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#also me: writes 1.4k
stevestark · 18 days
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🎃+ Stranger Things
🎃 - “we accidentally matched costumes and now everyone thinks we’re dating” send me an emoji + a fandom and I'll write you a mini fic!
Steve stares at the clothing Robin has laid out on his bed, a frown on his face. "Seriously, Rob? Do I have to wear this?"
"A bet's a bet, dingus," Robin says. "You're the dumbass who bet me that I couldn't get Vickie to do a keg stand last weekend, and you agreed that if she did, I get to choose your costume."
"Yeah," Steve says, "but a dress?"
"Aww, don't worry, Stevie," Robin croons. "You've totally got the legs for it."
Steve sighs and picks up the dress. "Fine. But I draw the line at makeup. I will not be totally embarrassed in my own home."
Robin cackles with glee and shoves Steve toward his bathroom. "This is going to be amazing."
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
Eddie opens the door to the trailer right as Dustin lifts his hand to pound on it again; "Chill out, dude. I heard you the first time. Knock any louder, and you're gonna crack the windows."
"Sorry," Dustin says, not sounding at all apologetic. "But this hay is really heavy and I still have to go get my costume on for Steve's party."
Eddie grins, taking the armful from Dustin. "Thanks, man. How'd you get your hands on so much anyway?"
Dustin shrugs, and says, "My mom's like, super into crafting these days. She made all our Halloween decorations this year, and this was all her leftovers."
"Sick. Okay, scram, I got it from here. Tell your mom I said thanks."
"Tell her yourself. She's waiting in the car."
Eddie perks up immediately. "I thought you were having Nancy bring you? Why didn't you say Mama Henderson was here?" he asks, running outside to go give Mrs. Henderson a squeeze.
Dustin ambles along behind him muttering the whole time about how everyone always likes his mom more than him.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party starts at 8pm sharp, which naturally means everyone shows up at 8:30; Steve has different music playing in every room, loud enough so you can hear it but not so loud that they drown each other out. He's got a few kegs, and a shitload of soda, and Hopper and Joyce are on their way, prepared to watch the kids to make sure none of them try to sneak any booze.
The doorbell rings, and Robin races him to the door, flinging it open excitedly. All of the kids, plus Joyce and Hopper are gathered on the front walk, chattering excitedly and fawning over each others' costumes.
"Okay, okay," Robin says, "Let's get this party going!" Joyce gives her a hug as she walks in and compliments her Bowie costume, and Hopper grunts as he passes; if Robin had to bet, she'd guess Joyce forced him into their couple's costume of The Dread Pirate Roberts and Princess Buttercup, but they look cute as hell so she doesn't know why he's so mad.
The kids are an eclectic bunch of costumes, with Max and El as the twins from The Shining, Dustin as Marty McFly, Mike, Will, and Lucas as the three male leads from The Breakfast Club; Jonathan and Nancy are dressed as Princess Leia and Han Solo, Argyle is Tommy Chong, and Eddie is...oh my God.
Robin throws back her head and cackles at the sight of Eddie dressed as The Scarecrow. "Oh my God. Oh my God, this is too good."
Eddie makes a dramatic show of stumbling through the door and gives a bow. "I figured I'm already stumbling around all the time, might as well make it work in my favor."
Robin just laughs some more, and drags Eddie into the kitchen, where Steve is explaining the drinks situation to Hopper and Joyce.
Eddie stops dead in his tracks at the sight of Steve in sparkly kitten heels and a knee-length checkered dress. "Holy shit."
Steve stops mid-sentence and looks up at Eddie; "Robin? Now might be a good time for you to run."
Robin darts behind Hopper, grabbing onto the back of his shirt and poking her head around his side. "I swear, Steve, I had no idea."
Joyce and Hopper are fighting back laughter, and Eddie is still staring open-mouthed at Steve.
"So you're telling me we accidentally wore a couple's costume?"
Eddie shakes his head and grins at Steve. "Ah, a true Wizard of Oz connoisseur, acknowledging the long-ignored sexual tension between Dorothy Gale and The Scarecrow."
Hopper actually chokes at that, and tries to mask it as a cough; he reaches behind himself and pulls Robin out from behind him. "So," he says, mirth coloring his tone. "You're the reason Harrington is stumbling around in heels?"
Robin nods, trying not to laugh. "He lost a bet."
Joyce shakes her head fondly and pats Steve on the shoulder. "You've got the legs for it, honey," she says kindly.
"That's what I said!" Robin yells, gesturing at Steve's admittedly toned calves.
"I hate everyone in this kitchen," Steve grumbles, heading to open the door as more guests arrive.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
The party gets underway, and everyone is having a good time; Hopper and Joyce are vigilantly holding court in the kitchen, to the kids' dismay, but Robin just shushes them and passes a single cup of beer for them to pass around. Each of them takes a sip and scrunches their noses, shaking their heads; "That's vile," Max says, spitting her sip back into the cup. Robin grins and gives Steve a thumbs up from across the room; they knew if they gave the kids shitty beer they'd lose all interest in drinking.
Steve is standing with Argyle, who's waxing poetic to him about the impact Cheech and Chong have had on society, and trying to look interested; Eddie is on the other side of the room, debating Star Wars with Jonathan and Nancy; the members of Corroded Coffin are dancing with Robin's band friends, and everyone is having a really good time, which is a welcome relief in the wake of finally defeating the monsters in their town.
───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────
At the end of the night, Hopper and Joyce round up all the kids and drive them home in shifts; Jonathan, Nancy, Argyle, and Eddie are all too tipsy to drive, and have announced they're sleeping over at Steve's to help him and Robin clean up.
As they're doing so, collecting red solo cups and candy wrappers in each room, Eddie sidles up to Steve.
"Surprised you're still wearing the shoes," he says, a sly grin on his face.
"They're not so uncomfortable after wearing them for a few hours," Steve says with a shrug.
"You know," Eddie says slowly. "Everyone was asking me tonight when I finally made a move on you. Nobody seemed to believe we didn't match our costumes on purpose."
Steve laughs softly. "Yeah, I got the same treatment all night."
Eddie inches closer to Steve, crowding him against the dining room table. "Well," he drawls. "Maybe we should take their advice?"
Steve looks sharply up at Eddie. "W...what?"
Eddie lifts his hand to gently fix Steve's Dorothy wig. "I mean, come on, Steve. We spend all our time together anyway. What's the difference in that and just...throwing in a little making out?"
Steve flushes and ducks his head. "Didn't think you were interested."
"Baby," Eddie says, tipping Steve's head back up with a finger under his chin. "I've been flirting with you relentlessly for weeks."
Steve blinks rapidly and then crushes his lips against Eddie's. "Thank god," he says breathlessly when they pull apart. "Kinda pissed I had to wear a dress for you to make a move though."
Eddie laughs, loud and bright. "Steve, you could've worn a burlap sack and I'd still have a hard time not kissing you in front of everyone. I've been dying to do this."
Robin walks in right then and throws her fists up in victory. "FINALLY!" she screeches. "GUYS! It happened!"
"I hate all of you," Eddie and Steve say in unison as everyone runs in, catcalling them.
"Is now a bad time to say I knew what Eddie was dressing as and that Vickie had been practicing her keg stands and that this whole thing was an elaborate plot?" Robin asks, smirking triumphantly.
Steve freezes and narrows his eyes at Robin. "Hopper's not here to protect you now, Buckley," he says, lunging towards her and chasing her through his house as she cackles.
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dumbassv32 · 11 months
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what if
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tendebill · 10 months
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JUST FINISHED CHAPTER 14 OF TPATA!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!! ANOTHER WIN FOR THE LGBT COMMUNITY!!!
i just have to edit the last bit that i just wrote and maybe i could post it??? like tomorrow or in two days??? i dont feel like editing it rn, but i will try tomorrow????
13k words btw :3
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kerstrel · 5 months
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just read the most emotionally damaging fic
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thomine · 9 months
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REVIEW; au august (2023 edition)
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Index
Statistics
Personal Favourites
Updates
Additional Word
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Stats
total works written: 17/31 (54.8%!)
total words written: (not including drafts) around 24.6k words! that's about 1.4k words per story.
longest writing streak: 12 days
longest fic: sincere sins & serious schemes (thoma) @ 2.8k
shortest fic: the unseen (heizou) @ 800
fan favourite: the unseen (heizou) with 74 notes
Personal Favourites
overall: (bias) sincere sins & serious schemes (thoma
worldbuilding: to wish on seafoam (albedo)
plot: in the nick of time (wanderer)
title: the duet of one heart (alhaitham)
writing: foolish logic (tighnari)
potential: cyno & wizards and witches
Updates
changed the title of baizhu's story from (the tug of nature) to (the tug of nurture). swapped diluc's (roommates) with zhongli's (flowershop). changed cyno's 2nd story (magical girl) to another prompt (wizards and witches).
Additional Notes
and... we're done! thank you for tagging along this challenge of writing an au every day. at some point i did get caught up in ensuring my fics had "quality" (i.e day 13) so it became hard to write every day. i'm not too sure how i feel about this development. as much as i believe it's good that i'm trying to stretch my brain to think of the best ways to explore the AU in my head, it goes against the core reason why i embarked on AU august. i simply just wanted to build the habit of writing everyday—good or bad execution, it did not matter. it should not matter.
when it came to thoma's story, i could have shortened it (or compromised in quality) as i did with venti's story, but i stubbornly wanted the story to be told in a specific way that made it harder to write. the same is true with lyney's modern AU.
i talked about proofreading my fics, but i think i want them to stay the way they are—flaws and all—as a reminder of my level when i wrote these stories.
going forward, i've decided to write at least 1 AU august idea once a week. i'm giving mysef leeway this time since the period of challenge is over, and i'm giving myself a week so that i can build the habit of "adding quality" while still writing & not just keeping the ideas in my head.
i'll also try to write & queue some notes i have for each AU. it'll cover some interesting tidbits, potential themes, and how i would coontinue the story from there. if i am inspired and my to-do list allows, i might expand (i.e. rewrite) some of these stories into proper, developed stories.
in the mean time, i will try to get the remainder stories out, focus on a few other wips (i.e. 10 confessions & requests), occasionally weave in some autcom for the AUs, then see if i would expand on any of them.
see you guys next time!
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intoxicated-chan · 1 year
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angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader
and then they make up yayayayay
Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…
Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!
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You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.
“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”
He nods.
“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”
He nods again.
“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”
“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”
“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.
“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”
He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…
“But Mig-”
“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”
He didn’t mean it like that.
“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.
“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.
You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.
You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.
The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.
How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?
This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.
And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.
You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.
You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.
“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.
“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.
“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.
“Yeah.” You huff.
“And… how are you holding up?”
“I’m fine.”
“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.
You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”
“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”
Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?
“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”
“Talk about romantic.”
“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”
“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”
“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.
“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”
“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.
“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”
“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.
You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”
“Bed.”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”
“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.
“You heard me.”
“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.
“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”
“(Y/n)-”
“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”
“I know.”
“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”
“I’m… I’m so sorry.”
“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”
You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”
“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.
“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”
He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.
“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”
“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.
“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”
“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.
“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”
“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.
“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”
You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.
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heyhihellosworld · 4 months
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧
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Lando Norris x reader
Word count: 1.4k Short for once
Warnings: This is only smut, size kink
Notes: This is just.. smut, the first time ever I managed to not write a lot of plot but I still can't skip the plot completely, I don't know why. I got an ick on myself writing this 👽
Request: Size kink? and lando pushing down on her lower stomach when he's inside?!?
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The sun was going down for the day, the soft light lingering on the horizon casting the most beautiful light over the city. The sea just outside of the marina reflecting the pink orange sky. The boats wagging gently in the wind and the low shadows of the city. It was like an artwork, playing just in front of you.
That was how it had all started, you wanting to go out to look at the sunset. Lando had other desires.
He had just about let you watch the last light disappear before he had practically jumped you, hence why you were now sprawled out in his big comfy bed.
Lando had just come home for the summer break and the both of you felt touch starved. It was hard to not be together as much as you would've wanted because of his profession and your studies, but in this moment it was all worth it.
His body on yours felt like home, comforting in a way you had missed deeply the last couple of weeks. His goofy smile, wide eyes and smug little lines could drive you crazy but in this moment you craved it, wanted it all. It was all so Lando it would've felt wrong if sex with him didn't include it by now.
His body covered yours completely, he wasn' the biggest guy, technically. But the way his body bulged with strength and broadness made him feel so much bigger than you. He had filled out even more during the start of the summer, arms insanely hot and his back flexing at every move.
You were gawking even more than usual.
"Fuck you look so pretty" he whispered, one of his hands sprawled over your throat. Not applying any pressure, just using it to tilt your head up as he worked his mouth over your neck with great excitement.
You couldn't help but giggle over his eager mouth, completely devouring the skin you revealed for him. He was so touchy and itchy it was comical.
"Poor baby" you hummed teasingly, one of your hands gently scratching his scalp which made him moan out loud against your skin
It made you giggle even more "Poor baby is all touch starved" you teased further and this time Lando protested, his teeth gently scraping against your skin in warning, hand tightening ever so lightly around your throat and it made you moan softly
It was clear that he wanted to take command tonight, you didn't mind it, not one bit. All kinds of sex with Lando was great. You loved being in command every now and then, loving the way he would submit and beg for you but you also loved letting Lando take that control. It was something so thrilling and exciting about giving away the reins. But regardless if it was hot and rough or just sweet and intimate it was all great. Lando was great, in more areas than sex.
"Don't be a brat" he hummed, licking over the sensitive skin his teeth had grazed over before he worked his way up your jaw again, eyes staring into yours with challenge.
You didn't put up a fight, just pressed your lips against his with a small sound, letting him be in demand, telling him it was okay.
Lando didn't waste any time, his hand on your throat wandering downwards, just momentarily stopping to gently twist your nipples before moving further down.
Your whole body twitched as his fingers made contact with your clit, gently spreading the wetness that'd gathered around.
"All this cockiness whilst you're dripping for me hm?" Lando mocked, one of his fingers sliding into you with practiced movements.
The moan broke in half as it slipped out, your whole body feeling like a tight string as he gently moved the digit inside of you. He watched you with full attention, bottom lip trapped between his teeth. Moving one and then two fingers in the way he knew drove you insane.
Your patience ran out quickly, your eyes telling him that much but he only chuckled, waving you off and adding a third finger. The feeling was nice, real nice but you wanted something else and he knew exactly what. But of course, this was Lando, he would touch you and tease you and prep you for how long he wanted to. He loved to be in charge just as much as you did, and he loved it even more when he had to fight for it.
To your happiness Lando was not his most patient self tonight either so rather soon he slipped his fingers out, unceremoniously dragging them over the sheet to get the wetness off. You would nag him about it if you weren't so needy for him.
It felt better than ever when he stilled inside you, stretching you to a point near too much but just on the edge. Your eyes fluttered as his body covered yours again, pressing into your body making you feel smaller than you actually were.
The words, your so big itched on your tongue but even in your high state you couldn't bring yourself to say it out loud even if that was the only thought in your head right now.
"Taking it so good" he murmured, moving gently as his hand rested on your hip "you always do"
The words made you spiral, a soft moan leaving your swollen lips and he grinned down at you.
He gradually picked up his pace, soon enough slamming inside of you with such force that made your eyes roll. His hands rubbed over your stomach, touching over the place he knew you could feel him. Smirking cockily "You are so fucking tight baby, bet I could feel myself inside of you pretty"
You moaned at his muttered filth, arching into his hold with a soft moan. When you felt his hand press down on your stomach you spiraled even further, eyes fluttering as your mouth hung open. You opened your eyes just enough to see how Lando threw his head backwards, moaning softly before his head fell forward again
"Fuck, even tighter like this"
His words made your whole body tingle, squirming from the overwhelming pleasure and sensations. His thrusts felt never ending.
"Tell me how good you feel” he muttered breathily but you were too enraptured in the pleasure to even recognise his words. "Y/n" he warned, gently wrapping one of his large hands around your throat again, not putting pressure just holding there to get your attention "Tell me" he muttered "how good you feel"
A pornographic whine left your mouth, feeling like your brain couldn't catch up. "So good Lan" you moaned, hoping he didn't want more than that cause there were no more coherent words on your tongue.
He didn't, too wrapped up in the feelings to actually care about the words, just wanting to hear something from you.
He was close, you knew it in the way he tensed in his shoulders, his breathing even more ragged then before and hips stuttering slightly.
When you finally tipped over the edge, with Lando close behind it felt like your whole body, strung on that tight rope, finally snapped. Relief taking its place, spreading through your veins in a way that made your whole body go limp.
Lando collapsed on top of you with a groan, breathing heavier than when he was doing his insane workout routine, something you would poke fun at him for if it wasn't for how exhausted you felt.
"Okay?" Lando mumbled after a moment, sliding down next to you with a low grumble, his face pressing into your neck, hugging you close.
"Perfect" you mumbled back, nuzzling back into your boyfriend's soft skin as you both drifted off to sleep, cleaning up was tomorrow's problem.
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chahnniesroom · 1 month
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to have and to hold
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pairing: bang chan x female reader
summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.
word count: 1.4k
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!
a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 
Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.
Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.
“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”
“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.
“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”
“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.
“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”
“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 
“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”
“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”
“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”
Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.
Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.
Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 
When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.
“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.
“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”
Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.
Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball,
some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.
He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.
“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.
Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.
“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”
“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”
Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.
“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”
He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.
 It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.
“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”
By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.
Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.
When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 
After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.
Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.
When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.
That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 
“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”
“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”
“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.
“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist
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l0v3tast3 · 1 year
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i need pervy older bf konig :(
good god. bro you and i are both so lucky i had today off. this was some good shit to write thank you very much for requesting this ( ◡‿◡ *) also ngl i really think i just don't know how to write characters not being possessive. it's just in my dna
✎ tags: mdni!, smut, female reader, age gap (reader is 18/19, könig is mid-40's), mentioned loss of virginity, corruption/innocence kink, size difference, size kink, pet names, free use, posssessive!könig, exhibitionism, mention of violence (reader gets turned on by it dw), edging, dacryphilia, bondage, praise kink, reader calls könig "sir"
✎ word count: 1.4k words (not proofread)
✎ translations: "hase" = bunny , "liebling" = darling "mein schatz" = my darling/sweetheart , "mein herz" = my heart "mein kleiner hase" = my little bunny (please correct me if anything is wrong, i'll edit it whenever i get the chance!)
masterlist | requests
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✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who is just obsessed with his darling little girlfriend. he loves everything about you, how small you are against him, how easy you are to manhandle and twist around, so happy to just have him touch you however he wants. how you always crane your neck up to look at him with such adoration in your pretty eyes, even when he makes you do the nastiest things for him.
✧ ˖ ° ever since the first time he sunk into you, your first time where you couldn't even take his whole dick (it took you a few rounds to fit it all in), he just can't get enough of you. the whimper when he pops his fat head through your tiny hole, how you dig your nails in and gasp for breath the further he pushes in, it's straight up addicting to him. könig's favorite thing is seeing you fall deeper and deeper into the pleasure he gives you, seeing you become more and more corrupted by his huge hands and cock.
✧ ˖ ° he's got such a kink for your innocence and naivety; his heart skips a beat every time you think it can't get any better, and then it does and your little body doesn't even know how to handle it. könig will try every position, every kink his expansive mind can come up with with you.
✧ ˖ ° it always starts with him pulling you over one of his thighs (it strains your legs too much to try and sit over both of them without his help) and him dragging your hips back and forth across it. his hands cover the entire expanse of your thighs and the globes of your ass, fingertips digging in until it's just on the edge of bruising. always soaking up your little whimpers, how you dig your nails into his shoulders and hide your face in his chest. "hase, my little bunny, does that feel good? look at me, liebling, answer me. always so shy when i have you like this. it feels good, yes? are you going to cum for me? heh, what is it, you need more, liebling? ask me nicely for more, then."
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who steals your underwear and most of the clothes you pack when you come over and pretends to have no idea where it all went. oh well, guess you'll just have to wear his clothes! it's such a shame that you don't have any underwear left until he does the laundry that he keeps "forgetting" about. it's so sad that you have nothing clean left to wear except his t-shirts that almost reach your knees.
✧ ˖ ° he just loves being able to come up to you in the kitchen, lift you up onto the island counter and run his hands up your thighs until his thumb covers your clit. you always get so squirmy when he does that, bucking your hips into his hand and clawing at his arm. könig chuckles and teases you about how needy you are for him, how you're such a dirty little girl for walking around with no underwear. "don't you know how men are, mein schatz? they'll snatch you up every chance they get," he mutters in your ear, the hand that wasn't shoving two fingers into you gripping your hip to keep you still.
✧ ˖ ° when you start stuttering out little pleas and fumbling with his belt he relents. he pushes you flat against the counter and kneels to lick a sloppy stripe up your pussy, never forgetting his dedication to not hurting you (not in a way you didn't like, at least). and when he's finally lifting your hips up to line up your sopping hole with his dick, he tells you how much of a good girl you are for letting him use you like this, whenever he wants.
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who gets off on having you sit on his lap in public; in front of anyone, really. könig knows that his overwhelming size and heavy stare makes him live up to his name of "king", and having a pretty little thing like you in his lap just completes the picture. he doesn't admit it, but you know it's an ego boost for him every time.
✧ ˖ ° it just makes him so happy to have you so close! he tells you it helps him with his social anxiety, having you there to calm him down. especially when he invites over his friends, other colonels and military men. könig knows you always feel out of place, feeling like you're going to hear something you shouldn't. he just coos reassurances in your ears and rubs his hands up and down your thighs, fingertips grazing just below the hem of the pretty dress he had asked you to put on. "relax, hase, it's okay for you to be here. mein schatz, mein herz, you know i would never let anyone harm you. i would break their neck before they even came close."
✧ ˖ ° you somehow always end up trying to discreetly white-knuckle his wrist that's buried between your legs. könig plays poker with the rest of the men, pretending very well that three of his fingers aren't knuckle deep inside you. everyone knows, they grow to expect it at this point. you're just so obvious, squirming and glancing up at him anxiously and trying desperately to cover up the tiny moans you let out. then he'll finally lean down and whisper in your ear, telling you to be good and cum; you can't possibly hide the way you shake and arch your back or the choked whimpers. but the men carry on with their game, barely sparing a second glance at you (they still shift in their seats, sneak a hand down to readjust), talking amongst themselves.
✧ ˖ ° "you see, mein kleiner hase, they know to not even look at you too long. they know you're mine, just well as you do, right?" könig says lowly while he wipes his fingers off on your thighs. he's pulling you closer to him so you can feel the outline of his hardon pressed against your ass. you nod and mumble a little "yes, sir" and he pats your stomach where he's holding you against him. "good girl. don't worry, liebling, we are almost done here. i'll stuff you full soon enough, just be patient a little longer."
✧ ˖ ° pervy older boyfriend!könig who always has nothing but praise for you except for when you act up. he wasn't the kind of man to take insubordination lightly usually; you couldn't be if you wanted to be a colonel. instead of his usual punishments (making subordinates run suicides until they dropped) he likes tying you down and edging you until you're sobbing for him to let you cum, to untie you, anything.
✧ ˖ ° it's not that he enjoys seeing you cry (he loves it in this context), he just needs to teach you a lesson, to make sure you know your bratty actions have consequences. it just brings könig so much joy to reduce you to a brainless, overstimulated mess, whining pleas between hiccups and gasps for air. hearing you cry out, "no- nono please könig, please sir m'sorry, m'so sorry! ha-a- please, please let me cum, m'sorry, please-", is like an angel's choir to his ears. he knows you think he's being cruel and unfair, but könig is always going easy on you. you still are his sweet little girl, after all, he could never hurt you too much!
✧ ˖ ° he won't let up though until he's making you say whatever nasty things he wants, until you're so desperate that you completely forget about being shy. "have i taught you your lesson, hase? hm, i don't know if you have yet. tell me what you want- i know you want to cum, liebling, what do you want me to do about that? you want me to fuck you? ask properly, tell me you want my thick cock in your tiny pussy. you need it, don't you? tell me you need it, you need to feel me deep inside you. hah, alright mein kleiner hase, i believe you. it's alright, shh, mein herz, you did so well for me, let me reward you now."
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soobnny · 1 year
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kiss me — lee minho.
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trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy
synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day
word count. 1.4k words
warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more
note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it
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You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.
He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.
Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.
With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.
Like right now.
It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.
Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”
His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.
It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.
“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”
It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.
“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.
The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.
You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.
And then it all clicks.
You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.
And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.
Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.
A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.
He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.
But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.
“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.
There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.
“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.
He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.
“Want me to kiss you?”
“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.
“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”
“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.
The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.
He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.
“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.
His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.
“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.
He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.
A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.
“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.
“I love you too.”
“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.
“I do. A lot.”
“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”
And you do.
Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.
He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.
And only ever for you.
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five minutes | l.m.h
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pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... established relationship, disgustingly fluffy, excessive references to soondoongdori, minho is a cat personified, soft mimo!
operation put your boyfriend to sleep in five minutes is a go.
wc... 1.4k words a/n... ah, yet another domestic fluff fic featuring softy minho. a star specialty! sorry guys this is kinda my fav thing to write ever r u sick of me 😁 anywayz this was inspired by this soft thought and this tiktok like i saw it and immediately thought : lee minho.
ALSO ALSO! HUGE THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS! i never would've thought i'd reach this milestone and words couldnt express how incredibly grateful i am for each and every one of you who read and enjoy my works <3 i love you guys thank you so much!
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
Minho turned the doorknob and pushed the front door open, greeting Soonie who stood by the entrance with a tilted head. Shutting the door, he hung his bag on the coat rack and bent down to pet his beloved cat’s chin.
“Hi, baby,” the cat nuzzled his head into Minho’s palm and circled around his arm, “where are your brothers, hm?”
Meow… Soonie walked off to the living room as if to answer Minho’s question. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he followed his cat toward the faint nose of your favorite series playing on the TV.
When he entered the room, Minho saw your figure strewn lazily across the couch. Dori was cuddled up against your chest and Soonie hopped up to join Doongie by your feet. His heart warmed at the sight of his loves all huddled together.
“Honey, I’m home,” Minho grabbed your attention with his gentle, sing-song tone, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.
You switched your attention from the screen in front of you to the man standing in the doorway, returning his smile and giving a small wave. “Hi, my love. How was your day?”
Minho padded over to you, scooped Dori up against his chest, and settled himself where the cat had previously taken solace in your arms.
“It was alright,” he said, scooching backward to press his back firm against your front. “Tiring, as usual, but it's fine.”
Though he couldn't see it, you nodded in acknowledgment and pressed a soft kiss to his head. You brought one hand up behind his ear to scratch at his scalp, something you had found he enjoyed.
“Do you want to go to bed already? It is pretty late.” From its place above the TV, the clock read 10:37 PM. “Maybe we should move our little cuddle session to the bedroom.”
Minho sighed and shook his head. “But, I'm already so comfy here. Plus, you wouldn't dare disturb the cats, would you?”
“Please, remember the last time we slept on the couch the whole night? I don’t think we want that happening again.”
“Y/n,” Minho called your name, dragging out the last syllable. “My back hurts so much! Remind me why we stayed on the couch again.”
“I told you we should have moved to the bed! But you wouldn’t listen to me,” you snickered at your boyfriend from the kitchen while you continued to whisk a couple of eggs for your breakfast.
You set the bowl down on the counter and walked over to Minho who was still lying on the couch. When you came into his sight, he made a show of stretching his arms and legs, akin to a cat, accompanied by a few exaggerated groans.
“I don’t think I can get up at all today. I should just call in sick,” Minho draped an arm over his face, letting the other fall limp over the edge of the cushion.
“Don’t you have an important meeting today? I doubt your boss would appreciate you missing that on account of an 'ouchy' back.”
“Well, maybe if you gave me more cuddles, I’d feel a bit better.” Minho peeked at you from under his arm, proposing this cute, yet slightly impractical, solution. “Unless you want me to miss work and stay at home with you today.”
“Alright, you big baby.” Rolling your eyes, you moved to straddle Minho’s lap, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Now chest to chest, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting the other one snake up his neck to play with the hairs at his nape.
The time you spent wrapped in each other’s warmth turned from seconds to minutes, the comfortable silence lulling you back to sleep. Minutes turned to hours, leaving Minho’s meeting unattended and the scrambled eggs forgotten on the kitchen counter.
“Ugh, at least give me five more minutes,” Minho offered as he continued to stroke Dori’s back, drawing a vibrating purr from the cat. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”
“Oh, come on, you have to brush your teeth anyways. Now get your lazy bum off the couch so we can cuddle on the bed.” You grabbed the throw pillow from behind your back and swung it at Minho’s side, accidentally startling Dori in the process. The cat jumped out of the man’s arms, causing him to throw a frown over his shoulder.
��Now look what you did! You’re scaring our babies.” Finally, Minho stood up, offering you his hand to pull you up as well. You met his hand with your own and anchored yourself up, giving him a sheepish smile.
“Oops.” You shrugged and skipped off to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend with your three cats in the living room.
“Unbelievable.” Minho took a few steps towards the bathroom, paused, and turned back to look at his cats. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”
While your boyfriend finished his night routine, you lay on your shared bed and grinned to yourself. Operation Put Your Boyfriend to Sleep in Five Minutes was a go. You knew Minho was tired, and you wanted to send him off into a good night’s sleep in the most loving way you could.
The hallway light switched off as Minho opened the door to your bedroom, sporting a playful frown. It was time for Step One: Put him in a blanket.
“Come here, baby,” you peeled the duvet back and patted the space on the bed right next to you, beckoning your pouty boyfriend over to you. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?”
Trudging over to his side of the bed, Minho slid onto the mattress and pulled the heavy duvet over his body. Freshly washed, the warm, lavender-scented blanket immediately soothed his senses.
“You could’ve at least stayed with me while I brushed my teeth,” Minho continued to pout as he turned on his side to face you, “and, I don’t know, given me a back hug or something.”
Though his tone was playful, you recognized the look in Minho’s gaze. He yearned for your comfort, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Reaching over, you cupped his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. You peppered a few pecks on the corners of his mouth, kissing his pout away. Perfect timing for Step Two: Give reassuring pets.
“I’m here now, it’s okay.” His hair was soft in between your fingers as you threaded them through the fluffy locks. They smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo.
Tired, Minho let out a yawn, nose scrunched and eyelids shut. He leaned into your touch, humming contently.
Faintly, the door creaked open and you could hear light thuds on the carpeted floor, followed by a slightly louder thud on the bed as Doongie entered the bedroom and jumped up to join you. He stepped all over Minho’s body—drawing out a quiet yelp from the man beside you. You giggled as Doongie finally plopped down on Minho’s pillow, snuggling against the top of his head. This brought you to Step Three: Tuck him in.
With your boyfriend lying under the covers, you hooked one leg over him, moving your hand on his head to tuck it into your neck, cradling his body with no intent to stop any time soon.
For a second, the universe felt still. It was as though the ever-rotating hands on the clock had stopped moving, pausing to witness this intimate moment between you and Minho; as if even the angels in the skies above didn’t want this sweet gesture to end.
That was until Minho decided to take matters into his own hands and execute Step Four: Put one arm out for temperature regulation.
“It's too warm!” Minho whined into your neck, breaking the silence, and removed one arm from under the blanket, exposing it to the cold air. “Ah, that's better.”
He turned on his side and wrapped his now free arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, if that were even physically possible.
Seeing your bodies pressed flush against each other, Soonie—who was previously lounging at the foot of the bed—crawled up the sheets and nuzzled into the barely-there gap between you and Minho, with Dori following suit.
Within five minutes of lying down, the night ended with your small family cuddled together on the warm, cozy bed, basking in each other’s comfort.
⋆。゚☁︎。⋆。 ゚☾ ゚。⋆
taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @forlix @mires-empire @quesweebs
comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023
1K notes · View notes
daisyvisions · 7 months
Text
✦ Day 26 - Corruption
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⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Pervy! Bestfriend Sunwoo x innocent!reader
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 1.4K
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), corruption kink, slight manipulation (if you squint, don't read if triggering), dry humping, unprotected sex, a very pervy and kinda possessive sunwoo, ass grabbing, pet name (sweetheart, baby), let me know if I missed anything!
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: had to change the whole theme and plot for this one since I really couldn’t think at all on how to write it out BUT I still hope you like it! Wish I had more time to write it out better but here we are. This was also a combination of 3 asks that I haven't gotten to answering so here it is 😮‍💨 Proofread once
‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet
✦ Kinktober Masterlist ✦
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Sunwoo loved touching you.
The way your soft hands would hold his, how you would lean your head on his shoulder, the feeling your body pressed up against his as he embraced you, he loved it all.
He loved it a little too much actually. So much to the point he thought about wanting to touch you in other places he shouldn’t be touching.
It was wrong, he knew that. But he couldn’t help himself.
He’d been dying to get his hands on you ever since you’ve become friends. But it was hard when your were such a sweet innocent little thing. He didn’t want to scare you off if he suddenly did it.
Sunwoo had to find a way to touch you. But how?
Suddenly, he remembered that it was your birthday coming up. And by coincidence he also happen to stumble upon an ad on his phone that made him grin from ear to ear.
He was gonna finally have his way with you.
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“Come out sweetheart, let me see.”
“But Sunwoo I’m shy… are you sure this is okay?”
“As long as it’s on you I’m sure it’ll look beautiful I promise” You hear his muffled reassurance from behind the bathroom door.
When your best friend he had a surprise for you on your birthday you were not expecting this kind of gift at all…
You take a look at yourself for a moment, soaking in how your soft body looks covered in this really pretty laced lingerie set. He doesn’t even hide the fact that the tent in his pants are twitching just seeing you like this.
You took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled before opening the door to reveal your barely covered body.
“Sweetheart… you look fucking gorgeous.” Sunwoo says, soaking every inch of your body as he looks at you up and down. Your cheeks start to grow warm from the way he looks at you.
“Come here, I wanna take a closer look.” He motions you with his hand. You try to shield your body with your arms as you walk towards him sitting on the edge of your bed.
Sunwoo grabs you by the wrists and pulls you to straddle his lap, one hand tracing the patterned laced on your bra as the other hand rests on your lower back.
Your breath hitches at his bulge slightly nudging your core, making you feel something strange growing at the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck just look at you… I could almost eat you up-” His hands now slowly roaming your body, trying to make you ease into his touch.
When he shifts his position for a moment, you feel his bulge nudge you again. You let out a very faint whimper by accident, eyes growing wide from embarrassment.
But all you could see was Sunwoo’s mischievous smirk, knowing exactly what you’re feeling at this moment.
“What’s wrong sweetheart?” He holds your chin up to look into your eyes as his other hand starts massaging your ass.
“C’mon, you can always tell me.” He whispers.
“I feel k-kinda weird...” You whisper back.
“Where does it feel weird? Point it out to me-” He asks. You start to become shy at first, wondering if this is something your best friend should even know about. You slowly move your hand to direct his gaze at your core.
“Oh, I see. So… if I move you like this-” Sunwoo places both hands on your waist and pulls you forward, making your core rub against his bulge once again. You gasp at the feeling as it nudges your core even deeper.
“Y-yeah. I don’t know what it is.” You look at him with worried eyes.
“Sweetheart, it’s not a weird feeling at all. It should feel good… Does it feel good for you?” He continues to slowly rock your hips back and forth, making you nod your head as you bite your bottom lip.
“You wanna know something?” He asks. You tilt your head slightly curiously.
“It feels really good for me too…” He groans, pushing your hips down to make you grind on him further. You moan at the sensation it brings you, even the way Sunwoo’s strong hands hold you down.
As Sunwoo continues to help you grind yourself onto his crotch, you can’t help but stare at his plump lips. Without thinking, you impulsively peck them. Your eyes grow wide as you just realized what you’ve done.
“Sunwoo I- I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have-” your apology is cut off as he kisses you back. His lips attacking yours aggressively as he moves your hips faster.
You pull away from him for a moment, trying to catch your breath as he leans forward to kiss your chest.
“Sunwoo wait-” He doesn’t listen as he licks and sucks the top of your breasts.
“We can’t. T-this is something only boyfriends do-” Now that phrase is what gets him to stop.
“But friends can do this too sweetheart, didn’t you know?” He looks at you like it’s a well known fact.
“And it’s even better because I'm your best friend. Best friends are supposed to help each other right?” He pouts as he rubs circles on the dips of your hips.
“Y-yes…” You stutter. Still worried that what you feel for him might drive him away.
“And it looks like we both have a problem down there. I can help us both. Do you trust me?” You feel his bulge growing harder as you nod in response.
“I’ll make you feel good sweetheart, I promise. Just keep this between us okay?” He kisses you before unbuckling his pants to lower them enough to his knees.
He wastes no time pushing your hips down again on his hard bulge, the friction of his covered cock nudging your sensitive bud is even more pleasurable as the layers of clothing between you have lessened.
“Feels s-so good…” You mindlessly mumble as pleasure takes over your senses.
Sunwoo’s hands grab your ass harshly, making you whine from the slight sting but it turns you on even more. You moan his name as you feel an unfamiliar sensation growing in your abdomen.
“That’s it sweetheart, use my cock.” He groans.
Your hips roll on their own as they move faster, trying to reach that peak you’re desperately craving. He crashes his lips onto yours, tongues moving together so erotically.
You don’t even have time to process what’s going on until you suddenly hit your orgasm, making you bite his bottom lip out of impulse.
“Fuck I need to be inside you right now. Can I? Fuck- please let me fuck you-” He moans.
“But is that oka-”
“As long as we’re helping each other right?” He asks, his thumb grazing your bottom lip.
“O-okay. Just… it won’t hurt right?” You look at him with worried eyes.
“Just a little, but it will feel so good. Gonna fill you up so good sweetheart I promise-” He fumbles as he slightly lifts his hips to pull down his boxers, kicking them to the side as he pulls your panties to the side. Your mouth waters at the sight of his leaking cock, eager to know how it will feel inside in a few moments.
Sunwoo helps you lift your hips, tugging at the base of his member as he aligns himself at your entrance before slowly lowering you down.
You start to feel the head stretch out your walls, whining at the pain as he bottoms out into you. He gives you a moment to adjust before he slowly grabs your waist again to drag your hips back and forth as his cock gliding inside your tight walls.
“I-feel so full-” You whine, wrapping your arms around his neck as you try to roll your hips yourself.
“Doing so good sweetheart.” Sunwoo kisses your neck.
“Fuck- gonna ruin you for everyone else. Got that? After this I can only fuck you-” He growls in your ear, slapping your ass as he bites your earlobe. You nod in response.
He wraps his arms around your waist and thrusts himself up into you. Pounding his member so deep that you practically feel all of him.
“Gonna make you mine baby. All mine.” He groans against your lips.
All the sensations happening at the moment numb your head, feeling yourself drift away to the point you don’t even realize you’re cumming on his cock, moaning his name like a prayer.
You thank him profusely. You don’t even know why you’re thanking him but you do. He smirks at you as he caresses your cheek and leaves a kiss on your forehead,
“That’s what friends are for…”
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seiwas · 8 months
Text
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₊˚⊹。—will i ever bring you peace? | gojo satoru
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wc: 1.4k
summary: gojo can’t give you a quiet life. no matter what. 
contains: written with f!reader in mind but no pronouns are used, hurt/comfort, jealous!gojo, more of gojo’s internal thoughts, mentions of an oc, gojo deserves all the luvin!!
a/n: split this into two parts: the first half (the prev part), lighter and more central to reader’s perspective, while the second half (this one), darker, and more central to gojo’s perspective. best read after ‘so this is what it means to be in love’ because there are some references made! reading the other parts, while not necessary, will add more to the experience (some references are made)! song i listened to while writing this was peace by taylor swift! 
collection masterlist: conversations on love 3.5a. this feeling inside of me— <- you are here -> +04. take my time (i'll spend it all on you)
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“Would you ever want a quiet life?” 
The pond below you ripples as the koi fish swims away. 
You turn to face Gojo, hands hanging over the bridge railing, remnants of soft youth in his cheeks at 24. 
“I’d say it’s pretty quiet right now.” he answers, signature teasing lilt to his tone. He gestures around him, focusing your attention to how tranquil it is right now—sun beaming and the sound of nature in birds chirping and water trickling.
You roll your eyes; it’s always the distractions and non-answers with him. 
The silence between you is the product of years spent getting closer to reach this point; a silence of knowing that gives Gojo the space and time to reveal things on his own. 
“You already know my answer to that.” he says after a while, looking back down to the pond beneath you. 
And you do—with his small smile, almost resigned. There’s no point thinking about it. Just like when you’d asked him about love. It’s just not meant for him. 
“Would you?” he throws the question back at you, turning to you when he asks it. 
It’s a silly thing, to let hope like this bloom; you both know it’s well past that point now, too deep into chasing his vision for the future of jujutsu society—but it’s free to dream, right?
“I would, I think. Some peace from all this.” 
.
.
.
Gojo’s starting to hate that sinking feeling in his stomach lately—knots twisting before they burst into fits of pop! pop! popping!
It’s uncomfortable and annoying, seemingly getting worse the more he sits in these political meetings with you and ‘Kazuo’—or whoever this politican is, pulling your seat for you and making you laugh; the gentleman etiquette. He even lets you call him by his first name. 
There’s a slight tic to Gojo’s brow as he sits across you, leaning on the back of his chair with his arms crossed and leg propped up on the other. Obviously, you’re just being nice, nodding and smiling as you listen to Kazuo run through the document for this meeting beside you. 
But it still makes Gojo ache. 
He hasn’t been to many of these meetings, but he’s gathered enough to know what kind of guy this Kazuo is: well-dressed, good smile, good teeth–all things he has himself–but also, a gentleman, good-natured and hardworking, kind and gentle, and most of all at peace. Rumor has it that he’s looking to settle down soon, away from the politics to a nearby town just on the outskirts of the city—not too far but also not too close.
Seeing you smiling with him now just brings it back, that conversation you had years ago at 24 gnawing at him. 
“Would you ever want a quiet life?” you had asked, and when he threw it back to you—
“I would, I think. Some peace from all this.” 
It aches.
.
Gojo waits for you at the end of the meeting, watching as you and Kazuo continue to exchange pleasantries. He knows there isn’t anything to it, but there’s that knot in his stomach again, pop! pop! popping! and it worsens when he hears the secretaries gush about how you and Kazuo look so compatible, perfect—fit to get married. 
How disrespectful to your relationship, Gojo thinks. 
He huffs, quiet enough not to cause a scene but loud enough for you to hear him—to know that he isn’t in the mood for any of this. And in the perfect way you’ve synced yourself to him all these years, you smoothly transition into giving Kazuo your well wishes, accepting his handshake as your eyes meet with Gojo’s for him to do the same. 
When you both step out of the room, you make sure to hold his hand tightly, surely, in all the loving ways, but he grips back only lightly, leaving a small space–that infinity–between your palms on the way back home today. 
.
When Gojo thinks about it, it isn’t even because he’s lacking. He’s worked hard and continues to do so everyday, treating you well, loving you in the ways you deserve. 
But will it truly ever be enough? 
How can it be when you deserve more, so much more than this life you’ve been chained to since you were young?
Jujutsu society has been so rough to the both of you, that he thinks you, out of all people, deserve at the very least, some peace. Now that his vision is turning into a reality, maybe you can take a step back and afford a little more leniency. 
A good life, with a good partner, who will love you in peace. 
Someone like Kazuo.
Not him.
The thought is unusual; Gojo’s never really been one to feel insecure, but he thinks that, when you love someone this much, you’ll always want the best for them, even when you realize that the best might not be synonymous to being yours. 
Gojo can’t give you a quiet life. 
No matter what. 
Who he is is so intrinsically linked to this society and the direction it's taking that it’ll follow him wherever he goes.
He sinks deeper into his pillow. 
“You okay?” you come out of the bathroom, dressed in the matching pajama set you both got a few weeks ago—his, buried somewhere in the mishmash of your laundry clothes.
The thought sears itself into his mind, how your lives now are so intertwined.
He doesn’t answer. 
How can he ever let this go?
It aches. Again. 
The bed dips as you get into it, lifting up the comforter to snuggle into him. His back is facing you, unmoving, but your heart beats against the warmth pressed to your chest. 
You hope he feels it, how it’s for him. 
“Wanna let me in your head a little?” you wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling your nose at the nape of his neck. You use the same body wash but Gojo has always retained a scent that is distinctly his own—a bit sweet like the strawberries he loves eating and something close to baby powder, as unassuming as it may be. 
His breath hitches before he starts fiddling with your fingers resting on his waist. He’s biting his lips, you know. 
“Do you still want a quiet life?” he mumbles, almost a whisper. You wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t so pressed up against him. 
You’re confused, a little shocked, but mostly confused because where did this come from?
Gojo holds his breath, waiting for your answer. He can’t turn to look at you when you do, afraid that what he’ll find—what you’ll want, won’t be something he can give you. 
“Doesn’t sound too bad, I guess.” you answer, lips tickling his skin. He can’t release his breath; it’s the answer he’s been dreading. 
There’s silence, a stretch that feels too long but only spans a few seconds. His mind plays an endless loop; the single thought that that isn’t the life he can give you.
Should he break up with you?
How is he supposed to tell—
“I like this life now better though, with you.” you squeeze him tighter, kissing the side of his neck that you can reach. 
He stiffens in your hold, but you can feel the thrums of his heartbeat. It comes slowly, but he releases the breath he was holding before relaxing a bit, something you hope is from relief.  
“You sure?” he asks, trying to sound teasing, but you hear through it. Of course you do.
“You’ll be stuck with me forever, you know.” 
You can swear he sniffled. 
“Doesn't sound too bad to me.” 
He shifts, turning to face you, and when he sees you—
—it’s like falling in love with you again, he thinks. 
The ache is still there, but it’s different, replaced by something burning, almost bursting; the feelings he can’t contain—he wants to say it: I love you; thank you for loving me, but the words are lodged in his throat and his eyes are watering, collecting like pools of rain along his lash line before spilling. 
Gojo doesn’t cry often, but when he does, you try to kiss away every hurt, every pain, that comes with it. So there, by his eyes, are your lips, soft and tender, kissing away his tears as you cradle him to your chest, letting him hug you for however long he needs to be held like this. 
It’s relief, he wants to tell you, that you don’t have to worry; these are good tears—grateful that he gets to have you in this life because you like it better. 
But there’s no pressure, there never is with you—you’ve always been like that. You don’t question him right now, trusting that he’ll tell you all about it tomorrow like he always does. 
For now, all you want to do is hold him, quiet down all the noise in his head and keep him right by your heart, loving him close.
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a/n: the first and second part wouldn’t have fit in tone if i put them in one fic, so i split them! the first part is lighter and just overall good vibes if you're up for that!
thank you notes: to niku @stellamancer for listening to me and being there when i seriously needed it writing this!! & to dilly and somi my bbgirls!! @crysugu @soumies for always cheering me on, especially during the slump!!
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comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡
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inkdrinkerworld · 22 days
Note
hello!! could you write about spencer catching sunshine reader during a sad time? like perhaps reader has very rarely shown spencer what she gets like when shes sad, so when he catches her, she is stubborn at first and doesn't want to open up, but eventually eases into it? thank you :))
Cw: mentions of parents venting to their kids, being sad
Wc: 1.4k
You’re not sure what you'd done to deserve a day like today exactly, only that you’d woken up and from the very first moment you’d had a hard time of it.
Your planned outfit had a stain, you forgot to make extra dinner to have for lunch, you cut your ankle shaving and then your mom called.
Calls with her have a habit of being fifty fifty. It can either be a good call, or it can be a call where she uses you as a sounding board for all her negative thoughts, worries and despite the many times you’ve told her to stop, she hasn’t.
It’s safe to say by the time you walk into work you don’t even have the energy to smile- you’re using it all not to cry.
Not even your back up outfit is working it's magic- a green top with brown pants, your favourite outfit to feel like a hobbit.
Emily calls you into the round table room as soon as you walk in, giving you a little more reason to avoid Spencer’s curious gaze.
Spencer doesn’t really take into account just how bad your mood is till you volunteer to stay in Quantico with Penelope rather than go out in the field.
“Y/n?” He touches your elbow gently as the rest of the team go for their bags. It’s just you and him in the round table room and your hands shake from holding back tears.
Spencer hasn’t ever seen you this upset, sure during a case you’re mad at the things you guys read and uncover, but this is a different type of upset and Spencer doesn’t really know what to do with it.
He just knows he wants to make it better.
“Yeah Spence?” You try to keep your voice even, knowing he’ll only worry more and the case needs his worry more than you do.
“What’s going on? You haven’t looked up at me once and you keep scrunching your nose. You also haven’t smiled since you got here.” He’s a profiler to his core, but this is just you and him, of course he’d notice everything.
You shrug, scrunching your nose again. “The case isn’t exactly something to be happy about, is it?”
Spencer knows what you’re trying to do, but you don’t get the tone right for anger- you just sound defeated.
“Either way, you and Penelope have a knack for smiling through it and you haven’t even tried once.” Ever soft, ever tender are the words that escape him.
He bends his knees a little, chasing your eyes. “What is it?” Spencer’s thumb strokes the inside of your wrist, wanting nothing more than to help.
“Spencer, can we talk about it when the case is over?” You can feel the pressure of the tears behind your eyes and you don’t want to cry here.
Not where anyone can see.
You’d much rather do it at home, where you can curl up under your blanket and sob until you lose your voice.
“Alright, but we will talk; yeah?” You nod and Spencer squeezes your forearm, a firm and soothing pressure on your skin.
The case takes a day and a half to wrap up, and you’re barely holding it together- Penelope lent you her favourite unicorn desk pal for the entire case and also her fluffy pen.
“I’m sorry, babe. You’ll feel better once this is over and you can have a good cry.” She says, your head on her shoulder as you wait for your team to come back.
You nod, “How badly do you think Spencer will react if I start crying now?” Your throat is tight with emotion- honestly you’re not sure if it’s just from your previous day or also the exhaustion of working into the next evening.
“Oh, pretty bad,” she says and you chuckle, a few tears rolling freely down your face. “But I think he’ll be more worried.”
Before you can say anything, there’s a knock on Penelope’s door and you already know who it is- only Spencer knocks. You wipe away the tears hoping that will be enough to hide them from Spencer- it likely won’t be.
“See you tomorrow Pen,” you say, gathering your things and opening the door.
Spencer looks more tired than you expected and you have to assume you don’t look so rested either.
“You’re back,” he nods, taking your satchel bag from you and reaching for your hand.
“What’s wrong?” He murmurs, leading you to a secluded spot in the hall. Spencer doesn’t say it, but your eyes bare all your emotions even if your face is neutral. They’re red and they’ve got a sad look about them, just completely and utterly exhausted. Spencer wants to help any way he can.
You debate how you should start, if you should just tell him about your bad day from beginning to end or if you should just tell him about your weird relationship with your mother and let him fill in the blanks from there.
You decide it wouldn’t be fair to Spencer because he never had you guessing when he’s sharing things so you won’t do it to him.
“Um,” you can already feel the pressure building behind your eyes again. “Yesterday was off to a terrible start, nothing was going quite right from the moment my feet hit the floor.”
Spencer nods, listening quietly as you wring your hands tightly. He takes them easily, holding them in his own and stroking the skin on the back of your hand.
“Then my mom called which could really go either way, and I had to listen to her complain about my dad and every other thing in her life and it gives me a lot of anxiety hearing some of the things and she just wouldn’t stop.”
Your tears are rolling freely now and Spencer pulls you to his chest, fear of germs be damned.
He quiets his own feelings about you crying and about the way you sound recounting your day.
“She just says these things like I’m supposed to be the one to fix them and I can’t and she’s mad that I can’t and it just messes with me sometimes.”
Spencer can deduce what you’re too kind to say- it isn’t your fault or your problem and you shouldn’t be made to feel like it’s your responsibility to make it right.
Your hands shake against Spencer’s back and he sighs, squeezing you just a bit tighter.
“I’m sorry,” his hands coast up and down your back, massaging at the nape of your neck when he reaches there. “I’m sorry she puts it on you, and I know that you’re aware it isn’t your problem to solve but you can’t help that either. Maybe over time she’ll come to realise that you can’t solve all of the things she tells you.”
You nod, trying to stop hiccuping against him. “M’sorry about your shirt Spence.” He laughs, nose in your hair as he holds you.
“It’s okay,” you sniffle harshly trying to clear your sinus. “Want to come over and watch Lord of The Rings?” This wouldn’t be the first time you’ve been there- you’ve spent nights there after drinks with the team and movie nights just the two of you.
All the same it’s a shocking proposal from Spencer right after a case, you know he likes to decompress in his own way.
You gasp, leaning back from his arms a little. It’s hard to miss the care displayed so clearly in his gaze. It’s harder to fight the urge to kiss him. “The extended versions?” Spencer notes that you’ve a little more spark in your tone, a little more life in your eyes.
“Yeah, I think we can make it through the entire trilogy if we hurry.” There’s a grin on his lips as he says it.
“Spencer, don’t play with me here. We’re talking serious business.” He laughs, hiking your bag higher on his shoulder as he watches you wipe your tears.
“I’m not playing. Is your go-bag full or do you want to stop by your place on the way to mine?” He hopes secretly that you don’t have your own sleep clothes, it’s a selfish want to see you in one of his shirts or even a cardigan.
“I have clothes, we can go straight there. And you’re driving, you have all the maps in your head with the shortest routes.”
Spencer nods, like he was ever going to make you drive. “Plus you’re a hazard on the road, absolute chaos behind a wheel.”
Spencer feels his chest lighten when your laugh explodes from you, loud and so like yourself as you wait for the elevator to open.
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luveline · 2 months
Note
what if bombshell!reader proposed to Spencer? Instead of Spencer proposing to bombshell!reader? Would he be upset or just as happy? Also, I absolutely adore your writing! 🥰💕
ty for requesting!! —spencer gets a love he deserves, 1.4k, fem!reader
The first proper time that you and Spencer slept together, he wasn’t nervous. It was sort of like a high school sleepover. You’d slept in shared beds in stuffy hotels and he’d once stayed the night while he was too drunk to remember it, but the first time you invited him in with intention to just be together, he wasn’t scared. You remember being surprised. Looking back, you shouldn’t have been. 
You laid together like you are now. He wore a grey t-shirt and a pair of blue chequered pants, and he’d pushed his hair back all day leaving the front pieces limp, and he’d touched your cheek to encourage your face to his before he moved in for one polite kiss. “I love you,” he’d said, much too early and a couple years too late at the same time. 
You turn on your side now to look at him. His contacts are out, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He’s watching a video on his laptop and the line of his jaw is soft. Or, softer than usual. He has a very sharp jaw. 
You shift a bit to alleviate the pressure on your hip.
“You okay?” Spencer asks. He doesn’t look away from his laptop nor does he sound tuned in. It’s sort of funny that he manages to care even when he’s not paying attention.
“Yeah.” 
“Tired?” 
“Not really.” 
“Hungry at all?” 
“Just brushed my teeth.” 
“That’s not the question I was asking.” 
“Not hungry, Spencer. Can I watch too?” 
He turns the laptop toward you to the point where his view is obscured, raising the volume a touch. “It’s about Tuberculosis. Do you wanna watch something else?” 
“No, this sounds interesting.” 
He settles in next to you. His fingers brush your chest. For a good forty five minutes, you and Spencer watch the rest of his video. He gets visibly tireder the longer it goes on, but neither of you attempt to get ready to sleep until the video’s finished. He closes the lid of his laptop, twisting in bed to deposit it gently on the floor. There’s a familiar shush of him sliding it under the bed to stop you from standing on it (a learned precaution). 
“Did you take that vitamin, the primrose?” he asks, flicking off his bedside lamp, leaving yours as the only source of light in the entire room. It’s a pink glass shade that kisses his pale skin a rosy hue. 
“Yeah, Spence.” 
He shakes the sheets back and the over you both. One minute you’re apart and the next he’s pulling you into him, confident handed, his breath warming your face as the gap between you thins. Despite his readying, he doesn’t say goodnight, or close his eyes. This is your time now. You often spend time at night just talking to each other about everything you’d meant to say that day, or nonsense conversation, until one or both of you has been lulled into a peaceful sleep. 
“I have something I want to tell you,” you say. 
“Okay.” He sounds completely trusting, no worrying, no reluctance. 
“You remember the first time you stayed at my apartment?” 
“No.” 
“The second time,” you correct. 
“Yes,” he says, grinning. “I was much less intoxicated that time.” 
“You were sober.” 
“I didn’t feel sober,” he says. 
“Nice. You’re getting so good at this.” 
“Thank you.” 
“But do you remember that?” You trace the curve of his nose. He’ll have to take his glasses off soon. They’ve already worn red crescents into his skin. “You told me you loved me.” 
“I can’t forget it,” he says, still grinning. You’ve tried to tell people —idiots— who don’t understand you and Spencer that, even without his million charms and idiosyncrasies, you’d love him for his smile. It changes his entire face. He never looks as beautiful to you as he does when he’s smiling. 
“I didn’t say it back.” 
“We’d only been together for a few days,” he says. “It was one of my moments.” 
“Spencer, I did love you, though. I should’ve told you. I knew in that moment that you really, really meant it, and I just want you to know that when you said it, I could have said it back. I should have. I loved you just as much, I promise.” 
“I know,” he whispers, eyes slightly widened. 
“I think I’ve loved you since the day we met. It’s cliche.” 
“Sometimes things are cliche because they’re good,” he says, laying his cheek more firmly into his pillow as he raises a hand to your face. His thumbs rests in the space under your chin. His fingertips brush along the skin just beside your lips. “And true. I loved you the minute you introduced yourself.” 
You savour the feeling of his hand on your cheek. 
“You’re so handsome,” you say, “and kind. You’re everything to me. You know that.” 
Spencer wraps his arm gently under your chin and behind your head as he lays closer to you. “I know. You’re everything to me. You’re my best friend in the whole world, I– didn’t even know how happy I could be before now.” 
“Me too, baby.” 
He closes his eyes. Your noses touch. 
“Spencer Reid, will you marry me?” you whisper.
Quiet. Aching, total quiet. He curls his arm behind your head until your lips are a hair’s width apart, and when he answers, it’s like he’s spoken directly to the deepest parts of you. “It’s all I want,” he says. 
“I got you a ring,” you murmur. 
The air races with your heart. The sound of your skin and clothes is the only thing to be heard between breaths. “I got you three,” he says. 
“Spencer, what for?” you ask, afraid to open your eyes and break the spell, the branching, unending feeling of connection you share. 
“I didn’t know which one you’d like.”
“You’ll marry me?” you ask. 
“Angel, I already said yes. I love you. I told you already we’d have to get married.” 
“Oh, we have to?” 
Spencer kisses you. It’s startlingly open-mouthed for a moment, but you adapt and overcome, you love him and his every touch, tilting your head to the side to allow him room to ferry in and kiss you deeply. It’s slow and measured, then quick and undecided. He turns his face one way to kiss you, then the other, back again, a hint of roughness —of hunger to it as he pulls your face to his. 
A spark of heat against your nose. 
Your eyes flutter open, a pinked path of light scored diagonally down his cheek. “Spence,” you say, feeling the weight and heat of tears gather behind your eyes, even as you smile, “don’t cry, baby.” 
“I feel like I spent my whole life waiting for someone to love me and it doesn’t feel real that it’s you,” he whispers slowly. 
“No? How do I make it more real for you, sweetheart? What can I do?” you ask sincerely. 
He shakes his head. 
You push your forehead into his. He doesn’t cry anymore than two burning hot tears, rubbing your shoulder as you yourself sniffle back your own emotion. You’re really not sad. You hurt for him, but this is one of the best things that’s ever happened to you. 
“Do you want to choose your ring?” he asks, enthusing his voice with cheer. 
“Do you want to see yours first?” 
“Did you get me a diamond?” he asks. 
“Don’t be silly, Spencer, of course I did.” 
He laughs and kisses you three times in quick succession before he sits up, wiping his face, chuckling wryly. “Sorry, I didn’t think I would react like that.” 
You tangle your fingers with his before he can get too far away. “I love you, honey. There’s nothing wrong with crying about it.” 
You aren’t expecting to start crying when he slides one of the rings he’s chosen for you over your finger. He says you can see each one in action and choose after you've seen them all, but the moment the band is over your knuckle, you know it’s the one you’ll keep. You push the ring you’d bought for him onto his finger with your cheeks still tearstained.
The diamond on his ring isn’t quite as big as the one he’d bought for you, but it looks right nestled against his pale skin. That night, you talk more than you ever have before, falling asleep only minutes after the glowing threads of morning have painted your twined hands with gold. 
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intoxicated-chan · 1 month
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Daryl Dixon request! You and Daryl have just recently got together a few months ago! You and Daryl wander off from the group when you're on the road too look for food water ext, you both get a bit frisky and your sexual tension builds(maybe a bit of bickering), but it’s dangerous, so Daryl takes you against the tree your legs wrapped around him your back against the tree a gun in hand just in case a walker hears, but he’s also kissing you to muffle your moans 💕💕
𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫
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Summary ➳ Daryl fucks you against the tree. (Idk what else to say) 
(A/n) ➳ I am not made to write smut! Most of one-shot is just fluff and only a couple hundred words is smut... I’m sorry.   
Word Count ➳ 1.4k 
Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, sexual content, mainly fluff, little smut, typical TWD violence, swearing, pet names (Sweetheart, darlin’), getting caught but not knowing? Unprotected sex, p-in-v, outdoor sex, creampie... 
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“I ain’t gonna say it again.” You pushed Daryl as the two of you walked through the empty streets. “Move your damn ass.”  
“Stop yer damn whinin’.” Daryl retorted. “And I know yer ass ain’t talkin’ crap when ya nearly lost yerself in places like this and I had to find ya.” Finally, he picked up his pace, just like you wanted him to do for the past two hours, maybe more. 
You rolled your eyes, arms crossed and scoffed but quickly shut yourself up when you tripped on your own feet.  
“I heard that.” Daryl commented.  
“Piss off.”  
“Swearin’ ain’t gonna scare me away sweetheart.” He chuckled and stopped, loading his crossbow as he caught sight of a lone walker. “Yer stuck with me.” He murmured, aiming the crossbow with a finger on the trigger.  
“Sadly.” You playfully sighed, standing back as you let Daryl deal with the simple threat.  
How long has it been? Three- no, four? Yes, four months. You both had strayed from the group, a habit you both developed over the past few months, much to the group’s dismay. 
“Top that.” Daryl said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He walked to the dead walker, putting his foot on its head to pull the arrow out of its skull. “Now, ya sure we ain’t lost?” He asked, wiping the blood from the arrow.  
You shot him a grin, unfolding your arms and placed them on your lips. “Lost? Please, I could navigate these roads blindfolded.”  
Daryl raised an eyebrow. “Remembered that happened when I left ya with Rick.”  
“Please, don’t remind me.”  
“Then stop lyin’.” 
You shook your head. “Then do you have any idea where we’re headed, Dixon?” You asked, as you pulled at the straps of your bag, trying to relieve your shoulders.  
Daryl shot you a glance, his smirk turning into a genuine smile. “Jus’ followin’ the trail, darlin’.” He answered in his trademark gravelly voice. “Ain’t like we got a map or somethin’.”  
“Well, let’s hope your tracking skills are as good as you say they are.”  
He huffed but then laughed, his eyes moving to what’s in front of them for any sign of movement. “Trust me, (Y/n), ain’t no walker gonna sneak up on us while I’m around.”  
Your smile dropped by the sound of rusting in the bushes beside the road. Daryl aimed his crossbow while you unsheathed your knife. Slowly, they approached the source of the noise, ready to attack. 
But you gasped, a small rabbit darted out from the bush, scurrying away into the distance. Daryl lowered his crossbow.  
“Looks like dinner jus’ ran off.”  
You clicked your tongue, sheathing your knife as you reached into your bag. “Guess we’ll have to settle for canned beans again.” 
The two of you decided to make camp when you noted the sunset, and you knew it would be some time before you reached the group. Daryl gathered dry twigs and branches, making a small fire.  
Sitting side by side on makeshift logs, you both shared a meal of canned beans that were heated by the flames. The fire flickered over the silence, luckily, you both were comfortable.  
Though you side eyed Daryl when he refused the spoon, he found it easier to eat with his hands. Daryl looked at you as you ate, noticing the pistol he had given you for protection wasn’t on or near you. “Where’s the gun I gave ya?”  
You hesitated for a moment, scrapping the sides of the can with your spoon. “I... I couldn’t get it to work.” You admitted sheepishly. “It feels like it’s clogged.” 
Daryl sat his half-eaten can of beans to the side and licked his fingers clean. He reached down to your bag to retrieve the pistol, examining it near the fire. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to find the issue.  
As he worked, you couldn’t help but stare. The way his rugged features were softened by the firelight, the way his gruff hands moved with such precision... It made you rub your thighs together.  
He was always skilled with his fingers, making you crumble and become weak with just his hands.  
“-Good to go.” Daryl’s voice made you jump, catching the pistol in time before it hit the ground. “Test it out.”  
You looked around. “Here?”  
“There’s a silencer on it for a reason.” 
“And waste bullets?”  
“Ya gonna complain or try it?”  
Daryl pointed at a tree not far but barely visible. “Try it,” he stood, motioning for you to stand. But you just stared at him. “C’mon.”  
You stood and looked where he pointed, it was a tree with a giant rock to its left side. You gripped the pistol and aimed it.  
Daryl moved behind you. “Ya gotta straighten your posture.” He murmured, his voice low, his hot breath hitting your ear. “Like this.”  
Gently, he adjusted your stance, his hands lingering on your shoulders for a moment, longer than necessary. His hands, his voice, his breath... It all sent shivers down your spinel, a sensation that sent a rush down to your cunt.  
“Is this better?” You said, your voice barely audible. 
Daryl nodded, you couldn’t see but there was a faint smirk. “Much.”  
“Should I-” You stumbled when you felt his hands come on your hips, you felt your face starting to burn. “Daryl?’ 
He hushed you. “Don’ think.” He replied softly. “Go on, fire it.”  
“I can’t.” You retorted. “Walkers are nearby-” 
Daryl snatched the gun and pushed you against a tree, you didn’t see it coming. “Guess I gotta keep ya quiet.” He muttered, leaning in. “Think I didn’t notice ya starin’? Oglin’ me? So damn desperate.”  
“Ain’t my fault.” You said, shrugging, trying to act natural. “Looking like a goddamn meal.”  
“Wanna taste?” Again, he spoke in your ear, nearly making your knees buckle.  
“Please.”  
“Then shut up.”  
He used his free hand to pull you in a kiss, the hand that held a pistol remained by the side of your head. You immediately returned the kiss, your arms wrapped around his neck.  
God, he tasted so good. He smelled so good, some fucking how. Or maybe it was your nose playing with you, but you didn’t care. You needed more of him.  
You then jumped on him, using your own strength to keep you upright. It startled Daryl as he didn’t expect it.  
Daryl's hand squeezed your ass, gaining a moan from you.  He pulled back. “Gotta keep quiet for me.” He said. “Think ya can do that?” 
Yu didn’t understand a single word that came out of his beautiful mouth, but slammed your lips against his, becoming addicted to him.  
“Do me a favor.” Daryl hummed against your neck. “Unbuckle my pants for me.”  
Maggie froze in place, lifting his hand up to stop Carol. “Did you hear that?” She murmured, it sounded like a whimper or maybe a moan.  
“Sounds like a person.” Carol responded.  
“Might be survivors.”  
Nodding in agreement, Carol followed Maggie as she cautiously followed the source of the nose. Moving slowly and carefully, her guard was on high alert.  
But she didn’t expect to see Daryl with his pants around his knees with your legs around his waist. The strap of your tank top fell past your shoulders, exposing one of your breasts.  
It looked like his lips were glued to yours, he only took a couple of moments to catch his breath before they were back on you.  
Carol sighed and covered her eyes turning away, honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She just didn’t think you both go as far as to do it out in the open.  
“That doesn’t look comfortable.” Carol commented.  
“It isn’t.” Maggie replied. “Should we-” 
“Let them get it out of their systems.” Carol grabbed Maggie’s arm to walk away.  
Daryl had you up against the tree, your back throbbing from the uneven trunk digging into your skin. Your lips are most likely swollen by now, saliva dripping down your chin. 
There was something thrilling about being fucked out in the open with danger nearby. But there wasn’t a single ounce of fear with Daryl holding the pistol. 
He felt your fingernails digging into him as he fucked you, he was getting off on it. 
Your moans were always cut off, as well as your words. He took pleasure in seeing you getting frustrated.  
Daryl felt your walls tighten around him, desperately trying to hold him in, chasing an orgasm.  
And when Daryl comes, he does it inside. He manages to go deeper than before. You slumped against Daryl, eyes shut.  
“don’ go sleepin’ on me now.” Daryl now had you standing on your feet, his only hand keeping you up as he looked around. “We got a couple hours before day. I say we use ‘em.” 
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© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission. 
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