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do you believe me now? | 4
in which spencer reid and inexperienced fem!reader are interrupted at the most inopportune of times. he calls you on the first night of his case. dirty talk turns into a hard conversation. we get a glimpse into spencer's past, and we finally learn why he's so hesitant to sleep with you.
part one | part two | bonus chapter | part three
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: dirty talk, phone sex/mutual masturbation, softdom!spence, obligatory he talks u through it, lots of graphic discussions of sex, established relationship, angst (sorrryyy!) a/n: so remember how i said you'd need the bonus chapter to fully appreciate/understand this part? i was wrong!! it will come in handy probably in the next part tho:) also idk how these parts keep getting so long im sorry! anyway, i love you all so bad. thank you for bearing w/ my craziness. PLEASE let me know your thoughts on this part!! i adore hearing from you!! kisses
(also special thank you to @fliesforeyes who convinced me phone sex w/ spence could be done!! i will link his phone sex blurb here :)) thank u binx!!
“Three million six hundred eighty four thousand three hundred thirty two times fourteen million seven hundred sixty one thousand nine hundred seventy one.”
You’ve lost count of how many stupid math questions you’ve asked your human calculator boyfriend, just to see if he can actually do them. Spencer is silent for a second, and you think you’ve finally stumped him. 
“That one is complicated.”
You sit bolt upright in his bed, looking down at him and pointing an accusatory finger. His brows raise at the manic look in your eye. 
“You don’t know.”
“I do know. I meant it would be hard to explain if you aren’t a math person.”
“Bullshit!” You scoff, “you don’t know!”
“It would display on a calculator as five-point-three-eight-eight-E-thirteen. It’s a really big number.”
“Oh, really big, huh?” you mumble, searching for your phone blindly in the sheets and scrambling to open the calculator app. “Um… what numbers did I say?”
Spencer repeats them back to you and you press the equals sign. 
You look at it. 
And then you set your phone down. 
“I was right, huh?” he smiles up at you, probably reveling in your pouty wrongness. 
Too proud to admit it, you collapse on top of him, burying your face in his shoulder. 
“I don’t like this game anymore. What the fuck even is an e? Why are we doing algebra?”
Spencer laughs, brushing your hair aside. 
“The e stands for exponent. It’s to the power of ten.”
“Ever heard of a rhetorical question?”
“Yes, I have.”
It’s hard not to snort even at his dumbest jokes. 
“You’re annoying. Let’s do something else.”
You roll over onto your back again, letting your head flop over to look at Spencer, whose hair is exactly the right amount of messy after a long day, falling in impossibly soft waves over the perfect lines and contours of his face. Despite lounging, he’s still in his suit from work—he’d left Quantico and immediately picked you up. There were no solid plans for the evening, so after both of you pretended that you wanted to go out for a while, you ended up back at his apartment. 
He looks good. Almost too good. 
“Something like what?” he smiles lazily, reaching over and tracing his fingers over your cheek. 
“Something… naked?”
His grin widens and he shakes his head. 
“Me naked or you naked?”
Pretending to think about it, you roll your bottom lip between your teeth. 
“Mm… why not both?”
“Hm. Why do I feel like I know where this is going?”
The mattress sinks underneath your elbow as you prop yourself up, dropping your head over Spencer’s to kiss him. 
“Because you’re so smart, and you think it’s a great idea.”
He entertains your kiss for a moment. Just a moment.
“You sound sure of yourself.”
“Because I am!” You finally give in to your impulses, tangling your fingers in his hair and looking at him meaningfully. “It doesn’t make any sense for us to have not had sex. I don’t care about any of your weird, cryptic moral reasoning.”
He grabs your wrist carefully. 
“It is not moral,” he scoffs. “We haven’t even talked about it yet.”
“Really? Because I feel like we’ve talked about it a lot.” 
He begins to reply, but you realize you don’t want to get into a debate over whether you’ve technically talked about it yet. “I don’t even care! If that’s all that’s standing in your way, then let’s talk about it. Right now.”
Spencer sighs, his eyes darting between yours as he reaches up to cradle your cheek. 
“Fine. But I have things to say you’re not going to like.”
“So business as usual?”
He rolls his eyes. You allow yourself a tiny self-satisfied smirk, forever relishing in his poorly-hidden soft spot for your constant teasing. Spencer ignores this. Which is probably for the best. 
“I know you probably won’t see it this way, but—sex is different than everything else we’ve done so far. It can be really fun, obviously it feels good, it facilitates deeper feelings of connection—that’s all true. Which is why, in my opinion, it’s incredibly important that you be selective with who you sleep with. Because it’s so easy to do something you regret, and sex is vulnerable. It should always be with someone you trust and—and… care about.”
A pink flush stains his cheeks like watercolor as he stumbles over the last few words. It makes your heart flutter against the confines of your chest.
Maybe best not to think about the absence versus presence of certain four-letter words and what they may or may not mean. You’ll move on to more pressing matters and pretend like it doesn’t ache just a little in your whole body. 
You cover his hand with your own. 
“Are you going to break up with me anytime soon?”
Spencer’s eyes widen, filling with genuine horror and confusion. 
“What? No!”
“Are you going to cheat on me?”
“Absolutely not, I—”
“Then I’m not going to regret it. Issue resolved. Moving on.”
“Honey, I just want you to be 100% sure that I’m what you want.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flopping onto your back once more. “I have begged you to sleep with me on multiple occasions. We have been dating for months and I liked you even longer before that. I think about it literally every time I see you. I don’t know how to be any surer.”
It’s quiet for a moment as you study the imaginary pattern on the ceiling. The rebuttal you’d been anticipating doesn’t come—instead, the mattress shifts next to you. Spencer enters your field of vision, now leaning over you with a little smile on his face that gives you butterflies. 
“Every time?”
“…yes, every time,” you agree, voice considerably thinner than it had been a moment ago. Spencer glances at your lips as he speaks. 
“Interesting. And what is it that you think about exactly?”
You groan again, attempting to roll facedown, but he pins your shoulder to the bed. The way he’s sweetly kissing down your cheek and jaw is infuriating because you know it’s a false pretense. 
“Ugh, I don’t know! Don’t make me answer that!”
“You said if talking about it was all that was standing in my way, we would talk about it. Now I want to talk about it. Come on,” he says, voice low and cloying against your throat as he attempts to tease the answer out of you. “Tell me what you think about when you think about us having sex.”
You let out a shaky breath at the feeling of his lips skimming your neck, hating how easily he can reduce you to this. 
“I… I always wonder what it will feel like. Sometimes I wonder if it will hurt.”
Spencer sighs, interrogation by way of seduction momentarily forgotten. You silently curse yourself for saying something so un-sexy. 
“It might, sweetheart. That’s one of the reasons we’ve held back. I… really don’t want to hurt you. I don’t even know if I can.”
You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you with more confidence than you feel. 
“Sometimes I worry about it, too. But I like you a lot more than it scares me. I still want to.”
He kisses your palm. 
“You’ll be okay. It doesn’t hurt for everyone, and even if it does, you’re resilient.”
“Exactly. So you have to get over yourself.”
Spencer laughs like he wasn’t expecting to, eyes sparkling as he regards you.  
“Yeah. Yeah, maybe I do.”
He’s smiling again as he leans down and kisses you—a slow, lingering thing which tastes like spearmint as you part your lips for him. 
“Please?” you whisper against him after a long moment. He hums, keeps kissing you. 
“What is it that you think you want? You don’t even know what you’re asking for.”
“Tell me,” you beg, chasing his lips. “Tell me what you’re going to do with me. We can talk about it. This is talking about it.”
Spencer exhales deeply, wedging a thigh between yours. Immediately you clamp around it, trying not to grind against him too overtly. 
“You want to know what I’d do to you?”
“Yes—” you paw at his jacket. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you from pushing it off. Your heart pounds. 
“Well… we both know how anxious you get,” he muses, pressing his lips so delicately to your fluttering pulse-point in emphasis, and then back to your mouth. His thigh pushes harder against you to supplant the absence of his lips as he speaks, though he kisses you sporadically and between sentences. “You’re hard to get out of your head when you’re nervous, you know that? I watch it happen. One minute you’re with me, and then you start overthinking, and getting self-conscious. The only thing that seems to relax you is letting me touch you—so first I would touch you like I’ve touched you before. I’d make sure you know how pretty you are and how good you deserve to feel.” You whimper inadvertently at his words, arching into him and grinding against his leg as he pauses to kiss the sensitive soft spot below your jaw. “You’re going to need to be really ready to let me in. Do you know what I mean by that?”
As he asks, he pushes his thigh against you harder. Your body responds immediately, arching into him and seeking more friction. When you squeak, he takes it as a no. 
“I mean I need you relaxed and wet. You’ll excuse my crude language.”
You pull at his tie, breathing heavier now and so turned on it’s almost painful. 
“What are you gonna do after that?”
“What else is there to do but fuck you after that?” he breathes. “You want me to tell you how I’d fuck you?”
Something about it makes you whine salaciously. You’ve heard him curse—you’ve even heard him talk about fucking you. But it feels more real now; when it’s low in your ear and you’re covertly undressing him and he’s pushing your shirt over your stomach promisingly. 
“Yes, please.” 
He hums against your jaw, nipping and brushing his lips over the skin as he considers. Leaves you waiting. 
“I would have to take my time with you. You’ll be overwhelmed. I know you think you won’t, but you will. I’m going to have to be so, so careful with you, angel. It’s going to drive me insane. But it will feel good for you.”
“Why careful? I don’t want that.”
He chuckles. A chill runs down your spine. 
“Yeah, you do. You’re going to want me to be careful when I’m—” he pauses, pressing his thumb to your bare lower tummy and dragging up to a spot below your belly button. He presses down lightly again. “Right here. Approximately.”
The surface of the sun has nothing on the temperature of your skin in this moment, as you writhe underneath him in both arousal and embarrassment. Mostly, burning need. You feel almost sick with it. 
“Please don’t make me wait anymore. Just do it, please, Spencer. I need it to be you, I don’t want it to be anyone else. I promise I’m ready.”
It’s silent for a moment. Your heart quickens. You sense his walls wearing away, his instinct to keep you intact for god knows what reason crumbling. He’s finally going to give you what you’ve been begging for. 
Spencer opens his mouth, eyes glimmering—
And then his phone rings. 
You both freeze—he melts dejectedly before you do, more accustomed to an ill-timed phone call and realizing the finality it can present. 
He’s breathing heavily against your neck, as if maybe whoever it is will just hang up. But the phone keeps ringing. 
“I’m sorry.”
Your stomach sinks as he sits up, grabbing his phone from the side table and rubbing circles on your inner thigh as he answers.
“This is Reid,” he says, lackluster. 
If you wanted, you could hear what Penelope is saying—but you don’t bother listening. It’s going to be a case. Spencer is about to leave. The details are his problem. 
“Okay. I’ll be there in an hour.”
He hangs up, tossing the phone onto the mattress and not speaking for a moment, just continuing to rub your leg apologetically. Watching you almost mournfully—taking in your disheveled hair, your likely blown-out pupils, the shirt pushed almost over your chest. 
“I have to go right now,” he finally manages with a heavy sigh, gently pulling your shirt back into place. 
You sit up, shedding all the hopes that had been building for the evening, and try to sound chipper—though all you feel is bitter disappointment that goes deeper than you understand. 
“I know. Go ahead, I can get a cab home.”
He frowns, running his hand over the back of your hair. 
“I don’t love the idea of you standing on the sidewalk waiting for a car in this part of town so late. Do you just want to stay here for the night and go home tomorrow?”
You force a smile. Great. So you’ll be spending the night in his bed after all—just without him. 
“Sure. Thanks.”
“Yeah.”
Neither of you are feeling particularly grateful. 
Soon you’re walking him to his own door. Both of you come to a stop in front. 
“I’m sorry,” he sighs again. 
“Spencer, it’s fine. It’s your job. You don’t need to apologize. You were very clear about this part when we started dating.”
“I know, but… it’s easier in theory than in practice.”
You smile. If Spencer is a reflection of you, it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. His hair is still messy from your fingers running through it and he’s missing his tie. You hope all his coworkers see and feel bad about taking him away from you. 
But it’s not their fault. You just want someone to blame. 
Instead you mould yourself to his body, wrapping around him like you belong there. He returns your embrace, pressing his lips into the crook of your shoulder and rubbing your back in that way he always does with you. 
In that moment, your affection for him becomes so profound it’s like a chemical reaction—everywhere he touches burns and you love him so fucking much it aches in every inch of your body the way your muscles do when you have a bad fever. Love is the most terrible of afflictions, you realize. It is a fever dream. It’s every fiber of your being screaming to tell him how you feel, to beg him on your knees not to go because you love him like a child loves a parent or a bee loves honeysuckle or the ocean loves the horizon. Pared down to your most basic components, the barest version of yourself, you require him. Your soul needs his soul. 
“Spencer?”
“Hm?” 
It’s nothing more than an absentminded hum against your skin. 
“I…”
Should you be looking him in the eye when you say this? Should you say it right before he has to leave? Just because you say it doesn’t change the fact that he’s about to be gone for several long days. Maybe this is a terrible time to admit something that suddenly feels so true and so consequential. 
He senses your internal conflict, pulling back despite your resistance and holding your face between his hands. 
“You what?” He murmurs, soft eyes bouncing back and forth between your own. Fuck—you feel so observed, now. Like he can read your mind. 
“I forget.”
FUUUUUUCK. 
Spencer blinks. Processes. You watch the disbelief crystallizing over his eyes like ice freezing over a lake. 
He knows. 
He knows you didn’t forget, and he probably knows what you were going to say, and he’s going to tell himself he was wrong to spare your dignity. 
Everything hurts when he kisses you. You wonder what regret tastes like. 
“Well, let me know if you remember.”
It’s too gentle and at the same time he can’t hide the edge with all the tenderness in the world. You nod as if in a trance, already looking forward to dissociating as you lie in bed and stare at the dark ceiling.
Two small goodbyes are exchanged, slightly stifled now, as if shared between drunk strangers who have sobered up and are mutually embarrassed about how candidly they’d interacted before. 
You close the door behind him, doing up all the locks, and meticulously flick every light switch in the apartment off before climbing into his bed—though you don’t really feel like you deserve to be there anymore.
But perhaps this is all an overreaction. It’s not like you owe it to him to say I love you, or anything—it was bad timing, anyway. And why can’t he say it? In fact, why hasn’t he said it? 
Maybe you have it all wrong. 
Maybe he doesn’t feel that way about you. 
You fall asleep before you allow these questions to make you sick. 
24 hours go by. 
24 hours go by and you really had meant to leave his apartment—it was just that you woke up late, and your phone was dead so you couldn’t call a car, so you charged it while you made breakfast, and then you ate, and then you decided to take a shower and wash your clothes, and then it was two in the afternoon and you hadn’t left yet and you decided to walk to the store and replenish the groceries you’d used up. 
Maybe you got a bit distracted looking at flowers and other beautiful things at the market and by the time you got home it was 5:00, so you decided to wait until seven to skip rush hour. And then eight, just to be sure. 
Before you know it, it’s midnight, and you’re dozing off in his bed again (teeth cleaned with the brush you’d bought at the store—maybe this whole situation hadn’t been entirely unwitting on your part.)
Throughout the day, you tried to let all your anxiety about the previous night melt away. If it’s something that needs to be addressed, Spencer will address it. Everything will work out in the end. That thought is how you’re able to doze off. 
You’re almost asleep when your phone lights up and begins buzzing on the side table. You wince as your eyes open, not adjusting well to the harsh bright display and unable to discern who’s even calling you at this hour. Stupidly, probably because you’re half asleep, you answer without checking. 
“Hello?”
Your voice is groggy, quiet with sleep. 
“Shit, did I wake you?”
“Spence?” you whisper, stomach flipping at the sound of his voice on the other line. You feel caught, still sleeping in his bed. 
“… yeah,” he chuckles. “Did you not check who was calling before you picked up?”
“I was asleep,” you pout. “Kinda.”
“Okay. Go back to sleep, honey. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
You sit bolt upright, phone balanced between tense fingers and speaking directly into the microphone. 
“No! No, I’m awake. What’s up? Why did you call?”
A longer stretch of silence—you’re too sleepy to comprehend what it might mean, though never too sleepy to worry about it. With a pang of pain, you recall your strange goodbye, the words you hadn’t said. 
“I just needed to hear your voice,” he sighs. You frown, staring at nothing in particular in the pitch black room. 
“Oh. Is everything okay?”
“As much as it can be.”
“Right.”
More quiet. You chew on the inside of your cheek, stricken with a sudden feeling of awkwardness that you haven’t had with Spencer in a while. 
“I’m sorry… I don’t really know what to say.”
“That’s okay,” he says, and you can hear the smile in his voice which makes you feel a bit better, “why don’t you tell me about your day? Or you can absolutely go back to sleep, if you’re too tired.”
“Don’t ask me about my day,” you whisper, flopping down on the bed once more. Shame seeps into your voice. He laughs. 
“What? Why?”
“Because if I tell you you’re going to think I’m super weird and you’re going to break up with me.”
Laughter tapers off into gentler tones. 
“I already think you’re super weird. It’s actually one of your most attractive qualities.”
Blood rushes to your cheeks. 
“But it’s like… borderline crazy.”
Immediately, he replies, “for better or worse, I also frequently find myself attracted to crazy.”
“Thank you for calling me crazy and super weird,” you grumble. 
“I also called you attractive twice. Tell me.”
When his tone takes on that easy, assertive quality, and it’s sort of raspy and low because it’s late and he’s been talking all day, and you can hear the lazy smile on his face—you imagine him laying on his hotel bed, arm slung over his eyes in the dark as he grins into the microphone—you have a very difficult time saying no. 
“Fine. Guess where I am right now.”
“Um, I would hope you’re in bed?”
You smile to yourself, basking in the victory of successfully throwing him off his game even slightly. 
“Guess whose bed.”
Silence. 
“What an interesting question.” That cocky smile, the low drawling is back, and you chew on your lip, ignoring the shiver that runs down your spine. “If it’s not mine or yours, we’re going to have issues.”
“But if it is yours? You’re not going to call the police on me?”
“Why would I call the police? To tell them there’s a pretty girl in my bed and I don’t want her there?”
“To tell them your psychopathic girlfriend broke into your apartment and might be holding hostages there.”
Spencer laughs; a brittle, drawn out thing, flat and quiet as the desert.
“If you were a psychopath, calling the cops would be a waste of time. I would handle you myself.” The idea of being handled has your thighs clenching. “But—yeah, don’t invite anyone else in.” More humor finds its way into his voice, momentarily relieving some tension that had sneakily begun to build. “Having people in my space makes me anxious.”
“But not me?” Your whisper is half flirtatious, half insecure. Spencer’s reply is soft, as if he’s picking up on this from hundreds of miles away.
“No, not you. You are always the exception.”
“Good,” you say, cheeks aching as you half-bury your warm face into his pillow. “Because I made myself really comfortable. You have a nice shower, by the way.”
Spencer groans. 
“You’re killing me.”
“What? What did I do!”
“Don’t talk to me about my bed and my shower. I might start to think you’re intentionally being a brat.”
“You asked me about my day! I’m just telling you what I did!”
But you’re also intentional teasing him for sure.  After a pause, he sighs in defeat. 
“You’re right. I did do that. Tell me what else happened.”
“Well,” you begin, all too eager, “I had to put my clothes in the dryer after I got out, so I borrowed some of yours. But then they were way comfier than mine, so after I went to the store I put them back on, and—”
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” you frown. 
“Tell me what this is.”
“I—I don’t know what you mean.”
Lying to a profiler is usually pointless. 
“I’m not stupid, sweetheart. Tell me why you keep talking about my shower and my bed and my clothes.”
Caught red-handed. Your skin heats up. 
“I don’t know. I miss you.”
He hums in a way that blurs the line between sympathetic and patronizing. Even through the phone you can feel the bass of it in your bones.  It changes the frequency you’re vibrating at. It’s hypnotic. 
“But that’s not really why you’re being intentionally provocative, is it?”
“No,” you admit quietly. “I’m still upset you had to go last night.”
“So you’re frustrated and you’re taking it out on me?”
Your brow furrows. Well, when he puts it like that…
“I’m not taking anything out on you.”
“I think you are. And I don’t appreciate that, because I’m on your side, honey. Do you think I prefer being in a hotel bed by myself or being in my bed with you?”
Somehow, he makes you feel like a scolded child. But he makes it appealing in ways you don’t understand. 
“Your bed with me,” you murmur, skin prickling with the coldness of his absence even as you curl under the blanket. 
“Right. So why don’t you tell me what I can do for you right now, instead of punishing me for things that are beyond my control?”
“I wasn’t punishing you,” you mutter. 
“No? You weren’t intentionally talking about using my shower and sleeping in my bed and putting on my clothes so that I’d have to think about what I can’t have right now?”
“I—”
“Believe me when I tell you I have been thinking about what I can’t have, all day. Your efforts are entirely redundant and you can’t say anything about yourself that is even close to as dirty as the frankly disrespectful thoughts I’ve been having about you for seventeen hours.”
The lack of air is making you so dizzy your vision goes gray at the edges. 
“What… what thoughts?”
“None that you need to concern yourself with.”
“You can’t just say something like that and then not tell me!” you insist. He’s obviously giving you a taste of your own medicine and it’s fair but it doesn’t mean you have to like it. 
“I can do whatever I want,” Spencer corrects cooly in a way that pisses you off beyond belief because he’s right. It triggers some adolescent immaturity within you—a desire to get back at him, so to speak. He wants intentionally provocative? He can have it. 
“Fine. Then so can I. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it even if I could.”
“Spencer,” you warn. “If you don’t tell me what you were thinking I’m gonna—” you look around the room for ammo. “I’m gonna look through your nightstand!”
“Go ahead. I’ll warn you, it’s not very interesting.”
“Sounds like what someone who has something hide would say,” you mumble, crawling across the mattress through tangled sheets and using your phone flashlight to open the drawer. 
Spencer is patient and silent as you take in its contents—a small blue leather-bound notebook (full of what looks like Russian), a fountain pen, a glasses case, various kinds of vitamins, and—
“Spencer Reid,” you say, dragging out his name and pretending nothing is fluttering in your stomach, “what are these?”
“I don’t know. I can’t see what you’re referring to.”
“Take a wild guess.”
“Oh, I have one. But I’d like to hear you say it.”
You realize you may have gotten yourself in deeper than you meant to by going through his stuff. Well—they don’t say karma is a bitch for nothing. 
“What are you doing with a box of condoms?” 
He chuckles and you feel it in your whole body, warm as you stretch across his mattress and eye the box like it might jump out at you. 
“Those are years old. I’ve used three since I bought them.”
“Don’t tell me that,” you whine. “I don’t wanna think about all the other women you’ve seduced.”
“You wanted them to be for you, huh?” 
You flush. Honestly you hadn’t even thought about that. 
“I… I don’t know. I kind of just assumed…”
It’s silent for a second and you frown, realizing you hadn’t even considered protection when you’d imagined sleeping with him before. 
“You assumed what, honey?” he asks, voice soft. 
“It’s dumb. I can’t tell you.”
“You can tell me anything. I’m not going to think it’s dumb, I promise.”
You chew on your lip, letting your eyes unfocus on the box as you muster the courage to be honest. 
“Whenever I imagined it… we didn’t… use anything.”
The words make you cringe even as you’re saying them. So does the quiet that follows. 
“When you imagine us sleeping together, we don’t use a condom?”
“Ah!” The phone drops to the mattress as you cover your ears and roll onto your side, curling into yourself once more. “You didn’t have to say it! You make me sound so weird!”
“It’s not weird,” he laughs, because he can probably imagine exactly what you just did, “I just wanted to make sure I was understanding you. That said… we would definitely use protection.”
“Do we have to?”
The quiet words take even you by surprise—and they seem to stun Spencer as well. Several false starts are punctuated by a sigh as he gathers his thoughts. 
“We really should, baby. That’s the kind of thing we need to take seriously.”
“But you’re… you’re good, right?”
Thankfully he picks up on your meaning. 
“I am. I wouldn’t touch you if I weren’t.”
“And I’m good. So...”
“Hm. And has anyone ever explained to you where babies come from?”
You groan in frustration. 
“Spencer, I’m being serious! There are ways to negate that.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, “I understand that. But it would be irresponsible of me to say yes. We can talk about it in the future, but—”
“I’m telling you it’s already dealt with. The chances of an accidental pregnancy are slim to none.”
The new information hangs in the air for a moment until Spencer speaks—to your surprise, his voice is low and humorous. 
“That is… good to know. But even so—I’m setting a dangerous precedent if I always let you get exactly what you want.”
“Is it such a bad thing that I just wanna—I wanna know what it feels like? You don’t want that?”
“That’s not what I said. I want to know exactly what you feel like. I’m just hesitant to give in so quickly because it makes me look weak.”
You laugh breathlessly, caught between being turned on by the first part of his sentence and amused by the sarcastic second half. Your thighs clench and your hand absentmindedly wanders between them. 
“You know what I was thinking about?” you ask. Spencer hums curiously. “I was thinking about when you let me, um… when you let me touch you how you touch me.” He hums again, but you can hear the amused curve of a smile in it now.
“When you had your mouth all full of me and you looked so pretty?”
“When I—yeah,” you agree, too caught up to deny his compliment as your fingers brush your most sensitive spot through clothing. “And  how you got me all messy after. And I was wondering what it would feel like… inside me.”
He sucks in a breath. Your legs brush against each other and you twist slightly as you pretend like you’re not touching yourself just a little bit. 
“You want me to come inside you?”
“Yeah,” you whisper, brain short-circuiting at the way those words sound in his voice. 
On the other side of the line, Spencer isn’t doing a fantastic job of thinking clearly either. His dick is half-hard already and it’s only getting worse with each little noise you make that you don’t seem to realize you’re making. 
“Really? That would be very messy, baby. I’m surprised that’s what you want.”
“But I really want it,” you breathe. He’s not even looking as he slips his hand under the waistband of his pajamas and palms himself, his other hand rubbing tiredly over his face as his phone rests on his chest. This was not how he intended for this call to go, believe it or not—but he’s here now. 
“Yeah? Is that why you’re touching yourself right now?”
You go silent—which is more or less exactly the reaction Spencer had been expecting. Patiently he waits for you to deny it, in three, two—
“’M not.”
Now, he could explain how he knows that’s a lie. How your breathing pattern changed, and your voice got softer and airier, and how you started speaking with smaller words in fragmented sentences. But he doesn’t feel like explaining any of that. 
“I know that’s not true,” he murmurs. “You know what? It wasn’t fair to get you all worked up last night and then leave. I don’t want you frustrated, honey. I want you to do whatever you need to do.”
You make a little gasping noise, and Spencer can imagine the way your back would arch when you did it. His own hips buck slightly as his dick twitches under his fingers. 
“Where are you touching?”
“Um—over my clothes.”
Cute. 
“Go under them for me. Tell me how it feels when you’re touching yourself like that.”
It takes a moment, in which all he hears is the rustling of fabric, until you’re whispering, “feels… it feels good. I wish you were here.”
He inhales, freeing his cock and squeezing the base. 
“I know. Just listen to my voice, pretty. I’m right here.”
Spencer allows himself a few slow tugs as he imagines what’s happening in his bed. You make a squeaking noise, like a held-back moan, and his eyes screw shut. 
“I need them inside,” you whine, and he knows you’re referring to his fingers—the ones currently stroking his own leaking cock. 
“You can use your own, just give yourself a minute first. Remember what I said about needing to be ready?”
“I am ready��” judging by the surprised chirp you interrupt yourself with, you’ve proven yourself right. What surprises Spencer is the weak sound of disappointment you make next. “Spence, it doesn’t feel the same.”
“We’re different sizes, honey. Your hands aren’t as big as mine. But you can still make it feel good.” 
He almost says, 90% of the nerves in the vaginal canal are located in the lower third—in other words, within approximately 2.36 inches from the opening, which you can most certainly reach—but he refrains. He’s not sure if that’s good dirty talk. 
“You have a really sensitive spot about three inches up, right in front. It’s going to feel a little different than the rest of you when you touch it. I want you to try and find it for me, okay?”
“Okay,” you breathe, ever-eager to please even from a great distance. There’s a quiet moment. “I can’t—I don’t think I can r—oh,”
The moan is so pretty Spencer can’t help speeding up the motion of his hand, hissing slightly as his fingers brush against the angry tip with every pump. 
“Did you find it?”
“Yeah,” you whine, a weak, high-pitched thing. “Oh my god.”
“Be gentle,” he warns with some effort as his own hips jump slightly. “You’re really sensitive there. If you’re not careful you’ll make yourself sore.”
“I don’t care—holy shit—” the way your voice rises and tightens to a squeak at the end has Spencer moaning as he fucks his fist. A black hole forms and warps time, turning every minute into a second and every second into an infinity until he has no idea how much time is going by. He drags his thumb over the tip, smearing precum over his cock and whining as his jaw drops at the feeling. “Oh my god, Spencer,” in that same strained, high voice. “’M gonna—ah!”
He gets the general sentiment. 
“What, baby? You’re gonna make yourself come all over your fingers? Is that what you wanted to tell me?”
“Mhm!”
“Yeah, I bet you are. It feels good, huh?”
“Yes,” you cry. 
“See? You don’t need my fingers to feel good. Mine barely fit, you know that? I have to hold your fucking hips down whenever I put my fingers in you because you can’t stop squirming. I don’t know how you think you’re going to take my cock.”
“Spencer!” 
He knows. 
“Come, baby. Let me hear you.”
The delicate sounds you make as you bring yourself to orgasm tip him over the edge of his own—grunting as he comes all over his fist. 
“Jesus,” he strains under his breath, the word dragging out into two long syllables as his hips buck involuntarily and cum drips down his knuckles. He’s lightheaded and he’s created a mess and it all happened so quickly. “Fuck,” he breathes, a rasping chuckle as he reaches for the towel he’d dropped on the bed after his shower earlier. “You conscious over there?”
“I’m conscious,” you slur, breathing heavily. “I’ve never had an orgasm by myself before.”
“Are you proud of yourself?” Spencer smiles, wiping his hand off and making sure he’s otherwise clean. “You should be. I am.”
He’s barely kidding. 
“I’ll be proud when I can do it without your help,” you tease. 
“But I’ll always want to help you with that.” His already warm face flushes further as he goes over what he’d said. “Sorry I was so vulgar.”
You laugh. He blushes even more. 
“Are you? I think you secretly love being vulgar.”
“I don’t know why! I have no idea where it comes from. I would never speak that way in any other context. I should probably work on that. Sometimes I look back on the things I say and I’m genuinely appalled.”
“Well, don’t stop on my account. Personally I enjoy it.”
“Yeah, I think I’m corrupting you. You probably shouldn’t enjoy it.”
The truth of it weighs heavy on his mind, but he’s pretty sure his voice alone doesn’t betray that and you can’t sense it through the phone. 
“Oh, my god. Do not do that falling on your sword shit. I like being corrupted by you. If you stop I’ll be very upset.”
“Well god forbid you get upset,” he teases gently. Idly he wonders if the reason he’s suddenly feeling so depressed is because his cortisol levels were already high from the case, and then he jarred his system with an orgasm, spiking his dopamine and ultimately causing it to plummet without the oxytocin release that post-coital physical contact would usually provide. 
Or if it was something else. It could also be something else. 
For the millionth time, he wishes he was with you. Part of him also wants to go to sleep. But mostly he wishes he was with you. 
A comfortable silence settles over the conversation. In the ditch between words, you’re mapping constellations in the texture of Spencer’s ceiling. If you squeeze your eyes almost shut, you can imagine it really is the night sky. You can imagine he’s really here. 
You think about what he said—his apparently mindless vulgarity. Did it mean anything? Or was he just rambling to get you off?
“Spencer?” you murmur. 
“Yeah?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
He sounds earnest, perhaps a little tired, as he replies, “always,” through the little metal rectangle on your chest. He likes me and my questions are important to him, you repeat to yourself silently as you work up the strength. 
“If Penelope hadn’t called, last night… were you going to have sex with me?” 
Your lip tastes like his toothpaste as you chew it. Spencer sucks in a breath of air like he’s about to speak—and lets it fizzle out like foam on a carbonated drink. 
“I don’t know,” he finally admits, lamely. “That wasn’t my plan, but you can be extremely convincing when you want to be.”
“But why can’t it be your plan?” It’s an almost whine, pouty and childish—but the next words are quiet and pained. “Is it something I’m doing wrong?”
“No, no! It’s not you. You’re perfect. It’s—it’s complicated. It’s a me thing.”
Such trite words—such a ubiquitous, simple excuse sounds almost comical from his mouth when you know he’s capable of all the eloquence in the world. It’s not you, it’s me. It’s ridiculous. 
“Okay. Let me simplify this for you,” you begin with an uncharacteristic assertiveness that surprises even you. “I want to have sex with you. Either we are going to have sex or we’re not. So your future branches in two diverging paths. In one, we have sex, and then we keep having sex. In the other we never have sex ever. If you want to ever have the privilege of fucking me, then we just have to do it. Otherwise it simply will never happen. And I’m not eternally patient, Reid.”
Go me, you think, slightly breathless from your monologue. 
“Watch your mouth,” he says dryly. Something about the chastisement makes your stomach flip and your whole body tingle. “When you talk to me you call me Spencer. I will also accept Doctor Reid.” You wrestle down a smile, refusing to let him change the subject. A delayed sigh from him sobers up the conversation. “You know what I want. I’ve been very clear with you about that. But…”
“But…?”
Another sigh. A deeper, shuddering sigh, like his breath is searching for balance. Like Spencer is in a precarious position for which he was unprepared. 
“But—but to be completely honest… I worry that you’ll regret choosing me. And I know virginity is a social construct and I’m not implying that your worth will somehow be diminished if we have sex but regardless of my views on virginity as a construct, having sex for the first time can be weird and scary and it’s incredibly intimate and I don’t want you to regret your first time like I regret mine because you chose the wrong person.”
The words come at you so rapid-fire it takes you a moment to process them. And aside from all the ways you want to reassure him that you will not regret choosing him—that you could never, ever regret anything about him—one thing stands out. 
“You regret your first time?” 
Something between a scoff and a sigh travels through the line. You can tell he’s not annoyed at you for asking so much as he’s flustered himself with all his own words as he occasionally does. 
“Yeah. Yes. Sometimes I do. The person—she didn’t… like me as much as I liked her. And I was really, really in love with her, and she knew that and she knew she wasn’t in love with me—or maybe she was, I don’t know—but my point is, when one person likes the other more than the other person like them, things get complicated. And however you feel about me—that’s fine. It’s fine. I don’t want you to feel bad if we don’t feel exactly the same way about each other. I understand that this is newer for you, it’s different, I—I just don’t want us to do something we can’t undo because I don’t want to relive that. And I’m not saying it will never happen but I just don’t want you to make this choice when… when right now, I think we’re in different places emotionally. Regardless of that, I want you to choose the right person. I don’t want you to choose me and then find out that we feel differently after we sleep together and leave you feeling like you signed up for something you didn’t understand. I’m sorry. Maybe telling you this is selfish. But I’ve been thinking about it and trying to ignore it and I think I just have to be completely honest.”
Your ears ring like Spencer just fired a blank right into the microphone. Like you just got backhanded across the face and now you have the world’s worst case of whiplash. 
Every finger is numb and your blood is so cold it feels blue as it slithers thick through your veins. 
What you want to do is scream. What you want to do is go back to last night and stop yourself from almost telling him I love you, slap yourself and keep your cards a little closer to your chest. Because now he knows, and he doesn’t feel the same. 
You want to scream bloody murder. 
But when you try, when you unhinge your jaw and part your chapped lips and expect a bellow to come hurdling up the corridor of your throat with so much force it rattles your bones, all that falls out is a small, “oh.”
Maybe that’s worse. 
Spencer doesn’t reply. You hate yourself for feeling obliged to fill the silence. 
“I didn’t realize you…”
I didn’t realize that you don’t love me back. 
I didn’t realize I like you more than you like me. 
I didn’t realize you’d tell me to masturbate in your fucking bed and then drop this not even five minutes later. 
If Spencer Reid was able to talk to you over the phone with the same amount of affection and familiarity as always, like everything was still okay, knowing you love him and he doesn’t love you the whole time, he is not who you thought he was. 
“I’m sorry,” he lamely says again, like it could ever help. 
More silence. Now you can’t bring yourself to speak, so Spencer does. 
“I realize how awkward this is. I really didn’t mean to put you in this position. Especially not over the phone when I—god, I’m stupid. I’m sorry. But can we—can we talk about this in person when I get back? Please?”
Is that what grownups do? Is the proper etiquette for him to take you out to dinner and explain why he’s not in love with you? Is he going to break up with you?
What does one even wear to a breakup date?
“Okay,” you whisper. Your eyes sting, your everything stings, like you’ve been wrapped in a shroud of briar. Sheets that were soft a moment ago feel like sandpaper on open wounds. You feel like an open wound. 
Spencer sighs. It’s a sound of relief that confuses and hurts you even more. 
“Okay. I—okay. Thank you. Um—I’ll let you go back to sleep, now.”
“Okay,” you repeat—as if any of this were okay. But you can’t keep being that stupid girl who feels it all so much harder, who loves easily and begs to be loved in return, too naive to assume that someone who treats her so kindly might not reciprocate her feelings. It has to be okay, because if it’s not, you’re silly and dramatic and you’re just proving him right. 
“Goodnight,” Spencer whispers, and you can’t help but feeling that it’s the last time you’ll ever hear those words from his mouth while you’re in his bed. And he’s not even fucking here.
So you pull the blanket a little higher. You let your tears stain his pillow because they’ll be invisible by the morning. It will be like they were never here. Like you were never here. 
“Goodnight.”
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necromii · 26 days
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Some scrapped / barely used Discord Layouts I made + some icons I also didn't use ( besides the Bailu ones.. they're currently being used on my prns.cc ^^ ) F2U ofc &&. credit appreciated!
Everything used is official art / content I believe though do correct me if I'm wrong!
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dimiclaudeblaigan · 8 months
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this is a very venty post don't mind me :D
that nintendo direct was so horrible.
it was literally like 80 percent remakes and remasters.
never in my life have i seen an announcement video exist just to say "every game you've ever known since the 90s is being remade/remastered, sorry, we ran out of originality".
literally like all the video game market is anymore is remakes and the movie industry is just as bad.
the nso releases are fine because they're not like, remakes taking up full game slots. they're old games that are being made accessible and that's great... but there's no need to remake this many games when they can do that. remakes used to be rare. remember stuff like the wii u shop and stuff? with all the games they had on those things? now it's a tiny selection and everything else is a remake :/
also I feel like a lot of new rpgs are just like... lowkey fe knockoffs now instead of original rpgs.
i'm happy for like... two existing remakes, but one of them is mario rpg which people wanted waaaaAAAAAYYYY before the remake and remaster era, and the other is baten kaitos which im not actually happy about remaster-wise (the updated ui is trash, they took out very specific charms of the original ui), just happy that it will get more recognition/notice from people since it was never popular.
they also completely removed the english voice acting which like okay yeah it wasn't always that great but the voices fit perfectly and it wasn't as bad as fans meme on it for! it just sounded like they were talking through a tube and that was actually the worst part of it lol.
someone suggested to me that they may have just lost the data for it, but idk. i wish they'd just admit that somehow if it was the case, because it bugs me that the english audio is just completely gone when ultimately i really liked it. i wanted the game to be accessible to newer players, sure, but i also wanted the english audio there. ig that's because i grew up with it and i liked it, but it's still such a bummer for me!
paper mario being put on the nso and tyd getting a whole remaster does make me sad tho bc it feels like they're leaving the original in the dust when it was so good. if you're gonna do tyd, at least do them both.
good for innersloth though, i'm sure they never imagined being on a nintendo direct. they're the real winners here.
#DCB Comments#the FE fandom is just as bad too. every single solitary direct that comes up they're like#OMG FE4 REMAKE. like ??? I used to be just annoyed but#now I'm just feeling the “shut the actual fuck up” mood bc it's ALL they care about for FE anymore#nobody wants new FE games. they're just obsessed with the idea of remakes#it's more annoying bc it's all the majority of the FE fandom talks abt anymore#also does anyone even know if games on the NSO ever get a remake or if originals of remakes go onto NSO?#wondering bc I don't think I've seen a game on NSO get a remake or vice versa#like I was always wondering if Mario RPG would be on the NSO but it never was and now it has a remake coming#since FE4 6 and 7 are on the NSO I can't see why they would be if remakes were coming#also if they're in the process of making a new console do y'all still think they'll release Gamecube on the NSO?#idk if they'd release PoR on it since they'd prob remaster that one (I don't want a remake for it but remaster might be nice if they#update the map graphics and stuff) since it would net them way more money to release the game as a standalone but if they#did put it on NSO I'd really love that. I get up I play PoR. I lay down I PoR. I go in the car I play PoR (I don't drive lol)#but anyway yeah I'm just tired of every single Direct having FE fans being annoying as fuck#also ppl were apparently legit like omg the new banner coming means fe4 remake will be on the direct#oh my goooooddddd stfu at this point I just don't want it remade bc i am 💅 p e t t y 💅 bc ppl are so annoying abt this#when a leak for a new game came out (engage) from a very reputable source ppl knocked it and called it ''obviously fake''#(the joke is now not just ON them but IS them) but then when they got a ''leak'' abt an fe4 remake they ate it up#like wow lol. wow. they won't believe anything unless you say fe4 remake then suddenly they believe anything you say abt that alone#it's rly sad that my favorite game has become a cesspool of annoying fe fans#the thing is fe doesn't come out with a whole lot of remakes. it never has#it's just that when gaiden got a remake ppl have NOT shut the fuck up ever since#and I've seen ppl saying every game under the sun should be remade#frankly if they remake anything right now it should be poor fucking shadow dragon (yes. the remake.)#anyway most of y'all know how annoyed i get abt this lol like yeah maybe someday fe4 could get remade but#it's the fact that the modern day fans are SO fucking annoying about it now. back ten or so years ago fe4 fans were just happy TO play it#we were just happy to have it at all even in emulated form and it being an snes game#we loved it as it was and didn't bitch about it bc it wasn't uwu modern enough (and i've played casual mode since new mystery)#now ppl are just like oh i like it but i don't want to play it unless it's remade
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echidnana · 5 months
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I REMEMBER. What I was gonna ask. What is the least scary silent hill game. I want to get into it but I keep hearing it's so uniquely scary that I'm like. Nervous? To just start in blind. And I trust yalls judgement
HIIII YAY OK so preface that we have to actually played any silent hill but we've seen full playthroughs of all the main numbered ones (1-4)
in our personal opinion, the least scary would be the first one. partially because of the graphics and I think partly because it feels more... puzzle based maybe? we sort of felt like there was slightly less dread in it I guess compared to the others. and also the graphics.
silent hill is definitely uniquely scary, there's this sort of dread as you uncover what's going on and realizing the context for events and stuff like that. each silent hill game is definitely scary in its own way, but to us the first one felt the most like survival horror maybe? probably because the protagonist (Harry) is going in blind and doesn't really understand any of what's going on, his goal is just to find his daughter.
also in our opinion 4 is the most scary LMAO it's very creepy and certain scenes and monsters are just so genuinely disturbing, as well as the whole premise being. scary.
silent hill's horror is pretty scary to us mostly because we don't usually like more supernatural type horror? but the way silent hill does it is really really good, like the plot and characters and the subtle stuff, as well as the overarching narrative. like there are video essays about how silent hill 3 is about being a teenage girl and the transition to womanhood and stuff and it's SO GOOD because it's told through this really horrific journey and environment. that's one of the things we like about silent hill more than resident evil, there are bigger themes and are more well done in our opinion. like resident evil is a bit more light and the themes tend to be more about material things like human greed and capitalism while silent hill is more things like trauma and abuse and growing up.
that was kind of long ANYWAYS every silent hill game has a slightly different type of horror from the others, we would say starting with sh1 is good. it's a bit more straightforward and is slightly more focused on the protagonists physical quest to find his daughter compared to other games where the motives of the characters and environment feel a bit more convoluted and stressful.
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demiesworld · 9 months
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jjk men and how they show their love for you
☆ characters: satoru gojo, suguru geto, toji fushiguro, kento nanami, + choso
☆ genre: fluff, romantic, domestic
☆ contents: mentions of abuse & death in toji's part, but nothing graphic
☆ notes: reader is a female and uses she/her pronouns. ages are not mentioned in this, but the reader is of legal age. curse spirits, sorcerers, etc. do not exist. everything is purely fictional.
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— satoru gojo: cuddling
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he likes it when you two are alone together in the privacy of your home, cuddling together underneath a warm blanket while watching a really bad (in his opinion) movie that you picked out. and even though he really wants to critique the writer's script of the characters, and the actors acting performance, satoru doesn't say not a word to you about it. he just holds you around your waist tighter and nuzzles his nose into your neck. he likes the smell of you after a shower because you smell fresh and it's comforting to him.
— suguru geto: quality time
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to suguru, there's no better way to keep your attention on him than taking you out somewhere or just spending time together. when he takes you out on a date, he encourages you to silence your phone (or better yet turn it off) to avoid any distractions. same goes for when you two are being intimate. he's a man that wants eyes on him and for you to listen to him. he does the same thing for you. you want to tell suguru about the nosy bitch at work? he's listening and giving you advice. you want to go to the netherlands? he's buying a plane ticket in business class for you two. whatever it is, suguru loves to spend time with you as long as you are on the same page as him.
— toji fushiguro: acts of service
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growing up in the zenin family and being abused by them sculpted toji into the cold, callous man he is today. followed by the sudden and tragic death of his previous wife he didn't think he could find love ever again. not until he met you. you warmed this man's heart at the first time he saw you. he likes to show you that he loves you by doing things that makes your life easier. he'll pay and put gas in your car. he will help you with cleaning the dishes after a meal that you've cooked for. if you're running short on money for you rent, he'll even cover it for you and doesn't expect for you to pay him back. just the thought of you being comfortable is a good enough reward.
— kento nanami: words of affirmation
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with kento, you would wake up in the mornings to a good morning text followed by him reminding you of your beauty, your excellence, and telling you not to let menial things get you in a bad mood. in your lunches you would find a hand-written note from kento complimenting you. in spite of being a full-time salaryman, kento would call you during his lunch break to talk to you and listen as you complain about your coworkers. he loves hearing your voice. at night, just before your head hits the pillow he would kiss your forehead and wish you a good night's rest. kento can be quite the charming man when it comes to you.
— choso: gift giving
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choso... precious choso. he likes to shower you with gifts as a way to show his undying love and appreciation for you. if you mention that you like something, but you couldn't get it, best believe it will be either on your doorstep or in your hand within the next day. when he sees you eyeing something in the store for even a second, choso will buy it for you. he won't take any "no's", "stops", or returning the item back. choso bought it FOR you. if you return any of his gifts it will hurt his feelings and he'll think you don't love him. so be careful when you are trying to let choso know not to get you gifts.
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letter from demi: i have adopted a new style of how i do... idk what you call these blurbs? headcanons? idk. anyways im changing some things up with how my posts are... styled. i hope the work and the way it is made looks good! lmk what you think babes!
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floralcyanide · 5 months
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― 𝚜𝚘𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗 (nsfw)
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⌯ pairing: sub!coriolanus snow / dom!gn!reader ⌯ warnings: smut, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral sex (m receiving), nipple torture, cock torture, use of vibrator, use of restraints, anal sex (m receiving), anal fingering (m receiving), overstimulation, crying, aftercare, lack of safeword ⌯ word count: 1.8k ⌯ summary: when your partner is bratty earlier in the day, you ensure he gets the utmost torturous punishment. ⌯ author’s note: I literally wrote this in an hour and a half idk what happened I was probably possessed by the writing demon again kskskssk anyway thanks to @goosita and @virgosjukebox (for being unhinged with me in the gc) as well as @coryosbaby (for writing such tasteful sub!coryo and inspiring me to write a subby man again) I hope ya'll enjoy (: (btw I didn't proofread I just hope and pray it flows okay lolll)
divider credit: @arminsumi | @firefly-graphics | @cafekitsune ⌯ masterlist ⌯ taglist form
this fic has been cross posted to ao3.
ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡᴇʙsɪᴛᴇ.
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Not once did you think that the image of Coriolanus Snow lying in your bed tied up with blood-red silk restraints and his hardened, desperate cock leaking onto his pretty red lacy underwear would come to fruition. But it has. And the adrenaline rush is coursing through your veins heavier than the fast-growing arousal- your senses heightened when Coriolanus gives his restraints a tug, a whimper leaving his swollen lips. He’s pleading with you with his eyes, usually a cold blue, but now they’re so dark you almost can’t decipher his irises from his pupils. They shine with threatening tears from the dull ache in his abdomen.
You’re perched on Coriolanus’s thighs, tracing along the silk ties around his wrists that are raised above his head. You’re just as desperate in wanting him as he is in wanting you, but Coriolanus has been an impatient brat today, so he will be punished accordingly. Before he can react, you press your palm against his length, making the blonde squirm underneath you. 
“Please,” he whispers, his hips jerking up into your hand.
“Please, what? Use your words, Princess,” you continue to palm at his cock through the red panties, the wet spot of precum growing.
“Please touch me,” Coriolanus manages to say, his mouth drying up the more you tease him.
“Good boy,” you smirk, running a finger underneath the waistline of the red underwear, letting it come in contact with Coriolanus’s rock-hard shaft.
Any contact whatsoever at this point would send him reeling, but he fights the urge to cry from lack of direct stimulation. He’s growing impatient but knows what you’re capable of if he tests your patience. You slowly drag the panties down his thighs, lifting yourself from his lap as you push them the rest of the way down his legs with your foot. Coriolanus kicks them off, groaning when his cock slaps his lower stomach. While he was too distracted, trying not to let the sensation of his tip throbbing get to him, you perch back on his thighs, a new contraption to try on him enclosed in your hands. While Coriolanus has his eyes closed, you take the opportunity to attach a clamp to one of his hardened nipples, the burning pinch earning you a yelp of surprise. When you attach the other one, Coriolanus begins breathing heavier than before, almost uncontrollably wiggling beneath you. 
“Behave, now,” you warn, leaning over his chest to get close to his face, “Or I’ll bring out another toy.”
Coriolanus shivers, nodding and gritting his teeth as he wills himself to stay still. You stare into his pitiful eyes as you tug on the chain of the clamps lightly. He squeezes his eyes shut, tensing every muscle possible to remain in one place. But with another tug, more or so a yank, the feeling of his nipples being played with makes him jerk his hips again. 
“Coryo,” you shake your head, tutting at him, “What did I tell you?”
“‘M sorry,” he pleads, “I won’t do it again, please!”
“I know you won’t,” you say, reaching behind you for your other contraptions, “Let’s see. Which punishment sounds better? A cock ring or a nice vibrator, hmm?”
Coriolanus tries not to glare at you, but he knows his attitude earlier in the day warranted this. He just wants to cum so badly that if he could come out of the silk, he’d take you on this bed like a rabid animal. Instead, he focuses on breathing properly before nodding toward the vibrator.
“Ah, an excellent choice,” you grin, pressing the power button before settling on a lower medium setting.
You guide the wand around Coriolanus’s body, letting it trail around his stomach and hips, just close enough to his desperate cock to piss him off a little. Moving to his thighs, you squeeze the taut muscle there, letting the vibrator move closer to where he wants it. Coriolanus gasps as you glide the wand’s head over his balls, letting it sit there as he whines again.
“Feel good, baby? You like it when I play with you like this?” you tease, letting the vibrator explore the space between his balls and his hole for a moment, making the blonde cry out.
You bite your lip at the raspy sound, torturously moving the vibrator upward until it’s at the base of Coriolanus’s painfully hard length. You pull on the nipple clamp chain again, the sensations of both sensitive areas being toyed with making him begin to tremble.
“I wanna cum s-so bad,” Coriolanus pants, “Please, please, please.”
“I’m not quite finished with you yet, Princess,” you frown, removing the vibrating toy from his cock and turning it off briefly, “Open up.”
Coriolanus obeys and opens his mouth, allowing you to place two fingers on his tongue before closing his lips around you. He groans as he sucks the digits, trying to muster up as much spit as he can to coat them with. When you’re satisfied with how wet your fingers are, you pull them from Coriolanus’s mouth. He doesn’t even need to be asked what to do next as he already spreads his legs open, waiting for you. You reposition yourself so you’re laying on your stomach between high thighs, pressing your cheek into the apex of his right one. You spread his asscheeks only a little, given his legs are as open as they can go. Pressing one fingertip to his asshole, you carefully prod it inside, taking your time not to hurt Coriolanus. He breathes in and out, relaxing into the bed as your digit slowly enters him further. When you’re all the way in, you curl your finger and the blonde moans loudly from above you. 
“You’re being such a good boy, Coryo,” you praise, pumping your finger in and out of him tantalizingly, “Taking my fingers so well.”
Coriolanus is grunting as his cock grows harder, a second finger sliding into his hole to stretch him more. When he adjusts, you fuck him with your spit-coated digits, using your other hand to reach up and yank the clamp chain. You simultaneously tug the chain in the same rhythm as you’re finger-fucking Coriolanus’ perfect, tight little asshole. He’s near full-blown tears at this point but is too lost in pleasure to do anything about it. After stretching him out enough, you decide he’s ready for the next part. The sound of the vibrator coming back to life forces Coriolanus out of his pleasure-filled daze. The feeling of your fingers leaving him and his hole gaping around nothing makes him start to actually cry this time. 
“You got this, baby. You’re so close to being able to cum, I promise,” you say, stroking the skin of his thighs as you nudge his asshole with the tip of the toy.
It effortlessly slides in, Coriolanus letting out a long, throaty groan as his back arches. For a few moments, you allow him to adjust to the feeling of the vibrator inside him before thrusting it in and out. The moans the blonde is letting out are pornographic, and they only grow louder when you finally, finally, wrap your lips around the tip of his needy cock. Your warm, wet mouth sends Coriolanus into another place. The sensation of the vibrator being turned up higher and the back of your throat hitting his tip almost sends him over the edge. Almost. You sit up, removing your mouth from the blonde’s length before turning around to face away from him. Before Coriolanus can process anything, you lower yourself onto his impossibly hard cock. You’d been prepped beforehand, so he sheathes inside you without a hitch. Slowly gaining a rhythm, you begin bouncing along his length, fucking him with the vibrator at the same time. Coriolanus has now become entirely incoherent- his jaw slack in unbridled pleasure as his brain is clouded with overstimulation. He’s openly crying and moaning as you clench around him, his orgasm begging to be released.
You gasp, his hips managing to buck up enough to hit that sweet spot inside you, “Are you gonna cum for me, Coryo? Think you’ve been punished enough?”
Coriolanus just whines in response, letting himself only be able to thrust into you and grind against the vibrator the best he can. You feel yourself getting close, and with one harsh grip on his balls from you, Coriolanus finally feels the tight band in his stomach snap. A raw, throaty cry of pleasure erupts from his throat as his hips jerk uncontrollably into your tightness, his hot cum spurting inside you. The feeling of him filling you up tips you over the edge, causing you to clench around him with a vice grip, milking him through his almost never-ending orgasm. You help him ride it out by turning the vibration as high as it can go, and you can feel him grow hard inside you again. 
“Fuck,” Coriolanus seethes.
Watching him get worked up again makes you pathetically cum one more time, your walls brutally squeezing his cock into another earth-shattering orgasm. Coriolanus gasps for air as you turn off the toy and gently remove it from him. As slowly as possible, you lift off his now softening length before removing the clamps from his chest. Coriolanus’s eyes are closed, tears staining his cheeks. You give him a soft kiss to one of them before untying the silk restraints and running to a nearby closet to retrieve some towels. Quickly turning on the bathtub faucet in the next room, you let the water warm up before plugging the drain and adding some bubble bath to the tub. When you return to the bedroom, Coriolanus is still limp on the mattress, his breathing more steady than before.
“Think you can make it to the tub, love?” you stroke his face, moving some of the sweaty hair from his forehead.
Coriolanus hums, nodding with his eyes still closed. He rubs his palms over them, letting those baby blues flutter open weakly. He lets out a deep exhale before meeting your eyes.
“You alright?” you ask, a little concerned you did too much.
“I’m fine,” Coriolanus mutters, giving you a small smile.
You manage to guide him to the bathtub, letting him settle in the bubbly water with ease. Joining him, you help him clean off. Once the water becomes too cold to handle, the two of you dry off and climb into bed. 
“Sorry for being a brat earlier,” Coriolanus says, his face nuzzled into your neck, “It will happen again.”
You chuckle as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, the both of you embracing under the covers, “I know. But I’ll be ready to take care of that attitude next time, too.”
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miuszn · 1 year
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i’m actually so obsessed with your bouncer!ellie.. we need a fic immediately 🤭 -🪐
taste of lust
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SETTING : modern au
WC : 5011
WARNINGS : sexual harassment ( nothing graphic ) ( but reader is sort of implied to have trauma related to it , nothing stated explicitly tho ) , bouncer!ellie x bottlegirl!reader , idk shit about clubs so like some stuff might be insanely inaccurate but i did my best to research ( sorry in advance ) , dash of dealer!ellie bc who doesn’t love her , dom!ellie , sub!reader , teasing , overstimulation if u squint , ellie calls u pretty girl & princess , readers first time with a strap , ellie refers to her strap as her cock , i’m not fluent in english yet so there might be mistakes , not beta read
A / N : hello everyoneeee !!! i know this took FOREVER to finish and i’m so sorry about that .. i’ve been super super busy and this fic was so long omg T_T there was a point i started over completely bc i didn’t like the direction it was heading to .. this fanfic shit gets serious truly . in case u missed the warning there is sexual harassment in this fic and reader is implied to have trauma related to it . putting this here again to make sure u guys see it . anyway , i took so long to post this and so much stuff happened !! but alas , it is here , the bottlegirl!reader and bouncer!ellie fic !! this is my fav fic of mine so far so i hope u guys enjoy reading this as much as i liked writing it <3 ( and yes there will be a part two !! )
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
being a bottle girl wasn’t exactly the job of your dreams. having to deal with creepy rich men every friday and saturday night was definitely not something you enjoyed doing, but that was what paid the bills and allowed you to live a rather comfy lifestyle for a college student. the bad part no one tells you about going to a top college on a full-ride scholarship is that a lot of the students are rich kids who most definitely cheated their way through high school, who live in nice apartments paid for by their mommy and daddy, who use birkins and other designer brand bags as their school bags, who would never be caught dead eating at the cafeteria. of course, you felt out of place. you weren’t exactly poor, but your family definitely could never afford that kind of lifestyle.
you’re pretty. extremely pretty. and you knew you could use that to your advantage. so when you saw a new club in the city that was looking for bottle girls you immediately knew you had to apply. sure, you had to deal with a couple creepy customers every night and sometimes even had to remind them they’re not allowed to touch you, which was annoying. you also hated being seen as an object, and you knew that’s exactly how these men saw you, and what was even worse was those very unsettling “you remind me of my daughter” comments from older men since you were so young. but the money was the main thing you needed, and you were able to put up with all this because of the pay. although the salary itself is just enough to survive, most of your earnings were in tips, and you made good tips. with a little bit of flirting and pretending you were really into customers, you scored lots of tips in the hundreds and sometimes even thousands. that wasn’t really enough for you to be able to afford luxury items whenever you wanted, but you were able to treat yourself every once in a while and that was enough for you.
you and your coworker ellie are the only college students that worked at that club. she wasn’t a bottle girl, however, she was a bouncer. during busy nights the bouncers typically took turns being at the door, and the rest would be inside the club making sure everything was fine. she didn’t mind being inside, it meant she could steal glances at you. truth was, she was into you, and it was obvious. but you took it as her just wanting to get a reaction out of you. that’s what it seemed like. but you can’t lie, whenever she wasn’t looking, you’d stare back as discreetly as you could.
she was a little possessive over you, which you weren’t really aware of. whenever she saw you flirting with customers, she couldn’t deny she felt a little jealous. she of course knew you were just trying to get more tips. regardless, she still couldn’t stand seeing the way you twirled your hair, spoke in that sweet and flirty tone, and even sometimes gave them compliments, and the fact it wasn’t towards her. she wanted it to be her, and her only. she wanted you to be hers. but she never did anything aside from flirt with you a little every once in a while, because she was scared she’d make you uncomfortable.
ellie. where does one even begin to describe her? her strong arms, her short auburn hair she styled as a mullet or put in a half bun when she felt a little lazier, her mesmerizing green eyes. from the moment you laid eyes on her you found her extremely attractive, but you were too shy and didn’t know how to approach her. what’s funny is this is the total opposite of the character you put up for your customers, an extroverted, flirty girl. the thing with you is, you can flirt with people, but only when you’re not attracted to them. when you are, such as in cases like these, the main thing you do is avoid avoid avoid. you rarely had the opportunity to interact with each other, but when you did, you always felt she was trying to subtly flirt with you. it was the kind of flirting where it was hard to tell wether she was flirting with you or just being nice, so you simply took it as being nice because you didn’t think there was any possibility she could be into you. she was just out of your league. even if it was flirting, you didn’t know if she had any other intentions. so you decided to play it safe.
that night was different from the others. your boss informed you that there’d be a bachelor party tonight and surprise surprise, you’d be serving them. the thing about bachelor parties is they’re very demanding and their tips can vary a lot. and demanding in your vocabulary is basically a synonym for entitled. they’ll insist you sit down, have a drink with them, maybe even try to grope you or something. you were not happy about having to deal with them tonight, but your boss told you they were short-staffed tonight, so you’d simply have to suck it up.
the moment the group of about 15 men came in, ellie sensed something was wrong. she rejected about half of them at the entrance before being informed by her supervisor that it was a bachelor party. she didn’t really care. she knew they were up to no good.
“i really don’t think we should let ‘em in.” she crossed her arms.
“any good reason?” he asked, annoyed.
“something just feels.. off,” she whispered, “i dunno. feel like they’re up to no good.”
“i don’t pay you to do ‘vibe checks’ on people.”
“i still don’t think we should let ‘em in. feels like they have bad intentions. have you seen how they’ve been eyeing the rest of the female staff?”
“big deal, this is a night club,” he brushed her off. “that’s how men look at women in nightclubs, williams. suck it up.”
“that still doesn’t-“
“do you want to keep your job or not?” he snapped.
she sighed and rolled her eyes, defeated, and hesitantly let the group in. her eyes were glued on them until they sat down at a table, the feeling in her stomach worsening when she realized you’d be dealing with them. it was one thing for any of the other girls to have to deal with them, but for some reason, she found herself way more worried about you. you were newer to the job and a little younger than the other girls. she couldn’t bear the thought of someone possibly harming you, or taking advantage of you, or anything like that. she felt this strange desire to protect you, something she hadn’t really felt towards anyone before. she felt this way toward you, yet she barely knew anything about you.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
tonight was going to be a long night. the moment those men sat down, you could immediately tell. you could tell by their piercing gazes, which you swore you could physically feel even though you weren’t looking at them, that you’d have to remind them several times they can look but not touch. you heard them whispering stuff to each other while looking at you and then laughing and hitting each other as if they were a group of teenagers. you took a deep breath, put on a smile, and finally went over to their table.
“hey boys,” you greeted with a flirty tone, “anything i can get you guys today?”
“yeah, a piece of that ass.” one of them said, while the rest laughed.
you faked a giggle, trying to do your best to handle this professionally, as you would with all the other annoying customers.
“anyway,” you continued, “do you guys have anything in mind? if not, you can take a look at the stuff we have over there at the bar.” you said, while pointing at the bar.
“we’ll need a moment, babygirl.” one of them replied, holding out his credit card.
you nodded, took the card, and quickly walked away. you absolutely hated that nickname. before you took this job, you didn’t really mind it. but when you started getting called it by basically every single customer you eventually grew to hate it. if you hadn’t been working, you at the very least would’ve given them a death stare or contemplated telling them off (even though you knew you’d never have the balls to do anything of the sort.)
after a couple of minutes, one of them whistled at you to get your attention. strike two. another thing you very much hated. now you were even being treated like an animal. who the hell do they think they are?
you walked over to them and plastered a fake smile on your face and asked if they were ready.
“we just wanted to know what you recommend. i’m sure you drink lots since, you know, you work here.”
some of them chuckled, and you didn’t really get what was funny. but you decided to not start anything and just answered the question.
“well, we have lots of options,” you responded, “we have many of the classics you can find anywhere else, and we also have some that are less common. we just got the louis xiii cognac which is very hard to find, so i’d recommend that one.”
“yeah? are you just saying that ‘cause it’s the most expensive?”
“if you want less pricey options, we have those too.” you replied, avoiding the question. of course you were suggesting it because it was the most expensive. that’s kinda your job. you’re supposed to make money.
“we can afford it.” one of them said.
“yeah, bring us that one.” another chimed in.
you smiled and nodded, walking away. gosh, you felt them draining any energy you had every second you spent near them. you carefully took the bottle and put it on your tray, and grabbed a few glasses and put them with the bottle. you made your way over to their table, placing their glasses in front of them one by one, and although you weren’t looking at any of them, you knew they all had their eyes glued on you. you tried your hardest to pour their drinks quickly enough so you could just get out of there, but not too quickly that they’ll notice. unfortunately for you, they caught onto what you were doing.
“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a hurry?”
tonight was going to be a long night.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
ellie couldn’t wait for her turn at the door to be over. she made sure to peek inside every chance she had, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t eyeing you. she couldn’t help it. she couldn’t stop looking at how the black shorts and black baby tee you wore hugged your body and showed off your figure, and she had never been more grateful for the existence of the uniform. but above looking at you because of how attractive you were, she wanted to make sure you were safe. she had dealt with lots of men like them before, and she wouldn’t hesitate to kick them out if things escalated even the slightest bit.
after a while, her supervisor dismissed her and told her to stay inside to make sure nobody was causing any trouble. of course, she went over to the area you were, since there was no one watching over that area and because you were there.
“why’re you pouring so fast, babygirl? you in a rush?” she overheard one of the men speaking to you, with a sort of entitled tone. if she hadn’t been paying attention before, she definitely was now. with the way they were acting, it seemed like they didn’t notice she was there. you were clearly uncomfortable, but tried to play it off, you didn’t want to cause trouble or provoke them. she watched closely as they kept offering you to sit down and drink with them, not listening to you no matter how many times you politely told them you’re not allowed. telling you to “just have one drink, it’s fine” and “no one will know” and they “won't tell your boss.” but your boss was not the only concern. the concern was you. you didn’t know these men, you didn’t know what they could do.
but suddenly, one of the guys sitting on the edge of the seat pulled you in by the hip and forcibly sat you down. in that moment, ellie immediately went over to the table and knew she had to step in.
“sir, you’re not allowed to put your hands on the employees. i’m gonna have to ask you and the rest of your party to step outside.” she said in a stern tone.
“she willingly sat down with us,” one of them lied, “she just wanted to have a drink. nothin’ wrong with tha-“
“i saw what happened. no point in lying. now please step outside before i have you forcibly removed from the premises.”
“yeah?” he stood up to face her. “you’re just a woman. what’re you gonna do? you can’t get all of us out of here.”
“sir, back down.” she warned.
“or what?”
she didn’t respond. instead, she punched him in the face, breaking his nose. a few of his friends stood up, but before they could do anything, some of the security had already gone over to the scene and stopped them, escorting them out as ellie went with you to the break room.
“you alright?” she asked, seeing how shaken up you were.
“i’m, uh, i’m fine. don’t worry.” you responded, sitting down on the couch, still uneasy from the experience. you hated people touching you without your consent, even something that was sort of minor like this. you were already uncomfortable, and this just made it even worse. you didn’t notice ellie had sat down next to you until she wrapped her arm around you and you melted in her embrace. you felt a little embarrassed at how comfortable you felt with a girl you’ve only had small talk with prior, but you were able to push that feeling away because in that moment, you didn’t care. the fact she hadn’t judged you and said “it’s part of the job” or something along those lines, let alone saying you were overreacting was enough to tell you that you could trust her.
“do you, uh, want me to drive you home?” she broke the silence.
“i can’t. i have to finish this shift.” you mumbled. “plus, my roommate has someone over tonight. i can’t go home right now.”
“then, if you want, we can go to my place,” she suggested, quickly adding on “but just so you don’t have to stay in this environment, i’m not trying to be creepy i promise,” because the last thing she wanted was for you to take it the wrong way and be uncomfortable.
“thanks, but, i still have to go back out there and finish my shift.”
she was a little sad. if it was up to her, she’d make you quit and happily support you. she made a lot of money for a college student, between working as a bouncer and dealing weed on the side. she had more than enough to support the both of you, but she’d never talk about anything of the sort out loud.
“i can speak to management for you,” she said, “i’m sure they’ll understand.”
you accepted hesitantly, the voice in the back of your mind telling you you’d just end up fired. but that didn’t matter to you in the moment. you had to get out of there. you couldn’t stand it anymore.
ellie guided you through the back door, making sure you wouldn’t have to face those men again, holding you by the wrist with just enough strength to make sure she wouldn’t let you go easily but not too hard so she wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. she opened her car door for you, waiting a couple seconds for you to get settled in in case you needed her help for whatever reason.
the car ride was short and silent. it wasn’t the awkward kind of silence, more so the kind of silence when there’s nothing to say. it was a comforting silence, a drastic contrast from the loud music in the club that had been blasting in your ears for the past 2 or so hours. you were looking out the window, watching the city lights and buildings as you passed them. ellie would be lying if she said she didn’t steal a few glances at you when you were looking away. she couldn’t help it, you were just so mesmerizingly beautiful she couldn’t help but look at you any chance she could.
when you finally arrived at her place, you were surprised to see she had a house and not an apartment. it wasn’t a big house, but it seemed like it could house about 3 people. you were about to ask about her roommates, but almost as if she read your mind, she said;
“sorry about the mess, i uh, i live alone, so. don’t usually have people over either.”
“it’s fine,” you shook your head, “i’m just grateful you let me come here.”
she noticed you sounded like you were in a better mood. “you feeling a little better now?”
you nodded. “yeah. i guess i just needed to get out of there.” you bit your lip in worry. “but now i don’t know what to do. i’m pretty sure i’ll end up getting fired after leaving like that.”
“after what happened to you? nah. it’s understandable,”
“are you sure? i-i mean, am i not supposed to let them know beforehand-“
“you’ll be fine, don’t worry.” she reassured you. “you’re sort of new, aren’t you?”
“not really. i’ve been working there for a couple months.”
“so you’re new. got it.”
you playfully rolled your eyes. “sure, let’s say that.”
she smiled. “anyway, you wanna do anything? or do you just wanna rest?”
“i guess we could watch a movie or something,” you suggested, “if you want, of course.” you were surprised at how bold you were. it wasn’t anything too bold, sure, but that’s only true for everyone else. for you, something like that, which others might think is minor, is sort of a big deal. not only were you at this girl’s house, but suggesting to watch a movie as well. you were a bit scared that might’ve been too much.
“yeah, sure,” she replied, “you into horror?”
“uhh.. not really..” you admitted.
“it’s fine, we can just watch something else.”
“no, no, it’s fine!” you insisted. it was, in fact, not fine. especially at this time, horror was not your thing. it wasn’t a huge fear of yours or anything, but you were a little embarrassed of the fact you still got scared while watching them, sometimes even got nightmares. but no way you’d admit that to her right there. you felt you were already being too much of a burden on her, so you’d just suck it up to not bother her any further.
a few moments later, you were both on her couch watching some random horror movie she had picked out. you didn’t even know what was going on in the plot, you were way too scared. you’d argue this was one of the scariest movies, scratch that, media in general you’ve ever seen. where did she even find this sort of stuff? ellie was full of surprises indeed.
you didn’t notice you had snuggled up to her, your head laying on her chest, from the fear. once you realized, your face turned red as you pulled away in embarrassment and mumbled some apologies as you moved away. to your surprise, she lightly tightened her grip of her arm she had wrapped around you (which you only now noticed as well), telling you with no need for words that it was fine, and you could stay that way. you didn’t really know how to react to that, but you stayed. something about her was so comforting. you barely knew her, yet you trusted her as if you’d known her all your life. it was a strange feeling. you’d been on multiple dates with the same person many times before yet you still felt more of a connection with your coworker who you had only spoken to a handful of times beforehand. you weren’t even paying attention to the movie anymore. your mind was too busy paying attention to the thoughts racing in your head to process what was going on in the screen about a meter in front of you. you had lots of questions, and the more that popped up in your head, the more your heartbeat sped up.
ellie could feel something was wrong. she lightly lifted up your chin to make you face her, locking eyes with you. she asked if it was because of what happened earlier. you felt like you should look away, but you couldn’t. something about her was just so mesmerizing. you lightly nodded, not wanting to admit all the thoughts in your mind at that moment. you looked into each other's eyes for a couple seconds, before she planted a soft kiss on your lips. it was the type of kiss that happened almost as a reflex, the type that you have almost no control over. you could feel her try to pull away after realizing what she did, but before she fully pulled away you pressed your lips against hers, pulling her in this time in a deeper kiss.
before you knew it, you were straddling her lap as she placed kisses on your neck, occasionally sucking on it softly and leaving light purple marks on your skin. you hadn’t realized how much it was turning you on until you started lightly rocking your hips back and forth, desperate to get any sort of friction. ellie realized what you were doing, and placed her hands on your waist, almost guiding your movement, causing you to let out a few soft moans and whimpers.
“ellie..” you whined.
“i know, baby, i know.”
she carefully lifted you off her lap and laid you down on the couch, hovering over you. she tugged on the hem of your shorts.
“let’s get these off.” she said, as she undid the button and slipped them off you with ease, revealing your soaked cotton panties. “cute,” she thought to herself.
“i’ve barely touched you n’ you’re already so wet,” she teased, rubbing your clit through the thin cloth causing you to moan softly.
after a moment, you started to whine, tired of her teasing.
“desperate, huh?”
you broke eye contact as you looked away in embarrassment. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t believe everything that was going on. you found it a little embarassing, hooking up with a coworker you had barely spoken to prior. but as you had been doing the whole night, you tried to push those thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on the moment.
“don’t feel ashamed, pretty girl.” she said, noticing you felt a little off. something about her caring but almost demanding tone was turning you on even more.
she carefully pulled your panties to the side, sliding two fingers in, thrusting them at a slower but steady pace. this was better, but it still wasn’t enough. you bucked your hips ever so slightly, to tell her you wanted more.
“you’re gonna have to try a little harder than that, baby,” she said. she knew exactly what you meant, but she wanted to hear you say it. you whined in complaint, hoping she wouldn’t make you say it out loud.
“use your words, princess,” she smirked while locking eyes with you.
“please, ellie..” you begged.
“please what?”
“please, more..”
“good girl,” she said under her breath, speeding up her pace and thrusting her fingers inside you twice as fast as she was before, causing you to moan and whimper louder. soon you started feeling a knot forming in your stomach, making you attempt to grip the couch.
“ellie.. fuck..” you moaned.
“i know, pretty. but you don’t get to cum yet.” she smirked, suddenly pulling her fingers out.
you whined at her words and the sudden emptiness inside you, as ellie softly chuckled at your reaction. she found it so cute. she found pretty much everything about you to be cute.
she stood up, and went to grab something from her closet. it was a bright purple strap, and it was quite big. you weren’t sure it would even fit inside you. you watched as she effortlessly took off her pants and put the harness on, walking back to the couch and positioning herself, the tip right in front of your entrance.
“i want you to cum from my cock.”
she started sliding it along your slit, coating it in your slick, causing you to whine a little, before positioning it once again in front of your entrance and slowly sliding the tip inside you easily.
you were still a little scared since you had never done anything like this before. you’ve gotten fingered before, sure, but this was the first time someone used a strap on you. especially one this big.
“ellie..”
“hm?”
“i’ve never, uh,” you stuttered, “done something like this.”
“never gotten fucked with a strap before, huh?” she said, “i could tell. you seem kinda nervous. but relax, princess, i’ll take care of you.”
the nickname only turned you on more. you didn’t get why you loved it so much. it had never crossed your mind, yet you were now sure it was your favorite pet name ever.
with that, she started slowly sliding it in, looking at your facial expressions to make sure she wasn’t hurting you. surprisingly, you were able to take it all. she started thrusting it at a slow pace, gradually speeding up, but not quite fast yet. she definitely wanted to fuck you way harder and faster, but she wanted you to get used to the feeling first.
after a few thrusts you started to get used to the feeling, and it was amazing. she sped up her pace a little more, gripping your thighs, and this time she was able to locate your sweet spot, and boy was she about to abuse it. she hit it with every thrust, making you twitch and moan at every wave of pleasure.
“good fuckin’ girl,” she praised, “already taking my cock so well.”
“ellie.. please..” you begged, between moans, “faster..”
“yeah? you sure you can handle it, tough girl?”
you nodded, and she immediately sped up. she fucked you a little faster than you expected, and it was a little too much, but the overwhelming pleasure was, at the same time, addicting. the sounds of your moans and whimpers, her groans, and your wet cunt filled the room. soon, that familiar knot in your stomach started forming again, except this time it was much more intense, causing you to try and grip the couch once again. she realized what was going on, and started using her thumb to rub circles on your clit. you started tearing up from the overstimulation which was the littlest bit painful but also overwhelmingly pleasurable.
“i wanna hear you say my name, baby,” she demanded, “i know you’re close.”
and almost on cue, you came all over her cock as you moaned her name, just as she demanded, as she fucked you through your orgasm and finally pulling out with a slight pop.
— 𓆩♥︎𓆪 —
it had been about an hour since you finished your.. activity. she insisted on getting a bath started for you, and now there you were on her bed, in one of her t-shirts that was a little big on you, freshly out of the bath. you texted your roommate before getting in the bath to tell her you wouldn’t be coming home tonight, and of course, she didn’t mind that at all.
not only were you on ellie’s bed, but you were cuddling her, trying to sleep. she told you you didn’t have to, and that she just enjoys sleeping with body warmth, but you knew better. maybe it was true, but it sure as hell was not the only reason. but you didn’t mind. you acted stupid and like you bought her story, because truth is, you really wanted to cuddle with her, and you were even thinking of similar excuses if she hadn’t brought it up first.
“you awake?” ellie whispered.
“mhm, sort of.” you replied, in a sleepy voice.
“i just, uh,” she paused for a moment, “i just wanted to know. when will i see you again?”
“on our next shift together.” you joked.
“no, dummy, i mean like this.”
you thought about it for a moment.
“i guess we’ll see,” you responded softly, “i’m pretty sleepy. i think we should talk about this later.”
she seemed satisfied with your response, but she still had the fear you were only saying that to be polite, and you didn’t want anything more or didn’t want this to repeat. of course, she’d respect you if that was the case, although she’d be a little disappointed. but she felt there was something more there, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. you weren’t like any of the other girls she’s hooked up with before. she wasn’t exactly sure what set you apart from them, but she knew there had to be something.
maybe it was just feelings.
but even if it didn’t seem like that was the case because of your shy personality, you wanted something more. just like her.
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
Text
leveling the playing field II
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summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.8k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows. also someone dies (but its not too graphic), mentions of blood and violence you guys get the vibes.
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a/n: embarrassed to say this is grabbing me by the cuff of my shirt and yanking me out of writer's block sorry to everyone who followed for drew's characters lmao. anyway idek if any of this is any good but as long as i'm writing something i'm pleased.
next part
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Coriolanus clenched his jaw as he watched you eat from the plate of fruit your maid brought up after you called for tea, hoping that somehow you would just miss the sound of his stomach growling. He had said no, but you insisted because you were hungry. You don't even know what hungry feels like- he's already regretting letting you help him.
"So," You start, covering your mouth as you finish chewing so you could get down to strategy. If you were going to help, you had to go at this wisely. "What is your plan? Lay it out for me. I'll give you my thoughts."
"I talked to Tigris, she agreed that I need to get Lucy Gray to trust me." He tells you. "She said she would want someone here to care about her. That will have to be me."
"Okay." You nod, reaching for another slice of apple on the plate, trying to ignore the way his eyes track the fruit all the way from your plate to your lips. "So, I'm doing a more behind-the-scenes thing. I think that's better, for us and her. I don't want her to be overwhelmed."
"Yeah." Coryo agrees, staring at you. At this point, it's driving you crazy.
"Coryo." You state, pushing the dish across the coffee table in his direction. "Eat. Please."
"No, I couldn't." He tries to politely decline and you raise an eyebrow at him.
"I insist. It was made for two, I can't possibly stomach it all. It would be a shame for it to go to waste." You had laid your cards out just minutes earlier, making it clear you both knew more about each other's home lives than you cared to discuss, but that didn't mean you would torture him with it.
He hesitates before grabbing a slice and taking a few bites, looking past you and out the window. He wouldn't want it to go to waste like you said, after all.
"I won't tell anyone, you know." You say, your tone walking a line between joking and being serious. He'll interpret that in whatever way he chooses, and you're okay with that.
"I should be going, actually." He says, dropping the other half of the apple slice back onto the dish and standing up, smoothing the creases in his slacks.
You stand up as well, making your way to the door and ringing the bell that summons your maid. "I'll walk you out, just give me a second." You explain to him, and by the time you're done your sentence, she is there looking at you expectantly. "Take these leftovers and pack them up for my friend." You tell her, pointing to the mostly full plate. "And pack some of those pastries you made for his family as well, if you don't mind. Oh! And that bread, it will go bad soon if someone doesn't eat it." She just nods silently as you speak, walking past you to take the plate before leaving.
"Thank you." Coriolanus mutters through gritted teeth once your maid is out of earshot.
"Like I said," You smile. "I don't want it to go to waste."
The morning the tributes arrived, Coriolanus was late to class. He had never been late to class, not once, and you would know- because you hadn't either. Not that you were worried, but it was almost the only thing you could think about. It was odd, but he must have gone to greet Lucy Gray. That would be the only thing that made sense.
"Your little excursion is in violation of about five Academy rules, Mister Snow." Dean Highbottom says as the blonde boy walks in, uniform disheveled as he finds his seat across the room from you.
You make eye contact only briefly with him as the Dean goes on about how endangering the life of a student is against the rules, and your friend would be accumulating a demerit over the whole thing.
From what you can gather, he did go see Lucy Gray, which went farther than he intended when he ended up escorting her all the way into the monkey cage at the zoo. To you, that was comically appropriate. To Sejanus, it was a crime. Of course it was, his heart never left District Two. As much as you had your differences, Sejanus was a kind boy. You did like him, only after you got it through your mind that if you were to leave the Capitol, you would always be Capitol at heart. You're pulling on a loose string on the hem of your uniform sleeve, more, more, until you've almost undone the whole length of your wrist. When the thread breaks you want to hit something, for little to no reason, and you bite into your bottom lip.
You don't even know why you're so mad. You have a short fuse and you know that, maybe it's about Coryo. Maybe it's about your sleeve that's now slightly longer on one side.
You're drawn from your thoughts as Clemensia stands up from her seat next to Coryo, addressing Dr. Gaul who, as far as you know, had only been in the room for a minute or so. "Coriolanus and I do all our assignments together, I think it would be fitting for us to write up the proposal together too. I have some good ideas for things to be incorporated into the games along with betting." Your eyes roll so hard at this that it makes your head ache.
"I brought her a rose from Grandma'am's garden and she ate it. She needs food." Coryo tells you, walking alongside you down the hall.
"I'll get something together for her. Would you like to come with me to pick it up and then we can go to the zoo?" You ask, adjusting your shoulder bag as he holds the front door open for you.
"Okay. Are you sure you should come?"
"If you would like me to." You shrug, leading him in the direction of your parent's town car.
He thinks on it for a moment. Does he want you to meet Lucy Gray? You were technically also her mentor, even if you were taking a backseat. It struck him again, harder somehow, when he met her in person how similar she was to you. Besides the distinct accent, every word that came out of her mouth sounded as though it could have been written in a script by you. If you were district, that is. It was hard to wrap his mind around.
"I would." He finally answers, more so on impulse than resulting from his thought process.
You smile, linking your arm around his as you approach the vehicle.
"Then we can drop you at Clem's. if you'd like." You offer bitterly and he just gives a curt nod in response.
After getting your maid to pack some food for Lucy Gray with some extra for the two of you, assuming you would be gone for the evening, you got a ride to the zoo. The atmosphere was exciting, with people and children crowding the bars- this time including a few of your classmates. Sejanus, which you had expected, and Arachne- no doubt there to get attention.
"Lucy Gray!" Coryo called out, summoning the girl toward the two of you as you approached the bars marking the edge of the enclosure.
"Well hello, Coriolanus. You brought a friend, care to introduce us?" She smiles, looking between the two of you. Admittedly, you admire her poise, given the situation. Politeness in front of the cameras was a must- she's doing an exemplary job in humanizing herself.
"Lucy Gray, this is my friend Y/N Y/L/N. Y/N, meet Lucy Gray." He nods between the two of you and you reach through the bars to shake her hand.
"Hello. Pleasure to meet you." You smile at her, which she returns.
"You as well." She nods, clearly impressed as she looks between you and Coryo. You had decided back at your home to not introduce yourself as another mentor, just as a friend, after gushing the reaction to the other tributes thinking Lucy Gray was getting special treatment this morning when her mentor was the only one to show up. "Coriolanus, is Miss Y/L/N here your sweetheart?"
His face flushes red as he shakes his head, refusing to look at you. You laugh, not noticing his change in undertone as you answer for him. "No, no. Just a friend." You explain, digging in your bag for her food, wanting to quickly change the subject. "We brought you this." You hold out the napkin for her, containing a sandwich, a couple of desserts, and some plums.
"Oh wow, thank you!" Lucy Gray smiles, accepting it gratefully. "Hey, Jessup! Come eat." She calls out to the other tribute from her district, who you remember was assigned to Lysistrata Vickers.
He comes over, but doesn't acknowledge either of you as Lucy Gray holds out one of the dessert bars to him. "I'm not hungry."
"It won't do you any good to starve now. You need your energy." Lucy Gray insists, practically shoving it into his hand.
"I hope you like blueberry." You cut in. "It's a blueberry biscuit with pistachio filling. Made fresh this morning- I promise it's good."
He doesn't say anything, taking it and retreating to the rock he was previously sitting on to eat.
"Will you be sharing everything with him?" Coryo asks her quietly as he walks away.
"Why? So I can keep my energy up enough to strangle him? I don't think that will matter much in a few days."
"You can't trust anyone once the games start, so why trust them now?" You reply quietly, scanning over the other tributes, eyes landing on Arachne taunting her tribute. Of course she would- her arrogance never fails to impress you.
"Your friend over there seems just lovely." Lucy Gray says sarcastically, eyes following yours as you watch your classmate.
"Not our friend." You and Coryo respond at the same time.
"She's poison with perfect teeth." He continues and you nod.
"One thing I learned in twelve is that hunger is a weapon." Lucy Gray says. You're not sure what she means, but you nod anyway.
"Here, let's sit." You suggest, changing the subject as you crouch down to lay out a cloth on the ground to place the food on.
As you're laying it out carefully between the bars for Lucy Gray, you can feel Coryo's eyes burning into the backs of your hands. Lucy Gray notices this too, handing him a cookie from the pile.
"No, I couldn't." His default response. "You need it more than me."
"You were staring. Here, we'll share." She insists and he takes it gratefully, breaking off a piece and placing it in his mouth.
"Here..." You mumble, digging through your bag again and pulling out the glass container designated for his dinner. You place it in his lap, not giving him the chance to turn it down. "Packed it just for you."
He takes it off his lap, tensely getting up. "I'll be back in a moment." He tells you both, red uniform disappearing behind the small crowd.
"You can see it too?" Lucy Gray asks you, nibbling on half of a sandwich.
You nod slightly, eyes still trying to track him to see where he went, then landing on him talking to Sejanus who's desperately trying to get his tribute, Marcus, to eat some of the food he brought.
"He's quite sensitive about it." You explain. "I appreciate you being kind to him. No one else knows... I think. Regardless, you are very important to him."
She nods a little bit, watching you watch your friend. "Are you just buttering me up?" She jokes and you shake your head, returning your attention to the girl across from you.
"No, I mean it. It's more than the prize for us." You state. "Him." You quickly correct yourself. "I just want to help however I can, if you need anything else just ask, but I'll bring food every day. Or I'll send it with Coryo."
"Coryo, huh?"
"Well, yes. We've been friends for years."
"I see." Lucy Gray nods, both of you watching him make his way back over. You lift up his container of food and hand it to him before he even has the chance to sit down.
"What about you, Lucy Gray? Any friends back home? Family?" You ask, looking away from him as he sits. You want him to eat, but you know he would loathe you for watching, so you direct all your attention to her.
"I'm an orphan, just like Coryo here." She nods to him and his brows furrow at the nickname coming from someone new. "It's just me and the Covey."
"Covey?" You ask.
"Yeah, they're my family and we perform together. It's how we make our change."
"Well, you are a very talented singer. Jaws were on the floor in the Capitol during your performance." You smile. 
"I'm not one to go quietly, that's all."
"I'm not either." You agree. "I think we'll be fine friends."
Just at that moment, the three of you hear a scream that has you turning your heads as fast as lightning over to the source, catching the end of Arachne getting her throat slit by her tribute. You and Coriolanus are on your feet in seconds, running over to try and help her just as gunfire rings out, taking down her tribute for the crime of her murder.
You pull off your blazer, both you and Coryo using it to try and stop the bleeding, but you could tell it was no use. By the time you look up, the crowd of spectators was completely gone having rushed for the exits during the attack.
Just as you both realize it's no use, and that she's already dead, you're being pulled away by peacekeepers.
"Hey! Let me go right this second!" You shout, trying to pull away.
"You kids have to get out of here." One of them answers blankly.
"I have to get my stuff!" You complain, trying to wiggle out of their strong grip. "You want me to leave my knife over within reach too? Are you stupid?"
They stop, sighing as they let you go. "Thank you." You huff, readjusting your shirt before walking back over to where you were just sitting with Lucy Gray, quickly gathering your things but leaving food for her.
"Lucy Gray, are you alright?" You ask, seeing her lying on the ground a few feet away from the bars now, just getting up.
She just nods, the fear in her eyes starting to cease. 
"You're not shot?" You follow up with, looking over her at the same time she does.
"No, I'm fine. You go." She replies, standing up again and dusting off her dress.
"Thank god. Those idiots are awful shots!" You bite, looking back at the peacekeepers over your shoulder, Coriolanus now nowhere to be seen.
You stand up and pull your bag across your body, walking past them toward the exit as they attempt to guide you in the right direction. "Don't touch me!" You hiss, smacking their hands away.
"Coryo!" You call out, running to catch up with him in the academy hall the next morning. He slows down, glancing over his shoulder and stopping to wait for you.
"Y/N." He states, looking at you expectantly. 
"Shall we go see Lucy Gray today?" You ask, reaching up to tighten your ponytail that had come loose in your jog.
"No." He shakes his head, continuing to walk and you follow after him. 
"What? Why not? She needs us to bring her food, and we have to-"
"I'll discuss the games with her at the planned meeting this afternoon. You won't be going back to the zoo."
"Excuse me?" You ask, grabbing his arm to stop him in his tracks. "I know I'm like, your assistant, or whatever, but you will not tell me what I can and cannot do."
"It's too dangerous. They are dangerous." Coriolanus argues. "I won't have you ending up like Arachne."
He had been up all night writing his proposal for Dr. Gaul. It was the only thing that could get his mind off the death of his classmate, and off of you. What if it had been you? He should have known it was dangerous, it was his fault. It was his idea that the mentors get closer to the tributes and someone was killed. Arachne's blood was on his hands, and he was just relieved that it wasn't yours staining his uniform instead.
"No. No, she died because she was stupid." You whisper, looking around. "She taunted her tribute and handed her a knife, at that point it's natural selection. I am not her. I am smarter."
He stares down at you, scanning over your features as you beg him to let you continue to help. "You need me, Coriolanus. Admit that much to yourself."
"I don't need you," He spits back. "But I like you much better alive. You are the one person in this school I can stand, I won't lose you over something so reckless." He pulls his arm from your grasp and walks off.
You look around, seeing your classmates staring and you roll your eyes. "Take a picture or something." You say to no one in particular, prompting people to avert their eyes.
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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months
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Tiny Vox part 2?
Idk if you'll use this but I just want to give it to you.
I kind of headcannon tiny vox the be dumber, because the unprepared small body can't load all his data very well. So I imagine Vox, being stupidly in love, trying the help them when they are doing the dishes or working on their hobby bit he is just making more of a mess and smiling dumbly in love. Like when reader likes to draw heb grabs a random coloured pencil and bring it to them. You know just adorable but unhelpful.
Pocket-sized Partner: VoxPet™️ Care Guide
Tiny!Vox x Reader
A/N: So uhhh- here's a teeny little Headcanon thing while I write the continuation for the VoxPet series because I love smol TV guy. That and I'm starting to slightly feel the burnout, well- I can't tell if that's the right term since I'm starting to look at my ideas and realize that they're starting to lack the coherence and polish they used to. ANYWAY! Here's a Headcanon list for the small guy before I post the continuation for it- so I hope you guys enjoy! Happy reading!
So given Vox's mostly bionic/mechanical biology, it makes sense that he doesn't necessarily regenerate the same as other more organic(flesh-based) sinners.
Instead, he has spare bodies to upload his consciousness and switch into if the one he's using gets damaged and needs repairs or is just not worth saving.
Hence he has a couple spares lying around.
It's just in this instance, the only spare he had left was in a less than desirable condition-
And the others were still broken or just beyond repair.
Having a his brain be it's own practical digital entity also plays into this, I'd think in his paranoia he'd have copies of his own data stored in cloud servers all over the pride ring too.
So it won't be easy should someone try to get rid of him.
Anyway, back to the body switching.
So this new body Vox took is a very underpowered and overutilized little thing.
Imagine running a Skyrim with over a thousand mods on the highest graphics using a 7 year old dell laptop.
Yeah. That's what Vox is currently doing.
The small body is already running at full capacity with his overload of data and it's not even all of it.
Just the basic necessities like his personality and habits.
Like, what make Vox- vox.
Everything else like his schedules, alarms, work, etc.
They're just uploaded to a cloud server with the rest of his complete data.
Oh I forgot to mention, in his haste to make this tiny cute form-
He totally forgot to give it the ability to form even basic speech patterns.
Hence the squeaking and beeping.
He actually can't talk, not that the small body would even have any more processing room if he did do that.
Vox merely figured that you'd probably find some enjoyment anyway in his predicament until the new spare parts arrived and he didn't want to keep moving around dripping coolant and blood accompanied by some sparking wires.
Let's not even mention the cracked screen.
His face being messed up was probably the least of his issues there too.
So you kind of had to take care of him as that small little guy in that hastily put together body.
Also, because it's so underpowered and practically at it's peak use-
Vox can't actually really use his powers much.
Which he didn't realize only until after he flipped out when Velvette and Valentino found him when the staff were panicking from him suddenly going AWOL.
In this tiny body, he only has his generally human memorization skills to recall important things.
Not his flawless computer memory, which was lumped in with the data this body couldn't hold.
He did thank his lucky stars that you weren't so upset about the state he was in though.
You'd often flip the hell out when he got hurt or just had blatant disregard for his own wellbeing.
I mean, when you can switch bodies like the socks on your feet would you be careful too?
I wouldn't, I'd try every single way to die just out of sheer curiosity and boredom-
Anyway, after you got over the initial shock of seeing your boyfriend all plushie sized and everything-
You better bet he got fucking spoiled.
Literally like a chihuahua in a purse moment.
Y'all know those build a bear clothes and accessories?
Yeah no you'd dress Vox up and down in those tiny things and he just couldn't stop you.
He could figure out how to delete all the photos you'd taken when he got back to normal.
But if being treated like a doll was all it took for you to just drown him in kisses and hugs-
You better bet this man would go ahead and pull something like this again.
Plus the compulsion to just aggressively cuddle the life out of him-
Well he's already dead but the point stands.
He can't help but soak up your affection like a thirsty sponge though.
You do eventually realize that he actually has to be plugged in to recharge though.
Plugged in by a port on the back of his teeny head.
What, where did you think he'd put it?
You're glad that Vox tends to leave all sorts of cords of different lengths around your apartment.
Something to do with his work?
You had half a brain to tie him up with those said cords sometimes-
It was irritating at first but after you organized them to keep, at least you didn't dispose of them since you needed them now-
For once the hardware spaghetti was actually useful.
And thank goodness for the long wire, because he'd become extremely clingy after all the attention and affection you'd given him.
Tiny dude was sitting on your lap being pet and coddled while charging.
All while you were reading a book.
Yep. He was a spoiled little shit.
You also realized that he didn't need to eat because of the charging thing-
But he could if he wanted to.
As proven when Vox just took a small part of your meal and slowly ate it.
It wasn't even a full bite for you but it looked comically big in his tiny hands.
He installed a proper digestive system but not a text to speech thing.
Sometimes you wondered if your boyfriend's priorities were a little more wayside that you originally took them for.
He was so cute trying to help you with the dishes though.
Couldn't really do much because of how small he was-
Not to mention the fact you didn't even want to risk any more damage to him since electronics and water are generally not a good mix-
But he tried, and you'd count him being adorable as helpful emotional support anyway.
Even if he really didn't do anything aside from play with the bubbles and smile cutely at you.
If he didn't have an empire and corporation to run you might actually just keep him like this-
Even when you were looking over at some documents his secretary sent over to sign-
You guessed it was because Vel mentioned that Vox was in your care for the time being.
He was wobbling around holding a pen that was probably half his size.
Again cute as hell, but an unhelpful distraction-
Now when you went to sleep?
You plugged Vox in again and just cuddled him against your chest.
The same thing happens when he "sleeps" whether big or in this form anyway.
Screen dims and then his company logo screensaver pops up.
Anyway, I say sleep in quotations because Vox doesn't actually sleep in the conventional sense.
It's just one of the many ways he can physically recharge.
So if he does sleep it's often by choice or because he just passes out.
If he wanted to keep going physically, Vox could just directly connect himself into a power outlet and not ever run out of juice.
Mentally though- it's why he actually needs our version of sleep.
Or periods of system shutdown where he can actually mentally recuperate.
Otherwise he'd be a cracked out delirious mf hyped up on caffeine.
Which he is sometimes regardless.
Either way, you'd pet and cuddle him until he fell asleep before you would also succumb to slumber.
When you woke up though, he somehow ended up cuddling your face.
You had no idea when that even happened.
He greeted you with a happy beep and a heart on his tiny face when you woke up though.
It was probably selfish as hell but now you really wanted to keep him like this just a little longer-
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simplydnp · 24 days
Note
idk why this matters to me but in the last few months they've been acknowledging so many things I never ever thought they would. pinof and the touching. the phude multiple times. dapc slime (ok they had merch to sell for that one but still)
no but actually. phil literally said 'i thought we weren't acknowledging it' about the phude and now they just bring it up all the time.
pinof reacts... i still can't believe we're in a post pinof-reacts universe. how did that happen. i was changed permanently--like something shuffled in my dna when i got the notif for pinof reacts 1. this is not a physical reaction but a chemical one that cannot be undone. for something that was so... sacred. and integral. to their existence and history. pinof wasn't generally talked about unless it was pinof time. and even then it was 'it'll be up soon' or 'we just posted it' and then Never talked about outside of that. especially not the first one! we freak out about the We Know You Know in the newsletter but it's Always been like that with pinof 1. so to see them--new (& natural 🥺) hair for them both, in a house they bought and built together, in the first few months of giving the gaming channel a second chance--reflect on how it all began? absolutely devastating. and to lean into moments and discuss them in new ways. in territory previously not breached! the 'they're toUching'?!?!? the '11 hour fuck session'!?!? the '£9000 champagne'?!?!? like hey we're not supposed to talk about that, dan and phil might see!! shhh!! but they're the ones saying it!! absolutely wild.
in a way, it had to happen. especially with where we're at now (them literally selling merch of them holding hands). in order for them to move beyond that... mindset? i guess? that a lot of fans had, they had to defang it. i really see it as one of the biggest walls they've broken down in the way they communicate with us. the 'hey. it's okay. we've seen it. it's not a big deal. we will absolutely make fun of you for it though. but we're good.'
i'm just really curious whose idea it was. (lbr it was probably phil given dans not a react kinda guy. but i'd be lying if i said i didn't want to be in the room where it happened when they talked about actually doing it or not, and what it would mean) (big ad revenue thats for sure 🤣 get it kings)
i will never be able to get phil's 'they touched' out of my head and at this point i wouldn't want to. it's absolutely earned. and i guess it makes me a masochist to enjoy the psychic damage it inflicts on me, but such is life i suppose.
the crafts mention really surprised me! i had contemplated a few different scenarios in how they'd go about it, and i'll be honest i feel like they could've committed to the bit a little more but they're forgiven. like what about glitchy interstitials! cuts to the merch website. found footage inserted between sections! i recognize they don't want to 'scare' their usual audience wirh sudden cuts to intense/graphic content but my immersionnn. absolutely shattered by 'oh we have new merch now btw'. cmon boys you love to lie to us. say theres merch up but you dont know where it came from. just that we should buy it 👀 or idk, something clever. and i recognize i may sound like a spoilt brat bc i just got a 14 minute long masterpiece of an unexpected dapc revival, but my immersion. i mean i already bought the merch before they shilled it anyways so it didn't influence me regardless 🤣
ultimately we really are in a new era. even beyond just the revival. i think they're really finding their stride--not only in their content (evidenced by a semi-regular schedule) but also creatively, in doing what they want to do, how they want to do it, and truly not giving that much of a fuck anymore. and i'm really happy for them. phil talked a bit about this in his 'rating my icons' video, where he's kind of decided he doesn't care what people on twitter think, and how it's been good for him, and i think we're seeing that reflected in not only his content, but also the gaming channel. they play what they want. they say what they want. and it's just fun. dan going on the record to say he's really enjoying it makes me so happy to hear, because literally december 2022 he believed he'd disappear after WAD. and now, instead, he gets to play games and make stupid jokes and smile and laugh multiple times a week, and he's really happy about it. he gets to be silly and goofy and crude without having to Stress about it. i keep saying it but they're so settled now. and as someone who's followed them through big changes and turbulent times, getting to see them happy after everything... it brings a lot of hope. and i know theyre millionaires. but there's something to looking at someone you fell in love with 15 years ago the same then as you do now. but instead of it being something scary, something you have to hide, something that feels like it can consume you and everything you have--it gets to be something beautiful. and regular. and embraced. you've read this far you get to listen to me wax poetic about them.
we've been thoroughly boiled and maybe, just maybe, it's warming our hearts too.
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sundrop-writes · 5 months
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Your First Kiss With Dick Grayson
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Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader
Summary:
The Titans have faced a lot together, but never something quite as troubling as the possible return of an inter-dimensional demon that shreds apart worlds and leaves nothing standing in its wake.
You hate to admit it, but even standing with your team - you're afraid. Dick tries his best to comfort you, but for once during his career as noble, selfless team leader - he takes a moment to be selfish, and does something that he has been avoiding doing for years.
Dick Grayson x Gender Neutral Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 4, Episode 6.
Word Count: 2,900
DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: this one is a bit more on the angsty side; this fic features major spoilers for season 4 (and for the majority of the show) - so if you're watching it for the first time or you haven't seen it yet and you want to watch it spoiler free, then avoid this fic for now; the reader character is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; the reader is one of the original Titans; the reader and Dick are childhood friends through the Justice League - the reader is the adoptive child of Oliver Queen/Green Arrow (the reader is a talented marksman and trained in combat); the reader is mentioned to be an orphan (again, aren't all good superheroes); major pining from Dick - he has had a crush on the reader since they were kids (most of this is from his POV, so it's not specified if the reader has returned his feelings for just as long); mentions of canon character deaths; a lot of this is from Dick's POV so - warnings for Dick being emotionally constipated and referring to romantic feelings as a 'disease'; this is an AU where Dickkory never happened; mentions of canon violence - not described in graphic detail; mentions of the apocalypse/the world ending (and the anxiety this can cause); the reader is feeling extreme fear/anxiety due to the possible end of the world; technically - unresolved pining. I believe that's it.
A/N: The second part of the First Kiss series! I had a lot of fun with this one. This is the first really romantic fic I have written for Dick, and I enjoyed it so much omg. I was so tempted to write an enemies to lovers version with him, because he annoys me so much in the canon, and I feel like 'kissing in the middle of a heated argument' would work so well with his character - but maybe we'll save that one for Jason (or Hank, idk). instead, I went with emotionally constipated Dick Grayson, because that is sooo canon. he would not admit his feelings for someone if he had a gun to his head. and I had a lot of fun writing this mostly from his POV. I feel like he is such an interesting POV character to work with, so I might do more from him in the future. anyway, please enjoy!!
...
Stress. 
There were few other words to describe the horrible feeling that was dense in the air around them. 
Everyone was looking to Dick for answers, and unfortunately, he had none. Sebastian was missing, likely kidnapped by Mother Mayhem in order to complete a ritual that would likely mean the end of the world. Rachel had lost her powers and the Titans needed her unique form of magic now more than ever. Tim was impatient, annoyed because Dick wasn’t letting him use the minimal training that he had. But of course, Dick was hesitant to let the next would-be Robin off the bench after what had happened to Jason. 
(Dick could barely bring himself to think about Jason these days.) 
Kory was having difficulty controlling her newfound powers, and so was Gar. Which left the team weakened on all sides. Jinx was helpful on the magic front, but she was far from easy to control when it came to executing plans and corralling her rather wild personality. 
And Dick didn’t even want to think about what was happening with Conner. He just had to pray that this whole shaved-head, Lex Luthor impression was part of his mourning for his would-be father, and hopefully - it would be temporary. 
All of the chaos among the team left Dick leaning on you. As usual, you were likely the only person on the team who wasn’t experiencing any extreme drama. You were the only Titan with some true stability. 
And you were the person on the team with the most experience. Even more than Dick himself. Beyond being part of the original Titans team that had helped to found The Tower, you had been trained under Oliver Queen, who was part of the Justice League as Green Arrow. Ollie had taken you on as his own child when your parents died and left him as your carer in their will. Naturally, early into your childhood, he had started training you in the art of combat and marksmanship - so you grew up with intense skill. 
You and Dick met soon after he was adopted by Bruce. And much like Donna, you were a kind face and a wise voice that kept him mentally grounded well into adulthood. But you were also someone mischievous that made him smile; someone he could always turn to for a well timed laugh. 
You always kept him sane. 
And very much unlike Donna - soon after he met you, Dick started to develop feelings for you. 
Of course, back then, it was just a silly crush. When he told Donna about it at the time, she laughed. And when he had hidden his face in embarrassment, she then told him that it was ‘cute’. She told him that you two would be good together when you got older. So naturally, Dick took her words as biblically concrete advice. 
He decided that he should wait for you. That the two of you would be good together when you got older. 
So he waited. 
And he waited. And eventually - life got in the way. 
He had a huge falling out with Bruce, things at the Tower went south. It was never the right time to tell you. How the hell could he tell his best friend that he had those big, terrifying feelings mounting inside of him, worsening each year like a disease? 
It was never the right time to tell you because he was dodging disasters left and right and he needed you more as a friend than as a lover. He needed you as a brick wall to lean on. He needed you as that voice of common sense in his ear - the leader’s loyal first mate, giving him advice behind the curtain and keeping his head on straight. 
He didn’t need to tell you about his awful, festering feelings and have you gone from his life too. 
When Garth died, and then Jericho died and the Tower shuddered, it still didn't feel like the right time. Wounds were tender and even if you were never downright angry at him like everyone else was - you needed your space. Dick respected that. 
That day, you stood at the mouth of the elevator, about to leave for Star City to go and lick your emotional wounds at Ollie’s for a while, and you looked at Dick with tears in your eyes - looked at him like you were waiting for him to say it. But it wasn’t the right time. 
He still thought about you every single day when he was in Detroit. And then - he showed up at your door with a scared little girl, needing more advice, needing that brick wall again. It was only natural that when chaos found him, he needed your help. 
He hated that your advice was to call in Dawn and Hank. He relied on you, and you relied on family. And he hated that they were waiting at your apartment, called against his will once he had left to do some more sleuthing. 
But he found that you were right when he saw how Dawn bonded with Rachel, when Hank put up a vicious fight against those strangers who came to collect her in the name of her father. 
Watching you get thrown off that roof sent Dick’s heart through his stomach. As he clung onto the rooftop with his fingers and the muscles of his arm burned, all he could think about was you. As you sputtered out blood and he cradled your head, unsure of how to help you, terror gripped him in a way that it never had before in his life, because he realized that he might actually lose the most important person in his life. 
As you lay in the hospital, a set of machines barely keeping you alive, with Dawn loyally holding your hand in comfort and Hank seething to get revenge on the people who had hurt you - Dick ached with regret and not having told you. 
Still, when you showed up at that house in Ohio, somehow magically awakened from your near death by Rachel's powers - Dick felt that it just wasn't the right time. He swallowed his regrets like ash in his mouth when he reunited with you, hugged you tight. He didn’t even consider telling you about his feelings to be on the radar of possibility. 
When you came back to the Tower to help bring in Doctor Light - it just wasn't the right time. When you showed up in Gotham to help bring down Red Hood - it just wasn't the right time. 
Even when Dick died and was brought back to life by some strange magical pit, a pool of waters that brought him dreams of a far off life with you - it still wasn’t the right time. 
You were there to Dick's call, loyal and waiting, every single time. You looked at him with as much love and longing in your eyes as he needed (at least, according to Dawn and Donna you did) - but still, it never felt like the right time. 
It never felt like the right time to destabilize his entire life by uprooting the one good friendship he had. It never felt like the right time to truly fuck things up with you. 
Now, because of some cult that Dick believed to be long gone and a stupid blood ritual, the world was ending, and it still didn't feel like the right time. 
He wasn't the son of a demon from another dimension, but he still felt cursed. 
When Dick saw you slip out of the room, clearly trying to sneak away from the group, his stomach twisted with nerves. It was rare that you of all people cracked under the pressure. It was rare that you needed to escape from the madness for a breath. He mumbled an excuse to Kory and then chased after you, knowing that it wouldn't be hard to tell where he was truly going - but truthfully, he didn’t care. 
He easily caught you in one of the late night deserted halls of STAR Labs. 
The many glass walls overlooked the city - a collection of bright lights that made up Metropolis. Thousands of people that you never knew, that you had never met before. People that all seemed too important now as you contemplated their lives; thought about the fact that you might not be able to save them. 
Dick saw the sickly look on your face, the glassy sheen of guilt in your eyes even from far off as you leaned on the polished titanium railing that separated the upper floors from the atrium. His footsteps echoed in the empty hall and you heard him approaching from far off. He made no effort to sneak up on you or conceal himself, not wanting to startle you when you were already in such a distressed state. 
The minute you looked over your shoulder and saw him, your face broke from that dark, doomed frown into a haste smile, and you reached up to wipe away your tears, attempting to be subtle with that motion. You were trying to hide yourself from him. 
Dick came to stand beside you, resisting the urge to pull you into his arms. He desperately wanted to shelter you away from any fear you might be feeling. Maybe it was selfish; wanting to hold you, wanting to protect you from anything in the world that could possibly harm you. Maybe it was downright idiotic - because realistically, he knew that couldn't protect you from this kind of harm. He couldn’t protect you from the world ending. 
“Y/N-” Dick murmured your name gently, clutching a fist tightly by his side to resist the urge to reach out and soothe a hand over the trembling muscles of your jaw. 
You were holding in a sob, and it came out as a harsh, sarcastic laugh instead. 
“I know.” You said. “I know. You're doing that Team Leader Guy Thing.” 
You tried to make it sound playful and joking, but with your voice wet and soaked with worry and fear, it came off as a pathetic bid to deflect. 
Dick wasn’t sure how to reply. Because yes, he was doing that ‘Team Leader Guy Thing’. He was trying his best to, anyway. 
“You're gonna ask ‘are you okay?’ and I'm gonna lie and say ‘I'm fine, boss. All good.’” You continued. 
At least you were being straightforward about it being a lie. 
Dick wished that he had something genuinely helpful to say, but his throat stalled with dryness and his chest ached at seeing you so distraught. It really wasn’t something that he was used to. 
“I mean, it's not like it's the end of the world.” You let out another dry, sarcastic laugh. 
Then, there was a moment of silence - a beat of realization as your chin quivered and more thick tears rimmed your eyes. 
“It's - it's only the end of the world.” You spoke these words heavier, dropping any false laughter in your tone - it truly hit you. Any further jokes you could make left you. 
Dick choked on his own tears when he heard the aborted sob in your chest - something that came out as a whimper when you reached up to clutch at your heart. 
You were genuinely terrified. Terrified that the Titans wouldn’t be able to find a solution in time. Terrified that everyone was going to die. Not just the people you loved, but - everyone. 
“Hey, come on.” Dick said, his leader instincts, his natural caring for you kicking in. “We've been through worse.” 
Working with the Titans, you had been through a lot. Drug busts, battling against costumed psychopaths, the loss of a dear friend to a dangerous assassin. But you weren’t sure that you had been through something worse than this. Everything the Titans had been through had never affected the world on such a large scale. 
“Have we?” You argued gently. 
Perhaps not. Maybe the only time the team had been in such dire straits was the first time Trigon attempted to come to earth. But that had been when Rachel had been armed with her powers and had been prepared to take him down. But Dick wasn't going to voice those thoughts to you. 
You waited in agony for him to say something, and your tears finally breached - rolling down your face in hot tracks, laying marks of the true fear you were feeling, laying it all bare for the first time. Dick knew that his own eyes reflected that same glossy hurt now, if only for the pain he felt in seeing you cry - something that was so incredibly rare over the time he had known you. 
Dick reached out and gently cupped the side of your cheek, running his thumb across your face and wiping some of those tears away. You were so startled by the tenderness of the touch that you couldn't help but to let out a whimper, and you felt frozen as Dick spoke his next words. 
“It's gonna be okay.” He told you, trying his hardest to sound confident in the words. “We're gonna get through this. I know we will.” 
This time, unlike many before, you couldn't be inspired by his confidence. 
“Have you - have you considered what happens if we don't?” Your voice barely reached above a whisper, barely daring to tempt fate with this possibility. 
Honestly, Dick had not. In these kinds of situations, he didn't allow himself to focus too much on the negative. As the team leader, he did have to take all the possibilities into account. It was something he had to do in order to keep everyone safe. But if he focused too much on death and darkness, much like Bruce did, then he knew that paranoia would overtake him and his team would get caught in the crossfire. 
He had to spend his time coming up with solutions to fix the problem rather than spending his time caught up in knots, worrying about what would happen if he fumbled and didn't actually fix things after all. 
The literal end of the world? It just wasn't a possibility in this mind. 
But right now, standing there, staring into your big eyes, glossed over with fear as you looked to him for answers - there was only one thing that Dick could think of. 
And it was so incredibly selfish. It didn’t have anything to do with the team or being a good leader. It didn’t have anything to do with helping the others. 
Dick brushed his thumb over your cheek again, an incredibly tentative touch that had your skin tingling. You let out a small sigh, and the world froze around you when he leaned in - slowly, moving toward you at a pace that more than gave you time to escape if you wanted to. But you found that you didn’t want to. You found his closeness to be an incredible comfort in these moments of mental chaos. 
And so, he gently planted his lips on yours. 
It should have come as a shock - your childhood best friend kissing you. But in that moment, it just felt right. All you could do was shut your eyes and lean into the kiss, reaching up to grip his wrist, keeping him close to you as you leaned into his smothering heat. His lips were surprisingly soft, and he tasted like coffee - using caffeine to keep himself awake for days, trying to marathon a solution against the impending doom. 
His kiss was firm but so giving - a touch that easily swallowed you up with heat from the top of your head all the way down to your toes. It was a sensation that pushed out the rest of the world, smothered any worries about who or what might bring an end to it. 
It was the most tender, but most wonderfully passionate kiss that you had ever experienced in your life. 
When he pulled away, you sucked in a sharp breath, suddenly feeling incomplete without his lips on yours. The shock then began to set in, like pulling the knife from a stab wound and feeling the blood rush out of you freely. It created a dizzying mixture with the heat that was now boiling under your skin. 
Why? Your brain screamed out as you stared at him. When? How long had he wanted to kiss you? How long had you been missing out on Dick Grayson? 
Dick could see all those questions bubbling beneath your surface as the fear in your eyes shifted to confusion, and he finally decided to speak. 
“I'm sorry.” He said quietly. “But if the world does end, I couldn't die without knowing what kissing you is like.” 
“Dick-” You sighed, about to go on a long rant about how he could have done that years ago, about how he should have - and the end of the world was a shitty excuse. 
But you abruptly cut off your own words when more footsteps squeaked down the hall - the rubber soles of sneakers scuffing against the polished floor. 
Dick jumped away from you as though he had been burned, clearly wanting to keep the interaction private. Both of you tuned to see Gar approaching. 
“Dick?” He posed. Gar had a look of confusion, clearly wondering if he should question what was going on between the two of you but swallowing it. 
“Yeah?” Dick replied. 
“Um - Conner's missing.” He announced this in a nervous, meek tone, not wanting to bring the team leader any more bad news. 
“What?” Dick gaped. 
There was no time to further discuss what Dick had said to you. With the end of the world in your hands, it easily fell to the back of your mind. 
...
If you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.
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eetherealgoddess · 3 months
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helloo, I just want to tell you I've been your fan since I downloaded tumblr. I can't, your fanfics are to die for. 😭 I'm sorry, I've been the one liking your stories from the start, I hope it doesn't bother you and I'm sorry if it does.
can I request a really really dark supernatural au smut bonten x fem reader? I can't explain how much I love your supernatural au fanfics😭
Although idk who you are specifically, I appreciate all your likes and the request so you don’t have to be sorry!! I embrace all feedback!! Unfortunately, I don’t think I made this dark enough, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!! ♡︎♡︎♡︎
Y’all it’s wild cuz blood actually makes me queasy and uncomfortable. Especially gore and yet I write and read it even though I gotta pause to breathe from time to time lmao. This one is FULL of blood and gore. So be mindful!! ꨄꨄꨄ
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ꨄBlood Thirstyꨄ
Oneshot - Yandere Bonten Djinn Au
❦Your blood is enticing to Bonten❦
Sano Manjiro, Hanemiya Kazutora, Sanzu Haruchiyo, & Haitani Brothers x Reader
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MY TR FANDOM WORKS ARE ONLY ON TUMBLR, AO3, AND WATTPAD UNDER EETHEREALGODDESS! REPORT IF YOU SEE IT POSTED UNDER ANYONE ELSE BUT ME!!!
The male leads are Djinn, based off of the show Supernatural, though I’ve created my own version for the story. I’ve never watched the show but I searched up supernatural monsters and found Djinn.
In this story, they’re tattooed beings who drink blood and eat flesh. They trap their victims by luring them with their glowing eyes that cause a hypnotic trance. Their tattoos will glow the same color as their eyes. They can only be killed with a silver knife laced with an antidote created by Djinn slayers.
Djinn are not mine nor is this the original type of creature. There’s also another definition that has nothing to do with the show so you should research that if you want to find out because I don’t have enough info on that to be able to explain it.
Not fully proofread
I apologize if I get any Japanese etiquette or culture wrong, I literally have to research the culture for some of my fandom stories so if anything is wrong, please excuse my ignorance.
Notice:
✩Y/n is 18+. I picture her as a black female but you can see her however.
✩Some parts of the story may not be realistic or factual. After all, this is a work of fiction.
✩Although it's a dark 'romance,' I do not condone any of the behavior displayed.
✩Dark content such as: gore, violence, triggering topics, graphic scenes, vulgar language, explicit sexual content, etc.
✩There may be scenes that involve non con and/ or dubcon so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable
✩That being said, this story is for 18+ only.
Enjoy!
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Blood Thirsty
You were quiet, hand covering your own mouth as your eyelids flutter closed. You lean your back against the shelf of books, hiding in an aisle of the abandoned library as you sit with your knees to your chest. You contain your vomit as you listen to the sounds of your friend's flesh ripping apart, the blood splattering against the floors as the putrid smell of death reaches your nose. Your other hand is placed against your pounding heart as your body tenses, hair sticking up as you prevent yourself from having an anxiety attack.
Earlier, you and your friends had gone to a local nightclub just to get out and have fun. Because the night club is owned by Djinn yakuza members, it was a sacrificial night, the full moon being the reason for this massacre. A ritual that was made into an agreement between humans and Djinn. Djinn can survive off of animal prey, which is what they eat until the night it’s time to feed. You had no idea the building was owned by not only a criminal organization but Djinn creatures at that. Not until one of your friends said, “Who knew Djinn could give us such a great time?”
Apparently your other three friends didn’t know either, eyebrows furrowing when they heard the news. It was already dangerous to be out late at night since that’s when they prowl on a full moon, but to also attend a Djinn club is just asking to be somebody’s meal. You smacked her shoulder and asked, “Why did you bring us here knowing that it’s feeding night?”
“They’re hot!” She responds, “If they’re gonna be active tonight then I know I can score at least one in exchange for my blood!” The creatures are known to be attractive, adding to the hype of the tattooed beings. Unfortunately, your friend is so boy crazy that she’ll put everyone at risk just for a chance with a murderous creature.
You all escaped and ran as fast as you could when all hell broke loose, ending in this dark dusty library, choosing your spots to hide in. You knew you couldn’t stay in the same spot for long. You knew you were going to have to move before they stopped feeding. The blood curdling screams of your friends begin to quiet down as you look over to the original friend who put you all in this predicament. She sat at the aisle across from you, eyes wide as well as her own hand covering her mouth as her body trembled. You both eyed each other in terror before you motioned for the door opposite of the sound. It was a few aisles down. You both have the potential to make it as they continue to eat.
You nod at her before standing on your feet, crouching as you peeked behind your aisle, instantly regretting it as you turned back away from the gruesome scene. Holding your stomach you ease your way to the other side of the aisle in front of you, hands trembling as you hold your breath once pausing, listening for any movement towards you. When all you heard was the usual ripping and bone cracking you turned to look at your friend who's following behind on her own side. You both move again and again until you finally make it out of the door, sprinting down the hall until you make it outside.
Your original plan was to keep running until you didn’t hear your friend behind you, turning around you noticed her standing in place, staring to the side.
“F/n! F/n! Come on!” You call out to her, confused as to why she stopped.
“But he’s so pretty.” She says breathlessly, her eyes beginning to glow purple.
You follow her sight, startled when you notice the shirtless man with a large tattoo on the left side of his torso, as well as a symbol on his neck. His purple mullet flowing in the wind as he stands across from her, eyes and tattoos glowing purple. Blood stained his mouth as well as his chest, his hands dripping with the substance as he licked some of the liquid off his fingers. You turn away as you grab her face, turning her to face you.
“Wake up! Wake up now! We’re gonna be killed!” You shake her face as her mouth hangs open, slobber dripping as you shift your gaze back to the male who stood still. You know you should leave her, but you can’t. You know it’s her fault, as well as yours for even being out in the first place on a night like this. Tears fall down your eyes as you contemplate whether or not to leave her to die. The only way she can be pulled out of the trance is by the Djinn releasing her or death.
You could be a savior and offer yourself up, but fear overtook your senses. You couldn’t possibly save her, so you decide to make a run for it while you still can, releasing her face. Before you could run, claws wrap around your wrist, yanking you back as you fall on the grass, bottom making contact with the ground as another tattooed being crouches over you. You noticed the yellow glow against the tiger symbol on his neck as well as the symbol that matches with the purple eyed Djinn on the right side of his chest.
His smile was as cold as his golden gaze, eyes refrained from glowing as he stared down at your fearful face. Blood covered his torso as well as his hands. You could see that his teeth were also stained with red as his smile widened.
“Where do ya think you’re going?”
You could only stare back at his face before you looked over to your friend, your hand reaching out in reflex as you called out to her when she walked over to the male. A hand on your chin forces you to turn your attention back to the brunette with blonde strands hanging over his face.
“Hey! Pay attention to me. I asked you a question.” He eyes you with an irritated gaze, causing you to yelp when he squeezes your chin tightly, claws poking your skin.
“Playing with your food, Kazu?” Another shirtless man walks toward the two of you from inside the building, fresh blood covering his mouth as well as his whole torso while the large tattoo on the right side of his body as well as the one on his neck glows purple.
He stops next to you both, sniffing the air as he eyes you and your friend with a lazy smile.
“Are you radiating that sweet scent, darling?”
“N-no! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You say as you pull back from the man’s grip.
The purple eyed man’s fingers met his chin. “Hm. Of course you don’t. You smell it?” He faces the crouching man.
“Yeah. That’s what brought me over here. Never smelled blood like that before.” The tiger symboled man pushes himself from the ground, standing over you as their intense gazes study you like you’re a new specimen.
Your eyebrows furrow as you notice their eyes becoming dim, faces turning red as they hold dazed looks on their faces.
“Man, your smell is intoxicating.” Kazutora breathes out, chest rising as he drags a large sniff of the air.
“Maybe we should preserve this one, yeah?” The short haired man suggests.
“You think boss’ll allow it?” Kazutora questions.
“Allow what?” A pink haired man entered the scene, walking until he reached the two men standing above you. His hair covered in blood as well as his face, hands, and chest, as if he rubbed himself against the liquid while feeding. You eye the blue glow of his wrist, the symbol matching the iciness of his piercing eyes. He sniffed the air, facing you as he observed your figure. Bending over, he grabs your arm, pulling you up on your feet and smelling the limb.
His face instantly warms, eyes dazed as he continues to sniff the sweet aroma, using a hand at the back of your neck to pull you closer as he nuzzles your neck. You put your hands on his chest as you pushed yourself away, his hand preventing you from moving as you struggled in his grasp.
“What is that?” He pulls back, turning to the others as he releases your neck only to keep a hold of your arm.
Kazutora shrugged. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”
You hear the sound of flesh ripping along with a familiar scream of pain. Turning your head, you eye the gruesome sight. The man has your friend’s detached arm in his hand. A big gash is left where her arm used to be as her legs tremble, her eyes staying wide as they continue to glow purple. Blood drips from the wound as he bites into the flesh of the arm, more blood staining his mouth as he moans while satisfying his hunger.
Your hands shake as you eye the display in horror, tears streaming down your face as you watch your last friend become a beast’s meal. Instincts going haywire, you wanted to run away, but if you did, you knew you’d be easily captured by the Djinn considering their abilities. They have the upper hand against the human species. You’ve always wondered why they didn’t just take over. You could only stand there amongst the men, feeling helpless, weak, and vulnerable. It disgusted you to be so human in this predicament. You were going to die and you had no choice but to accept it.
“Awe, she’s crying. I think you’re hurting her arm, Sanzu.” Kazutora jokes, pointing at your tears. You ignored him as you turned your head away from your friend who’s shoulder just got bitten off, using both of your hands to cover your ears, the sound driving you crazy.
Sanzu releases you just in time for you to lean over and vomit. Bile burning your throat as you gag and dry heave.
“Disgusting.” Sanzu hissed as he walked towards the purple mullet. Kazutora leaned over with his hands on his knees.
“It’s amazing how you still smell sweet. There’s no way boss won’t take you home with us.” He beams.
“He does have a thing for sweet things.” Ran states with a cigar in his mouth, sparking it before shoving the lighter in his pants pocket.
A short man walks out of the building, the men immediately turning their attention to him. The atmosphere darkens almost as much as the voids you’d call his eyes. He gave you an icy glare, causing a rapid chill to run up your spine as well as sending alerts to your instincts. Your body tenses as he comes closer. You hear him sniffing, eyeing the blood on his mouth as well as on his chest, bloody claws by his sides. He stops in front of you, gazing into your soul as you shift in discomfort.
His gaze slightly softens as the familiar red hue forms on his face, panting softly as he drags more of your fumes through his nostrils. You eye the blood staining his platinum hair, the stench of flesh and blood surrounding you. His palm rests on the side of your neck for a moment before he uses a claw to nick the skin, slicing a small cut in between your neck and shoulder causing you to flinch. He leans in, warm breath grazing your neck before his tongue slithers against your wound. His sunken eyes widen as his hands grab your shoulders, pulling you in as you place your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him away before you yelp from the fangs piercing through your skin.
He gulps your blood down, moaning against you as you fall backwards. He lands on top of you, a hand sliding behind your neck while the other balances next to your head. Your hands grip his shoulders as your eyes shut tightly in pain. You hiss and whimper under him as the others, including Sanzu and Rin, watch as if they’re in their own trance. He finally pulls his teeth out of your neck before he grips the back of your neck tightly as he nuzzles against the wound. Your blood rubs along his face as he engulfs himself. He breathes your scent in deeply before pulling back.
He pants as he sits on top of you with intense eyes. You avoid eye contact by looking at your own blood covering the hand that felt the moisture from your neck. Your hand trembles as you look at the men who stood around you. He stands up and walks away from you. He flicks his head, motioning for them to grab you. When you see this, your fight or flight kicks in causing you to hop up and run. The only place you could go was the forest but if you stayed hidden there until the sun rose, they would have to let you go in order to not break the treaty.
“So she wants a chase?” Rin questions with a smirk as all the executives stand and watch you run.
“Bind her and bring her to the car when you’re done.” Mikey says before he hops into the car.
With a wide grin that shows their sharp stained teeth, the four men began to sprint after you, Ran dropping the cigar in the process.
You run as fast as you can, grunting and breathing hard as your heart pounds. Your chest tightens as the pain in your legs form fast from running at a speed you’ve never had to run. You hop off of mini hills as well as passing many trees. The only light allowing you to see in the moonlight shining through the leaves. You just had to find a hiding spot to survive the night. You wouldn’t have run into the forest if they weren’t blocking your way. You knew you couldn’t pass them.
You groan as the pain becomes almost unbearable, the tightening of your body making it harder to breathe. You knew you’d have to stop soon but your adrenaline is pumping and you refuse to let them catch you. At least not easily. You thank the heavens that you hadn’t worn heels, the platforms of your shoes smacking against the grassy terrain, attempting to not fall on loose twigs or branches. As you run, you also gaze around for any mud to prevent yourself from sliding on it.
You pant, mouth wide open as you peek behind you. Seeing nothing there you continue to run as you look for the perfect hiding place. If you were being honest with yourself, there’s a low chance of surviving without being caught. They probably know exactly where you are and just allow you to run because they like to play with their prey. You’re not dumb. You were just scared. You had to try. Before you could plant your feet into the ground, you run into a figure in front of you, slamming into them.
Your friend's blood stains your clothes, mixing in with your own as the man wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in as he leans over to smell your blood.
“I don’t think we’ve properly met.” A hand covers your mouth, blocking your scream. You’re forced to turn the other way, your back against his chest as he holds you in place. The other men stood in front of you in a curve, staring you down with glowing eyes.
“I don’t think I want to put her in a trance. I like it when they fight.”
“I want a taste. Mikey made you look so good.”
Suddenly, fingers connect with your chin, moving your head to the side as the person in front of you sniffs before leaning into the spot Mikey focused on.
A long tongue glides against your neck, the short haired man moaning softly before his teeth sinks in. You yelp in pain as another bite comes from behind, the man’s younger brother getting his own taste from the other side of your neck. The arm around your waist tightens you in place. You smack Ran’s shoulder as you try to push him away, tears rolling out of your eyes at the pain.
“You guys are hogging her all to yourself.” Kazutora states before snatching one of your arms. He bites into your forearm, eyes widening when the blood hits his taste buds, eagerly draining you. Sanzu does the same to the other arm, shutting his eyes as he drinks from you. You could only cry out in agony as they drain from you. Your body weakens as well as you becoming light headed. This goes on until you begin to see stars, your vision blurring. They pull away from you just in time before you faint, your body weak against the man behind you as you lean back.
Suddenly, your bottom met the ground as the man sitswith his back leaned against the tree. You begin to feel kisses littering all over your neck, lips hitting the blood that continues to ooze out.
“You taste so fucking good.” He whispers as he licks the liquid. Your eyelids are heavy as you sit barely awake. It feels like your black out drunk, going in and out of consciousness from whatever was spiked in it.
You look into the eyes in front of you, the person kneeling before you as two palms hold your cheeks, lips meeting yours as you’re forced to kiss the man. You couldn’t even flinch when he nipped your lip, blood drawing from you as you sat weakly.
“Let me go.” You whisper against his lips, not having enough strength to say much in a louder tone. He pulls back as he smirks.
“Go where? You can’t even walk.” Sanzu says as he crouches beside you, eyeing the wound on your neck and using his fingers to force you to turn towards him.
The red hue is still stuck on all of their faces, dazed eyes as if they’re intoxicated by your scent.
“I wonder what your thighs taste like.” The golden eyed man states before kneeling and pulling your leg open. He leans over and begins licking and sucking your thigh before sinking his teeth in. Another grunt leaves out of your mouth from the pain.
“I wonder how you taste down here.” A hand coming from behind slips into your pants as you try to wiggle out of his grip.
“Stop! Don’t touch me!” You cry out angrily. The hand dips into your panties, slowly rubbing up your slit before landing on your clit.
“I bet your cum is as sweet as your blood, huh?” The man behind you chuckles as he rolls his finger against your clit.
“I think we should find out.” His brother adds on, smiling as they nod at each other. Kazutora moves away from your thigh as he wipes his mouth, licking the blood he wiped from the back of his hand.
Rin pulls his hand out of your pants before reaching under your thighs and pulling them as far back as he could. Ran uses a claw to cut a slit from the zipper of your pants down to your ass. He tears a hole into the pants, stretching them to get a good view of your panties.
“No! Stop right now! Please!” Your head falls back on Rin’s shoulder weakly as you use your hands to cover yourself. Sanzu grabs them, securing your wrists above your head.
Ran leans over as he slices through the middle of your panties. He closes in and takes a big whiff of your vagina. Using two fingers, he gently spreads your lips apart with one hand while the thumb on his other hand pulls the hood of your clit back, revealing the bud.
“What a pretty pussy.” You twitch slightly as you feel a blow of air on your clit.
Your face warms up when you feel his lips grazing your clit, leaving a soft kiss on the bud. He does it once more and then again as he looks at you with intense eyes. You bite your lip, sucking your teeth as you turn away, only for Sanzu to use one hand to force you to look up at him. Leaning over with one hand still gripping your wrists, his lips meet yours. Rin keeps your legs pulled back, piercing his claws into your skin to draw some blood, watching as you flinch in pain, all the while Ran licks up your clit before he gives a few more kitten licks. Finally, he closes his mouth around the bud, sucking and flicking his tongue as he dives in.
Kazutora, who's still kneeling on the ground, licks up the blood dripping from your thighs. You whimper against Sanzu’s mouth.
“I think we should put the bind in between her breasts.” Rin says as you jolt from Ran’s tongue. Sanzu pulls back.
“We should put it on her face, that way everyone knows who she belongs to.”
Kazutora pulls back. “But she has such a pretty face, I don’t want to mark it.”
Ran continues to suck your clit as he lowers his head to lick some of your slick from the hole itself, his long tongue pushing inside as he uses a finger to rub your clit. He doesn’t pay much attention to the conversation, too obsessed with drinking your juices as your pussy contracts. Your head falls back with your eyes shut tight.
“Fine. Take her arms.” Kazutora grabs your arms as he stands up, Sanzu kneeling to tear the middle of your top open, revealing the lack of bra.
“Wow, you were already ready.” Kazu beams.
Sanzu sticks out a claw as his eyes glow, along with his tattoo. The beam reaches his hand as the claw meets with your skin, Rin holding you tighter as you scream in pain. The claw penetrates your skin as it drags into the shape of their Bonten symbol, blood dripping down as you struggle in his grip.
“Stop! Stop! It fucking hurts!” You cry out, your own nails digging into the skin of your palms. Kazutora forces you to turn to him with one hand, trapping your screams with an open mouthed kiss.
The contrast of pain between your chest and pleasure from your pussy shamefully causes you to near your orgasm as Ran tongue fucks you and rolls a finger around your bud. Your pussy drips with juice as your body convulses, just in time for the bind to complete as it glows a blue color that swirls into all of their signature colors before it resembles a normal tattoo. You yell out as you finally reach your limit, creaming on his face as he laps up the juice. Not long after, you finally pass out from all the overwhelming sensations.
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pctterswprld · 8 months
Text
love, love, love
pairing: harry potter x muggleborn!fem!reader
request: hello! could you do a harry j potter x fem!reader oneshot (takes place in hbp) where they are dating for a few months so reader is still slightly uncomfortable around harry and Harry’s like all touchy touchy cuddles kisses yk (in my mind he’s very clingy but not annoying) but reader isn’t used to physical contact so one day when harry wants to cuddle with her she stiffens or flinches and harry is like super worried cause he doesn’t know why she reacted like that (if you want to add a bit of drama you can make that the reader has some type of trauma like abuse or sa but only if you’re comfortable) and she explains it to him and you can make the rest up just keep it extremely fluffy<3 sorry if you don’t understand something but English isn’t my first language so idk if I made any mistakes. thank you!! ~ anon.
word count: 1,416 words
warnings: ANGSTY FLUFF, implied sa/r*pe, mentions of drugs, implied verbal/physical abuse, i don't think there's any swear words?
author's note: please tell me if i've missed any warnings. i'm SO sorry that i've replied so late!! also, i don't describe the assault graphically. it's a brief explanation. but, this is a trigger warning anyway x
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EVER SINCE YOU started dating the famous Harry Potter, you didn’t think your beloved boyfriend would be so… Touchy. You did adore his random cuddles and little forehead kisses, but it was all so strange to you—was this regular in a normal relationship?
Your last boyfriend would get mad over the tiniest little thing, and you had learned how to deal with his anger issues, but in the end, you’d be the one serving the punishment. After finally leaving that relationship, it took time to build up your confidence again. Your friends had pushed you to see who was out and about in Hogsmeade (you hadn’t told them about your ex, and you weren’t going to), and when you finally agreed, that was the day you bumped into Harry.
A few months later, the relationship was thriving. You knew Harry was content since seeing a smile on his face was rare, and nowadays, he always had a grin crossing his lips. You felt over the moon, knowing you were the source of his happiness. However, as stated before, you had started feeling uncomfortable around your boyfriend.
Perhaps I’m the problem?
You didn’t know what in Merlin’s beard was going on with you. You should feel safe with Harry. Yet, instead, all you could think about was your ex and how he treated you. The situation was bizarre—you hadn’t seen him for months. So why were your thoughts always distorted with him?
“Hello, sweetheart.” A voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you looked to the entrance of Harry’s dorm, seeing him with History books (which probably belonged to Hermione). You noticed the Advanced Potion Making textbook, with annotations from the Half-Blood Prince, on top of the book pile, and you couldn’t help but mock your boyfriend.
“I’m starting to think you love that book more than me,” you teased, seeing Harry slowly approach you with a smirk.
“I could never, my love,” he retorted, sitting on the bed beside you and taking your wrist. He was going to kiss the knuckles of your hands, but before he could do that, you immediately ripped it out of his grip, shocking Harry and yourself.
When Harry took your hand, it was so abrupt. Any sane person would be flattered at your boyfriend’s notion, yet you had to feel exposed under his touch—not in a good way. Harry had always been so careful with you—like you were some fragile shard of glass. So when you reacted like this, it didn’t only confuse Harry. It also scared him.
Harry James Potter was many things. But he was not stupid. When the Sorting Hat suggested Harry join Slytherin during his first year, the boy refused profusely. Many years later, he did not regret his choice, though it did make him realise what he could be capable of if he adhered to the Hat’s decision. To think he could’ve turned out like Tom Riddle himself was an electrifying thought, and Harry couldn’t decide if he’d like the outcome.
So, seeing his beloved girlfriend grow fearful because of his fingertips made him question everything. It made him doubt if he would hurt you—it wasn’t as if Harry’s mind and You-Know-Who’s were disconnected yet.
“[Y/N]?” Harry began, his voice quiet as he stood from his bed, “I–I’m sorry, I didn’t realise—”
“No! No, you didn’t do anything wrong.” Quickly, you corrected him, causing Harry’s body to relax a little. But, as soon as he stepped forward, you moved away from him on the bed.
“[Y/N]...” He repeated, noticing how your right hand pulled the fingers of your left hand. Your lips parted, trying to get the words out of your mouth.
Yet all you could do was stay silent. It was one of the things you were extremely good at.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Harry muttered, rooted to his position, “I just want you to know I’m not going anywhere if you want to talk.”
“I do want to talk,” you replied, looking up with hopeless eyes. “I’ve always wanted to talk to you about whatever is wrong with me—”
“Nothing is wrong with you,” he interrupted, slowly kneeling before the bed, gazing at you with his green eyes. “If you’re uncomfortable with me being physical, I’ll stop—”
“Please don’t,” you whispered, biting your bottom lip as you looked down, your eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t want you to stop. Ever.” You felt the weight of Harry sitting on the bed as you met his eyes, wanting to apologise profusely for how you were acting. Yet, he wouldn’t allow it, him being the perfect boyfriend he was.
“Then I won’t,” he replied quietly, his lips curling. You knew you had to tell him at that point. You didn’t deserve his patience—he needed to know.
“I, um, I’m going to start talking about it, so if I break down or something, I apologise in advance,” you joked, looking down at your fingers. You didn’t want to see Harry’s eyes during the story.
“During the summer before fifth year, I hung out with a lot of Muggles on my street,” you began, “And it involved a bit of weed and other things. You already know that because I snuck some into the common room.” You smiled slightly at the memory, remembering Harry’s reaction to the weed when he smoked it. “But I didn’t tell you, Ron, and Hermione, that I sort of got into a relationship.” When you glanced at him briefly, you noticed his posture stiffen at the mention of another relationship. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything. “I used the Muggle phonebox outside of Hogsmeade to call him on weekends… That’s where I snuck off. And it was going great.”
Silence. The room was painfully silent.
“What did he do, [Y/N]?” Harry asked, his voice strangely calm.
“He was a drug dealer—I already knew that,” you scoffed, clearing your throat. “I was always against that sort of thing. At that point, he was already treating me unfairly in various ways. And, um, in August, we got into an argument…”
More silence.
“He had enough of me. H-he held me down and practically shut me up. That’s the only way I want to describe it,” you shuddered, turning away as you blinked back tears. “I told him to stop and—” A little sob escaped you as you covered your mouth, closing your eyes as tears streamed down your face. Silently, you cried as Harry listened.
Harry looked at your side profile, stricken as sadness filled his eyes. He didn’t know what to say at first. All Harry wanted to do was to hold you and never let you go. He needed to reassure you and affirm that he would never in a million years do such a thing. But how could you believe him after you had experienced that?
Deep down, you knew Harry wouldn’t do that to you—ever. Despite how badly his uncle and aunt treated him during Harry’s childhood, it made him more potent and loving. It shaped him into the man he was today. That was the quality you loved most about him.
He knew your boundaries. He knew you weren’t touchy from the beginning and respected that. You would allow Harry to cuddle you, to kiss your knuckles, and to hold your hands. You allowed little makeout sessions (Merlin knows how much you needed him).
Harry respected everything. He respected you. He loved you.
Harry moved closer to you on the bed, his fingers reaching to touch you, but he stopped immediately. He parted his lips, thinking of the right words to say.
“[Y/N],” he began, his voice slightly breaking. His throat became raw with emotion as he blinked rapidly, letting out a breath. “Can I hold you?”
You didn’t answer for a moment. You wiped away your tears, looking up. You saw the guilt in Harry’s eyes—you saw everything. He was begging you silently to let him be there for him.
So you nodded.
And instantly, you melted into his arms, your head against his chest as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you close. More tears fell as you hid your face, but you felt warmer inside with Harry’s touch. He made you feel safe and protected, even without saying anything. He loved you so much.
You didn’t say it as much, but you loved him too.
“I love you,” you whispered, “I really do.”
“I love you too,” he replied, kissing your head softly as you closed your eyes. “Always.”
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requested anonymously. like and reblog!
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goo-berz · 4 months
Text
Talking about Vivziepops' weird art of minors
I've never been the biggest fan of Vivziepop, I've always knew about their weird behavior (since like 2018 ~ 2019) before they were as popular as they are now.
She has done a lot of weird stuff but the thing I mainly wanna focus on in this post is their character Addison. Addison is a 17 year old gay effeminate fox humanoid from Zoophobia, he's in a relationship with a 19 year old Teacher's assistant named Gustav. Many people get confused by this but Addison has been CONFIRMED to be 17 years old by Vivziepop. Someone had changed Addison's Fandom Wiki page back in 2019 to say they're 18, when this is not true, Vivzie has confirmed they're 17. I did go back and change the age to 17 on the Wiki with the correct age in hopes that people stop believing incorrect information.
Vivzie confirming their age: https://twitter.com/vivziepop/status/1128064633166712832
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The tags in this post brings up the fact that Addison is nearly 18 - not 18 yet - They're still 17.
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Edit: Oh yeah, I want to add on context to this tag: "I should mention the characters canon ages are higher then when I first made them because as I wrote the story any big age gaps were uncomfy"
I've heard multiple older fans of Vivziepop say that Addison was originally meant to be 14-15 years old, and I've heard that Gustav was originally meant to be in his 30s.
Addison was created 2010, She began shipping Gustav with Addison in 2011, and Zoophobia began in 2012. So the fact she shipped a 14-15 year old character with a 30 year old one to begin with, and encouraged her friend to draw intense NSFW art of them together is so.. weird.
Anyways, Vivzie also hints at Addison being a minor, using wording indicating how young they are in age in their Blogpost introducing the character
"I finally created a few concepts, but the one I have been toying with the most is a young character much like Gale. An albino boy, with an identical albino sister"
If you need more proof, Addison is also preyed on by Mirage, a character that SPECIFICALLY goes after minors... that's basically her main personality trait, that she's a p3d0. She goes after Addison because he's a young submissive boy and easy to manipulate.
Anyways, back on topic. I personally I don't see anything wrong with the age gap of 17 & 19, however I do think it's weird to have this relationship between Addison and Gustav.. he's not exactly a teacher, but he still holds power over Addison due to the fact he's the voluntary teacher's assistant. Back when Zoophobia was popular there were people who found this dynamic weird & creepy considering the fact that Addison is basically a student under Gustav. Also, I just wanna bring this up because I find this weird, Gustav was originally under the impression that Addison was a year one student and much younger than he actually is, yet he still tried to flirt with him.. erm..? Yeah..
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Anyways, that isn't the main point. The point is that Vivzie DREW NSFW OF HER 17 YEAR OLD CHARACTER AND HIS 19 YEAR OLD TEACHER... erm.. holy cracker balls? Literally how can anyone excuse these?
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Vivzie also drew Gore of Addison too, but I won't post it here cus it's very graphic and weird and idk why she drew it!!
And .. possibly the worst drawing of them all.. Holy titties what is this... If you're wondering, the stuff under the censors is ACTUAL NSFW. It's not suggestive, or implied s3x, It's their ACTUAL WEE WEEs.
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These accounts are poorly archived, so it's hard to find the original post and what it originally said. However after some digging I was able to find out the original text said
“ dollcreep: “ i can only see ‘dark-Günter’ exposing him and addi to a public area like so…so. yeah. Günter says; merry Christmas. god this question is super old. vivz reminded me about it"
So, I'm assuming that Dollcreep drew this, not Vivzie. However I was also able to find out from the limited resources there is that Vivzie reposted this to her accounts Vivzie-zp (unarchived) and ZPanswers, which are also now deleted, but if you view the accounts tumblr archives over the Wayback machine you can see that she did indeed repost this. http://web.archive.org/web/20120801182958/http://zpanswers.tumblr.com/archive
If you don't know, Dollcreep and Vivzie used to be best friends, however aren't anymore. Dollcreep originally designed Gustav, originally named Gunter, and Vivzie bought the design from them. Vivzie designed Addison back around 2010, and taking into account the old caption, this means that Vivzie.. allowed Dollcreep to draw NSFW art of their underaged character ;-; oh my gawd!!! Whatthe heck guys... like I said at this time Addison was still 14 - 15 and Gustav (Gunter) was in his 30s.
Also I want to mention that this drawing was from 2011, so that means Vivzie had this pedophilic ship with Dollcreeps OC for years, & after she bought the rights to the character she decided to.. keep the pedophilic ship and write it into Zoophobia by making him Addisons teacher. That's crazy..?
Anyways, because I brought up Mirage. Mirage is written pretty bad. She was a character meant to be in.. or scrapped from Zoophobia, she was meant to be a villain who preyed on the kids, mainly Addison. Her main trait is that she likes kids
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Vivzie's made a bunch of drawings of Mirage preying on kids which I think is pretty weird, especially considering how poorly some of them represent it and make it seem like a joke instead.
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and yeah, we all know about this infamous drawing she made of Mirage preying on Kestrel, a 14 year old. Pretty weird
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Also when I looked at the web archive of Vivzie's ZPanswers blog (a Zoophobia ask blog) she accepted many weird asks about Kestrel, 14, and Addison, 17, like an ask asking if Kestrel had ever been fucked by a horse & how Kestrel, Addison & others would act when they were drunk. Which is also pretty weird to me I won't lie
Anyways that's all for now. Sorry if this is all over the place its 4am and I just wanted to get my thoughts out that vivziepop is kinda a weirdo
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stinkypeanutbutter · 2 months
Text
silly Aiden headcanons because I have no impulse
i probably already done these before in other headcanon posts I made but ermm I’ll do it again 😹
small TW for scars at the end 🗣🗣
AIDEN :
Aiden has the most unhinged playlist ever like oh my giggly goodness we got metal we got rock we got classic we got indie we got pop we got vocaloid Idfk whatever you can think of ( same 😹 )
totally had an immense phase of just everything . Creepy pasta , animation , FNAF , idk any other phases from 2016 help
Probably dated like once or twice , but they weren’t serious at ALL and mostly online . He just said yes because he wanted to be nice since he never really had friends ofc , so why hurt someone you barley know if it means getting a friend ? ( I’m gonna explode 😭 )
I’m not sure when this was actually invented , but he’d probably try and convince everyone to make battery acid candy drinks . ( they all say no 😔 )
Sorta sad headcanon they if no matter how hard to tries to solve a difficult puzzle , and he fails , he just starts silently bawling his eyes out . Cause you know he’s really good at them right ? He can solve them pretty quickly ? So if he’s like absolutely pressured by a bunch of people watching expecting him to win ( or like his friends cause yk they believe in him !!!! ) and he can’t solve the puzzle he’ll be like “ why can’t I solve this why is this hard why am I failing “ or something and then start crying ig ( Yeouchers angst 😿 )
Bro is the heaviest napper ever you can stack things on him for HOURS but the moment he actually sleeps most things can wake him ( if he’s not comfortable at least . He’ll sleep pretty well at sleepovers )
I can’t figure out an art style for him but I updated it so ignore that last drawing it’s grody anyway he sometimes draws people but prefers just random splotches of color . He has extremely stylized art but yk , it’s just ‘ weird ’ according to some people since it’s really . . graphic . Not in a BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD way but very mixed ( if you get what I mean )
Hugs everything when he sleeps you can’t tell me otherwise like you seen his old bed ?? He had NOTHIN so absolutely is he gonna cuddle everything near him
Hates competing . ( idk if he did it before but we’ll see ) like he doesn’t like doing puzzle competitions anymore that much , he just got bored of it and was really kinda forced to do it when he was younger . BUT if it’s in a game against his friends , he’ll probably do it just to help them out cause they always get stuck if Logan can’t figure it out either .
Does that thing with music where If it absolutely hits he just starts spazzing out and dances to it
that one thing where he walks around in a circle talking to himself if he’s really deep in thought ( he could go on for hours so someone has to pull him out to drink water at least )
TONS of posters in his room
Him and Taylor binge shows together , often ask the others to join when they aren’t busy . They totally watch anime ( Tyler calls it childish then gets really invested in uhhhh let’s say full metal alchemist and sport animes like haikyuu or something I can’t think of any he’d like . But I’m gonna make them all watch Ghost stories because it’s funny )
Aidlyn cuddling is mostly done at Aidens house cause his parents rarely go up to check on him ( 😅💥 ) and also he had a ton of blankets for Ashlyn to wrap herself in . He got her a heavy weighted blanket for her birthday one time so when that’s not around she just uses Aiden as a blanket if she’s feeling affectionate ( he’s warm in the winter time and pretty light believe it or not )
Has a medium spice tolerance , eats more then what he can handle like a stinky loser
doesn’t like anyone pointing out his growing hair roots so just don’t talk about it much 😅😅
steals chopsticks from restaurants cause who needs to buy any ??? They’re free if you don’t get caught / hj
sometimes just locks himself up in his room and lays in his bed thinking about life
LOVES drawing his friends ( especially Ash ) in his free time because he rarely draws in front of people , and will make an airplane out of it to throw it over to them . But he has that mentality where “ Everyrhing I make kinda sucks “ so expect to find doodles in the trash or hidden in his room
IPad kid , can’t tel me otherwise .
Loves hover boarding but he kinda sucks at it so he just 🧍🕺☠️ ( falls )
Will ram into everyone in bumper cars , almost sent someone flying ( Lilly , he bought her candy as a sorry )
rarely catches cavities because he actually has really strong teeth and willingly bites down on hard candies ( I do the same thing because I’m impatient 😹 )
Does all his school work at home cause school has too many distractions ( real )
Buys like body foundation to smear onto his legs and arms . He doesn’t want anyone to point out them out , and if they do he just tells them their from skateboarding . It can come off after a few days if he doesn’t reapply , but it’s fine since he does it again in between and would have to reapply anyway . Idk how it works 😿
Anyway who shall I do next ????? Put your answers in the comment section below subscribe like and support my Patreon see you in the next video 😹😹😹☝️☝️💥💥
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gretavanlace · 1 year
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Purple Haze
Josh Kiszka x reader
18+ only! Minors do not interact!
Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, use of marijuana, language, dirty talk, praise, degradation, sliiiiight dom/sub if you squint and turn your head just right. Idk, you guys know me by now
This goes out to my anon who asked for smoked up, lazy, dirty sex with josh, about a million years ago. I’ve lost your ask, but I hope you know I loved and appreciated your request, and I apologize for the long, long wait.
“Stop staring at me.” you run the tip of your tongue along the blunt you’ve just completed, purposely avoiding Josh’s gaze.
He sits at the opposite end of the couch, eyes boring a heated hole through you. “Can’t help it.” Out of the corner of your eye, you watch him curl his legs, twisting them beneath him, rendering himself even tinier than usual. “You look sexy when you roll.”
You hand him the blunt and a lighter - the green hit is his favorite. “You only think that because you can’t roll for shit.”
“Never needed to, Jake was always around to do it for me, and now I have a pretty girl to do my bidding.” He sounds pleased with himself, so naturally, you feel like knocking him down a peg.
“And you’re just okay with being a pillow princess? Happy to sit back while I do all the work?”
“Delighted.” he winks around a long, lazy hit. “This one’s a little too tight, though. You losing your touch?”
The perverted old man quip comes to you so quickly you consider getting up to check the mail for your honorary penis. “Thought you liked tight, Josh?”
“Oh my god,” he groans, passing to you after hitting it twice like a mannerless savage. “That was bad, babe. Like, Samuel level bad. We gotta work on your material.”
You smoke and pass back and forth in comfortable silence for a while until, as usual, he feels the need to fill it. “Wanna walk down to the store for weird snacks? I’ll hold your hand and pretend I like you.”
This is a favorite little game of his. Find a store and search out the strangest snacks you can find. The first time you’d played with him, he’d given you the most disappointed look you’ve ever seen grace his beautiful features when, with a smirk, you’d presented him with a cylinder of Pumpkin Pie Spice Pringles. “I said weird, love,” he’d frowned, tucking them onto a random shelf behind you. “Not disgusting.”
“No,” you sigh, crawling across the couch cushions until you can curl up like a cat with your head in his lap. “I don’t feel like going anywhere.”
“Okay,” he runs his thumb over your mouth. “Bad lip reading?”
Another of his favorites…throw on an old movie or cheesy sitcom, mute the volume, and make up your own dialogue. He is the reigning champion…mainly because his thoughts are completely unhinged at all times anyway.
You shake your head in his lap, just to feel the soft weight of his cock nudge against your temple. “You always win.”
“Sore loser, are we?” He teases softly, lifting his hips closer to you subtly.
“I’m high.” Your voice is slow and lazy…a fuzzy breath undulating along just like the haze of smoke that plays above your heads.
“Wasn’t that kind of the point?” His voice sounds just as faraway. Bluesy and thick.
Turning your face inward, you shamelessly nuzzle against his dick again through his sweats. Dragging your tongue along the length of it before bestowing a gentle bite into the girth of it. He sucks in a hiss of an inhale through those perfect teeth of his and then releases it shakily. “Watch it, baby.”
“I think you liked it.” You challenge, just before lightly biting once more. He’s harder now, and the moan you draw from his chest makes your thighs both press together and ache to spread apart.
“You want that?” His tone is guiding you down a familiar path…he’s switched on now, and you are positively alight with excitement.
“Yes.” You nod up at him with your sweetest fuck me eyes.
“Where? You want this pretty mouth all nice and full?” His thumb tugs at your bottom lip, “Or would you like to be nice and full somewhere else?
“I wanna sit on your lap.” the words drift out of you with a wandering curl of a smoky exhale as you pass the blunt back to him.
He takes it, fills his lungs and then rasps around the hit he’s still holding in. “On my lap or on my cock?”
Leaning forward, he brings his mouth to yours and gently breathes the smoke into your mouth. You accept the shared hit with lust and longing pulsing through your body hard and fast.
“So romantic, Joshua.” You tease, unable to summon much of a bullying tone…you almost sound serious, and maybe you are. No one else gets to sit on his cock, who’s to say what romance is? Shouldn’t it be in the eye of the beholder? Like beauty? Surely the universe holds millions of unique instances of love that…
Oh no, when you start thinking like Josh, you know you’re cashed. To that end, when he moves to pass to you, you shake your head and fumble up to straddle him while he leans over the arm of the couch to stub it out in a tiny clay ashtray he crafted in art class his freshman year of high school.
“Told the teacher it was a jewelry dish for my sister’s birthday so it wouldn’t be confiscated.” He likes to remind you proudly. As if his teacher actually bought his bullshit.
“Hi, cookie.” He smiles, red eyes heavy and slow as they drink you in.
“Cookie?” You laugh, rocking slowly down against him…the warmth of his cock leading you toward drowsiness, like slipping into a bath filled with fragrant, iridescent, bubbles.
“Yeah, you look good. Tempting. Plus, you taste very sweet.” He shrugs, “Also, I’m high as hell and thinking about food. We should’ve done the grocery store thing.”
“Okay,” your hips are rolling with rhythm now, his fingers gripping deliciously into your sides. “Well, it makes me feel like I’m a cocker spaniel, so quit it.”
A full-chested laugh rolls out of him as his head falls to rest against the back of the couch. “You’re cute, you know that?”
“Cute?” Your palms slide up his shirt, thumbs circling over his nipples as he hums and gasps his appreciation.
“So cute,” he pulls you down onto his lap harder, grinding up into you until the tip of his still hidden cock is sweeping over your clit. “And I’m high and hungry. What should I call you? Salt and vinegar chips? My crunchy taco supreme? Questionable leftovers? Chicken flavored ramen?”
How are you laughing this hard while simultaneously soaking through your panties?
“Mmm,” you moan, as though swooning. “Questionable leftovers, please. Fuckin’ hot.”
He quiets your giggles by wrapping one palm around your throat, the other clasping the nape of your neck, owning you as he pulls you in, nose to nose.
“But you’re my favorite thing to eat, aren’t you? So what if I just called you my pretty little cunt, like that’s all you are to me?”
The air in your lungs tumbles free on a stuttering, hitching, embarrassing, sound of lust, and the look in his eyes tells you it hasn’t gone unnoticed. “Oh…you liked that, didn’t you?”
“Josh, please…” you whimper, yanking at the waistline of his sweats.
“Needy girl.” He teases, breathing into your mouth, “On your feet.”
“No.” You protest with the smallest of pouts. “Right here.”
“Just need to get these off you, love.” He cradles your cheek and snaps at your pj bottoms. “Up.”
You feel the gentle heat of a blush rising to your cheeks. You really are gone. Cross-faded on the THC floating through your system, and him. Mostly him. “Love?” You laugh quietly as you stumble up. “What happened to Questionable Leftovers?”
His gaze lifts to yours, dark and full of lust, yet still swimming in the bliss of the blunt. “Don’t you mean, ‘What happened to my pretty little cunt’? Because, I think you liked that one better.”
Without another word, eyes locked on yours, he rids you of your pj’s and panties, himself of his sweats and then manhandles you back down against him, while you clutch your bottom lip between your teeth.
Rather than bother with your tank top, he simply yanks the neck of it down, stretching it out until your tits pop free. He nestles his face between them and murmurs against your skin; sweet nothings and filthy promises as he licks and sucks at your nipples until you’re shivering and panting, tugging at his curls, hungry for more.
“Josh, please…” the words tremble out shakily and he nibbles on the tip of your breast in response.
“Begging already?” He smiles fondly, the fine hairs of his mustache bringing chills with the movement. “Such a sweet girl. Who’s my sweet girl, hmm? Tell me.”
“Me. I’m your sweet girl.” you arch your back, sending your nipple further into his mouth, but he pulls away.
He reaches down and drags his thumb over the glistening shine you’ve glazed his cock with, then brings it to your lips. He watches on while you lick it away, savoring yourself on your tongue. “Yeah, taste…such a sweet girl, aren’t you?”
You nod and fight to keep your eyes from rolling back in your head.
“You’re dripping all over me.” He points out with that luscious rasp quieting his tone. His fingers guide your hips a bit faster. “Making such a mess of my cock with your slutty, wet, pussy…”
“Fuck,” the curse escapes you unexpectedly, interrupting him.
“Yeah?” He teases. “See? You know what you like, don’t you, baby? You’re a sweet girl for me until I start whispering filthy things.”
“Then what am I?” You yank and tug on his shirt with a lazy fever, both enjoying and hating the game all at once.
His palm cracks against the outside of your thigh, fingers digging into the soft, thick of it. “Then you're my pretty, pretty cock drunk whore. Look at you, begging for it with your whole body, all slow and gentle because you’re in the clouds and sleepy stoned. I love it.”
“Stop teasing,” you plead, sugary as cotton candy. “I want it.”
“And you’ll have it. You know I can’t deny you for long, love, but right now this just feels too fucking good.” He angles his hips to nestle the silky tip of his cock against your clit. “Beautiful cunt all slick and hot against me. Keep going. Just a little longer.”
“No.” You shock him statue-still when, in a flash of movement that should be too swift for your inebriated state - you lift your hips, wrap your fingers around the thick base of him, and slip him inside.
His arms are wrapped around you in a blazingly fast blink of an eye. “Sit still.” He orders, voice firm and unwavering…it sends a spark of electricity popping up your spine. “Naughty girl too high to know what’s good for her?”
Your eyebrow hooks defiantly, “Maybe.”
Without bothering to reply, he licks his thumb absently and drops it down to your clit. “Oh,” he grins. “This darling little clit is just hard as a rock. No wonder you’re being so pushy…you must want it bad.”
“You think my clit is darling?” You're trying to taunt him, challenging for the upper hand.
“Of course I do.” He begins circling over it with tight, silken, curls of his thumb. “So darling. So precious and pink, soft and delicate…and the things I can do to you just by babying her around a bit.” He hums, as if remembering. “Fucking perfect. Fucking darling.”
“Standing by your statement,” You gasp, trying your hardest to fuck yourself on his cock while he holds you still and sure. “Good man.”
You grow louder, nearing your end, tip-toeing along that familiar razor-sharp edge, silently praying that the way you can feel yourself clenching around his cock will coerce him into finally fucking it up into you.
And yet, he doesn’t…and it forces your hand.
“Fuck me,” you finally give in and beg. “Please baby, just fuck me.”
“Earn it.” He whispers, watching your face intently as his hand plays you like a song. “Be a good girl and fucking earn it.”
“I don’t want to earn it.” You whine, catering to his need to baby you. “I want you to just give it to me. Spoil me.”
“You’re a worthy opponent, love…” he croons softly, sounding proud. “I almost gave in. Almost. Now, come on, little girl, give it up. I can feel you right there, you’re squeezed so tight around me.”
Your head falls against his shoulder, thrashing back and forth but he’s having none of it. “Huh-uh, baby. Want you to watch me make you cum.”
Wrenching yourself back up, you train your blurry gaze on his face, and, with a whispered, “C’mon, sweetheart, right on my cock with that gorgeous little cunt…” he shoves you into the abyss.
Darkness seeps into the peripherals of your vision as you try to stay focused on his ethereal face, and the pained expression painted across it. In the end, it becomes too much, and your head lolls back with a blissful cry.
Rather than scold you for not honoring his request to keep your eyes on him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and groans out praises and obscenities. Most of which you can’t understand through the lavender fog he has unleashed in your brain.
When, at last, the smoke clears, you find his eyes. It's as though he’s been waiting a thousand years for you for as much desperation as you find in his stare.
“Ride me,” he orders, sounding as shaky and needy as you must have just a few short moments ago. “Right now…fucking ride me, please baby, oh my god - fuck, please.”
You could tease him. You could metaphorically push him around a bit about how the tables have turned. But in reality, the tables haven’t turned at all - you want him just as badly. You want to ride him until nothing else exists in the world.
When you begin rolling your hips, sending his cock slipping in and out of your warmth with a divine, slick, drag, he doubles over away from the back of the couch and into your arms. “That’s it, sweetheart…fuck me.”
“Yeah?” You hum, raking your fingernails softly over his scalp just to feel him shudder with chills.
“Yeah. Doing so fucking good for me, baby…gonna make me cum.”
Pushing him back, you lean away, trying to find that elusive angle that will send him rutting against that perfect spot inside you, but instead, you stumble upon something that’s perfect for him.
“Right there…” he gasps, clawing his dull nails into your hips. “Oh fuck, fuck…right there. Don’t stop…right there…there there there…”
“Cum for me,” you coax, fucking him harder now as he loses it completely beneath you. Writhing and thrashing and clutching at you desperately. “Come on, baby…right inside. I want it so bad.”
With a loud, feral growl that could shake the rafters, he spills into you. His body twisting and bucking into yours, violently grasping for purchase to keep him grounded.
It takes an astonishingly long time for him to calm down, but you just pet him patiently, babying him softly, loving on him and whispering sweet things.
Normally, he would complain that you’ve only gotten off once, no matter how much you insisted you were fine. He’s almost never satisfied with once. Twice is barely sufficient in his book, but he’s too far gone. He came too hard to care, and you feel positively smug about it.
When, after a leisurely bask in the afterglow, you move to climb off his lap, he whines in protest. “Stay.”
“You know, you get very subby after you get off.” You poke gentle fun and lift away from him despite his complaints.
“I do not!” He huffs. His hand darts out to swat your ass, but he misses by a mile and slumps back against the couch rather than worrying about trying again.
“Yes, you do.” You correct, flashing him a little smile. “Now you just wait here while I run to the bathroom. I’ll be back to clean you up, and then I’m going to make sandwiches.”
“Oh great, mysterious universe,” he extends a fluid, waving hand toward the ceiling as you slip out of the room. “Full of wonder and truth, secrets and curiosities…what have I done to deserve this woman? Giver of orgasms, Bringer of sandwiches...I am unworthy.”
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