#but things got in my way and I got carried away writing this and it's somehow 7k???
Text
Follow my lead
» Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader
» Word count: 5,8k (help, i got a little carried away..)
» Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, squint and you'll miss the plot, established relationship, reader hasn't been able to orgasm from masturbation alone, mentions of using sex toys to cum (f), guided masturbation, masturbation (f and m), praising / praise kink, dirty talk, unintentional edging (f), voyerism, multiple orgasms, some begging, a lot of check ins, unprotected p in v, creampie, i think this already counts as (soft)dom!Spencer, pet names (good girl for reader, baby, love)
» A/N: and here we have my first entry for the bingo! it's my first time participating in a bigger challenge, i can't tell you all how excited i am about this whole thing. don't ask me what happend here, i was shocked when i checked the word count... also, this is the first time writing smut again after years, so bare with me please. hope you enjoy!
⚶ bingo masterlist | masterlist ⚶
“Never?”
“Never. I don't know, it just doesn't do it for me.”
“But you are- I mean, when”, Spencer mumbled, waving his hands around and pointing at you then him, back and forth a couple of times. “When we-”, he trailed off, his cheeks blushing as he got shy and a bit insecure.
“Oh? No”, you started but when his eyes slightly widened you realized it came out wrong. You stepped closer to him and took his hands in yours, softly squeezing them as you looked up at him with a reassuring smile. “Yes, it works when we are sleeping with each other. You do make me cum.” He huffed out a small laugh and blushed a bit more, but the insecurity that had bubbled up was leaving him again.
You pulled him in to you and placed his hands on your waist, then leaned against him and rested your chin against his chest, looking up at him. Shrugging, you wrapped your arms around his mid. “I just can't finish from only touching myself. Not without using toys that require batteries at least.”
Spencer softly squeezed your waist and started drawing circles with his thumbs. He slightly squinted his eyes and nodded his head a couple of times in thought; you could practically hear the gears turning as an idea formed in his mind. You raised your chin. “What?”
“Show me.”
“Huh? Show you? You mean, you...”, you trailed off. Now it was your turn to get shy, the heat rising up in your body, creeping higher until your face grew hot. “You want to watch me.. masturbate?”
Spencer nodded, one side of his lips turned up in a teasing half smile. “Yes. You said I make you cum, so there must be something I'm doing right.” Both of you chuckled at that. “You could show me how you touch yourself and I could talk you through it. If you'd like to try, I mean.”
Subconsciously you pressed you thighs together, which Spencer didn't miss. You licked over your bottom lip, then pulled it between your teeth as you thought about what he was saying. Spencer's eyes followed the motion as he was studying your face, studying your reaction to his proposition.
The thought alone made your heart beat faster and it ignited a raging fire in you. The thought of his eyes watching closely as you lie before him, legs spread and with your hands between your thighs. His voice and words guiding and aiding your pleasure, telling you what to do and how to do it...
Your breath hitched and you swallowed hard. He raised one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb softly brushed over the corner of your mouth. “Is that a yes?”, he asked, his voice low. Spencer already knew the answer just by watching your reaction, but wanted you to say it out loud. His other hand sneaked under your shirt, his fingertips caressing your skin on their way higher and higher until he stopped at your ribs.
If he would give you a second, just one second without him touching or teasing you in some way, you would be able to form a sentence and answer with more than a nod. As if he had read your mind, Spencer slightly pulled back, giving you space to breathe and without his hands on you.
And even though this was what you had wanted a few seconds ago so you could properly answer him, you immediately missed his touch and a whine escaped you. He just chuckled and raised an eyebrow, encouraging you to speak, still waiting for an answer.
“Okay. Yes”, you breathed out and nodded, “wanna do it.” A desperate plea still on your tongue, he cupped your cheeks and pressed his lips to yours.
You sighed against his mouth, your lips parting. Spencer deepened the kiss and both of you moaned when your tongues met. A shiver ran down your spine when you felt his hands slide down over your neck and collarbones, over your chest where he was careful not to touch your nipples through the fabric and down to your sides, where he pushed them back under the hem of your shirt, slowly making his way up..
The kiss only broke for a moment when he pulled your shirt over your head, his lips instantly reattaching to yours and his hands back on you, now able to roam freely over your skin without any restrictions. You slid your own hands over his chest and started to unbutton his dress shirt. You just undid the last button when you gasped and bunched up the material in your hands; Spencer slowly slid one of his hands under the hem of your panties and groaned against your lips when he felt how wet you were.
His finger slid through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he drew slow and gentle circles on your clit. When your breath hitched and you began to grind your hips against his hand, he stopped and pulled his hand out of your pants
“Nuh-uh, the deal was for you to make yourself cum; with your own hands”, he taunted, as if he hadn't started this himself just now. He lifted your chin and pressed a kiss to your lips. When he leaned back you tried to chase his lips, whining when he left you hanging and took a step back, shrugging the shirt off his shoulders as he did so. Then he took another step. And another. “Take the rest of your clothes off.”
The buckle of his belt rattled as Spencer opened it, your eyes followed his hands. You watched him pull it out of the loops and drop it to the floor next to him before he unbuttoned his pants – but kept them on – and sat down in the armchair. His eyes never left you, following each of your moves. You hooked your thumbs into the hem of your pants and underwear and pulled them down, letting them pool around your ankles.
“Sit down, spread your legs and put your hands on your knees.”
You stepped out of the pile of fabric and kicked them to the side, right onto the rest of your discarded clothes, then you did as he told you and sat down across from him on the sofa, slowly opening your legs.
Being naked in front of Spencer was one thing, but this? It was a totally new feeling for you; a different – a special – kind of vulnerability you had never experienced before, not with him, not with anybody.
You felt like your skin was on fire, inch after inch getting ignited as Spencer's eyes wandered over your naked body, lingering here and there for a moment; on your bottom lip when you licked over it and pulled it between your teeth, the swell of your breasts and your hardening nipples, down over your soft stomach to your glistening pussy, already wet from his teasing, and your hands loosely resting on your knees.
“Like that. Good girl.”
This wasn't the first time he called you a 'good girl', but today... Fuck... A shiver ran down your back and you were barely able to hold back a whimper, the ache in your core getting stronger and you felt yourself clench around nothing. God, you wanted to feel him deep inside you; tongue, fingers, cock. What ever you could get. What ever he would give you. Your hands shook in anticipation and you felt yourself getting wetter and needier.
Spencer's eyes darkened when he saw your intense reaction to the praise and his jaw went slack for a moment before he fixed his gaze back on your face, trying to gain back some composure. His hands held a tight grip on the armrests, his knuckles almost white, as if he had to physically hold himself back from just getting up and ravaging you right then and there.
You loved the effect you had on him, that just seeing you drove him crazy. It made you feel powerful.
He took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly breathed out, calming himself down. His grip on the armrests loosened then and he leaned back. “I want you to start by moving your hands over your thighs”, he instructed, his voice low and raspy. “Slowly.”
Without having to think about it you followed his words and let your hands glide over your soft skin with a gentle pressure; from your knees over the outsides of your thighs until you reached your hips, then you moved them up to slide them back down to your knees again.
“You can touch your inner thighs as well, but don't touch your pussy yet.”
You nodded and took a shaky breath. The insides of your thighs were more sensitive and you shuddered as you got closer and closer to your core and a soft moan escaped your lips. Even though Spencer told you not to, you wanted nothing more than to play with your clit or slide two of your fingers inside, thrusting them in and out.
And when he moved his hand to his bulge, palming himself as he watched you, you thought that maybe, he would let you do it. He didn't give you permission and you didn't ask, but you didn't stop moving your hands further up. But when your fingertips got too close to your folds, he clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“Sorry”, you mumbled breathless and pulled your hands back. You slid them back down, closer to your knees, and grabbed your thighs.
“'s okay, baby.” Then Spencer chuckled. “And you can sit more comfortably if you want, by the way. You don't have to sit up with a straight back.”
You pouted with a smile on your lips as you looked beside you and grabbed a pillow to put it behind your back. “I knew that.” You leaned back, testing if the pillow was in a good position and when you where satisfied with the placement you scooted back some more and fully rested your body against it.
“Anything you feel like doing right now?”, Spencer asked. You opened your mouth, but before you could say anything he added with a smirk: “Except for touching your pussy.”
You grinned at him. “What about for you to fuck me?” But he just shook his head, chuckling.
“Patience, love.”
Well, it was still worth a try. You held back the disappointed and needy whine that wanted to come out and for a moment you tried to think about it, you really did. But you made the mistake to look down his torso and Spencer's hand was just too damn distracting. He was still palming himself over his pants, softly squeezing from time to time. And while he was waiting for your answer, he lazily stroked his thumb back and forth over his clothed shaft.
The words came out choked and barely audible when you finally forced yourself to answer, your fingers digging hard in to your flesh. “Don't know...”
“First thing that comes to mind.” His voice was lazed with amusement; Spencer was enjoying this so much and he knew exactly what he was doing to you right now. His tongue darted out to lick over his lip and the softly bit down in the tip.
After a deep breath you made yourself look at his face and softened the grip you had on your thighs. “Maybe... touch my breasts? My nipples?”
He smiled softly. “No wrong answers here.” With a tilt of his head he raised his chin as confirmation. “Go ahead. Keep your hands on your body.”
With a tender touch your moved your hands up your body, softly caressing your skin, up to your tits and cupped them with your hands.
“Gently massage them, play with your nipples.”
You gasped when you followed his instructions and rolled your hard nipples between your fingers, the sensation shooting waves of pleasure down to your core. With every flick and twist you grew needier. Impatient.
"Feels good?", he asked breathy, his voice shaking a bit when he moved his hand faster and with more pressure over his cock.
"Not as good as when you do it”, you whined.
Spencer chuckled again; his tone teasing. "Want me to touch you?"
You nodded your head eagerly, your back slightly arching into your hands. "Mh-hm, please."
"Wanna see you make yourself cum first, okay? You can do it. I'll touch you as much as you want after."
If you wouldn't get some kind of release soon, you would go insane, completely feral. Closing your legs to press your thighs together for some friction wasn't an option and with the way you were sitting you couldn't exactly try and rub yourself against the sofa. And maybe it was written on your face in big, bold letters, because Spencer – finally – gave you the go.
“Slide your hands down your stomach, move your fingertips over your lips and tease yourself for a moment – yes, good, like that. When you are ready, go ahead and touch your clit. Soft circles.”
The first stoke of your fingers over your clit felt like heaven and ecstasy flooded through your whole body. Your head fell back and you moaned loudly; it felt so good to finally be able to feel your fingers where you so desperately had wanted them that your body started to tremble. A string of mashed together words fell from your lips, you didn't even realize you were saying them. ”Thankyouthankyouthankyou-”
You melted back into the pillow, gasping and moaning as the pleasure became more and more; your other hand found its way back to your tits on its own, groping at the soft flesh and teasing your nipple as your fingers between your legs moved in slow, tight circles.
The sound of clothes rustling made you lift your head; Spencer lifted his hips to slip off his pants, letting them pool around his ankles. He adjusted his position and leaned back, his knees slightly falling apart and he wrapped his hand around his hard cock.
The sight made you whimper, the need to taste him and feel him overtaking your whole being. But you knew, even if you would ask – beg – him to fuck you, he wouldn't do it, not now; you hadn't cum yet. So you did the next best thing and pushed two of your fingers into your leaking cunt.
A breathy laugh fell from Spencer's lips as he watched you start to thrust your fingers into yourself as soon as you had seen him. His grip on his cock tightened and he started to pump his fist faster, not holding back his own moans. He so desperately wanted to bury himself in your tight walls and it took everything in him to hold back. “God, you look so perfect right now... So fucking pretty.”
The both of you worked each other up, the pleasure getting more intense with every stroke; hands moving, touching and teasing with more and more want and desperation.
But somehow it still wasn't enough. “Can I go faster?”, you whimpered, your voice wavering.
“Of course, baby. Go as fast or as slow as you want.”
The room filled with both of your moans and panting, and the sounds of skin hitting on skin – Spencer's fist hitting his pelvis and the palm of your hand slapping against your slick cunt – as you gradually picked up the pace until you were franticly fucking yourself with your fingers.
After a while you slowed down your pace again, trying to catch your breath. You felt the familiar knot form in your belly as you pumped your fingers in and out of your heat, your walls fluttering around them.
“Think I'm getting close...”, you breathed out, followed by a high-pitched gasp when your palm rubbed over your clit.
A groan formed in the back of Spencer's throat. “Touch your clit again; you can go slow or fast, in circles or not, however it feels right.”
You pulled your fingers out and swirled them over your clit, your fingertips effortlessly sliding over it. The muscles in your stomach tightened as your orgasm built up. You fought against the urge to thrust your hips up, trying to keep your focus on rubbing your clit. You didn't want to get distracted, this was the closest you had ever gotten yourself and if you had to concentrate on moving your hips as well as your hand and fingers, you wouldn't be able to keep up with both movements.
Your breathing got quicker and heat was rising up in your body. Just when you felt like you would burst – it stopped; instead of falling over the edge your body refused to go further, keeping you right on the ledge. As if it was taunting you, the sensation became weaker, not even leaving you on the edge any more.
It was always like this when you tried to finish without a toy; your managed to make yourself feel good and when you got close – which also felt like it took forever to even get there – your body refused to give you the release you had been chasing.
A whine left your lips, you were borderline sobbing, as you squeezed your eyes shut. The need to cum and the frustration that it wasn't working, together with the unintentionally edging had you close to tears. You slowed your movements, but kept going nonetheless. “I can't. Told you it doesn't work for me.”
“Don't fight it, you almost had it. Let your body take control and let it guide you.”
You nodded eagerly and met his eyes. “Okay, I- I'll try.” You tried to hold his gaze and after a deep breath you slowly pick up the pace again. Spencer matched your pace, the slow lazy strokes getting faster as he pumped his cock with the same speed your fingers were circling your clit. Your eyelids fluttered as your gaze flickered between his face – all flushed, desire burning in his eyes and slack-jawed, with his lips slightly parted – and his hand stroking his erection.
This time when your hips jolted, you let it happen and shifted your focus to what you were feeling instead of what you were doing. It took you a moment or two to fully let go and give into the pleasure, your movements faltering a couple of times until your mind cleared and your hips and fingers synced up to work together in a delicious, steady rhythm.
“That's it, baby. Just like that. You are doing so well.” Spencer's voice was low and his tone had gotten so gravelly, he was almost growling.
You leaned back, your moans getting louder again as heat spread under your skin until your whole body was on fire , the knot in your stomach began to tighten again. It got tighter and tighter until –
“Oh fuck”, you screamed out in between your moans as your legs began to shake, and when the coil in your lower belly snapped your thighs clamped shut. Your hand stilled and your fingers stopped working your clit; instead your hips kept jolting, thrusting up into your fingers and prolonged your orgasm on their own accord. Your back arched off the sofa and you slapped your other hand on the cushion next to you, tightly gripping it in your fist.
When your body finally calmed down you gasped for air and through the foggy haze clouding your mind you vaguely registered moaning and a string of words – probably an array of curses, maybe even some praise about how well you did, how pretty you looked when you came, good girl – but the blood rushing through your ears was too loud, making it hard to make out any words.
As your muscles relaxed more, your body got limb and let yourself slide along the back of the couch until you were lying down; pulling one leg onto the couch, the other still hanging down. The more oxygen you got, the more you came back to. The shaking in your legs had almost stopped, instead your shoulders started to shake as you began to giggle. “Holy shit.”
A low laugh made you turn your head to the side and open your eyes. Your were met with Spencer's face right next to yours, a proud smile on his lips as he took in your blissed out state. He had just knelt down next to you, his hand found its way to your forehead and brushed away a few sweaty strands. “See? Knew you could do it, 'm so proud of you, baby.” He moved his hand to cup your cheeks, then further down to curl it around the back of your neck.
Your smile grew bigger and you took a shaky breath to say something, but before you could Spencer pulled you closer and kissed you desperately; the need to be near you, touch you, feel you, overpowering him. You kissed him back just as feverishly and buried your hands in his hair. Spencer let his hand wander from your neck down to your breasts, his fingers leaving your skin burning up and begging for more. He cupped one of them, gently massaging it and started playing with your nipple, rolling it between his fingertips and pinching it with just the right amount of pressure that made you tremble and arch your back into him.
You whimpered and softly tugged on the strands at the back of his head. He groaned into your mouth in return and you felt him shift his position as he got up, pulling his knee up to hold him self up so he could lean over you. His touch and his lips, finally feeling his hands on your body, made you feel dizzy and reignited the ache in your core, your clit throbbing, desperately waiting for his attention.
The sudden feeling of his hand between your thighs made you jump a little, you broke the kiss and gasped which quickly turned into a high-pitched moan when he slipped one of his fingers in between your slick folds, only grazing your entrance as he collected some of your arousal. You were still sensitive from your orgasm, but the rush of him finally touching you was stronger and you started to move your hips.
He didn't make you wait long and so after a few tight circles over your clit, he slid his fingers down to your entrance and sank two of them into you, filling you up so much better than your own had done and reaching that spot deep inside you that you couldn't quite reach yourself.
The both of you quickly fell in an easy rhythm with each other and he had you a moaning and blabbering mess in a matter of seconds; it would almost be embarrassing if you would care about it. It blew your mind every time – every god damn day – how much power Spencer held over you, both body and mind. And if he would be anybody else, it might even scare you.
“You looked so beautiful, love, you have no idea”, Spencer breathlessly cooed against your delicate skin, kissing and softly nibbling along your neck and throat. “Could watch you play with yourself all day.”
You wouldn't be able to say anything to him even if you wanted, your mind getting blank and fuzzy; all what left your lips where breathy moans and pleas. A whiny gasp left your throat when he curled his fingers, pressing his fingertips against the very spot that made you see stars.
Spencer kissed his way to the sensitive spot under your ear and when he spoke again, whispering into your ear, his lips grazed it. “Can feel how close you are, it's okay, baby. Come for me.”
He asked and your body complied.
With his name on your lips, repeating it over and over like a prayer, your orgasm washed over you. Your eyes rolled back and when your whole body tensed up, you tried to hold on to something to anchor yourself. You blindly reached for his wrist and held it in a tight grip, your other hand curled around his arm, clawing at his biceps. Spencer kept the pace he was circling your clit with his thumb with and pumping his fingers into you as you clenched around them, trying to suck him in deeper.
Your walls were still fluttering around his fingers when you released his wrist from your grip and moved your hand to the back of his head, pulling him even closer to you. The vibrations of him chuckling against your pulse tickled your skin and you whined quietly when he slowly pulled his fingers out of your cunt, leaving you empty. He slightly leaned back and looked at you, a crooked smirk stretched on his lips. “Still want more, huh?”
“Please, baby, need you, please.” You keened, not at all caring how needy you sounded.
He shook his head at you, not to say no, but in a affectionate you are something else kind of way. “Think you got enough strength left to hold yourself up a little?”
“Yes, think so.” You swallowed and breathed deeply, nodding your head as you held his gaze. ”I will.”
“That's my good girl.” Spencer closed the small space between you and kissed you, swallowing the whiny sound you made, his lips lingering on yours for a moment, then he helped you to sit up. You watched him reach for the other pillows that had scattered around the couch and bunch them up, piling them against the back of the seats, right next to you. “C'mere.”
His hands found your hips and you let him guide you in to the position he had wanted you in, right against the pillows. He guided you to sit – kneel really – in front of the piled up pillows, chest facing them and gently pushed your upper body with a hand between your shoulder blades down. You lay against the pile, letting it support your body and after adjusting it a bit, you crossed your arms on top and placed your head down; you were practically hugging the whole thing.
He nudged your leg with his knee to spread your legs more so he could kneel behind you. With a sigh you relaxed your muscles and enjoyed Spencers hands roaming over your back. He planted a couple of kisses on your neck and shoulder, then placed his hand on the backrest behind you to hold himself up and craned his neck to catch your eyes. You shifted the position of your head slightly so you could look at him better.
“Are you comfortable?”
You smiled at him and hummed, nodding your head. Spencer returned the smile and leaned closer, to capture your lips in a kiss. It was supposed to be a quick one, just a small peck, but his front was now flush against your back and his dick had fit so perfectly between you, with his shaft splitting your folds and pressed against your entrance that he couldn't hold back any more.
So instead, he moved his hand from the sofa to the back of your head, holding you close as he slid his tongue into your mouth and deepened the kiss. You moaned into each others mouths, desperately rocking your hips against each other. He pressed himself against you as close as possible, leaving no space between your bodies, as if he wanted to make up for the time he hadn't touched you all evening.
All it took was for him to pull back just a bit more and his cock slipped right into you, bottoming out at once. “Shit”, you hissed at the sudden stretch, directly followed by crying out his name in pleasure when he pulled out just an inch or two and slowly thrust back in, even deeper.
His forehead fell to your shoulder and Spencer let out a long, deep moan. He placed his left hand back on the backrest – closer to your front this time so his arm was circling around you, more like he was holding you in a hug – and his other took a tight hold on your hip. For a long moment neither of you moved, just basking in the feeling of each other and trying to catch your breaths.
Every time you exhaled, a soft whimpering sigh left your lips. You pulled your left arm out from under your body and reached for his hand on the backrest, slotting your fingers between his. He moved his fingers slightly so he could gently squeeze yours.
Spencer was the first to move. You felt him lift his head and press his lips to your shoulder, before he repeated the same slow and deep thrust from before, not moving his body away even an inch from yours. He kept rolling his hips into you in a slow pace, pushing in deep and hard rather than fast.
Your whole body was pushed hard against the pillows in front of you every time he rocked into you, every thrust eliciting a low moan from you. You let your head fall back against him, leaning the side of your face against his. “Fuck, feel so good around me”, he groaned right by your ear, his warm breath hitting your skin.
He kept the slow and hard pace for a while, only moving faster when you pushed back against him, needing to feel more of him. You gasped with every quickening breath, the ache in your stomach was growing again. “'m close”, you breathed out, your hand tightening the hold on his.
With his nose he gently nudged your cheek. “You know what to do”, he said breathless.
You shook your head quickly, whining desperately. “No, no, no, nonono, please, need you to touch me. Please.”
“Aw, but you did so well earlier.” He planted a kiss to your jaw, then moved his lips to your ear and pulled your earlobe between his teeth, gently nibbling on it.
“Promised...Ah... Said 'yd touch me.. all I want...” You got quieter with every word, your voice high-pitched and shaky with need.
Spencer chuckled and leaned his forehead against your temple. “Mmh, I did, didn't I?” All you could do was nod, not trusting your voice any more. But there were no more words needed. He sneaked his free hand between you and the pillows to give you what you wanted, needed.
You hadn't expected to be this sensitive, but when his fingertips slid over your clit you jolted forward, crying out his name. “Fuck...” His chest rumbled with a deep laugh against your back and he pushed your body against the pile of pillows with his own to hold you in place. In sync with the quick flicks of his fingers, he picked up the pace he was thrusting into your pussy, his hips snapping against you faster and faster.
You tried to hold yourself up, leaning your forearms against the backrest, but your arms had gotten too weak so all you could do was hold onto it with your hands in a tight grip, taking what Spencer gave you; your head hung low and nothing more then moans left your lips.
When he felt you clench hard around him, Spencer groaned and leaned his temple against yours, his mouth near your ear. “Such a good girl, taking me so well”, he panted and increased the pressure on your clit; the praise did exactly what he had intended and it sent you over the edge, with a choked out cry your back arched against him and you came, your whole body shaking. He had been close before, but it took him by surprise when you pussy clenched so hard around him that you pulled him right with you, his dick twitching and he spilled himself into you.
Both of you collapsed against the back of the sofa, breathing hard, and you let out an uff when Spencer's weight got too much. “Sorry”, he said breathlessly and immediately pulled back; you hissed when he pulled out in the same move. He moved his arm around your torso and helped you holding yourself up. You tiredly grabbed pillow after pillow and just threw it blindly to the side to let them fall to the floor. The last one was a bit difficult to get out from under you, but after you got it out you moved it to the end of the couch.
You let your body fall into the cushions, ringing for air and with your eyes closed. Next to you, Spencer got up. You reached out to him, alarmed when you heard him stumble; he luckily had regained his balance before he fell over his own feet, but his knees were still a bit wobbly. “Are you okay?”, you asked, your lips stretching into a worried smile. He huffed out a laugh and took the hand you had reached out into his, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.
“Yeah, I'm good. Just wanted to get us some water.” He gave your fingers a gentle squeeze before he let go and bend down to get his boxer shorts to put them back on before he slowly walked into the kitchen. Not even a minute later he came back and handed you a glass of cold water, his own already half empty.
When you had finished your water he took your glasses and put them down on the coffee table. You lifted your arms and reached for him, beckoning for him to come back and lay down on the couch with you.
“Five minutes”, you said softly, a wide smile on your lips; you already knew Spencer was about to shoo you up and into the shower.
He huffed, but took your hand and joined you. You made him some space and rested your head on his chest as he wrapped his arms around you. You hummed content, nuzzling your face deeper into the crook of his neck, closing your eyes. After a short moment you mumbled: “Maybe ten minutes...”
Spencer just laughed and pulled you closer.
#cmkinkbingo2024#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#ghosts can write#💜 s.r.#--- mismatched🧦
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Popcorn | Alexia Putellas x reader
+18 minors please do not read it.
A/N: English is not my first language and i'm a newbie writing this type of content, sorry if is bad and for the mistakes.
(I just can't take out of my head Alexia's goal and celebration after seeing it only a couple of meters away from me, I need to write something for her. )
Alexia and you have been getting more and more close as the season went by. Now every week the two of you have at least one movie night to be able to spend time together. The both of you have been dancing around your feelings for months and after the constant teasing you had suffered from Patri and Pina, you decided that tonight you were going to act on your feelings and see how things go.
So as the both of you were watching a criminal documentary (Alexia’s favorite) you weren't paying much attention to, you tried to think of a way of telling Alexia your feelings and after 15 minutes of no ideas, one came to mind. Alexia was the most competitive person you have ever met, so you were going to see if she wanted to play along with you and have you as the final present.
So as Alexia picked a popcorn and went to put it in her mouth, you bowed a little and grabbed the popcorn with your teeth, snatching it from Alexia’s hand, she gave you one of her looks and you smiled at her as you went to go back to your position, when you felt Alexia's hand on the back of your neck, keeping you there and not letting you move.
“Do you want another one mi niña?” Her warm breath stroked your face.
A new popcorn landed on the blonde's lips, that time, you removed the popcorn with your tongue, with which you licked Alexia's lips. Alexia, at your action, breathed heavily and looked at your lips while licking her own.
"Another one?" Alexia asked with a grin on her face.
“Uhm..” you said cause you were thinking.
Did Alexia want to provoke you too? Well, if that’s the case two can play the game.
You nodded and Alexia placed another popcorn in her mouth, you grabbed it by joining your lips to Alexia's, you chewed the popcorn without separating your lips and, when you swallowed it, you took out your tongue and licked your lips, a gesture that included Alexia's lips too, who sighed.
"Did you want to eat your popcorn, my love?" you asked in a seductive voice.
“Only if you give them to me…”
“What do you think about eating the popcorn from my body?” You didn't know what you were doing, you were just getting carried away for the moment and hoping Alexia would play into it.
Alexia stared at you, a lot of thoughts going through her mind as you finished saying your proposal.
Is she serious or was she kidding you? Alexia didn’t know what to do, your relationship was not clear, you were friends and she didn’t want to make a mistake, she felt scared and she didn’t want to lose this relationship.
Alexia was silent and on her mind when you moved and stretched on the couch and lifted your shirt without discovering your breasts, only leaving your belly in the air, and taking a handful of the white popcorn Alexia was eating, you placed them carefully on your abdomen, spreading them.
Alexia got out of her mind and swallowed saliva as she looked at you with desire in her eyes but still with doubts and fear that could be sensed clearly by you just looking at her.
“Oh,” you said, making a pout as you sensed Alexia’s doubts. “Don't tell me you don't want to eat the popcorn anymore” You mused sitting down, causing all the popcorn to fall on the couch.
Alexia regained her composure and with her captain voice (the one that ignites you) says "Lie down again, now" and you obeyed her without resistance.
Alexia took a few popcorns and placed them again on your belly, scattering around each piece on your skin as soon as you lay down and stayed still.
You felt a warmth invade your body while Alexia was placing the popcorn on your skin, her touch made you dizzy. Were you drunk? No, you weren't. You were horny.
Alexia knelt in front of the couch and bowed her head to catch each popcorn with her mouth. You could feel her warm breath hitting you every time she repeated the action and you wished that she would not move that fast and touch you more.
As Alexia was touching you, you felt your abdomen tighten, your skin started tingling, and you had to force yourself to stay in the same position and not drop the popcorn that was left on your skin.
Alexia took her time and ate all the popcorn that was there, and you raised your head to look at her, then you saw how she bent down again and you had to swallow saliva when you saw that Alexia's mouth was very dangerously close to the waistband of your pants. Alexia then moved a little further down and buried her head between your slightly raised legs. You felt a strong heat forming between your legs.
“You shouldn't have gotten up before, now there's popcorn everywhere… eres una chica mala” Alexia complained playfully.
You sighed when the blonde bowed again, the shorts did not cover your legs much, therefore, you felt Alexia's hair caressing your skin, her lips colliding with your legs when she grabbed the popcorn that was left there.
"You can stop," you told her.
“But I'm hungry...-” Alexia complained with a pout on her face.
“Ale please…”
"I'm not going to get up until I eat every popcorn in your body," Alexia said, throwing a handful more popcorn at you.
You sighed heavily when Alexia's tongue ran down your belly, picking up the popcorn that was on you. You weren't very sure how it had happened, but your shirt had gone up more than you had lifted it up and now it showed something of your breasts, your shorts had the waistband down and Alexia's mouth went from the bottom up and vice versa every single time she ate a piece of popcorn.
You are having a really hard time breathing as you are trying not to moan. But how can you avoid it with those sensual caresses?
"Have you... are you done yet?" you asked. Why was your voice so hoarse?
Alexia looked up and looked at you smiling. You couldn't help but look at her mouth, she was so sensual and provocative after having gone through your entire belly several times.
“Uhm…” you noticed that Alexia was looking at your breasts and had to swallow saliva. If Alexia keeps her act up you would totally lose yourself. “It seems to me that there is a hidden popcorn here…”
You swallowed saliva when Alexia leaned over you, and her mouth grazed one of your breasts and you could feel how she took a deep breath, trying to control herself and put her nerves at bay.
"It seems to me that this piece doesn't want to go out," Alexia murmured. "But don’t worry I won't let it beat me."
You felt Alexia’s tongue licking near your nipple. Alexia stood on top of you, without touching you, she had a hand on each side of your body and she held herself with them. She lifted your shirt a little more while her tongue kept struggling with that popcorn that was hiding in that area.
"Take it now please, do something, take it now," You begged. Either Alexia would take her already or you would end up totally losing yourself.
Holy God. When had you come up with that stupid game, in which you had made yourself totally available to Alexia? If you got up, if you said that the game was over and you locked yourself in your room, that torture would end... but what a sweet torture it is.
The air caressed your erect nipples and you couldn't help but gasp when you felt the blonde's long hair caressing them as she moved.
"Ale, please," you said, desperately.
"I got it," Alexia whispered.
Why did you feel that that popcorn didn't exist? Alexia's nose stroked one of your breasts, slowly and gently, until she reached the top.
With your eyes wide open, although clouded by that rough desire, you watched her. You opened your mouth to try and say something but only a sweet moan escaped from your throat when Alexia's lips closed around one of your nipples. If you felt hot and wet before, now you feel like your whole body is burning with desire. Alexia had just lit a lustful fire inside you that was going to be difficult to extinguish. A liquid heat lodged in your crotch, wetting your panties. You twisted under Alexia and arched your back without being able to avoid it. Your breathing had been agitated and you didn't know how to control it.
“I want you so bad”. Alexia’s words made you stop thinking and you pushed all your fears away. Your mind, clouded by desire, tried to make you regain some control, but as you looked at Alexia as she kept licking your nipples, along with the pleasure you felt while she kept touching you, you could not do other things that gave into the pleasure.
“Alexia” you groaned when she stopped licking your nipple to go for the other” Ah...more,” you said so faintly, so sensual.
Alexia couldn't help but suck with more passion that mound so tasty that adorned the top of your chest. While with her mouth she was in charge of pampering one nipple, with her hand she dedicated herself to pinching the other.
Your restless hands caressed Alexia's soft and strong body under her shirt. You had to clench your fists so as not to direct your hands to the inside of Alexia's pants, you just had to insert your small hand under the elastic and she would find what you have longed for so long at that moment.
“Aahh” you gasped, arching your body completely and making both of your bodies come into contact. “Alexia” you moaned when you felt her pelvis against your own body.
Alexia's body fell on yours, crushing you slightly, you could feel your wet center pressed against hers. Alexia continued to take care of your breasts and she stirred her hair before going down on your back again. From top to bottom, until she reaches those pants again. Alexia put her fingers a little on your strip and reached for your panties, raised them a little, and caressed your skin before going up again.
The blonde stopped tasting her breasts to look at you. Your face was flushed, and your scarlet cheeks made Alexia feel even more desire for you. She needed to have you, she needed to kiss you. Those half-open lips cried out for millions of kisses.
"You're going to drive me crazy," said Alexia, licking her lips.
“Ale please…” you say softly.
“Tell me to stop now, mi niña, because if you don't do it, I won't…”
“Ale please don’t stop, I need you, I have been needing you for a while now”
As soon as you said those words Alexia covered your mouth with hers, she absorbed your lips before sliding her tongue and covering your whole mouth with it. You groaned as you responded to that kiss full of desire. Your body moved under Alexia's looking for her warmth.
"You need to stop me now if you don’t want this..." Alexia whispered, as she got rid of her shirt and then took off yours, leaving the both of you naked from the waist up.
You didn’t say anything, you looked at her and simply put your emotions so clearly in your face Alexia didn’t need your words to know what you needed and that you wanted for this to keep going. Alexia's lips covered yours again, before going down your neck and nibbling on your shoulder. Her lips continued to go down, stopping briefly on your breasts, she went down your belly until she reached the fabric of your pants. You moaned when Alexia lowered your pants and panties a little. You looked directly into her eyes as you raised your legs and Alexia took off your clothes.
You gasped when you felt Alexia's warm breath caressing your sex. One of the blonde's long fingers landed on your center.
“You're so wet” She murmured as she made her finger go up to caress your center. “So wet…” she repeated, “and everything for me…” She whispered against you when she reached your clitoris.
You had to bite your lip so as not to scream and have a neighbor complain.
Alexia's tongue went up and down throughout your sex, falling like a whip on your most sensitive button, before making circles around and going down until she reached your entrance and got wetter every second that passed. You moaned when Alexia began to lick your clitoris tirelessly while inserting a couple of fingers inside you. The gasps resonated between the four walls of the living room, the atmosphere was heated and you felt like you were burning. Alexia's mouth tortured you with pleasure and you twisted under it while you noticed the orgasm forming in your body.
“Alexia” you called her name as you raised your hips and pulled her hair, “Alexia..” you whispered as you moved impatiently.
You closed your eyes to the swell of pleasure that ran through your whole body and pulled the blonde's hair while you screamed begging for more. Your body, covered by a layer of sweat, moved nervously, you were begging to reach your release, but Alexia set the pace, withdrawing her playful tongue when she noticed you were about to burst, just to go slowly again and make you more and more desperate.
When you finally reached your orgasm, you shouted Alexia’s name, writhing with pleasure and clinging tightly to the cushions. Alexia continued her administration, lowering you from the cloud you were in and when you recovered, she went up on your body giving small kisses through your skin until she reached your mouth. Alexia kissed you softly, playing with your tongue. She separated herself from you to look at you intensely. your hair was scrambled and your eyes were closed, your cheeks were flushed and your lips half-open breathing heavily.
Alexia smiled and said, “You are beautiful.”
You smiled slightly and opened your eyes, finding Alexia’s face a few centimeters from yours.
"You're more," you replied as you grabbed the back of her neck and put your lips together again.
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hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!
Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)
Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein
description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.
content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference
word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)
/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/
Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.
You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.
You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.
"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.
You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.
"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"
You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.
"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.
"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.
"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.
"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."
You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.
"It's just my roommate-"
Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.
He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.
It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.
There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.
You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.
Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.
"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.
"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."
A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.
There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.
Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.
"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."
"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.
"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."
"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.
"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.
"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"
You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.
It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.
You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.
"Does that mean you're coming back here?"
"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."
A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.
He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.
So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.
Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.
Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?
But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.
A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,
"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,
"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.
"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.
The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.
The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"
"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"
You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.
Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.
He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,
"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"
Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.
And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.
"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.
"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."
"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.
"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."
"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.
"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."
He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.
He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.
"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.
The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand
"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)
"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.
Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.
He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.
If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.
Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.
A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)
You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.
/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/
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Detention
My English teacher just absolutely embarassed me in fornt of the whole class. Not the whole class, cause Joe and Chris are not here, but still. But I am glad they didn't see it. They would have made my life a living hell and called me names, but so would I.
The three of us have been friends since our mothers met on a playground one day. We have been inseperable. Sometimes literally. We even used super glue to never be away from each other. Yeah we went to the ER that night. But we all still laughed like crazy everytime we did pranks like this. We loved to do pranks on other people, but over the time we got bored, they either knew us and our pranks already or they didn't react enough to let us have the final laugh worth having.
That's why we started doing pranks on each other. It was quite brutal sometimes, like the last two prank I did on both of them, but you know, that's the game. We always want to be better than the other.
Back to present
My teacher, Mr. Lionel, called me in front of the whole class and forced me to sing. He said that I can sing Baby by Justin Bieber, cause he remembers that I once wrote that in one of my essays to be my favourite song. WHAT? I would never write that. That's one of my worst nightmares. Of course the whole class laughed.
Then the principal called out through the school radio, that my mom called and brought me new underwear, cause she knows how much I have trouble holding it in.
"That's BULLSHIT!" I yelled out during the class. The stranges thing was that Mr. Lionel didn't scold me right away as he always would, but kept on laughing. He then looked at the class and understood should have acted sooner.
"All right, Mr. Donovan. Principal's office, right now." he handed me the note for the principal and I left.
I was curious as always and took a peek. It said "For being a naughty boy. Deserves spanking. P.S. everything going according to plan so far"
What kind of a language is this. Why would Mr. Lionel write this? Is this how they always talk about us? Cause this is disturbing. I entered the office. The principal smiled at me from ear to ear. He let me sit down and immediately stood up above me
"So what was it this time, Mr. Donovan?"
"I... reacted on what you said about me in the radio. I said something I shouldn't have."
"Well. That is unfortunate. I might have bad news in that matter I am afraid that might make the situation worse. I have to inform you that we have been searching lockers of students for unwanted drugs and yours contained 5 great bags of weed. Therefore I am going to contact your parents and make you leave our school. Detention is definitely not in order. You have to understand that we don't want anyone to carry drugs to our school."
"But principal, that's not mine. I would have never done that. I have never even used it nor would I ever sell it. It must have been only some kind of prank by my friends."
"Are you trying to say we should expell them?"
"No... of course not. It's just not mine and I don't want to be expelled. Please. I'll do anything."
"Anything you say? he said and rearranged his balls in his pants
"NO FUCKING WAY IS THIS HAPPENING. I HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE" I started panicking
"Do not worry Mr. Donovan. There is no need to panic. Mr. Lionel is coming now and we will think how to make a proper punishment for you."
We sat in silence, I would bet anything that he was still rubbing himself under the desk. I am not gonna get raped by some old perv today. Even if I would have to stab him in the eye with his pen
Suddenly the door opened. Mr. Lionel came in. The two of them still sat in silence. Then the principal said:"Ok, Mr. Lionel. Show our student here, what he's missing"
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Mr. Lionel took of his shirt and started flexing at us. I had to admit that he was very good looking, but the thought that the principal was still observing me was horrible. I needed to get out.
"So, Billy. Wanna touch me? I'll let you pass"
"Sir, this is... I... NO! I won't do any of this. Leave me the fuck alone both of you, you two creeps!" I got to the door, but found out that Mr. Lionel locked it when he entered.
They looked at themsleves. And then started laughing histerically
Prinicpal:"It's just a prank, bro!"
Me:"What?!"
Mr. Lionel:"Dude, you were so scared. I bet you really do need the underwear now. Must be all wet haha"
Principal:"You still don't get it right, bro?"
Me:"Get what?"
Mr. Lionel:"Dude, it's us. Joe and Chris. And we PRANKED youuu!"
I couldn't believe it. But it was the only thing that made sense
Me:"Wait, how did you? Am I dreaming? Is it really happening?"
Chris (principal):"Yeah it's real bro. We went to the town to find something for our new prank to get revenge on you and we found this talisman in an old shop. And we swapped bodies. We found out that we can swap as many times we want. And then we came up with a plan to prank you. We even planned to embarass you even more, but it would be too cruel."
Me:"Guys, what the fuck? You made me believe that my principal was about to... That was it. We're done with the pranks. No more pranking each other ok? No more revenge pranking. Anything"
Joe (Mr. Lionel):"Ok, dude. Sorry. But you gotta admit it was a great prank, haha"
Me:"Yeah, I believed it."
Chris (Prinicipal):"Guys, are you done brushing your vaginas? I need to get out of this old body like right now. It's horrible to feel this old, dry, weak."
Me:"So, we can swap with anybody, right?"
Chris:"Yeah, got anyone in mind?"
Me:"My brother got back home from college few days ago and his two friends are crashing at ours. They're kinda hot."
Chris:"Great, but you'll have to lure them out"
We stood in front of the mirror in our new college bodies. Admiring each other, flexing, enjoy the muscles, the facil hair of each other
Me:"By the way, where are your original bodies?"
Joe:"Oh, we stashed them in the school. They are tied up so there should be no problem there"
Me:"You know you're gonna have to let them go eventually?"
Chris:"But not right now. Guys, let's see whose dick is bigger!"
Story in inbox:
Hi i loooooove your story so much🥰
Could u write a story about two guys swapping body with their principal and teacher to teach their friend a lesson 🍆🍆🍆
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That's Not the Plan - Astarion x F!Tav
Inspiration: The moment Astarion’s plan fell apart was when you resurrected him after you triggered that damn weapon at the Githyanki Creche.
“…you think to yourself that you would follow this woman through the nine hells and back again”
Written from Astarion’s perspective, this is with the same Tav from my series "The Change" but this is a little one-shot looking into their relationship before the confession in Moonrise. I may do a few more one-shots like this as I have many little stories in my head about these two. I use “Tav” as her name and not her given name (by me) in the hopes it helps the reader to add their name etc.
Warnings: Language, fluff, sex, hand stuff, mouth stuff, PiV, smutty. Let me know if I have missed anything.
MINORS DNI
1,722 words
Probably got a little carried away, I apologise now. Writing smutty stuff is still relatively new to me.
Setting: After Tav blows up the creche by being a greedy little loot goblin, she talks to Withers and resurrects Astarion. This is also before you go to the shadow-cursed lands.
You can also read another one shot here as it happens after the story below (but again before the Moonrise confession scene).
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“Rise," you hear Withers' voice reverberating around you, and suddenly, in a flash of teal light, you appear back in the land of the living. You steady yourself on your feet and take in your surroundings. It seems you are back at camp, and everyone is going about their business as usual. Everyone, except her. She stands in front of you, attempting to hide her obvious nervousness as she shifts her weight from foot to foot.
She should be nervous, everyone warned her not to touch the ominous floating weapon, but noooo the little loot goblin couldn’t keep her greedy hands to herself, “It’ll be fine” she said. Well it certainly wasn’t fine seeing as it set off a very powerful weapon totaling the whole Githyanki Creche and taking you along with it. Your frustration bubbles over.
“What in the sweet hells were you thinking activating that lance? I was RIGHT THERE! Gods, do you have any idea how much that hurt?” You stand with your arms folded, gazing at her, curious about what she will say.
“I thought the mind flayer parasite protects you from light?” Her lips twitch at the corners trying to stop herself from smiling. Smiling?? Is she smiling??
“Well, apparently there’s a limit. Somewhere between a nice summer’s day and the full concentrated power OF THE SUN!.” You pause and take a deep breath.
“I’m sorry, I’ll be more careful next time.” She winks at you and you can’t believe the audacity of this woman. A moment ago she seemed nervous, but now look at her, as cocky as ever!
“Next time? No no no, if there is a ‘Next time’ I’ll be the one aiming the all-powerful weapon, thank you!” Your voice sounds as if you’re a mother scolding her toddler for touching the fire and her face looks like said toddler. “Although… I do appreciate you trying to fix your mistake. Just don’t do it again. Now, shall we go or do you have any other chaos you need to unleash here?” You dust off your pants dramatically. All activity in the camp came to a halt as every eye was fixed on the intense drama playing out between the two of you.
You continue; “Oh and another thing I- .” She interrupts you, grabs your shirt, and plants a passionate kiss on your lips.
As she releases you her expression is calm and confident. “Astarion, as much as I enjoy listening to you talk, there are other things I'd rather watch you do with your mouth.” She turns on her heel and heads to her tent, stopping half way she calls over her shoulder; “Well are you coming or not?” And proceeds to enter her sleeping quarters.
The camp is silent as all eyes are on you, Gale’s jaw is practically on the floor at the public display. You and Tav have been very good at hiding your late-night trysts so this may have come as a surprise to a few of them.
Clearing your throat you look around to your travel companions repeating her words in disbelief “Hah… ‘are you coming or not?’ Haha… hah…"
As if your legs have grown a mind of their own you find yourself walking to her tent, your hand scratching the back of your head as you think to yourself that you would follow this woman through the nine hells and back again.
Shit. That’s not the plan. Focus.
Pulling back the opening of the tent you slip in quietly and see her laying down on her stomach flipping through the pages of a book. She pauses and rolls over leaning on her arms and takes one look at you that sends her into a fit of laughter.
“You look bewildered Astarion!” She says as she rises and saunters over to you placing her hands on your chest. Petrichor and cinnamon… she smells of petrichor and cinnamon… cool and fresh but warm and homey at the same time. You swallow as you look into her eyes and you swear you feel your hands tremble. What is wrong with me? You think to yourself. Her hands glide up from your chest and lace themselves between the curls of your hair. Her fingers begin to slowly massage your scalp and a small groan escapes your mouth.
“Let me make it up to you?” She stands on her tiptoes and whispers in your ear, you feel your body turn to liquid at the feel of her breath in your ear.
You watch her slowly drop down to her knees and you instantly harden at the sight of her. Never has anyone had this effect on you. All you can do is give her a slight nod in consent as she waits patiently for your reply.
Slowly she brings your trousers down and your length springs free. A small almost timid smile appears on her lips as her hand grips your member. The touch of her skin sends electricity surging through you as she slowly drags her palm up and down its length. You groan again in appreciation and your breath catches as you feel her wet, hot mouth envelop your already seeping tip.
Never… has anyone put your pleasure first above theirs. Never has anyone wanted to make you feel good, it was always what others could take from you and there were moments where you thought this arrangement between the two of you was the same. However, you see now that this is different. You realise that it was always different with her, you just didn't want to admit that to yourself.
You glance down and watch as her head moves slowly up and down your throbbing length and groan loudly as you rest your hand on the top of her head, moving your fingers into her hair. You begin to rock your hips in time with her movement and hear a soft moan rumble from her. The sound sets you on fire, tipping you over the edge spilling into her mouth, your hips twitching as she licks the last of your spend and looks up sweetly.
She stands up and puts her arms around you, scattering soft kisses along your jawline. Your hands slither their way down her body and wrap themselves around her ass pulling her up into you as you passionately kiss her, parting her mouth for your tongue to meet hers.
“Astarion… you don’t need to… I wanted to make you feel good” she says breathlessly which fuels your desire even more, you need to hear your name screamed from her lips. You want everyone to know she’s yours because she is… at least to you.
“Oh I know. But I want to. I want to taste you, I want to hear you scream my name, I want them to hear my name cried out from your lips.” You lower her down to the bedroll.
You waste no time stripping her clothes, kneeling above her your gaze swims over her naked body, no artist could ever capture its beauty. Dipping down you grip her legs and throw them over your shoulders and you see her dripping with anticipation. “Gods…” you breathe out before taking the plunge, your tongue pushing through her slick folds, she tastes of honey and a fine wine, aged to perfection. Her breaths are loud, her moans increasing in volume as she comes closer to the edge. Your tongue increases its speed as you circle it on her bundle of nerves and her hands shoot down gripping your hair as she comes undone, her hips bucking as she cries out your name.
You crawl up her body and crash your lips into hers, hungrily moving them together. “I do rather like that, you know? Hearing you scream out my name… Tell me what you want.” Your breath is cool in her ear as you whisper and you can feel the shivers forming on her skin.
“You.. I.. want you” she breathes into your neck.
“As you wish.” Once more your lips mould against hers, your tongues tangling together in a passionate dance as you slide your hardened length into her. She is intoxicating. You slowly rock your hips back and forth savouring the feel of her around you as your mouth closes around the sensitive peak of her breast.
You feel her hand slowly cupping your cheek as she pulls your face to her neck tilting her head to the side. “Drink.” She commands and you gladly obey.
Your teeth fit into the same spot they always do and you hear her groan in pleasure as you take your first pull of her blood. Your thrusts pick up in pace and you place your hand between her legs again circling her clit. Her body trembles as her moans grow louder once more and then she shatters around you, crying out your name and you come undone at the sound, returning her name in a cry of your own.
You lay there breathless staring at the ceiling of the tent while she curled herself over you, running lazy circles on your chest with her fingers. You had a plan, a nice simple plan… and now… it is so much more than that. You would follow her anywhere… you would do anything to make her happy and that terrifies you.
Shit.
#baldur's gate iii#astarion#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate astarion#bg3 tav#astarion ancunin#astarion x tav#astarion x reader#astarion fanfic#astarion fanfiction#astarion fluff#astarion smut#astarion x you#astarion fic#bg3 fanfic#bg3 fanfiction#bg3 fic#bg3 fluff#bg3 fandom
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Overconfidence
Minors and Ageless Blogs, Do Not Interact! This Blog & Subsequent Content Is Not For You!!
TW: Drowning/Death
This is a small little fic that I wrote for @ghouljams writing challenge: "King Killer". The prompt I used was number 16. and I suppose we can also say this falls under number 53 too.
I also didn't even try to write him speaking German, because this isn't going to be long anyways.
König was determined to impress you.
You were a mere civilian, but he wholeheartedly thought you would be perfect for him. He saw you and knew he had to have you, convinced you two were soulmates.
The thing was, you weren't impressed by him. At all. You weren't impressed with his height, the way he wore a sniper hood to cover his face, the fact that he was groveling at your feet like a dog begging for scraps. You weren't even impressed with his Austrian accent.
You definitely weren't impressed by the way his nickname was König, German for "king".
Nevertheless, König was sure demonstrating a big feat would impress you, endear you to him.
Which is how you got to standing outside, in front of a lake. König was standing in front of you, telling you he could walk on water.
You quirked an eyebrow at that, an expression of boredom clear on your face. "You can walk on water? Seriously, König." You wrapped your arms around yourself, cursing the fact that you didn't bring a jacket when he dragged you out of your home. "Come on, it's chilly and this is foolish. Let me just go back home already."
"No, no. You can't go," König said, determined to make you suffer through this just to impress you. "I can walk on water and I will prove it to you. Right now. I'm going to walk on that lake."
"You want to impress me, don't you?" you asked, a sly smile finding its way onto your face as he nodded. You then crossed your arms, looking up at him. "Alright, but I'll only accept it if you keep on your tactical gear."
It was one of the things that failed to impress you; the way König always kept on his tactical gear despite being around civilians and not even able to carry around any weapons. And you just knew that tactical gear had to be heavy, so you were hoping to call his bluff and have him relent on his exaggeration.
However, König didn't relent and admit he couldn't walk on water. He thought of it as a better chance to impress you.
König nodded, as if you had made the best suggestion ever. "Ah, of course. Wearing my tactical gear would be the perfect way to show you that I can in fact walk on water!"
So you watched, as he kept his tactical gear and his boots on and waded into the lake. You kept waiting for him to turn back, or God forbid he actually did walk on water, but neither came.
König, despite the fact that he was wading deeper into the water and not walking on the water, kept going. Eventually, he got out deep enough where he was convinced he was going to walk on the water and he stopped kicking his legs to stay upright.
He told you he was going to rise to the top and stand on the surface, but instead the heaviness of his tactical gear and his own sheer body weight caused him to start sinking deeper and deeper.
You knew he wasn't going to listen to you telling him to come back, so you just watched him sink until his head was fully underwater and you waited for him to resurface. And waited. And waited.
You waited for a good ten minutes, waiting to see that gigantic head of his break through to the surface of the water. But it never came. He stayed under the water and you just accepted it.
You shrugged. "At least he won't be bothering me anymore," you said, nodding to yourself in happiness at the thought.
You turned away, finally able to head back home and into your nice cozy house. You were freezing.
Separator made by @une-femme-de-lettres
#könig mw2#könig cod#könig call of duty#könig x reader#könig x you#gender neutral reader#x gender neutral reader#gn reader#call of duty#cod modern warefare 2#cod mwii#cod mw2#cod#writing challenge#tw death#tw drowning#tw major character death#the thing that made this funny was reader's indifference to könig#hope you like it#:)
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Father's Day - Stories of the Shaw Pack
Characters: Kid David & Gabe
CW: Is angsty at the end, due to David mourning.
Written in May 2024
Summary: 8 year old David could not go back to sleep, too excited to give his dad his presents for Father's Day.
Can be found ✨here on Ao3✨, written by moi (cyan_bug37 on Ao3)
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David was awake at almost five in the morning and was bouncing with energy to start the day. Today was Father’s Day, and he really wanted to give his dad his gifts. He had made a card during school, which had a picture of two wolves and a heart, and bubble letters that spell out Happy Father’s Day. And then there was the actual present.
His hand clasped around the small red keychain accessory that read “My Favorite Dad” with a heart at the end. He had bought it from the school store, with tables lined up with random goodies or trinkets, it had been a hard time choosing what to buy in such a short amount of time.
He was hoping that those two things were enough to show his love. But maybe he needed to give his dad something more?
He set his presents back down, and lightly padded down to the kitchen with a new plan. He grabbed out his dad’s favorite cereal and then hopped up onto the counter.
BANG. David froze, the loud noise echoing in the quiet house, and listened to see if his dad had heard him accidentally kicking one of the lower drawers. His dad would have definitely come bolting downstairs if he had.
David breathed out a sigh of relief, and continued his task.
With the bowl now acquired, he shook the cereal into it and then wobbly poured the milk too.
He carried the bowl and climbed the stairs, grabbing both of his gifts from his bedroom before making his way to his dad’s room.
David gently pushed the door open, hands steadying the bowl to make sure no contents spilled. He crept over to the bedside, placing the bowl on the nightstand, and examined his dad’s face. Yep. Definitely still asleep. He tapped Gabe’s shoulder a few times, his dad taking a sharp inhale of breath before opening his eyes.
“David? What are you doing up?” Gabe stuffily asked, and rubbed his face. “It’s 5 a.m. You should be asleep.”
“It’s Father’s Day,” David happily said, ignoring the fact that it was still super early. His father wasn’t too surprised, considering that David had been going through another bout of not wanting to sleep. Whether that meant David staying up late, or his son waking up way before sunrise.
Gabe muttered, “I’d argue that is exactly why we should both still be asleep, but that’s alright,” before flicking on the bedside lamp, the sun not having come up enough to brighten the room fully.
His eyes landed on the cereal bowl, and then the fact that David held a card and something else in his hand. “What do you got there?”
“A present and a card. Here,” He held out the card to him, and the keychain accessory.
Gabe gently took both of them and read the card, smiling at the picture on the front and seeing all the hearts that covered the inside of the card. Though the message written inside was generic, and most likely what his teachers had told them to write, he could tell that David put a lot of love into it.
He then examined the red keychain accessory that could wrap around your wrist. His eyes flicked back to David’s.
“I’m your favorite dad?” Gabe raised an eyebrow, a small smirk on his face.
David nodded.
Gabe chuckled, wrapping an arm around his son. “I would hope so– I’m your only dad, bud!” David giggled along and fully wrapped himself around his dad. He tucked his head further into his dad’s neck. Safe. Home.
Gabe broke away from the hug after a moment, and petted David’s hair backwards. “I see you brought cereal as well.”
“Your breakfast in bed!” David peeled himself away and grabbed the bowl to hand over.
Gabe’s heart warmed. “Did you come up with that idea by yourself?”
Once Gabe grabbed the bowl, David moved around to the other side of the bed, hopping next to his dad. “Sort of. One of my classmates said that their parents do it for each other.”
Gabe took a bite of the now slightly soggy cereal, and hummed. “Thank you very much. I must be doing something right for you to be such a thoughtful kiddo.” David shrugged and relaxed against the headboard, taking the praise to heart. . .
- - -
He froze after opening the box. It was a small box full of cards, all of the ones that David had made over the years. . . And that Father’s Day card was on top.
His heart lurched in his throat as he stared and picked up the flimsy, folded paper. The feeling settled back down to an ache in his stomach, tears gathering, just waiting for him to blink so it could kick off another crying session.
He closed his eyes tightly and felt his lip trembling again, and pursed his lips. I can’t cry. I have to focus on cleaning out stuff. I–
David could have wailed if he wanted, but covered his mouth to prevent any sound to escape his body, even though nobody was in the home. His nose could barely get any air in or out, and he had broken out into a sweat. He kneeled to the floor, his whole weight sat on his legs, as his face became sticky and wet with snot and tears.
I miss you so fucking, goddamn much, Dad. I hope you know how much I love you, wherever you are now. . . I love you so so so fucking much. . .
His vision blurred with the seemingly continuous tears, and his body shook as he curled in on himself and repeated in his mind: It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair. Why couldn’t he have stayed?! It isn’t fair. It isn’t fair!
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As always, I have no ownership or rights to these characters, stories, or franchises. I write this to appreciate the content Redacted ASMR/audio makes. Anything I write is not official in their stories, other than using moments from the original story line. I make no profit from this.
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Simon’s Caretaker
Warnings: talk of alcohol and drinking.
Pairings: Some of TF141 x reader
“Oh come on darling, come hang out with us!”
You look at the two big military men sitting on the couch in front of you. “I don’t like going to bars Simon, you know this.” You look at him and he basically has his puppy dog eyes begging you to come with him. “Oh one time won’t hurt. Right Johnny?” “Right!” Johnny says looking up at you from the couch. “I said no now go have a boys night and call me if you need anything.” You smile at them as they get up from the couch. “Bye!” They both say goodbye back in unison and walk out the front door.
You head to bed and put your phones volume all the way up just incase you get a call from them while they are out. A couple hours go by and you wake up to multiple dings from your phone. “What the fuck?” You turn on your phone to see you were invited to a mass group text between you and all the guys on the task force. You start reading the messages and then you get a call from Johnny. “Hello?” “Hey bestieee!” Johnny slurs over the phone. “Hey look you have to come pick us up things got a little bit wilddd and Price and Gaz joined us and now Simons throwing up cause he drank too much and none of us can drive safely right now sooo you have to come get us” He says over the phone trying to use his charm so you say yes.
“Dammit Johnny. What bar are yall at?” You say rubbing your eyes while trying to find a pair of shoes to throw on. “Oh you know the usual. Simon im on the phone with Y/N!” “Okay ill be there give me like 15-20 minutes.” You grab your keys and head out of the house. “Okay thank youuu!” He hangs up the phone and you put yours down and start driving over to the bar. You get there in like 15 minutes and everyones outside. Johnny and Price are kind of holding up Simon to lead him into the back seat of the car. They get him in and sit on both sides of him. Gaz gets in the pssenger seat and you start the car back up.
“Simon you okay?” You ask looking back in your review mirror. He gives you a thumbs up and you look back at Johnny and roll your eyes.
“Thank you for coming to the rescue again Y/N. Johnny says. “No problem guys.”
You take Price and Gaz home and start driving back to the house you share with Simon. “Johnny do you mind staying the night so you can help me get him into bed” You laugh looking back in the review mirror and seeing Simon curled up in the backseat asleep. “Yeah I dont mind” Johnny looks at you and laughs. Yall get back to the house and open up the car door.
“Comeon big man” Johnny says as he tries to pull Simon out of the car by his arm. Simon wakes up and stumbles out of the car. “Heyyy loveee” Simon looks at you and smirks. You smile and unlock the door while Johnny is basically carrying Simon at this point. Everyone heads inside and you lead Simon to the bed and help him lay down. “Thank you Johnny for helping I would not have been able to do that myself how much did yall drink anyways?” “Only likeeee a beer n a half” Simon slurs. Johnny bursts out laughing “maybe like a bottle and a half for you alone!”
“Seems about right.” You laugh and go into the kitchen to get a glass of water and a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich for simon. “Johnny feel free to eat whatever you want im gonna go lay down and try to make him eat this.” You walk back into the bedroom and hand Simon the sandwhich and glass of water. “Here eat” He takes a couple sips of water and a couple bites of the sandwhich before handing both back to you and passing out for the night. “And this is why I dont like going to bars” you fijish the rest of the sandwhich but put the water on the nightstand along with some medicine for his hangover in the morning. You lay down and wrap your arms around him before going to sleep yourself.
A/N: I have no internet right now so Ive been bored outta my mind just writing away. (I skimmed over this at like 5am so if there is any errors im sorry lol)
#cod#cod fanfic#cod mw3#cod x reader#call of duty#cod modern warfare#ghost cod#simon riley x reader#cod fic
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oh my god dude. sorry i'm gonna have a homestuck interlude to classpect qpac and his role in the narrative because i'm thinking about him
he's. SO Page of Hope coded. he's so page of hope fr. his class being a Page makes so much sense because throughout homestuck, every single Page are all people pleasers. they're walking doormats who rarely stand up for themselves. they feel like they can't do anything right, so they sit down and shut up half the time so they don't do anything wrong. and his aspect being Hope makes so much sense because like. Hope is about optimism and doing right for right's sake and helping those who are down. he holds optimism as his greatest shield even when things are crumbling around him. it's so important to him!!!!
but also being a Page means that he lacks his aspect in a way, and his journey will be long and arduous before he can see the fruits of his labour, and when his efforts pay off, MAN it will pay off. there are so many times when he has just seemed to have completely given up hope. he's been broken down again and again and again and you can see the peak of that during the risus pills arc, when he was so out of it he was actively suicidal. but somehow he keeps bouncing back!!! he found the cure anyway, he left it for Cellbit, the guy he's terrified of, and he saved himself and Forever. he will step between something that scares him and something he wants to protect even as he cries and shakes and sniffles the whole time.
the thing about Pages is that it takes a long time for them to reach their full potential, and there will be so many bumps in the road before he even comes close. but when a Page finds that potential, they can be one of the most helpful, powerful, and dangerous members of their session. Pac is an extremely useful member of the server, he's extremely skilled, he just doesn't see it, and he can't reach his full potential as a Page until he can recognize his own accomplishments. the only problem is that when Pages reach their full potential, they have a tendency of dying right away. when Jake faces Aranea in Game Over, when Tavros stands up to Vriska, they both die almost immediately.
Pac and Jake "yes and" everything because they don't want to be a burden, and Pac and Tavros don't know how to face the people who traumatized them. the inaction of Jake and Tavros is what ultimately leads to their deaths at the hands of the Light players who hurt and manipulated them. (coincidentally, i also see Cellbit as a Light player, a Prince or Bard of Light, but that's for another post!!!) Tavros didn't stand up to Vriska sooner, Jake couldn't say no to Aranea, and Pac folds as soon as Cellbit, one of his greatest fears, is in front of him with a knife.
Tavros and Jake forgive people who hurt them no matter what they've done. Pac has faced his own Light Player and died multiple times at his hands in both Purgatories, and now after a brief interrupted apology, they're supposedly just fine. Cellbit doesn't mean to be, but he is Pac's own personal Serket.
the difference with Pac though is that he is like if Jake or Tavros got a well-rounded continuation to their character arcs. his story isn't done!! it's still going!! he's getting there!!! he's getting more confident, he has support from the people around him, and i think eventually he can break this doomed-by-the-narrative cycle that fully fledged Pages seem to have.
#qsmp#mcyt classpects#sorry. i got carried away. u know how it is with classpect brainrot i'm sure <3#so sorry for putting homestuck shit in the tag bro (<<is not sorry whatsoever)#i get very carried away with classpect analysis i just think about it way too much#rotating classpects in my head all the time always#anyway. it's bedtime. buenas noches <3#edited bc i had things to add GIRL I WASN'T DONE!!!!!#of course part of the doomed by the narrative themes pages have is a result of hussie's biased writing against jake and tavros#but in a meta sense it also applies to qpac because ccpac loves making his cubito suffer <3
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The sun, the stars and everything in between
My gift for @fructidors for the @drinkwithme-exchange ! I chose to write for Enjolras and Jehan, with maybe a bit of Triumvirate and Jehan/Grantaire friendship because I couldn't resist. I hope you enjoy !
Find it on ao3 or read below for those who prefer tumblr
1826
It was not that Enjolras distrusted rich people. He just couldn't stand them, and would rather forget that he was one himself.
So naturally when Combeferre pointed out to him a student he had met at la Sorbonne, who seemingly had no trouble with paying the monthly fee asked of him by the school, he couldn't help but at first consider him with the usual level of scorn he felt when looking at anyone coming from the higher classes.
He was soon to be proven wrong, however, for the young man turned out to be everything but what Enjolras expected.
His hair was longer than what was socially considered conventional, he spent hours looking at anything and everything with a thoughtful look on his face and seemed to be taking more interest in the sky than in the world of men. Enjolras immediately had him pinned down as a Romantic- which wasn't necessarily a good thing, since he couldn't help but feel irritated toward people who, in his eyes, spend their lives contemplating the world in melancholy but doing nothing to change it.
What really caught Enjolras's attention, however, was when he overheard the Romantic talk to a group of other students in a café often used as a gathering point by- well, young students. It sounded more like he was delivering a poem than properly talking, actually, seeing how smoothly the words were coming out of his mouth. And those words were explaining the misery of the world- and of orphans. From what Enjolras could hear, the young man was deeply affected by the fate of orphans in Paris, and seemed more than willing to act about it.
After that, Enjolras felt more than willing to talk to the redhead, even though Combeferre had been begging to introduce them for weeks. It actually seemed surprisingly easy to approach him- maybe it was the way he always looked at everything with a dreamy look on his face, or maybe it was the way Enjolras sometimes found his eyes fixed on him at gatherings, as if he was studying Enjolras or looking for something specific in him. The point was, he seemed nice. And maybe easy to talk to. Maybe that was why Enjolras found himself walking toward the young man's table at the café, forgetting he usually had no idea how to start conversations.
"I liked what you said earlier," he said bluntly. As the other looked up at him in surprise, he felt the need to elaborate : "your poem, about the night and, um, orphans. I really enjoyed listening to it."
"Well, thank you. If is not my best, but I was kind of proud of it, so I figured… why not share it with the class ?"
He had an awkward smile, much to Enjolras's surprise- for some reason he had expected him to be very laid back, like Courfeyrac, another one of his friends, but it turned out the redhead was about as talented as Enjolras to start a conversation in a decent way.
After a rather awkward moment Enjoras was wondering what he was supposed to say next and silently cursing himself for trying to start a conversation without Courfeyrac there, the poet held out his left hand for the blonde to shake, while his right one was busy trying to extract what looked like an old smoking-pipe from his pocket. He had to take out various items, including three rocks of various shapes and what seemed to be peacock feathers (Enjolras decided not to ask) before he found what he was looking for and could focus back on Enjolras.
"Jehan Prouvaire, at your service. Does it bother you if I smoke ?"
"Not at all" answered Enjolras, somewhat amused by the manners of the young man. "Jehan, huh ?"
The other waved aside with a nonchalant look. "Mere fantasy of a poet. You can call me Jean, or even Prouvaire if you like. Do you happen to have a name, or am I expected to find one for you ? Because I have multiple ideas that would quite suit you. Did you ever consider-"
Enjolras thought it wiser to interrupt him there. Not that he disliked listening to the other man, who actually had a very soft and pleasant voice, but he was afraid of the kind of nickname the eccentric redhead thought would fit him.
"That will be quite unnecessary. I am Enjolras." He said, finally reaching out for Prouvaire's hand. "I am glad to make your acquaintance… citizen."
The last word had escaped his mouth after a second of hesitation, carefully watching Prouvaire's face for his reaction. He was not, however, expecting the small laugh that came out of his lips.
"I am only amused by your carefulness. Do I look much like a royalist to you ?"
Enjolras felt the pressure on his stomach untighten. He had witnessed the unconventional behavior of the young man and heard the way he talked of the world around him, and he actually would have been very surprised if such a man turned out to be anything but a supporter of freedom- but again, one never knew. For the first time he found himself smiling genuinely at him.
"Not really. And I shall admit, I am rather happy you aren't. I would have been very disappointed to find out I was wrong about you."
"I shall be happy to have proven you right, then," the poet, who at this point was surrounded by a cloud of smoke, answered with a mocking reverence.
***
1828
He didn't know exactly what Prouvaire was doing here. Despite openly having political opinions that answered more or less those of Enjolras, the poet had never struck him as what he would call a fierce revolutionary. Not that Enjolras was unhappy to discover he had misjudged him, he was always more than content when a new friend joined their group. It was just that he suspected the poet of dropping by the café only to try and meet people who were as interested as him in studying in detail a play of Corneille, the appearance of a new constellation or the shape of the clouds.
While Enjolras was wrong in that the poet was indeed one of the most helpful members, and certainly the one that cared most about doing everything he could to help others, it was true that Jehan wasn't helping by always choosing to sit near one of the newest members of the group, whose only purpose in life seemed to be to empty as many bottles of wine as it was humanly possible.
As a matter of fact, when Enjolras happened to overhear one of the conversations taking place at the table in the corner, the two men always seemed to be talking of any imaginable subject except for the revolution.
"... must have been nice to be one of those gods living on Mount Olympus", Grantaire was currently saying. "To spend your days to eat, drink and contemplate the world- what more could one possibly ask of life ?"
Prouvaire reflected thoughtfully : "The greek gods, huh ? I have always found it quite nice that Apollo was for them not only the god of the sun, but also the god of music. After all, isn't music a way to bring light and warmth in our lives ?"
"What I like about those gods is that they seem to live on, even today, in some of us. For me, I guess I shall be Dionysus, for obvious reasons." Grantaire gestured vaguely at his body, as the poet threw him an amused look. "You can be Apollo if that pleases you- would it only be because you are such a strong defender of poetry in our world, and you can play the lyre."
"The harp, actually," Jehan interrupted him with an offended tone, "and I am surprised the comparison did not arise from my ability to brighten your life a considerable amount."
Grantaire made a disdainful gesture while rolling his eyes to the sky.
"The harp, the lyre… same difference to me. If I touched either one, all I would get out of them would be an atrocity that would so gravely offend one of your music gods that they would probably-"
He stopped abruptly when he noticed that Enjolras had left Combeferre and Courfeyrac to argue on their own on the other side of the room and was making his way toward them.
"I should probably leave now" Grantaire muttered, and before his friend could stop him he had grabbed his coat and made his way through the (extremely) crowded room to the door.
He had probably sensed that Enjolras was not in a mood to be nice with him- and he had been right, since as soon as the blonde reached the table where Jehan was left alone, seemingly wondering whether or not he should run after Grantaire, his first words were : "Do you ever wonder why the man even bothers coming here- does he at least have fun annoying all of us with his meaningless talk ?"
The words probably came out way more rude than he intended to and he immediately felt guilty of it- Jehan hadn't really done anything to deserve this.
"You should give him more credit, you know" Prouvaire said absently, his eyes still fixated on the bottle his friend had left on the table without even bothering to finish it.
Enjolras turned to him, not even trying to mask his irritation. "What should I give him credit for ? Being here ? Those meetings are for serious matters. Everyone here genuinely cares about our revolution, about helping people, fighting for them. Everyone here believes in something better that keeps them going. Grantaire doesn't believe in anything, save maybe wine."
"Doesn't he ?" There was a thoughtful look on his face, as if he hadn't been expecting Enjolras to say that. "You know… sometimes I wonder."
Prouvaire got up, most likely to try and catch up with Grantaire, leaving Enjolras to wonder what he had been trying to say.
***
1830
Prouvaire was vaguely aware that he and Enjolras were the only people left in the café, and that all the others had left when it had started to get dark. He was also vaguely aware that his friend had been talking for a while, most likely about what the better place to build a barricade would be or Courfeyrac's latest idea to find ammunition- sometimes a few words reached his ears, such as "strategic area" and "take back their freedom".
But he was only vaguely paying attention to all of this, because he had spent his afternoon in the café doing what he did best- living in his own world and writing endlessly. For some reasons the ideas were flowing to his mind today, and he had covered countless sheets in scribbled words, unfinished verses and distracted doodles. But now he had been stuck on this verse for a while and did not like it.
At this moment he heard Enjolras clap his fingers and ask, in a voice that seemed worlds away from him : "Prouvaire, do you really find me this boring ?"
The sarcasm passed unnoticed as the poet, not looking up from the sheet in front of him and seeming incredibly focused on the quill in his hand, managed to let out enough words to communicate like a normal human being. .
"I think I need your help, actually." Paying absolutely no attention to his friend's sigh, he added : "Can you find a good synonym for "loyalty" ?"
Surprised at first, Enjolras's look was quick to soften and since he knew that it would be useless to try and blame Jehan, and was not even willing to, as he felt a kind of tenderness where the soft nature of the poet was concerned, he chose to be helpful and answer the question.
"Faithfulness ?" He suggested. "Devotion ?" As if his own words had brought a new idea to his mind, he frowned and added "things I wish more men would have."
Jehan was about to answer that "faithfulness" had too many syllables for what he was trying to do, but surprised by the bitter tone, unusual in the usually passionate voice of his friend, he managed to get out of his bubble and looked up to find the blonde staring into space, his eyebrows furrowed.
"Well, that sounds like an optimistic thought coming from you. What do you mean by that, if I may ask ?"
His friend sighed and opened his arms. "I don't really know myself. I guess sometimes I feel like I have lost faith- we are doing something so important here, but we have no guarantee of anything. No guarantee that what we do will change something, no guarantee that the men will have the heart to come and help us in this fight. I know I shouldn't think that, because I believe in our fight, but I can't help it."
Prouvaire interrupted him with his soft voice, putting a hand on the other man's arm : "why shouldn't you ? It is normal to have doubts, you know. But as long as you remember what you are fighting for, those doubts can not stop you."
Enjolras let his head fall back with a thoughtful look in his eyes.
"I envy you, you know."
The poet glanced an intrigued look at him.
"Before I consider myself flattered, I am going to need you to elaborate. You are really looking quite weird today, Enjolras."
"You always seem to be so optimistic, you know. About pretty much everything- the flowers in your garden, the friends you meet, the fact that any of this-" he gestured with a bitter look at the empty tables surrounding them, "has a chance to ever succeed. This is why I admire you, and with you all the poets. You know how to find hope in the smallest things, be it a ladybug in a garden or a burnt-out candle."
"But you seem to be quite the poet yourself, my friend."
Enjolras merely shook his head, although his friend's suggestion had managed to bring a smile to his lips.
"I leave such activities to those worthy of them. I fear one couldn't call anything I do poetic- all I ever do is talk of revolution and mythic battles, and you can not call me a poet for merely writing speeches."
"You are wrong here. I have seen how you always have your way with words. It is why they admire you, you know. People such as our friends, Grantaire, myself… everyone. Unlike so many people, you know the power of words and how to use it. Maybe it seems to you there is no poetry in your thoughts, but I can assure you your speeches and your ideals inspire me as much as any poem of Dante or anyone else could. And this is a compliment, really."
Enjolras, whose only reaction to this had been to smirk at the mention of Grantaire, had to admit softly :
"If you say so my friend. I suppose I can trust your opinion on those matters. As long as you do not ask me to start smoking the pipe or write what you would consider a poetic verse, I am fine with being considered a poet in the way you mean it."
Jehan burst out laughing at this.
"Don't come and give me ideas. And I am sure you would love it, by the way."
***
1831
"I can not believe I got out of bed for this. Did we really have to be there this early ? The night hasn't even fallen yet" Courfeyrac complained.
"You didn't have to come, then" Combeferre replied mockingly, which earned him a scandalized look from the former.
It had been Prouvaire's idea, unsurprisingly- to spend the evening in the Luxembourg garden so they could look at the stars. There were only four of them, Prouvaire, Combeferre, Enjolras, who was there half willingly and half because the first two had threatened him or dragging him to a ball later if he did not come, and Courfeyrac who could not possibly imagine not being involved in an evening between friends. Grantaire had been invited as well, but for some reason he did not elaborate on, he had refused to come.
"You know," Courfeyrac reflected, pensively looking at a flower he had picked up a few minutes ago, "I have always wondered why you poets always enjoyed looking at the stars so much. I am not saying they are boring, but to look at them your entire lives… what do you find in them that we," he elbowed Enjolras in the ribs,"mere mortals, don't ?"
Jehan let out a small laugh at this. "There is not one answer to this, you know. This is why I like the stars, actually. They mean something different for everyone. I guess I like how they mostly remind me of how small we all are- or, if you want a more optimistic thought, they are at the same time a symbol of hope. Simply consider the way they are so far away from us, yet they are so big that their light still reaches us from over there. And they have been shining like this for longer than we could even imagine."
"Stars can die too, like everything." Enjolras couldn't help but point out, which caused Prouvaire to frown slightly.
"Who is talking about dying ? Dying can wait for now. I would much rather spend my time listening to the sound of a river, watching flowers grow or studying the stars, like now. And like you are doing right now for what I believe is the first time in your life. Enjoy life for a moment, my friend."
He put an arm around Enjolras's shoulders, smiling encouragingly at him, but the blonde shoved him back playfully.
"Contrary to popular belief, my friend, I actually do enjoy looking at the stars."
Combeferre looked at him, raising his eyebrows slightly in a disbelieving manner. "Do you now ? Not so long ago I would have sworn you would rather take a bullet to the chest than even take a second to contemplate the world around you, let alone the world above you."
Enjolras purposely decided to ignore the mocking undertone in Combeferre's voice and answered with a simple shrug. "I don't know any more than you do. It simply happens that they have a calming effect on me, so I like to look at them every so often. And even objectively speaking, stars are beautiful. You shouldn't expect a man to just pass them by without ever looking at them once in his life."
"Actually, you can," Courfeyrac chimed in for some reason. "Look at Pontmercy. He is always so absorbed by his thoughts, I doubt he even noticed there is a sky above us."
As Combeferre rolled his eyes to the sky, as often when Pontmercy was mentioned, Jehan pointed out softly : "you can not blame him for that, Courfeyrac, if he is in love with one of them."
The three of them got into an argument to decide whether or not Pontmercy was actually in love, and Enjolras smiled softly at the stars, thinking that Prouvaire might actually be right about them- like he was about everything.
Life was good.
***
1832
Jehan had been blindfolded. That was the only thing clear to him right now. His memory felt foggy. All he could remember was looking at Bahorel in horror as he got stabbed in the chest. Then lots of noise, screams and shorts, and then a new voice (was it Pontmercy ? It sounded like Pontmercy) dominating all the others. After that he remembered being dragged away in an alley, and trying to scream for help- Enjolras's name, Grantaire's name, anyone that could come and help him.
And red. Lots of red. So much red… everywhere.
He felt someone seize him by the shoulder and push him forward- against a wall. He didn't even need to listen to the declaration of the captain -he guessed it was a captain, a general wouldn't bother with this- to know what was going to happen next.
"Any last words ?"
So many.
He wanted to see his friends one final time, tell them how much he loved them. He wanted to write so many poems, many small verses that would just make one long poem, and claim it to the world.
He wanted to look at everything around him- Paris, his friends, the sky- one final time. He wanted to tell Grantaire all about the sun rising. He wanted to promise them, all of them, that they needed to hope, that the future would surely be brighter, it was only a matter of time. He wanted to tell Enjolras that he needed to look at the stars again, because it might be his final chance to do so.
But he knew he couldn't do any of this- he was out of time.
So all he did was raise his chin proudly and smile. And now he could smile genuinely, because he knew what he believed in- because it was what Enjolras had taught him. Because he had hope for the future, if not for now.
"Vive la France ! Vive l'avenir !"
***
"Vive la France ! Vive l'avenir !"
Enjolras clenched his jaw. His hand was still on Combeferre's arm when the shot rang out, and he used it to steady himself as he realized -as they both realized- what the succession of noises meant.
"They killed him !" Combeferre gasped in horror.
Enjolras nodded slowly. He had expected it, they had talked about it- he just didn't expect for this to become real. He didn't imagine a poet could actually die like anyone else, let alone Jean Prouvaire.
But apparently it was real. Not that it could change much, at this point. He knew that he couldn't afford to lose hope- not right now, not until this was over.
But for now…
He turned to the spy attached to the pillar, who still hadn't moved. "Your friends have just shot you," he said.
#I had no beta for this one so this is 100% the naturally unhinged thoughts that go on in my brain. hope you enjoy /hj#a few things I might add to this...#i had way too many prompt ideas for this one so I couldn't resist making a longer fic to write what I wanted#writing dialogue is officially my black beast I can not write a decent conversation for my life#although I had tons of fun trying to come up with lines for those two !#also I had to make give a tragic ending because I am physically incapable of writing anything not angsty#... also it's canon era in my defense#okay leo stop ranting in the tags challenge#yes I got a bit carried away but you can't prove anything against me#*digs a hole and disappears for the next few years*#les mis#les miserables#enjolras#jehan prouvaire#jean prouvaire#drinkwithme2023#victor hugo#les amis de l'abc
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MARIKO OUT-DIVA'D EVERYONE ON THE ROOM!!!!
#by using her ancestry no less... slay#yabushige is so funny... i love his manerisms#oh my god#threatening sepukku as a weapon omg..... girl....#star crossed lovers omg....... mariko was my happiness...... girl.....#the hand again.... bi mariko i see you.....#oh my god oh jesus.... hes gonna finish her... and his husband is not there even 😭😭#the hand AGAIN#girl your son is there.... do not make another one look what happened with mizu blue eye samurai#i wrote this before he entered her room i SWEAR#i have been prophecycing this show a little so this actually might become a thing. maybe the slay brother will die too who knows#what i also know is that yabushige is dying at the hands of this man. new person and away from a party.... nothing good can happen#OH NEVERMIND THE OTHER WAY AROUND AKDJSKSNSL YES GO OFF!!! HE IS IMMORTAL!! HIS SWAG TOO GREAT HIS DECEITFUL WAYS TOO HARD#NINJAS NINJAS NINJAS#what did i say. having people on the inside will make their operation work. what did i say. my brain huge my meat massive etc#sorry got carried away#why are they fighting them omg.... they are toranagas men right..... or did yabushige betray them.... oh god i was wrong#MARIKOOOOOOOOOO#oh i am slow. thats what ishido asked for in return. oh god#talking tag#NOT liveposting shogun#hehe.... alas.....#watching shogun#i am seeing that when i talk about someone on the post i then write tags about them dying. apollo stop this madness
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[fic crit, amatonormativity (blogger's own) cw]
revisited a story that i remembered really enjoying, but have had difficulty digging up for a reread because, as it turns out, it's a good 200 pages deep in the relevant pairing tag, and—
turns out that i do still really dig it, and also that the other thing i remembered about it is equally still true, which is that it totally fails to really resolve the emotional side of things! like, it's a fic full of Plot and briefly- but vividly-drawn OCs, and people from the main characters' pasts who show up in ways that work for the story but are also random enough to lend verisimilitude, and we get to see the elements of the foil's day-to-day life—what keeps them busy and burnished when they're not off Adventuring with our protagonist—in generous, engaging detail, and all of that remains really satisfying and compelling to me; but it's billed as a fic ft. a pairing, and yet all we see of that is an established, undiscussed level of ambiguous intimacy that's lovely and warm but queerplatonic at absolute most, and doesn't get tied into any sort of bow by the end, even a friendly one.
and the thing is—there's absolutely nothing wrong with that! if it weren't for the pairing tag i probably wouldn't even find it unsatisfying: it'd just be lovely warm plotty genfic, and i'd enjoy the hell out of it! but i am, for better or for worse, amatonormative enough that when i see a story with a pairing tag, i do personally expect some combination of Romance Feelings and/or sex to appear on the page, unless the author's notes inform me the relationship is queerplatonic or similarly asterisked, and having that expectation go unmet feels like a disappointment even when the fic is on all other fronts the opposite of disappointing. which i'm fully ready to accept is my own failing, rather than the story's! but. idk. pondering and processing. :)
#(i understand this is a totally useless post without citing the fic but. rude to do that! so.#just thinkin out loud here in my Thoughtful Spot (milne voice) 4 my own future reference.#inquiries privately entertained.)#anyway honestly part of me wonders if the author just ran out of time‚ as much as anything else#because it's one of those 'wrote this for a challenge‚ got carried away‚ bon appetit' situations#but another bigger part of me just thinks they don't conceptualize Satisfying Relationship Arcs the way i do!#which—maybe they're aro but also honestly i know allo writers who don't write relationships i find satisfying so. who knows really#generally best not 2 assume even if available evidence points a particular way!#anyway. truly a stupid number of words just 2 say: (re)read a thing; loved it; was disappointed by one aspect of it;#feel stupidly disproportionately let down by that‚ in the way one does when everything else was good and it got you hoping#you were Kindred Spirits and then you turn out to not be‚ not quite‚ after all#fannish things#also i guess#bookblogging
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making yet another post for me and me alone BUT modern au eddie munson + sweet ida (album version) by the altogether = I am Feeling Things
#like an eddie who got tf out of hawkins a month or two after the whole vecna thing and ended up in nyc#he spent just long enough in hawkins post vecna to fall a little in love w steve but was like i gotta leave this place#everyone and their mother hates my guts and i refuse to pine over a straight man for the rest of my days#and he goes to new york but by god he cant stop thinkin about steve bc the man ripped apart a bat with his teeth#and dove into a lake and carried eddie out of hell like a guardian angel and eddies trying to figure himself out#but hes got all this trauma that he cannot speak of without getting disappeared by the feds and#he pours it into his music and finds himself writing about being lost in a city and hearing an angel and#someone seeing the part of him thats still a little kid looking to be loved and the months after vecna were hell#but there were so many pockets of joy and laughter and love and steve was there in every one#and now heres here and writing a song about a boy who is angel and home and muse and hundreds of miles away#a boy who will never love him; not the way eddie wants him to#and then its two years later and steve follows robin to nyu and sees eddie in a dingy little bar singing about an angel of some kind#and their eyes meet and fuck he's just as beautiful as he was when he left hawkins behind in a cloud of dust and#steves still just as hung up on eddie as eddie is on steve#robin tackles eddie after his set and within a month he and steve are sickeningly in love and nothing hurts#anyway#shut up anna#anna writes fic#ig#steddie#look ik the album isn't out on spotify yet and the single version doesn't have the intro that makes me go feral#but trust me#its so eddie coded#i have no impulse control so peep the notes for the intro lyrics that i just spent five minutes transcribing
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what if i want to bite into a raw heart huh
#i got carried away writing a heart-eating in my noteapp and i described it too good#i was going for disgust too so you Know something fucked up#tho i'd prefer it warm#in my writing it was cold with like thickening cold blood and that's kind of gross but MAN. raw heart meat. with blood. i want it#gore mention#ask to tag#I WANT TO EAT A HEART RAW#it had like. meaning in the thing i wrote it was supposed to be a sign of respect for someone's cultural customs surrounding food and a way#to like prove that you acknowledged the soul of what you were about to prepare by. eating the animals heart raw#but it became about hunger and you Know that hunger is the best seasoning so i described that heart way too deliciously#also i put nordic lore in my writing again i had to name a character and invent a way of speaking and i went crazy#i do this too much
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Before Sunrise (وإنتَ بترجع لأيقوناتَك، وأنا للفراغ) • A Hornblower fic by quatregats
You look at me, your eyes shining intensely with sudden emotion, and for a moment every mask has fallen away. There’s something sobering about it, knowing that you’ve given me this secret, that you’ve let me see you vulnerable and unguarded, and I promise to myself that I’ll never tell another soul. Your dark curls frame your face, and you are so lovely and real that it hurts. The weight of the world has been lifted from your shoulders, and I wish it could stay that way forever.
In the Kingston darkness, Hornblower might just allow himself a few moments in Bush's arms.
You can read it here!
#sorry guys this is perhaps an insane thing to write for the hornblower series#but i was listening to kalaam and i got carried away :’)#you should really listen to the song before you read the fic#because this is basically a three-way conversation between the song the fic and canon#the perspective kind of makes it hard not to write as poem-adjacent and bush isn’t much for poems so pardon the discrepancy there#overall this is just a silly sort of thing that i churned out and published do with it what you will#the title is so extremely cheesy i’m sorry ://#the lyric in the title goes much harder but alas it’s in arabic#also once again made a fun little block print! this one was much less time consuming though luckily#perce rambles#scribblings & such#<- thought that perhaps i should make a tag for my original works (writing/drawing)#hornblower#i really don't think this is comprehensible the only person who seems to have gotten it was also a kalaam fan but oh well
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𝐌𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 — JAMES POTTER!
pairings ❧ james potter x reader
summary ❧ no one makes james potter feel the way that his girlfriend does and he definitely knows it
warnings ❧ female!reader, cheesy writing, lots of fluff, sunshine!reader, james is whipped for the reader, based on my girl, by the temptations, implications of wolfstar, pda, not proofread
word count ❧ 1.1k
additional notes ❧ my first james fic sort of blew up and i was feeling inspired to write another—thank you for all your support | i also have a longer version for this so let me know if you’re interested ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა
You’re James’ sunshine, you’re his bundle of light and happiness on a cloudy day, and you’re all of his favorite things mixed into one beautiful girl. To James, nothing can ever compare to the way you make him feel. Every time you look in his direction with those captivating eyes that always sparkle with love—love that you constantly spread across the school like it’s your only goal in life—to make people feel loved, special, wanted—unlike so many—your contagious smile that makes him feel all giddy and causes his stomach to flutter with excitement.
Everything you do, everything you are, makes James feel like one of those special recipients of all the love you have stored in your overflowing heart. James feels like the luckiest guy in the world to have the privilege of holding you in his arms during the cold winter nights spent in his dormitory, the early spring mornings strolling through the flower meadow the two of you found in the outskirts of Hogwarts, the hot summer days spent in the backyard of the Potter residence, and the cool autumn evenings feeling the cool breeze blowing the fallen leaves past your feet.
Even now, you stroll through the doors to the common room and look so effortlessly breathtaking. The elegance you seem to carry with you to every room you enter makes James’ heart race because you’re his girl and no one else can take you away from him.
Yours and James’ friends always know when you’ve entered a room, not just because your presence is enough alone, but because James always seems to have an absolutely stunned expression dancing across his face, almost as if his heart has stopped beating—this time it leads the group to tease the love sick boy.
“What’s got you all smiles, Prongs?” Sirius asks curiously and with a teasing smile he playfully nudges his best friend’s shoulder, earning no reaction from James—who seems to be mesmerized, by your presence, “Is it that girl of yours, again?”
“Is that even a question?” Lily scoffs lightly and with a dramatic roll of her eyes she gazes past the small crowd of people also entering the common room in an attempt to spot your radiant figure, “Of course it’s (Y/n).”
“Let’s ask the lover boy,” Marlene suggests with a sly grin and points the book she's currently reading towards James, before calling over to him teasingly while tilting her head to one side, “Oh, lover boy?”
“Yeah?” James responds without tearing his gaze away from you and when your eyes finally meet he can’t help but let out a captivated sigh, his eyes screaming his absolute admiration for you.
“See, here she comes now," Lily smirks, gesturing in the direction of you, as you continue to make your way towards the group, who are casually sitting in their respective spots around the room—Lily and Mary are sitting together on the couch closest to the blazing, however warm fire, Remus and Marlene are reading on the couch across from them, Sirius is comfortably situated on the floor between Remus’ legs, and finally James is sprawled out on a lounge chair angled directly towards his lovely girlfriend—you.
“Good morning, everyone.” You greet your friends with a loving smile, plop yourself down on James’ lap, and finally turn your long-craved attention toward your favorite boy, “Hey, Jamie.” You add sweetly and swiftly lean over to plant your soft, addicting lips upon his flushed cheek.
“Good morning, love.” James replies, adjusting his hands on your hips in order to pull your back flush against his chest—something you shamelessly lean into. As James wraps one of his arms around your waist and nervously fidgets with the hem of your shirt, you wrap your own arms around his shoulders, place your hands at the nape of his neck, and begin to twirl the ends of his curls (that need a trim, you notice) around your fingers—something you know he’s obsessed with.
You then glance around the room at your friends as they engage in each of their preferred activities on this peaceful and quiet evening. Your face transforms into a content smile, reminiscing on what your life might be like when you and your friends all leave Hogwarts. A day where all of your friends come over to the Potter resistance—you and James’ house, and spend the day around the fire, warm cups of tea within reach, silent communication being shared between you and James before the two of you sneak away and up the perfect wooden stairs to your bedroom, where laughter and secrets are shared under the sheets.
“Prongsy here hasn’t stopped smiling since you walked through that door.” Sirius smiles causally, leaning further back against Remus’ legs as the sandy-brown-haired boy nervously shifts in his chair and swiftly runs the hand that isn’t holding his book through his hair. Sirius’ comment is directed towards you, and you finally snap back into reality when you notice that knowing smirk plastered across Sirius’ face.
James lets out a dramatic groan while throwing his head back against the chair that the two of you continue to sit in. Your boyfriend’s reaction to Sirius’ constant teasing causes a quiet giggle to fall from your lips. The sound of your contagious laugh makes James’ stomach swoon with love and his face visibly lights up after lifting his head back up off of the chair. James can’t help but stare at you even when you’re sitting right in his arms. You look so sweet, radiating with love and warmth. At this moment, James can only imagine what those lips of yours might taste like. And that’s when he kisses you.
James can’t control himself and for valid reasons. You taste just the same as you always do—like honey, sweet as can be. It would be impossible for the bees not to be jealous of him. James could never get tired of kissing your lips and he’s not ashamed of it. If he’s going to spend the rest of his life with you then he’s always going to express his everlasting amount of love and affection for you.
The kiss catches you off guard, not expecting such passion and aggression in front of your friends, but you instinctively kiss James back. Your hands tangle through James’ hair while his grip on your hips and the waist tighten ever-so-slightly. This earns him a surprised squeak from you, and causes a boyish grin to form on James’ face as he kisses you.
“Get a room!” Sirius shouts jokingly from his spot on the floor which causes you and James to pull away with love sick grins consuming your expressions.
“You’re my girl.” James whispers into your ear and affectionately bumps his nose into the apple of your cheek, tickling your sensitive skin. A soft giggle bubbles into the air when James begins to pepper kisses all over your face.
“And I’ll always be your girl.”
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#my works ೀ⋆｡💌#masterlist#james potter imagines#james x reader#marauders james potter#james potter fluff#james potter x reader#james potter imagine#james potter fic#james potter fanfic#james potter fanfiction#james fleamont potter#james fleamont potter x reader#james potter#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter blurb#marauders fandom#marauders fluff#marauders era#marauders#marauders fanfiction
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