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#I can just never seem to find the right words to properly express what I want to say
danibee33 · 20 hours
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The Queen’s Guard- Chapter 7: Trust
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knight!simon riley x queen!reader
cw: dark themes, *pls read at your own discretion*
word count: 3.8k (everything in italics is a flashback)
[<<<< chapter 6]
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You still feel the faintest tremble in your fingers, your cheeks ruddy from the cold night air that breezes over your skin and through your hair. The world seems so bright, even in the darkness- like you could see every wonderful, beautiful thing in a way you simply couldn’t before. Like you were lighter than the winds, and higher than the sky. You feel like you could be flying.
And if you had known just how good being dead feels, you certainly wouldn’t have waited so long-
+++
“What?!”
Simon places a finger over his lips, silently shushing you; and you know better, immediately regretting the outburst, no matter the shock that lingers in your system, discretion was still paramount—
Your clandestine meetings had been growing more frequent; waiting for the moment he would be relieved for the night and your handmaids had flitted away to their own rooms, their own lives- so that you could slip behind the heavy wool tapestry that now hangs over the entrance to the tunnels.
You always meet in the same spot, making your way to the small adjoined alcove where you would find him waiting- either toying with his daggers or simply staring ahead, lost in thoughts you so desperately wished to hear until he heard your muffled footsteps, the sound of fabric rustling, that alerted him to your presence.
He would usually still be in his armor, his helmet sat carefully to the side- but this night, well, you couldn’t help but to admire the way he looks for a bit longer than you’re proud of.
Instead of black steel, he was covered in warm linens and rich leathers, still dark in nature, with a riding cloak over his shoulders and most of his face concealed under a heavy cowl. But when he saw you, you could see how his whole demeanor shifted. You watched his shoulders relax and the tension bleed away from his expression- watched his eyes flicker and glow in the candle light as he reached out for you, pulling you into his arms just as he did nearly every night now-
But, you weren’t in his arms anymore, no, you were pacing fervently- one hand propped on your hip and the other tangled in your hair,
“Simon, are you sure? I mean- this- this is ludicrous-”, your voice is quiet again, but each word feels labored and breathless, your lungs unable to fill themselves properly, “What you’re suggesting-”
Tentatively, he steps forward, capturing your arm easily, your name spoken so softly, in a way that conveys patience and gentility while still demanding your attention, “Breathe, My Queen.. C’mere-”
He wraps you into a tight hug, letting you bury your face in his tunic, and gods- the way his scent fills your senses, his overwhelming heat, the mass of his arms caging you in, protecting you from yourself. And when he speaks again, you lean in even more just to feel the baritone reverberate through is chest and right into yours,
“There is no other way.” Simon starts, “None that would assure that they’ll never come searchin’ for you.”
The moment he feels your breathing settle to an acceptable rate, he steps back, but only far enough to frame your face in his hands- those damned eyes prying you open; not in a destructive way, no, but in a way that reassures you, that tells you he can see your trepidation, your apprehension. A look that tells you he only wishes to open you up so that he might take them all away, let your burdens rest on his shoulders-
“Do you trust me?”
Your answer comes without pause, because it’s not one you have to give a second thought to as you turn to kiss the inside of his palm, your lips brushing against the rough skin, “Of course.”
And there must be something about the conviction in your voice, or the sincerity beaming in your eyes, because Simon sweeps you into a burning kiss so suddenly, your mind has to catch up to your body as you pull yourself closer to him- enjoying how exposed the feel of his torso is to you in these thinner layers. You swear you can feel the delicious bulk of his muscle flexing against you, your hands venturing over the breadth of his chest, reveling in how it heaves with each breath.
“I want you..” You whine into his mouth, your back now pressed into the frigid stone wall, one of his hands still tenderly cupping your jaw as the other holds your waist.
Most every meeting you have with him of late devolves into this; into feverish kisses and eager touches, you know he craves you just as much you hunger for him- more than that, you yearned for him. But, no matter what you do, or how far it goes, his self-control and willpower seem to far surpass your own, and it always ends with him holding you still- pressing sweet kisses against your forehead and your hair, his voice so kind and soft that it could bring tears to your eyes,
“I know, sweet girl..” He whispers, still kissing you, though you feel his hands tensing- ready to put a halt to it if he feels even the slightest slip in his control, “You already have me- m’yours. Only yours. But not like this-”
This time when you whimper out his name, fighting vainly to push his hand lower, your aching core so desperate for his touch, he groans; it’s a low, gravelly noise, his lips pulling up into something resembling a snarl just before you watch his head roll back.
He pulls in a deep, drawn out breath, inhaling through his nose and exhaling just the same- once, and twice. And you realize now, just how close he had let himself get to breaking his own self-enforced oath if he was having to fight it this hard.
Taking one more deep breath, he finally meets your eyes again, moving slowly and cautiously to tuck a stray bit of hair behind your ear. You let him fawn over you for a moment, your head tilted back to rest against the wall and your own gaze nearly as dark as his,
“No. You deserve more than this, love..”, he traces your bottom lip, eyes focused on the plump, pink skin there before flitting up, “When I have you, I don’t want it to be in some dark, musty tunnel.”, he pauses again, tilting his head to the side, “And I won’t have our first time be tainted by the memory of another man’s bed-”
Your breath shudders when Simon leans in again, nuzzling gently against your cheek- the tip of his nose grazing over the flush peak before he plants a kiss in the same spot, speaking again as he repeats the motion,
“No, little queen.. I want to take my time with you. I want to taste every part of you, starting here-”, a sharp gasp fills the void around you at the sensation of his tongue just above your pulse point, still hot and wet when he kisses it with a smirk on his lips, “and here..”
He gently pushes your hair out of the way, exposing your shoulder so that he could mirror the action there as well, drawing yet another breathy little whine from you,
“Stop it, you insufferable brute..” You speak the words through clenched teeth, and yet, your hands pushing down on his shoulders give an entirely different story- but he does stop, standing again to tower over you, completely unfazed by the daggers in your eyes.
And the cocky grin on his lips turns into something much warmer, his eyes not so ravenous anymore, “Believe me,” he savors your name, letting it sit in the air between you before continuing, “when I say I intend to replace every memory of him, or anyone else, I mean it. I want to show you what it’s supposed to feel like, in every way.”
+++
You pull back on the reins to come to a stop at Simon’s side. The horses’ breaths are hard and fast, much like your own, a cloudy mist of hot air dissipating as fast as it comes with each heavy snort. The castle is far below you now, just a speck in the distance, the valley it’s settled in perfectly illuminated under the dazzling full moon,
“Still think we have ‘til mornin’?” Johnny’s voice breaks the silence, his red stallion giving a tired chuff as it hooves at the cold dirt below.
Simon turns back to answer with a shrug- though his eyes land on you first, searching for your nod of approval before glancing to where the Scot waits, “Should. But, we won’t stop yet, the horses can go for a bit longer-”
You dig your heel in just enough to prompt your mare forward. The dark beast is familiar to you- chosen because she’s one of the fastest the king owns, owned, and it shows as you quickly catch up to Simon, taking your place just on his right flank, with Johnny bringing up the rear.
The plan was to ride as far as the horses could go, hopefully putting you outside of the borders of the kingdom before the alarm is raised, before whatever poor soul unwittingly discovers your treacherous crimes-
No.. don’t think like that. It had to be done.
Against the wind, you focus on Simon’s hulking form before turning your head long enough to catch Johnny’s eye. And you hate how sad he still looks, hate the grim set of his lips, and the consistent knit in his brow- there’s been no bright smiles this time, no boisterous banter, or snarky quips. He was still angry with you, and yet, he couldn’t stop watching you like you might vanish if he blinked too long.
But, you don’t blame him. How could you-
+++
Tap-tap … Tap-tap-tap
The world comes into focus again at the sound of your guard’s beckoning- you’re back in the Grand Hall, sitting on the throne, the weight of your crown perched on your head pulls uncomfortably at your scalp as the man in front of you rambles on and on. Something about the year’s bountiful harvest, and you can’t be sure what else, but gods, his voice feels like it grating against your eardrums.
You just can’t be bothered to focus on such trivial things, not when your mind wanders to the promise Simon had made to you- to take you away, to save you. Though, you suppose he’s already saved you in so many ways, more than you could ever make up to him, but you swear to yourself that’ll spend the rest of your life trying-
Hiding the exasperation in your tone, you raise your hand, “Very well, Lord Barclay. Thank you, for your time, and your very thorough survey.”
Simon’s arm is placed under your hand before you’ve even attempted to stand, it’s not an unusual or uncomely gesture, he had done it many times before, but holding onto to him like this now feels too intimate. Because you know how warm his skin is beneath yours, how firm the muscle is under the cold steel and unforgiving leather of his gauntlet-
“Thank you, Ser.” You say evenly, only sparing the most fleeting glance upward to find his eyes already on you.
It sends a shock through your system, and yet, there’s an odd sense of pride that trickles through you as well. Knowing your deception, knowing you can hold him as such, and he can look at you like that, with those around you none the wiser of your indecencies, your unbecoming thoughts-
And it’s only a matter of seconds, from the moment your fingers are settled over his forearm to the time you’re standing, but it’s enough to reignite the ever present burn you feel for him,
“‘Course, My Queen.” Simon bows his head as customary, but just like the first time you met, he doesn’t avert his eyes, and his coy expression does nothing but stoke the flame within you. But, you have a sneaking suspicion that he knows exactly what he’s doing, and that he quite enjoys playing with fire.
—--
By the time you get back to your rooms, the sun had nearly set, the once brightly lit hallways now glowed warmly with candlelight and the remnants of dusk as you stop outside your door.
Simon opens it for you, ushering you inside before relieving the other guard. He would be there all night tonight, which meant you wouldn’t see him until morning- and while the thought of him still being close, guarding your rooms, is comforting as it always has been; you already find yourself missing his touch, his warmth, and it had only been a week’s time since you got your first taste-
Gods, you’re hopeless. And never have you felt more like a spoiled brat than you do in this moment, giving Simon one last pitiful look before the heavy door clicks shut.
The candles in your entryway were already lit, but you find it odd when you round the corner to see your bedchamber still dark, save for the milky light filtering through the windows. Which is the only reason you see the odd shadow hunched over on your dressing bench, and a strangled sort of gasp lodges itself in your throat when it moves- slowly, at first, lifting its head to face the dim light.
“Johnny?”
You turn to grab the nearest candle stick, not registering how the hot wax splashes onto your hand as you set it down again. But, now that you have it, you’re not sure the light helps or only makes it worse, because now you can see just how disheveled he is- his hair is a mess, from the wind or from him running his hand through it, you don’t know. And his eyes.. he’s looking back at you with a wild gleam, his lips parting as if he might say something before they clamp shut again. The ties on his tunic are loose, the fabric hanging open, exposing the tan skin underneath and small chain hanging around his neck-
“Johnny- I.. What are you doing here?” You step closer, seeing the familiar paper in his hand, his fingers creating wrinkles and indentations from how hard he grips it, like he’s afraid to let go of it, but it almost seems to pain him at the same time.
And you know exactly what it is. It’s your letter, the one you wrote to confess your intentions, your plan to die. A morbid living will-
“Oh, Johnny.. I’m- I sent a raven-”
“Shut up.” He growls, and it stuns you, hearing the anger in his voice directed at you. He moves to stand then, not to get any closer- but to just look at you. Eyes lingering on your crown, and over your face, searching for something you can’t see or understand as he takes a small step forward, his mouth twisted into a thin line and his throat bobbing.
Seeing him like this is unlike anything you’ve felt, you think. Seeing your immutable Johnny on the verge of tears, his usually bright eyes, dark and stormy- your chest feels like it’s cracking open the longer the silence fills the space, until your own tears spill over, staining the rug in perfect little droplets. But what can you say?
‘Oh, I’m sorry you thought I was dead- but surprise! I’m not.’?
What could you possibly say to make it better-
“How dare you..” When he finally speaks, you hear the syrupy rasp in his voice, one tear rolling down his cheek- and then another, tangling in his unkempt facial hair, “You selfish, stupid girl! Why would ye write this? Huh?”
He doesn’t shout, but you can tell it’s taking everything in him not to- the restraint shows in the red flush of his skin and the rigid set in his shoulders, the rage in his eyes as he looks down at you before shoving the letter into your hands. Your own tears haven’t stopped, and you feel frozen in place, wracked with guilt and anguish and frustration,
“I’m sorr-”
Johnny huffs out a sarcastic laugh cutting you off, running a hand through his hair, pulling at the roots,
“I thought you were dead.. DEAD, Sunny. And you’re sorry? That’s all you got?”
It’s the way he waves his hand at you that causes you to flinch, and that terrible frustration blooms into full blown anger when he turns his back on you. You crumple the paper in your hand, forming it into a deformed sort of ball so that you could chuck it as hard as you can, aiming right for the back of his head,
“Selfish? I’m selfish?” You hiss, watching with satisfaction as the paper ball hits its target, bouncing off his head and rolling somewhere you can’t see, “My whole life has been serving others- and I’m the one who’s selfish? How rich coming from you, MacTavish.”
He turns on his heel, a look of heated confusion on his face, “What’s tha’ s’pose to mean? Like I haven’t served? Who do y’think is out there fightin’ your wars, your highness?”
With a short scoff, you turn away from- wiping the moisture from your face and yanking the crown from your head so you can toss it on the bed, “Oh, enough of that! What happened to ‘not a lord or a queen’? Are we not just us, anymore? Is that all you see?”, you gesture back to the crown, “Because that’s not me- that isn’t all I am-”
Just as quickly as it had come, your anger fizzles out, the flashfire smothered with a sadness so deep, so profound, you’re not sure what do with it,
“I was tired, Johnny. Weary, down to my marrow-”, a broken sob tumbles out as you wrap your arms around yourself in a lame attempt to find comfort, “I never meant for it to be selfish, I only thought I was doing a favor. For myself, for you. I can’t explain it..”
You watch his own flame die out with your words, watch the furious glint in his eyes settle- and when he steps forward, you don’t try to stop him, you don’t stop him when he pulls you into his arms, or when he presses a long kiss to the top of your head,
“I know, I know- I’m so sorry.. I dinnae mean a word of it, I know you’re not selfish. Hells, you’re probably the most selfless person I’ve ever known. But, Sunny..”, he pulls your face up, wiping the tears and mucus away, looking down at you with a softness you weren’t expecting, his big hands cupping your cheeks and jaw, “When I- When I thought you were..”
He bites his lip, breathing through the word on his tongue- not wanting to say it out loud anymore than he already had, “I thought I lost you..”
It comes out in a whisper, his eyes, still brimmed with tears, so steady on yours it makes your breath shorten- because he had never looked at you like that, and you had never seen him the way you see him now, had never given a thought to the idea of wanting him to hold you like he is now, wanting him to look at you-
No, no- he’s Johnny. Just Johnny.. Your best friend, you had grown up together, seen every stage of each other- from kids to scrawny pre-teens, awkward teenagers at best, you had both seen the other at their worst. So, why are you so surprised to look at him now, and see how handsome he’s become, how tall he’s gotten, and how well he fills out his clothes-
Stop, just stop- you admonish your own thoughts, he’s still just Johnny.. He’s not Simon.
“I know..”, you say, blinking away the tears and wrapping your hands around his wrists, “But, never again. I promise, Johnny.”
That seems to break his hypnosis, focusing on your words, on the feel of your skin on his- he shakes his head, releasing you gently and clearing his throat, the tension that had been there only moments ago gone dormant, “What changed?”
You glance over your shoulder, looking towards the entryway, wishing you could see Simon for just a second, “Well.. we’re hoping you can help with something.”
“We?”
+++
Simon’s path takes you deep through the forests, and as soon as you reach the river, you follow its meandering trail for the better part of the night- guided by the moon and stars, your trio traverses land that you had never seen, much less touched. And you only wish for a chance to see it in the sun, hear the birds singing, and the breeze rustling through the boughs; watch the water babble and flow, glittering in the sunlight.
But, there is something otherworldly about experiencing it at night. You hadn’t been outside the castle walls after dark, ever, now that you think about it- never mind on horseback.
And never mind the fact that you’re doing it to run away from your life, your identity left behind.. everything you’ve ever known..
So, why aren’t you afraid? Why have you never felt more content, more safe, than you do right now? Through the soreness and discomfort, the adrenaline still teeming in your mind and body, all it takes to settle your thoughts is meeting Simon’s gaze- still so steadfast and assured.
Or feeling Johnny’s calming presence next to you, warm enough to cut through the chill. Even if things aren’t as natural between you as they used to be, you know you could still lean on each other, that he would be there for you, and you for him.
But there’s something about the odd tension that still lingers when he looks at you, like invisible tendrils that bind you, pulling and stretching. But you don’t understand it, you only feel the strain, like a warning or an omen, something threatening to snap. But it won’t just yet.. not now-
Simon comes to a slow stop, you and Johnny following his lead up the high ridge. And faintly, you hear the crashing of waves, the wind picking up wildly as you break the treeline.
The cliffs, ones you had only seen as a child, glow brilliantly in the sunrise. It’s enough to steal your breath, and make your head spin. They had brought you home.
You’re so entranced by the glorious sight in front of you, by the sting of your hair whipping across your chapped cheeks, that the feel of Simon’s hand on your leg almost startles you,
“We’ll stop here for the day.. eat and rest.”
He lifts you from the saddle, keeping his hands stretched over your waist until he’s sure you're steady on your feet, “Are you all right, my queen?”
Johnny watches from your peripheral, meeting your eye for a split second before you answer, a tired smile on your lips,
“I’m not your queen anymore, Simon..”
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[chapter 8>>>>]
taglist: @spxctorsslxt @ssc7514
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kindlythevoid · 8 months
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I have read Fellowship of the Ring more times than I have cared to keep count and every time I read Boromir’s, well, possession for lack of a better word, I have read it in fear, in discomfort, in horror, indifferently.
This was, I think, the first time I read it in pity. I looked at all the plans Boromir was making, how he would save his beloved city, how obstinate he was in his belief that the men of Minas Tirith would not be corrupted when wielding the Ring against Sauron —and I felt sad. He’s waving his hands and hollering and part of him is desperate just for the Ring, of course he is, he’s been traveling beside it with no hope for months, but he’s also desperate for hope. He’s desperate for a chance to save his people, save his brother, save his city.
Moreover, every time he calls out the Elves or the Wizards, you have to remember that he doesn’t know them. All he knows is that he traveled almost a full year to get their advice and they send him on, in his eyes, a hopeless venture. The one hope they give him is Aragorn, who promises to return and help save Minas Tirith with him, but even that all changes once Gandalf dies. They come to Lothlorien and of course it’s a welcome break, but they cannot, or maybe in Boromir’s eyes will not, help his people. And once they leave, Aragorn assumes his role as leader of the Fellowship in Gandalf’s stead more permanently and suddenly even that one, brief, uncertain hope of his is gone. Aragorn will follow Frodo. And it’s almost certain that Frodo will not go to Minas Tirith.
So is it any wonder, really, that tired, desperate, hopeless Boromir, out of his realm, out of his depth, already hanging by a thread when he joins the Fellowship and having been gnawed on by the Ring for months upon months afterwards, finally snaps once it’s clear that he will have to return home empty-handed and almost certain that somewhere far away Sauron is capturing the Ring and killing the companions that he had bonded with? Of course part of the Ring is making him lust for power, but it’s also his only “reliable” (in his mind) source of hope left to save his city.
And so I read Boromir’s (intelligent and thought out, mind you) raving and I don’t feel scared for Frodo, not after reading it so many times and knowing what ultimately happens, but sorrow for Boromir.
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mistiell · 1 year
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I'm Starvin', Darlin'
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Summary: Spencer realizes how touch starved he is when you, the newest member of the BAU, develop a habit of casually touching him throughout the day.
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Fluff, mutual pining, bit of a misunderstanding towards the end, this hasn't been proofread so I might come back to correct some things later
A/N: So, I have been like, completely MIA for the passed few months, and I apologize for that. Life has been hectic and I haven't had any motivation. However, I'm back now! At least for a little while. This is my first fic for Spencer but I hope to write more for him in the future. There'l definitely be a part two to this sometime in the future, so look out for that.
Part 2
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Spencer has never been one for physical affection.
Logically he knows that he needs a certain amount of it to survive, and he doesn’t particularly mind it anymore when Morgan claps him on the back or when he has to shake somebody’s hand. But when he’s pulled in for a hug, there’s this weird sort of anxiety that makes him worry about whether or not he’s holding on too tight or how long he can stay there without making it awkward. He’ll endure it if he thinks a hug would be the best way to comfort someone, but typically, he avoids them altogether.
That was, until you came along.
It was sunny out, and for the first time in a while, the blinds in the bullpen were pulled open to let the sun shine in. Spencer was sitting at his desk, flipping through his mound of paperwork when JJ had led you over to your new desk, right across from his. JJ had caught his attention to introduce you, but the moment he laid eyes on you, whatever she was saying went in one ear and out the other
You had to be the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his entire life. 
“Spence.” JJ’s voice snapped him back into reality and he was suddenly acutely aware of how long he’d been staring.
“Hm?” You’d giggled at his dumbstruck expression and he swore he’d do anything to make you laugh like that again.
JJ stared at him expectantly for a few seconds before rolling her eyes and gesturing to you again, “I said, this is Agent L/n. She’s our newest member.”
“Oh, right, um, I’m Sp-Spencer Reid. Er– Doctor Spencer Reid.” He was halfway through mentally berating himself when you smiled oh so kindly at him, extending your hand.
“Y/n L/n. It’s nice to meet you, doctor.”
“Oh, um, you can just call me Reid.” 
“Right.” You very obviously looked him up and down in a way that made his heart race, “Reid.”
And then you sat down at your desk.
And he had to sit there and pretend he wasn’t utterly and entirely flustered by that tiny, microscopic interaction.
He came to realize about a month into your friendship that you were a touchy person by nature. You’d touch his arm when he made you laugh and sometimes you’d squeeze his shoulder before you sat down next to him at the round table. Six months into your career there and you’d gotten comfortable enough that you’d hug most of them when you showed up for drinks outside of work and playfully pinch Morgan’s arm or side when he got a little too brazen with his flirting. Sometimes you’d bump Spencer’s shoulder to tease him. It took a few times to get used to it, but eventually he started bumping you back.
Actually, he found that the more you touched him, the less he seemed to dislike it. In fact, he finds himself waiting for those casual displays of affection. Every time your skin meets his, he feels warm, revitalized. 
Which is why on one particularly late night, when he’s utterly exhausted and the two of you are the only ones in the office, he feels comfortable enough to do what he’s about to do.
He thinks about it for a long while, never one to do anything like this without properly thinking it through. He’s just so tired and this case was so draining that, as pathetic as he thinks it is, he finds himself wanting to ask for a hug.
He won’t. He’s not that confident yet. But he thinks that maybe there’s another way to get away with touching you in some capacity.
So he rolls his chair over to your desk, attempting to casually plop down next to you so his side is practically pressed against yours. To his surprise, it actually works, though his casual “plop” is more like a rather awkward “slip-and-almost-accidentally-knock-you-over”. But you don’t mind. Instead, you laugh and bump his shoulder a lot more gently than he bumped you.
“Watch it, clumsy.”
“Sorry.” He chuckles, awkwardly clearing his throat, “What are you working on?”
“The mountain of paperwork that’s been accumulating since I got here.” You huff a short, embarrassed puff of laughter as you glance down at a notepad he hadn’t noticed, “That, and doodling.”
“Doodling what?” He asks, though he wonders how much he’s actually going to be able to pay attention when he’s so focused on how warm your thigh and shoulder feel against his.
“Oh, um,” Is he crazy or are you blushing? “It’s embarrassing.”
“I won’t judge.” After a split second of deliberation, he gently shifts his weight into his shoulder to nudge you just a little.
“Promise?” You smile shyly and he can’t help but smile back.
“Promise.”
There’s a second where you hesitate before sliding the pad over for him to see. He uses his middle and index finger to drag it over a little more and what he’s met with makes his cheeks warm and his heart flutter about in his chest.
It’s him. 
You’ve drawn him at just about every angle, and in such detail that he wonders if you were trying to downplay your abilities or if this is really your definition of doodling. It’s clear you’ve done most of these by memory only because he’s had his head bent over his desk for the past few hours, and most of these are full views of his face. They’re unbelievably accurate, and he realizes you must look at him enough to have his facial features memorized.
“I-I know they’re not great, and I messed up your lips in a couple, but, uh–.”
“Wow.” He breathes in such genuine wonder that you cut yourself off. He looks up at you, a strange, viscous warmth weaving in between his ribs and settling to swirl in his stomach in such a way that it makes him feel a little sick. But, even more strangely, in a good way. He catches himself staring and quickly looks back at your artwork with a flustered smile, “I-I’m flattered. This is… I mean, you’re amazing.”
The moment the words leave his mouth, heat creeps up his neck and he rushes to correct himself, “I-I mean your work is amazing. Not that you aren’t amazing, because you are, but–.”
“Spence.” This time, it’s his turn to cut himself off. That’s the first time you’ve ever called him that.
And fuck, if he isn’t a goner.
You place your hand over his and his heart leaps into his throat, “Thank you.”
“Y-Yeah.” He’s so lost in your eyes that it comes out a whisper. With a little flush of confidence, he turns his hand palm up in yours to squeeze your fingers before hastily pulling away to avoid you noticing how clammy his hands are.
After that night, he finds himself seeking you out a lot more. Knocking his knee against yours under the table, tapping you to get your attention rather than just calling your name. 
It isn’t until you’re both out with the team that he realizes he hasn’t been as discreet as he thought he’d been. He’s had a few drinks and is a little more than tipsy, which is never a good thing with how much alcohol loosens his lips. Especially when you’re sitting right next to him, definitely more sober than he is. 
“Pretty boy, when did you get so comfortable with people touching you?” Derek asks, earning a rather confused look from the man in question. Before he gets a chance to respond, you’re asking exactly what he’d been thinking.
“What do you mean?” By the way he’s looking between the two of you, Spencer assumes Derek is referring to the way you’re pressed against his side – or rather, how he’s pressed against yours, considering he’s the one who leaned practically his whole body weight into your side the moment you sat down.
“You don’t know?” Emily asks, and you shake your head, “He doesn’t like touching anyone.” A knowing smirk creeps up on her face as she locks eyes with him, “Or at least he normally doesn’t.”
“Oh.” Is all you say in response. He doesn’t like the sadness in your tone, and he especially dislikes the way you shift away from him to give him space. There’s a rather startling urge to wrap his arm around you and pull you back to him, but he shuts that down immediately, not wanting to make you uncomfortable.
“Do you remember that time he dodged a handshake by telling the guy it would be safer for them to kiss?” Penelope giggles, clearly drunk at this point.
“You weren’t even there.” Spencer counters, laughing a little to diffuse the tension. He glances at you out of the corner of his eye and notices that your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes.
You’re a little too quiet the rest of the night. At one point, you leave for the bathroom and when you return, you slide your purse in between the two of you to keep a safe distance. 
He hates it.
He hates it even more when you stop him outside the bar with an apologetic look on your face as you’re all leaving.
“Hey, Spence?”
He swallows the butterflies in his throat that surface at the nickname, “Yeah?”
“I, uh,” You clear your throat awkwardly, “I’m sorry if I’ve ever made you uncomfortable with all the, um… touching.”
He opens his mouth to tell you he really, really doesn’t mind it, but you accidentally cut him off, “I didn’t even consider that you might not be comfortable with it, and that was really inconsiderate of me. Now that I know, you don’t have to worry about it anymore. I’ll be sure to uh, keep my hands to myself.” You titter, glancing at your shoes sheepishly.
“Oh, it’s okay–.” He’s cut off again, this time by Emily, who’s yours and Garcia’s designated driver for the evening. “L/n! You coming?” She calls with a smile.
“Yeah!” You call back, before turning back to him. He watches you almost lean in for a hug, and a pang of disappointment stabs at his chest when you stop yourself in favour of nodding at him with a smile, “I’ll see you next week, yeah?”
“Yeah.” Is all he has time to say before you’re climbing into the backseat of Emily’s car.
He is seriously dreading going into work on Monday.
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honeyedmiller · 7 months
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Ring | Joel Miller
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pairing: husband!joel x wife!reader
warnings: tommy’s being a little shit lol, marriage, reader is unintentionally oblivious for a bit, no outbreak, reader is depicted to be shorter than joel, au where ellie is joel and reader’s adopted daughter but she’s only very briefly mentioned, smut (bathroom quickie), slight jealousy, no use of y/n. 18+, minors dni.
word count: 2k
synopsis: Tommy teases Joel about you and him having marriage problems when he notices you aren’t wearing your ring.
quick one shot in honor of 700 followers??? oh my god?? i love u all sm thank you!!!
this was honestly kinda poorly written. forgive me :’)
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“Hey big brother, what’s up with you and your girl?” Tommy asks, brows furrowed as he leans up against the counter next to Joel.
“Hell are ya talkin’ about, Tommy?” Joel continues to chop onions for the barbecue you guys were throwing today.
“Are you guys, I dunno, having marriage problems?” Tommy quirks a brow, and Joel halts his movements. He sets the knife down on the counter while averting his gaze up to his brother, expression clearly displaying pure annoyance.
Tommy might’ve bugged the shit out of Joel, but he knew he had good intentions. So why the hell would he be asking this?
“What makes you say that?” Joel crosses his arms over his chest now, waiting for Tommy to spew some bullshit at him.
“She’s not wearin’ her ring.” Tommy shrugs, and Joel’s permanent furrowed brow lines deepen even further.
“The hell she ain’t. She always wears her ring.” Joel argues back.
“Go see for yourself big brother.” Tommy gestures outside, where Joel pushes past him and slides open the glass door to find you at the cooler talking with some random new guy from the neighborhood. Joel noticed that he was trying to flirt with you, and being the naturally kindhearted and welcoming person you were, you didn’t catch on.
Joel also noticed that Tommy was right—you weren’t wearing your ring.
If there was one thing that Joel learned from you over the years you’ve been together and three years married, it was how to properly communicate his feelings. He used to be so closed off and would bottle everything up, letting stuff bother him until he became so distant.
You weren’t having any of that, though, so you sat him down one day and told him that you needed proper communication between you both. You were a saint with Joel, being so patient and kind to him as he was trying to unlearn his previous ways of shutting himself out from everyone around him when he didn’t exactly know how to communicate something.
Some days were harder than others, but ever the sweetheart you are, you never rushed him or got irritated when he couldn’t exactly seem to form his words to you. You just held him and kissed him repeatedly, letting him know it was okay and he could take his time.
This time around, he didn’t seem to have a single bit of a problem telling you what he was feeling. So, he walked up to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing your temple to show the man that was so clearly interested in you that you were taken.
“Hey darlin’.” Joel rasps into your ear, kissing your shoulder afterward.
“Hey baby. This is Dominic. He’s new to the neighborhood. Dominic, this is my husband, Joel.”
Joel sported a shit-eating grin when Dominic’s body went rigid at the word husband. Joel stuck his hand out to him, and Dominic apprehensively shook his hand. Joel’s grip was firmer than it regularly was, and Dominic flinched in the slightest.
“Thanks for keeping my beautiful wife some company while I got stuff ready for the grill.” Joel’s voice dripped with sarcasm, and you looked up at him with a quirked brow.
He offered you a tight-lipped smile when his gaze met yours, clearing his throat. “Can I steal you for a minute, baby?” He asks, arms possessively wrapping around your frame. You nod, confused as to why Joel was acting a bit strange suddenly.
He intertwines your hand with his, and you excuse yourself from Dominic as Joel led you into the house and up to your bedroom.
“What’s this about, Joel?” You question as he closes the bedroom door, locking it behind him.
“Where’s your wedding ring at, baby?” He asks, looking down at you. A glint of something flashes across his eyes, but you couldn’t put your finger on what.
“‘S in my jewelry box. I didn’t wanna lose it helping around the backyard today or swimming if I did, so I knew it would be safe in there instead. Why?” Your curiosity is piqued.
Joel slowly maneuvers himself past you and over to your jewelry box, opening the top of it to firstly find your wedding ring neatly placed.
He takes the ring out of the jewelry box and walks over to you, grabbing your left hand to slip it onto your ring finger once more. Right where it belongs, perfectly fitted. He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles softly.
“Tommy’s bein’ a little shit, as always. Came into the kitchen with assumptions that we were having ‘marriage problems’ because you weren’t wearing your ring.” He tsked, shaking his head.
You rolled your eyes and scoffed.
“Y’gotta stop letting Tommy get into your head, J. I love you, I’m yours, and I’m not going anywhere.” You reassured him, and his lips curled up in the slightest.
“I know baby, I just can’t help but feel jealous when I see another man flirting with my woman.”
“Jealous? Of who?” You were puzzled at Joel’s confession, resting a steady hand on his warm chest.
“That new neighbor. Dylan or whatever the fuck his name is.” Joel spat.
You had no idea Dominic was even flirting with you. You thought he was just being friendly. Fuck, maybe Joel was right. Maybe you are oblivious sometimes.
You wrap your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him down so his lips envelope yours. One hand of his is splayed over the small of your back while the other rests on the outside of your thigh, rubbing small circles into your exposed skin. The dress you were wearing today was just another distraction for Joel and a reminder that he needed to behave himself or else the whole neighborhood would hear you saying his name like a prayer on Sunday morning.
Joel’s cock stirred at the thought, and he groaned into the kiss. You pulled apart from him and moved your hands down to his chest again.
“C’mon cowboy, people are gonna wonder where we’re at.” You grin, going to the bedroom door to unlock it. You were about halfway down the hallway before Joel tugged you into the bathroom on your right side.
“They can wait.” He closed the door and pressed you up against it, locking the lock before smashing his lips to yours.
There was so much hunger behind his kiss. You felt slick start to pool onto your panties, the want in your core licking a flame up your body. You moan into the kiss, gripping the back of his head to mold yourself even further into him. It was nothing but teeth clashing, lips smacking, and fervor for one another as the kiss continued.
“Gotta make this quick, babydoll.” Joel finally broke the kiss as you softly whined, and he turned you around to move you in front of the wide mirror. You met his gaze through the reflection, nothing but hunger in his eyes.
He lifted up your dress and pulled your panties down your legs in one swift motion. His middle finger wasted no time in collecting the slick arousal between your legs, causing you to moan softly.
“Always so ready for me, baby.” Joel chuckled darkly as he brought his middle finger up to suck your arousal off of it. He looked you right into the reflection of your eyes as he did so. The sight was nearly pornographic.
You bite your lip and plead with your eyes; please please please just fuck me, Joel.
His middle finger made its way back down to your slick cunt before he pushed it into you, pumping languidly. He curled his thick finger to hit the spot that drove you wild, and you found yourself gripping onto the counter for dear life. You decided, though, that his finger just wasn’t enough in this moment.
“Please, J. I need you.”
“Need you too, baby.” Joel got the message clear as day, unbuckling his belt and undoing his zipper and jeans button in record time, pulling down the fabric along with his boxers. His painful erection sprung free, and he lined himself up with your throbbing, aching cunt.
He easily found home in you as he sunk to the hilt, groaning at how good you felt around him.
“Be a good girl for me and tell me who you belong to.” Joel’s voice was dark, teetering on the line of possessive. You found it hot, though.
“Y-Yours, Joel. ‘M all yours.” You can barely say your words as he starts to rock his hips, deliciously stretching you out every time his hips collided with your ass.
“That’s it, baby, mine. No one else’s. Perfect little pussy is mine, you’re mine, mine.” He gritted into your hair, pulling you back against him by your waist as he rocked his hips up into you. You leaned your head back on his shoulder, moaning his name softly.
“Gotta be quiet, baby, can’t have anyone hearin’ us now.” Joel kissed you sloppily to hide your lewd moans, hips snapping up into you.
“Fuck, Joel, feel s’good.” Your words start to mesh together like you’re absolutely cock drunk.
Joel bends you back down over the sink and gently wraps his hand around your throat, forcing you to look up into the mirror as he pounds into you from behind.
“So fuckin’ beautiful. Takin’ me so well, sweet girl. Been teasin’ me with this little dress on all day.” Joel lets go of your throat and slides his hand down to your front, rubbing your clit in fast, circular motions.
You barely have time to process that your body is about to give into Joel’s expert touch. You squeeze your eyes shut, jaw falling completely slack as you let out an accidental loud moan. Joel didn’t even stop you that time, because he himself was already on the brink of an orgasm.
“Cum with me, my love.” Joel groans into your ear. You both let go and just let it happen, praying that the music playing in the backyard is loud enough to cover your wanton moans as you both come down from your orgasms. Joel was reluctant to move out of you at first, but he couldn’t take the way you were clenched down on him anymore.
You were so fucking intoxicating and if it were his choice, he’d gladly be buried into your sweet, warm cunt all of the time.
Reality trickled back in around you both as he pulled out of you with a groan, both breathless and panting. After readjusting and redressing himself, he grabbed a washcloth from the cabinet above the toilet and wet it, wiping down the excess of his remnants on the apex of your inner thighs. He planted a kiss on the back of your thigh, pulling your panties up on you as he stood back up.
He helped fix your hair and readjusted you so you looked almost completely normal, albeit your face felt hot and you had a post-fuck look on your face.
He brought you into his chest, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he kissed your hair.
“I love you, baby.” He murmurs softly, rocking you for a minute.
“I love you too.” Your reached your left hand up to hook onto his forearm that was wrapped around you, giving it a squeeze. Your ring glinted in the sunlight that pooled into the bathroom window, and Joel smiled happily.
“We’ll continue this later tonight, baby. Maybe Sarah and Ellie can spend the night at a friend’s house tonight.”
Your lips curl into a smile at his suggestion, and you lean up to kiss his cheek.
“Let’s get back out to the party.” He pats your ass and opens the door, coming out after you. You make your way down the stairs, Joel hot on your trail.
Tommy gives Joel a knowing look of ‘I know exactly what you two were up to.’
Joel scoffs at Tommy and grumbles as he moves past his younger brother.
“Marriage problems my ass.”
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tag list: @party-hearses ; @nostalxgic ; @ilovepedro ; @bastardmandennis ; @tinygarbage ; @cool-iguana
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elfyelation · 8 months
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𝐢'𝐦 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 | oneshot
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pairing—astarion x m!tav summary—when tav falls ill, everyone at camp is surprised to find that astarion is intent on staying by his side until he’s better warnings—illness, mention of poison, soft astarion, worried astarion, worried party, hurt/comfort, extensive use of pet names, super soft, extreme fluff word count—754 rating—teen note—this is entirely self-indulgent because i’ve been really ill this past week (thanks covid) and the whole time i was thinking about how astarion would comfort tav if he was hurt/sick so i came up with the idea for this
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“How is he?” he asks and for what might be the first time, she can hear sincerity in his voice.
“Better,” the cleric sighed, “He’s getting better but he’ll still need some time to recover. You can sit with him but if I see those fangs of yours anywhere near him—”
Astarion rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest. "I assure you, Shadowheart, my intentions are far from what you seem to believe. I would never harm Tav. Surely that much has become clear to you by now?"
The sceptical half-elf hummed, “I suppose he will be safe enough for now. Even if your concern for him was a lie I doubt you’d want to risk sucking up any poison that might still be loitering in his veins.”
He knew she had every right to be distrusting of him, especially when it came to Tav’s safety. He only hoped one day they would all finally see just how much Tav really meant to him. That his feelings weren’t a lie. Until then, he’d have to make do with their concern over their friend and his questionable taste in partners.
“A… Astarion?” His weak voice croaked out the moment the vampire spawn ducked inside the tent.
Tav was laying on the blankets, his body completely sweat-ridden as his face contorted with discomfort. He was in still pain, still so vulnerable.
Astarion was by his side in an instant, his cold hands reaching out to gently touch his lover’s forehead. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m here. I’m right here.”
The cool touch of his hand was welcome as it immediately began to cool Tav’s fever. Gale had already expressed his suspicion that it would do as much. There certainly were at least a few perks of being undead.
“Let’s cool you down, shall we?” He wasted no time removing his shirt before crawling down beside his lover. One strong arm gently wrapped around Tav and pulled him closer, hoping that the coldness of his skin would help ease at least some of the pain.
Tav's laboured breaths finally began to slow as he nestled into the embrace, finding solace in the chill of Astarion's body. His fingers wrapped themselves around the cool arm around him, pulling it closer to his chest.
The vampire spawn chuckled against his ear. “Easy, little love, I’m not going anywhere.” His fingers traced delicate patterns on Tav's forehead, willing the fever to subside.
Outside the tent, Shadowheart kept a close eye on the pair and, in doing so, her initial scepticism gradually gave way to a begrudging acceptance of the vampire's genuine concern. She couldn't deny the tenderness she saw in Astarion's eyes as he cared for their companion. It was a side of him she hadn't seen before. A side of him she hadn’t even known was there.
Maybe it wasn’t just about self preservation or sexual desire. Just maybe he truly did care for Tav. She never thought love was something he was capable of but the longer she watched them, the more she realised just how wrong she had been.
Soon enough, his lover was sound asleep in his arms. Sleeping without a sign of pain or discomfort. It was the first time he’d slept properly since his affliction which meant Shadowheart was right, he was getting better.
“You know, you really scared me for a moment there. I… I thought I was going to lose you. I don’t want to go through that again.”
He spoke despite knowing there was no one to hear him. Speaking to a sleeping lover who, as if on instinct, rolled over to snuggle closer into him.
"I'll protect you with everything I have, my love," Astarion murmured, "I promise you that. You mean more to me than I ever thought possible." He knew that Tav couldn't hear him, but the words were as much for himself as they were for his lover.
Astarion had always been a creature of darkness, bound by instinct and desire. Forced to do his cynical master’s bidding. Yet, in Tav's presence, he had found a glimmer of something different, something more profound. It was a love he never thought he deserved, but now that he had it, he would do anything to defend it.
And so, beneath the starlit sky, Astarion held Tav close, vowing silently to cherish every moment they had together, determined to prove that his love was not just words but a promise to protect and endure, no matter the cost.
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sadslay · 7 months
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- BASOREXIA ⋆☆ 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
(n.) the overwhelming desire, or sudden urge, to kiss someone.
warnings — set during s1 ep6, very short (sorry), light nsfw content
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daryl hadn’t known you for long, no more then a few weeks at most but in the short time he had known you, he felt as though he’d known you for years. thanks to not only his brother’s judgements but also his own, he believed you to be some entitled snob that would never looked twice in his direction. his jaw had just about hit the ground when he had discovered you had both grown up in the same neighbourhood, even went to the same community school before him and merle had moved away.
he could never describe the way he felt around you. daryl had always understood he was never smart, not in the ways that mattered or not in the ways that would impress you but he was sure - so goddamn sure - that were was a word or two to describe the way he’d felt about you in the short time he had come to know you. the word daryl was searching for - but would never find - was basorexia.
sitting on a countertop behind a rounded table, watching the others cheer and pour drinks brought a sense of familiarity to you. it reminded you of a simpler time. you focused on lori and rick as they playfully bickered on weather or not their son should try some of the red wine dale was serving, but daryl - who sat beside you, nursing a bottle of beer- was entirely focused on you. the way you looked under the white led lighting of the cdc bunker and the way you giggled as carl pushed away the small cup of wine he had just tried. everything you did was perfect in his eyes, absolutely everything.
“you gonna share that bottle dixon?” you queried, gently nudging into his shoulder as you flashed him cheeky grin.
daryl let out a breathy chuckle, not saying a word before handing you the brown bottle, watching you intently as you brought the bottle up to your lips.
“you should stick to soda pop kid.” shane mumbled as daryl stood up to walk around the table, in hopes to secure another bottle as the current one had almost run out.
“not you glenn.” daryl smiled - that was one of the first times you had seen him genuinely smile - leaning in to grab another bottle before teasing, “keep drinkin’ little man, i wanna see how red your face can get.”
“it seems to me we haven't thanked our host properly.” rick spoke, standing up to look at the man who had reluctantly let us in an hour or so prior.
“he is more than just our host.” t-dog smiled, raising his glass of red wine.
“booyah!” daryl cheered, raising a bottle of spirits into the air before sitting back down beside you, offering you a sip of the new liquor.
you placed the empty bottle of beer beside you before taking the bottle what you assumed was whiskey and cheering, “booyah!” before taking a swig.
“so when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, doc?” shane asked, breaking the cheers and thanks coming from around the room, and almost instantly everyone fell quiet. “all the ah the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?” he asked, looking at the lone scientist.
“we're celebrating, shane.” rick answered quickly, sitting back down beside his son. “don't need to do this now.” he added.
“whoa, wait a second. this is why we're here, right?” shane asked rhetorically, looking at rick before continuing. “this was your move, supposed to find all the answers but instead we uh we found him.” shane explained, his very tome and expression seeming on edge and untrusting. “found one man. why?”
“well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left. went off to be with their families and when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.” the scientist explained, the entire mood shifting.
“every last one?” shane asked sarcastically.
“no, many couldn't face walking out the door. they... opted out. there was a rash of suicides. that was a bad time.” the scientist continued, his voice shaky as he explained the fate of the cdc.
“you didn't leave. why?” andrea asked, placing her half empty glass of wine onto the crowded table.
“i just kept working. hoping to do some good.” he explained.
“dude, you are such a buzzkill, man.” glenn groaned, looking at shane as he slumped back into his chair.
later that night, after every had begun settling in for the night you found yourself lying awake in a sleeping bag a meter or so away from glenn. your hair was still damp from the warm shower you had no more then an hour prior. you pulled yourself up from the sleeping bag, wrapping your arms around your chest before wandering out into the hallway to find all but one light left on. daryls room. the door had been left open, allowing you to lean up against the doorframe as you watched daryl pull a clean shirt over his head and shoulders before noticing the brown bottle by the head of his sleeping bag.
“still hoggin’ the bottle huh dixon?” you giggled, causing daryl to spin around as the rest of his shirt fell down his torso.
he weakly scoffed as his eyes traced up and down your body, most of your legs exposed from the shorts you had found in some drawers while a baggy shirt hid most of your figure.
“d’yer reckon we could find the rest of ‘is stash?” you asked eagerly, looking up at daryl as a breathy chuckle fell from his lips.
“nah, yer cut off woman.” he chortled, as you walked further into his room “yer already drunk as i am.” daryl added.
your eyebrows almost immediately pinched together as you dramatically scoffed, “that shower sobered me up real good.” you teased, bending down to grab the bottle before taking a sip of the room temperature liquor. “‘n what would be so wrong with that?” you asked, folding your arms across your chest.
“nothin’!” he defended, his hands weakly rising into the air before dropping back by his side. “s’just you look like you can’t handle your booze is all.” daryl teased.
you dropped down onto the near by couch as you slurred, “i can handle my liquor jus’ fine.”
closely you watched daryl as he plopped down beside you, taking the brown bottle from your hand before taking another swig.
“women can never handle their liquor.” he mumbled, a weak laugh escaping his lips, making you frown.
“dixon.” you mumbled, looking across to his eyes as they remained focused on the bottle in front of him. “that sounds like a challenge.” you smirked causing the man to look up with a devilish grin plastered on his lips.
he extended his arm, offering the bottle to you. you took the bottle from daryl causing a soft giggle to leave your lips as you brought the rim of the bottle up to your mouth. taking another swig of the brown liquor - burning your throat - you rested the bottle in your lap.
“yer gonna be wasted.” he noted, trying to hide the grin sneaking onto his lips.
“you’ve never even seen me drink,” i scoffed, “for all you know i could’ve been a drunk before all of this rubbish.” i added, handing the bottle back to daryl as he shuffled a little closer.
“‘cept i do, yer told me ‘bout an hour ago that you barely had your first drink before the world went to shi-.” daryl teased, his words cut off as your hand covered his mouth, quietly shushing him.
“i told you that in confidence, and i said first legal drink.” you pouted as daryl’s hand lifted up to connect with yours that was still covering the majority of his mouth.
you could feel daryls breath on the palm of your hand as he let out a small chuckle but as his hands slowly began to peel yours away from his mouth, his lips began to purse, leaving a soft kiss on your skin. you watched him as his lips continued further down your wrist, his hand loosening before finally letting go to reattach at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him as you lips met. quicker then you could have ever imagined the kiss grew heated and passionate as you found yourselves pulling each other closer. in an act of desperation you pulled yourself onto his lap, resting your knees on either sides of his hips as you sat down on his lap, but it still didn’t feel close enough.
when you had suddenly pulled your lips away from daryls, leaving him confused and afraid that he had overstepped, but as your hands cradled his cheeks and a smile began to creep onto your lips he was left in a state of confusion.
“been waitin’ for yer to do this for a while.” you grinned, your eyes wandering around daryls face, admiring every little detail thanks to the close proximity.
“thought you were only doin’ this cause you’d been drinkin’.” he answered glumly, his hands still loosely hovering over your hips.
you shrugged weakly, a smirk creeping onto your lips as you whispered, “needed some liquid courage.” before your lips connected to his prickled jawline.
“scared of me huh?” he asked, his grip tightening around your waist as your delicate kisses began to tickle his skin.
“m’not scared of you.” you mumbled into the crook of his neck, slowly beginning to work your way back to his lips.
but just as you went to reconnect your lips, daryl slightly pulled away, his eyebrows pinched together as he whispered, “ya think i’d say no to yer?”
you stayed silent, shyly nodding. heavy breaths filled the room as a weak muffled scoff left daryls lips. you let out a little chuckle at your own foolish mind for getting in the way of an action you had been wanting to pursue for some time now.
“didn’t think i was your type.” you commented, combing a piece of hair out of your face before your hand reattached to the base of daryl’s neck.
“didn’t think i was ya type either.” he breathlessly chuckled, his hands remaining firmly gripped onto your waist.
a soft giggle left your lips as your lips momentarily connected with daryls before pulling away to whisper, “your one hundred percent my type.” you smiled, your very words making daryl scoff in disbelief before your lips reconnected with his.
daryl was in heaven on earth. he had never imagined this happening and now with you on his lap, your mouth slowly beginning to part from his lips as you trailed down his chin and jaw, your entire body now beginning to slide down. his chest rose and fell heavily as you rested on your knees, your hands now beginning to fiddle with his belt buckle.
“ya- yer don’ have ta-“ a groan slipped from daryls lips as you began to peel away his jeans, the very action sending him into a euphoric state and with you on your knees before him, something much more lustful and libidinous began to grow.
the following morning daryl woke up to you wrapped around his body, the sleeping bag - intended for one person use - was sprawled out over your two bodies, providing some warmth. your arms were wrapped around his torso, and your legs were intertwined with his. daryl looked down at you, admiring your soft delicate feature as you peacefully slept for the first time in months.
daryl thought you were so deep in sleep that nothing could possibly wake you, so when a strand of your hair fell across your face, tickling your nose and lips, daryls hand rose from his side. as he began to brush away your hair, your eyes began to flutter open, causing daryl to freeze as he trucked the strand of hair behind your ear.
“morning.” you grumbled, your arms pulling away from the warmth of daryls body to stretch.
“mornin’.” he hummed, following your actions of sitting up right, the pair of you sitting shoulder to shoulder. “yer hungover?” daryl teased, beginning to rub his face before combing his hair out of his face.
“shut up.”
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incognit0slut · 3 months
Text
Right Kind of Wrong (Epilogue)
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She never thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.
Series Masterlist Part Summary: The couple finally finds the happiness they both deserve. Part Warnings: nothing really just implied smut, fluff, and happily ever after
Author's note at the end!
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...One year later...
"WE NEED TO LEAVE."
The urgency in his voice carried a subtle tone of exasperation as the words softly left his lips. The urgency wasn't overtly pronounced, but it lingered in the air, urging her to quicken her pace. She focused her attention on the bathroom mirror, hastily slipping into the dress chosen for the occasion of the night.
"Give me five more minutes!"
"We're already five minutes late!"
"And whose fault is that?" she retorted, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.
She could almost imagine the incredulous expression on his face from the other room as he responded, "Mine? Really?"
"Who insisted on spending this afternoon watching a documentary about the wonders of deep-sea exploration?" she teased.
"In my defense, it was fascinating," was his immediate reply. "Did you know there are creatures down there that look like they're from another planet?"
"I know, Spencer, we watched it together, remember?"
"You fell asleep halfway through it."
"Well, in my defense—" She paused, struggling with the zipper of her dress. "You were really warm."
His laughter resonated from the other room. "So it's my fault you're taking forever to get ready now?"
"Absolutely, it's a cause-and-effect scenario," she replied, her arms stretching behind her in an attempt to reach the stubborn zipper. A sudden strain and a high-pitched groan escaped her lips. "Ouch!"
His concerned footsteps approached and he appeared at the bathroom doorway. "What's wrong?"
She winced, rubbing the sore spot on her back. "I strained my muscles trying to zip up this dress."
He raised an eyebrow. "Need a hand?"
She shot him a mock glare. "Are you insinuating I can't handle a zipper?"
He held up his hands in surrender. "Of course not. But if we want to make it to Rossi's place on time, maybe a little help won't hurt."
She glanced at him from the mirror as his gaze lingered on her dress, tracing the contours that hugged her figure. She noticed the subtle appreciation in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the effect the outfit had on him. A playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips as she sighed in mock defeat.
"Fine, but no funny business."
He slowly approached her, gently taking the zipper in his fingers. "No funny business."
She felt his presence as he settled behind her, the air carrying a subtle warmth that seemed to dance across her skin. Instead of immediately tending to the zipper, his fingers, gentle and deliberate, traced a tantalizing path along the exposed skin of her back. His eyes met hers in the mirror, and for a brief moment, time seemed to slow.
"Spence," she breathed out, the name carrying a subtle plea for him to continue or to stop—she wasn't entirely sure which.
"Hmm?"
"I thought we were late."
He smiled, the corners of his lips lifting in a playful yet knowing expression. He held her gaze as he leaned closer to her, brushing a feather-like kiss on her shoulder.
"I believe we can spare a few more minutes," he replied, the timbre of his voice holding a warmth that echoed through the space between them.
She couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at her lips. "And what, may I ask, do you plan to do with these 'few more minutes'?"
His lips lingered on her shoulder for a moment longer before he pulled back, still maintaining their proximity. "Well, I was thinking of using them to properly appreciate how beautiful you look tonight."
Her cheeks flushed with a combination of flattery and playful embarrassment. "Very smooth."
She could feel the warmth of his breath on her skin as he spoke, and a teasing glint sparkled in his eyes. "After all, punctuality can sometimes be overrated, don't you think?"
She chuckled. "Coming from someone who likes to be punctual."
"Maybe I've learned a thing or two from you." His fingers traced a gentle pattern on her exposed back, and he murmured, "Besides, Rossi wouldn't mind. We have more important matters to attend to."
She arched an eyebrow, a playful smile on her lips. "And what might that be, Dr. Reid?"
He pushed the strap of her dress down her shoulder, his touch gentle yet filled with a subtle urgency. His fingers traced a delicate path along her skin, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake.
"You," he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers down her spine.
As his lips met the exposed curve of her shoulder, a soft sigh escaped her. "Baby... are you really trying to have sex right now?"
"Why wait when the opportunity presents itself?"
She couldn't help but laugh at his sudden change of mind. "You're impossible, you know that?"
He grinned, a boyish charm lighting up his features. "Guilty as charged."
Before she could respond, he dipped his head and sucked on a spot right below her ear. She breathed out a moan and leaned back into him, giving him better access. When she felt him tug down her dress impatiently, her rational thoughts flew out the window.
"Fine," she agreed, letting her dress fall around her feet. "But make it quick."
As if to answer her challenge, he scooped her up in his arms with unexpected strength. Her laughter mixed with a surprised gasp as he carried her towards the bedroom, his lips finding hers in a hungry kiss. Quick was a concept they never quite understood when it came to their sexual needs, but maybe they could entertain the idea, starting from now.
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They were an hour late.
Fifty-six minutes, according to Spencer, because apparently, he measured the exact time it took for them to arrive at Rossi's house.
Although calling his place a house seemed like a mockery considering how big the property was. It was more like a mansion, and even when Spencer had taken her here a few times ever since the early stages of their relationship, Rossi's place never seemed to seize her amazement.
The host of the night didn't even bat an eyelash when they arrived, he didn't mind their tardiness. The other team members, however, couldn't resist making comments about the couple's late arrival, and the teasing became even more persistent when the girls cornered her at one point in the night.
Penelope raised an eyebrow with an impish grin. "What took you two so long?"
She wasn't sure how to answer the question. Should she just be honest and tell her she was being fucked in different positions? Penelope didn't seem to be the type to judge, granted, the first time she was introduced to her, the perky blonde woman didn't have much filter on her mouth to begin with. But she also didn't want to discuss her sex life with her boyfriend's colleagues.
She contemplated her response, weighing the balance between honesty and maintaining privacy. Penelope's inquisitive gaze lingered, and she decided on a response that offered some truth without delving into the details.
"We lost track of time," she replied instead, keeping it intentionally vague.
Emily leaned in, a smirk playing on her lips. "Is that so?"
She laughed, her cheeks flushing even more. "It's not what you think."
JJ joined in the teasing, "Well, someone is glowing tonight. I hope you at least have a good excuse for being fashionably late."
"Actually, we were discussing the intricacies of deep-sea exploration."
The girls exchanged amused glances, and Penelope quirked an eyebrow. "Deep-sea exploration, huh? Is that the code for something?"
She laughed. "It's about a documentary."
They exchanged a knowing look, clearly unconvinced by her vague explanation. Despite the embarrassment, she couldn't deny the warmth that spread within her. It was a strange yet comforting feeling, knowing that they had something special that others could only speculate about. When Penelope and Emily left to refill their drinks, JJ leaned in closer to her.
"We're sorry," she insisted. "Spencer never had a serious relationship before, we couldn't stop teasing."
She smiled appreciatively at JJ's sincerity. "No harm done. I understand it comes with the territory, especially with Spencer."
JJ smiled, her expression softening. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay with it."
"I can handle a bit of teasing. Besides, it's all in good fun, right?"
JJ nodded, a friendly smile on her face. "Absolutely. He's a great guy, and we're just happy to see him happy."
She followed JJ's gaze, watching Spencer engage with the kids. His eyes lit up with childlike excitement as he performed a silly magic trick, and the children erupted into giggles. The older child, who initially seemed to act as if he was at a big boy age, now wore a huge grin and eagerly urged Spencer to perform another trick.
She couldn't help but smile as she witnessed his effortless connection with them. It was a sight that made her heart swell with affection. A year ago, she could only dream of such moments. The happiness that Spencer brought into her life was beyond her wildest expectations. Not only was she in a happy and steady relationship, she was welcomed into his world.
The memory of visiting Spencer's mother, a year prior, resonated in her thoughts. Witnessing his patience and tenderness with his mom had moved her to tears. It was a moment that spoke volumes about the depth of their connection and the kindness embedded in his character.
Now, a year later, even when she had interacted with his teammates before, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude. Their presence made her feel as if she was embraced as an additional family member to this tight-knit group. The realization touched her deeply, and her eyes lingered on Spencer with so much affection, reaching a point where her heart felt like it was on the verge of bursting.
"He's really good with kids," JJ suddenly said, bringing her back to reality.
She smiled, a warm feeling coursing through her. "Yeah, he is. It's amazing to watch."
JJ nodded, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Have you ever thought of having your own?"
The question hung in the air, and she took a moment to consider it. The idea of starting a family with Spencer had crossed her mind, but discussing it with someone else made it feel more tangible, more real. She took a moment, her gaze drifting back to Spencer, still enchanting the kids with his magic tricks.
"I... I think about it sometimes," she admitted, her voice soft.
JJ's smile widened, and there was a glint of genuine happiness in her eyes. "You two would make wonderful parents."
The compliment warmed her heart. The thought of a family with Spencer, navigating the joys and challenges of parenthood together, painted a vivid and hopeful picture in her mind. Yet, it was also a conversation they hadn't explicitly delved into.
She looked back at Spencer, his laughter mingling with the children's joy, creating a symphony of happiness. The idea of sharing these moments with their own children felt like a dream she hadn't dared to fully embrace. His gaze suddenly met hers and he waved in response.
JJ leaned in, her voice softer. "Whenever you're ready for it, just know you have a whole team here ready to support you both."
A mix of emotions swirled within her. Spencer, seemingly sensing her emotional state, excused himself from the impromptu magic show and approached them.
"Everything okay?" he asked, his brows furrowed with concern.
JJ gave her a knowing look before patting Spencer on the back. "Just sharing some girl talk, don't worry."
He quirked an eyebrow but didn't press further. JJ slowly excused herself and now that they were alone again, he pulled her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Are you sure you're okay?"
She leaned into his comforting embrace, a small smile playing on her lips. "Yeah, I'm more than okay." Her eyes then trailed over to JJ and her kids again. "They seem to adore you."
He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling with genuine happiness. "Well, I adore them too."
A comfortable silence settled between them. She wasn't sure it was the right moment to have this discussion, but she found herself voicing her curiosity, even when her heart was beating fast. "Have you ever thought of... having kids?"
Spencer's gaze softened as he considered the question and she waited with bated breath for his reply.
"I used to, but then I've always been focused on my work and solving cases." He paused, his fingers gently tracing circles on her back. "Although lately, I find myself thinking about it more, especially with you."
She let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. "With me?"
"Who else would I be thinking of having a family with?"
She couldn't help but smile at his response, a warmth blooming in her chest. "Fair point."
His thumb continued its gentle movements on her back. "The idea of creating a home together, it—” he let out a sigh. “It sounds like a dream."
Her heart skipped a beat. "It does, doesn't it?"
"Yeah," he said, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It really does."
They stood there, wrapped in the warmth of shared dreams and the quiet excitement of the future. But then her smile faltered, a subtle cloud of worry casting a shadow on her face. Spencer sensed the shift and gently tugged her. "What's wrong?"
Her eyes reflected a hint of concern. "I... I haven't had my period this month."
His own brows furrowed as he performed a quick calculation in his head. "Of course, you haven't, you're due—" his words trailed off as his gaze met hers. "...two weeks ago."
She wasn't sure which one was more surprising—his knowledge of her menstrual cycle or the fact that she was two weeks late. The weight of the situation settled in, and just as anxiety started to swell within her, Spencer's face transformed into a wide grin.
"Oh my god," she gasped. "Spence—I... what if...?"
His grin widened, eyes filled with a mix of excitement and joy. "What if we're going to be parents?"
She threw him a ludicrous look. "How are you not panicking?"
He laughed. "Didn't we discuss how great it would be to start a family?"
"Well, sure, somewhere in the future, not now."
He led her away from the festive atmosphere surrounding them to a quieter area out on the back porch. When they were finally alone, he stood in front of her, making sure his body was shielding her distraught face.
"Hey," he said gently, cupping her face in his hands, "This could be a wonderful surprise. We just talked about it, right?"
She nodded, but uncertainty still lingered in her eyes. "Yeah, but it's so sudden. I didn't expect it to happen a minute later after we discussed it. What if we're not ready? What if—"
"No one is ever fully ready for a significant change, but we have each other, and we'll figure it out,” he cut in, his thumbs caressing her cheeks.
She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "But... w-what if I'm not a good mom?"
His gaze softened, and he cradled her face in his hands. "Are you kidding? You'll be an amazing mom. I've seen the kindness, strength, and love in you. Those are the qualities that make a great parent."
Her heart swelled at his words. She sniffled, a small smile breaking through. "You really think so?"
"I know so," he affirmed, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
A sense of calm washed over her as she absorbed his words, holding him closer. It was scary, yet nothing was certain yet, and there was no use in her worrying. He gently wiped away a tear she wasn't even aware of.
"We'll take it one step at a time. And no matter what happens, we have each other and a lot of people who care about us."
Her eyes traveled towards the group of people behind the glass window. The same people who had saved her life, the people who took care of her, the people who embraced her with open arms.
She slowly nodded, feeling a mix of emotions—fear, excitement, and so much affection. "Okay," she whispered.
"You know I love you, right?"
She softly smiled, a tender warmth enveloping her. Her thoughts traveled to the first time he confessed his love for her, remembering how flustered and embarrassed he had been. Now, those three words came effortlessly, carrying a depth that only time and shared experiences could carve.
"I do," she whispered, her gaze lingering on him. "And I love you too."
He smiled affectionately. "We'll get a test pack on the way home."
He then brushed a strand of hair away from her face and leaned in, capturing her lips in a soft, lingering kiss. The irony of her initial thoughts about how wrong it was to be involved with him crossed her mind. The circumstances that once cast shadows of guilt over her feelings now seemed to dissolve, replaced by an overwhelming sense that everything was right.
Their bodies melded together seamlessly, and the way his lips brushed over hers felt nothing short of perfect. She couldn't help but feel that what initially seemed like the wrong path had led them to this moment. It was the right kind of wrong—a beautiful contradiction that had crossed their lives together in ways they could have never predicted.
And the two lines greeting them later that night were evidence of how right everything was going to be.
.
Author's note
When I started this series, my goal was to give him the happy ending he deserves and a proper love interest. One that had a back story, one that clearly didn’t die, and one that would make him a dad! I wanted to portray a story as if you were watching a Spencer-centric plot on the show. (Although with the amount of smut here, I doubt it could be aired)
And with that being said, I apologize for any inaccuracy of the crime/mystery plot. Although it's not perfect, I'm pretty happy with how this turned out throughout the eight months this story went on. Yep, EIGHT MONTHS. This was my very first post on this blog and I'm deeply attached to it.
So thank you for reading, commenting, sharing, interacting, and just accepting me and my ideas. It's also safe to say that I won't be writing another series in the near future, but I will still be posting other things. 
Again, thank you so much. I love each and every one of you💕
.
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giddyfatherchris · 3 months
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I can't sleep
pairing: bang chan x reader
type: not requested
warnings: none, pure fluff baby
word count: 1k
requests: open for stray kids and bts
a/n: i thought of this when i had an insomnia episode for a few weeks and it always helped make me feel better, i hope it does the same for any night owl out there xxx
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summary: the reader cannot find sleep, but instead finds comfort in the arms of her sweet sweet sweet partner
You awoke for what felt like the millionth night in a row. Eyes wide open, a little hot, and completely lucid. You stared at the ceiling, praying you would fall back asleep, but nothing.
Lately, you felt like a broken record. Almost every night, you would have the weirdest dreams and wake up every hour, struggling to get back to sleep. You would either end up on the couch reading a book or stay in bed trying every trick to reach a peaceful slumber once more.
Some nights, Chan was right by your side, and you cursed him for being asleep while you weren't. Of course, you immediately chased the thought from your brain every time. You knew how much sleep evaded him. The rare nights he could get were a blessing, and you would be a horrible person if you ever were mad at him for recuperating all his missing hours.
You checked your phone, hoping the time on your device would be decent enough for you to get up. You let out a growl of disappointment when you saw the numbers 3, 1, and 0 flash on the screen. You couldn’t help a spasm of frustration only to stop the motion dead in your tracks. You winced, praying you didn’t wake Chan up. After a few seconds of statuesque immobility, you realized your Aussie boyfriend was not in bed. You patted the blankets, searching for his muscular frame, but found nothing. You sat up and noticed the door ajar with a feeble light filtering through the crack.
You got out of bed, not before wrapping yourself properly like a burrito, and went out. Unsurprisingly, you found Chan in his office, gaze focused on the screen before his eyes. His hair was disheveled beneath the hood of his sweater. He wore his favorite pair of sweatpants and looked cozy as all hell. It seemed you weren’t the only one sleep eluded tonight.
You observed him for a few seconds, admired his handsome features, and marveled at his concentration. You felt your heart flutter with love for the man before you, gently humming to some mysterious song only he knew about. You shuffled to him, attracting his attention.
"Oh, hey baby. I didn’t know you were awake." he smiled at you like you were the best thing in the world, and you felt a herd of butterflies take control of your stomach but pouted at the mention of your insomnia.
"I think I caught your illness," you whined with your lower lip deep set in a pout. "I can't sleep well lately." He looked at your moody expression with a small smile illuminating his bare face. God, you were cute.
"Poor baby," he cooed, "I'm sorry to hear that." He opened his arms, motioning for you to sit on his lap.
You did so happily, sitting on his thighs and facing him like a koala. He stroked your back and held you tight.
"I'm sorry for saying I caught your illness. I feel so guilty telling you I can't sleep knowing you've been dealing with insomnia your whole life. I sound like a bratty kid, I'm sorry," you mumbled on his clothed shoulder.
He pulled back enough to meet your face. "Hey, I never said anything like that and didn't even think it. I get how frustrating it can be. As you said, I can't even remember a time when I didn't have insomnia. I'm so used to it that I don't really care anymore, but that doesn't mean I can't show you compassion for going through something similar. Okay? So I don't want to hear anything more about feeling guilty."
You nodded shyly before letting your head fall on his shoulder.
"My beautiful angel", he whispered while kissing the side of your head, just above your ear. You nuzzled in the crook of his neck, took a deep breath, and inhaled his familiar scent, appreciating the calming effect it always had on you.
You finally looked at his screen, wondering what he was working on. As usual, when Chan couldn’t sleep he used that time to work. He figured at a young age that if he couldn't use the late hours of the night to rest, he might as well put that free time to good use. He quickly explained the new song he was working on, inspiration striking in the dead of the night. You nodded appreciatively before settling your forehead on his chest.
You stayed like that for a little while, hoping sleep would find you, as it sometimes happened when you were cuddling with Chan, but nothing. Not the faintest sign of sleepiness.
"You really can’t sleep, uh?" he asked when you wiggled on his lap for the third time. He also hoped the cuddles would have lulled you to sleep as it usually did, and wondered if he had lost some of his effect on you.
You sighed deeply, "I don't know what's happening to me."
He sat back in his chair, hands on your thighs, to face you. He gently lifted his hands to cup your cheeks. You leaned into the touch and almost started purring like a kitten when he stroked the side of your face.
"I think it’s time we use the big guns," he suggested magnanimously.
He carried you to the couch and gently laid you down before disappearing. You heard him rummaging in the kitchen for a little while before he returned with two steaming cups of tea.
"First, a little chamomile tea. It helps to relax and fall asleep." He smiled before handing you the cup. "Careful, it's very hot."
He disappeared again and reappeared with more blankets, his Wolfchan plush you loved, and his laptop in one hand.
"What are we doing?" you stared curiously at him, the hint of a smile playing on your lips.
He sat down next to you and grabbed the remote.
"Now, we put on one of your favorite movies, and you just relax. I have to finish this tiny thing for work, and then we can cuddle. Does that sound good?"
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you looked at your oh-so-caring boyfriend. You grabbed his face and kissed him deeply. You loved the way his lips just seemed to fit perfectly with yours. Once you pulled back, he seemed a little dazed but stared at you adoringly.
"Woah, what did I do to deserve that?" he whispered, gaze still going back and forth between your eyes and lips.
"Oh, not much. Just being the best boyfriend on earth."
He smiled shyly and kissed your forehead before putting the movie on play.
You cuddled into his side, lightly playing with his free hand. You watched the first movie, sipping on your comforting cup of tea while he worked. Once done, you watched another together until sleep finally graced the both of you with its peaceful embrace.
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seelestia · 2 years
Text
★彡 𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐀𝐙𝐄.
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❝𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥, 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐦 𝐈 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞
SUMMARY. redamancy is a love returned in full — except you express that by staring at your lover like a madman.
CHARACTERS. xiao, venti, kazuha, heizou, zhongli, albedo, gorou, itto, scaramouche, ayato, childe, diluc, thoma, kaeya.
GENRE. cotton candy fluff, little bits of crack, teeny tiny angst in kaeya's part, established relationship.
CW. use of pet names.
THOUGHTS. weewoo, my first multi post! i may have screamed, kicked my feet in the air, and sobbed while writing this and i hope you do too <3 /pos
☆ masterlist.
─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─
XIAO turns his face away nervously. You are silent, yet your gaze speaks many volumes; volumes that he is unable to comprehend properly. What exactly should an Adeptus say to such peculiar manner of staring? Xiao clears his throat, "If you have words to spare, then spit them out." Bold words for someone with reddening cheeks.
VENTI grins as if he had caught a thief red-handed. "Is it me or is someone awfully shameless today, hm?" Although it is clear as day that you're not even trying to hide it, this bard sees the opportunity to tease you and he takes it in stride. As a performer, Venti is used to having eyes on him — but to receive such attention from his beloved is so much sweeter, is it not?
KAZUHA returns your gaze with an even softer one. He asks, "Is something wrong, my love?" What started out as a way to express your adoration for his beauty turns into a mutual contest. Kazuha's eyes are a beautiful scarlet red, you know that — but why is it so hard to acknowledge when he's staring right back at you? But in his defense, he is but a humble man returning the favor and using it as an excuse to adore you.
HEIZOU pretends to poke your eyes. "Ah-ah, where's your permission to stare?" A cheeky one, indeed. Heizou hovers two fingers in front of your eyes as if poised to poke on command. With the way his smile is almost reaching his ears, it's so difficult to take him seriously — and it doubles by tenfold when Heizou dives in for a kiss. His giggles tap against your lips, "There you go, permission granted." Great, just awesome; now, you feel like poking his pretty olive eyes instead.
ZHONGLI is unmoving yet knowing all the same. No, he is not oblivious, not in the slightest. In fact, he knows you are staring at him. Zhongli usually doesn't mind being gawked at; yet as he takes a sip of his tea, he can't help but chuckle, "You can look until you've had enough, but don't let the tea get cold now." Your eager gaze that is almost akin to a stupefied child is more amusing than he thought, it seems.
ALBEDO wonders what is running through your mind. As if his thoughts have morphed into crystalflies that leave a trail of epiphany in their wake, you exhale a cold breath and two words for him, "You're beautiful." Albedo realizes that maybe, his metaphor might've been off the mark; because no longer are the crystalflies taking flight in the air, they are here in his chest like fluttering butterflies at the sight of your smile.
GOROU blinks in confusion. Deciphering has never been his best suit, so when Gorou finds you staring at him without a word, his first instinct is to assume the worst. His ears droop down almost instantly, "W-what's wrong?" The genuine fear on Gorou's face makes you panic and he swears he never relished in relief like ever before after you explain. No, he's not mad — he just can't help but sulk, just a little. Ahem, please don't scare him like that again.
ITTO pats himself in accomplishment. "Are you staring because I look extra, super duper handsome today? Ohoho!" Was it the new shampoo? Mouthwash? Eyeliners? His pearly white teeth? The comb he exchanged for snacks yesterday?! He sounds obsessed but hey, he wants to look good for you — and if you're staring at him like that, it means his efforts aren't in vain! How silly though, you've always been staring at him like this; Itto was just too immersed in his beetle fights to notice.
SCARAMOUCHE flicks your forehead. You get two privileges, though; a forehead flick and a somewhat gentle one at that. He doesn't just flick anybody's forehead, you're special (or whatever). Scaramouche huffs, "Got a staring problem? Your eyes look like they're gonna pop out." But you don't mind, you'd gladly pick them up just to stare at him again. "Ugh, weirdo," he rolls his eyes but he's actually smiling, so who's the weirdo here?
AYATO only hums in acknowledgment. "Is this angle good enough for your liking, dearest?" He says that so casually. As a man who has etiquette engrained into him since young, you partially expect him to reprimand you. It's common knowledge that staring is improper in public, after all — but that's exactly it; right now, he isn't the public figure, Kamisato Ayato but simply a man with his beloved. How ironic would it be to reprimand the very person who gives him a sense of normalcy? Besides, you're adorable, so he's not complaining one bit.
CHILDE tilts his head questioningly at first but plays along. He searches your eyes; is this a prank or are you angry? The corners of his lips crook into a grin, there's a playful agenda in his mind. "Are we doing a staring contest? If I win, will you give me a kiss?" His jokes are just a way of his to get a reaction from you. But when it fails, Tartaglia's grin quite literally drops, "Wait, are you actually upset? [Y/N], what did I do—" And he won't stop pestering you with a whine until you explain.
DILUC lowers his head into a bow. He mutters quietly, "I'm sorry." Straightforward words, but the thing is does he even know what he's apologizing for? Actually, why is he apologizing? Diluc looks so meek underneath your gaze, you wonder how he'd react if you tell him that you're merely staring because you can't look away? Simple, he wouldn't know how to; so, he'd fake a cough to hide his face or more specifically, the shades similar to his hair blooming on it.
THOMA frowns with concern. "Do you need something, my love?" His hand is warm as he cups the side of your cheek as a giving touch of comfort. Are you staring at him to get his attention? Has something been bothering you? Worried questions begin to fill Thoma's mind — of course, your well-being is what comes to mind first, not the thought of you admiring him for no reason. "Ah, you're such a tease. You scared me there," he pinches your nose; that's a Thoma-like way to get revenge, alright.
KAEYA leans in closer. He does so with no hesitance, no warning whatsoever and you lean back with a squeak. Kaeya chuckles to his heart's content with a cheeky jest, "Why, I thought that was an invitation?" But beneath the desire to fluster you, lies an odd sense of contentment; knowing that you stare at him with such a loving gaze. "Thank you," two words that seem so out of place, but Kaeya wants to say them anyway.
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— © seelestia, july 2022. do not repost, plagiarize, translate nor claim as your own.
14K notes · View notes
pvrkacciosan · 10 months
Text
Red Jacket
A/n: this is the official first F1 fic I'm writing, sooooooooooooo, also unedited so if there is any mistakes its because I haven't actually corrected them lol
Synopsis: A simple one of where Charles gets jealous when he sees his girl in any colour other than Ferrari Red after they fight.
Pairing: Charles Leclerc X Fem!reader
Warnings: swearing, slightly possessive Charles, tension between drivers
Word Count: 1.8K
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You loved your boyfriend, you really did.
But over the past couple of days, You and Charles had really hit a rough patch, which was natural in any healthy relationship, but it still hurt none the less.
He wasn't just your boyfriend, he was your best friend, and you knew that no matter what happened you could and would always trust him with anything,
But even that fact didn't stop you from currently wanting to yell at him right now.
You could understand and appreciate the line of work he was in, especially with an upcoming triple header of races. Charles was stressed, and you trying to be supportive only seemed to get on his already shorter nerves.
Perhaps you had overstepped, but you might also be too stubborn to back down.
"I'm not going to apologise for making sure my boyfriend is taking care of himself Charles!" - You simply had tried to make him drink some water, Water!
"I can take care of myself Y/n, I don't need you to babysit me"
He turned away from you, his shoulders and back rigid, the muscles in his back squared out in his anger.
"Well I clearly fucking need to Charles, You're not taking care of yourself1 Perhaps I should hire a babysitter, Because I ain't putting up with this shit"
He had emptied out is pockets, dumping his phone onto the table in his drivers room, Even as you watched him, his back still you, It wasn't difficult to here the recognisable mutter of him swearing in french under his breathe.
It wasn't a language you spoke but swearing was universal, reaching for the door, Charles looked over his shoulder at you, barely turning enough to even look at you properly,
"Don't put up with it then" his voice was low and in any other situation you might have welcomed the heat that spread between your legs, but not right now,
The words struck you, upside the head as though a brick had been chucked at you.
"Fine. I won't"
Grabbing the handle you ripped the door wide, storming out, you slammed it so hard behind you that it didn't shut, instead the door rattles against its frame, swinging back over.
Charles wouldn't follow you out like this, not where there was the potential for camera's to catch you too fighting like this, whether that would matter right now or not, you weren't sure.
The staff all dressed in red parted for you as you walked, You missed Carlos as he attempted to ask you what was wrong, upon peering at your expression,
You didn't stop, Even through your haze you could hear him as he ran after you, gently grabbing your elbow he pulled you to a stop,
"Y/n, what is the matter?" there was genuine concern across the face of your boyfriends team mate, he examined your expression before looking back in the direction of Charles driving room,
"Nothing Carlos, it's fine" you quickly wiped away at the tear that rolled down your cheek, you didn't want to believe that Charles might have meant when he said for you to not, deal with this anymore, What had it meant in regards to the two of you.
It wasn't something you wanted to tread over, so when you pulled away from Carlos lightly, he didn't stop you,
"Keep an eye on him for me, Yeah?" He nodded, and then you were moving once more.
Leaving the Ferrari bay, you mindlessly weaved through the crowd of fans, reporters and staff milling about, trying to find an open space were you could simply take a second to rejig your thoughts.
The crowd which seemed never ending streamed on and on,
"Fuck sake." the curse left your lips as you smacked straight into someone, by accident.
A pair of hand extended out to steady you when you stumbled back from the impact,
"Easy there Y/n" when you recognised the familiar voice, some of the tension eased from you.
"Max..." you breathed,
His hands still one your shoulders, he peaked down at you in concern, You had known Charles for years, which by default you had also gotten to know the dutchman, despite everything, Max had always been good to you and had never given you any reason to be anything but friendly around him.
In the past, When you and Charles got together, he feared Max might steal you from him, but Max knew where the line was with you, and had never once tried to cross it.
Perhaps it was because of your friendship, that made it so easy for you to explain things to him. It was not your intention to cry in front of him, but as you spoke you couldn't stop the small whimper and quiver in your voice.
"I yelled at Charles."
You watched as Max's expression quickly turned to one of undertsnaind, and when he cast hs gaze back up to the surrounding people, with phones. He quickly pulled off his jacket, handing it to you.
You hesitated before slipping it on, he began to guide you around the crowd and through a set of doors, it wasn't until you saw all the mechanics that you realised you were inside the Red bull garage.
You stopped dead in your tracks, it felt weirdly wrong being in another teams garage. Max waited for you, and din't move you on until you looked a little more comfortable,
He sat you in the corner, his jacket still wrapped around you body,
"I've got to start getting ready for this race, Here's a headset, you can listen in to the radios, we can talk after okay?" he patted the top of your knee lightly, nodding you watch him grab you a set of headphones, before he darted off to start getting ready for the race.
It felt more then weird to be here instead, you would usually be sitting with Charles while he got ready, saying that your presence helped to keep him level headed beforehand, you couldn't deny that not being with him put you slightly on edge, almost like you couldn't quite get grips on what was going on around you.
But before you knew it, Max came back through, dressed and ready to drive. Out of respect you moved away while he had a briefing with his team, he came to grab you right before he began climbing into his car.
Wrapping your arms around yourself, you stood to watch the screen in the garage, feeling the anticipation as the drivers began moving out for the formation lap. Your eyes going straight to the red number 16 car.
As the lights finally went out and the race began, your heart hammered hard in your chest watching as the drivers did what they did best. Race.
☽ - Charles - ☾
It wasn't the pole position, but it was a podium, A win for the team.
Charles should be happy, but without you there ready to congratulate him, it almost felt as though he had crossed at the back of the race.
Removing the steering wheel, and climbing out standing on the halo He waved to the cameras, spotting himself appear on the big screen for the fans in the surrounding stand to watch in HD.
As he unclasped his helmet, his attention snagged back onto the screen, Max, had got the pole position, so it wasn't a surprise when the screen switched to show the inside of the garage, where members of the Red bull team were celebrating, what did surprise him though, was spotting your all too familiar figure there amongst the other team.
Something about the notion made his blood boil, you looked slightly uncomfortable, but what tipped everything over was the jacket you wore, Hugging it too yourself in some version of comfort, and Charles knew exactly who it belonged too.
☽ - Y/n - ☾
You had emerged onto the throng of people moving about, trying to get a glimpse of the drivers who were taking in the feeling of their wins.
Getting closer to the barrier you spotted the red suit, just as he began storming toward the leading driver,
Those around you also seemed to tune in, as Charles body language wasn't exactly one of model sportsman's ship.
He moved towards the Red bull driver, being faster you managed to find Fred, who convinced the security to pull you past the barrier.
Charles was gripping the underside of Max's helmet by the time you approached them, the poor dutchman hadn't even had a full explanation or even time to unattached his helmet.
You were too far away to hear what Charles was saying, which wasn't a bad thing as perhaps the camera might not hear it as well, as you don't think it was the nicest thing when Max roughly jerked his head away from Charles, using both hands to roughly push Charles away from himself.
There was members of staff between them faster then you could comprehend, pulling the two drivers apart.
Choosing in that second was more difficult then it should have been, moving towards Charles, you approached carefully, he met your stare and it seemed to harden as it snagged on the jacket, Max's jacket, still around your body.
The security stayed near but back off as Charles approached you, he didn't seem to heed the camera as he stopped inches fro you,
"Take it off. Now."
You jutted your chin up, "Don't think your exactly in the position to give commands,"
"Y/n.."
"Still need babysitting?" you didn't hide the veiled sarcasm in you voice didn't want to when reminded of the argument.
There was a pleading in his eyes when he looked back to you,
"Ma chérie" he bowed his head, reaching gently to take one of your hands, "I'm sorry, truly," he cut his words short, when you leaned up to kiss him.
You couldn't really stay too mad, not when he had just gotten a podium. The fact he didn't ignore you, was good enough, when you two had argued before it never really lasted too long, having history made it easy to read one another. Provided there was communication.
He rested his forehead to yours, "Take it off."
You pulled back, looking to him now in slight confusion. Charles gave the back of Max's jacket a gently tug,
"You're a Ferrari girl, red is your colour. Forever and always."
Without breaking the eye contact you now had going, no doubt the rolling cameras of fans and reporter were catching ever second of this, you peeled the sleeves of the jacket off behind your back, and when you finally turned around to walk to Max with it.
Charles took it from you, you watched him push it into the other drivers chest, grabbing a Ferrari jackets from Fred, he walked back to your side holding it to you,
"Here." his word left little room for discussion.
Once you had it one, Charles couldn't help but look you up and down, giving a quick nod of approval he left a quick kiss to your forehead before he rushed off to catch up with the other drivers,
You watched on, All throughout the after race ceremonies, Charles continued to watch you, admiring you in the jacket, his jacket.
Hugging you arms around yourself you snuggled into its warmth,
the Red one fit you better anyways.
1K notes · View notes
allysunny · 8 months
Note
Hello. Can I request a fic with Nanami and the reader? The reader has a toxic family and asks Nanami to be her fake boyfriend at the family meeting. If possible, it could be comforting.
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Faking it for the Family | Nanami Kento x Reader
Words: 5.5k
Warnings: Toxic family, mentions of weight (as in, berating and telling someone to watch what they eat), very rude comments from Reader's family, maybe some OOC Nanami? I don't know, you tell me! And please do warn if I forgot something :)
A/N: Aaaa my first Nanami request! I'm so excited about this! I love this man with my whole heart, he's my biggest anime crush of all time! Now, I do warn you, it's been a while since I've touched jjk (it was a traumatic experience, shibuya is my canon event), so if you think Nanami is OOC, then that might be why. But I can also see him being vocal when it comes to someone he cares about, protecting them and expressing his feelings - or at least trying to.
I hope I did your request justice! I'll be honest, I'm very fortunate to come from a very healthy and loving family, and don't quite know the dynamics a toxic one would have. Nevertheless, I did some research, and I hope you're happy with the final result! I also stayed up until like, 2am because I wanted to post this one before I went on a small vacation and stopped writing for a few days! Totally worth it!
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“Your what?”
“My boyfriend.” You repeated firmly.
Scratch that, you were scared shitless.
A few days ago, your mother had called you, asking (more like demanding you) to come see her. According to her, only “bad, ungrateful children” abandoned their parents. According to her, you were turning into a “bad, ungrateful child”.
“You don’t call, you don’t visit. It’s like we never did anything for you, is that how you treat the people who brought you up?” She nearly cried into the phone. Victim-blaming was along your mother’s strongest talents, it always had been.
She’d also reminded you that it would be a shame if you showed up single. She gushed about your cousins, how lovely their wives and husbands were, and how you clearly weren’t working hard enough to find a man.
“It’s not like you have much to offer, dear. The least you could do is prove yourself to be useful, make sure you find a nice man and snatch him up. Perhaps if you learned how to cook properly instead of pursuing that silly passion for books… And you need to start putting some effort into your appearance! No man wants a dishevelled woman – look at how well your cousins are doing!” Then, dismissing her whole behaviour, she’d go, “You know I’m only saying this because I care about you, right? It’s for your own good.”
It made you shudder just from thinking of it.
You’d nearly glared a hole into your phone that night, considering cancelling.
You ran all options through your head.
If you pretended you were sick, your mother would just assume you couldn’t take care of yourself and visit you to do that herself.
Hard pass.
If you said you had plans, your father would tell you to prioritize the family who had sacrificed so much to give you a good life, and to stop being so selfish.
Hell no.
No option seemed good enough.
In the end, your parents would always find a way to make you feel inferior and blame you for not being able to attend. You wouldn’t hear the end of it for at least a few months.
That’s not something you wanted for yourself.
You considered your mother’s words.
Going alone seemed like a nightmare alright. But perhaps if you found someone to attend with you…
There was no significant other in your life (the nail in your coffin, just another reason for your parents to berate you, and you it’s not like you could fall in love with someone in a span of 4 days just to introduce them to the family.
And then, an e-mail from a coworker gave you a brilliant idea.
Nanami Kento was one of your coworkers.
You weren’t the closest offriends, but still – friends.
You two went out for drinks after work every so often, sometimes ordering a box of pizza to share while working overtime at the office. God knew how much you hated it, being forced to work longer than expected, but Nanami shared the same sentiment, and it made work more bearable for you.
You didn’t talk much outside of work – Nanami was a private, reserved man, and you never did have the courage to seek him out. So you settled for a few jokes at the office here and there, the occasional smile, and bringing him bread and pastries sometimes. Nanami was quite the foodie. Outside office hours, maybe a “Have a nice weekend”, or if you were feeling brave enough, a meme – it took him a while to get them, but it was amusing to get his reaction through text.
He was smart, kind to a fault, and handsome. Very much so. You knew he was single, and to be fair, you had no idea why. With those lovely, warm chocolate brown eyes and golden hair, he could get any woman he wanted. And God, his physique… You had once tripped and held onto his arm – the man was made of rock. He was a total catch, and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about your little overtime endeavours to end up with a goodnight kiss, or perhaps something more. In fact, you’d developed a little crush on him, sneaking away during lunch breaks to try and talk to him, catch up, or just know how he’s doing.
That’s why he was perfect.
Your parents would be appeased, and the family gathering would be much more bearable.
“It’ll just be for a night,” You continued, trying not to sound very desperate. You weren’t sure where you stood with him – were you two close enough to ask such a favour? “We don’t have to do anything physical – just maybe hold hands so they can get off my back. I’ll be forever in your debt, please. I need your help.”
Nanami looked at you curiously. You could see his eyes clearly – Nanami had foregone his glasses during lunch break. What was he thinking? Perhaps he was reconsidering his whole friendship / acquaintanceship. Maybe he was simply coming up with a way of politely declining. Nanami had always been to kind to trifle with you or mock you, God, you’re so stupid, why would he go out of his way to help someone he’s not that close with? It was idiotic to ask.
“Never mind that.” You mumbled, quickly shaking your hand, and dismissing the idea. “I’m sorry, I know it’s a weird request and we don’t know each other that well, and – “
“Sure.”
Your eyes must’ve turned as wide as saucers. Sure?
“If it would help you out and ease your mind, I don’t mind it at all.” He replies, the soft lull of his hypnotising voice making your heart skip just a bit. “I do know what it feels like to be surrounded by people you’re not fond of.”
You suppose he’s right. Every year when the company dinner takes place, you find yourself sitting in a corner, hidden from everyone else. It’s the one time of year where you two can actually talk and consider each other more than simply two coworkers. Maybe even relatively good friends.
You beam at him, bowing profusely. There were no words to describe what you felt – this man was willing to be your fake boyfriend for a whole evening?
“Thank you so much! This means so much to me, you can’t even imagine it!”
Nanami simply nods.
“Shall I pick you up at seven?”
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Most often, people stared at themselves in the mirror to check their appearance, try on clothes, maybe give them an ego boost. You? You were practicing facial features.
A hard smile for when your mother told you to “Eat less – you’re gaining weight.”
A polite nod for when one father eventually said “You need to give up those silly hobbies of yours – become a real woman, a good wife.”
A dry chuckle for when one of your many cousins gushed about the wonders of marriage, and how amazing it is they got married so young, to fully explore all romantic bliss and life alongside your soulmate – or something. You never made it twenty seconds without appearing bored of your mind and making your way to an empty chair away from others.
You just hoped they’d leave you alone for tonight, or at least stop with the comments. You wouldn’t be able to handle being humiliated in front of Nanami, of all people.
Speaking of, it’s nearly seven, so you grab your purse and make your way downstairs. Your outfit is nothing bland, just like how your parents would like it. A simply yellow jumper and denim jeans – God forbid you wore a skirt too short, or a shirt too flashy in front of your family. You’d be sure to burn at the stake for that one. This outfit was simple and modest and was sure to keep them quiet for a few minutes.
A little ring from your phone broke your line of thinking.
From: Nanami Kento
I’m outside.
You quickly spotted him in his car, and your jaw hung.
He swiftly exited the vehicle, walking towards the passenger’s side and opening the door wide for you.
You don’t know what to say.
So, he does it for you.
“Good evening.” He’s looking extra dashing, with a dark blue polo shirt that hugs his figure ever-so-perfectly, and slacks. His hair is parted as usual, but it seems much more casual, less uptight, less professional. He’s once more refused to wear his glasses, so you can see his beautiful face up close.
His strong jawline, the strong planes of his face, the thin eyebrows that never did much to conceal his eyes – he looked straight out of a fairytale. The fact that he looked so relaxed, out of his business attire and clad in casual clothes, made this vision much more alluring.
“Hey,” You answered, giving him a soft smile. “You didn’t have to do this; I could open the door by myself.”
“Nonsense.” Nanami shook his head, gesturing to the inside of the car. “Shall we go?”
As soon as you buckled your seatbelt, he left the driveway. You’d sent him the coordinates before, so there was no getting lost as long as you followed the GPS.
There was a small awkward silence between the both of you – it was only normal. You and Nanami didn’t hang out that much after office hours, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that you would have no topics to discuss.
“So…” You started wearily. Might as well warn him about your family. There was no way you were letting this man meet them without being prepared. “I should warn you in advance – my family is…. Well, they’re not conventional.”
“Hm? How so?” He questioned you, quirking an eyebrow yet never taking his eyes off the road.
“They… They might make some rude comments. Or say things that make you uncomfortable. I know I told you about it the other day when I asked for this favour, but I just want to reiterate it. They’re… Well, they’re hard to deal with.” You finished. There was no other way to describe your family.
Growing up, they’d been all but supportive. Berating you left and right, making you believe you were as worthless as the trash on the street. Nothing you did ever amounted to anything. Your grades were never enough. Your passions were always overlooked – the books you read “filled your head with crazy fantasies”, the music you listened to “polluted your mind”.
If you left the house with no makeup on, your mother would assume you weren’t trying hard enough. Would say you looked sloppy and dirty, and that it was shameful to see you not even attempt to pull yourself together. And when you did leave the house looking pretty and proud of yourself, your parents would break down your confidence once more, assuring you that you’re clearly trying too hard, and that men don’t want woman who paint their faces as if they were clowns and dressed in skirts so short, they barely earned the name.
Your achievements didn’t matter. Not when your cousins earned scholarship after scholarship, brought home successful, handsome men or women, assuring the family they were well off and didn’t need to worry about much.
To your family, all it mattered was your image. To them, you were the black sheep of the family. No partner, no children, no high paying job, no success. Considering their mentality, how they still associated themselves with you was a puzzle.
Not even once did they stop to consider your feelings.
Moving out had been the best thing that happened to you.
Sure, it was hard at first.
You spent too long in front of the mirror, wondering if you looked good enough. While conversing with others, it was difficult to open up about your passions and hobbies, for fear of being shut down and dismissed.
But slowly, you’d regained control of your life. You went out when you wanted, with who you wanted. You wore the clothes you liked, without worrying about your parents’ hurtful remarks.
Nowadays when you looked in the mirror, you saw a proud young woman, as opposed to the scared little girl you saw in your early years.
Which made returning to them ever so difficult. They managed to turn you back into that frightened little girl you once were, always so afraid of saying the wrong thing, of doing the wrong thing and making them look bad. They managed to destroy all of the confidence and self-love you’d built for yourself all these years.
“I’m sorry.”
It was Nanami’s voice that brought you back to reality.
“Huh?”
“I’m sorry. Clearly, a family that treats you that way does not deserve you.” He said, matter-of-factly. Like it was the easiest thing in the world, to admit the family that spent years breaking you simply wasn’t worth your time and thoughts.
“Yeah, well.” You mumbled, looking out of the window. What could you say? In theory, you knew he was right. He had to. Other friends who knew about your past told you as much. But it was a completely different story to put that into practice.
For the rest of the ride, a silence fell upon the both of you. None attempted to break it.
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“Remember our story, right?” You questioned the man next to him. He stood right next to you, tall as a tower and just as unmoving. You could never guess what was going on in that beautiful head of his.
Nanami nodded silently, turning to you.
“Are you sure you want to do this? We can make up an excuse and leave, if you want to.” He said, and for a while, you considered it. It’d be nice to ditch on your family and spend some time with your coworker. But once again, you knew how this movie ended.
Sighing, you shook your head and gave him a weak smile.
“It’s okay. It’s just for one night.”
He nodded once again.
You took a deep breath and stepped forward, ringing the doorbell.
Almost immediately, the door opened, making way for a woman none other than your mother.
She looked so… so… perfect. Annoyingly so. It made your blood boil. It reminded you of how, in her eyes, you were most definitely not perfect.
Nanami glanced at the woman in front of you. She looked like a perfect copy of you. Or rather, you were a perfect copy of her. But there was a clear difference between the two: While she looked uptight, abnormally prim, and proper, way too polished, you looked, well, natural. This woman looked like her only job was to look good, while you were an effortless beauty. He can only imagine what kind of things a woman like this could’ve told you all your life to make you so nervous back in the car.
“Honey!” She chirps in a voice he can only describe as fake. “Oh, how I’ve missed you!” She pulls you win for a hug, mumbling and muttering about how long it had been since you’d last seen her, how unkind of you that was, how you had no consideration for your family. Ouch.
“Hi mom,” Was your hushed answer as you tried your best to hug her back. And then just as quickly, tried to get away from her bone-crushing embrace. “Y-You can let go now.”
And she did, staring right at Nanami.
“Oh.” She very obviously stared at him up and down. There was no subtlety to the way she ogled him, and you felt some strong second-hand embarrassment from her actions. “And who might this fine young man be? Did you finally step up and get yourself a nice man?”
You sighed. This was going to be a very, very long night.
Nanami stepped forward, placing a warm hand on the small of your back, a hand that slowly brought you closer to him.
“Good evening, Mrs.” He said politely, offering his hand for the woman to shake. She did so gladly, showing him a perfect smiled. A perfectly forced smile. “It’s lovely to meet you.”
“Mom, this is Nanami Kento. He’s… He’s my boyfriend!” The words felt nice in your mouth, natural. It’s like he was meant to be your boyfriend. Boyfriend. That’s nice.
“Boyfriend! Oh! It’s so nice to meet you!” The woman exclaimed, pulling him inside. “Come in, come in! Of course, you’d be late – We were all waiting for you!”
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When you told Nanami your family was harsh, he was picturing something very different. Maybe some unwanted jokes here and there. A comment about your major, a joke about your driving, maybe even some embarrassing childhood stories.
He wasn’t expecting this.
“It is such a surprise that our dearest [Y/N] has finally brought someone home!” Your mother announced, sending her daughter what Nanami thought was a rather sheepish smile. “I mean, at some point we thought we would be the family’s spinster, ha!” And then she sent you the most condescending smile, one that made you want to crawl into a hole and cry. Not even after discovering you have a boyfriend (well, a fake one, but she doesn’t need to know), your mother could be supportive.
“Well, I’ve always been full of surprises,” You retaliate bluntly with a tight-lipped line. Nanami slowly brought his hand under the table to squeeze yours, and when you faced him, you were met with a look that meant more than a thousand words. Stay strong. I’m with you, he seemed to silently say.
“Kento – mind if I call you Kento?” Your father interrupted loudly, not sparing you a glance. “What do you do for a living?”
“I’m a salaryman. I work in the same office as [Y/N].” Was Nanami’s response. You cringed at your father’s attempt to talk more familiarly with Nanami. It felt odd, it felt rigid, and you just knew what question would follow.
“Ah, I see. Well, I sure do hope you’re at least winning more than our [Y/N] here!” The older man blurted, shaking his head in disappointment. “We told her to focus on her studies, make sure she has a nice paying job by the time she finds a husband, but she instead decided to pursue those… hobbies of her, and ended up with a mediocre office job.” Then, as if his rude observation meant nothing, he added, “No offense. I’m sure you’re a hard-working young man, you should aim higher and consider a career in a more lucrative field. Have you tried investing, or finances? If you want to provide a better future for my daughter, you should be prepared.”
Great, now not only was he making rude comments towards you, but he was also making rude comments towards your “boyfriend”. When would this end?
“Dad.” You cut in, scowling at him. How dare he ask such questions?
“What?” He asked, shrugging. As if these types of discussions were as casual as small talk or mentions of weathers. “I need to make sure that this man will provide for you. After all, you refused to go and do something useful with your life – “
“I think what [Y/N] has done of her life is for her, and only her to decide.” Nanami chimed in. “And as her parents, you should be nothing but supportive. It’s not up to you to decide what’s useful or not.” Your cheeks warmed at that. He sounded so clear and straightforward. He managed to do, within minutes, what you had been too afraid to do your whole life.
Your father seemed to dismiss what Nanami had said, waving his hand about and muttering some incomprehensible gibberish.
While your mother fetched the main plate, the room was filled with light chatter. Nanami leaned towards you, lips softly brushing the shell of your ear. It made your heart leap to have him so close.
“You’re right. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make it through the whole dinner without throwing a plate at any of their faces.” He mumbled, hand still squeezing yours tightly. This small comment earned a chuckle from you, and Nanami smiled at the response. To anyone else watching, you two looked like a lovesick couple engaging in some light banter and gossip.
“Ah! Here it is!” Your mother gleamed, bringing in pots and pans full of curry rice, udon noodles, miso soup, and some other side dishes you couldn’t see. For all you disliked your family, you couldn’t lie – family gatherings had the best food. You had once tried to learn how to cook from your mother, but after two failed commands (in her opinion) and a whole lot of yelling, you gave up.
“You should try the curry,” you told Nanami, holding your plate securely to pour some of the food on it. “She might be a witch sometimes, but her curry is to die for.” This last part was only but a whisper, and it got Nanami to smile crookedly.
God, you loved to see him smile.
At the office he always looked so serious, so tense. Nanami hated working overtime, and no matter how nice the company you kept each other ways, you could still see the exhaustion taking over him most days, rendering him cold and distant.
Here, though?
He seemed relaxed to a fault. As relaxed as he could be in a situation like this.
“Honey!” There was your mother again. Great, you were starting to miss her unnecessary statements! “Are you seriously going to eat all of that?” She inquired, looking particularly scandalised and attempting to reach your plate.
“Yes, I am. Why? Is there a problem?” You tried to sound brave, but Nanami was quick to notice the shake in your voice and the way your hand trembled in his.
“Oh, well, honey, I just think you should be careful! Don’t wanna put on any weight, do you? I’m sure Kento here wouldn’t want you to gain some extra pounds.”
Ah, this woman clearly made a mistake.
Nanami cleared his throat and made a poor attempt at trying to conceal the anger in his voice.
“I assure you ma’am, that is the least of my concerns.” He asserted and removed your plate from the woman’s hands. “Your daughter looks amazing, and if she’s happy with herself, so am I. In fact, I think she looks particularly breathtaking this evening, don’t you? You must be so proud.”
He’d pushed your parents into a corner, and all they could do was stammer and babble and look around for any help from their relatives – help that did not come.
“I’m quite the lucky man.” Nanami gave your parents the same kind of pretentious, fake smile they gave to him, and dug into his food.
And what else could you do but smile? Mouthing a quick “thank you”, you decided to get to eating as well. Seeing your parents so flustered had given you a kind of confidence you hadn’t felt in years, not in front of them, and it felt good.
For a few godly minutes, everything seemed to go well.
You were enjoying your food, and Nanami was exchanging pleasantries with some of your cousins. It seemed almost normal, the way it was going. Your cousin Ichigo and his wife, who were both ten years older than you were particularly interested in discussing the best kinds of liquors with your friend. Hiroshi tried to rope him into a talk of cars, and Makoto expressed his hatred towards overtime.
It felt too good to be true.
Probably because it was.
After dinner, you were the first to get on your feet to help clear the table. The quicker you did it, the quicker you could get the hell out of that place.
You were loading the dishwasher, distracted by the background noise of the chatter and the news that played in the television, when your cousin Emiko approached. Emiko was her parents’ pride and joy. Unnaturally beautiful, she had no real talent other than looking pretty and finding a rich man. It didn’t matter – the family loved her for it, and you’d spent your whole entire life being compared to her.
“So! ‘Cus, do tell us, how much did you pay for him?” She asked coyly. There was something poisonous laced in her words. You supposed it was jealousy – despite being seated near her husband, Emiko had spent the entire evening studying Nanami, running her eyes through his broad shoulders and sharp cheekbones, no doubt drooling.
You sighed. There was never much you could do about Emiko. You either ignored her words or played into her traps, and both options tested your patience gravely.
“I did not pay him, Emiko. Nanami and I have been dating for a while now.” You replied casually. Somehow, you could still feel tingles where his hand had previously been. On your hand, on your waist. The memory of his lips against your ear elicited a full-body shiver from you. “And I’ll remind you that he’s just next door, so please be considerate.”
“Come on, no one else’s in here, you don’t have to pretend.” Emiko peeked at you. When she saw no visible reaction, she sighed, waving her hand around dismissively and rolling her eyes at you before turning to face the kitchen door. “Come on, lighten up. It was a joke. But you have to understand – you were never something to look at, were you?” She snickered, taking a big gulp of her wine right after. “How’d you manage to snatch up a guy like this?”
You were done.
This comment had been the final straw.
You knew Emiko to be mean, but this? Assuming you had to pay for a handsome man’s company, simply because she didn’t deem you as attractive? As interesting?
Were you simply not worthy of love?
You felt tears prickling at the corner of your eyes, but before you could try to come up with a reply, a familiar voice interrupted you.
“Actually, it was I who managed to snatch her up.” Nanami was standing by the doorframe, casting you the warmest, most lovely, most caring gaze ever. You felt warm to be looked like that, like you were the most precious thing in the world to this man. “I got lucky. When we first started dating, I wondered how the hell such an interesting, beautiful woman would ever look at me.” A small chuckle. “I still do – I don’t feel like I’m worthy of her.”
Emiko was speechless. She just stared from you to Nanami, from Nanami to you, her words somehow losing their power after this confession.
You looked at Nanami and quickly wiped away the tear that threatened to spill. Seeing this, he walked over to you, pulling you closer by the waist.
“I think you’re wrong, Emiko.” He continued, not even sparing her a second glance as his hand lifted your chin up with the gentleness of someone who holds the entire world in their hands. “Not something to look at? I mean… Look at her. How could I ever be deserving of such a beautiful woman?”
You felt heat radiate from his body, and as if it was second nature, you cupped his jaw with your hands. He was so close, so impossibly close. You could make out every single one of his eyelashes, the bags under his eyes caused by sleepless nights working, the eyebrows that were usually furrowed and deep in thought – Nanami Kento was beautiful.
And according to him, so were you.
He searched in your eyes for any kind of signal. A yes, a no. A simply gesture that could change the rest of your night (and perhaps the course of your, well, relationship forever).
It was almost imperceptible when you nodded, meeting his gaze through lidded eyes.
So he dipped his head, and softly caught his lips with yours.
You’d fantasized about this once or twice. But nothing could’ve prepared you for the real deal. Nanami was a good kisser. His lips moved effortlessly around yours, molding like he had been kissing you for years. The hand at your waist brought you close, close, impossibly close, so close that you couldn’t think of getting away – good. Nanami didn’t want you to ever leave his side.
And you kissed him back just as tenderly, afraid to ruin the moment. Your tongue swiped shyly across his bottom lip, and he gave you one of his signature smiles – reserved, contained, but 100% him.
Behind him, he could hear Emiko scoff and leave the kitchen. Perfect. He didn’t want a crowd anyways.
After pulling away for air, Nanami studied your face attentively.
Your eyes were wide and bright, sparkling with what seemed like magic. He wanted to kiss every inch of your face – your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips. He wanted to kiss your soft, plush lips again and again and again. Thank God you’d invited him to be your fake boyfriend. Nanami had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to ask you out, and while this wasn’t the most conventional date, he was known for being efficient and straightforward.
“Let’s get out of here. You deserve to be kissed somewhere else.” He mumbled in that raspy voice of his that did things to you. You nodded and held his hand as he led you through the corridors.
The goodbyes were ushered, and the promises to call and come back soon were very blatantly fake. Your parents, however charmed by this man at first glance, refused to hide their scowls at this point. They did not like being contradicted. Neither did your cousins – or rather, the ones that had giggled and whispered and made smaller comments at the beginning like “Wow [Y/N], such a miracle, you finally found someone!” and “Oh, Nanami-san, when you get tired of her, please do call us – we’ll be waiting! What? It was a joke, don’t be such a downer!”.
The ride home had been quiet. Peaceful.
You refused to let Nanami go, and he refused to let you go, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to complain when he placed his big palm on top of your thigh as he drove.
Then, as you arrived to your place, he walked you to the door, silently holding onto your hand.
You gazed up at him, and then at the floor.
“So…” Why were words so hard?
You wanted to ask him a million questions. Why had he kissed you? Had he liked it? Did it mean something to him? Was it just a distraction? Is your friendship ruined?
“I hope you know it is not true.”
“Huh?” You met his eyes.
“Everything they said.” Nanami refused to let go of your hand, drawing slow circles with his thumb. “It’s not true. You’re the most fantastic woman I’ve ever known. You’re beautiful, and smart, and talented, and kind, and so many other things that I want to say but can’t find the words to.” He’d never been good with his words. But you thought he was doing a pretty good job.
Then, he shook his head, running a hand through his now slightly ruffled hair. “I wish I was better at this. My point is – you’re remarkable, [Y/N]. The way you care for others, the way you’re so unapologetically you, the way you’re not afraid to speak your mind and be heard. Those are all admirable qualities. If your family can’t see that, then it’s their fault.”
You could just stare at him in awe.
“If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out. On a date, an actual date. Not just some simple last-minute overtime office dinner. A proper date, just you and me.”
A date? With him?
“You can say no if you want to. I won’t force you. But I’d like to take you out for dinner. Or lunch. Or anything you want, basically, I –“ He sighed once again. “Point is. I really like you, [Y/N]. I know, I know, we don’t know each other that well, and I don’t expect you to return my feelings, but –“
“I really like you too.” You blurted out without thinking. So, all of this time, your feelings hadn’t been one sided? He too felt the same as you? All those nights at the office, all those small interactions, making the workplace an easier place to deal with, all of the jokes and giggles and antics – he cherished them too? “And I… I’d love to go out for dinner. Or lunch. Or whatever you want, really! The point is,” You gather yourself, smiling like a fool. “I’d really love to go on a date with you.”
In that exact same moment, while you and Nanami smiled at each other like two shy teenagers, the only witness to your awkward confessions being the moon and the lights from the city above you, you didn’t think of yourself as unworthy, as dumb, and useless and a no-good child. The hurtful comments made by your family were far, far away, like they’d happened a lifetime ago.
You saw yourself the way he did. Remarkable. Kind, talented, beautiful, and oh so worthy of love.
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A/N: That's it! I hope you liked it! I love this man so much hehe he deserves all the fics! Thank you for the lovely request, I'm so glad I got to finally start writing for Nanami instead of simply reading!
Have an amazing day everyone! <3
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captain-mj · 2 months
Text
The Journal
I don't know. Cw: Ghost's backstory
Soap found the unassuming book on his desk. The edges of the paper had turned slightly yellow and they were clearly flipped through quite often. He frowned at it, wondering who went into his room and set this there. It felt... almost threatening.
Soap gently opened the book to look at the first page.
I'm writing this journal as a "therapy" exercise. Frankly I think it's fucking bollocks. I'm fine. I dream about nothing.
Well. That wasn't very helpful. The handwriting was odd. Almost scrawling, like the person who was writing had shaky hands but also couldn't be bothered to hold the pen properly.
Soap frowned. This seemed a rather personal thing to give to a person. But it was in his room.
Just one more page.
Apparently I'm supposed to introduce myself. Fine. My name is Simon Riley. I belong to the SAS. I was a POW for a couple of months. I keep hearing numbers but none of them feel right. I think parts of me are still down there.
I hurt. Everywhere. Especially when people touch me. I can't sleep. Can barely eat. My mum is worried. So does Tommy. I want to tell them to fuck off. I have. But they keep worrying. I wonder if this is how Beth felt.
On the page was a polaroid. A baby faced Simon with nasty scars on his face, still fresh and angry. He looked half dead. Dark circles under his eyes and an expression nothing like his usual. Someone had their hand on his shoulder, but he could only see their arm.
Soap sucked in a breath. There was no way Ghost gave this to him. No fucking way.
He got up and grabbed the book, going straight for Ghost's quarters, planning on returning it immediately and pretending he had found it and couldn't find Price to turn it in.
Ghost's quarters were empty. His knives were missing, but his clothes were still there, meaning he was on a mission.
Fuck.
Soap paused and tapped his foot. He wasn't sure if Price was around. How did someone get this? If he left it in his room, he was worried someone would find it. He'd have to keep it. Just to be sure.
Soap set it back on his desk. When he saw Price, he'd talk to him.
After a minute of staring at it, Soap shoved the book into a drawer and closed it tight. He left to talk to Gaz to distract himself for a few hours.
Gaz was nice enough to tell him that Ghost and Price were on a mission together and that they wouldn't be back for a few days.
No big deal.
A few days with a book that potentially had a lot of answers to some questions he had about Ghost.
Soap didn't make it the night before he was reading more pages. He never claimed to have great self control.
Good morning. I feel like a teen, writing in a diary. I've been put on new medication today. Supposed to help. It makes me dizzy for some reason.
My mum keeps making me tea. She wants to make sure I'm real. I see her hands hovering around me. If I wasn't such a shit son, I'd tell her she can hug me. The thought makes my skin crawl. I see her dead body in my dreams. I see the skull they said was hers. I want to tell her I'm okay, but I don't want to lie.
Soap felt sick. There was a drawing. It was crude, clearly done out of boredom and with no real care behind it. Soap was pretty sure it was a skull that was dripping something. Maybe blood. The ink was all black so there was no way to tell. "Mum" was written several times around it.
I dreamed about her again.
That caught Soap's attention. Her? Was Ghost into women? That seemed unlikely.
She used to speak so soothingly in spanish to me. I wonder if she was like me. Did Roba rape her too?
Soap shut the book and shoved it under his pillow. Enough of that. Nope. He didn't want to think of those words and what they meant.
Fucking too.
No.
No...
No!
The idea of something like that happening to his Lieutenant was... It just... didn't happen.
Soap pulled the book out and kept reading. Just... to prove it wasn't real.
I don't know. It's not a nice thought. Maybe I want someone else to hurt too. I tried to jack off the other day and ended up scrubbing myself raw afterward from how it made me feel. How pathetic right?
Not sure what this is doing. What benefit this has. I'm writing my thoughts. Trying to feel better. Tommy joked about me buying a hooker. I had a panic attack. it was like i was back in high school again. fucking baby.
There was a picture of someone, presumably Tommy, and Simon hanging out. They were both smoking and Tommy was making a sign with his hands. He had a giant grin on his face. Simon had a carved out Glasgow smile that looked like it hurt. Raw. it looked to be after the earlier polaroid. The dark circles hadn't gotten better, but there was more color and flesh in his face.
My mum wants me to talk to my dad. I don't know why. I don't know want to see him. Can't let him see me right now. Maybe when I'm recovered. Last time I saw him, I beat his ass. Doubt he's going to forgive me.
Bastard is pure evil. He gets off on hurting people. Got off on hurting me. I think he's trying to use the cancer as an excuse to get close to my mum again. I'll beat his ass again. I'm putting on more weight. I'll fucking do it.
There was a little stick man drawing labeled 'Simon' and 'Bitch' with Simon beating him to death. Soap thought the blood was rather well drawn, even if the stick figures wasn't.
As the week went on, he kept reading a few pages at a time. He learned... things.
Ghost liked Vanilla tea.
Ghost had been assaulted by more than one person.
Ghost's father had beaten him. A lot.
Ghost was scared of snakes.
Ghost loved his Mum.
Ghost hated most mystery movies.
Tommy was Ghost's brother and was the second most important in his life.
And that they were all dead. All of them.
He wrote an explanation of everything there. In a clinical, harsh detail.
I wish I had died down there in Mexico. I wish I had laid down in that grave and died. It's my fault. It's my fault. It's my fault.
It kept repeating and then he had just started over and wrote over the first layer.
Soap was crying. He couldn't help it. Tommy was so... young. Not to mention the descriptions Ghost gave of his family in general. The pages after that were mostly drawings or scribbles, all made with heavy hands.
Simon knocked. He could tell by the sound he made when he knocked. "Johnny?"
"When did you get back?"
"...Just now. Can I come in?"
"Yeah." Soap wiped his face so he'd look... normal. "Yeah come in."
Ghost stepped inside and saw the book. "Enjoy it?"
"What?"
"I left it for you."
"Why?"
Ghost hummed. "Thought it would be the easiest way to let you in."
Soap swallowed. "You don't do anything half assed do you?"
Ghost's eyes stared at him. Answer enough right there.
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quartzii122 · 3 months
Text
Random no context Levi Ackerman x reader
Levi looks at you, while raising an eyebrow, almost as if he's studying you trying to put the pieces together. His gray eyes dart between yours, he's obviously curious to know the real reason now. As you look back at him, you begin to feel nervous, his eyes looking directly into yours makes you have a bad urge to bite your nails. Your hand clenched to gain more confidence, you swallow hard as you prepare yourself for his reaction.
“I just.. I think about you a lot-“ You finally mutter out while looking all over to see how he processes it.
“Oh.” Is the only thing he manages to say, his mind blank in this situation, yet full at the same time.
Almost like his throat can work properly anymore. The only change was his eyes widening in surprise, he continues to look at you, letting your words sink in. You look away and continue to stay silent, the air grows thick as well. This whole situation just took an awkward turn as you both were left speechless. He slightly parts his lips, wanting to say more- or anything else for that matter, yet he can't find the right words. He looks to the floor.
The silence never felt so loud before, and all you wish for now is to either be shot in the heart by an arrow or the ground suddenly opens and swallows you whole. But you also can't help the feeling of.. regret. You regret even telling him, but you already knew beforehand that this whole thing was a gamble.
“It’s late- I should probably head back to my room..” You say awkwardly not even sparing him a glance.
Levi snaps out of his strange state and looks at the night sky, realizing how late it actually is.
“Yeah, it’s late.” He replies while shaking his head trying to play it off, but it's clear how tense the situation got.
You stand up from the ledge you were sitting on and so does he, yet you notice he isn't looking at you either, this little action pains you.
“Goodnight.” You say quietly as if you feel small.
The last glace toward Levi and he still hasn't even looked your way, like his eyes are glued to the floor. That was enough for you to run back inside, you begin walking to the large door you guys previously came from. Your eyes were set on it, so eager to hide away and escape this.
“Uhm..” Levi’s voice begins, seemingly shaky.
Almost like he doesn't know what to say but doesn't want to leave like this, but you look back anyway, curious for what else he has to say.
Levi takes a deep breath, turning around to face you, finally looking up from the ground. But it was only for a few seconds before looking away again, contemplating his words.
“I- um..” He struggles then forces himself to meet your eyes, and you swore you saw the slightest hint of pink on his cheeks.
“Do you like me?”
“.. You didn't gather that already?” You say bluntly, as you already thought he knew that's what you meant.
Levi freezes up at your words, staring straight at you with his lips parted. He wasn't expecting a reply like that, and obviously he was not prepared to hear that, he takes a moment to recover.
“Oh..”
You look away embarrassed that we are back to this again. And you watched as the little pink turned to full red, but he still attempts to hide his expression, he lowers his face and pretends to scratch his neck.
“Well.. I- uh.. I-.. I do like you.. you just caught me off guard” He says awkwardly clearly not knowing what to do.
You look back at him, completely flustered, but couldn't help but chuckle. You've rarely seen him like this, and it was adorable. But this makes him clear his throat and look away embarrassed. He doesn't know what to say, but it looks like he doesn't want to leave either. He just can't seem to get his emotions in check.
“I should get going n-“ Levi starts yet you cut him off by pressing your lips against his.
The sudden action makes him freeze, yet he slowly closes his eyes. But he was still tense, just kind of standing there but not pushing you away. You pull away and flutter your eyes open to meet his. guys hold eye contact for a moment, the only sound was your heavy breaths and pounding hearts.
He slightly shifts forward the tiniest bit, wanting to kiss you again, but it's clear he hasn't done anything like this before. You take the hint and press your lips against his once again, but this time he loosens up and actually returns the kiss. Your hand gently rests on his cheek, his is on the back of your neck and the other on your shoulder.
Your head tilts as you kiss him deeper, eager to release these feelings that grew inside you over the years. You slowly add in your tongue to the kisses and he accepts.
A jolt of excitement runs through his body as you enter your tongue. He meets yours as the kiss grows more passionate, the sensation is the best thing both of you have ever felt. Levi starts to slightly move his head to fit the shape of your lips, and his hands run down from your shoulders to your lower back, dragging on your spine as he does so, then squeezing in a tight hug. Due to his light squeeze, your body presses against him, yet you one up it and arch slightly to be fully on him. A moan escapes your lips as his lips hypothesize you, arousal filling your body.
As you press against him he does so as well, feeling the heat radiating through your clothes. You wrap your arm around his neck resting them in both of his shoulders, allowing him access to your body. Your bodies touch from your shoulders down to your waist, he groans as you rub against him. Levis hands roam your body, moving down past your waist where he squeezes your hips. A pleasurable noise escapes out of you from excitement, then corruptly pulls Away from his lips, instantly trying to catch her breath from the intense kiss. But then you immediately attack his neck, you kissed, nibbled, and sucked his neck
Levi's body feels like it's becoming a giant bundle of nerves all responding to your touch, the feeling of your lips on his neck drives him crazy. He starts to softly groan as his body feels a tingling sensation all down his body, but mostly in between. Suddenly you lick up his neck to his jawline where you lay more kisses along, Levi squirms as he tries to keep in his noises
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fatuismooches · 6 months
Note
FOR THE HARBINGERS
Reader telling them "I love you", and they either smile, fluster or say ilyt BUT reader is like " no you don't understand ". Grabs them by the shoulder, looks them dead straight in the eye and says it slowly once again. " I. Love. You." And proceed to say the most devoted, loving words about them and how reader is so in love, loyal and just. UGHHHH
Take it easy! Just bask into this idea, hope you don't stress over answering a bunch of (my 😭) asks!! Mwah mwah 💕💕 /p
OH I AM MORE THAN BASKING INTO THIS BECAUSE IT IS SO REAL!!!! We love a reader who is completely and utterly in love with their Harbingers <3 Pierro and Capitano are the ones who stay silent as you go on a whole tangent about how much you love them. Pierro retains his usual serious look, but you're so caught up with your words you may not notice how his face turns softer at your blatant declarations of devotion. Sure, he has a mountain of work to catch up on, but what kind of lover would he be if he didn't let his love rant their feelings out to him? He's not the most verbal or physically affectionate, but that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate it. I imagine he's been betrayed and such in the past, you know with Celestia and Khaenri'ah and all, so he deeply appreciates your words. Capitano... well, you can never really see his expression with that big helmet of his, so it's a bit hard to tell what he's thinking but don't worry!! His heart is beating quicker than usual and his mind is racing as to what to reply with!! Since when did you become so romantic and affectionate? He hasn't read enough romance advice books to respond properly yet! So Capitano just... pats your head and thanks you so sincerely it makes you giggle. He attempts to formally respond to your feelings via writing but he can't find the right words, unfortunately.
Dottore (that's who you're here for, I know) merely bursts into a laugh. No, he's not laughing at you, but he simply finds it a bit amusing. The idea of true devotion, of genuine loyalty, of real love... he still toys with those concepts a bit. He does feel these things toward you, but he won't verbalize them. Yet you don't seem to care about admitting those feelings toward him in the slightest... in fact, it seems like you jump at the chance to tell him how much you adore him... it's a bit funny to Dottore. Of course, he won't ever stop you, he does enjoy being worshipped and loved by you. Akademiya Zandik, on the other hand, would probably fight you off and then storm away to hide his blushing cheeks. How dare you say such idiotic things to him and how dare you make his heart thump hard at such stupid words. Pantalone too, except it's less of a laugh and more of a few chuckles. He's the kind of person to smile and nod at everything you say, completely enamored by you. He'll stop you in the middle and ask you to elaborate on a specific part and you happily do, he's stroking his own ego at this point but how can you blame him? His darling is being far too cute for him not to want to tease them a bit!
Columbina and Childe are very excited and blushy over it. They adore it when you're so open with them! Columbina's smile is even larger than usual as she hums in agreement with everything you're saying. Yes, please keep adoring her like this. She loves hearing about how much you love her. She's quite open with her feelings toward you too, so to hear it reciprocated so plainly? Pure bliss for her! Childe too is similar, you can literally see how he lights up and a faint blush spreads across his cheeks when you flatter him with such praise. But not for too long, because he'll pick you up and tease you ten times harder. Trying to get on his good side, hmm? Well, he'll have you know he loves you far more than you ever cold. Occasionally, he gets worried about whether it's right to be with you since he's in the Fatui, so these kinds of messages are secretly quite reassuring to him.
Arlecchino and Signora are very elegant and smooth about it. They watch you with a knowing smile, hands tracing over your collarbone and up to your neck and chin... a finger combing through your hair. Arlecchino is still a quiet and reserved woman, she still doesn't say much after your confession, but she is very pleased. Kisses you and gives you a sincere thank you. In her line of work, it's not often she find someone as loyally passionate as you are. Much less someone she loves to the deepest depths of her heart. She knows that you'll never betray or stab her in the back, and she shall never do that to you either. Signora is more smug and teasing about it. Oh? You truly love her that much? How about you show her it too? She ends up flustering you despite you being the one throwing all these sweet words at you. She truly loves being pampered by you, she needs it after all with all of the heartache she went through with her last lover, who she was abruptly cut off from.
Scaramouche and Sandrone short circuit for a few moments before springing back to life, stuttering and berating you for such stupidity and hurriedly breaking free from your grip. They can't deal with such loving words being directed towards them, especially unprompted. Scaramouche's expression is one that you have imprinted in your memory, the uncharacteristic redness and slack jaw, before he becomes his usual Scara self and launches into a long speech about how clingy and strange you were and that you should never do that ever again lest he actually get mad (this is a plea for you to confess all of that again, despite his adamant protest... you know he loves being loved, a feeling that always seemed to slip away from him. He's hesitant about it but he can't deny the rush of his "heart" when he hears your sincere words.) Sandrone's face is just blank. Blank like a robot. She opens her mouth to speak and then closes it, and then opens it again but she's at a loss for words. She finally gets out a half-hearted insult and ends up stuttering halfway through, so that's already not a good look for her. It seems even her usual bad attitude can't keep up when assaulted with such genuine affection...
And... Papanella can get a little platonic kiss on the cheek while you thank him for being the best grandad.
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dabislittlemouse · 7 months
Text
tainted angel 🪽 (pt.7)
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PART 6// PART 8 // THE COMPLETE MASTERLIST
ෆ DABI X HAWKS’ LITTLE SISTER
ෆ cw in this chapter ‼️: NSFW, breaking in, noncon, cunnilingus, fingering, edging MDNI +18, this is her POV.
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The night was restless.
After a long exhausting day, my body and mind still wouldn’t find rest and relax the whole time. I decided to keep watch at least until 2am, before falling asleep eventually. Staying up the whole night was not a choice. Though from time to time I’d wake up on different hours at night, my heart pumping fast and my body sweating, my eyes searching through the darkness, ready to find someone lurking around or in the balcony. I’d get up and look outside just in case. Though nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The backyard was empty, not a single soul walking by on the dimly lit streets, nothing suspicious.
Dabi was nowhere to be seen.
Now it’s been three nights in a row that I keep watch, I didn’t get proper rest while I anxiously wait and prepare myself for anything to happen. My mind keeps replaying the words he wrote on that note over and over again, and the flowers. He told me he’d see me soon. But he hasn’t appeared anywhere. My windows and doors remain locked, but I don’t feel safe at all. I can’t even find a way to contact him and tell him to fuck off, he always called me through an unknown number, with no way to trace him further.
Maybe he never stalked me in the first place? Maybe he just wanted to mess with me, play mind games and keep me awake at night for no reason. As a revenge for cutting him off probably. What a fucking jerk…
As long as the doors and windows are properly locked, I should be in fact safe. That’s what I tell myself. I decide to give up for good, I can’t keep watch the whole week. Even if someone tried to break in, it would make a noise, loud enough to wake us up. Still, maybe I should take one of my brother’s feathers just in case, he is fast enough to come over and catch the culprit once his feathers sense danger nearby.
It’s now the fourth night. I am not able to keep watch anymore as I fall into a deep sleep, completely unaware of what could be going on around me.
Strange dreams occur as the hours of the night pass by. I keep seeing fragments of his face, his irresistibly handsome face and those piercing blue eyes that captivated me entirely. I see him, I see Dabi in my dreams, I can feel his scarred hands touching my body just like they did that night at the park. His fingers tracing my skin, giving me goosebumps all over as he proceeds to go further. His hands are pretty and veiny, I have the urge to suck on his fingers. I can’t talk, all I can do is moan out for him to go further. His hands play with my now drenched panties, his fingers pressing softly against my clit. I can’t move, I can’t talk. Everything in this dream felt too real, the warmth of his hands on my body and inner thighs, spreading my legs apart as he plays with my clothed cunt. This dream..is making me more needy for him.
This is not a dream.
My eyes struggle to open, a strange feeling is enveloping my body while I try to get back to reality after that heated dream. I try to move, but I can’t. My breathing is erratic and I’m sweating. The room is completely dark while I try to look at my surroundings.
My hands..
They are tied up against the bedframe. The chains pressed against my wrists while I struggle to get free. Not many seconds pass by until I feel a heavy weight on top of me.
Between my legs.
“About time you woke up, sleeping beauty~”
The familiar raspy voice sends a shiver down my spine. My eyes are now wide open, panic flowing in my blood as I look down: I see him in the darkness, right between my legs, his face inches away from my clothed cunt, grinning at me while his eyes shine bright under the moonlight.
I let out a scream, but he is quick to bring a hand and shut my mouth up.
“Ah, ah.. no screamin’ now” Dabi smirks as he looks at the terrified expression on my face, his hand firm on my mouth. “Told ya’ I’d come back, really missed you sweetheart”
My heart is pumping out of my ribcage and tears form in my eyes. How did he get inside? Will he hurt me?
“You make such pretty sounds when I touch you like this..can’t wait to get more of this sweet cunt of yours.. been dying for a taste” he whispers, bringing up a finger to rub on my clit through my panties. I realise he’s been doing this as I was asleep. I feel myself arching at his touch, my face flushed from embarrassment while I shake my head in denial.
He chuckles. “C’mon.. can’t lie to me now, not when you’re so fuckin’ wet down there.. shit”
He begins doing circular motions and that feeling envelops me again, a strange sense of pleasure that almost has my eyes rolling back.
“Let’s get these off now.. hold still for a minute” he orders as he grabs the hem of my panties. Without wasting a second, his fingers lit up in blue flames. So close my sensitive area I’m hyperventilating and shaking in fear, but his firm grip keeps me in place. I see the way flames burn my panties slowly, before he completely tears them off my body.
“I said hold still,” he says sternly. “Don’t want to burn this pussy before tasting it- ah, won’t you look at that~”
I squeeze my eyes shut while his gaze falls on my bare cunt, his face is so dangerously close. It feels so uncomfortable having him like this on my intimate area, I want to scream and cry so loud.
“Awwh, someone’s shy” Dabi teases. “Don’t be, baby. Fuck, I’m almost salivating.. this is way better than I imagined”
His warm finger slowly drag up and down my wet folds, I am already squirming under his touch. I look back at him, his eyes filled with lust are focused on the mess between my legs and then back at my face. He slowly teases me, knowing too well that my body likes this, seeing at the way I react.
I don’t want this, it’s beyond fucked up, he is a creep, he broke into my house and touching me without my consent, he might even hurt me- but why do I need more of this?
“You’re thinkin’ too much” he suddenly slaps my pussy and I let out a muffed scream. “You thought you could get rid of me that easily, angel? So focused on your studies, let me teach you something new to focus on”
He dips a finger inside my tight hole, slowly going deeper and then bringing it out, before inserting it again. In and out, he keeps doing this for a while as he gets pleasure from the way I’m squirming underneath him. His palm presses against my clit, moving it slowly and the friction has my hips stuttering. He adds another finger, scissoring and reaching deep inside of me.
“Yeah? You like this?” he whispers, the movements getting faster and then slower on purpose. “Imagine what your beloved brother would say if he knew how needy this pussy is for me”
My face heats up in anger and shame as I furiously try to pull on the chains that are holding my hands tied, but no avail.
“You’re so sexy when you’re angry angel, need to do this more often..” he chuckles while my eyes are burning with rage. “Angry that you’re needy for me huh?”
I shake my head, trying to hold my whimpers back as he fingers me faster, hitting on a certain spot that has my eyes widening.
“There.. that your sweet weak spot?” Dabi laughs while he continues the movement of his fingers, now focused on that spot deep inside of me. The squelching sounds of my dripping pussy fill the room as his fingers piston inside of me, the knot forming in my stomach ready to burst anytime. I’m so high in this feeling, I must not give in, no matter how good it feels. No matter the way my pussy flutters and tightens around his digits as they split me open.
Dabi looks at me through half lidded eyes, biting his lip at the sight of me reaching my high. But suddenly he removes the fingers out of me, the high now crashing down and that feeling completely leaving my body. My throat almost goes sore from me screaming in frustration, but his hand keeps all the sounds muffed. It’s almost painful how he edges me like this, leaving my body all needy for more, while he laughs like a maniac in front of me. He grabs the torn off panties, stuffing them in my mouth instead.
“Haaa.. you cryin’ now? Princess wanted to cum on my fingers huh? Too bad” he mocks while tears roll down my cheeks from the humiliation. He licks his digits clean, moaning at the flavor of my cunt and his eyes flare in excitement and hunger.
“Your flavor.. so divine, I need a taste” he whispers, settling himself right between my spread legs. His hot breath directly hits my cunt. I look down on him, the sight makes me weak I hate to admit it.
He looks so good between my legs.
Dabi places one hand on my thigh, while the other is on my hips, squeezing me as he dives in. His warm tongue licking my clit teasingly, and then down my slit, has my hips bucking up.
“Greedy..” he smirks, before giving my cunt an open mouthed kiss. He begins sucking and licking my clit, moaning in pleasure as if he had been starving for days.
“Ngh- fuuuck.. sho goood.. sweet” he murmurs between the sloppy mess he’s making between my legs, his voice and grunts sending vibrations on my clit. His hand comes down, giving me a harsh slap on my thigh as his wet muscle dives inside of me, reaching as deep as it can. His other hand starts heating up, fingers digging on my hip and I squirm in fear.
Though at this point I don’t know if I’m squirming from the fear or the sinful pleasure he is giving me. Maybe both.
Before I could even realise, my hips are humping right against his face, my shaky legs wrapping around his head and by now I can’t hold back the soft moans escaping my throat.
“There you go..good girl, give in to me..” Dabi praises. “Wrap those legs tightly around me c’mon..”
As if I’m under his spell, I squeeze his head tightly between my legs, keeping him locked and pressed harder against my pussy. A guttural growl erupts from his throat, evoking a moan on my side. Thick, gleaming saliva mixed with my own juices drip down my asshole and staining the sheets underneath in process. Dabi grunts and moans more on purpose, driving me over the edge as his tongue is lapping all the mess, making loud slurping noises to make me feel even more embarrassed.
“Let me hear those sounds better..” he grins, removing the clothing off my mouth. With no way to cover my mouth anymore, I feel shame burning my cheeks as my moans escape free, loud and clear while he devours me. But while doing so, he keeps changing the rhythm on purpose to make me struggle to reach my high.
“D-Dah- Dabi..” I whimper, looking down on him with teary eyes.
“Moan my name louder princess” he chuckles, giving me another heated slap on my thigh and making me yelp.
“Dabi!!” I whine desperately. “P-Please!”
“Please what?” he responds. “You wanna cum, ah?”
“Y-Yes.. please” I cry, not caring anymore at this point as my body is aching for that sweet release. I will forever hate myself for this later, constantly living in shame and regret.
“Since you’re begging so nicely.”
With that he begins eating me out vigorously, my moans become louder and high pitched as I keep him glued between my legs, wrapping them tightly around his head. He also adds a finger or two, driving me crazier as he combines it with the tongue as well.
“Cum for me.. baby” he moans. “Nghh cum on my face- fuck, you’re.. so pretty.. my good girl”
His words are enough for me to snap, orgasm crashing through me as my eyes roll at the back of my skull. My moans come out choked while he makes me see the stars. Dabi lets out a pleased sigh as he takes in all my flavor, not letting a single drop of me go to waste while I come undone on his tongue.
By now my body is almost lifeless as I’m laying on my bed, not moving a single finger, my brain mush from that earth-shattering orgasm. Dabi stands up from between my legs and comes closer to me. I’m too tired and worn out to even say something back as he grabs my chin, giving me a slow heated kiss. His tongue intertwines with mine, and yet again I feel those butterflies swarming in my stomach as I kiss him back and moan in his mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he breathes out, pulling away from me and biting my lower lip. “Been dyin’ for those lips too..”
I look back at him pleadingly, what he has done me tonight I fear will change me forever.
“This is not right..” I whisper. “I- I shouldn’t be doing this..Dabi..”
He shuts me up with another kiss before backing off completely.
“Patience princess.. soon enough I’ll tell you all about it, for now this is our little secret m’kay?” he replies, stroking my cheek with his thumb. I nod dumbly, still high probably from the orgasm, but I know for sure that I crave him terribly.
“For now, be a good girl and just play with that pretty cunt of yours while you think of me.. and make sure to leave the balcony door open as well..” he chuckles. “It’s a pain in the ass to break in constantly”
Dabi proceeds to remove the chains and rub my wrists gently. His touch just feels so good for some reason. He playfully tugs at my wings and I slap his hand away.
Nevermind.
My hands are free now. Why am I not doing anything? Screaming for help? Kicking him out? Just why?
I might doze off pretty soon. My eyes are already heavy, my body slowly relaxing. I feel him kissing my forehead before leaving, and then I see nothing but darkness while I fall back into a deep sleep.
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🏷️ tags: @mostlyheinous @scariusaquarius @dabihawksluva @dabislittlebeaniebaby @touyalove @awalkingshame @syrenkitsune
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personasdestinyy · 2 months
Text
drive you insane | Kim Seokjin drabble
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; Your senior knows very well how to drive you insane.
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fuck buddies, uni mates, age gap (2 or 3 years)
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: senior student Seokjin x reader
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex, orgasm denied, oral (f receiving), fingering while fucking with tongue, spitting, maybe there's more, I've forgotten.
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+
a/n: I actually wrote it last night because I was incredibly bored and my mind just wasn't functioning properly. So, I wrote down whatever thoughts popped into my head at that time while I was listening (drive you insane). If this type of theme doesn't interest you, feel free to skip it. 💃
© 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐬𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐲𝐲 [𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐝]
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"Yeah~ just like that-um", you let out a soft moan, feeling your back arch and your eyes roll back in pleasure. The sensation is so intense that you start to wonder if you might pass out. Your nails dig into his shoulders, clinging to him as if your life depends on it. The feeling of your senior's dick deep inside you, hitting your g-spot, is absolutely mind-blowing. He never fails to impress you with his sex skills in bed. You're grateful that you took the chance and asked him to hook up at the university party. That day, he claimed you completely, devouring you with every thrust. You were his, and he made sure to fuck you until you couldn't even walk straight the next day.
He withdrew his cock from deep within you, leaving you feeling a sense of loss as if a piece of your heart had been taken away. But it was the effect of his dick that you simply couldn't resist.
Even when early today he engaged in conversation with his friends, you found yourself captivated by the way his Adam's apple would prominently move up and down as he spoke. Your mouth would water at the sight of his Adam's apple bobbing. Your weakness was undeniably his Adam's apple and his dick. You longed for him to take you right then and there, and you acted on that desire by sending him a message expressing your need to be fucked. He gave his friends an apologetic smile as he bid them farewell in a hurry, taking you to his dorm. Throughout the journey, you couldn't help but smile like a fool, knowing that he too couldn't resist you.
"Hmm? Are you asking me to pleasure your sweet little pussy exactly the way you want?"
He whispers softly, his voice resonating with the intensity of the passionate sex encounter taking place in his dorm room. His gaze, filled with desire, locks onto yours, making it impossible for you to resist any longer the longing for him deep inside you. With a desperate yearning, you arch your hips, yearning for the connection between your bodies. However, he retreats, settling on his knees before you. A mischievous smirk dances upon his plump, perfectly shaped lips, causing you to clench around emptiness.
"Please, Jin," you plead, your eyes welling up with tears as you never break eye contact with his now sparkling gaze, clearly amazed to see you so vulnerable beneath him.
"What Jin? Words baby, 'cause i asked you something", he responds with a playful tone, and it's unable to deny how much you love this side of him. It's fascinating how he asks you questions during intimate sex moments and becomes serious when you're unable to answer due to the overwhelming pleasure he brings. You prop yourself up on your elbows, partially sitting up, just so you can get a better view of him.
'Fuck' A soft curse escapes your lips as you feel his intense gaze burning into your nacked body. You can't help but notice how his chest rises and falls with each breath, how his broad shoulders seem even broader in this small room. His hair, damp with sweat, falls perfectly over his forehead, just the way you like it. You find yourself yearning to run your tongue along his perfectly toned skin, from his abdomen all the way up to his neck. And his impressive dick, reaching his abdomen, looks so hard, throbbing, and enticing that you can't help but desire to take it in your hands and feel it deep inside you. Your impatience grows, and he's the reason for your desperate longing. After all, who in the entire university wouldn't want him? All the girls desire him, and you're no exception. But what sets you apart is that he hasn't been with anyone else on campus except for you.
"Yes, I want you to treat my pussy like I want", your request was clear, your desire evident in the way you spoke. Your voice, hoarse and unrecognizable to your own ears, betrayed the urgency of your need. But the focus wasn't on that, was it? No, the focus was on him, on making him understand what you craved. You're craving his dick.
However, as you looked at him, it seemed like he had other plans. His eyebrow cocked up in a mischievous manner, a smirk dancing on his plump, pink lips. His body shifted slightly, moving closer until his face was level with yours. His warm breath fanned across your lips, sending a shiver down your spine. You were under his spell, completely at his mercy.
"I'm not going to give it to you the way you want," he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. It dawned on you then that he was going to play with you, with your mind, with your body. And he knew exactly how to play the game.
He moves in more closer, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and hunger. His lips gently graze yours, sending shivers down your spine. You can't help but lift your head to meet his kiss, only to be surprised when he suddenly grabs your neck firmly with one hand and pins both of your wrists with his other hand. Your eyes widen in shock at this new, unexpected move. Your body responds with a surge of arousal, your senses heightened by his touch.
As he leans in closer, his eyes now filled with a sense of urgency, he playfully nips at your lower lip, causing you to instinctively wrap your legs around him, drawing him even nearer. You can feel the heat of his body against yours, his hard dick pressing against your wet pussy. But just as you start to give in to the moment, he bites down on your lip a bit too hard, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from you. Despite the pain, you maintain eye contact with him, a single tear escaping from your eye.
In a sudden shift of mood, he releases your lip, neck, and wrists all at once, rising to his knees once again as his gaze darkens.
"Turn over onto your stomach," he commands, his voice firm and authoritative. Without hesitation, you comply, your body moving almost on its own accord in response to his dominance. You can sense that he's about to take things to a new level, exploring uncharted territory with you. Though he's been rough with you in the past, this new side of him, with his orders and control, is both thrilling and intoxicating. It's a side of him you've never seen before, and you find yourself eagerly anticipating what comes next.
He grabbed your knees firmly, lifting them effortlessly onto his shoulders. In an instant, your whole body was suspended in the air, with only your hands and face touching the plushy surface beneath you. Your hands instinctively clutched the bedsheets, holding on for dear life as you felt the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. A strange sound escaped your lips, a mixture of surprise and anticipation as you realized how vulnerable you were in this position.
"Jin, what are you going to do?" you managed to stammer out, your voice trembling with uncertainty. You couldn't see his face, but you could sense his amusement as he chuckled softly in response to your question. His smirk seemed to grow wider, adding to the mystery of his intentions.
"Just going to drive you insane," he replied cryptically, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You weren't sure if you understood his logic, but you knew that he had the power to unravel your senses with ease. As his face drew closer to your drenched core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin, you couldn't help but arch forward in response. The sudden proximity of his face to your most intimate parts made you gasp, causing you to grip the bedsheets even tighter.
He's exploring new territory today, and it's leaving you wondering why. In the past, he's always pleasured you but never indulged in tasting you. He's made it clear that he would never taste any woman, so why is today different? Why do you have this overwhelming feeling that he's going to devour you?
And just as you suspected, he does exactly that. With a long, sensual lick, he explores every inch of your clit, slit, and folds all at once. The intensity of the moment causes your eyes to shut tightly, and your mouth opens wide in silent awe. Your heart races, feeling as though it might burst from your chest, and the sound of your own heartbeat fills your ears.
He withdraws his tongue from your clit, only to firmly grasp your torso with his large palms as he moves his head further between your thighs. This time, he takes your cunt into his mouth, causing a sinful growl to escape from his lips and a moan of pleasure to escape from yours. And then he repeats it, over and over again.
Lick and suck.
The sensation is so intense that your abdomen clenches, and you feel like you're on the verge of exploding on his face. Your pussy vibrates with pleasure, and he knows just as well as you do that you're about to climax. But he doesn't stop. Instead, he nibbles on your cunt between his teeth, spits on your pussy, and plunges his tongue deep inside your hole, fucking you with his beautiful tongue.
"Oh my fucking God", you found yourself overwhelmed with pleasure, letting out a series of passionate moans as you moved your hips against his face. The sounds of desire escaping his throat only fueled your arousal further as he eagerly pleasured you. Your body tensed as you clenched around his tongue, the sensation both embarrassing and incredibly satisfying. The intensity of the moment built up until you couldn't hold back any longer, needing to let him know you were on the brink of climax. Struggling to lift your head to meet his gaze, you realized the effort was almost painful and you'll break you neck if you try harder.
"Jin, stop I'm going-", your voice was abruptly silenced by a gag as his two fingers entered your core. His tongue still exploring deep inside you, his fingers began to move within you, skillfully finding that spot you were craving for his dick to be. But instead, it was now filled with his tongue and digits, pleasuring you in a way you never imagined. The sensation of him fucking you with both his fingers and tongue simultaneously was overwhelming.
Unexpectedly, you reached the peak of pleasure and cum all over his face as he continued to pleasure you with his tongue and fingers. Your entire body vibrated with ecstasy as you experienced one of the most intense orgasms of your life. However, the moment was shattered when reality hit you like a ton of bricks - you came on his face. Your face flushed with embarrassment, realizing it was the first time he had ever eaten someone out.
But as he licks you once again, your thoughts are abruptly interrupted. The intensity of the moment makes it difficult to process everything what's happening. However, what you can register are the shallow breaths escaping your lips, evidence of the small pleasure coursing through your body again. And then you realized, it's something unexpected - he's cleaning up the aftermath of your powerful orgasm with his tongue.
'Oh fuck'
It's an intimate act.
As he removes your legs from his shoulders after cleaning you, a slight ache lingers on your hips, a reminder of his touch while he was devouring you. You decide to turn over and lie on your back, needing a moment to catch your breath.
When your eyes meet his face, your heart skips a beat. It's a surreal sight - your own orgasm painted across his chin and lips. But what truly takes your breath away is the mischievous grin on his face, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmic manner.
You can't help but smile back, a mix of humiliation and anticipation swirling within you. His eyes hold a different kind of intensity now, something primal and raw.
You're the first woman he's ever pleasured in this way, and judging by his expression, maybe he thoroughly enjoyed it.
You couldn't help but ask, "Why did you eat me out?" even though you didn't really want to. But, curiosity got the best of you.
He wiped away the remnants of your essence from his lips, using the back of his hand. Slowly, he inched closer to you, his movements captivating your attention.
"You always looked at me with those intense eyes, silently urging me to taste you. So, I decided to give it a shot," he explained, causing a smile to involuntarily form on your lips as you listened. He seemed hesitant to admit it, but you couldn't help but wonder if he enjoyed it, if he liked your flavor.
"You enjoyed? Didn't you?" you asked, trying to mask any hint of insecurity with a playful tone.
He chuckled softly, rising from the bed. Your gaze trailed down to his still erect dick, momentarily forgetting that he had fucked you before eating you out. He didn't force you into anything; he simply provided pleasure. Retrieving his pants and boxers from the floor, he dressed swiftly.
"Yeah, I enjoyed it a lot," he replied, pausing to meet your gaze before continuing with a smirk that lit up his handsome face.
"And fuck, I think I'll be doing it every day from now on."
Your eyes widened in surprise, a wide grin spreading across your face as he openly expressed his desire. He had truly driven you crazy.
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