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magicalbats · 7 months

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Kinktober Day 18: Spanking

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7590

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, brat taming, forced submission, corporal punishment, non consensual spanking, over the knee spanking (my favorite cmdmdmd), paddling with a hairbrush

A/N: I really hope this one isn't too messy, I haven't been feeling super great and I am posting this at *checks clock* 4:26 in the morning skdnfksnf so please be gentle with me! 🙈

⭐

The Duke of Meropide was a truly infuriating scoundrel!

You’d been arguing with him in his office for almost an hour now and it felt like all you’d done is go around in endless circles. One moment he would in all seriousness shoot down a suggestion or a point you’ve made, and the next he would abruptly ask you about tea or cookies with equal sincerity. You couldn’t make heads or tails of it, and you were quickly reaching the end of your patience with him. Had the topic of reform and rehabilitation of ex inmates not been so very important to you, you’re sure you would have stormed out of his office a long time ago.

“For the final time, my lord, I care for neither your white tea nor your black tea.” You intone as mildly as you can manage given the state of your nerves. “Please, just listen to me for a moment. That is all I ask.”

Perfectly casual, Wriothesley reclines back into his tall chair and brings his hands together over the bend of a propped up knee. “I have been listening. Quite attentively too. However, I just don’t see how your proposal is going to work and I think you might be barking up the wrong tree, miss. My apologies for saying so.”

“No offense taken.” You clench your jaw so tight it hurts. “But why do you think it isn’t going to work? Have I not explained the steps to successful rehabilitation enough for your liking?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly thorough. Excessive, even.”

Spine snapping straight at that, you pin him with a furious look you don’t even try to conceal but he just waves it off without missing a beat.

“The problem is, I don’t think you understand how the Fortress of Meropide functions. It is you who hasn’t been listening to me, I’m afraid.” He continues on, as stony and impassive as ever. “As I already said, the inmates are free to leave once their sentences are served in full. It’s just that the vast majority of them do not wish to return to the surface world and choose to stay here of their own volition. There’s nothing I nor you can do to change that.”

“But — but that’s because there weren’t any systems in place to help them!” You stammer, desperately rifling through your stacks of paperwork and statistics in search of the findings collected on job and housing placement welfare. Finally locating it with a triumphant puff of air, you jump to your feet and shove it at him over the desk even when he tries to once again wave it off. “The proof is right here, your grace. It should take only a moment of your time to read and understand the data presented in this report for someone as no doubt well informed as you are.”

Stilling, Wriothesley steadily meets your look of challenge with a cool stare of his own. A beat passes and then, heaving a rather terse sigh, he reaches out to reluctantly accept the sheet from you. “I’ll look at it but I’m telling you, miss. These graphs and numbers don’t mean anything in the real world.”

“We’ll see about that.” You scoff and cross your arms over your chest, impertinently standing over him while he reads even when you know you’re really pushing your luck here. He was a duke, a by all accounts certificate wielding lord in the flesh and blood, and you, a lowly commoner, had no right to try and force his hand like this. Still, you hold your ground though, confident that you knew what you were talking about when you had the data to back it up. It was he who didn’t understand how the real world worked after spending so much time underneath the ocean in this rust bucket of bolts he called a fortress.

His eyes steadily move over the page, taking in everything at an agreeable enough pace to placate you into silence, and Wriothesley eventually gives his head a curt nod when he reaches the bottom. “I see. It’s just as I thought.”

You have but the blink of an eye to feel the first dawnings of hope start to crest over your heart and then, unceremonious as can be, he reaches over to neatly deposit the paper into the trash bin.

“It’s garbage.”

“Wh - wait just a minute - what do you mean it’s garbage?” You stammer, spit and sputter in white-hot affront so potent you start to feel your cheeks becoming warm. It takes every single ounce of self control you possess not to round on the desk and throttle the life right out of him! “If you didn’t understand the information all you had to do was ask, your grace and I would have gladly taken the time to - -“

“I understood it perfectly, miss, and I am once again telling you that it is your understanding of the situation that is inherently flawed, not mine. You simply can’t make the prisoners do something they don’t want. I trust that you do understand that much, at least?”

“It is not a matter of making them!” You seethe, hands clenching into tight fists at your sides. “It’s giving them a viable option between spending the rest of their lives trapped under the sea or being able to rejoin their friends and family on the surface. I expected you to have at least a little bit of sympathy for the people under your care!”

Heaving another soft sigh, Wriothesley unfolds his legs and sits forward to brace his elbows on the desk in the most impolite slouch you’ve ever seen from someone who was supposedly a part of the aristocracy. “Don’t take this the wrong way but I think I care about them a shade more than you do. We’re talking about people who have made a new place for themselves down here and it would be remiss of me to start kicking them out just so you can get your brownie points. This is their home.”

You jerk as if he’d physically struck you. “Now you listen here - -“

“No. I have listened to you enough for one afternoon, miss.” He cuts across you like the crack of a whip without either raising his voice nor sharpening his tone, but the low rumble in it is still enough to stop you in your tracks.

Eyes widening slightly, you watch him stand from his chair and sedately step around the desk to come loom over you with his imposingly massive frame that leaves you pitifully craning your neck back when he stops in front of you.

“It’s time for you to listen to me now. I’m sure you had good intentions in coming here with this little scheme you cooked up but I’m telling you it isn’t going to work. The inmates who choose to stay here like the simplicity of life in Meropide and the stability it provides them. So long as they work hard and stay out of trouble they’ll have no problems earning a living for themselves but can the same be said about the overworld? What’s going to happen when they get fired from the jobs you place them in after running late one too many times? Or what about when they fall asleep during their shift from exhaustion? Do you know what happens when either of those things occur down here? They simply don’t get their regular number of coupons for the day but they can always come back and do better the next. Will they have that same security up on the surface?”

“T - that’s why rehabilitation is so important.” You rush to say. “We can teach them to reintegrate into society so that they won’t have to worry about things like that - -“

“Everyone worries about things like that, little miss. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”

Your eyes flash at him dangerously. “Do not call me that! In fact, I believe I’ve had quite enough of you at this point! I want to speak to someone else! Preferably a person with something more substantial than rocks for brains!”

Wriothesley scowls at that, narrowing his own eyes back at you in warning. “You can want it all you like but that doesn’t mean you’re going to get it. I’m the only person you need to speak to right now … and I would suggest you reconsider how you’re speaking to me.”

“Hah! Or what?” Riding high on adrenaline and jittery nerves, you impulsively reach out to jab a finger at the center of his big, beefy chest. “You can’t throw me into a cell just because you don’t like the tone of my voice! Is that the kind of operation you're running down here? Maybe when I get back up to the surface I should contact The Steambird about the tyrannical power trip his grace is on!”

He snorts a brief laugh as if the very notion was a ludicrous one, though you couldn’t tell if it was your assertion or the thought that you might go to the papers that he found humorous. “That’s funny, but I don’t need to throw you in prison just to put you in your place, miss. I’m giving you one final warning to knock it off and calm down.”

You take an aggressive step closer to him, head tilted all the way back now so you could see his face past the bulky mass across his pectorals. “Enlighten me then, my lord. What are you going to do to me if I don’t bend the knee?”

“I think I might start by taking you over my knee first.”

Giving a startled jerk, you go stock still and just stare at him for the span of a single heartbeat. The ice suddenly gripping your veins is instantly replaced by a hot, raging inferno that seems to make your blood boil and, seeing red, you viciously bring your heel down on the top of his boot, grinding it in for good measure. “I’d like to see you try it, you ba - -“

His hand shoots up and, much to your squawking surprise, he grabs around the meat of your upper arm to tug you into him, making you stumble and half fall against the bend of his elbow. Before you even have a chance to draw a full breath to berate him with his other hand cracks across the meat of your ass with a deafening whap! The sharp pain is immediate and splintering, rocking you against him with the abrupt impact as your mouth warbles open in equal parts hurt and shock. He gives your arm a tight yank to keep you pressed in against his side when you try to scuttle away, nudging you insistently until you realize you have no choice but to look up at him except … except you’re not sure if you do so with impotent rage darkening your face or if it’s a tearfully remorseful expression he sees looking back at him.

Perhaps it was a frustrating combination of the two?

Wriothesley regards you in contemplative silence for a long moment, his own facial expression not giving much of anything away while the blinding sting across your backside gradually settles into a constant burning throb, but you don’t know what else to do other than stand there and wait for him to say something. You couldn’t believe he’d struck you like that — like a child! You’d only just met the duke today so for him to be putting his hands on you like that was beyond ridiculous, and completely inappropriate. But for as mad as you were, even for as much as your body trembles with frantic, clawing anger, you didn’t quite trust yourself to speak just yet … he would hear about it soon enough. In great detail and at even greater length, once you’d recovered enough to not need to worry your voice would crack and waver over your words. Very soon indeed.

“I told you what was going to happen,” He says at last, perfectly calm and even toned as ever considering he’d just hit you. “Didn’t I, little miss?”

Glaring daggers at him, you give your body a furious wrench against his hold but he keeps you in place easily enough. His hand was just so big it seemed to nearly encompass the total width of your bicep, allotting him the perfect hold on you that would only cause pain and discomfort if you were to truly struggle which left you with very little in the way of options. Grudgingly, you go still again and petulantly turn your head so you wouldn’t have to look at him any longer. You needed to focus on calming yourself before anything else. Acting rash now was only going to get you hurt.

“I don’t know who you think you are,” You finally manage to hiss. “But you've got a lot of nerve to put your hands on me like this.”

“And what are you going to do about it?” He volleys right back, not missing a beat, and you irritably twitch when you realize he’s thrown your own words back at you. He’d be in for a rude awakening soon enough, if you had any say in the matter.

“Enjoy your fun while you can, your grace. I was only bluffing earlier but now I think I really will go to The Steambird and tell them everything that’s transpired here today! What do you think about that, hm?” Impulsively, you whip your head back around to pin him with a biting look of challenge, but he just lifts his brows up at you as if in surprise.

“I think you are indeed a mouthy little brat in need of a good spanking to correct that attitude of yours. What are you going to do at The Steambird then? Take your pants down to show them your red bottom and let them take pictures for the morning paper?” Clicking his tongue, Wriothesley shakes his head as if in disappointment. “You’re not thinking this through all the way, but I suspect that’s a problem you regularly struggle with. Come, let’s get you sorted out.”

You suck in a horrified, raking breath when he shifts as if to move back towards his chair and quickly dig your heels into the ground to stop it. “W - wait! You can’t do this!” You wail, and a foolish pitter patter of hope skips across your chest when he actually pauses to look at you again. Maybe you could still talk your way out of this. It might cost you some of your pride, but that seemed a reasonable sacrifice given the situation. “Ah, what I meant to say is … I’m sorry?”

A sudden, clipped bark of laughter bursts out of him. “No you’re not.”

“I am, really! I’m very sorry for, um, stepping on your boot like that. I’ll have it cleaned and polished if you’d like. Just please let me go. Please?”

“I don’t think so.”

Wriothesley starts to pull you into motion again and you reel back against his hold even when it makes his thick, blocky fingers sink into the meat of your arm. “Wait! I promise I’m sorry, I really, really am! I didn’t mean it! I swear!”

Breathing out a patient sigh through his nose, he gently (surprisingly so) tugs you around to stand in front of him even when you stumble and drag your feet in a blithe attempt to avoid compliance. “You’re only sorry right now because you’re in trouble. I’m going to give you something to think about and a chance to reflect on your actions, and then you’ll really be sorry. Is that clear enough for you, miss?”

“You can’t do this …”

“Oh, but I can. Take a look around you and tell me where you’re standing. This is my fortress which means I get to make the rules here. If I decide bratty girls who like to run their mouths even after being told to calm down — repeatedly, might I add — need a spanking to get them in order then that is exactly what’s going to happen. And do let me remind you that I gave you plenty of chances to heed my warnings but you didn’t. You can thank your own attitude for getting you into this predicament.”

You try very hard to keep your expression in check but you’re pretty sure you fail rather miserably at it, and a flash of that vulnerable fear still manages to creep into your face. “I am not a child!” You insist, shuddering violently. “You can’t treat me like one! That’s not fair!”

“Oh, I’d say what’s not fair is barging in here like you own the place and not listening to a word I say. You’ve certainly acted like a child so I think I’m perfectly in my right to treat you like one now.”

Not giving you a chance to think of something else to say and further stall, Wriothesley suddenly swoops down and curls his arm around your thighs so he can yank you right up off your feet. You choke in surprise as much as at the sudden rush of movement, but there’s nothing you can do to stop it when he straightens up with you clutched across his front. Stinging hot tears flood your eyes all at once and you seethe, kicking and flailing, as he effortlessly carries you back around to the desk. It’s like you barely weigh anything in his arms which neither shudder or strain to hold you no matter how wildly you try to fight him. Even when he takes his seat again he still manages to much too easily manhandle you into place across his lap like you weren’t even struggling with every single ounce of strength you possessed.

In shockingly quick order you find yourself spread across his legs, on your tummy, but still you hiss and twist until his hand abruptly strikes across your upturned ass again. You jump so hard you nearly collapse right then and there but the thick, burly arm now curled over your trembling body keeps you firmly in place when you lurch. Wheezing frantically, you try to push yourself upright but it’s no use, and his palm swats you over your pants again, rapidly draining you of the energy to keep up the effort any longer when it hurt so bad it seemed to rob you of the ability to even think straight. Mewling at the deep hurt, you jerk forward at the next strike and let out a pitiful, broken little sob.

“I warned you to stop.” He reminds you again, falling into an easy steady rhythm. Whap, whap, whap, whap. One cheek and then the next, each hit somehow worse than the last as the burning sting grows and spreads across your defenseless backside. Even your desperate squirming was not enough to dissuade him from finding his mark as he peppers your sit spots in quick, agonizing succession. “I gave you so many chances too, but you just wouldn’t listen. Why is that, huh? Didn’t anyone ever teach you any manners?”

“Please stop — oww! T - that hurts, you damn brute — oww!”

“Keep it up and I’m just going to keep adding more. When you can’t sit right for the next week you’ll think back on this, I promise you that.”

Clenching your teeth, you fiercely try to keep the tears at bay so he wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing you cry but the intense, constant crack of his hand on your ass soon wins out and they start to track wet lines down your burning face. You sniffle sadly and weakly kick your legs out behind you, making an attempt to curl them up and shield your already sore behind, but he just roughly tugs you further across his lap. Abruptly finding yourself slipping forward to half dangle over the side of the chair, you gasp and mindlessly stiffen up across his lap to stop your balance from tipping. That quickly proves to be a mistake though when the tense way you’re now holding your body just seems to make it hurt even worse, and you plaintively shake your head with a wordless shriek.

“Please stop it, your — ah! Your grace! I’m begging, I can’t — oww!”

“Perhaps you should have thought of that before you kept acting up.”

Whap, whap, whap, whap

“Ow, ow, owowow, ow! You’re … you’re doing it too hard! Stop it!”

Wriothesley chuckles somewhere far above you, the low timber of his voice blanketing over your muddied senses to make you shiver. “Actually, I don’t think I’m going hard enough yet. Not for the way you were behaving. Not to worry though, all in due time. This is just the warm up, after all.”

You go stock still across his legs, your heart skipping a long, harrowing beat. A warm up - -

“Yeow! Sto - ah - ahhhp! Please!”

Whap, whap, whap, whap

Hanging your head low, you openly sob and kick at the air now, clutching his thick boot with one hand while the other hangs onto the chair leg in a death grip to somewhat steady yourself. The sharp stabs of pain seem to chip away at your consciousness bit by bit, each slap of his massive hand taking with it a little piece of you each time it recedes. You’re so dazed by the constant onslaught that you almost don’t notice when he abruptly pauses and grabs under your arms.

Then you’re suddenly being hauled up and forced to stand on legs that immediately threaten to give out under you but Wriothesley just guides you around to stand between his legs. Furiously trying to wipe the evidence of tears from your face with a sleeve, you blearily watch as he brings his hands up to unbutton the front of your pants which he unceremoniously tugs down your legs to leave them bunched around your ankles. You can’t help but gasp, your cheeks burning even hotter at having your panties suddenly exposed to him, but you don’t get the chance to so much as suck in a shuddering breath let alone actually voice your protests.

Just like that, he’s dragging you back down over his lap and you twist against his hold with renewed fervor, clawing viciously at any part of him you can reach. His palm mercilessly swatting you across the back of your underwear freezes you in place though, and you let out a high pitched, keening sound at this new level of hell he’s introduced you to. It’s so much worse without your slacks in the way and just the thin layer of cotton to protect you from the full brunt of his punishing slaps. You’re so caught up in trying to process the extent of it when he shifts over top of you that you don’t even think to shriek at him to stop — but then his unoccupied hand fists the material of your panties and yanks them up to pull firm against your screaming backside. You outright squawk and choke at the sensation only to realize what he’s doing a split second later when he swats your ass again and the hurt suddenly feels like it’s skin to skin.

Howling in distress, you jerk and writhe against his legs but Wriothesley’s hold on your underwear effectively stops you from crawling away. You simply can’t escape it and the space between your ears is soon once again filled with the sharp swat! of his hand lighting you up. It was easily the worst thing you’d ever experienced, even putting aside the inherent humiliation of being spanked over his knee with your pants around your ankles.

“Waaa - aahhaaaaaa! Your grace, I - I’m sorry … owwww!”

“Are you now?” He murmurs, punctuating the soft tone of his voice with two blistering slaps, one to each cheek to leave you withering in his hold. “And what are you sorry for, little miss? Come on, speak up.”

That was incredibly difficult to do when he wasn’t letting up on your ass for even a moment but, hoping against hope that placating him might make this end quicker, you suck in a haggard, gasping breath to steady yourself. “I’m sorry for - eek! I’m sorry for all the rude things I said to you earlier! Oww! I - I shouldn’t have come in here and - ahh! Ahh! I shouldn’t have disrespected you in your fortress, your grace! I promise I’m sorry!”

“And what else?”

What else? What else even was there!

You desperately try to think, to figure it out, but your head is swimming so fast you start to think you might pass out. Loosing a broken moan, you agonizingly kick back and try to find purchase on the floor, only succeeding in half sliding off his knee. He easily readjusts his hold and rather meanly pulls harder on your panties though, making you squeal when they dig into your cunt and it essentially forces you to straighten your legs instead of slouching away from the continuous barrage of his hand. You choke on some kind of mindless animal sound and try to shove yourself forward in your desperation but he just spanks you even harder for the trouble.

“Well? I’m waiting.”

“I don’t know!” You cry out, dancing on the tips of your toes as if that would somehow alleviate some of the deep, throbbing ache encompassing your rear end. “I don’t know your grace, I don’t know but I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

You just barely manage to catch the sound of him clicking his tongue over your wailing. “How can you be sorry for something if you don’t even know what it is? You’re really not taking this seriously, are you?”

“I am!”

He stops so abruptly you lurch, gasping, as if he’d followed through on delivering the next blow. Shuddering uncontrollably, you warily twist to look over your shoulder with big, wet eyes to watch him fold your panties down over your ass to join your slacks around your ankles. Realizing what he’s doing your fight or flight instincts seem to kick in like never before, and you hysterically wrench against his hold. To your stumbling surprise you actually manage to slip free for a split second, for the span of but a single heartbeat, and then he’s reaching up before you can get your trembling legs to cooperate and he roughly tucks you down across his thigh again. This time with that heavy, corded steel arm locked around your waist.

“Wait, wait, wait - -“

Smack!

Your ass promptly erupts in splinters, every single nerve ending in your behind vibrating numbly at the impact. It punches the air right out of your lungs, leaves you gasping for even a sliver of air, but he doesn’t give you a chance to fully process the hurt. Smack, smack, smack, smack! The crack of his hand across your bare skin sounds deafening now and you shake uncontrollably as you cry out in unrestrained agony. Back and forth between each burning red, swollen cheek, he pays equal attention to both sides until it feels like the tingling flesh is quite literally on fire. You writhe against the blinding hurt and sob so hard the shudders wrack through you from head to toe even as you weakly try to push up and squeeze through his arm. It’s no use though. Wriothesley’s hold is as good as iron and all you can do is wrench at each blistering crack without any way to escape it.

“Well?” He expectantly prompts, but you’re a little too far gone in the swimming daze to properly respond now, just noising a series of incomprehensible whines and mewls with every strike. Quickly picking up that you were slipping under now, he breathes out a stilted sigh. “If there is but one thing you take away from this,” He intones, still bringing his palm down again and again, and again. “Let it be to pick your opponents more wisely in the future. You don’t just get to walk in here and start calling the shots, do you understand me?”

You croak out something that might be a yes, incomprehensibly slurred between all the tears and snot running down your face, and the sad little hiccups making your throat constrict. That seems to be good enough for him though, and he just presses on.

“I was nice enough to invite you to come to Meropide,” smack, smack, smack, smack “Even though I could have turned you down right from the start. I already knew your little pet project wasn’t going to pan out,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I figured I’d at least hear you out first and this is how you decided to repay me? Despite what you probably think, I don’t like having to punish people,” smack, smack, smack, smack “But I’m not about to let some upstart little brat come in here and try to tell me what my inmates need. You don’t know the first thing about this place no matter what all your worthless charts tell you.”

Smack, smack, smack! Smack!

You flinch, weakly rocking forward when the next slap never comes. Groaning thickly, you squirm and dance on your feet, trying to shake off some of the discomfort even though it’s useless, but still he just sits there. You’re distantly aware of him breathing a bit heavier than before, either worked up from the act itself or the physical exertion of delivering a sound spanking, and you just whine low in your throat at the resounding throb throughout your body. It seems to claw through you and set every single nerve to trembling vibration, leaving you quaking violently in his hold.

Finally, what feels like an eternity later, Wriothesley draws a steadying inhale. “Have you learned your lesson?”

“Y - yes …” You croak out with no shortage of effort, but his blocky fingers just dig into your hip to give you a brief jostle

“Wanna’ try that again?”

Your already strained heartbeat somehow manages to become even more wild at the panic that rushes in to smother over you. What did he want? Would he spank you again if you didn’t figure out the answer?

“Yes, sir?”

“That’s better.” He relents, giving your shuddering thigh an amicable pat. Silence descends over the office for a drawn out beat and then he suddenly leans forward, half dragging you with him while he opens one of the drawers on the desk to rummage around. “I don’t think you’re really sorry, not yet. But you will be soon. I know I have that damn hairbrush Sigewinne gave me somewhere.”

A hairbrush?

Your blood turns to ice at the implication, and the fresh wave of fear that abruptly grips you in a chokehold seems to clear some of the fog from your head. You could think just a little bit clearer now and you did not like where your thoughts were going, not one bit. Surely he wouldn’t actually take it that far after already abusing your ass so much with his hand.

“Your g - grace?”

Ignoring or just not hearing the weak little mouse squeak, Wriothesley settles back into his chair again, grabbing a pinching handful of your inner thigh to drag it over his knee once more. He doesn’t quite force your body across his lap but he does make sure you’re stretched out in a rather inelegant sprawl that leaves your legs embarrassingly spread and you start to shake in earnest now. You hadn’t thought it was possible for the human body to vibrate at such a high frequency but that's exactly what seems to be happening as the crushing reality of the situation gradually settles over you like a shroud.

And then, the press of something solid and flat touches your burning ass, and you practically jolt right up off his legs altogether.

Your skin crawls with it making you feel truly sick and nauseous even as you frantically try to twist your neck around to see. He’s got you at such an awkward angle though that you can’t make out much of anything and your panic rapidly starts to ratchet up into damn near a full on attack until he gently taps the object against your behind to pull your attention back into the moment.

“I’m going to give you twenty spanks with this brush, little miss. I want you to count them, and don’t forget to show me some respect while you do it.”

“I - I - I can’t, sir, I can’t, I can’t take anymore, p - please, it’s too much - -“

“Hush. I’ve got you,” He coos, unexpectedly gentle and soft, but it doesn’t do much to ease your heaving gasps or the erratic pounding of your heart. Still, you find yourself grudgingly getting pulled into that tender croon and you make a conscious effort to calm down even as you sway unsteadily over his thigh. “You’re alright. You’ll just get yourself all worked up over nothing acting like that. Deep breaths. That’s it. Now take another for me. Good girl. See? You can listen when you want to. It’s not so bad, is it?”

He offers the pudge around your hip a reassuring, possibly even approving squeeze when your breathing starts to slow to a normal, wheezing pant rather than the thin lungfulls you’d been sucking in just moments ago. You decidedly disliked him a great deal, perhaps more so than you’d ever disliked any one single person in all your life, but you were at least glad he was able to keep you grounded. Never mind the fact he was the cause of it to begin with, you were just thankful it didn’t feel like you were going throw up and pass out anymore.

And still the throbbing burn across your ass keeps pulling tiny little whimpers from your dry throat. It really was too much.

“Is it necessary?” You finally manage to rattle out.

“The brush? In my eyes it is, yes. This will show me whether or not you’ve been paying attention this whole time, if you can be respectful towards me throughout this last leg even though you’ll probably want to curse me to high heaven and back. If you can tell me you’re really sorry when we’re done then it will be over. Does that sound agreeable to you?”

Groaning in defeat, you hang your head low and just take a moment to think. Your options were regretfully limited but … you wanted to trust him at his word and, more importantly, you just wanted to have it done and over with already. The pain crawling across your backside was immeasurable, gradually receding to a dull, distant, but no less teeth clattering ache that reminded you it was there with every thrumming pulse, and he was right to say you wanted to curse him for it. You would have given anything to do just that but Wriothesley had made it clear what he expected of you. Obedience, compliance, respect.

Perhaps you should have expected no less from the reclusive Duke of Meropide but you certainly would not be making this mistake again.

“Yes, sir.” You whisper into the stillness at last, a sort of numb surprise curling over you at the lack of bite in your own voice. You’d expected to hear bitter tears, anger, defensive pride, not … such a soft, almost shaky little note of submission.

The very idea that his unjust treatment of you had somehow accomplished exactly what it was meant to chills you almost as much as it brings you a strange sense of comfort which he only further enforces by warmly caressing his unoccupied palm over the curve of your bare waist.

“Good. Then let’s get started.”

An expectant pause and then — whap!

You violently lurch, dizzy and disoriented from the sudden intensity of the impact. It was so different from his hand, so hard and unforgiving that it made your stomach feel like it was about to burst right up out of your throat. Reeling and weakly gasping in the aftermath, you futilely arch against the sting, kicking your legs out, but there’s no escaping it or shaking it off. The pain seems to engulf you all at once, making you choke on a haggard, gutted little sound. Like you couldn’t even scream around it and only whimper in breathless, mind numbing agony.

“O - one, sir.” You finally manage to rattle out to his humming satisfaction.

Whap! On the other sore cheek.

“Oh! Oh, oh, oooohhhh, n - nnghhnhn!! Two, sir …”

Whap! Back to the first. Whap! The second again.

You can’t quite formulate the words now, just laying there spread out on Wriothesley’s lap while your legs uncontrollably shake and you suck in quick, faltering thin gasps of air in an attempt to reorient yourself. It was like the sharp, oppressively heavy stroke of the wooden brush was knocking your brain around and making it hard just to remember how to breathe. Sniffling back a rush of fresh tears, however, you force your mind to stay focused in the here and now rather than drifting off to some faraway place where you currently weren’t getting your ass beat. And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Why he was making you count like this, to keep you firmly planted and present to ensure your attention didn’t start to slip at the first chance and you remained attentive for this final part of your trial. The sadistic bastard.

“Four, sir …”

Whap! Whap!

“O - oooh, gods … s - six, sir.”

Whap! Whap!

You have to take a moment to collect yourself, to breathe through the sickening pain that encompasses your backside, and he waits patiently until you eventually lift your head again. “Eight, sir.”

Whap!

“Eeekk! Ahh, ah … nine — ahhn, sir!”

Dazed and more than just a little lost in the hazy delirium swimming around your head, you slowly start to find and grasp at a tiny fraction of your inner strength. Your voice comes quicker, albeit thinner, as you hold your breath tightly over the course of the next few swats of the brush, finally seeing an end in sight just over the horizon. A few more and then you would be done. You could leave this place and never see the duke again for as long as you lived.

“Fifteen, sir!” You hear yourself blurt out, nearly sobbing in relief only to choke on it when the next swing cracks down on the opposite cheek a second later. Seething viciously, you shake for a moment before gritting out the next number. And the next.

You’re practically hysterical when you finally get to nineteen, all but blubbering across his lap, but you take the last strike like a champ, squealing a cursory, “Twenty, sir!” And then immediately giving in to the urge to dance on your toes, trying in vain to chase away some of the skin crawling ache by moving around. He leans back into the chair, just giving you a moment to process it on your own terms, before eventually loosening his arm around your middle so he can help you up. You move gingerly and wheeze through the process of getting your jelly filled legs underneath you but, at last, you find yourself standing between the wide spread of his knees and you cautiously reach back to rub your sore bottom.

You regret it immediately, hissing at the intense heat coming off the abused skin as much as the stabs of pain just brushing your fingertips against the tender area causes. But before you can truly process the full brunt of it, he takes your wrist in hand and tugs it away from your behind so he can hold it between the two of you instead.

“You’re welcome to try but it isn’t going to do much to take away any of the pain. You’ll have that reminder in the back of your mind for the next few days, any time you sit or your clothes rub against it.” A pause while he studies you with that frustratingly impassive expression, taking in your wet face, the clumps of your eyelashes where they’re sticking together, the distant look in your eyes. He takes it all in and then offers you a small, brief smile. “Are you sorry now?”

You almost choose petulant silence but, not wanting to tempt fate any further, you slowly nod your head. “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry for how I acted towards you today, and for not listening when you told me to stop. I won’t do it again.”

“Good girl.” Giving your fingers a quick squeeze, he reaches down to take hold of your hips in both of his massive hands and carefully guide you back a step so he can rise to his feet as well. “Alright, go stand in the corner. Face the wall and keep your cute bottom uncovered.”

Immediately planting your feet into the floor when he tries to nudge you in the general direction of the wall, you send him a flustered look of warning. “You said that would be the end of it.”

“It was, and you did so well for someone whom I suspect hasn’t been spanked nearly enough in her lifetime. But,” Wriothesley quickly holds up a hand to stop you when you draw a sharp, scathing breath to snap at him with. “It’s usually customary to give you a chance to further reflect on your punishment while the sting settles the rest of the way in. Besides, I need to run down to the infirmary to get a cream for your butt and you can’t very well sit down right now, can you?”

“You are infuriating!” You practically spit at him, fists clenching with the urge to reach out and punch him square in the solar plexus. “What exactly do you think this is, your grace? A fun little afternoon we’ve shared together over tea and gossip? I don’t want your stupid cream! I want to leave this place and never be forced to look upon you ever again, do you hear me?”

“Oh, I hear you loud and clear.” Wriothesley murmurs with an accompanying quirk of his brow to go along with it. “Gotta’ say though, I wasn’t expecting you to bounce right back to your earlier attitude so fast. Usually brats like you need a bit more time to recoup some of their charge after getting it all out of their system like that.”

You reel back in abject shock. “Brats like me? You have some nerve acting like I’m the problem when you just - -“

He reaches up quicker than you can react and abruptly pulls you into the front of him, one hand lifting to cradle your head against the firm, muscular wall of his body while the other curls around your back so you can’t escape. Your skin positively crawls at the contact, lips pulling back in a vicious snarl, but then … he just gently rocks you back and forth, softly petting your hair while he does it, and you go stock still in your surprise. You didn’t understand it. What he was doing or why he was doing it, and you understood even less why it almost made you feel a bit — funny inside. Tingly, almost.

“There, there,” Wriothesley murmurs, just holding you tightly enough to prevent escape but still soft enough not to smother. “Is this what you need instead? I didn’t take you for the sort but I have no problem giving it to you as long as it gets rid of that grumpy frown for a little while. You’re way cuter when you don’t look so damn mad …”

You stand there for a long beat unsure of how to react. Knowing you should kick up a fit, fight him tooth and nail, drag his name through the mud for how he’s treated you here today and yet — somehow the heat of his body, the heady scent of his muted cologne seems to drain the fight from your body. It leaves you feeling empty and hollow, and a sudden rush of emotions quickly floods in to replace it all. You don’t really understand it, nor are you entirely sure you want to, but you were a little too tired to keep up the pretense any longer. Not while there was a veritable storm whipping up inside your chest.

Eyes watering with a new, inexplicable sheen of tears, you slowly bring your hands up to clutch at his waistcoat. Maybe it would be okay if you entertained this for just another moment longer … maybe you could attack him when his guard was down after you’d finished fighting back the sobs suddenly threatening to wrack through your body. He’d chipped away at you, wiped the slate clean, so to speak, and now he was filling you back up with a comforting warmth you wouldn’t have expected from him given his icy demeanor.

You still weren’t particularly fond of his methods but at least there was some amount of peace to be found in his embrace, and you may or may not have liked it just a teeny tiny bit. Not that you’d ever admit that to Wriothesley, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. You could certainly keep the secret.

⭐

Crossposted: here

#genshin impact #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #self insert bullshit

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just-a-creep-babe · 1 year

Note

61 for the smut thing? Can you do EJ

Ooooooh so i was sUper inspired during this one, and I’m thinking bout turning it into a multiple-part fic--would y’all be interested? 👀

Lmk if you enjoy ❣️ ✨

~Requests are closed but commissions are open!~

Join my Patreon if you’d like to support me!

Masterlist: x

61. “Just…once. Please. I just need to taste you once.”

It wasn’t a secret that the hybrid had a thing for you

But you didn’t know just how badly he wanted you

Or how often he found himself thinking of you

And how often that led to him rutting his stiff cock into his fist, desperately wishing it was you beneath him instead

You knew Jack was into you

But you didn’t know he was borderline obsessed with you

He passes you down the hall on Friday night, and your scent alone is nearly enough to drive him feral

You pause in your tracks, then call out to him

“Oh, Jack!”

God, just the way you say his name has the muscles in his abdomen tensing

He turns to you

“Yeah, what’s up?”

He tries not to cringe at how husky his voice sounds—you somehow always seem to coax a deeper pitch from him, almost as if by some kind of instinct

You smile, and god, he swears you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen

“Are you free right now?”

For you? Always

“I wanna get some training done,” you continue, entirely unaware of the way his heart is beating in his chest, “but I can’t find anyone else to spar with”

“I’m free,” he blurts the words out faster than intended, but only because the thought of you sparring with someone else makes his blood boil

“Great,” you smile again, and he can feel himself getting warmer, “are you ready for it right now, or do you have to change or something?”

“Now’s fine,” he hums

He gestures for you to lead the way, which you happily oblige

You make small talk as you walk down the corridor to the gym together

He could listen to you all day

He wants to hear every possible sound that can escape your delicate little throat; your laughter, your hums, your moans, your screams

Fuck, he has to distract himself

By the time you get to the training mats, he’s already partially hard

And though they won’t be fun to work out in, he’s thankful he wore his dark jeans instead of his grey sweats—he hates the thought of making you uncomfortable just because his damn pants might betray his arousal

“You really gonna fight me in that?” you laugh, and for a split second, he’s scared you can read his mind

But then he realizes you’re talking about his oversized hoodie, and relief washes over him

Wait—are you flirting with him?

Dumb grin on his face, he shakes his head and pulls the top over his head, tossing it out of the way into the corner of the room

“That better?”

He’s shirtless beneath it, and he almost can’t help but tense his muscles to give you a bit of a show

“Mmh, yeah, I guess it’ll do~” you tease

Fuck, fuck, fuck

He forces himself to think about Jeff and BEN to hopefully ease the way his pants keep tightening around him

He wants nothing more than to inhale your scent to see if there’s any change in your hormones

Does seeing him shirtless like this turn you on—even if just the slightest bit?

But he knows he’d be done for if he focuses too much on your scent

It’s already hard enough for him to control himself around you as is

You bring your hands up either side of your face, readying your stance, and he does the same

A mutual nod is shared, indicating you’re both ready, and then you’re making the first move

You step towards him and try to throw a hook

He dodges easily, then retaliates by kicking at the foot you’ve shifted your weight to

You stumble, but only for a second before using the momentum to try for another punch, this time aimed at his stomach

Again, he sidesteps it, his instincts making him unnaturally light on his feet

He wonders if he should let you get a few hits in; he’d hate to see you train with someone else just because he so obviously outmatches you

But while he’s distracted, you take the opportunity to fake out another punch, only to spin on your heels and give him a roundhouse kick

He tries to dodge it at the last second, but combined with his previous dilemma and the fact that he’s still very much so trying to conceal a boner, you hit him right in his side

He chokes out a groan, clutching the spot you landed the blow, and while you’re ahead, you take another shot, this time at his legs

He’s just as shocked as you must be when you get the hit in

He falls to his knees, and you’re about to drop your attack stance when he reaches out and grabs your ankle

His instincts take over for a split second, and the next thing he knows, he’s on top of you, pinning you down, and the both of you are panting heavily

Well, there go his attempts at hiding his hard-on

“Jack—“

You cut yourself off when you notice the way he’s looking down at you

The air seems to grow thick

Neither of you say anything

You both just lie there, staring at each other, sweaty body on sweaty body while you try to catch your breaths

And then, it happens

He makes the fatal mistake of breathing you in

Your scent is intoxicating

As soon as he gets a whiff, he can’t help but nestle into your neck to breathe in more of you

It’s not just your sweat—you’re turned on

You want him

His pelvis digs into yours, rolling circles between your thighs

“J-Jack—“

You gasp his name, and he almost has to stop himself from biting down into your neck right then and there

He wants to claim you, brand his mark into your skin

You’re his, you’re all his

The only thing stopping him from doing that right now is his damn fucking mask

“J-Jack, stop—“

His body freezes at the command

The word stop repeats itself in his clouded, lust-drunk mind

“W-we can’t,” you swallow thickly, “we can’t do this”

“…Why not?”

Any other time, it would’ve made him cringe to hear how much of a snarl his voice sounds like

But right now, he’s so horny, he can hardly bring himself to care

“It-it’s not—we just can’t. We’re just friends”

Friends

The word stings

He wants to spit it out, tear it in half because it’s in the way of him getting what he wants

A groan escapes him, something guttural and frustrated

You can’t lie—you want him too

He knows it, he can smell it

His cock twitches, and he notices the way it has more of your delicious scent filling the room

He buries his face into your neck again, cursing his fucking mask for blocking his lips from your skin, but knowing all too well it’s probably for the better

Breathing you in again has his hips rolling into you involuntarily

He can’t help it

He doesn’t even know if he’s really in control of himself anymore, or if it’s just the demonic instincts taking over

“Jack”

You say his name again, and oh, how he wishes it meant something different

“Just…once. Please,” he chokes the words out

He’s desperate

“I just need to taste you once”

He watches you bite your lip, brows furrowed, the need evident in your eyes

It’s pathetic, he shouldn’t be begging like this

But he’s so, so fucking desperate

He’s almost surprised when you finally make up your mind and give a shy nod

But it’s more than enough of the confirmation he needs

His hands travel down your form, trying to memorize every curve of your body beneath his touch

He’s almost salivating by the time he reaches your shorts

He looks up at you one last time, like he’s asking for permission again, and when you nod once more, biting your lip, he pulls the material all the way down

He thinks he might be in heaven when your bare cunt is revealed to him

You’re so wet you’re glistening

And your scent has his head spinning—to the point where he can’t focus on anything else

He wants to take his time, good lord, he wants to savor this, but he’s too impatient for his own good

He pushes his mask up to kiss at your thighs and hips, his sharp teeth occasionally leaving teasing nicks into your soft flesh

Your hands reach out to fist at his hair, legs spreading apart just the faintest bit more

When his tongue first makes contact with your folds, he groans deeply

He must be in heaven

He’s immediately addicted, hooked on the taste of your dripping sex

He grasps your thighs, tugs your legs over his shoulder, and firmly holds you in place

When he presses his lips to your cunt, just like that, he’s gone

He loses himself entirely to you

He sucks at your clit, lapping long strokes up your slit, and circling at your entrance

The way your body reacts to him, the way your cunt clenches every time he delves further into you, all those fucking sounds you’re making for him

He wants more

He needs more, so much fucking more

You pull his hair, whimpering his name, and he has to stop himself from grinding down into the training mat beneath him

He’s so hard, it’s almost painful

But as long as he gets to keep fucking you on his tongue, he’s over the moon

He’s so lost in you that he almost fails to notice the way your thighs start shaking around him

You’re getting close, and every nudge of his lips and tongue against your clit is making you moan even louder for him

“F-fuck, Jack— Fuck!—“

Your back arches, lifting off the ground

You look like a goddess

Even as you cum, he can’t bring himself to stop

You’re moaning and squirming, writhing in the palms of his hand, and something about it is driving him absolutely feral

He snarls, pushing his tongue deeper down your sex until he can feel you clenching around him

The string of curses falling from your parted lips is like a prayer he knows he won’t forget

He only stops when you start pulling at his hair, trying to tug him off of you

You’re shaking from the overstimulation

He, on the other hand, is throbbing in his jeans

He’s never felt so desperate

He wonders if he’s on the verge of triggering a heat

He licks at his lips, tasting your arousal off of his skin

The room is filled with your scent, and your taste is on his tongue, but if it were up to him, he’d still have more

And fuck, you’re so cute when you’re all flushed and panting after your orgasm

What he wouldn’t give to be able to see you like this all the time

He sits up, and he has to tense his muscles to prevent himself from shaking with need as you fix your shorts back on

He wants to say something, anything, but he’s at a loss for words

The word friends still hangs in the dead air between the two of you

It’s just about the only thing stopping him from folding you into a mating press and filling you with his seed

You look unsteady on your feet when you pull yourself up to stand

He looks up at you, still kneeling in front of you, and all he can picture is how good you’d look sitting on his face right now

Why must you make him so insatiable?

You make up some excuse about needing to go, looking shy and flustered and bashful all at once

He wants to say something that’ll convince you to stay, but he’s way too horny to think straight

And for the first time this evening, he’s thankful he’s still wearing his mask

It’s pushed halfway up his face, but maybe that’s just enough to conceal his expression so that you can’t tell all the depraved thoughts he’s having

He’s left there, kneeling on the training mat he just ate you out on, as he watches you leave

And he thinks fuck it, he’ll make sure that won’t be the only time he gets to do that to you

#creepypasta #eyeless Jack #eyeless Jack x reader #eyeless Jack x reader smut #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x reader smut

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moonstruckme · 3 months

Note

hey queen! i am humbly requesting some tasm!peter x plus sized!reader 🛐

maybe he was coming home from patrolling/being out as spidey and saw something in a window that reminded him of reader? like a knickknack or flowers or something like that? and he comes home and gives it to her and she’s all flustered and smitten 🤭

feel free to add your own spin to it or anything! i’m just in need of fluff and hugs from my boy 🫶🏻

Thanks for requesting lovely!

tasm!Peter Parker x plus size!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Peter knows he’s got other things he should be doing. He’s technically not done with the amount of time he likes to spend patrolling every day (plus there’s a serial burglar out there he should really be trying to catch), and if he’s not doing that he should be getting home to work on the research paper he’s got due tomorrow, and if he’s doing neither of those things Aunt May’s been begging him all week to dust the shelves she can’t reach. But when you open your door and he sees the look on your face, Peter knows he made the right decision neglecting all that shit.

“Hi!” Your voice lilts through the syllable, happiness coating it like honey.

“Hey,” Peter says back, immediately losing whatever advantage he had in the conversation. You’re surprised to see him, sure, but he’s surprised to see you like this. You’re still in your pajamas, evidently enjoying a day in, a large t-shirt and draw-string shorts that make you look all lazy and adorable and leave the delicate flesh of your thighs on display. Peter wants to bite them, but that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly.

“Hey,” he says again, blinking to clear the haze from his brain. “I, uh, you said you like irises, right?”

“Yeah…” There’s a hesitant sort of question in your voice. You eye the small bunch of flowers in his hand. “Are those for me?”

Peter grins. “Who else, sweetheart?” He tacks on the endearment mostly to see you fluster. It’s a success; your arms come up to hug your torso as your cheeks dimple, smile half-suppressed.

He passes you the flowers before he can fluster too. The plastic wrap crinkles under your careful touch, and you glance between him and them like you can’t decide which to admire first.

“Thank you so much,” you say. “Did we…have something today?”

“No,” he laughs, hooking his thumb in the strap of his backpack. “No, you’re good. I was just in the neighborhood, and they made me think of you.”

Your eyes go all pretty-pleased at the comment, but you tilt your head curiously. “What do you have to do around here?”

Ah, the question he’d hoped you’d be too happy to ask. The truth is, Peter’s almost never in this neighborhood if not for you. Spiderman gets around, but there’s not usually as much going on here as in the rest of the city. He’d spotted the flowers at a stand he’d webbed a catcaller to on the lower east side, and then came over to your end of town to bring them to you. It was only, like, a ten minute swing. Much more efficient than the subway.

“Thrifting,” he says slowly. “I was, uh, just looking to update my closet a bit, and I know you’ve got a lot of good thrift stores around here.”

“Nice.” You smile, taking a little sniff of your irises. Their bright color makes your already exquisite face look even lovelier, and it’s such a perfect image Peter wishes he had his camera on him. “Can I see your finds?”

“No,” he replies. Too quickly, so he tries to look really put out to compensate for it. “No, I didn’t find anything. I’m…really picky about my clothes.”

“Oh.” Your eyes drop to his plain gray t-shirt and jeans, but thankfully you’re too nice to say anything.

“Right,” Peter blazes ahead, tugging on the straps of his backpack, “so I just wanted to bring you those, and I’ve actually got shelves to dust, so I’d better go…”

“Okay, thanks for the flowers,” you say. “They’re really pretty.”

“Yeah, I figured it must be hard being so pretty all by yourself,” he says, spinning around to walk backwards so he can see your reaction, “so I figured I’d get you a companion.”

You press your lips together, flushing and tilting your head downwards as if to hide it. “Thanks,” you almost whisper. Peter grins hugely.

You look up just as he’s turning back around, your focus narrowing on something behind him.

“Hold on a second.” Peter halts opediently, and you come outside, that t-shirt fluttering prettily around your hips. “Something’s falling out of your bag…”

He thinks to be nervous just before you pull the red and blue mask from the unzipped pocket of his backpack.

“What’s this?”

“That…” Peter’s nodding but he doesn’t know why. It’s some sort of automatic response, like he turns into a bobblehead under pressure. His mouth is void of saliva. “That’s a costume.”

Your eyebrows twitch together as one side of your mouth kicks up, like you’re not sure what to make of him. “You dress up as Spider-Man?”

The nodding turns to shaking weirdly seamlessly. “No! No, of course not, I’m an adult. It’s—it’s not for me.” You look at him expectantly. “I’m making it…for my nephew.”

“Oh.” You blink. “I didn’t know you had a nephew.”

“Really?” Peter hears his voice pitching higher, but he’s powerless to stop it. “I didn’t mention him? We’re pretty close—well, not that close. He lives…away. In Connecticut. But he wants a Spider-Man costume, and obviously he wants me to make it, because…I’m the guy for that stuff.”

You nod respectfully. “You are really good at sewing,” you say, and the look you’re giving him is so sweet it nearly takes his knees out from under him. “It’s nice of you to do that for him. You’re really thoughtful, Peter.”

You say it all soft and considerate, like it’s a secret you’re letting him in on, and Peter’s honestly worried for his heart health. He’s not sure it can take the strain of all this.

“Yeah, well, only for people I care about,” he says just as quietly.

You drop your gaze, smiling to yourself, and start tucking the mask back inside his backpack. “Your nephew must be a cool kid. I’d love to meet him sometime.”

“Yeah, maybe if he comes to town sometime.” Which will be, you know, never. But hopefully by the time it gets suspicious you’ll know enough that he can come clean with you about that.

He hears the zipper close and turns before you can move away. Peter wants desperately to wrap his arms around you, feel the softness of your body pressed up against his, but he settles for taking your hand. At the look on your face when he smiles and gives it a squeeze, you would’ve died at the alternative.

“Thanks, sweetheart.”

Your lips part. “No problem,” you breathe.

He gives your hand one more press for good measure, letting his fingers drag across yours as he steps away. “See you Friday, yeah? For dinner?”

“Yeah.” You clear your throat. “I’ll see you then.”

Peter shoots you one last grin over his shoulder, headed down the sidewalk. “Looking forward to it.”

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gingerjunhan · 10 months

Note

🧈 anon back again, and omg I loveddd the last one.

Kinda similar to the last request, but do you have any headcanons for all of xdinary heroes together taking a teenage trainee under their wing and being their biggest advocate

Like xdinary heroes is basically the readers family since they're international and have no family in Korea?

Sorry if that was alot lol, these guys are just so comforting

Please and thank you!

☆彡 I really love this idea 🧈anon. I think this low key “found family” thing you’ve got going on is really sweet! Sorry this one took longer than usual to get back to you. Hope you enjoy :)

word count: 648 (about 150 each) | pronouns used: none | genre: platonic fluff, found family? | cws: mentions of eating w/ Jungsu, not proofread

To find Gunil and Jun Han, click here!

If Gunil is going Dad Mode™️ then you already know that Jungsu is going Mom Mode™️. He checks in on you constantly, making sure you’re well taken care of.

“Did you eat yet today? Do you want me to order you something? You can gladly eat with us if you’d like!”

Mama bear Jungsu is so so proud of you at all times. He watches you learn and grow as an idol from a distance- trying not to interfere too much- and he can’t believe how quickly you’re making progress! He’s one of the first people who wants to hear about your accomplishments, and he makes sure to celebrate for you and your group and remind you all how great of a job you’re doing. Granted, he worries about you a lot, but you’re young! He would feel like he was an older brother to you, so he would always be willing to support you or stand up for you.

☆

Gaon is one of the members who makes sure you remember to take breaks. Are you free this weekend? Perfect, the guys are taking you to a movie. Need to destress? How about some video games? Gaon is here to make sure you remember that learning to be an idol can be hard, but it can also be lots of fun. If you’re stopping by during a practice, Gaon rallies you, Jooyeon, and Jun Han to have jam sessions.

“C’mon, (Y/N), join us! Strings only jam session! We might try to learn a new cover!”

Gaon would host game nights frequently, always making sure to invite you (and probably your band mates) in case you needed out of your dorm or needed a break from work. He’s a firm believer in an equal work and play balance.

☆

Protective, protective, protective!!! I am such a sucker for protective Seungmin, and you can’t tell me that he would be super protective of the young idols he takes under his wing. He has wonderful intentions, but he can take it too far. If you make a new friend he will absolutely try to find out everything he can about them to make sure they’re a good person. He would totally act as your personal security guard in public too.

“Woah, do you see that guy over there? He was totally looking at you. I better go teach him a lesson-“

Okay so he wouldn’t actually teach anyone “a lesson” but he would definitely be handing out evil glares led and right. I feel like Ode would also protect you from haters on his secret Twitter account 💀 (He absolutely has one and you cannot convince me otherwise.) At the end of the day, Ose would be your number one defender.

☆

Jooyeon can absolutely relate to you and the situation you’re in. As the youngest of the group, he knows exactly what position you’re in. He got into the idol industry decently young- not as young as you- but he still knows what it’s like to be in your shoes. I can see him being the person who would want to help you the most. He would pass on lessons that his hyungs have taught him, things he’s learned himself, and things he wishes he knew when he was at the stage you’re currently at. He would agree with Gaon on having an equal work/ play balance, but he would also encourage you to work hard, encouraging a good work ethic. I can imagine that he might’ve struggled with this? So he wouldn’t want that for you.

“How have your practices been this week? Have you gotten a lot done?”

I can also imagine Jooyeon offering to help you write lyrics or bass lines if you ever needed a hand. Asking for help can be scary, and Jooyeon would want to feel comfortable turning to him whenever you might need it.

#xdinary heroes imagine #xdinary heroes x reader #xdh x reader #xdh fluff #xdh imagines #xdh scenarios #jungsu x reader #gaon x reader #ode x reader #jooyeon x reader

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symmetricalkazekage · 1 year

Text

Story time!! I had joined Tumblr years ago after a friend showed it to me, but I never really used it. But then my lovely friend @m1dnyt3-w0lf sent me a tmnt fic and I was swept up (I had fallen in love with tmnt again at this point).

We are currently in the middle of writing our own chaptered stories, beta-reading off each other, but I wrote her this last year for new years, and I just wanted to share it. She gave me her self insert character to use, so I present to you my Leo x OC fic (the first fanfic I've written since 2016 👀).

Feel free to change the name as you read, and please leave me critique.

Also tagging @turtle-babe83 and @thelaundrybitch because I really like your writing and you kinda got me back into writing 😖🙏🏽

The holiday season, Christmas. Just like all the previous years it had come and gone all too quickly. Eventually to a point where you didn’t even feel the holiday cheer anymore, all the while people around you were all festive. Your Christmas was spent working overtime, extra shifts, over 2 jobs. You didn’t really have anyone to spend the holidays with anyway, so you kept your self busy by working, sometimes pulling all-nighters. Everyone, coworkers and customers alike always asked the same question, “Why are you working, it’s Christmas!”; your answer always being that you could use the extra money coming into the new year. You always received pitiful looks, but you were numb to them now.

You were mopping the floors of the diner at your second job, finally closing after the late evening rush. Your mind flooded back to 6 years ago, to when you were kicked out of your home and your family. You were always the odd duckling in the family, but when you started bringing up that you wanted to pursue full time work instead of college, you were immediately thrown out. Everything you owned tossed into the snow, which wasn’t much. A “Good luck” was all you got from them. You had couch surfed for the few months left of high school before you graduated. A month later you landed a job in a warehouse that paid it employees’ good money. 2 years later everyone who helped you was repaid and you had moved into a small apartment somewhere in lower Manhattan in New York. You got a transfer to a closer warehouse and managed to picked up a night job at a diner 2 blocks away from home. It was a struggle at first, but now, everything was so natural to you. You smiled wryly to yourself in bitter triumph.

‘See, I can succeed without college,’ you muttered into the space.

‘Well, you’ve definitely proven that.’

Fight mode kicked in; you spun around swinging the mop with you ready to beat a bitch down! You relaxed when you saw your manager Jenny standing there with a grin and a bag.

‘Oh crap, sorry Jenny!’ you yelled frantically dropping the mop and fumbling with the handle.

‘At ease Ashley, I came to tell you that you can go home now. You’re already here 3 hours passed your finish time,’ she smiled taking the mop from you, ‘and I am more than capable to finish up here.’

‘It’s okay I’m nearly done anyway,’ you said reaching for the mop, only to have it pulled form your grasp.

‘I’m serious, missy. You worked through Thanksgiving and Christmas; its New Year’s Eve and you’re still working!’

‘It’s not a bother honestly!’ You tried to protest, but she just shook her head. You watched her walk behind the counter with the mop, only to trade it with your bag and winter jacket.

‘But it bothers me, do you really not have anyone waiting for you tonight?’ Your phone pinged answering her question. ‘Ah, so there is a someone is there?’ she winked.

You pulled out your phone. ‘Nope, just the phone company letting me know my bill is due next week.’

‘Aw, that’s a shame. You’re such a pretty girl, you really need a boyfriend.’

You just laughed as you pulled your coat on and headed for the door, wishing your boss a happy new year. The cold New York wind hit you as you headed home. Its not like you wanted to be alone, you just kept everyone at a distance for safety. Well, almost everyone. You looked up to the sky, watching the snow begin to fall again. You weren’t surprised when you saw a giant figure bound from roof to roof under the cover of darkness, it also didn’t surprise you when you saw the figure stop on the corner of your apartment building. So, he’s here again, is he?

You walked into your apartment, placing your bag on the couch. You stood there for five minutes before thinking “what the hell” and headed to your window, climbing back out into the frigid air and up the fire escape. You were puffing and heaving by the time you reached the roof, why am I doing this again?

‘Need a hand?’ That’s why.

You looked up to the face of the smooth voice. Of course, he would be here, it had become religious at this point.

‘Thank you, Leonardo,’ you said breathless reaching for his hand. It always astounded you just by the sheer size different. You knew you were short, but standing next to him, definitely made you feel it. And it made you mad. ‘Do you have to be that fucking tall?'

‘Do you have to ask that same question every time we meet?’ he laughed.

‘Yes. I. Do!’

He laughed again, and you melted inside. It was like music, and you felt blessed every time you heard it. And that smile, made your knees weak on sight. He followed behind you to the other side of the building where a table and chairs sat, mainly for those that hung their washing during the hot days. You set your still hot food down on the table top before you turned and leant against it. Looking up, you jumped a little to see Leonardo standing close to you. His brilliant blue eyes glowing in the low light of the night.

‘Why are you here again Leonardo, I’m sure you have better things to do.’ You didn’t mean it to sound so dejected, but that’s how you were feeling.

‘Crime’s been slow since it’s New Years. And how many times have I told you to call me “Leo”?’ he shifted closer ever so slightly.

‘I’ve lost count at this point.’ You turned your head to the side, he wasn’t even that close, but you could still feel the heat radiating off his body. ‘Also how are you not cold, aren’t you a reptile?’

‘Donnie says its because of the mutagen, Raph says its because the stress keeps me running, and Mikey says and I quote “It’s because you’re too hot to handle dude!” so I really don’t know.’ He laughed again, but from the corner of your eye you watched his shoulders slump.

‘What’s up?’ you asked walking around the table.

‘It doesn’t bother you that I’m a mutant?’ he asked.

Not this again. ‘No, it doesn’t.’

‘I don’t scare you?’ his head dropped; he was no longer looking at you.

‘No, you don’t. why are we doing this again?’ food forgotten, your face scowled. You could never understand his self-sabotage. It was completely on accident that you had seen him and his brothers, you were just chilling on the roof when they dropped in. You were surprised at first, but you simply tossed them some chocolate and wished them a good evening before disappearing back into your building. Since then, Leonardo had made it his goal to annoy you, visiting almost every night. Originally, he said it was to make sure you wouldn’t say anything to anyone. But now, he had probably listed every excuse in the book to be where he is now. At first it bothered you, but then, you began to warm up to him. And eventually, you heart had decided that he was the one it wanted.

“…do you really not have anyone waiting for you tonight?” echoed through your mind as you stared at the giant turtle in front of you. The longer you stared, the harder it was for you to hide the blush that was forming; even harder to resist the smile that was forming at the corner of your lips. I actually do this time. You didn’t wait for his answer, you just scooped up the snow into a ball and threw it at his face.

‘If I was scared of you, I wouldn’t have done that…’ you said triumphantly at his stunned face, ‘or… THIS!!’ you threw another snowball at his face, your smile full of sass and devious planning; your heart flipping with glee. New Year’s resolution: be happy for me for once. ‘So, what are you gonna do about it, Le-o-nar-do?’

He blinked before he wiped the snow off his snout, wiping away any self-doubt; replacing it with the most evil grin you’d seen on his face. It made you shiver with delight. He didn’t say anything, he just charged for you at full speed. You dodged him, skidding under the water tank. You quickly made another snow ball ducking out and pegging it at the back of his head. It hit him square, and you watched him shiver; snow must’ve gone down his shell. He turned on you again, giving you no chance to make more ammo. You ducked back under the tank backing out the other end with more snow in your hand. You ran out into the open with the new ball and turned ready to throw; but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen. Your eyes scanned every inch of the roof, stepping as quietly as you could with your guard up.

‘Boo.’

You spun and went to throw your weapon, but he was much faster, catching your arm like it was nothing. You dropped the winter ball; time seeming to stop around you as you stood mere inches from each other. The height difference meant you had to crane your neck to see him, but it didn’t seem to bother you this time. He lowered your arm, but his grip didn’t leave you; instead he began to gently massage small circles into your wrist. Those small motions made your heart race as you instinctively moved closer, as did he. You both began breathing heavily, creating smalls could between you from your hot breath. You both just stood there staring, in silence, as the world around you began the countdown into the new year.

‘What’s your resolution?’ you asked.

He smiled, pulling you in with his free hand and slowly dipping down. ‘To make you mine,’ your heart skipped, ‘what’s yours?’

‘To be happy,’ you whispered.

He chuckled softly, ‘Sounds good.’

‘And to kiss you finally.’

Before he could say anything, you reached up on your toes and planted a kiss against his warm lips. He froze for a moment, clearly shocked. You starting to thinking it was a bad idea, but you felt him lean in closer, pulling you flush with him. The world around you was full of cheers and “happy new year’s” as you kissed on the rooftop, feeling the happiest you had ever felt in many years.

When you finally parted, you were both dazed and breathless. He smiled down at you as you shied away into his chest, embarrassed that you had to be the one to initiate. He just laughed at you, resting his chin on your head as he wrapped you in his arms.

‘Happy New Year, Ashley,’ he whispered.

‘Happy New Year, Leo,’ you whispered back.

#leonardo #leo x oc #tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt bayverse #tmnt fic #tmnt fluff #new year

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moonjxsung · 1 month

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hi star i kinda disappeared for a while, i'm sorry about that. but i wanted to quickly drop by just to tell you how extremely loved you are on this blog. you are loved by me, fellow anons, silent followers, and so much more. i am so genuinely happy that i'm blessed enough to call you my friend (and my gf and wife at the same time shhhh). even if we don't talk every single day, i have no doubt that your love and my love is genuine, and i think SO many other people can relate. your name really fits you because you truly do shine like a star. you're OUR star, and that's the best part about it all. you're our star and we get to love you and know you. that's so amazing, isn't it? i always get so excited when you text me (except that one time you scared me oops) and i literally have thought to myself "okay don't answer immediately you'll look cooler" HELPME. we are always cheering for you from afar, and you will always have a safe place with us just like we do with you. you're more than an author on tumblr. you're our friend. someone we trust, someone we know, someone we love. i like to believe we crossed paths for a purpose, and even if it won't last forever, you still have left a star shaped hand print on my heart, and i will always be blessed to know you. on another note, there's a lunar eclipse soon (and luckily i don't have to travel for it) and i will be doing spellwork. i will be thinking of you and sending you all the protection and self loving energy i can. i love you, star. genuinely, thank you for all you've done for me and others. you really are a bright star, and you're our bright star. blessed to know you, more blessed to love you. 🦢🩷⭐️

- 🦢

I saw this message at the early hours of the morning and then when I went to sleep I thought I dreamt it and imagine the smile on my face when I navigate to my inbox and it was real ! it was not in fact a silly little gay dream. I’m so lucky

my swan!!!! my angel and the light of my life and the most beautiful, talented, smart, poetic girl I know. what an honor it is to have crossed paths with you in the fleeting spaces of internet blogs and kpop communities alike. I still remember our first few message exchanges like the back of my hand, your aversion to my terrible “flirt with every single one of my anons” habit and the way I’d flirt with you ten times harder in return just for the hell of it. never had I considered you’d become so near and dear to me, and the way you’ve so quickly occupied the little spaces of my mind where poetry and art and all things beautiful live has felt like the most natural occurrence of all. like you’ve always belonged there!

I love waking up to all your anon messages, to your discord chats of jilix edits and voice memos and virtually seeking shelter with you during passing tornados. you’re just as much a safe space to me and I am eternally grateful the stars crossed the way they did for us to find each other.

please know that I am forever changed by the person you are, by all of our interactions and the kindness you continue to bestow upon me no matter how many times we’ve talked. hearing that you keep me in all of your best wishes and spellwork is always a reminder that there are lovely people in this world like yourself, and I’m beyond lucky to know one, no matter the distance between us. lucky to know you, lucky to love you and luckiest to be graced with your sweet messages. In case you haven’t gathered it from my novel-length letter already, I love you !

also pls feel free to respond at the speed of light whenever you want I genuinely don’t think there’s a single thing that could make me view you as uncool. ur just the coolest girl around

#🦢 anon #ask #<3

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cosmicdream222 · 2 months

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im literally kicking myself in the foot for not doing something more worthwhile with my existance... i never knew of manifesting until recent years and while society likes to say its never too late sometimes it feels like that is it too late cause to learn any skill you have to have already learnt the techniques then have good practice abilities on top of it, like you cant just waltz into a sport for instance and take a gold medal you have to do it step by step but to do that again im fucking regretting so much rn cant i just bash my head into a wall and slowly die? or music for instance cant just pick an instrument and be good at it right off the bat again shouldve just fucking picked something and stuck with it

also i never had the likes of tiktok or anything internet for entertainment when i was a kid so in a way it shouldve been perfect chance to really do smth but as always situations got in the way and im regretting existing a lot rn. like why so many ppl so good at their niches or whatever it is they choose to do and theres so much more available now than there was back then but i cant seem to pick a single damned thing that i could realistically do at my age and still feel accomplished bc id just end up feeling behind or regretting not doing it sooner

sorry for ranting abt myself there just if only there was time machine or a literal realistic way of shifting to another damned reality cause this aint it like why im wasting so much of it doing fck all? it should be shameful honestly but like at the same time its kind of impossible with current economy being so crappy

for instance if u want to own a business (which i would do if i could even afford one with my own money but then u got to ha e the job and the know how on running it) seriously my ancestors had so many more things that were successful in their lives and some did have businesses bc shops were affordable back then, education used to be affordable too and housing etc etc. id be more inclinced to then have a family of my own if that were the case but it is not soooooooooooooo then its like even if you want a bog standard job it can still take months just to get something basic. i once did manage to manifest a free bus ride and my teacher not coming to college for a few days but thats abt it. other than that lifes kinda average sadly its not the 1950s and elvis is still dead asf.............. not fair

the other thing that puzzles me and sorry for making this so long but if we are supposed to have had past lives a) why havent we known about it before now and b) how come some celebs dont reincarnate or do the celebs that pass away just get a free pass to heaven and decide to stay put? (in which case i wont blame them but its also not fair that i have to still exist... or fail to exist i should say)

My dude, I understand where you’re coming from and I have been where you are. But you say you wish there was a way to travel back in time or shift realities - there IS a way to shift realities, travel back in time, and live whatever kind of life you want. Seriously. That is the whole reason I created this blog!! So please read through all the information I’ve collected instead of just complaining ok? 😭

All of that stuff you mentioned about your current reality is an illusion. Time is an illusion. It does not matter what you’ve done in the past. The economy does not matter. Your present circumstances do not matter. Past lives only exist if you believe they do.

Look around tumblr at void, loa and shifting success stories. I have shared many of my favorites. People in very difficult circumstances have regularly completely change their lives overnight, wake up in new houses, shift to alternate realities, change their genders, change their ages, bring people back from the dead, to say the very least.

None of it matters because we live in the literal matrix - a VR simulation - and you can have anything you want NOW.

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dominoxsquad · 2 years

Text

Hey remember this post? I finally wrote that scene. Will more than likely write more for this later but for now, enjoy.

Zeb glanced up at the sound of familiar footsteps as they approached. Kal was there, passing by a few yards away from where Zeb stood leaning against a guard rail, completely oblivious to anything outside of the datapad he was looking at.

“Kal!” He called, startling the other into stopping and looking around. Zeb waved. That got his attention. Kallus waved back and changed course, walking over to settle himself against the rail next to Zeb.

“Gave me a bit of a scare. Didn’t notice you were standing here.”

“Maybe just keep your nose outa the datapad while you’re walkin’?” That got a laugh from the human. Zeb couldn’t help the grin that spread across his own face at hearing the sound.

“Unfortunately, I need to get this done as soon as possible. I’ve been taken off the latest mission which means I need to pass on all my information to my replacement.”

“Taken off-“ Zeb’s ears flattened against his skull and he let out an annoyed huff. “Thought they’d got past the whole distrustin’ thing.”

“No, no it’s not that.” Zeb didn’t miss the soft chuckle that escaped the shorter man. “It’s just… my old ISB uniform no longer fits me. And all the others we have are for far shorter frames. I can’t say I’m upset about it. The thought of wearing that again had been…”

Kallus shuddered. Zeb could imagine how unpleasant that would be. To have to go back undercover when he’d finally gotten free…

“Still, it’s funny. I hadn’t even noticed I’d changed that much.”

“Really? It’s hard not to.”

“Oh?” Zeb turned away when Kallus shot him a less than pleased look. He knew Kal couldn’t tell his face was getting warm, but that didn’t make him any less embarrassed. Of all the things to have said… Well. He could still salvage it. Probably.

“Yeah. I mean, it might be more obvious to me. Since, y’know, I knew ya before. Y’ look good now. Stronger. And you feel it too. Gettin’ hard to beat you in our sparrin’.” Zeb rambled on, losing track of whatever point he’d been trying to make. “An’ it’s not just with the fillin’ out. Yer eyes look brighter too. Like ya want to be alive.”

The sound of Kallus laughing snapped him back to reality. Karabast… he hadn’t meant to say that last part out loud… At least Kal didn’t seem upset by it. No, instead he seemed quite pleased, having brought the datapad up to his face in what seemed like an attempt to hide a weak blush.

“I should be flattered that you’ve paid such close attention to my body, Garazeb.”

Well. He’d already come this far. No point in wasting the chance to shoot his shot. Zeb moved his arm to circle Kallus’s waist and leaned in close, careful to leave an opening for the other to get away should he wish to.

“Y’know…” Zeb started, his voice a low growl, “I’d be happy to pay closer attention, if you wanted.”

“Garazeb!” Kallus jumped, face going a deep red all the way down his neck. Right as he did his comm went off. “Kriff, I need to- I- I’m already late.”

Zeb watched as he stumbled away, head tilting as he watched the other fumble for the comm before freezing.

“But… I could- I could take you up on that offer. Later. If we’re both free.” With that Kallus was gone, no less red in the face than he was before as he answered his comm.

Zeb couldn’t help but let out a pleased chuckle. Honestly he hadn’t expected that to actually work. He just hoped they’d both actually be free for it later…

#not sfw-ish #kalluzeb #my writing #oops forgot to link the post. its fixed now

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riverlethe · 2 years

Photo

(via Sailor Moon Usagi GIF - Sailor Moon Usagi Balancing Pen - Discover & Share GIFs)

Fic Authors Self Rec

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love! 💖

Thanks to @areptiledysfunction1107 for the tag!

Here are mine, in no particular order.

1. Once More, with Feeling! This is my ongoing WiP, a re-write of the Dark Kingdom arc in which Usagi and Mamoru begin dating before learning each other’s alter egos, and then navigating a relationship in secret afterwards. It’s mostly Manga-canon from Mamoru’s perspective, and I took some liberties with Mamoru’s psychometry and plot. There’s angst-galore (who doesn’t love angst?) but also plenty of tenderness and romance.

I purposely didn’t age them up because I am a sucker for the “high school sweethearts thing” (yes, she is in Jr High, but you know what I mean) so while their relationship is very physical, (as teens tend to be), there is nothing explicit.

This was my foray into writing, if you will, because I needed a mental distraction from my health care worker job during COVID back in 2021. OMwF! has changed so much since I originally started posting it, and I just couldn’t be prouder of it considering it is my very first fanfiction, even if a few of my other stories were posted first.

Rated M

2. Home My Day 2 Contribution to UsaMamo week 2021 was supposed to be about Post-Stars Usa and Mamoru while he is at Harvard for his Study Abroad 2.0, but the story took itself in another direction. What was originally intended as a sweet story about how Usagi is “Home” for Mamoru, instead transformed into an emotional Usagi-centric introspection about the events of Stars.

And I just love it. All aboard the Feels Bus!

Rated T

3. Interlude Full discloser, this story was written for 2 reasons: 1. Because of a discussion on the Moonlight Legends Discord back in August or Sept of 2021 in which we lamented the lack of Dark Endymion and Usagi/Sailor Moon fics, and 2. Because I wanted to push myself out of my M-rated comfort zone and write some actual smut for the first time.

Now, for some, the smut-level of this story is still pretty low (I referred to it as “Diet Smut” when I originally posted it), as it wasn’t overly explicit. But when I reworked it a bit for @dendyweek, I did make it a tad more explicit. I also made the story a better a companion for another I wrote later called Consequences, a Princess D Masquerade fic inspired by @areptiledysfunction1107′s Deja Vu (and posted with her approval) that became an unintended prequel to “Interlude” (funny how that happens)

Rated E

4. What Dwells Within My Day 4 contribution for @dendyweek 2022. I really wanted to try my hand at a psychological horror inspired piece, and I had so much fun writing it. As we move further and further away from Dendy Week I find myself wishing I had done even more with this concept, perhaps even a short multi-fic, but I am so very proud of this story as it is.

Rated T

5. The Morning and Evening Star My Day 1 contribution to @sailormoonrarepairweek is all about Sailor Venus!

SilMil Venus makes an interesting proposal to Kunzite to blow off some steam, and the rest is history. While I don’t have anything against any ships involving the senshi, I just don’t really ship them with anyone. But if I did have to choose one SenShi pairing, it would be Venus/Kunzite.

This could very well be the only non-UsaMamo story I write, and I love how it turned out.

Rated E

Tagging @goddessalthena @moonchildoh8 as many others I know have already been tagged, but please feel free to share your own favs! This is open tagging! I don’t know everyone who writes, so please introduce yourself and your works!

#Sailor Moon #Usagi #Balancing Pen #tumblr games #sailor moon fanfiction #fanfiction

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sharpth1ng · 11 months

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If confliction is the air I breath then your fanfiction is O2 and I love it, the newest chapter of such a compelling story has me engulfed in its storm and I wish to weather it till the death of rain subsides to bring life to spring!

The first half of the chapter turned me into a tree for how hard I was rooting for everyone, in spite of knowing what was to come and what had already passed, throughout the entire story I couldn't help but cheer each side on, from wanting Sidney & Tatum to live, to wanting Stu & Billy to stick together through whatever will happen next, but an eye for an eye makes the world go blind and I'm afraid the universe has run out of glasses,

There is such a staggering difference between knowing Tatum was going to die, and reading it happen, what a joyfully conflicting feeling I felt crop up in this little garden of mixed emotional seeds

(I theorise that lightning might strike the garage door and she gets back up Frankenstein's monster style! or, that she's just severely injured and not dead, though these might be my own biased hopes fjfjfjjf Tatum deserves a girlfriend, as a lil snack for all she has to go through)

You've done such an incredible job at showcasing the complexity of everyone in this!

It is Alberto Giacometti that says "the object of art is not to reproduce reality, but to create a reality of the same intensity" and what a passionate chapter Friday the 13th was!

The words you have interlaced as masterfully as any basket-weaver is one of a most intense darkness brightened in shocking intervals by a flashing light, a thunderstorm of a story obscured by the transient blaze of lightning

You have done such a stunning job at making a reality of the same intensity as the movies, a terrarium of a world you have built that I want to shake into a smoothie

In layman's terms, thank you for another splendid chapter, the straight sex was funny and sad, like if a looney tunes character was despressed, the fluff with billy was cotton candy sugar-spun sweet!

Whether this storm of a story takes a turn or lightens up I know for a fact that, it will be great either way!

Oh goodness if I’m not mistaken you’ve sent me one of your incredibly poetic reviews in the past and might I just say? What a delicious meal you’ve served me.

“The first half of the chapter turned me into a tree for how hard I was rooting for everyone”

10/10. No competition

Also oHMYGOD THANK YOU FOR POINTING OUT THAT CHAPTER 13 HAPPENS ON FRIDAY. LIKE. I DIDNT MEAN TO DO THAT BUT I CANNOT EXPRESS HOW SATISFYING IT IS TO ME.

Also? Describing the straight sex as if a looney toons character was depressed? Flawless. Real.

I won’t give spoilers but I will say that the ending of this fic is going to diverge quite a bit from the movie, just not always in obvious ways. Some of those changes won’t be revealed until the sequel, but there absolutely will be hints in the upcoming chapters. A storm it will be indeed.

Anyways, thank you again for this, please always feel free to send me messages like this they really make my day!

#blessed anon #debaser fanfic #ask

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sadprosed · 3 years

Text

𝑺𝑪𝑬𝑵𝑨𝑹𝑰𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑶𝑴𝑷𝑻𝑺.

↬ OF MERMAIDS, MASQUERADES AND MAGIC.

scenarios inspired by various settings, encounters & magic tucked between pages, fashioned by the author. tw for drowning mentions.

+ feel free to change pronouns / roles !

MERMAIDS.

‘ beyond the winds and past the shores, strange magic lurks about. ’

‘ will you go to the lagoon with me ? it’s unsafe to go alone. ’

‘ they say a siren’s call alone can drown a man before she swallows him. ’

‘ quick ! cover your ears. ’

‘ what did you imagine as you heard the song ? ’

‘ i can feel a voice like claws sinking beneath my skin. ’

‘ one can pray to the ocean, but the waters answer in strange tongues. ’

‘ careful, or we’ll hit the reef. ’

‘ the sea-folk are flighty as their fins, and illusive as shimmering scales. ’

‘ i should like to find myself a sailor fit for a feast. ’

‘ sometimes i wish there was more than the endless waves. ’

‘ do you see that ? there, beneath the surface ? ’

‘ that’s no fish, and no woman either. ’

‘ what lies off the edge of the map ? ’

‘ the sea has monsters, but beauties too. ’

‘ i’ve heard that merfolk make bargains, and trade in the ocean’s magic. ’

‘ i’ve never seen a pearl like this one. ’

‘ the ship will go down if we don’t turn about ! ’

‘ what is that, out there on the rocks ? ’

‘ won’t you listen to my song ? ’

‘ mermaids love shiny things. keep a careful eye on yours. ’

‘ if we hide in the kelp, we might see them as they pass. ’

‘ i’ve heard the tales. to catch you means to gain a granted wish. ’

‘ i’ve never seen your likeness, only heard the myths. ’

‘ come with me, beneath the sea and foam, and be mine. ’

‘ some of us live in the ocean, others in rivers and streams and even trees. ’

‘ falling in love with a human is an old tale. tell me a new one. ’

‘ so you gave up your fin for legs ? ’

‘ soon i will be nothing but seafoam. ’

‘ what is a heart, but an ocean of secrets ? ’

‘ you’d let yourself be undone and remade for someone you’ve never known. that is not love. ’

‘ let your dreams sink to the depths. they’ve done you no good. ’

MASQUERADES.

‘ i’ve never seen so many unfamiliar faces. ’

‘ he’s / she’s / they’ve been looking at me all evening. ’

‘ would you do me the honor of a dance ? ’

‘ neither of us need know the other tonight. i prefer the mystery. ’

‘ your choice of costume is rather extravagant. ’

‘ what fun would it be, if i took this off ? ’

‘ i’m certain we’ve met before. ’

‘ i’ve always longed for a night like this. it’s something out of a dream. ’

‘ won’t you come away with me ? there’s a balcony just outside. ’

‘ i’m inclined to think we’ve never met before, and perhaps will never meet again after tonight. ’

‘ you look like you know how to waltz. care to ? ’

‘ i must stand up with someone this evening, and i don’t see why it can’t be you. ’

‘ would you stop staring so intently ? what do you think to find ? ’

‘ i’ll stop bothering you if you agree to dance with me. ’

‘ please take it off. i want to see you. ’

‘ i’ve never been to a masque before. ’

' it seems our attire makes opposites of us. ’

‘ i’ve never seen a more hideous costume than that one. ’

‘ i can’t stay much longer. you see, i’m not supposed to be here at all. ’

‘ you’ll never know who i am. ’

‘ people like you always make a fool of me. ’

‘ oh. i thought you were someone else. ’

‘ i’ll give you three chances to guess who i am. ’

‘ the next time i offer you my hand, you’ll get more than a dance from me. ’

‘ i’ve wanted to dance beneath stars like these for as long as i can remember. ’

‘ what do you look like ? ’

‘ that look in your eyes tells me all i need to know. ’

‘ you won’t like what you’ll see. ’

‘ i recognize your voice. ’

‘ you’ll know the truth before the night is up. ’

‘ i’ve heard the darkest of dances are the best for falling in love to. ’

‘ you don’t know it now, but we’re friends already. ’

‘ can’t we pretend a little while longer ? ’

‘ it’s when the party is over that we learn to know each other most. ’

‘ happily ever after can’t come so easily as a single night dancing. ’

MAGIC.

‘ i’ve caught you. you have to undo the spell for me now. ’

‘ think carefully before asking for something well beyond the reach of mortal power. ’

‘ i think i know a spell for that. ’

‘ i can’t help you. but there are people in other worlds, in the moors and hills and trees, that might. ’

‘ you must gather the necessary ingredients for such a potion. ’

‘ true love is never the answer to the riddle. not when so much as life and death is at stake. ’

‘ i’ve found and made my way here by right. you can’t deny me the answers i seek. ’

‘ be warned: monsters hide between the trees and whisper in magic tongues. ’

‘ it always makes a fraction of sense to be careful what you wish for. ’

‘ i’ve been turned into an unsightly creature, and i need a way of turning back. ’

‘ not all magical stories happen in castles, or cottages in the wood. ’

‘ preposterous. magic and sorcery do not exist but in the minds of superstitious fools. ’

‘ get back from that cauldron ! it’s dangerous. ’

‘ i don’t mess with things like candles and the stars and the moon after dark. it never ends well. ’

‘ i am something ancient. my name has been forgotten by mortal mouths and is found only in their oldest texts. ’

‘ not all fairy helpers are kind, and not all villains are ugly, or even cruel. ’

‘ if you want my help, you must earn it. ’

‘ is this something i could learn ? ’

‘ i don’t want to be ordinary, and i don’t care what the risks are. ’

‘ you think to put a curse on me ? i will spend my life defying it. ’

‘ stay back, witch, and keep your spells from sneaking past your lips. ’

‘ you must chain a magician in more than metal or rope if you wish to stop them. ’

‘ that’s a parlor trick. show me real magic. ’

‘ only you can break the spell. it is something you are meant for. ’

‘ fate is nothing but an illusion placed in our heads, that we might follow the words of others and not our own intentions. ’

‘ whatever has brought me here, i cannot turn back now. ’

‘ soon the clock will strike, and nothing more might be done. ’

‘ magic requires taking in order to give. it will keep demanding parts of you. ’

1K notes · View notes

mercy-burning · 3 years

Text

Myth or Movie

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Unbeknownst to the two of them, Y/N and Spencer's children have worked up a plan to get them to meet... Category: SMUT (18+) Content: Strong language, oral sex (female receiving), penetrative/unprotected sex, someone is misgendered (nothing too bad, it’s very brief, and it’s sincerely apologized for by the person who misgenders) Word Count: 4.2k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: This is my 2nd entry for Pom’s ( @imagining-in-the-margins ) Enemies To Lover’s Writing Challenge! This one was one of the prompts she provided: You and (Character)'s kids don't get along, so you have to have a talk. Turns out you... really really get along... and I couldn’t wait to tackle it! I believe my exact words were: “I’m gonna Parent Trap these bitches”... So do with that what you will lol

———

"I'm so sorry I'm late!"

Two heads turn to stare at me as I burst through the doors. I'm out of breath from running through the building, something the staff really didn't seem to appreciate, though their shouts and annoyed glances were the last thing on my mind.

As I try to catch my breath, the two heads stand, and suddenly I feel a lot smaller.

One of them I recognize— Principal Anteros. I'd met with her before over some of Sky's academic achievements, all positive things, which is why today's circumstances make being in this office rather uncomfortable.

It's also why I seem to shrink with embarrassment at my tardiness— and appearance. Waitressing has its benefits, but today's whirlwind of phone calls and a mention at meeting another parent are not any of them.

Speaking of, the other person in the room is one I've never seen before. He's taller than both Anteros and I, extremely well dressed, and probably the most intimidatingly beautiful human being I'd ever met. I can barely meet his eyes, and so I try not to think about what he's doing here—to think about having to talk to him.

I shrink even further.

"Ms. Y/L/N," Principal Anteros greets. Thankfully she doesn't sound too upset given the circumstances. "Please, have a seat."

I do, brushing off my uniform as if that will somehow help my appearance. The soft leather of the chairs, however comfortable they might be, fail to bring me any comfort at all.

"As I'm sure you've guessed already, this is Doctor Reid, Vivian's father."

Great, he's a fucking doctor? This already bodes well for me...

Regardless of my reservations, I turn to him and give a faint smile. He waves in turn, and for the time being I'm extremely glad he doesn't insist on shaking my hand.

"It's nice to meet you," he says, surely nothing but a formality.

"You, too," I say quickly, then turn back to Principal Anteros. "Your phone call sounded urgent... Is everything alright?"

As soon as I say it, I feel kind of dumb. Because of course everything isn't alright. My child's principal called a meeting with another parent, and that can never mean anything good, not to mention the fucking intimidation and awkwardness in the room right now. I almost apologize, trying to explain that that wasn't exactly what I meant to get across, but then I would have just been talking for way too long, embarrassing myself further.

Once again, I'm thankful for Anteros's ability to move the conversation along. "I'm not sure, but it doesn't seem so. I only bring this to attention because Sky and Vivian are both stellar students. They've never had any disciplinary issues or difficulties with other students..."

"No one's hurt, right?" Mr. Reid asks. I know he's just concerned for his child, but for some reason it feels like an attack on me, like he assumes my kid had something to do with it.

"No, no one's hurt. Thankfully there weren't any physical altercations. But it seems your girls are quite... loud."

The doctor looks like he wants to say something, but I'm quick to jump in before he can. "Sorry... Sky is non-binary. They use they/them pronouns."

I half expect one or either of them to make a big deal or just roll their eyes at me, as most people seem to do when I correct them on the matter, but Anteros gives a sincere apology and Reid probably couldn't have cared any less.

I still can't tell if I like him or not...

But that doesn't matter right now.

"What do you mean by loud?" I continue.

Anteros sighs. "Well, while there hasn't been any physical violence, your kids seem to have very heated arguments, usually during lunch or in the hallway in passing... We thought maybe we could resolve it here since, like I said, they're both excellent students, but then it started escalating to classroom arguments... It's a lot of screaming..."

I have never known Sky to raise their voice at anyone, not even in a situation where I probably would have. Lord knows I'm thankful they don't have my impatience and tendency to get pissed off easily...

So what happened that was so bad, it made them snap?

"You... You're sure you mean Vivian is acting out like this?" Reid asks slowly, and I can't stop myself from laughing out loud.

"Come on, she's a professional. This has been going on for weeks, in her school, I'm sure she would know if it was your kid having a screaming match with someone else..."

This time Doctor Reid actually looks over at me, an eyebrow raised, and though I very much believe what I've just told him, the way he's looking at me right now drops my heart straight down to my stomach, like he's the principal and I'm the student acting out—No, it's worse than that... I feel like he's a disappointed parent, but not with Vivian, with me.

I avoid his intimidating stare and look down at the ground. "Sorry... I'm just... This isn't like Sky, either, I don't know what to do..."

"Well, usually when we have these sort of disputes, we like to have the students talk it out amongst themselves with a moderator present. But we've tried that, and it seems that they still haven't made any progress. Now, I know your children are good at heart, and it seems like you both are excellent parents— You know your children better than anyone here ever could. So, I'm proposing the two of you take a meeting some time and try to figure out how to settle this."

Seriously? If it hasn't been made clear already, this man is a doctor of some kind, planets away from my league in any capacity, and I can just picture the two of us in a screaming match close to what I imagine our children's looked like...

Maybe we can just e-mail.

"Okay," he agrees evenly, and I'm surprised he seems this calm considering I've just practically yelled at him... "I have free time this afternoon if you want to talk it over."

"I have to get back to work, but I get done at five," I sigh, wanting to get this over with. "Are you free then?"

"Mhm."

"Good," Anteros chirps, standing and leaving Doctor Reid and I to follow suit. "Perhaps over the weekend we can get this settled."

I sure as hell hope so.

———

"Ms. Y/L/N, wait!"

I have no idea what he could possibly want from me now that we've set a time and place to talk tonight, but I'm just praying desperately that he doesn't want to take this time alone in the parking lot to get back at me for accosting him in Anteros's office...

Thankfully, his face when he approaches seems rather kind.

"You can call me Y/N..."

"Right," he says, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets and nodding. "I'm Spencer."

"Spencer... So, um... Did you need something?"

"O—Oh, I just... I know you have to get back to work so I'll make this short, but I wanted to see if you wanted to do, uh... dinner tonight?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I just figured since we probably didn't expect for our weekend to go this way... We should make it worth it?"

"Are you really trying to turn this into a date?"

"W— No, not really, I just... You know, I thought it might be nice to... make this less like a chore, you know? A—And don't feel like you have to say yes, it was just a thought, I'm sorry if I made this weirder..."

The fact that I still can't figure this man out bothers me, but right now he's blushing, and he looks like he's trying to save himself from embarrassment, and it's so fucking adorable that I don't really care that I was just annoyed.

So I tell him, "Sure. Why not?"

"Really?"

"Yeah... Besides, Lord knows I haven't gone out for dinner in a long time."

The doctor is relieved, a smile creeping up on his lips that suddenly tugs at my insides and makes me wish for a second that it really is a date he's offering... "Okay, good. Do you want to meet at Waterstone, seven o'clock?"

The excitement starts to drain from me as he says it, followed by an incoming wave of embarrassment. "Oh, man, that... That place is kind of expensive, I don't—"

"Oh, it's okay, I'll pay for everything. I'll even wait outside for you so we can go in together if you'd like..."

Why he's being so nice to me I have no idea, but it's making my annoyance melt and my heart start to beat faster, and I really don't know how to feel about that. In fact I'm pretty sure it's weird as fuck given the circumstances.

But all I have to do is make it through this weekend, hopefully all will be back to normal, and I won't ever have to think about it ever again.

"Alright... It's a date."

———

Out of all the scenarios I'd pictured for the end of the night, this definitely had not been one of them.

I finished my shift at the diner, imagining on my drive home the look on his face when I inevitably showed up with something on my face or stained on my dress; Instead I showed up to Waterstone and was greeted with wandering eyes and showered with bashful compliments.

I expected to get into some type of argument about how each of our kids were better than the other or something, but we ended up talking through their traits with compassion, interest, and pride, all while agreeing that we just have to sit with them this weekend and explain that there are easier, better ways to sort out disagreements than screaming at each other in public.

I expected not to have much fun at all, but by the time we gathered the check and headed out the door, Spencer and I were laughing, just a little tipsy on Cabernet, our hands gently brushing and sparks shooting up my arm at the feeling.

I expected to go our separate ways and walk to my car and drive home, but instead he ended up telling me he was taking the Subway home, and I offered to give him a ride to the opposite side of town where I lived (Waterstone was right in the middle).

I expected to walk through the door, stumble straight up to bed, and sleep until Sky inevitably woke me up with them saying I've slept in too late and needed to get ready for work, but instead I ended up following Spencer up to his door to say goodnight.

And now we're at a fork in the road, and I can take one of two paths.

I can say goodnight, watch him walk in, and then go home and forget about this whole thing.

Or I can keep letting him stare at me until I find myself leaning in to kiss him. Whether or not he'll actually reciprocate is another story, but the little bit of wine tingling in the surface of my body and the dark, intense look in his eye gives me more courage than I've had since I met him.

Before I can make a move, Spencer talks, his voice small and inviting. "Do you want to come inside?" The beating of my heart quickens immensely as he takes another step forward and brings his fingers out to graze my chin. "Vivian's with her mom tonight."

Yes. Vivian's mom, who divorced Spencer pretty soon in the marriage after she just decided his job was too much to handle. He'd quit and took a teaching job, but even still, she declined his pleading to stay married and eventually admitted that she just wasn't in love with him anymore. At least she had the decency to let him have joint custody once his schedule cleared up, and it seemed like they were decent co-parents. Maybe even friends.

I think about Sky, how much they wish their dad had stayed, and how much I wish he had too. I was devastated when he left without anything more than a note. For years it took a huge toll on us, and I barely had the headspace to even think about dating anyone since then.

But here I am now, standing with this man who has also lost a spouse, who's somewhat of a single parent, and who seems kind and genuine enough that I don't think I'd have to worry about bringing him into the life of my child.

Though, I don't even know it'll go that far. I'm getting too far ahead of myself, and so to slow down I look at what's right in front of me. Right now.

Spencer looks at me like he wants to devour me. My whole body is tingling from head to toe. I want to kiss him, and I'm pretty damn sure he wants to kiss me back. He just invited me inside, which means that if I accept, we'll most likely end up sleeping with each other.

Again... Definitely not one of the scenarios I'd had in mind when I left the school today. But it's a damn good one, and he's so hot I want to cry.

My flirty switch turns on so fast, it nearly gives me whiplash. "And what are you gonna do if I say yes?"

"Depends... How badly do you want to walk tomorrow?"

My first instinct is to jokingly tell him to put me in a wheelchair, but I settle for kissing him instead, hoping that gives the same sentiment.

The way he melts into my body tells me I've succeeded. My arms fly up to his neck and pull him closer, and he holds me tightly to him, waiting for my lips to part so he can expertly slip his tongue past them.

I whine out and take a step towards the door. Spencer comes with me and fumbles with the keys in his pocket before reluctantly pulling away to get us inside.

Once we take our jackets and shoes off, he clings to me like static, drawn to me like a magnet, and I let him near without a second thought. Our lips find each other perfectly, like they've always meant to fit together. And as pieces of clothing come off on our way through the house and up to his bedroom, our limbs fit together just as well. Nothing is out of place.

Hell, I don't even remember how inferior to him I felt earlier in the day. Our jobs and lifestyles might seem like polar opposites, but for right now, the two of us are on very equal footing, coming together like it's always been meant to be.

I nearly fall apart when his fingers gather wetness from my cunt, just enough to tease me before pulling away and bringing them to his lips. I watch with a whine waiting on the back of my tongue as he slips his fingers past his mouth and sighs.

"More," is all he manages, and I want so badly to tease him—tell him how I know he can be more eloquent than that—but words are all lost on me too, when he drops to his knees and spreads me apart with ease. I have no choice but to reach behind and grip the foot-end of the bed as he works his tongue expertly against me.

Each of my sighs and whines are met with more avidity from him, taking the form of sharp flicks of the tongue over my clit, and once he adds his fingers to the mix, pumping them expertly inside me, I'm a fucking goner.

I come with a silent shout, clenching my thighs around his face and gripping the foot of the bed so tightly it feels like my hands might go numb.

Once my body loosens, Spencer gets up and kisses me, nearly knocking me over. I'm breathless and dizzy as the tang of my arousal coats my tastebuds. His hands are gentle despite the hunger in his lips, and the medley of sensations of all of these things has me weak in the knees.

"Getting harder to stand already, sweetheart?" he laughs, catching me as I fall into him. His hands clutch at my thighs and he carries me to the edge of the bed, crawling over top of me and kissing down my neck. "That's okay... I'll take good care of you."

I still can't manage to speak as he gently pushes in, the slow burn of him splitting me in two rendering me utterly incapable of even thought. I gladly welcome the pressure, especially once he's inside me all the way and lowering his body to mine. Our chests press firmly together as he pulls back and starts a steady pace with his hips. He traps me with his arms, bringing them to either side of my face. And when his fingers brush the hair from my eyes, he stares into them with intensity as he fucks me.

It's slow and hard. It's heart-pounding. It's earth-shattering. It's everything that makes sex worth having. In that moment we're two equals, so wrapped up in the mere feeling of each other that everything else is just background noise. He breathes me in and I do the same, and with each cant forward of his hips, he brings me deeper into this world we've both ultimately created together.

I want more than anything to wrap my legs around him and keep him close to me, but he's fucking me so good that I don't have the willpower. Instead, they lay spread out, lazy and open as his hips move between them. I'm warm all over, tingling everywhere our skin connects. When he kisses me, swallowing my pathetic attempts at whimpering his name, I'm positive that this is what Heaven must feel like.

Whether it's hours or only minutes later, eventually my body tenses, unable to hold back any further, and two particularly deep thrusts from Spencer send me barreling over the edge.

"There it is, sweetheart..." he praises, caressing my face with long, gentle fingers and leaving little kisses wherever they trail. His voice only seems to help me along, each warm syllable soothing the muscles that pulled taut at his mercy. "That's a good girl..."

I feel tired, calmed, and relaxed, when he pulls out only to jerk off over my lower stomach. Through tired eyes, I watch as he lets go and covers me with his release. Hearing him grunt out my name as he does it nearly wakes me up again, and it even finally brings some words out of me.

"God, you're so fucking hot..."

Well... Not exactly elegant, but the feeling gets across.

Spencer laughs and rolls over so that he isn't nearly crushing me anymore. He kisses down my neck, my arm, and he ever-so-slightly swipes the tip of his tongue over the mess he made before kissing my thigh and getting up to leave— presumably to get me something to clean up with.

Sure enough, he returns shortly with a wet washcloth and tenderly cleans me up. I manage to sit, leaning back on my elbows once he's done and smile at him. He's practically kneeling in front of me again, smiling back as his lips press featherlight kisses to the inside of my leg.

"How're you feeling?" he drawls, letting me pull him up to lay down with me.

"Really good. I haven't done that in so long..."

"Me either... I um... I hadn't really thought much about seeing other people once Lena and I got divorced... I guess I just wanted to put all my focus into being the best father I could, you know?"

"Mhm," I answer, turning to face him and interlocking our fingers. "I know exactly what you mean."

We lay like that for a few moments in comfortable silence, hands and limbs tangled while we breathe the same air and revel in the afterglow we've just created.

Suddenly Spencer laughs, and I squeeze his hand. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking... We probably wouldn't have met if not for Anteros calling us in, right?"

"Yeah..." I piece it together. "Guess I never thought of it that way."

"I just think it's funny, because in Greek mythology, Anteros was an Erote, known as an avenger of unrequited love, and he punished those who scoffed at romantic advances made by others... You and I never even thought about dating after our separations, and yet... Here we are now, because of Anteros."

Hearing him educate me on Greek mythology only serves to remind me how different we are. Still, the little story brings a comforting smile to my lips. "Well... Remind me to send her a basket of muffins or something to thank her."

"And tell her what? That you're grateful she got you laid?"

"Yeah. And what about it?"

The two of us dissolve into laughter that eventually fizzles and leaves us silent again. Our fingers are still tangled, and somehow we've snuggled in even closer.

"In any case, I'm glad I got to meet you, Doctor Reid."

"And I, you, Ms. Y/L/N..."

———

In the past two weeks since that first meeting, I hadn't received any more phone calls from Principal Anteros, which bode as a good sign.

Spencer and I decided to see each other as secretly as we could, which meant only giving vague details to our kids as to what we were doing in our spare time— It seemed weird to spring it on them if they didn't get along, so we figured it was best to wait until the situation was handled.

I tried to talk to Sky about their progress with Vivian, but they only insisted that everything was fine and they wouldn't have to worry anymore. And after relaying this information to Spencer, he informed me that Viv had said the same thing to him.

It wasn't until we both realized that they'd said the same things verbatim each time we asked, that something odd was going on.

And that's how we end up right here, Sky and I sitting on a park bench bathed in the golden October sun while I patiently wait for Spencer to 'coincidentally' show up with Vivian.

Thankfully I don't have to wait too long, because almost five minutes after we sit, I hear the familiar sound of my name falling from his lips, and it's hard to contain the cocky, playful smile that appears upon my own.

"Spencer, hey!" I call back, standing up and going to give him a hug. He pulls me in and he's nice and warm. He smells like burnt wood for some reason, and I want to breathe him in forever. Instead, I settle for a sweet kiss on the lips, both because I simply want to and also because it should baffle the fuck out of our kids.

Sure enough we pull away and look to them, and they look panicked. They have no idea what to do, what to say...

"Oh! Sorry... Viv, this is Y/N, Sky's mom."

The pure amusement in Spencer's voice makes me feel even warmer than being in his embrace. I look to his daughter and give her a wave. "Hi."

"H—Hi..."

It almost seems cruel to laugh at their predicament, but as I turn to Sky and introduce them to Spencer, they have clear annoyance written all over their face.

"Okay, Mom, I think we get it... How did you guys figure it out?"

"What, that you two pretended to hate each other so your principal would have to call us both in to meet?"

The pre-teens look at each other and sigh, truly defeated once and for all. "Yeah," they mutter simultaneously.

"Well, it surely didn't make any sense when you got in trouble for yelling at each other in the first place," Spencer points out. "And then when we asked you how things were working out, you both said the same exact thing..."

"It wasn't that hard to figure out, but we appreciate the effort," I add, reaching out to ruffle Sky's hair. They jerk away playfully, and I can't help but notice their smile as they peek over at Vivian.

"Our plan worked, though, so I call it a win," Vivian says with a shrug.

"As long as you two don't plan on causing any more disruptions at school..." Spencer looks between the both of them, and then at me, his eyes softening as he takes my hand and squeezes it. "Then yes. I'd call it a win, too."

I lean into him and laugh. "Turns out it wasn't Greek mythology that brought us together. It was The Parent Trap."

He raises an eyebrow, like he doesn't get what I mean, and before I can ask or explain, Vivian does it for me. "He's never seen it."

Spencer looks between the three of us like a lost and confused puppy, and we all laugh.

"Well, then, maybe we'll have to have a movie night sometime soon," I offer, reaching out for Sky.

Hand in hand, the four of us continue down the pathway, walking away from the setting sun while dried leaves rustle under our feet.

———

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out):

@elldell1204 @muffin-cup @calm-and-doctor @slutforthegubes @rainsong01 @yourmisosoup @liveloudwriteloud @mcureid @la-vie-en-amour1 @edgycowboy666 @averyhotchner @centiaaa @lizziechaseee @coffeeandendlesswords @usuck @spenxerslut @goldensonlyangel @emilyprentisslittlewhore @takeyourleap-of-faith @reidyoulikeabook @spencerreid9 @b-a-utiful @jareauswifey @flipperpenguins @pansexualthing @donald4spiderman @awesomebooklover17 @shemarmooresfedora @izraahh1 @bakugouswh0r3 @singularityjc @xoxospencerreid @thatsonezesty13 @big-galaxy-chaos @mggskneescrew @youabitchhhh @spencersjello @moonlight-2-6 @starrylang @foreveryoungxx3 @spencerreidscoffeecup @morganwilliams @emilyprsntiss @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @gubswh0re @mrsobrien888 @loveeee2134 @umbreonwolfy @ayla-1605 @reidsbabe @not-that-kind-of-dr-spencer-reid

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds smut #enemies to lovers

827 notes · View notes

unnerving-presence · 3 years

Note

Hi I'm the anon that has send the request about the reader killing the killers, and I loved it!

Can I ask for a part two? Where the entity takes notice of how powerful the reader is and makes them her vessel of sorts, giving them powers and whenever Killers are misbehaving, she sends the reader to..... "teach" them a "lesson"

Same Killers please if you could 🥰

Wow I am so messed up

Of course :) I resisted the urge to elaborate on the readers power but the entity basically merged with them so they have the power of the entity in a way and they’re not as sympathetic so it’s easier for them to put the killers in their place

I love this concept so much I literally have to hold back from writing too much. if you couldn’t tell i love torturing the killers lmao

warning: graphic depictions of violence and gore. this is basically just torture stuff so if you are not comfortable with it please do not read!

Part 1

༒༒༒༒༒

Kazan Yamaoka/The Oni:

As brutal as you were, Kazan never expected the Entity to make you it’s servant. He hasn’t talked to you much ever since you’ve been restricted from going into trials, so the only way he would really know about you serving the Entity is if another killer told him, or if you had to punish him yourself.

For the first time in his life, he’s actually been afraid of someone. Nobody has been able to (alone) take him down. Now seeing as someone like you can? He’s not terrified, if anything he sees you as a little badass, but he does not want to get on your bad side.

He’s never seen you punish a killer, but he has seen the aftermath. The Hillbilly, better known as Max Thompson Jr., decided that he wouldn’t listen to The Entity, decided that he’d kill the survivors the way he wanted. All of them died too quickly for The Entity to feed on their fear, and she was not pleased. Needless to say that the poor man’s cries of pain could be heard for miles, and Kazan would never forget the way Max was desperately trying to keep his organs in place as he struggled to get back to his realm. You wouldn’t even give him the sweet release of death after you were done with him..

This is nothing like when the mob attacked, not even close. This was a new type of pain, pain that makes you wish you were dead. Kazan was never one to give up so easily, but in your grasp he feels so helpless. He doesn’t even have the energy to be angry anymore. He feels so vulnerable with his mask off, with his armor tossed to the side. His jaw is now broken, and his ribs feel like they’re going to snap at any second. You’ve barely started, and you’re already making him regret his actions in his last trial.

“I’m not going to kill you, but I am going to make it hurt.”

Michael Myers/The Shape:

At first, he doesn’t really seem to care that much. If he’s not the one in pain, it’s not really his problem. He still holds a bit of a grudge against you, meaning he stalks you, so he’s known since the start that you’re serving The Entity.

He’s surprised that you’ve gotten this far just from killing him, though he is a bit jealous. You don’t really scare him that much considering your small stature. If anything it’s kind of cute to him. Just a little thing like you running around and giving killers a little bonk on the head for not doing good in trials is a thought that almost makes him smirk. Of course those thoughts were before he’s seen you punish a killer. Now that he’s really seeing it in action, he understands why The Entity made you it’s servant. Though he is far from scared of you, he is a bit impressed at how the other killers feel a bit more uneasy when they see you pass by, some even fleeing to their own realms.

Michael can do almost anything he wants in The Entity’s realm without being punished. Hell, he even kills the survivors too fast for the Entity’s liking and comes back from a trial unscathed. Now with you by The Entity’s side, Michael isn’t as free as he used to be. Michael doesn’t know that however, and doesn’t really seem to care. Atleast he didn’t seem to care until he was the one in all those other killer’s shoes.

It’s been what seemed like hours and Michael looks like he’s on the verge of tears. With his own knife, you’ve managed to do quite a bit to him. His mask is removed, face terribly bruised with a nose bleed that seems like it could go on forever. He’s lost a couple fingers, and the remaining digits no longer have nails. His arms and chest are littered with large and small stab wounds alike, ones that you dig your fingers into when it seems like he hasn’t quite gotten the message that he isn’t in charge here. Michael’s vision occasionally blacks out, only to be woken up by a bash on the head with the handle of the knife. You’re not sure how much he can take, but you are sure that Michael will never forgive you for this.

Summoning a sharp tendril, you swiftly pierce it through Michael’s leg, waking him and receiving a loud grunt as he stares up at you with a tired but furious gaze.

“Wakey wakey Michael, I’m not quite done with you yet.”

Danny Johnson/Ghostface:

This man is so jealous. He was a killer way before you did anything special! Technically he does serve The Entity, but not in the way you do. Danny probably thinks you’re not all that since he’s probably still mad as shit that you embarrassed him like that.

He hears some of the killers talk about you like you’re a nightmare come true. Of course Danny calls it all bullshit and says you’re probably not as ruthless as they say you are. Honestly he just isn’t ready to accept that fact that you have more power over him than he does, and he’s not very fond of the fact that he can’t be an asshole to you anymore.

Danny has never heard nor seen you give one of the killers a lesson, but he has been given shockingly precise details on just what you can do to them. He’s never heard of a survivor having this much power over the killers. Well I guess he couldn’t call you a survivor anymore now, could he? Nonetheless he seems to forget that there are consequences for his actions, especially after a trial he didn’t do so well in.

Danny hasn’t known fear until this day. He displeased The Entity, and now he pays the price. He can no longer see, but he can feel. He can feel the way you pry his mouth open and slowly cut his tongue open. He can feel just how strong your bond is with The Entity, how much you’ve changed. His throat burns from how much he’s been yelling in agony. He coughs up blood as it travels into his lungs, making it more difficult to breathe by the second. It was already worse having you kill him in a trial when you were a survivor, now this torture?

“I love that look of despair on your face.”

Frank Morrison/The Legion:

As if you couldn’t get any scarier to him, now you’re serving The Entity. He hasn’t talked to you ever since you last saw each other so he really has no idea of what you’re doing with The Entity until somebody goes up and straight up tells him.

From what he’s recently heard, you’re now going around teaching killers not to displease The Entity? Sounds odd that all of this is happening in such a short amount of time but it doesn’t make it any less scary for him. He hates being scared, but knowing that if he tries doing things his way will get him punished makes him kind of worried as he tends to go a bit overboard in some of his trials.

His friends are lucky enough to not experience the horror of being tortured into submission, but they have been told what it feels like. He tries his best to comfort Susie and tells her that as long as she does things the way The Entity wants, she will be okay. Needless to say The Legion is very scared of you. Please go easy on them they’re only teenagers (except for Frank of course)

It was bound to happen someday. Frank got too angry at those pesky survivors and wasn’t thinking straight. Not even in a trial, he managed to kill 2 of them. He would learn soon enough that killing isn’t allowed outside of trials. The rest of The Legion are huddled up in a corner. Susie is sobbing into Joey’s chest as he slowly rubs her back, trying his best not to look at what’s going on in front of him. Julie can’t seem to look away, pure shock seeming to be the thing holding her still. Frank feels like all of his bones are on the verge of shattering. How is he even alive at this point? His organs aren’t in place, scattered across the hard wood floor, leaving a sour smell behind. The only thing keeping him up at this point is the hook that is impaled straight through his shoulder. He wants so badly to just die, but The Entity is the only thing keeping him alive at this moment. No matter how much blood you spill, it’s not over until The Entity says it’s over.

“Oh Frank, you know this is far from over..”

#dbd #dbd x reader #michael myers #michael myers x reader #kazan yamaoka #kazan yamaoka x reader #ghostface x reader #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #frank morrison x reader #frank morrison #tw gore #tw violence #tw blood #dead by daylight

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saintshigaraki · 3 years

Text

THESE ARE HARD TIMES FOR DREAMERS

title from bones by ms mr

pairing: yandere nanami kento x f!reader

word count: 2.6k

excerpt: You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always.

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.

a/n: nanami if ur reading this i’m free thursday night.

tags: yandere, angst, reader is once again full of rage, nanami love what have you done, overuse of the word hate

warnings: yandere tendencies, obsessive and possessive behavior, slight infantilization, noncon/dubcon, gaslighting (?), kidnapping, slight stockholm syndrome, mention of past suicide attempt

MDNI!

You can’t exactly pinpoint where it all went south. There’s not a specific date that stands out to you when you actively noticed things taking a turn for the worst. It’s like that fable. About the frog slowly being boiled alive. Except, in this case, the frog is you and the boiling water is Nanami. And in this case, this is not some story your mom used to read to you about the dangers of gradual escalation, it’s your life. If you can even call this monotonous hell you’re living a life.

You’ve got to hand it to him, you really didn’t see it coming. Nanami’s always been smart like that. Even now, after everything, or maybe even especially now, after everything, you can’t deny that.

You don’t bother moving from where you lay, sprawled out on the floor, when you hear the first click of many locks signaling that your sweet and doting lover has returned.

You used to try to rush him, or get the jump on him with the heaviest thing you could find. Once you started to get really desperate, you just screamed over his shoulder before he had time to clamp a large hand over your mouth.

None of it ever worked, of course.

It was months ago that you decided hopeless escape attempts simply weren’t worth Nanami’s wrath. He’s faster than you, stronger than you, and far bigger. And he always will be.

When your relationship with Nanami was still somewhat normal (though looking back you can’t help but notice all the things that weren’t normal, you suppose hindsight really can be quite the bitch in that regard) you never really thought too hard about how much stronger he was compared to you. In some ways, it might’ve even been comforting, instead of just horribly depressing. No one could touch you when your hand was tucked in his.

It hurts more than you’d like to admit that something you once found such solace in, is now what stands between you and any semblance of normalcy and shred of happiness.

(And fresh air. God, you miss fresh air so much it hurts, a dull never-ceasing ache deep in your chest. You miss the stars too. Sometimes, when you’re laying on the floor like you are now or in the dead of night when it’s all you can do to swallow down your screams, you try to map out constellations on the ceiling. You’re not very good at it though, and the few constellations you actually remember are starting to slip from your memory like water through fingers, no matter how desperately you try to hold onto them.

You wish you’d studied the stars more, ingrained them so deeply into your psyche that you’d carry the night sky with you, always.

You wish they’d never been stolen from you in the first place.)

It takes Nanami’s slightly disapproving hum to snap you out of your celestial spiraling.

You tilt your head back, just enough to find he’s towering over you. His mouth set in a grim line. His glasses, jacket, and tie have already been discarded, his shirt rolled up to his forearms. The sight of him like this use to make your cheeks burn. Now, it’s hard to rein in the urge to spit at his feet and hiss out every seething thought you have about him burning below the surface.

But the lecture you’d receive after a ‘tantrum’ like that wouldn’t be worth it. He always manages to twist your words, your own feelings, sometimes even your very sense of self, until you can hardly tell what’s up and what’s down. Until you can hardly distinguish your reality from his. Until all you can hear is Nanami’s voice in your ear, reminding you of everything you’ll never be. Of just how helpless you are.

(It’s like his hands are around your throat, choking and choking and choking.)

And once you’re nothing but a sobbing heap on the floor, he’ll pull you into his lap, tuck your face against the curve of his shoulder, and rub soothing circles into your back while saying something along the lines of ‘It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll always be here take care of you’ until your sobs have quieted to the occasional hiccup.

You hate it, how he manages to make you feel so dependent on him. He’s so, so good at knowing just what string to pull so that you’ll unravel completely, just so he can put you back together again with his painstakingly gentle hands.

Nanami’s smart like that.

So, you’ve learned to bite your tongue.

“You’re insistence on laying on the dirty floor when we have a perfectly good couch and bed truly astounds me,” he says, monotone.

You don’t justify his sarcasm with a response, partly to stall what inevitably will come after this and partly to annoy him. Nanami doesn’t like it when you ignore him. It’s one of the few things you have the power to do that manages to get under his skin.

It’s these little rebellions, you’ve found, that make all the difference.

You eye the couch warily, it’s plush and huge. The perfect place for an afternoon nap. Nanami had traded out the smaller one he’d had before, for this one, a few months after you’d started dating. He’d wanted one big enough that you two could comfortably lay together as you slept and he read. You spent countless hours there, tucked into his side, with the setting sun warming your skin.

It’s also where you had told him that you wanted to end things. That he’d gotten too overbearing, too controlling. That you felt suffocated. That you still loved him dearly, but that you couldn’t do this anymore. It’s where you left him as you walked out with only a single bag in hand.

That night you went to sleep in some shady motel room and woke up back in Nanami’s bed with a padded handcuff chaining you to the frame.

These memories from before have a way of coming back to haunt you, they pass through the walls, whispering poison in your ears, caressing your skin one moment just to dig their claws in deep the next.

They mock you as you sit and rot and dream of stars you’ll never see again.

“You’re stalling.” He always manages to sound so distinctly unimpressed with you whenever you don’t follow one of his unwritten rules (and God even if you were actively trying to follow them, there are so many that keeping track of them is nothing short of an impossible feat).

You finally get to your feet, wringing your hands in a way that you know makes you look weak and pathetic. Just the way Nanami likes you so that he can swoop in and take such good care of his little darling love.

“Kento, I-”

“Save it,” he says, already walking towards the bedroom.

You could put up a fight, but all that’d do is make him angry, and then you’d have to do what he wanted anyway and deal with being tethered back to the bed for a few days while Nanami fusses over you like some sort of deranged mother hen.

You make your way over to the bedroom, already starting to strip, ready to get this over with as soon as possible.

You’re half-naked by the time you enter his room.

Even after months and months of this, the humiliation of standing nearly naked in front of him while he stays fully dressed never dulls, it’s still just as sharp and awful as the first time he made you do it.

(It’s like you’re peeling back your own skin, defenseless as he rubs salt in the wound.)

You suppose you should feel lucky that he lets you keep on your bra and underwear. Not that the undergarments he bought you really cover all that much, but in these four walls, beggars can’t exactly be choosers.

He takes off his watch, setting it carefully onto his dresser before walking over to you and starting his nightly inspection for any cuts or bruises you may have received (or given yourself) throughout the day while he was off at work. Off in the world you’ll never see again. Just the thought is enough to make you want to scream.

You used to be able to wiggle your way out of this, before the incident, as Nanami has dubbed it, but now it’d be a cold day in hell before he doesn’t painstakingly go over (almost) every inch of your skin with a careful eye and calloused hands.

His thumb always brushes terribly gently over the scar a few centimeters to the right of one of your jugular veins, where you had attempted to slit your throat after you realized that you would probably never escape this place. Never escape him.

You’d never seen Nanami as scared as when he walked in on you holding a knife to your throat. And you’d never seen him as angry as after he’d wrenched it from your hand using a type of speed that shouldn’t even be humanly possible.

He took a full month off work after that which coincidently also happened to be the worst fucking month of your life.

He cups your face in his large hand and presses a kiss to your temple. A sign that he’s deemed you just as pristine as when he left you and that he’s very pleased by it.

You want to bite his hand. You want to rip his flesh from the bone. You want to hold his heart in your hand and crush it.

(You want to go home. You want to feel the earth beneath your bare feet. You want to sit on a roof in your childhood neighborhood and watch the sun dip below the horizon and drown the world in golden light. You want to step out on an autumn day with winter just around the corner and smell the crispness in the air, feel it claw its way into your lungs.

You want to remember what it’s like to be human.)

Nanami’s lips are on yours before you can think, soft and enticing. You could push him away or just say no. He’d listen. Not even he can apparently justifying forcing you.

(We all have our limits, don’t we?)

But you don’t. You haven’t in a long while. And you hate yourself for it more than you could ever hate him.

He loses his shirt rather quickly and you manage to discard your bra before he lifts you up and tosses you on the bed. You don’t get a second to breathe before he’s over you, monstrous and awful and so terribly beautiful.

He takes a moment to caress your face, his knuckles brushing over your cheek so tenderly that it nearly makes you sick. You’re thankful when he finally says, “Open up.”

You do as he says and in the next second two of his fingers are stuffed into your waiting mouth.

“Suck.”

And you do, without hesitation, because you know what’s coming next. You know that for the next hour or so, there’ll be no denying the fact that you’re alive, that you’re not some ghost haunting these halls. It’ll prove that it’s blood that flows through your veins instead of stone, that you have not yet started to rot in your own skin.

He he pulls his fingers from your mouth without a word and leaves a trail of burning kisses down your sternum and stomach. He wastes no time pulling your underwear off and attaching his calloused thumb to your clit, rubbing tight little circles in a way that has you keening almost immediately.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time you’re wet enough for him to comfortably slip a finger in. Just one of them reaches spots you never quite manage to hit on your own, and you hate how much you love it. It has you moaning, nearly loud enough to drown out the lewd squelching by the time he adds a second finger.

“You’re so, so good for me,” he murmurs, voice rough. It sends a shiver down your spine.

You hate that the praise has you clenching his fingers in a near vice grip. You hate that he still affects you in any way after what he’s done to you. After what he’s reduced you to.

You don’t have time to stew in your self-loathing before his fingers find that spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars.

(And this is the reason you don’t push him away.

You’ll never step foot under the night sky again. But here, with his fingers hitting all the right spots in your cunt, you’ll make your own galaxy and pretend that it holds a candle to the real thing.)

With the pace he sets, his constant low grunts of just how lovely you are creaming around his fingers, and the way his thumb never lets up on your puffy clit, you’re coming within minutes, you spasm around his digits so hard that the stars you so love burst behind your tightly shut eyelids.

He eases his fingers out of you and licks them clean, his dark eyes half-lidded and nearly glowing in the dimly lit bedroom, burning straight through you.

You’re the one to look away first. You always are. Shame settling heavily in your gut. Shame that you enjoyed it, shame that you didn’t push him, shame that you’ll do this all over again tomorrow.

When he finally sinks into you, he does it slowly. Sometimes you wish he wouldn’t, sometimes you wish he’d make it hurt. It’d be easier to hate him instead of yourself if he did.

When Kento fucks you like this, chest to chest, there’s not a single part of you not swallowed whole by him.

You hate it.

You hate yourself more for moaning when he changes the angle and starts fucking you so hard and fast that your hands can’t help but scramble for anything to hang on to, they tear down his back, drawing blood which seems to only spur him on to go harder.

“Kento I-- I’m-,” but you can’t finish the sentence, not when you can feel your orgasm teetering on the edge, so, so close that it’s painful, you just need-

“You want to come?” He asks, his voice annoyingly steady.

It’s unfair of him to expect you to be able to answer when he has you nearly folded in half. You can hardly even think.

(But when has Kento ever really been fair?)

“Use your words, darling.” His lips are right against your ear, his tone unbearably condescending, and maybe a bit mocking.

You hate him for asking you to beg.

You hate yourself more for giving in.

“Kento, please,” you whine.

He laughs, low and mean, you feel it in your own chest and for a moment it really is as though you are nothing but an extension of him, a limb left useless without Nanami guiding you. You hate it. You hate it.

Eventually, he relents and brings his thumb back down to your clit, resuming those tight, firm circles, and that’s all you needed to finally push you over the edge.

This time, when you come, there are no stars to comfort you. Just Kento’s eyes, bright and burning.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock is all it takes for him to let out a low groan and still completely inside you, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt is awful in it’s familiarity.

His eyes finally close as he drops his forehead against yours, breathing your air and forcing you to breathe his.

He closes the gap between your lips, gently, sweetly. You can almost pretend for a moment that this is the Kento you knew years ago. Who held you so sweetly and smiled when you smiled.

You don’t realize you’re crying until he kisses your temple tenderly and wipes away your tears. He’s not worried, you cry more often than not after he fucks you. You don’t really want to think about why.

You let your mind wander as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom, where in a minute he’ll run a warm bath for you two to share, then afterwards he’ll dry you off with the utmost tenderness, then dress you himself before carrying you to the kitchen where he’ll set you on the counter as he makes dinner (you won’t be allowed to help, of course) then he’ll force every last bite down your throat if you refuse to eat (he hasn’t had to do that in a long while though), then he’ll have you curl up on his lap, head tucked into his shoulder, as he reads. After about an hour he’ll bring you back to the bathroom where he’ll brush your teeth for you because you never do it right, and then he’ll drag you into bed no later than 10:30 PM so that you can do it all over again tomorrow.

“Do you want the lavender or rose soap today?” Nanami asks you.

You ignore him in favor of trying to remember the details of your galaxy, but it’s already faded away to nothing by the time you close your eyes.

a/n pt 2: i feel like it was painfully obvious that this was my first attempt ever at smut. i’m so sorry yall. i really did try.

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tobesoalive · 3 years

Text

rises the moon (Josh Kiszka x Reader)

here’s a fluffy smut pice for y'all about the hottest man alive, Josh Kiszka! Let me know if you like it and want to see more of this stuff, I had a lot of fun writing it! Anyways....enjoy!

WARNINGS: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, the usual

“C’mon babe! Let's celebrate a little!” you nagged your sweaty, grinning boyfriend. Josh Kiszka was the love of your life, and had been since you met three years ago. It was a warm August night and he had just gotten done performing his first show in months.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let loose a bit” he replied with a grin. “I’m kinda tired though so do you mind if it’s just the two of us?”

“I guess I could tolerate that” you tease.

After about another hour of hearing people congratulate the boys and helping pack up it was time to go. You were able to make it to the car without being swarmed by fans, but still stopping for a few photos. You offered to drive so that Josh could sleep for a little bit. Finally you pulled up to the little bungalow you and Josh had started living in a few months ago. It only made sense for the two of you to live together since you were practically inseparable.

Entering through the garage you kicked off your shoes as Josh questioned what you had in mind.

“Well I was thinking we could put on a record and maybe cook some food? Maybe even enjoy a glass of wine if you’re feeling wild”

“You know me baby, I’m always wild!” he responds, doing a weird voice that you rolled your eyes at, but deep down you loved it.

“I think the term feral suits you better” you quip, pulling him in for an embrace.

He rests his head on your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck, breathing deeply. You know how stressed and anxious he has been these past few weeks leading up to the show, and it made you so happy to see him finally relaxing. Silently your bodies part ways and he makes his way over to your extensive vinyl collection in the living room. He’s flipping through records when you run up to your bedroom and come back down the stairs, hands hiding behind your back.

“Hey Frodo, I have a little surprise for you”

“Oh boy what could it be, a sacred ring or some shit?” he says without looking up, putting a Fleet Foxes record on the turntable.

“Sorry for calling you a hobbit, I just wanted to make sure I got your attention.” you say as he finally makes his way over to you.

From behind your back you pull out a single joint and a lighter, one you had hand decorated with little stars and a moon. On it you had written in gold Sharpie “You are my sun”.

“Babe this is so amazing!” he says while taking the lighter in his hand and flipping it around. Josh was always keeping your sketches and random doodles that you thought nothing of, so you thought you’d put them on something he’d get use out of.

“I’m sorry I know it’s small, I just wanted to give you a little something to say congrats.”

“Are you kidding mama?! I love it, you didn’t have to do anything!” he assures you before pulling you in for a kiss.

“I will definitely be putting this to good use, but I think we should break it in now” he says before pulling you over to the couch and putting the joint between his lips.

He passes it to you and you inhale deeply, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs. This was an activity you and Josh liked to partake in when you had a stressful day, or when you were going on an adventure, or anytime really. Not that either of you weren’t already very laid back and silly.

After a few minutes of the two of you passing the joint back and forth it was gone, and you ashed it out in the tray on the coffee table, setting the lighter to rest beside it.

“God that was a really great present actually, I just wish there was a way I could repay you” Josh says turning to face you.

“It’s a gift, you don’t need to repay me!” you tell him, starting to feel the effects of the weed.

“But you see I’m just a giving person, and what I’d like to give to you right now is a mind blowing orgasm” Josh says, and you can’t help but burst out laughing. You cover your face with your hands before facing him and saying “Kiszka you are such a dork, you’re lucky I find you so attractive!”

Both of you are grinning as your lips collide and after a minute of making out you pull back.

“After some deep consideration, I’ve come to the conclusion that that is an offer i just can’t refuse”

“Oh my love you are in for a treat!” he tells you before pulling you onto his lap.

Your hips start to move against his involuntarily, and you can feel him growing harder beneath his shorts. You tug at the hem of his white shirt and he lifts his arms up so you can pull it off him. Once again you break the kiss to move down on to your knees, ready to tease him with your mouth.

“Oh no princess, none of that tonight. All I really want to do is taste you so you better get your ass on this couch” he says with a small laugh.

You giggle as you get back on the sofa, barely able to contain your excitement. He unbuttons your pants and awkwardly yanks them off, causing you both to laugh. Quickly, his face becomes more serious as he concentrates on running his fingers up and down on the inside of your thighs, lightly ghosting around where you need him most.

“Joshua please” you whimper as you throw your head back, becoming more and more frustrated by his teasing.

“Sorry baby, I was just admiring how wet you already are. Was it from me?”

“Mhmm” you moan in response, tilting your head back down to make eye contact with him.

“Well I suppose I could treat you, since you’ve been such a good girl” he smirks before pulling your panties to the side, running his middle finger up and down your slit.

His teeth bite at his bottom lip as he darts his eyes from your wet center and back up to your eyes. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him, the sight of him alone is enough to make you come.

Slowly, he pushes his middle finger in, down to the last knuckle, letting it sit there a moment before he starts to pump it in and out of you at a lazy pace. Your walls contract around him as your eyes start to tear up, desperate for more.

“Josh more please” you plead with him. Instantly he attaches his lips to your clit, the motion all too familiar to him, the hairs above his lip and on his chin adding extra sensation. He swirls his tongue around the sensitive bud as his finger speeds up it’s pace. You can feel the heat start to pool in your stomach as he continues his actions. He adds a second finger, taking a moment to pull his mouth away and use his free hand to pull your panties to the side more. He dives back in, more concentrated than ever, fingers curling up to hit the delicate spot inside of you. You can see him rutting against the couch and it’s enough to make you throw your head back and let out a loud and rather pornographic moan.

“I think I’m gonna-” you start to say as the fire in your belly builds.

“It’s okay baby, you can do it, cum for me” he says, flashing his gorgeous smile quickly before returning his lips to your clit, moaning around it, sending delicious vibrations through your body. Your fingers lace through his curls as his fingers pump at an insane speed, sending you over the edge.

Your body shakes as stars form behind your closed eyelids, every part of you basked in complete euphoria, oblivious to everything around you. After a minute you open your eyes as you whimper at the feeling of Josh dragging his fingers out of you, but the feeling of his breath still hot against your clit.

You look down to see Josh with his eyes closed, partially hunched over as his hands rest on his knees, your juices gleaming on his tan skin.

“Wow, I owe you one, that was fucking amazing” you sigh.

“I’d love that, but I’m gonna have to take a rain check, seems my problem took care of itself” he says, cheeks turning red.

You look down to see a dark spot on his green shorts, realizing that he was experiencing just as much pleasure from pleasuring you.

“Joshua Michael Kiszka, that is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life!” you say before pulling him into a kiss, the taste of you lingering on his lips. The thought of him getting off from eating you out alone drove you wild, he really fucking loves you.

“God I’ve never been more tired and content in my life” he says as his arms find their way around you, head burying into your neck.

“Well my prince, why don't you go upstairs and get in bed while I get you a glass of water and a snack”

“Oh my god, how did I get this lucky?” he says

“I ask myself the same thing everyday” you say before giving him one last kiss.

“You are my moon”

“And you my sun”

And you meant every bit of it.

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