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reiderwriter · 9 months

Note

Hii! Could you write a Spencer x fem reader, she's extremely confident & forward and Spencer gets all flustered, shy and overwhelmed at how forward she is with flirting with him and complimenting him (even tho he loves it), thank you:-)

A/N: This was such a cute request, thanks for sending it in! I love shy and oblivious Spencer he's so silly and cute ㅠㅠ

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: pure fluff

Word Count: 2k

Summary: Spencer Reid is a genius. But if he hasn't noticed you've been flirting with his for a week straight, he must be an idiot. Non-BAU!Reader.

Warnings: Alcohol intake. Kissing. Slightly suggestive ending.

Here's my masterlist, requests are open! 🎉

Working with the FBI as a consultant on a case was practically a dream come true for you, but what was even more dreamy was the man you got to work with whilst consulting. You’d arrived bright and early, really eager to help with the case you’d been called in for. On the phone, Unit Chief Aaron Hotchner had asked for your help decoding some documents that the team thought had something to do with the Literature you were teaching as part of your course at a local university.

In all honesty, you were a massive fan of detective novels, an early love for Agatha Christie and the Golden Age of mystery making you entertain an idea in law enforcement before you decided that really wasn’t for you, so you were eager to help out in anyway you could fathom.

“One of our Special Agents, Doctor Reid, has decoded most of it, but he says there are some key areas he may be missing and he wants to pick your brains, to see if you can help him come up with something,” he said, guiding you into a small sideroom.

Having previously heard that Doctor Spencer Reid had achieved no less than three PhDs and three additional Bachelor's Degrees in varying subjects, you weren’t quite sure to expect when walking into the room. You certainly weren’t expecting one of the prettiest men you’d ever seen in your life to be sat reading through a pretty thick tome at an incredible speed.

“Reid, this is Professor Y/L/N, she’s here to help you decode the cypher. Professor, this is Doctor Spencer Reid.” Hotchner introduced you, but as soon as you picked your jaw up off the floor, you instantly stepped forward.

“Please, call me Y/N. It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you… Spencer was it?” You smile and stick out your hand. You notice the flush on the man's face and your grin grows even wider as he hesitates to take your hand.

“I’m sorry, I don’t really shake hands, the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering. It's actually safer to kiss.” He stutters through the words, almost struggling to get them out, but you don’t falter for a second.

“Kiss me then,” you say smirking up at him and you realise that the other agent had since left the room, leaving you alone with the object of your affections. Ignoring your response, but face tinged such a bright shade of red that you knew he was effected by it, he dives into the facts of the case.

“We think that he’s using some kind of cypher based on some books you’ve been researching recently at the University, which means we think he could possibly be a student of yours. I read through your PhD thesis this morning, and there are certain commonalities that suggest you could be the key to solving some of our unknowns.”

“You read my thesis? What did you think of it?” you ask, moving to sit in the chair directly next to him, scooting it a little bit closer than was polite.

“I don’t have a degree in Literature of the Renaissance Period, so I’m not sure how much value my opinion really holds in this scenario,” he looks at you and you’re pleasantly surprised at how genuine he’s being.

“Well, you’ve seen mine, can I see yours?” you allow the cogs in his brain to keep turning for a few seconds then continue. “I’m sure with three PhDs to your name, you’ve probably got a few research papers floating about, right?”

“Oh….” he blushes again, turning his eyes away from you and doing his best not to make eye contact. “I’m sure I could send them to you after we’ve completed this case if you think they would allow you a deeper insight into any of my fields of study.” He coughs a little to hide the way his voice pitched up as he spoke and kept his eyes trained on the book in his hands.

This consulting role was going to be the most fun you’d had in weeks.

–X–

A week later, you found yourself sat at a bar, surrounded by the members of the BAU team celebrating another case closed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to fully partake in their merryments exactly. You’d assumed, after an entire week of flirting very openly with Reid, that when he’d asked you to the bar that evening to celebrate wrapping up the case, he’d meant just the two of you. Alas, you had discovered over the week that not only was he the most adorable man you’d ever met, he was also the most oblivious. Impressive for a man with an IQ of 187.

You couldn’t complain too much. Your help on the case had meant the rescue of two young girls, two of your students in undergrad courses nonetheless, so you’d at least made a difference. You had nothing against the rest of the team either, having become fast friends with Garcia, and enjoying your twenty minutes of small ltalk in the morning at the coffee station with Prentiss, Morgan and JJ as well. Hell, you even loved Rossi, who gave off the fun Uncle vibe that you found rounded out the team well. But you couldn’t curb your disappointment still, so you distanced yourself from the table a bit and removed yourself to the bar to grab yourself a new drink. You stayed there for a few minutes to nurse it.

“Hello, beautiful,” the man sat at the barstool next to you leered down at you, “you looking for some company in the bottom of that glass tonight?” He winked at you and your skin crawled. It wasn’t just his creepy smile, and the disgusting way he dragged his eyes over your body, it was that he was also very likely older than your own father. Some people were into that, but you certainly weren’t

“Not today, thanks,” you said, hoping that would be enough to get him to leave you in peace, but of course it wasn’t.

“Hot piece of ass like you, you need a real man to take care of you.” He pushed his hand out and for a split second you were convinced he was going to make an attempt to smack your ass. Before he was able to make contact, and, perhaps more importantly, before you could be arrested for aggravated assault, a hand was wrapping around your hip and pulling you away from the man, your back colliding with a firm chest behind you.

“Y/N, Special Agent Hotchner is about to leave and he wanted to thank you for coming to consult for us. The FBI is always really grateful for conscientious citizens like you willing to help us keep the streets safe.” Spencer turned you around and said, emphasising words to make it clear what his job was, speaking loudly enough that you knew the words were only for the creep behind you who’d thought to lay a hand on you.

“Thanks, Spencer,” you said as the man downed the rest of his drink and made to leave the bar, obviously embarrassed and threatened by Spencer’s arrival. He made to loosen his grip on you as the man left, but you through your arms around his neck, not letting him leave. If this was your last opportunity to make him realise what you wanted, you absolutely weren’t going to let it get away from you.

“I wanted to thank you for this week as well, Spencer. Hotch said it was you that recommended me for the consulting role.” He blushed and stood there a little awkwardly, but made no move to leave, his hands unmoving from your hips. It reminded you of your middle school prom, in all honesty.

“Oh that’s no big deal. It worked out pretty well in the end, though, right, with your students and everything.” You nodded and thanked him again, but you were still pretty reluctant to see him walk away, back to the table filled with his closest friends and colleagues.

“So, are you looking forward to going back home? I’m sure your boyfriend or husband or whatever will be really glad to see you again.” He mumbled and you felt your heart stop for a second.

“Spencer, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a husband, or any kind of partner for that matter. I’m sorry if I made you think I do,” you saw his eyes widen in panic a little, and you relaxed a bit yourself as he started to talk again.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I just assumed that someone as pretty as you couldn’t be single.” He stuttered every single word out, and you didn’t quite register his words for a second.

“You think I’m pretty?” you ask looking up at him and he gapes down at you, realising this conversation is just him shooting himself in the foot over and over again.

“Shit… what I mean is…Y/N you have to know you’re gorgeous, right?” It was your turn to blush then, feeling the sincerity in his words.

“You know, I thought you were asking me out on a date tonight.” You tell him, watching his entire face crumple again in distress.

“But I told you we were going out to celebrate finishing the case!” He spoke in his defence.

“Spencer, what were your exact words?”

“Y/N, do you want to grab a drink tonight? It would be nice to celebrate now that the case is closed and- oh. OH.” The realisation dawned on his face, and you enjoyed the little look of devastation that played out there as his blush deepened.

“It’s fine, Spencer, really. If you’re not interested in me, you’re not interested, I get it.” You sighed, finally moving to let him go, resigned to your fate now.

“Wait, Y/N, that’s not what I meant!” He grabbed you by the hand gently, not quite as close as you were the moment before but still standing notably close. You realised you probably had an audience for this.

“I didn’t realise that you’d want to go on a date with me, you’re so beautiful and smart, I just never thought you’d be interested.” Your brain almost exploded with that, and you had to make a conscious effort to not have your jaw drop to the floor, but apparently the man wasn’t finished. “I just assumed you had a flirty personality, and like, really look at you and then look at me-” you absolutely had to cut him off before he said anything else, so you did.

Crashing your lips up into his was the most sensible thing you’d done since stepping into the bar that evening. He was statuesque at first, unmoving while your lips pressed against him, but he warmed up to it and began kissing you back with equal fervor. You moved the hands that were holding yours to your waist, then moved your own hands up to tangle in his hair, playing with a few curls at the base of his neck.

After a few minutes, you finally pulled away to see a dumbstruck expression on his face.

“Oh. Oh, I see now,” was all he could get out, unable to form more words as he panted into the space between you,

“Yeah? That’s good. I’ve been flirting with you all week, so it’s nice of you to finally notice.” You giggle up at him slowly, and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“What should….what should I do now?” He asked, obviously a little bit unsure of himself, and happy to let you take the lead.

“Well, you can either take me back to your place now, or you could start with asking me out on that date?” He looked like he was seriously weighing up his options for a minute, before he looked you in the eye again.

“Can I do both?”

--X--

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euphoricfilter · 1 year

Note

im in LOVE w your yandere ddlg fics… can i request one w namjoon? 🫣🫣 i feel like he fits the ddlg concept so well ugh

𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦:

pairing: yandere! namjoon x f. reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship au ||

summary: if namjoon’s life were a book, he thinks the day his eyes set on you, it had been the start of a fairytale. where he is the prince, and you, his princess.

word count: 5.5k

tags/ warnings: disgusting amounts of fluff, buff bf namjoon, reader is definitely an ipad baby, she’s also very very spoiled, and very very shy, ddlg themes, non-sexual dom joon, descriptions of murder, a few references to literature, smut in the forms of: unprotected sex (this is fiction, don’t be stupid), dom! namjoon, sub! reader, he’s girthy, size kink, cockwarming, belly bulge, dick riding, female masturbation, fingering, oral (f. receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of praise, and she’s a bit of a pillow princess, aftercare

notes: i agree!! he fits this concept so well!! and thank you for reading my other works babes! and here i present my last post of 2022! if there are mistakes, no there aren’t you didn’t see anything

request rules can be found here || my masterlist

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

You were Namjoon’s fairytale dream. A distressed princess locked in the wicked witch’s tower— that was this corrupt world that the two of you lived in.

Him, your knight in shining armour, sweeping you off your feet and dressing you in pretty dresses and jewels just like a true princess.

Truthfully Namjoon liked the classics better, words articulated like poetry and feelings forever carved into paper with ink. Little pieces of each author weaved into each book they’d ever written, secrets between pages and fantasies hidden behind flowery words. Hours upon hours of knowledge stacked up in Namjoon’s mind, useless little things that no one had ever cared to ask him about.

Perhaps romance novels were his guilty pleasure. That sickly feeling you get, reading about two people so in love that you have to sit back and realise that your own life is nothing more than a slow burn. Where truly, you’re the side character that is left and forgotten, watching the people around you— the main cast of the story, fall in love and find their god-awful happiness that you can only dream of.

You see, Namjoon had learnt how patience was a virtue. He’d waited year and years for that love story, for the perfect, pure, unadulterated adoration for another human, like in all those romance novels.

Countless flings and unexplainable anger from all the women who had shattered his heart over and over again had led him to you. Had steered him towards the right path. Perhaps like the yellow brick road, him being Dorothy and you, Emerald City. His final destination.

You’d always been awfully shy. Something Namjoon completely adored about you. Something he knew you were a little insecure about; among other things.

His remedy to your doubt, fucking you until all you knew was his and your names. Fucked so dumb you could only cry, clinging onto him like he weren’t the wolf and you weren’t little red, pure white dove chomped and chewed in his jaws like Carol Ann Duffey had described— you locked in his claws as he ripped away at tattered old clothing.

Past relationships had ended on bad terms for you, similar to himself, because it seemed no one had ever taken the time to read into you properly. Hadn’t taken the time to map out your story on paper and analyze you; the perfect specimen, the apple of his eye, a goddess among humans and his pretty little princess.

So soft and so pretty. Something a little sick, twisted, in his mind that he’d been able to lock you away in a cage like a bird, delicate little wings snapped in two where escape was impossible; thoughts of a life without him nothing more than a breathy whisper in the wind.

“Which one do you want today, sweetheart?” Namjoon’s arm laces around your shoulder, tugging you closer into his side. Your Mary Janes tapping gently against the tile floor.

You peer into the display case, fingers tightly clasped around the sleeve of his hoodie; an anchor for your fraying feelings, anxiety creeping up your spine.

He doesn’t rush you, simply raising an eyebrow at the worker behind the counter who gets angsty at your thoughtful pondering. Line of customers slowly building behind the two of you; and Namjoon can hear a few impatient mutters.

“Strawberry, please” you fall back into his side, weight solely dependent on Namjoon holding you up.

Your boyfriend turns his attention back towards the barista, fingers carding through your hair.

“One americano, a hot chocolate and one of the strawberry cakes, thank you” he turns his attention back to you; watching as you rock and forth on your heels.

“Why don’t you go and pick a table out for us, darling?”

You hum, fingers tugging at his sleeve mindlessly once more before you’re scampering towards a table by the window.

Namjoon feels his cock twitch in his pants as you bend over the table slightly, collecting the discarded straw wrappers that had been left on the table; and he watches your skirt raise a little up your thighs, supple skin taunting him.

He doesn’t bother with whatever the barista tells him, pushing his card across the counter as he watches you; legs bouncing anxiously as you grip the hem of your shirt, finally taking a seat.

He waves at you as he waits at the end of the counter, the scent of freshly brewed coffee thick in the air and Namjoon worries about the impeding headache you’re sure to have.

“Here you go, pretty” he places the tray in the middle of the table, tutting when you go to grab your mug of hot chocolate. You simply fall back into your chair, eyes trained on Namjoon’s hand as he places your drink before you.

“Thank you” you smile up at him as he pulls out the chair beside you.

“You’re welcome” he coos, dragging your chair closer to his own, his neck craning to kiss your temple.

Your smile is shy though your attention is quickly snatched by his fingers that dig around the pocket of his hoodie.

He pushes his phone to your side of the table, hand laying heavy on the back of your neck as you pick it up.

“I’m gonna get a new high score” you tell your boyfriend, turning to give him a determined smile as your tap tap tile game loads.

“Yeah?” he asks, eye smile so pretty you get lost looking at him for a moment. Only snapping out of your own little reverie when he blows on your hot chocolate. “Drink up” he reminds you.

You nod, delicate fingers picking your mug up by the handle, and you watch as Namjoon brings his own coffee to his lips for a taste.

“Good?”

You nod, “Good”

Namjoon’s thumb continues to brush over the back of your neck as you hunch over the table, bottom lip tucked between your teeth as you load up one of the songs of your game.

Your mouth falls open when Namjoon’s fingers dig into the back of your hair, tugging your head back.

He watches as your lips close around the forkful of cake he feeds you, endeared smile on his face as a little bit of the cream clings to the corners of your lips. You don’t seem to take much notice as his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, eyes glued to the screen of his phone.

Your lips part after swallowing, tongue peeking out to lick at the pad of Namjoon’s thumb before he’s slipping it into your mouth.

“Yummy?” he asks, and you fall back into your chair— game suddenly long forgotten as Namjoon’s thumb lays heavy on your tongue.

You nod, fingers itching for the fork. Your boyfriend simply tuts, “Let me do that for you” his thumb slips out of your mouth, soon replaced with another large forkful of strawberries and cream.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon’s attention is quickly snatched from his laptop when he hears a gentle knock on the door of his home office.

You always seemed to count a few seconds before you opened the door, always mindful that he was often busy; even if he’d made it clear that he was never too busy for you.

“What’s wrong, darling?” he closes his laptop, glasses perched on the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not in bed” you whisper, still lingering in the doorway. Frilly-socked feet shuffling anxiously against the carpet.

Namjoon thinks you look like a dream, eyes heavy with lingering sleep, thin strap of your silk nightdress slipping off your shoulder as you curl in on yourself. Always ever so shy, even after years together.

He’d taken his time pampering you that evening. An hour spent in the bath where’d he’d lathered your body in thick suds of soap, sweet smelling like roses that had sat in the summer sun all afternoon, skin warm like petals that had basked in the golden rays of light. Silent promises of a love that will last forever, until he takes his last breath, until the world ceases to exist and his love can longer be— traced under light fingertips that knew your body better than you ever would.

You squirmed as he’d rubbed lotion into every inch of skin your body had to offer— body his temple, your soul his goddess that he worshiped like you were his only purpose in life. Each breath he took, every step he’d continue to take, everything for you.

You’d laid spread across his lap as he’d worked any knots out of your back before dressing you up pretty for bed. Flimsy silk nightdress tickling your skin, brushing against bare thighs, where Namjoon’s hands had the freedom to roam your body until you’d been giggling at him to stop.

His favorite pastime, brushing your hair before bed; his hands those of Rumplestiltskin, each strand treated like intricately created golden thread, gentle as he tugs each knot until perfect.

He’d been there when you’d fallen asleep, bones jelly after he’d fingered you to an orgasm and mind nothing more than cotton candy softness as you’d tugged your precious little bunny to your chest. A gift he’d given you your first date together; and although you claimed you never had favorites , it was always his bunny that remained in your arms as you slept.

And truly he thought tonight he would finish up the last of the project he’d been given, the rest of the week yours; his time cupped in your hands to use however you pleased. The smile you were sure to give him each day after work, worth the pain of a single one nighter.

“I have some work to finish up, why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll be there in a little while” he tilts his head, gentle smile toying at the corners of his lips.

Your lips mould into a pout, “No” you shake your head, voice pulling out a little whiny “You have to come with me, Joonie. Right now”

“But I’m busy, darling” he coos, rolling his chair away from his desk. Legs falling open and he wonders how long it’ll take you to crawl into his lap.

He watches you thrown yourself to the floor, falling to your knees with a dull thump, and he worries they’ll bruise. You don’t seem to care, too pre-occupied with the start of your bubbling tantrum to care about any future injuries; you’ll be sure to milk all of your boyfriend’s sympathy when you he patches you up later. Crying until he’s kissing it all better, and maybe he’ll buy you a gift for being so brave.

He’d seen you scrolling through a few shops online earlier in the day before dinner, rosy-red blush painting your cheeks at a few items you’d hopefully saved.

You hiccup, stuffed bunny clung to your chest as you shake your head. “No, no” you sniffle, “You have to come now” your legs kick a little underneath you.

It was no secret that Namjoon liked to spoil you. Truthfully, he didn’t see the issue— what else was he supposed to do when housing a little princess? If you wanted something then who was he to say no?

Especially when you looked up at him through wet lashes, tears clinging to your cheeks like freshly fallen rain would the petal of a flower.

“Don’t cry” he frowns, heart clenching at the utter distraught on your face; cheeks glazed in saline tears and eyes watery, another miserable cry ready to slip past your lips. “Come here, my precious little baby”

The sob you let out is pitiful, bunny’s fluffy little paw held so tight in your hand as you push yourself to stand. Floppy ears soaking up your tears as you wipe your cheeks.

Namjoon’s hand’s curl under your thighs as you push yourself into his lap, a new wave of tears spilling down your cheeks.

“oh dolly” he croons, “You’ve been fussy all day, haven’t you? What’s wrong?”

Your arms wrap around his neck, face tucked tightly into his shoulder as you choke on another sob. Bunny tucked between your chests.

His thumb is gentle as it brushes over the top of your thighs.

“Tell me what happened” he rests his cheek against the top of your head, mean little smile pulling at his cheeks as your sobs fizzle to little hiccups.

“Work” you whisper, fingers threading into his hair, tugging rhythmically as you mouth at his neck.

“What happened at work?”

You whine, pushing your body flush against Namjoon’s. His hands wander, grabbing your ass as you rock forwards; bare pussy brushing over his pyjama pants.

“There’s a— there’s a new guy” your hips falter and Namjoon holds in a groan as your weight settles right over his cock.

Namjoon hums, “What about him?”

“He—“ a breathy moan drips off your tongue as his fingers dig into the meat of your ass.

“He what, darling? I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong” he murmurs, fingers mean as he tugs your face away from his neck by the back of your hair.

Your mouth falls open, and Namjoon watches your eyes glaze over, though this time it’s not tears; and he wonders if you can see how ruined you look in the reflection of his glasses.

“Tell me” your thighs clenching at his tone.

You whimper, “He said a bad word, can’t say it”

Namjoon’s head tips backwards, “Go ahead and say it, baby. I won’t get mad”

“Promise?”

He smiles, endeared “Promise”

“He asked me on a date” your fingers grasp onto the neckline of his shirt, and your boyfriend hums, “I said no, because I have a boyfriend”

“And?”

He watches as your bottom lip quivers, breath hitching in your throat. “Said you didn’t need to know, could be a quick fuck in the back room”

Namjoon’s jaw ticks, “What’s his name?” his fingers skim over your jaw, your hips jutting forward. “Name, darling”

“Jimin” you breathe, “Told Nana, and she said she’d talk to him”

“Yeah?” Namjoon hums, “I’ll sort him out, okay?”

“Okay” you nod.

“Well done for telling me, darling” he smiles, an attempt to ease any lingering anxiety you had. The last thing he wanted was for you to hate work when you enjoyed it so much.

Your hips rut forwards, Namjoon pulling your nightdress up around your hips, watching as your bare cunt drags over his slowly hardening cock.

You lean forwards, lips brushing over Namjoon’s jaw as his hands guide your hips. You moan as the head of his cock brushes over your clit.

“Feel good, darling?” Namjoon’s breathing is heavy, one of his arms tucking under your thighs as he hoists you further up his chest, his free hand tugging his pants down.

Your hand travels between your bodies, tips of your fingers brushing over Namjoon’s slit, precum oozing out the tip as your hand runs down his length.

“Up you get” he helps you, head of his cock running through your slit as you roll your hips forwards.

You bite down on your bottom lip, watery whines bubbling up your throat with each nudge of your boyfriend’s cock running over your clit. Arousal seeps past your folds down Namjoon’s length.

You hold his cock against your cunt, Namjoon’s fingers digging into your hips, sure to leave bruises, but you didn’t seem to care all that much as your hips roll forward.

“Inside Joonie” you whine, tongue laving over the skin of his neck.

Namjoon takes a hold of the base of his cock, and you use his shoulders as leverage, chair wobbling under your joint weight as you line up his cockhead with your hole.

Your fingers run through your folds, wetness soaking your fingers as you circle your clit gently, Namjoon helping you as the tip of his cock brushes over your hole. And you let out an involuntary whine as the stimulation.

Your arms wrap around Namjoon’s neck, head of his cock splitting you open as you ease yourself down an inch before you’re pulling off slowly.

“Your pretty little pussy is so small” Namjoon groans. Flared cockhead pulling your pussy taught as you try and ease down lower.

You breath gets stuck in your throat, Namjoon’s fingers gently thumbing at your clit as you clench around his length. Slowly starting to stuff each agonizing inch into your cunt.

You whine as you reach the hilt, hips rutting forward messily. You moan at the lick of please that wracks through your body with each slow drag of Namjoon’s thick cock against your walls.

Namjoon pulls your face away from hiding by the back of your neck, tugging you until your lips mould into one, tongue pushed into your mouth, fresh minty toothpaste coating his tastebuds.

You start to bounce in his lap, childish impatience starting to take over as you chase after an orgasm. Always a little greedy when it came to your own pleasure, using Namjoon to get yourself off before you ever allow him to chase his own release.

“That’s it” he moans, unabashed in his arousal.

Namjoon uses his legs as an anchor, holding the two of you in place, ensuring the chair doesn’t tip over as the back of your thighs slap against the top of his own.

You moan as his thumb continues to brush over your clit, a ring of your arousal gathered at the base of his cock with each jittery raise of your hips.

“Doing so well for me” Namjoon groans, “Always such a good girl, yeah?”

“Mhmm” you nod, bunny tumbling to the floor. Long forgotten as you feel the precipice of your pleasure slowly boiling away in your stomach.

“Gonna cum for me?”

Your thighs shake at that, deep groan of pleasure shooting straight to your cunt as you continue to ride Namjoon like it were the last time.

“Go on, cum for me”

Namjoon’s hands find themselves perched under your ass, aiding you as your legs start to grow tired. Muscles in his arms bulging as he drags you up and down his length.

“So small, could use you as my own little fleshlight. You’d like that wouldn’t you?” he groans, mirth swimming in his eyes.

Meanly, Namjoon pinches your clit and that’s all it takes for searing hot pleasure to wash over your body, thighs shaking at your release.

You hiccup another sob at the burning arousal as Namjoon continues to ram his cock back up inside you, thick rivulets of your slick coating his balls as he chases his own release.

“Too much” you cry, hands wrapping around his wrists as his fingers dig into your hips.

“I’m close, hold on for me” Namjoon’s head tips back.

Namjoon can feel your pussy as it pulsates around his length; you let out something akin to a squeak as you feel his cock twitch.

Mouth falling open in a silent moan as his warm cum paints your insides white.

You raise up on shaky legs, tip of his cock left nestled between your walls before you’re falling back down on his length; cum pushed deep inside of you.

“Oh my baby” he coos, fingers gentle as they brush through your hair, “Sleepy?”

You nod, words fizzling out on your tongue as you yawn.

Your cunt continues to clench around his cock, even as you fall asleep on his chest.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

The bell above the door is obnoxious in announcing Namjoon’s arrival.

‘Pages of Love’ the little bookshop you worked at.

He would have gotten you to quit the shitty little job by now if it didn’t hold such significance in your relationship. He’d first met you here, had dates here, and it made you so happy that Namjoon couldn’t bare to see the sad pout that would be sure to form if he ever suggested you left this place behind.

“Namjoon” the old woman behind the counter smiles, waving him over. “I’m sure you’re aware but it’s y/n’s day off”

“Actually, Nana, I’m here for something else” he smiles, expression saddened and the old woman frowns.

“Anything” she nods.

“It’s about Jimin. He doesn’t happen to be working today, does he?”

“He’s on break right now.” She tuts, “Is this about what he said to y/n. I’ve already warned him about it”

“She came home upset” he shakes his head and Nana sighs.

“Poor girl. She’s lucky to have you, Namjoon”

“Thank you” his smile is genuine, though it drops the moment he steps out the door.

And he waits, waits weeks before he decided what he wants to do with the lowly piece of shit that dared suggest you cheat on him.

Waited weeks as he wrote down every sick little fantasy he had about the ways he’d maul his body. Shredding limbs, gutting him alive. Maybe he’d decapitate him and then send his head to his mother, or chop his filthy dick off and make him watch as he fed it to whatever animal is willing to chew on nearly nothing.

Written fantasies weren’t enough. Namjoon’s fingers always itching, always eager to finally wrap around the boy’s lithe throat and make him beg for mercy until his face is red and pride oozing out of his body with his fear.

“I’m gonna be home late tonight, little one” Namjoon tucks your hair behind your ear, gentle smile rivaling your frown.

“Why?” you ask, blinking up at him through your lashes.

“I have a small job I need to take care of”

“Can I help?”

“Nope” he leans down, soft feathery kiss pressed to you cheek before he’s pulling back, standing at full height.

You look up at him, “You can’t go”

“And why not?” he challenges.

“Because” your defense weak and truly Namjoon wishes he could stay.

“I charged your ipad this morning” and your eyes light up.

“Be quick, okay?” you push yourself up on your tippy toes, hands cupping his cheeks as you press a kiss to his lips.

“Promise” he smiles, “Now be a good girl, and don’t cause any trouble”

“I won’t” you wave him off.

✯¸.•´*¨`*•✿ ✿•*`¨*`•.¸✯

Namjoon isn’t exactly sure what he expects to see when he finally gets home, a quick detour to Seokjin’s house to wash off Jimin’s blood and a change of clothes taking longer than he’d anticipated when his friend had insisted on making them both tea.

He can’t help the groan that bubbles up his throat at the sight of you. Skirt flipped up with three fingers, knuckle deep inside your pretty little pussy as you play a colour by number game on your ipad.

“Fucking hell, darling” he kicks his shoes off, jacket long forgotten on the floor as he crouches down in front of you.

You pull your slick covered fingers out of your cunt, gently circling your clit as you blink down at him.

“Couldn’t wait until I got home?”

“I got bored” you whine, legs falling open wider and Namjoon takes that as his invitation to run his thumb through your slit.

His hands hold your thighs in place as he leans down to press a kiss over your clit, tongue slipping from between his lips to lick over the bundle of nerves.

You hips stutter as his tongue drags across your folds, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt at the unexpected nudge of his tongue against you hole.

Your fingers tangle into your boyfriend’s hair as he sucks over your clit, fingers teasing your entrance before he’s pushing two fingers inside of you.

“How pretty” he coos, accompanied by a wet squelch. “The prettiest little pussy, it’s a wonder how you fit anything inside of you”

You squirm, finger stuffed into your mouth as you try and hold back an embarrassed moan.

“Not little” you whine, hips chasing Namjoon’s fingers each time he pulls out.

“Oh, but you are” your thighs twitch as his warm breath brushes over your sensitive clit, hours of mindless toying with your cunt bringing you to the brink of an orgasm.

Namjoon kisses over your mound, kisses over your clit, and then kisses over his fingers as they curl up inside of you.

He can’t help the smile that pulls at his cheeks at the guttural moan you let out when he finds that particular spot inside of you.

“Cum for me, darling” his voice breathless, as he starts to scissor his fingers.

All it takes is one mean little nip to your clit and you’re tipping over the edge; legs shaking as they clamp around your boyfriend’s head.

His tongue continues to flick over your clit, fingers nestled deep within your walls as he helps you ride out your high.

“Enough” you whimper, tugging his head away from between your legs.

You squirm at the glossy sheen that covers Namjoon’s chin when he finally pulls away from your pussy.

“Well done” his hands run up and down your trembling thighs, “Think you can take a little more?”

Your eyes flicker down to his cock, heavy in his pants and you nod; tongue wetting your lips.

“My good girl”

Namjoon pulls you to lay across the length of the couch, fingers tugging your blouse over your head as you shuck off your skirt.

You tug messily at the back of your bra, and Namjoon smiles, bending down to help you.

He groans, taking one of your nipples into his mouth as he palms himself through his slacks.

“God, you’re so pretty”

Your squeak when he bites the plush skin, trail of kisses searing as he reaches your neck.

Your hands fumble with his pants, waistband pulled taught as your try and slip your fingers into his underwear.

“Always so impatient, aren’t you?” he coos, “here let me help you”

You pout at the loss of warmth, the loss of his large body completely covering your own; hands grabbing for neck when he sits up on his knees.

Your hips rock upwards, silently begging for any sort of stimulation as you watch Namjoon’s cock spring free, slapping against his stomach.

Your pussy gushes another wave of slick at the sight of your boyfriend with his hand wrapped around his cock, his hands always had been big; swallowing the girth of his cock when your fingers barely wrapped around it.

You can feel the phantom ache in your jaw, countless times he’d shoved his dick into your mouth, splitting it open like he would your cunt with absolutely no mercy.

“You’re staring” though there’s no embarrassment in his tone, eyebrow lifted cocky and lazy smile tugging at your lips.

“Inside, please” you whine, legs falling open enough for him to slot in place.

“Of course, sweetheart”

Your legs tremble in anticipation, eyes squeezing shut as he runs the head through the slit; slicking up his length before he’s pushing at your entrance.

“You sure you can fit me?” you can hear the laugh in his voice, retort on the tip of your tongue only he chooses that moment to nudge the tip of his cock over your clit.

“Joonie” you complain, “please, need you”

And Namjoon watches, lets you, grab onto his length, watching as you rut your hips down until he’s popping inside of you.

Your walls constrict around him, and he’s absolutely fascinated by how such a small pussy is even able to stretch around him.

“Good girl” and he can’t help the moan that follows.

He’s barely thrusting, gentle roll of his hips feeding each inch of his cock into your wet cunt.

You moan like he was ramming into you, always so sensitive, always so responsive to his touch.

“Feel good?” he asks when he finally bottoms out, thighs connected and heartbeats in sync. It’s moments like these Namjoon revels being alive, being one with you. Truly the closest you’ll ever be to one another; and he thinks he finally feels complete when lodged between your sodden walls.

“So deep” you whisper, fingers skimming over your stomach.

Namjoon pulls your legs over his shoulders, bending forwards until you’re almost folded in half.

Your moan is breathless when he gently pulls out, only to snap his hips back into you.

Your hands grasp onto the pillows of the couch as Namjoon picks up his pace, your tits bouncing, and cunt squelching with every brutal thrust into you.

“Fucking hell, you are tiny” Namjoon groans, and you whimper as his hand presses down on your lower stomach.

You dare take a look, hiccup of a moan ripped from your throat as you see it. An outline of his cock right bellow your belly button, head nudging the taught skin with each thrust into you, only for it to disappear as he pulls out.

Your fingers splay over it, cunt convulsing around his length as your feel him move under your skin.

You feel it rising, pussy swollen and worn from your previous orgasm. Namjoon seems to know, he always knows when you’re slowly climbing to the peak of high.

His fingers find clit, tight little circles sending jolts of pure, blissful pleasure through your body, another wave of arousal seeping out your cunt to soak his cock.

“Gonna cum for me?” he moans between eat thrust, “Be a good girl and cum for me”

The cry you let out is near pornographic, knees knocking against the side of Namjoon’s head as he continues to flick at your clit. Pleasure numbing that when you finally reach your high, your mind blanks, a blanket of fluff consuming you as Namjoon continues to jackhammer into your used cunt.

“Doing so well for me. So close. I’m so close” he groans, fingers finally pulling off your clit as your thighs continue to shake.

When you come to, Namjoon’s thrusts are a sloppy, thrusts barely coordinated as he ruts into you.

And your breath hitches at the final twitch of his cock, he pushes as far into you as he can before he’s cumming.

Thick waves of cum filling you up. He groans as you clench around him, walls still spasming from your own release. And he gently rocks into you, an attempt to push his cum as deep into your soiled cunt as possible.

“You did so well, darling” he swallows thickly, back of his hand wiping the sheen of sweat from his forehead.

You whine as he begins to pull out, mixture of both your releases dribbling out of your hole.

Your thighs twitch when Namjoon parts your lips, hole clenching around nothing as you push another wave of his cum out of your pussy. His fingers scoop it up, circling your entrance before he’s pushing them back between your walls.

“What do you think about a bath?” he hums, watching your eyes fall droopy.

You nod, hands blindly grabbing for your boyfriend to pick you up.

He smiles down at you, arms slipping beneath your body to pick you up as he wanders further into the house.

You wriggle around when he flips the light on, eyes stinging a little at the sudden burst of brightness.

“Alright missy” he sits you on the toilet, and you lean your head against his hip as pee, bones too floppy to even think of holding yourself up.

You remain sat on the toilet as he runs a bath, fussy when he picks you up again though it’s easily soothed with a gentle kiss to your lips.

He thinks you fall asleep as he washes your back, gentle as his soapy hands grope your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you squirm at that.

Namjoon is endeared when the two of you finally get out the bath, skin soft and sweet smelling, perfect for kisses. And he can’t help the laugh that bubbles up his throat when you kick your pyjamas away, refusing to put them on yourself when his hands were fully capable.

“Oh my little princess” he kisses both your cheeks, “How about some cake for being such a good girl?”

You see, Namjoon had always been a little bit of a liar. Had told so many lies that truly he didn’t know the what was real and what was not anymore. And if he didn’t know then you never would either.

Every little lie he’d told you from the start, every white lie, every left out detail of his life suddenly seemed insignificant when you were tucked under his chin, sleeping so peacefully, a true sleeping beauty.

And maybe he didn’t really like the classics. Maybe his real love of novels were romances, because he’d always be the prince and you’d always be his princess. A perfect fairytale that would always have a happy ending.

Because if anyone dared scribble out the pages, change his plot, then he would simply erase their existence, and the readers of his life would never know the difference.

You belonged to him. You are his as much as he is yours.

Your life his only reason. Your happiness that little spark of good that still resides inside him. And as long as you come home every day with that same pretty little smile on your face, then Namjoon feels no guilt for the countless people that lay dead, long forgotten by the world as they rest six feet under for daring bring you sadness. Because he’d erased them, with no way to wiggle their way back into the story of his life.

Because what was a prince if he couldn’t take care of a villain that would disturb his perfect fairytale ending?

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts angst #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #bts x reader #bts imagines #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts requests #namjoon x y/n #bts yandere #yandere namjoon

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sidthedollface2 · 3 months

Text

A Crown fit for a God

Pairing: Azriel x Fem Reader, Eris x Fem Reader

Summary: Azriel sees you tearfully reading and asks Elain for help with a gift.

Warnings: Pining, talks of war, mostly fluff, Elain (it's fine don't worry) hurt/comfort/no comfort.

Word count: 1.6k

A/N: This belongs with a mini series I’m currently working on but it can be read as a stand alone. I’m not a writer so keep that in mind if you find mistakes. Lol.

Azriel watched from afar as you tenderly stroked the soft petals of a daisy. Your eyes closed as you deeply inhaled the floral scent. A soft smile spread across your face, enjoying the fragrance. Azriels heart beat wildly in his chest at the sight.

You sat on a bench next to a shallow pond, small fish and turtles leisurely swimming about. The sun was high in the sky, rays of light breaking through the trees, casting you in a divine glow. From your small satchel you pulled out your beloved book. One of young romance and finding true love, definitely not one of Nestas collection. The novel was about two friends sent to fight a war, similar to the war you fought in. The male had been caught by the enemy, with no way to tell his partner, she assumed he had passed leaving her to fight not only the war alone but live a life without her mate.

Azriel's heart clenched as you softly cried into the book, wiping the tears that rolled down your hot cheeks. He envisioned himself sitting beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, tucked in close to his side. Peppering kisses to your temple, soothing your broken heart kiss by kiss. His daydream was interrupted as Rhys requested him mind to mind.

That afternoon Azriel sat next to Elain in her garden, thinking of you and how all these flowers would be jealous of not only your beauty but of your heart as well. He wished to bring you expensive and thoughtful things, place them at your feet like the God that you were, if only to see that shy smile once again.

He shouldn't have asked, but his mouth moved faster than his brain, “Elain, do you think you can show me how to make a flower crown?” he internally winced. Although he ended things with her the moment he saw you, they still remained acquaintances. He couldn’t bear pursuing you while he was bedding her. It wasn’t fair to drag her along when deep down he knew she wasn't what he truly desired. She was pretty and attractive by fae standards but you were incomparable. An exquisite work of art crafted by the first Gods.

“Azriel, is this for…..” she tried to say your name but it hurt too much. Jealousy ran through her, itching to deny him this simple request.

“Yes, I'm sorry. It was wrong of me –”

“Sit,” she relented, patting the space next to her. “What flowers does she like?”

Azriel took a moment to think, scratching at his chin in concentration.

“Hmm, I’m afraid I don’t know what flower she likes.” He slumped, already feeling useless in his attempt at a sweet gesture.

“That's ok, flowers also have meaning. What do you wish to convey to her?”

“Love.”

Azriel said with a quickness Elaine had never seen before.

“You love her.” Elain stated, smiling at Azriel with pride.

“More than I ever thought possible.” Azriel confirmed with a soft sigh as he cut the stem of a vibrant red rose. “But I don’t want to tell her just yet. Oh, she does enjoy the smell of daisies,” he remembered, picking the white daisies within his reach.

“Then daisies will do.”

Once Azriel gathered enough daisies he proceeded to twist them one by one just as Elain instructed. Holding two daisies, Azriel loops one over the stem of the other making a knot. One by one he loops more daisies to the main stem until it creates a crown large enough to fit on top of your pretty head. Once the main crown is done, he gathers green lace fern and baby's breath intertwining them between the daisies to make the crown appear vibrant and bountiful.

With a friendly hug he thanks Elain for her help and stalks off with a bounce in his step, eager to present his gift to you.

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

Azriel finds you sitting on the wooden bench once again. It had been days since he saw you, Rhys having sent him on a mission before he had a chance to give you the crown. He makes himself known by clearing his throat, “May I join you?” He asks, glancing at the spot next to you, his hands held behind his back.

“Oh! Yes of course.” You glance up at him, noticing he’s not in his usual leathers but a navy collared shirt . It fits him perfectly. Snug around the diameter of his muscular arms and toned pecs. His strong thighs stretch the fabric of his sleek pants, as he takes the seat next to you, gently brushing his thigh against yours.

“I’m sorry to disrupt your reading, but I brought something you might need.”

Azriel then pulled out a blue box with a silver bow from a pocket of shadow, and handed it to you. Surprised at this unexpected gift, you remove the ribbon and within the box folded neatly was a lace handkerchief.

“If it’s real, it will never be over.” Azriel jerked his chin toward your book and your eyes widened.

“You’ve read it?” You beamed, clutching your beloved book to your chest. Holding it near your heart that wanted to desperately find someone. Someone willing to go into battle for the chance to be loved. A chance to find their equal in a world of undeserving immortals.

Azriel smiled and you melted at the sight, he was the light in the dark, a beacon lighting your way and you a moth to the flame.

“Yes, I’ve read it. It gets quite emotional towards the end.”

Azriel looked down with disappointment in his eyes, “I had got you something else, but I’m afraid it wilted before I was able to give it to you.”

You placed your hand on top of his. Azriel didn't flinch but relished in the warmth of your touch. “I’d still like to see it, if that's alright with you?”

Azriel nodded and his shadows carried the fragile crown, gently placing it in your lap. Azriel cheeks flushed, witnessing the cool shadows brushing against the softness of your cheek. For the first time ever he was jealous of them, he wanted to be the one to reach out and touch you, be gentle and tender towards you.

He wasn't known for soft things but for you he’d learn. For you he’d make flower crowns and read romantic books. He’d sit next to you and listen as the wind rustled through the trees, breathing in the citrus scent of your hair and the delicate perfume on your skin.

“I love it.” You gasp, gently thumbing at the browned petals, each touch bringing the flower back to its natural unwithered state. Your touch had the power to bring life to what once was. Flowers, once withered and decayed, are brought back to health. Animals that had been injured or hunted; a single touch healed and brought them back to vitality. Azriel smiled brightly at the display of your magic, “of course you’d be able to fix broken things. Perhaps,” he stalled, looking at his hands, “perhaps you’d be able to fix me too?”

You followed his line of sight, understanding the meaning behind his self-deprecation. Slowly you held his hands in yours, grasping them tightly hoping he’d understand the importance of your words. “Azriel, there's nothing to fix because you're not broken. All your flaws, all your imperfections, it’s what I adore about you.”

Azriels heart could explode, you wound him with your sweet words and gentle touches.

He hopes you’ll want all his flaws, all his imperfections and all his mistakes. He’s had many that's true, regrets that he can't undo, a darkness that can swallow him whole. But despite all his wrongdoings he can only hope you’ll choose him.

With nothing to hold him back slowly he leans forward, a scarred palm cups your soft face and he almost pulls back. Glancing between your supple lips and radiant eyes, he licks his lips closing the distance between–

“ I hope I'm not disrupting.”

Startled, you quickly pull away coming to a stand, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Azriel clenches his jaw, as he stands towering over the Autumn heir in a show of dominance.

Stepping around the winged illyrian, Eris sideyes the boxed gift and flower crown with a look of annoyance and distaste. Before Eris can snatch it, Azriel carefully picks it up and steps in front of you, placing the crown softly on your head. You're breathtaking. He attentively adjusts the strands of hair that frame your face, rubbing your silky waves between his fingers, so much softer than he imagined. Soon, Azriel thinks. He’ll be able to keep you, If you choose to be his of course.

Reminding you of his presence Eris breaks the tension, “It’s time to go love.”

“Will they find eachother again? Once the war is over?” you ask, pleading that true love can withstand even the most violent of battles.

Please tell me love finds a way.

Before Azriel can answer, Eris swiftly pulls you away, wrapping his arm tightly around your waist, squeezing your hip, where he branded your body in a bargain. He kisses the corner of your mouth, looking over his shoulder with a smirk at a seething Azriel.

Azriels deep sultry voice carries in the wind, “in the middle of the chaos on the battlefield, he finds her. And she finally tells him –”

Your hopeful eyes are the last thing he sees as Eris winnows you away, leaving Azriel with three little words whispered in the air. A confession Azriel will one day be brave enough to purr between heated kisses and embraced bodies.

I love you.

#azriel x reader #acotar #acotar fanfic #azriel fanfic #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x fem!reader #azriel x y/n #azriel x you #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar imagine #acotar fanfiction #acrownfitforagod

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itscherrylipsforme · 3 months

Text

The missing piece: Oliver Quick x fem!reader

Part 2 here

Summary: A few months after Saltburn becomes completely his, Oliver still feels like something is missing. Without being able to put a finger on it he decides to pay a visit to Oxford, where all started, trying to find the answer between his old memories. Fate believes that a pretty and sweet student he meets in a bookstore is the piece of the puzzle he needs right now. After all everyone wants to be showered with love, don’t they?

Warnings: Post Saltburn fic, a little bit dark (it’s Oliver, what you expected?), age gap (he is around 15-17 years older), slightly innocent kin? (nothing sexual)

Words: Around 1700

Author's rambles: Okay, I feel in love with him the movie and I am kind of embarrassed about it (It’s not my fault hat the actor has pretty eyes and a gorgeous accent, fine?) For your own good, don’t aspire to have a boyfriend as toxic as him in real life. Also this is my fic on Tumblr, please be nice

Masterlist Characters I write for

Likes and reblogs are appreciated ღ

I do not authorize any of my works to be copied, translated or plagiarized ✗

There is a psychological phenomenon that claims that after achieving something we have been longing for some time instead of the sense of satisfaction we were expecting we feel incomplete, hopeless and already looking forward to our next success. After having the Saltburn's keys just for himself, Oliver experienced that piercing emotion for the first time in his life. If he was painfully unaware of it or simply decided to ignore it remains as an open question until today. The only thing that was certain for him at that time is that he needed some action, a new goal, maybe some entertainment, and specially he needed answers. That’s why he decided to go back to the place it all started nearly sixteen years ago

Oxford hadn’t changed a lot since he graduated, as he had the chance to notice it. Different names, different faces, different decades… But still the same social scheme it was back them. Groups of rich daddy’s and mommy’s children swarming around the campus, pubs where you had to drink to be accepted, and poor little nobodies who had to adapt or die in the process

He rented a large flat not so far away from the university, and in the café just below it he rediscovered a hobby he had always had, but which have been almost forgotten on those last months on the mansion. Looking at the students, being able to read through their facades while accompanied by a cup of coffee, became his new pastime. But people always talk and after some weeks spending the afternoon in the café terrace just lost in his thoughts he realized the odd glances the staff shot towards him, so he decided to hide his true interest behind a less complex and unique one. The next day he went to the closest bookstore to buy any novel that would help him with his purpose, after all, people just ask fewer questions when you are reading on your own. That was when he found you sitting on a couch, legs crossed with a book between your small and soft hands

Pretty, beautiful, gorgeous even. Young, probably still studying at Oxford. On the shy aspect, lovely and smart as he guessed correctly. Sweet smile. Bright eyes. Oh, and some soft curves he was able to peep while he seemed to be looking at the shelves by your side. Wait, was that a blush, what he saw on your cheeks? Another scholarship student as he was back then. The fact that your clothes weren’t from big and expensive brands and that you spent your afternoons in the bookshop without really buying anything was the clue he needed to be sure about it. God, you were adorable, perfect, just what he needed right now and he decided to start working on it

Time had shown him that patience and a good plan could take you far away, this is the reason why, although he was eager to come to you and straight-forward mesmerize you with his tricks, he waited. He spent the next five weeks going to the library more or less daily hoping to see you, and luckily (since he was used to building his own luck) your schedules always matched. He always sat on an armchair to read next to yours, close but not enough to be suspicious. Just after he had made sure you have not so subtly looked at him a few times, he decided to make the move

“The Secret History” a deep silky voice said from behind your seat. His face slightly near to your face which made the words linger in the air for some honey-like seconds “You have a good taste”

“Thanks… Thank you” you manged to say in sweet and shy whisper

“First time you read it?” he asked and a shake of your head was the response he got

“No, I have already read it a couple of times in pdf. But I have never owned the physical book”

“We can have that keep happening, can’t we?” he grinned, and you couldn’t remember if he was the first man who had smiled and looked at you in that way “May I have a look at it?” his large and firm hands came to hold the cover as he stood up and went straight to the cashier “Follow me, darling” the nickname rolled in his tongue, sweet as candy, and before you thought about it, you did as he said. You were obedient, good thing, he thought to himself. He pulled the money out of his wallet in merely seconds, paid for it and hand it back to you

“Thanks, but I can’t accept it” you said slightly embarrassed

“Of course, you can! It truly is an amazing novel, you deserve it” he smirked. His words have had just the reaction he had expected from you, cheeks covered with a tiny hint of pink “I have always found myself relating to Henry Winter, I just need my Camila now”

You were taken back, was that an attempt to flirt? Because if it was, he had your attention. While you tried to make any sense out of your thought, he spoke again

“I am usually on a café nearby, if you are interested you could come sometime” Another smirk, and at that moment you knew that this man was going to be the death to you. Things like this only happened to the main characters in romance movies

“I don’t even know your name”

“ You can call me Oliver, darling”

“I am y/n”

“Beautiful, beautiful y/n, it was a pleasure to meet you. Hope we see each other again”

And you did. Between coffees, books, conversations and more, he had you wrapped around his finger by the time your classes ended. Oliver was sweet, devoted, intelligent… all you could ever ask for in a man. He was straight out of your dreams, and damn he felt you were straight out of his. Innocent, easy to make blush, could keep with his ramblings and most important, you were eager to love, and he was eager to be loved

Yesterday it had been your graduation, when you left the ceremony in that beautiful dress he had insisted on buying you and wrapped your arms around him, he felt like his plan has almost completely succeeded. Almost, you wanted a fairy tale romance, and he was going to give you one. Keeping things slowly and delicate. But when he woke up and felt you laying on his chest sleeping peacefully, he couldn’t help but want to make you his. That had been the only night you had spent in his apartment in your months together. He had sworn to himself that he wouldn't rush, so he didn't. At least he was glad you were coming with him to Saltburn for a few weeks in the summer and you could bet he wouldn’t let you leave the mansion again if he could. After all, you were all that he wanted. His missing piece

Part 2 here

#oliver quick x reader #oliver quick x y/n #saltburn 2023

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joon4eva · 11 months

Text

5+1 — kim namjoon.

OR, five times you wanted to tell Namjoon you loved him + the one time you finally did.

genre. established relationship ✰ fluff, smut (18+), slight angst

word count. ~3214 words

tags. oc pretty much takes forever to tell namjoon that she loves him back; oral sex (m. receiving); unprotected sex; cowgirl position; namjoon is whipped but so is oc; oc quit being so damn dramatic

it's been exactly forty-six days since namjoon told you he loved you. you can feel your chest tightening at the memory.

the first time he had said it, his eyes shimmered with emotion as he gazed at you confidently. he didn't pressure you into saying it back, but that didn't make the decision any easier for you. he assured you multiple times that he wasn't expecting you to reciprocate instantly; he merely wanted you to know how he felt. in the past, you had been hurt by people you'd trusted, and the thought of baring your soul again was terrifying. namjoon was well aware of this.

love had always been a double-edged sword for you. it was a word that carried immense weight, tangled with past hurts and disappointments. the memory of how he looked when he had first told you always replays in your mind. so sure, so genuine. his eyes spoke worlds of sincerity, and you wished you could find that same strength. because it was true; you did care about him —no— you loved him. but opening yourself up to love again meant exposing your vulnerability, risking the possibility of being hurt once more. the challenge now was finding the right moment – and the strength – to tell him. it has become obsessively frustrating.

in the quiet corners of your heart, there were five distinct moments when you desperately wanted to tell him you loved him:

the first time came just a week after he told you he loved you. it was pouring with rain– cold droplets slamming against your skin – and namjoon went out of his way to walk you home under the shelter of his umbrella despite living in the complete opposite direction. despite this and despite your protests, he insisted. with his umbrella firmly held above both your heads, his gentle smile warmed your heart as water dripped down onto his jacket's collar, soaking him through while trying to protect you from getting wet.

namjoon grinned through raindrops clinging to his face, casting a sidelong glance at you before reassuring you, "it's a great excuse to spend more time together." heavens knew how easily that brief twinkle of adoration in his eyes could have coaxed the confession from you then and there.

the second time was an early morning when namjoon knew he would not see or talk to you throughout the day since his busy work schedule kept him occupied. as you groggily rubbed sleep from your eyes and checked your phone, there was a message from him:

joon ♡ : don't forget breakfast! it's cold outside so enjoy something warm :) i'll be thinking of you. love, joon.

attached was a cute selfie of him pouting while holding up a piece of toast as if to say, "see? i'm eating. you should too." the text glowed on your phone screen in the early light of dawn, filling you with warmth as if it could chase away any lingering remnants of sleep.

one morning while preparing for work, you find namjoon sitting in your shared living room, quietly reading a book as sunlight filtered through the curtains. as you slipped on your coat, tugging uncomfortably at the unfamiliar fabric under his watchful gaze, his attention shifted subtly from the novel's pages to rest upon you. a small yet meaningful smile graced his face while he studied you intently.

feeling both shy and slightly self-conscious with the weight of his eyes on you, you glanced at him and then away. "i'll be back later in the evening," you announced, the words spilling out in a rush. "and i'll bring dinner." his response was simple: "okay. love you." and then that familiar dimpled grin of his emerged as he returned to his book and the chapter awaiting him - almost like it was just another routine sentence to say every day.

you're left rooted in place, a momentary shock at hearing those words pass again so casually between his lips dulling your movements. panic quickly set in as the need to get to work on time surged through you; without another word exchanged between the two of you—no acknowledging glance or reassuring smile—you hurried out flustered. the tears welled up in your eyes while frustration overtook you.

on the third instance, it was his birthday, and you had prepared a surprise for him.

you had spent hours planning the perfect day filled with small surprises and thoughtful gestures tailored just for him. from his favorite breakfast waiting for him in bed when he woke up to the neatly wrapped presents and handwritten notes hidden around his apartment—every detail had been meticulously planned.

with each note he read aloud and every sparkling tear that touched his cheek, your heart threatened to burst from your chest. but as he pressed his lips to yours and pulled you close for a tender embrace, fear tightened its grip on your voice. the vulnerability that love demanded felt overwhelming, and you hesitated, grappling with the desire to pour your heart out and the fear of baring your soul. so, instead of speaking the words that danced upon your tongue, you tightened your embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

the fourth time came after a dinner party with some of your closest friends. namjoon had looked incredibly charming and every bit like the perfect boyfriend. he was dressed in a crisp white button-down shirt, paired with dark trousers that hugged his toned legs perfectly.

he was the epitome of a gentleman throughout the evening, consistently attentive to your needs. he held doors open for you, maintained eye contact when you both conversed, and even shared bites of dessert with you using the same spoon. as mundane as this would sound to other people, this was all just new to you. namjoon also took several opportunities to compliment you in front of your friends and found subtle ways to touch you affectionately while he talked to your friends – holding your hand or ever-so-gently running his hand along your thigh beneath the table, his caressing fingers gradually moving upward before retracing their path all the way down. his presence made your heart race all night long, but it was his occasional teasing touch inching dangerously up and down your leg that drove you to the edge.

as soon as both of you got to his apartment, namjoon had barely begun speaking when you pushed him back against the wall and pressed your lips onto his. the raw need in your eyes said more than any words could.

"can't… can't take it anymore," you stammered between kisses.

he was caught off guard and managed to stutter out, "w-what has gotten into you?" as you peppered a trail of wet kisses all over the column of his neck. his eyes were wide and dazed, a swirling combination of disbelief and lust.

"there's something i need," you murmured against his lips as your hands fumbled with his belt buckle.

with namjoon's pants bunched around his ankles and his back pressed against the door, you eagerly dropped to your knees while looking up at him – locking eyes and taking him into your mouth as he gasped softly in response. his appreciative moans served as music to your ears as you bobbed up and down; they grew louder once he tangled his fingers into your hair.

"don't stop," he breathed out shakily, reaching climax and releasing every ounce of his cum into your mouth, which you entirely swallowed.

breathlessly, namjoon allowed himself to be practically dragged by you towards his bed where he laid back against the headboard. his clothes now discarded on the bedroom floor along with yours; only illuminated by dim moonlight filtering through the curtains, you straddled his hips and sunk down on his cock, moaning his name loudly as you felt every ridge and every inch of him deliciously stretch you open. your hips bounced diligently and relentlessly, and you willed yourself to push past the fiery sensation building in your thighs.

the dazed look in namjoon's eyes as he watched you was a sight forever burned into your memory — his hands moving to guide your hips in a steady rhythm as he kept his back pressed against the headboard for support, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead as they trailed down his face and neck. his moans filled the room – sometimes soft and breathy, at other times deep and guttural – intermingled with throaty curses.

afterward, exhausted and sated, you collapsed onto namjoon's chest, feeling the warmth and strength in his embrace as he gently stroked your hair.

the silence was broken by namjoon's breathy exhale as he uttered a quiet, "wow," coaxing giggles out of both of you. you raised your head to look up at him, pressing a tender kiss onto the corner of his lips, following it with a deeper one right on his mouth.

his hands continued their soothing journey along your back, fingers caressing the delicate skin while gazing at you with a hazy post-orgasmic expression. "everything okay? we barely made it through the door after dinner before you dragged me into the bedroom," he asked gently, drawing laughter from you.

as you traced circles along his cheek with a delicate finger, all you could muster in reply was, "nothing, i just… appreciate you. a lot." flashing him a coy smile, you added, "and also…you just looked really hot at dinner."

with a chuckle, namjoon squeezed your side and pulled you closer to wrap his arms around you tightly, as if to make sure you wouldn't slip away from him for even a moment. his hand slipped from your back, traveling up to cup the side of your face.

"for what it's worth," he murmured sincerely, "i appreciate you just as much – if not more."

as both of your breathing slowed and synchronized with each other's heartbeat, it was then that the words almost tumbled from your lips – just how much you truly loved him too. and though you didn't say it out loud, somehow, in that moment, namjoon seemed to understand.

the fifth moment unfolded late one night when out of nowhere, namjoon showed up at your door at 2 a.m., pleading for you to go eat together. he insisted his sudden burger craving could not wait until morning. with an irresistible grin on his face, he managed to convince a grumbling, half-asleep you to join him to satisfy his hunger pangs.

so there you were, parked in an empty lot eating burgers together. you could never say no to namjoon.

as you both sat in your car, the atmosphere was light and easy. the image of him eating so nonchalantly in his adorable cartoon pajamas still brings a smile to your face – his large frame somehow looking small and innocent inside your car. you bickered playfully about the merits of dipping fries in ketchup versus mayonnaise.

"oh come on! ketchup is way better with fries!" namjoon exclaimed between bites.

he flashed a cheeky grin at you as he continued eating. then, as if to prove a point, he dipped an already ketchup-soaked fry into even more ketchup - only to miss his mouth entirely. the bright red condiment smeared on the corner of his lip. the look of determination on his face quickly dissolved into confusion.

biting back a grin, you reached across the console to wipe off the ketchup with your finger. "can't take you anywhere," you murmured, before popping your finger into your mouth, savoring the tangy taste as you raised one eyebrow. his eyes widened in surprise, his mouth full of burger, and then, in one spontaneous movement, he leaned across the center console to plant a greasy kiss on your cheek.

"namjoon!" you squealed, feigning annoyance as laughter bubbled up in your chest. "now i have burger grease on my face!"

it was in that moment – as namjoon flashed one of those smiles that could have outshone the moon itself – when you felt the words right there on the tip of your tongue until a familiar anxiety held them back.

—

it was a chilly evening when work schedules had kept you apart for over a week. after much tip-toeing, you decided this was the night you were going to tell him. you picked up your phone and dialed namjoon's number, hoping to hear his voice and perhaps even see him that night. to your dismay, he failed to answer both your calls and texts. worried that something was wrong and missing him dearly, you slipped into your shoes and donned a warm jacket before making your way to the front of the building where he worked.

standing outside his building, waiting impatiently while shivering in the freezing air, your anticipation grew as time turned sluggish. and when he finally appeared, your heart skipped a beat, only to plummet moments later.

when he finally emerged from behind those doors, it felt like everything was happening in slow motion – your eyes locked on him as he exited, but much to your surprise, he was not alone. walking beside him was another woman. their camaraderie appeared innocent enough – perhaps she was just a coworker – but then she lightly touches his arm and laughs at something he said. namjoon's hands are both shoved into his pockets as they pause near entrance to continue their conversation. your heart sank as the woman pulled out her phone, leaning in to eagerly show something to namjoon, who couldn't help but coo at whatever it was. you stand there rooted in place as jealousy, like a ferocious wildfire, seared through your veins, igniting an inexplicable rage.

eventually the conversation ends and they part ways. namjoon's gaze shifts, eyes landing on you as he spots you standing there stiffly. oblivious to your internal conflict, his face lights up with a surprised grin as he strides towards you, visibly puzzled to find you there yet eager to close the gap between you. with tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you abruptly turn away and begin to walk home, attempting to shield your burgeoning feelings.

it was all irrational, really. namjoon never gave you a reason to not trust him. but you suddenly felt like you were somehow destined to re-live the same thing over again; the distance, the secrecy, the lying–even though namjoon himself has never done anything like this during your entire relationship. would this mark the beginning? it scared the shit out of you.

you could hear him call your name, confusion lacing his voice. with no sign of stopping and keeping your distance, namjoon went from a stroll to a sprint, frantically trying to reach you.

his calls grew louder and more frantic, and the sound of his footsteps closing the distance sent your heart racing further. he finally caught up and gently wrapped his arms around your trembling frame along with yours around his waist.

"what's wrong?" he panted breathlessly. "why are you out here in the cold? why are you crying?"

gasping for air and choking on tears that now freely flowed down your cheeks, you managed to stammer out: "i… i called you, and you didn't answer… i missed you, and i came to see you, but then i saw you with–" the words spilled out between gasps for air, your voice quivering.

namjoon's eyes widened with disbelief and understanding, as he realized the true cause of your distress. his reaction was one of tender empathy; immediately drawing you into a tight and warm hug.

his touch felt both comforting and reassuring as his hand cradled the back of your head, his voice filled with tenderness. "oh, my love, i'm so sorry. i didn't mean to worry you." you clung to him fiercely, as if he'd vanish if you let go; your every tear searing his shoulder like acid.

"don't worry," namjoon reassured gently while still holding you in his arms. "she's my colleague... and she’s actually gay. she just wanted to show me pictures of her baby who was born recently. it was nothing more than that."

you softly gasped, feeling foolish for jumping to conclusions. you blubbered out an apology, retreating back into his chest as a fresh wave of sobs broke through. "i…i'm so sorry… i shouldn't have thought like that…"

namjoon rocked you both soothingly in his arms. "it's okay," he reassured, rubbing his large hand up and down your back soothingly. "we all make mistakes; it's all okay."

slowly pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, namjoon cradles your face in his hands – his touch warm and gentle. with care, he wipes away the remnants of your tears with his thumbs. as your sobs subside and are replaced by soft hiccups, namjoon's warm breath brushes against your forehead before he presses a tender kiss onto it. "today was really hectic at work," he admits with a shaky sigh, "i should have called to keep you in the loop. i'm sorry for making you worry like that, baby."

but instead of answering him, your inner turmoil ceased as you looked into his deeply concerned eyes; realizing that this overwhelming emotion inside wasn't just jealousy. it was love — desperate, all-consuming love that begged to be acknowledged and reciprocated.

through teary eyes, you look up at him in disbelief because he just seemed almost too good to be true. the words slip from your lips before you could stop them.

"i love you."

for a moment, namjoon freezes and blinks at you, his eyes searching yours intently, looking for any trace of uncertainty. it felt like an eternity before he reacted, and during that brief pause, the anticipation made your heart pound wildly in your ears.

finally, namjoon breaks into the most adorable smile you'd ever seen, barely managing to suppress a giggle by biting his lip. gently rubbing your arms to calm you further, he responds: "i know."

"namjoon!" you tearily half-scold, half-laugh in disbelief, playfully hitting his arm. he bursts out laughing at your reaction, intertwining his fingers with yours affectionately.

"it must have been difficult for you to say that."

through the remnants of tears, you admit: "i've tried to tell you so many times… but every time i wanted to say it… i just-"

namjoon doesn't let you finish your sentence. he watches you closely for a moment before leaving your hands to cup your cheeks delicately in his palms. as he pulls you closer to him, he leans in and presses his lips against yours in a slow and mindful kiss.

his tongue tentatively grazes the seam of your lips, seeking entrance, and you part them slightly. his teeth lightly graze your bottom lip, coaxing a quiet sigh from within you. a soft moan escapes before you're able to stifle it, and only then do you recall that the two of you are still standing out in public. the taste of him lingers on your tongue as he pulls away, and a soft whine escapes your lips at the loss of contact.

"i told you i wasn't expecting you to say it back," he murmurs, "the way you show me your love every day is enough. you, just as you are, are enough for me."

#kim namjoon #knj #bts #bts imagine #kim namjoon imagine #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #kpop imagine #bts smut

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txttletale · 1 year

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What's worm? I can't exactly google it bcs of the name but I'm intrigued

worm (2011-2013) is a web novel about superheroes by a canadian author who goes by wildbow. it was published serially over the course of two years and in that time managed to get well over a million words long. i think it's very good for a couple reasons:

it takes an approach to 'deconstructing the superhero genre' that i don't think i've ever actually seen--instead of something like the boys or watchmen it doesn't extrapolate forwards from 'what would superheroes be like if they were real', but instead extrapolates backwards from 'what real-life conditions would have to exist to lead to superheroes acting like they do in comics'. the world of worm is believable, well-drawn, and interesting to inhabit

it has incredible character writing. this might not be one of the first things most people associate with it but wildbow has an amazing capacity for giving characters, even side characters that appear for half a chapter, extremely intriguing personal and internal conflicts. sometimes wildbow will write a chapter from the perspective of a side character you never see again and it will leave you wishing they had their own novel series. also despite a lot of problems wildbow has with Some Demographics, most of these well-developed characters are the female ones, who get to dominate the emotional landscape and the plot in a way that's refreshing to see tbh

the protagonist is great. a lot of attention is paid by some fans to the fact that she's a smart problem-solver, and that is true--her power is 'controlling bugs' in a world where other people can fly and shoot lasers, so she has to get smart with it. but i like her mostly because she's an extremely traumatised freak making horrible decisions and justifying them to herself post-hoc constantly. it's fun and interesting to be in her head

worm gets away from a lot of the more reactionary undertones that the superhero genre often fails to escape by making powers an in-universe result of (and, on a narrative level, a pretty clear metaphor) trauma. they are essentially coping mechanisms exaggerated to the point of superpower--because of this it neatly avoids two genre pitfalls because 1. there is no 'some people are better and stronger from birth' angle and 2. it mostly takes a social view of crime--supervillains in worm aren't cartoonish forces of evil (mostly), they are people who are marginalized and desperate.

the powers are cool. this is lower down on my personal list of reasons i like worm than many people's but it's undeniable true. each character has a strictly defined powerset with certain inbuilt limitations that both work to say volumes about their personality but also make fight scenes fun and interesting to read because wildbow puts a lot of thought into how they interact

this is not intentional and worm is at times downright homophobic but i would be lying if i said this didn't play a part in how i and most people i know think about worm: a queer reading of the main character is very easy to make, and the intense and at times tempestuous relationship she has to the girls around her is damn compelling. don't go into it expecting 'representation' or anything, wildbow has insisted at length that the main character is straight. but fr shes gay af

now all this said: there's a lot of nasty stuff that happens in worm. there is a lot of body horror and a lot of insect horror. there are so many instances of bugs being forced into human orifices in this book i could have filled out this list with that instead. so if that turns you off give this one a miss. child abuse and violence against children in general is also something that comes up semi-regularly.

and to expand on something i said in the post that i assumed prompted this question--when these topics come up, worm does a very very poor job of handling race and a better but still not great job with gender and sexuality. the world outside north america is sketched with a looseness and a lack of research that borders on caricature (i can think of like five organizations/characters that were very clearly named through google translate). the pacing takes a huge hit after a certain event in the back half of the story, and it can be a little exhausting to read because it is both thematically and literally about constant crisis and escalation.

still, if none of that is a dealbreaker for you, i'd recommend it 100%. i'm definitely glad i've read it. it's a powerful story about trauma and authority and control that does reward the outrageous time commitment it demands. there's also a fanmade audiobook if that sweetens the deal for you. i haven't listened to it but i've heard that it's pretty decent for a volunteer effort.

#ask #long post #worm #girlbossgoroakechi #somehow i doubt 'really homoertic but in a homophobic way' will be a dealbreaker for you . tumblr user girlbossgoroakechi

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gravitycavity · 12 days

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[Preview] ☀️ Sunshine (Pomni x Ragatha) Chapter 6

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

Ragatha drifted away from the cozy embrace, warm breath shuddering in sync with the rest of her body. Her good eye peeked open — just a crack. Her hands turned slack and listless. One-by-one, her bulky fingers lost their grip on Pomni’s tunic until, at last, the ragdoll felt herself falling.

Pomni caught her, of course — Ragatha knew she would.

Safe and secure in the arms of her darling, the dolly pulled her legs toward her core, making herself small as her eyes dragged all the way open. It had felt like an eternity since she’d last laid her eyes upon her dashing knight, and she couldn’t stand to wait a single second more.

She was just that beautiful.

Pomni’s hesitant smile, framed by her perennial blush, regarded Ragatha from high above. Ragatha’s face bloomed to match it. The jester brightened, too. Back and forth they went, reflecting the other’s expression until each woman’s face had been sculpted into a mask of pure radiance.

“...So?” Pomni beamed. A hint of pride had snuck into her grin while Ragatha wasn’t looking, “How was that?”

Wonderful. Absolutely, unbelievably, impossibly wonderful. Never before had Ragatha felt this kind of rush — her head fuzzy, her limbs tingling, her heart beating so quickly that it actually hurt.

If any of her past romantic rendezvous were any indication, Ragatha had been sure that all those romance novels had been exaggerating. She didn’t think it was actually possible to become breathless at the mere thought of another person. She didn’t think the sight of a single pair of eyes could actually make the whole world cease to exist — yet here she was, cuddled up in the arms of another, stupidly in love.

But there was no chance in hell she’d actually say any of that sickeningly-saccharine fluff out loud, of course. Goodness gracious, could you imagine? No, Ragatha’s love language was a little bit more subtle than that — and, contrary to her usual personality, a little bit meaner, too.

“Hmph.” Ragatha crossed her arms, pointing her face toward the wall. She pursed her lips to conceal a sly smile. “Just as I suspected…”

Pomni’s newfound confidence cracked just like that, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing. Just…” Ragatha teased, spinning her ankle, “Oh, nevermind.”

“Nevermind!? You can’t just say that!”

“I just did.”

“Ragatha!” Pomni fumed, “Tell me!”

“Alright, if you insist,” Ragatha pretended to force out a hard sigh, barely able to contain her boisterous laughter. Good lord, teasing this girl would never, ever get old. “Don’t get me wrong. Kissing you was a dream come true, but,” she paused, “and please don’t take this the wrong way—”

“Spit it out, already!”

“— you aren’t a very good kisser.”

Pomni's whole body thrashed backward; her face was fully boiled. “WH-WHAT?!”

“Sorry, to burst your bubble, Sweetheart, but I’m too nice to lie to you. That was pretty bad.” Ragatha smirked, seizing hold of Pomni’s tunic once again. She pulled herself in, utterly captivated by the nervous panic spreading across the jester’s face. “Looks like I have a lot to teach you…”

“W-Well…!” Pomni squirmed in place, sweat beading on her brow, “You are pretty good at that! T-T-T-Teaching, I mean…”

“Yeah?” Ragatha laid down a trio of smooches on Pomni’s cheek, giggling all the while. “So I’ve been told~”

“Y-Yeah…!” Pomni clumsily nodded. Eventually, at the end of a long, winding stream of swallowing, stammering, and shuddering, the awkward young woman finally found her words. “So, um,” Her voice was small, and shrinking by the second, “maybe, if it’s okay with you, you could sh-show me the right way? Using that special teaching method of yours…?”

Ragatha blinked. “Special teaching method?”

“You know! Your, um…” the heat radiating off of Pomni’s face nearly fogged up the ballroom’s grandiose windows, “...hands-on approach?”

---

Thank you for your patience! I'm working hard on chapter 6. Tell me what you think of the preview! :)

[Click here to read from the beginning on AO3!]

#pomni x ragatha #ragatha x pomni #ragapom #buttonblossom #jesterdoll #pomnitha #the amazing digital circus #tadc fanfiction #tadc sunshine #pomni #lesbian #tdac pomni #tadc fic

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psychopasss4 · 3 months

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PPP Novel is out❣️

...just in time for the Lunar New Year Eve, Feb. 9th. 🎉

Noitamina Shop will hold Arata Shindo-kun's bday campaign and at the same time promotes the PPP novel sale 🥂🥳.

Have you already prepared dried persimmons? 🤗 You know, in ancient times people used to wind-hang outside Hoshigaki, thus the Japanese lantern shape we know about today were taken from. 📸 Google Images.

Quick Review:

During the premier of PPP movie before the Global launch, fans kept asking Dir. Shiotani about

The meaning of empty liquor bottle in Kogami's desk.

Why Kogami removed his jacket during his balcony scene

And his answer were simple. Kogami didn't know the difference of wearing it inside or outside. At first, I thought it was some kind of a funny little joke, or I didn't understand the words full well (I'm not a full-bred Japanese though I studied Nihonggo way back in grade school).

But if you read the PPP novel, you will realize Kogami isn't fully adjusted from his traumatic experiences as a mercenary overseas 🤧. So he doesn't feel how to act just as he used to when he's back.

And ofcourse, we all know he and Saiga only emptied the liquor after long hours of chatting and Tonami profiling.

2. It's interesting that the writing team have taken the pulse of the fans during the Q&A session, thus some points in PPP novel is what we might've expect after all 🤭.

3. Some may say it's nothing new. As it seems the writing team pretty much remain loyal to the movie summary. But if you read between the lines, you realize how it is a bit forgiving & fan-serving, compare to the movie itself 👍🏻.

4. The locations...last minute alterations... 😆😂.

5. And ofcourse the last time Akane spent with Saiga on his detention cell 😭. She literally blame herself for asking him to come to them on Dejima in MoFA's HQ to retrieve the Stronskaya Papers a day after. Which we all know ended tragically.

6. She pulls the trigger. She question the justice. Which quotes the same kind of line from PP3 novel when she's writing her thoughts down in an analogue typewriter. From that scene she thought of Kogami's action and how Sybil judged him for that.

But in PPP novel, no doubt she puts into consideration the life of Atsushi Shindo and how he was used as a pawn, only to be a master pawn who puppets the life of another pawn like what happened to Akira Ignatov.

Aswell as Akira Ignatov's sacrifice. He volunteered to be a puppet for the sake of the future generation. For the sake of his brother in particular 😢😓😓😢.

7. Frede-chan's holding back and being indecisive to keep the truth about the mission to Kogami. Is like keeping her phone number to her crush 😹🤭. Sure, she's just conscious how would Kou-chan would react since she knows Saiga and him are pretty close 😮‍💨.

8. The writing team did a pretty good job by staying true to their plot work. They know what they're doing. As if taken up some piece of advice from Gege Akutami 😅😂.

9. The last scene is pretty much heart-aching but well executed 😘🤌🏻❤️

10. The General was a medical AI but I wonder if the creator of Sybil also created that?... how about BiFrost? Oh hello, Season 4! We're waving at you ☺️😀!

11. Many hate Akane for trying to control Kogami, again?! Let me get this straight, SHE ISN'T CONTROLLING ANYONE!

There's a MASSIVE difference when he a.) first pulled the trigger against Makishima (out of revenge) and when he b.) pulls that against Tonami.

Akane knows it best.

a) She doesn't want him to be a person swallowed by revenge like Sasuke (Naruto).

b) She hopes Kogami is back for the better but instead he acted again with his animal instinct which indicates he can still be easily outplayed by emotions instead of not letting it get the human out of him.

Akane still looks up to Kogami. She knows he was labeled as a latent criminal by Sybil. But the way Kou acted is like proving to Sybil that their labeling of him as latent criminal was right. And if there's one thing Akane isn't fond of, that is proving Sybil right.

So it's not about Kogami. It's about her campaign against Sybil's false and unfair judgement! So don't mock her! 😖

Lastly, PPP novel is enjoyable because a lot of fans are exerting efforts to translate it to English for fans abroad. Kudos to you all❣️

Not everyone have the time, capacity and dedication you've spent. Including me, I'm not good in translation. So thank you. You are the heart of PSYCHO-PASS franchise global expansion ❤️🥰.

End of Review.

Okay, so that wasn't a quick one 😋 sorry about that. I just hope you guys have a wonderful day. Have fun and enjoy everything that you do!

🥰🤗

Meanwhile, the original crew of PP1 are in their podcast discussing how the series have been progressing so far 😋😂

Nah! It's just a trace sketch of CD Discussion Vol. 1

🤣🤣🤣

#psycho pass providence #pp 10th #pp anime #pp official #psycho pass committee #Psycho pass novel #Noitamina Shop #shinya kogami #tsunemori akane #arata shindo #akira ignatov #shindo atsushi #shogo makishima #ginoza nobuchika #hanashiro frederica #shinkane #koaka

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feralbutfluffy · 7 months

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56: Crowley

Chapter 56 of Too Wise to Woo Peaceably

*******

Crowley had opened his mouth and then found himself completely incapable of closing it again.

Spurred by the stifling silence, he’d unwittingly opened an artery and watched helplessly as every last wounded, heartsore, mortifying thought came pouring out of him. He had committed the sort of emotional seppuku he had been carefully avoiding for literally thousands of years, and he felt like he might be bleeding out right there on the sofa.

He had spent much of the previous five minutes wishing desperately that Muriel might conveniently appear at the door with an obscene amount of wine, or at the very least a couple of bottles of Talisker.

However, just as he’d been wondering if it was possible to discorporate from abject discomfort, Aziraphale had finally said something, and even though he’d had to go and be infuriatingly circumspect about it... Crowley was pretty sure the words he had strung together had meant I love you too.

Which seemed impossible, but he supposed he would just add it to the increasingly lengthy list of impossible things that had happened lately.

Aziraphale was turned towards him. A tear dropped from his jawline as he gave Crowley a wobbly smile that did things to his insides. He suddenly became aware of the fact that he was crushing Aziraphale’s little finger and, with considerable effort, forced himself to relax his hand.

Crowley wanted to look away, because this - whatever this was - was painfully intimate. It was galling, really. Barely touching and he felt as if the angel had zipped him open at the throat, exposing every part of him.

Except, well, he’d been the one to do that to himself, hadn’t he?

Here, he might as well have said. Ruin me.

He watched Aziraphale warily, and in response the angel shuffled closer, banging their knees together clumsily.

Crowley didn’t so much as blink.

He’d said everything he had wanted to say. He had also said everything he hadn’t wanted to say. He was cracked wide open, head swimming, waiting. Waiting to know what happened next, waiting for Aziraphale to say more, and he was good at waiting, he’d waited for so long, a few more minutes shouldn’t feel so excruciating.

But they did.

Aziraphale looked away and the fingers of his free hand fluttered nervously against the suede of the sofa.

“I have some things to say too, I suppose,” he started, and his voice sounded higher than usual, tight with strain. He coughed lightly, managing to get it back down to its usual register. “I think I’ve rather been getting in my own way when it comes to…” he tilted his head towards Crowley, still avoiding his gaze. “... us .”

Crowley took a deep breath and held it, feeling a bit like he was preparing to be held underwater.

“I think- Well all of those things you said, they're as true for you as they are for me, but I- I think- Ah, I suspect maybe I chose not to think on it, because I wasn’t quite brave enough to face the truth of the matter. Which is…” he trailed off. “Well, you know.”

Crowley’s eyes narrowed. If he thought he was going to get away with-

“That I’m hopelessly in love. With you.” The words sounded torn from his chest, “...Too.”

Crowley bit down on his tongue; the urge to yell ‘No takebacks!’ was almost overwhelming.

“I thought if I could just get you to dance with me-”

Crowley’s eyebrows slammed together. “What?”

“I thought we might do some formal dancing, and then we would realize that we were actually in love...” Aziraphale looked guilty. "... Like in Jane Austen's novels."

Crowley narrowed his eyes.

“I know I’ve said this before, but you read” - grumbled Crowley in an exasperated tone - “entirely too many books. How was I meant to pick up on that? Why couldn’t we have managed it without the formal dancing?”

Aziraphale shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know! But we didn’t, did we? Manage it, I mean.”

“Didn’t even manage it with the formal dancing,” Crowley pointed out, and Aziraphale’s face crumpled a bit. He nudged the angel’s knee with his own and leaned in. “You never know, might have worked without the demons trying to storm the shop.”

Crowley seriously doubted it, but Aziraphale brightened at the thought so he let it go.

“You know,” said Aziraphale, and he lowered his gaze, “I did try to show you.”

“Show me what?”

The angel was tracing a line along the suede, watching the velvety nap alternate between dark and light as he rubbed it one way and then the other.

“That I felt for you. That you were important to me. That I loved you, before I consciously knew that I loved you.”

The way he said it, the way he let it roll almost casually out into the air between them, made Crowley’s ribcage feel like a vice, his heart and lungs squeezed in a punishing grip.

“Ngk?” he said.

It was an embarrassingly inelegant sound.

“With the tartan,” Aziraphale said, as if it were perfectly obvious.

Crowley blinked and then pointed, bewildered, at the folded blanket on the armrest.

“The blanket?”

“No, the tartan .” Aziraphale was frowning, as if Crowley was being intentionally dense.

“I don’t follow. You’ve lost me. Are you speaking in code? Are you saying ‘tartan’ and actually meaning something else entirely?”

“No,” said Aziraphale, looking flustered, “I’m saying ‘tartan,’ and meaning ‘tartan’.”

The -you idiot was silent, but Crowley heard it all the same.

“Don’t you know anything about tartan?”

Crowley stared at him for the longest moment. “No,” he said slowly, “No, I do not. Why would I? In over six thousand years, when have you ever known me to willingly wear tartan? And don’t even think of mentioning the tartan collar, that does not count thankyouverymuch, that was you. As me. But still you.”

Aziraphale huffed and sat back a bit, clearly put out. “Never mind then.”

“No, no. No. You’ve somehow - against stacked odds, let me tell you - managed to make tartan sound intriguing,” Crowley said. “So you may as well tell me. Consider me interested. What should I know about tartan other than the fact that you have a disproportionate fondness for it?”

A pink flush was spreading up Aziraphale’s neck.

It was delightful.

It made Crowley want to kiss it.

“Forget I mentioned it,” the angel muttered, turning more pink by the second.

Crowley grinned. “Oh, I think the chances of my forgetting any part of this enchanting conversation are abysmally low. Go on, torture me with tartan facts.”

Aziraphale blanched at the word ‘torture’ and Crowley grimaced apologetically. “Too soon. Right.”

He eyed the angel’s bow tie with an entirely new and unfeigned interest.

“So. Tartan…?” he prompted.

Aziraphale straightened the bow tie unnecessarily, as if his hands needed something to do.

“This is, ah- That is to say, I had this dress tartan made for me sometime around the mid-1800s. It’s mine. It’s unique.”

“Right.”

The pink hue was back in Aziraphale’s cheeks.

“Different families - different clans - they each have their own unique tartan.”

“Different people, different tartan. Got it.” Crowley gave him a nod.

“Yes. Well, different clans or families, different tartan, but yes, basically. I couldn’t, for example, wear another clan’s tartan without their express permission, because wearing it is something of a claim; using their tartan would then, er, mark me as belonging to their clan, you see.”

Aziraphale gazed meaningfully at Crowley and waited.

Right. Clearly he was meant to have gleaned something important from that bit of information.

His eyes moved from Aziraphale’s face to his bow tie, and from his bow tie to the blanket.

He thought about the tartan collar Aziraphale had added to his jacket when they had swapped forms. He thought of the tartan thermos full of Holy water. He thought of the absolute eyesore of a tyre cover the angel had miracled onto the car after they’d been hit by that woman in Tadfield.

“Your tartan,” Crowley said carefully. “... You let me use it.”

Aziraphale said nothing, but the pink in his cheeks had spread to the tips of his ears.

“You were marking me as belonging to your… clan?” Crowley could feel his cheeks warming.

A matching flush. How perfectly wretched.

Aziraphale gave him a lopsided smile. “Something like that, I suppose. Our… team. Our group of the two of us.”

“Ah, so you were listening,” Crowley said uncomfortably.

Aziraphale blushed pink all the way up to his hairline.

With considerable effort, Crowley sat up properly. He shifted over, twisting his torso so that their bodies were in alignment, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh.

“Well.”

“Well,” repeated Aziraphale weakly.

“Well I’m sorry to have missed your demonstrations of affection delivered through the medium of tartan,” said Crowley with a wry grin.

The angel looked at him, embarrassed. “Yes, yes. Very funny.”

Crowley bumped him with his shoulder. “Maybe try something a bit more straightforward next time. Or at least work with something I actually understand."

There was a brief pause and then Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, his lips curling up at the corners. "Oh?"

"What, 'oh'? What does that mean?"

"I think I know what you understand," said Aziraphale, and the embarrassment was gone from his face. Crowley pulled back slightly, watching the angel carefully.

"What?"

His heart stuttered and took up an absolutely frenzied pace as Aziraphale leaned forward to take his face in his hands.

He eyed him suspiciously. "Are you about to kiss me?"

Aziraphale laughed and his eyes dropped to Crowley's lips, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Not just yet."

Crowley couldn't take his eyes off him. He felt like his heart might burst. Aziraphale was stroking his thumb softly against his skin.

"Anthony Just-a-J-Really Crowley, I'm in love with you," he said, and kissed his temple so gently Crowley had to swallow down a cry.

"I've loved you for a very long time," Aziraphale whispered against his ear. He kissed his forehead, and turned his thoughts into incoherent nonsense.

"A very, very long time," Aziraphale murmured against his other ear and nipped his earlobe, sending a jolt of undiluted desire straight up his spine.

"I'm sorry it took me such a long time to be honest with myself," he said, kissing the serpent by the hinge of his jaw. Crowley shuddered. He let out a harsh exhale as his eyes closed of their own volition.

"... And I'm sorry it took me such a long time to be honest with you," he said, kissing the corner of Crowley's mouth. He groaned and turned to kiss the angel, but Aziraphale pulled out of reach.

Crowley opened his eyes, dazed, to find Aziraphale looking at him with adoring eyes, a coy half-smile on his lips. He struggled to swallow, his throat tight with longing.

"I know you said I go too fast for you, angel," he rasped, "but this is painfully slow. Are you trying to discorporate me?"

Aziraphale frowned slightly, but he was still smiling. "I'm almost certain that's not possible."

"Let's not find out."

Aziraphale's laugh was muffled by Crowley's lips against his.

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ninjakk · 2 years

Text

I originally read Mo Dao Zu Shi without knowing it was a danmei - and I fell in love with them falling in love.

I've noticed some people saying that we only know WWX is gay/bi/demi/LanZhan-sexual at the beginning because we as the reader are aware it's a BL novel/manwha prior to reading it. Now, that might be true for most - but I have to say, it's actually not for me. I read the book because it came up as a supernatural mystery recommendation and it never actually stated it was a romance or danmei in the description that I read. So I was fortunate enough to read this with a totally unbiased view, and I actually feel quite lucky about it. I have since read it again (and again!) and each time I still notice something I might have missed the first time!

As I started reading it, the first scene that made me question WWX's feelings for LWJ is a scene I recently wrote about. It's a beautifully small moment when WWX could smell the sandalwood in LWJs room and it evoked emotions that came across as a subtle yearning with undertones of sadness. I will admit this peaked my interest and I carried on reading, with a sense that WWX might not be telling us everything about himself and his old acquaintance. Then we get to the cold spring scene where he is absolutely stunned at LWJs body and is in denial about it. At this point I knew he was at least physically attracted to men in some way. This is when I started to question if his 'playing the part of a cut-sleeve' was as big of a ruse as he was claiming it was!

Then we go onto the Cloud Recesses flashbacks of when they first met. Now obviously I had picked up on a few moments prior to this, so you could say I was now looking at the rest of the novel with expectations of his sexuality. Within seconds of reading the new chapter I noticed he was describing LWJ as pretty and handsome - a lot! He seemed to have quite a little crush on him in my eyes. But, and I guess this is quite funny as so many are the opposite way, I actually didn't pick up on LWJ's feelings for him as quickly! The fact WWX kept gravitating towards LWJ even though he was cold to him was so cute and I was hooked at what was going to happen next, and if I was right about WWXs feelings. It quickly became apparent to me that he had a little obsession with trying to make LWJ look at him!

My absolute favourite part of chapter 15 is this:

As he had expected, after a short while of sitting down, Wei WuXian repeated his past conduct again, giving Lan WangJi a piece of paper for him to see. Lan WangJi originally thought that it was going to be a mess of lame phrases again, but after a coincidental glimpse, he was surprised to find the drawing of a person, sitting upright and reading by the window, with a vividly realistic expression on his face. It was himself. Seeing that he didn’t avert his gaze at once, Wei WuXian curled his lips, and raised his eyebrow with a wink. No words were needed, since the meaning was plain to see — Does it look like you? Is it good?

Now I know shortly after that, WWX uses this as a distraction to swap the books around for porn! But, he didn't have to put so much effort into his drawing. To me it was actually a sweet act on his behalf. There's something deeply personal about someone gifting you a drawing they have done of your likeness. Especially as it looked vividly realistic, we can assume he definitely drew LWJ looking very beautiful, as this is how he seems him. It's actually quite a raw and vulnerable moment for someone to do this usually. WWXs cheeky flirty wink just made it perfect! Unfortunately WWX didn't get the reaction he was hoping for and continues to press LWJ's buttons to get a reaction out of him.

Lan WangJi slowly spoke, “You have spare time, yet you scribble instead of copy the text. In my opinion, the day of your release from this punishment will never come.” Wei WuXian blew on the ink which hadn’t dried yet and spoke nonchalantly, “I already finished copying, so I won’t be coming tomorrow!” Lan WangJi’s slender fingers seemed to have paused before flipping over the next yellow-tinted page. Surprisingly, Wei WuXian wasn’t silenced. As he didn’t provoke any reaction, Wei WuXian lightly threw the drawing, “It’s yours.”

This is the first scene where I actually thought LWJ might actually like WWX - but I wasn't sure if it was the same way I assumed WWX felt of course. The fact LWJs fingers paused briefly, told me he was a bit disappointed that WWX wouldn't be coming back to the library the next day.

The next scene, where WWX is eager to accompany LWJ and his brother to deal with the water ghouls is pretty cute as well. WWX is very keen to come along and LWJs brother lets us in on a secret - he can tell LWJ wants WWX to come as well. While they're dealing with the water ghouls, we get to see WWX 'flirting' with girls. So obviously this is a significant point for me, because I was starting to think he fancied LWJ.

Chapter 17

Wei WuXian assuredly threw a series of charming winks at both sides of the path, “Sisters, how much for half a kilogram of loquats?” His age was young, and his appearance was handsome. With such high spirits, it really was a scene of frivolous peach blossoms pursuing the running stream. One woman lifted her bamboo hat, smiling with her head raised, “Young beau, you needn’t pay. How ’bout I can give you one for free?” The Wu dialect was soft, sounding refreshing and sweet. The speaker’s lips moved melodiously, and the listener’s ears would be enveloped in fragrance. Wei WuXian cupped his hands together, “If it’s given to me by Sister, then I definitely want it!” The woman put her hand into the basket, and threw him a round, golden loquat, “You needn’t be such polite. It’s for how handsome you look!” The boats moved at a fast speed. As the two boats met, they immediately passed each other. Wei WuXian turned around, perfectly catching it, and grinned, “Sister looks even prettier!” As he showed off and flirted on the side, Lan WangJi was staring straight ahead, appearing quite virtuous. Wei WuXian smugly tossed the loquat in his hand, and suddenly pointed at him, “Sisters, do you think that he looks handsome?” Lan WangJi didn’t expect Wei WuXian to suddenly talk about him at all. Just as he was unsure of how to respond, the women on the river spoke in harmony, “Even more handsome!” Amid this, there seemed to be the laughter of a few men. Wei WuXian spoke, “Then, does anyone want to give him one? If you only give me and not him, I’m afraid he might be jealous when we go back!” Chirp-like laughter echoed through the whole river. Another woman came from in front of them, standing on her boat, “Okay, okay, you get two. Heads up, young beau, catch!” After the second one also landed in his hand, Wei WuXian shouted, “Sister, you’re not only pretty, but you’re nice as well. The next time I come here, I’m gonna buy a whole basket!” The woman’s voice was vibrant, and she was more daring than the other. She pointed at Lan WangJi, “Get him to come as well. You all can come here and get them!” Wei WuXian held the loquat in front of Lan WangJi’s eyes. Lan WangJi didn’t move his gaze, “Move.” And, so, Wei WuXian moved it away, “I knew that you definitely wouldn’t accept it, so I never intended to give it to you. Jiang Cheng, catch!”

When I originally read this chapter, I noticed quite a few things. WWX didn't describe the girls in any detail at all, he just wasn't interested in them in that way - all he wanted was some freebies! Then I noticed how he had to mention how good looking LWJ was yet again! It's quite obvious he got the second loquat for LWJ, but because like usual, LWJ acted cold and didn't accept it - he backtracked and said he never intended to give it to him anyway. Which was a lie, WWX is not unkind like that.

There are a few other parts that made me sure there was definitely something developing between them during WWXs time at the CR. When WWX and LWJ were in the cold spring, WWX kept gravitating towards him once again. He then complimented him and admitted how much he admires and respects him. LWJ seemed a little flustered by WWX being close to him without any clothes on, but he did actually talk to him a little bit - which is an improvement from before!

Chapter 18

Have you been to Yunmeng? Yunmeng is really fun. Yunmeng’s food is also good. I don’t know if it’s Gusu’s or the Cloud Recess’s problem, but the food in your sect are so bad. If you come to Lotus Pier, you can eat lots of delicious food. I can take you to pick lotus seed pods and water chestnuts. Lan Zhan, do you wanna come?” Lan WangJi, “No.” Wei WuXian, “Don’t answer everything with negative words. You sound so uncaring; girls won’t like it. Let me tell you—the girls in Yunmeng look very pretty, different from the sort of pretty in Gusu.” He winked his left eye at Lan in a proud way, “You sure you don’t wanna come?” Lan WangJi hesitated, but still replied, “No…”

The invitation to come and visit him is so sweet and could be taken in a platonic way. But I noticed that once the offer was dismissed by LWJ, he sounded very rejected and then went on to say 'girls won't like it', when in fact it is himself who doesn't like LWJ answering so negatively to him all the time.

Then there's the scene when WWX gifts him two rabbits. MXTX very clearly intended these two male rabbits to represent WWX and LWJ. With one being described as having emotionless eyes and very still - LWJ. The other, energetic and playful towards the quieter rabbit - WWX. Not long after we are introduced to WWX and LWJ of the bunny world... They hump. Yep... That's when I knew. These two were going to get it on like rampant rabbits. I mean, could you get anymore of a hint that they liked each other than literally having their rabbit counterparts spell it out to the reader! And even if you didn't take that as symbolic, the rest of the flirting and chemistry from previous chapters is enough to indicate to most there is something going on with these two hormonal teenagers.

Don't worry, I won't go through the whole book! But as you can see, I started to think there was some chemistry between them from very early on - even though I didn't know this book had any romance or was a danmei. In fact, this was the first danmei I ever read! I fell in love with them falling in love. No expectations, no judgement, just me reading a truly beautiful, yet unexpected love story unfolding within a brilliant supernatural mystery, with a dash of comedy. I was hooked.

#mdzs wwx #mdzs lwj #mdzs wei wuxian #mdzs lan wangji #mdzs novel #wangxian #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs meta #wwx and lwj are rampant rabbits #bunny wwx and lwj #hormonal wwx and lwj #no judgment no expectations just love

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maries-gallery · 8 months

Note

>:3

Tbh I really just want some snuggles lol not feeling the greatest so can Licht or Nokto take care of me till my head stops hurting? (Or both I will never say no to both)

(feel free to ignore but I saw your post and thought why not lol)

Ghoul! I'm so sorry to hear your head hurts like this :( I hope it gets better soon! I'd be so happy if this can bring you even the tiniest of comfort <3 Don't forget to get lots of sleep if you can! Sending you lots of love and all my best wishes!

genre: comfort, fluff

characters: Nokto and Licht Klein

warnings: none

moon banner by the lovely @/saradika

For more content like this, check the masterlist

"Is your head any better?' Nokto's voice rings in your ears and echoes in your head, way too loud for comfort.

You close your eyes, fingers pressing down in circular motions on your temples to try and soothe the radiating pain that spreads to the back of your neck and tickles at your simmering nausea.

You miss the concern that flashes through Nokto’s crimson gaze, his heart squeezing in his chest as you bury yourself deeper into your pillows. Guilt claws at the pit of his stomach.

“You asked her the same question five minutes ago, I don’t think things have gotten any better since then.” Licht’s words sound distorted through the pain, far away yet too close at the same time.

You can’t hold back an amused chuckle at Licht’s words, it’s true, Nokto had been asking you the same question with each visit.

“It’s okay, Nokto. It still hurts but the pain is much better now.” You flash him a comforting smile. The last thing you want is for him to feel bad about your current state.

As soon as they heard you had collapsed in the library from a thunderous headache, the both of them had come running to your bedroom, reaching your door at the same time and you like to imagine the surprise written on their features when they caught sight of one another.

A smile had touched your lips as they both crossed your door, touched by their apparent worry and the silver platter filled with sweets and medication held in Licht’s hands and the books and games held in Nokto’s.

“Take this, it’ll help.” Licht said, his neutral features betraying a vivid concern as he held out some round pills and a glass of water for you to take. You gladly took them, popping the medication in your mouth and gulping it down.

Your eyes traveled to the array of sweets he had brought, all resting on a pretty porcelain plate hand painted with intertwined roses and leaves and all mouth watering. A fraisier bright with fresh strawberries, a religieuse rich with chocolate icing and a dollop of cream, and a millefeuille generous in its crème pâtissière filled layers.

“Thank you” You whispered, “I really appreciate it.” A faint smile touched his lips, and your heart softened at the sight. The smile’s from Licht were rare, but all blinding in their earnestness and honesty.

Your eyes turned to Nokto, who had been silent until now, a grin etched on his features, one that didn’t serve to mask the gentle care in his eyes. “And what are those?”

“Those, little fox, are books. You’ve probably read them a hundred times already but can’t blame a guy for trying to cheer up a pretty girl.” He gave you a playful wink, and your insides fluttered at his affectionate nickname. Even with his flirty tendencies, Nokto’s love always shone through his actions.

“Oh?” You perked up, eyes scanning the leather bound tomes in his arms with professional scrutiny. You remembered seeing these in Chevalier’s library once, rare books from overseas and one of your favourites.

“We’ve got Midnight Cinderella, I think you called it? The Tale of the Rose knight and The Little Mermaid.” Nokto spread out the novels on your bed covers, revealing golden titles all familiar.

Your fingers traced upon the letters, warmth spreading in your chest as you pictured Nokto sneaking up in Chevalier’s private library to find books to your taste.

“Have you read any of these?” You asked him, eyes meeting crimson ones.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Nope. But I figured it might be time to discover them with you.”

“He wants to impress you.” Licht’s flat tone reached your ears, smooth and soft as a paved stone. A chuckle spilled from your lips at his words.

“I-”

“I think your ‘little fox’ might enjoy some silence.” The older brother continued, throwing his sibling a warning glance. And you wanted to laugh,but it hurt too much, so you just observed them with eyes filled with mirth and the sparkles of amusement.

After this the two of them had left your room, only to pop by at the same time thirty minutes later to ask about how you were. And the last two hours had been filled with these punctual visits, Licht here to make sure you take your meds correctly and eat the sweets, Nokto here to pop a joke and brighten your day with more and more books or games to pass the time.

And whilst your head still hurts, the pain has grown softer over the last hours, better with each visit the brothers paid to your chamber.

“Thank you for being here.” Your words are soft as they leave your lips, quiet and like a caress to their worried hearts. Your smile all they need to offer you one of their own.

“Well, shall we read now?”

taglist: @aquagirl1978 @randonauticrap @xbalayage @ikemen-writer @scorchieart @ikesimp100

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an-architect-of-words · 10 months

Text

My head is hurting after Secret History inner ramblings.

I think the one thing that’s difficult about this book is that EVERYTHING is a little true and a little false at the same time? It’s weird because sometimes I go to make a statement on something or post a thought, and I just can’t get the nuance right ever. All my opinions have a bit of a “but here’s where that thought ends” aspect to them. Here’s what I mean:

1. Henry and Camilla: I think someone kind of disliked something I said once when I said I was skeptical about Henry’s relationship with Camilla. And I tbh had strongly worded my thoughts. But here’s the deal. Henry, based on what we know of him, likely doesn’t have a good concept of love. And Camilla feels safe with Henry. Due to this, I think Henry views Camilla as something to protect. He sees her as aesthetic and wants to pursue her because he has clearly been taught by Julian and his own long history with many books and few human interactions that what’s important is what is ethereal and arcane and pretty. Camilla is going through a lot with Charles and she knows all the other guys are, in varying ways, terrified of Henry. Bunny was a jerk but his obsessive attitude toward Henry was indicative of his fear and his needing to know what Henry is up to, an attitude which makes increasing sense as the novel progresses. Richard has slips about Henry all the time but the most memorable to me is when he almost says “What if it’s Henry” instead of “What if it’s the cops?” when Charles knocks. Charles is so blatantly frightened of Henry and for good reason: Charles never seemed to want to kill Bunny, was was pulled into the murder (but it was still his choice), not taken seriously when he tried to lament Bunny, and then put into a situation where he had to just keep talking about it while minding his every word. Then there were strong indications Henry was trying to kill him. Camilla isn’t dumb. I’m sure she sees things that the guys see. She’s certainly disturbed when Henry made her douse herself in pig blood. But she allows Henry to have what he wants so she can be safe.

Now, I don’t even think Camilla is wrong to make this choice. In fact, Richard’s attitude towards her decision was uncalled for. That said, we now have a relationship built on a man who is buried in fanciful ideas about things and a woman who is fully aware of everything wrong with him and just goes with it because she’s scared. But it’s weird because saying that this relationship is entirely destructive isn’t perfectly true either. It’s true for the above reasons. But I also see Henry and Camilla do having some semblance of a positive relationship too. He does treat her kindly and, whatever the reason, he does help her when she’s struggling with Charles. We’ve seen signs of Henry looking out for Camilla throughout the whole book. And, you know what? We even get tiny indications that she really believes in some of his nonsense. But, by the end of the novel, I was so skeptical of anything Henry did and so wary of how emotionless he’d gotten that I couldn’t really believe he wouldn’t ever hurt her (my goodness, this guy could read some ancient myth arguing that some random, toxic action is somehow akin to love and he’d take it seriously). But bottom line is that this isn’t an easy thing for me to voice my opinion on without immediately disagreeing with my own wording.

2. Francis being untruthful about Charles. When I say Francis’s story about Charles isn’t correct, I mean that there are indications Francis is twisting facts. I’m saying it makes too much sense that he bore blame too, based on what we know of Francis. But what I’m not saying is that he spoke nothing but lies. This book is about illusions and things hidden in plain sight. Francis saying that Charles and Camilla being pretty makes it hard to see that they aren’t good does ring very true. It’s similar to Richard’s statement that he has a tendency to view interesting people as good (he says this about Julian). I do believe Francis when he says that Charles, even Camilla in a more subtle or different way, is jealous and manipulative— and the twins have been that way for a long time. We can pick that up ourselves throughout the novel. And he’s probably right that the bacchanal brought the worst of it to light. He definitely tries to tell Richard about something awful Charles did that night and can’t bring himself to.

That said, Francis is also clearly framed as being illusionary himself. He’s compared twice to a fox in this scene. His reason for why Charles won’t admit to having been with him is flimsy. It’s an odd understanding of Charles who won’t speak of his drinking when personal details aren’t involved. And alcohol was involved every time Francis and Charles hooked up (in the story about the first time it happened, when they left Richard’s room, and at the funeral). Francis even admits that was a driving factor in their relationship. At the Corcorans’, we also see Charles say Francis attempted to coerce him into something only for Francis to cut him off. So it’s just that, knowing alcohol was involved, knowing Francis has tried to take advantage of an inebriated Richard, and knowing that he’s trying to cover up truths… it just doesn’t give us a picture of a Francis who was entirely innocent in the matter and who didn’t at all take advantage of his friend.

A few things can exist at once because I think Francis’s big deal is being something of a doormat. He balks in the face of anything scary from doctor visits to certain social interactions; he goes along with others. He can be sharp-tongued and he does have strong desires, but he is often scared back into place. He clearly wants something with Richard (he goes for it twice) but won’t attempt to push when Richard is lucid. He asks permission, is denied, and accepts it (good!). But when Richard is vulnerable, Francis is more aggressive (fair point to Francis: this is not all the time. He’s seen Richard drunk and sleeping and been normal about it). Francis does get pushed back into place by Charles as well. Camilla states this when she tells Richard why she can’t move in with Francis rather than Henry. We also see Francis mock Richard’s speech patterns then immediately become really meek and apologetic when he sees that Richard is actually angry. And I’m kind of wondering if Francis knew all about Henry potentially setting up Richard and kept his mouth shut while Charles perhaps attempted to save Richard by taking him to the bar the night the police came. I say this because Charles says he knows Francis would betray him to Henry. And this moment seems more that just drunken rambles, based on Francis’s reaction. Francis’s suicide note even apologizes for NOT doing things. This fear does seem likely to cause him to merely take advantage of people when they’re vulnerable, to push until bitten back. (By the way, I think the alcohol he has during the funeral bathroom moment was purchased by Charles when he went out since it was in the glove compartment? The rest is vague but, to me, Francis is taking advantage of a weakness. To be honest, I like to think even Francis realized this. He payed Charles’s rehab bill. I think he knew that, in encouraging the drinking or, at least not stopping it, that he’d failed Charles— and Camilla who was directly affected.)

This is a lot of things. So I think me having moments of “OK FRANCIS WAS CLEARLY MANIPULATIVE HERE” is not the same as me saying he was totally wrong. Just like me saying he’s likely right about Charles is not me saying Charles wasn’t a vulnerable and mistreated party too.

3. Bunny being more morally aware than others. This one is the TRICKIEST. Because Bunny is really bad too. He’s such an awful friend. But my big-hard-to-capture-thought is that I do not believe Henry when he says Bunny’s reaction to the farmer-slaying was purely feelings of being left out. And I think Bunny was aware of and disturbed by the things going on in the group in a way the others largely weren’t. Richard says Bunny was a bloodhound for insecurities and that’s true. But I also got the sense that he was actually seeing his friends flaws and going, in some deep part of himself, “wait, this is really bad.” Julian mistakes Bunny’s behavior for a possible religious conversion. I think that’s very close— it was a moral crisis, I believe. But Julian is onto the same principle which doesn’t align with what Henry said (that it wasn’t at all moral). Furthermore, I think Henry (and Francis) was wrong about Bunny’s feelings of jealousy and hatred towards Richard. Again, this line between partially true and partially false is light because maybe Henry did note real feelings of inferiority (Bunny did harass Richard despite him not being at the bacchanal and there’s that mean moment where he tells Charles to give Richard a drink without washing the cup). But this is all thrown in to question with Bunny’s letter to Julian which doesn’t mention Richard at all. I just wonder if Bunny, despite all his rampant -isms and blatant mistreatment of his friends, was the first to wake up. And he was killed for it. Similarly, Charles starts to wake up in ways. He, in the midst of all his own crimes, was getting impacted by having helped take a life. And Henry’s reaction repeated itself; he went to silence this person who, within all his madness, was right about something. AND YET AGAIN. This is only true in some manners because Henry was also thinking of Camilla.

Revisiting my whole thesis: It’s like anything I could possibly say about this book has limits and other considerations. Many things are true to a point and false at a level. So I look back at every post I make and am like “well I still think I was right, but I wish I could shine a flashlight on every little detail and exception.” I just want to be fair about everything all the time!

#my legacy will be my TSH word vomits #geez I talk a lot #this was written for my own brain to stop spinning tbh #I love every character in this book #I hate every character in this book #I am filled with compassion #i am filled with utter disgust #the secret history #the secret history theory #richard papen #henry winter #bunny corcoran #camilla macaulay #francis abernathy #charles macaulay #julian morrow #Donna Tartt

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liightsout · 3 months

Text

the blue - part seven

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✯ summary: the boys come home from pre season testing. adam has some questions. mattie has some confessions ✯

✯ pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!oc ✯

✯ content warnings: tooth rotting fluff ✯

✯ now playing: slut! (taylor's version) - taylor swift ✯

✯ series masterlist ✯

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March 2021

Adam had been home for less than 12 hours before the questions had started.

“Who bought you flowers?” he had questioned as he dumped his bags next to the sofa. His finger pointing accusingly towards the bouquet of daisies proudly displayed on the coffee table.

Mattie had given a stumbled excuse about how she had bought them for herself.

Adam didn’t believe her, she knew he didn’t.

The next question came in the evening as they sat across from each other at their favourite restaurant. He had been telling her all about how well the pre-season testing had gone. Everyone was impressed by the MCL35M and how well it had performed, as well as Danny, who had also impressed the masses during testing.

“Speaking of Danny, you guys seem close?” Adam spoke through mouthfuls of food, as he continued eating the lasagne in front of him. Mattie looked up from her bowl of pasta and stared at her friend across the table. Adam continued “he’s a pretty cool guy, really funny actually, I could see how someone could develop a bit of a crush on him” he spoke nonchalantly.

Mattie’s eyes locked with Adam’s. She wished he didn’t know her so well. She didn’t think she’d been that obvious. She only asked about him a few times over text while they’d all been in Bahrain. She’d only asked how everyone was getting on, and if Danny was fitting in well with the team. It seemed like a silly thing to ask really, Danny appeared to fit in everywhere he went.

“Yeah we’re friends I guess, we met that night he slept on the sofa, didn’t we? And then again at the pub before you guys went away. We follow each other on Insta and have spoken a little bit here and there… I guess I maybe have a little crush on him. It’s nothing serious though, like, he’s Daniel Ricciardo, I’m happy he even wants to be my friend” Mattie rambled.

She had a tendency to ramble when she was nervous. She didn’t want Adam to be annoyed at her. She knew it would be weird for him if she suddenly started crushing over one of his friends, who also happened to be a coworker. It’s not as if he had anything to worry about regardless, there was no way her crush was reciprocated. Daniel could have anyone he wanted. She knew she’d never be on that list.

Adam had a smug look on his face as he watched his friends' nervous attempts at explaining herself. “Mattie it’s okay, honestly, I don’t care” he spoke softly to his friend, sensing her unease. “But I do have to say, I thought you were meant to be the smart one here? Danny’s clearly head over heels for you, it’s pretty disgusting to be honest, he’s smitten” he said, a grin spreading over his face.

“Did he tell you that?” the words came out of her mouth before she had a chance to catch them. She hoped the low lighting in the restaurant would hide the redness creeping upward from her neck to her cheeks.

Adam barked out a laugh “he didn’t have too! It’s so obvious Mattie! Don’t tell me you don’t see it? His comments on your Insta posts? And I know he’s the one that got you those flowers!”

Mattie sighed at her friend's explanation. Danny was just being nice. Adam just assumed any male that paid her any attention fancied her. They’d been down this road many times before.

“If that’s true you must fancy me too, you do all those things for me as well!” Mattie rebuffed. Adam’s face recoiled as he jokingly pretended to gag “urm, Mattie’s that’s disgusting you’re basically my sister.”

Adam looked at his best friend sitting in front of him. She’d read a thousand romance novels and she was still clueless.

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Mattie and Danny’s communication had slowed to a few messages here and there since he had returned from Bahrain. She would hear nothing for a day or so, and then would send her a screenshot of a song he thought she might like. She always added it to her playlist straight away. In turn, she would send him selfies when she was bored of work and needed a distraction. He would reply and tell her she was cute.

It was the night before the boys were due to be flying out to Bahrain for the first race weekend. Adam had gone to bed hours ago, stating that he needed to be fully refreshed and ready for the days ahead. Mattie found herself curled up in bed watching reruns of The Office when she felt her phone vibrate. She looked down at the screen.

Daniel Ricciardo is calling you - accept / decline

Without hesitation Mattie slid her finger across the screen and put her phone up to her ear.

“Hey Mattie girl! I didn’t wake ya did I? I just realised it’s like 11PM” the Aussie’s voice rang out from her phone and echoed around her bedroom.

“Hi Danny, no it’s ok, I was awake actually” she spoke into the microphone softly, not wanting to be too loud and wake Adam who was sleeping in the room next door.

“Ah fantastic, that means you can join me for my walk, be quick, I’m outside your building and if I loiter for much longer one of your neighbours is gonna call the cops on me” Danny joked.

Mattie got up from her bed and walked over to the window that overlooked the street below. He was telling the truth, she could see him standing by the steps leading up to her building’s front door.

“A walk? Are you mental?” Mattie said laughing at the Australian who had now spotted her in her window and was waving up at her with a grin on his face.

“Only a little bit. Come on, come down, I leave tomorrow and I wanted to see you before I go” Danny spoke, the joking tone to his voice was long gone, replaced with a much softer one.

“I”ll come down, just give me a minute to get changed,” Mattie said, ending the call. She looked around her room and decided her clothing options were limited. She wanted to look cute, but she also knew that it was early March in London and it was cold outside. She was going to have to pick warmth over style.

She settled on a pair of thick black leggings, a large Mclaren hoodie that definitely belonged to Adam, her black puffa jacket, warm fuzzy socks and a pair of Converse. She checked her face, she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she realised she didn’t have time to change that.

She grabbed her phone and keys and tiptoed out of the flat. Her brain was running a million miles a minute. Her body felt like it had been electrified. She hadn’t realised how badly she’d wanted to see Danny again, or how excited she would be when it finally did happen.

Stepping out into the cold night air she felt a shiver run up her spine. She wasn’t sure why she had bothered to layer up to keep out the cold. The adrenaline running through her veins was doing a good job of keeping her warm.

Danny stood at the bottom of the steps, as soon as he saw her his arms extended outward, signalling for her to step closer so that he could hug her. Mattie walked down the steps and into the arms of the Aussie.

It was at that moment Mattie decided she would do whatever she could to stay in the arms of Daniel Ricciardo.

His arms wrapped around her smaller frame and pulled her close against his chest. His hands immediately found a home for themselves. One of them carefully touched the small of her back where her hoodie and jacket had lifted, a slither of skin exposed, due to her arms stretching up to wrap around his neck. His fingertips sending electric shocks through her skin. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, a perfect fit.

Begrudgingly the pair pulled away from one another and started on their walk. Danny pointed to a small bench that wasn’t too far away from them and under some street lights, so that they weren’t completely in the dark.

Mattie sat down on the wooden bench, with Danny placing himself to her right, just close enough that their knees were almost touching. Mattie longed for him to be just a few inches closer.

“Are you excited for the first race?” Mattie asked, carefully angling her body so that she could look at his face. She watched as Danny’s eyes lit up with excitement and the smile she had grown far too used to appeared on his face.

“Fuck yes, I’m so ready to get out there and go. I’ve got a good feeling about it.” Danny answered confidently. “Are you going to be watching?” Danny asked the girl. For the first time since she had met him he seemed nervous, patiently waiting for her response.

“Of course I will be, I watch every race” she answered without hesitation. “I’d never hear the end of it if I missed one” she added.

“Oh so you’re just watching because Adam will be annoyed if you don’t?” the Aussie teased his knee playfully pushing into hers.

With a roll of her eyes Mattie replied “I guess I might have other reasons to watch.”

Her voice was quiet and nervous. Danny looked at her expectantly, urging her to elaborate further.

“Ugh, are you going to make me say it?” Danny looked at her, nodding his head up and down cheekily. “Fine, I will also be watching to see you race” the girl responded. A small smile on her face as she watched the Aussie smirk at her response, clearly proud of himself for her admission.

“Mattie, I think you might be obsessed with me. First you’re stalking my Instagram, and now this? Should I be concerned?” Danny taunted as he subtly moved himself an inch closer to the girl next to him, their knees now touching completely.

Mattie found herself lost for words. She often felt that way around Danny. She wanted to be brave enough to counter his witty remarks, but instead she found herself dumbfounded and blushing like a teenager.

“All jokes aside, it does actually mean a lot to me that you’re watching, even if it is just because you don’t want to be shouted at by Adam” Danny said as he placed his hand on the girl's thigh and gently squeezed.

Mattie felt her heart misfire. Was he doing this on purpose? Could he tell that she was having trouble breathing?

She looked down at the hand now covering her thigh. She didn’t consider herself small, but the way his hand looked as if it covered half of her thigh made her feel tiny. The way Danny made her feel was anything but.

“It’s definitely not just because I don’t want to be shouted at by Adam” Mattie clarified easily.

The pair sat and spoke for a while longer. Danny had removed his hand from the girl's thigh and placed his arm along the back of the bench, pulling her to his chest. She could feel him softly toying with the ends of her hair. He told her he was helping her keep warm. Mattie didn’t want to tell him that she didn’t feel cold at all.

It was around an hour later that Danny had stood up and offered his hand to Mattie, helping the girl stand up from the bench. Mattie had assumed once she was standing he would release her hand. He didn’t. The pair walked back to her flat hand in hand, fingers intertwined.

Once they arrived at the steps leading up to her front door, Danny let go of her hand and she turned to face him.

“Good luck for the race” Mattie softly spoke to the Aussie. He nodded, wordlessly thanking her.

“Don’t forget me while I’m gone?” Danny asked, a cheeky grin on his face as the pair embraced for a final time. The hug lasted much longer than the one they had shared earlier in the evening. Mattie took the time to memorise the exact feeling of Danny’s breath on her neck and the way she could feel his heart beating in his chest.

As they pulled away from one another Mattie huffed out a laugh, “as if I could ever forget you Danny Ric”.

“Ditto sweetheart” Danny whispered as he watched the girl ascend the stairs to her front door.

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✯ authors note: i fully lied to you all and said there wouldn't be any updates today, and now look! a 2.1k word update!

next chapter will probs be a social media one again while the boys are away at a race, and then there'll be a couple more chapters before a bit of a time jump i think? don't quote me on that, i'm still planning future chapters lol. ✯

#daniel ricciardo #dr3 #danny ric #daniel ricciardo fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #f1 fanfic #dr3 imagine #formula 1 #daniel ricciardo fluff #f1 fic #daniel ricciardo imagine #redbull racing #formula 1 fanfic

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