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#and i am absolutely not above hitting a woman if she's touching me against my will
newtonsheffield · 2 years
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so this is probably super weird but could we please maybe see Deb Kate and Anthony for spicy Sunday?? I just love them, they are so young and trauma free and in love!
Right so Debutante Kaye isn’t good at cooking, but you mentioned she might have skills elsewhere thag Anthony find more than appealing 🌶🌶🌶 Can we see a sneak peak?
Ahhh... These two little horn dogs. There's a reason Kate was pregnant just five months after their wedding: They're horny teenagers who just figured out how to do the sex.
Surely, there was something wrong with her. There had to be. There had to be something wrong with her, because surely every woman did not go around all day desiring their husbands this much. Mary had of course sat in the room with her above the Horse and Harrier the night before her wedding, her fingers twisting uncomfortably.
"Darling, I know this may seem a little... ridiculous to you, given you've already likely-"
Kate's cheeks had burned. "Mama, Anthony and I haven't- we've... kissed and perhaps once or twice he removed his shirt when I asked but that's all."
Mary had looked so surprised, her lips parted with it for several moments before she said- "Well, of course, I only- many couples when their is love involved preempt their marital vows."
Kate had startled, her mind racing. "Mama, I don't want to hear about you and Appa!"
"I didn't mean to-" Mary cut herself off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Darling, are you... do you have any questions?"
And it had bubbled out of Kate before she could stop it. "What if I'm not very... good at it? What if he doesn't find me... pleasing I suppose?"
Mary stared back at her for a long moment before she sighed, brushing Kate's hair back from her forehead, tucking it behind her ear. "My darling, where there is love there is no reason to be scared. There is nothing so natural as this when you're in love, I promise."
But Kate hadn't believed her. Hadn't believed her even as she'd sat down on the bed in the tiny cottage not far from Anthony's family's farmhouse, with her cheeks burning as Anthony had cleared his throat.
"Alone at last and I'm not worried your father will find out and skin me alive."
She'd chuckled despite her nervousness, "He wouldn't skin you. He might have hit you in the knees with a cane."
"Much better." Anthony had agreed, silence tense and awkward between them before Anthony had sighed, "I'm sorry, I'm very nervous."
"So am I." She'd sighed, relaxing a little as Anthony had tucked his arm around her waist, still in her wedding dress, his chin resting on her shoulder.
"I've only... done this once before and I'm worried you won't... enjoy yourself." Anthony admitted, his fingers intertwined with hers and suddenly the idea seemed so ludicrous.
"Anthony I can't imagine being with you in any way would not be enjoyable."
"If you don't enjoy anything, you have to tell me. I'm your husband and all I want is to please you." He'd had his forehead pressed against hers, his hands soft on her face just before their lips touched. And his hands had shaken a little when he'd tugged at her corset, and hers had ripped a button from his shirt as she'd tugged at it, and his voice had been reverent when he'd made her his wife and they'd gasped together. You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen and when they'd lay together in the after with the fire crackling in the grate, gasping for air, Kate hadn't been able to stop herself from letting out a hysterical giggle.
"I think I'm going to quite like being a wife."
Anthony's breath had shuddered nuzzling against her bare chest where he'd collapsed. "I absolutely bloody love being a husband. I'm not going to work tomorrow, we aren't leaving this bed Mrs Bridgerton until I know what absolutely every inch of you tastes like, I'm afraid."
"Well if you insist."
"I do. I'm afraid I do."
Of course it had been rather embarrassing to stand in front of Anthony's mother the day after their day in bed, when she must have known the reason for their absence, but Anthony hadn't seemed at all bothered. And Kate had thought this would change. That her cheeks wouldn't grow hot whenever she saw Anthony, that she'd grow used to how his body looked as he wielded the scythe, how he looked on his horse, powerful and strong and hers and she burned.
But it didn't. And she didn't. And all she did was desire her husband, it seemed. She burned for him in the morning, when he stood from their bed as the dawn broke naked as the day he was born and his skin glowed in the sun as he groaned, looking back at her in bed. Pull the sheets up, my love. If I see you like that I'll never leave. And she thought about him all day. Thought about the way his hands, rough from work, felt on her skin, the way his lips felt against hers the way his lips felt trailing down her body. The way his voice broke on her name as his hips stuttered against hers. The moment he came through the front door in the afternoon, her hands reached for him tugging his lips down to hers, swallowing the fevered groan that rose in his chest I thought about you all day sweetheart while her fingers tugged at the fastenings on his breeches. And it never stopped.
She loved the land that they lived on, the fields that rolled on forever and the animals in the distance, the peace and quiet. And as the afternoon sun set she'd become fond of sitting among the wildflowers that grew behind the cottage picking flowers to sit on the table in their kitchen, watching for the first signs of Anthony, jumping over the fence from the farm.
It was just like that today, the birds chirping in the afternoon sun, flowers all around her.
"My lady!"
Anthony's voice carried on the wind towards her, forcing her head up in surprise given he shouldn't be home for another hour at least, but there he was, jumping down from the fence. The sun was shining in his hair casting little streaks of red into it, the shadow on his cheeks the slight beard that grew during the day, the grin on his face, always so handsome at this time of day. his neckcloth abandoned, braces hanging around his waist, his shirt unbuttoned nearly to his navel.
"You're early!" She called back, watching him run towards her, his boots crunching through the grass, his smile growing as she stood, waiting for what she knew would come.
"I was extra quick about my work today." He caught her around the waist, spinning her around as he lifted her, his lips clashing against hers, his tongue slipping over hers, a grin on his face as he pulled back, his thumb swiping gently over her cheekbones. "I thought about you all day."
Kate sighed letting herself relax against his chest the closeness between them tugging at the heat in her stomach. "What did you think about? My cooking no doubt."
Anthony chuckled, ducking down to kiss her quickly again. "Oh no doubt Mrs Bridgerton." His fingers were skimming over her thighs, still through her dress but she could feel the heat of his hand, his voice deepening in her ear. "I thought as well about how I wanted to sink between your legs the minute I got home, how I wanted to take you right here, amongst the flowers."
Kate felt her cheeks burn, her fingers already tugging his shirt from his breeches. "Why out here?"
Anthony chuckled, tugging at her dress until it slipped down, leaving her in her corsets. "When we first met, and we'd sit together at the edge of the park I wanted you so badly. I'd go back to my inn and think about how you'd feel around me, and i'd finish in my hand just thinking about it."
Kate let out a groan, tugging Anthony's shirt from his chest, letting it float to the ground, the feel of his warm skin under her hands, warm against her own skin.
"If you'd asked me, I would have let you."
Anthony groaned, his fingers slipping between her legs eyes fluttering closed at the feel of her, swallowing her gasp with his tongue. "Don't tell me that, don't tell me that sweetheart."
Already she couldn't breathe, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck as Anthony's fingers slipped over her, into her, his eyes catching with hers, burning together in the fading light.
"You're so perfect, sweetheart, so perfect."
heat was building quickly between them, Kate's hips rocking towards him a little desperately, her eyes slipping closed as Anthony's hand gripped at her chest, his lips nipping at her neck, pushing her higher and higher, the heat, even in the open air, stifling and-
No, Anthony, I want you. I want you instead.
Anthony let out a desperate growl, his lips crashing against hers again, his hands tugging at her hips until her legs were wrapped around his waist. One hand shot up, cradling her head as he lay them down in the grass, the weight of his body against hers, the slide of his skin against hers, her body trapped between the firm wall of his chest and the soft grass.
A groan rose between them as Anthony's hips rocked towards her, joining them together. Kate let out a desperate gasp, her fingers pushing Anthony's hair back from his eyes. There was a muscle clenching in his jaw as his hips rolled towards hers, rocking them together gently as though he was holding himself back, just as he always did at the beginning, and she loved him for it. Loved the slow dismantling of his self control as though he couldn't remember how to be himself, how to do anything when they were like this, desperate for more, desperate for her.
It was heady, looking at Anthony like this, desperate moans and gasps of her name falling from his lips, every muscle in his body coiled tight, powerful and strong above her as his rough hands roamed over her soft skin, tugging and pulling as she encouraged him against her.
It feels so good, Anthony. So good, I know you can give me more
The feel of his skin against hers, the smell of sweat that clung to his skin from the hard day's work he'd done to provide for her, it was all overwhelming as his eyes fluttered closed, fighting and fighting to regain control, and he couldn't. Another growl fell from his chest as his hips snapped towards her, her own hips rocking up to meet him as they hurtled towards the end, the heat in her stomach climbing higher and higher, pushing and ebbing and flowing between them until everything shattered.
Her fingernails cut into his skin as she clutched him to her chest, her vision blurring at the edges. Anthony's hips stuttered against her, once twice three times, his shoulders heaving.
Kate!
And everything went still as he collapsed against her.
"I love you." Anthony was still breathless as his lips brushed her neck messily, clinging desperately to her as he always did in these moments after. Content and happy, and satisfied. "I have no idea what I ever did to deserve you, but for the rest of my life I'll be glad I did it."
A stupid giggle fell from her lips as she kissed the top of his head, taking in the smell of him. "In all honestly, my head was turned by the way your muscles moved when you unloaded your cart."
And she'd remember Anthony's beautiful laughter for the rest of her life.
So no. Kate truly shouldn't have been surprised when she sat in her mother in law's kitchen with nausea rolling over her, stiflingly hot for autumn, struggling for words as she fanned herself.
"I'm sorry, Violet, I've been feeling rather unwell these last few days, perhaps my cooking truly has finally been the downfall of me."
And her mother in law took one look at her and sighed, "Kate, darling, when was the last time you had your courses?"
Kate had frowned, thinking back, her mind turning before "You don't think I could be-?"
Violet chuckled, "Why? From the grass stains I've seen you trying to get out of your clothing I'm not sure anyone could call your marriage chaste, my dear."
And perhaps she shouldn't have, but Kate couldn't help but feel a little smug. "No. Not particularly."
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magical-mistakes-vm · 6 months
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“Vol, he’s right.  You lost your shit for absolutely no reason, and she got hurt.  It’s obvious what is going on to both Bal and I.  You need to get a hold on this.  Take care of her, we’ll be back.”  Elmar clapped him on the shoulder and followed their other friend.  They all needed a little space.
As soon as the door to his office closed, Vollrath ran a hand through his auburn hair and walked over to the couch where Mahala lay.  He’d watched her sleep the night before and even that morning, but she hadn’t looked like she did now.  There was a difference.  This was not a peaceful rest, it was something different.
Sitting on the edge of the couch next to her, he took her hand in both of his, holding it like it was the most fragile thing he’d ever touched.  It seemed so small compared with his, so delicate.  Gult flooded him and threatened to drown him.  “Mahala, I’m so sorry.  I don’t know…”  His eyes closed, Vollrath did know.  “I’m sorry, little witch, I didn’t trust you. I didn’t trust them.  I let stupid shit get to me.”  His head shook, this was just the thing his friends got on him all the time about, once his temper started to go, it was an explosion of some kind.  Never before had it been over a woman.   Keeping hold of one hand, he reached up and brushed her hair from her forehead, softly chanting a healing incantation as he did.
“What have you done to me?  How have you instilled such a fear of losing you in such a short amount of time?” The backs of his fingers caressed her cheek, his lips thinning as guilt weighed on him. “Instead of holding you closer, I lose my temper and this is the result.  I warned you it’s hard to let people close, but I never meant to do this.”  He knew that he had to get his temper in check when it came to her, or he would lose her.  It would only be a matter of time until he lost it AT her, not just AROUND her.  Their differences the night before had been nothing compared to how enraged he was at his friends for purposefully pushing his buttons regarding her.  “My little witch, you already have my heart.” The last sentence was said just above a whisper.
Mahala’s eyelids fluttered and her breath stuttered, the hand being held by Vollrath twitched and then held his back.  He leaned over her, putting his free hand against the back of the couch to brace himself.  She was waking up, now would be the test if she knew what had happened.  Now he would find out if she would forgive him, or if he was going to have to send Baldur and Elmar away with her to train her so he did not lose his mind.
“Vollrath?”  She blinked a couple of times, then her eyes squeezed shut and her hand not being held reached up to her forehead as her face scrunched.  “Did I hit my head?  What happened?” She blew out a heavy breath and slightly moaned.
“Let me.”  His voice was soft as he pulled her hand down and leaned back so he could once more run fingers over her forehead.  “I…” he sighed heavily, “I lost my temper, and forgot you don’t know how to shield your magic, or yourself from it.  I am so, so sorry, sweetheart.  I…” another heavy sigh, “I never meant to hurt you.  I made a mistake in not being more careful and calming down.”  He kept easing her pain as he spoke, hoping, praying that she wouldn’t hate him.
One eye slitted open to look at him.  “You losing your temper feels like I bashed my face on your desk?”  He nodded, guilt overwhelming him once more as he waited as her open eye once more closed.
“You’re going to have to work on that, as in like, today.  I do not consent to be knocked unconscious because you and Elmar get in a fight.  Knock him out.  Or Baldur.  They’re bigger.”  She moaned slightly and her face started to relax.  “Whatever you’re doing is helping.”
Vollrath just sat and stared at her as he worked healing magic over her. She wasn’t pulling away, she wasn’t rebuking him, she wasn’t doing all of the scenarios that had gone off in his head as he had been waiting for her to open her beautiful eyes.  He leaned forward and gently placed a kiss on her forehead.  “Anything for you.” It was almost spoken as a prayer as he did, it was a vow.
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vault-heck · 1 year
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"I've never done anything like this before" with whoever you want
Oooh let's give this a whirl with Omen and Chase 👀
No less than thirty feet from the solid ground beneath Omen's feet, a fearsome woman stood tip-toed on a branch that was only just wide enough for her feet. Her wrists were secured behind her back, in cuffs, though it had been of her own doing, and sly lips curled around the key.
"Chase, wait–"
A small motion, nothing more than a pout, and the key flew from her mouth. Omen caught it with ease a second later and let out a quiet huff of exasperation. They hated it when she did this– tested their resolve, their tactics, their readiness for shit to hit the fan, by putting herself on the line.
But it didn't take Chase long to figure out that Omen performed best under pressure.
"Get up here and unlock them. Don't think like someone bound by the laws of physics."
"I am bound by the laws of physics," Omen complained. You bitch.
"You have your limits." Her tone was bored. "I want you to push them."
The trace of a smile she had worn when Omen first left their trailer and saw her in the tree was gone, her features might as well have been steel.
"Why don't you come down here and push my limits yourself?"
They were buying themselves time to think, unhindered. How did Chase climb the tree? Had she cut down whatever she used to ascend, or did she expect Omen to find the route?
"Can't," she said simply. "I'm cuffed."
They scanned the tree for potential footholds and found nothing they could use. To the south there was nothing but a barren plain of dirt concrete; to the north, a decrepit building.
That had to be it, Omen reasoned. A moderately thick branch of the tree extended all but three feet to connecting with the building's roof access.
"Oh no, my legs are getting so tired," she deadpanned. Omen cursed under their breath.
The most difficult part of scaling it was keeping their eyes and thoughts off Chase and the branch that held her up. If the climb got too precarious, they could go inside the building to find roof access, but that would mean letting her out of their sight– an absolute last resort.
The brick proved resilient enough to support them, and after several minutes of struggle they found a windowsill that gave them the necessary boost to grab an edge of the roof.
The vault from the rooftop to the branch and the descent that followed was graceful. Once Omen had a good view and gravity on their side, they advanced toward her with ease. They hung from a branch above where Chase stood and gently dropped to hers, and only then realized how their limbs trembled.
"Congratulations," Chase said. "Please tell me you remembered the key."
Omen began to reach for their pocket, and hesitated. "Did I pass your test?"
Chase's eyes thinned. "In a way. Technically, all I told you was to unlock the handcuffs…"
Her gaze drifted past Omen, who turned their head to follow. On the second story of the building they had used for roof access, on an adjoining exterior wall, an extendable ladder leaned against brick on a fire escape platform.
"You made a decision before you collected all the information that was available to you."
Again.
"However, you accomplished your goal." Her mouth curved at one side. "I assume."
It felt like a trick question. The best of Chase's challenges always did.
"You're just being generous because I'm still holding the key."
Now the smile was contained to Chase's eyes, and a touch more flirtatious. "Do you blame me?"
Omen snickered.
"So what if I did forget the key? Should I go back for the ladder, the correct answer?" They leaned in a little closer. Chase wasn't going anywhere, and couldn't play dirty to shut them up, not with her hands out of the equation.
"I never said that was the correct answer," she breathed. "But either way, I don't believe you. I think you have that key in your bottom right coat pocket, and you're toying with me."
"Maybe so." The key sat like a dumbell in their bottom right coat pocket. Their desire for Chase sounded like lead in their voice.
"This is a nice change of pace." Her chest rose with deeper breaths. "Omen."
"Chase."
"Kiss me."
The wind picked up and pulled her shoulder length hair to the side. It wove around Omen's ankles and renewed their sense of urgency.
"I've… never done anything like this before."
"To be fair, it's likely that no one has."
Yes, fair, not entirely reassuring.
"That's part of what makes this exciting though, isn't it?" Chase's eyes glinted, a flash that was gone as quickly as Omen could perceive it.
They sighed and glanced downward. Too high for comfort.
And yet… Chase looked phenomenal. Yes, it was exciting.
The height itself did little for Omen. It was Chase that kept them logic, her eyes electric and skin flushed from finally being on the receiving end of something so dangerous. They wouldn't often have an opportunity like this, to have the upper hand.
They put a hand to her waist for a sense of stability and leaned in to kiss her in a single fluid motion.
Chase gasped into their kiss with genuine surprise. Omen could practically feel her heart rate jump; she was used to being in charge.
As they kissed, Omen's confidence grew. They pulled away just as she relaxed her jaw, making her sigh in frustration, and they smiled.
"Come back." Her eyes fluttered open.
Omen watched her from a short distance, then pinned her to the trunk of the tree with gradual pressure of a knee between her legs. The gasp it elicited sent a delicious chill down their spine.
They ran their hand up her stomach and chest and rested it just below her throat. They could see evidence of her heightened pulse in a slightly lifted vein, and her breath caught under their gloved fingers.
"Why don't I find a way to get you down without taking the cuffs off?"
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boldlyvoid · 3 years
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Million Dollar Man | chapter two
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18+
summary: Spencer's therapist recommended he branch out and meet new people who don't want to talk about his work... she didn't expect him to sign up for a Sugar Daddy website.
Content warnings: sugar daddy!spencer, age gaps (14 years), daddy kink, blow jobs, kissing, drinking mention, lowkey perv!Spencer, cum play, praise, oral (female receiving), grinding, love confessions, arrangements, Spencers anxiety, (more to add)
word count: 3.4K
a/n: updates on Wednesdays and saturdays at 2 pm est
Chapter Two | Masterlist
She sat on the subway with an anxious pit in her stomach and her purse held close to her chest. Her laptop in her bag, she didn’t want to lose it on her way to the most important meeting of her whole life.
Her story was becoming a book, she was almost done the final draft, they were making touch-ups to the cover and picking the type of paper today.
Her dreams were coming true within the next month, soon she’d have a physical copy of her book, her pre-sales were showing that she’d be on the bestseller list, and her name was finally going to be on the cover of this one.
She sighed and reached for her necklace, holding it between her fingers as she took a few deep breaths. She was doing so much better today than she was last year and it was all because of Spencer, he was the best thing to happen to her. To think she complimented his sweater vest and now he’s the only person in her life she can count on.
All she can think about is him for the rest of her journey, through 4 more stops she keeps her eyes closed as she thinks of all his little facts and his cute laugh. She smiles to herself and the anxiety slips away, she loves him and she knows that for sure, but she just doesn’t know how she loves him.
She’s never had a sibling, her best friends are all women, her previous boyfriends were all shit and her other sugar daddies were never this wonderful, and her parents are lesbians… she doesn’t know what her feelings really are for Spencer, mainly because she’s never known any other men to compare him to.
But she does know the exact moment she realized she fell for him.
He booked a hotel room in DC after a local case, asking her to meet him in there at 10 pm. She was waiting in the bathtub when he arrived, bubbles galore, her hair up and arms open, “welcome home, honey.”
He laughs, “you want me to get in there with you?”
She just nods, “let me take care of you, daddy?”
He takes off his blazer, pulls his tie off and starts to unbutton his shirt. She watches patiently as he gets undressed, and it’s not sexual to her. He’s her person, her best friend, the only human being she would ever share a moment like this with and that’s when it hits her.
She doesn’t accept it just yet.
It’s not until he’s lying on her chest, between her legs, cheek resting on her boobs as she runs a sponge over his back while he gives her a little run down on his terrible week. His co-worker almost died, his mom is stressing him out, the only good thing he has left is her and she knows that.
“And then I get to my moms facility and she’s had a really good day, she knows me and she knows all of my childhood again and she’s all right there in front of me and yet she’s so far away. I’m never going to get all the time I want with her and it’s really hard to accept.”
He shares things with her that he doesn’t even tell his therapist. Because his therapist doesn’t hold him like a child against her chest and tell him he’s okay when he get’s upset.
Y/N loves him, so she kisses his forehead, “I’m so sorry, I have 2 moms if you’d like to have one?”
“It’s okay, I would love to meet them sometime though,” he wraps his arms around her waist a little tighter under the water. “Thank you for tonight.”
“Did I mention my leg is 44 inches from hip to toe?” She asks in the middle of the silence, quoting pretty woman, knowing he hasn’t seen that far into the movie yet. “So basically we’re talking about 88 inches of therapy for the bargain price of $800 dollars a week.”
Her legs wrap around him and their naked bodies are closer than they’ve ever been and yet it’s completely platonic, “I’d spend a million dollars on you if it always meant feeling this good after.”
She runs her cheek along his wet hair as he snuggles into her neck, “mmm, I like the sound of that,” she teased. “My million dollar man.”
Her stop rolls around and she pulls herself out of her day dreams to get off the train and head to her meeting. She smiles as she walks through the station, up the stairs and onto the busy downtown streets when she gets a text with Spencers special chime. She opens it when she gets to where she’s going, safely inside and in the waiting room.
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It makes her laugh in the waiting room. People look at her but she doesn’t care, he’s so special to her she feels butterflies in her stomach even when he’s not around.
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“Y/N!” She hears her name being called by her editor, he’s over ecstatic as he comes running out to get her. “Come, come we have so many choices to make!” He jumps up and down as he holds her arm, like a child in a candy store.
“Andy, chill man,” she laughs at him and plays it cool, “It’s just the cover being finalized.”
“It’s our baby!” He teases back, pushing his glasses up and tugging her behind the glass doors of the office.
She’s surrounded by people and paper and huge versions of her book cover. She has a sharpie as she fixed mistakes and jots down final ideas. “And I wan’t Phil to look more human and less like data from Star Trek?”
“But Dorothy looks okay?” The artist asks, nervously and Y/N can tell.
“She looks beautiful! You really brought her justice,” she smiles, “really she looks the same in my head! It’s just Phil and I’m sure it’s tough getting a drawing to look like a robotic human, let alone human.”
“I have some ideas?” She opens up more, taking her iPad out and sliding it across the table, “I wanted to give him more of a Sophia feel? His face is silicone but his joints and everything are more like an Elon Musk crash dummy.”
“That’s perfect!” She’s shocked, “why didn’t that go in the first draft?”
“I was worried it was too much,” she’s a little older than Y/N, and yet her anxiety is that of a teenage girl. “I’m going to get working on the final, do you want some emailed versions tonight?”
“Yes please,” she smiles.
“So we’re done?” Andy asks, “we’ve made all our final calls?”
“I believe we have,” Y/N closes her laptop and takes her phone out, taking a photo of the final rough sketch of her book cover on the table to send to Spencer before he comes to pick her up. She can’t wait to see him now.
They’re sitting side by side in matching spa robes, he’s getting a pedicure while she gets her nails done. Leaning back in her chair with a face mask and cucumbers on her eyes, she’s never felt more relaxed in her life. And just in time too, her back was killing her from writing, her knuckles hurt and she just needed a break.
Spencer did too, he was genuinely not having a good time at work anymore, every case made him spiral and he always looked to Y/N on days like that. They met more than once a week now, she got $800 every Friday and she didn’t even really need it anymore. He was coving for so much of her bills and lively hood that her savings account was growing and growing because of him.
For the first time in her life she thought she would be okay if a man left her. As terrible as it was, as much as her moms tried to raise her differently, she fell down the daddy issues rabbit hole and she’s never going to find her way out— however, luckily for her, Spencer is down here too, and he brought a flashlight.
He understands her, more than anyone else on earth. He knows all her secrets, every crush and bad grade and snide remark she’s ever kept to herself. He didn’t judge her, he could actually listen to her issues and tell her why she had them. He gave better advice than a therapist and he was able to get information for her if he didn’t know the answer to what she was going through.
He’s absolutely everything to her and yet he’s 14 years older than her, he’s still traumatized beyond belief, he’s sad and ashamed and recovering… but he’s the best man in the whole world and she wishes he could see that. If he just looked at himself from her eyes, if he felt how she did in her soul when they were together, he’d love himself.
They’re too relaxed to drive home, and Spencer knew that would happen beforehand, bringing her a change of clothes (lingerie) and that robe me mentioned. He books a hotel above the spa and takes her to it. Arms linked as they enter the suite, she’s amazed to find more than one gift bag on the bed.
“How many gifts is this now?”
“We’re at 5 out of 24.”
She laughs as she wraps her arms around him in a thank you hug, “this is what you consider 4 gifts? Spencer there are like 8 things on the bed, let alone the massage and manicure?”
“If you think this is too much I guess you’re going to get really mad next week,” he teases as she looks up at him with a surprised look on her face.
“Spencer, I am so busy next week, I cannot be galavanting around with my sugar daddy,” she tries to act like she doesn’t want to go on an adventure with him again.
The last trip they took was the best week of her life. They went to all the historical sites in the UK that she and Spencer had talked about. Mainly old churches and castles, strange poets graves, random art and most importantly; stone henge. It was a trip of a lifetime and he took it with her.
“I watched the rest of Pretty Woman the other day,” he smiles, “and I thought I’d pull an Edward Lewis and really surprise you because you deserve it.”
“You know how the movie ends, right?” Her heart beats really fast in her chest and she wants him to love her so bad but it’s also terrifying now that she’s this close.
“He lets her choose,” he whispers.
“He rescues her,” she corrects him.
“And she rescues him right back,” he really did watch the end of the movie.
It makes her heart skip a beat as she swallows sharply, “what does this mean for us?”
“I have a whole plan, a whole sequence of events I want to stick to. I wanted to make you fall in love with me this week and ask you on your birthday, can we still do that?” He pleads with her, he’s so serious. He’s clearly put a lot of effort into this.
“Absolutely,” she smiles, “but if you’re going to make me wait that long for you to ask, you still can’t kiss me till then. No matter how much I already love you.”
“Really?” He’s so soft with her, she knows he’s not reacting to the teasing. He’s never had someone tell him they love him and then stay after.
“I would never lie to you about that, spence. I know what love means to you, I know how scared you are and I’m scared too. But I know there is no one else in the whole world I’d rather be scared with than you,” she holds him tighter and rubs her nose against his, “so what’s in the bags, daddy? Finish your surprise.”
She plays along perfectly, stepping back and hauling him towards the bed. “I got you some outfits and things for the next 2 weeks, we have a few things planned. We’re going on a flight soon, I have new luggage being delivered to your apartment this week and we’re going to see your moms for 3 days.”
“No,” she shakes her head, “there’s no way, Spencer, I haven’t seen them in 5 years, I’m going to cry.”
“I know,” he cups her jaw with his hand. “They’re really excited to see you.”
She hugs him tight, kissing his neck as she holds him. “Thank you, daddy, do you want me to put something on for you now?”
“I’m just going to take it off you, plus, what your wearing is sexy enough, he whispers back. “You’re always so beautiful, baby.”
“I thought you were saving the best for last?” She asks as she pulls back, overly eager and he can tell.
“I want to repay the favour from the other night.”
She doesn’t mean to gasp and yet she does, “please?”
He pulls on the tie of her robe, opening it enough to snake a hand behind her back and draw her in with a hand on her bare back. “Please what?”
“Please, daddy?” She looks up with her best begging eyes, perfect pout and all. “I want you to touch me, I promise I’ll be a good girl.”
He steps away from her to swipe all the bags off the bed before picking her up and laying her back against the pillows. He kisses down her body, hand on her lover back as she arches, he drags his bottom lip from her belly button to her cleavage. Nipping and sucking at the exposed skin on her chest, pulling her breasts out of the bra to suck on her nipples, she moans and it’s louder than she expected.
As she plays with his hair, he marks her, bruising small little love bites all the way down as he makes his way between her legs, “take me, please?”
He’s been dreaming of this for so long, he can’t even give you an accurate number of times his mind has drifted to the thought of how wonderful she would taste, how beautiful she’d sound…
“Tell me how badly you want me?” He asks as he spreads her legs and kisses her left thigh.
“I haven’t had sex in 10 months while waiting for you. Daddy, please you’ve owned me for so long, just take what’s yours already for gods sa- OH!”
With a broad lick, his tongue flattens against her core and it shuts her up. She gets what she wants, holding into his hair as she tosses her head back, taking it all in and enjoying it. He’s been on her mind for months, every time her vibrator was where he is now, she thought of him. he’s been the man of her dreams longer than she’s known him, and he was proving it.
“Right there, daddy,” she speaks through shallow breaths, “do you know how much I’ve thought of this?”
“You know I don’t,” the vibrations of his voice against her skin are glorious, he looks up at her through his lashes as his tongue flicks over her clit and she shakes a bit.
“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping his hair tighter, “better than I thought you’d be, fuck, too bad you— Jesus, don’t have the stash anymore…”
He stops and looks up at her, the smirk on his face glistening with her juices, “the stash?”
She nods, “I’ve thought about calling it the pussy tickler,” she teases, running her hand down his cheek and swiping her thumb across his bottom lip before bringing it up to her mouth to taste, “I want more of you.”
He kisses back up her body and she reaches for his robe the second he’s close enough. “Just grind against me? I know you’re waiting but we can still feel good together?”
He kisses the side of her mouth and she takes that as a yes, wrapping her legs around him so his hard cock is pressed right against her core as they move their hips in synchronicity with each other. His breathing is heavy as he kisses her cheek and jaw, her nails scratch down his back, he feels absolutely amazing against her.
She feels so empty, she wants him so bad she’s clenching around nothing as she squirms against his cock and wishes she was full.
“I wish I could move time,” she whispers. “Fuck, why can’t it be my birthday?”
He laughs against her, grazing his teeth over her neck and drawing another moan from her but then he stops moving his hips, “why are you so impatient?”
“Remember I said I stopped enjoying everything? Well, taking a 10 month break from sex and thinking about you every time I got off has made me desperate,” her hand cups his cheek, “I’d wait forever for you, but a girl needs to be fucked hard every once in a while.”
Only she could find a way to make something both profoundly beautiful and whorish at the same time, he loved her for it and she knew that now. He smiles and leaned in to rub his nose against hers and it takes everything in her not to kiss him. The same way it was taking everything in him not to slip into her as he began to grind against her once more.
She’s so close, the accidental edging has added a whole new level of desperation she’s never felt before. She wants to cum for him so bad, but more importantly she wants him to cum for her.
“Take my bra off,” she whispers, Spencer’s hands travel behind her back to unclasp it and he helps her out of it before tossing it to the floor.
“Cum for me daddy,” she whispers in his head with a hand in his hair, gripping him tightly as he bites at her neck, “cover me with your cum like you’re marking your territory.”
“Shit,” his hips sputter against hers.
“Say it, I know you want to,” she teases, so close to the edge but it’s too good of an opportunity. She loves seeing him fall apart like this and she can’t wait to see it again. “Who’s am I?”
“Daddy’s girl.”
He grinds down on her harder and faster and she’s so close, the bubble in her gut is reaching a fever pitch and with a gasp, she’s cumming and then she feels it. His load covers her stomach as he pants against her neck and grips her hips tighter as he comes down.
She wraps her arms around him and holds him as close as humanly possible, her breathing still heavy as he rises and falls on her chest. He’s heavy but she doesn’t care, she just kisses the top of his head and thanks him.
He brushes his nose against her neck, nuzzling her like a cat, “do you really mean it?”
“What, honey?” He remembers so much, this could be a question about something she said 2 months or 2 minutes ago and she has no clue.
“You’re not just playing along with my kinks right, you genuinely want to be mine?”
For being her million dollar man, his heart sure was broke. This is why he wasn’t ready, he still didn’t understand why she would want to stay without anything in return, he’s gotten so used to paying her for her time now that his anxiety has managed to convince him that she’ll leave when he stops being worth it to her.
“What does my necklace say?” She asks, knowing how close he was to it. “Read it to me, I forget.”
“Daddy’s girl,” he smiles again.
She soothes her hands over his back, “I would do anything with you because I love and trust you, but also because everything you do is sexy… you could read me the dictionary and I’d still want you to pump me full of cum after.”
“It sounds so crude after,” he laughs, “speaking of, we really need to have a shower.”
“I’ll wash your back if you wash mine?” She teases as he gets up.
“Only if you let me wash the front too?”
She smacks his bare ass and races him into the bathroom, turning on the water and getting in with him while still laughing and carrying on. He’s her best friend in the whole world, there’s no one else she would rather do this with… there was no one she has done this with. No one has made her feel this good, before during and after sex.
Spencer Reid was an anomaly, but he was hers.
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hi 👋 general 38, preferably with some humor! i hope it’s a good distraction 😊
Hi lovely!! 🥰 Ooo good choice I like this one!! It ended up way longer than I thought it would be slkdjfldskf oops 😅 Thank you so much for providing the distraction, it was a really good one 🥺🥰💖
Send me prompts?
(38) “What happened to your face?”
Chloe looked up from the textbook as there was a knock at her bedroom door. It was after midnight, which of the Bellas was that?
“Chloooo, I know you’re up!” Beca’s voice drawled through the door as a grin spread across Chloe’s face, “I can see your light on!”
Chloe giggled softly as she got up to let Beca in. She knew that voice... that was Beca’s drunk voice. She’d been out with Jesse that night, they must have gone to a bar or something.
“Hey Be-”
Chloe’s words died on her tongue as she opened the door, finding Beca leaning against the doorframe, hair in her face, a stupid smile on her lips, and a cut above her eyebrow that was bleeding that went with the bruise forming around her eye.
“Oh my God, what happened to your face?” Chloe’s hands instantly moved to brush Beca’s hair from her eyes, Beca wincing as her fingers touched her face.
“Is nothing.” Beca shrugged, gently moving Chloe’s hands away, “Jesse and I broke up.”
“He did this to you?!” Chloe looked like she was about to find Jesse and hunt him for sport as Beca hurriedly shook her head, resting her hands on Chloe’s shoulders.
“No Bruce Banner, is fine, calm down.” Beca laughed at the absurdity that Jesse would hurt her, “We broke up. I went to a bar. I fell, hit my head off the bar... apparently I’ve had ‘too much’ to drink...” Beca used her fingers as air quotes as she rolled her eyes and then regretted it as her bruised eye throbbed, “OW, okay that’s rude, I like rolling my eyes, what the hell...”
Chloe giggled as her anger melted away. Beca was really cute when she was drunk... even if she was also injured, and... heartbroken? It was hard to tell when she was this drunk.
“Becs we should take you to the ER, you might have a concussion.” Chloe gently cupped her cheek on the uninjured side of her face, a concerned smile on her face, “You might need stitches.”
“Pfft nah...” Beca shrugged, “M fine. Just wanted to come home. Wanted a cuddle ‘cause ‘m drunk and sad... tell anyone and I’ll kill you, my mom made me take karate in the fifth grade, I could kick your ass Beale.”
“I’m sure you could Becs.” Chloe giggled, “Alright, come in. But I’m getting the first aid kit and some frozen peas for your eye.”
“But my eye isn’t hungry...” Beca laughed at her own terrible joke as she flopped down onto Chloe’s bed, Chloe rolling her eyes as she left.
She returned to find Beca starfished on her bed, humming an indistinct tune to herself as her feet wiggled in time to it.
“You enjoying yourself there?” Chloe giggled, watching as Beca continued to wiggle her feet a little.
“Maybe.” Beca shrugged, still wearing her dumb smirk as Chloe sat next to her and held out the peas, “Oh good, turns out my eye is hungry after all.”
“You’re such a dork...” Chloe shook her head a little, beaming at Beca, “Just hold this on your eye whilst I clean that cut.”
“Alright bossy.” Beca grumbled, but there was a smile on her face as she did as she was told.
“This might sting a little Becs.” Chloe’s smile was sympathetic as took the alcohol wipe and started to clean the cut.
“Ow...” Beca whined, frowning deeply, “Ow! Chloeeee!”
“Hey, I’m not the one who tripped and hit their head on the bar!” Chloe raised her eyebrow, a bemused smile on her face, “Now stop being a baby and stop frowning so I can do this properly.”
Beca grumbled as she let her face relax, still wincing slightly as Chloe cleaned the cut on her head, “M not a baby... I’m a grown ass woman.”
“Sure you are Becs.” Chloe grinned, brushing Beca’s hair back from her face again before applying a small dressing to the cut. It didn’t need stitches, it would be absolutely fine in a couple of days.
“I am!” Beca protested, flopping her the arm that wasn’t holding frozen peas on her eye down on the mattress, reminiscent of a toddler having a tantrum, “M very responsible, that’s why I broke up with Jesse.”
“What do you mean?” Chloe frowned softly.
“M in love with someone else.” Beca shrugged simply as if it was an obvious answer, “Wasn’t fair on him. He made that sad puppy dog face and that made me feel... guilty. And then he was really nice and understanding about it which made me feel guily-er, so I went for a drink... or twelve.”
“Oh Becs...” Chloe sighed softly as she moved the first aid kit and curled up next to Beca, head resting gently on her shoulder as she draped her arm over her waist. Beca had wanted to cuddle after all, “You did do the right thing, you have nothing to feel guilty about. It wouldn’t have been fair to lead him on, I’m glad he didn’t get mad at you about it.”
“Might’ve been easier...” Beca sighed heavily, “He hugged me, who does that when they’ve just been told that their girlfriend isn’t love with them but with her best friend instead?”
Chloe felt her stomach swoop as she looked up at Beca, licking her suddenly dry lips, “W-what?”
“Right? Like how weird was that? He didn’t even really hug me when we were dating...” Beca mumbled, seemingly oblivious to the confession she’d just made to Chloe.
Chloe felt stuck. Should she press the confession that Beca had just made? She was Beca’s best friend right? Either that, or Fat Amy, and as much as Chloe adored their Australian friend, she just couldn’t see Beca being in love with her. But on the other hand Beca was really drunk, Chloe couldn’t take advantage of her like this.
“M sleepy.” Beca huffed, rolling onto her side as she ditched the bag of frozen peas on the bedside table and curled tight into Chloe’s arms, “Can I sleep here?”
“Of course Becs.” Chloe smiled softly. Leaving the topic where it was, that was the decision that had been made for her, and she could live with that, “You’ve had a long day, you go to sleep.”
“Kay.” Beca was almost asleep already as her head rested against Chloe’s shoulder, “Thanks.”
“No problem Beca.”
-----
Beca groaned softly as she raised her hand to her throbbing head. Why the hell had she gone so hard last night? Yes, she had broken up with Jesse and it was weird and emotionally draining, but it wasn’t worth that many beers.
“Hey there drunky...” 
Chloe might have just been speaking at a normal volume, but to Beca it sounded like she was screaming.
“Shhh...” Beca groaned again, grabbing the pillow next to her and putting it over her face and ears, “You’re so loud...”
Chloe giggled as she just about made out Beca’s words that had been muffled by the pillow.
“Sorry Becs.” She dropped her voice to a whisper as she gently lifted the pillow from her face, “I brought you water and some painkillers.”
“Thanks...” Beca could feel heat rising to her cheeks as fragments of the night before filtered into her mind and Beca realised that maybe she hadn’t been drunk enough, “I uh... I’m sorry about last night.”
“It’s fine.” Chloe shook her head, voice still soft, “I’m always here for you Beca, you’re my best friend.”
“Yeah.” Beca mumbled, quickly taking the painkillers and sinking back into the bed, “Look... what I said last night... I um- I was really drunk...”
“I know.” Chloe smiled fondly, “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it Becs, I promise. We’re good. Get some rest, that hangover will be awful if last night was anything to go by...”
Chloe turned to leave but was stopped when Beca’s voice carried across the room towards her.
“Um... I do y’know? Love you.”
Chloe turned back to Beca, tears making her eyes sparkle as she turned back to her. Beca looked vulnerable, no doubt heightened by her hangover, she looked small, but she also looked sincere. Chloe smiled softly as she walked back over to Beca and sat next to her on the bed, taking her hand in hers.
“I love you too. I didn’t want to say anything last night, not when you were that drunk, it felt like I’d be taking advantage of you. But I do, I love you, I love you so much...” Chloe knew she was rambling but the feeling just came out in a rush as Beca smiled softly at her, wincing a little.
“Still loud...” Beca grumbled, “But I don’t care. I uh... I should’ve kissed you. After the ICCA final in my freshman year. I wanted to.”
“Kiss me now.” Chloe breathed, leaning in so that her lips brushed over Beca’s.
“Dude, I have hangover breath.” Beca laughed softly, but made no move to push Chloe away. Why would she when this all she had wanted since her freshman year?
“I don’t care.” Chloe giggled softly, “I just want you to kiss me... I’ve always wanted you to kiss me...”
“Well how do I say no to that then?” Beca lifted her hand to rest on the back of Chloe’s neck, pulling her in as she finally pressed her lips into hers.
The kiss was far shorter than either of them wanted it to be, but Beca’s head was beginning to throb as she pulled away, her hand moving from Chloe’s neck to her cheek, stroking her thumb over it.
“I promise when I’m less hungover I’m giving you a proper first kiss.” Beca chuckled, “One with fireworks and fuzzy feelings and all that.”
“I’ll hold to you that.” Chloe grinned, running her fingers through Beca’s hair before climbing onto the bed and settling next to her, head resting on her chest as she listened to the steady beat of Beca’s heart.
“I love you Chlo.” Beca pressed a kiss into the top of her hair.
“I love you too Becs.” Chloe sighed happily, “Now rest and get rid of that hangover, because I want to do things that you’re definitely going to want a clear head for...”
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mprosperossprite · 3 years
Text
This post contains discussion of racism, misogyny, and intersection of these ideas in the TOG fandom.
Though the conversation around the racist tropes sometimes employed in depicting Joe is valuable and important, I do not have anything productive to add to that particular conversation. Instead, this post aims to examine the ways in which Nile has largely been overlooked by fan created content for The Old Guard and suggest ways in which each of us as individuals might make this fandom a more inclusive place.
One last preamble: I’m an white woman. I am speaking here from a place of ally-ship. And I am still learning how to best be an anti-racist ally in all elements of my life. This post is coming from the best of my knowledge at the moment, hoping that maybe it’ll make a difference to somebody.
Alright.
I want to begin with a story: a couple of weeks ago in the Book of Nile group chat one of our members noticed that the stories and AU’s and ideas we were constructing for each other the previous week had focused on Booker, had given Booker the extensive backstories, had articulated Booker’s complexity more thoroughly. She posted that she had noticed this along with a note along the lines of “we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns.”
So here’s a pattern that I’ve noticed that is particularly disheartening to me: Nile Freeman, a black woman and the main character of The Old Guard, has the least amount of fanworks created about her.
On AO3 she has the fewest tagged fics. On tumblr, there is much less fan art created for her. In discord servers, Nile is rarely mentioned.
This fandom has become dominated by Joe and Nicky.
I do not mean to discount Joe and Nicky. Their depiction in an action movie is groundbreaking queer representation. They are fascinating individuals and fascinating in how they make their work partnership, romantic and sexual relationship flourish for an unimaginable length of time. Their story touches on themes that have long excited storytellers: the power of love above all, fate’s matches and soulmates.
Nevertheless, the way this fandom has diminished and ignored Nile Freeman is a collective act of misogynoir. All of us are complicit.
Racism is structural. Misogyny is structural. It is no one person’s fault. It is no individual’s moral failing. None of us can single-handedly fix it.
Nile’s erasure from the TOG fandom is nobody’s fault. As the opening anecdote illustrates, even those of us who actively seek out fan communities focused on her are guilty of backburnering Nile to a white man.
But, my experience working in one of the most racist systems in the US has helped me learn that though I can’t individually end racism and misogyny (and other structural inequalities), I can be aware of how my actions might reinforce these structures, and I can make deliberate choices to make my own actions as anti-racist and as feminist as possible.
So, TOG fans who are reading this, I ask you to pay attention to the content you’re creating and consuming in this fandom.
How many stories have you read or written recently that have included Nile as a full, complex character in her own right (and not a catalyst or ancillary support for Joe or Nicky or Booker)?
How much fan-art with Nile has crossed your dash recently? What percentage of it is just Nile reacting to Joe and Nicky?
How many conversations have you had in group chats and discord servers that examine Nile’s backstory, her journey in the film, her future with a fragmented and hurting Old Guard?
How many headcanons have you crafted about Nile’s role in the guard’s little family, about the way her principles and desires might reinforce the others’ views or change them?
Furthermore, I hope that as you do this, you’ll notice the reasons that you haven’t seen or engaged with content about the film’s main character. I urge you to push beyond superficial explanations.
I just like the romance aspect of Joe and Nicky. Okay, but who’s to say Nile can’t have romance too? Booker, Andy, Quynh, heck, even reincarnated Lykon or OC’s or characters from other franchises, are all available to appreciate and love on Nile Freeman.
I usually just have one ship in a fandom. Okay, but what about fic celebrating the joys of an intercultural found family or fic delving into Nile being a badass millennial warrior? Those and others are all stories that are interesting and exciting too!
I just love that Joe and Nicky are canonically queer. Absolutely! Me too! But this isn’t a reason to shun or ignore a character whose heart and intelligence and courage drives the plot of a movie we all claim to love.
And then, once you’ve paid attention, I urge you to make a change, to work against the misogynoir in our fandom. Even small things make a difference.
Reblog just one piece of content where Nile is the focus each time you log into tumblr
Read a fic once a week in which Joe and Nicky aren’t the primary characters
Write a subplot in your current fic which explores an element of Nile’s character
When I said we can all do better, I meant it. I’m not excluded from responsibility. In case you're curious how I’m taking my own advice, here’s my plan:
I’ve been bad about reblogging anything lately, considering reblogs are the lifeblood of tumblr. I’m going to seek out some of the Nile fanart I’ve skimmed over recently and queue it up. This blog is gonna have more Nile than it even did before.
I’m going to keep writing Book of Nile and Joe/Nicky, but I also want to consider Nile’s relationship with Andy and Quynh if it was sexual and romantic and fabulously queer and polyamorous. Gotta finish my current long-fic first, but then there are some fic ideas percolating I hope to get down on paper this summer.
I’m going to seek out Andy/Nile and Andy/Quynh fic on AO3. I haven’t read very much of either of these ships and I want to see more of what these authors have to offer. (If y’all have recs, hit me up!)
So to conclude, we can’t do better if we don’t recognize the patterns. I hope you’ll join me in consciously thinking about whose narratives with the TOG universe are being prioritized and whose narratives are being ignored. I hope you’ll join me in taking action, as small as they might be, to lift up those narratives that have been overlooked due to racism and misogyny that, again, is nobody’s fault but is everyone’s responsibility.
Finally, if you’ve made it to this point, thank you for your time and attention. What we pay attention to matters, and I’m grateful that you decided to pay attention to this.
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bemylord · 3 years
Text
↠ toji with a virgin s/o ↞
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pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader.
warnings: nsfw, aged up, size kink [?], oral [fem!receiving], virgin reader, first time, lost of virginity, praising, toji calls himself daddy, grammar errors.
word counter: 3.2k
rq: I would like to request a oneshot? a hc would be appreciated too though. Toji with a virgin gf who can’t even make herself cum? Just how he would like to destroy her :)
butler's remark: (◕‿◕) hello lord, i'm back with an oneshot with toji being tremendously tender with his lover for the first time. in addition, reader is a citizen. sorry, i did it soft, bc i think toji will super-extra-super soft for the first time with his s/o, only for the first. i hope you'll like that, thanks for the request ;)
disclaimer: everything you read is purely my opinion - any detail, sketch, or event is a figment of my imagination.
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you've been an ordinary citizen and had never planned to date a sorcerer or someone close to this specialty. you ain't cowardly, merely as you were thinking you'll marry a simple man and will have kids with him, and die in one day like lovebirds.
you had never considered yourself being stuck in a relationship with a sorcerer killer.
you were overworked, virtually sleeping as were walking in the empty street, dreaming to get home as soon as possible, to feel the silk sheets against your back. the area where your office was located had little street lighting, although, you hadn't felt the anxiety of being robbed or something worse. the day went lingeringly and horrible due to the boss who declared you as a temporary deputy, piled you up with a stack of papers.
but, this is life, anything might happen. all of a sudden, you overheard something behind you but as you looked back - there was nobody, as soon as you turn your head to the starting position, you saw a young, skinny man who is holding a knife in his hand.
'hmm~ look who's here, a young, gorgeous lady..' he said with his disgusting, lewd voice, coming closer to you. 'would you mind playing with me? don't be shy or els-'
you have a perky personality, no doubt, but because of how hard the day was, you had one option - run for the hills. before you could do any movements as if hit the man or run away, something prompt hit him, like a swift meteorite that you couldn't see. a cloud of dust grew around you and the man, so you hide your face in the elbow curve, covering your mouth with another hand.
as soon as the dust had settled, in front of you opened up on the view of an adult man. he was high, had an athletic, broad-shouldered, pretty impressive figure. your savior held the blade in one hand, flopped on his back.
'he ran away like a coward. don't worry, girl, you saved, thanks to me' he laughed, he stroked himself on the shoulder, as were about to leave the dead body.
'no i'm not! i'd have protected myself on my own'
you refuted his smugness, watching as he slowly moves his torso in your way, flaunting his outlining muscles through the fabric of the black t-shirt. his complacent eyes and the sharp scar over the right side of the mouth on the edge of his lips. you took a deep breath, continuing on your path as he isn't standing there, not hadn't protected you.
'you're too weak to beat even him, if not me, you'd be-'
'i am stronger as i may look'
he giggled, in a flash stood in front of you, bending over to your face, by finger tugs your face up to look at him directly in eyes, smirked.
'are you sure, girl?'
those green, almost emerald, but cold eyes looked directly into yours as two faces were as closed as you could kiss his lips.
'i'll walk you home'
'i don't want to, and anyway, maybe you're his partner in crime, leave me alon-'
previous to you had finished your phrase, he threw your tiny body on his shoulder, leisurely walking, better say, carrying you home. you beat his back, softly reminiscent of a parody of the word 'let me go, moron, i can walk by myself'
'tch, fine, idiot,' he deliberately shrugged his shoulder to close your mouth as heard the name you had given him. 'by the way, what's your name or you prefer the name idiot?' you said sarcastically.
'for you it's toji'
well.
as a result of your crawl and also being talkative when clearly you shouldn't be, you ended up being in a relationship with a man, who'd obviously fuck you on the first date, as it may count as a 'date', anywhere-anytime, by the way.
although you wouldn't ever say he isn't hot or sexy, conversely, you willingly allow him to breed, precisely you'd beg toji to breed you on the straightaway on the cervix, but for one thing.
you're a virgin.
hilariously - it's true. nothing bad to be in your age a virgin, but if you weren't dating toji it'd fine: his dirty jokes and lustful eyes which are maddening you insane, also his fucking athletic body which is outlining through the t-shirt or white cotton shirt [he wear it once] you thought he did it purposely: he knew your secret, undoubtedly could sniff your chaste nature as if you can emit fragrance.
on the second date, it had been nine days since you got acquainted with him, as you moved in with him. toji was exceedingly obsessed with every step of yours - he followed you from the work, in the mall or market, for your security and control every guy who'd be close to you.
although, you couldn't hide your addiction - he's a drug you should be careful with or you might be addicted as if you ain't. he isn't wearing pants in home, walking in front of you solely in underwear. he could walk from the shower in a terry towel wrapped around his torso as he buries his hands in his dark hair mess it up.
'what are you looking at, girl?'
you couldn't take your eyes off his bulging..
'you. just you. i'm gonna cook dinner, something.. special?'
'eggs, baby'
fushiguro put hands above the door frame, exhale and tensed every muscle, narrowing predatory eyes as you were the extraction he was target for. you're laying on his king size bed [lol i'm sorry i'm out], wondering is everything he has gotten measured in king size as he interupted your reflection by putting the knee on the edge of the bed.
'mine. in your pussy'
as if you're bewitched - you couldn't talk, just contemplate as he leisurely moves towards you. you couldn't contravene as he tugs your face to ogle in your absentminded eyes as you're avoiding his gaze, looking at the ceiling or door or even window. not. at. his. bulge.
your heart had stuck in your throat when toji ran his hand under his shirt, certainly, he has a kink of dominion, when he suddenly stopped. despite of your uncertainty and timid of subsequent play, you looked at his emerald eyes as he licks his lips with a tongue.
'are you sure, baby girl? i mean, it's your first time after all'
you quell your forthcoming question staring deeply into lascivious eyes, put hands on his massive shoulders. as you anticipated, his cock twitched as toji letting out a low groan in your ear, kissing your temple. you're absentmindedly running finger pads on his back, not knowing the proximity of bodies that are readiness wanted to intertwine together. not knowing how much it turns him on.
'stop me if i go crazy over your body, okay?'
as if. as if you dare would rip out his tongue off your crotch as he makes you his woman. toji left on your red cheeks quick kisses, took off the towel. you shut your eyes tight, still holding his shoulders barely squeeze them, letting out a hushed moan.
after you quelled your moan, toji touched your lips against his one, running fingers on your lower stomach to the cup of the breast without touching the hard nipple. light movements mixed with his muted groans. his pads deftly touched one areola as you emitted a sharp purr, arching your back a little as a dulcet sign for toji.
you dug your fingers into toji's back, as he put a finger on your hard nipple, holding himself as to grab your tits and clench it in his large hand.
you gasp for the air as if there was a catastrophic shortage of it due to the pressed body of toji. you responded at his deep kiss, wrapping hands around his neck, apparently begging for something more.
he pulled away from the kiss just to take off the shirt he has given you, baring your untouched by no one but him tits, leading palms onto breasts, skipping nipples between the gaps through fingers. he reached down to your lips to give a bit of warning kiss as he slightly bit your lip, kissing all the way down to your collarbone, finally leaving there manifestations of hickeys.
for how long toji has been stopped from leaving on your stunning skin his marks? it seems it has been absolutely not many days but toji, as you may see, clearly has to leave labels on your neck.
he dug his teeth into your neck, frantically wants your area to be dotted by him as a token for everyone meaning: she's taken, dude, don't mess up with her.
for how long toji has been stopped from touching your sensitive area as having been feel warmth and tenderness is emitted from your body?
toji squeezes your nipple imponderable, to make you feel some kind of power over you becoming submitted by toji fushiguro, a sorcerer killer, a man who owned you, spinning the pea between pads, making you let out whimpers.
'you drive me insane, little one,' he approached his face close to the breasts, touched your pea with his tongue cautiously, as not to frighten you away. 'i'm gonna make your pussy drool beneath me, completely own you as my little girl'
you feel yourself gush beneath him, burying hands in his messy hair as your breath has stuck in the throat as toji snuggles his lips on your tits, sucking your hard and probably swollen from teasing. fushiguro has made you became wet in your panties as he's moistening your breast, hearing your precipitous whimpers.
'toj-toji, i don't know-'
'tch, little girl, relax your body and let daddy do the rest'
as he pronounced, he moves down, leaving the trace of wet kisses on your stomach, massaging your hips, stopping his action to look at your red face. your chest heaves heavily every time you feel toji's silky lips on your belly as his finger pads caressing your thighs. as if something weighty is resting on your chest you take deep breathes, breathlessly exhaling.
'spread your legs'
you obediently did what he said, hesitating a bit as the only fabric holding him back to bury his mouth against your pussy, assembling all juices, tasting your cum as if it's his meal. he rested kisses on the fabric of panties, couldn't sate with tender kisses he spreads on your body.
deliberately run tongue on your labia through the thin fabric as you were about to push his hand from your crotch as toji grab you by the hips, pulling you closer. he slackens his teasing actions by kissing your inner thighs. as your cunt was lack of attention from toji, you let out a pliant whimper, approximately woefully have purred.
toji's self-restraint thinning as you're silently begging with your eyes and your hands immeasurably are burying in his dark hair. the tip of his tongue deftly sideline panties, flicked it, as he discovered a divine view on your drooling hole.
'stop me now, because i won't be able to hold back later'
teasufully kissing your labia and area around the place he should be playing with as anticipating for some pliant whimpers of you, deliberately showing you he'll lick that swollen clit, pressing a soft kiss on the skin instead. fushi's shattering your hopes of being eating every time he kissed literally everything and lick everywhere besides your hole and clit. he acts like an inexperienced teenager, notwithstanding, you know that toji'd ruin or demolish your holes like a monster.
't-toji..'
'yes, my little girl' he pressed the tip of his tongue on your clit, hearing those moans he's willing to listen for the rest of his life, then take away as you were about to press his mouth back again, digging his tongue deep inside you, although he obviously couldn't reach to your cervix, barely permeate in your hole.
'you want me to eat your little pussy?'
as if you can't talk, you nodded. scarcely reached up to take off the last thing, leisurely pulling down the panties, staring at you as a predator. toji is standing on his knee on the bed, threw your ankles on his shoulders, smooching ankles watching as to how your cheeks are becoming pinky, as you try not to look at his dick. still, you're a timid one, despite your words.
he reached to your face to give you a voluptuous kiss, returning to the starting position.
'look at your pretty pussy'
he kissed your clit in a flash replace into the tongue, making a circles on swollen and needy spot, decisively giving you what've been begging for. running the tip of the tongue on your virgin hole, leaving it for the dessert, returning to your clit.
you'd swear to god you can see stars in the ceiling as toji squeezing your nipples while moistening you. the proximity of his face in your pussy is driving you insane, for the days of cohabitation you understood he isn't a tender one, vice versa, he'd fuck you whenever his dick gets erect. maybe it's a rush of tenderness, maybe it's the fear of hurting his girl. nevertheless, you not scared to give toji full control of your body and bring you to your first orgasm by ripping the hymen. if that's i may call the way he's licking you, it'd be make-out with your pussy, due to his relentless movements by flicking his tongue on the clit.
'baby,' he pulled away from it, as you squeeze a sheet, making your knuckles become whiten as you spread legs wider, watching his mocking grin appeared on the face. 'i'll be gentle' he pressed his lips on your forehead, taking from the bedside table lubrication to low the friction. although, the thought of his dick ripped the hymen, putting all his tenderness in your first time, make your knees get shaken.
he put a soft kiss on your lips, smearing lubrication on his dick, substitute cock on the entrance. abrupt and penetrating pain wavily covered your body as you feel soft lips covered your mouth, blunting the pain with one hand being dug in your hip, painting illegible traces. another hand he put on your cheek, drawing circles with his thumb, waiting till getting used to the pain.
toji will find lots of red stripes from your nails on his back, smirked, as reminiscing about that special night when he made you his woman. his broad back was made merely for you to leave thousand and thousand fingernail impressions every night. toji had let a low groan as he feels as you move fingertips to the neck, exhaling in his chest.
he entered all his dick inside you feeling as your walls compressing the base, getting used to being full with his thick cock. you're indulging at the new, mind-blowing feeling, give him sheepish kisses as you're scared to be rejected. he moves his palm from the cheek to the ear, running fingers through your tangled but soft to the touch. you nudged your hips up, intermittently letting your breath out.
'tch, if you're not feeling well, i can come-'
'more, toji, more'
without breaking up kiss, he pulled out cock to the tip as pulling it again slowly, stretching your walls, touching with the tip your cervix as his balls touching your ass, groaning in the kiss, softly caress your thigh. you moved your palms to the shoulder, touching the musculature, going down to the biceps wrapping his arm as another hand attempting to draw patterns on the back as if it a canvas for you.
you can feel every vein, curve, and the way his tip is expanding gummy walls, as toji diligently coming in, adjusting inside you then pulling out. you're focusing on how full you're with his cock inside, your clarity gradually getting mushed as the sharp pain turning into a pleasurable and delightful feeling. sating to the new feeling might get addiction, but you're far beyond to accept that, surrendering to your lover as he gets addicted to it. you grasp for his shoulders, as he nudged in you, leaving whimpers from your mouth.
'like that, huh?' he pulled his cock out to contemplate as your facial expression have changed: you furrowed eyebrows as felt your hole being empty without thick toji's cock, practically purring like a march cat. 'beg me for it, baby'
what an insatiable man you've got. he licked his lips, looking down on it. your hymen has left blood, as he glanced at you to see his future wife your reaction.
'i-i toji, it's..'
he hummed, returning to your lips, slowly giving back the missing part.
'you okay?' you nodded as a response; he's perceiving fullness as wants to fill you up, but desperately be tempered himself, blaming he didn't wear a condom to do it. a dozen of half-moons will be littering your hips as toji's digging nails, scrambled your mind with squelches pushes in your hole. 'relax, baby girl, i'm here' he thrusts inside the spongy spot, ripping another moan out of you, voluptuous to his ears. 'baby~ you tease me with those moans of yours'
his cock was aimed at a place inside your vagina, with a slow but deep thrust skillfully reaching your cervix, massaging with the tip of his cock that spot. toji's staring at your pleased, satisfied face as he found that needy place of yours.
holding on to the headboard in the bed as support, clutching the sheet with his other hand like the composure he was rapidly losing with each thrust into your hole, formerly virgin cunt, letting out a heavy sigh, tilting his head back.
wiggling the pelvis backward and forwards as heard beneath his body your whimpers, feeling replenishment on his skin to his previous strips, losing remains self-control as your walls have been clenching his cock, as your body gets shaking as his, preparing the body for the coming ecstasy.
'toji, mh~' you tilted the head back on the pillow, wrapping legs around his pelvis, quelling moans while arching back against his chest. you're milked [? correct if i'm wrong] his cock, shuddering. you felt his lips on your cheeks, as he's covering your wet face in kisses, pulling cock out.
'damn, baby, probably-' he stroke his hard cock a couple of times before releasing his cum onto your belly. fushiguro ran fingers from the hairline, wiping beads of sweat from the hairline through hair. 'are you good?'
as you're still catching your breath you rested on your face a slight smile, closing eyes. he giggled, getting out of bed.
'almost made a baby' it took him a second or two, to lift you up in my arms, leading into the bathroom. 'i'm gonna clean you up, my baby. but you could fall asleep in my arms, you did such a good job by taking my cock' he kissed your forehead, wiping your drops of sweat.
'i love you, toji'
he put you on the washing machine, turning away from you to fill the tub. what went unnoticed was his relaxed smile after your phrase.
'i love you more, little one'
(◕‿◕)
↳ back to the main master list.
i feel i made lots of mistakes, like, idk. correct me if smth i did wrong.
i remember my promise to do one more work with toji, so lately i'll write hdc + drabble with him.
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Text
The Other Side of the Storm
Summary: Spencer & Luke are not out as a couple but have to attend the same FBI gala where a young, pretty agent insists on flirting with Luke. Misunderstandings and surprising reveals ensue.
Tags: relationship reveal, secret relationship, coming out, jealousy, caught, hurt/comfort, autistic spencer, angst with a happy ending, misunderstandings, found family, est. rel., cuddling & snuggling, domestic fluff
Pairing: Luke Alvez x Spencer Reid
Word Count: 2.7k
Masterlist // Read on AO3
Lets pretend I didn't just disappear for a couple of weeks bc I'm BACK now yay! This is written for a prompt from @ralvezhq who asked: "Ralvez is already dating but no one knows about them yet. they get invited to some sort of FBI gala and a young, accomplished female agent won’t stop flirting with luke and spencer is absolutely not having it so he finds a way to let everyone know they are together." -- I stuck to it except that they're caught rather than willingly confessing, I hope that's okay! I really enjoyed this one, so I hope you do as well.
!!!TW: the woman is very insistent on her flirting and makes Luke uncomfortable when she touches his chest without his consent!!!
“Any particular reason you keep looking over at that table full of Fugitive Task Force members, Spence?” JJ asks amusedly, sipping from her wine glass.
“Mm, I’ve noticed you looking over there a little bit,” Tara muses. “You got your eye on someone?”
Spencer looks down and forces a laugh, but he can feel the tips of his ears turning pink, and knows that he’s not gonna hear the end of this for the rest of the night. The team have never been fond of the FBI Galas they’re forced into attending every year, and unfortunately, Hotch’s usual stunt of pulling a non-urgent case from the stack and jetting off to some far-flung corner of the country to avoid it failed to fool the director this time.
He’d broken the news to them at the start of the week, and conversation in the bullpen has pretty much exclusively revolved around the event ever since. Even Penelope, who loves seeing people win awards and dressing up in her favourite full-glam outfits, has been significantly less upbeat. She only gave him one spontaneous hug all week.
None of them, though, have been dreading it more than Spencer. The others aren’t exactly fond of the faux smiles and convoluted politics and fake niceties either, sure, but tonight he has far more to lose than ever before. Namely, the man sat just out of his direct eye line at the Fugitive Task Force table.
Ironically, he and Luke had gotten ready for the same event together. They’d stood in the mirror side by side and tied one another’s ties in the way that always makes Spencer smile and Luke had gently brushed his hair out of eyes, but when it came time to leave, Spencer called a rideshare, and Luke drove the truck, arriving at completely different times in completely different vehicles.
The thing is, that as much as he loves his team, and as much as the FBI fraternisation policy has been significantly relaxed over the last few years, no one can know they’re together and have been for the last eight months.
Even the thought of Derek or Hotch or even JJ finding out — not only that he’s dating someone but that that person is a man — makes him feel queasy.
Which is why he smiles around an awkward cough and forces himself to meet the eyes of his profiler teammates, fighting every instinct in him to run, leg it out of here, never show your face again.
“No, I’m just looking at the clock above them,” he lies, and it isn’t smooth in any way shape or form but it’ll have to do. “You know I can’t wait for this to end. I haven’t read any Carl Jung in weeks.”
Tara laughs, raising her wine glass slightly. “Now that I understand.”
“Nah, I’m not so sure,” Derek grins slyly, “I think my man has his eye on some girl and he’s just getting a little shy, am I right, pretty boy?” He quirks an eyebrow playfully, leaning over to pat him on the back, and Spencer scrambles to recover.
“Believe whatever you’d like, Morgan,” he says, bringing his own glass to his lips to conceal any tells in his expression. “Doesn’t make it any less false.”
Thankfully, the conversation is interrupted by the Director clearing his throat into the mic on the stage as he introduces the next round of awards. Spencer loses himself in the anonymity of a dark room and a clapping audience, grateful that he’s avoided this round of interrogation.
The rest of the night progresses similarly. Spencer tries to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table — and valiantly attempts to keep from blushing like a schoolgirl when their eyes meet and Luke’s lips quirk upwards in an I-tried-to-stop-it-but-I-just-can’t kind of smile — and the rest of his team rib him pretty relentlessly about this ‘girl’ he supposedly has his eye on.
Hotch tries to get the team to leave him alone, but when a group of skilled, determined profilers all a little tipsy on wine and champagne encounter a friend’s mysterious love life, it’s pretty difficult to stand in their way.
Once dessert is served, though, things rapidly go downhill.
As much as he’s been trying to keep his eyes away from Luke’s table, it’s almost impossible to prevent his gaze from straying in a temporary moment of cognitive lapse every now and then, and while everyone is relatively quiet and occupied, digging into the Belgian waffle dessert, it happens once again. This time, though, instead of a small smile from Luke, he’s rewarded with the frankly heart-stopping sight of a young, pretty agent practically sitting in his lap, trying to feed him dessert.
He looks uncomfortable, and immediately Spencer is hit with an overwhelming wave of insecurity, jealousy, and an urge to protect that strangles his breath for a moment. He stares unabashedly, no longer caring whether anyone sees him because that’s his boyfriend and an extremely pretty woman is all over him and he looks like he wants her to stop, and oh my god, what does he do?
“Is that the girl you like all over that dude?” Derek asks sympathetically, catching onto Spencer’s staring. “It’s alright, man, if she’d choose someone else over you then she’s not right for you anyway. Why don’t you come and enjoy your dessert?”
Spencer senses the rest of the team’s eyes on him, but they don’t say anything, probably from a combination of pity, awkwardness, and confidence in Derek to counsel him through it. He’s hardly cognisant of that, though, instead a roar of emotion crashing through his mind, and he has no idea what to do about it.
When he sees a perfectly manicured hand land directly on Luke’s chest, though; when he sees Luke reject her more firmly, this time pushing her away; when he watches as she clearly gears herself up for some sad protest of self-victimisation, he sees red.
Before he can stop himself, he’s storming across the room over to Luke’s table. “Hi,” he says firmly, audibly pissed off and not in the mood for bullshit, “do you mind if I borrow my friend here? I have some official FBI business to discuss with him. Thanks.”
Without waiting for a response, he grabs Luke’s arm and leads him to the corridor outside the main hall, Luke following quickly and willingly behind him.
“Are you okay?” Spencer asks with his brow furrowed, his hand coming up to gently rest on Luke’s waist as he peers at him concernedly through the dim lighting of the hallway.
“Yes, baby, I’m fine,” Luke smiles reassuringly, raising a hand to Spencer’s face. “I’m sorry you had to see that. She was… persistent.”
“She shouldn’t have made you uncomfortable like that,” Spencer insists, still feeling distressed and anxious despite the immediate situation having been diffused.
“You’re right,” Luke agrees. “And she should’ve listened to me when I told her I was taken. I’m sorry you had to see someone flirting with me so openly like that, carinõ, I know you still get insecure about things like that.”
Spencer sighs, relaxing slowly the more he hears Luke’s voice as steady and strong and kind as it always is. He steps forward and buries his face in Luke’s neck as he nestles in close for a comforting hug.
“You know I only have eyes for you, right, sweetheart?” Luke whispers softly, one arm holding his waist and another tangling itself in Spencer’s loose curls.
He nods into Luke’s neck, but doesn’t make any move to pull away, just enjoying the warmth and closeness of standing so intimately with the man he loves until—
“Spencer!” Derek’s voice pulls him violently from his sweet escape from reality and horror instantly floods him as he jerks away from Luke, staring at Derek in a nauseating mixture of alarm and trepidation.
“What…” Derek stares right back at him as both JJ and Tara come tumbling through the doors behind him, looking ready for a fight—
Oh. That makes sense. They all saw him storming towards a woman they thought he had a crush on, then pull the man she was flirting with out into the most secluded corridor surrounding the hall. Even considering Spencer’s character, he has to admit that the circumstances definitely look like he was gearing up for a fight, and everyone knows that he is not the kind of person who could hold his own against an ex-military man who chases down criminals for a living.
“You’re… not fighting him,” Derek says hesitantly, the puzzle pieces clearly falling into place for him.
Spencer shakes his head minutely, and is only thankful when Luke inches closer and wraps an arm around him. After all, he has nothing more to lose.
“You were looking at him, not her,” Derek continues slowly.
Spencer nods, unable to meet the eyes of any of the three friends standing in front of him.
“You’re dating him,” he says, still sounding shocked, his voice almost entirely numb. “You’re gay.”
“Or bisexual,” Tara offers, and Spencer takes a little comfort in the fact that she doesn’t sound shocked or upset, her voice warm and helpful. He tries to meet her eye, but he can’t work up the courage and buries closer into Luke’s embrace instead.
“Gay,” he whispers.
“Spence,” JJ says quietly, earnestly, “why didn’t you tell us?”
It’s too much to go into right now, too convoluted and long of a story for him to explain when even choking out a single syllable takes a herculean effort, so he shrugs instead.
“We were talking all night assuming you were interested in a woman,” Derek says numbly, more to himself than anything, but Spencer watches out of the corner of his eye as he shakes off the shock and comes back to himself, slowly putting more of the puzzle together as he looks at Spencer. “That’s why you didn’t tell us. We’ve been making assumptions all this time and hurting you in the process.”
“Oh, Spence,” JJ whispers sadly, stepping a little closer.
“I’m so sorry, pretty boy, I— I should’ve known or tried to be more inclusive at least, I’m so sorry I made you feel like this.”
The regret in his friends’ voices and the absence of a negative reaction brings him out of the safety of Luke’s arms slightly. His boyfriend is eyeing him with serious concern, and he tries a smile to reassure him a little, squeezing his hand.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he manages, clearing his throat awkwardly as he finally succeeds in making eye contact. “It’s a long story and I’ll tell you another time, but, uh​​— this is Luke. We’ve been together for eight months, two weeks, and four days.”
Luke smiles fondly. “As much as we didn’t expect to reveal it like this, it’s nice to meet all of you properly,” Luke says warmly, shaking everyone’s hands quickly before stepping back to Spencer and interlocking their fingers, pressing a quick but meaningful kiss to his temple.
“I’m really glad you felt able to share this with us, Spence,” Tara says encouragingly, smiling at him in that bright, reassuring way of hers that rivals Penelope in the warmth and comfort it radiates. “I’m proud of you.”
Something about her reaction this entire time has him wondering whether she already knew. He’ll ask her later when he feels less like his heart is still firmly lodged in his throat.
“Me too, kid,” Derek agrees, smiling as well. Spencer wonders whether the initial shock and numb reaction was more a response to his own behaviour than anything about him and Luke, and the thought makes him feel substantially better.
JJ grins, stepping forward and grabbing Spencer’s other hand. “Me three.”
Before anyone can say anything else, the doors are opening again and Penelope is flying through them.
“Oh! Thank god you’re all okay! You just ran off after Spencer and I left you guys to it because I thought you could handle it better than I could but then you didn’t come back and even Hotch was worried, and—” she cuts herself off as she realises everyone staring at her, and slowly she takes in the scene around her. “Oh my god, I’ve missed something. Oh my god, I missed a moment, didn’t I? What have I told you guys about having moments without me? Someone tell me what happened, please, before I explode—”
“Alright, Penelope,” Spencer chuckles, interrupting her. He’s known her for too long to expect her to cut herself off when she’s on a tirade like that. “Uh, this is Luke. My boyfriend.”
“Your… your boyfriend? Oh my god, I finally get to meet him? Wait you told the others? Oh my god I’ve missed so much!”
“Penelope knew?” Derek asks, surprised.
“Half of mine and Spencer’s mutual friends are FBI Agents, and the other half are drag queens, of course I knew,” Penelope dismisses him, “but he wasn’t ready for me to meet his boyfriend yet or even know his name and I very nicely did not go hunting to find him out because I could’ve done that, but I didn’t, because I value you so much as a friend, Spencer, and I’m so glad you finally—”
“Penelope!” Spencer interjects, laughing even more as the tension and distress he’d felt only minutes ago finally melts away fully. “Do you actually want to introduce yourself to Luke, or do you want to keep rambling about drag queens?”
“Right! Yes!” she says eagerly, turning to Luke. “I’m Penelope and it is so nice to meet you, like you don’t even know how much I’ve wanted to meet the man who has my blueberry muffin blushing bright pink in the corner of my batcave while he texts on the phone, and I know you call him carinõ because I saw a text once and it’s the sweetest nickname ever, you are just the cutest, and we are going to be best friends—”
Spencer rests his head on Luke’s shoulder as he listens fondly to Penelope rambling and his friends chatting amongst themselves and everyone getting to know the most important man in his life — the only man he’s ever wanted anything long term with, the only man he’s ever wanted to actually marry one day — and a warm, sweet feeling of contentment floods his chest.
It’s far from the way he thought he’d feel after the team found about Luke, and he savours it, holds it in his mouth for as long as he can before swallowing the memory and filing it away to treasure forever. A moment like this deserves that kind of reverence.
“How are you feeling about tonight?” Luke asks gently as they crawl into bed, tired but happy at gone 2am. He pulls Spencer into his side as soon as they’re under the duvet, resting his chin on his head as he always does.
Moments like these make Spencer smile, the kind of familiar routine that’s so essential to their relationship. Luke had figured out early on that close physical contact and firm touches make him feel safe and settle his racing mind, so they’d worked out positions that made them both feel comfortable, and now relaxing into them is second nature.
“A bit weird,” Spencer admits after thinking for a moment. “I’m happy that they know now and everyone took it well, but it’s strange. A significant part of who I am has been not only that I’m gay, but the dedication I felt to protecting that secret. And now that it’s out, it feels like something private has been bared for my friends to inspect.”
“I think that’s only natural,” Luke muses quietly, pressing a kiss to Spencer’s curls. “It’ll take some getting used to, but you’ll adjust eventually.”
Spencer sighs. “Yeah, you’re right. After I tackle telling Hotch and Rossi, it’ll be nice not to have to hide it. I’ll be able to talk about you at work and maybe even go crazy and put a photo of you on my desk.”
“Wow, that is wild, check you out,” Luke chuckles, before they settle into a comfortable silence in the warm glow of their bedroom. Eventually, he speaks up though, quiet and reverent. “I’m proud of you, carinõ. I really am.”
The words instantly make Spencer smile, a light blush tinging his ears again. He hides his face in Luke’s chest, scooching impossibly closer into his arms. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too, Spencer,” Luke replies, a happy sigh in his voice.
He reaches over and turns off the bedside lamp. His hand returns to Spencer’s hair and something clicks into place somewhere, a fundamental alignment of the universe that brings a feeling of something so incredibly right as their breathing rhythmically matches to one another and they slide into the welcome embrace of sleep.
I hope you enjoyed that! I had a lot of fun with this one. If anyone has any more ralvez relationship reveal prompts, feel free to send them my way!
Taglist: @criminalmindsvibez @suburban--gothic @strippersenseii @takeyourleap-of-faith @makaylajadewrites @iamrenstark @hotchseyebrows @reidology @spencerspecifics @tobias-hankel @marsjareau @hotchscotchh @oliverbrnch @im-autistic @thataveragenerd @anxious-enby @kuolonsyoja @ropoto @cmily @nudgerox @love-pyramus @notevanbuckley @downwiththedoorpoole @nomajdetective (Add yourself to my taglist here!)
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oopsitszuli · 3 years
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“Lady Shinazugawa” Sanemi Shinazugawa x F!S/O
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Authors note: If you’re seeing this again, my last account got deleted *sobs*
Warnings: Sanemi being uncharacteristically soft
——————————————————————————-
“Goodnight Lady Shinazugawa!”
The farewell of the final lingering demon slayer cut through the night as he called back to his trainer before turning on his heel and retreating to the demon slayers shared quarters that resided a little ways outside of The wisteria Hashiras mountian home.
“Goodnight Shibo!”
[Name], the wisteria Hashira, smiled after a moment of brief confusion. The door quickly closed, and once the familiar ‘click’ of the Shoji door was heard she turned on her heel and began to make her way to the main house of her estate.
[Name] walked silently down a wisteria tree lined and dimly lit white rock path while thinking back at the day’s activities. It was currently the first week of Hashira Training and her first batch of students were surprisingly living up to her expectations, many of them only learning throwing knife techniques at the beginning of the week and already mastering their marksmanship with said knives.
“I might need to reach out to Mister Tecchin and see if he can make some more knives for the kids....”
She said softly to herself as she continued to make her way up the path, lost in her thought as she walked alone.
Suddenly, a soft breeze graced the night and [Name] stopped in her tracks to take in a deep breath of the crisp late night air, her Haori swaying gently in the cool breeze.
“You look exhausted.”
A voice cut through the serene night, effectively causing [Name] to jump slightly and quickly turn on her heel to face the owner of the deep voice. Strong waves of relief crashed over her as she noticed the familiar figure of the wind Hashira, Sanemi Shinazugawa.
“Well hello to you too, Sanemi.” She chuckled softly while taking a few steps closer to him, quickly feeling his rough hand gently grip her waist and pull her into his arms.
“I.....missed you.” He softly admitted while wrapping his muscular arms around her and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“I missed you too, darling.” [Name] smiled sweetly while her hands gently traced circles across his broad and muscular shoulders. They stood together in silence for a moment before [Name] felt herself being effortlessly lifted off the ground, instinctively she wrapped her legs around sanemis waist.
“Sanemi! I thought we agreed that you would stop picking me up!” She chided as the white haired male started to make his way up to her mountian home.
“I didn’t agree to shit.” He said while softly scoffing, [Name] rolled her eyes in response and rested her head on his shoulder before gently starting to play with his fluffy white hair.
After a few minutes of silence, Sanemi walked up the stairs of her platformed estate and began to gently set his lover down on the wooden pavilion. After he was sure she was standing on her own he stood up straight and looked to the woman as she turned and began to unlock the door in front of them.
“I assume your lingering means you plan on staying the night? Usually you’ve already run off by now.” [Name] asked as she opened the dark oak door and started to make her way inside the dark and quiet house.
“Am I not allowed to just want to spend time with you?” The white haired male chuckled as he followed her inside, closing and locking the door behind them after they had made it in.
“Nope! Sanemi Shinazugawa is banned from my humble abode!” [Name] smirked as she turned on her heel to face Sanemi, quickly giving him a gentle flick on the nose before turning away and making her way further into her house so she could turn on a few lanterns. Sanemi stood dumbfounded by the door for a minute before snapping back to reality.
“What?! Why am I banned from your house?!” Sanemi asked as he chased after his lover, he found her in the master bedroom where she was lighting a few lanterns.
“Because, Nemi, one of my students called me ‘Lady Shinazugawa’ today and I can only assume you have something to do with that.”
She chided while finishing lightning the lanterns, slipping off her Haori, then turning back to face the taller male who looked like he had just been caught breaking out of a high security prison.
“Heh- well ya see....” He scrambled for words to explain himself as [Name] held back a chuckle.
“Sanemi are you telling my trainees that we are married?” She asked gently while hanging up her Haori then crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.
“Only so they don’t try to get cozy with you! I don’t need one of those weak ass idiots thinking they can fool around and be all flirty with you!” He snapped quickly, a soft chuckle fell from [Name]s lips as she gently shook her head and let her arms fall to her sides while she walked over to Sanemi, who now resided in front of the closed doorway.
“Nemi. You’re an idiot, my idiot, but still an idiot.” She giggled softly while bringing her soft hands up to his cheeks and gently caressing them, he leaned into her touch and rolled his eyes.
“You cant blame me for being careful, you remember what that agatsuma kid did!” Sanemi argued while bringing his hands up to rest on his girlfriends waist.
[Name]s thoughts lingered for a moment, recalling the time one of Genyas friends proposed to her in front of all of the other Hashira, much to sanemis distaste, she giggled softly at the memory.
“He was just being silly. I think he’s proposed to all of the girls by now.” [Name] smiled up at her boyfriend who only rolled his eyes in response.
“Still. If anyone’s gonna marry you it’s gonna be me.” He claimed proudly before a heavy blush rose to his cheeks and he looked away from her, realizing what he had just said.
“Awwwe nemi! You’re such a softie.” She teased while standing on her tiptoes and placing a kiss on his scarred cheek then a quick kiss at the corner of his mouth, barely missing his lips.
“Softie?! Did you hit your-“ Sanemi whipped his head back around to face [Name] but was cut off by her lips crashing with his, his eyes fluttered shut as he returned her kiss and held her close to him, his arms quickly wrapping around her waist.
He missed having moments like these with her.
They had both been so caught up in training and teaching that they rarely had time alone together anymore, and he hated it.
He was quickly brought out of his thoughts due to the feeling of her soft lips leaving his and sanemis eyes snapped open as a heavy blush stayed painted across his face.
“I love you.” [Name] said softly as her hands started to retreat from sanemis blush stained cheeks.
“I love you too, but don’t tell anyone I said that.” Sanemi responded with a large smirk, [Name] chuckled before freeing herself from his arms and taking a few steps away from him then reaching up and putting her hands in the air while taking in a deep breath.
“Sanemi Shinazugawa said he loved me!!” She bellowed out with a smile on her face and her hands gently waving in the air. Sanemis laughter erupted through the room and was soon accompanied by [Names], after a moment of laughter Sanemi quickly made his way over to her and started to tickle up and down her sides.
“I told you not to tell anyone! Now you must face the wrath of the wind Hashira!” He proclaimed loudly as [Name] cried with laughter. She struggled against him and before she knew it, she was on the ground and underneath him as he continued his attack on her sides.
“But I only said it to you!” She choked out through loud and broken laughter but Sanemi didn’t cease his attack.
“Doesnt matter my love! You still broke the rules!” He smiled proudly, his nose scrunching as he did. [Name]s hands found their way to his wrists and she struggled to pull his hands off of her.
“You’re evil Sanemi! Absolutely down right evil!” She proclaimed as she pried his strong hands from her sides and held them away from her, panting softly as she tried to regain her breath.
“Evil?! Your words have wounded me!” Sanemi pulled his hands away from her grasp then dramatically rolled off of her, slinging his arm over his forehead as he laid next to her on the floor of her dimly lit bedroom. [Name] giggled and after regaining her breath she propped herself up on her elbows and twisted her head so she was facing the male next to her.
“They wound you?! Oh my! Do you need first aid? Perhaps a healing kiss?” She smiled before sitting up a little more, Sanemi shot up and faced her after the word ‘kiss’ fell from her lips.
“A million healing kisses would do just the trick!” He said as a huge grin lined his battle-scarred face.
“A million?! Do you think we have time for that?” She rolled her eyes but the evil smirk that was quickly pained across sanemis face told her that he meant what he said.
“We have all night darling...so yes, we do have time for that.” Sanemis smirk widened as he began to lean closer to [Names] now flushed face, he was about an inch away from her lips when he felt himself be pushed away by a hand to his cheek.
“Oh no sir. You’re still in trouble for tickling me. Which means none of anything your implying.” [Name] announced before standing up and making her way to her closet to find clothes to change into, Sanemi fell back on the floor and let out a dramatic groan.
“Fine.” He complained in a drawn out manner before leaning up and picking himself up and off of the floor. [Name] smiled softly as she pulled out one of her favorite yukatas and examined it before setting it to the side, she closed her closet and turned back around to face Sanemi who was now going through his dedicated drawer and looking for something to change into.
“If you’re looking for the green yukata I think it’s in the drawer above.” [Name] said softly while slipping off the outer shirt of her uniform, Sanemi gave a curt nod and opened the wooden drawer above the one he was previously looking through.
A few minutes passed and after the pair had changed into something more comfortable, the lanterns were extinguished and curtains were closed. Sanemi gently grabbed [Name] and led her to bed before pulling her down so she was lying next to him, her head resting on his shoulder and his arm gently wrapped around her figure.
“Sanemi?” Her soft voice broke through the darkness.
“Yeah?” He responded softly before placing a quick kiss on the top of her head to let her know that she had his attention.
“I like the idea of my last name being Shinazugawa.” She said softly, The familiar blush Sanemi usually sported around her returning quickly.
“Well then....we’ll have to do something and make it permanent.” He smiled softly at the idea of them being married, the idea of a life not fighting demons, a quiet life that just the two of them could share...he dreamed of the day those thoughts would become reality.
“Yes....we will.”
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fivelakesinwriting · 3 years
Text
Slummin' It - Part 2 (Barry - OBX)
Author's Notes: I wanted to write a "prequel" of sorts to the first Slummin' It. I liked the dynamic of the first one so much, and I thought it gave it some back story - and I named Barry's girl for this story (I'm not entirely sold on her name, I have another one in the back on my head - let me know what you think)
Warnings: Violence, Guns, Swearing, Sexual references - Sexual innuendos (SMUT - NO SERIOUSLY. IT'S FILTH * Mutual masturbation, choking, oral sex - female receiving, spanking, bit of dom/sub, daddy kink, breeding kink??? I'm sorry )
Requested? NOPE. Requests for OBX are OPEN!
*My work is not to be transferred, copied, translated or reposted to any other sites without my permission. Please see my masterlist for all other works and warnings. Thank you! xoxo
He kept his seat low as he pulled her Oldsmobile up to the edge of the property, turning off the lights so they wouldn't be seen.
"Alright. Hand me the piece in the glove box, and stay here. I'll be back in 10 minutes." Barry mumbled as he turned off the engine of the car, and twisted his body towards her.
"Baby, can't I come with you?" She asked as she unbuckled her seat belt, reached for the glove box and handed him the Glock.
"Fuck no, woman. Crazy enough I let you come along for this. Stay here and wait." Barry replied as he loaded the gun, and narrowed his eyes at her.
"Fine. Be safe." She sighed as she crossed her arms over her chest, looking him up and down.
"Count on it." Barry grinned as he leaned over the console to give her a kiss, unsatisfactory to them both, then exited the car.
She sighed as she ran her hands through her hair and rested back in the seat, checking the time, ready to count the minutes until he would be back.
It had been 12 full minutes since Barry had left, and she was restless. She got out of the Oldsmobile and wandered towards the house party. She made her way through the crowd of people in the front of the house and made her way to the back of the house where a fight had broken out.
"You owe me money, Kook. So, pay the fuck up." Barry yelled as he held one of the boys on the ground in a choke hold.
"Control your psycho boyfriend, druggie skank." A girl She didn't recognize sneered, coming up to her and giving her shoulder a shove.
"I'm not the one with a coke tab. So, maybe your boyfriend should pay mine." As She wound up to strike the girl, she turned her face when she heard her name.
"Tatum!" Barry growled as he gave a swift kick to the Kook in the stomach, then dropped him.
"Fuck!" She cried out when a fist collided with the side of her face. Before she was able to react, she felt Barry's arms around her waist pulling her away from the crowd and back to the car.
"You being an idiot. I told you stay here. Now look, got yourself hit in the fucking face." Barry growled under his breath as he carried her over his shoulder, then sat her on the hood of the car.
"I was worried about you." She sniffled as she pressed her fingertips to her sore face.
"You ain't gotta worry about me, woman. I'm good. Took that Kook's money before I saved that bitch from feeling your wrath." Barry mumbled as he inspected her pretty face, pursing his lips at the mark already forming on her cheek.
"Is it bad?" She asked as she reached for his sides to pull him between her legs.
"You gonna have a mark for sure." Barry replied with a shake of his head as he thumbed her tender skin.
"Am I still cute?" She whispered as she reached under the hem of his shirt to feel his skin, not even flinching when she felt the gun in his waistband.
"Cutest bitch in the OBX. Never had a girl take a hit for me before." Barry smiled as he laid his hands on her thighs.
"I'd do it again, too." She muttered as she pulled her fingers down his stomach.
"You won't have to. Get in the car, T." Barry mumbled as he pulled her hands out from under his shirt.
Barry drove them home in relative silence, his hand on her thigh and the other on the steering wheel. He pulled into the drive of house and killed the ignition.
"C'mon. I'll clean you up and take you to bed." Barry grunted as he opened his door and made his towards the front of the house.
He gently took her wrist and led her towards the small bathroom, propping her against the little sink before he rustled through his cabinets for something to wipe her face with.
"That hurts." She winced as he pressed a cool cloth to the broken skin of her cheek, no doubt a bruise forming.
"Sorry." He grumbled as he pulled the cloth off her face, then inspected the wound.
"Thanks for taking care of me, Barry." She whispered as she reached for his belt buckle to pull him closer.
"Yeah. Should be alright for you now. Can get you iced if you need it." Barry nodded, his hand on the side of her neck.
"I'll be okay. But I'll let you dote on me a little longer, if you want." She smiled as she pressed her forehead to his.
"Get to bed and take your clothes off." Barry replied with a kiss to her lips, then pulled his hands off of her.
She smiled and quickly walked out of the bathroom, and into the bedroom, tugging her shirt off on the way. Barry ran his fingers over his mustache, a smile on his face as he watched her backside sway for him.
Barry followed her to his bedroom, pulling his own t-shirt over his head. He walked in to see his girl on her back, naked except for her panties, her legs spread for him.
"That's the shit I wanna see." Barry growled deep in his chest as he palmed himself over his pants, his eyes zeroed in on the little wet spot on her panties.
"Come here, baby." She whispered as she reached for him.
Barry walked around the edge of the bed slowly then leaned against the wall opposite her. He ran his fingers under his chin and looked her over.
"Touch yourself first." He ordered firmly, even though he absolutely ached to touch her, and pull those wet panties off with his teeth.
"Barry." She whined as she sat up and looked at him with an exaggerated out.
"Do it. You didn't listen to me when I told you to stay in the car. Can make it up to me by putting on a little show." Barr grumbled looking her over, all alone in the bed.
She raised her eyebrows at him, then knelt up on the bed, pulling her panties to the side. She smiled as his breath visibly hitched in his chest as she reached down and ran her middle finger through her soaked folds.
"Like this, baby?" She whispered as she circled her clit, her eyes fixed on his face as she pleasured herself for him.
"Yeah. Bend over and show me?" Barry growled, his hand inside his pants giving himself a few strokes as he watched her.
She squealed as she pulled her panties down her knees then turned around, bending over to show him her backside. She reached between her legs and began to touch herself again.
"Such a pretty fucking pussy." Barry growled as he surged forward to kneel on the bed, his tongue pressed to her soaked folds.
"Barry!" She cried out, one hand gripped at the messy sheets as the other reached back to grab his hair as he tongued at her entrance.
Barry mumbled something incoherently against her soaked core as the tops of his index and middle finger pressed inside her slowly.
"Baby, please." She moaned out as she pushed back into his face.
"You want it?" Barry breathed as he slipped both fingers inside her and curled them to tap her sweet spot immediately. He slapped her ass when she rolled her hips back for more, even though he was desperate to give it to her.
"Yes, please. I'll be so good. Please, baby." She begged as she gripped at the sheets with both hands, her hips desperately trying to ride his fingers.
"Gonna listen to me when I tell you to do something?" Barry asked as he pressed a kiss to the small of her back, his thumb reaching for her clit as his fingers nudged at her g-spot.
"Yes! Yes! Whatever you say!"
"And what's my fucking name?" Barry growled as his fingers relentlessly pounded at her sweet spot.
"Daddy! You're Daddy!" She practically drooled as she tugged at his sheets, coming around his fingers.
"Fuuuuck. Turn over woman." Barry growled as he slowly slid his fingers out from inside of her, sucking them into his mouth as she flipped onto her back.
"Please." She begged as she pulled her panties off her ankle, tossed them to the floor and reached for the soldier. She pulled down the waistband of his pants, letting his aching erection spring free.
"You desperate for it tonight, huh? Barry groaned as he felt her hand wrap around him.
She bit at her bottom lip and nodded as she spread her thighs for him. Barry grunted as he dropped to his forearms above her, reaching between them to line his tip up with her entrance.
"Barry!" She gasped as he thrust inside of her, settling inside of her completely. He didn't give her any grief about not using his nickname, he knew he always took her by surprise.
"Tight. So fucking tight." Barry growled as he pulsed his hips just a little. They had sex that morning, but her walls around him felt like the first time, almost every time.
"More." She cooed her arms around his neck and her eyes hazy as she looked at him through her lashes.
"Yeah? You want it rough?" Barry breathed as he pressed his fingers around her throat.
"Make it hurt." She whispered, sinfully sweet to him, and Barry thought he might just come from that.
"Shit." He grunted with a bite of his lip and a powerful thrust forward, before he grabbed her left thigh and pulled it over his shoulder for a deeper angle.
A gasp rattled in her chest, one hand reached for his wrist around her throat while the other hand gripped the sheet. Her eyes rolled back in her head as he pounded at her g-spot, her nails deep in his skin.
"Can I cum?" She whispered as she nudged his forehead with hers, her eyes half open as his fingers flexed on her throat.
"Ask again. The right way, woman." Barry growled with a quick kiss of her pouty lips.
"Can I cum please, Daddy?" She begged as she pulled her hand from the sheets and reached for his shoulder, her nails deep in his skin.
"Yeah. Lemme feel you, woman." Barry grunted as he kept his thrusts deep and steady.
He watched her intensely as she tossed her head back as she orgasmed around him, her nails scratching over the still tender skin on his shoulders. Her walls clenching and quivering around him were too much, too good, and he couldn't help but finish inside her.
"You came inside of me." She panted with a smile as she pressed her palms to his shoulders, releasing her grip on his wrist.
"Sorry." Barry grumbled as he pulled his hand from her throat, then kissed her chin.
"No. I love it. Will you do it again next time?" She asked sweetly, her nose brushing over his as her fingertips ran down his spine.
"If you good, I'll fill you up. Yeah." Barry mumbled even though it was the sexiest thing a woman had ever said, or asked of him.
Hotties List (Still open!!):
@starkey-babie @sodasback @barrysjumpsuit @fashion-fasting
Please let me know what you think if you have a moment! Thank you xoxo
Requests for OBX ARE OPEN!
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hangovercurse · 3 years
Text
Favorites
You work at the preschool next to Casie’s middle school. One day, you catch Colson’s eyes while working, and lucky for him you happen to know his daughter.
Request: “Hi!! Let me start out by saying that you are so so so talented!! I was wondering if you’d write something about colson falling for a preschool teacher? like he just sees her one day while he’s picking up casey from the middle school and he’s all soft seeing her interact with the kids and he makes up excuses to keep coming to see you!?”
Colson X Reader
Warnings: Cursing (maybe?)
A/N: I did that thing where I write too much… again.
Word Count: 2394
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Colson tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, drumming softly to the beat of the music coming from his radio. He pulled into the school parking lot, the line already a million cars long it seemed. But he promised Casie he would pick her up whenever he wasn’t working so she didn’t have to take the bus. If that meant spending thirty minutes in a line of slow-moving cars, so be it.
As he was jamming, he glanced out the passenger window, finding a smaller building with a chain link fence outside, surrounding a child’s playground. The door happened to swing open while he was looking, and from there time seemed to move in slow motion.
Out of the door came a dozen or so toddlers, waddling their way outside, surrounding the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. The sun bounced off of your skin perfectly, making everything around you seem so much brighter.
Your skirt flowed with the slight breeze, making the scene more picturesque. He watched as you reached down, picking up one of the toddlers and holding him in your arms. The small boy seemed to be crying, over what Colson couldn’t tell.
You seemed to be speaking to the boy, bouncing him up and down in your arms to comfort him. Meanwhile, a little girl with pigtails made her way over to you. You spoke to her brightly, reaching the arm that wasn’t holding the boy to hold her hand.
Colson’s eyes followed you as you let her drag you over to the playground. You supported her as she climbed the small rock-climbing wall and reach the landing for the slide. You then smiled as she made her way down the slide, telling her good job when she made it to the bottom.
You then turned your attention back to the boy in your arms, making silly faces at him until he laughed.
All it took was those few moments for Colson to get hooked. If there was one thing he found attractive above all else, it was women who loved children. He refused to date anyone who wasn’t supportive of his relationship with Casie, so you were already ahead of everyone on his list. It also helped that you were breathtakingly beautiful.
Colson just got good vibes from you. From his brief observation of you, he could tell you were compassionate and kind, but also childlike and fun, much like himself.
The blonde man was pulled from his thoughts as the car in front of him started moving, signaling the line was moving.
 The next day, Colson had a plan. Instead of driving into the school parking lot, he pulled into the pre-school. He checked himself out in the mirror, praying he would see you working. He stepped out of the car, putting on his best confused dad face, and walked into the building.
And by some miracle, you happened to be speaking with the woman at the front desk.
You were even prettier up close, eyes meeting his and stopping him dead in his tracks. You smiled kindly, voice ringing out, “can I help you, sir.”
He returned your smile, “I was looking for the middle school but I have a feeling I ended up in the wrong place.”
You giggled slightly, “just a little. The middle school is just next door.” You pointed to your right. “Are you picking up a sibling?” You asked.
Truthfully, the man had caught your eye the moment he stepped into the door. It was rare you saw someone your own age, and he was exponentially more attractive than most men. What would it hurt if you got to know him a little bit?
“My daughter, actually.” He spoke, fiddling with the key in his hand. You tilted your head, his face seeming vaguely familiar.
You hesitated before speaking, “who’s your daughter? I substitute over there sometimes and you look vaguely familiar.”
He bit his lip, hoping he hadn’t blown his cover. “Casie Baker.” But surely, he’d have remembered you if he’d met you.
Your eyes widened at the name, “Casie? She’s my absolute favorite!” You grinned at the man, realizing immediately that their similar features made him feel familiar. “She’s awesome.”
Colson smiled, letting out a nervous chuckle, “thank you. Yeah, she’s great.”
“She tells me about you. Whenever I sub in her classes, she talks about how cool you are.”
Colson blushed lightly, rubbing his neck. “I’m Colson.” He reached out an arm to shake your hand, mentally kicking himself as soon as he did it.
You found it endearing, shaking his hand “Y/N.”
 A few days passed and Colson still couldn’t get over how soft your hands were, or how your touch sent electricity running through his body.
He felt ridiculous, leaving rehearsals and recording sessions to pick Casie up with the hope that he gets a glimpse of you.
After a few days of nothing, he almost loses that hope. Until he happens to arrive at the school a little bit early, windows rolled down to let the cool air in. He hears the sudden sound of children laughing, pulling his attention to the playground next door.
And there you are, in all your beautiful glory. Guiding the kids out, helping them into swings and onto the stairs.
Colson must’ve pleased some God because you looked over your shoulder and found him. Of all the cars in the line, you found his, eyes locking immediately. You smiled softly, reaching a hand over to him and waving. He waved back, trying to keep his cool. But really, he was freaking out.
He thought about saying something, or mouthing something, rather, as you were too far away to hear him, but he was stopped by the beautiful brown hair of his favorite girl in the world. Casie plopped herself down on the seat next to him, her backpack falling to the floor with a frown on her face.
She looked up to her dad, about to complain about her day when she saw his preoccupation. She followed his eyes, finding you in the playground. Immediately her mood was lifted, and she turned back to her dad with a grin on her face.
“Daaad?” She questioned, her voice lifting at the end of her question. The blond man looked down to her a soft smile in his face.
“Hey Case, how was school?”
“You think she’s pretty, right?” Casie ignored his question.
Colson scoffed, rolling his eyes, and shifting his car into gear. “She’s… pretty. I guess.” He mumbled, pressing lightly on the gas.
Casie continued smiling up at him, “that’s Ms. Y/N. She’s the coolest.”
“Put your seatbelt on.” He said, pulling out of the parking lot. “And I know, I met her the other day.”
Casie’s eyes lit up at the thought of her two favorite adults meeting. “Really? How? Did you like her?”
Colson chuckled at his daughter, “I went into the pre-school parking lot by accident and she showed me how to get here.” He blushed, knowing Casie would easily spot his lie.
And that she did, “I’ve been going here for almost two years, how did you accidentally go into the wrong parking lot? You pick me up all the time.”
Colson coughed nervously, “so, how was school?” He tried to change the subject.
Casie gasped, “did you go to the preschool just to see her? You like her!”
“I just met her Casie.”
“You like Ms. Y/N!” she sang, dancing in her seat.
“How was school, loser?” He asked, laughing at her.
She ignored him, again. “Does she know you’re my dad? Did she say anything about me?”
He rolled his eyes, chuckling to himself at her excitement. “Yes, she does, and yes, she did.”
“What did she say?” Casie practically yelled.
“She said you were the worst student she’s ever substituted for.” He smirked, flinching lightly as Casie slapped his arm.
“She did not say that!” The girl pouted, “Ms. Y/N is my favorite teacher in the whole world.”
He couldn’t help but smile at her affection for you. “She’s not even technically your teacher. But she did say that you were her favorite student.”
Her eyes twinkled, “really?”
Colson nodded, “she also told me that you talk about me in class.” He looked at the girl, raising an eyebrow, “any reason why?”
Casie sunk into her seat, a guilty expression on her face. “No.” Colson looked back to the road, but his eyebrow was still raised, “Okay, fine. I just think it’d be really cool if my favorite dad and my favorite teacher were… friends.”
Colson laughed, “I am your only dad, first of all, and second… don’t be weird.”
“But you said you liked her!” Casie pointed out, making the man’s ears turn red.
“I said she was pretty, that’s not the same thing.”
Casie sang again, “whatever you say.”
He rolled his eyes again, letting out a sigh and dropping the conversation, knowing he would lose. “Are you gonna tell me how school was or not?”
Casie sighed, hitting her back against the seat, “Mr. Clemmons was being mean today again. He said he’s not gonna curve our test even though only 2 people got an A on it.” She crossed her arms and huffed.
Colson pouted, bringing a hand to rub her shoulder, “what’d you get on it?”
She mumbled out, “a B.”
His eyes went wide, “dude, what? That’s awesome, that’s above average. You should be proud of that!” He always tried to encourage Casie, knowing the insane amount of pressure people put on their kids nowadays and not wanting her to feel that.
Casie shrugged, “yeah but my guidance counselor says if I want to get into a magnet program in high school, I have to get all A’s. And I have to get in a magnet program high school to get into a good college.”
His eyes went wide as he pulled into his driveway, “woah, woah, woah. You’re 11 years old! You don’t need to worry about that stuff and whoever is telling you that is wrong. Getting a B or even a C isn’t gonna stop you from getting into whatever program you want, I promise.”
Casie sighed, opening the door, and sliding out. “I don’t wanna talk about this anymore. Can we go back to talking about how you like Ms. Y/N?” She asked, her shoulders slumped.
Colson rolled his eyes, climbing out of the car and following her inside. “I don’t like Ms. Y/N.” He groaned.
“Whatever, but next time she substitutes my class, I’m texting you and you’re gonna bring me lunch and talk to her.” Casie said, going to her room and throwing her backpack onto her bed.
 A week and a half later, Colson was sitting in his car in the school parking lot, staring at himself through his rearview mirror. He looked at the bag of chick-fil-a in the passenger side seat and sighed. His phone buzzed, a text from Casie coming through.
Lunch is starting, where are you???
He chuckled and texted back.
Going to the office now, calm down
He grabbed the bags and drinks, opening his door and stepping out. He made his way through the office, getting his visitor’s badge, and moving towards the cafeteria. He opened the door, searching through the sea of children for his daughter, only to find your eyes instead.
You smiled brightly, head tilting as if to ask why he’s here. He returned the smile, holding up the bags to answer your question. Casie appeared next to you, waving her hand. Colson made his way through the pre-teens, trying not to crush any of them.
Casie and you giggled at his struggle, joking with each other. Eventually he reached you two, setting the food on the table that Casie had reserved just for you three. The girl took her place across from him, motioning you to sit down next to him. You laughed but followed her directions.
Colson took the food out of the bag, passing Casie her sandwich and fries and pulling his food out of the bag. He turned to you, a smile on his face. “Woah, they must’ve given me an extra sandwich.” He held it out for you to take.
You obliged, giggling lightly. “How strange.” You commented, your smile never leaving.
“Oh, right. Ms. Y/N, this is my dad, Colson. Dad, this is Ms. Y/N, the best substitute ever.” Casie said, pointing between the two.
Colson chuckled, “yes, Casie. We’ve met.” He looked over to you, hiding his laugh behind his sandwich.
“Yep. Someone got lost and found me at the preschool.” You said, your voice exaggerating. Shit, Colson thought, you were onto him. “Speaking of, Casie. I know you’ve been talking about needing volunteer hours. If you want you can come by after school some days and help me with the aftercare program? I can take you home afterwards if your dad can’t pick you up.”
Casie smiled brightly, nodding her head. “Yes! Yes, yes, yes!”
Colson watched the interaction, fondness in his eyes. If he wasn’t sure before, he was now. He was falling hard.
You turned to him, kindness in your eyes, “if it’s okay with your dad.” You said and he nodded.
“Yeah, if you don’t mind having her around. I’m cool with it.” He tried to hide the blush on his cheeks as you continued to look at him, taking in his features.
Casie squealed, “thank you!”
You simply smiled and shrugged, “it’s not a big deal. I get some extra help and I get to spend some more time with my favorite 11-year-old. Maybe her dad can even stop by and help sometime.”
You turned to the man next to you, who was sure he’d turned very red. He was never this nervous around women, but something about you made him incredibly self-conscious, like he had to impress you.
He mumbled out a quick “huh?” before registering your question. “Uh, yeah, sure. If you want me to come help. I’d be cool with that.” He turned to meet your eyes.
You giggled, holding the eye contact, “I do want you to. I’d like it a lot if you did.”
Casie looked between you two, suddenly regretting what she’d done, “are you two done? I’m trying to eat my sandwich.”
414 notes · View notes
ragingbookdragon · 3 years
Text
A Shot In The Dark
Batfamily x Reader One-Shot
Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: Explicit Language, Mature Themes
Author's Note: I'm going to start the flow of Ghost-Maker fanfiction onto this site, watch me. Enjoy! -Thorne
**********************************************************************
The butler cleared his throat. “Master Bruce, Ghost Maker is here.” A grunt signaled his response. “I shall take my leave.”
“I forgot you still had the butler hanging around.”
Bruce didn’t look over from the screen as the vigilante stepped into his peripheral. “Are you here about Kolkata?”
“Spice has been entering the U.S. through the black market.” He looked over. “It’s in Gotham.”
“I know. I tracked a shipment in on one of Penguin’s cargo ships.” Bruce shot him a grin that practically bled, ‘I just one-upped you’. “The same one you tagged after me.” He knew Ghost-Maker wasn’t going to take the bait, easy as it was, but still, the way the man’s jaw set told Bruce just how ticked it made him.
“The only way to stop it from getting in is to head over and stop it.”
Bruce shook his head, tapping at the screen. “Interpol can shut down the operations in India. I just want it stopped in Gotham.”
Ghost-Maker sighed. “Why do you always have to take the easy way out of things? What’s stopping you from going?”
“Tim’s got a presentation at Wayne Enterprises tomorrow, Cass has a dance recital, and Damian has a debate team championship.” He glanced at him. “I promised I wouldn’t miss them.”
“You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?” he asked and the other nodded.
“Like clockwork.” He pointed to a drawer. “Hand me the instrument from the bottom drawer.
Ghost-Maker bent over and pulled open the drawer; a small carved flute rested inside, and he picked it up, examining the instrument. It was made of carved onyx, slashes of tiger-eye and jade up the sides; holes were drilled into it in a fashion telling him it would produce music if he blew into the piece at the top.
He handed it over. “Why do you have a flute in your drawer? And why do you need it?”
Bruce didn’t respond, merely bringing the instrument to his lips; he blew softly, an almost mournful sounding tone. Setting the piece down, he waited, and to Ghost-Maker’s surprise—which didn’t happen often—a cloud of black smoke began to swirl beside them. Faster and faster, it spun until it suddenly dispersed and in its wake was a woman—a rather bare woman…in a rather exposed position, her arms stretched out above her head, and one of her legs up in the air like it had been resting on someone’s shoulder and the other leg like it had been around their hip.
She let her legs fall, almost gracefully, and she heaved an incredibly annoyed sigh. “One of these days, Bruce Wayne, I will refuse your summons.”
“Well, it wasn’t today,” he quipped, spinning in his chair to look at her. “Were you in the middle of something?” his tone denoted that he knew she was, he was just being a sarcastic ass about it.
“I was.” She griped, then let her head loll back on the floor. “In the middle of silky sheets with all those fine bedfellows and now here I am on a cold, hard cave floor with no one to drive me into sexual-oblivion.” She stuck one perfectly nailed hand in the air. “Ahem.”
Bruce rose from his seat and took her hand, pulling her up and into his arms. “However, can I make it up to you, (Y/N)?”
Cocking an elegant eyebrow, she murmured, “You do not have enough resources to make up the good time you just pulled me out of.” Pushing out of his arms, she bypassed Ghost-Maker like he wasn’t standing there stunned out of his mind about what just happened.
“Is my wine still down here?” she asked, already bending down to rummage through the drawer. “Hmm, I see I answered my own question,” (Y/N) remarked, pulling out a bottle of wine so old, vintage didn’t seem to describe it. Popping the top, she took a sip and snapped her fingers, a silky black robe instantly clothing her naked body.
Leaning on the desk, she crossed one of her smooth legs over the other, idly swishing her foot. “So, why do you need me?”
Bruce nodded at the screen. “Do you know about the spice shipments in Gotham?”
(Y/N) hummed. “The shipments of spice that Penguin’s buying from black market deals that are originating out of Kolkata? Those spice shipments?” she shrugged. “I might know something. Why?”
“We’re trying to stop Penguin from getting it into Gotham.” Ghost-Maker interrupted before Bruce could say anything and she gazed at him.
“And you are?”
“Ghost-Maker.”
“Hmm.” She said, though she sounded disinterested. “Come here.”
“Why?” he questioned, though he obeyed and before he could even react, she reached up and touched his jaw. In a flash he saw every memory of his life in his mind, and she pulled away, tone curious.
“Oh? So, you are the one Bruce thinks about. The hedonistic anti-hero that copes with his psychopathy by challenging himself to fix the world.” A smirk tugged her lips. “Interesting.” Her eyes found Bruce’s. “Why is your ex-boyfriend in Gotham? I thought you did not want him anywhere near here? From both of your memories, you are both antagonistic to the idea of working in each other’s locations.”
“You just read my memories?” Ghost-Maker inquired, reaching up to touch his face. “How?”
“Telepathy, amongst many other dark things that would make even a person like you quake in fear.” (Y/N) glanced at Bruce again. “Answer the question.”
“He’s not my ex-boyfriend.”
“Wrong question and even more wrong answer.” She shot him a knowing look, one he matched with a firm look of his own and she waved a hand. “Fine, I will relent for now. What do you need to know about Penguin’s shipments?”
Bruce hit another button on the computer and a picture of a manila file came up. “It’s locked in his personal office surrounded by turrets and armed thugs.”
(Y/N)’s lips pulled pathetically, and she whimpered pitifully, “Aw, can the two of you not get into the office with your powers combined? So sad.” She raised a hand and touched the tips of her pointer and thumb to one another, then she lifted it to her mouth. She blew a single, sharp ear-splitting whistle and both Bruce and Ghost-Maker heard ringing in their ears as a dark smoke began to pool from the edge of the cave, the type that sent shivers up someone’s spine.
A low growl sounded from the smoke and out of the vapor stepped a dark hound, black as midnight, with glowing red eyes and rows of razor-sharp teeth. (Y/N) clicked her tongue and it bounded to her. She reached down and caressed its head, speaking in a language that neither Bruce nor Ghost-Maker understood.
She stood back up and pointed to the screen, uttering one more word, cold and firm. “Hunt.”
The hound barked but it still sounded like a growl, and it turned, sprinting towards the wall; it collided with it in a hail of smoke, and (Y/N) looked at Bruce. “Cù-sìth will get what we require.”
“I haven’t seen your hell-hound in a long while, (Y/N).” Bruce noted and she scowled.
“Death hounds. Cù-sìth and Garmr are death hounds.”
“And where is Garmr now?”
She frowned, looking away from him. “He is…recovering from a sustained injury.”
“Can I do anything to help?”
(Y/N) sighed and shook her head. “I appreciate your sympathy and trying but injuries that death hounds receive can only be healed by darker magic.” Her fingers swirled with her sorcery.
“Is that why you’ve been in hiding for a few months now?”
“Yes,” she nodded. “I have devoted most of my time to healing his injuries.”
Bruce took her hand, gently but firmly. “(Y/N), is there anything you need from me?”
She met his gaze, holding it for a moment before sighing again. “Do you think you could find nightshade and belladonna extract for me?”
“Absolutely,” he nodded, then he nudged her in the ribs with a grin. “You’re not planning on poisoning anyone, are you?”
(Y/N) chuckled. “Maybe just a bit. You know, not enough to kill them but just enough to drop them out of a city government meeting where an especially important vote is being decided.” She winked. “Care to wonder who it is?”
Bruce grunted, pulling from her. “I already know who it is.” He took a seat at the computer, and she leaned against the desk, her thigh brushing the arm rest. “You’re not allowed to poison people.”
She let out a humored breath through her nose and reached out, gently carding her fingers through his short dark hair. “Joy-killer.” (Y/N) took a moment to gaze at him, then she shifted, tracing the dark circles under his eyes. “When is the last time you rested?”
“A few hours ago.”
Frowning, she corrected, “I meant when was the last time you actually had a restful sleep?” he opened his mouth, but she was quicker. “You are not getting younger, Bruce.”
“I’m fine.” He grunted and she rolled her eyes.
“You are so stubborn.” (Y/N) glanced at Ghost-Maker. “Do you get decent sleep?”
“Of course,” he retorted. “Only Bruce thinks sleep is for the weak.”
“It is.”
(Y/N) looked back at Bruce. “That’s because you are a stubborn ass.”
Before he could respond, a growling caught their attention and they all turned to the entrance of the cave, seeing Cù-sìth coming towards them, the manila folder in his teeth. She plucked it from his mouth and flipped it open, scanning the contents; when Bruce reached for it, she jerked it away and clicked her tongue.
“Oh no. Only those who have maintained a correct sleep schedule are allowed to read this.”
Bruce glared at her. “Give me the file.”
“No.”
He started rising from his seat. “Give. Me. The. File. (Y/N).”
“I think you are forgetting that I am not one of your little minions, Bruce.” (Y/N) snapped her fingers and he sunk back into his seat, compelled by her magic. “You do not tell me what to do. Ever.” She looked at Ghost-Maker. “Come with me to the docks and we will take care of this.” Then she met Bruce’s gaze again. “When I snap my fingers again you will go up to your room and sleep for a few hours.”
“(Y/N),” he warned. “No killing.”
“I will do as I wish,” she offered nonchalantly, handing Ghost-Maker the file. “You know I have never adhered to your rules.”
Bruce’s glare darkened. “I know.”
“You know as well as I that you get rude when you are tired. Sleep now. Let us take care of this.” (Y/N) held out her hand. “K, take my hand.”
“How do you—”
She ignored the vigilante’s shocked question, taking his hand and the world twisted and turned around them until the smoke cleared and they were outside the gates of the dock. “You will want to take your mask off.”
“I’m not taking my mask off,” he retorted, and she shrugged.
“Then you will be sick in your mask.”
He stared at her, then he spun around, undoing the clasps of his mask, barely getting it off his face before he was vomiting into the grass.
(Y/N) merely watched. “I told you. Magical teleportation always wreaks havoc on the stomach the first time.”
“What—what are you?” he asked, then went back to puking.
When he went down on one knee, she leaned over and steadied him. “Older than what your mind can comprehend.” (Y/N) reached down and placed a hand on his forehead, then he stopped retching and coughed a few times. “There. Your digestive system should relax now.”
He didn’t necessarily shove her away, but it was obvious he didn’t want her seeing him because he pulled from her touch and wiped his mouth, quickly pulling his mask back on. “Don’t ever do that again.” He warned and she snorted.
“What? Heal you or teleport you right to the location of your target?”
With his mask back on he glared at her, light blue slits glowing brightly. “Call me K.”
She couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you and Bruce are so much alike.” (Y/N) hauled him to his feet by his sword scabbards and let him go, starting towards the opening of the gate. “This will be a rather enjoyable night.”
“You need adequate protection.” He said. “You’re going to get killed without anything on.”
(Y/N) tossed a smirk over her shoulder. “My, my, Ghost, are you worried about me?”
“I don’t feel empathy,” Ghost-Maker said, hurrying to walk beside her.
“That is not completely true. At least through the memories I have seen.” (Y/N) looked over at him. “You are empathetic to Bruce. It is not like my empathy to him, but on some level, you do care.” She smiled. “Nothing is completely void of some form of empathy.”
She looked over at the dock, scrutinizing the cargo ship. “There are armed guards along the pier. A frontal assault will get us caught…no airstrikes…” she hummed, then brought a hand to her chest. “I have an idea.
“Care to share?” he asked, looking over at her, and to his surprise, she transformed before his eyes, taking on the shape of one of the thugs on the ship. “Huh. That’s impressive.”
“Thank you.” She said, though her voice was much deeper, like a mans and she stood up. “I will infiltrate the ship from the front. I trust you can go through the back?”
He pulled out his swords and (Y/N) swore she could practically see the smile growing on his lips as he said, “Absolutely.”
“Then be swift.”
***
A few hours later they appeared in the cave, and she sighed, gazing at the man collapsed at the desk. “I forgot how easily he deflected magic. Even mine.” Shrugging, she left the file beside him, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple. “At least he is sleeping though.”
Pulling away, she looked at Ghost-Maker. “You did well this evening. Your training is almost superior to Bruce’s.”
“It is superior to Bruce’s.” he griped and she tsked at him.
“Well, from what I have seen in your memories, I am afraid you have not much proven superiority to him. Equality, yes, but not superiority.” (Y/N) hummed and smiled at him. “I hope you and I can do missions together again, Ghost. It was rather enjoyable to have a talking partner. Bruce does not like to talk unless he has to.”
As she started walking towards the stairs, he followed her. “Can I ask you something?”
“You may.”
“Where do you live?”
(Y/N) eyed him. “Why do you wish to know?”
“Your meditation techniques appear similar to mine.” He smiled at her. “I was thinking you and I could meditate sometime.”
She paused and looked him over, a hand on her hip. “You want to sleep with me? Really?”
“You already told me what I am. A hedonistic crime-fighter.”
“Technically I said antihero, but I digress.” (Y/N) stepped up to him, staring into the glowing blue slits. “But I saw your abilities…they could be…intriguing.”
“I can show you now, if you’d like?” Ghost-Maker tipped his head to the entrance of the study. “There’s enough rooms for us to disappear into.”
(Y/N) chuckled and shook her head, walking ahead of him. “Bruce would not be happy about that.” She reached the top step and turned back, grinning at him. “But worry not, Ghost. When I am ready to see you, I will find you.”
“I look forward to it.”
173 notes · View notes
sereisstuff · 3 years
Text
ɪɴꜱᴛᴀɴᴛᴀɴᴇᴏᴜꜱ ᴄᴜʀꜱᴇꜱ
noun
plural noun: curses
1.
a solemn utterance intended to invoke a supernatural power to inflict harm or punishment on someone or something.
Tale of the story: Jungkook; a demigod. Fell in love with a mortal, in most stories the mortals die. What makes you think this one is any different.
Plus size reader (Not implied, but I only write for plus size readers so any, and every story on my page that I’ve written is implied, plus-size reader)
Warnings: self-inflicted harm (not intentionally) mentions of blood. Swearing? very rushed. Little dialogue at times. Angst! Fantasy.
Inspiration was when I was staring out the car window like four hours ago, so do what you will with that information. Song's I recommend is a runaway from aurora and the seed.
Not proofread
Tumblr media
Your hair bustled in the wind, mimicking the waves before them. A deafening shriek, melodiously flowing through the air as the heavy roars of Poseidon fell before you. Oh, how you wished this day could end, it was all due to your imaginative stupidity which led you to your untimely decisions. Your curiosity piqued a much greater meaning as you stumbled upon something you shouldn’t have, something so tender that not even your callous human hands could grasp.
It was a warm day when you stumbled upon Jungkook bathing under the waterfall, by far the most exquisite figure you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It was odd, he was handsome, so handsome your mind couldn’t comprehend his features. So defined in the most perfect places but even his flaws held beauty. Something you wouldn't ever say to yourself, you were so busy lost in his exotic features that as you examined him, your once starstruck eyes turned into shocked ones.
His feet replaced by fins connecting his toes, strong legs glistening under the water almost gloss like. If you hadn't gasped aloud, you wouldn’t have caught the creature's focus. His charismatic eyes faded into anguish and he held his breath as if you would slowly forget him, which you wish he implied on you at this moment.
Jungkook was a rather charismatic being, so full of life. He told you many things, the beings he encountered, his descendancy and you were absolutely enchanted by it all. Jungkook went from being the eye that captured you to the person you needed the most. So much had happened that the dangers you encountered soon became normalised. He wasn’t a god nor was he human, he was a demigod.
And you can recall the very moment he told you…..
“You know, I’ve known you for a while now. Yet, you still can’t give me a direct answer as to what you are? Who you are? You know so much about me but I know nothing about you” you asked, it was very true. You often got lost in your rambles that by the time he watched you walk into the night back to your residency, you no longer had time to ask him who he truly was, it was almost like you forgot. Every. Single. Time.
Jungkook stared at his reflection beneath him, toes curling just before the water and he wondered. Was it truly something he wanted you to know, did he no longer honour his people's secrecy, it was as if the water would always be a part of him and just like the tides. He was pulled from his desire to feel ‘normal’, that the other part of him wanted nothing more than to run from the ocean.
“I don’t know what I am either” he spoke, voice tough in correspondence “I’m many things, to many beings. I’m a prince to countless, an heir to others. A beast of life to some, but to you and your people, I am a demigod. A halfling cursed with humanity, I’m telling you this because as we’ve ventured, I’ve given you my trust and you’ve done nothing to betray it” Jungkook's voice was soft, as always. His curious gaze lifted from beneath his fallen hairs, strayed from their roots and moved like silk from his eyes as the wind touched his bristles.
Your bottom lip curled between your teeth in thought, it wasn’t hard to believe because at this point in time. This was the least likely to be the most unbelievable.
“If you're a demigod as you say, and your source correlates with the water. Does this mean your father is….poseidon?” came your question, your needy eyes now meet by his doe ones. His brows furrowed in response as if it was hard for him to communicate.
With his intense gaze, he nodded, ever so slowly. It was a painful nod, one stricken in fear. Jungkooks charisma faded into his clouded mind and you led him astray from his defences. He didn’t enjoy this, his shared vulnerability felt unnatural, it wasn’t the way he was taught. His humanity was often correlated with Beastiality by his people and the emotions that flooded his mind felt so distant to him. It wasn’t like he feared his people, he just feared their intentions with those who they didn’t deem worthy of knowing of them.
“Then why do you seem so human-like, is this my perception of you? Am I meant to know of your existence because if that’s not the answer, must I fear for my life” you asked slowly, making sure every word you spoke made it through to him, your tendency for empathetic traits seemed to come into play and by the looks of it? It seemed sickening to him.
The sun was led astray by the clouds and your moment was soon to end, the lake he visited you was by the ocean. Covered in a deep forest with a subtle pathway of dirt to lead you back home.
Jungkook let a giggle escape his mouth towards your idiocy “You don’t need to fear for your life as long as I’m here. My mother presented herself as a human during the time she met my father, a woman with such beauty had grasped his attention. It’s hard to say why I’m like this because she herself wasn’t a human. My father says it’s because the moment they collided was what I was imaged after but these days I don’t believe much from his mouth” a slight husk to his tone deepened at the mention of his father.
“As long as you're here aye? What are you, my protector? My guardian? Jungkook my saviour” you cooed falling helplessly on his hooded chest to lighten up his dampened mood. The information was enough to suffice your curiosity, just enough to vanquish your questions and you didn’t want to risk his sadness for your rambling mind.
Jungkook lifted a ringed finger, resting it on your head in a comforting motion. Surprising you. You sat awkwardly, legs laid upon each other as you laid on his thighs unintentionally “Protector has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?” He asked, his childish tone was back once more letting the serious resonance fade into the abyss of his mind once more.
“More like Jungkook the fish, when have you once protected me, it’s always me protecting you. Like that time a kid tried throwing water at you and I pushed you out of the way” You continued, feeling the heat of your cheeks fire in adornment, he never held you this intimately. Only a peck to those plush cheeks of yours and a hug, usually you were doing the hugging...
“You didn’t need to, I’m not a mermaid. A tale isn’t going to spontaneously pop out of my ass, you just made us both look like idiots” He laughed, sending you into hysterics “Let me have my saviour moment dammit, in my mind that was quite heroic of me don’t you think” you tried lifting yourself from his thigh but his grasp was too strong, that not even your head moved from his stoned hands.
“Not at all, heroism can’t even be the definition of what you did. Maybe embarrassment? Or, even better. Dumbass?” you shot up from his hand, defying his strength. Planting your hands to his side so your face was merely away from his face “I am not a dumbass, I did what I thought was right at the time, I should have let the water hit you, very very ungrateful if I may say so myself” you didn’t really notice the proximity at first, to fired in your own mind to notice Jungkook's doe eyes widen at the mere feel of your breath heating his cheeks.
Your ramble continued as he gulped, heated in nervousness. His eyes turning a pale blue, covering his chocolate brown eyes with a slight desire but mostly fear of his actions.
“Ah, y/n” he tried but you continued over him “-remember that time your fingers started doing that sticking together thing like a fin and I took my gloves off, mid-winter to cover yours which by the way. You never gave back, I don’t care because you can keep them but living under the water and all, I feel like I should have given them my final wishes at least”
Jungkook coughed, staring into your eyes, placing a soft hand onto your hips in hopes of it grasping your attention “By the way, were you trying to make a mako mermaid reference and I’m only just getting it now because that would make me feel like a dumbass, which I’m not. I’m not implying that you are either because you're smart but you're also a dick” Your words were switching so fast that he panicked and planted a kiss onto your soft plump lips.
Oh, how warm they felt, your eyes widened in shock. Feeling his soft lips move rhythmically against your own, unable to comprehend his movements as you stared at his thick lashes coating his lids, finally sinking into his tender touch.
Jungkooks fairly large hands are planted on your wide hips, his touch so tender in fear of hurting you. Even his kisses lingered on your lips as he struggled to move from their enchantment.
From that moment onwards you both lingered on the thought of it, treating the other more softly. Graciously, he treated you like a porcelain doll in fear of losing you. He always kept one hand clasped to your own, for what he called his mystical rope.
But moments like that also end in tragedy because even if you found love. Your demise soon followed you to your meeting place, in hopes of seeing him by the dock you awaited. Staring dreamily at the moon above you, your eyes playing with the stars surrounding it and your heart warmed at the tranquillity falling before you, everything seemed to be so full of majesty.
You were so lost in a daze that you didn’t notice the feet pandering behind you, a hooded figure stood before you, lips uncovered but eyes hidden in disguise. This moment wouldn’t have scared you, unmatched to yours and Jungkook's odd adventures, still, the knife they had in their hand glistened under the moonlight and that made your heart race scarcely.
“Y/n?” they asked, voice full of femininity.
You nodded, eyes in search of their own. “Lighten up, I’m not here to hurt you” they laughed, removing their hood painfully slowly, revealing a young woman. Mid-fifties with healthy skin and strands falling down her face with the colour of lightning streaks befalling them, her doe eyes and thin brows reminded you of something but as you gazed into her eyes, you felt the fear vanquish.
“Who are you?” you asked, it seemed as if you’d been doing that often nowadays.
The hooded woman sat beside you, her large, golden streaked blanket resting on her slender shoulders fell like a pool surrounding her due to its thickness. It seemed warm on the inside. “I am no one.” she gave, wisely making you roll your eyes “no one? Everybody's someone” you replied, disliking the ungiving answer she so happily gifted you.
Her slender jaw spread as she released a mocking laugh “Darling, some want to be perceived as someone. I am the embodiment of no one, by now I know your shock is an action of acting. I know of your adventures, I know of your discovery. So take me as I am because I may come back in a different form next time around; the concept of matter is how you mould it, when you are matter, you are anything.”
“You are no one” you repeated in hushed whispers, to which she hummed in reply “-yes, I come as a heathing warning for you my dear” her long black hair swished like magic around her but she was so unfathomed by it, by everything. You couldn’t even feel her energy, her being was untraceable, it was almost like she was a concept of unperception “a warning? First, you stand before me with a knife, then you lecture me on matter and now I’m receiving a warning for something I may not have even don-”
“No, not of what you have done. What you’ve meddled in, as you may know. The prince you're waiting for” she was cut off by you immediately “How did you kn-”
“I’m speaking” she demanded, she flicked her slender fingers in the with fast-paced movements, the advancement made your posture straighten and your mouth shut, ziplocked “I heath a fate made warning; A prince will someday meet his demise, secrecy is leaked and unfathomable death may plague all lands unless the loved are sacrificed. Unlike many, whom may not understand that. I come to you in the form he was conceived in, despite never appearing before him. I have come to you, I have deciphered the riddle for your understanding. Jungkook has always been the son of the cursed. Unless you sacrifice yourself for him”
“I know your love for him is prudent and rooted in for all of eternity so I ask you this? Is your love so strong that you're willing to lay down your life and wait for him in the next? Or are you so obsessed with what he is that your love is a manifestation of your unlived fantasies' ' she spoke with such anger, your breathing elevated as the moon disappeared within the clouds and her eyes turned a bright blue with black surroundings. Her hair floated in the air and she once more reversed her curse she placed on you, watching you fall to the floor, coughing from the unused air within your lungs.
“What’s it to you? Yo-you were never there for him. He grew motherless, your sudden support seems awfully unwilling” you screamed, her power raised the winds and the tides grew with it. “You know nothing of magick my dear, scream all you want but what’s set in stone cannot be changed by faith. I protect him from the shadows and nurture him from afar. He doesn’t need me, he’s a prince, a son of a god. He can handle himself.”
She stood, using her power to light up the sky around you in an array of lighting. Strong her movements were, the tips of her fingers swirled as a barricade of wind surrounded you both, blocking the outside world off, the anger rising around you couldn’t be heard from your standing point and your fear suddenly grew. Was what she said true? Were you merely going to be a sacrifice in fate?
“Do you love my son?” she asked, this time. Her hands placed on your cheeks, warming them and disclosing your fear. You didn’t hesitate, nodding your head almost immediately, causing her saddened doe eyes to close, squeezed shut in thought. Her cries kept from her throat and she apologised “I’m so sorry for this.” She whispered. Suddenly, her hands lit and your mind eradicated into an unfathomable pain, but just as it arrived. It also left and instantaneously you felt trapped.
You watched from within your eyes, as she gifted you her golden knife. Placing her soft forehead against your own, whispering sweet nothings until she backed away and looked atop into the sky before slowly disappearing into the air like ash.
“No, no, no” you repeated watching as you unleash a cut on your skin.
It was a quick, swift moment. The knife pierced at your skin and sliced your innocence, it was damn near painful but your mind was so overrun with memories that the pain you inflicted upon yourself felt no less painful than the crack in your heart. It was a damned ending from the beginning but just like most, happy beginnings end horribly because it’s too good to be near true.
You were mortified by what was to come but just like the pain of birth, the pain of new beginnings and the entrance to humanity. Death could mimic its transition and your boat was rocking. But you didn’t regret any of it, you knew the moment he told you of what was to come that this was your sacrifice, your tears watering the board creaking beneath you as the raging waves swindled the currents beneath you, at this point. It no longer felt like you were endangered by anything, your trapped consciousness merged into one and you walked to the edge of the dock.
Rivers of blood trickled down your arms and you cried from within, just a moment ago you awaited your love’s arrival but now you’ve become his only path of living. It was all unfair.
But just like that, your will vanished and you fell. The drop wasn’t too far but you did, your hair sunken into the water, the tides pulling you further beneath its weight and you felt weightless. It felt serene, the suffocation of your lungs was unkempt but then again, you couldn’t feel anything. Not even the siren screamed before you as Jungkook saw your floating body and silken blood dragging from your arms like leashes. The gash inside of your belly was doing its unholy work.
He had you in his arms, strongly wrapped behind your head and your waist as he stared at you, eyes stricken in fear and pain, shooting from the wanted with you in his arms, landing on any near-surface. Using his arms as a shield from your pain, he couldn’t understand the sudden change in environment but he knew of whom when he saw your floating body.
All he saw was red.
The rain began to fall from the sky, masking his hefty tears from his eyes. He couldn’t see your breathing so he reached a hand above your mouth, whispering incantations as his tips felt the water pile, lifting from your purple lips and a cough escaping your mouth.
“Come on, y/n. You can’t do this to me, not now” He cried sullenly, “please” he pleaded, resting a head on your cheek, the once tender warmth released with thin streaks of breathing and ice-cold skin, his cries mimicked the thunder as he rested his hand against your stomach praying to the ocean for strength, he no longer cared about himself because in a world without you, there wasn’t a world of hope. Of adventure, of love. He couldn’t bear the thought and if you left, he would too.
He screamed a growl like one as his hands lit in blue, heavy harshed breaths escape his mouth and his heart patterned. He didn’t care for the wind prickling at his raised hairs, the lightning striking before him because if he could save you, he couldn’t save himself.
“Please, breath baby. Please.” he sobbed.
The wounds barely healed as he leant an air against your chest, unable to hear your lively heart. Breaking him further “Why, why her out of all people. Why not me, out of all people you took the one person willing to love me” He wailed into the sky, falling against your corpse body. His tears falling against your salty face.
“Just five more minutes would have felt like an eternity more if you gave me the chance.”
He curled up beside you in the rain, ignoring the storm happening around him. His arm wrapped around your flat body as he sunk into your neck with loud sobs. His smile broke from him and the strings to his heart no longer played its serene melodies as he saw you, riddled with death.
It was churning, moments ago you awaited his love. His oddly cold warmth he provided and now you laid in the eye of all rage. Your thoughts are alive once more, but faintly. Just like the faint beat of your heart that caught the attention of your lover. His weakened hands pushed his body up and laid an ear against your heart, the strum of your strings beating once more gifted him something more, life couldn’t leave your body just yet.
His tears stuck to your face and the magic within them, secured into your veins and simultaneously he watched your wounds turn into sigils of protection, scarred into your body. Your breathing returned as Jungkook hovered above you, his fin-like hands placed beside your messy strands as he tucked the swindled roots behind your pierced ears, awaiting for your eyes to open once more.
“Am I just that important” you whispered barely, the movement of your lips made him laugh in joy. His breathing heightened as his chest pumped in and out.
He gripped your cheeks making you hiss in pain “shit, sorry” he muttered, still eccentric in glee. Just like the sea, you wanted to continue living so you fought fate. The comfort of your lovers' hands against your stricken features was extremely comforting and just like that, the heavy rain turned into hushed whisps.
“I promise to never leave your side again, never” he promised as he straddled your head within his strong arms.
“Fine by me” you coughed, voice still weakened by the taste of death.
Jungkook laughed, staring into the sky with hatred. One day he would get his revenge but for now, his focus was solely on you, and only you “I should have known better, I’m so sorry” he apologised frantically, you placed a hand on his naked arm, shocked that all this time he wasn’t clothed “It’s okay, Jungkook. It’s not your fault”
“You're wondering if I’m cold, goddamit y/n. You were dying and you're worried about me”
You shoved his head weakly “leave me alone, it’s hard not to worry about someone you love”
Jungkook pecked your cheek, tiredly “I love you too”
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Text
Touch it for Real, Part 5
Genre: Humor / Fluff / Eventual Smut
Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / mention of feet
Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader
Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6
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Baekhyun was trembling. His hands were actually shaking so much each time he tried to type into the keyboard of his phone he hit the wrong letters and the typos rendered his message impossible for even the autocorrect to guess what he was trying to say.
“Just — ugh — just give me a regular keyboard for fuck’s sake,” he was grumbling to himself, “my hands wont stop shaking. I can’t. I can’t do this.”
He tossed the phone with force away from him and it landed face down on the carpet across the living room.
“No. I refuse,” he was staring over at the phone on the floor with a shell shocked aura about him, “just forget it. I’ve changed my mind. I can’t. I won’t!”
You’d given him a homework assignment an hour ago.
Ask a girl out on a date.
He’d been sitting on this sofa with his phone in his hands, writing, deleting, rewriting and deleting, again and again, into the text message conversation he had going with Mia.
It had been going pretty well with Mia actually. You’d been handing him the reins more and more and you both celebrated together with a single glass of wine the night he’d had his first actual phone conversation with her. Baekhyun was a lightweight and usually refused to drink more than a few sips of alcohol but he’d gone for the chilled bottle in the fridge and poured it into two glasses and handed one of them to you and lifted his own into the air. He did not wait for you to acknowledge his toast though. He just downed the contents of his glass with a wince on his face in a single go, slammed the empty glass down onto the counter roughly and stormed out of the kitchen toward his bedroom. You sipped your glass and counted it as a shared celebration.
His phone call lasted for 3 minutes and 32 seconds and he managed to tell one awkward joke that elicited audible laughter from the girl. You knew because you sat on the couch beside him with your ear pulled up as close to the phone as you could manage, trying to hear everything that happened. You’d let him know you were here to intervene if something went wrong but honestly you were sure he would do well on his own. And honestly, he was about to do well on his own, despite how awkward and very nervous his voice was.
They had gotten past the introductions at least twice when he briefly forgot what came after “hello” and simply said it a second time. She at least said it twice too and the awkward pause that came after that went on for too long when you held up the index card in your hand and pointed with your finger to the question you had written down.
“Uhh...so h-how...umm...how are — I mean, what are you up to?”
You couldn't make out her response, but whatever she said pulled an interested hum from the back of his throat and he made a quick witted remark that had her giggling in response.
You could definitely make out the sounds of her laughter and you could instantly see the change on his face when it happened. You saw the brightness form inside his eyes and he turned to look at you with a surprised expression as he lifted a finger to point at the phone he held in his hand.
His eyes were wide with something in between amazement and panic and he mouthed the words ‘she’s laughing’ at you and you nodded enthusiastically in response.
Unfortunately a few seconds after the joke he accidentally dropped the phone and it took a wild bounce, landing somewhere under the couch. He couldn’t find it for two whole minutes and when he finally found it, he made up some excuse about having to go because he smelled something burning.
He stared at the phone until the screen turned black and he didn’t move when you rubbed a soothing hand over his back.
“That went pretty good,” you offered. Baekhyun grunted and turned toward the kitchen for the celebratory toast.
Since that night, (you know the one) you’d intentionally taken on a more supportive teacher role in this project. You vowed to keep yourself involved as much as he needed and you swore you could keep your own selfishness from impeding his progress. The way you had been acting had been unfair and he was too good to you for him to deserve anything less than your very best.
You had made a promise to Baekhyun and then you made a promise to yourself to follow through on that promise. You would move Heaven and Earth to help him reach his goal because he deserved it and seeing him happy would be enough to get you through anything that came your way.
You were fine.
No really, you were completely fine.
He was moaning.
You sat on the couch beside him with your foot propped up on the coffee table as you carefully applied the second coat of polish to your toenails. You’d become quite the expert at applying polish to your nails during bumpy situations. Sitting next to the man who flailed and squirmed beside you on this sofa was commonplace and simply no big deal.
You could probably do this during an earthquake.
His moaning turned into much louder moaning and he threw himself back onto the arm of the couch dramatically and in protest of the unfairness of your assignment.
“Buuuug,” he whined through his nose, drawing it out like a little kid.
You’d just finished your pinky toe when his foot pushed up against your thigh.
Your aim was quick and you reached over and grabbed his foot by the heel as you pivoted in place.
“Be still,” you said calmly and you held his foot in place as you applied the bright red polish to his big toenail. You often did his toes to match your own because it made his toes look adorable and he wore socks everywhere he went anyway so he didn’t mind what you did to amuse yourself.
You moved quickly, dabbing carefully over each of his nails until they were all painted to match yours. You blew air over them to dry them, being thankful you’d invested in the 60 second polish.
“Buuu-hu-hu-hu-uuug,” he moaned harder, wiggling his hips into the fit he was throwing and closing his eyes to sell you on the absolute anguish he was in. “Bug, I just don't think I can do it. Can we do something else? I don't even know what to do on a date. What if she says no? Oh god, what if she says yes, I’m going to puke. Do you want to see me puke? Because I am going to puke.”
You tapped a hand lightly over the top of his finished foot and pointed to the other one and after a few moments he shifted, giving in to what you asked for right away.
But good lord, he was dramatic. The whining and the moaning intensified just when you thought you couldn't stand another volume increase he raised his voice into a shout and put actual words to his protests. Your ears were already ringing and you could feel your substantial patience — really, you were on a level with a Buddhist monk after two years living with this — beginning to shake.
“I mean, if I asked you to teach me how to swim would you chuck me into the ocean on the first day?”
You forced your focus down on his other foot, getting the polish smooth and perfect with each stroke. He had gone quiet after his question to you and you bit down on your lip as you carefully pondered the words he was saying. The last thing you wanted was to make him so uncomfortable he was unable to go about his daily life. You didn't need this project to become a source of heartache for the man.
You were not an unreasonable person. Perhaps this really had been too big of a step for him to take without having even practiced under the careful instruction of a teacher.
He’d waited in silence for you to answer for only a few seconds and when you didn’t; because you were thinking about it, dammit, he threw his whole head back and his mouth opened up and he wailed into the ceiling above his head at an even more annoying volume than you thought was possible. This was new and shocking. It was deafening. Surely the neighbors would think someone was being butchered in here.
The awful sounds were coming straight from his diaphragm. The man had power in those pipes and he was going to destroy your ear drums in order to get his way. It went on and on, changing from a moaning, groaning large-dog-with-a-bellyache sound into what you imagined it might sound like inside of an echo chamber trapped with a big sad whale, the biggest ones they made, who also happened to be on fire. He was giving you everything he had now. This was full volume and it was horrible.
“Alright!” You shouted over the wretched screaming, “Alright fine! For the love of God, Baekhyun!” You said for emphasis and the incredible relief of silence flooded and cleansed your ear drums that still vibrated from the after effects of all of that noise.
He lifted his head and closed up his mouth instantly and his eyes were wide as he cautiously watched and waited for what you would say next.
“Do you want me to teach you? Do you think you can practice with me so you learn how to do it before you have to do it for real, on your own? That’s what you mean right? You want more instruction before I throw your ass into the ocean?”
His lips were situated down into a fierce pout now and he nodded his head twice; a big ol’ up and down.
You were irked now. No amount of pathetic pouting on that face could pull you back from the edge. Even the slow careful nod of his head was just an obvious attempt at winning you over with cuteness. Well, it wouldn't work. If anyone was capable of annoying someone to death, it was this man right here and he came very close just now.
“New assignment,” you said with your finger raised and he pulled his bottom lip in between his teeth and pushed his top lip forward as he inflated his cheeks into round balloons. He sat up straighter and he waited for you to speak.
“Since I am a woman,” you began with your finger still raised and waving in his direction. His eyes glanced down at it, “you may ask me out on a date, for practice. And if I say yes, we will then—”
Your pointed finger was joined by your whole hand as you opened it up and you waved it through the air twice, a visual representation of cause and effect of such a situation. His eyeballs followed every movement you made, looking at the hand that moved instead of at you, the actual speaker.
His eyes popped up into yours when he registered the words you were saying; the requirements of his new assignment.
“...we will then — well, we will..”
Your words were sticking. He was listening very closely and he’d released the air trapped in his mouth and his lips now hung open as his eyes occasionally followed the waving of your hand in front of his face. It was silly how shifty his focus was when your hand moved in front of him.
“We...will…” he said and his face moved, mirroring the movements of your hand as he tried best to understand the new task you were trying so hard to assign to him, even repeating your words to help you get the next ones out.
“We will go on a date. A real one. A practice date. You will have to take me on a date, Baekhyun. You’ll just have to .. do your best at it.”
“A date? I’ll have to,” he said with a flinching, squinting blink of his eyes, “...do my best?”
“Yes, of course,” you said as you pointed your finger at him again, pulling a swift but deep gasp into your lungs to fight the dizziness you could feel building inside your head, “It’s an assignment. Like school. I will give you a grade on how well you do. If you fail, then it’s over and I’m a terrible teacher and clearly your problems are beyond my area of expertise.”
His polish was dry. This conversation needed to be over because you were weirdly agitated by the wide eyed, deer in the headlights expression stuck on his face.
“I’ll send you some study materials later. You better take this seriously, Byun Baekhyun. This is a real assignment from your real dating teacher.”
The entire situation made you anxious. The desire to flee was very strong. You needed a getaway and you needed it now. You felt a tremble inside that could only be attributed to just how freaked out he had been acting. It was rubbing off on you.
You wanted to make a quick escape but you were now fighting with the many bottles of nail polish scattered across the coffee table; you’d gone through so many of them as you decided on which color to use — they really were just numerous and just everywhere. You grasped at them, trying to grab huge handfuls at one time but your hands couldn't hold as many as you wanted and each attempt sent a bottle or two clattering noisily to the table below. It was really ruining the dramatically cool exit you were trying for.
After quite a bit of noise you felt the warmth of Baekhyun’s arm as he leaned against you and began to help you pick up the bottles; carefully placing each in it’s designated spot in your huge nail polish organizer.
It took a bit of effort for you to turn to look at him and when his fingertips carefully placed the final bottle in the case you clicked the lid closed and finally managed to face him.
His eyes were flighty. His face was flushed and when he met your eyes the smile on his lips was very tense. It looked like a grimace.
You had to be insane to be doing this. Willingly putting yourself into a situation like this with him, a situation that was for instructional purposes only, but a situation nonetheless. Your heart was racing inside of your chest and you briefly wondered if he could hear it with him sitting so close to you.
You swallowed it away, the nerves or the uncertainty or whatever it was that had taken hold of your hands and made them unstable and you turned to look into his face head on.
“Do you understand the assignment?”
Baekhyun filled his lungs with air and straightened his shoulders, pulling them back as his eyes closed up. You recognized the self calming behavior. When he turned to look at you he held a new determination in his eyes and he nodded his head and furrowed his eyebrows.
“I was always a good student,” he said, “I will do my best with this assignment. I’ll take it seriously, so I can learn from you well.”
You reached forward and patted the back of his hand lightly and offered a reassuring smile.
“Don't be too nervous, okay? Remember it’s for class so you should learn from it. Mistakes are natural and they help us grow. And you won’t have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable. I mean it.”
He swallowed and his lips flattened out into a thin line across his face. His head bobbed up and down and he hummed out a response that told you that yes, he did know what was expected of him for the sake of the lesson; for the sake of his future as an adult man who was entering the dating pool in search of the companionship of some lucky lady.
“Also remember, it’s just me. No pressure. Okay, Peanut? I’m here to help you. You could spill an entire cup of iced tea down my dress at dinner and I would still forgive you.”
“No pressure,” he repeated under his breath and when you were finally satisfied that he really understood, you stood, hefting your manicure supplies up with both hands and you stepped away from the living room to return them to your bathroom.
“Do I have a deadline?” He called after you and you turned back with your hand on the doorknob to your room, quietly amused by the seriousness you saw on his face. At the same time, proud of what a good student he was. He was a smart boy, he would do well in anything he was determined to do.
“Ask me out by tomorrow or else Ben might beat you to it.”
You figured a little sense of competition couldn't hurt. And yes, you were still actually speaking regularly with Ben. You were pleasantly surprised with how smart and how funny he turned out to be and he turned out to be a pretty good distraction for the evenings when you’d normally be bored and hanging around in Baekhyun’s room while he played some game on his PC and he’s toss you a remote for the screen that hung up on the wall above his head. You’d play music videos, or cooking videos from YouTube, or some drama or variety shows and he’d play his games and lean far back in his chair watching the screen when exciting things happened on screen.
A few times lately though, when you went into his room you’d find him watching some anime and you just knew he’d want to pay close attention so he could discuss it later with Mia. You’d much rather find someone to entertain you alone so you didn’t have to be ignored or shushed when you interrupted his anime with some stupid question about it, like who is that guy with the crazy eyes and why is he trying to kill everybody. Ben’s conversations were good enough to keep you occupied at least a little bit.
Back in your bedroom you got to work searching for materials for Baekhyun to study. Mostly using helpful YouTube videos with titles such as “how to ask a girl out”, “what to talk about on a first date” and a super helpful online book you found called The Gentleman’s Guide: How to be the Perfect Date. It was just a little outdated with the styles but the book was extensive and ran the gamut from hygiene to manners to confidence and conversation; it even had an entire section called The Art of Subtle Seduction and it made you just a little embarrassed to think of Baekhyun reading this part. He was an adult. He could handle this much. The Dos and Don'ts of a First Date section alone was worth the price you paid for the book.
You wrote up an email with your course materials and sent it off to the man.
Then you sat and waited alone in your bedroom until your level of boredom that in any other situation would be unremarkable, when combined with the built up anticipation inside of you, mixed into a perfect storm of swirling lunacy that was bouncing around inside of you; trying to break free and wreak havoc on something other than your chest walls.
You grabbed your cell phone, slipped by the 2 waiting text messages from Ben that you would absolutely get to later, and opened a new text message to Baekhyun.
‘peanut did you get my email ^^?’
You were sure he did. Of course he did. You wondered if there was anything he found lacking in the pages and pages of super helpful information you sent him. You wondered what he thought about it all and maybe if he needed some guidance or suggestions on how to proceed with the first step of his assignment. Did he need you to come over to his bedroom and watch the videos with him? Would that be too awkward?
Your phone vibrated.
‘yep’
He would ask for help if he needed it, you were certain. He would be fine. This wasn’t real anyway. It wasn’t like there was an actual deadline, not really. You enjoyed talking with Ben but it didn’t seem like he was close to asking you out yet. He had been a bit busy lately and you had been busy as well with work and with helping Baekhyun.
You’d seen from the notification preview on your phone that Ben’s last two messages were asking you something that would take a while to explain and you didn’t want to open them yet in case he’d been expecting you to reply quickly. You needed a bit more time to come up with an answer for the questions he had casually asked about your roommate. You’d tell Ben that Baekhyun was, yes, a guy. And no, it wasn’t awkward living with a man.
You’d get to all that later. Now, you were entirely too keyed up about a problem of your very own creation.
When.
But really...
When?
You could not relax. Because honestly it could happen at any moment. He could come barging into your room, plop his ass down unceremoniously on your bed and say “Hey Doll, hows about you and me go on a hot date this weekend, what about it? Nyeeahhh?” Like some sort of 1940s gangster. You could definitely see Baekhyun doing this accent. You were pretty sure he had a 40s gangster hat in his closet.
You’d decided that you wouldn't give him a hard time about how he asked you. You’d accept right away for the sake of his nerves, if he worked up the courage to ask you at all, then he was on the right track and he deserved an E for effort.
You still had trouble with the anticipation. Not knowing when was the hardest part to handle. You tried your very best to go about your day in as normal a way possible. Sure, you jumped every time you heard a sound, but other than that, it felt like any other day.
He spent the rest of the evening in his room and didn't even come out until you heard the doorbell ring. You peaked your head out of your bedroom door and waited for him to answer it but after a few minutes with no sight of him you stepped out. The doorbell rang a second time and you rushed from your room to answer it before the visitor gave up.
It could have been something important. This building had a doorman so it was usually someone who had a purpose ringing the bell.
The view through the camera monitor showed a run of the mill pizza delivery man, and you remembered that it was Baekhyun’s turn to make dinner tonight. He must have ordered you a pizza so he could hide in his room all night and not have to worry about walking around you in the kitchen and not asking you out on a date.
This was his way of avoiding you for the night.
You had to swallow down the flash of silly disappointment that popped up. You’d assumed correctly that he had already paid for the pizza and you received your cardboard box of loneliness with a polite smile for the weirdly cheerful delivery kid.
You gave a quick glance at the label in the front of the box to check for forbidden toppings just in case he’d forgotten who he was avoiding tonight and put something weird on it like corn and mayo or hot peppers.  
The label had four lines of ingredients listed, the first said ‘xtra cheese’ and each additional one after that said ‘xtra cheese.’ Nothing else, just ‘xtra cheese’ listed four times in succession.
What in the world?
You briefly considered a malfunction of the pizza shop’s label maker, but boy was this thing heavy. Did he sneeze while selecting toppings and accidentally hit the option four times?
You set the monster down on the counter and lifted the lid. It was steaming hot despite the trip in the car and up the elevators to your door and as soon as you opened it you noticed the odd appearance of the inside lid.
There was a message handwritten with black marker inside of the lid.
Your stomach leapt up into your throat as you recognized what this was. The message started with the word Bug.
You had to cover your mouth to get through this.
Bug,
I know this is really, really, really, really cheesy, but will you go out on a date with me this Saturday?
Knock thrice on my door for yes.
-Peanut
P.S. Did I beat Ben?
You had to hang your head to contain it. You wanted to scream. Giggles actually burst out of your mouth before you could stop them. You were highly amused. Actually reallly fucking impressed and goddammit you felt a genuine flutter of butterflies inside of your stomach. How was he this clever? He had always been very silly and good at thinking of the most ridiculous scenarios to get things done, but wow. When you lifted the lid once more to read his message again your mind spun with the logistics of that man in that bedroom sneakily ordering this thing from a real pizza shop that was probably a block from your home.
Did he call them and explain the situation? Did all of the employees gather around, chanting ‘More cheese! Give the man more cheese!’ As they loaded this pizza up with what looked to be a full inch of melted cheese on top? It compromised the edges of the crust and flowed over the cardboard below. It was absolutely ridiculous and nearly inedible too.
Did they giggle at the pet names you called each other as they selected the employee with the best handwriting to relay his message?
You were buzzing again. This time it was pride. He was brilliant at everything he put his mind to and this was clearly no exception. He would do so well in his life.
You left the kitchen and made your way toward his closed bedroom door. As you came close you heard a very soft thud; wooden door hitting wooden door frame. The movement was hardly noticeable but you could see a slow turn of the doorknob too. He probably thought he was sneaky.
You lifted your closed fist and quietly hit three times against his door and after exactly ten seconds you heard the squeak of his doorknob turning and his bedroom door opened up an inch.
You saw a single brown eyeball peeping at you through the opening.
“I’ll text you the details later,” he whispered and the door closed up again before you could respond.
The details came by text message a day later, just as he promised. It was a Thursday afternoon when your phone buzzed and you’d just put the final touches on your data entry work for the day, running it through a spell checker for mistakes as you always did. You’d expected to hear from Ben by now, he said he had something to go straighten out at the bank. He’d taken it well, finding out that your roommate was a man around your age, and he didn’t even ask too many prodding questions about him.
The message was from Baekhyun with the time he would ‘arrive’ to pick you up on Saturday and he gave you sparse details about what he actually had planned; just a quick note at the end that he would be wearing a suit. You figured this was a hint for you to dress up as well.
Was Baekhyun taking you some place fancy? Your curiosity was positively burning and Baekhyun had been acting super weird around you lately.
Whenever you’d come into a room he was already occupying he would make up some excuse why he had to leave it and vanish inside his room to carry on with his highly secretive behavior. Whenever you went into his room he would spin in his chair toward the door with what you were positive was a caught red handed look on his face. It was like you had just caught him watching porn, only you’d caught glimpses of his screen before he quickly hit a keyboard command to clear out the screen and you didn't see a single boob.
After the first time, you’d made it a point to barge into his room often, just to see the surprised look on his face; you did it all for that gasp of air, the frantic fingers of panic on the keyboard, and the trembling hand over his chest as he clutched his pearls. All you caught flashes of were just regular looking websites. Regular text and regular pictures. You saw some blues, you saw some greens. You definitely didn't see the incriminating black and yellow theme of everyone’s favorite adult website. There was nary a penetrative moan to be heard through his speakers. The entire thing brought you great joy. The man was acting so odd and honestly he was getting your hopes up for a fantastically mind blowing date on Saturday. You’d already picked out your dress, heels, and jewelry and had been having a very hard time tolerating the ever so tedious passage of time.
By the time Saturday rolled around you were a wreck of nerves; though you weren’t exactly sure why you were so anxious. It was probably his recent fretting and obsessive preparations that had rubbed off on you. You’d decided to take it easier on him today. He’d obviously been working very hard on this assignment once given the dangling carrot of a good grade to be awarded at the end and if there was one thing you knew about Baekhyun, it was how much he strived to achieve perfection in his academic performance. You’d provided the materials. He’d obviously been studying and go-time was quickly approaching.
You took your time getting ready, soaking in your bathtub to kill some of the dull waiting hours before he was due to pick you up. By the time you were scrubbed, rinsed, shaved, moisturized, plucked, preened, coiffed, and scented to your satisfaction, you had only a half an hour to slip up the straps on the fancy fitted cocktail dress and check your reflection in the full length mirror. It was fitted and had a deep plunging neckline. It accentuated the best parts of your figure and the high slit that landed over your upper thigh showed just enough skin to make you feel sexy.
With your heels you were ready to go; feeling about as pretty as you had in a long while. The silliest little fantasy swam through your head as you spun in front of the mirror and it brought just a little warmth to your cheeks as you allowed it to play out. The idea that he would find you so lovely, so irresistible, that even the iron willed man with his self control like a steel trap would lose himself in the slow blinks of your lashes and drown in the pools of your eyes for just one night.
When you lightly slapped a palm over your cheek, it was to ground yourself. This was fake. Everything that happened tonight would be the result of careful calculations and applications of behaviors modeled in text books that he had studied all week long. It was a date with Baekhyun, but it wouldn't really be an accurate representation of the Baekhyun that you know so well.
You knew he would follow a script. He would perform as a perfect gentleman and you would play along, knowing that when he brought you home you would get a gentle hug and a thanks for sharing your knowledge with him and you would close your bedroom door and he would return to his bedroom door and life as you know it would simply fall back into place as it should remain unchanged for however long it took for you to get back on your feet, perhaps get a place of your own not too far away from him; although this neighborhood was very expensive, you’d settle for one or two subways stops away if it meant you could visit your best friend often and see him living out the life he deserved with someone who was worthy of his love.
Tonight, you will enjoy. But you would not allow your emotions to betray your rational mind. You would enjoy it and then it would be over and Baekhyun would have the skill set to ask out Mia, or whoever else he set his mind on asking out.
Your quiet self assurance was interrupted by two soft knocks on your bedroom door and your hands were trembling as you grabbed your handbag that had your cell phone, a tube of lipstick for touch-ups and a few just in case items you were always taught to carry with you, you know, just in case.
You’d reached the door and swung it open with a beaming smile on your face.
Your date was here. Baekhyun was here. It was Peanut.
A smile that quickly transformed into what you were sure was a gaping opening in your face resembling some aquatic animal and you found yourself gazing upon, frankly, an expertly styled exquisitely handsome real life man, who was wearing Byun Baekhyun’s face and smile.
Despite seeing him standing before you with your own two eyes, your brain was having trouble reconciling the two; your harmless roommate and the man who stood before you wearing a crisp suit jacket that he filled out shockingly well, a fashionable collarless dress shirt that looked like it came from some fancy boutique from downtown, fitted dress slacks that you tried your best not to linger on for too long, and were his shoes Italian? You were pretty sure they were Italian. More than just the clothes, his hair was different. He’d gone and had something done to his hair! Lord, you saw slight waves and a deliberate styling by an expert hand with just a bit of his forehead visible. Oh he looked so lovely with this hair style.
You remembered to close your mouth, but only after the realization dawning on you that he hadn’t said anything to you as you silently admired how beautiful he looked standing in his fancy suit looking like at least a million bucks.
You knew...you knew he was an attractive man. You’d have plenty of glimpses of it again and again, freshly reminded of it during that photo shoot late that night. You’d even known he worked out and had had plenty of chances to ogle the muscles on his arms and chest when he just woke up and would wander out shirtless for a drink of water. You knew that the entire shape of this man was the kind of handsome that you had to make conscious decisions to ignore. You’d forced yourself to look away plenty of times in the past. Still, the Baekhyun who stood here today, the one who had his lips parted as he stared into your eyes now after what you were certain was a head to toe, slow as hell, full body appreciation of all of your preparations to get ready for tonight, this Baekhyun was, for lack of a better word, he was sexy as all hell.
For the first time since you began this project; these lessons in dating, you felt like you might actually be in some sort of trouble.
Baekhyun spoke at last and it was the softest whisper. He said your name. Not Bug, not stupid or dummy or stinky which he called you sometimes even though you knew, you fucking knew you always smelled amazing. You went out of your way to smell great. The sound of your name on his voice softened the shock in your face and you felt a smile pull at your lips.
And so you smiled at him and watched the slow but complete smile that manifested on his pretty face.  
“Hi,” he said with a blink of his bright eyes.
“Hi Baek,” you said. Your heart was racing.
He pivoted on his (Italian!) shoes and extended a bent elbow toward you and you slipped a hand around his arm.
He was doing so well. Each step you took through your shared home felt new. You had a hard time keeping from watching the side of his face and each glance you made was greeted with the light touch of his eyes as he met your eyes with his own.
Moments blurred. He ticked all the boxes, of course. He opened your door, closed it quietly behind you once you were inside. Even helped you with the seatbelt, much to the dismay of your racing heartbeat when he reached over to pull the red strap across you, careful to keep his hands well away from touching any of your actual body as he did it. The true devastation hit you when, all closed up inside the dark car in the silent moments before he started the engine and the intoxicating smell of him reached your nose.
This was a new smell. Baekhyun had gone to the salon, gone shopping for expensive new clothes, and was also wearing what had to be the best smelling cologne you had ever experienced in person.
“You smell really good,” you said without looking at him and your fingers fidgeted with the strap of your handbag to keep your mind working.
“So do you,” he said followed by an inhale that you were certain sounded just a little thready and he was steering the car through lanes and turns of a parking garage to exit the building.
His destination was the kind of fancy dream-like restaurant that you saw only in movies. The sun would be setting soon and you were led to a rooftop terrace with a view over the city and a single table set for two. You followed the pleasantly clean woman and lingering just behind you, Baekhyun silently fell behind one or two steps. A glance behind woke him up from whatever daze he’d fallen into and he closed the distance with two larger steps and a shy smile on his lips.
The waitstaff worked like ninjas. Glasses were refilled as if by magic and course after course of delicious food appeared before you as you watched the sunset over the horizon and when the light faded enough, the soft glow of twinkle lights illuminated the view around you.
The dinner was delicious and the scenery was breathtaking and that alone would have given him full marks for such a lovely evening out, but Byun Baekhyun was proving to be an overachiever as he started to talk to you. He was asking you open-ended questions, pulling conversation easily from you and you found yourself giggling and laughing as he joked in response or told you some funny anecdotes from his childhood that he knew you would love.
By the time dessert arrived you were pretty certain you were drunk despite half of the wine that remained back in your glass. Baekhyun, ever the stickler for vehicle safety had stuck to soft drinks and when he excused himself for the restrooms, you waited patiently under the glowing lights as you daydreamed about the genuine brightness you were certain you saw in his smiles. Had the twinkle in his eyes been just a reflection of this place? Everything about him tonight felt so real. You’d read through the same book he read through and you couldn’t recall him using a single recycled phrase or conversation point during dinner.
Maybe he was just that good of a student.
A noise startled you from behind and you jumped when a single red rose was laid on the table in front of you.
A rose. Baekhyun had brought you back a rose from somewhere; maybe he stole it from the elaborate flower arrangements you passed on the way in.
“Where did you get this?” You mused as you smelled his sweet offering and he shrugged and tugged at the top button of his shirt, undoing it and slipping slim fingers down to undo the second button as well. Your eyes watched the action and weirdly the fragrance from the rose smelled sweeter than the first time you smelled it.
“I just had it,” he said cryptically with another charming and blinding smile.  
“Ready to go? We have one more place to visit.”
The next place he took you was even more magical than the fancy restaurant. The parking lot was nearly empty and when he opened your door he was fussing around with a small bag in the backseat of his car.  He pulled out a pair of black ballet flats and you watched in awe as the man actually kneeled down on the pavement in front of you to carefully slip your heels off of your feet and slip on the comfortable shoes.  
While they did not look anywhere near as sexy as the heels did, you instantly understood the need for a change.
Baekhyun had brought you to an aquarium with what looked like miles and miles of indoor and outdoor paths to walk through with tunnels traveling through the biggest tanks of aquatic sea life you’d ever seen.
You were instantly hypnotized by the deep sea exhibits that seemed to take you for miles and miles below the surface of the ocean where the sea life grew weirder and the lighting grew darker and dimmer the further down you traveled. Here at depths difficult to wrap your brain around the fish and sea creatures have adapted to freezing waters and a bleak existence without any light at all. Many had their own light sources. The bioluminescent exhibits sparkled and twinkled like the stars in the sky out in the country. You saw entire universes all around you.
Baekhyun was as enraptured as you were and spent his time carefully reading each exhibit’s information card out loud as he stared with his mouth open in awe at the different creatures. There were hundreds of different species of fishes, beautiful ones and downright creepy ugly things from the very bottom of the oceans; endangered species too; the sleepy eyes of the sea turtles were your favorites and the impressions Baekhyun made of their swimming faces made you cackle with laughter. Bright lights illuminated meters of corals of all shapes, sizes, and colors, and you honestly felt like you’d entered another planet when you both walked into the jellyfish halls.
They glowed and flowed, bounced and danced, and moved like a dream. You found yourself hypnotized as you stared at the biggest tank full of them for long enough for Baekhyun to make three circles around waiting for you to follow him out of this room so he could go see the sharks.  
You knew the sharks were coming. You’d had a look at the map. And while you didn't necessarily dislike them, their huge sizes and razor sharp teeth always gave you the heebie-jeebies. The jellies were just so comfortable to look at and so relaxing.
It took some coaxing from Baekhyun, and maybe even a little tiny push at the back of your shoulders to get your feet to move and you lingered a bit long in the dark hallway that connects the two exhibits.
You just felt that maybe, the sharks could wait just a little bit longer to meet you.
He’d noticed right away and you opened up your eyes that you’d closed up for a little relaxing session when you felt the tips of his fingers running along the palm of your hand.
He gripped lightly at first, and then shifted your hand within his and he began walking forward in that dark hallway with you trailing behind him.
Baekhyun touched you sometimes. This was something that he did, on occasion. During a scary movie when you’d jumped too many times, or when you both walked through a crowded place and he didn't want you to wander off, he would occasionally hold your hand.  This wasn’t something new to you.
However your heart was beating hard in your chest and the warmth of his hand coupled with the firmness with which he held you felt so damn nice you were having trouble focusing on anything else except for your own shallow breathing and racing heartbeat — and his hand holding yours.
Sharks swam at a gentle languid pace. Clearly at ease and very well fed here in their homes, there didn't seem to be very much murder and feasting happening at all. Hammerheads, tiger sharks, something uglier than any other creature you had ever seen that came from The Midnight Zone of the deepest parts and with each creature that swam overhead, or beside you, or creeped up from somewhere behind you, Baekhyun would turn to face you and take two or three steps backwards as he pulled you through it, your hand held securely inside of his. He would smile at you that debilitating smile, and tilt his head and call you a scary cat or a big baby and you would laugh and roll your eyes and deny that you were even a little bit scared of anything at all.
All was going well. You were very well taken care of and felt very secure inside this tiny tunnel at the bottom fo the ocean and you’d noticed this time when Baekhyun had turned around to look at you with a bright smile that smile wavered just a touch and his eyes seemed to focus on something that was coming up from behind.
Your curiosity got the better of you and you turned to see what he saw.
Baekhyun moved quickly then, moving both of his hands up to reach for your face he pulled your head forward and moved his own face close to yours. You felt the warmth of his forehead lean against yours for a moment and you could not see around or behind you with his hands placed so carefully on the sides of your head like this.
You knew what it was. It had to be something huge and terrifying, maybe even something with fresh blood still on it’s teeth. A Great White. The giant monster from the movie Jaws that you had watched with him once not realizing just how scary it would be and you spent most of the film curled up under his arm wincing at the horrors you saw on the screen.
“Hey Peanut,” you said softly while looking up close into his eyes. He was so close you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. His smell, that new smell of his smelled even better this close to his skin.
“Hey LoveBug,” he said with a gentle smile and you knew based on the use of this carefully reserved nickname for emergencies that it was exactly as you had feared. A Great White, chomping on the remains of the cutest crying baby penguin. The fluffiest one with its whole life ahead of it.
Baekhyun was safe though. Baekhyun was warm and he was here to protect you. You would be okay, you knew it.
“Is it gone yet?” You asked after what felt like the average time for a fish that size to swim away and you noticed something. It was a look, just a glance. Baekhyun’s eyes floated a bit and the warm breath you felt coming from him was delivered in quicker puffs through his parted lips.
When he licked his lips, you could not help it, your eyes caught the motion as his tongue ran over his bottom lip and left wetness behind and by the time you realized what you had done — where you had looked — you had already done it, your stubborn eyes had already looked and in your mind a vivid replay was happening. You felt too much. This was too much. This was supposed to be fake. Why did he have to smell so fucking good and why was he so aware of every tiny detail about you he knew when something would overwhelm you and ruin your mood, so he used his own body to shield you from it and protect you. You cautiously pulled your eyes back up only to find him blinking too fast and he was dropping his hands from your face as he took a step back and away from the stifling closeness.
You were dizzy. You felt it all over. Your heart was racing and the warmth you felt traveling through your body sent waves through you. You had to rub lightly over your forearms to smooth out the goosebumps and Baekhyun was no longer facing you, but was staring off into the literal depths of the cold black ocean and you took a while to recover enough to walk by him toward the exit of the aquarium and back into the darkened city streets you knew as the real world.
The walk back to the car was quiet and had an odd flavor about it. You both could feel the end coming. It had been a wonderful date. You’d spent hours, just the two of you talking and laughing and exploring literally new worlds you hadn’t before experienced. You felt a sudden but definite melancholy to see the fancy circles that made up the logo of his car.  
“Hey, you want to take a walk?” Baekhyun’s voice halted your steps and you turned back to see him standing with a hand in his pocket, fidgeting in hidden, likely with the key fob to his car, and a new sort of nervous flush on his cheeks that you hadn’t seen since he first showed up at your bedroom door looking like a dashing Prince Charming ready to sweep you off your feet.
“Sure,” you said, meaning every bit of it and secretly extremely thankful that this evening wasn’t over yet.
The walk was peaceful. It was a bit chilly tonight and you didn’t even resist when you felt the warmth of the coat jacket he placed over your shoulders. You thought you’d become used to the smell of him by now, but clearly you were incapable of ever getting used to his smell.
The streets were mostly empty now that the night had grown stale and you walked side by side passing various touristy shops that had long since closed up for the evening. Ahead you could see a small street side cafe that sold warm teas and coffees and Baekhyun was pulling out his wallet before you even had the chance to look at him with hopeful delight all over your face. He ordered two hot coffees and you danced and celebrated when he handed the first one to you.
It warmed you from the inside and you paid no mind to the smudges of lipstick all over the white lid of your cup. The hot drink made you happy and you could see your breath like a dragon in the chilly night air around you. Each puff made Baekhyun smile and when he’d taken a particularly big drink from his cup he pulled his head back and puffed out three perfectly formed rings of warm air into the color air above his head. The rings grew and then faded quickly but you were so excited to see his trick that you made him do it again and again until he was puffing and out of breath  and laughing too much for any more cool rings to form. This man was full of secrets. Absolutely full of them!
The night was winding on. You could feel the lateness in your limbs and you’d long since finished your drinks and dropped your paper cups into a street side trash can. Your feet, you found were protesting. It wasn’t that they ached or hurt or anything like that. You weren't even that tired. You were just having trouble with the idea of this ending and the night being over.
Everything had to end eventually. You didn't even pout at all when he pulled open your door. You just climbed in and sat down, fastening your own seatbelt this time with a sense of finality looming in your mind along with a wagging finger that quietly scolded you for letting your guard down during this date.
The drive back home was quiet. He didn't even turn on the radio and even though he drove with one hand, he held his other hand firm atop his thigh.
The small touches and stolen glances were over. The date was over. He had done very well. You were thoroughly swept off your feet and his grade would be an A+. You would go back to your room and go to sleep and tomorrow morning when you woke up you’d find him back to his usual antics and maybe, maybe you’d even get him to ask Mia out on a date.
You swallowed the dryness in your throat and the familiar landmarks outside your apartment building called you back home. Baekhyun pulled into the parking garage and you did not wait for him to round the hood of the car to reach your door, you simply opened it yourself and pushed through it.
Baekhyun did well. You had given him a task and he’d done it. He deserved all the praise and recognition for a job well done. He’d taken it seriously just as he said he would. This dark mood that had suddenly come over you could not show. You shouldn’t do this to him.
You cared for him too much to ruin this sweet evening.
You loved him too much. This quiet secret usually echoed around inside of your heart and you winced to hear it peaking it’s way up into your running thoughts.
The apartment was dark and you walked through it easily, knowing exactly where you could walk without bumping into anything and he didn’t turn on any lights as he walked closely behind you. He hadn’t said anything to you on the drive home, nor did he speak right now as he walked you back to your bedroom door where he had picked you up.
You turned to face him now. You pushed a smile up to your lips and his face was mostly in the darkness, barely lit with the city lights from the window.  
“Thank you for a lovely evening, Baekhyun. It was perfect. You were perfect. Seriously, you are amazing.”
You leaned before he did and you felt the staggered response from his limbs as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders for the hug.
“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” he whispered against your ear and when you pulled out of the hug, your small smile was not returned. You could see enough of his face to see that he did not smile at you now.
Your hand was on your door and you turned and stepped inside, thankful that you had left your small table lamp on. The room was warm and inviting and you closed the door behind you with a soft click that sounded exactly like clapperboard snapped to signal the end of a movie scene. You could almost hear a director somewhere yelling cut. Everybody clapped for the job well done. All the actors could now go home. It was over.
Your shoes were off. You’d pulled off the earrings and had taken off your necklace and the delicate tennis bracelet’s clasp was so tiny you had to try a few times to get it open so you could take it off.
When you reached up to slip the strap of your dress off your shoulders a tiny sound interrupted you. It was almost like a knocking, but it was so soft you had to listen carefully to hear if it repeated again.
It did not, but you could not shake that feeling that it had happened and out of genuine curiosity you walked across your bedroom and pulled your bedroom door open.
Someone was there; Baekhyun was there, standing in nearly the exact same position as he had been, wearing the same clothes. The only difference was the sight mess to his hair and the definite pink shade you saw on his face even in the dim lighting from the windows.
“Peanut?” You couldn’t imagine what this was. He was finished. The assignment was finished and he had done perfectly, you’d said so already...but, his eyes. You caught that same look that you’d seen on him many times before. It was a look of hard determination that propelled him forward when he dove into some new and difficult project he had to master. If you had to give it a name, you’d call it his passion. The passion he had inside of him to do things right. To be perfect.
“I said I would take it seriously,” he said in a well controlled voice and you shook your head, not understanding what he meant. Did he have some regrets about how the night went? Did he feel that he had somehow failed to live up to the requirements you’d set forth for him as his teacher?
“The date, I told you I would.” He wasn't clarifying anything with his words.
It was then that he moved.
His hands were up and Baekhyun took a step closer to where you stood confused and surprised at the threshold of your bedroom door. He reached for you with both hands and you felt the warmth of his palms on your cheeks at the same time as you felt the exhale from his parted lips against your mouth. It happened in a single moment. His lips connected with yours and you gasped in a surprised breath. Baekhyun kissed you. His lips were on yours and he held your face tightly between both of his hands as he did it. This was it. This was his goodnight kiss at your front door. This was the end of the date.
You could just make out the ultra up close view of him, his fluffed up hair, the smoothness of his forehead, his eyes closed up tight and dark eyelashes spread over his cheeks and it was all a big blur and so you closed your eyes and your heart raged noisily inside of your chest with the sudden need you felt for this to happen.
Your own lips parted and you felt the tilt of his head as his bottom lip pushed out slipping perfectly between your own and you could not stop it. You could not control the tightness with which your hands clung to the cotton of his dress shirt and pulled him toward you. You could not contain the way his tongue brushed lightly against your own and the way you reacted to it. The light moan that escaped from your throat and bounced around inside of his mouth. The light draw you felt on your lip as he pulled lightly and sucked on your lip as he did it. The final pull was him pulling away.
He ended the kiss with a step backward and a drop of his hands from your face.
He had kissed you and you most definitely had kissed him back. The labored breathing you struggled to contain did nothing for the dizziness.  
“Goodnight,” he said with a roughness on his voice; plus the blown out look in his eyes was telling you of many forbidden things that he was running from now. Things that even he knew were a very bad idea.
This had been fake. This was supposed to be a lesson.
You stood at your doorway and watched him disappear into his bedroom and after standing frozen in your doorway you had no choice but to return to the quiet glowing comfort of your own bedroom and close your door too.
Your hands were shaking and you felt the trembling all over you as you looked around at the place you called home. The place you loved more than anything in the world except for maybe that man who was likely facing a very similar struggle behind his own closed bedroom door.
The only difference was just how much you had to lose if you gave in.
You loved him. You knew it deep down inside of your soul. It had been buried for so long deep in the frozen depths of your ocean that you thought it would never surface and consume you, yet now you knew you’d been a fool.
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5, Part 6
Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob
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twdbegins · 3 years
Note
when you can, can you do a Simon age gap smut, where the reader keeps turning down all the boys her age that try to get with her because she likes older men, can older men do it better and cuz ya know Simon is breathtaking, please and thank you
This got lost in my inbox somehow! So sorry for the wait!
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Preferences
Simon x Fem. Reader
Warnings: Smut. Language.
Word Count: 1,651
“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?”
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Being in your early twenties is a hard time for anyone. You’re now out of your adolescence years, being thrown into the deep end of adulthood and trying to navigate your way through life. Being thrown in a zombie apocalypse doubled your struggles.
“How many times do I have to tell you no?” You snapped at the puppy eyed guy that had been following you around for the whole day.
Travis was a sweet guy. He meant well and he was always kind to you, but you simply weren’t interested. He was rather persistent that you go out with him or even at least give him a chance. He tried to keep up with your fast pace as you whisked through the hallways.
“Come on, [Y/N]. I’d just like to go out with you sometime,” He attempted to persuade you; “It doesn’t have to be a romantic thing.”
You fought the urge to roll your eyes. That’s what they all said. It always ended up being a romantic thing, and you weren’t sure how many different ways you could turn him down easily before having to get aggressive.
“Travis. I said no and I mean no.” You said, stopping your fast walk and hoping he’d catch the sharp edge in your tone.
Defeated and dejected, Travis let out a heavy sigh and hung his head. He pushed past you to go sulk for the rest of the day. You didn’t like hurting anyone’s feelings, but sometimes the men around the Sanctuary just couldn’t take a hint. You leaned against the nearest wall, rubbing your forehead stressfully.
There weren’t many younger Saviors here. There were maybe 15 or so that were actually close to your age, and you had turned down probably about 8 of them over the course of your time at the Sanctuary. You just didn’t feel attraction towards any of them. You heard heavy footsteps approaching, accompanied with a low whistle.
“Damn, sweetheart. That’s the third one this week you’ve turned down.” The familiar voice bellowed.
You looked to see Simon striding towards you, his hand motioning to Travis who he had just passed by. You groaned.
“He’s the most stubborn one yet.” You announced, feeling a slight blush as Simon took the vacant spot next to you on the wall.
Truth was, if there were any man at the Sanctuary that you wanted the attention of, it was the infamous right-hand man. Simon was a real man. He was built, strong, intelligent, charming, and devilishly handsome. You had a gut feeling that he knew his way around a woman. If only there was a way you could put your theory to the test.
“Travis is a great guy.” Simon noted.
“Yeah, and so is Alan, Ron, and Cedric,” You said, referring to the other guys you had shut down; “I’m just not interested.”
“You know, most women would be flattered at the amount of attention you get.” Simon pointed out, crossing his arms and looking over at you with his dark brown eyes.
You could smell his cologne. It was faint, but it was heavenly.
“Yeah, but is it because they’re actually interested or because I’m the only available woman around?” You questioned aloud.
You were well aware that (other than Negan’s wives, who were strictly off limits) you were pretty much the only young, spry woman around. The Sanctuary was of male majority, and most of them were incredibly sexually frustrated, especially the younger ones.
“I was that age once. Trust me, there’s other reasons.” Simon said boldly, a grin appearing on his face.
You scoffed, but hid the deepening blush on your face. He was one smooth charmer.
“Are you saying it’s because I’m attractive?” You suggested, really hoping that’s what he meant.
He shrugged.
“Maybe. I mean, if I were in their shoes, I’d try like hell to even get you to spare me a passing glance,” He admitted; “I’m not so sure you’d want to get involved with me though. I’m not exactly 25 anymore.”
You felt a spark of thrill. You had a chance. This chance was too good and too perfect to pass up.
“You might be surprised.” You flirted, trying not to sheepishly smile.
He was surprised. He turned his frame towards you as realization washed over him.
“You saying that you have a thing for older guys?” He pondered.
“Maybe.” You repeated what he had said slyly.
He smirked, a dark chuckle erupting from his chest. He leaned his arm against the wall, drawing closer to you. He was dangerously close. Your lips almost touching.
“I thought I was crazy for thinking that you’re always eye fucking me,” He chided; “I guess my old intuition is still in working order.”
You laughed, slipping just your fingertips into his waistband. This is what you were interested in.
“I wonder what else of yours is in ‘working order’.” You hinted.
He hummed lowly.
“You sure you want to go for it?” He asked for consent.
“Hell yes.” You replied immediately.
His lips crashed into yours, rough kisses that were hungry and unexpected. His hands were under your ass in seconds, hoisting you around his waist and carrying you to his room that wasn’t too far from the hallway you were in. You were making out like a mad, horny teenage couple that hadn’t seen each other for a long summer. You had never been in his room before, but you didn’t care much for looking around at his decor.
He tossed you onto the bed, earning a squeak from you when your back hit the mattress. Both of your clothes were strewn across the room, your naked bodies pressed against one another warmly. His lips were hot on your neck as he sucked harsh hickeys, the slight pain and immense pleasure were a perfect mix. Your moans and the sounds of his lips on your skin were the only sounds in the room.
“You’re already so wet.” He said, reaching and rubbing slow circles onto your clit.
You whimpered out, his fingers working magic on your sensitive sex. He slipped two of his fingers inside of you, his fingers curled and massaged your inner walls, feeling how she was coated with slickness. You had almost forgotten that this was supposed to be about him, but that didn’t stop you from rolling your hips as you began to grind into his fingers.
“Shit. Oh...” You breathed out as he pumped his fingers and curled mercilessly.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” He growled into your ear; “You don’t know how long I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this. You deserve someone who knows what they’re doing to make you feel good.” He said, bringing you close to the beginning of your climax.
But you didn’t want to finish just yet. You stilled his hand, making him withdraw his fingers. He looked you dead in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them clean. You felt prideful when he did so.
You purposefully moaned in his ear, sending him over the edge. He was between your knees, having your legs around his waist in seconds. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you firmly around him. He scanned over your naked body that was sprawled out on the bed.
Seeing you laid out underneath him, squirming with expectation was arousing and maddening. There were so many things that you did (some intentional and some not) that drove him absolutely wild. You way you bit your lower lip whenever you caught him staring at you, only using your imagination to wonder what he was thinking when he looked at you.
He pushed his shaft through your folds, relishing and groaning at the feel of you once more. Your alluring sigh signaled him to start moving, pulling out and back in at a rapid pace. Your inviting sounds were music to his ears.
You pushed your body down to meet each of his thrusts, allowing him to hit just the right spot. You could feel the pent up tension that he had built up with each rough entrance back into you. He held your hands above your head, his other hand pinning your hips to the mattress.
He pulled out again and one particular slam back into you caused you to moan louder than normal, causing Simon to speed up even more. Your chest bouncing with his every thrust. You were completely focused on the feeling of him dragging in and out of you. He let out a noise that resembled a growl that sent vibrations all through your body. Every cell in your body felt like it might combust with pleasure.
“You’re such a good girl. Taking me so well,” He said thrusting hard and pounding back into you; “I didn’t know what I’d been missing out on.”
Your face was contorted with ecstasy and pleasure. He watched how your breasts bounced every time he railed back into you, your loud sounds were music to his ears.
“You feel so fucking good. There’s no way Travis could’ve fucked me this good.” You praised, meeting his thrusts halfway.
Simon moved your leg over his shoulder and pounded into you even harder now. You almost cried out at the new angle. Your other leg tightened around him, his dick twitching deep within you.
You involuntarily clenched around him with a pitchy cry, releasing and hitting your high. He felt his own spiral, thrusting a time or two more and spilled his release into you. He groaned in solace, pulling out of you. Your hearts were pounding and your minds were racing. You looked up at him and smiled with joy as the look of euphoria in his eyes. You persuaded him to fall next to you so he didn’t totally collapse.
You grinned at him breathlessly.
“Yeah. I am definitely into older guys.”
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My dearest bouncey! I have a prompt for you if you like: Witchers as a 90s/2000s boyband 😂🤷‍♀️💖💖💖
Ellie, darling, this started as 500 words and turned into like 3.2k words and also a piece of art so... thank you so much. also shout out to my amazing art pal @mawbwehownets for the little comic!!
this contains lots of 90′s/early 2000′s nostalgia so there is also that
tw: hornyish, smooching, perilous music video situations (corny)
---
“Do I have to?” Geralt groans, letting his forehead thud down against the linoleum surface of their tour bus’s shitty dining table.
“Yes,” Vesemir says. His tone leaves no room for argument or whining. “But what if I let you pick the winner personally?”
“There have to be like fifteen thousand letters to go through! How will I manage that in less than two days?”
“There were a few more than fifteen thousand applications, Geralt. There were probably closer to five hundred thousand.”
Lambert wolf whistles and Aiden claps.
Geralt grimaces and keeps his face hidden against the table, releasing a slightly muffled: “Fuck.”
“Language,” Vesemir frowns. He tugs gently at Geralt’s loose ponytail and the singer lifts his head up from the table again, looking at his manager with beseeching eyes. “Anyway, we’ve narrowed it down to about fifty. You can go through those and choose whichever person you’d like to play your love interest. But you have to give me an answer by Friday. The shoot is in three weeks and whoever wins this stupid competition will need time to make arrangements.”
“I thought we were footing the bill for their food and their hotel room,” Geralt raised an eyebrow. “What would they need to arrange?”
“Not everyone can board their pets at the flick of a wrist, dude,” Lambert scoffs from his seat on the couch. Aiden lies draped across his lap, as usual, and the two of them are halfheartedly watching The Lion King. They can only watch movies when the bus is stationary, otherwise the VHS player might move too much while running and damage the film inside the cassette. Even taking advantage of such a rare opportunity, Lambert and Aiden still seem more interested in each other than Jonathan Taylor Thomas’s voice acting. 
“Lambert has a point,” Vesemir sighs. He scrubs his hand over his lightly whiskered face like a tired grandparent and sighs again, more heavily. “It’ll be good for you boys to have a normal person around for a few days. Maybe they’ll be able to put some things into perspective.”
Geralt can only roll his eyes a little bit and thank his manager regardless of his own feelings; he and the rest of TW5 owe the seasoned musical expert their entire careers. Without Vesemir’s help and mentorship they would never have made it past their first disastrous record deal. They certainly wouldn’t have reached the heights they’re at now, enjoying international fame and recognition. 
The begrudging frontman accepts a heavy plastic bin of file folders from Vesemir and sets them down next to his bunk. “Are these organized in any particular way?”
“Nope.”
“Cool.”
Geralt digs his hand into the pile and pulls out a piece of pale-pink stationary, eager to get started and, by extension, get finished. He can already tell that it’s going to be a long couple of days.
---
“I want this one, please, Ves.”
“Huh?” Vesemir looks up from his palm-pilot. Geralt is standing in front of him and trying to hand him something. 
“I want this guy to be in the music video with me.” Geralt holds out the letter again, fingers trapping the accompanying polaroid headshot with great care. A pair of bright blue eyes stares up from the photo, highlighting the subject’s bright smile and unruly mop of messy brown hair. Vesemir tries to hide his amusement; totally Geralt’s type, if the big oaf could admit to having one.
“Alright. I’ll get everything in order. We start shooting in two and a half weeks so get your asses to the gym, please.”
“Yes, Ves,” all five young men chorus. 
“Tomorrow,” Coen mutters a moment later than everyone else, not glancing up from his composition notebook. Vesemir nods in understanding. Coen is the best lyricist of the lot and it’s easier to let him work when inspiration strikes than beg him to focus when he can’t get a solitary idea to stick.
“So why’d you pick that one, Ger-bear?” Lambert drawls. Aiden nods and leans against Lambert’s side. Geralt can’t help the mild jealousy that overtakes him every time he sees his bandmates touch each other with such casual affection. He wants that intimacy, that softness behind the veneer of famous indifference. He wants someone to hold. 
“Yeah. What drew your attention to that poor unfortunate soul. Was it the floppy hair, the big blue eyes, or the dopey grin?” Aiden smirks.
“Hmm.”
“Fuck you,” Eskel sighs, looking between the two troublemakers with the tired gaze of an eldest sibling, “Fuck you for even asking in the first place and expecting a straight answer.”
“Straight is the furthest thing from his answer,” Lambert chuckles. He is promptly smacked in the head with one of the couch’s hideous throw pillows. The youngest member of the band rubs the side of his face and chuckles, “Alright, I deserved that one.”
---
“Holy shit!” Jaskier practically screams. “Holy motherfucking shit!”
“What!?” Yennefer comes flying around the corner. “What’s wrong!?”
“Nothing is wrong, Yenna! Everything is awesome! Everything absolutely fucking rocks!”
“Did you get hit on the head by a falling branch between here and the mailbox or what? You were whining about your finals work not five min-”
“Look at this!” Jaskier shoves an open envelope into her hands and cuts her off. Yennefer reads the watermarked documents once. Twice. Her eyes almost pop out of her head when the words and their meanings finally sink in. 
“Are you fucking with me right now?”
“No, I am absolutely not!” her giddy roommate cheers, bouncing up and down in place. “I did it! I won!”
“Holy shit.”
“I know! I get to kiss Geralt deRiv!” he practically cackles. Then freezes. “Holy fuck I get to kiss Geralt deRiv.”
“You said that already,” Yen teases. She shoves the paperwork back into his hands and grabs a takeout menu from the junk drawer near her hip. “Since you won the makeout lottery, you get to buy lunch. Lucky bastard.”
---
“So this will be your dressing room,” someone’s underpaid PA says, ushering Jaskier into a small, bright room. “Priscilla will be here shortly to get you into hair and makeup.”
“Oh, uh- thanks!”
“Yup.”
And with that, the young man disappears back down the hallway toward the sound stage. Jaskier jogs his leg anxiously as he waits for Priscilla to arrive, nervous and otherwise totally alone in the huge grey building. As the minutes tick by and his heart rate rises, Jaskier’s intrusive thoughts make an unwanted appearance: What if they forget about me being here? What if there’s been a mistake and they accidentally hired two love interests and I just sit in here for hours all alone while-
“Hi!” a bright, peppy blonde woman flies through the door and startles him back to reality. “Nice to meet you, I’m Priscilla! You can call me Priss; I’ll be doing your hair and makeup for the video this week!”
“Oh… hi. I’m Julian, but I prefer Jaskier.”
“Lovely! Well, Jaskier, is your hair naturally this color?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Perfect! I don’t want to mess with such a lovely shade of natural brown, but do you mind if I give it a bit of a trim? I have a few ideas for styles right here in my book- How do you feel about some feathering back here? I think-” she fluffs a few of the hairs around the nape of Jaskier’s neck “-I could really bring out the curls if I adjusted the length a bit and used some product.”
“Just, uhm, go for it, then! Feel free to make me as pretty as possible!” Jaskier declares. He’s committing to this experience wholeheartedly, determined to allow himself every opportunity for positive change. He wants to really let himself enjoy it, and he needs a haircut anyway. Priscilla spends an hour washing, cutting, drying, and styling his hair into a lovely fringed sweep across his forehead. It ends just above his brows, giving his face a slightly softer shape than usual. He grins over his shoulder, “I love it! I’m going to miss you when I’m back at Oxenfurt. Good stylists are so hard to find.”
Priss blushes and nudges against his shoulder, “Oh, you little charmer.”
“I mean it,” he says, examining himself in the mirror. “I look like I could really be worthy of a heroic rescue! This is going to be such a fantastic memory, and I appreciate it. Thank you so much.”
Priss bites back a genuine tear and smiles, “Now that your natural prettiness has been mildly enhanced, let’s get you over to wardrobe, shall we?”
“Wardrobe? Do I have, like, a costume? What’s the music video even about?”
“They didn’t tell you any of this when you got here?”
“Not… not really.”
“Well, my darling, I think you’re really going to like it; they’ve got you in Versace for the first scene.”
“Versace!?” 
Then Jaskier is being ushered into a bright, colorful room full to bursting with grim-faced, middle-aged women and he loses track of his only braincell for the rest of the morning.
---
“You must be Julian!” Lambert declares, bounding up to him and grinning. It’s a feral, animalistic grin and Jaskier resists the sudden urge to take a step back.
“I prefer Jaskier, if you don’t mind too much,” Jaskier corrects him quietly. Lambert rolls his eyes in a long-suffering kind of way and throws a meaty arm around the shorter man’s shoulders, completely ignoring the wardrobe technician’s wincing as he wrinkles the expensive silk jacket. 
“No need to be quiet and polite around here, my dude. We’re just a bunch of rowdy idiots, aren’t we, guys?” 
“Hell yeah!” Aiden calls back. Eskel sighs like the put-upon nanny in a Victorian Redanian comedy. 
“Speak for yourself,” Coen barely lifts his frosted tips up from his book long enough to speak. Geralt is-
Holy motherfucking Britney Spears on toast.
Geralt is the hottest thing Jaskier has ever seen in his short, unfulfilled-until-right-now life. Forget Ralph Macchio. Forget Leonardo Dicaprio and Kate Winslet and Winona Ryder. This man is… Geralt deRiv is… he’s the picture of perfection. And he’s right there, standing in front of an elaborate party set with his thick, beautiful arms crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on the floor, as if willing it to swallow him whole. Jaskier realizes that he probably didn’t have any choice in the matter; maybe this was just as awkward and uncomfortable for Geralt as it was for Jaskier. 
“Ger-bear!” Lambert whoops, yanking Jaskier closer to the brooding frontman. If only he were brave enough to struggle for escape; alas. “This is your boy-toy for the week. Goes by Jaskier, apparently.”
“Nice to meet you,” Geralt manages to grunt. “How did you like the script?”
“I haven’t uh- I haven’t actually seen it?”
“Shit. Fuck. One second,” Geralt huffs, disappearing into the crowd of technicians and machinery operators and PAs. Jaskier loves him already, for real. Sure, he was pretty in the music videos and promo material, but the way he said fuck like it was the noblest word he could think of… Geralt interrupts his train of thought by coming back with a sheaf of papers clutched in his hand. He shuffle-shoves them into Jaskier’s arms immediately. “There you go.”
“Thank you!” Jaskier smiles. It’s genuine and shy, more tenuous than his usual goofy grin. He flips through the pages, glancing between the script to his expensive suit, “So I’m guessing we’re at a party for this scene? Or something?”
“This is… where we meet. This is where… you and I uh…”
Jaskier’s eyes scan the page as Geralt’s ability to speak slowly leaves him. 
Lover ENTERS LEFT, dressed to the nines. Lover adjusts their tie/boa and takes a look around the room. S/He looks sad and a little hopeful. PULL BACK to Geralt, who approaches slowly. Their eyes meet. HOLD SHOT. PULL BACK as they move towards each other. Geralt pulls Lover into his arms and they begin to dance.
“Oh, wow.”
“I hope it’s okay! If you’re not comfortable with that kind of thing we can-”
“I’ll be alright, thank you. I came here to put my acting chops to the test. Well, that and meet my favorite band, of course. Thank you again, by the way. It’s been wonderful so far and I really appreciate you allowing me to be here.”
“Allowing? Psh. Geralt ha-” Lambert is cut off by Aiden, who elbows him sharply in the side. “Ow! What the fuck, babe?”
“I knew it!” Jaskier crows, distracted. “I knew you two were an item!”
“They’re not exactly subtle.”
“They never confirm anything either,” Jaskier retorts. Geralt shrugs his acknowledgement and moves back towards the set. Jaskier follows after the taller man like a lost puppy, eyes flicking from one thing to the next, hungry for detail even in his anxiety ridden state. This is a once-in-a-lifetime experience and he doesn’t want to waste a solitary second of it. “This is incredible, really just...wow. You guys do this all the time? You get to make tiny little movies for already great songs that you get to perform for millions of adoring fans? And you get paid!?”
Geralt hadn’t ever really thought about it like that. He’d been raised in the industry. He’d signed to Kaer Morhen Records as an early teen because his mother was a member of the Board of Directors and he’d been making music ever since; an outsider’s perspective to things was… new. A little strange. “Yeah, I guess that is pretty much what we do.”
“Wow.”
“It’s not that exciting, I promise.”
“Have you ever written a fifteen page paper about the history of lute-string design and manufacturing?” 
“No.”
“Then kindly shut the fuck up about what I should consider exciting,” Jaskier grins. Geralt is immediately and irrevocably smitten. Fuck. It hasn’t even been fifteen minutes! “So, which door am I entering from?”
“Left,” Geralt points. Jaskier skips over and begins to introduce himself to the sound and lights crew. His smile seems to be as infectious as his cheer and soon the entire set crew is smiling at one another. There’s been a literal shift in the atmosphere; if he didn’t know any better, the TW5 frontman thinks Jaskier might be some kind of magical creature, because he can’t just be human. Geralt is well and truly fucked, and everyone in the band already knows.
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---
“What do you think?” Jaskier asks, slipping anxiously from behind the changing screen. The Versace is gone and in its place are a pair of tight, high-waisted blue pleather pants and a billowing white shirt, which has been strategically ripped in several places to reveal slivers of the lightly tanned skin that lies beneath. He looks like he’s in desperate need of rescuing. He looks like every fantasy Geralt has ever had about the perfect guy. He looks like a fucking dream.
“Nice,” he says.
Lambert and Aiden wolf-whistle and cheer as they approach. Aiden claps twice, loudly, and shoots Jaskier a set of finger guns, “Hot damn, baby. You single? You lookin’ to mingle? Because I am bi and spoon like a Pringle.”
“First of all, babe, I love you but that was the most horrific combination of words yet known to man. Second of all, yeah, I’d dump Aiden for you for sure,” Lambert adds. Jaskier is at a total loss for words. His mouth hangs open and his breath comes in uneven little gasps for a moment.
“Uh… I- Thank you?”
“Oh god, Eskel! Eskel, he’s short circuiting, do something.”
“You absolute-” Eskel groans and makes his way over to the gathered group. He tugs Jaskier away and over to the other end of the set, where a comically huge rocket/bomb (Jaskier can’t tell) is standing at the center of a vaguely science-themed room. A laboratory, maybe? Or like, a really weird spacecraft? A hospital run by rocket scientists? It doesn’t matter, it’s the Evil Lair of the Villain and that’s where Jaskier is being held captive. “Here, Cameron and Elise will help you get set up for the next scene. I’m sorry about the boys they’re... gay?”
“I understand,” Jaskier nods sagely and Eskel relaxes. Then for comedy’s sake he adds an equally dramatic, “I too am... gay.”
The set dresser, an electrician, and a few specialists (likely a rope rigger among them) come over and tie Jaskier to the bomb/rocket/villainous mechanism, ending his conversation with Eskel, who is now in a much better mood than he was before. 
Jaskier is told to make sure his hands are crossed behind the small of his back and the director instructs him to wiggle back and forth “as convincingly as possible without actually getting loose or moving the ropes too much”. Which is manageable, he supposes. 
“Then, when the chorus comes up, we’ll get a few shots of the boys dancing in front of you,” the director continues to explain. That’s… kind weird, but okay. I’ve seen weirder. “Then we’ll do the action shots, with Geralt rescuing you. Are you okay to do the kiss, or would you rather not? We have dynamic shots with or without, so it’s totally up to you.”
“I’m fine with that,” Jaskier smiles shyly. “I consent to be smooched.”
“Adorable,” Lambert calls. Jaskier blushes and the director shoots Lambert a glare. 
“He’s already pink enough, don’t make me change my gels you little shithead!”
“Sorry, Pierre!”
“Fucking sorry my ass,” Pierre grumbles beneath his breath. Then he smiles at Jaskier. “Do something nasty to him for me, will you? Not too nasty but… just a little?”
“I’ve got your back,” Jaskier winks. 
“No plotting! Not fair!” Aiden whines.
“You have a team,” Pierre retorts. “Now I have a team.”
“Rules are rules,” Eskel sighs. “Now can we please shoot this damn video?”
“Right,” Pierre claps, getting everyone’s attention. “Places!”
---
Geralt races up the stairs, trying to keep the long sleeves of his black mesh shirt from catching on any of the set pieces. The solid black t-shirt he’s wearing underneath makes his arms and back look bulkier than normal; it’s a visual technique to make him look larger than Jaskier, whose billowing white shirt will hide how wide his shoulders actually are. Fuck, those are some nice shoulders. And the smattering of dark chest hair that peeks from the front of the college student’s shirt? Geralt wants to bury his face in it.
Okay, focus. 
He reaches the top of the set and rushes towards Jaskier, ripping the ropes from around his torso and pulling him close. He cups the back of Jaskier’s head with his upstage hand, framing the slightly smaller man for the camera and making him seem even shorter, another trick of angles and body posturing. Geralt plays Jaskier like an instrument, bending him back by placing his downstage arm around Jaskier’s waist, pressing their mouths together and holding them still for as long as it takes the director to yell, “Cut!” with a satisfied tone of voice. 
Geralt’s suspicions are confirmed when Pierre laughs and claps some more and cries, “Print it, lads! That was a one-take wonder!”
He tries to ignore the way Jaskier’s shoulders slump as if disappointed. “Good job,” he manages to say.
“You, too.” Geralt wishes he could keep a picture of Jaskier smiling in his back pocket forever. No other sight could light up the world so effortlessly. “Thanks for being gentle.”
“I’m trying to sweep you off your feet,” the singer shrugs. Jaskier wiggles his eyebrows and follows Geralt down the narrow set stairs.
“Are you, really?”
“Is it working?” Geralt asks, turning to look up at Jaskier. The student pauses to look at him and his foot catches on an uneven board. He topples forward with a short cry of surprise and seems surprised when Geralt reaches out to catch him. “Jaskier!”
“Oh my god!” Lambert races over, Aiden hot on his heels. “Are you okay, dude?”
“I’m fine,”  Jaskier laughs, a little breathless. “Just a little shocked.”
“You should take him to get a snack or something,” Eskel says, nudging his shoulder against Geralt’s. “He’s been busy all day and hasn’t even been to craft services.”
“You haven’t eaten?” Geralt asks, honestly baffled. Jaskier shakes his head, face heating once again. He wishes he could stop blushing, but Geralt’s presence seems to make it impossible. He wraps one arm around the younger man’s temptingly slender waist and leads him towards the food carts. He shoves a couple of sandwiches and a bottle of punch into Jaskier’s hands, not giving him a chance to argue. “Here, I’ll have something, too.”
“Thanks,” Jaskier smiles, understanding that he is, in turn, being understood. They sit comfortable folding chairs off to the side, food spread across their laps. Jaskier laughs and chats around his mouthfuls, pulling things from Geralt like his favorite color and his least favorite nicknames. Songs he liked and dances he disliked. 
“You made it fun again, today,” the singer smiles. “Thank you for that. I wish you could be here for every video shoot.”
“Looking for another member of the band?” Jaskier jokes, doing some half-hearted jazz hands. Geralt shakes his head and laughs. 
“I wish we were,” he sighs. “But I guess five is the magic number.”
“Makes the dances look cooler,” Jaskier nods. “I agree with whoever made that decision. I wouldn’t dare ruin the aesthetic.”
Geralt laughs again and Vesemir turns to look, honestly shocked at the volume of the sound. 
“Plus, you can’t be the frontman if there’s no front.”
“Shut up,” Geralt chuckles, still grinning broadly. 
Vesemir makes a phone call.
---
2 Weeks Later, Backstage in Kaedwen
---
“He’s been sulking like this ever since Jaskier went back to Oxenfurt,” Lambert whines. “C’mon Vesemir, do something.”
“What do you want me to do, make Geralt’s boyfriend appear out of thin air?”
“Not my boyfriend,” Geralt growls, stomping past his bandmates and manager. He can’t help but feel grumpy. Jaskier had been like the sun, bringing light and wonder to everything he touched, and without that joy around it doesn’t seem worth the extra effort to smile. So he’s been moping. 
“Fucking hell,” Vesemir sighs. “Thank goodness I thought ahead.”
“What do you mean?” Eskel asks, joining the little group in the hallway outside the dressing room. “What did you think of?”
“Three,” Vesemir smiles, glancing at his watch. “Two… One…”
“Boooooys,” echoes a high tenor. “Where’s my welcome wagon, Vesemir?”
“Jaskier!” Aiden practically screams, leaping out of the dressing room and flying down the hall. Lambert follows at a sprint and Vesemir hears the resounding oof oh fuck of both giddy musicians hitting their mark. 
Geralt comes back down the hall at a jog, eyes searching frantically. “I thought I heard-”
“Geralt!”
Vesemir’s heart clenches in his chest at the way Geralt’s face lights up. At the end of the hallway, surrounded by spilled luggage and apologetic boyband members, is Jaskier. Geralt floats to him, it seems, like he’s dreaming the whole thing. Jaskier takes his hands and then releases them and wraps his arms low around Geralt’s hips instead. 
“I missed you the most,” he whispers, just for Geralt to hear. “Couldn’t sleep without listening to your CD. I know it’s silly but I really like you.”
“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers reverently into his shaggy brown hair. “What are you doing here?”
“I was going to do my thesis on pop culture’s relation to music history,” he says. “And then the manager of TW5 called Oxenfurt and offered me the opportunity to do some… first hand research while I worked on finishing the paper.”
“R-Really? You’re going to be here… every day?”
“Do you… do you not want me he-”
Geralt kisses him before he can even finish the question. It’s a stupid question anyway, of course Geralt wants him here. Wants him right here, kissing him silly. The singer presses his lips desperately, crushingly against Jaskier’s; he never wants to part from this man again. He never wants to be without that glorious laughter and contagious liveliness. Who knew that life could be so full of delight and happiness if he only let it? 
He kisses Jaskier for all he’s worth and more, pouring his heart and soul into it. When they pull apart, both gasping for air, Geralt asks, “Stay with me, Jaskier? You don’t have to do anything I just-”
“I’d love to be the big spoon,” Jaskier winks, whispering again. “Thank you, Geralt, for the rescue.”
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