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#is he completely oblivious to the way people around him adore him and wish he would stop getting concussed on their behalf?
dreamofbecoming · 1 year
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god if i was ever unsure if i had a blorbo type or not imprinting on steve harrington sure has fucking cured me of that
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maybankswhore · 9 months
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𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐄 ’ part one.
SUMMARY: jj finds himself crushing on kildare’s good girl.
PAIRING: bad boy!jj maybank x good girl!reader ( basically kook!reader. )
WARNINGS: smoking , cursing , thoughts of ‘corruption’ & violence.
listened to ‘born to die’ by lana del rey & ‘delicate’ by taylor swift & this plot was born! i’m obsessed with bad boy jj x good girl reader trope & i really liked the nsfw headcanon i did a few months back. this is one of my favorite’s i’ve ever writtenz
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Your voice was sickly sweet in his ears everytime he heard it. Your words rolling off your tongue smoothly , slipping into his brain and making it go into a fog— like the highest he’d ever get. He always wanted more , listening in absentmindedly during class when you gossiped with your friends. He loved it when you laughed at something , the way your eyes would wrinkle and your hand would cover your mouth because you were embarrassed by how loud your laughter would carry. You shined in his eyes , always floating around like some god damn angel.
You were painfully innocent. Kind and friendly to everyone you came across. It was the type of innocent that all the boys adored , and all the girls found endearing. You wouldn’t hurt a fly. Everyone who knew you either loved you or hated you— the latter always one in a million. It was hard not to like you , because of your habit to cheer up even the angriest of people around you. You were a simple girl , always walking around in your little sundresses waving at everyone and wishing them a good day.
JJ adored that part of you. He found it cute the way you were so naively oblivious. When the boys would shower you in gifts and compliments , the thought of an ulterior motive never crossed your mind. You’d simply thank them with a smile , promising to do something sweet in return. It had gotten to the point that people had stopped trying because no matter what anyone did— you treated everyone the same. You were friendly and kind to everyone , no matter how hard they tried to be special or different in your eyes it just went right over your head and you didn’t give it a second thought.
Like today , in the cafeteria , JJ watched you from across the room with his hands in his pockets leaning back in his seat. His toothpick on the side of his lip hanging as he lightly chewed it. JJ Maybank out of all people— the boy who was the complete opposite of you had been so hellbent on you. Nobody really understood it but at the same time , they were all too afraid to speak up to him about it. He was violent and mean , dismissive to girls like you. The Kooky , preppy kind. But it hadn’t mattered to him because you were his only exception.
Your friend whispered in your ear , something JJ could only guess was something about him. He watched as you flushed , not being able to stop the smirk on his face as you swatted her away with the shake of your head. With eyelashes fluttering , you looked up at him , pursing your lips. He nodded your way as a sign of approval— a hello all in the same. Your lips pressed into a smile at that , wiggling your fingers lightly before adverting your attention back to your friends. The way the girls around you went to whispering in your ear caused something to swell in JJ’s chest , hoping you’d finally manage to let him have a conversation with him. For everyone else he was hard and mean— but for you , he was soft.
“You need to give up this Y/N fantasy already.” Pope interrupted JJ’s thoughts by kicking his foot from underneath the table and earned an eye roll in return. “I’m serious. You’re acting creepy.”
John B couldn’t contain his laughter , nodding his head in agreement. “Yeah , dude. I thought you’d be over it by now but it’s been like a month and a half and all you do is stare at her.”
JJ sighed in irritation. His friends constantly gave him shit about him. Not that he could blame them. If it hadn’t have been him , he’d be giving either them the same amount of trouble over it.
Any other girl would’ve been fucked and discarded by now. He never focused on one girl for more than a week , let alone over a month. But there was something about you that always made him curious , wondering how innocent you truly were. You were beautiful , prim and proper. His crush had turned into something else inside of him— obsession at best. The way you hadn’t looked at anyone else , staying to yourself and your group of friends. The girl everyone wanted but couldn’t have. There was just something about you that caused his body to react a certain way it didn’t with the others he’d been with. Just the sound of your voice made his heart race , the little looks you’d give him sending shivers down his spine.
“Shut the fuck up and mind your business , alright?” JJ grumbled out.
“Look JJ , be realistic about this—” Pope started.
“Y/N’s a kook , okay? And not just any Kook. Like practically the Kook princess. I’m pretty sure she has Sarah Cameron beat by a long shot.” John B continued listening on the reasons. “You can’t stand Kooks and she’s like—” he glanced over at you , in your pretty pink sundress. “She’s like nice and you’re not all that nice.”
JJ narrowed his eyes at John B. “I’m nice to you.”
Pope chuckled. “Yeah barely. And that’s because you have to be or you’d be homeless. I have Chem with Y/N and John B’s right. She is pretty nice. You don’t like girls like that.” He thought back to all the girls JJ had been interested in the past and none had been like you. There were all same , a bit snippy and wild. Partying at the bonfires , sleeping with him the same breath. You weren’t like that and he’d rather be honest with JJ then have his friend hurt the good in you , regardless if you were a Kook or not.
“You guys need to just mind your fucking business.” JJ spat them , clearly fed up. They should’ve known better than to push at him— his anger always got the best of him in any situation. His chair scraped loudly as he stood up and yanked his bag from off the floor.
“JJ , c’mon man—” John B called after him , but it was too late. The only reminder that the blonde had even been in the cafeteria was the doors swinging closed behind him.
The commotion caught your attention. You watched as JJ briskly walked away from his friends , an unreadable expression painted on his face. Whatever conversation your friends were in now seemed like white noise to you , knawing on your bottom lip nervously.
It was JJ Maybank. The boy all the girls talked about in the locker room. Some of things you had heard , though , you had wished you hadn’t. You felt pervy when you listened in on certain conversations about how he was in bed , rough and fucking girls like a man scorned one too many times. And you knew he looked at you. Your friends would always gush about it , saying how lucky you were to have had his attention this long. Your parents knew of him , too. Nothing good ever leaving their mouth when a conversation involved him— your dad complaining about his trouble–maker lifestyle.
The inward war in your head seemed to come to a close when your body reacted before your brain did. Looking towards your friends you flashed them an innocent smile , claiming that you didn’t feel good and wanted to use the bathroom before the period ended. Brushing off their concerns , you grabbed your own schoolbag before rushing towards the door JJ had once walked through. Your eyes flickered around the halls to find him , only barely catching sight of his blonde hair rounding the corner.
Taking in a deep breath , you took it amongst yourself to follow behind him— your legs moving before your brain could think it through. “JJ!” His name fell off your lips easily , like it was something you had practiced in the mirror for days. The way his movements immediately stopped at the sound of you , looking over his shoulder to make sure it really was you. Starting to feel nervous , you swallowed anxiously while tightening your grip on the backpack straps. “I uh— well I saw—” you flushed red as you stammered.
His eyes on you this close , just a mere foot away seemed to cause more of a reaction than you thought. Beautiful even up close , the way his lashes dusted the apple of his cheeks seemed to entrance you more up close. He still held that cocky smirk though , pleased to see you had come looking after him. His reaction was practically stoic besides that , but you weren’t inside of his chest feeling the way his heart had started beating rapidly. “Yeah?” JJ drawled out , his voice teasing.
You cleared your throat as you tried speaking again. “Well you left in a hurry and I was just making sure you were okay.” You finally managed to breathe out trying your best to ignore how shaky it sounded.
You weren’t used to things like this. Feeling so worked up over a boy. Your whole demeanor had seemed to shift just slightly , and it pleased JJ to see. “Sweet little Y/N , like always.” He hummed.
You blushed at that. The name coming from JJ made your pulse quicken. “Yeah. . .” you managed to breathe. “I–I can go. I just , you know—”
“Were worried.” JJ finished for you , finding humor in the way you stumbled over words.
“Yeah.”
Silence seemed to begin to suffocate the two of you. Suddenly you felt warm , almost sweating with JJ’s eyes on you. Biting the inside of your cheek , your nervous habit , you tucked your hair away from your face. “I have to get back to my friends—”
“Okay.” Was all he said , still looking at you. Flushing red , you nodded awkwardly and slowly started moving to turn away. You silently cursed at yourself as you began to feel embarrassed.
Before you disappeared around the corner , you heard JJ’s voice once more. “Come to the Boneyard tonight. We’re throwing a party. Come.”
You hadn’t bothered turning back or even sparing another look. His words rang around in your head— the way he looked at you burned in the front of your memory , replaying the color of his eyes.
Parties weren’t your thing and they never really had been. Your parents didn’t like them much and the crowds always seemed to overwhelm you. And the idea of being at the Boneyard of all places. . .
But something in the way that your stomach bubbled and your heart hammered— told you to raid your closet and find something pretty to wear.
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The night had come faster than neither you or JJ would’ve liked it to. You were a bundle of nerves. You had reapplied your lip gloss for what seemed like the hundredth time. And JJ just as equally on edge wondering if you’d even show up. As cool as he tried to play it , he knew it wasn’t cool. He wanted you there , to sneak you off somewhere to have you all to himself the way he had fantasized about. Too afraid of the chance of you not bothering to show up— though he couldn’t be too mad at you with the way he had invited you ( he wasn’t even sure you heard him ) , he hadn’t told the Pogue’s about it.
Wanting to play it safe rather than sorry.
Little did he know how determined you actually were. You picked out the prettiest thing in your closet , wanting to look your best. Paying attention to the littlest details , butterflies swirling in your stomach at the anticipation to see him. It seemed like a long time coming , anyway. Right? Your friends had noticed it before you had and at first , you weren’t sure to even bother. But JJ— JJ was different than all those other boys that tried it on with you. That’s all they seemed to be , boys. But JJ was more than that. You could tell in the way he carried himself. How closed off he was. There were things about him that nobody knew , things he had kept hidden about himself. Short sentences and broading shoulders , you knew there was more to him and your eagerness to know was foreign to you.
You had debated on calling one of your girlfriends to go with you. That’s what you had told your parents anyway. You knew they’d be furious with you if they found out where you really going , so you shrugged it off as just a get together with your girlfriends. Your excuse also allowed you to be out later than your normal curfew. Lying wasn’t something you liked to do and so you considered calling your friend— Jessie , to go with you but you didn’t feel like explaining it to her or anyone else for that matter.
Your mother allowed you to take her car and as you drove off towards The Cut , you did feel a little bad for your lie. The whole thing made you feel guilty and considered turning around and blowing the whole thing off , but the excitement you felt of seeing JJ again triumphed it.
You were a mess when you pulled up. You inwardly cursed yourself for the position you were in now. There was no way of finding JJ other than scouting through the crowds for the familiar color of his dirty blonde hair , hoping it wasn’t covered with a hat. Being by yourself made you feel open , and you fidgeted with your hands as you walked towards where everyone was— the sound of music booming on the beach helping you know where to go.
The moonlight illuminated your path just enough for your feet to hit the sand , the fire doing the rest. Your eyes flickered around to see any familiar face , but there was so many people. Red solo cups everywhere , the smell of weed making your nose crinkle. It wasn’t until now that you realized how in over your head you were.
Taking a deep breath , you gained the courage to move. You smiled at the people who glanced your way with wide eyes , not expecting to see you there. Sheepishly you waved , hoping to find someone you had at least more than one conversation with.
It took a bit of searching until you finally found someone. Pope Heyward.
He was JJ’s friend and the two of you had Chem together. Once even being partnered together. Taking a breath of relief , you politely pushed your way towards him , chewing harshly on the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t noticed you— not until you nervously approached in front of him.
When his eyes landed on you , his face went pale. He had to blink a couple of times to make sure it was really you. “Y/N?” He said your name confused , glancing around nervously. “What’re you doing here?” Pope asked but he had feeling he knew.
Pulling at your fingers you shrugged and tried to look around him to see if JJ was anywhere near. “It’s me.” You laughed lightly , flushing. “JJ invited me.”
“Oh!” He chuckled with eyes flickering around crazily. You cringed to yourself embarrassed and when Pope noticed , he quickly spoke again. “Not like a bad oh! Just a surprised oh. I didn’t think you came to things like this.” Pope explained himself.
“It’s okay , trust me I know.” You brushed it off to ease the tension between the two of you now , hoping it’d disperse. “But um— I don’t know.” You shrugged. “Wanted to see what it was like s’all.”
Pope nodded in understanding and wrapped an arm around your shoulders loosely , looking around again. He could tell you felt uncomfortable and wanted to make you feel a little better before finding JJ. “Did you come by yourself?” He asked , a bit of concern lacing his voice.
“Um , yeah.” You grimaced at how small you sounded but the look on Pope’s face made you feel a little better. “I figured I’d already know some people here and look— I found you.” You offered a grin , to which Pope gratefully returned.
“I’m sure JJ’ll be happy you’re here.” He assured you with a confirming nod.
He helped guide you through the mess of people towards the Kegs , and you spotted him. Your stomach fluttering at the sight of him. He wore his usual white t–shirt though it was a little more tighter than you were used to seeing. It hugged his biceps well and the sight made your legs feel like jelly. A backwards hat on top of his head. He was laughing giddily with John B and a couple other friends , his arm around his friend shoulders.
John B spotted the two of you first. His eyes widened just like Pope’s had and he quickly nudged JJ’s shoulder obnoxiously , pointing towards the two of you.
When JJ looked over and saw you , he couldn’t help but the accomplished smile that took over his face. His eyes scanned you slowly , not bothering to hide how he was checking you out. You were still wearing his favorite— a pretty little sundress , in the color light pink this time. He almost groaned at the sight. The night sky did you justice , drawing attention to the highlights of your face , the plumpness of your lips. He found you to be the most beautiful he had ever seen you.
“There’s no fucking way.” John B mumbled as you approached them obviously anxious as you smiled.
“What’d you know.” JJ spoke up , grinning at you. “The Kook Princess actually came.”
The name he used for you made you flush but you roll your eyes all the same. Trying to play it cool , you simply shrugged and looked around. “Thought I’d see what the hype was all about s’all.”
JJ threw his head back in laughter. Knowingly. “Of course you did. Well—” he threw his arms up and gestured towards the atmosphere. “Thoughts?”
“It’s alright.” You hummed and turned your attention towards John B who was watching the interaction with his jaw slacked open. “Hi John B.”
“H–Hey.” He stuttered in surprised. “I can’t even lie right now I’m fucking shocked to see you here , Y/N.”
Closing your eyes in a bit of frustration , you nodded slowly. “So I’ve been told. Twice.” You emphasized the word.
“Right.”
Rocking back and forth on your heels , JJ dropped his arm and walked closer to you. You looked up at him through fluttering lashes coated in mascara , the blush you wore drawing attention the way the smell of his cologne made you flush. “Want a drink?”
Looking back at the keg , you shook your head timidly. “Any water?”
“Inside.” JJ told you. Without wanting he reached down and grabbed your hand , pulling you towards you and away from Pope. “Catch you guys later.” He said , pulling you in the direction of the Chateau.
His hand in yours was like salt and ice. It burned so bad but in a way that made your breathing hitch and mind become hazy. You liked it. Ring clad fingers squeezing your own.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” JJ admitted as the two of you walked in the kitchen. You leaned against the counter and watched as he moved towards the fridge. “Didn’t think it was your scene.”
“It’s not.” You quipped. The smirk on his face making you squirm. “Like I said , I was curious.”
JJ chuckled and walked towards you again. Just like in the hallway , his attention attentively on you as you shifted foot to foot. Handing you the water bottle you reached for it , fingers grazing his making you gasp lightly. Blushing you cleared your throat. “Cold.”
Your reaction to him made his chest feel big. The way you were squirming around trying to act all confident when JJ knew you weren’t. Humming to himself , he stepped towards you closer. One arm leaning on the counter your back was using , the other reaching out to touch your necklace. Your breathing hitched once again , caught in your throat as his hands danced on your skin lightly. Barely touching but just enough to make you feel it.
“You look pretty.”
The sentence was simple and sweet. Something you had heard a thousand times before. But hearing it come from JJ made you feel different. It made your stomach bubble and the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. You hadn’t even noticed how hot the tips of your ears were starting to get. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
You almost laughed how the situation mirrored the one from this morning. Cocking your head to the side , you decided to speak up again. “Do you like me?” The question slipped before you meant it to and you instantly regretted it. JJ’s face didn’t falter though , instead his face only looked amused.
“Why do you ask?” He was teasing you now. His tone of voice showing it off.
“Well— well because! My friends always catch you looking at me in school and sometimes when I’m in the library it looks like you’re going to talk to me but you never do and— and you invited me here.” You squeezed your eyes shut in pure embarrassment. Your cheeks were surely flamed red and you were positive you sounded like an idiot.
JJ softened at your expression.
“You’re right.” He started watching as you slowly peeled your eyes open to look at him. “I do all those things and I do it because—” pausing he tried to figure out what to say. JJ did like you , alot. But you were fragile and delicate , the prettiest flower out of a whole entire garden. And as much as he wanted to pick you and keep you forever , he couldn’t stand to be the reason you wilted. For the first time that JJ could ever remember , he didn’t want to hurt you. “I like you , Y/N—” his words barely above a whisper.
“But. . .” you guessed.
“But you’re you and I’m me. You’re everything good in this world and I don’t want to go corrupt that.” Selfishly he did , but he wouldn’t— couldn’t , be selfish when it came to you.
You paused to look at him. Searching his face for any sign of anything other than him being truthful. You were quick to find that there was nothing there. He was being genuine and your heart lurched at that , speeding up like crazy. You knew it was insane. The idea of you and him. You knew he was violent , and a player and just the type of boy your mother always told you to stay away from.
Shamefully , you weren’t strong enough to walk despite all the facts spelled out in front of you.
“I like you , too.” You said carefully. Studying him as you spoke. He hung on to every word , absentmindedly leaning in a bit closer each second. “That’s enough for now.”
Your words made his eyes flutter closed. His forehead leaned against yours as you felt every sense in your body overload. Goosebumps rising.
“For now.” He let out breathily.
It would be enough. For now.
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kingconia · 9 months
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HOW TWISTED WONDERLAND'S HOUSEWARDENS ACT WHEN YOU ARE THEIR FAVOURITE CELEBRITY
— ; gender-neutral ; might as well do the second and the third part with vices and first years if you want ;
Riddle Rosehearts. ❤️
— You are his favourite fashion designer. It might sound ridiculous on some extent, but he fell in love with your collections of clothes in his early childhood;
— Not only you made an exquisite pieces on your own, but also, as a former student of NRC—most likely, from Pomefiore—you often create collections inspired by each of houses;
— Riddle's mother strongly shares his strange obsession over you, so she bought him a lot of your clothes;
— When he becomes a student, he indulges himself by ordering a special lining of clothes that will be made only for him.
”I see,” you nod, gripping a pencil harder as you frantically draw something on the paper. ”That wouldn't be a problem at all. In fact, I actually enjoy your ideas.”
”Really?” Riddle blushes traitorously, almost knocking the tea cup of the table. Gladly, you don't notice due to being too involved in sketching. ”I, I mean, it is pleasant to know.”
Just as rumours told, you were a very interesting, though, extravagant creature. Not in the rude way. But it seemed like an outside world hardly existed for you. All your attention was centred on your works.
”Give me two weeks, and I will finish everything,” you finally look at him, eyes sprinkling with a pure inspiration. ”Will it be fine for you, mister Rosehearts?”
”Of course,” he offers you a nervous smile. ”Take all the time in the world, please”
”Good,” you hum, standing up from your chair. ”It is pleasant to work with you.”
He nods, being completely at loss of his words. You are his idol, his legend... He doesn't know how to talk with you.
”Oh, and... Thank you for this short opportunity to visit the walls of my old school once again. It is interesting experience,” you wink at him, before disappearing in the depth of his garden.
Riddle gasps.
That is so much better than his dreams!
Leona Kingscholar. 💛
— Might be a controversial opinion, but you are his favourite political figure in the Afterglow Savannah;
— Perhaps, it is because you are not dazzled by his brother, always keeping your coolheaded and calculated attitude. Or maybe it is because you actually tried to help him to get involved in the country's council. Nevertheless, he strangely adores you;
— As a kid he dreamt a lot of becoming a king, and making you his consort. But, of course, his dreams were useless and quite embarrassing;
— Yet, even after all these years, are the only person, who makes him stutter. Ruggie honestly loves it;
”It is pleasure you meet you again, prince Leona.”
As soon as Leona makes an eye contact with you, he gets absolutely lost. It takes almost a minute from him, to bow his head before you respectfully, and to answer.
”...Farena never mentioned you coming,” he tries to sound cool as usual, but his tail is swaying nervously, betraying him. ”But, of course, you are very welcomed here.”
You nod, but stay very oblivious to his excitement. You never actually notice his adore towards you, always too focused on your work, rather than paying attention on people around.
”I had a meeting with this head of the school of yours,” you frown a little at these words, and he assumes you didn't really like Crowley. ”And his Majesty decided to bring Cheka along. Since he insisted, I couldn't deny the wish of little prince.”
”Yeah... Thank you very much for taking care of this little cub.” He mutters, tugging his own braids nervously. ”May I ask what could possibly be required from Crowley?”
Your ears perk up a little; a good sign of you being interested in the topic. Leona instantly feels smug that he was able to raise a right topic to drag you in conversation.
”If prince Leona doesn't mind, we could discuss it while walking around your school,” you suggest, now with your tail swaying enthusiastically. ”I also think, you will be interested in my proposition."
As if he isn't interested in everything you do...
”I wouldn't dream of anything better,” he answers honestly. ”Ruggie will take care of Cheka then.”
Ruggie, whose present was forgotten easily, rolls his eyes. As two of you leave, speaking in the hushed tones, he couldn't help but cuss at Leona. What an annoying brat he is.
Azul Ashengrotto. 🩵
— Quite predicable. You are his favourite lawyer in the whole world, much to his stepfather's displeasure;
— He is actually the one, who told stories about you—since you are working in the same area—but he couldn't imagine that his son will be so invested in your figure;
— Azul has a whole wall with cutouts from news about your wins in the court. He stares at it every morning, for—as he says—a manifestation a luck and success;
— He is buzzing with excitement, when Crowley invites you on the orientation day to inspire his students.
You let out a tired groan.
It is not the first time you are invited on lections for kids, but it was definitely the hardest one. Mostly, because there was this very enthusiastic boy, who asked you a million questions about everything. Your work, your ideals, your previous cases.
And while you could feel a great potential in him, you also was drained. That is why when you hear his voice again, you are thinking about running away.
”Excuse me, Y/n Y/s? I... I apologise for the interruping your rest time, but I simply wanted to say how impressive you are, and—”
You raise your hand, gesturing him to stop. He does so, a little bit ashamed.
”What is your name?” You ask him instead.
”I... My name is Azul Ashengrotto,” he pauses, glancing at the floor, probably, assuming you will scold him.
”Oh,” you blink in late realisation. ”I know your father. He is the lawyer, too, isn't he?”
He nods, and you finally realise where he got this persistence from.
”Well, Azul...” You shuffle in your pocket, finding one of many visit cards you carry with you, handing it to him. ”You are truly quite smart kid. And if you will still be sure in becoming a lawyer later, after your school ends, you can always contact me. I think, I could become your mentor.”
He stares at your visit cards so shocked, that you wonder if he is okay. Nevertheless, as he is speechless, you are quickly attempting to leave the corridor, before he starts asking more.
”T... Thank you very much! I will.” You hear him saying, when you are already at doors.
It is a shame you miss his screeching sounds of happiness as you left, though. People will kill to see Azul Ashengrotto acting like this.
Kalim Al-Asim. 🧡
— Another predictable answer. You are his favourite dancer;
— You dance in some different styles at the same time, and he honestly adores the way you switch so easily between them;
— ...He is crying from the pure excitement, once you try east style of dances, and Jamil listens him sobbing for an hour, while he spams your Magicam with millions of complements;
— Of course, Kalim shoves a sack of money in Crowley's face, so he could invite you on some ball in the school to perform, lmao.
”I am honestly flattered,” you admit shyly, while Kalim kisses your hands adoringly. ”And surprised! We, dancers, rarely appreciated as much as actors or singers... But, uh, thank you very much!”
Kalim jumps on his feet, smiling even wider with each word. Not only you danced gracefully, but also spoke this way! He is so amazed by you!
”No, no, thank you! You can't explain how much joy you bring in my life!” He practically screams, making others to glance in your direction suspiciously. ”I actually wanted to show my gratitude! So, maybe you want to have dinner with me and Jamil! Jamil's cooking is just amazing! You will love it!”
You raise your brows in surprise, but laugh quietly. This boy is very, very funny.
”Oh, that sounds nice, but... I have a special diet, so I assume I cannot...”
Before your finish your sentence, a lean and dark figure of the boy around Kalim's age appears behind you. With a slight nudge to your shoulders, he whispers, almost pleadingly.
”Please, agree to this offer. He is literally will cry for hours if you don't.”
Ah, that is supposedly Jamil...
You return your gaze on Kalim, who is watching you with big, watery eyes. You really can't say no...
”I assume... If only for an hour or, so...”
"Yay!”
Idia Shroud. 💙
— You are his favourite cosplayer, because of course you are;
— A love from the first sight, some can call it. But he is obsessed with each character you do! You nail it!
— He is not social enough to actually write comments on your photos, or even appear on the same Cons as you, so instead, he keeps his love anonymous;
— And by that I mean sending you a lot of donations, and buying all your Wishlist for new cosplays, lmao.
You stare at the big amount of money that came to your account this morning. The sender stays the same throughout this year; an anonymous fan named as a Hounddog666. No matter how concerning it is, you are actually flattered. Someone really loves you this much!
So, as usual, you message to him to thank for it.
His account—the only one you has—is private and closed, no photos, no names, no followers. You assume it is fake.
You:
Hello, hello! :) I just received your new gift, and I wanted to say how much I am grateful for your support. I wish I could do something for you as well, though.
Answers comes immediately.
Hounddog666:
Greetings. Please, continue to make all of us happy with your art. It means a lot for me. (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ
You smiled, shaking your head slightly. How sweet.
You:
Thanks, really. Maybe we should meet sometime, if you are such a fan of mine, haha.
Perhaps, it is slightly stupid and naive decision. This person could be a possible stalker or maniac, but... Well, you couldn't help but be curious of how exactly looks a person that adores you like this.
Hounddog666:
Perhaps.
You hum as he vanishes from online.
At the meantime, Idia Shroud falls from his chair after recieving your message, making other students in the History of Magic class glare at him with disapproval. But what would they know? He is just became closer to his idol!
Vil Schoenheit. 💜
— Surprisingly... You are his favourite writer;
— The connection between actors and writers is always a strong one. Writers and books are a constant tools for actors that help them understand characters and their inner thoughts;
— Vil isn't an expectation! He loves your books for many years, and his only dream was to play some of your characters;
— That is why he immediately suggested his candidature on the main lead in the film adaptation of your book that was announced recently.
Vil huffs, staring at his reflection absent-mindedly. A closed scenario in front of him ache his eyes, making his chest to tighten nervously.
This character, whose role he got, is his favourite actually. As a teenager, he found this boy with a complicated writing, a very relatable one. And he thought, it would be easy to play him as they share the same issues and pain. Bur instead, he finds himself... Feeling worse as he does so.
Each conversation with your about this character makes him feel nauseous. It is as if he is playing himself! And for some reason that he can't understand, it is not pleasant at all!
”Here you are,” he hears your warm voice, and before he realises you are close, you already put a cup of green tea in front of him. ”Are you okay, Vil?”
He nods thankfully, accepting the drink.
He should be happy now. He met his favourite person in the world, he has a possibility to speak with you so casually. Then why, he feels so shattered?
”I am,” Vil answers. ”It is just... A hard role.”
You nod, and he catch the glimpse of understanding in your eyes.
”Trust me, I know. Writing him wasn't easy, too. Do you know why?” He shakes his head. "Because I put a lot of myself in him. And it felt... Awful. As if I was peeling my own skin from myself, layer by layer, until I was left naked in front of thousands... No, millions people. It is never easy to be sincere, I am afraid.”
Vil blinkes.
This! This is why he loves your books. It is the way how beautiful you yield your thoughts, putting them in gentle, yet piercing, words. It is about you understanding him, despite never knowing before.
He finds himself smiling widely.
”This makes me even more glad that I am playing him,” he says, more collected than before.
You laugh, patting his shoulder slightly.
”I feel the same way about you playing him, Vil. Believe me or not, you look and act exactly as I pictured him to be.”
He gasps happily.
You are satisfied with him. That's absolutely beautiful!
”I will try not to disappoint, then.”
Malleus Draconia. 💚
— You are his favourite artist whose works were introduced him by Lilia;
— He fell in love with your drawings first, but as soon as he realised that you not only draw, but also make sculptures, he fell in love even more;
— Buys and adores everything you do, but especially likes it, when you give interviews, explaining all little details and historical context behind your works. You are smart. He likes it about others;
— No surprise he commissions a gargoyle statue from you, eventually.
”You speak so beautiful, young prince,” you murmur, astonished by the fae in front of you. ”I... I can't explain how charmingly inspiring your stories are!”
Malleus feels unexplainable amount of joy, when he sees you pacing from one side room to another, inspired by his words. His stories.
No one ever shared his interest in gargoyles, and this kind of reaction feels... Strangely rewarding.
”It is only small part of what I have to say about gargoyles,” he assures you quietly. ”But I am glad that you find it as curious as I do.”
”Curious?” You echo his words, stopping in front of him. ”That is not curious, young prince, that is ethereal. Ephemeral. It feels like chasing a dream.”
He smiles at your excitement, baring his fangs out. He feels the same way about it. For once, Malleus's assumptions were right; you are exactly who he searched for all these years.
”Young prince,” you take his hands in yours, making his breath hitch, ”please, if you enjoy my result on your commission later, I am begging you to work with me on my next project about gargoyles. I feel like it will be my magnus opium. I—”
You continue to chatter actively, voice becoming higher with each sentence, but Malleus only can stare at you and at your linked arms. The tip of his ears are reddening. Is it even real?
Not only he will have new works from you, but also... He will be able to spend time with you?
Does you expect him to refuse?
”It will be a pleasure of mine,” he tells you, with a genuine adore in his eyes.
”My prince,” you squeak,” I already love you. Thank you, thank you!”
And at this point, others can't say for sure, who is whose fan here...
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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year
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Ghost w/ an Innocent S/O
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Warnings: Reader isn't streetsmart, but they are booksmart, no pronouns used for Reader except 'you', mentions/implications of sex, fluff, Ghost wanting only to keep Reader safe 🥺, vague spoilers/implications of Ghost's past
You're the complete opposite of Ghost's brutal, cold personality.
And because of that, he worries.
He worries that someone would take advantage of your good nature, your eagerness to see the good in everyone and (potentially) misplace your trust.
And that's just when Ghost's home; imagine how he is when he's away.
Escorts anywhere and everywhere.
If you're smaller than him, absolutely no compromise.
Unless you know self-defense.
If you're as large as/larger than him, he'll be a bit more lenient, trusting that you'll be somewhat able to physically protect yourself.
Loves talking to you because your views and opinions are such a breath of fresh air to him.
No brutality, no intense hatred, no desire to see anyone suffer; just you and your wish that "Everyone would just get along."
Ghost knows it's not as simple as that. And you do, too.
You may be naive or innocent, but you're not stupid.
You're actually pretty booksmart.
You make up for things Ghost lacks, and he for you.
You provide the logical answers to something, he provides the practical.
He also adores how wholesome you are.
If you hold this man's hand when you're out and about, or even in private, he'll melt.
He won't show it, of course. But your delicate touches just do something to him.
Make life worth living.
Now, when it comes to sex, you're either quite bashful or absolutely oblivious, regardless of whether you and Ghost have done it before.
He usually has to initiate because there's no way you'll construe his hints the way he wants you to.
"Fancy an early night?"
A concerned look will cross your face.
"Oh, are you ill? Are you tired? You get your pajamas on and I'll bring you some water-"
You're so endearing, and were it not for the fact that Ghost is beyond horny right now, he'd laugh.
You're always willing whenever he initiates, though.
If you end up initiating first one day out of the blue after finally understanding how to give and take a hint, Ghost will likely be in your position.
Won't understand what's happening, believing that whatever vaguely erotic joke or request you'd just made was completely accidental.
Will only grasp the situation when he sees the mischievous look you're giving him.
You're not walking for a couple days after that.
This man lives for your kisses and cuddles, btw.
He loves engulfing you in his frame, protecting you from anything and everything.
He does love when you try and cover him, though.
Like a blanket trying to clothe a whale.
Doesn't care much for 'preserving your innocence' as he believes that you should be allowed to grow and learn as much as you want.
Will advise what you should stay away from, though, and only because he doesn't want you to be traumatised rather than enlightened.
Doesn't worry too much about the others making crude jokes around you since he knows you'll likely not care for them.
But if they make one to you or about you.
💀
They will receive a near-deafening grinding-down, either in front of everyone or in private, depending on how lenient Ghost is feeling.
If you're ever upset about something, Ghost will try and fix it.
Without fail.
He loves how compassionate you are towards people and animals.
Complete 180 from the blood-drenched world he's inhabited for the better part of his life.
Coming back to you feels like reprieve. Like all the trauma and bloodshed can't reach him when he's with you.
Lowkey loves how you decorate your home, even if it's not his personal favourite aesthetic.
It feels like you. Smells like you.
If you're an introvert, Ghost would happily just lay with you all day and never leave the house.
His favourite activity, regardless.
If you're extroverted, however, he'll go wherever you go, unless you explicitly state you want him to stay at home. But only if you're good at self-defense.
Even then, he'll be nervous until you return.
Only asks that you keep him updated about where you are so he can come and find you if needs be.
Hates the idea of becoming a helicopter boyfriend; lets you have your freedom.
Just wants to protect you from everything he wasn't protected from, both as a child and now.
But that's why he does what he does; why he works as a soldier.
And he'd do it all again if it meant keeping you safe.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
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thebadboyfanclub · 1 year
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You Bled For Them, You Decide Pt.2 (Daemon x Reader)
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So a lot of people requested a part two of this and had some requests on what should it be about, the stakes were high so I hope I did not disappoint you. Enjoy!
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Part one
(Y/n) was not a fool, she was sure that the second she steps foot in Targaryen ground all eyes would be on her, the mystery woman that managed to tame the rogue prince. She despised that nickname, (y/n)s opinion was that her dear husband had simply leaned towards violence to make up for the pain he had felt, Daemon was a passionate man which meant he loved as deeply as he hated, she knew Daemon would burn the seven kingdoms to ensure that their family is safe, he was a man of honour.
“Do you truly believe a character like prince Daemon has settled?”
“It certainly looks like it, he hasn’t stepped away from her and the children for longer than a minute”
“The children… well at least with this union no one can question their true parentage”
Otto whispered the last part only for his daughter queen Alicent to hear. Everyone was at awe how none of the kids had inherited their mothers features except small details,(y/n) adored the fact that they looked like the father, she was unaware what a big role on their safety that played.
“I believe we must introduce ourselves, would be interesting”
Alicent suggested while her father hummed in agreement, in almost complete unison they began to walk towards the couple that was pre occupied with the king.
“Alicent and Otto, to what do we owe the pleasure?”
Daemon questioned ironically, (y/n)s eyebrow was raised in confusion as she looked up at him for clues about the sudden change on his demeanour.
“Prince Daemon, it’s been so long since we last saw you, you were newly widowed at the time”
“Widowed?”
(Y/n) never pressured Daemon to speak of his past, he revealed what he wished while he laid on her chest and let her to brush his silver hair with her fingers. Daemons eyes squinted at the smart remark Lord Otto had thrown at him, he was looking for a way to cause a problems in his marriage.
“Your lady wife seems oblivious to the fact that you were wed prior”
Alicent noticed, (y/n) tried to keep her composure and patiently wait until they are alone to question her husband. Daemon was ready for war, they were pushing the boundaries in order to get what they want, to destroy what he worked so hard for and he wasn’t going to stand for it.
“I was forced into a marriage for alliance that is correct, (y/n) is my first true match, I thank the Gods for sending her to me every morrow”
Daemon was being genuine, his lady wife had been a miracle, the Gods took pity on him and showed him what it is like to have a reason to come back from battle alive. Daemon took his (y/n)s hand in his to place a kiss on her knuckles, (y/n) smiled even though her mind had stored the new information for another time, it wouldn’t be wise to pick a fight while attending a funeral.
“Such tender words, I am glad you have left your infatuation with princess Rhaenyra behind you”
The sentence that was spoken from the Queens lips made (y/n)s blood ran cold, the woman that she had just been introduced to had an affair with Daemon? It could not be, she was a married woman, the daughter of his own brother, “no that wouldn’t stop him, he is a Targaryen” she thought as her hands started to shake from anger. Thankfully her eldest daughter cut the conversation short before push came to shove and (y/n) showed her temper, the girl was panting while her cheeks were severely blushed from running around, she hadn’t been this blissful in weeks.
“Mother, can me and Aemond go play in the shore?”
“Aemond?!”
Daemon exclaimed, earning a side eye from everyone, if he had it his way his children would never play along side Alicents children, maybe little Heleana would be an exception but that would be it, especially when it came to his precious daughters he hated when they would be boys around them, even worst if they were hightowers.
(Y/n) did not spare a look at her lord husband, she simply tucked away a few strands of hair that seemed to stick on the young girls sweaty forehead and smiled lovingly, Alyssa was in much need of a companion, she loved her siblings but she would always have to take care of them.
“Of course my little deer, better yet I’ll come with you. I would love to meet your new friend Aemond”
-
(Y/n) had managed to discreetly slip away from everyone, she found joy at watching her daughter play carelessly with her new friend, the timid Aemond that barely raised his gaze to (y/n) when introduced, still he ran with Alyssa around the shore as they had both taken their shoes off and splashed in the water.
(y/n) could stay like this together, away from everyone with her family while they enjoyed the simple things life had to offer, it’s what her and Daemon had in common, although she could identify that Daemon had missed his brother, perhaps he missed princess Rhaenyra as well.
“Come along sweetlings, it’s getting dark”
“Mother please just a few more minutes”
“Fine, I will make sure your siblings are sleeping and then I will come back to escort you”
“Thank you lady (y/n)”
Aemond replied with the utmost respect. (Y/n) simply smiled as she turned her back on the children, with the assistance of a kind knight she was guided to the room (y/n), Daemon and little Johanna would occupy for the night, she had already peeked inside the other rooms for her children to find the sleeping peacefully.
To her misfortune she never had great memory when it came to directions, getting lost by turning left instead of right or was it right instead of left? She cursed under her breath for not looking around for clues when she had the chance.
“I need you uncle, I cannot fight them alone”
“You know I would support you if war occurred Rhaenyra”
The voices that reached her ears made her come to a halt, her back found the cold wall to rest so she can listen to her husbands conversation with the princess, she had put on such a brave fight to forget what was said about their affair before (y/n) came to his life, excusing it as a spur of a moment and feelings long forgotten, now there she was hiding in the dark to catch them whispering.
“I do not need you as a soldier Daemon, i want us to bind our blood”
“Rhaenyra”
“Do you love her?”
Tears welled up in (y/n)s eyes, this could not be. He brought to his homeland just to embarrass her? To parade his children and leave (y/n) in the dust? Did she marry such a cruel man? She felt like her heart was going to come out her throat at the sound of those words.
“More than life itself”
“So my love for you meant nothing?”
“You were a child Rhaenyra, we both made mistakes”
“You did not love me?”
“Of course I did”
“My love?”
(Y/n) came out of her hiding spot, she wasn’t going to let the princess sway her husbands words, Daemon had declared his love and the princess did not want to give up, she was toying with (y/n)s wedlock like the life of her and her children including the pain this will cause meant nothing.
Daemon focused on his wife, smiling at the sight of her, Rhaenyra turned to face her as well, Daemon could see that (y/n) heard everything, he identified the fire of fury in her eyes, she appeared with reason.
“Where are the children my dear?”
“Alyssa is playing with Aemond, I will go to collect them now but I have seem to get lost within the castle”
“I shall escort you then, excuse me princess Rhaenyra”
Daemon took (y/n)s hand in his as they left Rhaenyra in shambles, he left her for (y/n), his morals did not buckle at the slightest, not even for Rhaenyra.
As they turned the corner (y/n) took off her polite mask, her hand gripped on to his as she held him back from walking even further, Daemon felt his heart skip a beat at the fact that (y/n) was clearly upset. He did not prepare her correctly for this visit, he should have known that the greens would try to tear them apart.
“A wife? An affair? With your own niece at that”
“All before I met you my love”
“That’s not my point, I looked like a fool in front of everyone. Here I am, your wife that did knew nothing of these acts of yours, we are a union and we appeared weak against the hawks eye”
Daemon had guessed she would be frustrated about the acts, he couldn’t be more wrong. (Y/n) had heard of tales about her husband, his thirst over women, she only cared about how she appeared like their union was fickle, that they were secrets between them.
Daemon let out a breath before he took (y/n) for a hug, she did not respond immediately but gave in to wrapping her arms around him after a moment.
“I apologise my love, I will fix it”
“You better or you will have to start looking for a third wife”
Haste heavy steps pulled them apart from one another, curiosity taking over them as they waited for the person to appear. A knight stood before them, clearly stressed, (y/n)s heart clenched tight.
“The kids”
“Your children are alright however you must follow me”
The couple ran to wherever the knight guided them, (y/n) was the first to burst in the room, Alyssa stood next to her friend Aemond who was getting stitched up in the eye. (Y/n) skipped over to her and instantly started looking for wounds, Daemon took in the room as everyone gathered, Baela and Rhaena crying in their grandmothers arms and Lucerys had a nose bleed as he was also crying.
“I am unharmed mother”
“What happened? I told you to be careful with Aemond”
“It wasn’t my fault, Aemond claimed a dragon so we went for a flight when we got ambushed by the others that claimed Vhagar was meant for Rhaena and I… mother I swear I tried to defend Aemond, it was four against two”
“It’s alright my dear, you did your best”
Alyssa spoke honestly, Jacaerys had restrained her when the others attacked Aemond, everything happened so fast she did not have time to process what to do, she did everything she could to defend Aemond, now he had lost his eye.
(Y/n) hugged her daughter tightly, thanking the Gods for sparing her daughter from harm. Everyone was occupied with blaming one another to notice (y/n) wince from pain, her labour had started, she had been through this multiple times she had knowledge of the pains starting early, it was not the time to focus on that as of yet.
“It was my sons that were attacked and forced to defend themselves, vile accusations were spoke from prince Aemond”
“No he did not”
“Alyssa”
“No mother they attacked him”
“He held a rock”
“After you started beating him and then you took a knife out you meant to kill him”
Alyssa was furious, she had seen everything and was appalled by such hostile behaviour especially within family members. Alyssa had grown into an environment that love and respect was shown to everyone, to be met with such hatred was a new found grown for the young girl, Daemon smirked at her daughter fighting against princess Rhaenyra and cutting her off before she could finish, Alyssa had a backbone stronger than any child her age.
“My king this is the highest of treachery and since the girl wants to take prince Aemonds side I ask both of them to be questioned for their treason”
“my child nor any will be questioned like they are criminals, I would have hoped for a woman of such high rank to have some respect for a child that has been permanently scarred from your own kin”
“Are you accusing me of something lady (y/n)?”
“I am defending what’s right which is what my daughter did as well, you are protecting your own and so will I”
“Enough!”
The king intervened. Daemon tried to bring (y/n) back from her anger by placing a hand on her shoulder, truly he did not want to do it still he worried over how heavily pregnant wife, she should not feel any type of uneasiness at such delicate state.
He was certain (y/n) could stand her ground and defend their family better than anyone, a side of him relished it when (y/n) pushed back at others and protected their children, her fire and quick tongue was his favourite things about her.
“Lady (y/n) is right, princess Alyssa has done nothing wrong”
“She stood against the heir”
“She defended her friend, titles don’t mean shit to our family pri- ow”
She could not hold back any longer, she felt liquid ran against her leg as the pain similar to knife cutting her belly made her lose her cool. Daemon was quick on his feet as (y/n) put her hands on her knees to hold herself up against the pain, daemon wrapped his hands around his wife to help her up, worry written all over his face.
“What is it my love?”
“My labours started”
“Maester-“
“No maesters, take me to my room now”
She interrupted the queen, everyone stood still not knowing what to do next. Alyssa stood next to her mother so she can rub her belly to soothe the pain, she had been present at the birth of her siblings for as long as she remembered, it was almost muscle memory now.
“Lady (y/n) I promise you i am very experienced with delivering babes for the royal-”
“Oh Fuck off will you? I said no fucking maesters, Daemon please hurry or I will push this babe out for your entire family to see”
“As you wish my love”
In one swift motion Daemon swooped (y/n) from her feet to rush her to the privacy of their own room, Alyssa followed quickly with queen Alicent, the Maester and princess Rhaenyra hot on their trail, as they were all amazed by (y/n)s resilience they wanted to witness the woman giving birth on her own, as (y/n) breathed heavy she leaned her head on her husbands shoulder.
“This is going to be a quick one”
(Y/n) could time her pains growing stronger at such short period of time, her babe was rushing to come out to the point (y/n) did not think she would make it to her room.
Fortunately she was wrong, as Daemon kicked the door open to quickly lay (y/n) in the bed Alyssa sat behind her mother to help her sit up while the mothers back laid against her daughters chest. Alyssa admired her mothers strength more than anything, she viewed (y/n) as the strongest person alive and loved that she was allowed to be included to the birth of her siblings, secretly scheming to follow the tradition of a private birth.
“Everyone out”
“The maester should stay in case of any assistance-“
“Daemon I can feel the head”
(Y/n) screamed from the pain, roaring her babe out that did not wait for anyone or anything. The family quickly forgot the presence of outsiders as they supported (y/n) for her birth, (y/n) held her daughter with one hand as Daemon lifted his wives dress to help her with any way he can.
“Almost there (y/n), give it one strong push and you will hold our babe in your arms”
He encouraged her while Alyssa stroked her mothers hair with her free hand. The trio that stood a few meters away were like statues, the queen was deeply moved by the love that lingered in the room and Alicent clenched the charm of the seven that hang from her neck, her children’s birth so strongly connected with the people in the room, the family had a bond that was rare in this world.
Soon enough cries of the babe echoed in the room as everyone in unison let out a breath of relief, (y/n)s lips curved to a triumph smiled as she saw her babe for the first time, Alyssa kissed her mothers forehead as encouragement for a job well done, amazed at the view of another sibling brought to life.
“Praise the mother”
Alicent spoke as she was the first to approach (y/n) who stretched her arms to hold the baby, tears appeared on everyone’s cheeks except the maesters and the only thing you could hear was the cries of a newborn babe, what a magical sound that was to a mothers ears.
“A princess is born to driftmark, Maester let everyone know (y/n) delivered her babe”
Rhaenyra instructed, she internally admitted defeat since there was nothing she could do anymore, watching Daemon so involved in the birth and cry tears of joy as he held the bloody babe in his arms was enough proof of there romance having no chance of reconciliation. Daemon sat next to (y/n)s bed as he observed his wife holding their babe in her arms and their eldest holding her mother in her arms with her eyes full of love.
“Well done my moon, what a gift you blessed me with, another beautiful and heathy daughter”
“Welcome to our family Maegora”
(Y/n) whispered as she held her baby, Alyssa gasped at the choice of the name, Alyssa had suggested it a while back and her father had laughed at the choice and the fear it would install to everyone’s hearts.
Daemon was actually fond of the name, still he had a habit of teasing his children so he just leaned to kiss (y/n)s lips, she was so beautiful after she delivered their children, a glow unlike any other as the light of candles was the only source of light, his devotion to her was as deep as any religious person, his heart only beat because hers did.
“You are radiating my love”
Requests are open!
@slutmeoutsworld @ayamenimthiriel @the-phantom-of-arda @babystudentroadthing @pearlstiare @bxdbxtxh15 @lazypinkpig
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yellow-berrys · 1 year
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dote on me | sirius black x fem!reader
summary: you are completely oblivious to the way sirius black dotes on you, and think that the way you're infatuated with him is completely one-sided. but he begs to differ.
warnings: mentions of a bad childhood, mentions of smoking, drinking and illicit substances
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Sirius Black makes you nervous and he darn well knows that. He uses those consuming grey eyes of his, filled with enigmatic interest, to his advantage. He only needs to focus them on you for a considerate amount of time for you to start burning up like a wildfire. And his nose, it’s pointed and perfect, leaving you wondering just how unfair life can be. His cheekbones are high and structured, light hitting them at glorious angles. His lips are devoid of much red. They’re this cool plum colour that looks like it’s lip gloss all the time but really isn’t. His skin is framed by smooth black hair, and the layers in his haircut are so pretty it prompted every other guy in his life to get the same one. It drives you mad that he was born with this face and that hair. It’s simply unjustified. 
It would be fine if he was just a pretty face. But it’s not. It’s simply unacceptable just how nice he is. Sometimes you wish he isn’t a gentleman and that all the rumours about him being a player with a million tattoos were true, because you’re envious and adoring of him. 
And like anyone, he definitely has a vice. People think it’s cigarettes for him but he definitely does not smoke. And he doesn’t drink. At parties, he’s cradling a cautiously poured glass of lemonade instead. And he definitely doesn’t do drugs, because he hangs around Remus Lupin and there’s no way he would be allowed to if he did. Remus is a little sickly sometimes, and his body is very sensitive. 
He likes to say his vice is chasing things he’ll never have. Like his childhood. He thinks he has regained that. Now, maybe it’s some sort of romance. All his life he’s been mooned over. People love him, mostly because he’s beautiful, and they offer him burning hot love all the time. People think he’s one for angsty, fiery passion. But Sirius thinks that fires never last, they’re too easy to disturb and taint everything with the unpleasant smell of smoke. James once did one of his stupid Women’s Weekly quizzes on him, the one with the “Tell me your favourite colour, and it’ll tell you what other people think of you, tell me your favourite animal…” questions. Sirius had laughed, thrown his head back and answered in a complete stupor. “Black, maroon if black isn’t an answer, dog…” James had asked him what his favourite body of water was and Sirius had said “A lake.”
He had spent summers of his broken youth dipping his toes into the pretty lake by his family’s home in France, escaping from the whirlwind world inside the walls of Walburga and Orion’s chateau. It didn’t make him cry more when he cried, because it would welcome the tears into the gently flowing water. 
James had smiled, “Why?”
Sirius had told him, “It’s gentle, relaxing, peaceful. The one in France was so enveloping and soft. I felt safe there.”
“Chateau?”
“Yep. I used to go out there as a little boy. It was so quiet out there and it felt like heaven, so fluid and open.”
“Hm,” James had studied the words underneath, squinting his eyes, “Ooh, that’s how you feel about love. Never knew you were the romantic type, Pads.”
He had laughed. 
James had asked you too. You had giggled, “Did you steal Lily’s Women’s Weekly again?”
He grumbled, “Not again.”
“I like ponds with little koi fish swimming in them.”
“Why?”
“It’s calm in a joyful way. It’s safe and there’s always rays of golden sun and it feels so delightful and promising. Lucky too, I guess. Oh! And it’s so pretty by a koi fish pond.”
James had grinned and left promptly. 
Sirius thought it was strange when he had first met you. He hadn’t ever had these feelings before, and it took years for him to shove them aside and focus on his studies, friends and mischief-making. But you were affiliated with Marlene, you were always around in some way. You and him became friends and Sirius felt those feelings resurface again. 
He groans into his hands as he runs it across his face. 
“Why?!” he asks Lily, who is watching amusedly. 
“I’m sure you can’t help it,” she says primly, “But what if you could help it?”
He looks at her inquisitively. 
“What if you acted on these feelings? It isn’t half-bad of an idea. You’re grown up, Sirius, and if you still like her that means it’s real.”
“She doesn’t like me.”
“You don’t know that.” 
“What if bad things happen?”
“What’s the worst that could?”
“Death.”
“You’re already halfway there,” she rolls her eyes, “Give it a shot, maybe love will make you less sad.”
“I’m not sad!”
“Whatever, start loving, Sirius.”
She picks up her Women’s Weekly magazine and starts reading. “Ooh, there’s this quiz-”
Sirius groans. 
“Hey darling,” Sirius strides into your apartment. Good start, he thinks. 
You’re sprawled on the couch, grinning as you FaceTime Marlene and Dorcas. When you see him, you look up, surprised. 
“Marlene’s in Vegas,” you say, “Didn’t she tell you?”
Marlene did tell Sirius, and even offered that he come with her and Dorcas.
You flip the camera to Sirius, and even in blurry, low quality, Facetime video he’s still very handsome. 
Marlene screams, “What is that monster doing in my apartment?”
You grin, “Marls, he was looking for you.”
“Actually,” Sirius tilts his head, and if you weren’t so thick you might see the smitten look in his eyes, “I’m here for you.” 
You frown, “For taxes? It’s only the start of the month. Besides, the IRS will never tail you, you’re too rich for that.”
“Can’t I spend time with you, pretty girl?”
It’s flattering, but it seems too abrupt to be genuine. You brush it off with a laugh.
“Get a load of you,” you roll your eyes, “What do you need?”
“I need you,” he attempts and the confession, although seeming flirtatious and joking, brings a smile to your face. 
Marlene chortles, “Guys- I-I-I-I’m…cutt-ing…ou-ou-ou-t.” She fakes it and it’s obvious, but the FaceTime ends and Sirius sits opposite you now. He’s pretty even at seven in the evening and it makes you very nervous. 
You stand up, uneased, and make towards your bedroom. 
“Where are you going?”
“Oh,” you gesture to an old pile of clothes, “Marlene cleaned her wardrobe out before she left, so I decided to follow suit so then we can donate them.”
“Why’re you leaving me?” he pouts. 
“You want to…stay?” 
You’re so puzzled and your heart is beating far too fast for your liking. It goes pitter patter like the rain outside. It’s exhausting. The feeling might be addictive, like a good old fashioned crush, but it’s always playing with you. It feels avaricious to love someone out of your league, worth more than you have ever been.
His sudden showering of affections and doting on you, you think, is because he’s lonely. He doesn’t live with James anymore. You empathise with him, but only because you think you’ll know what that feels like in a month when Dorcas and Marlene move in together. But it really isn’t. Sirius actually thinks that you deserve all the heavy-handed loving in the world, and he always has. His apprehension towards him being the person to do the loving is slowly fading away as he sees the shy smile on your face. 
“If you’ll have me.”
And you turn your head around so he doesn’t see you blush, “Okay, I’ve been meaning to get a second opinion. Whenever I do this I do it with Marlene.” 
You try things on by the mirror in your bedroom, instructing Sirius to look away when needed. He isn’t much of a help at all, because he thinks you look good in everything. Which is just certainly not true. 
On a whim, he suggests that because he isn’t aiding you successfully, you should help him on his own closet. In the end, you wind up in his apartment. 
Sirius has never boasted about what he has at all, mainly because he isn’t proud of it. By what unethical means his trust fund has come from, he doesn’t even want to know, but he’s grateful for it. You’ve only ever seen his living room, kitchen and his small powder room, and they’re lavish and capacious to no ends. Everything subtly screams wealth and luxury. His bedroom is no different. A large bed sits in the middle, framed by expensive paintings. There’s a well made ebony table in the corner, spotless and tidy. The two armchairs in the room are, whilst clearly faux-leather, intricate and of the sort of taste cultivated only by time. A copy of the original Call of the Wild sits on a table. A bookshelf is on one side of the room, grey, stretching from the floor to ceiling. You run your fingers along the spines of the book. They’re all special editions. A simple chandelier (what an oxymoron) dangles in the middle of the room, and you find the ceiling is gilded with plaster and gold. Pictures of friends and family adorn the white walls. 
His walk in closet is humongous. You gasp as he opens the door. It’s double the size of your living room. The clothes are organised by colour, style and season and there’s a considerable lack of colour. In the middle sits an accessory table, with dozens of gold watches and silver necklaces. Delicate rings and bracelets all are displayed. A glass cabinet with bottles of cologne and perfume stands next to it. The only ones you can recognise is something that resembles the Ralph Lauren logo and Dior, and then again it isn’t even the one Johnny Depp uses.
He smiles sheepishly, ashamed that he has such nice things, “I did use my own money on this. Euphemia helped me fix it up.”
“It’s beautiful, Sirius,” you’re almost afraid to touch anything. You don’t think you belong in such a gorgeous world. You don’t think you deserve it. 
Sirius beams at you, “Guess there’s not a difference between it and you, then.”
Your face warms. Sirius is already taking clothes off the racks, whilst you stand awkwardly. He’s chatting, talking about where the clothes came from and who gave them to him and why he likes it so much. Your shoulders relax and you look at him like he’s the only thing that matters. So far he’s through all the things he deems necessary for him to live. 
“And this jumper,” he holds up a pristine Ecru crewneck, offering it to you, “Is from when I went to visit Machu Picchu with James. When we left, one of the ladies we had been staying with gave us both a handmade jumper.”
You hold the fabric delicately in your hands. 
“It’s alright. It’s just clothes, darling, you can do whatever you like with them.”
He’s so nice it hurts and you grin at him endearingly, “Thanks, Sirius.”
An adoring smile finds its way onto his face as he turns to pick up the next item. You put the sweater in the “KEEP” pile. 
“How did this get here?” he laughs as he pulls out a bright yellow crewneck, with a little emblem etched on the side. Immediately he tugs it on, grinning as he surveys the bright colour in the mirror. 
You’re blushing away because the colour suits him so well and makes him look way softer than he usually does.
He sneaks a glance at you in the mirror, and when he sees your lack of eye contact with him he frowns. 
“Are you okay?” he asks you. 
“Yeah. Yellow looks really nice on you, Sirius.”
“Does it?”
“Mhm. I don’t know, it makes you look…cuddly?”
He doesn’t smirk like you expect him to, but swivels around and smiles at you again. He knows he looks like he loves you. He doesn’t mind. You’re just sitting there, confused at why he’s doing this. It’s weird and sudden and it’s definitely something he would do. 
Maybe this is his new favourite jumper. 
He throws it in the keep pile. You tut disapprovingly and rearrange it gently. Seeing a t-shirt, he takes his own shirt off, letting it fall to the floor. You cover your eyes, not wanting to intrude on his privacy. 
Sirius is midway through putting the shirt on when he laughs. “It’s okay, princess, I didn’t ask you to look away. I don’t mind. Unless you do, then I’ll change over there.”
You peek your eyes at him, and Sirius hopes that he’s not imagining your pupils blown slightly. 
And you didn’t think he could get more perfect, but he is. His muscles are toned and defined, and slightly strained as he slides his shirt on. Gosh, he makes you feel inadequate. He can’t know you want him, so you grin as if you’re unaffected. 
“That’s cute,” you nod. 
And the process repeats. Sometimes he takes off his pants too, leaving him to just his boxers that cling onto him in an ungodly way. 
“Are you done?” you ask, eyes covered tightly by your hand. 
“Yeah.”
Sirius is dressed in a suit, the tenth one tonight, “Do we like this one, or the grey one?”
“I like the way this one fits, but I like the grey colour more. But I think the dull dove blue one was the best because it brings out your eyes.”
Sirius makes a mental note to get the grey one altered. He chucks away some old sleeping tees, and a bunch of band hoodies he doesn’t wear anymore. He also gets rid of one of his expensive sweaters with a cable knit and a button up shirt, a bunch of sweatpants and this hideous sweater vest that his Aunt Thelma gifted him for his 17th birthday. 
He thinks maybe you might like to wear some of the things he has in his wardrobe–Euphemia picks them out with him and she represents a small portion of women. He lugs the bag of clothes to his car, and when he’s back, he sees you cross-legged on an armchair, typing on your phone. 
“Sweetheart, what do I owe you?” he asks. 
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him, “For what?” 
You put your phone down on the side table. 
“For helping me?”
“Nothing, Sirius, nothing at all. It’s my pleasure, really.”
“Do you want to take some of my clothes? I have more than enough.”
You look inquisitively at him, “You don’t mind?”
“‘Course not.”
You go home that night with two of his fancy jumpers, he insists, and one big button up shirt, and a bunch of other stuff he is adamant you should take too. You call Lily. Her voice comes out muffled on the other end. 
“Hey Lily!
“Mhm, I’m well, how are you?
“He’s not that bad, I’m sure. You do know he took your Women’s Weekly– 
“I’ve already done that quiz. 
“Right, well, I don’t think Sirius is fine, in his own right.
“No! As in the sad happy fine, not the cute handsome fine.
“Well- no- I- I don’t think he’s not fine- I mean - Okay whatever. Is he alright? He keeps on acting weird.
A long pause. 
“You know something, don’t you, Red? 
“It’s kind of strange. I mean, he offered for me to take one of his- I don’t know, the Ermenegildo Ze-
“Yes, that! One of those jumpers. 
“Are you sure? That’s what he is normally? Isn’t he usually bad-boy cool guy? Not dorky weird compliment giver? 
“Alright, fine. 
“Bye, love you!”
You survey the pile of clothes for any trace of a prank. Nothing. You take out one and inspect it suspiciously. Then, your intrusive thoughts get the better of you and you sniff the material carefully. It smells really nice. You chuck them in the wash just in case Sirius has popped one of his silly prank gadgets into the pockets or beneath the collar. 
The next time you see him, Lily has called you to tell you she and James are going to Vegas to join Marlene and Dorcas. They’re celebrating a championship. She invites you, but you decline, not liking the idea of tailing behind the two couples and intruding on the romantic atmosphere. Sirius is all alone, and Lily tells you to ‘please go and check up on him’.
The apartment seems okay. It’s spotless like it always is, smelling of air freshener and Sirius’ cologne. It doesn’t look like Sirius is going through something rough at all. Sirius might not even be home, so you’re about to leave when you hear music coming from a secluded area of the apartment. You sneak into the corridor and the door is ajar. A beautiful black grand piano stands, Sirius sitting at it, playing the finest tune you’ve ever heard. The sounds reverberate gently through the room, and it’s divine. It’s joyful and skips on merrily. His eyes are closed and his lips are turned up. It makes you think that maybe he’s thinking of someone. 
He stirs a little at the noise and you pull back. He gets up from his chair and peeks his head around the door. You’re wearing his jumper over some sweatpants. It’s so pretty on you, falling oversized. 
He laughs, which brings heat to your cheeks, “Do you want to come in?”
“You’ll let me?” you gasp, “But you don’t even let Dorcas come in, and she’s a cello-ist.”
“You’re special,” he winks and you blush. You must look like a motley of colours- florid and pink. But you don’t mind, he makes everyone nervous and you’re not special, which puts you at ease.
You perch on the cushy chair as he plays a lilting song. You hum, approving, “What’s the song called?”
“Love,” he says and you agree. The song plays like what love feels like. 
It’s so soft, and warm. Combined with Sirius’ lavender and honey cologne, it makes you drowsy. He notices your eyes are barely open, and instead of ending the song, continues to play the same melody over a lighter bass. When your breathing becomes steady, he quietly rises from the piano and scoops you up, knowing it can’t be comfortable to sleep in a chair. He carries you to his own room, where he tucks you into his bed. You’re murmuring unintelligible things. He leaves and continues playing, before Lily calls and he knows he should be in bed, because it’s morning in Las Vegas. Thus, he shuts his piano and drapes a soft velvet across it. He falls onto the couch and listening to Lily’s calming method to waking up, he falls asleep. 
In the morning, you’re in a vaguely familiar room. The sheets are silk and the ceiling is fancier than an art gallery’s. You yawn, stretching. The clock next to you detects the motion and flashes a dim white. Of course it’s an analogue clock, reading 5:00 am. You remember shutting your eyes slowly in the piano room, the news had been playing on the TV earlier. So you had fallen asleep at seven. 10 hours, more than enough. You quickly get up and make the bed. After using his fancy skincare products and brushing your teeth with a spare toothbrush you find packaged up, you hear soft snores coming from the living room. Sirius is there, phone by his side. 
You pout at how much of a gentleman he is, retrieving a blanket and carefully placing it on him. Then you prepare a smoothie, with the fourteen-million ingredients he has in his giant fridge, and leave it in there with a note. But Sirius wakes. He’s always been a light sleeper. 
He leans blearily over the couch, “Sweetheart?”
“Good morning!” you chirp. 
“Why do you have to be so gorgeous at five in the morning?” he slurs. You raise your eyebrows. He’s really always very flirty, and you’re used to it not being genuine by now. He sways out of bed and into the bathroom. You hear the running of a faucet, and sit down on a kitchen chair, checking your phone. Lily has blown it up. 
TO: REDHEAD
REDHEAD 7:31 p.m. sooo, how is he??
REDHEAD 7:43 p.m. hellooooo babes????
REDHEAD 8:00 p.m. are u ok ??
REDHEAD 8:05 p.m. ANSWER ANSWER ANSWER
REDHEAD 9:47 p.m. I’m calling sirius
REDHEAD 10:00 p.m. omg YES GO YOU OMG
5:30 a.m. what
5:30 a.m. he was playing the piano lils and i fell asleep 
REDHEAD 5:31 a.m. ok keep telling urself that <3 i mean has he ever let us sit in when we asked???
5:32 a.m. i told u he was acting strange 
You grin as you see some of the videos she has sent you. One is where James and her and celebrating, him beaming like he always does. She looks madly in love with him. You screenshot and send it to your email so you can print it out later. There’s another of Marlene and Dorcas doing the spaghetti thing at a Michelin star restaurant. They look as if they’re having a wonderful time. It makes you realise that you’re craving something like that too, only not in the wild world of Vegas. You already have something like it, but it’s so one-sided and your heart can’t stand it. You wish someone would just, dote on you. And genuinely, because there’s no way Sirius Black means it. 
You express these feelings to Marlene when she’s back, moving boxes and taping things up. 
“I want to love someone, Marls. Who loves me back, so don’t even say Sirius.”
“He doesn’t act like that around everyone else, you know.”
“He does! Besides, what makes me so special, Marlene? He could have anyone.”
She laughs, “Oh goodness have you got a lot to learn.”
Marlene and Dorcas invite you to their housewarming party in their house. They say it’s perfect for a family and they want to start one whilst they’re young. It’s quite a large gathering for a housewarming party, and the inside is buzzing with excitement. You’re talking to some of their colleagues- Alice and her boyfriend Frank on the couch. 
“And we’re planning a trip to Ibiza for next month,” she blinks up at him lovingly and he does the same. It makes you subtly raise your phone as if you’re getting a message and type, before quickly flashing a photo of them whilst they’re gazing into each other’s eyes. 
Sirius spots you grinning away, like you want what Alice and Frank have. He sidles in next to you.
“Hey darling,” he smiles and you smile back, “Hi.”
“Aren’t you going to introduce us?” Alice asks. 
“Oh of course! I thought you would already know him,” you put down your drink, “Alice, this is Sirius. Sirius, Alice. Frank, Sirius. Sirius, Frank. They’re planning a trip to Ibiza and were voted Best Couple in high school.” 
They’re both intimidated by Sirius, you can tell, but Sirius smiles, “Nice to meet you Alice and Frank. How long have you been together?”
They cheesily smile at each other, “Seven years and going strong,” Alice flashes her wedding ring. 
Marlene calls you over to the kitchen island, where she is mixing drinks up, “Hey darl!” 
“Sup, Marls.”
“Need a drink?”
“Just pink lemonade,” you hold out your cup. A boy comes around the table, smiling at you. Marlene smirks a little. 
“Y/n, this is CJ. He’s a footballer, and a damn good one.”
You grin, outstretching your hand, “Hi CJ, nice to meet you.”
He shakes it heartily, “Likewise.”
“What team do you play for?”
“Oh, just a local one,” he rubs his neck bashfully, “I’m not that good.” 
CJ, whatever it stands for, is handsome, with bright green eyes and curly brown hair. He’s sweet too and has this shy air around him that’s impossibly good natured. He’s Emmeline’s to-be lover.
“Try me.”
“Liverpool,” he says meekly. 
“Oh, you’re the Cruz Johnson! How’s football for a living?”
“It’s great, actually,” he chuckles, dipping his head to whisper secretly into your ear, “Though this beer is actually some recovery drink, so could be better.”
You laugh. 
He grins as he takes a sip and makes a funny face, “So what do you do?”
You tell him and he nods, “Impressive indeed. How’d you meet Marls here?”
“She and I were classmates! I wore her down eventually, she used to hate friendship.”
“Oh tell me about it. I met her at the football club, where she was playing for the ladies’ team. And the first time the coach tried to congratulate her she just rolled her eyes. He was filthy.”
“Oh?” your eyes are sparkling with mischief. 
“When he dislocated his cheekbone a few weeks later, she told him she could ski on them if she tried. Anyway.”
You purse your lips in amusement, “Am I allowed to laugh at that?”
“He looked like this,” Cruz makes a face and you giggle. 
Sirius is watching this all with a very sour look on his face, feeling very jealous. 
Cruz takes another sip of his drink, “So, who are you here with?”
You’re confused, “No one? I mean, unless you count Marlene, but she’s with Dorcas. And my friend Emmeline too.”
At the mention of Emmeline’s name, his eyes light up, “About her…”
“She’s single and she does like green eyes,” you pull him near the wily, tall Emmeline, who blushes shyly as she sees Cruz, “Besides, I think she has a thing for you. Ever since, you know, you crashed into her and spilled your coffee on her favourite shirt,” you joke. 
He blushes, “Gosh, you still remember that? Will you send me the name of the shirt so I can buy her five more? I know I already replaced hers but I still feel so bad.”
“Awh. That’s very nice of you, Cruz. Here,” you hand him your phone, “What’s your number?”
Sirius is watching you, hands tense around his cup. He decides to go up to you. 
“Hey darling,” he says lowly into your ear, making you jump and your cheeks heat up.
“Sirius!” you berate. Cruz is watching with a knowing smile as he hands your phone back. You quickly text him, “Okay, sent it.”
The two guys are sizing each other up. You can sense their hostility.
“Now, boys, be friendly. Cruz, do not worry, Sirius is only friends with Emmeline, and Sirius, don’t worry, Cruz won’t try to pick up Regulus.”
You feel both of them relax. Cruz grins at Sirius, “Nice to finally meet you, man.”
“You too!”
“And don’t worry, I don’t have feelings for her either.”
You’re silently eavesdropping on the conversation whilst texting Emmeline. You sneak a look at Sirius, who has an unnatural pink on his porcelain skin. 
“C’mon green-eyes, aren’t I obvious about it?”
Cruz agrees, “Too much so.”
“Anyway, I’ll let you get to Emmeline, Cruz.”
He stumbles, grins at you and waves at the same time, “Thanks, mate.” 
“No problems.”
You watch as he goes and makes a fool of himself in front of Emmeline, who likes it. You turn to Sirius, eyes still watching them. You’re still painstakingly lonely. Tonight you think you’ve third-wheeled at least three couples, and set up two. Even though Sirius is there, he’s just a constant reminder of what you can’t have. 
Sirius can see it in your eyes. He doesn’t know how much more he needs to do. Lily wants to know though. 
“Soooo, lovely,” she begins and you narrow your eyes at her. 
“I swear I didn’t take your cookie cutters and destroy them whilst trying to make clay sculptures with Emmeline and Cruz,” you put your hands up. Lily raises her brows and you murmur a quiet, “Oh no.” 
“My cookie cutters that you gave me?!” she yells. 
“It’s fine, I’ll get you new ones.”
She sighs, “Right. Anyway, Sirius Black.”
“Sirius Black,” you say slowly.
“Mhm. Are you ever going to tell him you like him?”
“No, I don’t even like him.” 
“You don’t?” Lily feigns surprise.
“Nope.”
“Is he cute?”
“Yeah.” 
“Is he nice?”
“Yeah.”
“Well?”
“He doesn’t like me like that, Lils,” you scold. 
“Why does he call you ‘darling’ then? He has to.”
“If he did, that would be embarrassing for him. Gosh knows he’s too good for me. If he likes me, I would question why because he could probably do better,” you shrug, “I’m confident, but not completely blind.” 
“Okay. So if he liked you, you would want to date him?”
You reply meekly, “Yeah.”
“I think you should tell him, though,” Lily sighs, “Better you than anyone else doing it.”
You ponder for a moment, “True,” you sigh, “He’ll be nice about it.”
Lily squeals, “I’m planning your wedding!!!” 
You knock on his apartment door, reconsidering for the last time whether you want to do it or not. 
Sirius opens the door, looking confused and handsome, eyes bluer than usual. 
“Hi,” you breathe. 
“Gorgeous, to what do I owe this sudden visit?”
“I just wanted to see you.”
“Really?” his eyes are glistening. 
“Yeah.” 
“Come in then. Mind the mess, taxes.”
You hum, “Need help?”
“Actually, yeah. Should I write off…”
You sit down, distracted by the papers flying everywhere, taking a pen and starting to write. Your mission is almost forgotten after you finish helping him with his taxes, smiling satisfiedly at the hefty return he receives. 
“Good,” you grin, admiring your work, “I’d say this is a successful tax file.” He swipes his tongue over his teeth, so attractively and seals the envelope, setting it down on his stack of things he needs to post. 
“Package to Marlene and Dorcas, papers to…” he rambles, pacing out his thoughts, “Oh, and my portfolio. Can you check if they’re alright to send in?”
“Portfolio?” 
“Oh,” he turns red, rubbing the back of his neck bashfully, “Someone asked me to model for them?”
“When?” you gasp. He hands you the envelope, and you carefully pry out some photos. 
“A week ago,” he murmurs, “Can you check these aren’t too…much?”
They’re glossy between your fingers and smooth, candid shots, some staged and every single one of them belongs on the cover of Vogue. It’s strange, the pictures of Sirius should be in a magazine, famed and lovely, but he’s right here. Nervously fidgeting around. He’s so tangible right now. You reach out to skim your fingers over the photos, then stretch them out to touch the skin near his lips. He’s taken aback but leans into your touch.
“I think they’re perfect,” you fold the envelope over, handing it back to him. 
He’s still looking incredibly ashamed of himself.
“Why do you look so sheepish?” you laugh, “Stop that! It’s alright.” You surge to hug him, “It’s amazing, Sirius.”
Sirius hides his face in your neck, “I feel like a show-off,” he mumbles and you laugh. 
“Sirius, it’s honestly alright. You’re not, far from it actually. It’s okay to have nice things.”
“I’m sorry. I’m being a wimp.”
“It’s fine, I understand. These feelings are completely normal, but that doesn’t mean they’re true. If I had a staggering net worth of a few hundred million and never told you, would you think I’m a show-off?”
He shook his head. 
“Exactly,” you smile at him, “Now do you want to go to the post office? It closes in half an hour.”
He nods, “‘Kay.”
The post office man greets him with some flirting, and he sets down his stack of parcels, ignoring him to go sign some of them. 
He looks over to you, “You’re his…” he studies your face, “friend?”
It makes you feel small and judged. You chew nervously on your lip, unconsciously stepping towards Sirius. You know you couldn’t possibly pass off as his girlfriend, but it’s an ugly reminder you don’t need. Sirius smiles politely, “These three are in a letter card, but can we get them to be delivered…”
After he pays, you try not to make it seem like you’re in a rush to get out. He notices, of course he does. “You okay?”
“Yeah.”
“What did he say to you?”
You stay quiet and Sirius does too. He drives to his apartment and sits down on his couch. You follow. He’s silent. 
“He said something about us,” you break the fragile silence, “About me.”
“What?” 
“Well he looked at me and then asked if I was your friend after giving me a once-over.”
Sirius shrugs, “Aren’t you?”  
Your heart falls, “Well–. The thing is–, look, I’ve been meaning to tell you this, but I kind of– scratch that, I have this massive crush on you and probably more,” you wince, “Please be nice about this.”
He looks positively shocked. You can’t tell if it’s good shock or bad shock. 
You grimace, “And please can we stay friends?”
“You think I’m rejecting you?” he almost scoffs, lifting you easily into his lap. He’s so close you could count the colours in his eyes. A charcoal, a light cerulean, a tinge of yellow ochre, “After all my countless advances, the gifts, even inviting you into my piano room whilst I played, I couldn’t, sweetheart,” he says softly. 
“Haven’t you noticed I haven’t ever dated anyone since two years back? That I pretty much have been begging to be noticed by you these past years,” he continues, “All because I want to be yours. Because I couldn’t even think of wanting anyone else. I like you so much.”
“Hey Sirius?”
“Mm?”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“You already did.”
You huff, “Can I kiss you?”
Before you can do anything, he’s grinning as he presses his lips to yours, smiling into the kiss. When you break apart, he's still grinning. He thinks he will be for the rest of his life.
“Whoa,” you say as you grin at him. 
He hugs you tightly, “Please never say we should be friends again.”
You nod, “Never.” 
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Text
Malleus with a fat/chubby/plus-size MC
Warnings: none other than that this is not proofread! this is just complete fluff because I'm utterly in love with this dragon fae. I feel like I could totally write a part two to this if anyone wants it.
This man is irrefutably in awe of everything you do. Malleus would be a bit surprised if you ever told him you were insecure about a feature of yours because while he knows everyone has their insecurities (and he's well acquainted with his own for sure), he has always thought of you as absolutely breath taking.
Malleus definitely has a staring problem. Sneaking glances at you when you're oblivious to the tender eyes of love directed solely your way. You're so beautiful in all that you are.
When you're showing him your outfits, this man is your ultimate hype man. If you're going out with your other friends or running around NRC doing work for Crowley, Malleus always makes sure that he gets to see you because he never wants to miss out on seeing you. He always asks to see your outfits, especially when you dress up, and all he does is shower you in compliments
That color looks nothing short of heavenly on you, MC. When you prefer to wear super baggy clothing, he is equally as obsessed and in awe.
Your soft jawline? It's like something out of a classical painting; in fact, he wants to commission thousands of paintings of you. The graceful flow of your arms, that are nothing short of loving when you embrace him. your whole person that is joy incarnate. Days spent with you - loving you, showering you in praise, to feel this ardor and to have it returned by you - is bliss to Malleus.
It doesn't matter how being fat looks for you - he's in love with you in every way. From the tips of your fingers, to your hands and your wrists, the soft roundness of your shoulders, the stretch marks - Mr. I'm-in-love-with-mc-and-wish-to-never-be-parted-from-them-Malleus can go on and on about everything about you.
He likes to hold your hand and kiss your knuckles. Sometimes, he'll lift your hands up to cup his face and looks at you with a level of reverence that would frankly put Sebek into a coma. Malleus is also a fan of helping you put on/remove shoes; he likes to pepper kisses to your ankles and lift his head to lay in your lap. Oh? Are you shying away, MC? Does his boundless devotion fluster you? Good, you should know he's crazy over you
If you have boobs - the man is first of all, beyond respectful. He's a true gentleman and an absolute sweetheart. Secondly, he adores the stretch marks you may have around them. They look so soft and beyond perfect - the epitome of beauty really
Hip dips? Malleus like trailing a hand over them and up your waist. He believes Aphrodite couldn't hold a candle to you, that yours is the beauty people write poems about.
The elegant folds of your back, the soft plush of your thighs, the gentle strength your stature exudes - he literally can't get enough of you. And he lets you know that, and that's not just when you're feeling down about yourself.
Seeing you light up with confidence and take up space without any shame is so beautiful to him. He thinks you deserve to be happy more than anything, to believe in your own beauty and the irreplaceable place you have in the lives of everyone you allow into your space. There will never be another you, and Malleus always wants to be around you. He won't let you or anyone else downplay the space you have in his life in any capacity.
The amount of joy he feels just by being in your presence is adorable to see. Every part of him buzzes with love for you.
If you have trouble finding stuff in your size or ever tell him about the experience of being a fat person trying to find cute things in your size, Malleus will literally feel for this issue so much. Anything that has bothered you or made you feel like there isn't a place for you in the world - let alone a place where you can be happy and yourself - is something he takes issue with. So, he helps you out and personally makes a list of inclusive brands to check out with you.
He's there for you. He listens to when you're insecure or when someone says something about you or fat people in general that doesn't sit right with you. Malleus comforts you like a champ - he holds you and wipes your tears away with the sole desire of wanting you to feel how loved you are.
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mylucayathoughts · 6 months
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Little moments that I love in Red White and Royal Blue. PART 7 (cannot stop sorry 🙈)
When Nora says how "Prince Henry is so yummy" Alex doesn't really contest Noras comment on Henrys good looks (read yumminess 😏), he just says how he is not really a good person (which he believed at that time) but that's besides the point. The important thing is that Alex seemed to be in agreement with that view 😏
When Bea snatches Nora away from Alex, you cannot tell me this wasn't intentional because like a moment ago she was telling Henry how she thinks Alex is hot and asked whether Henry met him or not. And next thing she does before Henry is about to meet Alex is take the one person Alex came to the party with away from him and make sure that person sticks with her the whole time. I see what you did there Bea 😏 and she was the most amused when Alex and Henry was having their little fight and the cake fell on them 😆
When Alex sees Henry talking so cheerfully with the cancer patient and stops to stare at them. He couldn't match his idea of Henry with this version. I love how he looks confused yet curious here.
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He was observing a very oblivious Henry intently, and subconsciously he was allowing Henry to change his mind about him.
During the new years party, while dancing, Alex sees Henry sitting alone and comes running towards him and almost hits Henry's face with his 😆 (baby boy was drunk 😏) I love the energy with which he tries to lift Henry's mood up - "it's aaalll in the hips, LOOSEN UP!!", laughs with his entire face, hears his song and screams "OH MY GOD, this is the song of my childhood!!!" and says "you're dancing" and then he grabs Henrys hand and pulls him towards the dance floor. He is adorable here, always trying to keep Henry close or around.
Henry making this face when he says that his brother is completely oblivious about him being gay -
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I noticed it only like a few days ago on my millionth rewatch of the movie and laughed so hard I almost fell off my bed 🤣
When Henry says that he has to belong to himself and he can only belong to someone else momentarily and Alexs first instinct is to hold his hand 🤧🤧 lt was too pure, too kind ❤️ and Henry says "not here" (and you can tell he is devastated that he couldn't let Alex take his hand) and Alex understands the sentiment immediately.
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It's not like Alex didn't know where they were, plus Henry and he were just talking about Henry not being out to anyone but Bea. Alex still wanted to comfort Henry and to him, taking Henry's hand wasn't a romantic gesture, he just wanted to be supportive and make him feel better. But he understood Henry's predicament and played along.
When Alex writes to Henry "I'm out here giving my all for my mother. I cant have smut filling my inbox, corrupting my mind and bulging my pants like this! look buddy, you know I'm incorrigible, so don't incorrige me" and Henry writes "I'll behave" you can tell that Henry is trying to stifle a laugh and that he is so proud that he can make Alex feel that way 🤣 I know that it's supposed to be a written part in the movie but they had Taylor and Nicholas say these out loud and you can hear the emotions in their voices and I absolutely love Nicholas's delivery here.
My dumbass noticed something else a few days ago as well. That Alex practices speaking in front of the mirror before delivering his speeches. My boy really worked so hard to get his Texan votes 🤧
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All the little scenes where Alex is shown to work in his Texas campaign perfectly capture Alex's passion for politics, his dedication to the Texan campaign, his desire to help mom with her election and his wish to do something for people. I love how this part also portrays how mature he and Henrys relationship has become. It was not about just their physical needs anymore, which is still there (obviously 😏) but they act as each others support system. The way Alex tells Henry about his fear "I'll only admit this to you and no one else..." that he is gonna let his mother down, and the way Henry reassures him 🤧 and then Henry says how his ribbon cuttings are so meaningless and how he wished he could do meaningful things like Alex. And even though Henry is not proud of it, Alex still makes sure to watch Henry's appearances. I love how sweet and kind and supportive they are to one another. And the passion with which both Nicholas and Taylor read theirs emails 🤧😭 so good!
At the V&A when they were slow dancing, you can't take your eyes off Taylor and Nicholas's hands 😍 they just keep lovingly caressing each other. It's soo beautiful to watch. They are so gentle and caring in those scenes.. Their eyes are soft, full of love 🤧 This is yet another scene where you can't possibly ask more from Taylor and Nicholas. They really went all in 👏
Their soft little smiles in this scene 😍🥺 Henry looks so relaxed and happy! They make me cry ok 🤧
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Part 1
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Part 6
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mcverse · 11 months
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ꨄ︎ Paring: Rotxo x Adopted! Sully! GN Reader
ꨄ︎ Requested: Yes/No
ꨄ︎ Type: One Shot
ꨄ︎ Word count: 4.8K
ꨄ︎ Warnings: angst, fluff, unrequited love, requited love, mention of you. Not really mentions of reader being female so I changed it to gn. Safe for 17+ to read. Not proof read, possible spelling mistakes.
please keep in mind that all characters in my stories are always 18+
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How can one miss someone who was never theirs to begin with?
Perhaps you played yourself, allowing a delusional desire to take root, hoping against all odds that he could be yours. Lost in a dense fog of denial, you knew deep down that this kind of love was never meant for you—that it wasn't directed your way.
Ever since you and your adoptive family arrived in Awa'atlu for uturu, you have all been in the spotlight, but some receive more attention than others. Sadly, the attention you crave the most is effortlessly bestowed upon your sister. His oceanic eyes gaze at her with the intensity you wish he would reserve for you, overflowing with adoration and admiration. It feels almost criminal to witness someone being worshipped so deeply, while she remains completely oblivious to his love.
How can you ever find the words to tell him that every night, as you lay beneath the sky's embrace, peering through the cracks in the mauri, your thoughts are consumed by him? With each star you count, you offer silent prayers, hoping that a shooting star from the tales of old tawtute will streak across the heavens, allowing you to make a wish, fully aware that it will revolve around him.
He was the sun that illuminated your days when they felt impossibly dim just by a smile sent your way, and you were the moon, forever drawn to his orbit, seeking a place in his world. The farther he seemed, the closer you yearned to be, until the yearning became insatiable. You craved his warmth, his light, wanting nothing more than to bask in his radiance. Your existence revolved around him, and with every passing day, the desire to bridge the gap grew stronger. Closer and closer you wanted to get, until the closeness became enough, until only your love for him was enough.
You're unsure how you came to love him so deeply, and it pains you to part ways even briefly. Eywa herself knows the internal struggle you endure when you watch him fade into the distance, vanishing without another word, with your concealed emotions left unspoken.
He was kind, supportive, and courageous—a formidable warrior among the people, a remarkable friend within your youthful circle, and a well-suited potential partner. You wish you could rid yourself of your feelings for him, much like the way he yearns for your sister, but his qualities are impossible to overlook.
Your heart tightens each time you witness him trailing behind her, wearing the most beautiful and genuine smile, calling out her name in gleeful laughter, "Kiri! Where are you headed?" as he dutifully follows her, unaware of the effect it has on you. He would likely follow her to the ends of the earth, and you’ll understand because you’ll do the same.
You often found yourself lost in a tumultuous sea of thoughts, seeking solace by the ocean's edge, far removed from prying eyes. The weight of your emotions became overwhelming, making it agonizingly difficult to confide in someone, fearing their judgment and the damning label of selfishness.
Yet, can it truly be branded as selfish when it's painfully evident that Rotxo yearns to court her, while she remains oblivious or so it seems? What if she truly knows and deliberately keeps him dangling on a string?
Great Mother, your love for your sister burns with an intensity that knows no bounds, but does she truly grasp the power she holds—the power to choose between two hearts held tenderly within her hands? The weight of that choice is immense, leaving you in a state of anguished uncertainty and bittersweet longing.
Then, whether through a twist of destiny or the compassion of Eywa, Rotxo mustered the courage one day to reveal his feelings to Kiri. To your surprise, she was completely unaware of his intentions, blissfully ignorant of his affection towards her. It seemed her attention was focused on another, a fellow female Na'vi within the village. How Rotxo missed that detail remained a mystery, but he wasn't the only one caught off guard. The news reached your ears when Kiri returned home, her expression filled with solemnity.
At first, you struggle to contain your bubbling excitement. It felt like Rotxo was finally free, and a glimmer of hope sparked within you. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something between you two. However, as Kiri proceeded to explain his reaction, a wave of guilt crashed over you. You realized that you had unwittingly taken his pain and transformed it into your own joy, and the weight of that realization bore down heavily upon your conscience.
That night, sleep escapes you, and you found yourself restlessly shifting in bed, tormented by thoughts of Rotxo. His once charming smile was replaced with a frown in your mind's eye. It unsettled you to the core, knowing that he was burdened with sorrow while you held onto a glimmer of hope.
Reality struck hard—you understood deep down that there was no possibility for you and him. He had just experienced rejection, and pursuing another romantic endeavor would be the least of his concerns. The gravity of this truth kept you awake, lost in contemplation throughout the night. Eventually, you abandon the pursuit of sleep and ventured to the shoreline, where you wandered along the edge of the ocean, sinking your feet into the soft sand as you sought solace in the rhythm of the waves.
Eventually you reach your usual spot, a quiet place for reflection, you freeze in your tracks. Your expectation of finding it deserted is shattered by the sound of gentle sniffles. Someone else seeks refuge there, their emotions overwhelming them too. A bittersweet warmth fills your heart, realizing that this place offers comfort and solace to others who grapple with their own feelings. Though your initial instinct is to respect their privacy and leave, your intention wavers when you hear his voice—his familiar voice that stops you in your tracks.
His voice trembles with vulnerability, as he opens up about his pain and heartache. The rawness in his words sends a surge of emotions coursing through you. You stand there, hidden from view, listening intently as he pours out his feelings. Every word he utters resonates with your own hidden desires, with the longing you've kept locked away.
An uneasy feeling begins to wash over you, as if you are trespassing on his intimate moment. You recognize that these words were never meant for your ears, that he did not willingly choose to confide in you. Caught in this dilemma, you find yourself torn between respecting his boundaries and offering a comforting presence. Yet, you cannot bear to leave him in such a vulnerable state. So, with cautious steps, you retreat to the entrance and clear your throat, hoping to make your presence known.
His glossy eyes shift in your direction, and the sight tugs at your heartstrings. It stirs within you an overwhelming urge to rush to his side, to wrap him in a warm embrace and assure him that everything will be alright. But you hold yourself back, restraining the impulse. Instead, you offer him a gentle smile, your voice soft and tentative as you speak up, "I'm sorry... I don't mean to intrude, but... are you okay, Rotxo?"
His gaze lingers on you, caught off guard by your sudden presence. He takes a moment to collect himself, his voice trembling as he responds, "Not really." He lowers his gaze to the ground, seemingly lost in his thoughts.
Frowning, you move closer, squatting down beside him on the ground. From this vantage point, you peer at him under your lowered lashes, your heart betraying you by racing at the proximity. You curse the timing of these feelings, fully aware that now is not the moment to indulge in personal desires. Your sole focus remains on providing comfort and support.
"Why are you crying?" you ask, although the reason is painfully obvious. You choose not to spell it out, allowing him the space to share what he wishes.
He presses his lips together, taking a slow, steadying breath before he responds, his voice barely above a whisper, his voice barely above a whisper, his body slumped with sadness.
"Kiri didn't tell you?" he murmurs, his words heavy with a mixture of pain and confusion.
Naturally, she did. She was your sister, bonded by a deep connection whether by blood or not. It was evident that the weight of her own struggles had become too much to bear alone, leading her to confide in you, and for that, you were grateful. But now is not the time to reveal that knowledge.
“No,” you furrow your brows, gulping as you consider you answer, “She didn’t. Should she have?”
Your question hangs in the air, masking the truth that you hold. You tread carefully, protecting your sister's trust while trying to offer him the support he seeks. You wait, holding your breath, aware that his answer will shape the course of this vulnerable moment between the two of you.
Finally, he breaks the stillness, his words faltering as he reveals, "I... I like Kiri..." His eyes shift away, avoiding direct contact.
You offer a subtle nod, acknowledging his admission. "I know," you respond softly, holding more understanding than he realizes.
His ears flick up before lying flat against his head, sinking his face into his hands as he groans in exasperation, "So it was obvious to everyone except her?" His eyes welling up with tears once more.
Your willpower to respect his boundaries crumbles in an instant, overridden by your overwhelming urge to provide comfort. Acting on instinct, you step into his personal space and wrap your arms around him, seeking to offer solace and support. You understand that apologies can come later; right now, all that matters is being there for him, as he has been for others in their moments of sadness.
He tenses at the unexpected contact, momentarily pausing in his sniffling. But then he returns the embrace, holding onto you tightly and burying his head in your shoulder. The wetness of his tears dampens your skin, a physical manifestation of the depth of his need for comfort, perhaps more than he even realizes.
"I'm sorry she didn't see you the way you saw her..." you murmur softly, your hand rubbing his back in a soothing motion, akin to a mother comforting her child. It feels fitting, given the sense of family that he most-likely come to associate with you.
"I feel so stupid," he whines, his eyes tightly shut as he shuffles closer, seeking more solace in your warmth. It's as if he has been deprived of it for so long, though you know that cannot be true. His parents were present. His self-blame stems solely from the rejection he has faced. "I... I should have noticed the signs... I should have."
Shaking your head softly, you offer reassurance, "She didn't give any signs. You weren't the only one who didn't know,” you pause to ponder you next words, it’ll be a risky statement given the circumstances but maybe you were selfish if you did, “Maybe if you did, you could have found someone who’d reciprocates your feelings.”
"Nobody would want me after this. It's humiliating," he practically whispers so low you’ll miss it if he wasn’t this close to you. His sniffling has long subsided as he rests his head on your shoulder. His arms loosen their grip, hanging loosely around you, "I wouldn't want me."
Your heart aches at the sight of his self-deprecating words, the pain and insecurity etched on his face. Without a second thought, you gently push him back, your hands resting on his chest, a small act of resistance against his negative thoughts. His swollen, confused eyes meet yours as you lean closer.
Placing a hand on his thigh for comfort, you let your voice carry the weight of your words, "Never say that about yourself," you say firmly, your frown reflecting your deep concern, "Rotxo, you are so much more than this moment of rejection. You deserve love just like anyone else. Don't let this define your worth."
Your fingertips caress his cheeks, radiating warmth and tenderness as they glide along his skin. A softness lingers in your touch, an unspoken reassurance that you offer with every stroke. Despite the tremor that quivers through your own hands, a testament to the emotions swirling within you, you remain steadfast in your mission to uplift his spirits and kindle a flicker of hope within his wounded heart.
Truly, it was right there before him, concealed in plain sight, much like it was with Kiri. You can't help but marvel at the irony of it all, how easily the heart can be blind to what lies just beyond its reach. Yet, a tender fondness washes over you, an understanding of his innocence and his unwitting ignorance of the precious connection that beckoned him.
Perhaps, you think, it's for the best that he remained oblivious for now, as the pain is still fresh and tender.
"Do you really think so?" he asks, his eyes filled with wonder and a glimmer of hope, desperately seeking validation in your response. As you nod and offer a soft smile, his face lights up with a genuine smile, the first of the day. Excitedly, he pulls you into a heartfelt hug, his pure nature shining through. This man is truly a gem.
You find yourself grappling with a myriad of emotions as you reflect on the situation. It perplexes you why he seemed oblivious to the impact he had on your heart. Taking a deep breath to steady your racing thoughts, you decide it's time to bring this poignant exchange to a close.
Clearing your throat, you slowly rise from your seated position, your gaze momentarily avoiding his captivating eyes that shimmer in the gentle moonlight. The silence between you stretches, filled with unspoken words and lingering emotions.
"I think it's best if we both make our way back," you say, your voice carrying a tinge of melancholy and unrequited longing.
He reciprocates with a gentle smile, its genuineness captivating you, even in the midst of this tender farewell. A subtle nod of understanding passes between you, both acknowledging the intricate complexities of the moment.
His voice resonates with heartfelt gratitude, softly punctuating the stillness that envelops you both, "Thank you."
With those words lingering in the air like a whispered promise, you reluctantly part ways, each step carrying the weight of unspoken emotions. The night embraces you, wrapping you in its embrace as you find comfort in the knowledge that you were there for one another, if only for a fleeting moment.
Little did you know, it was far from being the last encounter.
The following morning arrives, and you attempt to steal a few extra moments of slumber, seeking refuge from the complexities of the previous night. However, your peaceful interlude is shattered by the persistent calls of your mother, who reminds you of the responsibilities and obligations that come with being a member of the Metkayina. The demands of productivity override any personal desires, and you resign yourself to the tasks that lie ahead.
You decide to embark on a fishing expedition, a familiar ritual that brings level headedness and nourishment. Equipped with your trusty net, you make your way to one of the favored fishing spots, immersing yourself in the tranquil waters. The cool embrace of the water fails to deter you as you wade deeper, determined to fulfill your task and provide a bountiful catch for your family.
After a while of not catching anything in your chosen fishing spot, you decide to relocate. Fortunately, the change of location proves fruitful, and you're grateful for the decision as you witness a group of male Na'vi engaging in animated conversation, their attention fixated on Rotxo and his fishing prowess.
A sense of amusement washes over you as you realize his popularity. Who would have thought?
Without a second thought, you find yourself wading through the water towards him, unintentionally interrupting the tranquility he sought. "Looks like you've got some admirers," you playfully tease, you playfully tease, coming to a halt a few feet away. He turns to you, confusion evident in his eyes.
"What do you mean, (Name)?" he asks, genuinely puzzled. But his confusion quickly fades as you gesture towards the group of Na'vi, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. He takes a step back, shrugging his shoulders, a slight frown forming on his face. "They've been there all morning. Just gossiping, I suppose."
A surge of annoyance wells up within you, no longer able to tolerate his self-doubt. "Enough of that," you assert, your voice carrying a deep resonance. "Anyone would be lucky to have you... including myself." The words slip out in a mumble, almost lost amidst the sounds of nature. Whether he catches your confession or not, he remains silent, stealing a quick glance in your direction before returning his focus to the task at hand.
A comfortable silence envelops you both, accompanied by the gentle lapping of waves and the occasional splash. Surprisingly, the absence of words doesn't create any awkwardness. It's a stark contrast to the usual giddy and somewhat nauseating feeling you experience in his presence. Perhaps the brief but meaningful connection you shared the previous night has brought a newfound ease and comfort when it comes to being around him.
You feel a gentle yet firm grip on your forearm, halting your motion of throwing the net once again. Turning your gaze to the source, you find Rotxo standing beside you, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he observes your fishing technique. His eyes sparkle with amusement as he takes hold of your hands, his touch sending a tingle of warmth through your skin.
Curiosity dances in his eyes as he asks, "Who taught you how to fish?"
You can't help but feel a touch of self-consciousness, looking down for a moment before meeting his gaze. "I actually taught myself," you admit, your voice carrying a hint of bashfulness.
A knowing smile graces his face as he replies, "That explains your stance. You won't catch many fish like that." He moves closer to you, his body language open and inviting. His question hangs in the air, and you find yourself captivated by his presence, eagerly granting him permission to guide you.
"I don't mind," you respond, your voice filled with anticipation and curiosity. With your consent, he takes the lead, positioning your hands and adjusting your body to align with his preferred fishing method. Every touch, every gentle adjustment, sends a jolt of electricity through your being.
"I must say, I've caught plenty of fish on my own," you playfully interject as he pulls away, a mischievous glint in your eyes.
He nods, his gaze transitioning from your hands to your eyes, a silent understanding passing between you. "I have no doubt about that. But the way you were doing it would have taken much longer," he remarks, a hint of admiration evident in his voice.
With his guidance, you make several more attempts, each time incorporating the adjustments he has shown you. It's a delicate dance of coordination, a symphony of movement and shared intention. You feel a sense of connection and trust building with each throw, as if you are moving in perfect harmony with each other and the rhythm of the water.
Time seems to melt away as you continue fishing together. Conversations flow effortlessly, laughter echoes through the air, and a sense of peace envelops you both. The symphony of nature's sounds—the gentle lapping of water against your legs, the rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the occasional splash of a fish—accentuates the tranquility of the moment.
A bittersweet ache tugs at your heart. You wish you that this would be the last time similar actions would be like this, that it’ll be easier to let go than to hold on to a love that can never be fully realized. It's a torment, a constant battle between the longing in your heart and the rationality in your mind. Each passing day spent in his company, teaching and bonding, feels both like a gift and a cruel twist of fate.
You had made peace with your feelings long ago, even before he confessed his love for Kiri. You had resigned yourself to the fact that friendship was the only path you could walk together, no matter how much it pained you. It was a choice to preserve what you had, to savor the moments of joy and connection, even if it meant treading a delicate tightrope of unspoken desires.
"You're spacing out again," Rotxo's voice breaks the spell of your thoughts. You find yourselves back at the familiar spot, the place where platonic confessions were made, now a couple of months later. Time has slipped away swiftly in the company of the one you love.
You let out a soft hum, meeting his gaze with contemplation and unknown affection. "I've been doing a lot of thinking," you confess, your voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty.
Curiosity flickers in Rotxo's eyes as he tilts his head, genuinely interested in the thoughts that have consumed you for so long. He has always respected your privacy, refraining from prying into your inner world. Yet, an undeniable concern gnaws at him, a desire to understand and offer support. You both have become pillars for each other, leaning on each other in times of need.
"Is it something troubling?" he asks, his gaze unwavering as he waits for your response.
“I think that depends on how someone sees it…” you trail off, sensing a shift in the atmosphere. The conversation takes an unexpected turn, and a wave of apprehension washes over you, making you hesitate to continue. You can't quite put your finger on it, but something feels different about this discussion, and it makes you reluctant to delve deeper.
"Will you tell me?" he whispers softly, his voice filled with concern and a touch of vulnerability. The genuine care in his eyes urges you to open up, but you find yourself momentarily speechless, unsure of how to express the conflicted emotions swirling within you. You don't want to burden him or risk jeopardizing the friendship you hold dear.
For a moment, silence hangs in the air, and he senses your hesitation. Worried that he may be crossing a line, he considers dropping the subject altogether. But just as he's about to let it go, your voice finally breaks through.
"I don't think I can continue to be your friend... I feel guilty," you confess, the words escaping your lips, filled with sadness and regret.
He shifts in his seated position, giving you his undivided attention with a serious expression. What could you possible feel guilty about? You haven’t done anything to him, he was pretty sure of that. If anything, you have been becon since his rejection, guilt was the last thing he expects you to feel. Unless it’s something he doesn’t know about.
"Guilt?" he repeats, his voice gentle yet tinged with confusion. "What is it that makes you feel this way?"
A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you try to find the right words. "It's these... feelings I have," you confess, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Feelings for who?” he wasn’t aware you had sometime you liked. And knowing that made him uncomfortable in his chest. It was a familiar feeling—like his heart has dropped to his stomach. A gasp leave Shia lips as you continue, his heart beat picking up.
“For you,” you express, looking eyes with him, “I’ve always liked you and I was content watching from afar. Then we started getting closer and my feelings gotten stronger. It’s became harder for me to ignore it. I can't help but feel guilty for having these emotions while knowing they may complicate our friendship.”
A faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips as he reaches out, his hand gently holding yours, a comforting gesture that you hadn't even noticed was trembling, “I think—no, I feel the same way,” he reveals.
Your eyes widen, your face flushing with warmth as you process his words, "You what?"
"I like you too," he confesses, his voice growing a little louder, “It took a while for me to realize it but when I did, I was scared that—uh, that another situation like before would happen again.” he moves to interlock your hands, lower his head bashfully as you’ve done in numerous situations.
You stare at him, your mouth hanging open in astonishment. "Do you really?"
His eyes meet yours, filled with warmth and fondness reflected in their depths. "I first noticed it when we were going to gather some fruit," he begins, his voice laced with a sense of nostalgia, "My stomach felt funny, and I couldn't help but feel excited when I saw your own excitement.”
He scoots closer to you, his shoulder gently brushing against yours, sending a delightful shiver down your spine. Your heart skips a beat, captivated by his closeness and his words.
"The first time my heart raced, I was scared and confused," he continues, his voice soft and filled with vulnerability, "You weren't even around, but it was as if you were right there in my thoughts. It took me a while to understand what those feelings meant, but now I do. I like you, more than ever. "
His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, and you can see the depth of his sincerity. It's a moment of shared revelation and vulnerability, a connection that goes beyond words.
A smile spreads across your face, mirroring the joy that fills your heart. "Me too," you whisper, your voice filled with an undeniable certainty. The weight of unspoken feelings finally lifted, replaced by the exhilarating realization that your feelings are reciprocated.
"I thought I misheard you when you said you'd be lucky to be with me," he chuckles, leaning his forehead against yours. "Little did I know, it would actually be the other way around."
You close your eyes, giggling softly at his words, flattered by his belief in your worth. "I see you," you whisper, too shy to meet his gaze. It feels surreal to hear him express his feelings so openly.
He gently releases your hand, his finger lightly tapping your cheek to get your attention. "Look at me," he insists, his voice filled with tenderness. "Tell me when you look at me."
With a bit of reluctance, you open your eyes, feeling a flutter in your stomach as your gazes meet. The intensity of his gaze sends a shiver of excitement down your spine, and in that moment, you realize that this is not a dream—it's your reality. Before you can utter a word, Rotxo beats you to it, leaving you breathless.
"I see you, (Name)," he says, his words overflowing with sweetness and sincerity. It shocked you that it was directed at you. Nearly felt like a dream if he didn’t plant a wet kiss on your nose, forcing you to wrap your head around that this was real, that he was there with you—not with Kiri or any o the other Na’vi woman.
Just you.
"Would this make it awkward, liking you after..." he starts to ask, his voice trailing off, unable to find the right words without it sounding off.
You shake your head, dispelling his concerns with a reassuring smile. "She'll understand," you assure him, confident in your response.
Because even though Kiri may have been oblivious to Rotxo's feelings, she had an inkling of your affection for him. That fateful night of raw emotions and a little too much alcohol had led to a heartfelt confession, revealing the depths of your feelings for Rotxo. In that moment, Kiri had grasp the truth, and though unspoken, an understanding had silently formed between you.
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misshoneyimhome · 5 months
Note
Okay okay I’m thinking, our angel boy had a big heart and a dense brain - plus he’s Swedish and as a person who has lived in Stockholm for a while moving from North America…getting those boys to a point where you are dating and finally saying the first “I love you” feels like a million years compared to Canadians! So maybe you’re like on the edge because like duh he’s who you see as your life partner and you know I’m your bones you love him but you still haven’t said it after being like 5 months in so you just casually drop it one night lol rip the bandaid off, what’s his reaction? Dealers choice bby😚
Alright, so I was in the mood for something overly candy-cane sweet, and perhaps something that could maybe be close to reality? (I have no idea, but let’s roll with it) 😅❤️ Let me know if this was akin to what you had in mind bb 😉 otherwise, I may have another idea for it
・✶ 。゚
Three Little Words
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One significant aspect that truly appealed to you about your boyfriend, William Nylander, was his serene and easy-going nature.
He hardly seemed bothered by much, perhaps apart from his affection for his dogs, and his relaxed attitude had a way of influencing those around him.
Yet despite adoring this quality about him, it reached a point where it began to frustrate you. While you knew you were in a committed relationship, somehow the weighty words remained unspoken.
And you longed for hearing those words.
Deep within your heart, you acknowledged your love for William. Love. Not mere fondness, not adoration, nor simply enjoying time together - love.
But it was a great phrase to vocalise. At least, for most people that was.
Five months into your relationship, you were desperate to express those sentiments. Yet, for some peculiar reason, a part of you hesitated. Maybe a part of you wished for William to be the first to utter those words, to openly reveal his commitment to you.
Yet, silence prevailed. He said nothing.
William, however, didn't dwell too much on these thoughts.
He simply found immense joy in being in a relationship without an overly dramatic girlfriend, one who'd spark a quarrel if he didn't head straight home after a match or text her constantly while on the road. No, you were different, and he cherished that about you.
You stood by him no matter what, and nothing ever seemed to set off any alarms.
William had been with several girls during his late teens and adult life, but none of those relationships endured. His hockey career consumed much of his time, causing many women to grow weary of his lifestyle. Consequently, he refrained from fully committing when entering new relationships.
However, when he noticed that you weren't easily intimidated by his bustling lifestyle, he immediately felt the urge to keep you close.
And there was no reason for concern. William had captured your heart almost immediately, and you were completely devoted to him.
**
So tonight, you made a mental resolution to test the waters a bit.
During one of your usual date nights on his day off, you had planned to watch a movie together on the sofa after dinner. And this seemed like the perfect opportunity to express your feelings, but it turned out to be more challenging than anticipated.
Throughout the evening, the mere thought of opening up made you incredibly nervous, yet William seemed oblivious to your inner turmoil.
He carried on discussing his training, his preparations for the upcoming match, and how he had honed his skills. His enthusiasm for hockey was endearing.
Initially, he refrained from sharing too much, not wanting to overwhelm you with technical details and descriptions you might not care about. But over time, you had conveyed your enjoyment in listening to him talk about it. Hockey wasn't just a hobby for him; it was his lifestyle and an unfiltered passion to the core. And you simply couldn't help but be captivated whenever he delved into it. His eyes sparkled like Christmas lights, and his words spilled out in sheer eagerness.
It was nothing but adorable.
And as you sat together on the sofa, earnestly trying to focus on your boyfriend's conversation, your mind raced, grappling with how to articulate those three significant words.
Yet, no conclusion emerged.
"Shit," you murmured quietly under your breath.
"What's up, babe?" William asked curiously, but you just shook your head and responded with a sweet 'nothing'.
And after William finished sharing his story, you both switched to watching a movie, settling on the sofa surrounded by your favourite snacks.
The movie was captivating, and soon both of you were engrossed in it. However, when the film's plot touched upon a romantic scene, your initial plan resurfaced.
Summoning a deep breath, you geared yourself up to speak. 'Just get it over with,' you urged yourself. And with William focused on the large TV screen, you softly blurted out, "Willy, I love you."
It felt like a rush of emotions surging out of you as the words left your mouth.
And William was slightly taken aback.
It was a combination of your unexpected choice of words and the abrupt interruption during the movie that left him speechless.
Your expression radiated nothing but sincerity and concern as your eyes searched for any indication of his feelings towards you.
You could almost feel your jaw tightening as he remained silent, his eyes locking with yours for what felt like an eternity, though it was only a few minutes in reality.
But suddenly, he broke the silence.
"You what?"
His tone held neither disgust nor excitement.
"I love you," you repeated softly, this time with a touch more confidence, realising that the words were out and there was no retreat. You felt your body gradually relax, standing by your spoken words with a certainty, irrespective of William's response.
"Babe," William began slowly, "I love you too..."
His voice carried tenderness, yet his facial expression remained inscrutable.
The movie's sound filled the room as both of you sat in silence, eyes fixed on each other.
You studied William's face intently, struggling to interpret his expression, or rather, the absence of one. He maintained a stoic, serious look, but his demeanour seemed calm and nonchalant as always. 
"Do you?" you asked tentatively, prompting a slight shift in William's reaction.
A gentle smile appeared on his face, accompanied by a soft chuckle. "Of course, why wouldn't I?"
His response left you somewhat confused.
"Well, I just didn't know that you did..." you admitted, feeling puzzled by his excessively relaxed reply.
"What do you mean? We've been dating for, like, 4-5 months... you practically live here, and we talk all the time," he grinned broadly.
"That doesn't automatically mean you love me, Willy," you retorted, almost defensively, which only amplified his laughter. "It's not funny! I need to know how you feel."
"Is that why you've been so nervous lately?" His laughter grew louder.
"Well... yeah, maybe... I wasn't sure where we stood, and I wanted to express my feelings. I just didn't know how," you admitted, caught between feeling frustrated by the situation and relieved that it didn't seem to be a significant issue.
"Babe, of course I love you – I know I haven't said it, but that's because I thought you knew..."
His statement took you by surprise. He thought what?
"Willy, darling, how am I supposed to know how you feel if you don't tell me?" you asked, with a nervous grin, causing him to rub his neck as he considered your point.
"I guess... I don't know," he shrugged.
"You do realise I can't read your mind... right?" you lightly chuckled.
"Well, maybe that's a good thing, you know," he joked, shifting his body slightly to draw you closer. "But I do... love you," he added softly, before elaborating. "And I'm sorry if me saying it first meant something to you, but... I've been in relationships on and off for years – and every time I said those words, they'd get all excited... yet a few months later, they were gone anyway. So, I guess I just stopped saying it... in case it wouldn't last."
As William expressed his true feelings, a sense of relief washed over him, leaving you slightly puzzled by his unexpected deep confession.
In fact, you hadn't really considered his perspective on this issue before, but now it all began to fall into place.
"Good," you softly expressed, feeling the weight lift off your shoulders. "And for future reference, please clue me in on what's going on in that head of yours, so I won't be a wreck for weeks," you playfully pleaded.
"Seriously? You've been thinking this over this for weeks?" he chuckled.
"Well... maybe," you grinned. "But that's not the point. What matters is that you promise to share whatever's going on in that sweet little dense brain of yours, no matter what it is."
William couldn't help but smile, his eyes fixed on you, a subtle lick of his lips indicating his amusement.
"Well, maybe, for what I have in mind right now, it's better if I show you instead," he suggested, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.
You couldn't resist a chuckle. "Seriously? I was being romantic, and then you bring in your kinky fuckery," you teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, of course, you declaring your love – that's sexy, babe, and now I've got to show you just how much I love you too."
Once more, a gentle sigh escaped you as you chuckled at your boyfriend's words, and tenderly, both of you closed the distance between you, meeting in a heartfelt kiss.
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munv · 1 year
Text
𝗟𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡
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I said headers. But who said they would be fancy? A writers gotta do what a writers gotta do
Yes In yandere kazuha we trust
KAZUHA is entranced by your very essence as a human being on this earth. Scratch that, how could someone as pure as yourself..always looking up at him with those eyes he swears he could see his future belong to a human? It simply doesn’t make sense to him so he digs down deeper to investigate.
Of course he can’t always keep tabs on you but it doesn’t mean that sometimes he doesn’t ditch his line of work just to see you. Completely absorbed into your entire being as to nothing else around matters. How could you be so oblivious to all those who wish to make you theirs around you? Those wretched pests..
Flashing that oh so lovely smile to everyone else like a spell. A spell that simply cannot be broken. Determined..no he just HAS to make you his..you are too good for this world darling, just let Kazuha shield you from the harm that this cruel world has to bring. Just keep your pretty little eyes on him and don’t disobey is all.
You are allowed to go about your daily life of course. Chores and everything must be done before he arrives home, nothing bad happens but all Kazuha wishes for is to just relinquish in your arms during that time so absolutely nothing must get in the way of that right?
He wishes to stop but he just can’t..Your smile, your sweet and yet so soothing voice. Even the sound of your breathing has become a must in order to continue on with his day..Yet, Kazuha can’t bring himself to stop. You belong to him alone. Cutting down everyone and anything in his path just so he can have you to himself..well aware of how selfish the whole plan is but don’t you want him too? He swears he can see it in your eyes dear so just accept your fate.
Like a predator and prey he keeps his eyes on you. Well aware the very thought of you drives him mad like a addictive drug..Eyes wide and full of longing and nothing but adoration reserved for you and only you. It makes him ponder on how you will view him after discovering what he has been doing to the people around you, will you look up at him with hatred? Fear? He is a genuinely curious guy! He needs to see all the type of faces you make or even noises. You stole his heart and not to mention his sanity..it’s only fair he returns it but tenfold right sweetheart?
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newbie-whovian · 2 years
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Hey! I’d love to request an eleventh doctor x reader where the doctor is completely dependent on and in love with the reader - she’s his anchor - but he doesn’t tell her cause you know... he’s the doctor. The reader is oblivious to those feelings and one day something happens - you choose what - and he might lose the reader. What will he do when he might possibly lose his anchor?
(Thank you so much for the ask! I love Eleven and I can only hope I did him justice)
Anchor - The Eleventh Doctor x Reader
The TARDIS sat parked in the middle of a lush forest, surrounded by bioluminescent mushrooms and dandelion seeds lazily floating on a breeze that oddly smelled like wildflowers. The door swung open and the Doctor, sporting a wide smile, stepped outside, saying, “Here we are! Planet of the Fair Folk! Looks like something out of a storybook, doesn’t it?” He turned on his heel and beckoned to you. “C’mon, you’ll love it, I promise.”
You followed him outside and looked around with a smile, meeting his gaze and saying, “I thought you were exaggerating, honestly.”
He frowned theatrically and said, "When do I ever exaggerate?" You opened your mouth to answer but he thought for a second and placed a finger over your lips. "Don't answer that."
You rolled your eyes and looped your arm through his. "Well, show me around," you said, and he gave you a crooked smile.
The two of you had been traveling together for the better part of a year, and as the days passed, he grew to depend on your company. He loved bouncing ideas off of you and whisking you away to wonders you could barely comprehend, and in the hours when you slept, while he wandered the TARDIS’ hallways, he found himself wishing you were awake to be with him. He had come to dread being alone over the centuries.
He adored you, but he liked to think that he hid it well; he was practically a master of deflection by now, after regeneration and regeneration of trying and failing to keep the people he loved at arm’s length. He hated the thought that you were so fragile. You had one solitary heart and one precious life hanging precariously by a thread, and if that were the case, then he was an idiot waving around a pair of scissors.
-
The two of you made your leisurely way through the forest. The Doctor made sure to identify every single bit of flora you came across, and you listened, picking small samples of each to bring back to the TARDIS. They all smelled lovely but you had to ask him when the two of you were heading back. You were starting to get a migraine, and you doubted the shade would help for very much longer.
He led you through an open clearing filled with swaying blue flowers, and as the suns overhead came into view, you held your head with a small groan, interrupting the Doctor’s explanation of the binary star system this planet belonged to.
You just finished picking and placing one of the blue flowers in your bag when the Doctor froze, grabbing your wrist. You frowned and tugged your wrist away, saying as you held your aching head, “What? What’s wrong?”
He began to dig through your bag, retrieving every single flower that you’d picked and muttering under his breath, “No no, no no no no no-”
You placed a hand on his shoulder and forced him to look at you, saying, “What’s going on?” He met your gaze with the panic you only ever saw when you faced down the Daleks or a universe-destroying paradox, and all of the blood drained from your face. “Doctor, tell me what’s going on.”
His eyes darted across your face for a tense second, and he swallowed a lump in his throat before he said, “We have to get back to the TARDIS. Now.”
He grabbed your wrist and you followed him as he retraced your steps through the forest. It grew harder and harder to keep up with him as he sprinted, and as you finally reached where you'd started off, you felt nauseous and weak in the knees. He snapped and the doors flew open, and he bolted inside.
Your head pounded and black spots began to cover your vision before you felt a sharp pain in your chest, bracing yourself on the console as the Doctor ran to find something. It felt like you couldn’t take in enough air, even as you gasped in lungfuls of it. You crumbled to your knees and onto the floor, and the last thing you saw before your eyes lulled shut was the Doctor in a panic, passing his sonic screwdriver over your face.
-
The Doctor cursed himself as he ran the last of your diagnostics, setting down his equipment and sitting at your bedside. The flowers carried toxins, toxins that were harmless to Gallifreyans and the natives of the planet but deadly to humans, because why wouldn't they. Why wouldn't every single bit of flora on a planet he took you to for a vacation have human-killing toxins in them? Humans were so damned fragile, he thought, trying not to think of the undeniable fear your near-death had conjured in him.
You stirred in your sleep, safe for now from the perils of the world outside those blue doors, and he allowed himself a watery smile, blinking back tears. Tears, Rassilon, he was in tears. His breath trembled and his hand shook as he stroked your cheek, muttering under his breath, "You can't scare me like that… don't you ever do that to me again."
His smile dimmed and a tear rolled down his cheek, his voice trembling as he said, "You can't leave me… I can't be alone again, I just can't…" He covered his mouth with one hand as the tears began to fall freely, and if there was one thing he hated about this regeneration, it was the way that every emotion had layers upon layers that he couldn't begin to comprehend. He cried over you, happy you were safe but so, so sad that one day you would leave to the one place he couldn't follow.
He laughed a watery laugh and looked down at his shoes, clasping his hands together before swiping away the tears on his cheeks. He rocked in his chair, trying to find the strength to smile but coming short. He found himself talking again, words pouring from him in the only manner they seemed to in this regeneration, faster than he could think, "You make me… so happy, truly happy, and I thought that was impossible for so long… but that's what you do, you make me happy, you keep me… well, sane isn't the right word, but the closest to it I think I can achieve, and in that sense, you can work miracles… and I love you for it, I truly do-"
His voice pinched and he covered his mouth again, standing from his chair and turning his back on you as he ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I don't know what I'll do if you leave, I truly don't, I've… gotten used to you, and as mundane as that might sound, it's quite an achievement, I'll have you believe. You make me better, so much better than I would be on my own, and I can't go back to how things were before you, I love you too much for that-"
A rustling came from behind him in your bed, and your voice interrupted him, "I'm not going anywhere, you ridiculous man."
He turned abruptly on his heel to see you sitting up in your bed, his face glistening with tears before he wiped them off with the back of his sleeve and sat back down. "How much… did you hear?"
You offered him a gentle smile and said, "Enough."
He wrapped you up in an enormous hug, which you returned as he said, "I'm sorry that happened to you, I can't believe I was so careless."
You broke the hug to press a finger over his lips, saying, "But you saved me, that's all that matters."
He met your gaze, slowly letting out a breath before hugging you again. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and rested his cheek against your hair as he whispered, "I don't know what I'd be without you-"
You nuzzled your face into his shoulder and whispered in reply, "You'll never have to find out."
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diludae · 2 years
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Kind of an odd one, but could I request a scenario with Diluc's s/o trying to (hilariously, but unsuccessfully) matchmake Adelinde and Elzer on Valentine's Day, and Diluc has to intervene before the antics get too out of hand?
𝓣𝓸 𝓜𝓪𝓽𝓬𝓱𝓶𝓪𝓴𝓮 𝓪 𝓜𝓪𝓲��� (𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓑𝓾𝓽𝓵𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓸𝓸!)
I had a lot fun writing this, but I might've gone a tad-off prompt. I apologize!
diluc x gn!reader // fluff/comedy // anon suggestion // enjoy <3
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They were absolutely perfect for each other.
Or at least, in your mind they were perfect.
The way in which Elzer so graciously offers his hand to Adelinde to help with laundry, or when they constantly compliment each others work, or the way they always walk home together during the dead of night, or-
Maybe you thought about the two employees a little too often.
But as the early-February wind blew throughout the vineyard, you could practically smell love kindling in the air. You were of course busy with countless dates prepared by the wine tycoon himself, your loving and always doting boyfriend of 2 years, Diluc Ragnvindr. However, this Valentines, you wished on a fallen star that maybe you and ‘Luc wouldn’t be the only ones celebrating at the winery.
To be honest, you really had no idea why Adelinde and Elzer’s non-existent love life meant so much to you. Perhaps you had finally felt the joy of being with someone you truly love, and wanted to share that delightful experience with others. Maybe a teeny-little part of you wanted to take credit for matchmaking such a beautiful bride and groom at their eventual wedding. Whatever the case was, you wanted to see them together no later than the fourteenth. You could never let the once-a-year love season pass such an adoring and pining future spark.
It started with small, not-so-subtle hints. Elzer and Adelinde were surprisingly quite oblivious to the increase in tasks they had to perform together by the end of the day. Along with participating in their daily activities, the two found themselves spending their time assisting one another with paperwork and dusting. It wasn’t long before the Master of the estate took notice of the odd tasks his darling Y/n filed for requests.
“Love, could I… speak with you for a moment?”
You wondered what he could possibly need to speak with you about. I mean, he has been slightly needy with the rise of couples filling the streets, but there wasn’t anything you two couldn’t handle.
As you walked with him towards your bedroom you noticed the slight awkward tone in his movements. The way he only ever-so-slightly fidgeted with his gloves, or the look in his eyes holding one of embarrassment. He kindly opened the bedroom door and gestured you inside.
“I’ve seen the tasks you’ve been assigning to Adelinde and Elzer. My dear, do you care to explain?”
Shit.
“Well, I- I mean it’s like only slightly a little complicated..” Diluc could hear you trailing out your incoherent response with slews of “uh’s” and awkward chuckles.
“Now, this is a complete guess, but would I be correct to assume you’re trying to… get them together?”
While your mouth remained silent, your bright red face communicated all that needed to be said.
“My love,” Diluc grabbed a hold of your waist and gently pulled you down to the bed. He nuzzled his face in your hair as you wrapped your arms around him. “You really shouldn’t be meddling with other people’s business, you know.” “I get it, I get it.” Your voice was muffled as Diluc held your head against his broad chest. “But also, they just seem so cute and fluffy together. I’m not sure, maybe I’m in over my head, but I deeply enjoy the time I spend with you. So, I thought it would be cool if maybe other people could have that same feeling of warmth with someone they also love..”
Diluc’s expression was unreadable, yet his grip around your body tightening spoke for him. A kiss was planted on your forehead as you felt the bed’s covers reaching over the two of you. “I sincerely thank you for your affection, liebling. Get some rest. We’ll talk more about this in the morning”
If only you two had noticed the mischievous maid and butler listening in from outside the door, giggling at your less than stellar attempt, yet still touched by the action.
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somedaytakethetime · 5 months
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So.. I'm back. With yet another word vomit. But.. this one is.. special.. if you will.. something I don't normally write about ever.. but.. something that's on my mind a lot. It won't suit everyone, it might not even suit most even, but it might find just the right people I hope...
Notes: you like fruit? I'm incredibly fond of fruit... that's both the clue and the warning, you're welcome. It's also somewhat.. descriptive... it's only fair given that I make everything else a little.. descriptive..
Word count: 3 650 words
The sun is caressing her cheeks and she closes her eyes as she tilts her head further up. Her hands are firmly pressed against the soft cloth behind her and she pushes her chest further out, almost offering it to the sun's kisses. Her skin is a little flushed from the heat, her hair falls behind her in cascades of shiny silk. It makes you breathless to look at her, she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen. You watch her sigh, chest rising and then falling, as she allows the sun to wrap her in it's warm embrace, allows the heat and the good weather to seep into her bones. Relaxes completely and finally feels at peace after one long season of work. The thin strap of her top slips down her smooth skin, your eyes follow it in it's path, watching in total trance how she doesn't move a single muscle, oblivious to your attention and deep affection. There's people around you, yet you always find yourself completely focused on her. Your friends' voices start to flood into your ears again as the world comes back to focus. She opens her eyes and moves, no longer in an outstretched and relaxed position, instead sitting cross legged on the picnic blanket. You're at the park, hanging out with people you adore, but you wish.. you wish it could just be the two of you. You wish she'd smile that softly at you, the way she does to your best friend currently. You wish you'd have her full attention, even just once, the way she always has yours. But she seems oblivious to your interest in her, seems to not realise that you want her, desperately, that's she's become the object of your deepest, most intimate affections. 'I wish you'd see me the way I see you... it's unfair that they always get the best of you and I'm left trailing behind, trying to get even just a smidgeon of attention.. am I that unattractive? Maybe I'm annoying.. why won't you like me??' You almost huff, on the verge of an inner tantrum, but you're startled from your inner moping when a grape hits your forehead. "Are you going to sulk all afternoon or are you going to participate in the debate?" your friend asks, smirking as he plops a grape into his mouth, and you side eye him "I'm not sulking, I'm thinking. Dumbass." he laughs softly "Sulking, thinking, pondering.. it all looks the same with you, Prissy Pam.", you're about to tell him off, playfully as you always tease each other, but a soft hand touches your arm. Her eyes are so beautiful, you could stare into them for a million years and never tired. You feel breathless every time she looks at you, especially when she smiles softly like now. "What do you think?" your face burns, you have no clue what she said before.. she laughs softly, sees it clearly that you weren't paying attention, "The last game of the season. Do you think the referee was unfair with us, or do you think he was justified?" oh.. they're debating that. Yeah, you have strong opinions on that.. the ref was clearly biased against them, and he kept picking on her.. at some point you wanted to throw hands with him but your best friend told you to be quiet "You can't fight and you know you can't fight, settle down." and.. she wasn't wrong but still. So.. what do you think? You look into her kind eyes, her soft smile as she waits for your perspective and you think you'd burn down the whole world for her.
It's rare to find her in a dress, but not impossible. She wears them sometimes, when she feels like it. She's a practical woman, prefers the freedom of trousers because the wind won't try to blow them over her head. The way it's currently tickling at the flimsy hem of her dress. But.. you'd be lying if you said that dresses aren't your favourite look on her. She's pretty, she's so pretty.. you like how her legs look in dresses. She's shapely in a way that the kits tend to hide, the bagginess of the clothes she favours doesn't show how her body is sculpted with the softest curves. Not in the way this wrap dress she's wearing does. Hugging her body tightly the way you wish you could. The thin fabric dancing with every little motion she makes, your eyes glued to her yet again. She's laughing at something a friend said, you're on your way to a night club. It's hot tonight, clammy even, you're wearing a dress too albeit a looser one. The wind keeps wrapping itself around your legs, under your dress, snaking around your thighs and tummy. It's on the verge of uncomfortable because the wind feels hot and sticky. It makes your skin heated and sticky too. But you're not the only one bothered. You notice her touch her neck softly, breathing deeper, she looks slightly uncomfortable and you notice a small bead of sweat slide down between her breasts. Should you be looking at her cleavage this openly? Probably not, but no one is paying you any attention so.. you follow the path that tiny bead makes, from her chest bone, between the valley of her breasts, all the day down. Disappearing under the fabric. You have the urge to pull the fabric apart, see where that bead disappears off into. You want to chase it with your lips, want to kiss a path down from her neck, behind her ear, all the way to her p-.. "Hello?? Earth is calling? Are you there??" your best friend is waving her hands in front of you, looking annoyed, "Do you want to go with us or not?" you shake your head "Go where?" you watch her roll her eyes, huff, "To the other club! This one is boring, and it'll probably be full of people, we were just talking about making the switch, keep up, girl!" you see her laugh, from the corner of your eyes, hides her face with her hand as she pretends she's not amused that you always seem to be several kilometres away, but you refocus and nod slowly "I'll go wherever, I don't care." your best friend sighs, "Of course you don't.." and takes your hand, pulls you to turn back as you start walking in the wrong direction again, glares at you in that fond maternal way she's been doing for years, "I swear, you're such a goof sometimes.." you laugh and tease her back, it's easier to pretend that you're just flighty instead of admitting were your head had actually been.. and where you wish it could be..
She smells like fruit, she tastes like fruit too. Soft, unhurried kisses getting deeper and deeper the more you move together. Whispery, breathless moans and whines mix like your tongues do too. Heated, sticky skin presses together as you push even closer to each other. Your legs are tangled, you feel the slickness as you slide in unison. Her hands tangle in your hair, pull tightly and you whine into her neck. Your own slide up her back, one disappears into her hair to hold her in place while the other traces a path all the way to her breast. Playing with her nipple, you kiss her neck as you feel her melt and press down harder. Everything is heated and sticky and slippery, it feels so good and you whine too. She kisses you roughly, a little needy, as she rubs against you faster. You cling to each other, fall back together and tangle even further as you both get so desperate to fall apart. She pulls away, arches her back, you look at her like she's unreal. Her hands brace themselves against your hips as she settles, moving faster and faster, and you watch her, transfixed by the way her breasts move. Your hand reaches up to hold one and you feel pleased with the way she whines and arches further, presses more desperately to you, her soft sounds flooding your brain and making you dizzy. You're so close, and so is she. Her hair is messy and unruly, you're both sweaty and needy. She says something and you can't make out what she's saying, look at her puzzled when a "Are you listening to me or not??" comes from her mouth but not in her own voice. You shake your head and the flashes all fade away, leaving you starring straight into your best friend's eyes. "Listen, girl, you know I love you, right? And it's exactly because I love you that I'm going to need you to stop doing that. You either toughen up and tell her that you're into her or you just let it go and move on. But you can't keep fading in and out of reality while you hornily stare at this poor unsuspecting girl and then force us all to pretend we don't know what you're thinking about.." you glare at your friend and she glares right back, "All I'm saying is: either take a chance or don't. But listen.. stop moping. We all see plainly that you like her, so surely she's seen it too. She's not stupid, you know? Just go for it. Tell her how you feel. See where it leads you." a whiny scoff leaves your lips "Easier said than done! Look at her! She's a goddess, she can have anyone! How am I supposed to be like 'Hey, so I know that you're drop dead gorgeous and you could go out with any person that you wish, but this troll here would like your attention please'." the wrist slap your friend gives you in unfairly strong, she didn't need to go that hard.. "If you call yourself a troll again, I'll smack your lips off.. you're pretty, stunning even! I won't hear whatever bullshit your brain tells you, I don't care, argue with the wall. You're hot, she's hot, together you'd be hot. Tell her! End of story. If she doesn't see it? Then she's an idiot and you deserve better, so you move on." there's no arguing with your friend once she gets in this mood, she thinks she's right and nothing will change her mind. She's confident and head-strong, you wish you could be more like her. Especially in this matter. You wish you could so easily say, to the object of your affections, 'Hey, I really like you. Do you like me? Do you think we can go make out somewhere? Please?' with ease and confidence, but you clam up every time she's around. It'll be harder than it looks to even just say 'Hi, I think you're great.' and not have a minor stroke..
You're alone. Well, you're not alone. She is here too. You don't understand why she's stayed behind, but alas she did. Your friends wanted to go out and party the night away but you didn't feel like leaving tonight. You'd rather just sit out here, looking up at the starry sky, enjoying the breeze and the salty air. You didn't even know she had stayed behind, not until you heard noises inside and it frightened you, thinking someone had broken in, before her head popped out and said "Do you want something to eat? I'm making cheesy toasties." you shook your head and tried to settle your erratic heart, this time not because of her but due to the scare she caused you, she's oblivious. Just smiled softly, "Okay, but if you get hungry? I've got food!" and plopped back inside. You stared at the door for a while before settling back down on the lounge chair. It's a strange feeling. To be hyper aware of someone. To almost be able to feel them walking around as if they have your own legs. You close your eyes and you can almost see her inside, walking around with those little shorts.. you love her legs, you can't help it. She's unfairly attractive and you're only human. You wish you could touch her, feel how soft the skin of her inner thighs must be, feel the curve of her hips under your hand, the roundness of her breasts.. you're doing it again. You're fantasizing about her again. You can't help that either. The heat makes your hormones go all wacky, you easily get turned on and your brain just races thinking about her. Thinking about how she must sound, must feel.. the door slides open and it startles you, she walks out in a bikini. "Mind if I go in? It's really fucking hot inside and I can't take it anymore." the AC has been broken for a few days, the rental's landlord is trying to fix it but it's hard to track down someone to replace the units without it costing an arm and a leg. You shrug as you watch her dip into the pool. You try to keep a neutral face, try to keep looking at the ocean, far off in the distance, to keep your mind in check. But this is dangerous territory, and you're not sure how long you can keep fighting your own desperate need to touch her.
Her body is dripping with water as she walks out of the pool again. "God, that felt nice." she nearly moans. You pride yourself on being a woman, being controlled, not having debased urges like a man would but.. that's all bullshit. You're a woman, yes, and that means exactly that you lack control too, that you have debased urges, a need to touch, to kiss, to possess things. You're human, and humans are lust-filled creatures. It's hard to focus on anything other than her body as she sprawls out on the lounge chair next to you. But you try. Keep looking at the ocean, waves rolling in and out slowly, hum a song playing in your head even if the song itself is ironical. 'God is a Woman', isn't it funny how the mind works? You don't even care much for that song and yet, it springs into your mind from time to time, harasses you, won't leave. Your concentration keeps breaking the more she fidges and squirms, she's acting like she has ants in her pants. "Are you okay?" you fixate on her face, avoid looking anywhere else because your mind will wonder off if you do. She nods, tries to stay still but eventually keeps fussing again. "Are you sure you're okay?" this time she sighs "I don't understand how people can stay in wet clothes. This is so uncomfortable.." you laugh softly, you know exactly what she means. You hate wet clothes, you used to cry when you were a child, at the beach, if the water wet your bathing suit. Used to force your parents to change you, you were restless until you were in dry clothes again. At some point in your very early youth they gave up putting a bathing suit on you and just allowed you to toddle around as God intended, there was no point wrestling with a squirming, crying toddler. "I used to throw a fit if my bathing suit was wet, I hated the feeling when I was little." she sits up, "It's just incredibly uncomfortable! I hate feeling fabric stick to me. I despise how it feels, even during games? When I get sweaty and the kit starts to stick to me? I hate it so much. I have the desperate need to throw it off and burn it. I want to do the same right now. I hate this feeling." you smile and nod, look at her for a moment, you don't know what possesses you to say it but it comes out so naturally "You can take it off, it's just us now." you're starring at each other, your face is burning and you look away, back at the ocean, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. It's just.. I know how uncomfortable it is, so all I was saying is you can take it off, I won't look at you. I promise it wasn't in a weird way.." she hums a curious sound, you refuse to look at her, but you hear the wet slap of cloth falling onto the ground. You fixate extra hard on the sky now, flat out refuse to even glance at her from the corner of your eye, you didn't expect she'd actually do it. But she hums again, as she settles down on the lounger, this time far more comfortable, "That's so much better. It's too hot for clothes anyway.." you refuse to move a muscle, barely even breathe, you try to calm your racing heart, to ignore everything. Your lids slide shut as you settle into the chair too, hands clasped together over your stomach, you try to think of the ocean still. Rolling.. sliding.. in and out.. back and forth.. waves crashing.. 'God is a woman' echoing on loop in your mind.. you feel beads of sweat sliding down your chest, under your shirt, squirm a little and press your legs together, ignore the burning inside yourself and focus on the sounds of the waves.
A soft sound startles you. A moan? You open your eyes and look at her, then remember she's nude and look away. She laughs, a bright laugh, "You can be such a prude.. and so oblivious too..", you scoff, "I'm not a prude! I-" but she's already flooding your view, moving to straddle your lap, completely nude.. "Do you honestly think I go around taking my clothes off this easy for anyone to see?" you're trying so hard not to stare at her breasts, keep looking at her face, but she's the devil herself, presses further onto you, cages you against the chair, her breasts so close to your face.. "I'm horny..". Said so naturally. Like you've been together for years and she's just informing you of her state. You whine, a needy sound. A desperate feeling is trying to claw it's way out of your body, you're dizzy and feel intoxicated. "I like you.. if you weren't so busy always zooning off, you'd seen it by now.." you stare at her, she tilts her head to the side, "Do you like me too?" 'Do I-' how do you even begin to express how you feel? Like? Not strong enough. Love? Too strong for this moment. What do you even say? How do you express all the desire, the devotion, the yearning and aching you feel? Your hands creep onto her hips, hold her tightly, you don't mean to touch her just yet but you can't help it "I- I like you too.. more than like even.. you're very... enticing.." a pleased, amused sound purrs in her chest, "Really? Am I now?", she leans closer to your face again, whispers soft and teasing, "So.. are we going to chit chat all night or.. will you help me out?". It's hard to tell who kisses who first, but it doesn't matter anyway. All that matters is that her lips are plush and warm, she tastes like water and faintly of berries. A sweet, tangy flavour that makes you want more. Her hands are desperately pulling at your clothes, "Take it off.." she whispers, need clouding her tone. You get naked in record time, just as needy and desperate to feel her body against yours. You whine together when it happens. You've dreamed about it for a long time now, wanted this so badly. She's even softer than you imagined, warmer and so plush under your hands. She's whiny, kisses you with so much want, pulls your hair and bites your lip, laughs into the kiss when you complain slightly. Your hands find every curve of her body, hold her breasts and play with her nipples, it makes her shiver and moan against your lips. She starts to rub on your thigh, spreading the wetness on your sticky, heated skin. You shiver, feel a fever rising inside you. Your hands move back down and nearly forcefully adjust her in your lap. You break the kiss and whine in sync as you meet, slippery wetness pressing together, you roll against each other like the waves. Leaning back down, she curls over you, her forehead pressed to yours as you look into each other's eyes. No words are said, there's no need for them, you know exactly what the other is thinking. 'So good, you're amazing, I want you, more, please, I need you' strings of incoherency cloud your brain, your hands are frantic, leaving paths of flames on her body as they pass. She makes soft, breathy sounds and moves faster. You follow her, a need so strong it makes you dizzy, you've dreamed about it so much but nothing can compare to how good it feels to have her. You kiss, whine and moan into each other's lips, falling together as the waves crash harder against the rocks in the distance, echoing your emotion. You shiver together, cling to each other, melt as one and keep rolling even as you settle down. It feels so good to press like that, you want to keep doing it even as you pause to kiss and grope each other. She pulls back and looks into your eyes, there's no need for words at all, 'Stay with me' is what she says, and stay with her is what you'll do. You lay down together, touching heated skin and kissing slowly as need, little by little, creeps back inside you both. The waves crash in the distance as you hear echoes in your mind, firmly declaring God is, indeed, a woman.
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demoiselettes · 1 year
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hellooo! i would like to request a matchup please :D\
i am a demigirl and i have no gender preferences but i mainly use she/they pronouns, but i honestly dont mind if people use other pronouns for me.
i am 5'2 , i have shoulder-length black hair with bangs that go to my eyes, brown up-turned eyes, slightly turned up ears and sort of a fairy like appearance (now that i think of it, maybe its because of the makeup)
my personality is almost like mitsuris (gets flustered easily, shy, emotional, big appetite, hopeless romantic and kind (i think)) but i think im more outspoken and sarcastic than her (?) i like drawing, baking, cooking, playing piano and singing! but i dont like arrogant, oblivious and selfish people (ew)
my favourite colour is either pink, yellow or sage green! my love language is quality time, i do enjoy cooking and baking a lot and i wish to be either a chef or a baker once i finish school :D
i think thats it, please tell me if theres something i missed and thank you!!
Eventide
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I match you with Genya Shinazugawa!
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•You thought i was gonna match you up with Obanai hah/j
•Honestly, i don’t know how either of you like, ever hang out around each other
•The moment he sees you, he’s running the opposite way even though his original plan was to talk to you but now he’s completely stumped because of how beautiful you are and he feels like he swallowed his tongue and-
•So yeah, it’d take a heck ton lot of courage for him to decide to stay in close proximity to you for more than a few minutes
•Trust me, it isn’t because he doesn’t like you or anything
•But Genya is just pretty shy in general despite his brute exterior, and so him hanging out with someone like you carries 100% risk of him passing out
•He practically worships you in his mind, he thinks you’re the prettiest thing alive
•But of course you’d never know that..
•Your interactions are basically you talking to him while he’s trying his hardest to keep it together in the back
•He’s rather protective of you
•He considers you to be one of the few people he has left, alongside his brother and the Kamaboko squad, so don’t be surprised if he just jumps at anyone who looked at you the wrong way
•You might think he isn’t fond of you, cause he tends to be rather rude and aggressive, but he just has no idea how to act around you ☹️
•With time(and help from Tanjiro, an extremely jealous Zenitsu and a very annoyed Shinobu) he’s going to soften up a bit and you’ll see a gentler and sweeter side of Genya
•The shyness will probably never go away though
•He adores it when you get flustered too, for two reasons
•1) it’s relieving for him to know he isn’t the only one who’s shy around you- it’s a bonus if you get flustered when you’re with him though it’s likely he won’t notice
•And 2)..he thinks you look adorable
•He tries to deny it, but the fact that you’re shorter than him inflates his ego by a lot
•Would definitely tease you about your height, only it mostly comes out as insults.. he really doesn’t mean it
•He’d buy an entire ramen shop for you (if he had enough money to do so and Gyomei’s approval)
•No, really, he takes note of your appetite and gets you food whenever he can
•Gyomei’s definitely noticed something going on between you both and so he tries to help out with cooking as often as he can
•You might find Sanemi being nicer to you too..
•I think he’d be willing to sit and listen to you gush about love
•He wouldn’t input much, but he’d simply listen and maybe his mind would wander..
•Your official taste tester
•Always there to try your new goodies, and he isn’t afraid to tell you if your food’s missing something so you can improve !
•Then he’ll eat everything
•Would love to listen to you sing, but when you begin he’s red and steaming to the point where you think he’s having heat stroke
•Like you, Genya isn’t fond of arrogant people
•Growing up, he didn’t have the best financial situation and it did happen for him to chance upon wealthy folks.. it didn’t go well
•You being generous is probably what draws him in in the first place
•Actively supports your dream of becoming a chef!
•He finds it so adorable how much you enjoy cooking & baking, if you can carve out a career from that, he’ll try his hardest to be the best taste tester you can get :)
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criminalmindzjunkie · 3 years
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Hungry Eyes
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Summary: Spencer is tired of hiding your relationship. 
A/N: The idea for this fic came from a lovely anon that requested a fic based on She’s So Nice by Pink Guy. I also drew inspo from Hungry Eyes by Eric Carmen (strange mix, but stay with me here.) So basically, a lot of Dom!Spencer goodness. I’d like to say a huge thank you for almost 1k followers, because wow. I never imagined 5 people would actually want to read my writing. I love you all, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future works!
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
Warnings: swearing, jealousy, degradation, spitting, slapping, oral sex (male and female receiving), spanking, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex
Word Count: 5.5k
           “That is one fine piece of ass. Don’t think I could get any work done with a sweet little thing like that prancing around my precinct,” mutters yet another sleezeball detective, beady eyes trained on you like a lion might study their prospective prey. It’s moments like these that Spencer has to remind himself that patience is a virtue – that he must bite his tongue because he’s at work and that means he has to act professional. Even if those around him don’t seem capable of affording him the same luxury.
           So, it’s with a clenched jaw and all the self-restraint that he can muster that Spencer forces himself to focus on the task at hand. Because Spencer is a professional, and there are more pressing matters that demand his undivided attention. The detective could be dealt with later – in the form of a complaint to the higher ups. But for now, patience.
           Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. Years on the job had taught Spencer to remain level headed no matter the circumstance. Usually, Spencer could tune out the locker room talk in favor of immersing himself into the case. But when it came to you, or rather, people who dared to look upon you with eyes laden with lustful intentions, Spencer had a rather short fuse.
           It happens often, and he supposes that he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d certainly turned his head the first time he was fortunate enough to lay eyes on you. He’d nearly broken his neck trying to steal another glimpse of you as you walked past him on your way to Emily’s office on your first day. No one would ever describe Spencer Reid as forward, but on that day, he was the most brazen he’d ever been.
           Throwing caution to the wind, Spencer made a split-second decision stop you and introduce himself.
           It was the best decision he would ever make.
           So, yes – he understood why the head of everyone you passed turned your way, eager to bask in your unparalleled beauty. But that didn’t mean that he had to like it. In fact, every time Spencer caught some imprudent bastard leering at you, he had to remind himself that enacting physical force on another person with no real reason could cost him his job. That, and he was above resorting to violence – or at least he was, until you came around.  
           Part of his anger was rooted in the obvious lack of respect. It didn’t matter if Spencer held your hand in his as the two of you walked down the street, or if he kissed you on the lips in the middle of a crowded restaurant. All the PDA in the world did nothing to assuage the lingering stares, and Spencer felt his sanity chip away with every passing day.
           In the beginning, keeping his relationship with you a secret from your colleagues seemed like a good enough idea. Both of you were in agreement that you didn’t want to your personal relationship to affect your professional one, so when the elevator doors opened up and the two of you stepped out into the bullpen, you both were on your best behavior. And it was okay at first – Spencer was able to put his romantic feelings aside and focus on his work, all while still being able to make eyes at you from across the room. It was the perfect arrangement.
           Until it wasn’t.
           Because it wasn’t enough that you were gorgeous – you were also the most selfless person that Spencer had ever met. Always eager to lend a hand to anyone in need – always seeing the best in everyone, regardless of if they deserve it or not. It was an admirable quality to have, and he loved you for it, but on days like today he wishes you were a little more perceptive.
           That, and he wishes you’d chosen to wear anything but the tight little skirt and low-cut top that you were currently sporting. Not that he didn’t love the way the fabric clung to your figure like it was tailor-made for you – because he did - it was just that every other male in the precinct seemed to enjoy it as much as he did. And that made Spencer’s blood boil.
           The tipping point comes when, just as Spencer is trying to hunt you down and propose a quick lunch break, he finds you engaging in conversation with the very same detective that had been spouting lewd comments about you all morning. You’re seated at the breakroom table, clutching a fresh cup of coffee in hand as you look up at the man, a polite smile upturning your lips as you listen to him drone on about how his amateur baseball team had won some stupid fucking tournament the previous weekend. He’s smiling down at you, endlessly smug and way too pleased with himself at having captured your attention.
           It makes Spencer sick.
           His reprieve comes when your eyes flit to the doorway and you flash him a breathtaking smile. It makes him warm from the inside out, and Spencer wants nothing more than to plant kiss after kiss on your lips. Unfortunately, he can’t, so he settles on returning your smile.
           “There you are,” Spencer greets as he crosses the room before coming to a stop next to you. “I was thinking we could go grab lunch.”
           “Is it really lunch time already?” you murmur as you glance down at your watch. “I guess I let the day get away from me. Detective Yarborough was just telling me about the baseball game his team won this weekend.”
           “Oh, was he now,” Spencer feigns interest as he turns to face the man.
           “Yup,” you say, completely oblivious to the uncomfortable tension. “Didn’t you tell me you played in a baseball game once?”
           This piques the interest of Yarborough and he raises an eyebrow at Spencer.
           “You play?” he asks, tone laden with disbelief.
           “Not exactly.”
           The detective merely harrumphs in response, and an uncomfortable silence falls on the room.
           Your eyes dart between the two men and your brows furrow adorably as you try to make sense of the almost palpable animosity.
           “Okay… So, lunch. Did you have anything in mind, Spence?”
           “There’s a really good pizza joint two blocks from here,” Yarborough chimes in. “I could show you, if you like.”
           He acts as if the offer extends to you both, but the way he looks only at you when he says it tells Spencer otherwise.
           “The hospitality is appreciated, but that won’t be necessary,” Spencer breezes, clipped and to the point. He’s able to see in his peripheral vision the way your eyebrows raise in shock, but he’s too busy glaring at the detective to care.
           “Uh, yeah. Thanks anyways, Detective,” you mutter confusedly as you stand.
           “Anything for a pretty lady such as yourself,” he replies. “And you can call me Trevor.”
           Spencer’s hands are clenched into fists and he has to actually bite down on his tongue to keep from doing something he’d surely regret later. You bid Trevor ado with a smile and a parting wave, and then Spencer’s ushering you out of the room and down the hall, hand placed firmly on your back. He can’t do much in regards to initiating physical contact, but he allows himself this miniscule act of PDA. The feeling of your warmth radiating through your blouse is the only thing keeping him from giving into his primal instincts. Instincts that are screaming at him to put that smarmy bastard in his place.
--
           The hours after lunch pass by rather uneventfully. You accompany Tara when she goes to interview the victim’s family, and for the first-time all-day Spencer is able to repress his frustration long enough to focus on piecing together a geographical profile. By the time you and Tara return, the sun has long since disappeared from the sky and fatigue is rolling off everyone in waves. When Emily finally announces the end of the day, she’s met with absolutely no resistance.
           Spencer immediately scans the room for you, only to frown when he sees that you’re nowhere in sight. In fact, he hasn’t set eyes on you in well over an hour, too busy wrapping up the days’ work to notice your absence until now.
           “Has anyone seen Y/N?” Spencer calls out. His question is met by several shaking heads.
           “I think she’s busy,” JJ sing-songs, eyebrows waggling suggestively. Spencer’s frown only deepens.
           “Busy?”
           JJ nods.
           “Yarborough has been chomping at the bit to ask her to dinner. My guess is he’s got her cornered somewhere.”
           Of fucking course.
           Spencer’s out of his seat and stomping through the precinct in second, oblivious to the way his coworkers exchange curious glances as he storms off.
           He finds the two of you in much the same way as before, only this time Trevor is blocking your path to the doorway, hand in the air as he moves to tuck a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.
           “– C’mon, babe. Say you’ll go to dinner with me,” Trevor croons in a way that’s supposed to come off as seductive. “I’ll make it worth your while.”
           You lean backwards in an attempt to evade his touch, and you barely get the chance to open your mouth when Spencer intervenes.
           “She’s not interested.”
           The detective whips around, snorting in annoyance when he sees Spencer standing in the doorway.
           “What are you, her fucking keeper?” Trevor sneers, before turning back to face you. “Who does this guy think he is?”
           Something in Spencer snaps, then – the same something that has been swelling inside him for months, threatening to spill over every time he had to pretend that the stares didn’t enrage him. He’s tired of pretending, tired of hiding, and so, so fucking tired of not putting assholes like Trevor Yarborough in their place.
           Fueled by months of suppressed anger, Spencer manages to cross the room in about two seconds. He has several inches on the detective, standing at an intimidating six-foot one inch in height, so when he comes to a stop right in front of the detective, he’s looming over him threateningly.
           “I’m her fucking boyfriend, and if you so much as try to touch her again, I’ll break your goddamn hand,” Spencer spits out, and he’d be lying if he said the way Trevor’s eyes widen in fear doesn’t thrill him. “Are we clear?”
           “Uh, yeah. Sorry, dude,” Trevor splutters, raising his hands in surrender. “Didn’t know she was taken. My bad.”
           Spencer tears his eyes away from the detective and takes in the way you’re watching on with an amused expression. He reaches out, and you’re quick to place your hand in his. Without speaking another word to the detective, Spencer leads you from the room and out the back entrance of the precinct.
           “What was that?” you tease, eyes glistening mischievously underneath the street lights. “I thought we agreed that we weren’t taking things public just yet?”
           Spencer crowds you against the brick wall of the building, pressing his body flush against yours. He ducks down swiftly, pulling you into a frenzied kiss. His lips drag against yours relentlessly, and all it takes is one breathy moan before he’s licking into your mouth possessively. Spencer slots his knee in between your legs, simultaneously groping at your chest with one hand as the other tangles in your hair.
           When Spencer pulls away, he doesn’t go far. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck as you writhe against him, hands clinging tightly to his dress shirt. You whimper when his teeth nip at the tender spot right under your ear, and you can’t help the way your hips cant up when Spencer’s tongue brushes against reddened skin.
           “I’m tired of pretending,” Spencer murmurs as his mouth continues to move against you, sucking purple bruises against your flesh. “Don’t fucking care about how it will affect the job. Tomorrow, everyone’s gonna know that you’re mine. Gonna mark every inch of you tonight – gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking walk.”
           “Please,” you slur as you guide Spencer’s hand down until his fingers graze the end of your skirt. Spencer chuckles darkly against your neck when his hand brushes against the soiled lace of your panties.
           “Didn’t mean I’d fuck you right here,” he laughs, prompting you to let out an impatient whine. The hand that was previously tangled in your hair slides down until it’s wrapped around your throat, and Spencer’s cock twitches eagerly in his pants when you push your throat harder into his palm. “Such a needy little slut for me. Ready and willing for me to fuck you out in the open, where anyone could walk by and see how fucking desperate you are for my cock.”
           “M’ your slut,” you pant as Spencer’s middle and index fingers ghost across your center. “Only yours, Spence. I don’t care who sees, just - please fuck me!”
           “I fucking own you,” Spencer growls against your lips as he tightens his hold on your throat. “And as much as I’d love to take you right against this wall, the things I have planned for you would elicit quite an audience. I know how loud you like to be.”
           Spencer pushes your panties to the side and you let out a low hiss as he drags a finger across where want him most. You cry out in frustration when he removes his hand to bring it up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick his finger clean.
           “Just needed a little taste to tide me over,” Spencer murmurs, smirking devilishly at you as he steps back from you. “Let’s head back to the hotel. I’ve got lots I wanna do to you, pretty girl.”
--
           As soon as the door to the hotel room clicks shut, clothes are flying off as the two of you make your way to the bed. It’s a mad dash as you both undress, and as soon as the last garment leaves your body, Spencer pounces on you. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, and the way you immediately go pliant as Spencer’s mouth works against yours makes him hum appreciatively.
           “Don’t feel like being nice tonight. Are you gonna let me use that pretty little pussy however I want?” Spencer inquires, though he already knows the answer. He’s known how tonight would pan out ever since the first roll of your hips against his back at the police station.
           You nod fervently, hopelessly, and Spencer moves his hand up to grip your chin in his hand. The pad of his thumb traces over the swollen skin of your kiss bruised lips.
           “What about this?” he asks, tapping lightly against your lip. “Are you gonna let me fuck this slutty little mouth of yours?” Spencer slips his thumb into your mouth and you immediately close your lips around the digit, suckling lightly. Your eyes never leave his.
           “You’d do anything I asked you to, wouldn’t you, pet?” Spencer muses, pressing his thumb farther into your mouth until you gag around him. Spencer withdraws his thumb and his hand tugs hard on the hair at the back of your scalp. “Open.”
           You oblige immediately, and Spencer spits into your waiting mouth. You swallow without being instructed, and the visual of it makes Spencer let out a low groan.
           “Get on your knees,” Spencer barks out, and the way you scramble to follow his order makes him let out a chuckle. “So eager to have my cock in your mouth,” he hums as he taps his dick teasingly against your cheek. You open your mouth wide for him, and Spencer guides your mouth down onto his dick at a tantalizingly slow pace. You let out a moan as you hollow your cheeks around his head, tongue lapping greedily at the precum that gathered there before Spencer makes you take him deeper.
           “Everyone thinks you’re such an innocent little thing, but here you are, letting me use you like a cheap whore while you enjoy every minute of it,” Spencer says through gritted teeth as you moan wantonly around his cock. It isn’t until he’s halfway down your throat that your eyes begin to water, mascara running down your cheeks as he fucks into your mouth.
           Spencer lets out a choked sound when your nose brushes against the skin of his abdomen, and he has to fight the urge to throw his head back in pleasure. He doesn’t want to look away, not even for a moment. Not when you’re looking up at him like that, tears running down your face as you swallow around his length.
           He pulls you off him just the tiniest bit before he’s forcing you back down, a string of curses falling from his lips as your head bobs up and down.
           “You take my cock so well, pretty girl,” Spencer praises, prompting you to let out a muffled moan around him. The vibrations send a shock of pleasure through him and he can help the way his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby. You like it when I tell you what a perfect little whore you are, don’t you?”
           You’re unable to answer, because Spencer presses down on the back of your head until you’ve taken all of him again. The pressure he puts on you doesn’t relent, not even when you gag around him.
           “Fucking choke on it, slut,” Spencer grunts. “Don’t act like you don’t want this. You were just begging me to fuck you in an alley not twenty minutes ago, like some pathetic fucking tramp. You wanna act like a tramp, I’m gonna treat you like one.”
           Spencer’s lips curl into a debauched grin when your hands come up and grip the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer and further down your throat.
           “That’s what I fucking thought,” Spencer moans, giving several more harsh thrusts before pulling you off of him completely. Spencer reaches down to wipe at the spit that coats your lips as you look up at him with a shy smile.
           “You okay, pretty girl?” Spencer asks as he caresses the side of your face.
           “Mm,” you hum, nuzzling your face against his palm. “Keep going, please. Don’t hold back.”
           “God, I fucking love you,” Spencer sighs happily. “Get on the bed.”
           By the time Spencer fishes a tie out of his suitcase, you’re sprawled out across the bed, head resting against the pillows with your legs spread wide. Your teeth are nestled against your bottom lip as you watch him stalk towards you, eyes running up and down his naked figure appreciatively.
           Spencer crawls onto the bed until he’s settled in between your legs. You present your wrists to him, just like you’ve done a million times before, and Spencer feels that familiar thrum of excitement rush through his body. He fucking lives for moments like these – moments where all his problems melt away to nothing. Moments where he has no other thought than wrecking you, thoroughly and completely.
           Once your wrists are bound you hold them above you, and Spencer sits back on his heels, eyes raking up and down every inch of you.
           “M’ so fucking lucky to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”
           Spencer pinches your right nipple in between his fingers and you let out a squeak, hips bucking up, desperate for some friction. He kneads your breast in his hand as he lowers his mouth to the other one, tongue laving around you. A light nip from his teeth is all that it takes for you to cry out, eyelids fluttering closed.
           “Spence, please. Need you to touch me now, pl-”
           Spencer’s hand connecting with your cheek stops you from finishing your sentence.
           “Do not tell me what to do,” Spencer seethes, once again gripping your chin to keep you from looking away. “Ungrateful slut. I should just leave you here, fucking dripping and desperate for a release that you won’t get. Maybe then you’d learn to take what’s given to you.”
           “Please, no! I’ll be good, I swear. I’m sorry!”
           Spencer narrows his eyes at you, contemplative.
           “Open.”
           You do as he says, and without another word Spencer inserts two fingers into your mouth, pressing down hard on your tongue.
           “Get them nice and wet, and maybe I’ll think about using them on you.”
           You do as he tells you, and by the time Spencer removes his fingers from your mouth, you’re trembling underneath him from anticipation.
           “D-Did I do good?” you stutter out, batting your lashes at him as you squirm under his gaze.
           “So good, baby. I think you’ve earned my fingers,” Spencer hums. “Need you to be still, okay? You’re not gonna like what happens if you try to move.”
           You nod enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut when his fingers brush across your clit. Spencer spends ample time rubbing deliciously slow circles over your sensitive bundle of nerves, relishing in every gasp and whimper that falls from your lips. Lips that he’d very much like to kiss, so he does, and you’re more than happy to reciprocate. Spencer lets out a happy sigh into your mouth.
           You get lost in the kiss, so lost in the way that Spencer licks into your mouth that it catches you completely off guard when he slides two fingers into you.
           “Oh, God,” you moan when Spencer curls his fingers against your walls, fucking them in and out of you, slow and unrelenting.
           “S’that feel good, princess?” Spencer asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. “Tell me how it feels.”
           Your head falls back against the pillows as you struggle to keep your hips firmly placed on the mattress.
           “Feels amazing, Spence. Always feels so good with you. Never want anyone else, only you.”
           And fuck, if that sentiment doesn’t shoot straight to his heart - amongst other places. Spencer places a tender kiss to your cheek before he’s moving down to your neck and sucking a bruise right under your jaw.
           “Yeah?” Spencer prompts. “Not even that stupid fucking detective? I’m sure he’d love a chance to see you like this.”
           “So, you were jealous,” you chuckle between moans, and Spencer bites down hard where your neck meets your shoulder.
           “F-Fuck, Spencer!”
           “Should I be jealous?” Spencer speeds up the onslaught of his fingers, scissoring them at such an unforgiving pace that you can’t help but roll your hips against them.
           You regret this instantly, because Spencer’s fingers immediately pull out of you, leaving you empty and cold. Spencer tuts, shaking his head disappointedly.
           “Dumb little whore can’t even sit still long enough to cum on my fingers.”
           “Please, let me try again. I’ll do better, I promise!”
           Spencer shakes his head and scoots up until his back is rested against the pillows.
           “C’mere,” he commands. “Lay across my lap. Or can you not follow simple commands?”
           “I-I can,” you whisper as you crawl across him, splaying out so that you rest on your elbows with your ass in the air.
           Spencer grabs a handful of your ass and kneads it in his hands.
           “How many do you think you deserve?”
           You blush and smile shyly at him from over your shoulder.
           “However many you want to give me. I can take it.”
           Spencer returns your smile.
           “Good answer. I think you can handle fifteen. How does that sound?”
           “Sounds perfect. T-Thank you, Spencer,” you mumble, cheeks burning red. Spencer continues to caress the tender skin of your bare ass, admiring the way the skin is completely blank; the perfect canvas.
           You let out a whimper when his hand comes down hard on your ass before kneading the sensitive, reddening skin.
           “T-Thank you,” you gasp out, and Spencer is quick to follow up with another strike against the opposite cheek.
           It goes on like this until it’s time for the fifteenth strike, and by then you’ve devolved into garbled whines, ass bright red and marked up with the imprint of Spencer’s hands. His dick is painfully hard underneath you, and you’re in a similar state – arousal dripping onto Spencer’s thigh, coating it.
           “Last one, baby. Do you think you can handle it?”
          “Y-Yes,” you choke out. “Please, I need it. Hurt me, please.”
           The desperation in your voice does things to him, makes him practically feral with the need to fucking tear you apart, and Spencer is quick to deliver the final blow. You barely even have it in you to cry out anymore – a feeble sob is all that falls from your lips.
          Spencer’s hand ghosts down across your bruised skin until his fingertips trace over where you drip for him.
          “You like it when I punish you, don’t you, dirty girl?” Spencer hums as his fingers glide over your soaked folds. 
          “Y-Yes,” you mewl, shifting so that your cunt grinds back onto his hand. Spencer indulges you - allows you to rock your hips against his palm as he watches on in awe, soaking up every desperate sound that tumbles past your lips. 
          Spencer pulls his hand away after a moment and you keen in protest.
           “Can you sit up for me, sweet girl?” Spencer asks, and you nod, because of course you do – you’d do anything if you thought it’d please him. You struggle to pull yourself up with shaky limbs, and Spencer puts a hand on your lower back to steady you. “Can you straddle my leg? Yeah, just like that.” Spencer pulls you down and places a slow kiss to your lips, one hand coming up to wipe away the tears gliding down your face. After a moment of slow, sweet kisses are shared, Spencer unties your wrists.
           “I want you to ride my thigh – can you do that, princess?”
           You whimper as you lower yourself down onto his leg, eyes fluttering shut as you begin to rock against the hardened muscle of his leg.
           Spencer continues placing kisses on your lips, your face, your neck – worshipping every inch of skin he can reach with his mouth, all while whispering praises against you.
           “So perfect for me. Prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs as he grips your hips with steady hands, urging you to increase the speed of your hips. “Can’t wait to have that perfect pussy wrapped around my cock. Always so tight, yet you take it so well every time.”
           “S-Spence, m’ close,” you slur, hands clinging desperately to his shoulders.
           “Already? You usually last a bit longer than that, baby.”
           “P-Please, Spencer, I can’t-” you whimper, tears once again pricking at the corners of your eyes at the thought of having to wait a second longer.
           “Shh, baby. It’s okay, you can cum,” Spencer reassures you, and your shoulders visibly untense. “Cum for me, pretty girl.”
           It takes two more rolls of your hips for you to cum on Spencer’s thigh with a cry of his name. Spencer rubs soothing circles into your hips as you ride out your high, murmuring broken thank yous as you come down.
           Finally, you still, and your eyes open, pupils so dilated that your eyes look almost black in the dim light of the hotel room.
          “You okay, princess?”
           You give a weak nod.
           “M’great,” you smile, sounding as fucked out as he’s ever heard you. You lean down and slot your mouth against his, and the kiss is slow and languid – soft and unhurried.
            Spencer is the first to pull away.
           “Need you to get on all fours for me,” he instructs. “Don’t think you need to put any pressure on that pretty little ass of yours right now.”
           You giggle at that, before crawling off of Spencer’s lap. You assume the position, and Spencer places a pillow underneath your hips before trailing a line of kisses down your spine. By the time he reaches your ass, you’re writing against him, wiggling your hips eagerly. Spencer places a kiss to both of your bruised cheeks before pulling away.
           You let out a startled oh! when Spencer licks up your center, parting you with his fingers before fucking in and out of you with his tongue.
           “S-Spence, oh my God, yes!” you cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he continues to work his mouth against your core.
           “Love your fucking pussy so much,” Spencer sighs against you, lapping at your clit hungrily. “Could fucking lick you out for hours. You taste so perfect, Y/N.”
            Spencer lets out a filthy groan against you, and that’s all it takes for you to fall over the edge, wrecked moans filling the otherwise silent hotel room. This orgasm hits you both quicker and harder than the first, and he can’t help but smile against you as you rock back against his face, desperate to prolong the sensation. Spencer continues to work you through your orgasm, stopping only when you cease to twitch underneath him.
           “Such a good girl for me. Think you can handle one more?”
            You raise up just enough that you can look at him from over your shoulder.
           “Yes, please,” you beg, voice scratchy and raw. “Please, fuck me.”
           “Yes, ma’am,” Spencer chuckles. “Do you think you can lay on your back? I wanna see that pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”
           You answer by rolling over, wincing slightly when your ass comes in contact with the sheets. You look up at Spencer with wide, doe eyes. You have mascara smeared all down your cheeks and your lips are swollen, and to top it all off, deep, purple love bites are dusted across the entire expanse of your neck and chest. Spencer had set out to mark you as his – so that no one would be able to deny that you belonged to him – and he’d done a spectacular job, if he said so himself.
           “God, you’re so fucking pretty.”
           “Then come fuck me already,” you challenge, looking sated in every possible way – yet still, your eyes hold the same hunger that he’s sure is reflected in his own eyes.
           Spencer leans down and traps your lips in a bruising kiss, and without warning he thrusts in you to the hilt. You cry out into the kiss, startled by the sudden intrusion, but Spencer sets a brutal pace that leaves you no time to recover.
           “You said you wanted me to fuck you,” he growls against your lips. “Now fucking take it.”
           He’s fucking into you so hard that you can’t even manage a reply – you just tighten your legs around his waist and drag your nails across the expanse of his back, no doubt leaving bright red marks in your wake. Spencer can feel his own release fast approaching – honestly, he’s been close ever since the first drag of his tongue against your pussy. And now that he’s finally enveloped into your tight, wet heat, that all too familiar feeling in the pit of his stomach is threatening to consume him.
           Spencer’s hand descends from its place next to your head down to your clit, and your whole body jolts with the first swipe of his thumb. You clench around him as a litany of particularly filthy utterances escapes you, and Spencer’s hips stutter.
           “Fuck, princess,” he groans, head coming to rest on your shoulder as he struggles to regain his rhythm. “You don’t even know what you do to me. You’ve ruined me for anyone else. Never fucking want to lose you. Love you so much.”
           “I love you, I love you, I love you,” you chant into his ear, sounding like some kind of siren, luring him straight to his inevitable ruination. “I’m so close, Spence. Cum with me, please? I want to feel you. Please, baby.”
           “Y-Yeah, fuck,” Spencer chokes out. “Say my name when you cum, princess. Want everyone to know how good I fuck you.”
           And when you cum with a shout of his name, walls pulsating deliciously around his cock, Spencer is quick to join you. He continues to roll his hips against yours as you both ride it out, whispers of almost intelligible affirmations being shared between slow, loving kisses.
           After a moment of post-orgasm bliss, Spencer leaves and returns with a bottle of cocoa butter lotion and a warm, wet rag. You watch on with heavy lidded eyes as he cleans you up, and for a moment, he thinks you’ve fallen asleep. It’s not until he finishes slathering your reddened backside with lotion that you speak again.
           “You shouldn’t be jealous, by the way,” you murmur as he lays down beside you. “You’re it for me, Spencer Reid. I don’t ever want you to doubt that I’m anything less than crazy about you.”
           It’s everything that Spencer’s ever wanted to hear, and just like that, every fear – every insecurity that had plagued him in the past several months – fell away to nothing. Suddenly, he couldn’t remember why he’d ever been worried in the first place.
           “You’re it for me, too,” Spencer whispers as he pulls you until his arms and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.
           “We’re going to have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow, you know,” you remark as you nuzzle into Spencer’s side.
           “Don’t care,” he sighs happily. “I’ll shout it from the roof tops if I have to. I want everyone to know you’re my girl.”
           “You’re a sap, Doctor Reid.”
           “Only for you.”
           A moment of blissful silence passes, before the sound of your growling stomach sets you both into a fit of giggles.
           “We never did get dinner, did we?” Spencer muses as he lightly runs his fingernails across your scalp. You hum appreciatively and a pleased shiver rolls through you.
           “Nope. You were a little too preoccupied with marking your territory to even offer to feed me,” you tease as you run your fingertips down the planes of his chest.
           “Well, now that that’s been taken care of - could I interest you in some takeout?”
          “Possibly,” you sigh, flattening your palm on his chest, right over his heart. “Do you think that pizza place Trevor mentioned delivers?”
          “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.”
          “Is that a no?”
          “... Look up the number.”
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