with her, everyone always mocked about how he was her shadow, but he didn’t care. Being her shadow was his way of showing her that he loves her and that he was always going to be there, that no one was ever going to hurt her. 
Not having the heart to hear the rest he turns around and walk back to their shared room, determination running through his veins he was going to change. He didn’t want to lose her. The last thing he hears is Natasha laughing.
“Y/N he’s a cat! He loves you” Natasha chuckles.
“Yeah but still… it’s annoying. Because the worst part is that he only does it when Bucky isn’t there” Nat tries really hard not to laugh at the pout on the other woman’s face. It doesn’t take long for both burst out laughing.
~~~
Throughout the week Y/n notices something wrong with Bucky, it wasn’t normal for him to be out of bed before her - not anymore at least - he didn’t want to cuddle up with her anymore, the kisses were quick. It was hurting her; she was missing him even though he was close by. It wasn’t just her that noticed Bucky’s strange behaviour.
“What’s going on with you and Mr grumpy pants?” Sam asks as he hands her a fresh cup of tea.
“I don’t know Sammy, he’s been distant this past week and I don’t know what I’ve done”
“Have you guys argued?”
“No” taking careful sips of the hot beverage “the last time we argued was when I took that bullet for him and that was like what three months ago? We only argued for about an hour before we made up.”
“Wait… seriously that was the last time you argued?”
“Yep, we don’t argue about anything. Yes, we have disagreements about everything and anything, but it never leads to us fighting. But we also come to a mutual agreement on whatever we’re disagreeing with.”
“Okay okay” he puts on his concentration face on as she always puts it “have you took any bullets for him recently?” chuckling when he receives a deadpan look.
“No Sam I haven’t taken any bullets for him recently” rolling her eyes as she sets the now empty cup down “I honestly don’t know what I’ve done, I miss him.”
Standing up and placing a kiss to her temple “Go and talk to him, it’s breaking my heart seeing you both sad and mopey.”
“I will, thanks Falc”
Instead of going to find Bucky she grabbed her coat and bag and headed down to the garage, once she was inside her car she drove to the store.
The bed was covered in all different kind of snacks and drinks, her plan was to sit him down and talk then they’ll spend the rest of the night in bed watching movies and filling their faces. Making her way out of the room she went to track down her boyfriend - finding him in the gym.
“Hi bubba, can you finish up here and come with me” instantly not liking how her voice sounds.
“Um okay just give me a minute.”
“Of course.”
“Im done, where we going.?” Bucky’s right hand twitches to reach out to hold hers but all he does is shoves it in his pocket.
“Back to our room. We need to talk Buck”
He was prepared to drop to his knees and beg for her not to break up with him, promises on the tip of his tongue that he’d change and be better. Before he could utter a word, they had arrived at their room. The door was closed softly behind them whilst his head was bowed downwards finding his shoes more interesting. 
“Buck I don’t know what I’ve done wrong but I’m sorry I don-“
“I heard you”
“What?”
“I heard you talking to Nat about me being clingy and needy and annoying and I’m trying baby really I am. I gave you space, Im keeping distant because I love you and I don’t want you to break up with me an-“ 
“Bucky breath! Here sit down, focus on your breathing bubba” Moving him to sit on the sofa that was in their room, she knelt down in front of him going through his breathing exercises.
It took nearly 10 minutes for him to get his breathing under control, leaving him feeling more ashamed as always after he had a panic attack “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he manages to rasp out.
“I’ll tell you what I always tell you when you have panic attacks - don’t apologise. It’s okay bubba I promise, I’ve got you” taking his hands into hers so rubs her thumbs over his flesh and metal knuckles “I wasn’t talking about you that day Buck, I was talking about Alpine. He followed me and Nat into the common room and Nat made a comment, I was talking about how he only wants me when you’re not around. Oh bubba you actually thought I was talking about you?” Taking one of her hands from his she wipes the stray tear that rolls down his cheek as he nods “Bucky I love it when you’re all over me, I love knowing that I’m never alone because your always there. I have never once thought you was clingy not once! I love you Buck and I love the attention you give me and affection you show me. Please bubba understand that”
“I love you too” bringing up her hand in his metal one “I’m sorry for overreacting baby I should of spoken to you”
“Give me a kiss and all is forgiven” she grins cheekily.
He pulls her on to his lap and kisses her, both sighs contentedly as they share their first kiss in a week little pants of air leaves their lips once they detach from one another.
“I brought snacks and drinks so how about me and you get into bed watch movies, eat, cuddle and maybe some other activities?” She says with a suggestive tone with one eyebrow raised.
Bucky chuckles when a squeal interrupts him standing up.
The third film has finished, not like they were watching - to busy doing other activities - they lay tangled with one another. 
“I brought Alpine a new cat tree off the Amazon.”
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~ banners credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~
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mistiell · 1 year
Text
Let me put my Lips to Something
Pairing: Spencer x Fem! Reader
Summary: After learning about his aversion to touch, you tone down the physical affection. Spencer finds himself missing your touch, and after weeks of yearning, he’s had enough. He decides it’s time to fix this.
Word Count: 2.4k
Warnings: Fluff, it gets pretty steamy towards the end but nothing graphic so I don't think this needs age restricting lmao
A/N: Part 2 to “I’m Starvin’, Darlin’”. The feedback on the last part motivated me to finish this in like, a single sitting lmao. Hope y’all enjoy! :)
P.S. My requests are open so if you wanna send something in for Spence, I'll do my best to get to it quickly!
Part 1 - Current - Part 3
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Spencer hadn’t realised how much he wanted — how much he needed — your touch until you stopped. Where there was once that warm, tingly anticipation whenever he made you laugh, there‘s now a strange absence left in its wake. Where there used to have been a bump or a squeeze, there are awkward smiles and nervous glances. Like a line of dialogue without end quotations, left to hang in the balance while the author considers what should be said next.
It’s killing him.
He’s come to realise that this want extends beyond the bounds of anything that could ever be considered platonic. He wants more than your touch. He wants you.
He craves you, finds himself remembering the way your arms felt around him the last time you hugged him. Finds himself fantasising about how it would feel to be the one to take you in his arms. How it would feel to be the one to hold you; to cradle your face between his palms and lose himself in your kiss; to let go of his inhibitions and drown himself in the depths of your affections.
He wants your time and energy. He wants your attention and praise. He wants to be the one to make you smile and laugh so hard your stomach hurts. He wants to be yours, and he wants everyone to know it.
It’s only been three weeks since that night at the bar, but even so, he feels like if he doesn’t figure out how to tell you how he feels, he might very well lose his mind. You’re right across from him all day, five days a week. It’s torture. Perhaps he’s being dramatic, but at this point, he’s well beyond caring.
The problem is, how on earth is he supposed to go about confessing to you? He’s never been suave or charismatic. He’s awkward and dorky and breaks a sweat every time anyone even remotely attractive looks his way. He’s never felt this intensely about anyone before, never desired anyone this way before. Sometimes, late at night when he’s finally tucked himself into bed, he attempts to calculate the probability of you ever wanting him in the way he wants you.
In his pessimistic mind, that number is despairingly low.
“Spence?” He startles at the sound of your voice, snapping his head up to look at you.
You’ve worn a different lipstick today. It’s a little darker than your usual colour, a rather glossy, rosier shade of mauve. He thinks he’s seen it somewhere before, and the name pops up from somewhere in his memory.
“Rum raisin.” He mumbles, staring intently at your lips and wondering briefly if it would transfer if he kissed you.
“What?” You cock your head at him with an amused sort of confusion.
He blinks once before clearly his throat, “Oh, um, your lipstick.”
You raise your hand so your fingertips hover over your bottom lip as you smile at him, “How’d you know?”
“I saw it in a drugstore once.”
You chuckle and shake your head, “Your memory never ceases to amaze me, Spence.”
His heart swells as he smiles sheepishly, “Thanks.”
You hum before gesturing to two big boxes of files that are sitting on your desk, “Could you help me run these down to records?”
“Oh, yeah.” He’s quick to cross the short distance to your desk and purposely picks the heavier of the two boxes.
The trip down to records is a rather tedious one as of today. The elevator is out of order so you have to take the stairs from the sixth floor to the third.
“Do you like rain?” You ask, and it takes him a moment to realise you’re looking out water speckled windows at the stormy street below.
“Yeah.” He leaves out the part that the possibility of power outages and the darkness that accompanies them unnerves him greatly.
You turn your head to smile at him as you reach the records room, “Me too.”
He opens the door for you before you have the chance and lets you go in first, letting the door shut behind him. He follows you into the room, weaving between shelves and stepping over boxes that have yet to find their places. He watches you skim over the yellowed labels, your lips twitching as you read them off in your head.
You find the spot you’re looking for and make a sound of satisfaction before bending at the waist to slide the box into place, your skirt sliding a little further up to press against the plush flesh of the backs of your thighs. His gaze wanders up the length of your body and stops at your chest. From this angle, he’s able to see the curve of your breast and he swallows hard. Squeezing his eyes shut, he shakes his head, feeling ashamed for ogling you like that.
Behind the darkness of his eyelids, he sees the lights flicker and when he opens them, he finds he’s not able to see much more than when he had them closed.
Shit.
“Damnit, the power’s out.” You curse, taking the box from him and slotting it in next to the other.
He takes a deep breath. The dark isn’t as frightening with you there in front of him, but that familiar anxiety pricks his chest and settles heavy in his gut.
“Spence?”
He wonders when the emergency lights will come on. Maybe they’re already on in the hall. He feels along the wall and shuffles back over to the door. When he tries the knob, he finds it locked. Now he’s panicking a little.
Well, maybe a lot.
There’s a clap of thunder outside that’s so powerful that he feels it in his chest and he jumps, breath catching in his chest as he screws his eyes shut as if it’ll make a difference.
“Spence?” You call again softly, “Are you okay?
“Y-Yeah.” He stutters.
“You don’t like storms?”
He shakes his head before realising you can’t see him, “No, not really.”
“Me neither.” You whisper, and he hears the shuffling of your clothes as you shift your weight between your feet and huff a breathy puff of nervous laughter, “I don’t like the dark either.”
“Me neither.” He echoes, wetting his lips briefly as he considers how to comfort you despite how anxious he is himself.
Carefully, tentatively, he reaches for you in the dark and takes your hand, just barely brushing his thumb over your knuckles. Your skin is soft and warm, and he attempts to find your face in the dark as he murmurs ever so softly, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” You reply just as softly, squeezing his hand.
It’s a little unsettling not being able to see you. He can hear you breathing, and having your hand in his feels so nice, but he wants you closer.
“Can I…” He trails off, but tugs at your hand so you’ll step a little closer. He swallows his nerves, “Can I distract you?”
It’s a lame excuse, but it’s all he can come up with on the spot.
“Distract me how?” He can hear the smile in your voice and it encourages his steadily growing confidence.
He pulls you closer, and you step further into his space. He places a hand on your waist, and you don’t recoil. In fact, you come a little closer and set a hand on his chest. You slide it along the length of his shoulder and up the back of his neck to thread your fingers in the hairs at the base of his skull and he shudders, lips parting to sigh softly. Your thumb settles just behind his ear and strokes the skin there tenderly and he can’t stop himself from leaning down to gently bump your nose with his, giving you plenty of time to pull away, to tell him you don’t want this.
“Can I kiss you?” You ask so innocently, breath fanning over his lips in a steady rhythm as his eyelids flutter shut.
“Please.” He breathes, leaning in to meet you halfway.
Your lips meet his timidly and his heart stutters in his chest. There’s a second where you pull back to let him breathe, let him get used to the feeling. His eyes open a sliver, just enough to make out the edges of you in the dark as his brain catches up with his body. And then the shock passes.
And he devours you.
The hand that was on your waist comes up to cradle your cheek as he brushes his tongue against your bottom lip in a silent request. You grant it, opening up to him to let him roll his tongue against yours. You stand on your tiptoes and lean further into him, returning the kiss with a fervour he wasn’t expecting but welcomes happily. He can taste your lipstick and is pleasantly surprised to find it tastes a little like vanilla.
There’s a push and pull of tongues and teeth and soft little sighs as he dares to slip his hands down and pull you flush against him by your hips, revelling in the breathy moan that slips from your throat and meets his mouth. He pulls away only to kiss sloppily at the corner of your mouth and down your jaw. He nips at the juncture between your neck and shoulder, smiling against your skin when you gasp and tug at his hair. Mouthing at your skin, he searches until you whine and shudder after he drags his teeth over a particular spot and focuses his attention there.
He sucks a nice bruise into the spot, some primal part of him driving him to mark you up and claim you as his while he has you here. He bites a little too hard and you hiss, making him pull back and search for your face in the dark.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?”
“Mm-mm.” You hum before immediately capturing his lips again, slipping your tongue into his mouth and swallowing the moan that escapes him.
He guides you by your hips until he has you pressed against the door, sliding a hand down the length of your thigh before slipping it up past the hem of your skirt to grab greedily at your flesh. He hikes your leg up by his hip and you hook your knee around it to pull him impossibly close.
His touch is tender even as he practically swallows you whole, thumb stroking the side of your thigh where your skirt has ridden up. He rolls his hips up against your experimentally and you whine, urging him to do it again. This is what he’s wanted — craved — for so long. You’re warm and soft in ways that his imagination could have never replicated. He’s dizzy, drunk on your kiss, on your touch, on you.
He’s attached himself to your neck again — the other side this time — when the lights flicker on, startling you both into looking up at the ceiling.
The room is filled with nothing but the sound of your combined laboured breathing, and when he looks back at you, he finds your face flushed and your lipstick smudged. You look back at him and he notices your pupils are blown wide as you suddenly smile and start giggling.
“What?” He chuckles, letting go of your thigh so that you can stand on your own two feet again.
“Rum raisin looks good on you, doctor.” You laugh, thumbing the remnants of your kisses off of his bottom lip.
He kisses you once again, smiling against your lips.
You tug him back and laugh again, “You’re making it worse!”
He does it again, and again, and then peppers kisses over the side of your neck until you’re giggling something awful and have to scrunch your shoulder to your ear to keep him from tickling you.
“Spencer!” You squeak as quietly as you can and he pulls away laughing.
Your giggles die down, and then you’re both left in a silence that isn’t awkward, but isn’t quite comfortable either. He has to say something, but what?
“Hey, would you, um,” You start, glancing down at his lips and biting at yours nervously, “Would you like to go out with me sometime? Just us?”
He blinks, wanting to pinch himself to make sure this is actually happening, “Like, a date?”
You nod. He blinks again before practically beaming at you.
“Yeah.” He nods, attempting to correct the smudged edge of your lipstick with his thumb, “Yeah, I’d really like that.”
“Saturday? Five o’ clock? We can do whatever you want.”
He nods again, “Sounds good.”
“Good.” You smile, leaning up to kiss him, your touch so saccharine and gentle that his legs feel like jello beneath him.
The doorknob jiggles suddenly and he instinctively reaches to help you button up your blouse a little more while you fiddle with the collar until it covers the rather obvious hickey on your neck.
“Hey, are you two still in there?” Derek calls from the other side as you attempt to help Spencer fix his hair to no avail.
“Uh, yeah!” He calls, clearing his throat after his voice cracks up an octave, “We accidentally locked ourselves in.”
“Here.” You bend to slide the key under the door, and this time, he stares unabashedly, “That’s the key.”
The knob jiggles a little more before the door opens, and when it does, Derek eyes the two of you suspiciously, “You guys okay?” He locks eyes with Spencer and smirks, “You seem a little winded.”
“Yeah, we’re okay.” You smile, hastily walking out, “The boxes were just heavy. Plus, we had to walk all the way down here.”
“Yeah, okay.” Derek says, though it’s clear he isn't convinced. When you get a little further ahead of them, he claps Spencer on the back with a bright grin, “About time, loverboy!”
“Shut up.” Spencer shoots back, though he can’t help the smile that creeps up on his face.
This is not how he expected his confession to go, but — as he watches you walk down the hall a little ways ahead of him with a renewed pep in your step and your hair a little dishevelled — he is so glad it went the way it did.
———————————————————————
Edit: I had a couple people request a part 3 (Possibly smutty, but we shall see), and I'm curious about whether or not y'all would want that? Just let me know in the replies/reblogs. :)
Update: Part 3 is posted and linked at the top of this post :)
Taglist:
@louderfortheback @theblaxkbird @marimorena06 @special-forces7 @lolilkkk
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nitewingbabi · 8 months
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↳ call me anytime             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】warnings ⇢ sexting, swearing, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading, breeding-kink, rawr, overstimulation, mentions of somnophilia, pervert ghostface, voyeur, stalking, the usual dirty stuff ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock second part  ▻ a pretty mouth  tag @drpreminjer a/n; wrote this while listening to call me - blondie, and it just made the whole thing a lot hotter. if this gets 500 notes then I’ll put out a part four 
“This is going to be fun.” He was hungry for you, his jeans were off within seconds of seeing your pussy sprawled out for him. You turned your head in hopes to see him but from your angle it was hard. 
“I’m going to fuck up this pussy, you’re gonna be dripping with my cum when I’m finished with you.” You could only moan as you felt his hot tip brush against your slit, running along the thin crack and ever so slowly pressing into your folds just slightly. 
The tease was enough to drive you into psychosis, but you were pretty sure you were already there. At least now you could tick ‘fuck a serial killer’ off your bucket list. 
After dragging the head of his cock along your folds did he finally push in, the first inch painful as it surpassed your hole with a ‘pop’. After that he pushed himself further in til the base of his cock was against your thighs and ass. His thrusts were harsh but slow, teasing yet fulfilling. His own moans began to mix with yours as he started to speed up his pace. 
The sounds of pleasure and skin slapping echoed off your walls, and if you weren’t already turned on the smack delivered to your left cheek made you weak. It took you by surprise but it made you melt at the rush it gave you. 
“Such a slut, you’ve been dying to be fucked like this haven’t you? Been waiting for me to fill up your hole? Make you into a dirty whore. Feels good being fucked by a real man? A real killer.” You could barely get a word out as his thrusts became more violent and he was slamming against your cervix, ripping screams from your throat of pain and pleasure. He stopped his movements for a moment, flipping you over and pushing your legs against your chest. 
He slipped your shirt up, your tits falling out and bouncing as he thrusted back in and out. You didn’t take your eyes off him, looking over his body to see he had a button up shirt underneath his cloak and his pale toned abs were peeking through. His cock drilling in and out of you was a sight you thought you’d never get to see. 
His leather gloved fingers toyed with your perked nipples, twisting oh so painfully that it pulled a yelp from your lips. You loved it and hated it at the same time, wanted more and wanted him to slow down. 
“Such a dirty princess.” He muttered, almost going crazy with his thrusting as he could tell you were reaching your high. Your eyes watered at the immense sensation that passed through you, body shaking and clutching onto his arms as he continued to pound in and out. Your thrashing for him to stop was frustrating and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them down by your sides and pushing even harder. 
“P-p-please! I can’t—“ you tried to get out but your body felt like it was going into overdrive and spasming from the overstimulation. 
“You can princess. You will.” He laughed at your tears, throwing his head back as he began chasing his own orgasm. His moans got louder and you could feel yourself clenching as another orgasm would be ripped from you. 
“Fucking cum on my cock princess. Cum on your master’s cock. Do it for me.” You had only just realised that he was not using protection and you didn’t have any form of birth control. 
“W-wait, I’m not—“ you tried to speak but he cut you off. 
“Oh I know, I’m going to fill you up with me. Does that scare you? Carrying my baby? Carrying a murder’s baby? I thought you liked it like this princess? Hmm? Don’t back out now, I’m s-so fucking close—fuck!” His high came quicker than he wanted, clashing with your own high and both your juices flooding each other. Your orgasm clouded your mind and his cum warmed your walls. 
His hips had clashed against yours a few short times before he stopped riding out his high. Looking down and seeing you so full of his cum it was pouring out of you. He pulled his cock out, both your juices coating the member. 
You weren’t sure what to say but you wanted to say something. Anything. But what do you say to ghostface after he fucked you and came inside your pussy? You sat up, feeling slightly icky at the feeling of cum all over your thighs and comforter. 
He was making quick work of his pants and cloak, grabbing your chin to stop you from saying anything. 
“Until next time princess.” He placed his glove over your eyes and removed just the bottom of his mask to shove his tongue in your mouth and leave you with a taste of alcohol and what you guessed was marijuana as well. It made your heart race and you didn’t open your eyes until after he had left, looking over the damage that he had done. 
You knew you’d be at the pharmacy as soon as it opened the next morning. There was no way you were getting pregnant by a killer. 
-
It had been two weeks, and three murders since you had last had any contact with ghostface. Which was also when he fucked you raw and came inside you in your bedroom. 
You felt stupid for even thinking it, but you thought that he’d at least try and stick around or visit you. You weren’t after a relationship, but you were getting tired of the shower head and you were too embarrassed to keep a vibrator in your room. You walked down the hallway, carrying your books from class to class. You felt like you had been on autopilot for days, waiting around for something to happen. 
You felt bad for the families that had lost their members of family to him. And the police had still come up with nothing. You even began to think about who ghostface could possibly be? His body didn’t match a lot of the guys at your school. But then again some of the guys didn’t wear the most framing clothes either. You knew he was pale, and toned. Definitely taller than you. 
You began scanning the hall of your school, eyeing the guys that walked past and whether or not they fit your description. Or at least what you had seen of him. Your phone began vibrating in your hand, alerting you someone was once again messaging you. 
➤ looking for me? 
Your heart began racing, he was watching you. Your eyes left your device, looking around to see if anyone around you was paying a little too much attention. But you didn’t see anyone. The bell rung for class and you headed off to your last periods of the day. You were going to have to do some digging to find out who he was, not that you really cared who he was. But it would make contacting him a bit easier. 
Finally school being over for the day, you could collapse on your bed. Slumping down on the mattress and you felt your skirt fly up, your ass exposed to the empty room. You felt your phone vibrate again. 
➤ arch your back and spread your legs 
The message was mysterious and you had wondered how once again he was watching you. 
➤ do it. 
Without another thought you did as he said, pushing your ass to the ceiling and face into the mattress like you had been asked. Your back arching in a graceful way that it could’ve been considered art. 
➤ that’s a good girl. 
You wondered where he was, out your window? In your closet? You began to situate yourself back into a comfortable position. Eyes scanning around your room for once again, something out of the ordinary. Your eyes fell on your computer, green light appearing next to your camera and it hit you. He had been watching you that way. You moved closer the laptop, brows furrowing as you got up close to the camera. 
You knew he could see you, but could he hear you? Like he read your mind, your phone began ringing. 
Private Number 
“Hello?” You answered, hiding the slight worry in your voice as you thought of how long he must have been watching you through your camera. Not that it mattered but, he had access to it before he even started targeting you possibly. 
“Hi princess, wish you could see me. Cause I can see you.” His words were followed with a deep throating laugh, why did he have to make you so hot? 
“How are you doing that?” You asked in a harsh tone of voice, biting on your lip that he might react poorly to your aggression. 
“I can do whatever I want. You think this is the only camera I’ve been watching you through? I’ve got your house hooked. I know when you’re alone. When you’re awake. When you’re asleep. Although, while you’re sleeping it’s much better climbing through your window and fucking my fist to the sight of your cute pyjamas right in front of you. You don’t even stir, tits all perky for me, legs spread and ready to take me in. Maybe one night I ought to just fuck you then, wake you up nice and good with my cock. Hm? Bet you’d fucking worship me and beg me to stop but you wouldn’t mean in.” 
His words were working you up and you felt bothered that it did this time. He had been in your room when you weren’t conscious, seeing you in a vulnerable state and position. It felt unfair. 
“Well what if I keep you out? I’ll lock all my doors and nail my window shut if I have too.” You spat back, hoping he would take your warning seriously. 
“Oh princess, even if you could…would you really want me too?” 
2K notes · View notes
milswrites · 1 month
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The bonds that tie us
~Azriel X Fem!Reader
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Summary: You and Azriel accept the mating bond.
Warnings: Smut! 18+ MNDI, p in v
Azriel’s golden eyes stayed locked on yours. His intense gaze piercing your own until you could feel his searching presence in your very soul. Each heavy breath which escaped from his lips sent delightful tingles down your spine.
The sweet scent of his growing arousal permeated the air, causing you to slightly shift in your seat at the anticipation of the events to come.
“So?” You ask impatiently, tearing your eyes away from Azriel to look to the chocolate cake sitting in the middle of the table.
The cake which you had spent the past few hours baking. Pouring your love into the mixture as you did so, making sure everything was perfect for your mate.
It was a masterpiece. Your proudest work. And yet the shadowsinger never spared it a glance, not even as he entered the room. Instead he had walked in, burning gaze never failing to leave you as he sat down in the chair opposite. Failing to give you any other reaction except his heady scent of want which filled the room intoxicatingly.
He gulped deeply at the sound of your voice, finally moving his hazel eyes to the food before him. Face drawn black as he allowed the realisation of what this meant to settle deep into the marrow his bones.
“It’s for me?” He asked, voice thick with tension as he took in the cake before him, his eyes briefly closing as he inhaled the delectable smell of the fresh sponge.
“Yes Az” you replied, lips stretching into a smile as you watched the trace of glee wash over his expression. You pressed your thighs together, searching for some relief as you noted the darkness which crept into his passionate stare.
“This is what you want?” Azriel questions, the low rumble of his voice reverberated through your chest, tugging lightly on the taught strings of your heart.
“It is,” you confirmed, leaning your torso forward to enable you to reach the cake in order to cut the male a slice, “And you? Is this what you want?”
“Unquestionably” he replied, watching the way you delicately sliced through the layers of the cake before placing it on the plate before him. Settling back into your seat as your expectant eyes fell onto him.
But instead of eating, he began to speak. Forcing himself to say what had to be said before he’s too consumed by his feral need to devour you whole.
“I spent five hundred years waiting for you” he started, slowly running his tongue along his lips to wet them as he thought of exactly what he wanted to say, “And I would have waited five hundred more if it meant I got to be with you at the end of it.”
Your eyes began to water at the truth which laced his words, his honest eyes coming to meet your own.
“I always thought you were too good for me. The horrors of my past, the grim nature of my job. I couldn’t see how I could deserve you.”
He paused, taking a moment to gather his thoughts. You allowed him to assemble his words in silence, your time to speak would come. This confession he needed to get off his chest alone.
“You are my other half, my soul belongs to you. I see that now. And I’m ready for it, I am. I do deserve you, and I will spend the rest of my life knowing that. You are my mate. And the stars will sing our song forever.”
Azriel made no move towards the cake. So you took this as a sign that it was your turn to speak.
“I love you Azriel. I have for a long time, and not just because the cauldron intended for it to be so. My heart is yours to keep, and for as long as I shall live my love for you will know no bounds nor have any limits. I’m yours Az, I always have been.”
A rough growl broke from his lips at your final statement, his sharp jaw locking into place as he resisted the urge to jump on you then and there, cake be damned.
His fiery gaze remained on you as he lifted the sweet cake to his lips and began to eat. His chest heaving with the effort it was taking to finish the entire slice, the outpour of desire which flooded into his system was almost too unbearable to deny.
Finally he put the last remnants of the cake into his mouth, taking the time to deliciously lick the rich chocolate from his long fingers. Amber gaze still unwavering.
The atmosphere was electric. The overwhelming scent of your joint arousal was becoming too difficult to ignore and so you allowed your instincts to take control. Leading you from the rickety wooden chair across the room, until you were stood between the open legs of your lover. Of your mate.
His tender hands came to rest at your waist, the heat of their teasing touch burning and you had to resist the urge to hiss at their devastating presence. Lowering your face until your lips tantalisingly brushed against his own, you plucked on the newfound bond which had settled in your chest as you finally spoke to him through the golden thread.
My gorgeous, handsome mate.
Azriel closed the gap between you, sealing his soft lips against yours as they danced together in a passionate embrace. His rough hands tugging you towards him until you were comfortably sat in his lap, your legs splayed open on either side of his firm thighs.
It was as though you were a feral beast chasing after its prey. Devouring your mates lips as your tongues entwined, teeth occasionally clashing together at the messy intensity of the kiss.
Your control had vanished, leaving no trace behind until all that remained was your profound need to take Azriel in every possible way that you could.
Your desperate hands tugged wildly at his clothes, begging the male to remove them. The overpowering need to feel his bare skin on yours was blinding.
Understanding your needs Azriel briefly broke the kiss, allowing you to pull his constricting shirt from his body, uncaring as you tossed it across the room before connecting your lips against him once more.
Able to now feel the soft warmth of his bare skin, you raked your nails along his abdomen, drawing a long deep moan from his throat. His eyes squeezed together tightly as though in pain, as though your teasing touches weren’t enough to satisfy him.
He needed more.
Azriel wanting to feel your enthralling heat wrapped around his cock as he pounded into you. Each deep thrust signalling his claim over you. Over his mate.
And so in his need and impatience, the male stood. Holding you tightly in his strong arms as he made his way to the bedroom, lips never once straying from your own.
Entering the room he softly laid you upon the silken sheets, stripping you of your clothes as his sultry gaze was finally able to look upon your naked form.
His scarred hands having a mind of their own as they travelled the expanse of your skin, drawing sinful sounds from your lips as he lightly traced your nipples before connecting his mouth to your breasts.
Taking turns in worshipping each one, leaving purple pebbles in his wake as he gently bit and sucked at the tender skin, before trailing up your body to show the same love to the sensitive skin of your neck.
All the while your hips bucked up against his own in desperation, your aching core pulsating with its need for relief.
Ever the attentive lover, Azriel slipped his hand down the contours of your body until his skilled fingers met the area where you were most sensitive. His long fingers lazily tracing circles onto your clit as he turned his smirking lips to your face.
“What is it you need princess?” He goaded, fingers continuing their circular motion, “my fingers?” He brushed them lightly against your core, “my tongue?” He traced his tongue along the line of your neck as he spoke, drawing a whiny cry from your lips.
Bucking your whips against him once more, your fingers began to grip the sheets of the bed as you begged, “your cock Az please. Give me your cock.”
“Is that what my mate desires?” He growled lowly against the sensitive skin of your neck, “For me to pound her to completion with my cock?” He slipped his fingers inside you as he spoke, pumping them to the rhythm of your moving hips as he continued to speak, “Is that what you need princess?”
Unable to speak you whined in response, eager hands unbuttoning his trousers as you longed not to waste another minute.
Compliant, Azriel removed his soaking fingers from your core. Aiding you with removing his trousers and undergarments until his aching cock stood to attention before you. Red tip already leaking from the intensity of his desire.
“I want you to fuck me like you own me Az” you breathed, locking your black eyes with his own, “show your mate how you would worship her.”
Groaning at your words, Azriel lines himself up at your core. His teasing head brushing along your folds until he finally gave in to his longing and began to push himself in.
Satisfied moans tearing from both your mouths as he continued to enter you until he was fully sheathed. Stilling for a few moments as he allowed you to adjust to his large size.
Finally, you signalled him to move by thrusting your hips upwards towards his own, begging for the male the fuck you.
And Azriel did. Pounding into you forcefully, guttural moans slipping from his lips as his hips met yours again and again. Powerful cock thrusting in and out of you repeatedly.
The bond - the newly established golden thread which tied the two of you together - glowed brightly. Its presence creating an overwhelming intensity that drew you closer and closer to your completion with an unexpected ferocity.
The delicious sensation of your mates cock slipping in and out of your soaking core was enough to start to tip you over the edge of bliss, stars entering your vision with every thrust your mate delivered.
“That’s it” Azriel panted, the rhythmic movement of his hips never faltering, “You’re doing so well baby. Let it take over, show me you’re mine.”
You came undone with a pleasured cry, body spasming at the sensation as Azriel continued the brutal pace of his thrusts as he chased his own high. With your vision clouded by satisfaction, the only tell of him finding his completion was the strangled cry which tore from his throat as his thrusts finally slowed, the male delivering the last few twitching thrusts before he came undone inside of you with a groan.
Carefully, he withdrew himself from your core, moving so he was laid next to you. A gentle hand coming to caress your slightly sweaty skin, finger trailing the curve of your hips up to your ribcage before repeating the action.
“That was perfect” you hummed in contentment, pleased with the calming sensation that had settled in the wake of your high. Tired breaths still escaping from your lips.
“You think that’s it?” Azriel asked with a smirk, “My love that was just the beginning. I’ve yet to bring you apart with my tongue.”
Your cheeks flushed with heat at the promises which rolled from his lips.
“My darling mate,” he crooned, “you’re sorely mistaken if you think you’re leaving this bed before the end of the week. I’m going to explore every last heavenly inch of your body.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Notes: Ummmmm if you read this no you didn’t 🫣🫣🫣 this was only my second time writing smut so I’m sorry it’s bad and let’s all forget this exists ok?
867 notes · View notes
reiding-writing · 22 days
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hi red !! i'm sending through a rec for your climacteric event hehehehe <3
spencer reid x fem!reader with the colour prompts red 1 ("You're bleeding."), green 2 ("You're safe here, I promise."), and purple 1 ("You know you're my best friend, right?") please? LOVE YOU LOADS RAHHHH
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SCARECROWS [CLIMACTERIC]
1. “You’re bleeding.”
2. “You’re safe here, I promise.”
1. “You know that you’re my best friend, right?”
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WARNINGS: reader injury, blood duh, mentions of being stabbed <3
spencer reid x reader || hurt/comfort || 1.6k || event page!!
a/n: you adding the direct quotes made my job so much easier in finding them rip 😭 thanks for the request ml <333
main masterlist!! ⋆。°✩ event masterlist!!
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Sometimes you wondered why you joined the FBI.
If by making one different decision you’d be in a completely different career in a different part of the country with a husband and children living in a two story house with a white picket fence.
Spencer would probably fill you in on the butterfly effect, how a single flap of a butterfly’s wings could change the trajectory of the wind and spin into a tornado, or in your case, leave you stranded and unarmed in an overgrown cornfield with your only company being the crows flying overhead.
It was arguably, definitely, your fault, but what were you supposed to do when the unsub was running off into the night after you’d finally tracked him down.
He’d slipped under the radar for too long, you weren’t going to let it happen again.
Though you weren’t going to lie, you were starting to regret not waiting for the rest of the team.
How were you supposed to know that the welfare check you were sent on would turn into a chase?
They were twelve minutes out last time you checked. You didn’t have signal anymore, who knew how close they were now.
All you knew was that you were a sitting duck with an empty magazine in an unfamiliar location with a light level so low you could barely see your own feet.
You’d lost the unsub a good few minutes ago, and you weren’t about to stand around with nothing to protect yourself with, so you started running back the way you came, hopeful that it would bring you out back at the farmhouse, with floodlights and a phone signal.
You weren’t that lucky.
You never were.
“Oh my god—“ Emily sounds like she’s seen a ghost as she cups her left hand over her mouth, her right lowering to her side until her gun is limply resting in her fingers.
Her face is a mix of relief, astonishment and absolute horror, and as the team follow her gaze they mirror one by one until the whole group is frozen in abject shock.
You were alive, thank god, but you were also stumbling backwards out of the corn field like a final girl in a horror movie, completely disheveled and torn up with your attention completely focused on the rows of stalks in front of you like you were afraid something was going to pop out and finish you off.
The sight was enough for Spencer to feel like he was going to throw up his stomach, although whether out of relief or anxiety he wasn’t exactly sure.
Either way he was pocketing his gun and practically sprinting in your direction the second he got a full view of you, no care for what you were running from in his mind whatsoever.
At least you were okay.
“Hey-” His hand barely grazes over your shoulder before your instincts kick in and you swing your elbow outwards with the intent of sending it straight into his face.
It hits him directly underneath his nose, sending his neck back sharply to stop any worse injury occurring under the force of your arm.
It doesn’t deter him though, and he doesn’t so much as even cover his nose from the pain as he takes your arms in his hands to swivel you in his direction so that you can see that you aren’t in danger.
“Hey- Hey, it’s just me you’re okay, you’re safe here I promise,”
The flicker of absolute terror in your eyes makes him swear his heart is going to shatter, and even as he watches it fizzle out under the realisation that he wasn’t someone to be afraid of that small pit in his stomach didn’t disappear.
You looked bad.
Your hands were grazed and raw, you were covered in mud, half of your shirt had been ripped from the hem and tied around your left thigh — presumably as some sort of makeshift bandage, and you were so much paler than you usually were, all of the colour completely drained from your face until you looked almost translucent under the mix of moonlight and blared foglights.
“You’re bleeding— Did I do that? I’m sorry—” You reach up your hand towards and he swerves to take it in his own with a shake of his head, clasping his fingers gently around your shaking palms, careful not to irritate the angry red covering them.
“Don’t worry about me, are you okay? What happened?” His eyes roam anxiously over your frame, lingering specifically on the torn piece of fabric around your thigh that is slowly but surely turning from a charcoal grey to a dark maroon the longer you stand talking.
“I- He ran and- and I followed him and then I lost him and- I don’t- He doubled back on me and I didn’t-” Half of the words coming out of your mouth were almost completely incoherent, and he could see your pupils refusing to dilate even under the direct beam of one of the SUVs’ headlights.
“Okay okay, calm down, take a breath for a second,” Spencer gives your arms a small squeeze to cut off your attempt at an explanation, glancing over your shoulder where the team is still grouped together, with Morgan and Hotch on the phone — presumably for an ambulance and some backup respectively— and the others watching you cautiously, unsure whether they should join in on Spencer’s examination of your health.
“How did you hurt your leg?” You follow Spencer’s gaze downwards towards your thigh, and it’s like the second your eyes recognise what it is you completely loose control of all of your motor functions from waist down.
“Woah—” Spencer takes the sudden change in your weight distribution in his stride, or at least he tries to, shifting his arms underneath your armpits to stop you from hitting the ground underneath you and supporting your weight with his own as he stumbles a few steps backwards. “Guys—”
Emily is at your side immediately, alleviating some of your weight onto herself so the two of them can hold you upright.
“He had a weapon…” You wince under the searing pain in your leg, the adrenaline wearing off fast and hard now that your body knows it’s no longer in danger.
“What kind of weapon?” The concern seeps from Spencer’s voice to soak into your skin, leaving your heart to accelerate under the knowledge that you were injured bad.
“A uh… fork, like a gardening fork… He stabbed me with it…” Although more coherent now, your voice was slowly fading into small mutters and whispers, like the exhaustion in your body was catching up to your mind and making even your tongue too languished to move. “I’m really tired…”
“Hey no- not yet-” Emily shakes her head with a conviction. “There’s an ambulance on the way, you have to stay awake until then,”
“But…”
“Emily‘s right, stay awake you’ll be fine,” Spencer sounds like he’s more trying to convince himself than you as him and Emily support your weight back towards the cluster of SUVs, and the added weight of your head resting against his shoulder doesn’t help his anxiety whatsoever. “Hey, come on…”
He lifts his shoulder slightly to shift your head and you let out a soft noise of discontentment. “I’m awake I’m awake, just conserving my energy…”
“Just keep your eyes open okay?”
You give him a small hum as the two of them sit you down on the hood of one of the cars, and Emily leaves you in Spencer’s care to check with Morgan on the arrival of the ambulance.
“You know that you’re my best friend, right?” You turn your head a little further into Spencer’s shoulder as he becomes the sole pillar of your support, blinking slowly in an attempt to keep your eyes open.
“Don’t say that to me right now,” He shakes his head with furrowed eyebrows, a dark line forming between his eyes as the skin pinches together in his worry.
“But you are though,”
“You can remind me of that after you’re in the hospital,”
“I hate hospitals,” You let out a small, fatigued huff, rolling your eyes at the prospect. “I’m gonna be in there for god knows how long and I just wanna find this guy before he hurts anyone else…”
“Well, he has hurt you, and that’s what’s important right now,” Spencer’s tone contradicts itself between concern and relief. You’re alive, but you’re not in good shape. “We need to make sure that you’re okay before anything else,”
And in an act of holy divination — or just coincidence if Spencer was concerned — right as he mentions making sure that you’re okay the blaring lights of the called ambulance come into view, joined by a shrill, sharp ring that seems to echo over the field.
You all but hobble over to it once it’s parked, successful only in the fact that Spencer is actually supporting more of your weight than you were.
At least he stays by your side the entire time.
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zeltqz · 1 year
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feel good - sakusa kiyoomi x fem!reader sakusa tells you he's never had a blowjob before so you decide to make him feel good. 18+ NSFW CONTENT
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“Wait, you’re serious?!”
That reaction was expected; Kiyoomi had already practiced, and rehearsed his explanation in his head countless times as to why he’s never made a girl cum before and always refused blowjobs.
“You’ve never made a girl finish?” You watch as he shrugs his shoulders, mumbling something about it not being a big deal, and leans forward to grab another beer, cracking it open easily and downs it, hoping to get drunk enough to not remember this conversation in the morning.
“Kiyoomi! Don’t just drink your problems away!” He dodges your hand reaching for his beer can, swatting you away casually. 
“I’m not doing that.” He takes another swig, and you scoff, moving back to your spot on the couch. 
“And you’ve never had a blowjob? Why?”
“It’s not that big of a deal. Just don’t see the appeal of it.”
“Appeal of what? Pleasure? You know it feels good, right?” 
He gives you a sidelong glance, finishing up the rest of his drink then tossing the can onto the table. You slide up a little closer, your knee brushing against his thigh. “You don’t wanna feel good, Omi?”
Kiyoomi hates the way you say his name, the way you give it a little kick that runs straight to his cock. He hates the way you look up at him as you ask if he wants to feel good. 
“Personal space.” His thigh, built from years of training, muscle firm and thick, knudges against your knee with enough force to push you back, giving him back the pleasant space between you both.
It doesn’t help much, though, as the scent of your perfume and shampoo still lingers. 
“ Omi, please. I want to make you feel good. I want your first ever blowjob—”
Sakusa sighs, rubbing an agitated hand across his forehead. “Don’t call it that.”
“That’s what it is!” You flap your arms in the air. “What should I call it instead? Sucky fucky? Mouth to dick resuscitation? Dick in—”
One second you were running your mouth, the next your mouth was occupied with his tongue, licking into you with such fervor. Your eyes squeeze shut when you come to the realisation that this is real, this is happening. 
His warm, calloused hands hold a tight grip on your face as you shift forward, reclosing the space between you both. You topple on top of him when he roughly grabs your hips, tugging you on top of him.
“W—wait, wait—” You hold your breath for a second when he parts away from you, watching the line of spit trailing from your mouth to his snap.
“What?” He sounds breathless, irritated, hands tugging at the zipper on your shorts, eager to rip it off your body now that he’s in the mood.
It’s weird seeing him like this. Kiyoomi is a classified neat freak, always smoothening the creases on his shirt, never liking things out of place, angrily wiping the spit off his face when Atsumu sprays it, rather than saying it. 
“Why won’t this come off?” You giggle at his impatience, grabbing his wrists and relishing in the confused look on his face as you manevour yourself atop of him. 
“ I wanted to make you feel good. Remember?” Your voice sounds sweet, syrupy, beside his ear, slowly trailing your lips down the side of his cheek. “You gonna let me?”
His adam’s apple bobs when he swallows, sucking in a long, winded inhale as his eyes dart over your face, testing his patience, his resilience when you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. 
“Hurry up. Before I change my mind.”
You roll your eyes playfully, reaching inside to pull his cock out. It was thick in your hand, long and flushed from base to tip. The sparkle in your eyes at his go-to sends a tingle coursing through him, the shimmy of your hips as you tug his shorts down. “Gonna make you feel so good, Omi.”
“Stop talking.” He exhales at the feeling of your tongue tracing shapes onto the outline of his cock, evident and thick through his boxers. Sakusa watches you with hooded eyes, shoulders tensing when you fist at his cock, dragging your hand up slowly, then back down. 
You shift a little closer, resting your thumb on the top of his shaft, cautiously bracing your hands along his thigh, wetting your lips with your tongue. 
When your lips were slick with spit, you inch forward, engulfing the tip of his cock into your hot mouth. He groans unexpectedly, not expecting the sudden warmth to surround his cock. 
“Oh fuck —” It shouldn’t turn you on this much hearing him so breathless when you haven’t even done anything yet. Mouth full of cock, unable to speak, you hide your retort on your tongue, sliding your tongue languidly down his shaft. 
He throws his head back, giving you a delicious view of his throat, saliva pooling in your mouth with the urge to bite at it. After a couple moments of staring at the sweat sliding from his jaw, you tap at his thigh to grab his attention. “Keep your eyes on me, Omi.” 
Your words are muffled, and watered down by the amount of saliva in your mouth, pulling away to let it fall onto the tip before sucking it back into your mouth. 
He’s struggling to focus on anything but the feeling of your mouth teasing gently at his cock, and internally thanks you for bringing this topic up because damn, he was missing out. He understands now; understands why whenever Atsumu meets a pretty girl with nice lips— his words, not Kiyoomi’s— he’s taking her upstairs for some fun.
The sight of you makes his cock twitch, accompanied by the moan you let out once you feel it. It’s getting messier, his heavy breathing is getting louder. Saliva pooling from your mouth drips down, and he’s catching it using the tip of his thumb, his mind a nest of fog and haze as he tries to focus on the warm suction of your mouth.
“Shit.” 
His hips jerk forward and you choke, your tight throat convulsing around his tip, and he would feel bad at how the sound of you choking turned him on more, had him wanting to tangle his fingers in your hair and push you down to slip himself further inside your tight throat. He would feel bad about that, if it wasn’t for your body rising, hips shimmying from side to side as you brace your hands on his hips for leverage, taking his cock deeper in your mouth. 
He’s so thick inside you, your jaw aches, and your eyes are pooling with tears, but you’re desperate to hear that noise once more, that choked off moan he let out when he let his guard down. 
He watches with focused eyes as the tears gather at the corner of your eyes, watches the way they threaten to fall as you suck a little harder at his cock.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He can’t help himself, and you freeze when you hear it, giving your jaw a temporary lunch break, flicking your eyes up to him. The sight of him is gorgeous; his lips are parted slightly, broad chest expanding and deflating as he struggles to catch his breath. 
The only time you’ve seen him this breathless is after a long day of practice. 
You forget where you are and what you’re doing, mouth vibrating around his cock as you try to call him pretty too. He groans, a low sound that sends a tingle straight down to your legs, fighting back the urge to touch yourself. 
He watches as you swallow him back down, as you peek up at him through your lashes, as you hold the heated eye contact for a moment before closing your eyes, focusing on pushing him closer to his peak.
He wants to be louder, wants you to let him know how good you feel, how warm your mouth is, but it’s like he’s tongue tied, only making subtle grunts when he slips too far down your throat. 
You moan around his cock, back arching in a way that he can see the long slope of your body, hands tingling with the urge to fuck you into the couch.
There’s a ticklish feeling down by his balls and he jerks his eyes away from your body, down to your hands. You tug gently, rolling them between your soft fingertips. 
“Fuc—fuck—” He stutters out, hips thrusting forward one time more, burying himself in the heat of your mouth, hot cum spilling out beyond his control. 
Your cheeks hollow as you suck the rest of his cum from his tip, humming to lure the rest out. His hands tangle in your hair and he’s pulling you off his cock with a gasp.
Your hands fly to your throat, massaging it from the outside to ease the burn, and he watches, breathlessly panting, as you compose yourself.
“So—” You cough, and he notices how hoarse your voice is. “Feel good?”
He could lie; could keep his ego and watch you frown and attempt to suck him off again because you’re you, and you never back down from a challenge.
When he’s silent, the frown on your lips play anyway, and as you inch forward, he shifts back, until you’re on top of him, caging him in with your arms beside his head. 
He meets you halfway when you lean down,  capturing your lips together in a heated kiss. He can taste himself on your tongue and despite how disgusting that makes him feel, the twitch of his cock tells a different story. He’s licking into your mouth, eager to drive the taste of him away, now desperate to taste you. 
With a push, your back hits the couch gently, and you bite at your lip as he flips the position, caging you in this time. You smile up at him, hands sliding along the length of his arms to tangle behind his neck. “You never answered my question, Omi.”
“Shut up.” Your grin grows, inching upwards to kiss him, your lips brushing his cheek as he looks down to your shorts, unzipping them all the way before sliding them off. You gasp as he tugs you forward, bending down so his lips brush yours. “Lemme make you feel good.”
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