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eideticallys · 1 year

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Who Needs Time Management When I Have You?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: one of the many perks of having a boyfriend with flawless memory is that you do not have to remember stuff—he remembers them for you.

genre: tooth-rotting domestic fluff

word count: 1.5k

author's notes: i wrote this because domestic!spencer reid is a guilty pleasure of mine. i can definitely picture him as an attentive boyfriend because aside from the fact that he has flawless memory, he's an overall caring guy. with that said, i hope you'll enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing this! also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

ONE OF THE MANY PERKS OF HAVING A BOYFRIEND WITH FLAWLESS MEMORY IS THAT YOU DO NOT HAVE TO REMEMBER STUFF—HE REMEMBERS THEM FOR YOU. Do you have a dentist's appointment at 9? Covered. He will be waking you up at 7 with breakfast in bed. Your sister’s birthday is coming up. No worries! He has already ordered a bouquet ready to be sent on the day. It is amazing, and you thank your lucky stars for him every morning when you wake up and see him cozily sleeping beside you.

However, you were out of luck on the boyfriend angle today. You had your monthly—or if the BAU is free—girls' night scheduled tonight. As much as you enjoy having girls' nights with the BAU girls, Spencer also likes to spend some time out with the guys for a nightcap or something, whatever the men at the BAU enjoy when there is no case. And that means, your boyfriend is busy getting ready to go out as well. Although Spencer has never forgotten a thing in his life—even when he is on the brink of life and death—you do not want to stress him out even more by asking him what you think you have forgotten to prepare.

So, today when you were running around the house like a madman trying to collect the stuff you need to bring to Garcia’s for girls' night, you have no one else to blame but yourself. You have depended on your boyfriend to remember stuff for you that you always leave the preparation at the very last minute. At the moment, you believe you’ve never hated yourself as much as you did now, which is quite the feat considering that you’ve hated yourself a lot before for chickening out on confessing your feelings to boy wonder—your boyfriend, Spencer Reid—only to find out he shares the same feelings.

Scratch that, you hate your boyfriend right now more than you hate yourself.

Currently, that same boyfriend has been snickering nonstop at you dashing left and right and gathering the things you need to bring. Face masks? Check. Wine? Check. What else were you forgetting?

“You know, there’s this study that says only 82% of people have a time management system.”

Your ever-loving boyfriend, Spencer, decided to share. You were about to chuck the throw pillow at him because you could hear the I told you so in his voice, but you knew his fact-sharing and nagging was his unique way of saying, “I love you, but you could’ve remedied this problem by preparing the stuff you’ll need the night before.”

“No, I don’t, Spence. But, do tell.”

At this point, you’re pretty sure Spencer was sporting a shit-eating grin and was probably holding in a laugh at the strain in your voice from recalling whether you’ve got everything so you can head over to Garcia’s. You’re pretty sure Garcia is about to talk your ear off if you’re running late. You missed out on the last girls' night after you bailed on them, wanting to spend the night with Spencer, watching Star Wars, and eating takeout.

“There's a survey done recently which revealed that 90% of people say better time management can lead to increased productivity.” Spencer started explaining, hands waving around as if to demonstrate the numbers in front of him. “However, only 18% of people have a proper time management system.”

“And?”

“Well, it just reminded me of you.” Spencer pursed his lips now, as he tried to explain his thoughts without annoying you. “If you just had a proper time management system like a to-do list or a planner. You could save at least..” He stared at his watch and did the math, “You could save at least one hour and forty-three minutes of your time instead of panicking over whether you got all the things you need for girls' night.”

“I don’t need that when I have you. Don’t you think so?”

This made your boyfriend blush, and you giggled, heading towards his direction, so you could wrap your hands around his waist and bury your face into his chest. You were the luckiest person alive for getting to date someone as wonderful as Spencer.

What you just said would not have made anyone flush and nervous, but Spencer was different. You knew he’s never been in a formal relationship with anyone before you. Thus, from time to time, he still gets embarrassed by your antics which you’ll always be endeared by. You live to see your boyfriend getting flustered because it gives you a reason to shower him with affection like now.

“I love you too, Spence.”

You looked up at your boyfriend, who looked like he was about to burst from your directness. You and he may deal with a lot of blood and gore during work, but he can be the most fainthearted person alive when it came to your affections.

“B-but I didn’t say I love you..” He trailed off, confused as to why you were suddenly proclaiming your love for him. You grinned even more as you pinched the tip of his nose.

“You didn’t have to, Spence. I know your nagging is one way of you saying you love me, and I love you for that.”

Spencer scrunched his nose and rubbed the back of his neck out of shyness. If you could keep him in your pocket for safekeeping, you would. He’s just too precious for this world.

“But, as much as I love you, I know just as much that Penelope will have my ass kicked by Emily if I get to her house late,” you broke free from your boyfriend’s comfy arms, checking the bags you packed while doing so. “I have to go, baby. I think I got everything I need.”

Picking up your bag and care package, you ruffled your boyfriend’s brown locks, which made him frown a bit and sigh. You snickered at his reaction and proceeded to walk towards the front door. You were about to reach the staircase just outside your shared apartment when you realized something.

You forgot your car keys.

Berating yourself in your head, you were certain once you entered that door, Spencer would be on your case like a mother duck. He can be too fretful when it comes to you. Oh well, that is one thing you love about him. Huffing, you slowly turned the doorknob and found Spencer leaning on the wall just inside the door with his arms crossed, looking at you smugly. You rolled your eyes.

One thing about Spencer Reid is he can be a cocky little shit when proven right. And that happens most—if not all—the time, with his IQ of 187 and eidetic memory. Unfortunately for him, he also happened to date a cocky little shit—you—who likes to fluster the living lights out of him. And right now, you just thought of the perfect way to get back at him.

But first, your car keys. Spencer next.

Once you have retrieved the pesky item—like it’s the car keys’ fault, you forgot to get them—you turned towards the door, not paying any attention to your boyfriend, who was already cracking up at you. Only when you’ve reached the door, your back towards Spencer, did you smirk. Oh, he’ll never know what’s coming to him. You did a U-turn and

“Forgot something, sweetheart?”

“Why, yes I did, Dr. Reid,” you stated plainly, beelining towards him, making him take a few steps back until he ended up with his back against the wall. He's so easy to fluster. "I forgot to do this."

You slanted your head and pressed your lips against his. Your bodies were snug against each other as you kissed heatedly against the wall. You could feel the flutter of his long lashes against your cheeks as he parted his lips slightly to kiss you deeper. You could taste your shared breath, smell his faint perfume, and feel the slight scruff of a stubble about to show up. Warmth blossomed in your chest when you felt Spencer caress your face as if you were fine porcelain.

Kissing Spencer Reid never gets old in your books. Despite his lack of romantic experience and being the eager researcher that he was, Spencer was an eager lover—he would kiss you every chance he'd get to know how to please you, which paid off, by the way. This may be a biased opinion but you think the best kisses you have shared were with Spencer.

However, like all good things, kissing Spencer has to end, or Garcia will have you banned from her house for running late.

You pulled away from Spencer and grinned at him, to which he returned with a stunned smile. You chuckled when you noticed your lipstick smudged on the corner of his lips and brushed a finger to erase it. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to be the subject of Morgan's teasing once they're together after this. Noticing the daze your boyfriend is under is about to wear off, and he was about to say something, you beat him to it by pressing a smooch on his nose and pulling away completely.

"I gotta go, Dr. Reid. Don't miss me too much!"

You scampered towards the door and shot a wink at your bewildered boyfriend—who was now sputtering in indignation for interrupting what he was about to say. He is so cute.

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 6 months

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May I request the FNAF movie with a reader possessing Sparky? They’re an adult or in their late teens as opposed to the kids. They don’t “wake up” often but when they do they have a commanding presence over the others.

YES thank you for this Sparky ask-

15 year old me would have flipped her lid if she knew a FNAF 1 hoax would become canon in a movie

........

First...it was the distant muffled screams that awakened your systems, mechanical eyelids slowly fluttering open.

Then..there were louder sounds. Clearer sounds:

A woman's screaming cut short.

Bones crunching.

Flesh squelching.

And finally, something heavy hitting the floor with a thud.

Only then were you fully alert.

As your optics adjusted to the dimness of the backstage room, you realized that it wasn't just the old costumes and springlock suits that were keeping you company.

Freddy was here, too...with half a human corpse laying at his feet.

Your eyes widened out of shock.

Although you've seen him and the others kill before, what he did to that woman was quite abhorrent.

You didn't even think was possible for him to-

"You're awake."

Blinking, your head turned to see the Golden Freddy suit lingering by the door, standing up. His mouth didn't move, but you could tell from his single functioning eye, which was pulsating with a soft blue glow, that the child possessing him was talking to you.

All you could do was glare, your suit's mouth opening. "What is the meaning of this? Why are you letting them act like animals?" Your voice spoke.

In the blink of an eye, he was replaced by a blond boy in a striped shirt. He walked over to you, taking your paw and helping you stand. "It's not me. Some bad people broke in and tried to hurt them. Three others were with her, but they've all been taken care of."

As annoyed as you wanted to be, you knew you couldn't blame them for wanting to protect themselves.

Hell, you didn't even know what fully happened.

Maybe it was justifiable.

"Fine. Bring them here so we can hide the evidence...assuming we have enough room to hide all of it, of course."

The boy just smiled innocently, pointing to where you were sitting.

"Don't worry, there's always enough room for everyone."

You briefly looked to the empty purple Freddy suit that laid in pieces beside you, huffing. "I guess it'll do...I just hope they didn't leave too much of a mess-"

When you looked back to where the boy was, he had vanished completely.

He liked doing that a lot.

You're just relieved that there's at least ONE person you could talk to after being stuck in this pizzeria for.....

For.....

It suddenly occurred to you that you had genuinely forgotten how long you've been here. And the same holds true for the other children...who couldn't even remember their own names anymore. Now they only respond to the names of their characters.

Although there were significant gaps in your memories of being alive, your latest one was of the day you saw a yellow rabbit leading some kids away--taking them one at a time to show them a "backstage tour".

After the fifth one vanished, you followed him, but for some reason....he got angry that you did so.

It's like he didn't want you to see something.

Next thing you knew, you woke up, looking through the eyes of Sparky the Dog--a character you remembered from a diner that once collaborated with Freddy's for a short time.

At some point he was retired, as he kept breaking down while performing to the point where the owner didn't wanna keep repairing him.

And so Sparky--and you--were shoved backstage, being used for nothing more than spare parts.

Unfortunately, that led to you scarcely waking up and roaming like the rest of the Fazbear Band. But whenever you did, they all seemed to listen to you for some reason, doing whatever you asked of them like obedient dogs.

Ironic, considering you were the one possessing a dog.

However it seems you've woken up a tad bit too late this time, as apparently a group of adults have broken into the place, and without your guidance, the gang took it upon themselves to deal with it how ever they could.

But it seems they left quite the bloody mess...or at least Freddy did, given the red stains on his teeth.

You approached him, stopping only to point at the half-eaten body. He seemed to recognize your expression as the "I'm not mad, just disappointed" look, and his ears flattened in slight shame.

If only he could talk to you so he could explain himself..

Before you could give him an order, the doors creaked open, and you both turned around to see Bonnie, Foxy, and Chica slowly filing into the room.

Each of them dragged in their own brutally-slain victim, the intruders he must have been talking about:

Bonnie brought a man who had blood oozing from his mouth, palms covered in the same sticky substance.

Using his bloodstained hook, Foxy struggled to carry the weight of a younger man covered in deep gash marks and bite wounds on his head.

And in Chica's grasp was another man whose face had been chewed off by her Cupcake--arguably the most brutal way a person could die.

All at once, they stopped and dropped the corpses to the ground, staring at you and awaiting further directions.

You assessed each one before turning just your eyes towards the wall where you often sat deactivated, pointing to the various suits laying there.

Immediately, they knew what to do, and you also got to work helping them hide the "evidence" and making these intruders part of the band.

Forever and ever

#clanask #anonymous #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf movie x reader #fnaf sparky #animatronic reader #fnaf movie spoilers

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1-800-hwahui · 1 year

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romance at mistletoe inn

member | seungcheol x reader genre | smut, some fluff word count | ~4,600 warnings | reader has a vagina and breasts, unprotected sex, very very soft dom!cheol, sub!reader, wap reader, monster cock cheol, like seriously his dick is BIG, size kink (it comes with the territory wbk), strength kink (?), oral (m receiving), oral (reader receiving), grinding, deepthroating, motorboating, praise, slight manhandling, creampie (they don't talk about reader taking birth control so PLEASE do not be like them irl), cursing, cheol is Whipped, they hold hands :(, teeny bit of aftercare oops sorry, reader's mom accidentally cockblocks, please ignore that the plot actually makes Zero sense this is just pure sex atp notes | this is a nsfw sequel to a sfw fic on my main writing blog @junkissed called mistletoe inn! however, this can be read as a stand alone, you don't have to have read the other part to know what's going on here. for the heathen @onlymingyus. i hope you enjoy. p.s. thanks to @duhnova @heartkyeom for making me insane while i wrote this. i know i say this every time but this time i mean it when i say this is definitely the filthiest thing i have ever written - 💒 june

a knock on cheol’s door brings him out of the book he’s reading. it’s late in the evening and it hasn’t stopped snowing all day, leaving everyone at the inn snowed in. at least for the next day or so until the city snow plow comes around. he slides a bookmark into the pages and sets it on his nightstand, grinning as he walks towards the door.

as it usually is every winter, the inn is practically empty, except for one guest. it’s a small town, and people don’t come to stay unless they’re visiting friends or family.

cheol’s really enjoyed talking with you the last few days. he’s learned that you came to surprise your parents, but they’d actually left town without telling you to spend their christmas in hawaii, leaving you alone in a city where you don’t know anyone.

he doesn’t mind being your friend for the week you’re here– in fact, he loves it. you’re great company, and after a little not-so-subtle prying he’s also learned you’re single. with your work less than an hour away by plane, the distance isn’t bad, and if he’s been reading the situation right, he’s hoping you might feel the same. it’s been too long since he’s taken a break, since he’s traveled out of the little town he’s lived in all his life. maybe it’s time to pass the inn along to someone else in his family. but for now, one step at a time.

of course, it’s you standing on the other side of the door. he can’t help the way his face lights up when he sees you. “hey, what’s up?”

you smile back shyly. “just bored. are… are you busy?”

he grins. “not anymore.”

“do you maybe, wanna, come to my room?” you ask. “i made cocoa.”

“of course i would,” he says, shutting his door with a quiet squeak.

fifteen minutes later the cocoa is long forgotten as you desperately press your lips against seungcheol’s, hands roaming everywhere across each others’ bodies.

you’re suddenly very grateful that you packed your nice pair of panties for a trip that was supposed to be for visiting your parents. and you’re also very grateful that you wore them tonight, just in case.

the muscles in his shoulders flex as he yanks his shirt up and off with one swift movement. you watch, until his hands are back on you, whining as he pulls on the hem of your sweater. you giggle and lift your arms so he can help you tug it over your head.

“can i?” he breathes, reaching for your bra, his gaze fixated on your chest.

you nod, and strong arms wrap around you, carefully unhooking your bra behind your back. you hold the fabric in place with your hands as his fingers tenderly slip the straps down your shoulders.

when you finally let go, allowing the material to fall to the floor, seungcheol inhales sharply. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he rasps.

he looks up at you for permission, and you smile. hands still clasped behind your back, he pulls you over to the chair by the couch, sitting down so his face is level with your chest.

his hands glide over your skin, pushing your breasts together and shoving his face in between them with a groan that reverberates in your ribcage. you moan and he lets go, hands skating down your sides to rest at your hips as he leaves wet kisses along the curve of your boobs.

your fingers find his head, weaving up through his hair. he shakes his head back and forth and his hands grab at your ass, roughly kneading the skin. his mouth moves to one of your nipples, lips wrapping around it and sucking lightly.

his lips leave your breast with a pop, half-lidded eyes looking almost drunk with pleasure. you shimmy out of your pants, throwing them out of the way but keeping your panties on.

cheol’s eyes widen and his hands fumble to remove his own jeans, shaking as he slides them down his muscular legs.

you sink down onto your knees, settling between his legs. he groans when you look up at him with wide eyes, tentative hands resting on his thighs. god, his thighs… just one is probably bigger than your entire head.

your fingers dance at the band of his underwear, nervously toying with the elastic but not going any further yet. he’s only half-hard beneath the fabric, but you can already tell he’s big, way bigger than you’re used to.

you must’ve paused for too long, because he reaches down to cup your cheek, bringing your gaze back up to his. “what’s wrong, baby?” he asks gently, his voice breathy and low.

your cheeks heat up, not used to hearing that pet name on his lips. “um, you’re just, uh… big,” you squeak out, a little embarrassed to admit to him.

his expression softens, relieved that he hasn’t done anything to hurt you (yet). “you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, his tone lightening a bit.

immediately you shake your head, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. “i want to,” you say sincerely. “just– don’t know if i can.”

he smiles like you’ve just told him he won the lottery– and with you, he might as well have. “we’ll go slow,” he promises.

you exhale and gently tug at his underwear, finally releasing his cock. it’s big, like you expected, and covered in pretty veins. you wrap your hand around him, but he’s so big, your thumb and index finger aren’t even close to touching. so you add your other hand, completely gripping him, and he moans at the sight of his cock resting in your tiny hands.

you’re just about to put your lips around his tip when you hear your ringtone go off. you whine in annoyance at being interrupted and move your head away from him, taking your hands off of his cock and laying them on his thighs.

“who is it?” you ask, nodding up at your phone on the table next to seungcheol.

he groans at the loss, but leans over to check your phone for you. “uh, it’s ‘mom’?”

you whine and reach out your hand. “give it here.”

“baby, please,” he grumbles, handing it down to you.

“i’ll be quick,” you whisper before accepting the call. he pouts and leans his head back against the back of the chair, staring at the ceiling.

“hi mom,” you say into the phone, your voice coming out a little breathier than you intend.

“hi sweetie! how’s your trip going so far? sorry again that we missed you,” she starts, and you know you’re in for a long phone call. the woman could talk for hours, days even, and now is definitely not the time.

when you look up, seungcheol is staring at you again, a mischievous grin on his face. he puts a finger to his lips, signaling you to be quiet, then hooks his arms under you to help you stand. his hands slide to your hips, guiding and pulling you down onto his lap.

“mom, i’m– a little busy right now,” you choke out, trying your damn hardest to keep your voice steady with cheol’s hands on you.

“oh?” the surprise is evident in your mother’s voice. “i thought you didn’t have any plans? did you find something fun to do? you better not be working on work, i told you you’ve been needing a vacation for way too long! your boss can have whatever it is in the new year, you–”

cheol grips you tightly, rolling your hips against his dick, and you have to slap your hand over your mouth to stop yourself from whimpering out loud. he looks up at you, wordlessly asking if you want him to stop.

you squeeze your eyes shut and shake your head. as much as it mortifies you fooling around while you’re literally on the phone with your own mother, the thrill of being caught only turns you on even more.

“no, mom, i’m not working, but i am– busy,” you interrupt.

“well, do you want me to call back in a bit?” you can hear the frown in her voice, the tone she gets when she knows you’re lying.

“no!” you cry out as your clit rubs against the head of seungcheol’s cock, giving you a jolt of pleasure. “i–mean, i’ll call you later. when i’m done,” you recover, hoping to god she hasn’t noticed anything off about you.

“sweetie… are you at the gym?” she questions, and you breathe a sigh of relief that it doesn’t seem like she’s caught on to what you’re really doing. “i’m so proud of you, honey, i know you’ve been trying to do that more lately! well, i’ll leave you be then. have a good workout!”

well, you will be having a workout today… just not the kind she’s thinking of.

“th-thanks,” you stutter. suddenly cheol thrusts hard against you, and the movement makes you lose your balance and fall forward a little. you catch yourself on him, your hand flat against his firm chest. “bye, mom.”

“bye, sweetie! have fun!”

he shoots you a satisfied smirk and you sit back as you fumble to hang up as fast as you can, tossing your phone on the carpet behind you and climbing back down onto your knees.

you finally wrap your lips around him, fingernails gripping his thighs as you struggle to take him in your mouth. not only is he long, but he’s girthy, and you have to stretch your mouth open wide to fit him in. even then, you can’t fit all of him, so you put both hands back around the base of his cock where your mouth can’t reach and you begin slowly bobbing up and down, swirling your tongue around him.

his hips buck up roughly into your mouth and instantly tears prick at your eyes. “sorry,” he moans, but you just shake your head and keep going. he grips down hard on the armrests of the chair to stop himself from moving.

you can feel him hitting the back of your throat with every move and you know your mouth is gonna hurt like a bitch later, but the almost melodic sound of his moans is enough to make you want to have his dick in your mouth forever. knowing that it’s you making him feel like this could give you enough energy to suck him off for days on end.

your abdomen throbs with neglect, but the weight of his cock in your mouth is too good to stop. if you didn’t literally need both hands to fit all the way around him, you would’ve already started touching yourself, but both your hands are… occupied elsewhere.

desperate for any kind of stimulation, you press your thighs together, shifting to rub them against each other. at the angle you’re kneeling you can feel the thin fabric of your panties pressing against your pussy, and you buck your hips, trying to get the lace to give you what you want.

but it’s nowhere near enough, and seungcheol notices when you whine frustratedly around his cock, eyes squeezed shut and hands shaking. he grips your head carefully, pulling you off of him with a groan.

you look up at him with watery eyes and he takes in the sight, your mascara smeared and running down your cheeks and your eyes red and wet from choking around him for so long.

“can i eat you out? please?” he practically begs, breathing heavily.

“o-okay,” you rasp, the words coming out hoarse.

his eyebrows furrow as he catches his breath. he’d tried so hard not to go rough on you, to stop himself from fucking your throat. it’s only your first time with him, and he really, really hopes it won’t be the last, so he’s mentally kicking himself for losing control.

you see his worried expression, so you cough, trying to clear your throat. “i’m fine,” you reassure him, voice a little less coarse than before but still more than he would’ve liked.

“are you sure?” he asks cautiously.

“mhm. please,” you whimper.

he smiles and wraps his arms around you, helping you stand. your knees crack and he looks concerned again, but you shake your head. “just sore from kneeling. don’t worry.”

you give him a reassuring look, and he finally relents. suddenly he lifts you with terrifying ease, carrying you across the room to toss you onto the bed like nothing.

he climbs on top of you, his face hovering over your lower half.

“you gonna give me a few, baby?” he asks, his tone saccharine sweet. “gotta prep you enough.”

you croak out a yes, watching his movements with vigilance as his calloused fingertips play with the delicate hem of your panties, teasing.

but he doesn’t move any further, just stares up at you through his eyelashes, and you assume he’s waiting for you to say something.

“p-please?” you sniffle, thinking maybe he wants you to beg him for it. and he does, and you would, but you both know that’s for another time.

he presses a light kiss to your cunt over the fabric, moaning into your skin. “god, you’re so good for me, baby. gonna give you everything you want.”

as much as he wants to rip your pretty little underwear off your body and eat you out like his last meal, he knows he has to start slow, give you both a chance to get used to what the other likes instead of jumping straight into the deep end.

so he keeps his eyes locked with yours as he slips the lacy fabric down your hips, carefully so as not to tear them by accident.

you’re embarrassingly wet from nothing at all, your panties completely soaked through. a thin string of your arousal connects from your cunt to the fabric, and he groans lowly, watching it break.

his gentleness is unbelievably hot, and you can’t deny that him being so deliberate with taking them off makes you want to let him rip them off of you in a heartbeat. so what if they’re your favorite pair? you’d buy ten pairs to replace them if you have to.

you lift your legs, helping him slide your panties off so he can toss them away. he settles back down and tenderly pries your thighs apart, setting each leg to the side and leaving you wide open for him. he stares at your pussy for a moment, glistening with wetness. his intense, focused attention on you makes you gush, your muscles clenching around nothing as he watches enraptured. using two fingers he spreads your folds apart, exposing your dripping hole to his fervent gaze.

“cheol,” you mewl out his name in desperation.

“‘m right here, baby,” he says, his eyes flicking up to your face for a second to make sure you’re okay. you nod, silently begging him to continue. he cups your pussy, and the feeling of sheer size as his massive hand envelopes you is enough to send a shiver down your spine.

automatically your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his palm as you toss your head back and forth against the pillows, grateful to finally feel some relief.

he coos and you throw your arm over your face in embarrassment at his reaction, sheepish about being so desperate for a man you only met a couple of days ago. but his response isn’t to tease you or degrade you, but to admire you. so needy, so beautiful. and for right now, all his.

his hand still cupped against you, he slowly slips his ring and middle finger into your hole, letting out a pleased hum when you immediately clench around him.

“so wet for me, baby,” he sighs, gently curling his fingers inside you but otherwise keeping them still to let you adjust. “you’re so fucking sexy.”

you whimper, and he removes his fingers, seeing you’re ready for him to give you what he promised. even after being inside you for only a few seconds his fingers are soaked, completely coated in your juices. he looks up at you to see if you’re still comfortable with everything he’s doing, and when you open your mouth without hesitating even for a second, he thinks he might cum on the spot.

“so well behaved,” he praises, pushing his fingers into your waiting mouth. you close your lips around them eagerly, sucking yourself off of him in earnest.

you sigh when he pulls them out again, moving back down to sit between your still-open legs. he presses a gentle kiss to the inside of both your thighs before pushing his face into your waiting pussy.

when his mouth first makes contact with your cunt, you let out a high whine, back arching off the bed in pleasure. his lips completely surround your swollen clit, and your hand flies down to his head, gripping his hair as your hips writhe against his face.

his tongue is everywhere, gliding over every inch of you, licking and sucking and working you towards your orgasm impossibly fast. you can feel your clit throbbing in his mouth, and your breath hitches when he grazes his teeth over it, making you jolt.

his hands loop around your hips, spreading the skin and forcing you open so he has better access to your cunt.

heat pools in your stomach and you feel the familiar burn start to build in between your legs. “co-coming,” you gasp. “cheol, i’m–”

he groans into your cunt in response, sending waves throughout your body.

you sneak a glance down at him. his eyes are squeezed shut as he devours you, fucking you with his tongue with the most blissful look on his face, as if there isn’t anywhere in the world he would rather be right now than with his face buried in your pussy and your thighs trembling around his head.

the sight alone is enough to send you over the edge, muscles contracting and fingers grabbing desperately at the sheets to ground you as you stumble into your orgasm.

your whines stick in your throat as you gasp for breath, vision going white as you cum harder than you ever have in your life. no vibrator on earth could compare to the way seungcheol feels between your legs— and you’ve got quite the collection of toys back at home.

he keeps sucking, carrying you through your orgasm until you flop back on the bed, thoroughly exhausted. he finally pulls off of you for just a second, catching his own breath.

“god, can’t wait to get my cock in you,” he murmurs before diving back in, barely giving you time to recover before he’s building you back up for another.

you sob out his name as his tongue slips inside your hole and back out, dragging up and down your folds and spreading your juices everywhere. you can feel it dripping down your thighs and onto the comforter below.

“coming, coming, please, cheol, please, i–” you pant, struggling for words.

instinctively your legs snap shut around his head, trying to hold him in place, but he easily pries them apart again as you hurtle towards another orgasm. you cum on his tongue, again, sobbing his name like it’s the only word you know.

when he finally decides you’re ready to take his cock, you’re nothing short of a mess. pretty face smeared with makeup and tears, pretty cunt smeared with cum and saliva. he sits back on his heels, admiring how you look. your eyes flutter shut, chest heaving as you gasp for air, and he thinks he hasn’t seen a more beautiful sight in his life.

“you okay, baby?” he hums, massaging your thigh.

a weak “yes” is all you can manage. he runs a hand over your skin soothingly, this time giving you plenty of time to recover.

when you’ve finally caught your breath enough to sit up, he’s still watching you cautiously.

“all right?” he asks, and you nod. “if you’re done, we don’t have to keep going…” he starts, but you stop him, shaking your head.

“i told you before, i want to,” you say, taking his hand and lacing your fingers with his.

he smiles, and you lay back down, pulling him on top of you. he adjusts back in between your legs, positioning himself at the entrance of your pussy. he drags his cock through your folds, collecting what’s left of his frantic makeout session from earlier and spreading it over his length, using it as lubrication.

still holding your hand, he starts to press into you, just barely the tip. you gasp as he keeps going, carefully pushing inch after inch into your tight hole.

you squeeze his hand and he freezes, not even halfway inside yet. “okay?” he murmurs, rubbing your hand with his thumb.

“yeah, just– one second, please,” you stutter, breathing hard.

he wants to kiss you, so badly, but he can’t bend over without moving and hurting you. so he settles for bringing your entwined hands to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your hand.

the new feeling subsides, the pain of being split open beginning to lessen as you adjust to his size.

“you can… keep going,” you exhale softly.

he nods and starts to push in again, stuffing you full. it takes a while, but when finally he bottoms out, you both let out moans: him at the feeling of your tight hole clenching around him, and you at the feeling of being so full in the best ways.

after staying still to give you more time to adjust, he begins to pick up the pace, starting slowly and gradually building up until he’s pounding into you.

your back slides up and down the bed, each thrust sending you closer and closer to the wall above your head. attentive as ever, cheol notices, and stills his hips for just a second so he can grab your waist with both hands and yank you down away from the headboard. you yelp and clutch at his back, holding on for dear life as he continues pounding into you.

the bed squeaks with each thrust, and for a split second you worry about breaking the bedframe and having to pay for the damage. but then seungcheol is brushing your hair out of your face and cradling your head between his forearms, and all the thoughts in your head disappear when he stares into your eyes, your faces inches apart.

“can i– kiss you?” he groans, his eyelashes fluttering.

“please, ch-cheol,” you gasp. your hands claw at his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer.

he leans down, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours, somehow too gentle and too rough at the same time. your senses seem to explode, so much happening at once, and you move your hands up to the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair and tug, pushing him to kiss you deeper.

he moans into you, a deep, rumbling sound you feel all the way in the pit of your stomach. his thrusts get rougher and rougher, and you know he’s getting close. he pulls his lips off of you with a gasp. “whe–where do you want me to–”

“inside,” you plead, your voice coming out throaty. “please, cheol, inside, please–”

he cuts you off and captures your lips again, moaning into your mouth. his hips continue to rut into you desperately and you can only hold on, coming closer and closer to your own orgasm.

you can feel him throb deep in your abdomen, the tip of his cock kissing your walls with each snap of his hips. he shifts slightly and suddenly he’s fucking you like you’ve never felt before. the new angle has you seeing stars, and you clench around him, letting out a choked sob as you come undone on his cock.

your hoarse voice crying out his name over and over again while you quiver in his arms is too much for him, and with a guttural moan he lets go, his own orgasm washing over him and flooding your insides with his cum.

his hips begin to slow, rocking into you with a lazy rhythm as you both come down from your highs. his arms still surround either side of your head, and he moves his wrist to brush your hair out of your face. your hair is sticky with sweat and your eyes are puffy from crying, your mouth hanging open slightly as you struggle to catch your breath.

cheol lays on top of you, resting his head on your chest but careful not to put his full weight on you, letting you cockwarm him for a while. you’re both exhausted and you just lay there together, basking in the afterglow of pleasure.

but as much as you never want the moment to end, you can feel his cum leaking out of you, and you know you probably look like a horrible mess. you whine and push weakly at his shoulders, making him sit up quickly in concern.

“could you… in my bag,” you mumble, pointing a shaky hand towards your cosmetic bag. “m-makeup wipes.”

he slides off of you, leaving a sweet kiss on your forehead before crossing the room to grab them for you. you stay laying on your back, staring at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what just happened.

“here,” cheol says softly, handing you the wipes. you give him a faint smile and prop yourself up on your elbows. you wince when you sit back on your tailbone, sore from how hard seungcheol had fucked you.

he sits at the edge of the bed and gives you an apologetic pout, knowing it’s mostly his fault. “do you… need anything?” he asks shyly, not sure what you need him to do.

“stay?” you ask, voice small. “gonna have to shower, and i’ll– um, need help,” you finish. there’s no chance you’ll be able to walk straight for at least the next few hours, let alone stand in the shower by yourself.

he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh, rubbing at the bruises that have started to form there. “i’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

you scrub at your face, getting the last of the mascara off your cheeks before tossing the dirtied wipe into the trash can by the nightstand.

with a bit of effort, you manage to throw your legs over the side of the bed, sitting at the edge. you glance behind you at the bed covered in both of your fluids, and you wince, knowing most of it is your fault. “sorry about the sheets,” you whisper, resisting the urge to hide your face in embarrassment.

“baby, we’ll wash them,” he smiles. “don’t worry about it.”

“okay,” you say quietly. you look over to cheol, still sitting beside you, and reach out with both hands for him to help you up.

he jumps up, taking your hands and tugging you to your feet. your legs wobble when you stand, and he slides his arm around your waist to support you as he helps walk you to the bathroom.

you flop down onto the toilet while seungcheol starts the shower, and you have to hold back a laugh at the sight. the buff, sexy innkeeper, butt-ass naked in your bathroom, leaning over the edge of the tub to test the water temperature and make sure it’s not too hot for you.

you know you’re only here for a week, but you could really get used to this.

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thedgeoftheuniverse · 1 year

Text

These Burdens We Carry.

Joel Miller x f!reader

word count: 4.9k

WARNINGS: swearing, typical tlou violence, way too much angst, plot that actually isn't plot i just like using words, poorly written light smut (MINORS DNI) oral, fem receiving, sprinkle of a praise kink, multiple orgasms. (please let me know if i forgot any!)

a/n: this is my first time writing any semblance of smut so i went very very light, pls be kind <3

gif is not mine!!!!!!

near death experiences have a way of bringing people together.

you're in need of a release and joel is happy to provide it for you.

Twenty-one years.

Twenty-one years and still, try as you might, you never got used to the smell—the stench—of death. The putrid odor of decay, one that could only come from the extinguishing of a life, no matter how rotten the soul was. Though you tried to convince yourself otherwise, tried to tell yourself that you had done this more times than you could count—how did it ever get to this?—and that at this point, there should've been nothing left in the world to rattle you, the stench always managed to find a way to offend your nasal passages and twist your gut in the cruelest of ways. The smell was the worst part about killing.

You would never be like him.

Maybe that was a good thing.

Then again, he seemed to carry so little weight on his shoulders, or maybe he had carried it for so long that the muscles in his shoulders had strengthened to accommodate the pressure—the weight of the world became a small child riding on his back, holding itself up with its legs locked around his waist, never growing in height or weight. It was a cruel metaphor, however, it made sense when looking at him and the way the muscles in his back rippled underneath his denim shirt and his arms seemed almost too big for the sleeves. A lifetime of carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man.

There was something—everything—about Joel Miller that you admired. The way his graying hair gently curled at the ends, signaling it was time for a haircut; the way his eyes told you everything his mouth couldn't say aloud; the way his rough, calloused hands held you when the night was so dark and the universe caved in on your chest, leaving you completely breathless. His emotions were long shut off—carrying the weight of the galaxy does that to a man—but there were small glimpses into the man he used to be that he saved just for you. It was enough.

Most of the time.

But, that day, you needed the Joel Miller that existed twenty-one years ago, and while he was slowly beginning to find a semblance of that man again, the real Joel Miller died a long time ago. What he had found was an echo of a distant memory that had been long snuffed out, table scraps that would be fed to the dogs. You feared it wouldn't be enough for that day. You needed more, and you didn’t know if he managed to find it. If he had, he did not make a habit of showing it to you. Maybe that was a piece he saved only for himself.

That day, the horrid scent of death meant so much more. It was supposed to be a walk in the woods. You weren't supposed to run into anyone. There shouldn't have been anyone out there, and he shouldn't have been following you, and you should've paid more attention. So many variables. So many things you wish you had done differently. It was too late when you realized your mistake, when you realized that the leaves crunching and twigs snapping behind you were something to be afraid of. You had almost forgotten what fear felt like—a long-forgotten emotion buried so deeply in the recesses of your brain. You discovered the hard way that fear was the most dangerous emotion a human could feel, far more dangerous than love could ever hope to be. Fear makes you stupid, reckless, and impulsive. Love elicited the same reaction, but at least you were fighting for something rather than against something. It's so much harder to fight for yourself.

When his fist met your temple, you saw black. The world spun around your head, and a sea of stars danced in the early morning sky. You were grabbed by hands. You weren't sure where, but you were definitely thrown to the ground. You felt a small stream of blood tickle the side of your face—how did it ever get to this?—as it ran down from a cut left behind on your brow bone. You still couldn't see. Your ears rang, your senses were failing you, and he was sitting on top of your torso.

"Well, are you a pretty thing?"

Nothing about what you did to that man was pretty.

You couldn't remember how it happened. You remembered grabbing the rock; you remembered how heavy it sat in your hand as your wrist struggled to hold the weight. Everything went red after that. Maybe it was his blood obscuring your vision, or maybe it was a twisted sense of love, of duty, of "I have to get back to him" that blinded you.

Joel would never forgive you if you didn't come back home.

When you came to, the man was unrecognizable. You gained the advantage, managed to climb on top of him. His brain and fragments of his were scattered across the rock, and his head was caved in. The Infected would have been kinder to him. He didn't deserve that kindness. Your hands were shaking and stained crimson, as was your face. It felt like you were dying. Your chest was caving in—how did it ever get to this?—the trees surrounding you were uprooting, and the sky was falling down in a thousand pieces all around you. Killing up close was never a strong point for you. The smell, the blood, the emptiness of their eyes—he had no eyes left. You weren't sure how long you stayed on top of the man, but rigor mortis took hold of his lifeless body before you found the will to move.

When did you become so ruthless?

You had no control as your feet carried you. Left, right, left, right, until you found yourself by a stream. You didn't notice Joel on the other side, but he noticed you. He always saw you. You always found your way back to him.

He often went to that stream. It was a short walk from Jackson, one well worth the peace of mind that he found in the way the water flowed. He enjoyed stacking the rocks that lived beneath the water, which were eroded by years of ripples, leaving them smooth and slick to the touch, and the cool water running over his rough hands. It was a rare thing for Joel to find serenity when you weren't around. The stream reminded him of you. He searched for you in everything around him. He often found you in water, in the way the wind blew through tree branches, in the way deer ran from the snap of a twig, in the way the sun rose in hues of pink and orange. He found you in every beautiful thing the world had left to offer.

But not that day.

That day, Joel found you in cruelty. He found you in blood-splattered clothing, with hands that would be stained with a tint of red, matted hair, a cut on your eyebrow, and skin embedded under your fingernails. He had never seen you in such a state. Your eyes were empty, stuck on the stream that separated the two of you. There was a dead salamander, held in place underneath the current by weathered rocks. You found death everywhere you went. There was no escape, no hiding spot. Sometimes, you thought it sought you out, damning you to an eternity of that fucking smell as a means of atonement for your sins.

Joel called your name across the small distance of the water. He didn't know his voice could be so gentle. "What happened to you?"

You didn't hear him. He stepped through the water, giving no care to the wetness seeping into his shoes, and spoke your name once more.

"Let me look at you." He was nearly an arm’s length away from you before you finally picked up on his presence.

"Stay away." You whispered, your throat ached. You couldn't remember screaming. "Don't come near me."

"What happened?" He stopped just a few inches in front of you, close enough for you to see the wrinkles in his forehead and the crows feet that decorated the corner of his eyes, close enough to reach out and touch him. Your hands stayed by your sides, not trusting that he was there, that your fingers wouldn’t pass through the muscles of his chest. You couldn’t let him vanish into thin air.

"I don't know." It was Joel’s turn to be scared. He took in the obvious context clues of your appearance, but it still told him so little. Was it your blood or someone else's? Was it Infected or a human? Why were you so shaken? Why did you want him to stay away? You looked as though the combination of the gentle spring breeze and his breath fanning out in front of you would knock you to the ground.

It did. He was right there to catch you.

He was always there.

"I need you to talk to me." He didn't know how to do this anymore. He had been trying to relearn the gentleness he once possessed so many years ago, the kind he used to rock his daughter to sleep when she was a baby. He was slowly getting there but he feared what he had to offer wouldn't be enough. Not when seeing you like this scared him more than any horror the world could conjure up. He thinks seeing you like this scared him more than you dying. He knew how to handle death, how to exact his revenge in the cruelest, most damnable of ways. He knew how to rip men into pieces, to make them regret ever drawing breath; he knew how to put fear into the heart of anyone who dared to cross his path or take what was his.

Joel knew violence. Bloodshed.

He didn't know how to make you stop shaking.

"I- I–" Your voice failed you.

"Let's just clean you up, okay?" All you could do was nod. He gently lowered you to the ground, not trusting your legs enough to allow you to attempt to stand again. He couldn't do anything about the soiled state of your clothes at that moment, but he could wash your hands and face for you. The water was just slightly too cold, but you were sweating and it would be good for you to cool down. He didn't care that it made the tips of his fingers numb. He could only care about you, the hollowness echoing in your chest, and the crazed look in your eyes.

Blood mixed with water, flowing over the dead salamander, still trapped under the rock and it felt like some kind of sick metaphor that you didn't have the capacity to decipher.

He used a rag stashed away in his pack to clean the evidence off of you. Most of the time, when you saw him use his hands, it wasn't pure or loving. Not like this. He was getting better, but he wasn't fully there. But, Joel found it in himself to love you with his hands that day. He showed you in the way the rag barely made contact with your skin, not wanting to leave behind any more redness than the blood already would; in the way that he eroded the edges of the stone in his eyes and placed his lips on your forehead. It wasn’t a kiss, just a moment of contact, a silent ‘I love you,’ in the only way he knew to show you in the moment.

One day, he would tell you. One day, he would tell you how you made it easier to stay alive. He would tell you how, in the past, he had found people he was willing to die for, but never someone that made him want to live; someone that gave him purpose for fighting every day; someone that made him feel as though the world wasn’t out to get him, like he was more than a weapon of destruction. You looked at him like he was still a human being; like he never knew bloodshed; like he held galaxies in his eyes; like he was the galaxy, and you were a newly formed star, looking for a place to call home.

Like he was still Joel Miller.

You made him feel like he still existed.

But he tucked his feelings inside of his pocket, along with the rag that he used to clean you. He still didn’t know whose blood stained the once-white cloth, but he could confidently say that none of it was yours, save for the cruor on your forehead. You had finally calmed down. Your heart still hammered in your chest, and your hands slightly trembled, but the gentle caress of Joel’s fingers against your skin instilled in you a degree of tranquility that you once thought only death could possess.

His name softly fell from your lips, and for the first time during your encounter, your eyes met his. "I need you to tell me what happened to you."

Joel wasn’t satisfied with your retelling of the events, but details changed nothing, and you loved the gray-haired man too much to distress him more than you already had. He knew you were not giving him the full picture—I was out walking, and someone came up from behind me. I took care of it. I just don’t like doing it up close… smells like shit— but he chose not to pry. He knew you would tell him when—if—you were ready. All that truly mattered was getting you home safely.

He walked closely beside you, so close that his body would slightly brush against yours as the uneven terrain caused both of you to slightly stumble and sway. Every time it happened, your skin caught fire. Joel did his best to ignore the sparks it sent through his chest in favor of paying enough attention to the path ahead for the both of you. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you to look out for yourself—he trusted you with your life, which was considerably more important to him than his own—and he didn’t want you to have to stress yourself more than you already had. All he cared about was keeping you safe and as unperturbed as possible.

He took you to his and Ellie’s home.

You had practically lived there in the recent months, preferring to spend your free time with the grumpy older man—he was never grumpy towards you—and the young girl that had found a way to imbed herself within the walls he had spent the last twenty years fortifying. Articles of your clothing had found their way into his dresser without him ever noticing until he had to dedicate an entire drawer to you, not dissimilar to how the smallest pieces of you had slipped past his walls and attached to his heart. You carved statues out of the stone, creating an entire museum in his soul in your likeness; by the time he noticed, he had already spent every day marveling at the sculptures.

Sometimes, it scared him.

In fact, he vehemently tried to shut you out; he had a track record of failing to protect the ones he loved, and he already had Ellie to look after. If he lost both of you, it would be the end of him. There would be no coming back, and maybe if he acted like he didn’t care, he would one day believe it. The grief of Sarah and Tess haunted him, the burden being too much to bear some days. There is only so much loss, so much suffering that a heart can carry and he met his limit years ago—carrying the weight of a galaxy and all of her stars could do that to a man—and the more people he cared about, the more likely loss became. He never intended to let you in. Then again, he never intended to let Ellie in, but it was different with you. Ellie reminded him of what it was like to be a father, showed him that love is synonymous with more than pain and regret, but he still felt a degree of emptiness in his chest, a hollowness that he had long accepted would live inside of him until the day he died. She reminded him of hope, but there was something still missing. A missing puzzle piece that never actually came in the box, doomed to a lifetime of incompletion.

But you came along—your smile, your laughter, your witty remarks, the way you made him remember what life was and should have been, the way you took the galaxy off of his shoulders and put the sun in his ribcage. You meticulously handmade the missing piece of that puzzle over painstaking months. He had taken matters into his own hands many times and snapped it in half, but you never relented. You carved it out of a thin piece of wood, mixed the paint, and applied it with a brush that you crafted from a stick and horsetail, over and over again until he had no choice but to snap in the once-lost piece and frame it on his wall. You had given him everything he knew he was missing but didn’t know how to find, and damn sure did not know how to say.

The least he could do was take care of you, give you one of his t-shirts because you always said you loved the smell—he would never be able to understand why but the least he could do was oblige, and take care of you in the way you needed him to.

At least, that’s what he told himself when you climbed in his lap and peppered barely-there kisses down his jawline and neck. It’s what he told himself when your lips so gently met his, when your teeth bit his bottom lip and your tongue soothed the sting that was left behind. He wasn’t sure why it happened; maybe it was because you could’ve died and life had become too short to waste time pretending that you didn’t love Joel Miller with every fiber of your being, that he wasn’t the air you breathed or the blood pumping through your veins or the sun shining through your bedroom window in the morning. Maybe he reciprocated because you almost died, you almost broke your promise to him and the thought of you leaving his world without you ever knowing the way you breathed life back into his wretched body pained him far worse than any wound he had ever suffered.

"I worry when you go out there by yourself. You never know."

"You know I’ll always come back to you, Joel."

"You can’t be sure of that."

"I prom–"

"You can’t promise that."

"Yes, I can. I just did. You know I don’t break my promises."

It all came to a head on that couch. All of the stolen glances; the evenings spent lying in bed together, reminiscing on a life that no longer existed and picturing one that had yet to come to fruition; the accidental touches that were never truly accidents; the way that the two of you, together, were one of the last pure things left in the world, and you had somehow managed to come together in the midst of unspeakable horror to alleviate the neverending loneliness that crushed your souls for the last twenty years.

You brought Joel Miller back to life, lifted the child-sized grief riding on his shoulders, and bore the weight with him.

So, the least Joel could do was take care of you. He was a man of action, and you needed to forget that the world existed outside of the four walls and roof of his home; you needed a release, and he was happy to provide it for you. So, maybe that was why he reciprocated, why he softly grabbed your chin with his calloused hands and tilted it up so that he had free access to your neck. Delicate whimpers escaped from your kiss-swollen lips as he nipped at the juncture of your jawline and neck, leaving behind the faintest traces of purple that you would surely chastise him for in the morning. He played you like one of his guitars, and it was the sweetest melody to ever grace his ears.

You whined—a desperate sound he didn’t know your vocal chords possessed the ability to create—when he pulled your body off of his lap and sat you beside him on the couch. "What’re you doing?" You questioned him as he rose from the couch. For a moment, you feared that you had overstepped, that you had misread his affections and he thought of you in the same way he did Ellie. It crushed you, but only for a moment, because that was all the time it took for him to get on his knees in front of you, his large hands spreading your legs apart so that he could nestle in between them. The position sent discomfort through his persistently aching knees, but he didn’t have the willpower to care. Not when your eyes were practically begging him to continue, and your hands cupped his jaw and your thumb rubbed in a circular motion on his chin, grazing over his bottom lip when the pattern widened slightly.

"Let me take care of you, darlin’. Just relax for me." You thought that you were on fire when his arm brushed against yours in the woods, but that paled in comparison to the inferno raging inside of your stomach when Joel began unbuttoning your jeans. He was so gentle that if you closed your eyes, it was almost as though he wasn't there to begin with, but you couldn't tear your gaze away from him. Why would you, when he stared at you with such adoration, his hair already a mess, his pupils dilated despite the light shining in through the windows, on his knees for you?

Joel Miller didn’t have a submissive bone in his body, but he still bent the knee to you as though you were royalty, touched you like you were the only woman to exist, and you wanted to watch every second of it.

"This isn’t real." You whispered. He gripped your thigh, almost to the point of pain. You didn’t wake up.

"Do you want it to be?"

"God, yes."

You quickly learned that Joel liked to take his time. He was never a patient man, but with you? With you, he would wait until the end of infinity, until time ceased to pass and the seasons no longer existed. It felt as though it was exactly what he was waiting for as he left open-mouthed kisses on the inside of your thighs, never quite reaching where you so desperately needed him. The longer he drew it out, the closer you came to believing that you had died in the woods and were mistakenly sent to heaven. His kisses were hot coals peppering your legs.

"Joel, stop tea—" He had already read your mind. He had a tendency to do so; some days, you thought he could truly see inside of you, could hear the thoughts bouncing around your brain. That couldn’t have been true. If he did, he would have known how badly you wanted him, just like he was in that moment months ago.

His deft fingers moved aside the cotton of your panties—had it been twenty years ago, you would have picked the silkiest of fabrics, tempted him into ripping them off of you, but undergarments were hard to come by and they were one of the few pairs you owned, so he took special care not to stretch or rip the fabric. His tongue licked a thick stripe up your center, grazing over a bundle of nerves that sent your body jolting, eliciting a chuckle from the man below you. It infuriated you that, despite being below you, he was still in complete and utter control of you. He clouded every inch of your senses, left you a complete mess above him and he had the audacity to laugh.

Your hands flew to his messy, salt-and-pepper hair as he began focusing on that bundle. You had never felt so alive. His tongue was hot, reaching all of the right places, and it left you an absolute mess. Joel had never seen you so desperate; he had never seen you beg, and he never thought he would, but now he was addicted. He thought he could spend the rest of his life between your legs and still never be satisfied.

It did not take long for that familiar knot to begin tightening in your stomach. "I— fuck— Joel." Words were completely lost on you, your brain was too overwhelmed with his tongue working your clit. Maybe it was because it had been the better part of five years since you had truly been with someone, or maybe it was because Joel knew exactly what he was doing and all of the right places to touch, or maybe it was both, but your orgasm hit you hard. Your back arched as your body was engulfed in white-hot pleasure, and your eyes screwed shut as you cried out into the empty room. Your fingers pulled tighter on Joel’s hair, and he moaned. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard.

You thought he would be done after that, that he would realize what he had done and what it meant and would run away with his tail between his legs. It seemed that only you had the power to truly scare Joel Miller. You tried to pull his head back up to you, but he wanted no part of it, finding shelter between your legs. His rough hands rubbed your thighs up and down and up and down while he went back to peppering kisses on the supple skin, whispering soft praises to you.

You did so good.

Such a good girl.

Sound so beautiful.

You were so caught up in the praise, in the way it warmed your body almost as much as your orgasm had that you missed his fingers trailing higher and higher until two of them were circling your clit and your body felt like a live wire. "Give me one more," he pleaded, and how could you say no to him?

Your second orgasm hit you harder and faster than the first. Joel applied ruthless stimulation to such a devastating spot that no one had hit so perfectly before, and it had you seeing stars behind closed eyes. When he added his tongue back, you were a goner, reduced to incoherent babbling, the only discernible words being, "Joel," and, "Please don’t stop." He was happy to oblige.

He strained painfully in the denim of his jeans, desperately wanting you underneath him; he wanted to look in your eyes as you came apart for him, and he wanted to feel you tighten around him and beg him for more, but he knew this wasn’t about him. It was about you, the way you desperately needed someone to hold onto; you needed a release, and he was happy to be nothing more than that for the time being.

When you came down, Joel whispered more praises to you, this time into the crook of your neck as he trailed more kisses across the skin. You could not remember the last time you were on the receiving end of something so tender, but you wanted it to last a lifetime. It made you feel human in a world that was going extinct; you felt alive again, and you weren't convinced it was only the orgasm that had done it. You knew it was Joel. You knew it was the way he kissed you, ran his hands over your body, and whispered those sweet nothings into your ear that had you remembering you were still human after everything you had done.

"Joel," you said, your eyes closed and your head tilted back as he rested in your neck.You had a million things you wanted to ask him. The words were stuck in your throat, and you choked on them. You knew he could see it.

"Just relax for me," He said it once again, but this time it made you melt. He lifted his head off of you, and pushed yours into his shoulder. "Don’t worry about me."

"You know I’m going to."

"Yeah," he almost laughed, "I know." You fell asleep with him petting your hair and his arm wrapped around your shoulders. The position was uncomfortable, and you would surely wake with stiffness in your neck, but you would have rather died than be without him and the scent of dirt and musk that flooded your senses. He was everything that you needed in that moment, and you knew some things were better left unsaid; the silence was an easier burden to bear than going a lifetime knowing with absolute certainty that he didn’t feel the same. Would he feel the same?

You thought your question was answered when you heard him humming to you as your mind became clouded with sleep.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #the last of us #tlou #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #tlou show #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic

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archermind · 6 months

Note

seen your post abt suggestions for a spencer reid fic, this has been marinating in my brain so pls bare with me. <3

spencer reid x aarons daughter! reader

maybe he forgets his lunch, and his daughter brings it in? or something along the lines of needing a tutor? ill take ANYTHING. bonus points if its fluffy and smutty

feel free to change anything!!!

-🃏

Arousal Theory

Spencer Reid x Aarons daughter!reader

Description: You are Aaron Hotchner’s only daughter. It is safe to say he is a little over protective of you. You have never been able to bring a guy friend home without your dad profiling them and scaring them away. The one guy he never thought to profile was his own co-worker, Spencer Reid.

Word count: 2,500 approx.

Content Warning: fluff and light smut, light choking, hair pulling, fingering, small age gap.

y/n/n = your nickname

Author note: omgomg! I'm so glad someone sent this request in! Don't worry anonymous, I too have had this scenario brewing in my head. I loved your suggestion, thank you for submitting it! I hope i have done your idea justice <3

You hated your dads job. Mainly because he was too good at it. Every boy you were ever remotely friends with, you weren't anymore. All because of Aaron Hotchner. Each time you invited a guy to your house, your dad kicked into his professional shoes and took it upon himself to profile the poor boy. No guy was ever good enough for you or some of their characteristics unnerved Hotch.

This was the reason why at 22 years old, you still had never had any romantic relationship. The most romance you received lately was with a $20 lovehoney sex toy you bought in a valentines sale. Now that is romance. Your days were spent scrolling through tumblr, ao3 and erotic ebooks - yet every time after finishing the romance novel that piqued your current interest, you felt like sleeping on the highway. You couldn't help but think… ‘If this is my life at 22, I'm going to be the lonely old cat lady by the age of 25’.

It was a casual Saturday, you stood within the kitchen as your cat purred lapping in and out of your legs as you prepared her food. You weren’t really a sociable person. You mainly spent your days studying, preparing late dinners for your dad and caring for your cat - cookie. It was the main reason you didn't stay in dorms for college, you couldn't stand others. Other people your age were out drinking or hooking up. You just simply didn’t have the energy to go out to a party every week.

Your feet padded along the tiled floor as you made your way to the fridge. Opening the door, you let out a gasp. Your dad had forgotten his lunch. The BAU day can get pretty long and you know your dad often gets so caught up in a case he forgets to eat. You grabbed the tub, a basic lunch packed inside of it. You lightly stifled a laugh, seeing your fathers poor excuse of a ‘nutritious’ lunch. Opening the tub you pulled out an apple, some crackers and cheese, along with a small sandwich. Enough to fill a five year old… not a hardworking, criminal catching 43 year old man.

Luckily, you had cooked too much cheesy spinach pasta for lunch. You packed Hotch a generous amount. Before putting it into a lunch bag, grabbing your keys and heading out of the door. After two tries of twisting the ignition key for your car, it suddenly kicked into motion. With winter approaching, your old beat up car was struggling. The drive wasn’t too long fortunately. Getting a space in the small Quantico parking lot was your greatest problem.

You made your way through the reception area of the building, confidently walking towards the elevator. However, you were abruptly stopped in your tracks after seeing the ‘out of order’ sign. You sighed making your way over to the stairwell. You saw someone entering through the stairwell door and realized the doors to the stairs were key card accessed.

“HOLD THE DOOR PLEASE!” you yelled, running towards the boy who held the door.

“Sorry, but you have to have an access card to be allowed through” the boy spoke, gesturing to his key card.

You squint your eyes to read his name before responding with a coy smile.

“Well actually… spencer.” you smiled at him, “i have to just quickly drop off my dads lunch, so could you be a sweetheart and just let me through?”

He shifted anxiously as you battered your eyelashes at him, trying your hardest to persuade the older boy.

“I guess so..” he responded, looking your impatient demeanor up and down “what floor are you heading to?”

“Floor four” you stated quickly as you rushed toward the steps, spencer hot on your trail

“That's good because I actually am too!” Spencer gleefully responded as you hummed in surprise.

You were slightly short of breath by the time you reached the fourth floor. Spencer however was still just as energetic as before. All throughout the walk up the stairs, he rambled about which tourist attraction has the most steps in the U.S after you made a single complaint about the elevator being out of order.

“Here we are,” spencer opened the door “who is your da-”

“Y/N/N?” Hotch exclaimed, coming up to you with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Hey dad, I came here to bring you lunch… you forgot yours” you pointed out with a laugh

“Oh? I didn't realize” he gratefully took the tub from your grasp, “i see you have met Dr. Spencer Reid”

You and Spencer both looked toward each other. You gave him a polite smile and then nodded sweetly to your dad.

“I was just talking to Spencer this morning about how you could use his extensive knowledge to support you in your studies” he spoke confidently, yet.. You found yourself on the verge of protesting. As you opened your mouth, Hotch began again…

“He already said yes.”

Great.

You anxiously bit your nails and paced just behind the front door, awaiting the moment Spencer would knock. From the moment you both met, you thought he was handsome. The way his brown soft looking curls were all laid messy. The way his honey brown eyes stared focused on every point of your face, as you spoke. It made you want to know him more. Everything about Dr Spencer Reid intrigued you.

A knock broke your train of thought- or more like your fantasy imagination about your dads Co-worker. It sent a shock through you. You shook your arms attempting to get rid of your nerves. It is just a 26 year old man coming to help you study. Nothing else… nothing more. You gave yourself one last look in the mirror to check if you looked good - to study of course

You death gripped the handle of the front door and pulled it open to see Spencer stood there. He wore a hat, gloves and scarf to help protect him from the cold brittle air. It made you feel terrible for leaving him that extra few minutes in the cold. You smiled at him, motioning him to come into your home.

“Hotch told me you were studying psychology” he questioned, walking into the dining room.

“Uh… yea i am” you followed him through to the dining room, “would you like a hot chocolate?” you questioned him.

“I actually don't like hot chocolate” Spencer stated, giving a soft smile to lessen the harsh deny of your polite gesture.

“Neither do i…” you bit your bottom lip as you looked at him blushing. “Coffee?”

“Please,” Spencer smiled.

As you added the sugars into the coffees, you heard cookie meowing from the dining room. You grasped the coffees, making your way back to spencer. To your surprise Cookie had jumped onto Spencer's knee and began kneading his leg, purring. You placed the coffees down and laughed at her kitten-like attitude for Spencer, a random stranger. Until you saw how uncomfortable Reid was. You quickly shoo’d her off of him.

Time passed, the studying was long and quite boring . Spencer helped you create numerous flash cards to help you study and you both went through them. While studying, small talk was going on - you enjoyed getting to know Spencer. He was such an interesting person that you wished to know him more and more, deeper and deeper.

“I have an idea, for each question on these cards i guess right you get to ask me a question?” spencer suggested

You smirked in response, it was a good trade. He got to tutor me and I got to question him.

“Okay” you grinned

The questions were basic. ‘What is your favorite part of your job?’, ‘Who is your favorite co-worker?’, ‘what is your favorite book?’. You were actually making an effort in answering these silly little cards. However, you were never asking the questions you really wanted to ask… more about his personal life.

“What is the arousal theory?” Reid asked

“to be the physiological state of being aware, alert, awake or attentive” you spoke confidently

“Correct!” he shouted

“Okay…” you spoke slowly and playfully

you thought long and hard about what you wanted to know about Spencer, your mind immediately going to the one and only thing you were desperate to know. Although it was wildly inappropriate to ask your dad’s co-worker, you just couldn't help yourself.

“Do you have a girlfriend?” you spoke mumbled and shy.

“No.” he answered sharply, “do you- uh… have a boyfriend?” he blushed.

It was new year's eve and you were currently dressed in a silver satin dress. You felt confident but nervous as you stood beside your dad, hugging a tub of home baked cookies on the doorstep of Rossi’s house. He had invited hotch and you over to his annual new year party. You knew Spencer was going to be there hence why you dressed at your best.

Little to your fathers knowledge, you and Spence had grown closer and closer. Although you both were nothing serious. You could feel the tension between you both with every brush of your hands, sip of coffee and longing stare. You couldn't be more grateful for your weekly study sessions, you were gaining more marks on each essay and exam - all thanks to spencer.

Walking into the party, you were engulfed in hugs from Hotch’s co-workers. Everyone was so kind. You listened to the group of friends laugh and joke. Yet, you couldn’t help but notice Spencer was missing from the large tight-knit group. You glanced around the room, in search of the man you were obsessed with. You couldn’t help but worry that he wasn't here at all.

“I'm going to go grab a drink” you informed hotch before rushing off into the crowd. You were in search of a beverage and a smartass man who took up every inch of your thoughts. You pushed past small crowds making your way to the drinks table. Your eyes scanned the room, still no sign of Reid.

“You look beautiful Y/N” a voice whispered in your ear.

You jumped slightly at the hot breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. You smiled instantly knowing exactly who it was behind you. You quickly spun around and threw your arms around his neck, giving him the tightest hug. He smelled good and you found yourself sinking further into his arms for longer.

“Should we get away from the crowds” you asked him, looking up at him, remembering a discussion you had about his hate for big crowds during a study session.

He nodded and swiftly guided you through Rossi’s home and up the stairs to a bathroom. You giggled as he closed and locked the door. You loved sneaking around to have some privacy for whatever it was going on between you both. It made you feel special and giddy for the tall boy who you had grown so close to. Spencer now towered over you as he stepped closer, placing his hands on your waist and lifting you onto the giant bathroom counter.

The room was silent but the tension was thick. You licked your lips as they went dry from anticipation for anything to happen. You stared up at him as Spencer tucked a stray strand of hair that fell in front of your face behind your ear. You have never wanted a man more and it was a lot for you to admit. You felt vulnerable under his touch and gaze. You and Spencer searched in eachothers eyes, looking for any indication in each other's stare if you both felt the same way.

You found yourself leaning into the temptation and to him. Spencer was quick to close the gap. You both kissed passionately and slowly, enjoying the moment that had been a long time coming. You smiled as he pulled away.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long Y/N” he blushed at his confession

“I wish you didn’t wait so long Spence”

You kissed him again and felt his hand go to your neck, applying light pressure. You moaned at the contact. Slowly Spencer began to pepper kisses along your jawline. You hummed at his actions. You felt yourself grow with more need for him. Both of your breathing became heavy as your lust and want for each other grew stronger. You felt Spencer's hand trail up your thigh as his tongue played with yours in a heated make out. You pulled away and looked down as his hand grazed your clothed pussy. You were soaked for him and ready for his touch but so hesitant. You didn’t want this to be a one time thing, no matter how much you wanted this.

“Is this okay Y/N?” Spencer questioned you concerned for the worried look you held in your expression.

“Yes Spencer p-please” you whined needy, pushing the negative thoughts away.

Quickly Spencer pushed your panties aside, you gasped at the sudden touch of his cold fingers against your heat. He began stroking small circles on your clit causing your head to fall back from the pleasure. He bit back a smirk at the reaction you had for his touch. You whined as you felt a finger brush near your entrance.

“You have to be quiet baby” he spoke gently, shushing you before plunging his fingers into you.

You moaned in response and then Spencer clasped his spare hand over your mouth to try and muffle the reaction coming from you, not wanting your father and his boss to know what you both were getting up to in his co-workers bathroom. He kept the pumping of his fingers at a steady rhythm as his thumb massaged circles on your clit. Spencer's hot mouth went to your neck biting and sucking at the skin. It seemed your entire body was sensitive for him. Every touch, kiss, and word from him caused an elicit reaction.

You began to ride his hand and fingers faster as you grew closer to your finish. While he sped up the thrusts of his fingers, you could hear the countdown to new year about to start. Spencer knew you were about to cum and instantly knew what he wanted from you.

“You only cum when i want you to” spencer growled his order into your ear

your legs and body began to shake from the overwhelming knot of pleasure in your stomach. Your body writhed and wriggled against the counter as his thumb applied pressure to your sensitive overstimulated clit. You were a mess, dripping with arousal.

10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3…

“Hold it Y/N!” Spencer grunted

2..

“Look at you such a good girl Y/N” he praised, stroking your hair out of your face but grabbing a fistful and pulling your head back to look at him….

1…

“Cum for me!” Spencer begged as he watched you come undone from his touch.

You whined from your climax. Trying your hardest to gain the full ability of your mind as it was going wild from your overstimulation. Spencer kissed your forehead as your chest heaved up and down. You smiled letting out a light laugh.

“Happy new year Spence” you smiled into his kiss

“What a way to come into the new year Y/N”

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even-disco-baby · 1 year

Text

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You’re pretty good with that boy, Cuno.” She says it thoughtfully, as though she’s turning this fact over in her mind as she works at the tangled net in her lap. The sea is a soft roar over the horizon, and the world is tinged a dusky blue.

“Really? It doesn’t feel like I am. He still calls me anything but my name. Usually a slur.”

“It’s tough love, Lilienne, that’s all. A kid like that needs discipline.”

“He’s not that hard to deal with. He just wants somebody to play along with him. That’s all any kid wants.”

“He was good to me first.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She arches an eyebrow. “Really now…”

DRAMA — She isn’t doubtful, sire. Just surprised.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Well, I hope you’ll keep on being good to each other, then. The kid certainly needs it.”

EMPATHY — And so do you, she thinks.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “You seem good with the young people around here in general,” she muses. “Cuno, those kids at the church, Lily and the boys… You said you used to be a teacher, didn’t you? Maybe that’s why.”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A familiar ache squeezes your lungs. The same ache that drove you to become a teacher in the first place. An incalculable and long forgotten loss.

INLAND EMPIRE — Don’t follow this thread any further. Let it unravel.

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“No, there’s something else… Lost children, a lost Indotribe…” [Follow the thread.]

“I think I wanted to be a father, once.” [Change the subject.]

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She pauses her work, strands of the net wrapped loosely around her fingers, but does not look up. “…Oh?”

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Hey, it’s never too late! Now’s your chance to give fatherhood a shot!

“Any chance *we* could make it happen?” [Give her the finger guns.]

“I wonder why I did…”

“It was a stupid thing to want.”

“I still do.”

“I guess it never worked out.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Hm…” She goes back to her work, slowly and carefully. “Why not?”

“I don’t know. Can’t remember.”

“In *this* economy?”

“Things never lined up right, I guess.”

“I bet it was *her* fault. She ruined my chances forever.”

“Too poor and drunk and sad.”

“I’d never want to inflict myself on a child.”

“Just look at me.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She does look at you. There is no pity or disgust or whatever other terrible thing you expected in her gaze. Just a quiet acknowledgment.

EMPATHY — To her, you look just like a father she once knew. This only makes her more inclined to agree with you.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “…When I first got pregnant with the boys,” she says quietly, returning to her work, “I was uneasy. Wondered if it was… right to bring them into this world. Into *our* arms…”

PAIN THRESHOLD — A rare pang wracks her. She does not like to think about these things.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I never did decide one way or another. I just knew what I wanted, and so I went ahead with it. *We* went ahead with it. And then again with Lily, even though…”

EMPATHY — Even though at heart she knew, by then, how it would all end.

SHIVERS — Five years ago, a man stands on the boardwalk where the corpse of a different drunken husband will one day be discovered. Bottle still clutched tightly in his hand, he fights the urge to throw himself into the dark water. He wins the battle today, but he will ultimately lose the war.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “However things turned out for you, I’m sure you had your reasons.” She sighs, and cuts a strand of the net with the tip of her knife, then ties it back together. “Though that probably sounds shallow, coming from me.”

“A little, yeah.”

“Not at all.”

“Can I ask you something?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Go ahead.”

“Do you regret having kids?”

“Uh… never mind.”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She smiles, and there’s an uncharacteristic sadness in the lines around her eyes.

“No,” she says softly. “Never once.”

EMPATHY — She wonders if this is proof of her own selfishness.

It isn’t the children she regrets. It’s the world that she brought them into.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “Now that they’re here, all we can do is love them. And you’ve got plenty of love in you for the children, it seems. That’s more than a lot of fathers could say…” She sighs, her eyes shadowed and sunken. “Oh, I don’t know what I’m trying to say anymore.”

DRAMA — But you know what *you* would like to say, sire. Go ahead. Now’s your moment!

REACTION SPEED — No, it really isn’t. Please don’t push your luck.

“Lilienne…”

Don’t push your luck.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She turns to you, expression inscrutable with the light of the setting sun behind her. “Yes?”

“Do you think *we* could ever… try again?”

“Do you think you could ever see *me* as… a father?”

“Do you think there’s any hope in this world for any of us?”

“Do you think the children will ever forgive us?”

“Do you think I’m… a good man?”

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — She looks at you, her chin no longer held high, a tired slump in her shoulders and something searching in her eye. Her hands are all tangled in webs of fragile knots.

“I think…” she says slowly, evenly, “you’re looking for something that I can’t give you.”

-1 MORALE

“Okay. Well. Khm. Right.”

“What the hell does *that* mean?”

“That’s not really what I asked…”

Say nothing.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — “I know what you’re asking,” Lilienne says frankly. “I’m just not so sure that *you* do…”

EMPATHY — For love.

RHETORIC — For vindication.

INLAND EMPIRE — For a lifeline.

VOLITION — For a future.

LILIENNE, THE NET-PICKER — Lilienne sighs, watching the twins in the distance, starting the long march home from the beach before dark. “At some point, Harry, you’re going to have to be okay with your life.”

SHIVERS — You have twenty two years left to reach that point.

#disco elysium #harry du bois #lilienne carter #UGH if you saw this after i hit the post button accidentally before finishing the formatting. no u didn’t.#anyway. lilienne i have feelings for you #and also lots of feelings about the impending apocalypse and whether or not the children will have a future…#FUCK OFF I MISSED A FORMATTING ERROR AGAIN. FUCK THIS GAY EARTH

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thenewausten · 2 months

Text

Quackity realising he's in love with a brazilian streamer HC's! 🇧🇷

Everything started when he invited you to join the QSMP server with Cellbit, Felps and TazerCraft, you were a brazilian streamer and youtuber and just like the others you played a bunch of weird games (and Minecraft as well). The first time he saw your face he thought you were so beautiful and even got a little nervous to send you a message on Instagram (lmao) but he did and you answer, being super attentive to him and of course accepting being part of the server!

You and Alex became friends very fast, always being chaotic together on the server and always flirting as a joke (you'd ask him if he wants to marry you so he could be the first one to get married on the server).

In real life, I can imagine you guys being awake until late night talking about your life's, thoughts, feelings and experiences. As a brazilian myself I think we have a lot in common with his mexican culture so you guys would talk for hours about your cultures, he'd show you mexican songs or bands like Los Tigres del Norte and you'd show him Mamonas Assassinas* (I'd give anything to see him reacting to this band). Also, he'd teach you how to do guacamole and you'd teach him how to do brigadeiro* as well!

I think he'd fall in love with you first and would realise it while streaming your both wedding on the QSMP, listening to your voice as you say how much you love and care for him, or even better, for q!quackity. He'd think he's confusing his feelings with the feelings of his character but his heart would be pounding so fast in his chest as you both talked later off-stream he thought he could have an anxiety attack. "Hmm, hey... I need to go, I have to work on the next event of QSMP, sorry..." He'd say to you, looking at your face on the screen of his phone. "Oh, sure. It's okay! Bye, husband!" You'd joke around calling him husband and he'd be dead for the rest of the night and the next day, thinking he was so fucked up to fall in love with someone who just wanted his friendship and lived so far away from him.

Alex didn't know you felt the same, after a couple weeks you'd realise the way you've been reacting when you talk to him. Something was different. Just like him, you thought you'd be confusing your feelings because all of the marriage lore on the server but why would you blush every damn time he'd say you are beautiful and not only that but an amazing person as well?!

You'd talk with Cellbit about it, not knowing Quackity did the same. Cellbit would say you should talk to him about it and said the same to Alex before (he's our Rodrigo Faro*).

Quackity decided he'd open his heart to you in the QSMP meeting in Brazil, he'd have to wait a couple weeks but it didn't matter, he loved you so he'd wait to see your face in real life even if you didn't love him back in this way.

Part 2???

I decided to write Quackity with a brazilian girl because I don't see a lot in here and there's a lot of brazilian's out there, so this is for all my brazilian people <3

If you're not brazilian, here's the explanation of what I marked with the *:

Mamonas Assassinas was an iconic brazilian band in 1995-1996, their music changed Brazil in that time, bringing happiness, laughter and excitement in a time where all the brazilian's needed it. They did what was never done before in Brazil and they did something someone could never do again. Unfortunately, in March of 1996 they passed away in a plane crash bringing sadness to all of our people. However, they're gone but not forgotten, they live in our hearts <3

Brigadeiro is a typical brazilian candy, it's made with chocolate, condensed milk and butter (it's very good, btw).

Rodrigo Faro is a TV presenter, in his program there's a thing called "Vai dar namoro" ("Will date" is the literal traducion of that) and people go there to meet other people so they can go on a date, lol.

Anyway...

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

#quackity fluff #quackity imagines #quackity imagine #quackity x reader #quackityhq #quackity x y/n #quackity #quackity x you #alex quackity #qsmp brasil #qsmp brazil #qsmp #cellbit #qsmp tazercraft #qsmp felps

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luvvyouforever · 2 months

Note

Hello!! I saw that your requests were open. Could you possibly do another Modern AU! Rhysand x College Student! reader fic? I loved the first one you posted and definitely gave me some comfort with how stressful college is 😭

I always liked imagining the ACOTAR universe in a modern au. Especially Velaris in a modern setting.

Hope you are doing well and taking care of yourself💜💜

hi! absolutely dear <3 i tried to include more velaris in this!

comfort on the bridge - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader

↳ a night out in velaris ought to clear your worries about upcoming exams. does it actually, though?

↳ modern portrayal of velaris, mentions of self doubt and stress, reader is studying to be a teacher but it could be replaced with any major/focus. this isn't my best work, i'll admit, and it did take me like two weeks to completely finish but here you go!

↳ divider art from @firefly-graphics

usually, there was nothing better than a night out on the town in velaris, surrounded by the inner circle and your loving partner, rhysand. very little made you more excited than getting dressed up with mor, pregaming with cassian, and flooding the dance floor of rita's. tonight, however, it was the last thing you wanted to do.

rhysand could sense your hesitance about going out, feeling the bond between you two grow shaky and antsy but there was no way you could bring yourself to say no to them. you were just more stressed out than you imagined possible and so much more was in your mind than getting drunk and dancing to fae pop music.

mortal college was more than you had anticipated. it was always your goal, far before your ears grew pointy and you became a part of the night court's defenders, to go to college and make something of yourself. rhysand encouraged you wholeheartedly, telling you over and over that it was a good idea, that velaris needed more teachers, that you could accomplish it.

and now, your college career was coming to a close which only meant certifications, exams, and papers that all required more of you than you could give. you could only remind yourself of the shining new generation of fae being born in velaris that needed teaching so many times.

all of those worries and deadlines could not be suppressed by the strong liquor going down your throat, leaving a harsh burn in its wake. nevertheless, you took every shot cassian offered and with everyone one of them, rhysand grew more worried.

"you're putting 'em down tonight, y/n!" cassian cheered as the clink of the shot glass hitting the bar rang through the room. "you want another one?"

"yeah, i'd lo-"

"darling, i really don't think you should have another drink. you'll feel terrible later," rhysand's deep voice sent shivers down your spine as his large chest came up behind you. instinctively, you leaned back into his warmth.

"no! we gotta have fun tonight! i can't let anyone down!" you rebutted. your hand reached for the drink on the bar but your hand was trapped by rhysand's before you could. "hey!"

without a response or argument, rhysand began to tug and you didn't put up much of a fight (you were positive that one wrong move and your lack of coordination would land you on your butt on the floor). cassian looked at the two of you, making brief eye contact with rhysand and he nodded in understanding. something was wrong.

"where are we going?" you asked your partner after you stepped into the fresh air of velaris. despite it being so late, the city was quite alive with people, bikes, lights, music, and sounds. it was a beautiful sight, one that usually caught your breath, but there were more pressing matters. like why did rhysand take you away from your fun? the worries were just now being forgotten!

rhysand didn't answer your pestering but instead led you down some streets, up one incline, and landed at an old steel bridge that was at a high enough point to overlook the streets below. it was a spot you frequented when stressed but you didn't know that anyone knew. of course rhysand knew.

without having to say anything, you both perched on the edge of the bridge, wrapping your legs around the posts. your arms brushed against each other and with a few deep breaths, you felt the alcohol begin to leave your system as quickly as it came in.

"what's going on? you're drinking a lot, you seem stressed. i feel it. i don't even have to look in your mind to tell," rhysand said softly. his violet eyes shined in the night and though his gaze was strong, you couldn't help but fall into it.

you sighed and leaned your forehead against the cool metal of the bridge. the sounds of your city flooded your ears and it washed you with some calm that you were searching for. "i'm just stressed. there's so much on my plate, so much coming up, and i don't feel smart enough or good enough for any of it." just speaking the words out loud felt like a weight being taken off of your body. surgically removed and thrown hundreds of miles away.

"tell me about it," your partner said. he wouldn't get it, necessarily, but sharing the weight would help.

"there's three certification tests i have to take, all of which are unnecessarily hard. and that's just so i can get my license to teach. i still have four exams, all worth well over a hundred points, and i feel grossly underprepared for each and everyone one of them. then there's this theory class that's all about best practices in education and research and i feel like i'm picking up none of it," you expressed. "i don't feel like i am going to be the best i can be for velaris. i want to teach them but i'm struggling to pass my class. how am i supposed to impart all of this amazing knowledge on them when i don't even know it?"

your head fell forward onto the bar again and you relished in the soothing feeling of it. down below, music and laughter erupted from a rooftop bar. you wished you could know what rhysand was thinking.

"you know...i think you're the most intelligent person i ever met-"

"that's not-"

"ah! ah! no arguing," rhysand cut you off. "as i was saying...you are the most intelligent person i ever met. the capabilities you have far exceed anyone in the spring court and hewn city combined. the passion you have for our city and its education is so admirable, y/n. everyone will be so lucky to have you as their teacher. the fact that you committed to going to mortal college just to provide the small number of velaris children with a proper education proves to me that the cauldron picked the most perfect person to be my mate."

looking at onto your city, rhysand's words sunk in. somewhere in a back yard, high fae children laughed cheerfully, clearly excited to be up later than what would usually be allowed. it was hard work but work that you were more than excited to be doing.

with a sigh, you leaned into rhysand's side, grateful for him being your rock. "will you help me study for the praxis?" you asked quietly.

rhysand's head dipped down and planted a soft kiss on your forehead. "me and all of velaris will help you through whatever you need, darling. and we will be there at your graduation, glamoured and cheering."

#acotar series #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #rhysand acotar #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #fanfic #fluff

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vodika-vibes · 6 months

Note

May I request the „I want you“ „then come and get me“ for delta squad’s Boss? Maybe while he’s doing some late night sparring with the reader? And perhaps smutty?🫣

💖💖

Training Session

Summary: You've had a bad day, and decide to work out your frustrations on a punching bag, Boss, however, has different plans.

Pairing: Clone Commando Boss x F!Reader

Word Count: 2164

Warnings: Smut. Smut with plot.

Tagging: @trixie2023

A/N: So, Wookieepedia says that Boss is "Taciturn", which I took to mean quiet and intense. I really want to write a letter to the Star Wars people and ask for a detailed personality profiles of all the clones. Just. "Dear sir or madam, please write a complete personality profile for all 2 million clones. Yes. All of them. Thanks." Anyway! This isn't so much sparring, because I wasn't sure how to write that, but I hope this is okay?

Divider by Saradika

Your fist slams into the bag over and over again. You’re long past the point of trying to improve your form, right now you’re just trying to exhaust yourself to the point where you can sleep without nightmares.

A tall order, you’re sure, but anything is better than laying in bed and watching the men you serve with die over and over again in your dreams. Your nightmare flashes to the front of your mind again, and you grit your teeth as you slam your bare fist into the bag even harder than before.

If you cared, you would have grabbed a glove from the box against the wall…or even grabbed some tape to protect your knuckles. But you don’t care. Can’t bring yourself to care.

At this point you’re probably going to break your fist…and you can’t help but wonder if that will help you feel a little better.

You go to slam your fist into the bag again, only for a strong arm to shoot past your head to tightly grip your wrist, holding you still. “You’re going to break your hand.”

Boss’ voice is low and stern, and while normally you would apologize for being in his way, and existing in his space, because the gym is his space, tonight you can’t seem to bring yourself to care.

You try to tug your wrist free, and fail spectacularly, “Do you always manhandle people, sir?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“I do when they’re acting recklessly.” He counters.

You hiss under your breath, and use your long, almost forgotten, self-defense lessons to try and twist out of his grip.

All you manage, though, is turning your body so you’re face to chest with Boss. You glower up at him, and he arches an unimpressed brow, “Nice try.”

“Well, not everyone can have superior fighting abilities.” You snap as you uselessly try to try your wrist from his grip.

“You’re a Doctor, you don’t need superior fighting abilities,” He mocks your words with an inflection that you’ve never heard from him before.

“I should still know how to defend myself,” You snap, without thinking about it.

“Can you?” Boss asks.

“Can I what?”

“Defend yourself.”

Your face burns with anger and embarrassment, and you turn your head away from him, “I do just fine.” You retort, though there’s a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

His gaze is even, and you bristle under his gaze. Stupid judgemental genetically perfect man. With his stupid perfect hair, and his stupid perfect face and his stupid perfect voice-

“Punch my hand.” Boss’ comment interrupts your mental triade, and you blink up at him, genuinely startled, not even noticing that he released your wrist.

“What?”

“Punch my hand.” He repeats, his gaze serious.

“I am not punching you!” You blurt, eyes wide.

His eyes narrow, “What are you going to do if clankers get by me or my brothers and make it to your medical tent?”

“I’ll…die. Probably.” You retort honestly.

He scowls, “Unacceptable. Punch my hand.”

“Why?!”

“I want to see your form. Just do it.”

“I…you…that’s…” You throw your hands up, “Ugh! You’re such a…a guy sometimes!” You snap, “Fine! Fine. I’ll punch your hand.”

You do as you said you would, though it’s not anywhere close to being a proper punch. And Boss recognizes that. He closes his hand around your fist, “Try again. And do it properly this time. You can’t hurt me.”

“You know, when you say stuff like that it makes me want to hurt you,” You grouse.

“Good. Maybe you’ll take this seriously.”

“Oh, come on! Why do you even care?”

“You’re a medic. My medic. And you’re my responsibility. But I won’t always be there to protect you. So you have to learn to defend yourself.” Boss replies, his voice short and matter of fact.

“Okay, so, first of all. I’m not your medic-”

“Yes,” He interrupts, “You are.” Boss’ gaze is intense, and your words die on your tongue, “Try again.”

This time, when you slam your fist into the palm of his hand, it’s a proper punch, though it’s a little clumsy. In your defense, you’ve not taken a self defense class since you were a child.

“Better. Again,”

You sigh and punch his fist again, and again, and again.

And then, when you’re about to punch his fist again, “Why are you awake, anyway?”

You stumble in surprise, your fist glancing off the palm of his hand and hitting his chest, “I…sorry.”

“You’re fine.” Boss says quietly.

You hesitate, and shrug, “It’s dumb.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I couldn’t sleep. I kept going over everything that happened today and what I did wrong, and…” You shrug, “Sometimes I think you all would be better off with a better doctor.” You punch his fist again.

“You saved half of my brothers today.” Boss points out, closing his hand around your fist to make you look at him. “They’d be dead if you weren’t here.”

“Or maybe more of them would be unhurt with a different doctor.” You point out.

“No. I don’t agree.” Boss says, opening his hand as you pull your fist back, “You know, I chose you, right?”

“Chose me?” You ask.

“Of all of the natborn medics in the GAR, I picked you.” Boss confirms, “Because of your skillset, because you refused to be cowed when one of my brothers yelled at you, because you were polite in spite of us being clones.”

“You’re still men.” You say with a sigh, “Everyone else is just dumb.”

His lips quirk up until a small, amused, smile. “Maybe.”

“Not maybe, definitely.” You shift your weight onto your heels, “I didn’t know that you picked me.”

“I did. And I keep picking you. Everytime we get the option for another doctor.”

“I just don’t get why.”

He folds his hands behind his back, “It’s easy.” You’re pretty sure he stands at attention when he’s trying to mask his emotions, and it works really well, “I want you.”

“Like…in what way?” You ask as your stomach flips nervously.

“In every way that matters. Romantically. Sexually. Platonically. All of them.” Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn’t that. “But I’ll go at your pace.” He continues, “And if you’re not interested at all, then that’s fine too.”

“You want me.” Your voice is low, thoughtfully.

“Yes.” He doesn’t even sound remotely embarrassed about it.

“Okay then,” You reply slowly, “Okay.” You flash a small, impish, smile, “Then come and get me.”

His hands fall to his sides, and he smiles, something slow and predatory, and you feel arousal shoot down to your very core.

He advances on you, and you lightly hook your fingers around the collar of his shirt and you walk backwards until your back hits the wall. Boss cages you between his arms and his lips crash against yours, his kiss both hot and demanding.

You moan into the kiss, and your hands slide down his chest to slip under the top of his blacks. His muscles jump under your touch, and you know, immediately, that you want more.

So you tug on the hem of his shirt, and pull away from his kiss just enough to speak, “Off.” You order, or plead. You’re not sure.

Boss groans, low and deep, in the back of his throat, “Yes, ma’am.” He replies, his voice a low rumble that you feel all the way down to your bones. He pulls away long enough to grab the collar of his shirt, and he pulls it off in one smooth motion.

Your hands are immediately on his chest, smoothing over hard planes, and lightly tracing the raised skin of the scars dotting his body. He melts into your touch, and his lips find purchase against your jaw, your throat, your neck, your shoulder-

Boss’ hands burn a trail down your sides, up your back, and then back down over your plush rear. And then, to your surprise, he sinks to his knees in front of you. He looks up at you as he slowly slides your leggings down your legs.

You set your hands on his shoulders for balance as you step out of the clingy material, and you shiver as he kisses your hip and then lazily trails his tongue down your outer thigh. And you can feel yourself getting more and more wet with every passing second.

“Boss…” his name falls from your lips in a soft moan, more of a sigh than actual words.

You feel him smile against your leg, and then he lifts one of your legs and sets it on his shoulder, and he turns his head to press a soothing kiss against your inner thigh. And then he turns his gaze to the junction of your thighs, and he releases a deep sigh of pleasure.

His hand slides up the back of your leg and you jolt when you feel his finger pressed against you through your underwear. “You’re so wet,” Boss murmurs as he leans in and presses a light, lingering kiss over the wet spot on your underwear, “Is all this for me?”

You card your fingers through his hair, “Wasn’t that the point?” You ask, slightly breathlessly.

Boss’ gaze meets yours, a slightly amused smile lifting his lips, and then he turns his head slightly and kisses your inner thigh again. “Tell me, cyare.” He murmurs against your skin, as his gaze drifts back to your core, “Are you overly fond of these?” He asks as he gestures to the underwear shielding you from his gaze.

“Not especially,” You reply immediately.

“Good.” He grips the material in one hand, and before you realize what he’s planning, he’s managed to tear it off of your body.

Boss drops the shredded cloth to the side, and he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your thigh, before he moves and drags his tongue along your wet slit.

Your grip in his hair tightens as you moan, and he groans in return. “You taste amazing,” Boss breathes out as he pulls away for a moment to press a light kiss against your hip, and then he dives right back in, his lips finding the little bundle of nerves that has you seeing stars.

He slides a single finger to your opening, and you release a louder moan. His fingers are so much longer and thicker than your own, and so, when he curls his finger and gives a particularly hard suck on your clit, your legs nearly buckle.

Boss chuckles and he pulls away for a moment to look up at you, “Sensitive, cyare?”

“It’s been awhile.” You admit, your voice slightly breathless. And when he eases a second finger to join the first one, your hips jerk towards him.

He smirks at you, lazily fucking you with his fingers, “You’re so tight, cyare.” Boss says, his voice low, “I have to prep you for my cock.”

You shiver and moan softly.

He twists his hand slightly and flicks his thumb over your clit, pulling a louder moan from you, and then he carefully, very carefully, eases in a third finger to join the first two, and you clench down on his fingers.

He curls his fingers as he fucks you, and his thumb lazily circles your clit in time with his thrusts, and it’s almost too much. You can feel the coil in your abdomen tightening, and you know you just need a little more. “B-Boss, please.” You plead breathlessly.

“Shh. I have you, cyare.” He kisses your hip again, “Going to make you feel amazing,” Boss promises, “And then I’m going to ruin other men for you.” His fingers start moving even faster.

His name falls from your lips like a prayer, and he grins sharply.

“Cum for me, mesh’la.” He orders, his voice soft but unyielding.

“I-”

“Now.”

And you’re helpless to do anything but obey as he plays your body like a fine tuned instrument. The coil snaps, and you fall apart on his fingers, with the sound of his voice, low and soothing, murmuring praises up to you.

When you come back to yourself, you’re sitting on your knees, and you’re still trembling slightly. Warm hands smooth down your back and sides, and you blink hazily at Boss, “Are you back with me now?” He asks, quietly.

You nod once.

“Use your words, cyare.” His voice is still so gentle, “Are you okay?”

“M’okay.” You mumble.

“Good.” his fingers ghost against your jaw, and then he sets your leggings in your lap, “Put these back on.”

You stare at the pants, and then at him bewildered, “But…you didn’t-?”

He laughs and leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t worry, cyare. I’m not anywhere close to being done with you.” He murmurs, “But I’m not fucking you in here. So get dressed.”

You grin up at him, delight running through you once again. “Yes sir.”

#star wars #tcw #clone commando boss x reader #boss x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #18+ fic #answered asks #clone thirsting

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sh1-n0bu · 4 months

Note

Gepard (HSR, romantic.)

the letter is sent in a soft blue envelope with cute accessories. It smells like cotton candy even. Inside is a letter with a familiar slightly messy handwriting, along with hearts decorating the sides.

Dearest gepard, how are you my love? I hope you are doing just fine back in belobog and is not overworking yourself without me reminding you to take it easy. Say hi to serval and lynx for me too would you? And of course, i say hello to you too my dear. I wonder if you miss me, and i wonder if you think of me.. Because i do to you. I miss you dearly and i think of you often. You have no idea how my heart jumped when i heard that we'll be going back to belobog for the festival there. I missed you lots.

I hope we can meet again and spend some quality time soon, my love. I'll be sure to bring you lots of delicacies from my travels with the express. Until then, please be patient and wait for my arrival. don't overwork yourself and take care of yourself for me- that was your promise to me. So keep it and think of me, would you?

Love, your dearest.

𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜! 𝙣𝙤𝙗𝙪’𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙡 𝙙𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙞𝙘𝙚!

for: gepard from honkai star rail

it came as a surprise when gepard first received a mail delivery service. a mail? for him? how odd. usually, the young captain either receives messages, urgent calls or a few report papers regarding the matters of fragmentum monsters. however, seeing the way how the envelope was decorated and the faint scent of cotton candy on it, gepard immediately knew who it was from.

so, hiding the envelope in the breast pocket of his uniform delicately — he would be damned if he gets his lover’s handmade, love-filled envelope dirty or get the edges crumpled — the young captain waves off the teasing remarks and soft whistles thrown his way by his co-workers and subordinates. he was whipped and it showed.

once the day’s shift was finished and it was time to go home, gepard was ecstatic. he could barely stay in place any longer at the office and instead hurries back home to gently pry open the envelope and read its contents. finishing the letter his astral expresser lover had written for him, the young captain picks up a clean paper and a pen, writing back his own reply.

“to, my most beloved

i’m doing alright, my dear. the duties of the silvermane guards captain never ends and you know that very well. but lately, thanks to you and your crew’s help in helping us get rid of the main source of the problem, the future of belobog looks bright. however, that doesn’t mean the fragmentum monsters will suddenly magically disappear just like that. they still continue to exist and threaten the snow plains and it’s the duty of the silvermane guards to guard and defend the borders of belobog.

speaking of festivals, the solwarm festival will take place soon. i’m not sure of the contents or how this long forgotten festival will play out, but i’m hoping to have a day or two off so i can personally show you around and enjoy the festivities alongside you. i don’t know how the solwarm festival is held or what happens there since the people had stopped celebrating it due to the eternal freeze. but knowing supreme guardian, i have faith in her and her planning of the festival.

and you really don’t have to bring souvenirs or anything from the other places you went to, my dear. because to me, the greatest gift i could ever receive is you, coming back to me safe and sound.

love, your dearest.”

#nobu.writes #hsr x reader #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x gender neutral reader #gepard x reader #gepard x you #gepard x y/n #gepard x gender neutral reader #gender neutral reader #5k followers

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pacifymebby · 1 year

Note

peaky blinders hc for what it would be like to be dating them/married to them!! xx

So i did married to them, hope thats alright xx

Tommy

🌿 Determined to make sure things are different this time, good and true, he wanted to marry you with the gypsies. So you had your wedding in the fields at the Golds settlement.

🌿Dangerous goes without saying, naturally, however somehow its worse than you imagined. You always thought Tommy was being dramatic when he said it would get worse once you were married

🌿 But it got worse, there have been multiple attempts on your life and Tommy is more protective of you than ever

🌿 He doesn't always show it in the best or most romantic of ways, sometimes he stays late at work, hours late because hes trying to pull together a plan that will keep you safe. He doesn't tell you often enough that its you hes thinking of, its yours and his future which keeps him going.

🌿Puts a lot of pressure on himself for things to be different this time. Hes been married in the past and failed to treat people right, he won't let himself go wrong again.

🌿When things get bad and youre scared - though you try to be brave for your husband - Tommy tries to get you to talk to him and admit your fears, says its good to be scared, shows youre still innocent, shows you're still alive.

🌿That kind of talk scares you more though and so he ends up bringing you into his lap/arms, cradling you to his body and whispering promises to keep you safe, to never leave you.

🌿Tells you stories, that if things get really bad you'll get a wagon together and dissappear never to return. You'll chanhe your names, leave everything behind, just you amd him together. You know it will never happen like that but the story comforts you every time.

🌿 Doesnt involve you in the business at all, determined to keep you pure and innocent. Even if he knows deep down its impossible.

🌿Spoils you, mostly with pretty jewellery and animals. Buys you dogs, always takes you with him to buy horses.

🌿Has a horse he keeps just for the two of you and takes you riding as often as he can.

🌿 Sometimes in the summer the two of you dissappear for days on that horse, living like gypsies where no one can reach you. These are his favourite memories. Brings himself hell from the rest of the family upon your return, but its worth it every time.

🌿 Youre one of the only people who can talk any sense into him, hes always talking to you about "mutual respect" and how hes heard its the most important thing in a marriage. So whenever you argue, and if you step out of line, he'll stop you and remind you.

🌿 "What is it we have love? Remind me eh i think I've forgotten?" "respect Tommy," you sigh. "Mutual respect, that means it goes both ways... Right," he pats your cheek lightly, his cheeky smile gets under your skin "that'll be that then eh."

🌿 The longer goes by the less he feels haunted by Grace. You're a mother to his children and he talks to you all the time about having a baby with you. Whenever you have sex he tells you thats what he wants.

🌿 Still calls you his angel, still believes you were sent from heaven to heal him.

Alfie

🐻 Good, quiet, stable and steady. Alfie treasures you and isnt going to let anything happen to you. Which means you lead a remarkably quiet life for a ganstas wife.

🐻 He keeps you out of business, and for the most part, keeps himself out of business too.

🐻 He made a joke at the wedding saying that if anyone tried to joke around and ask if he was the father of the bride, he'd cut them. You know he wasn't really joking, you know he occassionally does worry hes too old for you.

🐻 "Sure you wouldn't rather be out there with handsome young men your own age?"

🐻 The plain and simple answer is no... The longer answer is still no, but followed with lots of questions. For one, why on earth would you want to be with any of those arrogant younger men who waste all their money on snow and whiskey, who dont care for their women and sleep around... Your alfie is so good to you, devoted to you, takes care of you, hes your gruff and grumpy bear. You like thats hes a little old fashioned, that he has manners, that hes your old man.

🐻 Takes baths with you, candle lit, when the rooms all steamy he makes you lie back against his chest whilst he washes you. He hums you little tunes, tells you he thinks hes gonna write an opera one day. You joke and ask who will be his muse, you or tommy shelby. And when you make jokes like that he takes your wet hair and wraps it round his fist, tugs on it gently but harsh enough to pull your head back so that youre looking up at him.

🐻 "Remember our rules right ziskeit, you don't mention the name of the devil, we dont talk about cursed men right in this here home of ours" its like hes almost superstitious about it. Doesnt want you to say Tommys name because the man is cursed and the curse catches.

🐻 When you apologise you kiss each of his finger tips.

🐻 He bakes you bread (actual bread) all the time, especially when hes stressed, the kneeding is theraputic for him. Sometimes he gets you to help him, teaches you the proper way to do it with his hands over yours.

🐻 Eventually you move to margate together, he likes it better that way, thinks you can really be safe, thinks you'll finally be away from Tommy Shelby for good. He misses his old friend but he's glad to keep the curse away from you.

🐻 Can't sleep at night without you resting your head on his chest. Likes to comb his fingers through your hair until he falls asleep.

🐻 Likes to help you dress in the mornings, brushes your hair, lets you teach him how to make it pretty, but complains his fingers are too big and clumsy, not dainty like yours. But you like it better when Aflie does your hair for you, you feel prettier knowing his hands made you up like that.

Arthur

🍂 Tumultuous to say the least. This is one traumatised man and you accepted the ups and downs of your relationship a long time ago. Your one rule is that he never suffers alone.

🍂You want to go through everything with him, you never want him to be alone snowed up and sad drunk so even when he gets himself in a terrible state, even when he begs you to leave him because he doesnt want you to see him like that, you stay with him, you hold him whilst he cries, you weather his temper knowing he will never hurt you.

🍂 He does scare you, when he breaks things it scares you, but you know he loves you, you know its not really him but his illness, you've stood and watched him destroy a room before and then said "You gonna come here now and let your wife look after you?"

🍂 You hold his head to your chest and soothe him to sleep. Kiss his hair, tell him you know hes a good man. You tell him you love him all the time.

🍂 Despite the fact youre married he still has a complex, still thinks he doesnt deserve your love still thinks hes ruining your life, is terrified of corrupting you, but you never let those thoughts linger and refuse to take him seriously when he tells you.

🍂 "Dont be daft my darling husband, you deserve all the love in the world and I'll be damned if you get it from any woman but me..."

🍂 His heart is always in the right place even if his romantic plans dont always go to plan. Sometimes he buys you flowers but forgets to give them to you until theyve already wilted. Hes tried to cook for you and nearly set the house on fire.

You find it funny and endearing however, it means all the more to you that he tries so hard for you.

🍂 The sex is so good, and maybe a little relentless, because hes determined to be an honest man now he takes his full sexual appetite out on you and its exhausting in the best way possible. When hes pissed off you like to tease him into taking his frustration out on you sexually.

🍂 Naturally being the wife of a peaky blinder is dangerous, you and arthur both know that and your being so precious to him does mean that he is sometimes a little zealous trying to protect you.

🍂Men have lost teeth for looking at you.

🍂 And men who have actually tried to harm you... You didn't witness every death so you couldn't possibly say what happens to them...

🍂 Does make you feel powerful, you like how it makes you feel like a dangerous woman. You try to keep that secret though as arthur would hate to think he'd corrupted your morals in any way other than sexually.

John

🌼 John is a good husband because hes a good lad, a decent, honest, caring lad. He always did have a little more good in him than his brothers.

🌼 He takes being your husband seriously, he wants to provide for you, protect you, wouldnt see himself as a man if he couldnt keep his wife and home happy.

🌼 Wants a big happy family with you. Finds great comfort in sitting down at the kitchen table with all the weans running around, playing games like him and his brothers used to when they were kids, seeing you his wife there too. Its comforting to have this heavenly little bit of peace, even if its a kind of peace which is pure chaos.

🌼 Hes attentive, always checking in on his flower. He wants you to always be happy.

🌼 He's also still got the heart of a boy, hes childish and silly, likes playing games with you, will chase you around the garden, through the house, sling you over his shoulder when he catches you.

🌼 Plays with the kids, is a good father as well as a good husband, but definitely is the kind of father that ropes the kids into his tricks and uses them to help wind you up.

🌼 Cuddles up to you all the time, likes to catch your hand as you walk past him and pull you into a hug. Refuses to let you go, makes you put up a fight.

🌼 Lowkey always horny, is looking for any excuse and opportunity to fuck you.

🌼 Brings gifts back for you from the city, brings you flowers. Threads them through your hair.

🌼 Always trying to steal kisses from you.

🌼 At family meetings he stands by you, with his arm around your waist and his hand holding yours. He wont let anybody talk down to you. He takes protecting you very seriously.

🌼 Would throw himself in front of you, take a bullet for you, run into a burning building for you in a heartbeat. He takes being your husband very seriously.

Bonnie

🍀 Bonnie is the sweetest husband and he takes being your husband very seriously indeed, sometimes a little too seriously, which is adorable.

🍀"I'm your husband, I've got to look after you," "Got to keep my lovely wife safe and sound haven't i..."

🍀Makes you all these promises of how your life will be when hes a world famous fighter.

🍀 Treats you like youre still courting, picks you wildflowers, takes pride in catching good meat for you. Brings you little gifts back from the city. Sometimes he steals you little gifts from the city.

🍀 A boy of tradition, couldn't see you the night before the wedding...

🍀 The wedding was in spring, it was pure and blissful, you danced the whole night with him around the fires. It was a raucous celebration by all accounts and when it came to consumating

🍀 Now he dreams of having children with you, wants to be a father to your babies so badly... And telling you that when hes burried inside you makes you both hold onto one another even tighter in your passion.

🍀 He used to be nervous to have you at his fights but now youre his good luck charm... Not that he needs any luck but still, he likes to be able to look over and see his little dove rooting for him.

🍀 You insist upon being the one to help him prepare for the fight, youre the one who wraps his hands carefully. You put your forehead to his and your noses brush when you tell him to make sure he wins. 🍀You also insist upon being the one to patch him up afterwards. He doesnt like you getting your hands dirty like that, says you shouldnt be the one cleaning him up but you always argue. "Womens hands are more delicate and careful than mens, and I'm not having any other woman back here with you..."

🍀Besides its a good way of getting him alone after the fight. You love seeing the animalistic side of him that the fights bring out in him and watching him in the ring makes you want him pretty desperately...

🍀 Especially because its the only time you can trick him into being anything but careful with you. You like how hard he fucks you when he's still burning with adrenaline.

🍀And then afterwards when youre both coming down together how gentle he is with you, how concerned he is that he might have gone too hard and hurt you.

🍀He'll hold you in his lap, still burried inside you, scatter you in kisses, especially if you happen to have bruises on your neck and shoulders from his bites.

🍀"I'm so sorry little dove, do you hurt?" "Its a good kind of hurt Bonnie, it feels good," but he'll make sure to kiss every one better multiple times whilst he tells you how precious you are.

🍀Its not that he's insecure, he isn't at all, he knows you'd never pay another man any mind whatsoever, but its the principle of things... He believes in his morals and traditions and thinks other men should too... You don't hit girls, you show women respect, you protect them... And you don't flirt with other mens wives.

🍀 So if someone isn't respectful enough of you for his liking, he'll teach them a lesson.

🍀 And when he catches other men looking at you with lust in their eyes, he makes a cheeky little display of kissing you and holding you and letting everyone know youre his.

🍀 Puts his cap on your head sometimes when youre walking. Just to let everyone know youre the wife of a peaky boy.

Isaiah

��No one thought they'd see Isaiah married so young, but when he found out you were carrying his child he didn't exactly settle down but he did show everyone how serious he was about you.

🐀His father did the ceremony, it was small but lavish. A family and peakys affair, with a roaring party at the Garrison afterwards.

🐀He has you give up working, won't have his wife and the mother of his child going to work when he can provide plenty enough for the three of you by himself.

🐀You worry about him a lot. Not because you dont think hes capable of looking after himself but because you know just how capable he is of getting himself into trouble.

🐀And he does get himself into trouble, especially over you, doesnt hesitate to pick a fight with anyone whose eye you catch, now that youre his wife he takes his role as your "protector" extra seriously, not only that but he views you as his property, and no one else should be laying a finger or glance at those which belong to him.

🐀You tell him all the time you wish he'd calm down a little, get into less scraps but he says "What kind of a husband would i be if i didnt defend the honor of my wife"

🐀Really likes reminding you that youre his wife... As if you could ever forget it. Tells you youre his all the time. Makes you tell him that youre his.

🐀"Who do you belong to?" when hes fucking you, "You Isaiah, you..." "And only me..."

🐀Just because youre his wife and an honest woman doesnt mean youre having pure and honest sex... Hes rough with you, fucks you hard and fast and mercilessly.

🐀Although he likes seeing you in his jacket, he sees it as a status symbol that his wife should have lots of glamourous things of her own, so you have your own coat, which he always reminds you to wear. "What kind of husband lets his wife leave the house half dressed?" you tell him hes being dramatic.

🐀But he doesnt see it that way, he thinks you deserve the whole world, all the glamour and riches you could ever wish for, he isnt going to give you and his baby anything less than just that.

🐀Is definitely a dominant husband, has lots of ideas about the way a marriage should be and he is determined to do things properly.

🐀Tells you youre the reason he takes on dangerous jobs, that everything he does with the peakys is for you, to get a better life for you and your baby.

🐀Doesnt listen when you say you dont need anything other than him, that you only need him alive and healthy and there with you. That success and wealth mean nothing if you can't have him with you.

Michael

☘️ He comes off as cold to you sometimes. He doesnt mean to but sometimes he upsets you when he gets distant, too focussed on impressing Tommy Shelby and living up to the family name.

☘️ But when he realises what hes done and how hes hurt you he softens and warms to you immediately. Doesnt apologise for the way he has been because this is Michael and he never apologises, but he does remind you why, tells you its all for you.

☘️ Youre not sure you completely believe him there, you know some of it at least is feeding his ego, he wants everything his cousin has and more, but youre happy to let him believe that you believe his lie.

☘️And he does spoil you, youre his wife and so you must have the best, be the most spoilt woman in the room, he buys you the most beautiful dresses, has them made special for you.

☘️ His favourite thing is to buy you jewelery, especially necklaces. He has you stand in front of the mirror and watch whilst he puts it around your neck and fixes the clasp.

☘️ Then he takes the rest of your clothes off one by one, until youre only wearing the necklace, and he fucks you in the mirror, "look at all these pretty things i own," hes talking about you, "my beautoful wife, isnt she good letting me dress her up and fuck her whenever i choose"

☘️ Loves the symbolism of marriage, that youre his property that he owns you and can corrupt you. Likes that youre a well behaved, good girl who does as her husband tells her.

☘️ Kind of enjoys seeing how other men lust after you, enjoys knowing that he really does have the most beautiful woman. If he catches tommy admiring you he is both smug and pleased with himself whilst also pissed off and possesive.

☘️ In other words he has crossed a line and threatened Tommy for admiring you.

☘️ He's arrogant and it gets him into trouble a lot. You spend a lot of time soothing his wounded ego and talking him down from potential fights and bad ideas

☘️ You use sex to distract him a lot, worshipping him and really showering his ego with praise.

#peaky blinders headcanon #Peaky blinders imagine #arthur shelby x reader #tommy shelby x reader #bonnie gold x reader #Isaiah jesus x ready #john shelby x reader #alfie solomons fanfic

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caelestine-the-caelicatto · 29 days

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" A Shade of Blue in Spring's View "

Summary: The memories of spring long lost forgotten starts to resurface, as you face the last person you least expected.

The drastic way of how fate plays its game full of twists and dreams that shattered along the way.

The endless nights filled with sleepless nights, wondering where I went wrong and the what ifs as the scenario plays again in my head, like a cascade on repeat.

Choosing a path as I gamble away what is right and what is wrong, follow the rules or break the rules, be selfish or self-righteous, be the hero or be the villain.

No one really knows, but maybe in this lifetime... I'll play the role as the antagonist.

And yet, that antagonist finally meets it doom.

Crimson red flowing like the river Nile, where death upon in me is near.

Before I meet the man of death, my life flashed before my eyes. Out of all memories, it had to be Spring. The spring that changed the course of my life. The memories of spring where I was at the peak of my youth.

The spring where I experienced being a young man enjoying life to the fullest. The spring that tainted my thoughts and changed my ideals of the world. The spring where I bloomed and discovered my reason and purpose. Lastly, the spring where I found love and crushed "him" like a withered daffodil. As cliche as it is, similar to a boring romcom where the main characters run into each other's arms, embracing themselves in joy and love. I, too, was faced by the man whom I swore to death.

"You're late, Satoru." Said I, in a tone lingering like honey as I have always been when interacting with the man. Even near death doors, I will forever be gentle with my words whenever I am near him. As I lean on the wall while facing the man for the last time. Those eyes as I can recall were full of love once, and now it's filled with nothingness, no, my eyes must be fooling me. Those blue eyes that many detest, but I found solace in it says otherwise: regret.

"Suguru." The albino haired man called my name in a tone that is thicker than ice. Satoru Gojo is his name, a special grade sorcerer for having the "Six-eyes," many envy him for inheriting such technique as well as being the strongest sorcerer. But for him, he finds it a curse.

People say Satoru is special for it, but... does a technique really matter to be special? Well, maybe in the world we are in. However, Satoru Gojo is special indeed, special to the point seeing him in so much pain that only I can see.

Finally, he dropped the question that I merely chuckle.

"Any last words?" Satoru Gojo asked me, before we part ways.

"No matter what anyone says, I hate those monkeys. But I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High." I tell him honestly, "I just couldn't wear a heartfelt smile in this world."

It is the truth, after seeing my peers die for the sake of others as they slowly line up in death's doors, I could not bare that thought.

"Suguru." Surprised by how soft his voice was in this situation, brings me back to the spring nights laying on the same bed, staring at the ceiling whispering sweet nothings.

I stare at him wide eyes at his confession, A weak smile appeared on my lips and with my last breath, "At least hit me with some curses at my end."

We finally bid farewell to one another.

At some moments, maybe I cursed myself for having regrets choosing this path for myself.

I admit, I was envy of him once.

But I set it aside and played my own cards to win instead.

Nevertheless, maybe this path of ours is different and fate is too cruel for us to be together.

Just maybe, just maybe... The situation is different and a sign that we are not meant to be together.

After all, love is the cruelest curse of them all.

Mori's notes: Hello! This is my first time writing fanfiction in a while and I hope everyone likes it at least.

The dialogues are replicated as it is in the movie to give it more detail and the feels.

But, the rest are all mine and please don't plagiarism nor steal my words.

I appreciate some feedbacks, likes, and reblogs (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

Lovely dividers from @fawndollie do check her out!

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tamurilofrivendell · 7 months

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Sleeping Beauty | Chapter 14

Previous Chapters [1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13] Read on AO3 [x]

Pairing: Thranduil/Fem. Reader Summary: A Sleeping Beauty inspired tale with Thranduil the Elvenking, and a female elf living in Mirkwood under the care ofRadagast, who is actually the ‘lost’ daughter of the late High King Gil-Galad. Taglist: @hufflepuff1700 @jinlizz-dragondrama @firelightinferno @bubbleyukismile @coopsgirl @achromaticerebus @sleepyamygdala @smalltownbigheart @qmabailor @genderfluid-anime-goth, @0chemicalwaste0, @deadunicorn159, @silvercobra a/n: the way this took so long you've probably all forgotten all about it ashahgdahdj

The rabbits pulled the sleigh through the darkening forest with ease. They moved as if they knew exactly where to go, avoiding every trip hazard on the forest floor. This was normal for them but you could also tell this was not the first time they had taken Radagast to the Elvenking's Halls. You had never ventured this way yourself, always wary of crossing paths with other elves on the road. Radagast did not always speak to you of his short journeys, and he often stayed closer to home generally, but even if he had you likely wouldn't have thought anything of it. A wizard's mind was often sought out, after all.

It was late morning by the time you reached your destination.

The Halls of Thranduil were grand, located next to the Elven settlements around the Mountains. Soon enough, the king would move his palace and his people more north, further across the river. For now, they remained where his father had first led them from Amon Lanc, after the threat of Sauron first began to grow. There were rumours (that had reached you through an owl friend) that the Elvenking had reached out to Dwarves to inquire about assistance with bringing his people underground into some sort of cave system.

This sounded like the worst thing ever to you and you hoped that you would be long gone by then... if by some miracle you did not end up actually having to marry this man.

The elves from the first settlement all had their eyes fixed on the wizard's sleigh as he urged the rabbits onward towards the palace. It was incredibly uncomfortable - you had spent practically your whole life not being perceived at all and all these eyes on you at once, from something other than forest animals, made you feel slightly uneasy.

"Here we are, child." Radagast's voice pulled you back from your thoughts and you turned to look around him, as the great hall of the king came into view.

It was very tall, though not as tall as the trees that surrounded it. It was also beautiful and had clearly been built with something close to love and you thought suddenly what a shame it is that it would be abandoned when the elves finally moved on.

There was not much time to stand and admire your new surroundings, however, as Radagast took your arm to help you off the sleigh and then ushered you inside and past the guards like a stowaway. The curious eyes all turned away once the palace doors were shut but all the elves would surely whisper, trying to decide who you were. They knew the wizard but none knew of any elves he might travel with.

"Welcome, my lady." A voice drew your attention from gazing around at the grandeur of the entrance hall.

"Ah! Feren!" Radagast huffed as the door to the hall closed behind you both with a thump, making you feel very trapped suddenly. The wizard's eyes did a quick scan of those standing in the front of him and then they snapped back to Feren. "Where is the king?"

"I am afraid the king is not here. He had to take care of an urgent matter in the forest." Feren explained, his tone soft though a little regretful.

Radagast's bushy eyebrows shot up. "Not here?" He exclaimed, suddenly seeming as if the worst catastrophe in the world had happened. "Not here! He glanced at you incredulously. "He's not here!" His attention turned back to Feren, who looked startled. "But this is important. Our coming was known in advance, ooh... this is just like Th-"

"Uncle!" You cut him off with a sigh, feeling drained.

Radagast glanced at you and seemed to relax. "Right. Yes, yes... I'm sorry."

It took you a moment to realise the silence had stretched out longer than you had expected and when you glanced back up again, you saw that the elves were staring at you. Feren and the two others, the ladies standing just behind him. Three curious pairs of eyes were trained upon you, as if fascinated by hearing you speak. Feren knew exactly who you were, of course, for he had been informed but to the women, the maids, you were just a strange elleth from somewhere in the forest that the king had brought to stay in his own personal hall, and that made you a curiosity.

Unnerved, you shifted uncomfortably, and eventually sort of shuffled behind Radagast's shoulder as a means of attempting to hide.

Feren blinked and looked away, feeling guilty. He felt bad for making you uncomfortable, you could see it in his eyes, and noticing that did make you feel a little better.

"Come." Feren said, speaking to Radagast again. "The King will return by early evening. We are to show the lady to her room."

You trailed silently behind Radagast and Feren, who spoke fairly amicably as they walked the hall together. The maids took up the rear and, while you knew this wasn't the case, you felt as if you were being herded and prevented from fleeing. You looked around a little more as you walked, having never seen anything like it. The muted colours of the decor made you feel almost like you were still out in the deep woods in autumn. Almost.

"Here we are!" Feren announced cheerfully, stopping outside a large door.

You took a moment to react, your attention having been caught by the large portrait on the wall just outside the door. In an intricate golden frame sat the image of a blond haired male elf with piercing eyes. His hair was quite an icy shade of blond (though not quite as pale as Thranduil's, you noted to yourself), down past his shoulders, and braided very intricately. A large crown sat upon his head, set with gemstones the same colour as the frame.

'Oropher', was inked at the bottom of the image in large looping letters. The Elvenking's father, you realised. As you stared at his face, you couldn't help but think of Lindon, and Gil-Galad, and all you had learned about that fateful day...

It was then that your brain registered Feren's voice and you turned your head. Everyone was staring at you again and your cheeks started to flush the softest shade of pink as you hurriedly stepped towards the door he was now holding open. Radagast ushered you inside and you looked around at your new prison.

It was beautiful, truly. Larger than Radagast's entire cottage. It was too much, you decided, but it was where you were stuck for the time being, and it could certainly be worse. You didn't say anything else and Feren almost seemed disappointed, as if he had wanted to hear you speak again.

"Well, uh." He said, slightly flustered, glancing at Radagast before looking back at you. Then he gave you a little bow that made you stare at him like he'd just snapped a rabbit's neck in front of you. You frowned until you realised why he'd done it.

You were royalty.

Oh.

"I will leave you to settle in." He continued, as if not noticing your surprise. "The king will return before nightfall. He is most... eager to meet you." It was a small lie on Feren's part. When Thranduil had left the hall that morning, just before your arrival, he had seemed anything but eager. In fact, he seemed almost to be dreading it but Feren decided it was best to keep that to himself.

You turned and walked further into the room, looking around at the decor and furniture and all the space. It was far too big, too grand, but you realised this was the sort of thing you would have been born into as well. You would probably have grown up in a palace like this. You simply could not imagine it.

Feren and Radagast stood for a few moments longer, mumbling at the door together but you paid no mind. Feren soon left and Radagast tried to help you settle in with your things but you had no desire to unpack your bag. You did not want to feel like you were moving in, like you were staying here, though of course that's exactly what was happening.

You denied the help of the maids too and, eventually, they all left you alone with your thoughts. You were still so overwhelmed from all you had learned the previous day, and how quickly everything had changed. You poked around the room for a while and then you moved to sit glumly by the large window. The position of the room in the tower gave you the view of one of the settlements below but that was not what drew your gaze.

Instead, you stared longingly out over the forest, thinking of your home, your woodland friends... and Thranduil, who would be expecting to meet you in the clearing soon, but you would not come.

The clearing was quiet as Thranduil stood there, fingers stroking over his elk's fur as he waited patiently.

Another hour of standing there was when the impatience crept in.

Where were you?! It was well past the agreed upon meeting time. The sun was high in the sky by now. It was the beginning of a beautiful day but he could not bring himself to really enjoy it. Thranduil was aware that by now the girl - the princess - would be at his halls. He would have to return after meeting your uncle and he would have to try and keep the wizard from pushing any talk of marriage.

He had made his decision already. He would marry only one woman. You.

...if you ever showed up!

"Where is she?" Thranduil muttered to his elk as another half hour passed by. He could not linger out here for much longer. He had duties to attend to. He had a realm to rule, people to protect, an Enchantress to drive out.

The elk made a sound in response but Thranduil was not listening. He was suddenly standing very still, his eyes flitting around every inch of the area, peering through the trees at the edge of the clearing.

Was someone here?

Where he would have thought to feel excitement (he was expecting you, after all) he instead felt dread. He had the eeriest feeling that he was being watched. The hairs on the back of his neck had started to stand on end and there was a shiver up his spine.

The birds had also stopped singing, he realised. Where moments ago there had been chatter, now there was dead silence.

Thranduil moved then. If his own instincts had not been enough, the behaviour of the woodland animals confirmed to him that something was amiss.

He turned and jumped up onto the elk and then they were moving, leaving the clearing behing. There was a deep disappointment in his gut as he travelled back towards his palace.

Why had you not shown up? Had you changed your mind? Had your uncle prevented you? Had something bad happened? Thranduil could not even easily find out what was wrong because he knew not where to even start looking for you. His heart felt heavy as he rode back towards the mountains. Would he just never see you again?

Back in the clearing, the figure of the Enchantress stepped out from between the trees, narrowed eyes fixed on the Elvenking's retreating figure. Her lips were turned up in what could only be called a snarl and she was glaring after him with contempt. She too had come here looking for you and instead she had found that Radagast had secreted you away, just like when you were a baby. The fact Thranduil seemed not to realise that you and the princess were one and the same did not fill her with as much amusement as she would have liked.

The fact that he and Radagast had hidden you away behind the walls of Thranduil's palace, when she was so close, angered her. She had hoped that things would not progress quite so quickly now that she had finally found you, and that she might have had another encounter with you here in the clearing you frequented.

Thranduil was lucky to leave here alive, she thought to herself. She ought to have had his head right here!

Still, she thought, there was no fun in that. He would not come out victorious, none of them would. You could not be saved. The curse was in motion and it could not be stopped. It was only a matter of time and if they thought an Elven stronghold could save you, they were mistaken. She could get you anywhere.

A smirk soon replaced the scowl as the Enchantress melted back into the cover of the trees.

#thranduil x reader #thranduil x you #thranduil x oc #thranduil fanfic #thranduil fanfiction #lotr x reader #hobbit x reader #sleeping beauty

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avengerscompound · 4 months

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The Interview - Chapter 7

The Interview - A Captain America Fanfic

Masterlist PREVIOUS //

Rating: E

Warnings: nothing really

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Melody Danes

Word Count: 1747

Summary: Melody Danes gets the break of a lifetime when as a lowly intern, she’s assigned to write a profile piece on Captain America. Steve Rogers is a hard man not to fall for and as she and Melody get closer and Melody’s career takes off, jealousy leads to sabotage, and the potential to bring her whole world crashing down.

Chapter 7

The day Melody’s article was published she was taken out by Bobbi to celebrate. It felt amazing to see her words on the glossy pages of a luxury lifestyle magazine. The photos Peter had taken looked so good, being bracketed by her words. She felt like she’d made it. However, even that feeling didn’t cover the fact that she was still nervous about Steve reading it.

They had parted on really good terms about a month before the piece was published. Every time they were together felt more comfortable and more flirtatious than the last. Steve slowly opened up to her, becoming more comfortable and more real. It was exciting to get to know Steve's more playful flirtatious side, but it also felt like a privilege. It was something that was private and meant just for her. She kept those special pieces of him minimal in the article, holding onto it for herself.

Still, there was a lot of how she felt on those pages and she hoped it spoke to Steve. They had agreed to wait to decide whether to date after the article came out. That meant they hadn’t spoken to each other for a month. In that time, Melody had already started a new piece, this time shadowing Dazzler as the singer prepared for her show at Madison Square Garden.

Her nerves were high by the release of the magazine. She worried that Steve would have moved on or forgotten about her. She worried that he’d hate the article and have lost all respect for her. She worried about the general feedback on the article. And yet, there was excitement and anticipation in there as well. She’d done it. She was a published author. She was earning money as a writer. It was the dream she had been working for. If Steve never called her, she still managed to realize the dream of being a professional author. Not everyone could say that. The fact that there was also a potential relationship in the mix, was just the icing on the cake.

The night out with Bobbi was needed, and her cousin took her out for dinner and then drinks to celebrate, and she happily spent most of her first paycheck on the event. Going out with Bobbi was always a good time, but this just amped it up even more. She didn’t end up coming home until the early morning, very drunk and feeling very good about herself.

She fell into bed and passed out, sleeping until late the following morning. It was her phone that woke her. It was rare to get a phone call and when she fumbled for it, her first thought was that it was her alarm, despite being a completely different tone.

When she realized it was a call, she thumbed the answer icon and pressed it to her ear. “Hello?” she grumbled.

“You have a crush on me?”

It took a moment for her to register what was being asked of her and another moment to realize who it was that was asking her the question.

“Steve?” she croaked. Her throat was dry and her mouth felt like it was coated in wax. She reached over to her bedside table to grab the bottle of water she normally kept there, only to find it empty, and she fell back with a groan.

“How many people have you written about having crushes on?” Steve asked.

“That depends on how far back you want to go,” she said, attempting a joke, even though she felt like she was going to vomit.

Thankfully Steve chuckled softly. “Okay. How many people have you written about having a crush on recently?”

“Just the one,” she said, pulling her pillow down to cover her eyes. “So - did you like the article?”

“I did,” he said. “I like how you wrote about your feelings about spending time with me. It made it feel personal and more real than just a regular bio stating all the facts. Especially seeing as you seemed to like being around me.”

She laughed softly and licked her lips. “I do like being around you. A lot. Was that not clear?”

He chuckled. “The feeling is mutual,” he said. “More than mutual.”

She smiled and took a deep breath. Her heart was beating rapidly. He liked the article and he liked her. This was the start of something that could be great and she was in bed, nursing a killer hangover. “I’m really happy to hear that, Steve.”

“Did I wake you up?” he asked. “I can call back.”

“No, no,” she said. “I mean yes, but I don’t want you to hang up.” She groaned and sat up leaning against her thighs. “Bobbi took me out to celebrate.”

Steve laughed. “Oh, I see. This is the second time I’ve talked to you after celebrating with Bobbi. Who’s the bad influence, her or you?”

“I think we might both be bad influences on each other,” she laughed. The sound immediately made her grab her head and groan. “Oh, that was a mistake.”

He laughed. “You really went hard, huh?”

“Yes,” she complained. “You must think I’m terrible.”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’ll have a drink from time to time, I just can’t get drunk. It’s not like I’ve never tried to.”

“Really?” she said.

“Really. I’m not a huge partier, but I like to let my hair down from time to time,” he said. “Maybe a little more low-key than you is all.”

She laughed softly. “I’m usually a bit more low-key than this too. We just ramp each other up so much.”

“It’s good to have friends like that though. Mine are like that for me,” Steve said.

She relaxed again, letting herself fall back down onto the pillow with a huge smile. “I’m so glad you called, Steve,” she said. “I was worried you might not.”

“Why would you think that?” he said.

“I don’t know. It’s been a month, and maybe the article would have scared you off. I mean I did admit to having a crush on you in it,” she said.

He laughed. “Do you think you were coming on a little strong?”

“Maybe,” she said. “But I meant what I said.”

Steve made a soft sound that made her heart flutter. “You were right though,” he said. “It’s been a month. I really want to see you. Are you doing anything tonight?”

She frowned and her stomach sank. There was nothing she wanted more than to go out on an actual date with Steve Rogers, but she had a shift at her second, better-paying job. “I can’t,” she complained. “I have to work.”

“Oh - wow. New piece?” Steve asked.

“No. I wish,” she huffed. “I’m an intern at DB - it barely pays anything. I have a waitressing job to pay the bills.”

“Busy woman,” Steve said. “That’s commendable. Another day?”

“I’d really love that,” she agreed. “I work Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night this week,” she said. “Other than that…”

“What if we do Sunday brunch?” he said. “I’ve never actually done brunch before.”

“You haven’t?” she asked. “Then we definitely should do that. Brunch is the best. There's nothing like getting to drink alcohol before lunch and it be socially acceptable.”

As they spoke, Bobbi emerged from her room. Melody heard her shuffle into the bathroom and close the door. A moment later the water started in the shower.

“I would have thought you'd be put off drinking so early this morning,” Steve teased.

Melody couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah, you're right there. Even the thought of hair-of-the-dog makes my stomach roll over. But still, brunch is good. Do you have anywhere in mind?”

“I'm not sure. What about if I come up to your side of town? I mean - you did travel all over the place for me already,” Steve suggested.

A smile crossed her lips. Steve was such a gentleman, it made her feel a little giddy. “That was for work,” she reminded him. “And some of those places weren't exactly convenient for you either.”

“Even still,” he said. “I'd like to make the effort.”

“Alright. I should be able to find somewhere nice that has big portions for growing boys,” she said. “I'll text you the address.”

“Sounds good,” Steve said. “Is it weird to say that I missed spending time with you this month?”

Her smile got wider and her heart flip-flopped in her chest. Here she was waiting on tenterhooks to see if her article would scare him off or to see if he’d forgotten about her, but it turned out absence had made the heart grow fonder for both of them. Steve felt the same way about her as she did about him. “It’s not weird,” she assured him. “I have missed you too. I know it was my idea, but I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”

“It was a good idea,” he said. “There were a lot of good reasons to wait, and we didn’t want to risk starting things on the wrong foot. Your article is out. It’s good. Now we can go out there with everything on the table.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “But it feels nice knowing we both feel the same way.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, it does.” There was a pause where Steve sighed. “I better get to work,” he said. “But I don’t want to stop talking to you.”

“Yeah… I better get up and get coffee,” Melody grumbled.

Steve laughed. “Yes, you better. Join the real world. I’ll see you on Sunday.”

“See you then,” she said.

She disconnected the phone and squealed, kicking her feet in the sheets. She didn’t notice the sound of Bobbi stepping out of the bathroom. “You sound excited,” Bobbi said from the other side of the partition.

Melody sat up and crawled to the end of the bed, popping her head over the top of the room divider. “Steve and I are going out to brunch.”

“Oh, you bitch,” she said laughing. “That’s awesome. Congratulations. I can’t believe my cousin’s going to be dating Captain fucking America.”

Melody laughed along with her. “I better go have a shower,” she said. “You can work out your jealousy while I'm there.”

“I’ll do one better,” she said. “I’ll make us breakfast, and you can tell me all about the phone call.”

Melody laughed again as she got out of bed. “You, my friend, have a deal.”

// NEXT

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