#did i just spend an hour writing this? yes. why did i do that? i don't KNOW
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Rating: General Audiences (No Archive Warnings Apply)
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Summary: Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming.
Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios.
(or: Laios, Falin, and Marcille talk about parents.)
Wedding preparations are going off without a hitch until Senshi asks Falin whether her parents are coming.
Marcille’s hands freeze mid-daisy twist. Chilchuck closes his eyes and waits. Kabru, who had given up on weaving hours ago and was mostly just watching the others make garlands, quietly casts his gaze to Laios.
“I’ll have to know how much to mutton to serve,” Senshi continues. “Or would they prefer the eel serpent instead?”
Marcille can practically hear Chilchuck counting to ten under his breath. He only makes it to eight before Falin says, “Oh…I haven’t actually heard back from them yet—”
And Laios starts, “Of course they’re not—Falin, you what? You didn’t—”
“Yes,” Marcille interjects. “She invited them.”
Laios stands up so fast that his chair falls over and he hits the table. His robe send daisies scattering to the ground. “Wh—but…why would you do that?”
“Because they’re our parents, Laios,” Falin looks up at him. “They should be here when I get married.”
His expression darkness. “No they shouldn’t. Your wedding day is supposed to be happy.”
“It’s what she wants,” Marcille says, surprisingly forcefully. “It’s what will make her happy.”
“What do you know?” Laios snaps.
Marcille gasps. “I—that’s—” She seems too stunned or angry to speak. For a moment after, the garden is quiet as a graveyard, everyone fixed in horrified place.
Then Marcille shoots up and slaps the table. “It’s my wedding too!” she says.
“They’re our parents!”
“So what? You won’t even have to talk to them! They’ll be seated somewhere else!”
“Have you already thought this through? Why haven’t you said anything?”
“Because we knew you’d be—”
Laios turns to Falin, utterly betrayed. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Falin looks like she’s about to cry, which is when Chilchuck and Kabru, acting almost in unison, grab Senshi and say, “Let’s go check on Izutsumi,” and half-drag, half-run themselves out of the garden.
Falin twists the edge of her shirt in her lap. Marcille huffs loudly. “See? This is exactly what we wanted to avoid—”
“Marcille,” Falin says.
“Huh?”
She takes Marcille’s hand. “Can you give us a second?”
Marcille starts. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Laios has fixed his glower at the ground to staunchly avoid looking at Marcille.
She sighs. “Okay, fine. But seriously, if you need me, I’ll be right over—”
Falin squeezes her hand. “I know. Thanks.”
With one last glance –now wavering between righteousness and nervous regret – Marcille trudges out of the courtyard.
The energy seeps out of Laios in that moment, though his anger clearly remains. He sits down and grabs a daisy, comically tiny in his large, worn hands, and starts pinching the stem.
“I…when did you ask them?”
Falin walks around the stone picnic table to sit next to her brother. She spends most of her time barefoot these days – if she can get away with it – and hardly makes a sound as she moves.
Her shoulder bumps Laios’s. He doesn’t lean into it, but doesn’t shift away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier. I wrote to them right after we settled the date. I didn’t want…I know letters can take a while to reach them, so I didn’t want them to miss it.”
“I don’t know why you’re still writing to them,” Laios bites. It has less edge than before, though. “It’s not like they care.”
“That’s not true—” Falin begins.
“They sent you away!”
“They did everything they could first,” Falin says. She tries to firm her voice up as they begin treading on old ground, though it occurs to her that they’ve never spoken this plainly about it before. “And it was for the best, especially after you…” She bites her lip. Then flinches as her fangs draw a bead of blood.
“Falin!” Laios says, looking alarmed. “Are you okay?”
She wipes at her mouth. “Don’t worry, brother.” She tries for a smile. “I still forget I have these sometimes.”
Falin knows Laios well enough to see him grapple with the urge to say something about dragon-chimera teeth sharpness while also stay mad enough to be taken seriously.
“I am really sorry,” Falin says again before Laios can pass out from the internal struggle. “You’re right. I should have said something.”
Laios’s shoulders slump. He sighs and reaches for another daisy.
“I do know why you’re still writing to them,” he admits, tying two stems together. “I know that the way you feel about them is different than the way I do. It is your wedding. If you want them there, that’s all that matters.”
She puts a hand on his shoulder. “I wasn’t trying to hide it from you. I was only going to bring it up if they said they were coming, otherwise I would have worried you for nothing. But…I ended up hiding it from you anyway, and that was wrong.”
“Would you have uninvited them if I asked you to?”
“Of course,” Falin says immediately. “I want you to have a good time too. It’s important to me that it’s a happy day for everyone I care about.”
Laios manages a tiny grin at that. He holds up the start of his flower chain. “You know, if you’re worried about how long it’s taking them to answer, I can just summon them here. I am the king of a whole country, after all.” Then his face goes slack. “You’ve told them I’m the king, right?”
“Er…”
Laios groans when Falin trails off. “They don’t even know yet?”
“They might,” Falin says quickly. “I’ve written to them and said that you beat the Lord of the Dungeon and people really like you for it. And Chilchuck says that pretty much everyone in the world has heard the story by now.” At Laios’s expression, Falin amends, “Maybe not everyone. Maybe just…mostly everyone.”
Laios sighs. “I really hate being king, you know. Well—that’s not what I mean. It’s important to me that I’m able to change people’s minds and make a place where everyone I care about is happy. And I know I can only do that because I’m the king. But…I didn’t even care about all that ‘leadership’ stuff when we were kids, let alone now.”
“That’s what makes you a good at it,” Falin says.
“I know,” Laios’s mouth quirks. “That’s what Kabru and Marcille keep—oh, Marcille. Shoot. I need to talk to her.”
Laios moves to stand, but Falin reaches a hand out and catches him by the wrist. “Wait,” she says. “About that—”
“I know,” Laios groans, “I shouldn’t have yelled—”
“No,” Falin says. “It’s not just that. Has she…talked to you about her invitations yet?”
“Huh?” Laios blinks. “Oh, uh, no. Why?”
Falin’s gaze casts downward. “She was defending me, but it’s not only that. You should ask her about it.”
“Uh, okay,” Laios says. “Is that all?”
Falin lets go of his sleeve. “Yep.”
***
Laios finds Marcille sullenly conjuring little butterflies out of the courtyard’s central fountain and making them chase each other around the statue of a particularly ugly fish. When she notices him approaching, the butterflies all shake and collapse into waves of water.
She waits until he’s a few feet away from her before saying, “I know you think it’s going to be awful, but ever since Falin sent the invitation I’ve been thinking really hard about this. There’s lots of tables, and you’ll be next to Falin and me at the head one, so if we put some decorative hedges between us, you won’t even be able to see them.”
“I don’t think Falin would have invited our parents just to hide them behind a bush the whole night,” Laios says. “Can I sit?”
Marcille eyes him warily, then exhales. Her ears droop when the tension leaves her. “I owe you an apology, don’t I?”
Laios sits in the grass and leans against the edge of the fountain next to Marcille’s staff. “I do too. Um, maybe even more than one, right?”
“What do you mean?”
Laios rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “Well, I don’t actually know. Falin was kind of vague about it.”
“Did she tell you about my mom?” Marcille says, suddenly rigid again.
“Oh” Laios says, now incredibly out of his depth. “No?”
“Oh.” Marcille slumps.
Laios nudges her leg in a sign of peace. “Has something about your mother been bothering you?” His mouth opens when the clues finally line up. “Oh, Marcille. Is she not coming?”
Marcille knocks her staff over when she leans down to grab Laios around the neck and start to cry.
“Sff…yes…I mean…no. But it’s—it’s more complicated than that.”
Laios adjusts his position so he can pat Marcille on the back. Teary rivulets stick to the fur of his cloak.
“Marcille…I’m so sorry.”
“She…it’s not that she doesn’t want to be there. Not at all.” Marcille sniffs. “But—politically, it’s really hard for her right now. The human court she works for is basically controlled by the Western Elves. And they aren’t exactly our enemies, but they’ve made it pretty clear that they’re watching us carefully. And…I’m technically criminal, and even though Falin is the king’s sister, pretty much everyone knows she’s a chimera, which my mom doesn’t care about, but lots of other people do, so…”
“So she can’t come,” Laios says.
“No,” Marcille says. “But it’s not yours or Falin’s faults,” she adds with the next breath. “Seriously, I don’t want either of you beating yourselves up about it. It’s just the way things are. And my mom would probably want to bring her new husband with her anyway, which…” Marcille makes an expression that is only worsened by her red cheeks and runny nose.
Laios chooses not to ask Marcille to elaborate, instead passing her a handkerchief. Marcille blows her nose loudly.
“I just thought that if neither of my parents could be there, at least yours and Falin’s could.”
The fountain burbles gently behind them.
“Right,” Laios says.
“You’re lucky, you know,” Marcille adds quietly. “Not that—no, I’m not saying you should be grateful, or anything, and I don’t really approve of the way they treated your or Falin either. I mean, they’re old enough to know better.”
“Uh, right,” Laios says, slightly less certainly.
“I wish it was easier,” Marcille finishes. “That’s all.”
The two of them sit together in silence for a moment, watching pale wisps of clouds trail across the afternoon sky.
“What if she wore a disguise?” Laios says eventually, breaking the spell.
Marcille snorts in surprise. “What?”
“Or casts an illusion spell. She can, right? Then no one would even have to know.”
“I—I guess I didn’t think of that.”
“You were busy trying to figure out how to put my parents up a tree?”
“It wouldn’t have been up a tree!” Marcille laughs and slaps Laios on the shoulder. “If they’re going to be my in-laws, I at least want them to like me.”
“Did you know Falin hasn’t even told them I’m a king, yet?”
“She told me she wasn’t sure if you wanted them to know, so she didn’t mention it.”
Laios and Marcille share a look. “That sounds like Falin,” Laios says.
“Do you want them to know?” Marcille asks. “It might actually be good for us, especially since the North is usually so apolitical.”
“Er, is it?” Laios says, and Marcille rolls her eyes.
“Aren’t you from there?”
“I was a kid—”
“Then aren’t any of Kabru’s lessons sinking in?”
“Of course they are,” Laios says defensively. “Did you know that gnomes have a special ceremony they perform when young gnomes come of age? It’s called the—”
“I mean lessons about things other than how cool other races are. Like diplomacy? And tactics?”
Laios sinks slightly lower into the grass. “Yes,” he says petulantly.
“Really?” Marcille says.
“Sort of?”
Marcille laughs. She’s about to add something else when suddenly, loud clamoring echoes from the open hall opposite the courtyard and Izutsumi shouts her way into view, closely trailed by Chilchuck, Senshi, and Kabru, all urgently trying to pull her back.
“—do you mean, not now? I didn’t waste all that time picking daisies for nothing—oh, there they are!”
“No, seriously—” Chilchuck begins, then they all freeze when they spot Laios and Marcille.
“Oh,” Kabru blinks. “Is…are we interrupting anything?”
“We can come back,” Senshi adds. “I get it now.” He also winks, which is more confusing.
“It’s okay,” Marcille calls back. “Actually, we should all get back to the table, now. We’ve been slacking for long enough!”
“Did I miss something?” Izutsumi asks. “Why isn’t anyone working on the necklaces?”
“They’re not necklaces,” Marcille sighs. “They’re garlands. Falin says that in the North—”
“Why don’t we let her explain it?” Laios stands. “Come on. We should probably make a few extra too, just in case. So it’s good you brought more daisies, Izutsumi.”
"You're welcome," she preens.
And then they all go together to find Falin.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#farcille#touden siblings#laios touden#falin touden#marcille donato#jay writes#long post#fanfiction#fanfic#dungeon meshi fic#oneshot#manga spoilers
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woke up and someone spilled vanilla extract all over my dash, so as punishment you strange little beasties are getting all the VANILLA FACTS i know:
vanilla is the 2nd most expensive spice in the world (2nd to saffron)
which is why more than 99% of what we call "vanilla extract" is actually vanillin (vanilla's dominant flavor compound) and is not extracted from real vanilla.
luckily, even professionals struggle to tell the difference when it comes to things like baked goods. but there is a distinct difference in non-heat treated products like vanilla ice cream. real vanilla has a more complex, individualized flavor profile.
why is vanilla so expensive? because it is a ridiculously delicate & demanding crop. complete primadonna.
vanilla beans come from vanilla orchids. these crazy flowers bloom for A SINGLE DAY and have to be HAND-POLLINATED in a process that is exhausting, delicate, and requires specialist knowledge passed down over generations.
then, if you're lucky, you get vanilla beans.
which then require months of further specialized treatment.
the entire process takes about a year and can go wrong at any stage
vanilla has been cultivated for over 800 years (possibly much longer). the first known cultivators are the Totonac, an indigenous people of Mexico.
the Aztecs used it as a sweetener to balance out the bitter taste of cocoa. it was popular in a drink called xocolatl--the precursor to modern hot chocolate!
it is only pollinated by a very specific orchid bee!!!
which is why no fruit could be grown outside of Mexico until the 1800s
Edmond Albius, born into slavery, invented the pollination method we still use today--launching a global industry when he was just 12 years old.
today, the majority of the world's vanilla is grown in Madagascar
if you want real vanilla, read the labels carefully--it's harder to find than you think!
in conclusion, those tiny black specks you see in fancy vanilla ice cream? those are vanilla bean seeds! itty bitty orchid seeds!!! they are delicious and also a PRISSY BITCH!
(src)
#Vanilla Extract#i open the tumblr app and immediately my nostrils are invaded by the overwhelming stench of vanilla#also if you want real vanilla extract at a discount: check out stores like HomeGoods TJMaxx Marshalls etc#the foodstuffs section tends to have fancy nonperishables for much cheaper than upscale grocery stores#you can get things like saffron truffles fancy oils at surprising prices#still expensive but like. 50% cheaper#or just shoplift if that's your thing i won't tell you how to live your life#did i just spend an hour writing this? yes. why did i do that? i don't KNOW
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Fernando Alonso & His Relationship With Cards
I'm sure we're all familar with the cards on the back of Fernando's Vegas GP helmet by now, but did you know his relationship with cards goes a lot deeper?
I. Magic Tricks
You've probably seen or heard someone at least mention Fernando's propensity for card tricks. As far as I can tell he was doing them(publically) as far back as 2003 all the way to as recently as 2018. Even once performing a card trick, with a condom and a teddy bear(!??!?!??!!), in front of Valentino Rossi who said "How was that possible?"(x)
But how did this start? According to James Allen, "Fernando admits to having been heavily influenced by his grandfather, a mercurial figure, who taught him magic and card tricks, still one of his passions away from the race track."(x) And I'm not sure the validity of this one, because I couldn't find an actual source, but apparently he once said: "My parents are responsible for the two things I like doing most - driving and magic tricks. They bought me my first go-kart and a magician's kit."
In several interviews he described it as his hobby off track, and that he loved learning new tricks and surprising others in the garage with them! So clearly cards are pretty important to him both as a hobby but also to who he is as a person since they've been with him just as long as racing has.
II. Card Symbolism in His Helmets
This is the reason I originally made this post, but I thought I should also explain the origins of his card fascination first. As I said, we probably all remember the cards on the back of his helmet in Vegas, but did you know that wasn't the first time he had cards on the back of his helmet?
From 2008-2013, he used to have a pair of cards on the back of his helmets. The symbolisms of the cards themselves as well as the evolution of their design is really fascinating to me! Even more so with the recent development of the card choice in 2023.
Fernando said he wanted to reference his two titles in some way on the back of his helmet and after his friend sent him several ideas, he decided on having two cards(an ace of clubs and an ace of hearts, sometimes pictured with 05 and 06 on them as well), saying: "I picked the cloverleaf [the ace of clubs - Ed] to give me luck, but the only pity is that it doesn't have four leaves!"(X)
2008.
Here's the very first appearance of the cards! They're displayed flat, with the 05 and 06 clearly visible
2009.
Very similar to 2008, but with a slightly different design, and they're maybe a bit more straight with less shadow?
2010.
This is the first major change! I was sad they didn't have the years on them anymore, but then I realized they're sparkly to match with his signature lightning bolts on the top of the helmet!!
2011.
Honestly I'm still somewhat unsure if this is the actual 2011 helmet? It's pretty difficult to find clear photos of the back of helmets from older seasons. It's easiest to find them on replica sites or auction sites so I'm not 100%? But anyways, I like that this has the championship years on the underside of the cards
2012.
This is when I started getting weirdly emotional about the helmets. Do you see how they've progressed from being a centerpoint to being curled up and sad at the bottom of the helmet? Not listing the year anymore??
2013.
Same thoughts as 2012. And after this season, they cease to exist (just like his ferrari chair in the garage, WOAH CALLBACK), until cards make a reeappearance in his Vegas helmet, albeit in a different form
2013 Monaco(Honorable Mention):
For some reason 2013 helmets were easier to find proper pictures of, so I happened to witness this absolute beauty. The creativity of this helmet genuinely blows me away??? Wanting to keep the card motif, but making sure to incorporate it into the rest of the puzzle piece design?? Mwah! There was another special 2013 helmet but they didn't change the cards at all so I really applaud this one
2023 Las Vegas(The Return of The King):
The magnificent return! But look! The cards are different cards! Instead of being two aces, it's now an ace of hearts, a four of hearts(his driver number of course!) and, the, now iconic, representation of himself as a Joker. I literally could not believe my eyes when this helmet was released and I saw the Joker card, what a fucking silly old man....I really wonder if he felt nostalgic having cards on his helmet again or if he didn't think about it all and was just like, "ah cards because Vegas!!!"
III. Why Does This Matter?
*The rest of the post was factual, this is moreso my personal thoughts on the symbolism of the cards/designs
This post spawned from me recently watching the 2010 Bahrain gp and noticing "hey wait a minute...are those CARDS ON THE BACK OF HIS HELMET!?" It's a really tiny detail that's unfortunately covered up by the HANS device pretty much whenever he's wearing the helmet, so it's really difficult to spot! But I became fascinated with the fact that he had cards on his helmet before that recent helmet, and now here we are!
There's something to me about how the design of the cards evolves over the course of six seasons from the cards being front and center to being smaller, more folded up and closer to the bottom of the helmet. As I said, the 2012-2013 ones genuinely made me depressed because it feels, symbolically, like his hopes for getting another Ace are becoming more and more unlikely and falling away until they eventually fall falt and fade away entirely after 2013 and disappear for basically a decade.
But when they return? They're not the same cards! Instead of representing Fernando's championships, they now represent him as a person, displaying his driver number and his persona of being a Joker!! Though I do think it's interesting he happened to keep the Ace of Hearts, even though he talked more about the Ace of Clubs before. I'm not sure it's actually this deep in reality, but I like to think that it's him not letting his championships(and the lack thereof) define him, but rather letting who he is as a person shine and be the centerpoint instead! But on a sadder note, as @suzuki-ecstar said to me, maybe the Aces aren't there anymore because he's lost all hope for a chance at a third Ace entirely :(
#yes its finals week and im up to my eyes in coursework but instead decided to spend like 5 hours researching and writing this post#nah bcs i actually genuinely put more work into this then I think I have all semester dsfjdskjg#that thing about him using a condom and teddy bear in a magic trick genuinely had me crying with laugher. actual tears rolling down my face#<- HOW!?!? WHAT WAS THE TRICK?? its literally inconceivable to me what he did. oh if only there were pics UGH#anyways!! this post was a lot of fun to make!! i really really love the symbolism and design of helmets so this was a rly fun project#and i also went down a lot of rabbitholes while make this and saw many very weird articles from yore#i feel like i make an equal amnt of deranged posts abt seb and nando but i dont know why nando is gifted w all my well researched projects#<- i.e. chair post. that was the same level of research as this one but at least this one i could find actual sources about....#idk theres smth about the extremely long history of nando's history that evokes research posts like this KLAJSLSKDJ#theres just so much that i dont think I ever really see people discussing! so i must create.#haha what was that joke tag i wanted to make abt my researched posts? I think:#normal posts that catie normally makes in a normal fashion#<- one day ill go back and actually tag posts w that. bcs the amtn of research compared to my actual schoolwork is so unwell#fernando alonso#fa14#f1#formula 1#catie.rambling.txt#we do a little bit of f1
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(Disclaimer: this post contains spoilers for the FNAF movie, and isn't being made to invalidate anyone's opinions on the material. You can like/love the movie, and/or dislike/hate the movie! Also this started as a post talking about how people say it's inaccurate to the games but it actually isn't, then eventually turned into my review of it lol.)
What I keep hearing around the internet:
"This is nothing like the games, it's supposed to be an R-rated gorefest! We should've seen all five kids get brutally slaughtered and stuffed into the animatronics, not whatever that stupid intro sequence was. The games showed it so why couldn't the movie do the same?"
"Why are the animatronics friendly with Abby? That's not how it is in the games, the animatronics kill anyone regardless of age."
"It's hardly even scary, the games were much more terrifying than this."
"Why is the movie so focused on the story? It's supposed to be about bloody murder and revenge."
"This isn't a horror/comedy series, what the hell."
What FNAF games are like:
-Mild to barely any gore; the most gruesome of content visually is shown via pixel minigames (Mainly FNAF 2, 3 & 4, & SL) or minor gore like the eyes popping out of the Freddy head in FNAF1's game over screen, as to not be too violent for its rating, E-12
-Animatronics are corrupted by the spirits of dead children (Missing Children's Incident (MCI) newspapers from FNAF 1), exacting vengeance on adults because of their killer, but being friendly toward other children
--"Uh, by now I’m sure you’ve noticed the older models, sitting in the back room. Uh, those are from the previous location, we just use them for parts now. The idea at first was to repair them. Uh, they even started retrofitting them with some of the newer technology." (FNAF2 - NIGHT 2)
--"Someone may have tampered with their facial recognition systems, we’re not sure. But the characters have been acting very unusual, almost aggressive towards the staff. They interact with the kids just fine, but when they encounter an adult, they just…stare." (FNAF2 - NIGHT 4)
--I'm using the calls from FNAF 2 in reference here because it is a prequel to FNAF 1, and as far as I can tell, it was confirmed the withered animatronics from 2 are modified to become the ones in 1 ("But they were just so ugly, you know? And the smell…ugh." (FNAF 2 -- NIGHT 2) "If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too." (FNAF 1 -- NIGHT 1))
-The games are relatively scary in the aspect of environmental horror; dim lighting, sounds that have no origin and/or are meant to trip you up & make you uneasy, characters suddenly appearing in the doorways/entrances to your office; they are also heavily jumpscare-reliant, you either win or get jumped by one of the animatronics
-The storytelling format through the games evolved over time (mainly focusing on Scott era games (FNAF1-UCN)) with more voice actors and whatnot, but the early trilogy solely relied on phone calls which were written to be morbidly awkward and funny despite the circumstances
--In later games, the plot develops as Michael Afton (our (debatable) main protagonist across the franchise) goes after the restaurants & the killer, his father William in an attempt to set the children's spirits free
What the FNAF movie is like:
-Mild to barely any gore, most we see is through pixel animation (the kids being lured away through the intro sequence) OR minor gore in dark lighting/silhouettes as to not be too violent for its rating, PG-13
-Animatronics are corrupted by the spirits of dead children, exacting vengeance on adults because of their killer (who in this case is manipulating their perception of memories to be their friend and ally), but being friendly toward other children
--The only exception to this is when they are corrupted by William Afton's influence, in the case of them attempting to put Abby in a springlock suit (that looks like the Ella dolls from the books but I think is intended to be this universe's Circus Baby because of Abby's anagram name for Baby)
-The movie is relatively scary in the aspect of environmental horror; dim lighting, sounds that have no origin and/or are meant to trip you up & make you uneasy, characters suddenly appearing in the doorways/entrances to the office; they are also heavily jumpscare-reliant (Foxy's runs down the hallway, the infamous Balloon Boy jumpscares, any instances of the animatronics throughout the film suddenly moving to kill or attack characters (Bonnie in the closet killing Hank, Freddy's spirit pulling Max in for the kill, Chica sending Karl through the vent after the older brother of Max & at Mike later in the movie), the Fritz/Foxy kid jumpscare during the dream sequence, Abby being suddenly pulled up from the ballpit to then cut back to Mike hearing her scream, I could go on but I think I made the point)
-The storytelling in the film, while not spectacular by any means, is synonymous to the writing in the games, where there's this awkwardness and humor to a lot of the story because of just how nonsensical it all is (which YES, admittedly kills the environmental horror atmosphere in parts of the story, even I can admit to that)
-While Mike, Abby and Garret aren't related to William in the film, they are clearly parallels to Michael, Circus Baby/Elizabeth and Crying Child in the games
--I would like to point out that Vanessa takes on the role of being William's daughter who wants to make him happy, which is more-so what Elizabeth is as a character, except she isn't partaking in the bloodshed, but she is pretty much a bystander to it all
--I mention Circus Baby in relation to Abby more than Elizabeth because Abby has more of a sarcastic wit and just generally feels closer in personality to Baby's in SL
(Okay now here's my stance on the movie, please read this before reblogging or commenting, it's important for context)
I feel like a lotta people (mainly the ones currently in their late teens & overall 20s-plus) forget a majority of the fanbase were in the target demographic nearly a decade ago when the games started (which was scary to many including myself back then), and now act like it's obligated to "grow up" to more mature content with its initial user base who are now grown adults. But there's still a LOT of young kids who are into the franchise now (again, the intended target demographic is young teens), and it wouldn't make sense if the scary-to-kids-but-not-really-to-adults jumpscare video game suddenly became some SAW-esque R-rated gruesome slasher film when that is never what the franchise was meant to be, nor did it ACT like that's what it was. If you want that, Wally's Wonderland is right there.
There's so much fan entitlement going on regarding the movie right now, it's deranged. You can dislike or hate the movie all you want, I have criticism for it too. I do feel like the tone shifted back and forth a lot, but not in the way where it would make sense for the storytelling. It could've been a lot better written in general, and the exposition dumps Vanessa has throughout could've easily been replaced with a newspaper about the MCI up on the wall while Mike's first walking through the pizzeria, him reacting to the smell from the rotting corpses in the bots, have one of Phone Guy's original recordings play or have the woman from the training video treat the video format in a similar vein.
The way I see it, I had low expectations going into the film and just expected general stuff from the initial game or two in an adjacent, but not exact, adaptation. I've been doing this low-expectation thing since Detective Pikachu, but always try to be optimistic. And the FNAF movie was pretty much exactly what I figured it would be, based on how its story is described through the Phone Guy calls and the post-Sister Location approach of dry/morbid humor mixed in with actual movement, beyond the sit-&-survive office we got used to in the first handful of titles. I really only expected that the animatronics were gonna be friendly with Abby based on FNAF 2's calls, and it was a solid prediction.
Was it a scary movie? No, not really. The jumps got me plenty, especially Max's death cause holy shit I wasn't expecting someone to get chomped in half (and also Balloon Boy, fuck you you little bastard), but the story wasn't scary. It was honestly a tragedy of events going on across all the characters, just really sad but more of a horror-mystery I suppose.
And again, you are allowed to have an opinion and not be satisfied with what was provided in the film. I think there's a lot of room for improvement, and I think it was LS Mark who pointed out in his video that this was Scott and his cowriters' first screenplay, so I agree that they should've had a couple other writers who mainly write films to help form it into a better story for a movie. But it was a serviceable adaptation, and was accurate to the level of extremes being depicted in the games (and no, not all of it works for film, but that's okay to be satisfied or dissatisfied with). And it is fucking exhausting seeing people act like FNAF was always some super horrifying mature adult thing when that's just what the fanmade horror content like FNAF VHS is (Don't support FNAF VHS tho, its creator's a creep who sent NSFW shit to an underage kid knowingly for several years :/ Nasty af).
I think its positives & negatives are generally the same as the Pokemon, Sonic & Mario adaptations as of recent, where you're having to form an entire 90-120 minute movie based off of a few voice lines or body language of the non-speaking characters, and a generally simple plotline. So it typically leads to serviceable movies, but nothing groundbreaking or a masterpiece by ANY means of the term (basically like 50-70% out of 100%, average but not above that from a writing standpoint; I personally have it at 8/10 because it definitely satisfied what I thought it was gonna be, though it's based on personal enjoyment and not its writing/storytelling).
I haven't read the FNAF books and honestly have no interest in doing so, so they don't really matter to me, but I know for a fact this is mostly based on FNAF1 (Ik William going by an alias was a Silver Eyes thing but again, haven't read it so that's the only similarity to the books that I know of). And for what it is, it did its job.
Recent video game film adaptations are very good at making fans happy with references, the similar storylines, and mostly game-accurate depictions of its characters. I think the biggest problem with them is that they stick so close to the games' stories, which are simplified for the sake of the gameplay loop, that the writers for these films are almost afraid to take risks and change a few things up in the way it's told in order to properly adapt & expand the story into a film format. Personally I think Sonic did it best so far based on its source material (though not by a lot), but I liked this movie about the same as Mario's.
It hit all the beats I figured it would hit based on the trailers, and I do feel bad for the people who didn't enjoy it the same way I did, even if their expectations were low or similar to my own. But Scott said in a recent post that he's been listening to people's criticism for the movie, and he generally takes good-faith criticism to heart for better products in future content as far as I've seen it over the years. So hopefully for the near-inevitable sequel, we'll get to see the wrinkles in the first movie's adaptation ironed out in the next film.
#linposts#fnaf#fnaf movie#fnaf movie spoilers#movie review#but also a rant#why yes I did spend two hours writing this in the middle of the night#keep discussion under this post in good faith or I'm disabling comments & reblogs but I REALLY don't want to do that if I don't have to#So please just be respectful to me & others' opinions in comments/reblogs/quotations of my post that's all I ask thank you
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i love these tags this person is so right
actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?
i wanna get into this actually
(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)
even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie
but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"
im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,
don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity
dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor
(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)
despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him
rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said
and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol
roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"
side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.
i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect
but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?
yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise
so, dave's environment
the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors
his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities
(source)
roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok
what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)
rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:
and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear
but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable
there two types of ironies at play here:
seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)
doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)
you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.
"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"
how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1
he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”
dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.
*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift
dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:
if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool.
even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.
basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"
speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use
oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”
btw dave lalonde would look like this to me
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do you believe me now? | 3
in which spencer reid spends a rainy day teaching inexperienced fem!reader how to touch him. of course, her efforts don't go unrecognized, much less unrewarded
part one | part two
18+ (smut)
warnings: inexperienced reader, softdom!spencer, sub reader, oral m receiving, reader swallows lol, a truly sickening amount of praise, like really, you JOKINGLY refer to each other as dirty sluts, r has longish hair, spit mentioned once, thigh riding (moans loudly), its filthy idk what to tell you, i feel like i've crossed the desert on foot i don't even know what else is in here, your honor they're in love, i take you to dinner first, this part is stupidly long
a/n: had a fucking field day the three separate times i had to rewrite this el oh el... but think i like how it turned out?! anyway, if u like this PLS lmk bc writing it took a small piece of my soul, and yes there will be a part four!! take care of yourselves!! i love you!!!
You give Spencer half a minute or so before knocking on his door for a second time.
It’s miserable outside, and though the hallway you’re standing in now isn’t terribly cold, you’d much prefer to be in Spencer’s apartment, where it will be the same toasty 68.5 degrees as always. Not that the heating will magically dry you. And not that you’ll be there for long, if the date you’d scheduled last week goes on as planned.
You’re getting worried, about to knock for a third time when the locks finally click and the door opens to reveal a disheveled Spencer Reid—not at all looking ready for a date. You take in his ensemble; blue checked pajama pants, FBI Academy crewneck, the usual questionably paired socks. He’s rubbing his droopy eyes, which slowly widen as he notices your attire.
“Shit, I’m sorry, our date! I mean—you look really nice. I look… like this. Why don’t you come in while I get ready to go?”
He holds the door open a little wider and you step through, relishing in the familiar warmth as you pull your hood down and excess water droplets spatter on the ground.
“When did you get in?” you ask, hanging your raincoat up on a hook. You know he’d wrapped up a case yesterday evening, but you’d gone to sleep before the team left Cincinnati.
Spencer pauses in the middle of the room, staring at the antique flooring like he forgot what he was doing.
“Uh… four hours ago.”
“Wh—four hours? Spencer, you must be exhausted.”
He laughs awkwardly, running a tired hand over his face.
“I mean… I’ve definitely felt better.”
You kick your soaked shoes off and cross the room until you’re toe to toe with him. Immediately his hands settle on your waist and yours find his arms. His eyes are kind, and he’s clearly pleased by your presence despite his lack of energy.
“The weather’s terrible, anyway. Let’s just go out another day.”
His features have softened and you can see how tired he truly is—not just in his bleary eyes, but the way his fingers grasp weakly to you, the way his head bows slightly. It seems bone-deep.
“But I haven’t seen you in a week. I don’t want you to go home.”
Your lips twist. A clap of thunder rolls in the distance and the rain starts coming down even harder against the windowpanes.
“We could hang out here. We can take a nap!”
Spencer sighs—half resignation, half disappointment.
“But we made such good plans,” he laments.
You kiss his cheek.
“Plans that can be rescheduled. The bookstore will still be there next weekend.”
It takes him a moment to settle into the idea, but you watch the exhaustion win.
“Okay. But no nap. I want to be awake for you. Coffee?”
You nod enthusiastically, beaming at the prospect of getting to spend the day doing nothing with him. Spencer mirrors your grin, before pressing a kiss to your head.
“You’re so cute.” Heat creeps into your cheeks and you can’t think of a satisfactory reply, but in the end you don’t need to, as he tugs gently on your hands. “C’mon. Tell me what mug you want.”
The kitchen counter bites into your palms as you lean with your back to it, watching Spencer putter all around the kitchen as he works on the coffee. It makes you tired just to watch.
“Are you sure you don’t want to take a nap? Caffeine isn’t a substitute for sleep, you know.”
“I do know,” he agrees, measuring coffee grounds. “But other than last night, I actually slept fairly well this week.”
“You seem exhausted.”
“I… am tired in lots of ways. Not all of which can be resolved with more sleep.” he admits.
Your heart drops ever so slightly at the way his voice weakens as he looks through the fridge. Sometimes you remember there are still things you don’t know about him—sides you haven’t met. His work side is one of them, and it more than a little intimidates you.
“Bad case?” you ask, voice quiet and crackling with nervous energy.
Spencer nods, approaching and setting a carton of milk on the counter behind you—caging you in with his arms in the process. It’s hard to find the words when he’s this close, but you manage to stumble through them.
“Do… do you wanna talk about it?”
Spencer hums, tilting his head before gently saying, “not right now. But thank you for offering, lovely.”
“Okay, well—if you change your mind… if there’s anything I can do to make you feel better…”
Finally he stops with the teasing—the unabashed staring at your lips, the faux-attentive nods—and drops his head to your level to kiss you properly. It’s obviously an attempt to get you to shut up, you’re not dumb enough so as to miss that—but you don’t really care why he’s doing it so long as he does it at all.
“I feel pretty great right now, actually,” he murmurs against your lips, a hint of a smile coloring his words. “Do you want sugar in yours?”
“Um…”
Your eyes dart helplessly between his as he pulls away and you struggle to un-fluster yourself enough to answer his simple question. Spencer seems to delight in this. The longer it takes you, the bigger his perfect smile gets.
“You took too long. You’re getting sugar.”
“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do?” you plead later on the couch, for the third or fourth time, setting your mostly-empty mug on the coffee table.
His eyebrows raise.
“I’m sure, honey.”
“But I want to help,” you pout, pulling your knees into your chest. Spencer regards you for a moment from the other end of the couch, before beckoning you closer wordlessly.
“You are helping,” he assures you, gently grabbing your wrist as you crawl into his lap. He rubs soothing circles into the delicate skin with his thumb. “You being here and being you is plenty.”
It’s the closest you’ve been to him since before he left, and while you’ve all but given up on asking him to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you don’t think about it multiple times per day. It’s especially difficult to keep your thoughts PG when you haven’t seen him in a week, and his hair is all messy, and he’s got his pajamas on, and you’re in his lap, and he’s looking at you like that.
“What are you thinking about?” Spencer murmurs, likely concerned by your lack of response and the glazed-over look in your eyes. You reanimate, averting your gaze to the spot on your thigh he’s now rubbing absentmindedly.
“Nothing. I just missed you.”
“I missed you a lot, too.” You don’t even have to look up to know that his brows have twisted into a pleasant sort of bemusement, like you are a particularly complex puzzle—you can hear it as he continues speaking. “I’m still not used to having something external take up so much of my attention while I’m trying to do my job. I’ve never had that before. Not something good, anyway. It’s like every time I leave, I’m thinking about you more than the time before. And I was already thinking about you a lot.”
The corner of your mouth twitches as he rambles.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really,” he chuckles. “You prove to be incredibly distracting even when you’re hundreds of miles away. Do you know how many nights I almost called you before realizing it was one in the morning?”
A slow smile spreads over your face.
“Oh? Whatever could you have been calling about at one in the morning?”
You’re teasing him, and it works. He blushes adorably.
“Um… probably exactly what you’d expect. In hindsight I think it’s best that I refrained.”
“What?” You grin, incredulous, forgetting your shyness and leaning closer. “You totally should’ve. I’ve never had phone sex before. I would’ve done it.”
“No, you wouldn’t!” Spencer laughs. “It would have just been me talking to myself with you on the other line. I don’t think phone sex is really up your alley.”
“Shut up,” you laugh as your lips meet. He smiles into the kiss. Before you get too lost in it, you pull away, leaning back when he tries to follow you. “I think you’re over-complicating it. It’s just dirty talk, right? I can totally do that. It’s just, like… blah blah blah, dirty slut, something something…”
You trail off as he gives you a look. Poker faced—aside from the slightly narrowed eyes sparkling with humor.
“You want me to refer to you as a dirty slut?”
Maintaining eye contact is an uphill battle—you crack in a matter of seconds, resting your forehead against his and closing your eyes stubbornly.
“No. For all you know I want to call you a dirty slut.”
It’s a ridiculous, but he recognizes the bravado for what it is, still smiling slightly as he rubs your hips.
“Right. I apologize for assuming. But just for future reference, I don’t want to be called that, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable calling you that, either.”
“But you can call me other stuff,” you remind your boyfriend, pulling back and still not looking at him.
“Yeah? Like what?”
And just like that, you’re shy again.
“I don’t know… nice things. I like when you’re nice.”
“I like being nice to you.” It’s so sincere-sounding that you meet his gaze, examining his face. His eyes are clear and soft on you, the only source of warm light on such a grey day, as his hands keep running slow lines over your sides. “Kiss?”
And how could you ever deny him anything?
As has happened before, the kiss starts out innocent enough. And it’s not that it gets particularly heated, or anything—it’s just that it doesn’t end, and after a few moments your mouth slips open and so does his and that’swhat gets both of you worked up over a period of minutes. Pressure and heat that you’re becoming accustomed to build between your legs, and you don’t even notice that you’ve begun rocking back and forth in his lap until Spencer is attempting to still your hips with patient but assertive hands.
“Honey, that’s—slow down, sweetheart.”
Finally he gets a grip on you and you realize as soon as you stop moving that there had been friction occurring—and you’re pretty damn sure you know what you were grinding against.
Your whole body feels hot with arousal and embarrassment.
“Oh my god—I’m sorry,” you mumble, moving your hands from his shoulders to cover your face. “That was an accident, I—”
“It’s fine,” Spencer assures you, squeezing your waist gently. “I just wanted to make sure you knew what you were doing because I know we haven’t… gotten there, yet.”
A moment passes—your hands fall to the FBI stitching across his chest, studying the letters without really seeing them. You haven’t gotten there yet… but why not? Why haven’t you touched him, or even seen him? You think back to the few times he’s touched you and realize that you had been too busy with either your own insecurities or pleasure to genuinely consider how it might be affecting him. He says your name gently, drawing your attention.
“You okay?”
You nod haltingly, brow furrowed as you think.
“I—yeah. I was just realizing that I haven’t, like… touched you, yet.”
It’s silent for another long second, and you glance up, to where he’s studying you with a dissonant kind of relaxed scrutiny—a knowing confidence that probably comes with a lot more experience than you have.
“Do you want to?”
Woah.
Usually you have to beg on hands and knees and prepare a slideshow presentation before he agrees to doing anything sexual in nature. He’s never so overtly invited or initiated it before. Not that you’re complaining by any stretch of the imagination.
You nod shyly, still fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.
“If you want to, I can show you how. But it’s also absolutely okay if you don’t.”
Show you how?
Your brain is melting into sludge at the idea.
“I do,” you admit, meeting his gaze again. It’s kind, and you know he really wouldn’t be upset if you said no—but now that you’ve thought about it, you feel deeply compelled to try.
“Okay. Come here, first.” You lean forward expectantly, eyes fluttering shut as his hand finds the back of your neck and he pulls you into another soft kiss. By the time your lips separate again, your head is spinning. “We’re just trying something, okay? You’re allowed to stop whenever you feel like it. Really low stakes. Got it?”
You nod, still close enough that your noses brush as you do.
“Got it.”
He presses one more chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away and leaning back into the couch.
“Scoot back a little, angel.”
Wordlessly you do so, heart pounding with nervous excitement as he lifts his hips and slides his pajama pants down just enough to where he can comfortably pull himself out, and—
Your breath catches.
Now, you may be about as virginal as they come, but you weren’t born yesterday. You’ve seen porn, you’ve received unsolicited nudes—it is the 21st century. Yet never before have you thought to yourself; wow, that dick is the pinnacle of beauty. Perfect. Breathtaking. But there’s just no other way to describe him.
So that’s what hits you first—how unexpectedly pretty it is.
The size sinks in a quick second later.
You can’t tell with perfect accuracy how many inches he is, but you’re pretty damn sure he’s big. That’s meant to fit inside of you?
No, no—that’s a consideration for another day. Right now you need to stop staring like an idiot. You glance up at his face, and he’s sporting a cocky little half-smile which lets you know you’ve been caught. Motherfucker he’s so hot. It’s unnerving.
“Do you have something you’d like to say?” he asks politely, quite obviously containing his amusement. But you can’t summon a sufficiently sarcastic response.
Your voice comes so soft when you reply, “you’re pretty.”
Spencer melts, eyes impossibly softening.
“Pretty?” His smile is earnest now. He strokes your cheek and you can’t not lean into his touch.
“Mhm. I want to, um…” your lips twist to the side as you look back down, finding he’s not gotten less intimidating since you last checked. “But what if I’m bad at it?” you whisper. He chuckles, brushing hair over your shoulder.
“It’s kind of a hard thing to be bad at. And I’m gonna help you, okay?”
It’s the honesty with which he speaks to you that makes you feel so safe. There are no hidden intentions or words that seem to mean one thing but really mean another. Spencer wants you as a person more than he wants you as a body and that’s been clear since the first time he touched you. You take a deep breath.
“Okay. What do I do?”
“First, you’re gonna spit in your hand.”
You look up, alarmed.
“You want me to intentionally get my spit on you? Is that not your worst nightmare?”
“Believe it or not, I’m not super worried about yours,” he teases. “But if you’d prefer, I can spit in your hand.”
“Actually, mine is fine,” you laugh nervously.
Hesitantly, you do as instructed, even though it seems frankly bizarre.
“Good. Now just wrap your hand around it, like this.” His voice is quiet, focused as he guides your hand downward. Your heart rate ticks up again as he encourages you to wrap your hand around the base of his cock. He feels much warmer than you’d expected—his skin is silken beneath your touch but he’s undeniably hard and that sort of eliminates any sense of him being fragile from the equation.
“It’s gonna be less sensitive down here—and then, up here—” he slides your hand back up, covering your thumb with his own and swiping it just below the head of his cock on the underside. He hisses and you look up in fascination. “That’s the most sensitive part.”
Without further instruction, you do it again, keeping your touch light and watching his face for a reaction. His drawn brows twitch, furrowing deeper for a second, and his lips part. A heavy exhalation passes between them and quickly builds into a breathy laugh.
“What?” you murmur, over-eager to please and very nervous to do something wrong.
“Nothing. Just feels good, that’s all.”
“Don’t laugh,” you pout. Of course that makes him laugh again, and he leans forward to kiss your head.
“I’m laughing at myself, angel. I’m a grown man fighting for my life from a handjob that you’ve barely started. I knew it would be different with you but I didn’t realize it would be this different.”
Heat rises in your cheeks and you look away.
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better.”
“I’m not lying,” he urges, grabbing your free hand and encouraging you to uncurl your fingers. His thumb traces circles in your open palm, before capturing your entire hand in his. “Do you feel how much softer your hand is than mine?”
You frown, attempting to feel whatever it is that he’s pointing out. Despite the fact that you think he has very nice hands, you realize he’s right. By no means would you say that they’re rough, but you can tell where his gun normally sits in his hands, where his fountain pen rubs against his fingers. “Yeah.”
“Yeah. Anything you do is going to be perfect because it’s you.”
Spencer drops his hand to your leg, rubbing it soothingly. The other moves to cover yours—the one wrapped around him.
“You’re gonna help me, right?” you ask quietly. Some adventurous part of you is very excited about this as an experiment—fascinated by the reactions you’ve already gotten from him and eager to push it.
“I am. Little bit tighter, honey. I’ll tell you if it’s too much.”
You do as you’re told, and he’s murmuring more praise—slowly encouraging you to begin moving your hand with his own. A shaky exhale catches your attention, drawing your gaze to his face. His eyes are, of course, cast downward, but his expression is hypnotizing. Those lips remain slightly parted, and suddenly you wonder if he makes noises like you do. In that moment it becomes your life’s mission to find out.
For a while you continue letting his hand guide your movements, but he keeps things so slow for your sake that you’re getting impatient. You forgo his direction, picking up the pace but trying to keep the rhythm he’d instilled in the motion. His hand slackens around yours.
“Fuck,” he hisses to himself. The hand on your thigh rubs achingly deeper into the flesh. “Angel, what are you doing?”
“I want it to feel good.” Suddenly shy again, you slow down. His hips stutter, which you think may be a sign that it was working. “Am I—was that bad?” Spencer looses a breath, looking almost… frustrated?
“No, I’m just—I’m weirdly close to coming.”
“That’s a good thing, right?”
“Well,” he mutters, “not usually. Mostly it’s embarrassing.”
You giggle, a release of some tension, and begin pumping your hand again. His breath hitches and he finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes with his own lust-glazed ones. Heat pools deep between your legs.
“I want you to come,” you admit quietly as you twist your wrist, brushing that spot underneath the head of his cock again. His jaw literally drops, and a look that is part confusion, part pleasure, twists his features. You see the surprise sparkling in his eyes and it only spurs you to keep talking. “I’ve never seen how you look when you do, but I’ve imagined it. I bet you look so pretty when you come, Spencer. ‘Nd then I would know that I can make you feel good, too.”
“You… you are making me feel good,” he assures you. The way his brow furrows and his lips are parted give you a feeling that’s entirely new. Normally, you’re the one falling apart under his touch—but when it’s the other way around there’s a whole new kind of pleasure in it for you. You feel kind of powerful. Maybe even close to confident.
“Really? I’m not this quiet when you touch me.”
“I’ve ha—ah—had more practice not making noise.”
“But why?” you implore, ignoring the fact that he’s slept with other women and enjoyed the sounds they made, and opting to brush your thumb across that extra sensitive part he definitely shouldn’t have told you about. His hips buck up and he hisses, which is immensely gratifying to you.
“Because I like to listen.”
“What if I do, too?”
In a moment of divine inspiration , you cover the tip of his cock with your hand, swirling beads of pre-come over your palm. Spencer moans and his hips jut up into your grip. It’s a beautiful sound, just as you’d hoped.
“Jesus, fuck.”
You understand why he seems to enjoy touching you so much. It’s so rewarding to watch as his breathing picks up and pleasure contorts his face—to watch him get messier and messier and lose his composure a bit more with each stroke of your hand. It’s so simple but Spencer looks at you like you’re exercising some arcane deviant power over him and he’s not sure he should be enjoying it as much as he is.
Distantly you think about how it felt when he had his hands on you—and then, in clearer focus, how it felt when he went down on you. Both were perfect, but something about his lips so gentle on the most intimate, vulnerable part of you had felt like ascension. Maybe it was the emotional component, or maybe it just felt fucking good. Regardless, it seems an irresistible thought.
You keep stroking him until his head is lolling on the back of the couch as he groans.
“Spencer?”
“Yeah, baby?”
He sounds so destroyed it makes you clench around nothing. Without any indication that you’re going to do so, you stop touching him, and the speed with which he lifts his head again is almost comical. Immediately, while he’s utterly defenseless and desperate, you ask, “can I use my mouth?”
His eyes widen, and then shut, as he processes your request with a tiny shake of his head—probably trying to clear the haze of pleasure from his mind before he answers.
“Honey,” he rasps eventually, opening his eyes and smoothing a hand over your hair, “you don’t have to do that just because I do. That’s not why I do it.”
“But I want to,” you murmur, shy and mildly embarrassed by what feels almost like a soft rejection. “I don’t think I could do anything, like, mind-blowing, but… I want to try.”
Your face is hot by the end of the sentence, and you can’t meet Spencer’s eyes as his fingers twitch over your hip. A quiet moment passes—but it’s short-lived.
“Okay. Go ahead, baby.”
Wide eyes dart up to his.
“Really?”
Spencer smiles fondly, brushing an invisible speck from your cheek.
“I don’t think I’m capable of turning that offer down. Not when it’s you.”
“Okay—um, should I just—” Spencer watches on, finding your sudden enthusiasm completely adorable as you scoot off of his lap and gingerly kneel in front of him. Your eyes are big and glassy as you look up at him, hands set politely on his knees. You squint suspiciously, eyes darting between his face and his cock, now about as hard as it’s ever been due to your toying. He knows it’s probably intimidating for a girl who has never seen one in real life, and he feels kind of bad about it. You do terrible, wonderful things to him that he doesn’t understand. “Wow. So... it looks bigger from down here.”
“Please don’t try to choke yourself,” he instructs hurriedly, leaning forward slightly. “I really don’t need you to do that. It’s fine if you can’t fit it all, I just—” he exhales shakily. Spencer is most definitely strong-willed but he can’t pretend like the sight of you on your knees for him, inches from his aching cock for the first time isn’t impacting his cognition. Most importantly he doesn’t want to make you feel pressured. He’s trying to not let how badly he wants this show in case you change your mind.
Spencer watches as you psych yourself out—wilting like a thirsty flower.
“But what if I’m bad at this?” you mumble, hands curling into loose fists atop his legs. Spencer pushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ears.
“What’s your worst case scenario?” he asks. Your answer is immediate.
“That I’m so bad you make me stop halfway through.”
Spencer can’t help but laugh again.
“I’m sorry—I just… honey, you are really underestimating how profound your effect is on me. I just almost came from a minute long handjob. I can assure you that I won’t make you stop halfway through because I’d rather not have your mouth on me. That is… that’s just not going to happen.”
You lean your cheek against his thigh. He might actually pass away.
“Will you tell me if I’m doing something wrong?”
“Honestly, as long as you don’t bite, you’re in the clear.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your lips pull into an embarrassed little smile.
“Great. Thank you for that invaluable advice.”
“Of course,” he smiles. It fades slowly as you take a deep breath and look up at him, obviously steeling yourself, before leaning forward and taking him in your hand again. He watches with bated breath, repeating no sudden movements to himself over and over as your hand moves up and down a few more times and your head lowers.
You delicately, so lightly trace your tongue from the base of his swollen cock to just underneath the leaking tip, mapping a vein, and his hips buck as you take him into your mouth experimentally. Only the first few inches fit but the sight of your lips wrapped around him, the way you’re looking at him is so unbelievably erotic Spencer knows he won’t last very long.
From a purely technical perspective—he knows he’s gotten objectively better head. Still, something about the way you’re so delicate with him, so soft and timid in the way you lick and kiss and take him into your mouth has him fighting not to come already. Maybe it’s wrong, but knowing that he’s watching you do this for the first time in your life is obscenely arousing. The idea that you’ve never trusted another person this much; that you’re letting him be the one to help you navigate something as new and as important as sexuality. The more he thinks about it, though, the more he realizes: it’s not your inexperience that turns him on. It’s just you. Everything you do is so undeniably you—he recognizes your mannerisms in every tiny motion, in every glance, and it’s killing him. You’re like a dream as you look up at him with big nervous eyes, (no, really, he has had this dream) and he remembers he wants to be reassuring you—not pondering life and human connection.
“Look at you,” he murmurs, groaning and hips twitching as your cheeks hollow, wrapping his achingly hard cock in soft gentle warmth so sweetly it feels taboo. “So good, baby. So gorgeous like this.”
You whine around him, receptive as always to his obsequious praise, and he notices the way your hips wiggle as you seek friction. God, you must like this a lot. Spencer gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, resting his hand on your head as you begin to bob it. That, he wasn’t prepared for. He’d have been satisfied with just kitten-licks and suckling but he won’t complain about this. It’s slow, and so intentional as you keep watching him for feedback cues. Ever his observant girl, you’re constantly paying attention. Aware of his reactions. He needs to keep telling you you’re good or else you’ll assume you’re terrible.
“Over-achiever,” he whispers through a little smile as you down even more of him.
Spencer is for the most part a kind and gentle person. For better or worse he is also a man, and he can’t help but fantasize about getting you all teary and drooly as he holds your mouth open and sees how much of his cock he can push down your throat. But again—kind. Gentle. So when you get a little over-zealous, attempting to sacrifice your comfort for his pleasure, he pulls your head back slightly. “That’s far enough, angel. That’s—fuck. God, you’re good at this.” The words are thoughtless, muttered to himself more than you as he watches through a haze while you look up at him with glassy, half-lidded eyes, slipping him in and out of your warm mouth, a little faster now as you gain confidence.
You whine desperately around him, like you’re the one nearing orgasm and not him. The sound of your pleasure as you suck his cock makes him dizzy. His hips buck, pressing him a little deeper into your mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he exhales. “Slow down, baby. I’m—” a louder moan from him like you’ve never heard as he thrusts shallowly turns you on profoundly. He’s so much more vocal than you’d have imagined—sonically and verbally. He breathes out a quick, “fuck, fuck, fuck,” pulling your hair slightly, and you’ve never wanted to touch yourself more but you know you can’t focus on both. Instead you work on making him come—you can worry about you later. He says your name, with an authoritative edge to his tone that makes you throb. “Honey, if you don’t stop, I’m gonna come—”
You swirl your tongue around the top of him like candy and he’s done for. Spencer tries to pull out, which only results in cum both in your mouth and on your face. The orgasm is his strongest in recent memory, and he grunts, watching your lips part and a little squeak escape as he comes all over your face—but you keep stroking him all the while. Once he’s 90% sure it’s over, he falls against the back of the couch, breathing heavily and looking down at you through hazy eyes. Oh, he’s going to feel terrible about this in a few seconds—but right now you look fucking perfect. Your eyes are wide, nervous as his essence drips over your face and down your neck—he groans when you swallow cautiously, averting his eyes to the ceiling lest he do another thing he regrets.
“Baby, I am so sorry,” he mutters, forcibly clearing the haze of orgasm from his mind and sitting up, fixing his pants and looking around before locating the box of tissues on the side table. “I’m so, so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” You look up at him attentively as he wipes himself from your face as gently as he can.
“Why not?”
“Because I didn’t ask you first. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”
Spencer guides your head around by your chin, wiping your jaw and lips.
“It’s okay, Spence, I—”
“No, it’s not,” he cuts you off, trying to at least turn his guilt into a learning experience for you. He’s not deluded enough to think someone like you will stay with someone like him forever, because sometimes he does things like that, and he’s reminded that there are certainly people out there more deserving of you. At the very least he can clarify that nobody should ever do what he just did to you. “It’s really not nice to do that to someone.”
“Do you care what I think at all?”
Spencer freezes, finally forcing himself to look you in the eye. Despite the fact that he’s mad at himself, he’s sure it’s coming across as being directed at you. And he knows you’re sensitive, especially about this kind of thing.
“Of course, I do, baby. I’m sorry. Do you want to come back up here with me and tell me what you’re thinking?” he murmurs, cupping your jaw. Hesitantly you nod. The tissues end up on the table—which he will be thoroughlywiping down later—before you crawl back into his lap from the floor. Spencer helps you settle against him, hoping he hasn’t messed this up irreversibly. He keeps his voice quiet as he rubs your leg. “What were you going to say?”
“I was going to say,” you begin, “that it’s fine, because you’ll remember to ask next time. And because… I kind of liked it. I like when—when you do stuff like that.”
It’s a miracle he can hear you with the way your voice drops into an almost-whisper and you’re hiding against his shirt.
“Like what?” he murmurs. Although he’s not sure he’ll be able to handle the answer.
“Like… I don’t know. Like you can do whatever you want to me. Like I’m literally yours.” Each word makes you cringe further, but Spencer has to try hard to maintain a cool facade as he processes this. If he’s going to try and be chivalrous, you’ll have to move away from this topic—this revelation—immediately. Thankfully, you seem eager to move on. “So… how did I do?”
He almost laughs. It seems exceedingly obvious how you did, but as per usual, you require verbal reassurance.
“That was really good, baby. You did well.”
You blossom.
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t lie.”
“Was I the best girl out of all of the other girls?”
I wasn’t in love with any of the other girls.
Just barely, he manages to stop himself from saying it, pinwheeling his arms on the edge of a very steep verbal cliff. The realization that he’s been in love with you for a while hits him like a truck. But he can’t tell you that right now. He should wait until you’re less vulnerable.
Fuck.
He really wants to tell you right now.
“Actually—don’t answer that,” you decide, while all of this happens in his head in less than a few seconds. “I want to go back to pretending I’m the only girl you’ve ever seen in your life.”
“You’re the only one that matters,” he offers, relieved to express at least some portion of the much bigger truth. Then he frowns. “Not that the other women I’ve met don’t lead important lives. I actually know a lot of incredibly influential and intelligent people who are women. I have deep respect for all of them. Am I helping or making it worse?” he rambles. You giggle. He has his answer. “What about you? How do you feel?” he asks after a moment, tenderly, lowly, stroking your hair as you lean against his chest.
It takes you a moment to deliberate, fiddling with the fabric of his shirt.
“I feel good. I, um… liked it a lot more than I would have thought.”
“Well, that’s good. Much better than if you had hated every second of it.”
You hum in agreement, and he waits for you to say whatever you’re holding back. It comes sooner than he’d have anticipated.
“I feel bad about the times before. How did you just… go to sleep after? Were you not, like—insanely turned on? Not that I’m, like, irresistibly sexy, or whatever—you know what I mean.”
Spencer smiles because he knows you can’t see him.
“I wasn’t doing it to pressure you into feeling obligated to reciprocate, I guess. My line of reasoning was that it would be less intimidating if I didn’t even present it as an option until you wanted to try.”
“Oh.”
Spencer thinks he sees where this is going.
“Why?” he asks, leaning back and encouraging you to look at him. “Are you insanely turned on?”
“Wh—that’s—I didn’t say that!”
Spencer can feel how warm your cheeks are as he presses his lips to the side of your face.
“You can tell me if you are,” he murmurs, all smiley as he moves to kiss your lips. “If you want something, you need to ask for it. I’m not a mind reader.”
“Yes you are,” you grumble. “That’s literally what behavioral analysis is.”
Not quite true, but surprisingly, he doesn’t feel the need to explain to you the semantics of what he does for work right now.
“What got you all excited?”
“You know what,” you mumble, trying to look away again. Spencer doesn’t allow it this time, gently grabbing your jaw.
“Yes, I do. But I want you to tell me. If you want me to make you feel good, this is how you’re going to convince me that you deserve it.”
You whine wordlessly, looking at him with those big, lust-glazed eyes.
“You wanted me to teach you how to use your words, right? This is it. I’m giving you an opportunity. If you don’t want to, that’s okay. Maybe we can take a nap, like you said earlier.”
“No! I liked—um, I liked all of it. I didn’t know if I would, because I was really nervous. But when I first—you know—and you got all quiet… it was like you couldn’t even talk for a minute. I was kind of proud of that. Because normally nobody can ever get you to stop talking.” Spencer narrows his eyes incredulously, a small smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t interrupt—not when it seems you’re finally starting to get more confident in your words. “And I really liked the noises you made. I think that was my favorite part. I liked when you pulled my hair back, and how you spoke to me. And when… when you got me messy and I had to swallow it. I really liked how it felt because I couldn’t think of anything else, just making you feel good. I really wanted to… make you proud, I guess. Is that weird?”
Spencer shakes his head no, a fond smile on his face when your eyes meet his again.
“No. It’s a pretty normal thing to feel when you’re nervous and wanting to impress someone you care about. And I would have been proud no matter what, for the record. You were being very brave.”
You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, watching him expectantly. Spencer should have known you’re too needy to truly absorb anything he says to you right now. Which is actually pretty cute. Everything you do is endearing to him.
“Stand up.”
You frown.
“But—”
“Just stand up,” he demands calmly, preferring to think of himself as firm and not bossy.
You do, looking rather annoyed and confused as you plant yourself in front of him.
“Why?”
“You are so full of questions.” His hands slip up the side of your legs, under your skirt, and hook in the waistband of your underwear. Spencer looks up at you meaningfully and you nod, swallowing.
As he pulls down, Spencer can literally feel the resistance of the fabric clinging to your soaked core. Under his touch the skin of your thighs is warm and soft. He wants to feel it on either side of his face, he wants to hear you whine as his stubble rubs against it, he wants to feel it clamp around his wrist, he wants it between his teeth and he definitely wants it pressing against his hips as he—
But no.
There will be time for all of those things—especially the last one—later. For now, he’ll reach between your legs just to see—
“Oh, my god,” Spencer half-chuckles, half-groans, upon feeling how wet you truly are for him. He drags his knuckles from your dripping entrance up over your clit, pinching very lightly and earning a squeak from you which he ignores. “You really did like having your mouth full of me, huh?”
“I told you,” you breathe, visibly relaxing some as he continues to play with you for a moment. Then he pulls his hand away again, patting his thigh.
“Sit.”
“You want me to…”
“Yes,” he says, simply.
“But is it not going to… am I not going to mess up your pants?”
“You are even more neurotic about messiness than I am. I can wash them, honey. Come here.”
Spencer guides your hips over his thigh, watching your pretty face twist with uncertainty as you fully settle on him. Fuck, he can feel your warmth through the fabric instantly. Already he’s getting hard again.
“What am I supposed to do?” you whisper, bunching his shirt in your fists. Spencer slides your skirt up higher, revealing the way you’re nestled against his thigh. He spreads you a little further apart, exposing more of your clit to the material underneath you. Immediately you press against him—he watches the delicate flesh rubbing gingerly against him and his grip tightens ever so slightly.
“All you have to do is rock back and forth. It’s easy.”
Already you’re starting to do it—but he guesses it’s like earlier where you don’t even realize it’s happening.
“But… I wanted your mouth,” you admit, quietly, slinging your arms around his neck and burying your face there.
“Do this for me first. Just get yourself off like this one time and then you can have my mouth. You said you wanted to help me feel better because I’m tired today, right?
“Yes,” you mumble, squirming over him.
“Well, there are a lot of days when I get back home and I’m tired. I’m gonna need you to be able to get on top of me, just like this, and make me feel better. And I know you don’t know what it feels like to have something that deep inside of you yet, but it’s gonna be a lot. Even once you know how it feels to have me inside when you’re underneath me. I need you to practice for me right now so you’ll be ready, okay?”
You could come from the words alone. You nod, dazed with need as you roll your hips in a circle, pressing his thigh against your clit.
“Back and forth, baby,” he murmurs, guiding your hips forward with his hands locked around them. “Back and forth, just like this…”
You moan quietly, shamelessly, eyes fluttering as you look down and watch your clit dragging over the darkening fabric. It’s easier if you isolate your hips, grinding down without moving your legs or upper body at all.
“It feels really good,” you whisper under your quickening breath.
“Yeah? Does it?”
“Mhm.”
“Good, angel. You look like you know what you’re doing.”
It’s audible now, quiet and wet and dirty.
“I don’t,” you breathe. He sucks in a breath of his own, stilling your hips with fingers pressed deep into your flesh.
“Sit up, baby.” You really wish he would stop making you stop, but you don’t want to keep going in case he needs you to quit—so you rise slowly, thighs trembling as you kneel. Spencer groans at the strings of your arousal momentarily connecting your core to his pants before they snap, getting your inner thighs wet. There’s a dark, very wet patch over his thigh, shining like glass. He thumbs over your slick clit absentmindedly as he looks up at you like you’re a miracle. “You’re fucking soaked. I’ve never seen you like this. Is this all from making me come?”
You nod feverishly, hips grinding against nothing in search of friction. He sits you back down on his leg, allowing you to sloppily find your rhythm again. Spencer bounces his leg lightly and you cry out softly, buckling forward. His arms wrap around you, still pressing you down against his thigh as you rut against it.
“You’re sweet. Maybe I should have known how much you’d like it when I came all over your pretty face. You really like hearing that you did a good job, huh? I bet you like it even more when I prove it to you.”
You moan a “yeah,” barely processing his words.
“My good girl even swallowed on her first try. Took it so well. And now look at how you’re taking this. You’re gonna love riding, baby. Just going to be another thing you’re good at as soon as you try it.”
“Spencer,” you gasp, overwhelmed by the praise. He’s bouncing his leg at regular intervals and everything is so sensitive.
“I know it’s harder to finish this way, but just one time, remember? And then you can have my tongue for as long as you want. You are my only plan for the day. Just give me one like this.”
But it’s not really harder to finish this way. Then again, you’re so turned on you could probably finish if a breeze hit you just right. Regardless, the thought of him going down on you again pushes you even closer to the edge.
You don’t know how much time goes by like that, you rubbing against him like it’s the last thing you’ll ever do, him pressing up into you until the pressure is so taut it snaps. There’s no time to warn him, but you suppose you don’t really need to. You writhe against him, caught between wanting to keep going and not being able to take more stimulation. He lifts you up just slightly, trying to separate you from his leg. You exhale deeply as your body relaxes, already close to dozing off against his chest.
“We can’t have you tapping out just yet. I still have to fulfill my end of the deal.”
In the end, he fulfills it three times over, and you end up showing your appreciation in kind one more time—much slower and more comfortably in his bed. He gives you plenty of time to learn what he likes, taking your teasing and coquettish explorations like a champ and never so much as tightening his grip in your hair. Turns out, you don't exactly spend the day doing nothing.
And you do end up taking that nap after all. Just... much, much later. And with less clothing on.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#criminal minds smut#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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can you write miles 42 having readers bank account, card ALL that on his phone and gets mad if she purchases shi with money he didint give her. its really crazy but its miles 42....what do you expect??? hehe
Sure love!!!
A/n: y’all I love you so much but I need you guys to start requesting regular miles fanfic pls. Although 42 miles owns my 🩷
It was just a simple necklace. It was the Vivienne Westwood necklace that you saw everyone around you wearing and wanted so badly. You knew Miles would get it for you in a heartbeat but a part of you wanted to get it for yourself. It had been a long, stressful semester but you struggled through it all and got to a point where ou were passing with A’s and B’s. Coincidentally, you had gotten a job at Starbucks after months of applying and you had about $1000 saved up of your own money that you were waiting to spend on something special. That was, until that “something special” came along in the form of Miles.
You never knew what he did but you knew he was making 8x your salary in a month. It seemed like anything you wanted, you got when you were with Miles; shoes, clothes, books, makeup any and everything you wanted, it was yours in a matter of days. It’s worth mentioning that Miles is extremely overprotective and wants to know everything about what you’re doing and buying because he loves you and cares about your habits.
Even on Miles’s birthday when you dipped into your savings to get him the latest Jordan’s, he was furious that you had to use your own money:
“Damn Ma, these are valid. How much were they?”
“Oh don’t worry about it” you said
“I said, how much were they.” His eyes narrowing in on you because he knew how much they were because he was gonna buy them 2 weeks ago but decided not to.
“$500. I’ve been saving for them for you, baby. It’s all good” you tried to assure him
“Aight. thank you.” He said, pulling you close to him, the scent of the Dior Sauvage cologne you also bought him, filling your nostrils
But deep down you knew he was pissed off and mad that you spent your own money, so after a long talk about how he should be able to keep tabs on you and keep you safe, you gave him your Apple Pay and banking info for emergencies only but of course it’s Miles and being the overprotective boyfriend he is, he checks it everyday for any “extravagant purchases” made by you or someone else.
Of course he isn’t crazy, he set a $25 limit for you before he steps in and asks what’s up. Once, you were at a mall with your friend and found the cutest shirt at Urban Outfitters and decided to buy it. The price tag read $50 but you went ahead and got it; the same happened at Bath and Body Works and Tilly’s and as you made your way to the bathroom, you got a text from Miles:
Miles: did someone take your card?
You: no why??
Miles: why’d you spend $150 in an hour??
You: I’m at the mall
Miles: so? I pay for your shit
You: dawg it’s $150. It’s not that deep 💀
Miles: I ain’t yo “dawg” and yes it is when Yk I buy you shit
You: you aren’t my sugar daddy
Miles: I basically am atp. I’m sending you $1000, buy something cute
You contemplated leaving him on seen but you remembered how he hates that so you replied:
You: Okay
You had saved up enough to get the necklace and when you got it, you were ecstatic. You thought about all of the possible outfit combos and how good it will look against your brown skin but your thoughts were interrupted by a certain someone:
Miles: what’d I tell you, Mami?
You: ?
Miles: don’t play dumb, yk I would’ve bought you that necklace in a heartbeat but instead you wanted to be miss independent and buy it yourself. I guess since you’re so independent, I’ll stop sending you that $1000 every week. How about that?
You: ok
Miles: ?
You: we can discuss this when I get home
Miles: K
You: k
It was a long ride home but eventually you accepted that Miles was gonna rip your head off and there wasn’t anything you could do about it.
When you got home, he had three of the necklaces, two huge teddy bears, a bouquet of your favorite flowers and the newest pair of Jordan’s waiting for you:
“What’s all this?” You smiled and asked
“I told you I’ll pay for your shit, y/n” miles said, with a small smirk on his face
#mcu fanfiction#miles morales x y/n#miles x reader#miles morales#miles morales fanfiction#miles morales x reader#miles morales headcannons#miles!spiderman#miles!prowler#spider man: across the spider verse#across the spiderverse#spider verse#Spider-Man#the prowler#earth 42#earth42!miles#marvel#marry me#i love him#for you
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she mumbled that i was peculiar
sukuna x reader
summary: impressively, sukuna is still trying to find ways to deny his feelings for you. nevertheless, he keeps you safe from harm when a late night trip to the store doesn't go as planned. will seeing his violent nature for yourself change the way you feel about him? he seems to think so.
w/c: 4.2k (oops)
tags/warnings: angst to fluff. attempted kidnapping. canon typical violence. depictions of blood. reader throws up. reader is in shock for a bit. cursing. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. *please mind the warnings for this chapter*
a/n: i'm sorry this took so long! im ngl, i struggled quite a bit to write this chapter. i'm still unsure about the pacing, but here it is anyway. thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy!
series masterlist // masterlist
it's not often that you go out for the evening, but tonight is one such occasion. you leave around seven, excited to meet nobara and maki for dinner.
when yuuji falls asleep a few hours later, sukuna doesn't take over right away. he spends a while in his domain, engaging in what some people might call sulking.
before long, however, he begins to feel restless and he tells himself it's because he's grown accustomed to his finite hours of freedom. of course, it has nothing to do with your absence.
so he assumes control of his vessel's body and pulls a short novel from your bookshelf. settling on the couch, his fingertips brush over the cover: the stranger by albert camus
it's the first time he's ever been alone in your apartment, a fact he's well aware of, and his eyes wander to the front door. it'd be all too easy to pull it open, to make his way downstairs and out onto the street.
how long would it last before yuuji regained control? are you nearby? would you get caught up in the havoc he'd doubtlessly wreak?
the thought makes him grimace. returning his focus to the book in his hands, time seems to pass by faster as he makes his way through the pages.
even so, he deems the narrative a bit boring. in his (what's the opposite of humble?) opinion, dead mothers and nagging girlfriends don't make for the most captivating story, so his mind begins to wander once he happens upon the quote:
"so why marry me, then?" she said. i explained to her that it didn't really matter and that if she wanted to, we could get married. besides, she was the one who was doing the asking and all i was saying was yes. then she pointed out that marriage was a serious thing. i said, "no." she stopped talking for a minute and looked at me without saying anything. then she spoke. she just wanted to know if i would have accepted the same proposal from another woman, with whom I was involved in the same way. i said, "sure." then she said she wondered if she loved me, and there was no way i could know about that. after another moment's silence, she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
sukuna thinks about you— the woman who forced her way into his solitude.
although, what if it hadn't been you? what if the brat had been involved with another woman? would he have eventually taken an interest in her too?
are you really that special, or is he just going crazy inside the cage that is itadori yuuji? the latter is much more likely, right?
he supposes he prefers the idea of madness over... feelings for some human.
all of a sudden, your apartment door seems much more inviting. would it be so bad if he were to step through it? what did he really have to lose?
yeah, that's right. he'll get up any second now and act on every horrible impulse he's been repressing. any second now... any second...
he can't quite figure out why he's unable to bring his limbs to move, weighed down by some force that's beyond him.
it's at that moment the door clicks open and for a split second, he thinks it must be his sign to go, but then you come waltzing in.
"'kuna!" you greet in an excited manner, disrupting the peaceful quiet.
kicking off your shoes haphazardly, you make your way over to him and promptly drop yourself into his lap. it elicits a bout of unwelcome clarity for the king of curses.
no, he wouldn't have taken an interest in just anyone, that much becomes obvious. it wasn't through a medium as flawed as chance that he came to... tolerate you. you're much too annoying for that to be the case.
"hello???" you wave your hand in front of his face. "i'm home."
"i can see that."
"welcome home, darling," you say in a deep voice, a poor imitation of him. "i missed you so much— that's what you're supposed to say."
yeah, definitely too annoying.
"but i didn't miss you." one of his hands comes to rest on your thigh, a betrayal of his preceding assertion.
"you're sitting alone reading—" you pause to inspect the book lying open beside him. "existential fiction about a nihilistic frenchman. of course you missed me."
he changes the topic rather swiftly. "you're drunk."
"i'm tipsy, at best." you roll your eyes. "can't i just be happy to see you?"
"you'd be the first."
"i don't mind making history."
you place a kiss on his lips, casual and affectionate in way that makes sukuna's body stiffen, and stand up.
"i need to get ready for bed, then we're gonna watch tv together because i missed you— gosh, see how easy that was?"
you run off to the bathroom and his body doesn't fully relax until he hears the shower turn on.
the thought of missing someone is a strange notion to him, because it implies eagerness and desire. for as long as he cares to remember, those emotions have been reserved for proclivities much more sinister.
so he hadn't missed you. he just would have preferred it if you stayed home. that's all.
when you return to the living room around fifteen minutes later, you're wearing one of yuuji's shirts, and as far as sukuna can tell, very little otherwise.
making yourself comfortable on the floor between his legs, you pass a hair tie behind you. "can you braid my hair?"
he's watched you get ready for bed enough times that he's fairly certain he can manage it. taking the tie from you, he still asks "why can't you do it?"
"because i'm sleepy," you frown, reaching for the tv remote.
gathering your hair in his hands and carefully dividing it into sections, he sighs. "you require so much looking after."
"you're not going to die if you can't have cookies tonight." sukuna states dryly, glancing at the clock that reads eleven o'clock.
"please don't trivialize my struggle," you begin, pulling on your jacket. "i want miso butter cookies— my grandma's secret recipe."
most of what you need can be found in the kitchen, but a trip to the store is in order for a few final ingredients.
"my mistake," he huffs, rising to his feet. "how insensitive of me."
"oh, it's alright. just don't let it happen again."
"sure. i'll keep that in mind, princess." sliding the apartment door's chain lock off the track, he does little to hide the vexation in his tone.
just as he reaches for the handle, you stop him and wrap a scarf around his neck, forcing a hoodie into his hands. "put this on. you'll be cold."
he looks at you as if you're crazy. "i don't have to worry about things as insignificant as the weather."
"well, put it on anyway," you insist.
he decides that acquiescing will be easier than arguing for the next five minutes and slips the hoodie over head. when you both step out into the chilly air of night, there are still a decent number of people traveling the streets.
stopping at a crosswalk the next block over, you begin to prattle on about what you need to pick up and the different steps in your recipe. naturally, you completely miss it when the pedestrian sign turns green.
"come on," sukuna commands, his hand wrapping around your wrist and tugging you along with him. "i don't have all night."
you scoff. "to be fair, i didn't say you had to come with me."
"yeah well it's late. you shouldn't be out alone." there's a hint of exasperation in his voice, like he truly had no choice in the matter.
despite that, once you reach the other side of the street, his fingers slide down your palm and thread through yours.
you glance over at him and find he's looking off to the side, so you bite your lip to suppress your pleased smile. is he avoiding your gaze intentionally? you decide that bashfulness suits him better than you would have expected.
offering him a light squeeze of the hand, you hope it conveys your appreciation of his small display of affection.
"so, are you going to help me make the cookies?"
his lips press into a thin line. "as thrilling as that seems, i don't particularly have a penchant for baking."
"you think you'd humor me a little! you know, since i'm your only friend and all."
"if anyone else asked me such a ridiculous question, they wouldn't live to see tomorrow." you ponder whether he's joking and quickly decide that he isn't. "this is me humoring you."
"you're so mean to me."
"hardly."
"fine," you pout. "then you can't have any!"
"now, hold on." the threat does make him hesitate. you've come to learn that if there's one thing he loves as much as reading, it's food. "let's not be hasty."
you're approaching the store, the sliding doors just a few strides away.
"it's only fair! besides, you're not going to die if you can't have cookies," you throw his earlier words in his face.
he exhales deeply. "have i ever told you how irritating you are?"
"woah! now you're definitely not getting any, mister!"
"alright, alright," he groans as you step inside. "i'll help you bake your stupid cookies."
"perfect!" you exclaim as if you knew he'd give in eventually (you did). "then you can start by finding the miso paste while i get everything else!"
you scamper off before he can tell you not to order him around like some common servant. he's never even been grocery shopping, how the hell is he supposed to find anything in here?
wandering the aisles, he stews over how domestic this is. for god's sake— the king of curses, shopping for ingredients and making baked goods. what have you reduced him to?
just as he considers giving up, he spots the item he's looking for and grabs it so aggressively that it knocks a few packets of instant miso soup to the floor. wrinkling his nose in distaste for the entire experience, he sets off looking for you, though his efforts are to no avail.
he wonders where the hell you could have gone off to when a flickering light catches his eye, filling him with a strange sort of unease.
it's emanating from a narrow hallway tucked away in the back corner of the store. at the very edge of the hall, a phone with a familiar case is lying on the floor, the screen shattered.
his blood runs cold, a sensation that is fully unknown to him, and the miso paste slips from his fingers. he appears in the hallway the very next second and the sight that greets him ignites a furious hostility in the center of his being— heavy and consuming.
you're struggling against one man as he drags you out of the backdoor and into an alley. another man is holding the door open, urging his partner to hurry up.
the hand over your mouth keeps you from yelling, but you're unsure you would have been able to make a sound regardless.
one second you're cast into darkness, and the next, the light seems blinding. the flashing is unceasing and it makes your head hurt.
two limbs are wrapped around your torso, keeping you firmly in place, and your arms are trapped at your sides. you might be kicking your legs, but they may just be dragging along too. you really can't be sure.
there's a thrum of a heartbeat at your back. it's pace is unforgiving, the intensity mirroring that of your own. you've a vague concern that your heart may very well beat right out of your chest.
then there's an abrupt shift in the air and a sickening crack echoes through out the night. crumpling onto the concrete, you think it must have started raining before you realize that the droplets on your face are warm.
you wipe at your cheek and your fingers stain crimson, the color matching that of an increasingly large puddle seeping across the pavement beside you.
there's a heap lying a few feet away and you recognize that it's wearing clothes. it's a sight you struggle to make sense of.
needing to focus on something else, your eyes find sukuna and the expression he's wearing is fierce and unreserved. "tell me what you wanted with her."
you've never heard him speak in such a way. his tone is low, his cadence nothing short of threatening.
"s-s'kuna?" your own voice sounds foreign to you and it goes unheard by him.
he has your attacker pressed against the brick wall of the alley, both hands wrapped around his throat. he's too livid to realize the pressure on his windpipe is preventing him from answering.
sukuna throws him to the other side of the alleyway out of frustration, the man rolling onto his back and wheezing to appease his lungs.
"tell me!" sukuna commands again, louder this time. less collected.
the man scrambles away from his looming figure. "th-they sent us, told us they needed her for an important matter."
"who?"
"they'll kill me if i tell you—"
sukuna crouches down, laughing dryly. "and what do you suppose i'm going to do?"
his eyes are almost unrecognizable to you. they're frenzied— a few shades deeper than the scarlet you've grown so fond of.
"you'll k-kill me either way, so at least i'll die with honor—"
"tch. useless." sukuna waves his hand, and you can hardly comprehend what happens right in front of you.
neat red lines appear across the man's body, then it ruptures into nothing at all. the only evidence that he was ever there in the first place is his blood.
the stench of which is perhaps the worst part— intense, coppery, and hot. it makes your eyes water, and before you know it, you're hunched over and emptying the contents of your stomach onto the ground.
sukuna is at your side in an instant, pulling your hair away from your face, but while one of your hands is braced against the concrete, the other endeavors to push him away.
his body doesn't budge at the contact, but he takes a step back anyway in an attempt to respect your wishes.
your mind is a mess filled with racing thoughts— what the fuck? this cannot be happening. what the hell even happened in this first place? that man was there and then he wasn't.
inhaling sharply, you wipe at your mouth and shift to pull your knees to your chest.
"what..." you trail off, surveying the unutterable, incomprehensible scene before you. "what did you do?"
he doesn't respond, though his features noticeably soften. somewhere in the back of your mind, you know very well what he did, but you can't help repeating. "what did you do?"
"we need to leave." it's not that sukuna couldn't handle whoever might show up, but seeing as this is your reaction, he has no desire to. "if you let me touch you, i can take us home."
you take a moment to think about it, then nod wordlessly. as soon as his hand falls on your shoulder, you're met with that same sensation you felt the night gojo teleported you and yuuji home after one too many drinks.
though this time, the sick feeling in your stomach isn't caused by liquor. you don't stand up, you don't so much as move a muscle when you feel the surface beneath you shift from concrete to carpet.
sukuna breathes out your name, his uncertainty evidenced by the way he's shoved his hands into his pockets. meeting his eye, you reiterate the same inquiry once more. "what did you do?"
it's almost as if you want him to tell you that he didn't do anything. that the whole experience was some disturbing nightmare.
"those men would have hurt you."
"that doesn't mean they deserved to die." you choke on the final word.
"yes— it does."
with that, silence hangs in the air like a suffocating miasma.
looking to your hands, you're reminded of the blood you've been spattered with. "i need to wash up."
you still don't move from your spot, too fixated on your flesh and the dreadful hue that it's been painted with. sukuna notices now that you're trembling.
he approaches you hesitantly before extending his hand. "let me help you."
you decline his offer, shying away from him. "i think you've done enough already."
god, the look in your eye is utterly despondent. he struggles to swallow the lump that forms in his throat.
his arm falls limply to his side and he looks across the room, your copy of the stranger earning his attention.
he's overcome with chagrin when he realizes that his concern brought about by camus' quote the other night was wholly misguided. he'd been focused on his own feelings, whether they were genuine or simply wrought by his isolation.
how foolish was he to ever question what you truly mean to him? with the anguish that's settled in his chest at the sight of your current state, the fact he ever doubted it makes him feel like a hopeless idiot.
had he any sense at all, the part that resonated with him would have been—
she mumbled that i was peculiar, that that was probably why she loved me but that one day i might disgust her for the same reason.
disgust. is that what you're feeling now? he's certain it is.
it was just last week that he relayed the story of his past. you're the only person alive to know the truth of how his wickedness came to be, and you met him with unconditional sympathy and understanding.
you pulled him close and embraced him, but now that you've seen him for what he truly is...? you can barely stand to touch him and it's like a knife to his heart.
you're so fucking warm— like the sun against his skin after weeks of endless rain.
and if you're the sun, surely he is the moon— cold and barren on his own, but brilliant when in the presence of your light.
to be without that? to be without you? it's a prospect too terrible for him to bear. it makes his stomach twist miserably.
you're startled (as is he) when his form falls to the floor, his knees meeting the carpet with a dull thud. he calls out your name again, but this time, his voice cracks as he speaks. "please."
he doesn't have a clue what he's even asking for. a chance to explain? forgiveness? a way to turn back time?
you don't say anything, but you do shift your gaze to him. he knows that he needs to fix this, so he wracks his mind for the right words.
"i didn't enjoy killing those men." he's somewhat surprised to find he's telling the truth.
"you didn't?" your voice is so small and timid that he can hardly decipher your words.
"no. my only concern was to keep you safe— to make sure they never put their hands on you ever again. all i felt was rage and... and... guilt. i should have never left you alone and it's my fault—"
"stop," you interrupt him.
there are tears welling in your eyes, making it difficult for sukuna to breathe. he's positive you're going to tell him that his intentions were of little consequence and that you never want to see him ever again.
instead, you push yourself forward and collapse against his body, your own wracked with violent sobs. the reality of the situation is only just now hitting you. it'd been much easier to focus on what sukuna had done, rather than what almost happened to you.
"i was so scared, 'kuna."
and still, despite the way you're clinging to his shirt and burying your face in chest, he's under the impression that it's him you were afraid of.
"i'm sorry," he tells you earnestly. "i never meant to frighten you."
"n-not of you. those men." you're struggling to speak in between desperate gasps. "why did they do that? what did they want with me?"
"i don't know." though, he is going to find out.
sukuna is not a man well versed in comfort, so he's not entirely sure why he begins rocking you back and forth, but he does it anyway.
when you finally start to breathe a little easier, he mumbles into your hair, "come on. let's get you cleaned up."
he doesn't give you a chance to respond before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the bathroom. setting you down on the counter gently, he searches the linen closet for a cloth.
it's quiet, save for your intermittent sniffling, as he runs it under warm water and wrings it out. his free hand moves to rest against the side of your neck and he dabs at the blood on your face, rinsing the washcloth every now and then.
he tries his best not to show it, but sukuna is agonizing over what might be going through your mind.
do you still feel safe with him? have your feelings changed? do you still love him, even when you've been so harshly reminded what he's capable of?
when you speak for the first time your words are hoarse, barely above a whisper. "thank you for saving me, sukuna."
he thinks about telling you not to thank him, not when it shouldn't have happened in the first place. he left your side, an error in judgement he'll never forgive himself for.
he considers your mortality— your weakness— in relation to his feelings for you. he's always seen this exceptionally human quality as despicable.
but now? all it does is terrify him.
"in the past, i was only concerned with my own whims and desires." his hand moves to cradle your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone. "though after tonight... you have to know..."
it's clear that he's struggling. his eyebrows draw together and his mouth twitches as he ponders his next words.
"i care about you, angel." his voice is hushed when he adds, "very much."
your eyes widen briefly and you murmur his name, but your mind is still reeling from the events of the past twenty minutes and you can't think of anything more to say. you're emotionally exhausted in a way you would have never thought possible.
it's plain to him too, so he knows his next question is selfish, but he can't go on without knowing. "does what you saw tonight change things between us?"
the silence preceding your answer seems to stretch on forever.
"i thought it would," you confess eventually. it was as if you'd put up a wall in your mind separating sukuna the king of curses from sukuna the man you spend your evenings with.
and it's difficult to reconcile the fact that the hands you saw used to murder two men are the same hands that are caressing your face so delicately.
at some point, however, you realized that the only time you felt fear tonight was when you were without him. his arrival and ensuing actions inspired shock and apprehension, though in some twisted way, you knew it meant you were safe. "but it doesn't."
the next question tumbles from your lips thoughtlessly. "does that make me a bad person?"
he chuckles and some of the tension in the room dissipates. "i think i'm the last one on earth that can pass moral judgement on you."
he tucks your hair behind your ear and scans your face, relief coursing through his body when he sees you smile. in this moment, there isn't anything else in the world he would have asked for.
"i guess you're right."
and now, the hand over your mouth is your own, an attempt to stifle your tired giggles. the light of the bathroom is warm and steady. sukuna's hands rest atop your hips, his touch firm but comforting. while you can't feel your own heartbeat, you're positive it must be beating in time with his.
when you crawl into bed that night sukuna pulls you close, your back pressed to his bare chest. you're thankful for the softness of his demeanor, because you need it tonight more than ever.
he doesn't recede to his domain until yuuji wakes up the following morning. he's determined to keep an eye on you as you sleep, to watch the slow rise and fall of your chest with newfound gratitude.
he knows he needs to speak with the brat about what happened. someone is after you and while he hates to admit it, he knows he can't ensure your safety alone.
and he will keep you safe, no matter the cost.
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#m!writes#sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna imagines#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#ryomen sukuna#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna imagines
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MunchSpencer, stressed bau reader 😉 do ur thing
A/N: I will absolutely do my thing for you iluvreid. Did I base this of that video of MGG eating that pie? Yes. Do I think about that video daily? Yes. Also to answer somebody else’s questions, I am planning on writing Luke fics in the future, and I do take Rossi requests (I take all requests that are to do with CM). I am also working through everyone’s else’s request, I’m waiting for some inspiration on the song ones :) As always jag älskar dig 🫶🏼
Content: Smut and Fluff. Fem! Reader. Overstimulation. Oral (F! receiving). Vaginal fingering. Slight dom/sub undertones. Mentions of doing this at work in the future. Munch! Spencer. Pet names (princess). A little argument to start of with, but it’s resolved quickly.
Masterlist| requests are open| Navigation.
Spencer had noticed how you were acting at work; he knew all the signs of you being stressed out. He tried his hardest to de-stress you at work, he had brought you all of your favourite snacks, he made sure you had plenty of water and coffee, but none of this seemed to be working.
Once you were both at home, he tried to ask you what was wrong, but you just shrugged him off, asking him to just leave you alone for a minute. “I’m not going to leave you alone; I know something is wrong. Just tell me.” His voice was strained, he was becoming frustrated, not with you, but because he didn’t know what to do.
“Spencer, back off. Nothing is wrong, I’ve told you. I’m just tired.” You bite back at him. You knew he was trying to be helpful, but you just wanted some piece of quiet.
“Something is wrong, why aren’t you telling me? Let me help you out here.” Spencer's voice softened as he watched the frustration etched on your face. He understood that his insistence might have been adding to your stress, but he couldn't bear to see you in pain. With a sigh, he took a step closer and gently wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace.
"I'm sorry if I'm coming across as pushy. I just hate seeing you like this, and I want to be there for you," he whispered against your hair, his fingers slowly rubbing soothing circles on your back. Spencer knew what would help him out if he was stressed, and he knew it would also work on you.
See, Spencer’s favourite place was to be in-between your legs. If he could, he would spend every hour, of every day there, exploring every inch of your body, losing himself in the pleasure he found there. He cherished the way you moaned his name, the way your legs would tremble as he brought you to the edge of ecstasy.
His hands continued their caress, moving lower down your back until they reached the curve of your hips. He could feel the tension in your body slowly melting away as his touch seeped into your pores, bringing warmth and comfort. The rhythm of his movements matched the beating of your heart, steady and reassuring.
"I know you're tired, but maybe... just maybe, I can help you relax," Spencer murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of gentleness and desire. He guided you towards the bedroom, with every intention of not letting you leave until you were totally relaxed.
As he undressed you with utmost care, his fingertips brushed against your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. Spencer's touch was like a delicate dance. His lips followed suit, pressing soft kisses along the path his hands had taken.
You found yourself surrendering to his ministrations, allowing the weight of the world to be lifted from your shoulders as pleasure consumed you. The stress that had plagued you all day melted away under the skilled touch of your lover.
The bed welcomed you both, its soft sheets cradling your bodies as Spencer continued his exploration. He knew every inch of you, every secret spot that drove you wild with desire. His mouth found its way to your neck, peppering it with butterfly kisses before trailing down to your collarbone.
A sigh escaped your lips, mingling with a gasp of pleasure as Spencer's tongue danced across your skin. The knots in your muscles unravelled as his hands glided over your body, burning away any remnants of stress. Your breath hitched as his lips descended further, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your chest, pausing to pay special attention to your sensitive breasts.
Spencer's touch was both tender and insistent, his fingers tracing patterns of desire across your skin. He knew exactly how to coax pleasure from your body, each stroke and caress tailored to elicit the most exquisite sensations. With every passing moment, the weight on your shoulders lifted, replaced by a growing sense of bliss that radiated from deep within.
Lust and love intertwined as Spencer's mouth found its way to the apex of your thighs. His tongue teased and taunted, sending electric currents of pleasure through your veins. Waves of heat cascaded through you, building with each flicker and swirl until they crashed over you in a tidal wave of ecstasy.
Your moans filled the room, mingling with Spencer's own growls of desire as he revelled pleasure. His movements became more urgent, his tongue delving deeper, coaxing louder cries of satisfaction from your lips. You clutched onto his hair, your fingers tangling in the soft strands as you rode the waves of pleasure that consumed you.
Spencer’s hands gripped your hips tightly, holding you in place as he devoured you with an intensity that left you gasping for breath. Your hips were instinctively rocking against his skilled mouth, grinding against his face in search of more.
Spencer's touch was relentless, his tongue and lips working tirelessly to ensure your pleasure knew no bounds. The sensation of his mouth on you, the wet heat, and the flicks of his tongue, sent sparks of electricity coursing through your veins. Your walls clenched around nothing as your body convulsed in bliss.
But Spencer didn’t plan on stopping now, he was never satisfied if he only made you cum once. And now, more than ever, he was going to continue, he knew you needed it, and he knew he wanted it.
Soon enough, his fingers joined his mouth slipping inside you with a precision that left you trembling. You hadn’t been able to come down from your first orgasm, and now you were soaring even higher. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers brought you to the brink of another climax within moments. Every stroke, every flick, and every curl of his fingers sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body.
You lost all sense of time and space, consumed by the pleasure that coursed through every fibber of your being. Your mind became a haze of pure desire as Spencer continued to bring you to new heights with every stroke, every flick of his tongue.
Spencer's movements became more insistent, his fingers moving with an urgency that matched the burning need in your core. Each stroke sent shockwaves through you, intensifying the pleasure that consumed you. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you teetered on the edge of yet another mind-shattering orgasm.
He paused, giving you a slight break. “Are you feeling better now, princess?”
You lay there, panting heavily, your body still trembling from the intense pleasure that Spencer had just bestowed upon you. Your mind was hazy, your senses heightened, and a sense of tranquillity washed over you. The stress that had weighed you down seemed to have dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction.
You turned to look at Spencer, his face glowing with adoration as he admired the aftermath of his ministrations. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you nodded, the words caught momentarily in your throat.
"Yes," you finally managed to rasp out, your voice laced with awe and gratitude. "I feel... incredible."
Spencer's eyes sparkled with delight as he took in your response. He gently caressed your cheek, his touch feather-light against your flushed skin.
"Good," he whispered, his voice filled with tenderness. "That's all I wanted."
“I think I should get stressed more often.”
Spencer chuckled softly, his fingers trailing lazily along your side. "If getting stressed means, I get to relieve your tension like this, then I might have to start causing trouble on purpose."
You playfully swatted his chest, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Oh, so you're admitting that you enjoy being the cause of my stress?"
His lips curled into a smirk as he leaned down to capture yours in a lingering kiss.
“No, I’m admitting that I love hearing your moans, and it took all my might not to do this at work, but I can’t let the rest of the team hear how you moan for me. Those noises are for my ears only.”
Your heart raced at his words, a delicious mixture of desire and anticipation coursing through your veins. You had always known that Spencer had a playful side, but this level of raw intimacy was something new and exhilarating.
With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his as you whispered, "Well then, Agent Reid, I guess we'll have to find somewhere at work no one would be able to hear us”.
~join my taglist~
~taglist~
@iluvreid @nomajdetective @drspencieee @katieeeee314 @evvy96 @oliviah-25 @starkid024 @emalynvtgtgfhvgg @krokietino @xohoneybun @spencerreidwifeee @purplepistachi0 @pleasantwitchgarden @bitchassbecky691 @piperb400 @queermaxwooo @gemofthenight @topguncultleader @luvpiercethekaty @anna-belle-xd @catsareawesomek @drreidsfavwhxre @oureternalbond
#spencer reid smut#criminal minds smut#spencer reid x reader#criminal minds#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid one shot#dom spencer reid#sub reader
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Clingy Zoro x reader. You should make the story on Zorro and y/n are laying in bed after a wild night 😏. And y/n has to get up and go make breakfast but Zoro doesn't want to let her leave the bed.
Clingy Bastard
Characters: Zoro x fem!reader
Genre: Fluff
Summary: (Requested) Thanks luv 💚
Warnings: alluded to past and present sexual experiences also this is my first time writing for Zoro so please excuse any ooc.
-
You woke up slowly, the morning sun shining light in the otherwise dark room. Blinking away the sleepiness, you saw the bright red numbers of the clock reading 11:30.
You briefly recalled that it was Saturday so no work for you to do but you still didn't want to rot in bed all day. Slowly you rose from the bed just to be pushed down back to the bed by Zoro’s arm.
He intertwined his legs with yours, trapping you in them and pulled your body closer to his, your back on his chest and his arm around your body. Holding you like you were his human teddy bear or something.
“No moving,” he mumbled tiredly into your neck. His voice was deep and croaky from sleep.
The audacity of this man.
He’s always doing this! Wanting to cuddle and snuggle until both of your bodies are sore due to the immobility and you didn’t know where your legs began and his arm ended so trying to untangle yourselves just made your already aching body hurt more. You two ended up pretzeled together for what seemed like hours (and it probably was) was not how you wanted to spend your Saturday morning.
Don’t get you wrong, you loved cuddling with Zoro. You loved when he held you against his chest, feeling his heartbeat through your back and the soft rising of his chest. It made you feel safe and warm and loved. Protected in a way that was unfamiliar to you for so long.
But you were….sticky. Yea, sticky and sweaty were the best words to describe the state that you were from what happened last night. They were the best words to describe Zoro too. But before showering, you desperately needed some food. And maybe coffee. And to y’know, get out of the bed too.
“Zoro, let go,” you said in your best “I’m not playing around” voice though it failed miserably judging by the way he snorted at you.
He hugged you closer to his body and you felt him slowly relaxing, his body melting into yours becoming one. He wrapped around you, coo-conning you into his body.
“No, let’s just stay here a bit longer. Why mess up a good thing?” He asked, his voice muffled a bit.
You sighed and thought about the best way to deal with the situation. Usually, after some begging and bribing Zoro would let do what you needed to do. But that’s when you need to do work so he would be less willing to comply when there was no work for you to do. And you didn’t wanna beg to just lay in the house all day anyway. And really, you weren’t that sticky.
No, no, no you definitely were.
So you had only one option. Something where you two would both get what you wanted.
“Wanna shower with me?” You offered to him. You saw his eyes slowly opening, cutting you a look with a sly grin.
He chuckled and kissed your neck, “Oh really? And what have I done to deserve such an honor?”
“Being a clingy, stubborn bastard,” you answered dryly and frowned at him but you couldn’t help the smile that was starting to form on your face when he started to laugh at your comment.
He dragged you onto his lap, his fingers digging into your waist, “Oh, I'm being clingy? Stubborn? You act as if you don't like it. Stop pretending.”
You rolled your eyes at him but was still smiling because despite how absolutely annoying it was, he was right. You did like it.
You’ll never admit it verbally though.
“That a yes or no, Roronoa?” You asked again.
Zoro gave you a toothy smile and carried you to the bathroom, slamming the door shut.
Something tells you that you wouldn't do much cleaning though.
-
Tags: @puff-hugs, @msmisasoup, @localcowboyd, @purplepirateadventures, @the-skys-musical-echo, @thatgothic-nerd, @lovebunnys-world, @0picels0, @multifandomgirl2018, @charliepoopyfart, @cielitoot7, @tayharrper, @nikolaevna-art, @simpingmyassoff, @saturnwitheclipwze, @rotin0, @villainsmygods, @cherrysandmatcha, @borkbarnes, @villainouspotential, @ramielll, @poketrainer2270, @gingersnap126126, @2strawberries, @fujinnn, @n1ght5h4d3-24, @olliewhinchester, @dimplewonie, @penny44224, @justsomerandomw31rdo, @fuck-you-im-gae, @ghostysfanfics, @dearest-lady, @hopester08, @noway-leon, @avatarkanemi, @justthecasualreader, @fandomsunited, @707xn, @yoongi-holland, @don-tuna, @alienstardust, @darka-moon, @louiselamb12, @dazaisfavgf, @zenitsuisthemostrelatableinkinyc @heydemonsitsyaboilucien, @0amy5, @smolracoon25, @synchronised-beat, @flowerlds-blog, @secretlittlestudyblog, @dragonqueenfk, @foxflamewarrior, @theboisarehere342, @nightingale2124
Taglist & Reqs Info & Masterlist
#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#zoro x you#op zoro#opla zoro#zoro roronoa x reader#zoro roronoa x you#one piece zoro#zoro roronoa x female reader#opla x y/n#zoro x female reader#opla x reader#opla fanfiction#zoro fic#zoro fanfiction#zoro fluff#reader insert#rorona zoro#roronoa zoro x reader#opla roronoa zoro#one piece x reader#one piece live action#one peice x you#op zoro x reader
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Hiii I luv your writing🥺 it’s so soft and sweet.
Can I request for multiple people in one post? Like headcanons? If so, could you write headcanons for Jake, Johnnie, Sam and Colby on how they felt seeing you for the first time/what they noticed about you/why they were attracted to you? If not, then just with Johnnie is fine!! Thanks so much🫶🫶
☆ Ahhhh anon thank you!!
☆ Ofcourse I can!
☆ Headcanons :)
☆ Fluff/ Suggestive for Colby’s part :)
☆ Hey guys! Before anything else I would ask you to request anything you want because I've lost a lot of motivation and it would really help! :D (Please look at pinned post to see if requests are open.)
☆ Creds to @cafekitsune for dividers :)
Masterlist | Pinned post
Jake:
☆Jake would see you and immediately turn to his friends, “Look how pretty she is!”
☆ Jake wouldn’t have enough courage to go and ask for your number without his friends help.
☆ He doesn’t want to be the weirdo that asks for a girls number,even if he’s not fully sober I don’t think it would give him the confidence.
☆ After a lot of convincing from his friends he would eventually walk up to you.
☆ He would definitely be awkward,not knowing what to say because he doesn’t want to blow his chances or make you uncomfortable.
☆ Would walk up to you and properly see you and fireworks are lighting in his eyes.
☆ Jake would start small talk but eventually just say something along the lines of “Can I get your number?”
☆ If you say yes he would run back to his friends and be like “Guess who get their numberrrrr.” And would be a lot more bubbly/giggly the rest of the time he was out before eventually leaving to go home to message you.
☆ Would definitely spend the rest of the night on call with you.
Johnnie:
☆Johnnie will not walk up to you,way too scared.
☆ He saw you across the room and immediately wanted to go up to you and call you beautiful and talk to you about everything.
☆ Would eventually send one of his friends up to you to ask for your number but instead of giving it you would walk up to Johnnie instead.
☆ “Hey,Johnnie Right?” And he melts just because you know his name (Even though his friend told him)
☆ Would definitely stutter to ask for your number but ofcourse you said yes and his nerves calmed down a bit.
☆ Would end up leaving his friends so he could talk to you alone and have a mini date.
☆ Would talk to you about how he loves your outfit,your hair,makeup,anything. His love language is definitely words of affirmation so if you compliment him back he feels like he’s met the one immediately.
☆ Would invite you to another ‘real’ date before asking for your number and saying he should leave.
☆ His friends would not hear the end of it and neither would yours.
Sam:
☆ He would go up to you without even telling his friends and go over to you.
☆ He would start with small talk before finding out something about you and talking to you about that entirely.
☆ Finds your interests really cool and would definitely keep talking about them whilst throwing in compliments about your outfit etc.
☆ Would tell you everything he knows about your interests and would eventually talk about his for a short while.
☆ Wouldn’t want to be the creepy guy asking for your number if you don’t know him so he would talk to you about half an hour before deciding to ask.
☆ “Do you think I could have your number?” When you say yes he immediately reaches into his back pocket to grab his phone.
☆ He would keep talking to you afterwards instead of going back to his friends.
☆ When he gets home he would call you and talk to you all night if he could even staying in call if you fall asleep.
Colby:
☆ Would see you across the room at a party to be fair.
☆ If you were taking shots he would stare you down whilst you did.
☆ He would walk over to you without thinking about it,doesn’t need the alcohol or his friends to hype him up.
☆ Definitely Cocky about it and would ask for you number immediately.
☆ He would definitely be respectful but is still very cocky.
☆ He compliments you like there’s no tomorrow,he loves everything about you and your looks are just an add-on to his feelings.
☆ At the end of the night if you were still at the party he would ask if you wanted to come back to his place.
☆ Extracurricular activities happened that night if you said yes 🫡.
#spotify#smut#song#romance#cute#fluff#colby brock smut#sam and colby#sam and colby fluff#colby brock#sam colby and friends#sam golbach#johnnie guilbert fluff#johnnie guilbert smut#johnnie guilbert#johnnie guilbert x reader#jake webber fluff#jake webber smut#jakewebber#jake webber#jake webber x reader
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We Fight, We Make Up
Summary: Harry gets turned on when you yell at him.
Requested: Nope
POV: 2nd
Word count: 3.4k
Warning(s): Unprotected sex, slight degradation, slight spanking
The argument happened before the night even started. You didn't even wanna go. You wanted to stay in the hotel with your husband. Alone. Without having to share him with anyone else. Recently, you have been missing him. Yes, you see him every day and fall asleep with him every night; but you felt like you had to share him with the entire world. When he wasn't on stage in front of his thousands of fans, he was either at the gym or working with his team, writing new songs, and talking about new plans.
Tonight was one of his rare nights off and of course, he and his team wanted to go out. He wanted you to go with him and you did, but you were grumpy from the moment he brought it up to the moment you're at with him now.
You were arguing while you got ready. Harry didn't understand where you were coming from. You were on tour with him. You were with him every day, went everywhere that he went, and got to sleep next to him every night. He thought you were being a bit needy and selfish. He didn't say that to you of course, but he definitely voiced that he thought you were being irrational.
Once you had met everyone in the hotel lobby, you both put on your brave faces, not wanting to draw any attention to your problems. You tried to forget about your current struggles and have fun while you could. Neither of you drank that much. You just were not in the mood and Harry had a show the next day. It was only occasional that he would drink while on tour, but never when he had a show the next day.
Once the night was over, the argument continued.
"Y/N, baby, I dunno what you want me to do. We're on tour, this is my work. I can't spend every second with you."
"Oh my god, Harry. You know I'm not asking you to spend every second with me. I just want some alone time with you. I told you I feel like I have to share you with everyone and never get any time just you and me."
"But we do get alone time. We got a whole room to ourselves. I give you a cuddle while we fall asleep every night. Why is that not enough?"
"It's not about being enough. It's about me feeling like you're not prioritizing me or wanting to spend any time with me."
"This is the first tour that you've been able to come with me for every show. This is what it's like. I don't get alone time. This is my job. I can't just drop it all to spend time with you."
You were starting to get angry, "You don't work every hour of the day! Tonight - I told you beforehand that I didn't wanna go and I wanted to stay here with you but you wanted to go out instead."
"Well, yeah because I've got a night off and wanted to have fun with everyone."
"Exactly! Everyone. You didn't wanna spend time with me. You spend time with them every fucking day and the one day you have off you choose to be with them."
"Y/N, you-" he started before you cut him off, your voice raising in frustration, "Harry, you're my fucking husband! I shouldn't have to beg you to spend time with just me!"
All of a sudden, a cheeky, slightly evil smirk arose on his lips and his eyes scanned your body up and down. It was very rare that you got angry when you argue with him, you usually just get really sad. Your disagreements are usually quiet and filled with tears. It was your least favorite thing to do. You hated having serious conversations with Harry and couldn't help but cry when they happened. Harry was a sympathetic cryer so when you cried, he cried. In the 10 years that you and Harry have been together, you only yelled at him in an argument probably 4 times. So, he found this moment quite amusing.
"Why the fuck are you laughing?"
"I'm not," he chuckled looking up at your angry eyes.
He kept that smirk on his lips as he stared at you deeply, your blood beginning to boil as a breathy giggle left his lips.
"Oh my god, I'm so sick of this," you snapped, turning around and getting ready to storm into the bathroom.
"Y/N, stop."
He was quick to grab your arm, pulling him into you and wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you from running from him. Placing both hands on his hips, you glared up at him, "What?"
He didn't reply, his eyes bore into yours while he was pushing your hips against his, jutting his out to show you exactly what he was feeling. You could feel his tight bulge straining in his slacks against your pelvis and you could not believe what was happening.
"You're hard?" you replied as your lips mindlessly curved up in amusement, "Why?"
"Dunno, you rarely yell at me when we argue. It's kinda sexy," he replied, his voice slow and deep.
"What?" You were the one laughing now, "You're not supposed to get turned on. You're supposed to get pissed at me."
"I am pissed at you. But you're fuckin' cute when you get angry." He looked you up and down once more before adding, "Might be this outfit too."
"Oh my gosh, I wanna be mad at you so bad because of this but I'm really amused."
"Are we about to have angry sex?"
You didn't even answer him. You immediately pulled him down by the back of his neck and attacked his lips with yours. He kissed you back, moving in sync with you. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting you as you backed him up against the edge of the bed. The backs of his knees hit the mattress and he immediately sat down, pulling you with him. Pulling your dress up past your hips so you could spread your legs, you straddled his lap. His hands immediately went to your ass, cupping and squeezing it.
You continued to kiss him, making out like you were teenagers. Your kisses were fast and sloppy, your panties dampening as you ground your hips against his center. You ran your fingers through his dark hair, tugging at the soft strands gently. You felt your clit throbbing in anticipation and you knew you couldn't wait too long before he filled you up.
Your hands frantically slid down his body, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. You had been so upset with him, you had overlooked how good he looked tonight. He wore a white button-up, only having the bottom two buttons tied together to show off his tanned, tattooed chest. He paired it with a pair of black slack pants and white loafers that he had slipped off the moment you got back to your room. He had his famous cross and phallic banana necklaces on and had rings lined on almost every one of his fingers.
You slid his top off of his shoulders and tossed it carelessly onto the floor. His glistening skin and dark tattoos were now on full display for you. You ran your fingernails across his body, feeling every inch of his torso that you could reach. You continued to grind your center against his, circling your hips so his bulge rubbed perfectly against your clothed clit.
"I want you so bad," he breathed out and you hummed against his lips in agreement.
His fingertips grabbed onto the hem of your silky dress and pulled it up over your head, tossing it with his shirt. Your lips only parted to pull the dress off, immediately attaching again once you were exposed to him. His hands reached behind your back and unclasped your strapless bra with ease, letting it fall onto your lap. After grabbing it and tossing it, his hands cupped both breasts and kneaded them harshly.
His kisses trailed down your jaw to your neck, kissing, nipping, and sucking at all your sweet spots. You let your head fall to the side to give him more access and hummed in satisfaction. His lips trailed even further down until they latched onto your right breast. He sucked at your nipple, hand still kneading your left one. Flicking his tongue back and forth against your bud, your back arched into him. Nibbling on it, you whimpered and he pulled away, giving your other breast the same amount of attention.
Returning back to your lips, he tugged on the band of your panties, acknowledging that he wanted them off. You stood up in between his legs and pulled your panties down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. While you did that, he unbuttoned the button on his pants, lifted his hips, pushed them down his thighs, and pulled them off his legs.
Both of you were now completely naked and exposed to each other. You straddled his lap again and he reached down between your bodies, sliding his fingers between your folds to feel your wetness. He groaned softly as his middle finger and ring finger slipped past your opening with ease. You mimicked his moan when his fingers began to move in and out of you, the coldness of his peace ring and his pearl ring sending chills up your spine.
"Jesus, Y/N, I'm so fuckin' horny right now," he groaned desperately.
"I need you inside me," you whimpered into his ear, equally as desperate, "right now, Harry, please."
"C'mere," he hummed.
Pulling his fingers out of you, he wrapped his arms around you and stood up. Turning around, he laid you down on the sheets with your hips at the edge of the bed while standing in between your spread legs. He grasped onto both of your ankles and hooked them around his shoulders. Wrapping his right palm around his member, he wasted no time and immediately positioned his swollen tip at your entrance, sliding in while he hovered over you. You both let out moans at the euphoric feeling of him filling you up. He stilled inside of you, allowing you a minute to adjust to his size. His forehead rested against yours and he grunted softly when he felt you clench around him.
Leaning back up, he grabbed onto each of your thighs to ground you. Not holding anything back, he began thrusting in and out of you at a fast pace. He knew your body like the back of his hand. Knew every single one of your sweet spots and every single movement that made you putty in his hands.
His thighs slapped against yours and your breasts bobbed with each hard thrust of his hips. Your orgasm was quickly starting to grow closer and you found yourself clenching around him each time his tip brushed up against your good spot. Your face contorted with pleasure and you tightly gripped the sheets below you.
"Oh fuck," you whimpered softly, "Harry, yes!"
"Is this what you wanted?" he grunted in between stagged breaths, "Just wanted me to fuck you like this?"
His fingertips dug into the skin of your thighs, most likely leaving marks for you to complain about the next morning. The bed squeaked under you and you knew the backs of your thighs were quickly turning bright red with the repetitive slapping. It was purely a pornographic scene and you were in complete and utter bliss.
"Answer me."
"Yes, yes," you chanted, "I needed this so bad. Needed you, Harry."
Lifting your head slightly, you looked down and watched as he disappeared in and out of you. He was slick with you, sparkling against the light in the room. You could physically hear how wet you are for him. His movements intensify that sound with each thrust. You let your head fall back down to the bed and look up at him. He's looking down between your bodies, watching what you were just watching. His eyebrows were furrowed together and his jaw hung slack as he breathed irregularly.
You watched as his muscles clenched with each thrust, a sheen layer of sweat beginning to form on his skin, glittering his tattoos. You let your eyes squeeze shut as the pleasure grew. You felt his left hand leave your thigh and immediately grasp onto your breast, squeezing it and allowing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch at your nipples.
Without warning, he wrapped his hands around your sides and flipped you over so you were on your belly. He tapped your hip gently, acknowledging you to sit up. Resting your elbows on the sheets to support your body, you stuck your ass up in the air for him, leaning back and pressing into him. He positioned at your entrance again and started back up where he had left off.
The sound of his skin slapping and your wetness continued to echo loudly throughout the room and if he wasn't making you feel so damn good right now, you would be worried about people outside the room hearing.
"Talk to me. This is exactly what you fuckin' wanted so tell me how good I'm making you feel."
"No," you whimpered, trying to get a rise out of him, "you don't love me anymore."
"Say that one more time and I'll spank you 'till you cry," he grunted.
You grinned at his words. You knew he wouldn't actually spank you until you cried, but you wanted to challenge him, "I'm not wrong."
His hand swatted at the fullest part of your ass and you squealed at the slight sting, his rings he never took off intensifying that sting. He never spanked you super hard, just enough to get you to straighten up when you were being sassy with him.
"Wanna try me again?"
"You never give me attention anymore."
Another spank landed across your ass and you moaned, his hand massaging the area to soothe the sting, "You're such a brat. You're asking for it now, aren't you?"
After one more smack against your skin, he grunted and his thrusts came to an abrupt stop. You were about to protest but then felt his big hands collecting your hair. He switched all of it to one hand, holding it up into a ponytail. He tugged on it, pulling your head back so that he could easily lean down to nip at your ear lobe and you couldn't help the moan that left your lips. Using his free hand, he grabbed onto your hip again and began thrusting.
"Want me all to yourself all the fuckin' time, huh?" he growled into your ear, sending shivers up your spine.
"You're mine," you moaned, "Don't like sharing you."
"Fuckin' selfish is what you are," he grunted in your ear, "Can't get enough of me, huh?"
You moaned in response, breath hitching in your throat before he continued, "Got people wanting my attention left and right and you only want me for yourself. I can see why though, with how good I make you feel. Not once have I ever failed to have you fuckin' trembling under me, babe."
"You're such a fucking narcissist," you grunted, words coming out strangled.
He chuckled deeply, biting on the shell of your ear, "It's the sole reason why you married me, innit? 'cause of how easy I can get you to scream my name?"
"Fuck off," you groaned and he chuckled again, loving how he got to you.
"Got the sexiest girl in the world to be my wife. How can I not be narcissistic?"
"Mmm," you whimpered, ignoring him, "Want more."
"More? Am I not giving you enough right now?"
"No, gimme more."
"Greedy, greedy girl. You're my greedy girl though, that right?"
You hummed in agreement as he let go of your hair, your head immediately hanging low. With both hands now on your hips, fingertips gripping your skin tightly, he changed his rhythm. Fast and hard. Exactly what you wanted right now.
"I'll give you whatever you want. Got me wrapped around your little finger."
"Obviously not, or else we wouldn't be in this situation right now," you grunted in sync with the smack of his hips against yours.
"Still mad at me, huh?"
"Just shut up and make me cum," you groaned.
You heard him chuckle behind you as he kept his rhythm, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm by the second. His thighs smacked against yours and the sound echoed throughout your hotel room. Your breath was hitched in your throat, your face contorted with pleasure and your jaw slack as moans occasionally escaped when your hitched breath allowed.
He got so deep inside you, hitting your special spot just underneath where your clit was located with each thrust of his powerful hips. His fingers were gripping your hips tightly, nails carving crescent moon shapes within your skin. Your clenched around him and you could feel every inch of him moving against your walls.
"Oh, Harry," you whimpered into the sheets and Harry's heart swelled as he noticed how much you needed this. How much you needed him.
With the length of his thrusts shortening and pace only slowing down slightly, he leaned down and pressed his back against yours, cupping your waist to pull him into you.
"Haven't been giving you the attention you deserve, have I, baby?" he grunted into your ear, words in sync with his thrusts.
"Mm mm," you whimpered, his lips against the shell of your ear making you shiver.
"Been neglecting my favorite person in the world. My beautiful wife, fuck, I love you so much."
You couldn't even reply. Your voice wouldn't let you, the only thing you could get out was moans of pure pleasure by not only him inside of you, but also him finally giving you exactly what he wanted. His hands slid up your torso and gripped your breasts, squeezing them as his thumbs flicked over your nipples. You could tell he was close by the way his member twitched inside of you, his strangled moans, and the feeling of his face contorting against your back.
"Need you to cum, baby." he breathed out, "I can't cum if you don't cum first."
"I need-" you began and it was like he read your mind, fingers heading straight for your throbbing clit and rubbing it side to side vigorously, causing you to breathe out, "Yeah."
It didn't take much longer before your body became numb with pleasure. You were trembling, screaming into the sheets beneath you, knuckles turning white with how hard you were gripping the covers. Harry continued his movements to carry you through your orgasm, causing it to pulse through you in waves, euphoria completely clouding your mind.
You came down from your high with heavy breaths, the continued stimulation from his thrusts sending a new wave of pleasure over you. When it became too much, you whimpered and he pulled out, groaning painfully, "Where do you want me?"
"My back," you breathed out.
You laid down on your stomach and moved all your hair to your front, while he continued to pump himself to keep his orgasm from falling. Once you were in position, he pressed one knee to the bed to angle himself above you. It was only seconds before you felt the warm feeling of him painting your back with his creamy release, your jaw falling slack. Moans of pleasure fell from his lips as he worked himself through his orgasm, pleasure consuming his body just as it did you only seconds earlier.
Once he had milked the last of his orgasm, he immediately got up to grab a few tissues to clean you off.
"You okay, babe?" he asked while wiping the tissue across your skin.
"Mhm," you hummed in response, ready to just fall asleep in his arms.
Throwing away the soiled tissue, he stated, "All done."
You turned over onto your side and he laid down next to you, pulling you into him, breathing out, "Didn't lie when I said I always get you trembling under me, huh?"
You rolled your eyes teasingly at him, "You're so annoying."
"I love you. You know that, right?"
"I know. We still need to talk though. The problem didn't just go away 'cause you're good in bed."
He chuckled deeply, "Can we talk tomorrow? Just wanna hold you right now."
"Yeah, lemme go to the bathroom then we can go to bed," you replied as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom.
"Love you, sexy," he teased, landing a soft smack across the curve of your ass as you got up.
You giggled, "I love you too."
#one direction#harry styles#harry#one direction smut#harry styles smut#harry smut#one direction fanfic#harry fanfic#harry styles fanfic#one direction fanfiction#harry fanfiction#harry styles fanfiction#harry one shot#one direction one shot#harry styles one shot#one shot#one shots#harry styles one shots#harry one shots#one direction one shots#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n
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( ♡ )⠀𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒏 as . . . 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 .ᐟ
❝ boy you're such a dream to me ❞ ꒷꒦ ot7 𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝜗𝜚 ⟢ headcanons & established relationship fluff ৲ 𝖒𝖞 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 ㅤ ♡ ㅤ
𐙚 . . via's entry ❫ ilysm plz enjoy my first thingy, 2239wc | fem reader .
✦ . . 이희승 ！
bf!heeseung who does aegyo for you and only you! he’d make sure no one else was in close proximity and then go “heedeungie!!” before cringing, and shutting his eyes closed, only reopening them to see your pretty smile.
bf!heeseung who always knows what you want, even if u’ve just glanced at a cute plushie at the store for one second best bet he’ll buy you every plushie from that brand, becoz ur his prince(ss) ofc
bf!heeseung who’d write little romantic ballads for you and call you randomly throughout the day (even during sleep hours!) so that you can hear his melodic voice sing the most shakespearean lyrics about his love for u 🥰
bf!heeseung who is like a bf and a therapist all in one! literally send as many voice messages ranting abt ur life as u can to him becoz he will listen to all of them and then respond with a voice message 10x longer
bf!heeseung who gets a bit impatient… likes listening to u talk but did u know that if u go longer than 42.32 seconds without kissing him he will eventually just stare at your lips and mumble random words while u rant every now and then; it gets you all hot and flustered when you realize where his attention actually is. soon enough, you just go “just kiss me if you want to.” and that’s enough for him to look back up at you, grin and softly press his lips against yours (contrary to popular opinion his kisses would be very soft! 🤓☝️) while grabbing both your shoulders with his hands
bf!heeseung who loves ur shoulders for some reason?? i just have this gut feeling that his favorite part about you is your shoulders?? like idk why, my heeseung senses r just tingling. anyways yes, he’d rest his head on your shoulders, kiss ur shoulders, put his arms over your shoulders and around your neck and whatnot!
✦ . . 박종성 ！
bf!jay who’d spent astronomical amounts of money (willingly :)) in just a week!! he refuses to buy you cheap counterparts, expensive is what his pretty lover deserves !
bf!jay WHO WOULD COOK THE MOST GOURMET MEALS FOR YOU! if it is a cultural dish, he will take time out of his day to cook in the kitchen with you until he learns how to make said cultural dish, then he will make it for u 4ever and ever!!! jay is certainly a caring partner
bf!jay who gives u sm partner privilege it’s insane. like he’d do anything for you without a second doubt. ask him to help you look for ur phone? no need, he’s already bought you 10 different new ones!
bf!jay who is such a romantic partner?? like if ur at work late, he will set up a whole candlelit dinner (hand made cuisine) with “moonlight” by kali uchis playing in the background. (jay looks like that song :3)
bf!jay likes tracing his fingers over your delicately placed features like you were sculpted by Greek Gods, and he’s nothing but a mere commoner admiring your beauty.
bf!jay gets matching things for you two ☹️ matching pandora rings, matching shoes/heels, what is there that he wouldn’t wear to twin with you! hell, he’d even do that cute thing where he matched the color of his tie to your dress!
bf!jay who does likes to go out with you, but he also likes to stay in! no matter what, he wants to be with you.
bf!jay who thinks that reading a romcom cuddled up with you under rain is a perfect way to spend saturday afternoon! (hint: he doesn’t usually like to read romcoms, he just loves spending time with you too much to say no 💖)
to conclude, jay just loves to do things for you. he always tries to impress you/make himself the perfect boyfriend for you by planning dates, getting u gifts, and doing whatever you need at all times (i feel like he believes he’ll never be good enough for u 😕)
✦ . . 심재윤 ！
bf!jake who gets so shy around u?? like stop u could stare at him and when he finally notices he’ll giggle like a little girl about it. he has the biggest crush on you ever it’s unbelievable
“okay fine, i love you more than my dog. i love you more than anyone, actually. is that weird?”
bf!jake who is a playful and lighthearted person, he truly does not have the capability to get mad at you 💞
but ofc he’s human, so when you two (somehow) get into arguments, he’ll always be the one to show up at your door at like 3am with a cute pout on his face because he misses you (it’s been 6 hours since you guys have last talked??) anyways how could you say no to his puppy face! obviously, u let him in and you two cuddle the night away
bf!jake who calls you layla’s mom and gets like cuteness aggression when he sees you and layla together
bf!jake who would say “this is for you” before shooting a hoop (and missing) for shits n giggles
bf!jake who clings onto you like his life depends on it……. this guy is so clingy???? like stop u won’t be able to use your non dominant hand at all because jake is just grabbing onto it for dear life
bf!jake who would LOVEE if his girlfriend had soft and plush cheeks. he’d squish ur face and giggle continuously at how cute you looked, pouty-faced and all.
bf!jake who likes simple yet planned out dates. picnics, arcade dates, carnival dates, and more are all apart of his comfort zone! but if you wanted to try anything new, he’d totally be up for it
bf!jake who loves u sososo unconditionally and always sticks by your side!! he’s like the type to agree with you in public and softly correct you in private.
bf!jake who smothers you with affection hourly reminds you everyday that he loves ur hair, ur face, ur body, ur legs, ur hands, and most importantly, YOU!!!
✦ . . 박성훈 ！
bf!sunghoon who would take you on ice skating dates and then take photos of you slipping on the ice (which don’t even come out that good because he’s busy laughing 🙄 )
bf!sunghoon who teases you then smirks when you get flustered like you teasing him doesn’t result in him having a mental breakdown of some sorts??? like boy plz
bf!sunghoon WHO IS SO SASSY OVER TEXT?? he’s literally your princess. “🙄🫸” is his go to emoji combo
bf!sunghoon who posts mirror selfies of the two of you and tries to be mysterious in the captions: “me n my girl 🖤”
bf!sunghoon who learns random english phrases (or ur main language) to impress you with
bf!sunghoon who wants to match styles with his s/o. would love to be the classy, romantic, sort of private couple.
bf!sunghoon who isn’t that into pda but if someone else starts flirting with you or even looks at you he’ll start being all touchy until the other person goes away. he’s super protective of u but doesn’t really show it that often
bf!sunghoon who pretends to be annoyed when you steal his hoodies knowing damn well he likes when you take his hoodies because they always smell like you after you give them back!!!!!
bf!sunghoon who loves to go on late night walks with you. everytime he sees a wildflower, he’ll pluck it for you and tuck it in your hair
bf!sunghoon who definitely can not fall asleep unless he gets a goodnight kiss from you 💖
✦ . . 김선우 ！
as your boyfriend, sunoo would love your hair sm.
especially if you had long hair he’d buy you shampoos, conditioners, everything! he’d also love to blow dry your hair for you and style it and everything
bf!sunoo would 100% let you sit on his lap and practice your makeup on him!!
bf!sunoo who would love to bake with you!!!! like he would make cakes and then use icing to spell out you two’s intials on the top
bf!sunoo who’s favorite form of affection is holding hands 💞 he’d do the thumb thing and adores when you grabs his hand randomly throughout the day, it gives him butterflies!
bf!sunoo who gets you small bouquets of tulips everytime he sees you!
bf!sunoo who loves to lay on your chest while cuddling and listen to your heartbeat (not in a creepy way, it’s just super comforting for him)
bf!sunoo who places gentle kisses all over your face before you fall asleep. he always makes sure to fall asleep after you so you’re comfortable
bf!sunoo who goes over your drama with you and hates whoever you hate. he’s your best friend and your boyfriend all at once!
bf!sunoo who is insanely creative when it comes to date ideas. he will make sure that he is the one planning dates most/all of the time!! his favorites are picnics, art dates, café dates and museum dates!!
bf!sunoo who loves to have a runway show in your bedroom after every one of your shopping trips!! he would coordinate the outfits and then cheer you on as you strut down the hallway
sunoo would tease you (not that much tho) about your height (would love a short gf!!) and then giggle about it and you just have to accept it cuz it makes him happy and his smile is literally the prettiest thing ever
bf!sunoo who genuinely does not know how to hate you, he’d give the softest love ever ☹️
✦ . . 양정원 ！
bf!jungwon who loves to tickle you. ik it sounds weird but just hear me out 🥰 he’d definitely just tickle the side of your waist randomly while you guys are cuddling just to hear your laugh and annoy you
bf!jungwon who prefers to be called “won” or other nicknames/petnames by you rather than his real name. would pout if you ever called him “jungwon” and go “hey!”
bf!jungwon who keeps a collection of cute photos of you on his phone to go through when he misses u ☹️ it’s genuinely so wholesome.
bf!jungwon also would keep a folder of just a bunch of 0.5 photos of you doing random things and make them your pfp on all messaging apps.
bf!jungwon who does silly little tiktok couple trends with you whenever you ask him to
bf!jungwon would ask you to do a spin everyday to see your outfit and then gush about how good you look!!
bf!jungwon, who often stays up late at night with you while the two of you talk about the future family you will have. | a conversation between the two of you would go, “we’ll have two kids! or three? or four?” “no, we’ll have cats instead. two cats, and one of them is you!”
bf!jungwon who ruffles your hair teasingly only to fix it again, pulling at each strand and placing it in its place gently
bf!jungwon who texts you random romantic song lyrics throughout the day, which never fail to fluster you and make you giggle
bf!jungwon who is a sucker for cheek kisses. before you leave him, he’d be like “oh, you’re forgetting something :(“ and you’d always play along, “what?” you’d say with a giggle as he’d point to his cheek, the place where you’d leave a small but loving peck!
✦ . . 西村力 ！
bf!riki who gets butterflies whenever you call him his real name, riki, over his stage name. it makes him feel closer to you 💞
bf!riki who would make playlists for the two of you, naming them with you guys’ initials.
bf!riki who’d always had this fantasy of teaching his future girlfriend to dance, and that’s exactly what he does with you. he’d slowly wrap his arms around your own and guide them to the music.
bf!riki just would not let you get out of bed?? like every morning it’s a struggle for you 💔 “ni-ki let me go i’ll be late!” “no, 5 more minutes 😠” and how could u say no
bf!riki who always giggles in between kisses, causing you to pull away and lean your forehead on his while the two of you smile at one another fondly
bf!riki who LOVES to see u in his hoodies!! in fact, he’d even leave his hoodies at ur house just to see you wear it, and then tease you for it. “ew, give me back my hoodie, stinky.” he’d say, but in his head he’s kicking his feet at how ur body is engulfed by the cloth which is 10x too long for you.
bf!riki who pulls you out of bed late at night for impromptu 3AM walks to the convenience store.
bf!riki would teach you japanese and absolutely die everytime you try to say something in japanese for him
bf!riki who would tease you so much, especially if you were shorter than him, he’d misplace your things, putting them on high shelves and whatnot so you have no choice but to ask him to grab it for you
bf!riki who is super shy in front of other people, but when it’s just you two he gets super physical and touchy and affectionate!
bf!riki who mumbles sweet nothings into the crook of your neck while you two are cuddling after he’s sure you’ve fell asleep 💤 💖
tysm for reading! 𓂃 back to the library !
⠀
#☆ hyeinkiss#enhypen#enhypen nishimura riki#enhypen kim sunoo#enhypen jake#enhypen sim jaeyun#sim jaeyun#enhypen park sunghoon#enhypen sunghoon#park sunghoon#enhypen soft hours#enhypen boyfriend#boyfriend#enhypen heeseung#enhypen jungwon#yang jungwon#lee heeseung#enha#headcanons#enhypen lee heeseung#enhypen yang jungwon#ni-ki#riki#heeseung#fluff#kpop#layout#kpop layout#enhypen headcanons
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You kept me like a secret, but I kept you like an oath
Synopsis: trying to spend time with your boyfriend while keeping your relationship private… or a secret…
Content: Alhaitham x fem!reader, low-profile/secret relationship, angst no comfort, writer!reader,
Warnings: slightly toxic if you squint, guilt-tripping, neglect, arguing, long intro (it gets good i promise), cursing, not proofread
Note: (Title from Taylor Swift’s ‘All Too Well (10 Minute Version) (Taylor’s Version)’) I tried to make this as in-character as possible while trying to convey the conflict of the plot so please let me know if there are any inaccuracies
—
The walls of Lambad’s tavern grew dim as the sun set; you, Tighnari, and Kaveh sat at a table having a little get-together. It didn’t feel complete, though, because two members of the group have yet to arrive. Cyno said he would be late due to an interrogation he has to do. And Alhaitham… he didn’t really give a notice but you all figured he was busy, being the acting grand sage and all that.
After a 30-minute rant about Kaveh’s clients, you talked about writing a new novel but you had no idea how to start it.
“Questions are overrated,” said Kaveh as he downed his drink, “I suggest you start with an at-large murder suspect being chased down by government officials—not guardes or the millelith, literal government officials.”
“You could ask Cyno for inspiration,” Tighnari suggests. You consider the idea but you figured Cyno wouldn’t have the time. “Or you could ask Alhaitham. I remember he has some experience in that field too.”
“Ah, yes,” you reply meekly. “I had forgotten.”
Hearing Alhaitham’s name felt like a stab to the heart, a curse laid upon you. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or suffering. After two years of dating, not a single soul knew about the two of you. As you asked yourself why that is, you give yourself an excuse that he simply wasn’t ready to be out. That he wanted you to make a name for yourself in case people would only remember you as the acting grand sage’s partner and not your rightful title as a writer.
When he first introduced the idea of keeping your relationship low-profile, you thought nothing of it. You knew he had no ill-intentions with the situation, so you agreed. But you thought the coast would be clear 6 months into the relationship.
During that time, the only signs of affection you got from him were when he was seldom tired from work and came home to you, longing for your warmth and drowning you with the most beautifully crafted compliments you could only dream of hearing. It was the side of him only you got to see. It was almost an honor being able to witness such greatness, all the while feeling like a goddess, worshipped and gratified by the gift of your presence.
Nowadays, you no longer felt like a deity worth praying to; that side of him became rarer than it already was.
The times when you were together—together being with the rest of your friends—you would always try to make some sort of contact with him just to feel the thrill of love your heart was aching to have, only for him to starve you of it and leave.
You felt alone, neglected, desperate, nonexistent, like a forgotten dream worth pursuing.
Everytime you thought of leaving, frames and fragments of his flattering psalms and echoing touch seemed worth the mind-numbing pain you’re going through. You’re the only one for me, he’d say. I don’t know what I did to deserve you. He would gaze upon you like you were a full moon, and you would embrace him like he was the sun.
But basking under the sun is bound to get you burned.
About an hour later, already midnight, Cyno had already arrived but Alhaitham was nowhere to be seen. Kaveh has had too many drinks and is now drunk to the core. And with the hopes of seeing Alhaitham’s face for once, you drank your fair share too. Your cheeks glowed with a drunken flush, a fire setting aflame to your frozen heart. Something he could never do.
“Looks like the acting grand sage will not be joining us,” Cyno pointed out.
A guffaw escaped from your throat, “What is there to even expect, Alhaitham has been busy since that damned Azar did… something.”
You can’t think clearly. The laugh you let out almost sounded like a sob, and to be honest, you were on the verge of crying. You were just tired. You needed the warmth only the love of your life could provide.
Then out of the blue, the voice you longed for an eternity echoed through the tavern, tired and monotonous. “Apologies for my utmost tardiness, there were some issues at the akademiya I needed to handle.”
Alhaitham.
Your stomach hurt all of the sudden. You watched as he walked to the seat opposite of you. Shouldn’t you be happy now? You were just about to break down because he wasn’t here. Now that he is, you should be content and watch your boyfriend from afar. But all you could feel was betrayal, the blank agony of despair, the cruel sting of rejection.
He failed to notice the tears that glossed your eyes, assuming it was the reflection of the light. Your gaze pierced his soul with desperation, begging for him to console you and just… do whatever. You were asking for even a squeak, a sliver of concern, the bare minimum.
“Tighnari, how is Collei doing with her studies?” Like he had a shield for your painful daggers, he didn’t even glance at your direction. Disappointment filled you like a glass of wine. You should be used to this by now—the overwhelming weight when he avoided your leg, another desperate cry you needed him to hear.
Tighnari shared Collei’s progress after seeing that you were okay. As much as you were proud of her, you prayed to every archon not to let her be in your situation. Your heart shreds for the other person, it screams his name like a priest in worship, and all that for naught.
The group laughed at something, you weren’t listening all that much. You just felt… empty.
Kaveh’s voice called your name, “Isn’t that right, Y/N?” The group turns to you, who was dazed and distracted. The architect immediately noticed this. He patted your cold hand, “Y/N?”
“Hm? Ah, yes. Yeah, sure.”
Alhaitham laughed, “You seem distracted tonight, Y/N. If you’re looking to write for the akademiya, that kind of attitude will not be tolerated.”
Somehow you got defensive. Was it Alhaitham’s obliviousness? The way he made it seem like you were aloof? His laugh that mocked you in your desolate state? Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever it was, it made you snap.
“Ah, Alhaitham, akademiya this, akademiya that—there are more things to life than work, you know.” Your voice covered up your attacks as simple friendly banter. You’ve gotten good at sucking up your anxieties and steadying your voice all thanks to him. Now you can cover yourself up real nice when you commit a crime. You have a knife in mind, and you’re ready to kill. “Like, I don’t know, a partner, per say.”
Stab.
The grand sage scoffed, “You know very well I don’t have time for such trivial things.” His muscles flex as he crossed his arms. So these were the words he chose to say to you, after centuries of broken promises and empty plates.
“Maybe you would if you actually made the time for one.”
Stab.
“You are aware that you just ignored what I just said, right? Are you even listening?”
Stab.
“Oh, I’ve been listening. For the past two years, I’ve been listening my butt out for you.” It was scarring how unbothered Alhaitham was; you wanted to scream at him. The tightening of your chest, the prickling of tears behind your eyes, the weight of despair settling in your stomach, could he see what you’re going through? “Now, all I ask is a little bit of sympathy because I have been suffering all alone, waking up to an empty bed, not even a-“
“Y/N, what are you talking about?” Alhaitham interrupted you, somewhat panicked. You didn’t realize how loud you were being, up from your seat with your palm stinging from how hard it hit the table. “You know, if you’re having boy problems, you don’t have to take it out on me. It’s not like I’m your boyfriend.”
Right then and there, your world began crashing down. “Alhaitham,” Cyno muttered disapprovingly, making Alhaitham realize how rude he sounded. The tavern’s customers hushed to listen to your table. You hadn’t realized there were so many people.
Without even looking around, you could feel their eyes on you, whispers riddled with scandal.
“They’re being so loud.”
“Has she no shame?”
“In the presence of Acting Grand Sage Alhaitham, too.”
“Look, the general mahamatra is there; she really needs to watch herself.”
The embarrassment, the anger; it all fuelled you with a feeling you could not explain. No metaphor could capture the entirety of the wickedness of a man. How come he gets to sit there with everyone’s respect while you grovel in your puddle of tears? How come he’s having the time of his life while you’re burning in hell?
“You’re right,” you began, eyes dulled and void of life—of love, “You’re not. Okay, that’s all the liquor I can handle, guys. I think I’ll be heading home now.”
“Y/N,” Kaveh called, standing from his seat to escort you on your way out.
“I can walk myself, Kaveh.” You grabbed your things and took a sip of water. “Acting Grand Sage, humblest apologies.” Once again, you looked at him with utmost disappointment before leaving the tavern and heading home.
—
I am adrift in a sea of longing, drowning in the silence of his absence, clutching to memories like driftwood in a storm-tossed ocean. Yet still, I cling to the fading embers of our love, fearing the darkness that awaits should I let them fade to ash.
Hours after you returned home, sleep had not been your friend. As much as it would be typical, you cried until your eyes stung. It was now 4am, the time Alhaitham usually wakes up. Lost in your never-ending, ever-agonizing thoughts, you stared blankly at the dining room, wondering if he will finally recognize his mistakes, how much pain you’ve been in.
The knob of your front door twisted open, and surprise, surprise, it was Alhaitham who entered your apartment. “What the FUCK was that, Y/N?” He was not one to raise his voice like that, or even curse.
“Of all the nights I was available, this was when and how you choose to talk to me?” Your voice was the opposite—calm, sad, empty.
“Do you realize you nearly told everyone about our relationship?” He spotted a notebook on your crossed lap and grabbed it. “What’s that, ‘I am adrift in a sea of..’ what? Y/N, is there something you’re not telling me?”
“You specialized in languages, Alhaitham, you’ll figure it out.”
The man scoffed, “I’m not a mind reader, Y/N, if you could stop being immature-“
“You’re calling me immature? Okay, what about you keeping our two-year relationship a fucking secret?” The both of you continued raising your voices at each other. If people in the tavern hadn’t already spread rumors, this will surely start them. “Just tell me you’re ashamed of me, Alhaitham!” Then the man fell silent. Serves him right. “Tell me you don’t love me, so you can have a concrete reason to leave!”
“You know being the acting grand sage was never an easy task. The Fatui and other rebelling organizations have me as their number one target, and they are more than willing to hurt anyone to get their way! I was keeping us a secret to protect you! Seeing you getting hurt would mean the end of the world.”
“Getting hurt?” You scoff, “If you never wanted me to get hurt, you’re doing a terrible fucking job. I had to sit through multiple tables with empty seats because you were never home. Do you know how embarrassing that is for myself? I had to tolerate every ounce of contact you avoided because ‘someone might see us.’ In case you couldn’t get how much pain I’m in, let me sum it up for you—IT HURTS MORE THAN DEATH, ALHAITHAM!”
As the last echoes of your argument faded into the silence of the empty apartment, it felt as though the very foundations of your world was crumbling around them. Each word spoken was like a dagger to the heart, tearing apart the fragile bonds of love that had once held you together.
Every word you said stung his chest, the last part beating him to a pulp. It was too late for regret to cross his mind. “I really did love you, Alhaitham, more than anything.”
Those words… he hadn’t heard them in what felt like eternity. All he wanted to do was melt into your arms and apologize endlessly for all his wrongdoings, the times he barely came home, the mornings he could’ve spent with you. He’s been feeling this way for what feels like centuries. If he opened his arms to you, would you still embrace him? Would you still forgive him?
“But I can’t keep giving myself excuses to tolerate all of this.”
He looked at you, your eyes that were once so full of light now dimming of any source. The desperation, the longing you both share. There was so much sadness in your eyes. Have you always looked at him that way? Alhaitham was always quick on his feet—he had to find a way to convince you to stay!
“Y/N,” he began, “We can’t just give up on everything we’ve been through. All the dates, anniversaries, everything we took our time to make—it will all be a waste if we give up now.”
“I think you gave up on us the first time you dropped my hand when I reached for you.”
You were slowly slipping from his grasp, from his future. “I’m willing to give you all the time you need. Every meal, every date, every word you desire, I will make time for all of it. I promise you.”
“How can I know this will be another empty promise? How will I know you won’t do this again? You were never the type to offer everything so helplessly, Alhaitham.”
“Y/N, can’t you see-“
“Where were you during my sleepless nights? Where were you when I had prepared the perfect dinner for us? Where were you when I stood in the middle of the park, waiting for a certain someone to show up?
You were never there, Alhaitham. But I forgave you for all of that. I gave you a million last chances.”
A million last chances… you were thinking of leaving him beforehand? When he couldn’t seem to move his mouth, you decided you’ve had enough.
“Please, leave.”
It was too late for him now. He was long gone from saving you, from saving this relationship. There was nothing left to say, or do.
In the dim light of dawn, you both stood alone, tears a silent testament to the shattered dreams and broken promises that littered the floor like shards of glass. And as you watched your former lover walk away, a part of you knew that the wounds inflicted that night would never fully heal, leaving behind nothing but the bitter taste of regret and the haunting echo of what could have been.
(Part 2 is out now!)
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham angst#4ggravate#angst#alhaitham x reader#genshin angst#genshin fanfic#alhaitham fanfic
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All Mine
Momo x Reader
Words Count: 1.7k
A/N: I just wanted to write this to get rid of the idea. And also yes, I should be writing other things like the chapter of the stories i still didn't update. But here I'm, writing obscenities.
As always, I hope you have fun reading this.
You were sure that you were the luckiest person in the world, there couldn't be anyone luckier. Right in front of you you had your girlfriend with her chest pressed against the bed, her back arched at an angle that only someone with her flexibility could reach; and her ass up. Her knees were well planted on the mattress, wide apart from each other. Which was why her plump buttocks parted naturally as well, letting you clearly see her sodden vagina and her tight rear entrance. The full sight of having Momo in that position was a wonder, a delight you dare say.
"Are you going to fuck my ass, or am I going to have to go out and find someone else who does?" Momo moved her butt impatiently from side to side trying to get your attention.
"You'd love that, right?" You gave her a spank that resounded throughout the room. Despite having a very athletic body and well-toned musculature, her butt was still very soft, so the hit made her buttock tremble as if it were made of jelly. A delicious peach flavored jelly. "You'd like to go hunting and fuck as many people as you can."
"Yeah." Momo replied with a mischievous smile on his lips. "But it's still more fun when you fuck me."
“I love so much that you are a hopeless slut.” You leaned in to put your face inches from your girlfriend's crotch, from where you could smell the delicious scent of her holes. You two had been fucking for a while now, and even though she had come a couple of times, you knew that when she was in the mood for anal it wasn't over until you filled her ass. The very thought of fucking that wonderful tight asshole again was enough to make your cock throb, and when you were in front of Momo it seemed to have a life of its own.
You spread her cheeks with both hands for better access before taking a long lick from her clit, past her soaking vagina, to the puckered opening of her ass. The taste of her juices was quite a delight, nothing that even the best dessert in the world could match. You could spend hours eating her pussy, to the point that your girlfriend came so many times that she ended up with cramped legs due to spasms. But now the cavity that interested you was not that.
Your tongue swirled around her anus, licking and salivating as much as you could. Savoring even the most remote confines of her, as if you hadn't eaten for a week. If you loved the taste of her vagina, then you had to invent a new word for what you felt for the taste of her ass. It was without a doubt your favorite, and Momo loved how obsessed you were with it.
Now the tip of your tongue was entering her anus, doing all the work to dilate it as much as possible. You could hear loud moans from her, indicating that you were doing a wonderful job. But unfortunately you were aware that your saliva was not enough to lubricate such a perfect ass, if you did not want to hurt your girlfriend you had to use real lubricant. Which is why you reluctantly parted from her anus and grabbed the bottle of lube you had next to you. Then you let a thick stream fall on Momo's anus.
"Be careful, it's cold." She complained when the viscous liquid touched her skin. Without giving importance to her words, you began to spread the lubricant where you had been leaving your saliva before. Using your middle and ring fingers you made sure to drench and massage her anus, drawing circles over her wrinkled entrance. When you decided that your care, added to what your tongue did before, was enough, you put both fingers inside it. The sudden intrusion made Momo moan in surprise, and in the wave of pleasure that ran through her body.
Knowing that she could take it perfectly, you began to put your fingers in and out, fucking her ass at a steady pace. For her part, she let herself be loved and only her moans told you that you were doing well, that she was enjoying it a lot. You even dared to separate your digits a bit, wanting to maximize the pleasure she felt and dilating her entrance even more.
"I love having your fingers inside me, but that's not what I want right now." Your impatient girlfriend said between moans, urging you to fuck her in a different way.
"Always so impatient my love." You took out your fingers out making a fart noise when all that was left inside was the lube you left behind. You took a few seconds to watch her anus slowly close in the absence of your fingers, before positioning yourself to penetrate her. "Spread those buttocks for me."
"If I do, are you going to hurry?" Despite always bothering you, you know that her impatience is due to the fact that she loves you very much, and of course you couldn't love her less than she loves you. How else could you have done so many dirty things together?
You watch in delight as she uses both hands to spread her cheeks apart, causing her anus and vagina to open up a bit in a rather obscene way. Knowing that this is your cue, you smear some lube on your cock and rub the tip against her anus. The touch is so pleasant that you have to force yourself not to cum before even penetrating her. But after having spent so much time fucking the truth is that you were already close to your limit.
Using pressure you work your way into her anal cavity slowly, stretching her walls an inch at a time. You feel as though you had lubricated it well, the pressure on your penis is overwhelming, you moan yourself as you enter it. “I love fucking your ass so much.”
"I know, I'm irresistible." You were going to laugh at your girlfriend's words, but just at that moment she squeezes her anus to maximize the pleasure of both of you. You let the air out of your lungs in a loud moan, causing Momo to laugh. “Are you about to cum yet?”
You spank her again before responding. "You know yes." You begin to move slowly, fucking her ass at a pace that was obviously not enough for both of you. “I never last too long fucking you from behind”
Momo lets go of one of her buttocks and uses his right hand to rub her clit as she slowly picks up the pace of your thrusts. I know, it's my ass you fill when you cum.” So knowing what she's doing she's squeezing and releasing her anus with a random rhythm that drives you crazy. You can hear her laugh as you speed up the pace with which you fuck her in revenge for the wonderful things she was doing with her body.
Now all that can be heard in the room is the slapping of your hips against her ass, and the moans from both of you. Sweat soaks your forehead, and you can see how also covers your girlfriend's back with a thin layer. That well-toned back that you loved to kiss and massage, but now was not the time to think about those things. It was time to focus on other things just as loving, like fucking your girlfriend's ass as fast as possible.
Her anus was swallowing your cock completely and then you would pull it out until you almost withdrew from it, to put it back all the way to the base. And despite clenching and releasing her ass muscle she never stopped massaging her clit. Even now she had inserted two of her fingers and was fucking herself trying to match the pace of your thrusts.
"Babe... I'm close." You heard her say it in the most loving way she could, which made it all the obscene. "Fill my ass with your hot milk please."
"Is that what my bitch wants?"
“Yesssss… Please cum inside my ass.”
"Your wishes are orders my Queen." After those words you increase the pace of your thrusts to the point where your hips ached, but that didn't matter when it came to pleasuring your beloved. You knew she was close, and certainly you were about to cum too. You weren't going to last much longer and you both were aware of that.
Already with erratic thrusts, while she continued using her fingers to fuck her vagina, you continued penetrating her ass. But you knew that this was already your limit. With one last strong thrust you left your cock inside Momo and came inside her tight ass. You held on to her hips to keep from falling as the orgasm clouded your vision and sent spasms through your entire body. Between your moans you could hear how she was also enjoying her own orgasm, and you could also feel it because her anus was tighter than ever. Smothering your cock as her juices trickled down her thighs.
When all your milk had spilled inside your beloved's rectum, you carefully withdrew. Her anus took a few seconds to close completely, during which time some of your semen squirted out.
Then they both collapsed on the bed, covered in sweat and gasping for breath. Thus, all tired and sticky, you hugged her from behind and covered her shoulders with kisses.
"That was incredible. My last orgasm was the strongest of all.”
"I know, you almost squeezed my dick."
"Exaggerated." Between giggles Momo rubs her butt against your now flaccid penis, just to annoy you.
"Do you want me to clean your ass?" You ask her while you continue kissing her shoulders.
She interweaves her fingers with yours before responding.
"No, thanks. I love how feels your semen inside me." She lifts your hand to kiss it before placing it back on her lap. "We better go to sleep."
"Honey, it's three in the afternoon."
"Do you have something better to do?" You burst out laughing at her question, and before you know it you snuggle up to her and settle in for a nap you certainly needed to pull yourself together. God, how you love this woman.
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True Love vs Infatuation | Gojo x Reader
Summary: Gojo loves nothing more than spending time with you, even if it only consists of doing the most mundane of things. It wasn't until today, you realized just how much Gojo Satoru loves you.
Pairing: High School Gojo x YN
Genre: fluff, established relationship
Word Count: 2.4k
A/n: Imma be so honest idk wtf this is but I wrote it a hellaaa long time ago. So bc JJK s2 is out I thought why not post this drabble I wrote a long ass time ago. I also genuinely think this prolly isn't how canon Gojo would act but bruh I tried!! Anyways enjoy
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Incandescent fireflies painted the dark sky with small flakes of light, creating an enriched serene atmosphere for reading.
So there you sat cross-legged, outside your balcony, fully engrossed by the book you were reading.
You slowly became hypnotised by the words allocated within the pages of the novel you were reading.
As your eyes further loomed through the pages and comprehended the context, your eyebrows furrowed in irritation and cuss words occasionally left your lips.
Lost and captivated by the words decorating the interior pages of the book, you paid no mind to the snoring boy who laid down on your lap.
You continued reading the story. Book in your dominant hand; whereas, the other one gently massaged the scalp of the teenage boy on your lap.
Page after page began to turn, and soon enough you’ve reached the final page… to say you were disappointed was an understatement.
Angered at the ending, you immediately slammed the book down on a coffee table and debated on whether or not you should ignite it on fire for illustrating such a realistic yet heartbreaking ending.
Your sudden outburst lured the teenage boy out of his sleep, and he groaned, carelessly rubbing his eyes during his tired state.
“Did one of your favourite manga boys die again?” he asked, now fully sitting up and stretching his arms.
“You’re not entirely wrong,” you aggravatedly muttered.
“Then tell me what’s aggravating your pretty self and giving you wrinkles,” he stated and you didn’t even bother showing your irritation to the latter comment.
You took a deep breath, turned your head and he watched as your eyes became livid as you recited the vast difference of each character’s milieu and how their fate perfectly intertwined with one another.
Your hands doing all sorts of motions, in an attempt to exemplify your extreme dislike and sadness of the poetic story you read.
A story involving two individuals who unconsciously were ameliorating each other’s lives.
“It’s infuriating Satoru!! Did these two airheads even love each other?? It hasn’t even been like 24 hours and the girl is already marrying the man who was bawling his eyes over another girl- love of my life my ass,”
Satoru listened to your outburst intently, smiling at the sounds of your melodic voice.
You let out a small huff of frustration, before finally ending your rant and the tears suddenly cascaded down your pale skin, “That being said, the author is able to write damn well.”
Satoru only laughed quietly, wiping away your stray tears with his right hand, “I thought you hated sad romantic books? Why would you willingly choose to read Shakespere? At least watch the movie instead,” he replied and began playing with your hair.
His reply caught you off guard and you tilted your head in confusion, staring at him with wide eyes.
“You know what book I’m talking about?” you asked incredulously.
“Yes… why do you look so shocked?” he asked, continuing to brush the threads of your h/l h/c hair, “It’s Romeo and Juliet, how could I not know? I swear Shoto was straight up fangirling about the movie actor-Da Vinci!!”
“Da Vinci?” you replied, flicking his forehead and trying to hide your growing amusement, causing the man to pout his lips, “How the hell would a painter act? A dead painter at that.”
“No- no Leonardo Da Vinci the actor-”
It took every fibre in you to not burst out laughing at the moron in front of you, “My love, listen to me carefully- it's Di Caprio. Da Vinci painted the Mona Lisa.”
The man in front of you scoffed at your reply.
“Da Vinci. Di Caprio, who cares. They’re both Leo’s involved in the art industry of the world. You must admit though, neither of them compare to me!” he said proudly.
“I don’t know…. Leonardo Di Caprio does seem to have a lot of fangirls right now…. I mean have you seen him in Romeo and Juliet? Or better yet, Titanic?”
The man only poked the interior of his cheek with his tongue, scowling at you as you laughed.
“The real question is though- did you read the book?”
“Yes,” he let out, not missing a beat.
“The Satoru Gojo reads? The world must be ending,” you teased, clasping one of his hands and using your other hand to caress his cheek.
Satoru didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into your hand and softly smiled.
His eyes soon twinkled into amusement, as an idea struck him.
Noticing the change of his behaviour, you lifted an eyebrow to display your confusion. Satoru remained silent and instead flipped you over, so that your back was pressed against the couch.
He smirked, straddling your hips and began tickling your sides.
Squirming under his touch, you burst into fits of laughter, “T-toru…. S-stop….” you tried to breathe out, “Gojo- p-please hahahaha.”
Your pleas only encouraged him to tickle you faster, and you soon began to kick your feet, thrashing beneath the man as if your strength could overpower his.
“Say Gojo Satoru is the strongest person in the world,” he smiled, continuing his attack.
“I’d rather die,” you said in between heaps of laughter.
The man poked the interior of his cheek before smirking at you, a playful smile adorning his face as he continued with his attack.
“Being tickled to death. Hm that seems new, I’ll discard your body so don’t worry, suit yourself,” he replied and grazed his fingers at your newly exposed skin, since your shirt slowly began to ride up above your navel.
“Ok ok… Gojo… is the… strongest person….”
“Go on, continue,” he encouraged.
Despite the laughter escaping your lips, forcing your eyes shut, you already sensed the cockiness behind his words and you immediately laughed harder when you thought of something that would catch him off guard.
“Gojo- i-is… the… strongest….” you stuttered out.
“Altogether, now, state the full name,” he stated. Although, it seemed more like a command than a request.
“OK!! Gojo Y/n is the strongest person in the world,” you spurred out in one quick breath.
Impressed with the turn of events and his lack of words, you could not help but smirk- considering you made this cocky guy lose his demeanour.
His tickling immediately ceased, his irises resembling a deer caught in the headlights, and his mouth slowly falling open.
Gojo was in disbelief, as he tried to ensure his hearing wasn’t deteriorating and the words that escaped your mouth not too long ago were not a part of his mere illusive imagination.
Before he could recover and say some snide snarky remark, you grabbed Satoru’s shirt, pulling him down with you against the cushions of the couch you resided on.
The action took him by surprise, but he didn't refuse and instead grabbed your waist, pulling you closer to him, with his arms eventually caging you beneath him.
He licked your bottom lip, and you found yourself parting your mouth slightly, both your tongues intertwining with one another.
Caressing your cheek, he then began to angle your head more towards the left, and did not hesitate to bite your bottom lip shortly after.
You hissed at the new sensation, and Gojo immediately attempted to alleviate the now burning sensation on your lips by running his lips over the new forming bruise.
You were the first to pull back to breathe. As the both of you attempted to even out your breathing, one of your hands caressed his dusted pink cheeks, while the other one removed his sunglasses, revealing those piercing icy blue eyes you fell in love with.
He looked at you with such love and adoration that you could not help but feel butterflies swarming around your stomach.
Your e/c eyes looked up at his illuminating bright blue ones and you smiled, “I’m the strongest person in the world, Toru.”
“That you are,” he replied, kissing your nose.
“You’re not even going to rebuttal and be the cocky bastard you usually are?” You questioned him, raising an eyebrow.
“You’re the strongest… The strongest doesn’t necessarily mean having the most power. It’s your character. Plus you got me… not just anyone could make me fall in love with them. You have my tall ass whipped around your finger.”
You stared at your boyfriend, in awe and bursted out laughing. “We’re both strong. How about that?”
“Mhm. We’re the top two strongest special grade sorcerers to exist, and for the next century to come” he muttered and buried himself into your neck, as he was now fully lying down on you.
You laughed at his reply, “Your best friend might not like that statement so much,”
“... I mean you’re also my best friend and technically you’re stronger than him, not by a longshot but still stronger nonetheless… and I couldn’t be more proud of you,” he mumbled and kissed your neck.
You quietly hummed in reply, and began to softly hymn the songs of a soft lullaby.
Satoru was still lying on top of you, and as the melody escaped your lips, your fingers threaded his soft white hair.
Gojo Satoru was at peace. This cocky bastard was like putty in your hands, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
To others his exterior forecasted a childish, arrogant and conceited individual. One who would blatantly show his dislike to those who he did not give an ounce of care for.
And to the shaman and other sorcerers who only knew his name, he was a force to be reckoned with and feared.
But to you, he was only Gojo Satoru.
“Y/n?” he called out softly.
“Yeah?”
“You know, I love you, right?” his face may have been hiding in your neck, but you could feel him smiling.
You raised an eyebrow at his sudden comment, but even you couldn’t stop the smile threatening to form, “I know. And I love you too, forever and always,”
“You didn’t lie though earlier,” he randomly stated, “One day, your new name will become Gojo Y/n.”
“Satoru…” you whispered, fighting back the tears that were threatening to fall.
“One day, I’ll marry you… and when we’re older you'll become the mother of our children.”
“One day Satoru, one day,” you replied, kissing his temple. “By the way, since when did you even read- romance books?”
You felt his breathing hitch and he slowly pried himself off of you, aimlessly scratching the back of his head.
“Uhm… like two years ago?”
“Why though?”
“About two years ago, there was a new transfer student. I noticed she was eloquently spoken, especially in English-”
“Eloquently spoken??” You asked, trying to suppress your laughter.
“Shut up and let me finish,”
You covered your mouth and smiled.
“Anyways, I was coming back from a mission and stuffing my face with an assortment of sweets. Then I heard you and Shoko talking about romance novels, and how you liked guys that read… so the first book I picked up was some corny romance manga and then I read Romeo and Juliet. Shitty book that I barely understood but happy ending I guess.”
“So you only started reading because you overheard me talk about it?” you pinched his cheeks, “Aw, first year Gojo Satoru was so whipped and in love, how sweet”
Satoru only rolled his eyes at your statement, and you bursted out laughing as you remembered his attempts to woo you back in your first year.
“I thought you barely had any hobbies?” you asked.
“I don’t. Because I’m good at everything.”
“Yet you still chose to pick up reading of all things?” you slightly laughed.
“I would pick up any hobby if you asked me to, honestly.”
“No offence, but if that is where you got your romance from you did a shitty job, love.” you giggled.
“Ouch,” he replied, “But hey it went pretty well, you’re mine now anyways.”
“That you are,” You replied, kissing his nose. “So if you read the book and I assume you also watched the movie, do you understand my pain?”
“100% Romeo is an airhead. He was probably just horny and infatuated with the first female he saw,” he bluntly stated and you couldn’t help but laugh out loud, Satoru joining in on your laughter.
As your laughs began to die down he continued, “On a serious note though… Whether or not it was love, their actions prove that they did love each other. I guess love really does make you blind, their suicide only proved that.”
“Tragic ending?”
“Not really… in a way, I believe it’s a happy ending- that is, assuming those two airheads were actually in love with each other.”
“Did you not hear me muttering cuss words when reading and slamming the book? If you asked me, that book was nothing but aggravating and sad.”
“Sad as their death was, it was a happy ending. They claimed to have met their soulmate and the love of their life before they died. Not everyone gets that luxury you know?”
You looked at your boyfriend with both amazement and confusion, “Since when were you so wise?”
“I don’t even know, love. But I’m not wrong…. Our story would be much happier though, because neither of us are gonna die.”
“You spoke nothing but the truth,” you quietly replied and the two of you began leaning into each other once again.
“Who knew Satoru could be such a wise lil baby,” said a voice, laughing.
The two of you immediately pulled away, and looked up to see no one other than Geto Suguru, the poor third wheeler of your relationship.
“Suguru… how long have you been there for?” you asked.
“Enough to know that this man loves you way too much… to the point where he knows his feelings for you aren’t infatuation but solid feelings.”
While you were a blushing mess, Gojo only smiled and smacked his best friend on his back, “Okay enough chit chat, why don’t we all get something to eat, yeah? I suggest-”
“Steak. We’re eating steak tonight at that new restaurant. You both are paying. It’s the least you could do for making me witness such crap.”
“You’re just mad because you’re single, bro”
“Ain’t that the truth,” you agreed.
“Shut the actual fuck, both of you lovebirds.”
The three of you then laughed and made your way to the restaurant of Suguru’s choice.
A/n: So any thoughts? I hope you all liked it <3 Ngl, this does have another part to it, but idk if I'll ever post it tbh. Follow me on my ao3 account I have other ffs there too @idekmxre
#gojo satoru#jjk gojo#jjk x reader#gojo x y/n#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen#yn#jujutsu sorcerer#fanfic#character x reader#fluff#jjk fluff#established relationship#fanfiction#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujustu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen season 2
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