#complain to me i can take it. unless it’s about my music taste then shut the fuck up | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs | Tumgik

#complain to me i can take it. unless it’s about my music taste then shut the fuck up

look-better-in-gold · 2 months

Text

YOU KNOW WHAT. I’LL KEEP GOING WITH THE LAW SONGS.

Tumblr media

actually i just revamped my law playlist so i won’t spam his character tag. here. i don’t use spotify so let me know if there’s any problems ig?

#one piece #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #lots of nothing but thieves and des rocs on there.#i know there’s more songs i just need to remember them #my usual playlists i change ALL THE TIME so this one might be wonky?#bc. i am an apple music user i get it for free.#complain to me i can take it. unless it’s about my music taste then shut the fuck up #complain as in ‘does this song REALLY fit him?’

21 notes · View notes

scifrey · 5 months

Text

Tumblr media

NINE-TENTHS

Part Eight

"Sorry, that was a shitty thing to say."

"I do apologize again," he mutters. "I have a wretched temper and I must control it better."

"It was an accident."

He does a sort of half-shrug, head shake move that's awkward as hell, and oh fuck, cute. Dammit. Dammit.

The Rules, I remind myself firmly. Don't forget The Rules.

"Been wondering," my mouth says without any input from my brain, and okay, so that shot of whatever it was the paramedic gave me before she started packing my wounds is kicking in strong because I can't feel my face any more. "Why do you come in and stare at me every morning?"

"Stare at you?" he echoes like an offended maiden aunt.

It's hilarious, so I laugh. And then I wince, and grab my elbow harder. Goddamnit, that hurts. The paramedic heaves a sigh, and wraps my arm in a sling.

"Ouch," I complain as she ties the knot behind my neck.

"Your fault. I told you not to move it."

"I'll make sure he stays still," the dragon says to her with a sort of condescending solemnity.

Is he taking the piss?

I think he's taking the piss.

"You're not my keeper," I snipe back, smirking to show that I'm teasing, that I'm trying to get that light mood back. That I want him to lean back in and press all of that delicious body heat against me.

"I've injured you. It's on me to ensure—"

"Fun as that would be, this isn't actually a draconic romance," I interrupt. I want to put my hand on his knee. Good thing it’s trapped in the sling. "I get it. You're being nice, but like, you don't owe me a debt of honor or any of that possessive Harlequin stuff."

A smile breaks out across his face, and thank fuck. This one is a sarcastic little thing, curling up just one side of his mouth. "Read many draconic Harlequins, do you?"

"Man, shut up," I grump, but I can't seem to control my matching grin. "You can't shame me for my taste. There's nothing wrong with liking happily ever afters."

"Nothing at all," he murmurs, but it's so soft I decide he didn't mean for me to hear it. Fine, I can pretend. I'm in too much pain to pick a fight, anyway. Or, to continue picking it, or… whatever this is that we're doing.

We're not actually fighting, are we?

My stupid brain-weasels grab that idea between their sharp teeth and run away with it, and suddenly I wonder if I've misread this whole thing. What if he doesn't even want to be here?

I hate taking pity-favors from people. If that's what this is, I'd rather do this alone. No one needs to see me being whiny. It's not cool, and it's not sexy. And I want very much to be cool and sexy for him.

Choking on my humiliation, I say softly: "You didn't need to come."

"I really did," he replies, infuriatingly calm.

"We'll probably have to wait for hours."

"I would have been sitting in the café, anyway."

"I will be annoying," I threaten.

"I'm certain you will be."

"I hum terrible classical music earworms when I'm bored."

"I especially like your Peter and the Wolf when you're mopping," he says, but it's small, careful. Despite him being taller than me, and fit as hell, everything about him is carefully controlled. Gentle, that's the word. Precise. From the shine on his shoes to the crease ironed into his slacks, to the usual careful lay of his hair, this man has never once looked or sounded anything but mindfully curated.

He makes me feel loud, messy, and childish. I thought dragons were supposed to be brash, confident, and charismatic, but he's never been demanding, and I’ve never heard him speak above a gentle murmur (unless he’s yelling about fire extinguishers).

He catches my look of confusion and says,"My apologies."

"No, it's—" I start, and then literally bite my tongue because I have no idea how to end that sentence.

Is it fine? Beanevolence is a public space, and I don't have to hum at work if I don't want to. So is it creepy he's noticed? Or is it charming? I have no idea.

"You didn't answer. About why you come into the café every day?" I prompt. He clears his throat and a flush climbs up from his collar. It's not red enough to be scales. Is he embarrassed? "What, you're such a wealthy man of leisure you have nothing better to do?" I joke.

"Quite," is all he says.

Holy shit, what? I have the time to think, but not say, because the ambulance stops.

"Alright, everyone out," the paramedic says, stepping over us to fling open the back door. I don't blame her. The burnt-coffee reek is pretty acrid.

The dragon descends first and holds a hand up for me to take and, yeah, okay, I've got a sling now and it friggin hurts to move so, sure, I can let him Mr. Darcy me onto the sidewalk. There's that smallness again. He's not even a bit impatient for me to accept his help. I don't want to think about it. I also make a point of not letting myself think about his skin, or its warmth, or, or what shape his fingers are when I finally slide my hand into his.

Nope. This is not a tropey repressed hand-touch moment. I refuse.

The paramedic walks us through getting signed in at the admission desk, then we're directed toward the uncomfortable waiting room.

"Plastic chairs," I whine as I sink into one, just because I can.

I'd promised the dragon I'd be a bastard. I might as well live up to it. It'll be fun, if nothing else.

The dragon looks around and then down at his blackened hands. "Would you mind if I—?"

"Go. Scrub." I wave him off.

"Will you—?"

"I'm fine." I pull my cell phone out of my back pocket. There's already half a dozen texts from Hadi, and one each from Gemma and Stuart, who must have heard the news already, and a missed call from Mum.

He hesitates, and I pointedly bow my head to make it clear that I've already dismissed him, turning my attention to the family group chat:

im 👌 oven caught 🔥 not my fault

The dragon doesn't have a tail, but when I glance up, it still looks like he's walking up the hall with one tucked between his legs.

Previous Part | Next Part | Read on Wattpad

1 note · View note

deancaskiss · 3 years

Text

The 5 Senses of Longing

This fic is a gift for @stanforderadean as part of my gift exchange celebration!

Also posted on ao3.

Word Count: 7,463 (Continued under the Read More)

Dean rapped his knuckles on the wood door, pausing for a second before nudging it open with his shoulder. Cas was lying on the bed in his room, propped up against the headboard with a book in his lap, and Dean was once again hit with the startling recollection that Cas actually needed to sleep now that he didn’t have his Grace. Somehow it was endearing to see Cas this way; curled up under the covers and rubbing sleep from his eyes.

But wasn't that the point of this? The whole reason Dean had come knocking on Cas' door in the first place. Because Cas had been without his powers for months now, and also because they were in a lull with finding Metatron and killing Abbadon. What they needed was a little break. And even though they were dealing with more shit than ever before, Dean yearned to slow things down around them for just a couple of days to show Cas some of the good things about being human.

Dean had been the one to suggest the idea casually to Sam, and with Ezekiel healing him slowly, it was best for Sam to stay at the Bunker and rest. Which gave Dean the perfect opportunity. Now the only thing to do was to bring the idea to Cas.

“Hey, buddy,” Dean said, hovering in the doorway. “Mind if I come in?”

Cas smiled, lowering his book and closing it with a quiet thump. “Not at all,” he said, gesturing for Dean to enter the room. “Did something happen?” he asked, smile shifting into something more alert as he pushed himself further up in the bed.

“No, no, nothing happened,” Dean quickly reassured, taking a couple steps closer before hesitating at the foot of the bed. Should he sit on the bed? Should he pull up a chair? Should he just stand there? Why was he overthinking this? God, he really needed to get these bubbling feelings under control before he opened his mouth and said something he shouldn’t. “I was uh. Actually wondering if you were busy?”

Cas blinked a couple times, tilting his head and squinting up at Dean in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I thought we could go on a little road trip. Just you and me for a couple of days. Wanted to show you a few things now that you’re sorta human,” Dean said.

“A road trip? Don’t we do that all the time?” Cas asked.

Dean grinned, nudging Cas’ leg with his knee as he plopped himself down on the edge of the bed. “Well, yeah. But this isn’t gonna be a road trip for a case. There’s a couple of spots around here that you’ve got to experience. Sights and smells you haven’t seen yet. Oh, and the best stack of pancakes you’ll ever eat. You’ve just gotta trust me.”

Something soft and affectionate sparked through Cas’ eyes before he nodded. “Best pancakes I’ll ever eat? Is that so?” he teased.

All the nerves that had been lurching in Dean’s stomach settled all at once, and he shoved at Cas’ leg again. Yeah. This he could do. Their usual playful antics that he enjoyed so much. He didn’t need to think about that little spark that was twining around his heart at the way Cas had just smiled at him.

“Just you wait. Now that you’ve got taste buds, I’m gonna make you try every single food I can get my hands on. I will find every single thing you enjoy eating, mark my words,” Dean said lightly, hauling himself up from the bed. “Twenty minutes. Get your ass moving and meet me at the car.”

Cas laughed, free and happy, and Dean’s heart lurched in his chest. Oh, he was going to do everything he could over the next two days just to hear that sound again.

Dean had just reached the door when Cas called out to him.

“Hey, Dean?”

Dean turned, hand on the doorknob as he looked back at Cas. “Yeah?”

“Thank you,” Cas said, smiling so warmly that it made Dean feel momentarily weak in the knees. Oh God. If Cas kept smiling at him like that, Dean was going to do something he regretted, like kiss Cas stupid until he could feel that smile against his own lips.

“Yeah, of course. Twenty minutes. Don’t be late,” Dean said, flashing Cas a quick smile before bolting from the room; the door snapping shut behind him as he escaped to the safety of his own room.

Pressing his back into his bedroom door, Dean heaved in a deep breath; closing his eyes and scrubbing his hands over his face. This idea was either the best thing he’d ever come up with... or it was going to be the death of him. Maybe he’d be able to get over this stupid fluttering feeling in his chest. Or maybe, just maybe, that feeling was going to explode until it consumed him whole.

~

"Where are we going first?" Cas asked, sliding into the passenger seat exactly nineteen minutes later.

A minute early, Dean noted. Was that deliberate? Was it accidental? Dean couldn't possibly be overthinking one teeny tiny little minute, could he?

"Pancakes, obviously. Unless you're suddenly going to turn your nose up at chocolate," Dean said, darting his eyes over to Cas as they pulled out of the Bunker onto the main dirt road winding through the woods.

"Chocolate?" Cas repeated, turning in his seat until he'd angled his body towards Dean. The smile that crept across his lips was so dazzling that Dean had to suck in a sharp breath and force his eyes on the road. "I love chocolate."

Huffing out a laugh, Dean clicked on the music and Zeppelin softly filled the air. "Oh really? I never would've known." Shifting onto the main road, Dean grinned at Cas. "I definitely didn't see you eat 3 chocolate bars yesterday."

Cas pretended to be shocked, gasping at Dean even though his eyes were sparkling with laughter. "That certainly wasn't me. Sam framed me."

The laughter bubbled up from Dean’s chest, and he couldn't stop himself from knocking his hand against Cas' knee. "You're a menace. You and your sudden sweet tooth."

"I don't see you complaining that hard. Considering now you have someone to eat chocolate pancakes with."

The breath caught in Dean's throat; such simple words hitting like a wave against his chest. Keeping his focus on the road, he quickly darted his gaze over at Cas from the corner of his eye. Cas had tucked himself against the door, with his body still tilted towards Dean. There was a soft expression on his face; a smile that lit up his eyes with his nose crinkled adorably.

Oh God, this feeling really was going to consume Dean.

Shifting the conversation towards topics that wouldn’t make Dean’s heart ache in his chest, the hour-long drive slipped by in a blur. The diner soon loomed on the horizon, and it was so easy to keep talking about blueberries vs bananas as Dean guided the Impala into a parking spot.

“Doesn’t it depend on what you’re putting the fruit with?” Dean asked, holding the diner door open for Cas to walk through. “Besides, bananas can be baked into far more things than blueberries.”

Cas scrunched up his face, giving Dean a look that bordered on a pout. “You’re just saying that because you prefer bananas over blueberries.”

"I would never," Dean teased, before stepping up to the counter. "Table for two, please."

"Right this way," the hostess said, guiding them to a booth in the back of the diner.

As soon as they sat down, Cas moved to pick up a menu from the table, but Dean reached out from the other side of the booth and plucked it from Cas' hands. "Nope. No looking. You just gotta trust me on this one, yeah?"

"What if I don't like it?" Cas asked, raising an eyebrow even though he leaned back in his seat, conceding to Dean's statement of trust.

Tapping his fingers against the table, Dean tried not to linger on the way their fingertips had just barely brushed when he'd pulled the menu from Cas' grasp. "You will. Don't overthink it and have a little faith in me."

"I do. Trust you," Cas said, something in his tone slipping from playful to serious.

Dean shook his head, dispelling the heavier tone. He didn't want to think about Cas' unwavering trust and how most days he felt like he didn't deserve it. Right now, this moment was about showing Cas something more.

"Good. Because if you don't like it, I'm never speaking to you again," Dean joked, lightening the mood again.

"Never again? That's a long time to not talk to me because of some pancakes, Dean,” Cas laughed.

Just as Dean was about to throw another tease at Cas, a waiter appeared at their table with a smile and a notepad in his hand.

“Hi there, welcome to Mel’s. My name’s Hunter. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Actually, Hunter, we’re ready to order. Two coffees, one with cream and sugar and one with cream. And two short stacks of the rocky road pancakes, please.”

Hunter smiled, jotting down the order. “Well that was easy. I’ll get those coffees out to you both in just a few moments.”

“Thank you,” Cas said, as Hunter collected their menus and disappeared towards the kitchen. “You know how I like my coffee?”

Dean ducked his head, a sudden tinge burning his cheeks as he cleared his throat. “Cream and two sugars. Like I said, you like things on the sweeter side,” Dean said, avoiding Cas’ gaze from the other side of the table.

“You’re very observant,” Cas pointed out.

Dean bit down on his tongue, forcing himself to swallow the words ‘I’m only observant when it comes to you.’ Instead, he threw on a cocky smirk and said, “That’s because I’m an excellent hunter.”

Rolling his eyes, Cas kicked Dean lightly under the table. “You’re not that good.”

Dean pretended to be offended, scrunching up one of the spare napkins and throwing it at Cas’ face. Cas laughed, bright and giddy, and Dean felt a weightless feeling in his chest. He spent the next 15 minutes doing anything and everything he could just to hear Cas laugh again and again.

By the time their pancakes and coffee arrived at the table, Cas’ cheeks were pink from laughter and Dean had never been more smitten. Cas made a little sound of shock as the pancakes were put in front of him; his eyes widening as he looked up at Dean in surprise.

Three massive chocolate pancakes covered the entire size of the plate. Topped with handfuls of marshmallows and almonds, along with a drizzle of chocolate syrup and cocoa powder, it was a chocolate overload.

“What do you think? Does it look sweet enough for you, angel?” Dean said, with a grin.

“Looks like Heaven,” Cas muttered, picking up his fork and taking a bite. Cas instantly groaned in pleasure, eyes fluttering shut as he hummed happily. “Tastes like it, too.”

Dean wasn’t sure whether to laugh at Cas’ words or to dwell on the sound Cas had made when he tasted the pancakes, and it was all too much and not enough.

“You like it?” Dean asked, swallowing a mouthful of his own pancake and washing it down with a sip of coffee just so he could distract himself from the look of sheer bliss that was on Cas’ face.

“It’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten,” Cas said, dipping one of the mini marshmallows into the chocolate syrup with a grin.

This time Dean did laugh, nudging Cas’ leg under the table with his foot. “Don’t eat it too fast or you’ll give yourself hiccups.”

“That’s not a thing,” Cas said, chewing on another mouthful of pancake.

“Yeah, Cas, it is,” Dean said, huffing out a breath and rolling his eyes fondly.

As if to prove his point, Cas started hiccuping a minute later. Dean raised an eyebrow, as if to say, ‘see, I told you,’ and Cas pouted.

“But it’s so-” he broke off to hiccup, “Good.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Dean said warmly. “Hold your breath for twenty seconds, and then eat a little slower. The pancake isn’t going anywhere.”

Cas gave Dean a sharp look. “Unless you-” he hiccuped again, “steal it from my plate before I can eat it.”

Okay, that was a fair point. Dean definitely had eaten from Cas’ plate before. But this time, he placed his hand on his heart as he said, “I won’t touch your pancakes, you have my word.”

Shoulders bouncing as Cas hiccuped again, Dean watched as Cas took in a deep breath and then held it. He internally counted as well, watching as Cas let the breath out twenty seconds later.

They both waited a beat, then two, and when no more hiccups came, Cas beamed at Dean. “It worked,” he said before moving to take another bite of chocolatey goodness.

They lapsed into comfortable silence as they ate, both of them enjoying their breakfast. Cas broke the moment a few minutes later to say, "I want to eat these pancakes every day for the rest of my life."

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dean grinned across the table at Cas. "I'm not sure if we can get out here every day. But we can make it a thing, if you want? Every Sunday that we're at home, you and I can drive down here for breakfast," Dean offered.

Cas nodded eagerly, a genuine smile lighting up his face. "I'd love that."

Something warm settled in Dean's veins; seeing Cas so happy and content over something as simple as a stack of pancakes. It was all Dean had wanted. To see Cas smile and to see him enjoy something Dean also liked.

Nodding firmly, decision made, Dean nudged Cas with his foot again. “Finish your pancakes. We’ve got more things to explore today.”

“Like what?” Cas asked, freezing with his fork inches from his lips. Dean had to force himself to look away before he stared at the way Cas’ lips wrapped around the fork.

“You’ll see. I’ll give you a couple options in the car and you can pick whichever one you want,” Dean said, biting down on his own fork just a little too roughly; the tang of metal vibrating along his tooth.

Cas pouted, pointing at Dean with the handle of his fork. “What if I want to know the options now?”

Miming zipping his lips closed, Dean smiled at the fond exasperation that Cas shot his way. The expression instantly melted into a smile again as Cas scooped more marshmallows onto his chocolate pancake.

“A new tradition,” Cas murmured, more to himself than Dean, but Dean heard the fondness in the words and his heart kicked up again in his chest.

God, Dean was happy. Happier than he’d been in a long time. He genuinely cared about Cas enjoying things, and knowing he’d been able to make Cas smile was a damn good feeling.

By the time they made their way back to the Impala twenty minutes later, both full of chocolatey sweetness, Cas immediately tapped his fingers on Dean’s knee. “What are the options?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean nudged Baby into gear and pulled back out onto the road. “So impatient.”

“Shut up,” Cas huffed, his tone sharply contrasting the happy look on his face.

“Alright. Simple question. Don’t think too hard about it. Ready?”

Cas nodded.

“Aquarium or the zoo?”

Cas’ eyes sparkled bright blue in the late morning sunlight as he made his choice. “Aquarium.”

~

The afternoon sun crept through the Impala windows as they arrived at the aquarium in Kansas City a couple of hours later. Cas had spent the entire drive talking about the evolution of fish and their importance to the earth from creation until now.

It was entirely endearing, hearing Cas talk so animatedly. It made Dean want to pull over; to watch Cas talk as he hung on every word that slipped past Cas’ lips. Instead, he darted his eyes over to the passenger seat as often as he could, watching as Cas occasionally emphasized his point by gesturing with his hands.

Too cute.

Dean turned his eyes back to the road again.

As soon as they’d parked, Cas was out of the car and gravitating towards the entrance before Dean could even open his door. There was an excited gleam in Cas’ eyes, and Dean felt the electric pull as he allowed Cas to lead the way to the ticket booth.

“I wonder if they’ll have any seahorses. Did you know they’re the only animals where the male carries the eggs and undergoes the birthing process?” Cas asked as Dean purchased the tickets.

Dean hummed vaguely in answer, not wanting to take away from Cas’ enthusiasm by admitting he already knew that. “I’m sure they’ll have plenty of seahorses,” he said instead, watching Cas from the corner of his eye as the former angel beamed.

Stepping into the cool air conditioned building, Dean’s eyes caught the entrance sign that indicated which direction each exhibit was located and he nudged Cas towards it. “What do you want to see first?”

Cas’ gaze caught the very first line on the sign and he grinned. “There are sea turtles, Dean. A whole rescue center for them.” Something in Cas’ expression shifted from excited to fond in the blink of an eye; leaving Dean reeling at how expressive Cas was. “It’s nice. That there are people who try to conserve endangered species.”

Dean bumped his shoulder into Cas’, gently directing him towards the sea turtle exhibit. “See? Not all humans are terrible,” he joked.

“No. They’re not,” Cas said, the fondness morphing into something tender as his gaze locked with Dean’s. The moment felt blinding, and Dean had to tear his eyes away before he did something stupid like lean in and kiss Cas right in front of the exhibit.

Instead, Dean shifted the conversation into something lighter. Putting his hand out, he caught Cas’ shoulder and held him back mere feet from the turtles. When Cas gave him a questioning look, Dean moved to tap his nose with his finger. “Take a second. What do you smell?”

Cas tilted his head, sucking in a deep breath before raising an eyebrow at Dean. “Salt water.”

Dean nodded. “Part of the experience is the smell; the salt lingering in the air from the exhibits. Almost makes you feel like you’re right there by the ocean.”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes fluttered shut as he took another long, slow breath. A little smile graced his lips, and the sight was so simplistic and yet so beautiful Dean momentarily lost his breath. Quickly sneaking out his phone, Dean took a picture; with the turtles in the background and Cas with his eyes closed in a peaceful bliss.

“I like it,” Cas said a moment later, eyes fluttering open as he looked over at Dean. “The atmosphere is peaceful.”

Nodding, Dean nudged Cas to start moving again. “I’m glad. Now let’s go see the turtles.”

Entering into the turtles rescue center, they walked up to one of the large tanks where several turtles gracefully swam by. Cas moved forward, gently pressing his palm to the glass. “They’re beautiful,” he murmured.

“Do you want to sit and watch them? It looks like there might be someone coming to feed them if you want to stay for that?” Dean asked.

“I’d love to,” Cas said, letting Dean lead him to a bench just a couple of feet away.

They sat down together, watching as the turtles elegantly moved through the water. It was captivating and mesmerizing; both watching the turtles glide through the water, but also watching Cas watching the turtles.

“Tell me something. About turtles, I mean,” Dean said, bumping Cas’ knee with his own.

“Their species is 110 million years old,” Cas said wistfully, as if he were picturing the moment when sea turtles first came into existence. “They don’t have any teeth,” he said, nodding his head to the tank where several jellyfish and crabs were being fed to the turtles. “Their mouth is made of keratin, like your fingernails, which helps to break down the plants and small animals that they eat.”

“They really are elegant,” Dean said, pressing his shoe up against Cas’ and offering him a smile.

Cas nodded, his eyes darting back and forth between the turtles and Dean. “They were some of my favorite creatures made for the ocean.” Cas lapsed into silence for a few moments, his gaze caught on a cluster of turtles that swam up to the surface to take a breath.

Dean let the pause linger, but instead of watching the turtles, he spent his time watching Cas. He cataloged the serene expression on Cas’ face and committed it to memory. It was a pleased contentment that Dean wanted to see Cas experience over and over again.

After several minutes of watching the turtles swim around and waddle their way up onto a sandy ledge, Cas bumped their knees together. “What’s next?”

“You tell me,” Dean said. “What do you want to see?”

“Fish. Any fish,” he paused, “The fish from that movie you’ve talked about before.”

Dean laughed, tipping his head back and letting a bubbling feeling of happiness wrap around his heart. “You mean Finding Nemo?”

“That’s it. Show me fish from Finding Nemo,” Cas said, getting up from the bench and offering his hand to Dean.

Dean let his fingers wrap around Cas’ wrist as Cas pulled him to his feet, and a spark of longing cascaded down his spine. Before he could linger on the feeling for too long, Cas had let go and was moving towards the nearest sign with arrows to the major exhibits.

“It says fish exhibits are this way,” Cas said, already moving towards the tunnel he’d indicated. Except it wasn’t just a tunnel. A large tank wrapped around the walkway, giving a massive overhead view of several sharks and fishes as they stepped into the passage.

“Wow,” Cas breathed out, tilting his head back so he could watch as a blacktip shark swam over their heads. They paused in the corridor, watching as a school of fish darted overhead just seconds after the shark had passed. “I’ve never seen anything like this before,” Cas whispered.

There was something about Cas’ earnest awe that made Dean want to surprise him over and over again. “Do you like it?” Dean asked, stepping to the side as a family moved past them.

“I do,” Cas replied, happy and carefree.

And then they were moving again; past the sharks and into several rooms filled with tanks of colorful fish. From sea bass to minnows, and rockfish to flounders; they spent a vast amount of time looking at each exhibit of fish. Dean specifically found tanks filled with clownfish and blue tangs, explaining the plot of Finding Nemo even though he knew Cas already knew the movie.

The exhibits transitioned from fish into invertebrates and other sea creatures; crabs and lobsters, jellyfish and urchins, eels to octopi. Cas was fascinated by every animal they saw.

But Dean’s favorite part was the knowledge Cas shared. At every single exhibit, Dean pointed at a fish and asked, “Tell me something about this one.” And, without fail, Cas instantly told Dean a unique fact or detail about whichever animal Dean had pointed at. Dean stopped looking at the signs next to each tank, instead turning and asking Cas what each species was. No matter how many times Dean asked, Cas gave him the same beautifully fond smile as he detailed every fish they saw.

By the time they’d made their way through all of the tanks, Dean swore he could write and direct his own nature series on sea creatures with all the information Cas had shared.

“Alright, now we’ve seen the fish, are you ready for the best part of any aquarium trip?” Dean asked as they stepped back out into the main entryway of the building.

“There’s something better than seeing the fish?” Cas asked, tilting his head questioningly.

Dean chuckled, nudging Cas towards another corridor while deliberately blocking the signpost from view so that he could surprise Cas. “Oh, trust me, you’re gonna enjoy this.”

Guiding Cas past tanks of coral and kelp, they walked out into a large enclosure. People lingered around a massive pool in the center of the room; children screaming and giggling and the sounds of splashing water echoing around the walls.

“Welcome,” Dean said, gesturing widely with his arms, “To the interactive touchpool.”

“The what?” Cas asked, squinting at Dean in shock.

“Touchpool, Cas. It’s where you can actually put your hand in the water and touch the creatures. I thought you’d like to physically interact with some of the animals. If you want?”

Cas pulled in a sharp breath, his eyes flitting to the large pool before darting back to Dean in awe. “What animals are there?”

“Why don’t we go find out?” Dean said, guiding Cas to the sink area so they could both wash their hands before directing them to an open spot along the wall of the exhibit. Rolling his sleeve up, Dean motioned for Cas to do the same. Then he dipped his fingertips into the water, and watched as Cas copied his motions.

Reaching out, Dean’s fingers brushed over a sea star and he chuckled quietly. “C’mere,” he said, moving his hand through the water until he bumped against Cas. Linking their fingers together, Dean guided their joined hands down until Cas’ palm was pressed against the sea star.

“Oh.” Cas’ surprise hung in the air between them as he leaned his weight into Dean’s side. Pressed together against the rocky edge of the exhibit, Dean swore he never wanted to let go. But Cas deserved to experience what it felt like to touch these creatures. Loosening his hold on Cas’ wrist until he was just barely brushing their hands together, Dean felt Cas’ hand move slowly over the top of the sea star, as if he were memorizing every hard bump of the spines along its body. “It’s not what I expected, even though I know every molecule they’re made of. It feels… leathery,” Cas said, tilting his head carefully as he gently traced his fingers over the starfish for a second time.

Dean gave Cas another minute to interact with the sea star before he slipped his fingers across the back of Cas’ hand and carefully guided him again. “How does this feel?” he asked as he lowered Cas’ hand down gently towards an anemone.

Cas let out another little gasp, hand jerking back slightly at the texture before he touched it again. “Gelatinous. Like jello,” Cas said with a laugh, fingers tracing over the flower-like structure.

Shifting away slightly to put some space between them, Dean moved to pull his hand away, but Cas instantly followed him until he pressed their hands together again. Their fingers interlocked under the rippling water, and Dean felt his breath stutter out of his lungs.

“Show me something else,” Cas said, voice almost drowned out by the loud sounds all around them.

Pulling in a sharp breath, Dean kept their hands linked together as he took a step to the side; waiting for Cas to follow him. He watched carefully as the stingray moved along the floor of the exhibit, and as it approached them, he directed Cas’ hand down until his palm slid down the stingray's back.

“What does the stingray feel like?” Dean asked, words sticking in his throat as the overwhelming sensations sparked between them.

“Smooth. Almost sleek and silky,” Cas said, voice dropping into something breathy in awe. Cas’ hand lingered against the stingray, fingertips stroking over it’s skin before Dean shifted their joined hands down onto the bottom of the tank.

“Let it move over your hand,” Dean said, shifting his hold on Cas until he was gripping around Cas’ wrist.

The stingray rippled over Cas’ hand as it swam along the floor, and Cas let out a startled laugh. “It tickles,” he said, leaning his weight back into Dean again until his hip bumped against Dean’s. They remained that way for several long seconds as the stingray moved over Cas’ hand and continued on its way down the length of the pool.

Dean cast his eyes from the water up to Cas, and their gazes locked for a heart-pounding moment. An unspoken thing passed between them, and Cas momentarily flipped his hand until his palm brushed against Dean’s palm. There was a rush of water that moved around their hands at the motion, but Dean swore he could feel the heat from Cas’ hand radiating up into his.

Movement from a large gray fish broke Dean from the trace and he tipped Cas’ hand palm down again as the fish swam past.

“Fish,” Dean said.

“Sturgeon,” Cas clarified as his fingers grazed along the bony spines of its back until it’s whiskers tickled over the pads of his fingers. “It’s smooth because it doesn't have any scales, but also bony where the cartilage creates these projections.”

Nodding, Dean glided their hands through the water again until they brushed against the sharp roughness of coral.

“It’s different, right? Focusing all your senses on the way something feels,” Dean said quietly.

Cas nodded, letting Deans’ fingers slide into the gaps between his own again. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like it,” Cas said, words whispered reverently between them. And then, said even more quietly, “I remember watching the evolution of these creatures; watching one of the fish climb onto the shore and another angel telling me not to step on that fish because there were big plans for it. I wish I’d known then.”

“Known what?” Dean asked, a sudden lump forming in his throat.

“How beautiful fish could be, and what it was truly like to see them and touch them,” Cas responded, letting Dean maneuver them as another stingray floated through the water right underneath their hands.

Dean tilted his head, watching the way Cas’ expressions shifted from amazement to surprise and delight.

“Do you want to stay here for a little while? We can see if there’s any other creatures on the other side of the pool that you can interact with?”

The smile that Cas gave him was so bright Dean swore it rivaled the sun. “I’d like that very much.”

Letting go of Cas’ hand and stepping away from the water felt like Dean had left a part of himself behind on the edge of the pool. But when they’d found a new spot on the opposite end of the exhibit, Cas’ hand instantly found Dean’s underwater.

They spent an hour at the touchpool interacting with the creatures, but Dean wasn’t paying attention to the animals anymore. All he could focus on was the way Cas’ hand fit perfectly with his own, and how Cas kept their fingers intertwined the entire time. Dean never wanted the moment to end; Cas pressed against him, babbling excitedly about how everything felt, as if they had all the time in the world to linger right there at the edge of the glistening water.

~

Dusk had fallen by the time they left the aquarium. Walking back to the car, Dean felt drunk on happiness with the tingling sensation of Cas’ fingers still lingering against his hand. Part of him wanted to reach out and grasp Cas’ hand again, but without the pretense of the water, Dean hesitated and the moment slipped by.

But the day had been good; better than anything Dean could’ve hoped for. In all the time he’d known Cas, Dean swore he’d never seen Cas laugh and smile so much.

By the time they climbed back into the Impala, Cas was hiding a yawn behind his hand, automatically dropping his head to rest against the door.

“I think that’s enough excitement for one day. Ready to find a motel and get some sleep?” Dean asked.

Cas’ tired eyes found Dean’s in the muted light from the streetlight above them, and he gave Dean a soft nod. Despite the exhaustion, Dean could still see the etches of happiness lingering in Cas’ expression. Something churned in Dean’s stomach at the sight and he reached out, resting his hand briefly on Cas’ knee with a gentle squeeze.

“Dean,” Cas said, voice infused with affection.

The tenderness was almost too much to bear, and Dean cast his eyes out to the road as they pulled out of the parking lot. “Sap,” he muttered back to Cas, catching the little fond smile on Cas’ face at the light teasing.

Once they were back on the road, Cas closed his eyes and tipped his head back against the door again. Dean noticed, and quickly he fumbled one handed to grab one of his spare jackets from the backseat. He nudged it into Cas’ lap, nodding his head towards the door. “Better to use a jacket as a pillow.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmured thickly, scrunching the jacket up and nestling it between his head and the door. Another surge of fondness surged up to wrap around Dean’s lungs, and he forced himself to focus on driving instead of watching Cas drift off to sleep with his head pillowed on his jacket.

It took almost half an hour of driving to find a motel that had any vacancy- why the last 3 were all full was a surprising feat that Dean had rarely encountered- and Dean was tempted to let Cas sleep the rest of the night tucked up in the passenger seat, but he knew from experience that it was more comfortable to drag his exhausted ass into a motel room than to get neck ache from sleeping against the car door. As softly as he could, Dean nudged Cas’ shoulder.

Cas’ eyes immediately fluttered open, Dean’s name on his lips as he catalogued their surroundings with sleepy blinks.

“Hey buddy. Are you ready to get out of the car and get some sleep in a bed?” Dean prompted, keeping his tone gentle in the peaceful darkness of the car.

“Yeah, okay,” Cas said, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

God. The sight was ridiculously cute. Dean’s heart kicked up against his chest, and he forced himself to open the door and step out into the cool night air before he reached out and brushed his hand through Cas’ messy hair. “I’ll go get us checked in.”

He waited until he saw Cas nod before he made his way to the front desk.

A young man looked up as the bell above the door dinged, and the smell of musty haze hit Dean as he stepped into the building.

“Single room with two queens, please,” Dean said, stepping up to the counter.

The man made a face, shaking his head as he dropped a key in front of Dean. “Sorry, dude. I’ve got one room left with one bed. There’s a convention in town and everywhere is booked for miles.”

Well shit. Dean cast his eyes outside to Cas, who was leaning against the hood of the Impala with his shoulders hunched as if he were barely keeping himself standing upright. They were both tired, and searching for another motel when there was a room here felt unnecessarily complicated. They could share a bed, right? It was just for one night. Cas wouldn’t mind, would he?

“Yeah, alright, we’ll take it,” Dean said, lungs suddenly constricting in his chest at the thought of lying inches away from Cas. “Thanks.” Picking up the key, Dean made his way back out to the Impala where Cas had stacked their bags on the curb by his feet.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing,” he said, bending down to grab his overnight bag. “They only had one room left with just one bed.”

“Okay,” Cas said, simple and easy. But was that… was that a smile? Why was Cas smiling about sharing a bed? Surely he wouldn’t want to be crammed up next to Dean after they’d spent all day in each other’s pockets. “I’m following you.”

Shaking his head, Dean hummed vaguely and followed the signs down to their room. Nudging open the door, Dean dumped his bag on the little table by the window. “You can go ahead and take a shower first if you want?”

Cas smiled, tired yet genuine. “Are you sure?”

Nodding, Dean gestured towards the bathroom. “Go for it. I’m just gonna check in on Sam and see how he’s doing.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

Dean watched Cas disappear into the bathroom, and his chest ached as the yearning wrapped thickly around his lungs. God. Any hopes Dean had of this trip dampening his feelings had quickly flown out the window. The ache was even deeper now, and the thought of sharing a bed with Cas all night was more than Dean could handle.

Stepping back outside, Dean sucked in a sharp lungful of air. He really was in trouble now. Calling Sam didn’t seem to distract Dean at all; especially because Sam had nothing exciting to report other than the fact he’d been doing some inventory work around the bunker.

A cold shower would help to tamper down the yearning… well, it would’ve if Dean hadn’t seen Cas emerge from the bathroom in a soft pair of pajama pants and one of Dean’s old tshirts that he’d given to Cas a couple months ago.

Shit. Dean was well and truly smitten.

Cas tugged the blankets around himself as he curled up on the left side of the bed, and Dean felt his heart lurch in his chest. Soft. That was the best word he could find to describe how Cas looked. Hair still damp and flopped across his forehead with a faded maroon shirt highlighting Cas’ tan. The sleepy look in Cas’ eyes was enough to have Dean melting into the floor.

“I’ll be- uh, be right back,” Dean said, locking himself into the bathroom as his heart thundered against his ribs.

There was no escaping the feeling.

By the time Dean made his way back into the room, he expected Cas to be asleep. But instead he was propped up against the headboard and he smiled at Dean the second he saw him. Dean hesitated for a moment at the edge of the bed, before pulling back the covers and climbing in on the other side.

Cas instantly shifted so he was facing Dean, offering him another tired smile. “Today was good. Really good,” he murmured quietly.

Dean felt himself relax into the mattress; tilting until he was lying face to face with Cas. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cas replied. They lapsed into silence for a few moments before Cas admitted, “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Dean raised an eyebrow in the faint light coming from the single lamp on Cas’ side of the bed, waiting for Cas to clarify what he meant.

“That the simple things in life could be so beautiful,” Cas said after a moment, as if he’d been looking for the right words to describe what he was feeling. “I don’t know what…” Cas paused, tilting his head until his cheek was pressed into the pillow. “I’ve never really known what happiness is. But I think this is what it looks like; what it feels like.”

The words hovered between them, heavy in their confession and yet light in their tone.

“You’re happy?” Dean whispered, barely able to get his voice to escape past his lips.

Cas smiled, gummy and soft, and it was the most beautiful smile Dean had ever seen. “Really, really happy,” Cas said, fingers tugging lightly at the blanket he’d wrapped himself in.

The words settled like honey in Dean’s veins, and he felt himself smile right back at Cas. God, why was he feeling so sappy and why did he want to do anything to keep that smile on Cas’ face?

“Wanna talk about plans for tomorrow? I’ve got another idea you might enjoy that’s on the way back home,” Dean said. The idea had wiggled its way into his head while he’d been brushing his teeth, and he had a feeling it would make Cas smile even more when he suggested it.

“Yeah?” Cas asked, echoing the same tone Dean had used just a couple minutes ago.

“Botanical garden. There’s one on the other side of Kansas City that’s famous for blooming flowers this time of year. I thought you might like to see some of the beauty of nature,” Dean said.

A smitten look crossed Cas’ face; his eyes softening into something extremely tender and affectionate. And then he was leaning across the pillow into Dean’s space. When their lips met, it was the softest brush Dean had ever felt in his life.

Cas pulled back with a little sigh of an exhale, and then dove back in to press their mouths together again. This kiss was even warmer and slower; Cas pressing his body against Dean and Dean wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist to coax him closer.

They broke the kiss with little gasps before closing the gap to kiss again. Cas’ nose brushed against Dean’s, nuzzling delicately, before his fingertips grazed along Dean’s jaw.

Dean’s heart ached in his chest as Cas peppered several quick butterfly pecks against his lips before lingering on the next kiss. Everything seemed to slow down around them, until all of Dean’s senses were overwhelmed with the touch and taste of Cas.

Somehow, Dean had always pictured that kissing Cas would be like an electrical storm; crackling and fizzling and bursting with desperation to make things deeper. But this… this was the most delicate and romantic kiss Dean had ever experienced in his life. Soft and simple; just gentle caresses of their lips melding together with little happy hums.

Cas tilted his head and Dean followed the movement, sliding his hand under the hem of Cas’ tshirt until he was tracing little patterns along Cas’ hip. Each kiss felt like Dean was going to melt into the mattress as Cas huffed a tiny breath against his cheek before kissing him again.

God.

It was so good Dean just couldn’t get enough.

When Cas pulled back with a stuttering breath, Dean chased him, free hand coming up to cup Cas’ cheek as he brushed their noses together again before seeking out Cas’ lips in another kiss.

Quiet little pleased sounds filled the air with the tickle of lips teasing against each other. Cas’ hands had found their way into Dean’s hair, and Dean had all but tugged Cas forwards until he was lying across Dean’s chest. Fast kisses morphed into slow tangible dances as their mouths learned what it felt like to be slotted together.

By the time Dean finally pulled back, resting his forehead against Cas’, he was absolutely breathless and his heart was milliseconds from catapulting out of his chest with how fast it was beating.

“What was that for?” Dean whispered, tracing his fingertips from Cas’ hip to the small of his back.

“Because you’re absolutely… Dean, you’re just… indescribable,” Cas murmured, lips ghosting over Dean’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to kiss you all day. You make me happier than I’ve ever been in my entire existence.”

Something in Dean’s chest burned warm and pleasant through his veins, lighting his heart on fire. This whole time, Cas had felt the same way he did. God. He’d have kissed Cas breathless over those chocolate pancakes had he known that Cas wanted it, too.

Cas tucked himself more comfortably against his side, and Dean looped his arms loosely around Cas’ back.

“Dean,” Cas whispered, breath tickling along Dean’s neck.

“Hm?” Dean hummed quietly.

“Kiss me again.”

This time it was just sleepy little brushes; lips ever-so-softly coming together in chaste touches as they kissed. When Cas pulled back, he muttered something about the botanical gardens and how happy he was. The words were muffled into the collar of Dean’s shirt, and Dean felt the shift as Cas drifted off to sleep in his arms.

When sleep finally caught up to Dean after he spent several long minutes committing this perfect day to his memory, it was with the taste of Cas still lingering against his lips and the feel of Cas’ body pressed against his own.

461 notes · View notes

navalcriminalimagines · 3 years

Note

Can you write another/the following part of "Oh, you're jealous"?

This is going to become a smut series. There's so much more to come! 👀

Warnings: pure smut, dom!Gibbs, boobjob, fingering, bathroom sex, orgasm denial, anal talk

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra

NCIS Discord server: https://discord.gg/7YDHXd3q

Yes, sir

You didn't stop the flirting, you actually increased it. Gibbs wasn't really jealous anymore, because he knew why you did it, but he'd play along. It would give him the right to punish you once he took you home and boy, did he have many ideas in mind.

He watched you dance with Tony. Your body was extremely close to his, he could see his Agent enjoying how your hips were swaying against his. It wasn't really fair for Tony, he clearly had a crush on you. But Gibbs also knew the man would have another crush by the following week.

When you walked to the counter to order another drink, you felt Gibbs's body pressing against yours. "You fucking brat." he growled in your ear, causing you to laugh. "After that drink, you're done. I want your head to be clear enough for what will happen when we get home."

"Who said I was coming home with you tonight?" you grabbed your drink that the bartender put in front of you and thanked him. You were discreetly grinding your ass against Gibbs's crotch and you could feel a consequent bulge in his pants. Before you could take a sip of your drink, he grabbed the glass from your hand, drank it all and took your hand in his.

Gibbs didn't care much if people saw the two of you entering the restroom. Actually, he hoped some people did. Especially men, that may think what a damn lucky bastard he was. Cause he fucking was.

He had a plan and he was going to stick with it. He pinned you against the wall and worked on your jeans. He didn't even bother to kiss you. "You're gonna regret everything you did tonight." He looked deep in your eyes, you were sure he could see your soul. You were pouting, waiting for a fierce kiss that never came.

Gibbs slid his hand into your panties and you jolted at the physical contact. "I hope DiNozzo didn't make you this wet." He said, with a husky voice and you shook your head no. "Tell me who's responsible for this." It was an order. You struggled to form words as he was rubbing your sensitive clit. "Y/N." He was still waiting. He wouldn't get further unless you talked.

"You-- That's all you." you finally said, throwing your head back against the wall. You tried to touch him, his arms, his chest, anything but he slapped your hands away.

"Don't make me handcuff you."

You had never been handcuff before and that idea did things to you. But maybe for another time, you weren't sure you could handle it right now. So, you inhaled intensely and kept your arms along your body.

As a reward, Gibbs entered a thick finger in your wet cunt, still rubbing your clit with his thumb. You moaned from the back of your throat and a smirk appeared on Gibbs's face, but you didn't see it as your eyes were closed.

You were so wet, he could easily entered another thick finger inside your core. "Fuck, Jethro--" you moaned and he took it as an invitation to go faster. "Yes! Right there, keep going!"

Gibbs fingerfucked you there in the bathroom of a bar. It didn't matter how loud you were, thanks to the music. He stared at you losing it under his touch and he loved every second of it.

You could feel an orgasm building inside your belly, you wrapped your hand against his wrist, digging your nails in his skin. When you were about to explode, Gibbs completely withdraw his hand from your panties and you let out a loud whine.

He smiled and sucked the fingers that was just inside you, tasting your essence. "I hate you." you complained. You wanted to beg him to keep going but it would be so easy.

"I told you, Y/N. This is just the beginning," he said, before closing the distance between your bodies. He kissed you intensely, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips. "Until I say otherwise, you're not allow to touch yourself. Am I clear?"

"Yes, sir." you swallowed thickly.

"Good girl." he smirked and kissed you again, before exiting the bathroom.

You went back to the dancefloor. An orgasm denial was new to you, and you could feel how sensitive you were just by dancing. You kept looking at Gibbs from the corner of your eyes. The man was sitting with Fornell, talking but he was staring at you all along. "Man, she's not going to disappear, you can stop looking at her."

"Jealous much, Fornell?" Gibbs teased him.

"Well, I do wish I had someone to take to the bathroom. Details?"

*****

The car ride to Gibbs's place felt like an eternity. Before he drove off, he ordered you to open your jeans and touched yourself just lightly. You weren't allow to enter a finger inside your wet cunt, just rubbing your clit. But you were oversensitive already, just waiting to explode. When Gibbs sensed that you were close to cum, he grabbed your wrist - not so gently - to make you stop immediately. You whined again and he laughed.

"Poor thing." he teased.

He held your hand in his, rubbing small circles on your knuckles with his thumb. It was such a tender gesture, it made your heart melt, momentarily forgetting your orgasm denial. "I love you, Jethro." you said, not being able to stop yourself.

Since it's one long seat in his truck, he used his free arm to pull you against him. He took his eyes off the road just enough to kiss your temple. "I love you, too, Y/N." he whispered.

*****

Once inside his house, you didn't waste anytime and jumped in his arms. He chuckled, before responding to your needy kiss.

It required a lot of self control for Gibbs not to fuck you senseless right here, right now. He wanted to make you cum hard on his cock, making you losing control under him but that wasn't the plan.

Still kissing you intensely, he took you to the bedroom. He threw you on the bed nonchalantly. "Strip." he ordered you.

You stood on the bed and undressed yourself right in front of him. He looked at you like a lion looking at its prey. You could feel yourself dripping between your legs. It would only take a bit of stimulation to make you cum hard.

When you were completely naked, Gibbs grabbed your ankles and flipped you on the bed. In a second, you were laying on your back and he pushed on your knees to spread your legs. Your pussy was shiny from wetness and he licked his lips.

He dived in and gently licked your sensitive clit. You jolted immediately and Gibbs smirked. He made himself comfortable between your legs and started to eat you like a starving man. He alternately licked and sucked hard on your clit before putting his tongue inside your core. He tried to push it as far as he could, fucking you with it.

You were completely worked up. Gibbs felt you tensing pretty quickly. "Absolutely delicious." he growled. He had only pulled away for a brief second to talk but you instantly bucked your hips, looking for friction. He chuckled, and buried his tongue inside you again.

"Yes, Jethro! Please, don't stop!" you moaned, ready to cum on his face.

But he pulled away. "Damn you, Gibbs!" you cried.

"You don't deserve to the relief yet. You spent the entire day making me jealous, remember?" He moved to get on top of you and kissed you deeply.

“I’d apologize but I know about Rule 6 and— I do not regret it.”

“You just postponed your relief.” You looked at him with questioning eyes, but he just smirked again.

Laying by your side, he explained the rules for the next days. First, he repeated what he said at the bar: you were not allow to touch yourself in his back. Then, he made sure you remembered the safe word. And he let you what he had planned: he was going to edge you for days, you would be begging him like you never begged before. Meanwhile, he’d use you when he wants, how he wants. “Are you okay with it?”

“Yes. God yes. Use me.” You kissed him. “I’m all yours.” You whispered.

“That’s my good girl.” He kissed you more passionately, grabbing your hips to put you on top of him. You could feel the bulge in his pants, his cock was waiting to be freed and taken care of.

Unfortunately, you may cum uncontrollably if he fucked you. He wanted it. He wanted to bury himself deep inside you and fill you up with his cum and then fucking his load back in you again. But that was too risky for the plan. Especially since you just agreed to it.

Gibbs had never done anything like this. Not that his sex life had been simple or boring, but he always had limits. Probably because he knew his past partners were into all of this. But you were different. You were open-minded, ready to try anything at least once, and damn, you were so needy with him, always wet and ready for him, he felt like a fucking god. He never felt that before.

You loved sex. But sex with Gibbs, that was beyond loving it. You were craving for him, all day everyday. The man turns you on by just existing, it's too much sometimes.

"Ever tried anal?" He asked, as you were grinding against his rock hard cock.

"No... you?"

"Neither. My exes thought it was--" you kissed him to make him shut up.

"I don't give a shit about your exes. I wanna try it."

That thought only almost sent Gibbs over the edge. Thinking about his cock stretching your hole, feeling how tight you are around him, cuming deep inside your ass, and if he added the fact that he'd be the first, that was a lot. He grunted deeply under your touch. "You like that idea, don't you?" you teased him.

"We will go over the ground rules later, but for now, you're going to make me cum on those perfect tits."

"Yes."

"Yes, who?"

"Yes, sir." you smiled and kissed you one more time before going further down.

You took his pants off him, along with his briefs. He was painfully hard, you could see some precum coming out of the head. You licked it just lightly and he moaned. You gave him a few strokes with your hand before placing his cock between your breasts.

You pressed them around his length and started to go up and down. You could tell from the noises Gibbs was making that he wasn't far. You kept going, taking the head in your mouth a few times. "Fuck, you're perfect, sweetheart." he growled. "I'm gonna cum."

You went as fast as you could, until he tensed under you. You felt his hot load on your chest and chin, as he cried your name. You looked at him coming and it was a freaking hot sight. You've never seen him losing it like this before. He looked even more perfect than he already was.

You laid on his side as he was catching his breath. He looked at you with such loving eyes, you wanted this moment to last forever.

He cleaned his mess on your skin with his fingers and brought them to your mouth. You opened it, sticking out your tongue and sucked his fingers clean. "How are you feeling down there?" he teased you.

"Bite me. I need a fucking shower."

Gibbs followed you to the bathroom and you two showered together.

There was some very long days ahead for you.

#gibbs smut #leroy jethro gibbs #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs #gibbs #agent gibbs #ncis imagines #ncis fandom #ncis fiction #ncis reader insert #ncis x reader #ncis fanfiction

517 notes · View notes

robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

🍊🍋Wen Chao and/or wen xu is a good guy and actually wants to end wen ruo jan's reign of terror (cloud recesses, lotus pier, xuanwu cave or all are elaborate ruses)

ao3

Untamed

“A-Chao,” Wen Xu said. “I think our father is insane.”

Wen Chao’s eye twitched visibly, his shoulders rising up to his ears. “You can’t say that! That’s treason!”

“I’ve already made sure there’s no one anywhere around us right now, not even people I trust.”

Down went the shoulders.

“Of course he’s insane,” Wen Chao said. “Some of his orders recently…”

He shook his head.

“Not much of an empire to rule if they’re all ghost puppets, is there?” he concluded. “I think the Yin Metal is poisoning his brain.”

“I agree,” Wen Xu said. “Now what do we do about it? He’s just ordered me to raze the Cloud Recesses.”

“…when you say raze –”

“To the ground.”

“What happened to just dominating the rest of the cultivation world?” Wen Chao complained. “I liked that plan. I was going to have a really great life. A palace. Servants. Good food. Even better wine. Enough clothing to keep Jiaojiao from complaining.”

“I…don’t know if that’s possible,” Wen Xu said. “Haven’t you given her three closets’ worth already?”

“I have no idea, and I’m too attached to my balls to ask.”

“Anyway,” Wen Xu said. “What do we do about it?”

“You’re asking me?” Wen Chao said.

“Well I’m certainly not going up against him by myself! He’ll kill me!”

“You think he would hesitate to kill both of us?”

“Ugh. Is there anyone we can ask for help? Anyone we haven’t pissed off?”

They both paused, thinking.

“…no,” Wen Chao said. “But in our defense, we never thought we’d need any of them, did we?”

“I don’t think anyone is going to buy that as an excuse,” Wen Xu said, scowling. “Fuck. Isn’t there anyone?”

“Well,” Wen Chao said. He did not continue.

“No,” Wen Xu said. “No. He literally wants to cut off our heads.”

“So does everyone else in the cultivation world,” Wen Chao said. “At least we know Sect Leader Nie hates Dad more than he hates us, which isn’t something that can be said about the rest of them.”

“Fuck,” Wen Xu said. “What’s our alternative plan?”

“…become ghost puppets?”

“Fuck.”

-

“You do remember that I want to kill you both?” Nie Mingjue said, scowling at them.

“We were betting on you wanting to kill our father more,” Wen Chao said.

“I’m not sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “You’re very obnoxious.”

Wen Chao scowled.

“He has a point, A-Chao,” Wen Xu said.

“Shut up.”

“Respect your elders!”

“If you two are going to start fighting, I’m leaving,” Nie Mingjue said.

They both squinted at him. “Does that mean you might not leave if we stop?” Wen Xu asked.

Nie Mingjue’s scowl got even worse, but eventually he begrudgingly said “…well, I really hate your father.”

They both exhaled in relief.

“What’s your plan?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“This was about as far as it went,” Wen Xu admitted, and Nie Mingjue gaped at him. “What? If we had planning skills, we’d be ruling the world.”

“Jiaojiao wants jewelry now,” Wen Chao agreed. “Lots of it. Keeping a mistress is expensive.”

“I’ll…take your word for that,” Nie Mingjue said, looking mildly uncomfortable.

“You’re always plotting against our father, right?” Wen Xu asked.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said. “If I could plot, your father would already be dead.”

“Good point,” Wen Chao said, but he wasn’t the sort of person to let little details like that discourage him. “But surely you know someone who can?”

“Just keep in mind that I’m on a deadline here,” Wen Xu said. “I have to leave to go raze the Cloud Recesses by the end of the week.”

“You want me to come up with a plan to defeat your father before the end of the week?!”

“Uh, yeah,” Wen Xu said. “That’s what I said, wasn’t it?”

“It was,” Wen Chao agreed.

“I’m going to go get Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue decided. “And Huaisang, too, why not, somehow he always gets his way no matter what I do. Maybe he can come up with something for this.”

-

“I think we’re going to need expert assistance,” Nie Huaisang declared. “I’m thinking this is Wei Wuxian levels of plotting.”

“He can plot?” Wen Chao said dubiously. “Are you sure? He took nearly a week to fight a mildly ominous bird.”

“…is that so?” Nie Huaisang said, and sighed. “Okay, fine. Meng Yao, guess it’s up to you and me.”

Meng Yao was blinking his eyes very rapidly.

“What?” Wen Chao said. “You have an awful father too, don’t look so shocked about us wanting to get rid of ours.”

“That’s just how his brain works when he’s thinking,” Nie Huaisang assured him. “He’s kicking it like it’s a sleeping donkey that doesn’t want to get to work; give him a minute and he’ll be coming up with all sorts of ideas.”

“Good ideas?”

“All sorts of ideas.”

“…any good ideas? Mediocre ideas, even?”

“Listen, we have until the end of the week,” Nie Mingjue said irritably. “You’ll take whatever ideas we give you and you’ll like it, you hear me?”

“Is it too late to get Wen Zhuliu in on this?” Wen Xu asked Wen Chao.

“He has that weird thing for Dad,” Wen Chao reminded him.

“Fuck,” Wen Xu said. “I’d wiped that from my memory through the application of a great deal of alcohol, but yes, you’re right. Okay. Hit me with your worst plan.”

-

“That’s worse than I thought it was going to be.”

“Shut up and just do it.”

-

“I will now, in the name of the Wen sect, attack –” Wen Xu grimaced. “– this cave.”

“It’s a very important cave, actually,” one of the Lan disciples muttered.

“Be quiet,” Lan Wangji said.

They were all pretending not to notice the main force of Lan sect disciples, led by Lan Xichen, carting their precious books and treasures out of the Cloud Recesses right behind him.

“I am attacking this very important cave,” Wen Xu clarified. “Of extreme importance to the Lan sect. So important, in fact, that it is clearly the correct target for an invasion.”

They stood around a while longer.

Someone cleared their throat. “Should we fight?”

“I can have my men beat you up if you really want,” Wen Xu said.

“…no thanks.”

“Then be quiet.”

There was a bit more standing around. Eventually Lan Qiren coughed.

“Would you like a chair or something?” Wen Xu asked, then frowned. “Never mind, I probably can’t justify that.”

“Probably not,” Lan Qiren agreed. He looked pained. Probably by the whole situation, but who knew, maybe he just had a bad back and the standing around was getting to him. “You will be taking Wangji hostage after this?”

“Along with most of the heirs of the Great Sects,” Wen Xu said. “As agreed, we’ll keep them out of the way.”

“Sometimes the most dangerous place is the safest place.”

“…yeah, that. Either way, they’ll be kept out of trouble.”

-

“This is not out of trouble!” Wei Wuxian shouted as they ran away from the Xuanwu.

“This stretch of river has never caused anyone any problems!” Wen Chao shouted back. “Ever! You’re the one who found the fucking cave!”

“Shut up and keep running!” Jiang Cheng howled.

-

“I really like your hair,” Wang Lingjiao told Madame Yu. “Also, that dress.”

Wen Chao sighed.

“Expensive tastes?” Wei Wuxian asked, pouring him some wine.

“You have no idea,” Wen Chao said glumly. “My allowance can’t cover it, so I ended up putting her as a line item in the military budget.”

“You did?” Jiang Cheng said. “Did your father, uh, object?”

“He’d have to notice.”

“I wonder how many other things he wouldn’t notice,” Wei Wuxian muttered to himself.

“You’re a young master of Yunmeng Jiang,” Jiang Cheng said, rolling his eyes. “What could you possibly want to fund that we won’t pay for?”

“I don’t know,” Wei Wuxian said. “Mad science experiments?”

-

“Can you pay him to stop?” Wen Xu asked. “I don’t even like flute music.”

“Shut up,” Wen Chao said. “You’ve been decapitated, remember?”

“Oh yeah, ‘decapitated’. And now I’m being force-fed lots of Qinghe barbeque,” Wen Xu said. “My life is really hard.”

“Why you…!”

Wen Xu sniggered. “How’s it going with Wen Zhuliu?”

“Fine, I think?” Wen Chao said. “He hasn’t actually noticed that the ‘demons’ we’re being hunted by aren’t really demons, but that’s because he’s been mostly drinking away his weird crush on our dad. I think Wen Ning is spiking his drink with something.”

They both turned to look at Wen Ning, who shrugged.

“Couldn’t have happened to a nicer person,” Wen Xu decided. “Are they attacking the Nightless City soon?”

“I think so.”

“What happens then?”

“Dunno.”

“Going to be kind of awkward when we ‘come back from the dead’ to take over.”

“I’m going to blame it on Wei Wuxian and his new weirdo cultivation,” Wen Chao decided. “We’re all sentient corpses he’s resurrected and using to puppet the Wen sect. Wen Ning, you in on this?”

“…sure,” Wen Ning said. “But only if I get first rights on ‘Ghost General’ as a nickname.”

“Oh, that’s a good one.”

-

“Thanks for the patricide,” Wen Xu said.

“Think nothing of it,” Nie Mingjue said. “Also, say nothing of it. Ever. In fact, let’s never talk again.”

“Can’t do that,” Wen Chao said. “Madame Yu told Jiaojiao that she got that fancy headpiece from Qinghe, so she wants to go there on a shopping trip.”

“Our economy could use the boost, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and Nie Mingjue sighed. “It’s going to be a really big boost. Especially if she convinces Madame Jin from Lanling to come with her.”

“I still can’t believe they made friends,” Wei Wuxian marveled. “It must come from having more money than brains.”

“Brains aren’t exactly what I look for in a partner,” Wen Chao said. “Luckily for you, neither does your boyfriend.”

“Hey, I have brains!”

“You’re certainly intelligent,” Meng Yao – now named Jin Guangyao – told him.

“See?”

“That was an insult,” Nie Mingjue said.

“…hey!”

“When are you coming back to Qinghe?” Nie Huaisang asked Jin Guangyao, who blinked. “I mean, unless you want to spend all your time slaving away for a guy who thought Wen Ruohan was neat.”

“He’s right,” Wen Xu said. “Father or not, don’t do it. It’s not worth it. You’ll end up having to rebel and ask your worst enemies for help and it’s awkward.”

“I appreciate the offer,” Jin Guangyao said. “But I really can’t accept.”

“Why not?” Nie Huaisang asked.

Wen Chao pointed at him. “Seconded.”

Jin Guangyao grimaced at them both. Possibly it was meant to be a smile.

“You don’t have to go to the Unclean Realm, A-Yao,” Lan Xichen said.

“Thank you, er-ge.”

“You can come to the Cloud Recesses instead.”

“Er-ge…”

“Did anyone ever tell the Jin sect that we were working with the Wen heirs?” Nie Mingjue wondered out loud, and everyone frowned. “Because if they don’t know, and Jin Guangshan thinks he’s being subtle with the whole trying to hire Xue Yang thing, things are going to get really awkward.”

“…well, shit,” Jiang Cheng said. “I call not being the one to tell him.”

“Seconded!”

“Cloud Recesses, you said?” Jin Guangyao asked Lan Xichen, who looked pleased.

“I’m leaving,” Wen Xu decided. “I want nothing to do with this disaster. You all have fun now, I’m fucking off back to the Nightless City to live the rest of my life as a very rich man with no life goals.”

“I want to do that,” Nie Huaisang said.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said.

“But –”

“No.”

“Hey,” Wei Wuxian said. “Unrelatedly, anyone have any ideas on what should I do with the whole resentful energy seal thing now?”

“I don’t know,” Wen Chao said. “Play a giant game of keep away with it and then fake your own death?”

#mdzs #wen xu #wen chao #nie mingjue #nie huaisang #jin guangyao #wei wuxian #lan qiren #my fic #my fics #mutiny at the wen sect #Anonymous

486 notes · View notes

bestruction · 3 years

Text

How it’d be to watch animes with them

A/N: While i’m working on my Mikasa x reader royal au, this little idea came to my mind. I tried to put the links when i mentioned a specific scene and speak a little about the anime in case you don’t know it. So here it’s:

Warnings: Me exposing my otaku self, mentions of 18+ animes (Not hentais)

Tumblr media

Tumblr media

Eren - Kaguya-sama wa Kokurasetai: Tensai-tachi no Renai Zunousen (13+)

A / N: The main characters like each other, but none wants to confess because being the person who takes the first step would also represent being the defeated person. The anime develops in a series of plans that both elaborate to make the other confess their love.

Warnings: None

It was his idea to watch an anime together since the two of you liked it a lot. You saw no harm and agreed to go to sleep with your boyfriend on Friday night. So, you would have the dawn and the weekend to see everything.

“We could watch One piece! Everybody likes"

“In three days ?! We will not finish even if we do not take breaks ”

"Naruto then?"

“Haven't you seen it all five times or more?

"But it is a classic!"

"It is also too long!"

He would sulk when he saw you reject each of his suggestions for being too big animes. The truth was, he was trying to convince you to stay longer. After much searching in the catalog, you choose to watch a short comedy of 12 episodes.

Biggest mistake ever

Eren is already annoying by nature, and after watching Kaguya-sama's two seasons he would spend the day and night trying to get you to confess to him EVEN IF YOU'VE BEEN IN LOVE FOR TWO YEARS AND HE HAS BEEN THE FIRST TO DECLARE. HIT HIM, PLEASE.

"Do you think that using such a low trick will make me give in?"

“Eren, I just got out of the shower. What trick? Wear an outfit? ”

“Showing off your skin won't make you win”

If you wanted to play with him, great. You are going to spend the day in this little game until he gets tired and just hugs you or something because he can't spend a lot of time without touching you. But if you didn't want to, just you could use that touchy side of him against him too.

"Maybe I shouldn't show you anything else then"

"Yes, of course, do- Wait what?"

"You heard"

“NO, BABE! YOU WON! I CONFESS! I LOVE YOU"

Watching anime with him would be quite an experience. For being very verbal, Eren would be the type of person who doesn't shut up watching anything. Especially, something that makes him laugh. You would see him laughing out loud and throwing himself back on the couch or on you, whether you were with him or not. You may even complain, but it would be fun to see him react to everything as immediately and naturally as an unfiltered child.

He will sing ALL the openings for the rest of the days around the house until you are humming some without realizing it.

For some reason, can I imagine him doing Chika dance ?? Yes, please film this big bear dancing like a little girl.

Tumblr media

Levi - Death parade

A / N: Do you want to cry and hurt yourself? This is the right place. Death Parade is a story about what happens after death. The characters are sent to mysterious bars where they will be judged to decide the fate of the souls themselves. (18+)

Warnings: Suicide, depressive themes, mentions of rape and domestic violence

I don't see Levi watching many animes. In fact, I don't see him watching much anything at all. He would be the type of person who can't spend a lot of time in front of the television without feeling like he's wasting time. Which would result in a very selective and demanding taste.

He would always read the reviews about the film, and after watching it, he would make his own. Ever. No exceptions. Unlike Impossible-to-be-quiet-Eren, Levi would be silent to be able to capture and understand all the details. This is interesting because getting his attention is a difficult task. But once it's done, he is 100% focused on the story and immersed in the characters.

So, after reading about it, he would agree to watch Death Parade with you.

He would have low expectations at first, and if the anime failed to hold his very difficult attention in three episodes, he wouldn't even try with the rest.

So when in the first episode, all suspense and doubts left to the viewer entered Ackerman's head, he would finish the other 11 without realizing it.

As a rational person, he would love things that make him think and reflect on the proposed theme. In the case: Life and death.

For some reason, I imagine him as someone who would like to study and read philosophy as a hobby and that he would love Nietzsche? So, you could expect deep conversations after each episode.

But without any arrogance, humanity's strongest soldier might not be the most talkative man in humanity, but surely when he opened his mouth to it, it wouldn’t be to show himself off with something that he knows and you don’t. On the contrary, he would be more than happy to explain if you asked and added your opinion.

He wouldn't cry, but he would be touched by the way the emotions were shown and created in the characters.

He would probably see the scene where Decim cries more than once for being impressed with how the pain of a character who is supposedly not flesh and blood is expressed so well.

And after the anime is over, you would always see him listening to the music of the ice skating scene around the house while doing something.

When you were finished watching everything, you would talk again about the anime. You lying on his chest and he touching his hair, smelling him.

"Do you believe in reincarnation, Levi?"

“If so, I wouldn't go back to this shit a second time. No matter what they offered me ”

"Levi!"

"Unless it was to have you again"

“What a cliché” He would roll his eyes after hearing your response “But I like clichés”

Again, he wouldn't cry, but he would be thinking about how ephemeral things can be, including being alive. Then you can expect a more touchy Levi for a few days.

Tumblr media

Jean - Banana Fish

N / A: Another one to cry and get hurt. Banana Fish is way more than just a story about one character just is hard to define. So in case, you didn’t watch it, here’s the trailer. (18+)

warnings: pedophilia, rape, violence, drugs, your heart being destroyed

You know that guy who says that no yaoi is good, it's just a way to feed a bunch of fujoshi and stuff like that? Jean. It's him. I just know it. So when you suggested Banana Fish and said it was a BL / yaoi, he would probably laugh and ignore the idea.

But after insisting a little and showing him the many compliments that both the anime and the manga received, he would accept.

At first, he wouldn't pay much attention. He really thought it would be just another bad anime. But by the end of the first episode, he would be too involved in the story to stop.

I think he would love crime novels for the same reason that Levi: To think. Try to find out how things are going to end and pick up any clues that the author has left about the ending. So the plot would hold him so much because he would make a ton of theories about the end.

He will ship Ash and Eiji with all his soul. I mean, how can he not ship? To see an anime in which the physical touch between the couple doesn't really happen and still builds a well-developed and healthy relationship would be a new experience for him.

Jean is somewhat similar to Eren in this respect. So you can expect to see him huffing in anger, cursing one of the characters, throwing a pillow away, or using it to hide a tear or two that he would let go of you. The kind of person who gets emotionally involved with the things he watches.

He would cry an entire river after watching the last episode and deny it later.

“I was not crying. The cushion fabric made my eyes itch a lot ”

Show him again and he will cry the same amount and intensity

Tumblr media

Armin - Haikyuu

A / N: Considering all the texts on Tumblr for haikyuu characters, I’m pretty sure you know what anime it’s lol (10+)

Armin is an otaku with a license card and no one can change my mind. He would probably start watching it as a child. So, his first animes would be everyone's classics: Naruto, Dragon Ball Z, Bleach, etc.

So it would be normal that as the vast majority, he would continue to have a preference for shounen when he grew up. So it would be your idea to see Haikyuu.

He would have low expectations because he thought it would be just another anime with cute characters for everyone to be thirsty as an inverted harem. And also because the synopsis does not create a strong impression, especially for those who consume shounen daily.

"So we are just gonna see a little boy trying to catch a ball?"

“It's gonna be good! Everyone is talking about it now ”

"Does he have some superpower?"

"No"

"Something scary?"

"Armin, just give a chance!"

He would like it. Did I say he would like it? Because he would love it. The atmosphere created and well developed with such a simple plot would hold his attention well. (Is it possible to dislike Hinata in the first episode?)

It would be a great anime for him to watch because 1. It is different from what he usually sees. Unlike shounen, Haikyuu deals only with real and tangible scenarios. Of course, still with that touch of anime, but it is very easy to recognize yourself in the characters and learn from them and therefore reflect on yourself as well.

It would be great to make him think about his own insecurities and how most of them were inside his head.

He would be so immersed in the anime universe that he would have to pause the game scenes because he would be too nervous waiting for the ball to fall.

You will probably see him taking a deep breath in each drawing scene of the characters and see him truly cheering for the team as if it were a real national game.

More than that, you will see his eyes full of tears when Yamaguchi hit the serve in the match against Aoba johsai.

In fact, Yamaguchi would be his favorite character. No discussions.

"I said it would be good"

"Shut up"

"Make me"

Tumblr media

Mikasa - Heaven’s official blessing

A / N: I'm going to leave the trailer here because I don't know how to define it very well. It's a novel, but the story doesn't focus ONLY on that. (14+)

Okay, you didn't suggest. She did not suggest. So how do you end up watching together? You catch her watching when you come home by surprise lol

Until then, you would know that she watched some anime, but nothing romantic. Never. In fact, that was her little secret.

Although common sense is that Mikasa would be cold even in a modern au (and I agree in parts). I think she would be the type of person who loves to see the sweetest and softest things to melt alone on the couch without anyone seeing. A moment for herself and a part of her that she would not show to anyone.

You would already know about her romantic side, but seeing her under the covers sighing while watching the Netflix special episode is a totally different story.

Please don’t mock her!!. She would be red enough by the time she was discovered.

When she was less shy, she would ask if you want to watch with her. She would say she saw no problem watching it with you again since doing it with you would be a different experience.

If you accept, you would spend the rest of the night in the room sharing a blanket and absorbing the soft atmosphere, the soundtrack, and the Chinese culture so present in history.

She would not speak a lot because she was paying attention, but she would hug you all the time. In the romantic scenes, she would tighten her arms around you a little and sometimes left a kiss on your shoulder.

I think she could relate to Hua Cheng's way of loving. He is always there to protect, care for and see his lover even if sometimes Xie Lian doesn't even know.

And that is what she wants to show you, that more than a girlfriend, she is also someone you can count on.

Days later, you will see her reading the rest of the work around the house because she couldn't stand to wait for a second season.

And later, SURELY melting and vibrating while watching Mo Dao Zu Shi.

255 notes · View notes

timextoxhajima · 3 years

Text

The Boyz as things and feelings (just cause)

this is a small thing @haechanhues needed help with so i decided to make it an actual post uwu [this is gonna be pretty long cause i might write little scenarios]

[THE BOYZ AS THINGS AND FEELINGS]

SANGYEON - MIRRORS AND PILLOWS

Tumblr media

mirrors make a place look bigger than it really is - i feel like sangyeon has that ability to make you feel like you’re more important on your worst days

the things he’ll do just to make sure you’re alright, even when he knows you’re not

he also has the ability to reflect what you need: sad? he’ll come and hug you and let you cry or talk about your shitty day. happy? he’ll joke about the way you snort while laughing then he’d probably do something dumb to keep the energy up there

mirrors also feel very private and at-home, and that exactly how i feel he curates an environment

pillows are self-explanatory ig, smth to cry into, smth to fall asleep with while hugging, has the best homely scents ever, very comfortable

i imagine going home after a long day and finding your partner also tired, but he’s cooking or like in the couch watching tv and he just invites you into his arms uwu

“tell me about everything! whatever that makes you happy or sad and i’ll try my best to be who you need at that point of time!”

JACOB - FLOWERS AND MUSIC

Tumblr media

ok like jacob with a guitar is just a stellar sight to behold, he looks like he was born to hold one, and his vocals are super underrated imo, most of tbz’s discography doesnt really suit his voice - i really wish he had a chance to have more lines in more ballads or maybe even a solo thing

he would drag you out to go on walks after he knows you’ve buried yourself in your work the whole day, and he’d be the kind to stop at a pretty flower and contemplate plucking it but he wouldn’t cause he’s a fairy and wouldn’t hurt a fly, much less a pretty flower

would probably play a piece in the background while you’re stressed w work and hum a tune so the singing wouldn’t distract you

would stop when he notices you stopped working and your sad ass is probably crying lmao

he’s a very soft and gentle man imo

he’s the innocent daisy amidst other bright colored, flamboyant flowers but he still stands out

“i’ll grow you a rose bush in the yard so i don’t have to be sad about plucking flowers next time.”

YOUNGHOON - WINTER COATS AND COFFEE AND PASTRIES

Tumblr media

he definitely radiates tsundere vibes on first sight, but when you get to know him, he’s obviously the opposite: a crybaby

but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t keep up his model-like appearances when he’s outside - in fact, he’d be the one to influence you into caring more about how you look (of course not materialistically, but more into actually caring about making yourself feel good with your fashion and appearance)

i chose winter coats as a symbol of coverage - he doesn’t show much of himself unless he’s close to you (like when you wear winter coats to keep warm, he’s a burrito because he doesn’t bother too much about sharing his feelings), but when he does, it feels like he has the ability to keep you warm and comfortable, even on the coldest days, even if his inner savage comes out

it’ll be like he scooped you into his coat and has you warm in one of this inner breast pockets

i see him as the kind to get regular coffee and like, a tart or something, at a cafe. it adds on to the warmth, when he remembers what you like. the details. maybe you like your coffee with cinnamon or less sugar or something, but then he tops it up with a muffin and he knows you like it heated up so he specifically asks for them to do so

ok but he’s defo the kind of guy that catches people’s attention at public spaces so every now and then when he’s laughing or smiling, some girl would gawk at him and he would be embarrassed about it, but lucky for you, you’re already wearing matching coats so they know the man’s taken uwu

“if only they knew how long it took to convince you to wear that coat.”

HYUNJAE - CONCERTS AND CONVENIENCE STORE DATES

Tumblr media

classy but calm. dream-like but realistic.

i say concerts as in the instrumental, ballad kinds. he loves it and he knows you probably need the sleep where you have that kind of background white noise/music that provides you the best quality of sleep there is. but when you’re not dosing off, he’s admiring how much time you’re willing to invest into being at something he loves

of course, in turn, he doesn’t complain much when you’re hungry and you meet him down the street at the nearest convenience store for some instant noodles and potato chips with a coke and he lets you ramble about your day

he would probably buy you an ice cream just so you’d feel better, then regret it when you get a stomachache later cause it was like 2am in the morning

you probably have like 5 of his hoodies at home that you refuse to wash cause his scent is tainted all over it and the only time he gets to take them home is when he stays over or visits and he sneaks one into his bag when you’re in the kitchen making tea or a bowl of noodles

then you’ll get it back without even knowing it was gone

the kind that would probably surprise you after a day of work with a casual date idea to the movies, and i mean showing up at your place, impromptu, after he knows you’re home with two tickets

“act like my girlfriend for once and go on a date with me, would you? your work isn’t going to be there with you when you die at 90.”

JUYEON - STARGAZING AND VR GAMES

Tumblr media

as dumb and sometimes bimbotic as he seems he is, he’s gotten most of the visible constellations memorised and he would not hesitate from telling you all about his childhood with his family when they would travel and try to spot every single constellation they can remember

which brings me to the point where he remembers what you like, but... backhandedly. he doesn’t remember what you like but he remembers what you hate instead, so you don’t ever have to worry about getting that licorice flavoured jelly bean

he would offer a midnight walk to help you relieve your stress, cause he knows you just like seeing the nightsky amidst the peace and quiet while he rambles on for his own satisfaction. not everything has to be so emotionally attached and shared. you can share blissful moments without being the reason for each other’s and that’s totally fine.

juyeon is kind of a scaredy cat in the sense that he isn’t really into horror movies or games but he’s always had that dream to become a pilot and so for his birthday, you brought him to a vr game arcade where he played some plane simulator and ever since, you’ve been taking turns to surprise each other with a new vr arcade spot or adding on to the vr game console set you have at home

“maybe i should digitalise you so i can see you in the vr game”

KEVIN - KARAOKE SESSIONS AND NEON LIGHTS

Tumblr media

the best-friend kind of partner you would come across once in a lifetime

a billion film shots of you after he drags you to the karaoke and he beats you at super intense songs like the bohemian rhapsody just cause he can hit those high notes and solely because he was screaming on the floor when he did it

almost left his film camera behind

absolutely LOVES those walks along streets where there are a million neon lights

would come across that one sus neon light signs that indicate a sex toy store and he would give you that sly smile and probably joke for you to go in

kevin has a moon neon light in his room and you have a star or something (whatever you want)

corrects your grammar and pronunciation, only for you two to bicker about it even more when you use google translation and there are different pronunciations depending on where/what accent you’re using

he really is your light in the dark, even if he’s known to be introverted. once he’s comfortable enough with you, he makes you feel like the most important person in the world

has one of those portable speaker microphones at home and he drones on and on and on with some billie eilish song until you hurl a pillow at him

“so you’re the tough girl, like it really rough girl, justcan’tgetenoughofkevingirl, chest always so puffed girl”

CHANHEE - DUETS AND STRAWBERRY PICKING

Tumblr media

(i could not find a more candid, softer aesthetic pic for chanhee rip)

his entire wardrobe fits you - the only problem is that he’ll never let you wear it in fear that you’d stain or tear something

shared playlists because that’s how similar your taste in music is, and so sometimes when you have your earpiece in and you’re humming the melody of that song, chanhee picks it up immediately despite not hearing that song, and ends up harmonising with you

got kicked out of the library once or twice because it was exam period and the two of you won’t shut up

ironically doesn’t sing that much if you’re not around

chanhee is a true blue introvert - which is a miracle that you’ve managed to tear through that barrier of his and find out that he giggles at every stupid thing you do: he’s having a bad day? trip over the pavement. he’ll laugh. it works

dragging him out to go strawberry picking was so difficult - but of course chanhee isn’t safe from how beautiful and enticing the fresh fruits were.

didn’t touch anything strawberry flavoured OR any strawberries for the next month or so

his straightforwardness comes with the breakdown of his barrier - but that’s what brings you comfort. he will never lie, he will only be sarcastic and even then, you’d know it’s true

i used duets as a symbol of harmony and being in-sync, though never really exactly the same, and that’s how it is with chanhee. your thoughts are very similar even though he’s much more introverted than you, but that’s what binds you

“i’m gonna tell the librarian i don’t know you if we get kicked out again.”

CHANGMIN - CITY TOURS AND MATCHING OUTFITS

Tumblr media

city tours - the kind that you already know inside out and yet you STILL travel the area as if you were a tourist

that’s exactly how it is with changmin: you know him inside out, after being friends for so long, but it never gets old

you’re used to him biting your hand out of nowhere and yet it startles you all the time. that stupid chucky doll in his living room? old, but it never fails to scare you

he doesn’t ever talk about it that much, but he loves it when you co-ordinate outfits

no, it doesn’t mean you wear couple tees, but it’s aesthetically pleasing to changmin that if he wears cool tones, you would too

he’d be reserved about his thoughts and feelings sometimes but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t think or feel them

there’s a strange sense of familiarity with changmin, because you kind of know what to expect but then you’re never disappointed, you know?

“i got you this white pigeon cause it looks like the one i already got... you can give it back to me if you don’t like it though-” /he takes it before you can accept it/

HAKNYEON - STAND UP COMEDY SHOWS AND RUNNING ALONG THE BEACH

Tumblr media

there’s something about ju that makes it very casual and easy-going

he hates horror genred themes so fuck that, he would queue online just for the latest ali wong comedy show, even if it’s an online show, and he would laugh until he cried

sometimes he’s a drama queen but that makes it alot easier for you to know what he’s thinking or feeling - it makes communication alot easier

that means a lack of arguments

he’s also very empathetic but straightforward, exactly like how comedy shows are - because they are relatable, they are funny because they bring out the irony and sarcasm and all the dumb things in life that people are sometimes afraid of talking about and hak just says whatever he wants to say, even if he knows it might be hurtful or upsetting

he prioritises truth and honesty over anything else

it makes you a better person, honestly

beach walks - very calming, very liberating. he lets you yell and scream and kick sand back into the water because you can, and he does it with you

tries to teach you how to skip rocks but you suck and you can’t so he just pulls you away from the pile of rocks you amassed

“flick your wrist like that, not like you’re meowing!”

SUNWOO - SOCCER FRIENDLIES AND STUDIO SESSIONS

Tumblr media

he will NOT go easy on you in a friendly match: you might be one of the fastest players of the female team but he’s ruthless in his ball-stealing, so even if you were fast enough to keep the ball out of his reach, he’d still be able to snatch it right out between your feet

very, very competitive and does not like to lose

you would always play the ‘ladies first’ card but then he’d throw the ‘feminism’ card back at you

sometimes you act more like siblings than anything else

the only time when he isn’t fuming with competition is if you’re injured because he accidentally tackled you - he’ll gracefully give himself a yellow card before absolutely trashing you in the next match

has one foot into the production game recently - likes to play with the beat board and mixing tunes, and since you’ve had your hand in doing music remixes for a deejay job before, you’re there to identify which songs have the same bass line or beat counts for easier mixing

would make you a playlist of remixes but wouldn’t admit that he spent a whole day in the studio without you just so it would be a surprise

a soft boy stuck in the wraps of an egoistic man

“a day? please. i illegally downloaded half these remixes off the internet cause i’d think you’re too internet-dumb to find them.”

ERIC - BAKING AND SKATEBOARDING

Tumblr media

full of impromptu, casual ideas to hang out

baking is a fucking mess - why did he suggest it when he doesn’t even have the right ingredients?

wanted to replace eggs with water - like ok thats supposedly healthier, but why????????????

he likes cleaning so that was the only fucking bonus in baking - had to call his mom for help halfway through because the cookies looked more like goop than playdough

gave up in the end and he repaid his debt by helping clean your kitchen

tried to teach you how to skateboard, but he ended up falling off his own in the process and now he’s got a grazed knee

the kind of person you’d have so much chaotic fun with, he’s that friend your mom told you to NOT hang out with that much if not you’d get run down by a car

has the most fucking random pieces of clothing in his wardrobe, like where did he even get that pink coat from?

“no you have to do this and like lift up your leg and then kinda rest your weight on it before flicking your ankle and like- whOA- OH OW OHNO OHOHOH OW”

192 notes · View notes

dialovers-translations · 3 years

Text

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu [Track 2]

Tumblr media

Original title: 遠のく心

Source: Diabolik Lovers Daylight Vol. 2 Sakamaki Shuu

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Toriumi Kousuke

Translator’s note: O O F. Shuu is being rather harsh in this, it’s hurting my heart. While I do understand that having someone continuously meddle with your affairs can be annoying, I do wish he was just a little nicer to the MC because she honestly deserves better than to be treated like a walking bloodbag. >( Hopefully he’ll redeem himself in the following tracks.

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5 + Epilogue

→ LIKE MY TRANSLATIONS? SUPPORT ME ON KO-FI!

Track 2: Distancing Hearts

You enter the classroom.

*Rattle*

“...I knew it’d be you.”

You frown.

“Approaching me even at school...You really never learn, do you?”

You ask him what he was up to.

“I considered taking a nap but I had a hunch you would show up sooner or later, so I stayed awake, knowing there’s nothing more frustrating than having you interrupt me right as I get to the best part. I bet you came because one of the teachers asked you?”

You flinch.

“Pretty much spot on, huh? Reiji at home and the teachers at school. Are you really obedient to just about anyone? In that case, why not listen to me as well when I tell you to stop meddling with my affairs?”

You try and explain yourself.

“...Annoying. What will I gain from attending class? Not only is it dull, but I’ll only grow even more sleepy.”

You beg him to return to his classroom.

“I’m not going back. I’m going to take a nap here. If you get what I’m saying, then don’t get in my way.”

You nod.

“...You’re giving up surprisingly quick today. Are you feeling under the weather?”

You shake your head.

“I don’t really care, but it’d be really nice if you could always be like that. It’d save me a lot of trouble.”

You protest.

“Stop refusing everything. Just leave already. ...Pwaah...Guess I’ll have to start over again from track one.”

*Beep beep*

You leave.

*TIMESKIP*

“Nn...Zz...Nn...Hm?”

*Rustle*

“Oh...Classes are over, huh? Nnh...”

*Rustle rustle*

“Ah? Something fell down...”

*Rustle*

“This...Her blazer? She knows Vampires don’t catch colds, doesn’t she? She really loves meddling with my affairs, huh? I don’t want to return to the classroom with this thing, so guess I’ll hit up the infirmary instead. There’s beds over there as well. ...Pwaaah...”

Shuu gets up and goes towards the nurse’s office.

*Rattle*

“...Ugh. All the beds are taken? ...Hm? This scent...”

He looks around.

“This one, huh?”

Shuu approaches one of the beds and moves the curtain aside.

*Rustle*

“Haah...Just like I thought, there she is. Does she really always have to be at the same place as me? Hm...Guess I can lie down here then.”

He joins you in the bed.

*Tick tock tick tock tick tock*

“Nnh....Zzz...”

You wake up.

“Zz...”

You call out for him.

“Nnh...Shut up...Don’t shout...It echoes inside my head...”

You ask him what he is doing here.

“What do you mean? I’m sleeping. All beds were taken when I first came here, and you were resting in one of them. So I decided to lie down here as well. That’s all.”

You complain.

“Pwaah...I’m surprised you can make such a fuss right after waking up. ーー Or rather, what have you been so flustered about this whole time?”

You try and explain.

“What do you mean ‘not here’?”

You get even more flustered.

“Haha…You’re like an open book. It’s not like I’m sucking your blood or anything. We’re just lying down so don’t exaggerate.”

You complain.

“…’Bad’, you say? Something which would be bad if others were to see us…”

*Rustle*

“…Would refer to this, no?”

*Rustle rustle*

“Oi…Don’t throw a fit…Have you forgetten? There’s someone resting on the bed next to ours.”

You flinch.

“I told you all the beds were taken, remember? That’s why I had no other choice but to lie down on this one as well. Unless they left at some point, they should still be there. They might even be listening in, curious as to what is going on over here. …The teacher wasn’t around when I got here… (whispers) but he might have just returned by now as well.”

You stop fighting back, going quiet.

“Heh...You immediately calmed down. Just how easy are you? You pretend to be troubled by my actions, but deep down you just love this, don’t you? The scent of your blood...See? It has gotten richer. That proves you’ve gotten worked up. Did you really believe you could still hide that from me? Unfortunately, things did not go your way.”

You seem confused.

“Nobody has taken notice of us despite the fuss you made earlier so it’s quite obvious we’re the only ones here, no? Too bad~

You get upset.

“I said they ‘might’ be here, remember? Not my fault that you decided to twist my words. Or what? Would you have preferred for them to be around?”

You pout.

“Don’t get upset over something so small. It’s annoying.”

You get up from the bed.

“Wait. Where are you going?”

You explain.

“Haah...? You’re really gonna bother going back when the bell will ring in just a few minutes? …Don’t be ridiculous.”

*Rustle*

“…Why not stay here a little longer?”

*Rustle*

“Ugh…Don’t move. Unlike our bed at home, it’s cramped here. If we stay like this, I’m pretty sure you’ll calm down a little as well, no? I don’t mind sucking your blood to ensure you behave either, but I’m feeling exhausted after teasing you. I’m gonna sleep.”

You ask him if he intends to sleep while embracing you.

“Yes, like this. There’s nobody around so what’s the big problem? …Huh? For some reason, you feel different in my arms compared to usual…? Like you somehow seem…harder or…thinner? Were you always like this? Haah…Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. Mm…”

*Rustle*

“Nn...What? I was just about to fall asleep.”

*Rustle*

“...Oi! Don’t get up all of a sudden!”

You frown.

“What do you mean, ‘this whole time’...?”

You try and explain.

“Haah...? ‘A bother’? Are you referring to what happened in the music classroom, perhaps? Did you take that to heart?”

You avert your gaze.

“Ahー You want to complain because I’m actually trying to keep you by my side now even though I always talk as if you’re nothing but a bother to me, huh? You get upset when I give you the cold shoulder, yet complain about thecopposite scenario as well? ...Haah...That’s exactly what makes you so troublesome to deal with at times...I feel like it’s a waste to even ask this, but you won’t say you’re dissatisfied with the way I treat you, right? If you believe I’ll treasure you because you’re trying your hardest for me, you’re not being funny.”

You frown.

“What? If there’s something you want to say to me, then spit it out.”

You tell Shuu that you just want to know what you mean to him.

“Will you finally be satisfied if I tell you?”

You nod.

“...Close your eyes.”

You hesitant.

“You want to know what you mean to me, right? ...I’ll teach you, so close those eyes.”

You close your eyes.

“What you mean to me, huh?”

Shuu suddenly bites you.

“Mmh...Nn...”

*Gulp*

“Nnh...Why are you so surprised? I’m a Vampire and you’re a woman with exquisite blood. What else did you expect me to do? If you were still expecting anything else at this point, there’s something wrong with your head. Nn...Mmh...”

*Sluuurp*

“Hah...But your blood doesn’t taste that good today. It had a strong fragrance, but it’s not sweet.”

You admit to not feeling all that great.

“Ah...I thought you were acting kind of off, but there’s actually something wrong with you, isn’t there? I didn’t realize because I’ve only ever come to the infirmary to skip class. ...Oh. Does that mean you lend me your blazer even though you were already feeling under the weather yourself? Haah...”

*Rustle*

“I’ve had enough. It’s not even good. ...Having to deal with you tired me out.”

Shuu gets up and leaves.

*Rattle*

“...Che. I actually had such a nice nap as well, then everything went to shit right after waking up.”

He walks through the hallway.

“There’s no point in expecting or wishing anything from me...Why doesn’t she get that already?”

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #shuu sakamaki #diabolik lovers daylight #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

142 notes · View notes

raeandwhatnot · 3 years

Text

Constellations- Charlie Gillespie Imagine

Summary: You and Charlie go on many adventures, and this time Charlie surprises you with an adventure you’ve wanted to do for a while.

Warnings: none just MEGA FLUFF

Words: 2.29k

Tumblr media

When it came to getting to know Charlie, I found out that he is a very spontaneous person. We have been best friends for the past 8 years (crushing on him for the past 3 years), and I have been on so many adventures with him. We have been on many camping trips, random drives, sunrise hikes, and midnight shenanigans. These adventures would either be Charlie texting to see if I wanted to do something, or he would just show up at my door as if he already knew I would say yes. It’s never a dull moment with him.

It was a Friday night and I was sitting on my couch watching Friends eating a bowl of spaghetti with garlic salt sprinkled around the noodles. Normally, every Friday Charlie and I have dinner together while we watch a TV series or movie. However, with Charlie’s filming schedule, he isn’t able to do it all the time. Tonight was one of the nights I wish I had him around for company.

Knock, knock, knock.

I jumped at the sound coming from the front door. I quickly put down my bowl on the coffee table and pause my show to walk over to the door. I unlock the door and open it to find my best friend standing in front of me.

“Charlie?”

“Surprise shawty!” he says with making jazz hand gestures. I furrow my brows at his uncommon remark. “I learned that from Mads. I thought it was funny.”

I nod my head, “I figured as much. What are you doing here? I thought you had filming tonight?”

“Yeah, I kind of lied about that. I felt bad for not being able to make it to our Friday night dinners, so I thought I would surprise you!” Charlie says while stepping into my apartment. “Uh, you’re watching Friends without me?!”

I chuckle at his offended outburst and close the door, “Sorry! I didn’t know what else to watch. Plus, I didn’t want to start anything new without you!”

Charlie shakes his head in disappointment. “Are you ready to go?” he asks while bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“What do you mean?” I question.

“I have a surprise for you. Are you ready to go?” he explains.

My eyes widened, “I thought your presence was a surprise. Not, ‘I have a surprise for you’! Also, do I look ready?” I gesture to the tank top and shorts I was wearing.

Charlie shrugged his shoulders, “Well, if you aren’t ready, then go get dressed! Wear something warm; it’s a little chilly out tonight.”

I go to the coffee table where the remote was placed and turn off the TV. “Alright, alright. I’ll be right back. You can have the rest of my noodles, by the way. I’m full,” I say while walking to my room to get changed.

I shouldn’t be so surprised that Charlie was doing this. I guess with his busy schedule, we haven’t been on an adventure together in a while. I looked in my drawers to see what I should wear. I have no idea what Charlie as planned, so I’m not entirely sure what kind of outfit I should wear. I find one of Charlie’s long-sleeved shirts that he left at my apartment and decide to wear that since he said to dress warm. Even though I have washed it, his cologne still lingered on the piece of clothing. I change my shorts to wear leggings and put on some Doc Martins boots.

I quickly put on some deodorant and walk back to the living room. Charlie was sitting on the couch watching Tik Tok. I stop at the beginning of the hallway, “Is this okay?”

Charlie’s head snaps towards me. “Perfect!” he says standing up. “Is that my shirt?”

I look down at the brown and white, striped long sleeve shirt. “Yeeaah?” I say timidly not knowing what he what he was thinking.

“You look cute in my clothes!” Charlie smirks and puts his hands in his pockets. I could feel my cheeks burn from his compliment. For years, I have been trying to hide the fact that I have been crushing on my best friend. It hasn’t been easy when he is a naturally flirty person. Plus, I don’t think he thinks of me that way because we have been friends for so long.

“Thanks. Should we get going?” I question.

“Yes, we shall!” Charlie shouts as he walks to the door and opens it. “After you!” I giggle at his silly gentleman actions. We walk down the apartment hallway to the parking lot where his orange Subaru was parked. Charlie opens the passenger door, and I climb into the car. Ever since high school, Charlie always opened the car door for me. Even if I opened it myself, he would shut the door and reopen it so he was the one to open it. Sometimes I mess with him and get in the car myself, but he would just make me get out for me to just go back in the car when he opens the door.

Once Charlie gets into the car, I ask, “So, where are we going?”

Charlie turns on the car and puts his seatbelt on, “That’s for me to know and for you to dot, dot, dot.”

I snort at his response. “Did you just quote Vampire Diaries?” I laugh.

“Maybe!” Charlie smiles and backs out of the parking lot. He turns on the radio to some random country station. Even though I’m not the biggest fan of country, I enjoy listening to it with Charlie. I tried to think on what he was wanting to do when it’s 11 o’clock at night. There aren’t many things open. I thought at first he wanted to just go for a drive, but he would have just told me that because that isn’t much a ‘surprise.’

Next thing I know, we have been driving and jamming out to music for the past 45 minutes. I look around to see that we were basically in the middle of nowhere. “Charlie, you aren’t kidnapping me, right?” I wonder jokingly.

Charlie gasps and puts a hand on his chest as if he was offended, “How did you know?!” He breaks into a smile and a giggling fit. I laugh along with him at how cute he was acting.

“No, but for real. Where are we and what the hell are we doing?” I ask looking out the window. There was nothing but open fields.

Charlie slows the car down and pulls over to where the whole car was on the grass. He then puts the car in park. “We are here!” he says excitingly. Charlie pops open his trunk and jumps out of the car.

I follow Charlie and get out of the car. I walk towards the trunk to see him holding a couple of blankets. “Okay, you have some blankets? Are we camping without a tent?” I question. I am completely lost at what Charlie is wanting to do.

“We, (Y/N), are going to star gaze!” Charlie says.

“Wait, really!? I’ve been asking to do this for forever!” I say jumping up and down happily.

Charlie giggles at my excitedness, and we start walking in the empty field. I grab one of the blankets in Charlie’s arms so he wasn’t the only one carrying something. We get close to the middle of the field and place the blankets on the ground. Because I was so excited, I plopped and lie onto the ground. Charlie lies down on the right of me and we start looking at the sky. You could hear nature everywhere. You could hear the night birds chirping, the grasshoppers playing their music, and the cicadas all around us. I take my phone out of my pocket and start playing low vibes music.

“Was this worth the wait?” Charlie asks.

I nod my head, “Heck, yeah! I’ve missed our adventures, so this is amazing!”

“That’s good! I know how much you love stars and constellations, and you have been asking to go star gazing for a while,” Charlie says still looking at the stars.

“I appreciate it a lot. Thank you!” I say facing Charlie. I grab his hand and give it a squeeze. As I was going to pull my hand away, Charlie squeezes my hand as well so I wouldn’t let go. I start to blush at this and face the sky so Charlie doesn’t notice my blushing.

I then start to point out a bunch of constellations that I could find. Every now and then through my peripheral vision, I would notice Charlie looking at me instead of looking at the sky. He wouldn’t look for long before he would face the stars again. However, as I was pointing out the Canis Major constellation, Charlie wasn’t paying attention to the sky at all. Instead he was just looking at me. I stop what I was saying and face Charlie. “Are you listening?”

He tilts his head, “I have for the majority at the time. I just think you lighting up about stars is so cute!”

I shake my head and look at the sky again, “Whatever.”

“Plus, you have a constellation,” Charlie says.

I snap my head back towards Charlie. “What do you mean?”

He turns on his left side and places his index finger on my left cheek while still holding my hand. “Your freckles right here. They kind of make a constellation. It can be called the (Y/N/N) constellation.” Charlie says while lining up the freckles on my face. I could feel my face getting hotter as Charlie was guiding his finger on my cheek.

“Have you been looking at my freckles instead of the stars? I mean, the stars are beautiful tonight!” I say, trying to put the attention back on the sky and not my face.

“But I am looking at something beautiful. I’m looking at you,” Charlie compliments, his finger still lining the freckles on my cheek. He had a slight smirk on his face. He then stops lining my freckles, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and cups the left side of my face. He brushes his thumb on the apple of my cheek. My heart is beating so hard and so fast. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Charlie’s eyes kept switching to looking at my eyes to my lips. ‘Does he want to kiss me right now?’ I think. No one does that unless they want to kiss someone. I suddenly feel Charlie’s hand that was on my cheek sneak a little towards the back of my neck. He then pulls my face towards his and captures my lips onto his. I hesitantly kiss back, shocked that I am kissing my best friend right now! Charlies lips were so soft, and I could slightly taste his vanilla chapstick. He pulls away slowly. I gradually open my eyes to see him looking at me.

“Wow,” I whisper. “I-I wasn’t expecting that!”

Charlie pulls away his hand from my cheek, “Was that okay?”

I slightly bit the corner of my lip, “I mean, I’m not complaining about it.”

“Well, that’s good. I would be embarrassed if you weren’t okay with it. I have been wanting to do that for a while,” he says looking down at our hands.

I furrow my brows, “Y-you have?”

“Yeah!” Charlie scoffed. “I thought it has been pretty obvious that I have liked for a couple years now. I’ve been dropping subtle.. well I guess not so subtle hints, but it wasn’t working because you never noticed!”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “Seriously?! I never knew that you would like me back!” I said now sitting up and letting go of Charlie’s hand.

He looks up at me and sits up as well. “Wait, like me back? You l-like me, too?”

“Yes, Charlie,” I sigh. “I’ve liked you for the past three years or so. If anything, I thought I was being obvious even though I was trying to hide it.”

“Why were you trying to hide it?” Charlie questions.

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship,” I confess. “I didn’t want to tell you my feelings if you didn’t feel the same way. I would have hated myself if I made our friendship awkward because of that. So, I tried to burry my feelings and not let it get to me.”

Charlie takes both of my hands and gives them a little kiss. “I felt the exact same way. I didn’t want to lose what we have, but I guess this means we can grow what we have even more,” he says, caressing my knuckles.

“Yeah, I guess it does,” I smirk. “That is if that’s what you want.”

Charlie leans in closer to my face and whispers, “It’s all I want.” He places his lips on mine once again. This time I instantly kiss back, take my hands out of his, and place them on his cheeks. Charlie rests his hands on my thighs. I smile within the kiss because of how happy I am.

After a few kisses, I pull away. Charlie smiles sweetly and squeezes my thighs. “I think this is our best adventure yet,” he says.

I nod my head in agreement, “I think you’re right.”

“Maybe our next adventure could be a date? A proper date?” Charlie asks.

I smile widely and give him a peck on the lips, “I would love that.” Charlie gives me a couple of cheek kisses to then give me a few more pecks on the lips. We both lie back on the ground to cuddle up next to one another and continue to look at the stars. This was the best night ever!

#charlie gillespie #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #jatp fic #jatp #charlie gillespie one shot #luke patterson #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson oneshot #jatp luke #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader

190 notes · View notes

kuroopaisen · 3 years

Text

10:31 pm || miya osamu

➵ osamu won’t stop making his damn onigiri.

wc: 1400

warnings: gn!reader, the slightest bit suggestive

a/n: @starrysamu i’ll be honest, it’s a while since i’ve written something and been happy with it. but i wanted to give you something on your birthday to say thank you for being so lovely to me :( (i know i’m technically late but shhh...) you’ve been so kind to me, and i can’t thank you enough for all the light you’ve brought into my life (both intentionally and inadvertently). and i know i’m not the only one -- you’ve brought life and laughter to so many people’s lives, and i just want you to know how loved and appreciated you are. this was originally planned as a fluffvember piece dedicated to you but Stuff Happened and it never got written and try as i might, this was the most i could drag together in celebration for remy day. i’m so sorry i couldn’t do more, but regardless i hope you had the best day possible :( i adore you

“Osamu,” you huff, butting his arm with your head.

He ignores you.

“Osamu,” you whine, a little louder this time.

He continues to ignore you, moulding a rice ball with both hands.

You duck down and pop back up between his arms.

Osamu bites back a smile this time, but once again – he ignores you.

You know he’s doing it on purpose. He’s not like his brother; he doesn’t get so lost in what he’s doing that he completely loses track of his surroundings. No, he’s doing this to wind you up. Because you’ve made it too obvious that you want his attention.

Although, you don’t usually have to fight for it.

He’s not the kind of guy to spend a lot of his free time ‘doing’ things. Time at home is time to relax. If he wants to play around with recipes, then he’ll just stay an extra hour at work. If he needs to work off some steam, he’ll go to the gym. Time at home is time to relax – or, more aptly put, time to annoy you.

But sometimes, Osamu’ll be consumed by a relentless urge to create. All he wants to do is make new combinations of ingredients, stuffing his onigiri full of stuff that you wouldn’t possibly think would go together. But Osamu seems to have a sixth sense for this sort of thing; even the strangest sounding combinations end up being surprisingly satisfying.

You’re not about to complain about this quirk of his. You’re his trusty taste-tester, the lab rat for all his new creations. That’s quite the honour – one of the benefits of being part of Osamu’s life. The whole ‘having a professional chef prepare you dinner every night’ is also pretty good.

(You joked, once, that the only reason you kept him around was because he was just so damn good at cooking.

He’d been so genuinely pouty about it that for a moment it felt like you were talking to his brother).

But tonight, that stroke of creativity had hit at nine in the evening. And honestly, you can only eat so much rice.

He’s been at it for the past hour or so, throwing together this and that while a gentle Spotify playlist provides ambient noise. It’s the sort of music you’d listen to in an attempt to wind down – something that’s certainly not doing much for your fatigue.

“I’m tired,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face in his chest. He’s warm, like he always is. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to sleep as soundly as you do with him next to you. He’s too much of a fixture in your life now. Too much of a comfort.

Osamu chuckles, his thumbs smoothing languid circles over your waist. “It’s only ten at night.”

“I know,” you whine, lifting your head up to look at him.

Frankly, he should be glad you’re tired this early. Kita’s always chided you for your erratic sleep schedule, and Osamu’s been given a talk or two about how he should be looking after you better.

“Osamu,” you huff, pouring all your menace into that one word.

It’s not very effective.

“Hm?” He sounds amused more than anything.

“Please come to bed.”

A familiar grin crosses his face. “Want me that bad, huh?”

You butt his chest with enough force to knock him backwards. “Shut up.”

He’s not wrong, but it’s certainly not what’s on your mind right now. And he knows that.

“Ah, so you’re not denying it,” he grins. Stupid relentless Osamu.

You punch him in the stomach with what might just be the world’s weakest fist.

“You’ll have to try harder than that,” Osamu chuckles, shaking his head.

You pout up at him, doing your best to look as pitiful as possible.

“You can’t fool me,” he grins.

It’s true. Osamu knows you well; some would say too well. But that’s what you get, being romantically involved for so long. And while he may know you well enough to save himself the burden of feeling guilty in the face of your faux misery, you also have a carefully catalogued library of every lame and embarrassing thing he’s ever said.

It’s a fair enough trade.

One song ends and another begins.

It’s similar in style to the one before – a soft tune, an indistinct voice crooning over the music, a soothing yet bittersweet tone underlying the tune.

Osamu stills, a strange tenderness melting over his face. He slips one arm around your waist, making sure that his hand stays away from your shirt. It’s still covered in the gelatinous residue of the rice.

“Didn’t this play at your sister’s wedding?” He asks softly.

You nod. He remembers that? Hell, it’d taken you a moment to rifle through your (admittedly hazy) memories of that event to try and recall if this song had even been on the playlist.

Osamu reaches for one of your hands, lacing his sticky fingers with yours. You open your mouth to protest, but before you can his other hand slips round to hold your waist.

“But my shirt,” you whine, well-aware that you’re going to have to change it before going to bed. Unless you wanted gritty bits of dried rice to work its way onto your sheets, of course.

“Just borrow one of mine,” Osamu mumbles, leaning forward and kissing your forehead.

Your lips are free, but it feels like he’s sealed them shut.

Osamu isn’t a man of many words. But he is a man of gentle touches, quiet moments, little affections you might miss if you’re not watching closely enough.

He pulls you towards him, taking a step away from the kitchen countertop. You almost stumble as you let him lead you in the sway of the music. He’s a bit off beat, but he’s never been very good at keeping to one. You remember having to learn ballroom dancing in P.E.; for all his innate talent at volleyball, Osamu has none for dancing.

If he cares about that, he makes no indication. He just holds you close to him, fingers digging into your waist gently as he moves. You lean into him, resting your cheek against his chest.

The song ambles on, an offbeat soundtrack to this tiny tenderness.

You pull your head back and look up to him.

He’s smiling.

It’s not his usual smile, that lazy, sardonic half-smirk. It’s gentle, fond, loving. It’s a smile you don’t get to see often – and one you certainly don’t get to see in public. But it’s another tiny sign that he loves you; a sign that he trusts you with all his vulnerability, even if he can’t put it into words.

He leans in and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you.

“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear.

“What about the mess?” You ask, turning to look at the kitchen as if he hadn’t just made your heart race.

There’s rice everywhere, wrapped in seaweed and in bowls and in flecks all over the counter. You’re sure you’ve never seen this much rice before in your whole entire life – and you’ve cooked for Osamu’s high school volleyball team before.

“I’ll deal with it in the morning,” Osamu says, totally unbothered.

“But ants,” you pout, eyes anxiously scanning the wide variety of perishables strewn over the kitchen. Something’s going to go off by the morning. And that isn’t even accounting for the hoard of uneaten onigiri stacked up in a Tupperware container.

“It’ll be fine,” Osamu shrugs, tugging you out of the kitchen.

“No, it won’t!”

“We haven’t had ants yet.”

“You still shouldn’t leave food out overnight—”

Osamu chuckles, sealing your lips with a kiss. It’s not just any kiss, either; he kisses you exactly how you like to be kissed, in the way that always makes you tick. Unfortunately, it’s an effective way of shutting you up.

Stupid Osamu and his underhanded tricks. He knows just what makes you tick, just how to get under your skin.

But being known is a part of being loved. It means having every little thing about you tucked neatly in someone else’s memory, regardless of if you want it to be or not. Words barely matter. In most cases, they don’t.

It’s a fact you just have to come to terms with.

Osamu already has.

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu x you #i don't know what to tag this hh #also peep the next time reference #that's all

304 notes · View notes

lavenderbexlatte · 3 years

Text

office hours

Tumblr media

nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW

🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

“Any final questions before I let you go?”

You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.

That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.

“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”

“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.

“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.

“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.

The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”

You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.

“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”

Heads shake around the room.

“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”

The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.

Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.

You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.

One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.

“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”

“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.

“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.

“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”

So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?

It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.

You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.

You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.

---------------

It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.

His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.

“Just a sec!”

You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.

But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.

He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”

Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.

“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”

He asks for her name, and you give it.

“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.

“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”

His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”

“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.

Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”

You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”

“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”

“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.

“Kun.”

“Pardon me?”

“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”

“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”

“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.

“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.

“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.

“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”

Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”

Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”

You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”

“You could say that.”

He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.

You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.

“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”

You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”

You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.

“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”

You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.

He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.

“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-

KNOCK KNOCK.

You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.

“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”

Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.

“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”

“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.

She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”

#nct #nct fanfic #qian kun #qian kun scenarios #nct kun #nct kun scenarios #wayv kun #wayv #tw power imbalance

65 notes · View notes

chelsfic · 4 years

Text

Leftovers - Part 10 - Nandor the Relentless x Reader fanfic

Tumblr media

Previous parts: Masterlist

Summary: Nandor attempts to use his powers of hypnosis to heal the reader’s broken brain, Nadja tries to be a good friend, and Guillermo gets something he’s been waiting for...

Warnings: Smut in this chapter!, Female Reader, Hypnosis, Blood drinking

A/N: I hope you like this part! I thought I owed you guys some smut and fluff after the angst of the last chapter...

---

“You are now under my command…”

Nandor’s voice is rich and thick like chocolate syrup. You feel as though you’re sinking under the weight of his influence, falling into his deep, dark eyes and beneath the surface of his droning voice. Your limbs grow heavy and relaxed. It should be a terrifying experience but instead you feel utterly at peace, relinquishing control. Trusting that Nandor will keep you safe.

The vampire swallows, watching the spirit drain from your face with a qualm of panic in his gut. He can do this.

He keeps his hand raised in front of your face, flourishing it as he speaks, “Attend to my words. You will remember the events of the night of the vampire rave. You will regain the memories that were erased from your mind. And...yeah that’s about it.”

He shrugs and lets his hand drop, bending forward to lean his forehead against yours as he holds your gaze, “And now you will awake with your memories healed and the pain gone…”

He leans away, biting his fist in anxiety as he watches you slowly rouse from the trance.

The nagging ache of your erased memories is gone, but in its place you’re momentarily assaulted with vivid images that flash through your mind’s eye like scenes from a movie. You experience the pulsing music and flashing lights of the rave as if you’re really there. You’re lightheaded and dizzy with alcohol and then...a voice making clumsy rhymes into your ear as hands drag you backwards into a shadowy corner.

“Drug blood chillin’... ain’t no villain… just a quick sip, don’t gotta worry ‘bout killin’...”

Pain. Fear. And then a voice calling casually, “Forget it, boo.”

The memories fade and you finally come back to the present, looking up into Nandor’s worried eyes and smiling unsteadily.

“It worked,” you say and then you’re falling against him, clutching the front of his shirt and shaking like a leaf.

“Of course it worked,” Nandor replies with a chastising tone. “You doubted me?”

You snort into the fabric of his shirt and hold on tighter. He lowers you both back into the coffin and gently closes the lid, groaning as he settles down beside you.

“Everything is alright now,” Nandor sighs. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you breathe, wiggling into a comfier position and then adding, “Nandor? Do you know a vampire who raps?”

Nandor’s body goes rigid beside you and he growls, “Fu-cking guy!”

---

The next night, Nadja sits in front of the camera with her arms crossed over her chest and a pout on her red lips.

“I have no idea why such a vibrant, wicked little warrior baby would want anything to do with Sir Snakes-for-Brains…” she shakes her head. “He’s like, ‘Oh! I am Nandor the Relentless! Look at my giant balls while I set your hut on fire!’ What’s the appeal?”

She rolls her eyes and throws up her hands. “But my stupid human child wants what she wants. And he has been making her very sad for days. Enough is enough!”

She jumps out of her seat and stalks down the hallway, trailing the camera operator behind her. As she nears Nandor’s door she catches her heel on the carpet and nearly trips.

“Fucking witches again!” she shrieks before throwing open the door to Nandor’s room.

Nadja freezes in the doorway and the camera guy films over her shoulder.

Nandor has you laid out on the thick, fur rug next to his casket. His face is buried between your legs and your fingers twist into his hair as you arch your back. At the sound of the door slamming open you tilt your head back and shriek, “Nadja!”

Nadja’s face splits into a delighted grin and she swats the camera crew away behind her.

“My mistake, little chicky,” she trills, slowly backing out. When the door is nearly closed she pops her head back in and calls, “I never should have doubted your vicious seduction powers, mortal! You go girl!”

Nandor raises his head, his lips and beard glistening with your arousal and he whines, “Get out of here! Fucking hell…”

---

You hold out for about ten seconds after the door closes before bursting into giggles. Nandor breaks down with you, his brows arching up adorably as he wheezes with laughter. After a moment, he crawls up your naked body and settles down over you. The hard length of his erection brushes against your heated core and you whine a little with need. He rests his elbows on either side of you, caging you in with his strong arms and leaning down to lick a trail down your neck. Goosebumps erupt over your skin and a pleasant shiver runs down your spine.

“They won’t use that in the documentary, right?” you pant, caught between arousal and worry. You jerk your hips a little, seeking some friction, but Nandor presses down to keep you still.

He drags his fangs over the beating pulse in your neck before replying, “If they do I will rip off their heads and set fire to their villages.”

He twists his fingers into the hair at the base of your skull, pulling your head back to bare your throat. You gulp, overwhelmed with the need for him inside of you. In your fuzzy brain you’re not even sure it matters to you if it’s his fangs or his cock...you just need him.

“Maybe--uh, maybe we could try asking nicely first,” you tease.

“You are going to make me soft, little mortal,” he complains, nudging your legs apart and lining himself up at your entrance. He presses forward just slightly, enough for you to feel the pressure and the promise of his delicious girth.

You reach down to run your hands along his sides, his hips, cupping his round buttocks and squeezing.

“You don’t feel soft to me…” you laugh and then he’s pushing forward, burying himself inside of you with abandon. His mouth falls open and he darts forward quicker than your eyes can follow, closing his mouth on your tender throat and biting down with a feral growl as he slams inside you.

Nandor shuts his eyes, gripped in the heady sensation of feeding during sex. Sex-feeding. If he’d known it could be this good he would’ve taken a human lover ages ago.

Nandor throws his head back, blood dripping from his chin and onto your naked breasts. He grips your hips, rolling his pelvis against you with unnatural speed until your thighs shake around him and he cries out with his orgasm.

He falls down beside you, gathering you into his arms and tucking you against his chest with a satisfied purr. You tilt your head back and press your mouth to his, tasting your own blood on his tongue.

“Do I still taste good...now that I’m all impure?” you ask, trying for a light tone, but somehow deeply caring about his answer.

“You taste delicious,” Nandor assures you, burying his face into the crook of your neck and lapping up the slow ooze of blood from your wound. He pulls back, smacking his lips and adding, “Sweet and salty. Like one of your human chocolate pretzel snacks.”

A smile tugs at your lips and you duck your head bashfully. He reaches a hand up to brush his fingers through your hair and you hum contentedly at the feel of his nails dragging along your scalp.

“Well, that’s all you’re getting for now is a snack,” you sigh, sitting up and stretching your limbs, cat-like. You cover your mouth as a yawn escapes your throat. “I need to go bandage this…”

“Unless…” Nandor trails off, looking up at you with his big, liquid eyes full of feigned innocence. You remind yourself that your boyfriend is a 13th century Persian war lord.

“Unless…” you echo, smirking in amusement at him.

“You wish to make your unholy transition this very night!” Nandor enthuses, sitting up with an eager glimmer in his eyes. “In which case band-aids will be unnecessary.”

You roll your eyes with affection and respond, “We talked about this already, remember? My condition?”

Nandor’s shoulders slump and he looks put out as he replies, “Oh...right. You were serious about that?”

---

The camera is pointed at you as you lounge on one of the couches in the fancy room, biting into a green apple and carefully chewing before you reply.

“I told him he has to make Guillermo a vampire first.”

---

“Knock, knock!” Nandor singsongs, poking his head through the curtain that serves as the door to Guillermo’s tiny room.

He finds his familiar seated on his sad, twin bed with his laptop open. He’s sipping a Yoohoo and listening to something on his headphones.

“Master!” Guillermo exclaims, pushing aside the laptop and slipping off the headphones.

Nandor smiles awkwardly, his fangs biting into his lower lip, and asks, “Do you have a moment to talk, Guillermo? I don’t want to interrupt your computing machine time…”

“Of course!” Guillermo answers. “Is there something you need?”

“No, not at all,” Nandor sits down gingerly on the edge of the bed, awkwardly toying with the hem of his cape as he searches for words. “It is what you are needing, maybe. Guillermo, you’ve been a very good familiar to me… I know I have not always been the easiest vampire to work with…”

Nandor pauses for a beat, looking expectantly at his familiar until Guillermo takes the hint and rushes to insist, “Nonsense! You’re...you’re not difficult at all.”

Guillermo’s eyes flash to the camera and instantly dart away again.

“That’s kind of you to say. But it’s true, I’ve been demanding and… maybe even a little insensitive to your needs. You’ve worked for me for many years and now, I think it’s time for a reward that reflects your service and loyalty.”

Nandor stops and watches Guillermo with a glint in his eye as he waits for his familiar’s reaction. For his part, Guillermo can’t help glancing at the glitter portrait hanging over his desk with trepidation as he asks, “Is it another...craft?”

Nandor scoffs and barely suppresses a grin as he answers, “No, Guillermo. It’s even better than a glitter portrait. I’m going to make you a vampire!”

Whatever reaction Nandor expected, it wasn’t this. Guillermo’s face lights up for a brief instant and then his eyes roll into the back of his head and he collapses into his pillow in a faint.

Nandor jumps up, leaning over his prone familiar with a frown and exclaiming, “Oh no! He’s died already!”

---

Guillermo awakes a few minutes later, blinking his eyes open to see his master looming over him and flicking droplets of Yoohoo onto his face.

“Oh, good, you’re not dead!” Nandor says mildly, sitting back and waiting for Guillermo to regain his faculties.

Guillermos’ voice comes out breathless, “You...did you really say you’re going to make me a vampire?”

Nandor smiles, congratulating himself on the surprise as he answers, “Yes! I’m really going to make you a vampire, Guillermo. Tonight. If you’re ready…”

“But…” Guillermo shakes his head slowly, trying to process this news. He’s delirious with happiness but after so much disappointment he can’t help but be skeptical. “Why now?”

“Eh…” Nandor grimaces awkwardly and flicks his eyes to the camera. “It may have been a condition of turning my human into a vampire...She won’t let me turn her unless I do you, too.”

“Oh…of course,” Guillermo sounds dejected and his shoulders slump forward.

“Unless you no longer wish to become a vampire…” Nandor moves as if he’s about to leave and Guillermo jumps forward, practically throwing himself into his master’s arms.

“No! I want to be a vampire!” he insists, desperation in his tone.

“Very well,” Nandor throws his cape over his shoulder and turns toward Guillermo, “Prepare yourself!”

Guillermo, trembling with nerves and excitement, tilts his head to the side and answers, “I’m ready, master.”

---

A/N: Heeeeyyyoooo, I couldn’t let my baby, Guillermo, have another Jenna incident. I hope you guys liked this chapter! We’re closing in on the finale.

Tags:

@festering-queen @kandomeresbitch @strangestdiary @glitterportrait @scuzmunkie @redwoodshadows @sarasxe @rileyomalley

#nandor the relentless #nandor #nandor the relentless x reader #nandor the relentless fanfic #nandor the relentless smut #nandor x reader #nandor the relentless imagine #wwdits fanfic #wwdits smut

212 notes · View notes

the-fiction-witch · 3 years

Text

I Hate You P3

TV SHOW: THE QUEENS GAMBIT COUPLE: BENNY X READER RATING: SEXY

Tumblr media

I groaned as I woke up seeing the bright light cascading from the windows and door, Loud music coming from the other room, I groaned sitting up rubbing my eyes. I slipped my robe over my shoulders going out to the rest of the apartment seeing y/n stood at the oven making pancakes, her hair in rollers, in a little blue sleeveless dress slightly dancing to the record player.

"Morning" I groaned

"Morning Husband!" she smiled "Coffee?"

"Uhhh yeah sure"

"Here you go" she smiled handing me a cup of coffee

"Aww thank you wifey" I smiled giving her a kiss "why are all the lights and the music on?"

"Because this is the time I get up benny. Get used to it"

"Fine, see how long you can keep this up when I don't go to bed till like three Am"

"fine, have your coffee darling"

"I shall" I nodded having a sip of my coffee but it tasted terrible, "Ughh! what is this!"

"I made you coffee darling" she smiled

"what did you do to this coffee? what was the exact steps in you making it"

"Coffee powder, milk, Water"

"Okay..."

"I did however use Almond Milk"

"Ughhhhhhhh...." I relused almost being sick "Okay. Thank you dear" I sighed tipping the coffee down the sick "I'm going for a shower"

"Ohh you might want to wait, I used up all the hot water" she smiled "sorry darling"

".... Its fine dear" I sighed starting up the shower and it was a cold as ice, "I'm gonna use your shampoo okay hun I'm out of mine" I told her as I climbed in the shower

"No! benny! it's mine use your own!"

"what's yours is mine darling"

"Fine, Ohh by the way I used your razor to shave my legs"

"... You know what that's not a problem, I wasn't planning on shaving,"

"You should"

"Should I?"

"It would make your wife happy"

"so would a divorce and I'm not giving you that either"

"I'll wax it in your sleep"

"You wouldn't dare"

"Wouldn't I Benny?" she smiled as she did her hair "Ohh I'm having some friends over later by the way"

".... fine. Then I'm having the boys over tomorrow" I told her as I climbed out my shower I smirked and dried off then threw my towel on the floor and wrapped my robe around me she seemed annoyed with me already "Feel free to leave me wifey, It's only going to get worse"

"Ohh is it now? well I'm going to stay put, I know I can last longer then you"

"why so sure darling?"

"Ohh I'm two days out from my period benny. You ready for it?"

"are you now? How about I start getting really into Diy projects that I will never complete"

"How about I get really into cooking and constantly make terrible foods"

"I'm never buying a dish washer"

"I'm gonna get a cat"

"I swear to go I will stat having chess themed orgies in this house, with or without your participation"

"I going to take a female lover"

".... Actually I'm fine with that. In fact I'd be slightly into it" I shrug "I will..."

"You'll what?"

"I will get you so fucking pregnant, you'll give birth to fucking twins or worse"

"My god do I hate you"

"I hate you too" I smiled pulling her to kiss me she resisted at first but happily kissed me back wrapping her arms around me tightly

"You'd be into me having a side girlfriend?"

"Kinda yeah? If you'll let me watch"

"You're disgusting" she sighed going to the bedroom

"what! It's hot!" I complain following her but she threw my jeans at me

"Put pants on!"

"My house! I can walk around naked if I want"

".... Damn it I can't you'll enjoy it"

"I will" I nodded "Infact could you, like seriously. that would be very very nice wifey" I smirked cuddling her from behind

"Hands off unless your going to fuck me benny," she laughs pushing me off her "Can't try this sugar sweet before you buy" she smirked playing with her hair and shaking her ass at me so much her dress physically moved from side to side with her shaking

"I thought I had bought it. considering... we are married."

"Don't you poke holes in my sexy analogy"

"Maybe I would have had sex with you if you'd given me a minuet"

"Nope! dwindling to none existent sex life. Welcome to married like benny watts"

"Our sex life is not dwindling if I have anything to say about it"

"Who said you did?"

"Our sex life is not going anywhere" I smirked grabbing her pulling her to my chest and grabbing her ass "Not at least till give got you pregnant y/n"

"You are never getting me pregnant"

"Aren't I?" I smirked "Just you try and stop me"

"Even if you do I'll make sure there all girls, all hate chess and want nothing to do with there father"

"You have no control about that honey, I do remember. so I'll make sure there all chess playing, messy, dirty little boys who all look just like me"

"I hate you"

"I hate you too" I smiled pulling her to kiss me.

I sat at the table working on my next book, Y/n came in bringing the last two crates of beer in she had borrowed my car or well she took my keys without telling me she was getting beer in for her 'freinds' she had visiting tonight,

"who have you got coming tonight anyway?"

"My friends"

"what friends?"

"My poker friends"

"I thought you poker friends was luke and everyone?"

"Ehh some of them yes"

"You have other friends?"

"I assume you have other friends then just lukes and your chess guys?"

".... I do not"

"Ohh. Well I do" she shrugs taking the beer to the kitchen i tried to take one but she slapped my hand "Not for you"

"Owww..." I complained "How many people are coming then?"

"A few"

"A few?"

"Just some poker friends, some biker friends, and Dan he's my bestie"

"Is he now?"

"will you just chill. also pack your chess board away unless you want it broken"

"why?"

"Because It'll get broken if you leave it there" she laughs

"I am growing more and more concerned about your friends"

"Yeah and I've been concerned about yours since I met them"

"Have you?"

"The boys are weird"

".... I'll give you that" I sighed

"Benny?"

"Yeah?" I sighed as I put my board away

"I don't like your clothes."

"You have mentioned that many times y/n"

"what! you do dress like a cowboy porn star!"

"Okay the cowboy I get where are you getting porn star?"

"The weird caterpillar you keep above your mouth"

"You love it" I smirked as I put it away

"But seriously benny I don't like your clothes"

"Okay?"

"Take them off"

"...Ohh" I laughed "Something you wanted wifey?" I smirked leaning on the kitchen counter beside her

"Nope just wanted to make you hard so I can abandon you" she smirked groping my dick though my jeans and then walking off

"You are evil"

"yep" she smiled as the door knocked "Get the door please husband"

"Yes wifey" I sighed going to the door as it was pounding by now, I opened it and almost gulped seeing the gang of tall, muscular, burley, heavily tattooed, leather jacket wearing men with bags and boxes of beer. "Uuuuuhhhh Hello" I smiled

"Y/n?"

"Uhh Yes, that uh that's uhh she's over there" I told them letting them all in,

"Ahhh my boys!" she smiled hugging them each tightly, once they where all inside I shut the door as they opened the first box of beer, My god she's turn my flat into a biker bar.

"y/n? are they going to kill me?" I whispered to her

"Maybe if you piss them off. wouldn't be the first time" she smiled as she walked off to chat with some others

"Wait- what? what do you mean wouldn't be the first time?" I asked her "Y/n? Y/n? Don't leave me alone" I whined following her carefully

"Benny watts are you scared?"

"Yes! this is little the first time in my life I'm NOT the most insane man in the room." I told her "I know I like to stick out but this... this is in a way I don't like"

"Boys?" she called making them all silence and look at us "Don't murder my husband...." she smiled

"That's it?"

"Don't murder my husband... Please?"

some nodded but most just returned to their conversations, their beer's or other such things, Y/n walked off to put some of her records on, and helped out one of the guys with something.

I mostly just sat at the table trying not to get in the way as my apartment was full of these... well biker guys, The smell of cigarette smoke wafting across the air, as well as the smell of beer, motorbike oil, and cannabis. The empty pile of cans and bottles of beer piling high by the door, The rock music blaring, men shouting and swearing at each other. Some guys arm wrestling others betting on it, spilling beer across the side, another group was doing something with vodka shots I wasn't sure, Y/n had helped one guy set up all the cushions on the floor like a bed and he had a little... let's call it improvised tattoo machine and sat cross legged smoking something as he did tattoo's on other guys, often he would pass the cigarette to y/n as she went around gathering empty bottles, checking on various things. as much as it wasn't my scene I loved how... she's kinda the queen of this shit, on anything she had the final word, on beer's, on who won games, everything went though her.

"Come on Baby? where's my sugar?" One guy asked sitting in the leather chair trying to pull her onto his lap

"Oi! hand's off Pete, ladies busy" she argues pushing his hands off her

"Besides, little ladies married now" Another guy spoke up from the table

"Yeah, how'd that little weasel get his hands on my baby?" He smirked more to y/n then anyone else

"Reasons" she smirked winking to me,

"Hey? Watts right?" he asked to me

"Yeah" I nodded

"You party?" he asks offering me a cigarette

"Uhhh no. No thanks"

"Whatever, fun little hubby you got y/n" He smirked pulling her onto his lap

"He's fun" she smirked getting off his lap "sometimes" she smiled as she walked past giving my cheek a kiss

"Y/n? your up" The guy called as he finished up the last guys tattoo

"wait your getting another tattoo?" I asked her

"No just touching up mine" she smiled "You wanna come hold my hand benny?" she whines playfully

"Alright" I smiled holding her hand so she dragged me over she laid on the pillows as this guy looked her tattoo over. He was taller then me, muscular and toned, Tattoo's covering every inch of his body, he was shirtless with only a pair of jeans and some suspenders, he sat cross legged on the cushion as he cleaned his needles and got some ink ready in a little glass dish "Y/n are you sure this is... sanitary on our floor?"

"Our floor's cleaner then the shop I got this done in" she laughs tapping the ottoman so I sat on it and took her hand "I don't really need you, I did it last time with just a lollipop and a foul mouth" she laughs "But... give you practice" she winks

"We good?" He asked her and she nodded and he started, it was only fascinating to see him touching up the colours and lines of her dragon even if at times it felt like she was going to break my hand till he took a break to change the colour or needle I don't know,

"fucking hell" I complain shaking my hand where it had gone numb

"Ohh this is nothing wait till I have a baby"

"Hell no, I'm waiting in the husband room with a paper"

"No your not your going to hold my hand that or stare at the human forcing its way out of me. either way" she smirked

"That is if you have a baby?"

"Like your not gonna get me pregnant" she smiled giving my lips a sweet kiss

"I might" I winked

"You don't I will" That Pete guy smirked

"You're done" The guy told her and she smiled sitting up

"You're turn"

"what? no way!"

"Awww what's the matter benny? You scared?" she smirked "I knew you wouldn't" she giggled as she got up "Guess I have a better pain tolerance then you,"

"I could sit though it y/n. I just don't... want anything"

"I bet you can't"

"I bet I can"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah!"

"Put your money where your mouth is then watts." she smirked the room going quiet

"Yeah? Okay. If I do it you have to stop this stupid competing." I told her and she seemed shocked "we call the bets off, all of them"

"and what would we do about... everything?"

"I get to give in. and stay married to you. as long as I want"

"Humm found of your wifey now are you watts?" she smirked wrapping her arms around my neck

"I am. no more fighting, No more dares. and you stay my wife" I told her wrapping my arms around her waist

"And if you can't do it? If your chicken out?"

"Then we call our bet off and you win. you can leave me"

"Hummm... Okay" she smiled "But I pick what you get"

"Deal" I sighed

she smirked and pulled me to heavily kiss her, I happily kissed her back tightening my grip on her, I could hear the guys wolf whistling at us till she pulled away "Get cosy Benny" she smirked running to the table getting a bit of paper,

I breathed and laid on the cushions trying to get comfy staring at my celling while my head screamed at me

'Helloo! Earth to benny's rational mind what the fuck are we doing! why do we agree to this! She's gonna tattoo a dick on me isn't she?'

"You done this before?" The guy asked me

"Nope"

"I aint gonna lie to ya man, It's gonna fuckin' hurt"

"Yeah... I know"

"Ankle, under 15." y/n smiled handing this guy a bit of paper but I didn't see what it was on it "Get him on the bone"

"You're intentionally making this hurt aren't you?"

"Ohh relax benny, My first tattoo was my ankle"

"It was? so... it's an easy first place then?" I asked as she came over getting comfy with me

"Ohhh noo. I screamed" she smirked rubbing on my shoulders

"Thanks."

"don't move. Or It'll take longer. and hurt more" he told me

"Great" I sighed

"Ohh relax I'm not that evil to you benny"

".... we got married out of spite of course your fucking evil to me" I said starting to panic as he moved my jeans up 'ohh fuck oh fuck this is getting real, this is getting real, it's not to late I can get out of this'

"Yeah," she laughs giving me a cuddle "I hate you"

"I hate you too" I told her and as I did I felt the scratchy pain across my ankle "ahhh fuck!"

I blocked it out or at least tried to, Mostly just laid there with my hands over my eyes narwing on the inside of my mouth as y/n cuddled me and sometimes gave me kisses often going here and there to do other things as people began to leave to head home every so often i felt him drag something across my skin wiping away

"what uhhh what are you wiping?" I asked trying to focus on something other then the pain

"Ink." He says "and blood"

"I shouldn't have asked" I sighed

"Almost done" He says

"Is it normal to feel sick?"

"You're probably just low on sugar" Y/n laughs "You should have eaten something"

"Yeah well... waiting for my wife to make me dinner"

"Make him his dinner y/n" Pete Laughed as he had now came close to watch my pain sitting on the rug even if I did notice him ever so often ogling y/n

"Benny make y/n her dinner" Y/n giggled

"I would by my wife insisted I get my ankle amputated" I sighed

"Ohh grow up your getting a single line tattoo under fifteen centimetres. Not like I made you get my dragon" she laughs

"How long did your dragon take?"

"six hours in two three hour blocks one for line work and one for colouring" The guy smirked as he worked

"How much did that cost?" I asked

"Two crates of beer, fifty bucks and a free fuck with my friend Lina" she laughs

"How much is this?" I asked

"The beer and the cigarette I've had tonight" He shrugs "And your done"

"I'm done?"

"All finished man. you feel alright?" he asks as I sat up

"I feel like I'm going to faint or hurl"

"Go lay down benny," y/n smiled helping me up even if I couldn't put weight on my ankle instantly falling into her arms "whoa. Okay to bed Mr watts right now" she laughs helping me to our room and instantly she tucked me into bed "You get some rest okay sleep tight" she smiles kissing my head before going back to the living room leaving the door open a crack

"Back in a sec y/n I gotta clean up" The tattoo guy said as he headed to the bathroom

"Sure dan" she waves

'ooohh so that's dan"

I tried not to focus on the aching and throbbing pain on my ankle trying to get to sleep

"so? can I have a little sugar now baby?" Pete asked

"Pete knock it off. How many times I'm not into that anymore"

"what? seriously? but your my little biker baby?"

"Yeah well Not anymore"

"What? Because you got married in Vegas your actually going though with this shit? you got drunk and hooked up so what divorce him and lets get back to our sugar?"

"Pete, Look I'm serious. I'm married now"

"You can't really be staying with this little weasel"

"I am." she smiled "I Like being a wife, I like a lot of things about it but... I'm happy,"

I smiled a little and quickly fell asleep.

I groaned as I woke up my ankle still aching but I felt y/n cuddled up with me "Ummm good morning wifey" I smirked holding her close

"Ummmm hello Husband" she smiled cuddling me tighter "How are you feeling?"

"Better, now I have you"

"Yeah me too" she smiled kissing me softly I smirked and pulled her closer kissing her back being careful of her fresh tattoo

"so... we're married. and not looking for a divorce."

"Nope. Unless you like.. I don't know cheat on me or anything like that" she laughs "but other then that. I'm happy"

"Yeah, I'm happy too y/n" I smiled "We're happily married my darling"

"Very happy" she smiled "coffee?"

"Yes please my sweet wife" I told her and she smiled getting up and tugging me along with her, to the kitchen, I smiled wrapping my arms around her nuzzling into her neck as she made coffee, "We're really... not competing anymore? you're happy to stay married to me?"

"Very happy benny," she smiled turning to give me a kiss "For as long as you are"

"I heard... you and pete last night?"

"Did you now?"

"did you and him?"

"Once. Yeah, well you heard last night don't you trust me?"

"I trust you, Even if I hate you"

"Yeah I hate you too" she laughs "Do you like it?" she asks as she turned to face me

"Like what?"

"You're ankle?"

"Ohh. I haven't really seen it yet"

"Come on then" she giggled excitedly dragging me over to the Livingroom sitting her little mirror on the table and angling it down so I could see my ankle I was a little worried what I now Had permanently on me but I was pleasantly surprised,

The careful and beautiful linework of the outline of the king piece

"oooohh... I like that actually" I smirked rather impressed with it even if it was rather red,

"See. trust me" she giggled

"It's beautiful darling, I really like it"

"Good, I thought you would" she smiled moving a little closer standing beside me and I could see in the mirror as she got closer she had a fresh tattoo on her ankle too a tattoo in the same style in the same place on her ankle but of a queen piece so as we stood together they matched

"when-"

"after you went to sleep, before Dan left"

"I love it even more now, it's amazing my darling"

"Ummm" she smiled hugging me tightly nuzzling her head into my chest "I love you"

I was in shock, my heart beating quickly, I relaxed a little and hugged her tightly pulling her as close as I could "I love you too"

I smirked as we arrived at lukes my arm around y/n my hand on her butt though her coat

"Hey! you guys are togethere and aren't murdering each other? this is a rareity" Luke laughed letting us in leading us into the poker room where everyone else was already waiting

"Hi everyone" she smiled

"Hey" I waved as we got to the last two seats next to each other, I slipped my jacket and hat off

"Drinks?" Luke asked

"Just a cola please Luke" she smiled

"Me too" I told him

"This is... weird" Luke said getting them from his little fridge "But come on you two know the rules"

"Course. You look beautiful y/n"

"Awww thank you benny, you look very handsome too" she smiled I happily kissed her giving her lips a sweet intense kiss

"What- What the hell is going on?" Luke asked as everyone was confused

"You go on wifey" I winked slapping her butt as I sat down she smiled widely and showed off her nice diamond ring, and wedding ring. everyone looked impressed and shocked so I smirked and showed off my own with my signet ring

"You- You two are... fucking married now?" He asked

"Yep happily married" she smiled slipping her coat off putting it on the chair

"Yes! I knew it!" Mark laughed from across the table "the second y/n wasn't drinking I knew it"

"Yeah, Four months now right?"

"Four and a half" she smiled as she sat down and took my hand "I love you" she smiled nuzzling into my shoulder as Luke dealt the cards

"I love you too" I smirked giving her a kiss

"This is the most insane thing I've seen in my life. But I knew you two loved each other really" Luke laughed.

25 notes · View notes

shenanigans-and-imagines · 3 years

Text

Character Meme: Through Another's Eyes - Cad Bane on Jayna Dar

This was taken from a deviant art account, linked here. (Sorry, I couldn't link it directly, you know how tumblr is about linking outside websites)

The idea is to choose a character who interacts a lot with your OC and answer questions from their point of view. You can also do this is reverse if that's your fancy. With that out of the way, let's try this out. Thanks to @llovelykenobi for showing this to me.

Tumblr media

INTRODUCE YOURSELF

01 - What's your name?

Cad Bane.

02 – Are you male or female?

Duros Male.

03 – What age are you?

That's a little personal, don't you think?

04 – Describe yourself.

I'm a man who is very good at his job.

05 – What do you do for a living?

Bounty Hunter.

06 – Choose five words that describe your personality

Efficient, smart, and easily irritated by people who don't mind their own business. Was that too many words?

INTRODUCE YOUR SUBJECT

07 – What is their name?

When I first met her, she was going by Myra Tillos. But, I guess her real name is Jayna Dar.

08 - How do you know them?

We met on the job. Worked together a few times

09 – Describe them in three sentences. A pain in the ass who is, regrettably, is exactly the type of person you want on the job with you. She can take orders, but knows how to improvise. She's also a liar.

PHYSICAL TRAITS

10 – Are they male or female?

Female. No doubt about that.

11 – How old are they? Don't know. Never bothered to ask.

12 - Describe them Pretty for a human; dark skin, black hair, green eyes. Nice legs, if that's your taste.

13 – Do they have any distinguishing features; scars or tattoos? Few scars, but everybody's got some in our business. Though, there is no mistaking the ones on her back. Pyke slavers are very specific in how they punish runaways.

14 – Are they fit; Athletic. Do they do any sports? Just as much as any other bounty hunter.

Not unless you counting drinking. 15 – What about Illnesses, War Wounds or Physical Disabilities?

None that I know about.

SKILLS AND ABILITIES

16 - What would you say is their best ability? She's just about the best escape artist in the business. Put her in a windowless room with no vents and only one exit, and somehow she'll find her way out. I still don't know how she does it.

17 - What do they think their best ability is?

She thinks she's charming.

18 - What else are they good at?

Pissing people off on purpose.

19 - What are they not good at?

Keeping her mouth shut.

20 - Do they have any artistic talent?

She knows her way around a knife.

21 - What about Musical Ability? I've caught her singing to herself a few times. She's not bad.

22 - Are they good at a particular sport?

Never seen her play one.

23 - What about combat; can they fight?

She can go toe to toe with me. I'd put that down as a yes.

24 - Do they have any... powers or abilities you would describe as supernatural or superhuman?

She's a Jedi, if that's what you mean. Just another little something she didn't bother to mention. PERSONALITY AND INTERESTS 25 - If you had to choose one word to describe their personality; what would it be?

Liar.

26 - Can you expand on that?

She never told the straight truth about herself. I didn't even know her name until Kenobi blurted it out. She is a liar. No matter how she tried to pretty it up.

27 - What do you like best about them?

She never tried to cheat me out of my share. Can't complain about that.

28 - What personality trait or behaviour particularly gets on your nerves? She flirts and it can get...distracting. You can never tell when she's being serious.

29 - Are they sociable; do they mix well with others?

People seem to like having her around, but those same people have also tried to take a swing at her. Make of that what you will.

30 - Do they dress well? Are they Fashionable?

She always looks good, if that's what you mean.

31 - What would you say is important to them? I don't know. She told me once that she was here for a good time, not a long time. I don't know what that means in terms of what's important to her. She just wants to do what she wants to do, plain and simple.

Do you know of any deep, dark secrets they keep buried?

Besides the whole being Jedi thing, no. She told me "ask me no questions, I'll tell you know lies". I didn't ask and she lied anyway.

32 - Would you want them as an enemy; What sort of enemy would they make?

She already seems to think I am, even after I gave her a fair shake. She's an effective one. I'll give her that.

YOUR RELATIONSHIP

33 - How did you first meet? We both were turned onto an assignment the guild already laid claim to. Rather than fight each other and the guild, we decided to join forces and bring the bounty in ourselves. She didn't shoot me in the back and we both walked away with a fifty-fifty split. Smoothest partnership I had in a while.

34 - Are you friends?

Depends on the day.

35 - Are you rivals?

Depends on the day.

36 - Are you Lovers? That's a strong word for it. But sure, we had sex a few times. It's a good way to let off some steam.

37 - Do you love them? No.

38 - Do they love you?

I doubt it.

39 - Who, if anyone, do you think they are in love with?

She's not the type to fall in love. People like us...we're not built for it.

40 - Are they currently in a relationship?

I heard a little rumor the leader of Crimson Dawn and his lieutenant seem to have a thing going on. If it's who I think it is, she's at least sticking to one person now.

41 - Do you like them?

I don't want to kill her on sight. 42 - Do they like you?

She's only threatened to kill me. The fact she hasn't actually done it must be some point in my favor. 43 – How do you think they feel about children?

Never seen her with one. I don't think she thinks about them.

44 - What about their family?

Never came up.

45 – And finally. If you could change one thing about them, what would it be?

If she had an off switch on that mouth of hers, it'd be an improvement.

#star wars #the clone wars #cad bane #jayna dar #star wars oc #sw oc #star wars: the clone wars #my oc stuff

18 notes · View notes

buns-with-a-book · 3 years

Text

An Unexpected Visitor

For @dmcsecretsanta, I was the secret santa to @i-write-fanfics-to-procrastinate! So, here’s your gift!

Fandom: Devil May Cry Characters: Dante, Lady, Vergil, Nero (minor role)

Summary: It’s one snowy night, Lady and Dante are sharing a drink, and a stranger comes knocking at the door. Set after DMC3, based mostly on ppan_kyu’s twitter comic

Dante loved winter. Well, more specifically, he loved the festive season that came with winter. The sparkling lights, the music, the snow (he loved building snowmen, once upon a time), everything just seemed easier with the scent of candy canes in the air. He especially loved decorating the shop for the festive occasion, dealing with Lady’s amused face as he worked on putting up as much festivity as he could afford.

He tried the mistletoe. He got a punch in the face for that.

There were nights he wondered what became of his brother, Vergil. Six months prior, he had dragged his (screaming and writhing) brother from the crumbling Temen-ni-Gru, from the edge of the Underworld, back to civilization. He knew his brother hated it, being denied power, but he still cared for his twin. He certainly cared enough to drag his ass away from his own destruction in a world they had no idea what lay within.

After that day, he disappeared from his life. Dante was waiting for the news that his brother raised another weird hell structure and he had to go take care of it...but it would mean his brother wasn’t dead nor in the Underworld. A sliver of good that he would gladly take while on the way to whoop his twin’s ass again.

It was one snowy night, Christmas Eve, that he found himself in his office. Lady had brought in peppermint beer, a reward for one of her jobs, and brought it to ‘celebrate the season’. He figured she actually brought the beer to see how he would react to it.

Well. He drank it. That wasn’t really indicative of it’s quality or taste but he drank it.

“Well. Christmas.” Lady mused, as if it was one of those weighty subjects that held a significant amount of personal history that Dante never liked talking about. Some things could only really be talked about with family and Lady, although they were friends, was not family.

“Yep. The best holiday.” He said, trying to lighten the mood.

“What, because of the possibility of free shit?” Lady huffed, taking a swig. “Keep dreaming.”

“Aw, come ooon!” Dante whined. “Not just the possibility of free stuff! Although I’m not going to say no to free socks.”

“Why socks?”

“Can’t have enough socks!” Dante grinned. “Nah, I just...you know, awaiting my brother to come home. He liked Christmas too.” Lady let out a sigh.

“I would shoot him in the head.”

“Yeah, you can do that. Tell me how it turns out.” Dante replied lazily as he took another swig of peppermint beer. Lady let out a frustrated sigh, knowing well how it would turn out: not particularly effective. “But it’d be funny if you put a bullet in his skull like you did to me. We’d match, for once.” That pulled a small laugh out of her.

An aura suddenly caught Dante’s attention: familiar but damp from the snow outside. He fell silent, slowly standing from his desk. Lady noticed the change in his demeanor, the slow careful way he pulled himself up off his chair, and immediately pulled out a pistol. Dante slowly crept towards the door. He raised an eyebrow: why did he sense two? They were so similar...no, it couldn’t be.

He opened the door.

Standing in front of him, wrapped in a worn cloak, was his brother. He looked worse for wear than when he last saw him (but then again, what could be worse than a twin that looked like a cat that had just gotten soaking wet?). It was obvious he had been places, to where he did not know, but why was he here? And if his twin didn’t think he noticed the tiny bundle of black in his arms, then he was sorely mistaken.

“Dante.”

“Vergil.”

He heard Lady gasp behind him. Based on Vergil’s flinch, she must’ve held her pistol up with full intent to shoot.

“So.” Dante crossed his arms. He wasn’t going to bring out Ebony and Ivory, not yet. Vergil scowled, a hand reaching up to wrap around the back of the black bundle. “What brings you back here Verg?” Vergil didn’t immediately correct him which was...interesting.

“I need your help.”

“And why should I help you?” Dante leaned against the doorframe, eyes narrowed at his twin. More specifically, he was focused on the bundle that was starting to stir-

“He went this way!” A voice shouted a few alleyways away. “Don’t let him get away with his Holiness’ prize!” Vergil glanced back, a quickness that Dante knew was from terror.

Vergil? Terrified? Perish the thought.

“What the hell did you do this time.” Dante hissed. Vergil looked back to his twin, obvious panic in his silver-blue eyes. At that moment, the bundle began to make noise. Vergil pulled back the top, revealing a baby with snow-white hair and-

Oh. That would explain the second aura. That would mean- Oh.

“They’re after my son, Dante.” Vergil said, his voice soft like the snow that fell around them. “I don’t know how they found out he’s related to me, to us, to our father. I’ve been chased for days, I need a place to hide to protect him. You know I wouldn’t come here unless I was desperate enough-”

“Just get inside.” Dante said, standing aside. “You better tell us what happened.” He added as he quickly reached over to snap the lights of his shop off, to make it look like they were closed. Vergil quickly got inside, ignoring Lady’s shocked glare. Dante shut the door quickly (and actually made sure to lock it!). He guided the two upstairs to the spare bedroom, the only clean room in the building. Closing the door behind them, he turned on the light. Vergil carefully sat down on the bed, still on edge, still looking surprisingly frazzled, before he laid the babe on the bed. The infant, now freed of the black blanket that he had been wrapped in, wiggled and looked around with wide blue eyes.

“What’s his name?” Lady asked, finally breaking the quiet. Vergil glanced to her, suspicious for a moment before forcing himself to relax.

“Nero.” Dante looked to the wiggling baby and immediately noticed suspicious pinpricks in his arm. He looked to Vergil, who met his gaze. Vergil let out a sigh and returned his gaze to Nero. “When I returned to Fortuna, I sensed him. I thought I was being fooled but…” He pressed his lips into a thin line, a hand stroking Nero’s snow-white hair. The infant grabbed his fingers and began to gum on them, something that Dante would’ve expected Vergil to recoil in disgust. To his surprise, Vergil didn’t move his hand away from his infant son. Perhaps, already, Nero had wormed his way into his brother’s stone cold heart. Vergil let out a sigh and continued. “The ruling force of Fortuna, the Order of the Sword, they had already found out who his grandfather was. I found him, screaming for someone to hear him but being ignored.”

“So you sauntered on in and casually committed a felony. Or multiple.” Lady interrupted.

“They were hurting my son.” Vergil growled. “I could not let that stand.”

“...I’d do the same, to be honest.” Dante admitted sheepishly. “But look at him!” he gestured to Nero, happily gumming at his father’s fingers. Lady let out a sigh.

“...yeah…” She looked to the twins, both enamored with the baby Nero casually gumming on his father’s fingers. “Look, Dante, this place isn’t even close to ready for a baby-”

“I know.” Dante nodded, stretching. “I know. I’ll call Morrison tomorrow to update him on the news, tell him not to smoke here and all that.”

“It’s not just that Dante.” Lady pointed out. “Making the place safe is one thing. Actually raising a kid is another.” Her eyes glanced to Vergil, who was busy with Nero. However, Dante knew he was listening. “This is going on your tab.”

“Aww come-” He paused. “Actually, nevermind.” He waved his hand. Lady blinked, normally he never just...took whatever debt she threw on him without complaining. “Best Christmas ever.”

“Better than free socks?” She asked, with a hint of a grin on her lips.

“Better than free socks.”

#dmcsecretsanta2020 #dmcsecretsanta #devil may cry #devil may cry dante #devil may cry vergil #devil may cry lady #devil may cry nero

36 notes · View notes

yourpaceangel · 4 years

Text

divine by loving

[Read on AO3]

It begins, on some sunny morning just weeks after the world was supposed to end, with a vase of flowers and a note. The lilacs are stunning, surrounded by baby’s breath and something green Aziraphale doesn’t remember the name of but looks lovely nonetheless. They’re the one bright spot amongst the dust motes and lazy spill of sunlight through half slotted blinds. A folded piece of paper, sealed with wax, sits beneath the vase and Aziraphale opens it as carefully as he can. Inside Crowley’s sprawling, carefully messy handwriting takes up only a small portion of the thick paper.

“My love has made me selfish. I cannot exist without you--“

He’s smudged the ink over the word ‘love’ like he couldn’t resist running a thumb over the word before the ink had dried. Aziraphale’s finger brushes over it and his lips pull into a smile. He puts the note down and has the phone cradled in his hand before he’s thought about what he’s doing.

Crowley, remarkably, picks up on the second ring.

“Hello dear,” Aziraphale says, looking at the lilacs, “I was wondering if you might want to get some lunch?”

*

Summer nudges its way into fall the way it has a tendency to do. The mornings grow crisp, sun coming into the sky later and leaving it earlier. The trees in St. James’ Park turn a multitude of spectacular colors. Vibrant purples, striking orange, muted gold. Aziraphale likes taking their walks in the early evening, before the sun has had time to set, after the heat of the day has already been bundled off and sent to bed. They walk, hand clasped in hand, down set paths with no real intention of going anywhere.

It’s nice. To finally be allowed this, to finally have the time.

“Robin,” Aziraphale says, pointing up at the sweet little redbreast hiding amongst the leaves. He’s always liked bird watching, and Crowley does too, though he sometimes complains that it leaves him feeling a little hungry afterward.

“Goldfinch,” Crowley echoes, gesturing with his head toward a bush.

They wind around the duck pond, stopping momentarily so Aziraphale can toss a handful of birdseed in their direction before starting off again. Overhead the sky turns a brilliant orange, clouds a cotton candy sugar pink spun thin and high above the trees. A bird arcs overhead, striking dark against the light.

“Blackbird.” Aziraphale says and Crowley looks up.

“Wonder if there are enough to make a pie.”

“Hush,” Aziraphale squeezes his hand.

Crowley’s thumb dances over the back of Aziraphale’s hand, rubbing absently at the skin there. “Dove,” Crowley says after a long silence.

“Yes, my dear?”

Crowley’s thumb stops rubbing and he pauses, thrown for a moment, before bursting into laughter. He points up into a tree at two doves, pressed close together.

“Oh,” Aziraphale says, feeling his cheeks heat.

Crowley tugs him toward a bench, under the nearby tree. “Would you like that?” He asks, “Names like that?”

“Crowley, don’t make fun--”

“I’m not!” He sits down, taking up half of the bench by himself. “I’m not, angel, I swear.” He takes both of Aziraphale’s hands with his own. “I just...I didn’t know you’d go for that, really.”

“I wouldn’t normally,” Aziraphale says, shuffling his feet, still standing, “it’s different when it’s you.”

Crowley’s lips form a little ‘o’, his eyebrows scrunching together like he’s thinking. “Angel,” He says, and this time it sounds deliberate. “Dove.” He kisses the back of one hand-- “Sunshine.” --and then the other. “My everything.” He tugs, so Aziraphale will bend down to kiss him and Aziraphale does, their noses bumping together briefly. He tugs again and Aziraphale falls willingly, resting his weight on Crowley’s lap, hands entwined. Crowley’s mouth tastes faintly like a burnt match might, but Aziraphale doesn’t mind it in the slightest. He opens his lips to let Crowley’s tongue touch his, a spark of heat at his core. “My one,” Crowley says against his mouth, breathless, “my only, my l--” He makes a sound like it hurts, like he’s bitten the inside of his mouth.

“Darling,” Aziraphale says, “dearest, starshine, my heart, my love.”

“Oh,” Crowley says and squeezes his hands, “Yes. Yes.”

They’re pressed so close now, cheek to cheek and chest to chest. It takes an age to separate themselves from one another. Long after the moon makes its way warm and full over the treeline, long after the stars began to show themselves, hazy balls of light so very far away.

*

Crowley makes himself comfy in Aziraphale’s reading chair, long limbs sprawled in odd directions in a way that shouldn’t be comfortable and certainly doesn’t look to be. He holds a glass of wine delicately in one hand, cradling the bottom of it like one would a newborn child. He looks good, pleasantly buzzed already, the tips of his ears a charming pink and his cheeks flushed. “I’m just saying,” Crowley says, gesturing with his other hand, his foot bouncing in the air, “I’m just-- what was I saying?”

Aziraphale laughs. He’s pleasantly drunk himself, his cheeks and the tip of his nose hot. “Roses?”

Crowley snaps his fingers and points at him. “Roses!” He declares, “Rotten for romance. Smell atrocious, all covered in thorns. Now the orchid, that’s-- that’s a fine flower.”

“Mm.”

“No bloody thorns on--” he takes a sip of his wine, nearly spilling it over his chin in his haste to continue talking, “No thorns on a good orchid. That’s all I’m saying.”

Aziraphale is tickled just watching him. The over exaggerated swing of his leg, the slump of his shoulders, the gentle flush of his face. Crowley puts down his wine glass, like he’s made a statement, crossing his arms over his lithe chest. Aziraphale doesn’t try to fight the smile that blooms across his mouth. “So you wouldn’t get me any?”

“Any what?”

“Roses,” Aziraphale says, teasing, “You wouldn’t get me any roses? Even if I asked?”

Crowley’s wild foot smashes into the end table and nearly sends his glasses and wine glass flying in his haste to sit up straight. “If you asked?” His eyes go wide, luminous. “Angel, I would get you the moon if you asked. Don’t you know?”

“Hm?”

Crowley opens his mouth but nothing comes out. He furrows his brows, looking bewildered. He opens his mouth again and then shuts it. “Come here,” He growls, reaching out a hand.

Aziraphale sets down his wine and goes.

The next morning there are orchids on his vanity, pale blue, like they’ve always been there.

*

Crowley opens the door of the Bentley for him. He looks dashing in a smart black suit, deep blood red shirt and black tie. His boots are so red they almost look black and Aziraphale wonders for a moment if they just look like snake skin or if Crowley has just taken to forming his feet to look like shoes. “Thank you, my dear.” Aziraphale says, kissing Crowley’s cheek as he gets into the car. He smooths a hand over his own grey suit, fiddling with the snake eye cufflinks as Crowley slides on the other side.

The Bentley roars to life, music spilling from its speakers almost immediately. Something soft and so sweet it makes Aziraphale rest his hand on Crowley’s knee and squeeze. “But touch my tears with your lips, touch my world with your fingertips, and we can have forever, and we can love forever.” Crowley peels out, cutting off two cars and scaring a flock of pigeons into flight, but his hand when he rests it atop Aziraphale’s is gentle.

“You have the tickets, of course?” Aziraphale asks, closing his eyes when Crowley drives over a curb to skip a roundabout and several cars blare their horns in fear and confusion.

“Course I do,” Crowley says happily, swinging wildly around a curve.

Aziraphale inhales sharply, digging his nails into Crowley’s knee, hearing Crowley’s answering laugh. “You could at least pretend to care about traffic laws.”

“What would I want to do that for?”

“Crowley--”

The Bentley slows considerably and Aziraphale feels Crowley pat the top of his hand. “You can open your eyes.” He sounds too amused for his own good.

Aziraphale peels one eye open and then the other, breathing out a relieved sigh. “Really, my love, it’s like you enjoy nearly giving me a heart attack every time we go somewhere.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Crowley says brightly. He pulls up outside the Royal Opera House. Cars aren’t meant to be parked here, but Aziraphale knows when they leave later there won’t be a parking ticket in sight. Crowley gives his hand a little squeeze and gets out first to open the door for him, offering his hand.

Aziraphale finds himself a little short of breath, if he’s honest. The light flashes off of Crowley’s feather cufflinks and Aziraphale smiles, taking his hand, letting himself be pulled up. Crowley guides him inside with a steady hand at the small of his back. He takes their tickets from his suit jacket, and Aziraphale barely makes out Orph…& Eur… from under Crowley’s thumb.

“Orpheus & Eurydice?” Aziraphale asks.

Crowley hums the affirmative. “Something new,” He explains and then frowns, “Unless you’d prefer--?”

“No, no. New is-- new can be good.”

“It’s not too late,” Crowley stops, letting people walk around them, “There’s a showing of Carmen tonight as well, and there’s always Tosca.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale reaches up to cup his face, fingers tracing briefly over the edge of his glasses, “It will be lovely, I’m sure.”

Crowley leans into him, blowing out a breath. “Just want to treat you right, angel.”

“You spoil me darling,” Aziraphale assures, pressing a delicate kiss to the corner of his mouth, his heart swelling in his chest, “You really do.”

“Deserve to be spoiled,” Crowley mumbles, clearing his throat and straightening back up, “Well, shall we?”

Aziraphale links their arms together, patting Crowley’s bicep. “After you.”

*

It’s a bad day. Winter has creeped its way into the bones of the bookshop and the little flat upstairs, shiny blades of ice clinging to the streets and windows. The cold makes Aziraphale’s leg ache, an ancient wound that shouldn’t bother him in his corporeal form but does nonetheless when the wind outside turns biting and brittle and brutal in it’s coldness. He lights the fireplace and leaves the space heater on but nothing seems to be able to chase the chill from the rooms.

Crowley is insufferable like this. He whines, he snaps, he sneers. He’s a snake through and through and nothing Aziraphale does is good enough.

“Let’s go away,” Crowley mutters, stomping around the bedroom in his silk pajamas and bundled in a thick wool blanket. “Let’s just go away.”

“Where?” Aziraphale snaps. He’s cold enough, sore enough, irritated enough that he can’t stop himself. “Alpha Centauri?” The way he says it does not come out nice.

Crowley freezes, shooting him a withering look. It’s enough of a sore spot that he goes back to bed, pulling the blankets back over himself.

“Really now,” Aziraphale says.

Crowley is blessedly, dreadfully silent.

“You’re being childish, Crowley.”

The blanket lump does not move.

“I’m going down to the shop,” Aziraphale sniffs. He does not slam the door shut behind himself, but only just barely.

The shop is colder than the flat and if anything it worsens his mood. He makes himself tea from the electric kettle in the back room and then promptly forgets about it, finding stacks of books to straighten and reshelve. He opens the blinds in the shop and then closes them again upon seeing the dismal, dreary gray streaked streets outside. He flops into his reading chair and massages his leg.

Upstairs he can hear the bump and thump of Crowley moving around, and then the shuffle of his feet on the stairs as he comes down into the shop. He’s still bundled in that blanket, cranky eyed and frowning, but he makes his way over to Aziraphale and settles himself into his lap.

Aziraphale starts at the feeling of ice cold fingers dipping under his jumper and he grabs them, bringing the hands up to his face. He breathes warm air over cool skin, rubs life into the fingers with his palms. Crowley sags against him, the fight draining out of the both of them at once. Crowley wiggles his hands free so he can knead Aziraphale’s leg, gently working the muscles around the sore spot. Aziraphale sighs against his cheek.

“I’m sorry,” Aziraphale says, hands digging into the blanket around Crowley’s shoulders to wrap around them both. “I’m having a bad day.”

“Me too.” Crowley says.

Aziraphale cradles Crowley’s face in his hands, brushing his nose over his temple before kissing his forehead.

Crowley’s hands dig a little harder into his leg. “Angel, I--” He takes a shaking breath and then shakes his head a little, “Nothing.”

“I love you,” Aziraphale says, running a thumb over Crowley’s cheekbone.

“Yeah,” Crowley says, his eyes a little wet, “that.”

*

“ I couldn’t utter my love when it counted. Ah, but I’m singing like a bird ‘bout it now. And I couldn’t whisper when you needed it shouted. Ah, but I’m singing like a bird ‘bout it now.”

Aziraphale follows the music to his kitchen. Crowley humming along in the early morning light filtering in through gossamer white curtains, his hands steady and sure as he chops vegetables and moves them into the pan. He’s bare except for a pair of boxers slung low on his hips. Aziraphale almost wants to lecture him on the dangers of cooking without proper clothes but instead has to lean against the doorframe to steady himself. There’s a gathering of scales at the small of Crowley’s back that glimmer like an oil slick in the soft sunlight, another little patch trailing up his neck and behind his ear. Aziraphale knows if he got a good look at the soles of Crowley’s feet he would have a delightful little patch of scales there as well. He’s enamored with the edges where pale skin meets smooth dark scale and has to hold onto his own hands to stop himself from touching.

“Good morning,” Aziraphale says.

Crowley starts, turning around. “I didn’t know you were up,” He says, cheeks pink, scratching at the back of his head. “I was going to bring you breakfast.”

“I heard music,” Aziraphale smiles, “I heard you singing.”

“Ah,” Crowley’s cheeks darken and he clears his throat, turning back around to add eggs to the pan. “That.”

Aziraphale can’t stand not touching him. He presses his chest to Crowley’s back and hugs his waist, tucking his chin over his shoulder. “Yes,” he agrees, kissing Crowley’s shoulder, “that.”

Crowley is quiet for a time. The kind of peaceful, relaxed quiet that means he’s just enjoying being in the moment. Aziraphale kisses those glittering scales behind his ears and smiles when Crowley shivers. “Pest,” Crowley hisses with no real bite. He smacks Aziraphale’s hand with his spatula. “If you’re going to be in here you might as well be useful. Set the table?”

“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale squeezes his waist, places a kiss to his bare shoulder, and goes.

*

The moonlight dripping in from the frost covered windows is gossamer soft, kissing sweetly over pale skin and dark scales, whispering across dark hair and eyelashes. Aziraphale watches him from across the room, propped against the doorframe as he is, reading glasses slipping down his nose and book in hand. Crowley sleeps rather a lot in the winter, and Aziraphale likes to watch him sleep.

There’s something vulnerable about Crowley in sleep. Awake he’s all coiled muscle and perpetual movement. Drumming fingers, thumping foot, taps of pens against the table. 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3. He is confident and cocky, headstrong, headsure, steadfast. He’s a barely concealed grin, a bubble of laughter, the wink of an eye. Asleep he is none of those things. Crowley asleep is something heartbreaking, heartbroken; fragile like the hollow bones of his wings. And trusting. Aziraphale knows he’s the only being alive that’s ever seen Crowley like this, fidgety hands finally still against the pillowcase, face unlined and unworried.

Aziraphale crosses the room and sits by him, smoothes the fringe back from his forehead with a gentle touch. Crowley rouses beneath him, just a little. “‘Ziraphale?” He mumbles, barely opens his eyes before he’s closing them again. Trusting and so very sweet.

“Yes, starshine,” Aziraphale says, “Just me. You can stay there.”

Crowley curves toward him like he’s magnetized, the way he has done every night since their first together. He feels a barely there kiss to his hip, Crowley’s face pressed against his leg and arm sliding up over his lap. “Like it here.” He mumbles, “Warm.”

Aziraphale hums and scratches at his scalp, drawing a hoarse groan from his love’s throat. Smiling, forgetting his book temporarily, he slips down until their nose to nose, sharing breath. Crowley cracks an eye at him. Smothers his own fond smile by pressing his mouth against Aziraphale’s.

Privately, Aziraphale thinks Crowley’s sleep soaked kisses are the sweetest ones. Not that he’d ever tell him that.

“Darling?” Aziraphale asks, breaking away.

Crowley hums in question, nosing along his jaw, his neck, finding where his pulse beats a wild rabbit pace against his skin and applies his lips and tongue.

Aziraphale shudders and tightens his hand in Crowley’s hair. “Focus, please.”

Crowley makes a rather fetching noise at that but obeys, picking his head back up to look at Aziraphale. He’s lovely like this too. Cheeks pink, eyes hazy with sleep and a little something more, lips red from kissing and sucking and biting.

“I brought a book with me,” Aziraphale says, “thought you might like to read it?”

“To you?” Crowley asks, sleepy soft and kiss dazed. “Give it here.”

Aziraphale passes him the book and they curl together, Crowley’s head on Aziraphale’s chest.

Voice soft, honey soaked with warmth and grand affection, Crowley began to read. “The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden...”

*

Spring comes in a bloom of flowers and sun scented air. There’s a carpet of wildflowers rolling past as Crowley drives them further into the countryside. They have no real destination planned, just the two of them and all the time in the world. The radio plays soft and sweet in the background. “You’ve captured my love, stolen my heart…” Aziraphale turns his head to watch Crowley. His face is relaxed, lax, a gentle smile playing at the corner of his mouth. Aziraphale squeezes his hand.

Crowley looks good like this, soft in the mid-morning light streaming in through the window as they pass fields of rolling green. Crowley brings their combined hands up and kisses the back of Aziraphale’s, his lips soft and warm against the back of his hand.

Aziraphale scoots as close as his safety belt will allow.

“We should stop to see Anathema and Newton,” Aziraphale says.

Crowley hums in acknowledgement, kissing Aziraphale’s hand once more before setting it back down. They’d already been heading in the direction of Lower Tadsfield. Crowley points the Bentley in the direction of Anathema’s cottage.

“It might be nice to bring them something, as well,” Aziraphale says, “that’s the thing to do, isn’t it? Bring someone a gift when you visit.”

“There’s a bottle of wine in the backseat.”

“Oh! Yes, that will be lovely.”

Crowley nods, his thumb rubbing circles against Aziraphale’s.

Aziraphale leans over to kiss his shoulder, lips against dark linen. “Then maybe we can go see the children. Wouldn’t that be nice, Crowley?”

“Whatever you want, angel,” Crowley says, a little strained, a little breathless, “We can do whatever you want.”

*

Sunlight filters through the new leaves of young spring trees, breaking across the red tartan blanket that Crowley had rolled his eyes at but packed fondly along with the tan wicker basket. Aziraphale isn’t ashamed to admit he took his time planning this picnic. Deviled eggs, finger sandwiches, a lovely little charcuterie board from the darling Italian deli in Soho, fresh bread from Flor, jam from the market in Tadfield, scotch eggs and wine and tea in a thermos that matched the blanket. And lastly a beautiful angel food cake that Crowley had made a cheery noise at and tried to keep for himself.

Crowley is spread out flat in the grass just a little bit away, soaking up the sun like, well, something cold blooded basking upon a rock. Music drifts between the two of them from Crowley’s phone, something smooth and slow and earthy. It’s all a bit romantic really. Aziraphale pops the last deviled egg in his mouth and hums, sucking the remains off his thumb.

“Crowley?”

Crowley turns toward him, smiles.

Two days ago Crowley had left a bouquet of sunflowers wrapped in butcher paper on the counter of his bookshop and a scribbled note about how beautiful the weather was to be over the weekend and they really ought to travel to the country more. Crowley frankly had all the subtlety of a fox in a hen house.

“Need something, angel?” Crowley asks.

An errant ant makes away with a crumb left over from the cake, empty plate glinting in the late afternoon sun. The wind curls along the grass and through Crowley’s hair like fingers. Aziraphale almost loathes to ask it, Crowley looks so comfortable; but he is weak and a little selfish.

“Come here?”

Crowley’s smile shifts into something soft, softer. “‘Course.” He falls into Aziraphale’s waiting arms and tugs him in close until Aziraphale is half laying on him on top of the picnic blanket. “Close enough?”

No, Aziraphale thinks, lips pressed to Crowley’s throat, never. If they shared a body maybe, maybe, but maybe not even then. “Yes,” Aziraphale says instead, “thank you, dear.”

“Don’t have to thank me,” Crowley mumbles, face buried in Aziraphale’s hair, “not for this.”

The wind ripples past, tickling the edge of his trousers, the edge of his coat catching and flapping. The grassy hill smells sweet but Crowley’s skin is sweeter pressed as it is under Aziraphale’s nose. He tangles his hand in Crowley’s waistcoat, just holding.

Crowley hums, boneless and lax beneath him, hands skimming and skipping over clothed skin and nothing at all. Wandering, wondering. Aziraphale catches a hand as it flies past and brings it to his mouth, pressing fleeting kisses to lily white knuckles and a calloused palm.

Music drifts over them sweetly, soft and cosy as a blanket. Aziraphale can’t remember the artists name but he likes it, ethereal and earthy and heady. Crowley makes a soft noise and nudges at him.

“Dance with me, I like this song.”

Hardly a request Aziraphale could ever turn down. Aziraphale pulls them both up to standing, Crowley keeping their hands tangled as they sway together.

“Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips, we should just kiss like real people do.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale breathes.

Crowley shivers against him. “Yeah,” he mumbles, and tilts his head down for a kiss.

*

There’s a note stuck to the mirror of his vanity, as there has been every morning since Crowley started staying the night.

Manila yellow with a painstakingly inaccurate little rose on the bottom it reads “But here we are and something about it doesn’t feel like an accident. / We’re all looking for something to adore / and how to survive the bending and breaking.”

Aziraphale takes it down with dove-light fingers, mouth a wobbly thing as he cradles the note in his hands.

In the top drawer of his vanity sits a box, an engraved silver case older than even his bookshop. Aziraphale opens it and places the note inside, atop the other notes, the many dried flowers, his ring from the sixteenth century, the pearls from the necklace he’d worn to Queen Elizabeth I’s coronation. A box much bigger on the inside than it seemed from the outside.

He runs his finger over a molted black feather before shutting the case and locking the drawer, his heart too big for his chest.

*

Aziraphale wakes up in his reading chair to Crowley tugging gently at his ear. “You’re getting old,” Crowley teases, grinning.

“‘M not.” Aziraphale grumbles, batting Crowley’s hand away.

“You are.” Crowley’s hand brushes his cheek, the curve of his jaw. “Sleeping in your reading chair like an old man.”

“Quiet, you.” Aziraphale says. He grabs Crowley’s dancing hands out of the air and tugs until he has the demon fully seated in his lap. Aziraphale noses at Crowley’s exposed neck, pressing a line of sharp kisses along the skin from jaw to collar bone. Crowley really does have lovely collar bones.

Crowley squirms. “No, angel, come on I have a surprise.”

“Hm.” Aziraphale bites down on Crowley’s shoulder.

“Ah- angel.” Crowley protests, trying and failing to sound cross.

“Oh alright,” Aziraphale says, soothing the bite with a kiss, “show me your surprise then.”

Crowley clambers out of Aziraphale’s lap and tugs until they’re both standing. He leads him upstairs, hands tangled, nudging open the door to Aziraphale’s flat with his foot. In the middle of the room is a claw foot tub, steam curling up in ribbons from the water. A low table nearby has a glass and bottle of wine and a box of chocolates. Sinatra is playing from the record table in the corner, “Fill my heart with song and let me sing forever more. You are all I long for all I worship and adore. In other words, please be true. In other words, I love you.”

“Oh,” Aziraphale breathes, his eyes wide.

“Surprise,” Crowley teases, squeezing his hand.

“Oh,” Aziraphale says again, “This is- you-“

There are times when Crowley smiles that Aziraphale thinks ‘I could not love you any more than I do now or I would overflow with it.’ This is one of those times. Crowley, smiling, soft and fond and teasing. The kind of smile you give someone you’ve loved your whole life. The kind of smile that comes from knowing and being known.

Aziraphale blinks, a little misty eyed, and draws Crowley against him for a kiss. Tastes all the love curled up there at the corners of Crowley’s mouth greedily, his hands caressing and touching where he can. He doesn’t pull away until Crowley is sufficiently weak kneed and pink cheeked, and even then he only draws back enough to knock their foreheads together.

“Marry me,” Aziraphale breathes.

Crowley breathes in sharply, eyes impossibly wide, and Aziraphale fears for a moment he might have made a mistake. Then Crowley clings to him, hands digging sharply into his waistcoat, and says, “Yes.” He sounds hoarse, like the thought has robbed him of all his air. “Yes.”

And that smile. There is nothing, not in Heaven or Hell or on Earth, as dear to Aziraphale as that smile. And he falls in love all over again.

#fic #mine #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #divine by loving #((previously titled you don't have to say i love you))

270 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

maoshiiro

I DEa†hNi I

gacktors

gacktors

sugar-vs-art

Sugar Draws

ttickles2

tickled pink

youtwitinmyface

J.R. LeMar