#HONESTLY THE LYRICS REMIND ME OF THEM A LOT NOT JUST THAT | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doromoni · 1 month

Text

Not Over the Papaya | OP81

⊹ ｡•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Ships : Oscar Piastri x Popstar! Reader , Ex!Lando Norris x Popstar! Reader

Genre : Fluff Smau

A/N : This is so fun to writeeee.Also would you guys like a series masterlist… or does my current Main masterlist do the job? Btw just another reminder ~ no hate to the people referenced in this fic.

Face claim : Jennie Kim

Warnings : Mild cursing , Grammar Errors

Summary : Y/N and Oscar cope with their own breakups by making the Heartbreak Club.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

< Previous | Part 2 | Next >

landonorris 1h

*messages are disabled

Notification : You received a message from Oscar

Notification : You received a message from Max

*Message sent

*Incoming call from Oscar

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

“Hi Y/N”

“Hi Osc”

“So how have you been?”

“Really Oscar? how have I been… could you be more awkward?”

“Yes really, now answer the question gremlin”

“Ok fine. I’ve been feeling shitty lately, because your teammate decide to cheat on me. How about you Oscar how have you been?”

“I’ve been feeling like shit too. Because my high school girlfriend decided to cheat on me then proceed to dump me over text”

“Wait… what?? She broke up with YOU? and she did it over text too? I did not know that”

“Yup, honestly couldn’t get more sad than that I guess”

“Well if it helps, Lando did the same to me… so yeah.”

“Wow. What amazing exes we have huh?”

“I know right? were just so lucky on that department. So what are you doing to cope?”

“You know, I have racing and training to keep my mind off it. Logan’s trying to be there for me as much as he can. How bout you?”

“Hmmm~ thats great to hear. Me? I uh guess writing songs really helps”

“You know, talking to you really helps too.”

“Really?? Well i like talking to you too Osc”

“Yeah, you’ve been a surprising addition to my schedule. Never imagined being this friendly with my teammates’s girlfriend”

“EX-girlfriend. And yeah same … and I’m grateful that I got to talk to you. SEE I told you Heartbreak Club will help us!”

“Alright, Nerd. I admit it”

“Hmm. I just realized something.”

“What?”

“I’ve never heard you talk as much before. Oh my! did I just influence you to becoming a yapper??”

“Ok dork shut up”

“HHAHAHAHAAH”

“Where are you now? Your in England right?”

“Yes. I’m at my condo… why?”

“how about a coffee run?”

“Since when did you drink coffee?? and now??”

“Since you forced me drink the latte at the MTC and yes now. Are you in or not?”

“YES! i’m down”

“Alright. Dress up and I’ll pick you up.”

“Mkay! drive safe. Byeee”

“I will. Bye Y/N”

*Call ended

Y/N. 45m

*comments are disabled

oscarpiastri 30m

story replies

Y/N. Wow since when did you start taking aesthetic photos 🤭

oscarpiastri I get tons of practice because a certain someone makes me take soo much pictures.

landonorris I thought you broke up with your girlfriend

oscarpiastri I did.

landonorris oh? who’s she thenn

oscarpiastri someone special to me.

lilyz who’s the girl?

oscarpiastri it doesn’t concern you.

Y/N.

liked by y/bf , oscarpiastri, sabrinacarpenter, charles_leclerc, and others

Y/N. You embarrassed me motherf—

sabrinacarpenter YES. Slay Mama~ I see you 🤭.

Y/N. did I do justice with your lyrics Luv?

sabrinacarpenter I knew smth hot was coming when you asked to use my lyrics!

Y/N. 🤭🤭🤭

user1 That body bang! y/n really said not yours anymore.

user2 she’s hot, talented and successful. Lando fumbled BAD.

user3 Not Y/N casually letting us know she’s booked Calvin Klein. 🥵

user4 Ok but who’s that on the 2nd and 5th slide thooo.

user5 if its a friend or smth more who caresss if Lando could jump into a relationship that fast, Y/n could as well.

user6 Oscar in the likes, I see you.

user7 I lowkey ship 🫣

user8 maybe its oscar in the photos too!

user6 Y/N and Oscar have been interacting lots lately

user9 Oscar’s with lily tho.

user10 I haven’t seen them together for so long. Smth seems off tbh.

user11 Oscar and lily are both private people so of couse we don’t get to see them.

Y/N. why are y’all gossiping in my comments 🧐

user6 WTF hello @Y/N??

oscarpiastri

liked by Y/N. , mclaren, logansargeant, charles_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri Change of plans. I’m into coffee now ☕️

logansargeant in my years of knowing you , you never drank coffee

oscarpiastri well taste changes mate, what can I say? liked by Y/N.

charles_leclerc now you’re really my son!

user1 WHO TAUGHT OSCAR HOW TO POST CUNTY PICS?

user2 show yourself! we need to thank you 😭

user3 I choked on air when I saw it was posted on Oscar’s personal ig! i thought it was a fan page or smth.

user4 3rd slide had me on a chokehold!!

user5 Oscar’s hotness aside. Why does the caption sound so cryptic.

user6 Right?? is it really about coffee tho… ur very suspect Oscar Jack Piastri.

user7 specially when rumors of Oscar and Lily breaking up???

user8 What do you mean? where did you hear that??

user7 check twitter girl!

user9 Ok now Y/N’s in the likes and her liking Oscar’s reply!! What is happening yall 😭

user10 everything has been so messy. but ngl when Y/N used Oscar’s Tweet format? Iconic.

user11 Y/Nscar interactions are migrating to instagram.

*Incoming call from Oscar

Pick up or Decline

Pick up

“Hello, Osc. What’s up?”

“I need your help.”

“With what exactly?”

“Making an announcement”

Anyone interested to be added to the taglist? Drop a comment or DM me!

Series Taglist : @champagneproblems17 @itsjustfranzi @cheriwritesig @forza-charles @awritingtree @sltwins @gr1mes-cc @hwalllllllelujah @btsfluffsworld @tillyt04 @landotd open for tag request

Main taglist : @myescapefromthislife @peterholland04 @charlottef1 @fangirl125reader @mel164 @gnarlycore @chloelovesln4 @vickykazuya @merchelsea @ln4author @qzmef @nxk1309 @styl1shl1v : open for tag request

900 notes · View notes

bluebugjay · 2 months

Text

A lot of people aren't vibing with Charles and Crystal's romance and honestly i think it's because it's not necessarily supposed to be a full-fledged, endgame romance.

I think it's written to be a fling.

Charles is a flirt; one of the first things he thinks about when Edwin tells him ghosts can't feel is that he would miss kissing, he says himself it's nice to be seen by someone his own age, he calls Crystal fit, etc. Assumably between cases he has a very small social circle of literally just Edwin so it makes sense that this girl who he gets on with and finds attractive immediately becomes a bit of a crush for him.

Then Crystal picks up on his flirting almost immediately, again they get on, etc. She says if he wasn't dead and she wasn't dealing with the aftermath of her toxic relationship with David he would be a good addition to her body count, i.e. just a fling. She doesn't say they'd date or she could fall for him just that they'd probably hook up.

Their first kiss happens when they're both dealing with some heavy stuff, Charles is angry, continuing to push down his trauma with his father and his past, Crystal is annoyed about not being any closer to getting her memories back whilst trying to deal with the trauma her last relationship caused her. They find comfort in each other in that moment. Crystal says she wants something real and the care they have for each other is real, there's no manipulation, no secrets. It's honest and it's innocent.

The song that plays in that scene is called Young Blood (White Sea Remix) by The Naked and Famous and has lyrics such as 'we're only young and naive still' and 'can't help myself but count the flaws, claw my way out of these walls, one temporary escape' and 'we lie beneath the stars at night, our hands gripping each other tight, you keep my secrets hope to die' - It does align with the idea that they're what each other wants in the moment, a distraction, to be able to pretend everything is normal and ok (keep each others secrets)

Crystal in the next episode, the next morning after their kiss, literally calls Charles a 'cute distraction' and says they should be friends. This time both of their issues and trauma are the reason for them not continuing the relationship. Blatantly, Crystal isn't ready for another relationship so soon after David, she wakes up with a nightmare about him and Charles. They bring up Charles fighting the Night Nurse and Charles says that he thought they were on the same page about it and 'at least that's how it seemed last night' which again leans into the fact they were both looking for comfort. Charles and Crystal kissing had nothing explicitly to do with her supporting his actions fighting the Night Nurse and yet that's how he took it because that's what he was searching for comfort from and acceptance on. Which is most likely why he seems to take the rejection harder than Crystal, seemingly agreeing to be friends more out of respect for her choice than the want to call it quits himself.

Charles tells Edwin later on about the kiss (right after Edwin is complaining about having to cancel plans with Monty) and says though he didn't physically feel it, he did feel it 'up here' and points to his head. The mind is generally not the place you feel love, I feel that's a given. (reminds me of the starfish on the beach that Niko says are in love, Edwin points out starfish have no brain and Niko says love doesn't require logic, meaning: love is not stored in the mind.) Charles and Edwin's conversation veers off to being about there own relationship, with Charles saying he wouldn't want to be dead with anyone else - not even the girl you just kissed? No? Ok.

The way that episode goes (The case of the two dead dragons) Crystal and Charles end up arguing about the very reasons they decided to not continue their relationship. Crystal likens Hunter and Brad to David, and Charles defends them saying not everyone is her demon ex-boyfriend which seems like he's projecting and really defending himself. Then Crystal calls him out on his 'rage problem' and what happened with the Night Nurse. So though they comforted each other the night before, their real feelings for each others issues are surfacing and they're not so on the same page. Of course they get over this and apologise soon enough. Though in the end, it's Edwin Charles opens up to and actually talks to about how he's feeling rather than pushing it aside and looking for a distraction. And after that, Charles gives Crystal genuine comfort not just a distraction by listening to her talk about her nightmares/visions about David. (immediately followed by the scene of Edwin and Monty on the swings in which Edwin suggests they don't see each other anymore, then back tracks, they kiss followed by rejection which definitely has... parallels)

After that, Crystal and Charles are still an obvious source of comfort for one another, they talk to each other about their stresses, they stick close together a lot of the time but there's nothing inherently romantic to their actions aside from the fact we know they have kissed which gives their actions a depth that, for example Edwin and Niko's don't, despite them also being affectionate and spending time together alone.

Then in the last episode as Crystal is attempting to leave for London, her and Charles share another kiss. When she tries to say bye to Charles, he says it feels like a 'good-bye good-bye' rather than a 'see you back in London good-bye' and Crystal doesn't correct him, essentially confirming it was supposed to be a forever goodbye. She instead kisses him. It's a good-bye kiss. A (supposed to be) final kiss. A 'we had a good run' type of kiss. Crystal kisses him because she thinks she'll never see him again. It's similar to the first in which the kiss itself is the beginning and end, and it doesn't mean much past that. It's a kiss as a secret again, like their first kiss. A kiss to fill the space left by things they don't want to talk about. She doesn't want to admit she's planning on leaving for good so she kisses him instead, it's a comfort and it's a distraction. (and its consistent)

When Crystal decides to stay in the end, Charles says it'll be great, then specifies that 'solving cases together' will be great, not anything else that could of implied. Which could either be them just being awkward, or a flip in their dynamic that now Crystal is the one more involved in their relationship and Charles is the one setting boundaries.

Overall I think they have a really interesting dynamic. They are exactly what each other needs in moments and then the opposite in the next, they care about each other so much yet are possibly the people that unearth each others insecurities and traumas the most. They're both looking for a new, different kind of relationship and find it within the other but inherently once the novelty fades they fall more into being friends than anything more. I think like most of the relationships in this show, they're supposed to be complicated, they're supposed to be more of a journey than a destination. They learn and grow from their interactions together and I think that's something really beautiful.

#this is so long oops #also this isnt ship hate! if crystal and charles r ur fav ship ur valid and cool! this is just my take on things personally :)#dead boy detective agency #dead boy detectives #dbda #crystal palace #charles rowland #crystal palace surname von hoverkraft #edwin payne

463 notes · View notes

elllisaaa · 23 days

Note

fjhkvdhfvd I LOVE YOUR BF THOUGHTS SO MUCH!!! you write them so well 😭😭😭 can we please get a vernon one!!! ahhh

thank youuu so much ! i'm really glad this concept gets attention because i really like doing this, hope you'll like it !

BF!VERNON who's maybe not the most expressive but who knows how to show you that he loves you through many other ways.

vernon says "i love you" without any words, and actually, you love it that way a lot. for example, whenever you recommend a song to him or when he sees you listening to something he doesn't know, he's gonna go listen to it too. you have a shared playlist and he also made you a playlist filled with songs that reminded him of you, and the lyrics or vibes sometimes hit so deep it makes you tear up how much he gets you. this is something recurring between you and vernon - the non-verbal communication. you can literally spend hours and hours with each other without even speaking because you don't need words to understand each other. that's something vernon loves a lot because sometimes he just wants to hold you in his arms, scroll on his phone and not talk at all. both of you often have stay at home dates rather than going out, but vernon always makes sure to plan a fun activity - like building legos, trying to learn how to paint or doing scrapbooking with pics of the two of you. it allows you to test some activities you wouldn't usually have and it's fun when it's with him.

"what are we doing tonight baby ?" - "it's a secret, but i know you're gonna love it."

he stares at you a lot whenever you're doing mundane things - washing the dishes, simply reading or when you're putting on makeup. it's so domestic, it makes his heart beat faster and think about marrying you soon. vernon also does this when you're talking with someone else, staring at you because he just loves to see you live and shine. he always has a faint smile on his lips when he's watching you, and generally, he smiles a lot around you. that's something his members quickly noticed, even before the two of you got together. and you never fail to tell him that you love his smile, and that flusters him every time. actually, every one of your compliments makes him shy. however, he often flusters you very easily with some random words or gestures and gifts that make you fall in love with him even more. vernon is the type to just look you in the eyes and bluntly tell you that you're gorgeous just because it crossed his mind suddenly how pretty you are.

"why are you looking at me like that ? is there something wrong with my makeup ?" - "you're so pretty, i don't understand how it's possible."

if sometimes vernon just wants to stay quiet and not say a word, there are other times where the two of you end up talking for hours, jumping from subject to subject because one of you always has something to tell, something to debate about. when you are talking together, it's like you're inside of a little bubble where only you and vernon exist and you love it. that leads to the both of you having so many inside jokes that nobody gets - you're laughing like maniacs when everyone else around you is just confused and doesn't understand anything. honestly, sometimes your couple looks a little awkward from the outside, but it all fits perfectly and the way you're just so right for him is something vernon still has trouble understanding. sometimes, when he thinks that he doesn't deserve you, that he thinks he doesn't do enough to make you happy, you need to remind him that he's been perfect from the start. you can count the times you saw vernon crying with your fingers, but he knows that every time he's down, he can just let go in your embrace and let himself be vulnerable.

"i feel so safe when you're here, i don't ever want you to leave."

BF!VERNON who's just going with the flow because as long as he's inside of you, it doesn't matter if he's in control or not.

he's much more talkative when it comes to sex because he just cannot shut up when you're doing so good for him. whether it's praises, just some random thoughts, babbling or degrading words, he needs to speak to you through it. when he wants to tease you, he whispers his dirty words directly in your ears, knowing how much it turns you on. when he's just so lost in how good you feel, he just says whatever is on his mind - mostly compliments and swear words. when he's in a more romantic mood, he's constantly praising you, telling you again and again that you're perfect and gorgeous. and vernon also likes it when you're talking to him too, loves to hear you say how good he's making you feel, that you're close or that you want more. generally, the noises you make are really appreciated, even going as far as stopping you from putting your hand over your mouth when you think you're too loud because vernon wants to hear it all.

"shit… you're taking me so well, baby, i don't think i'm going to last if you keep squeezing around my cock like that."

just like vernon loves doing new activities with you, he also loves to experiment in the bedroom. you want to test something ? he's down. you have an unusual fantasy that you want to try ? no problem. after all, there's no harm in doing something out of the ordinary - if you both like it, it's good, and if you don't in the end, then it's okay too, you just won't do it again. that's how he discovered some things he didn't think he would like but that slowly became his favorites, like hair pulling for example. you ask him to pull on your hair all the time when he's taking you from behind, and he loves to do it to punish you too, but he came to wonder how it would feel if you pulled on his instead. so he asked, you did it, and he never wanted you to stop. no matter if he's eating you out or fucking you, vernon wants your fingers tugging on his strands hard enough to make it hurt a little. sometimes, you're pulling at each other's hair, moaning together at the feeling.

"want me to pull on your cute ponytail ? then pull on my hair too, yeah ? fuck, just like that…"

as stated before, he loves to watch you do almost anything, but he loves to watch you get off even more. when you're fucking, he cannot detach his eyes from your glistening folds, from his cock thrusting inside of you or from your face contorting in pleasure. so sometimes, he just leans back and asks you to touch yourself for him. he knows you're frustrated because he's just one feet away and he won't touch you, but he can't help it, he loves to see you masturbate. the fact that you whine about how your fingers cannot reach as deep as his, and that it's not fair gets him so hard. if vernon is in a teasing mood, he will even jerk off in front of you, just to make it "even". the feeling of cumming together, eyes in eyes, while you're both touching yourselves is unmatched for him. also a lot of phone sex is involved, whenever he's away, he calls you at night and asks you to facetime him and show him your cunt, to touch yourself in front of the camera for him. sometimes, he's jerking off too, but sometimes he only watches you reach your orgasm while biting his lips.

"show me your pretty cunt, baby. you're needy ? then put one finger in for me."

#eli answering your questions #eli's anonie #seventeen x reader #seventeen #seventeen smut #seventeen hard hours #seventeen hard thoughts #vernon #vernon x reader #vernon smut #vernon hard hours #vernon hard thoughts #chwe hansol #hansol x reader #hansol smut #hansol hard hours #hansol hard thoughts

296 notes · View notes

greensagephase · 5 months

Text

A Romantic Concert Night

Pairings: Miguel O'Hara x Female!Reader Summary: A romantic concert night with Miguel, your boyfriend. Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: a lot of Spanish spoken (translations provided); reader understands and speaks Spanish; pre-established relationship; artist/group is Latino; romantic and soft Miguel; intimacy between Miguel and reader; mention of love making but no actual smut; a little of protective Miguel health wise, more like caring; Miguel doesn't care about dropping money for you, mans just want to spoil you; mention of future marriage; hand kissing, hand holding; Miguel just being a romantic boyfriend A/N: Inspired by the song “Quédate Bebé” by Grupo Frontera and me going to one of their concerts last year. If anyone reading this recognizes Grupo Frontera, then you know all their songs are about love and heartbreak, so that's the vibe for the concert (I’m a hopeless romantic and so is Miguel). So just enjoy a cute, sweet, and romantic Miguel! Masterlist

Miguel and you have been fans of this music group for months now. You know all their songs and lyrics. Their music is always part of your car rides, in which you’re usually Miguel’s passenger princess, and more often than not, the two of you end up singing while he drives.

Knowing this, Miguel immediately buys tickets as soon as the group/artist announces a tour. He surprises you with them, looking forward to spending a lovely evening at your side because that’s something Miguel loves, spending time with you, his beautiful girlfriend.

The day finally arrives after weeks of waiting for your tour date. Miguel and you dress up for the occasion. You honestly can’t stop looking at Miguel because he looks fine as hell, and his cologne - it does something to you. You can’t help but smell him a few times before you even leave your shared apartment because he smells so good. Eventually you head out of your apartment and head to the elevators. The plan is to drive to the venue, so you need to go down to the building’s car garage. However, just as the elevator’s doors open, Miguel tells you that he forgot something.

“Wait for me here, okay? I’ll be right back,” Miguel says giving your hand a squeeze before he hurries to retrieve whatever he forgot. You can’t help but wonder what it is since it appeared that both of you had everything already. You shrug it off and wait for him for a few minutes before he returns with a small smile.

“Let’s go, mi vida [my life].”

Miguel drives to the concert, his fingers interlaced with yours at some points during the drive. Other times, he lays his hand on your thigh, his warmth comfortably sinking into your skin. And of course, you play some of the artist’s/group’s music just to prepare yourselves during the drive.

Upon arriving to the venue, Miguel takes care of everything. He handles the ticket situation and holding hands, he asks if he can buy you anything as he glances at the food concessions.

“Do you want something to drink, mi vida [my life]? Maybe we can buy some water bottles, just in case we get thirsty? Or maybe a snack?” he offers, leading you towards the concessions to take a look.

He ends up buying some drinks and snacks for the two of you before he leads you to your seats since the venue is accommodated for seating and the concert is a smaller one with only about two thousand seats.

A few minutes after settling down and getting your things together while you wait for the concert to start, you pull out your phone and lean into him.

“Picture?” you ask softly.

“For the memory,” Miguel replies with a smile, nodding.

He throws an arm around you and pulls you closer for the picture, but he doesn’t even look at the camera the first time. Instead of facing it, Miguel is looking straight at you with that beautiful and endearing smile of his that only you can inspire in him.

You end up taking a few more in which he actually faces the camera after you playfully remind him to look forward but even then, Miguel still finds himself looking at you even after you’re done taking pictures. He just loves you so much he can’t stop himself and of course, you look so beautiful in the outfit you planned out for weeks after he initially surprised you with the concert tickets. You’re simply a sight Miguel can never tire of.

When he does look away, however, something catches his attention. There are a few staff members walking around selling lit up objects that are typically sold during concerts like bracelets and the sort, and one of those things are roses.

Without a second thought, Miguel stands up, suddenly towering over you. He beckons one of the sellers even when you tell him not to spend his money on that. He carries on with his plan and buys you one anyway.

Other people sitting nearby simply watch with little smiles as they see the interaction because love.

Miguel sits back down and with the sweetest smile, hands you the rose. “Una rosa que no se marchitará- como mi amor por ti [a rose that won’t wither - like my love for you].”

You don’t even have it in yourself to say anything negative or even scold him about spending his money on this because the look on Miguel’s face is just too endearing and cute. You happily take the rose and discreetly give him a kiss on the cheek, thanking him for the sweet gift.

“Mi dulce novio [my sweet boyfriend],” you whisper.

“Todo para mi reyna [everything for my queen],” he replies, pecking your cheek right back, his hand finding yours because he loves hand holding.

As the concert almost starts, Miguel, being a planner and always looking for your well being, pulls out some ear plugs because he doesn’t want ear damage for either of you.

“Oh, is this what you were forgetting?” you ask Miguel as he gently slides one of the ear plugs into your ear.

He grins, a gentle hue of pink growing on his cheeks. “Yep, this was it… We have to look out for our hearing, especially since we’re so close to the stage,” Miguel says, since he didn’t mind dropping more money for seats close to the stage. He slides the other ear plug in. “There. We should still be able to enjoy the concert perfectly, and maybe earn ourselves a little headache and hearing damage.”

“Always thinking ahead, aren’t you?” you ask as you take the other set of ear plugs and help him put his on.

“What can I say?” he replies, smiling. “Just looking out for us, mi vida [my life].”

Once the concert starts, Miguel and you stand the whole time. There’s not a second either of you sit down because you’re enjoying the concert so much. Like much of the crowd, Miguel and you sing the songs and even dance a bit, at least as much as it’s allowed in the space since the concert sold out.

At points, Miguel wraps his arm around your waist, holding you close and looking at you with that smile that makes you melt.

Looking at him, you can tell Miguel is loving the concert, and he is. He’s enjoying every second of the concert partly because of the music and having the opportunity to see one of his favorite artists/groups perform live but primarily, it’s because of you. Being here with you, his sweet and beautiful girlfriend, is what’s making the night memorable for Miguel.

As the concert continues, Miguel keeps stealing glances at you, his heart racing at the sight of your happy singing and sweet smile.

“¿Donde están las solteras [where are the single ladies]?” one of the group members asks halfway during the concert to get the crowd riled up.

Just to see Miguel’s reaction, you jokingly raise your hand, only for Miguel to grab your wrist and lower your hand gently. He looks down at you with a feigned grumpy look, knowing you’re just messing with him before he leans into you, his mouth close to your ear so you’ll hear him.

“No les des esperanza a los muchachos. No estas soltera. Eres mia y yo soy tuyo [Don’t give the guys hope. You’re not single. You’re mine and I’m yours],” he says, lightheartedly. His voice is sweet and tender because he knows you’re just playing around, but he still loves to say it.

You’re his and he’s yours.

You smile up at him. “Siempre [Always].”

The rest of the concert flies by and before either of you know it, it’s over. After so much singing and a bit of dancing, the two of you are starving, so you go and eat at a nearby place. During dinner, you poke fun at each other for your raspy voices from all the singing, especially when your voices go out in mid-sentence.

With satisfied appetites and new energy, Miguel and you begin the drive home, thinking the night has come to an end.

Except, you get home and upon entering your shared bedroom to unwind for the night, you find rose petals scattered on the floor in a neat path leading straight to the bed where more rose petals forming a big heart decorate your duvet. The path of rose petals is lit up by small, warm lights creating the perfect romantic ambiance. You suddenly remember earlier when Miguel claimed to have forgotten something and told you to wait by the elevator. Now you see what he had been up to.

Just as you’re about to turn around, you feel his arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“Sorpresa [Surprise],” he whispers in your ear.

You chuckle and lean back into him, resting your hands over his arms and just melting into his embrace.

“You tricked me,” you tell him, smiling as your gaze lingers on the bed.

“Just a little. I’m glad you didn’t think much of it when I pretended to have forgotten something,” he says with a soft chuckle near your ear that immediately sends a heat to your core. “We don’t have to - you know - do anything if you’re tired,” he says, nipping at your earlobe. “I just wanted to do a little something because well,” he pauses and turns you around so you’re facing him. Miguel leans down, pressing his forehead against yours. The most beautiful set of brown eyes stare into yours. “Te amo [I love you],” Miguel whispers lovingly before he kisses you tenderly, his arms still wrapped around your body, pressing you against his warmth. You kiss for a few seconds, locked in each other’s embrace before you pull back gently, a little breathless.

“Te amo [I love you],” you whisper back to him, reciprocating those two words that make Miguel’s heart swell with happiness and love.

He pulls you closer, somehow, and kisses you again. His hand finds its way to the back of your neck to keep your head close and steady, not wanting to part from you any time soon, even if just to breath.

With each passing second, Miguel’s statement about not having to do anything is thrown out the window. The gentle kiss slowly turns into something else - something desperate and hungry that leads to Miguel laying over you and countless murmured “I love you’s” into each other’s lips as he makes sweet love with you, his body worshiping yours.

A while later after your passionate love making and tender after care from Miguel, you rest your head on his chest. Your bodies are tangled up, fitting into each other’s perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle. With an arm wrapped around you, his free hand tenderly traces your arm, feeling the softness of your skin.

“May I ask something from you?” he asks softly.

“Anything.”

Miguel smiles and lifts your face so he can look you in the eyes. “A donde vayas, llévame. Te prometo que no molestaré [Wherever you go, take me. I promise I won’t bother you].”

“Miguel,” you say gently, smiling.

“Por favor [Please],” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “No matter what, ups and downs, I wish to be with you because I don’t know what I’d do without you. Una vida sin ti no tiene sentido. Es como morir sin haber vivido… So I ask, quédate para siempre [A life without you has no sense. It’s like dying without having lived. So I ask, stay forever.]”

Smiling, you kiss his forehead, cheeks, nose, chin, and at last, his lips tenderly.

“I have every intention of staying with you. Forever,” you whisper against his lips.

Miguel’s hand slides from your arm to your back. His fingers trace your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“Thank you,” he whispers against your own lips. He caresses your face with his free hand. “I have every intention of making you happy and feel loved. I also intend on… One day, putting a ring on this hand,” he says taking your left hand and kissing the back of it.

“Oh, really?” you ask smiling.

“Claro que si [Of course],” Miguel says with a teasing smile, thinking. “Tengo mil planes, propuestas para amar, tú y yo en la soledad [I have a thousand plans, proposals to love, you and me in solitude].”

You chuckle softly, recognizing the words from one of Miguel’s favorite songs.

“Te escribí un poema para enamorarte [I wrote you a poem to make you fall in love],” you say the next lines.

“Solo quiero amarte [I just want to love you],” the two of you say, smiling.

Miguel nuzzles your face before pressing another kiss to your lips, knowing that he could spend the rest of his life like this and never ask for anything else. As you rest your head on his chest again, Miguel is filled with happiness and gratitude for the beautiful romantic evening you’ve shared together.

“We should go to more concerts,” he murmurs, his hands tracing your back again. “So I can plan more evenings like these.”

“You already do,” you say, looking up at him with an afterglow from the intimacy you’ve both engaged in, a sight that always makes Miguel feel privileged as he’s the only one that gets to see you like this. “You always plan the loveliest dates.”

“But I’d have more opportunities, mi reyna [my queen]. More excuses to spoil you, and you know I love spoiling you,” he whispers, cupping your face. “I want to give you everything.”

“I just want you.”

“You’ll always have me,” he replies, his thumb tracing your chin with a smile. “And I’ll try to give you what you need and deserve. Plus, if we can end the night like this more often - no complaints.”

Chuckling, you playfully roll your eyes. “We can have these nights without everything else.”

“¿Si [yes]?” Miguel says with a soft smirk, knowing the answer.

You nod. “Yes, no question about that. You know that.”

“Hm, I know but still… I like to build the mood.”

You laugh softly and kiss his hand. “Fine. We’ll go to more concerts. You’re already so romantic, but I did notice you were extra romantic tonight. I love that,” you tell him.

“It’s a plan then,” Miguel replies pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you in tight, whispering sweet words for your ears only before he pauses. “Ay, caray [oh, damn],” he says.

“What?”

“I forgot I have a bottle of champagne and chocolate covered strawberries for us in the fridge.”

You laugh softly and look up at him again, amused at the sight of Miguel’s sheepish smile as he gazes down at you.

“It’s your fault,” he says, poking your cheek gently. “You distracted me with all the kisses. I forgot all about the champagne and strawberries.”

“So, now it’s my fault?” you ask.

“Yes, why do you have to be so beautiful and give the best kisses in the world, hm?” he asks, cupping your face again. He kisses you on the lips for a few seconds. “Stay here, I’ll go get everything.”

And with that, you stay in bed tangled up in bed sheets as your sweet boyfriend steps out of the bedroom to retrieve the last little surprise of the night, only wearing black boxers and fresh scratch marks on his back.

I just want to go to a concert with Miguel, hold his hand and kiss him fr! Thank you for reading!!! Also, for anyone interesting in listening to the song, here's a preview!

-Alondra

508 notes · View notes

jolapeno · 2 months

Text

there's nothing blue about you

javier peña x f!reader | masterlist

summary: javier peña's dreams are haunted by shades of blue, blending his fears into nightmarish landscapes. only his lover's touch anchors him, transforming his dreams into hues of something else.

warnings: 18+ smut, p in v. overuse of the colour blue, like by a lot. this whole this is an angsty bitch, with hopeful/hea. leans close to gothic horror in some ways but not quite, honestly? unsure how to describe what in the hell I've written. third-person reader (she/her). no descriptions, no y/n. an: written for @studioghibelli's fic challenge. (the moodboard is at the end of the fic). i think i leaned very much into painting and blue, and I'm not sure if that at all was what was asked of me. thanks: i'd have likely scrapped this if not for @goodwithcheese who took my weird-poetic-ness and called it lyrical and somehow it made it worth how long I've agonised over this. i hope she knows i love her, and if not, i hope this very public declaration confirms it. shoutout @pedgito who urged me to do this. wc: 2.7k

Javier Peña dreams in blue.

Thick strokes of azure, cerulean, and navy smear the world, forcing it to twist around him. Smearing the world, forcing it to twist around him. Knocking it all on its axis—allowing the horrors to blend into fairytales and happiness to shift into nightmares.

Shifting, changing. His worst fears come alive with brushwork, forcing scenarios to swallow hopeful desires.

Each blot spreads out like tendrils, drawing their tales in wide, brisk strokes, in shades of melancholy and yellow. The latter is a beacon—a spark of hope in a sea of nothing; a beam that guides him back to reality. To being awake, where his heart squeezes tight. Eyes open, struggling for breath before the sun has even risen. Sometimes, even before the stars have stopped sparkling and glittering. Sweat beads at his temple, palm to his chest—gasping, struggling to breathe as he drags his hand down his face, swiping the hair above his lip.

Then, anxiousness embroils. That same hand patting, sliding, eyes blinking furiously as he banishes shadows and forces them to shift back to non-threatening inanimate objects.

He’s able to breathe when he feels her. Alive, asleep.

Blissfully unaware of his nightly torture as her chest rises and falls—soft breaths mingling with ragged ones. Curling close, inhaling her scent, listening to the steady way her heart forces blood around her veins.

Hoping, praying, that when he closes his eyes he dreams of nothing, but knows they’ll be worse now. They always are when he wakes and reaches for her. As though by touching her, they spill to her, ruining her too. Wrap their fingers around her, change her skin to deep shades of blue in his hands as he falls through landscapes and lands in hell.

Then she sobs, pleads; tight little balled-up fists hammering at his chest as she shakes everything in him until she rips like paper, leaving him alone, just like he envisions he should be.

But then, he’d choose those over the ones where his hands are stained in her crimson, blotched, unable to be washed, little beads on his clothes and then a rainfall. Her split in his hand, eyes fading from light to dark. Those haunt him for longer when he wakes and he sits opposite her over breakfast and tries to force a smile.

Sometimes, he worries that his dreams have become the thing she adores. Reminding him of the poster she’s framed in her place—the one with swirls of a night sky.

She stares at it often, loses herself in it—escapes. Javi envies her for it. For being able to lock away the things that plague her, evading them, not to be tormented by them in fields that shift and flutter around him. He thinks it’s because she carves out the parts that make bags appear under her eyes through painting. Inspired, thriving, transforming wicked things into light, taking something that weighs her to something that makes her smile. Each drag of her paintbrush was like a spell, like magic.

“It helps.”

“How so?” he replied, leaning against the wall, arms folded, admiring.

Shrugging, wiping her forehead with the back of her hand before dabbing the brush into the murky water. “Just does.”

He wishes she’d run the brush over him. Run the synthetic filaments over every part of his skin.

But then, if he was asked, Javi would choose not to have the dreams at all. Would rather not be lost in a labyrinth of blues, where a lantern flickers and tries to guide. Instead, they cast ochre-shaded shadows that appear like shape-shifting failures. Each of them dancing, whispering secrets, finding all he can do is follow. Trust in it, hopeful it takes him to her, like his real life.

An accidental meeting, a connection that soothed his bones. One that had him smiling when he sat back in his truck, had him thinking when the darkness smothered the backyard and had him wishing for second meetings.

But, unlike his reality, the path is never straight, always winding, always shifting.

Sometimes, he sees her in the distance, her figure bathed in moonlight, a silhouette against the swirling sky. Sheet falling, curves and all on show. He reaches out, only for her to fade, dissolving into the night, leaving him grasping at the air like he’s chasing a ghost. A thing conjured, never real.

But, she’s real now.

His arm is behind his head when he hears the faint groan as she stretches before a palm slides over the soft curve of his stomach. Her breath fans over his lips, a whispered morning before they press to his. Smooth, velvety, gentle—addled with sleep, yet dripping in need. His name is punctuation in the sentence when she says, want you.

He never squanders the chance to remind himself of actuality. Moving her until she’s on her back, until she’s as bare as she is in his dreams—nothing blue, nothing midnight, cobalt or sapphire. Feeling her, taking the time to as he kneads her breast and grazes his teeth over the bud that hardens against his tongue as her nails scrape red along the olive of his skin.

There’s no making up the way she feels between her thighs, warm, slick, and inviting—or the gasp she emits when he curls two fingers inside of her and her back arches at the intrusion.

A blessing. That’s how he’d describe her when he’d been caught smiling, wearing smitten like an accessory. Questioning on the second date if she could be the sun to his night. Bright, luminous, radiant. The type he’d somehow expect to find shopping in town in a movie, but not in Laredo.

Too perfect—

Made only more so when she’d slid her underwear into his pocket on their third date. Before the mains, after the starters. Too much of the meal to go before he could make an excuse that’d allow him to hear if she moaned as pretty as he had thought.

It’s too pretty the noises she makes. Another thing he yearns for. She emits them in varying shades, but they’re always cried with his name—whether he fucks her rough or gentle, whether he takes his time or bends her over the couch decorated in plush cushions and creased blankets.

She welcomes it, when he hikes her dress up or when he pushes her panties to the side; when his mouth is pressed to her spine or when it’s crashing to her lips. Use me, she says, suave, sultry—each letter wrapped in intoxication as she leaves dye only he can see on his skin and he leaves bruises that he’ll look to replace in a few days.

He remembers when she painted him.

When she made him beautiful on white canvas—saw him, immortalised him with finger marks and paint strokes.

Do you like it?

He answered only by sliding down onto his knees, by pulling the shorts she paints in down her glorious thighs and answering yes against her pussy. His tongue explained it better than words could. His fingers had dug into the flesh of her rear as his nose bordered her swollen clit, her thigh rested on his shoulder and her palms pressed into her workbench, leaning back, for leverage as he fucked her with his tongue, as he drank up every drop she’d give him—as though it healed him, fixed him.

When he can, Javi likes bending her over around her paints—taking her. Likes that sometimes an open can or a left-out brush stains him in a way he can see. Rich oranges and deep greens. He enjoys spreading her out on her workbench as he makes her whine his name which makes all other ways his name is spoken seem obsolete. That there’s more than her sweat on his skin, her scent digging into his bones—evidence, proof of existence.

He has all the evidence now as he slowly slides his cock inside of her. As he swallows her whine, her moan—a gasp tinged with thankfulness. Feeling her stretch around him, take him in one smooth movement as allows himself to glance down and see where they meet. Then, he drags his eyes up, and sees how she smiles, how her fingers are reaching for him, grabbing for him. Needing, desperate, wanting.

But not just for his body, for what lived inside of his jeans. But for him.

Not just the daytime, but the blue version that drapes over him when things get too quiet and his mind gets too loud. No question asked, but an offering of comfort. Like when she had slid across his lap, when she pulled his head to her chest, brushed fingers into his hair. And he wonders like he did then and only ever to himself, how cruel it is that he cannot be something more for her. How unfair it feels for such sunshine to be surrounded by a storm.

He had smiled, though. Half-assed and minimal. Pulled her closer, so she sat more comfortably across his thighs. The grin barely reached his cheeks, never mind his eyes. “How strange, to dream of you even when I am wide awake.”

Her snort loud had punched the air. “Poet now, are we?”

“For you, I’ll be anything.”

More words had surrounded it, not spoken, but there. I’ll do anything, be anything. I’ll try, I’ll—

Unsure how else he could keep such a thing, unsure how he can keep perfection curled up against him, who’ll remind him his demons are only self-inflicted.

“Maybe just be you. You, are plenty enough.”

He had sneered, chin dipped, shame blooming.

“Hey,” she says urgently, fingers hooking under his chin as she drags his eyes to hers. “You are, Javi. And I’ll be reminding you of that until I have no words left in my mouth.”

“Be a while then, with how much you talk.”

Even as she pinched him, he pressed how he didn’t deserve her against her lips, against her cheek, neck and collarbone. Not that she took them. Ripped them instead, shredded them.

“You don’t have to pretend with me.” Her fingers then glided across the back of his neck, head rested against his. “Because, you know, Javi, there’s nowhere or no one else I’d rather be sat on…”

A beat passed, one he waited for, fingers brushing over her skin. “…crushing.”

He laughed then.

Because she always pulls laughs from him like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like he’s a soul full of joy, happy. Like he wasn’t a man who had spent a decade around destruction, misery and streets filled with scarlet, weighed down by it.

She makes it lighter. In the same way, she calms him at night and he thanks her for it in the morning.

Like he’s doing now. Licking his thumb before he presses it to her clit, swirling, forcing her pussy to draw around him, to hold his cock as tightly as he needs, sucking him in, gasping for more as her breasts bob with each thrust, and her mouth falls open in a silent moan—

“Close, m’close, Javi. Fuck, baby—”

He presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck, feeling her attempt at vocalisation. Letting it vibrate against his lips, tingle. Proof that he’s awake, that this is real, that in any moment things won’t turn—

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he groans, pressing kisses, dotting them in a pattern like stars in the sky. “Feel so good around me...”

She whines. A noise he banks in his mind, a jar full now—one that sparkles and shimmers.

“You feel good too.”

“Yeah?”

Nodding, hands sliding around his neck, digging into the hair at the base of his neck. “Always make me feel good,” she slurs.

Javi hooks her leg over his waist. A new angle, one that drives him deeper, as she clenches and he snaps his hips to hers. Feeling her close to snapping, her thighs already shaking, trembling. His chest heaving, her ribs expanding, copious breaths to still the dizziness she inflicts on him—just by being, just by existing.

It’s building, that fire in his veins, the fever that spreads out of him when he releases inside of her and she tugs him close as she comes down from her high. His hips stuttering, his name a symphony that erodes all other noises from his dreams.

And, there’s nothing blue about this. Nothing despairing, melancholy about this, about her.

Not when she flutters and arches when she comes and uncoils. Her fingers dig into whatever part of him she can get to before he smears himself inside of her, groaning into her neck as he spills and thinks of nothing but how much he adores her.

How much he loves her. Because he does. He loves her, he loves her, he loves her.

“I love you too,” she whispers from underneath him, his head pulling from her neck—elbows on either side of her face.

Finding seriousness staring back, her fingers skating over the sweat sliding down his forehead, wiping it on the sheets she lies on.

“Unless you hadn’t meant to say it. Then I take it back.”

He blinks. Thinking of the summer’s day when he’d first seen her; the first rainfall two months later when his arms had wrapped over her front, pressed her back to his chest and they felt the cooling air slide over their warm skin. He remembers the night he’d told her everything, and the new candles that had become stumps as she listened; the stormy afternoon turned night when he’d taken her out of town, and how her hand had slid over his and thanked him.

“I meant it.”

Her lips slide into her cheek, palm pressing to his chest. “Good.”

He wonders over morning coffee, when she glances at him and smiles if his dreams are merely a reflection of his fears—rather than anything that could come true. A manifestation of his fears of losing her, fearing the day when the blues will no longer be just dreams. Because good things don’t always, least of all to those who don’t deserve it.

He blinks them away when she tells him she has something to show him, hearing her bare feet on the floor until he doesn’t, counting, reaching twenty, before she appears, a new canvas in hand.

And when she turns it, letting it face him, his breath is stolen—feet forcing him to stand.

Her hand held it, the brightest shades that could ever be. Mixed brushstrokes into something that heals a crack in him, one that he’s never asked for. Because in every shade but blue is him and Pop outside the ranch, a place that had never felt like home, but now feels like the only place he could ever call such.

“Where are you?”

She blinks, the slightest frown in her brows. “What… what do you mean?”

“You belong there too, cariño.”

And if she hadn’t believed him in bed, in the things he’s not said, he thinks she believes them now. Leaning the canvas against the counter, feet padding towards him before her mouth is on his—different, more necessary, as his arms slip around her waist.

Something else slid back into place, able to fill his lungs a little easier.

Not a shade of blue in sight, not indigo, powder or sky.

And he worries it’s temporary—a thing that’ll change come nighttime. But he smiles all the same, right against her hairline when he presses a kiss there too. Feeling her hand sliding around his waist, becoming an anchor, a rock, a crutch.

He loves that about her too, that she does that for him. But he’ll tell her that tomorrow.

A silent promise, one beginning to stitch with a smile. And, then, when nightfall comes, and the painting rests against the wall of his room, Javier Peña finds—for the first night since he’s been back—that he doesn’t dream in blue.

Instead, he dreams in yellow. In honey, citrus and sunshine.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña smut #pedro pascal character #javi peña #javier peña #javi peña x reader #javi peña x you #javi peña smut #narcos fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfic

320 notes · View notes

de4dlyniightshade · 7 months

Text

꩜ BEHIND CLOSED DOORS!

꩜ PAIRING: sub!spencer reid x dom!afab!reader

꩜ RATING: 18+, mdni

꩜ WORD COUNT: 5.4k

꩜ WARNINGS/CONTAINS!: smut, d/s dynamics, "sweet pea" used SO MANY times, established relationship, inexperienced!spencer, first time pegging, tiny corruption kink, anal fingering(m receiving), mommy kink, aftercare, dacryphilia, overstimulation, slight edging, lots of praise, pet names(baby boy, sweet boy, baby etc), spencer going nonverbal lowkey, subspace

꩜ LYRIC: "Everybody's saying you're no good for me. But they don't see the dirty stuff you do to me"

[WARNING!] - explicit sexual content! mdni!

꩜ A/N: this is like the first thing i'm actually nervous to post bcs i've been teasing this for so long and i'm scared it won't live up to expectations 0-0

Spencer was many things, subtle was not one of them. especially when he had something on his mind, like now. He was standing awkwardly in the doorway of your shared bedroom, shifting around on his feet as if to try and get your attention with a little tap show but you kept your focus on your book as you lay splayed out in the middle of the bed, legs crossed, wearing only plaid pyjama pants and a tank top.

you fought the smirk that twitched at the corners of your lips as you saw Spencer get more and more ansty in your peripheral vision, his hands clasped in front of him stiffly as he swayed in place and you couldn't help but let your curiosity get the better of you.

"you gonna tell me what you want or just stand there and watch me, baby?" your tone was flat and you didn't even look up from your page as you spoke. You weren't doing it to be dismissive or rude, you just knew that your uninterested demeanour would get Spencer even more riled up, which it did, the sudden sound of your voice making his throat dry up and the words leave his mind.

Spencer didn't really know how to breach the subject, he knew what he wanted very well and he knew what to say but it was how, how was he supposed to tell you with a straight face that he found your strap on and wanted you to use it on him? he trusted you of course, with his life, but he was still so new to a lot of things relationship wise and still struggled with properly communicating his needs and wants, which was okay, you were nothing but patient with him and honestly it was endearing the way he stuttered and stumbled over his words when it came to anything lewd.

"I-I um- I don't- I don't know how to..." spencer's words died in his throat as he dropped his gaze to the floor, a pink blush spreading over his cheeks. your curiosity truly piqued, he was always nervous and shy but this was entirely different, he looked like he was about to sprint away from you and hide forever at a seconds notice.

"Say it?" you finished his sentence, Spencer briefly meeting your eyes before he nodded shyly, hands still clasped at his crotch, his glasses low on his nose from the way he'd had his head lowered.

"C'mere, sweet pea, sit," you finally slid the bookmark into your book, motioning spencer to sit at the edge of the bed before you set it down on your nightstand, sitting up properly to give him your full attention as he sheepishly lowered himself to sit at the bottom of the bed, your eyes on him honestly didn't help his case any, the way they bore into him making him feel so small.

"Now, use your words, what is it that you want?" your tone wasn't demanding or domineering, more encouraging, the way you enunciated each word reminding spencer how he can trust you with anything, no matter how bizarre, minimal or trivial, you'd always made sure he knew that your relationship was a safe space for anything he had to say.

"I uhm- I-I want- mmph" spencer cut himself off with a whine, averting his eyes from yours and focusing on his lap, letting out a shaky breath. "aw baby boy" you cooed, scooting down the bed to him and placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder blade.

"You can tell me baby, remember? no judgement." you spoke softly as you gently stroked your hand over his back, helping soothe his nerves.

"O-Okay I- I want you to...uhm...f-fuck me" spencer's voice was barely above a whisper, stumbling over his words as he blushed a dark pink and completely avoided looking at you, almost as if you weren't even there.

Your eyebrows furrowed at his words, it wasn't like what he said was hard to understand it's just that you fucked him all the time so what was so terrifying about asking you this time? it wasn't his first time outright asking you to fuck him, which he did always get bashful about but not like this.

"I don't think I follow, I fuck you all the time baby, what's so scary about this time?" Your voice was filled with genuine confusion as you spoke, your words making Spencer whine. I mean what did he expect, you weren't a mind reader, of course you weren't going to immediately know what he meant.

"N-Not like that..." he reiterated, trying to sway you to the answer on your own so he wouldn't have to say it, so he wouldn't have to admit that he'd done nothing but picture you fucking him senseless with a silicone cock for days on end.

"You want me to fuck you differently? you want me to be less rough? more rough?" you suddenly felt a guilt in your stomach at the thought that you had been too rough with him and he hadn't told you at the time, just going along to please you, which is the last thing you wanted.

"N-No! not that- I just- I uhm- I found...something...in your drawer and I-" spencer's voice trailed off but as soon he motioned to said drawer it all clicked into place, he had found your strap on and wanted you to fuck him.

"Oh! goodness why didn't you just say that, baby? for a second I thought I'd been too rough with you," your voice was laced with genuine relief before you paused completely, his words actually reaching your brain and processing. He wanted you to peg him. Your sweet, innocent, submissive boyfriend wanted you to peg him, it was like a wet dream.

"I-I was...nervous" Spencer answered your question, still nervous but a lot less so now that the worst of it was over, or so he thought.

"Sweet boy, no need to be nervous about that, you could've just said you wanted mommy to fuck your pretty hole" your tone dropped as you spoke, tugging your lip between your teeth when you heard spencer let out a quiet gasp at your lewd words, unable to even muster up a reply.

"wanna tell mommy what you were snooping for?" you pressed, knowing that he probably wasn't snooping for anything in particular, in all honesty he was probably putting something away for you and just so happened to stumble upon the wrong, or right(depending on how you look at it)drawer.

"N-Nothing! it was an accident, mommy, I swear" Spencer spoke hurriedly, slightly panicked sounding at the accusation and you couldn't help but coo at him, feeling a rush of arousal through you at his state.

"Okay, okay, i believe you, baby," you raised your hands in surrender, Spencer looking slightly relieved that he wouldn't have to plead with you to believe him like the time he had a wet dream and you accused him of touching himself without permission, which was untrue, he was such a good boy and had never once intentionally broken any of your rules.

"So tell me, sweet pea, how long has this been playing on that magnificent mind of yours?" your tone was slightly teasing, mostly because you knew that it had been playing on his mind for at least a few days for him to bring it up, knowing all to well how he was never very forward with his desires.

You saw Spencer's eyes widen slightly before he let them trail around the room, letting a breath out from his nose, his eyes fluttering closed. "L-Like...uhm a week" you knew he was bullshitting you, he knew exactly how long he had been thinking about it, there was no such thing as "like a week" to spencer and he knew you didn't buy it with the way you lowered your head, brows quirking.

"...eleven days" he admitted bashfully, fidgeting with his hands as the tension grew thick in the room, the feeling of your eyes boring into him making him gulp and shift in his seat.

"Aww you poor thing, must've been so worked up about the whole thing hm?" you crooned, feigning a pout at him as he nodded, mirroring a pout back to you, paired with big doe eyes.

"Why don't you take your clothes off for me, baby boy" you breathed in his ear, resting your chin on his shoulder while stroking your hand over his waist, a quiet whine escaping his lips as you pulled away from him, purposely sauntering over to your drawers slowly.

Spencer swallowed thickly as he moved to start unbuttoning his shirt, his slender fingers moving quickly until he reached the last button, quickly pulling his shirt down his shoulders and tossing it on the floor before moving to undo his pants, his movements stopped by you retrieving the strap on and a bottle of lube from the drawer, the sight making spencer's thighs clench in anticipation.

You turned around to see Spencer gawking at the item in your hand with wide eyes, not even noticing you looking at him until you cleared your throat, "what did I tell you to do?" you reminded him, Spencer's hands fumbling as he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, "sorry, mommy" he murmured, averting your gaze once again.

You watched like a hawk as Spencer hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his pants and boxers, lifting himself enough to tug them down over his ass and down his legs, kicking them off to the side, leaving him in just his glasses and endearingly mismatched socks.

"Thats mommy's good boy, so pretty baby," you praised, watching spencer's leaking cock twitch at your words, the sight making you bite your lip as you made your way over to him, setting down the strap and lube before positioning yourself in front of him, lifting his chin with your finger to look at you.

"Sit back for me, baby" you ordered softly, Spencer immediately complying, shifting back to the middle of the bed and pressing his knees together nervously when he realised how exposed he was, which made you smile sweetly at him.

You slowly climbed onto the bed with him, placing your hands on his knees and urging his thighs apart, Spencer gulping as he let his legs go slack, exposing his painfully hard, leaking cock, the tip flushed red and swollen, you know he's aching to be touched, his sensitive cock having been neglected of any stimulation.

"So pretty baby" you murmured, smoothing your hands down his inner thighs, purposefully stopping just shy of where he needed you, a whimper falling from his lips when you pulled your hands away completely.

"Need to get you prepped, sweet pea, 's that okay?" you made sure to make it abundantly clear that he had an out if he changed his mind, which he already knew but it didn't hurt to remind him.

Spencer nodded shakily, eyes darting anywhere but your face. "words, my love" you raised your brow at him with a knowing expression, reminding him of the rules. "y-yes, mommy" he stuttered, a visible sheen of sweat on his forehead and a flush spreading down to his chest.

"Good boy" you breathed, leaning back to retrieve the lube and popping the cap open, squeezing out a generous amount onto your middle and index finger. "Wider, baby" you encouraged, nudging his knee with your elbow, Spencer immediately spreading his legs wider for you, blushing impossibly harder at the compromising position.

"Doing good baby, this is gonna be cold, okay?" you warned as you lowered your hand, Spencer nodding, his breathing slightly laboured as he watched your hand inch closer and closer to him until the cold sensation of the lube pressing to his entrance made him gasp, eyes squeezing shut as you smeared the slightly thick substance over him, your fingertips teasing his hole and making his cock twitch.

"Lay back for me, sweet pea" you spoke sweetly, placing your free hand on his stomach. urging him onto his back so you could scoot closer, your thighs positioned under his, unable to resist biting your lip at the difference in size, your larger, plush thighs looking almost double the size of his.

The sound of spencer whining pulled you from your train of thought, reminding you of what you were supposed to be doing. "Sorry, love, just look so cute," your compliment made Spencer turn his cheek to you, making a fruitless attempt at hiding the almost giddy expression on his face, which quickly contorted into an expression of surprise as you eased your middle finger into him, slow and steady as not to overwhelm him on his first time.

"M-Mommy!" he mewled, clenching around your finger as you pushed it in all the way. You remained unmoving, just getting him used to the intrusion. "Shh baby shh, relax for mommy, you've got to relax" you soothed, rubbing your free hand up and down his waist, the combination of your soft touch and the feeling of you inside him making his cock twitch, a sizeable puddle of cum on his pelvis from how needy he was, his tip almost constantly leaking.

Spencer took a heavy breath, shifting around slightly to get comfortable, your finger pushing deeper into him as he did and making him let out a sharp gasp, his hand flying to grip yours that rested on his waist. "That's it, baby, good boy," you praised softly as you slowly started thrusting your finger in and out of him, watching his facial expressions closely for any sign of discomfort.

"You okay, sweet pea?" you asked, making sure to check in on him as much as possible as your movements sped up, beginning to curl your finger into him in time with your thrusts, the sensation making Spencer lightheaded, unable to even muster up the words, instead just nodding eagerly, which you let slide for now.

"You think you can take another, baby?" You were confident that he could, by the way his muscles had relaxed, your digit sliding in and out of him with ease, but you still wanted to make sure he was comfortable and prepared for the intrusion.

Spencer nodded keenly, his breathing heavy as he laid back on your sheets, his hand in yours, and his head tipped back. "Words, baby boy, you need to hear it." In all honesty, you didn't really need him to say it, but selfishly, you wanted him to.

"Yes, m-more, mommy," he gasped as you continued to thrust your finger gently before pressing the tip of your index finger to his entrance, slowly pushing it in along with your middle finger, the extra stretch making Spencer buck his hips towards you, accidentally pushing your fingers in all the way, a loud moan falling from his lips involuntarily when your fingertips prodded his sweet spot, the sensation like nothing he'd ever felt before.

"Mommy! I-I-" Spencer couldn't even fathom what he was trying to say, but you understood, squeezing his waist reassuringly. "I know, baby, such a good boy for mommy; you want more?" You already knew the answer to your question, but the idea of having your innocent baby boy beg you to finger-fuck him made your head swim.

"P-Please mommy! n-need it," Spencer whimpered, rolling his hips towards you again, effectively fucking himself onto your fingers, and you couldn't help but moan quietly at the sight. "Seems like you're doing a pretty good job yourself, baby," you teased, making Spencer whine, slightly out of embarrassment that he was so desperate already but also because he wanted you to move.

"Okay, okay, sweet pea, stay still for me," you spoke softly before sliding your fingers out of him almost completely and thrusting them back in, hitting that perfect spot dead on, Spencer letting out a yelp of pleasure as his back arched and his thighs threatened to close, your free hand moving to pin his thigh down.

You watched in perverted fascination as Spencer's cock twitched with each thrust of your fingers, precum dribbling down his shaft and pooling at the base. "Feel good, baby?" you asked almost teasingly, already knowing the answer.

"Y-Yes! Feel s-so good, mommy! 'm gonna-" Spencer cut himself off with a loud whine, his back arching and thighs trembling as he clenched around your fingers, indicating that he was about to cum.

"No, you're not," you said flatly as you abruptly pulled your fingers out of him. Spencer immediately let out a pathetic cry as he raised his head to look at you with big, wet eyes. "P-Please! I was- I was good, m-mommy p-please, wanna c-cum, please!'' Spencer begged desperately, tears welling in his eyes as he watched you completely pull away from him, moving to stand at the foot of the bed.

"Be patient, sweet pea, mommy is gonna make you cum, don't worry," you said in a sultry tone, looking at him through hooded eyes as you slowly pulled your shirt over your head, exposing your breasts to him, and watching as his eyes fixed on them, his cock twitching in anticipation as you hooked your fingers into your waistband, tugging your pants and underwear down in one.

Spencer swallowed thickly as he watched you secure the strap around your legs and waist, making sure that it wasn't going anywhere before you looked up. Spencer didn't even notice, his eyes trained on the fake cock as he sat with his legs still spread, leaning back on his hands with his glasses crooked on his face.

"God, you're so fucking pretty, baby, y'know that?" You spoke breathlessly, moving to climb back onto the bed with him, smiling at the way he whined and turning his face away in an attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. Spencer was never good at accepting compliments, always blushing at the slightest praise and turning away from you, which only made you compliment him and praise him more, loving to see the effect you had on him.

"You still want this, baby?" you asked softly, situating yourself between his open legs and cupping his cheek to tilt his face to you, a gentle smile on your lips as he looked back at you with pleading eyes. "Yes," he almost whispered, averting his eyes from yours.

"Yes, what?" You reminded him, quirking a brow and smirking slightly as you moved to fetch the bottle of lube from where you'd left it. "Yes, please, mommy," he corrected himself, flushing all the way down to his chest as he watched you pour a copious amount of lube onto your strap, biting down on his lip to stop himself from moaning at the sight of you spreading it from tip to base.

Spencer watched you look around for a moment for something to wipe your hand on, brows furrowed until an expression of realisation crossed your face and you absentmindedly reached out to take his cock into your hand, stroking him a few times with your completely slick hand, the feeling making him gasp and whimper before you pulled your hand away, smiling sweetly, "so useful, baby," you teased, making Spencer pout dramatically, feigning annoyance at you practically using him as a washcloth.

"No fair," he huffed, brows pulled together, and bottom lip jutted out in some attempt to look mad, which only made you giggle at him, making him frown harder. "Stick to looking pretty; it's what you're good at," you snorted, placing your hand on his chest and pushing him back, Spencer complying immediately, entirely pliant to your touch.

"Relax for me, sweet pea; it might hurt a little bit, okay?" Your tone was smooth and soft as you spoke, moving your hand to hold his hip and stroking your thumb over his protruding bone, holding back from commenting on how skinny he is.

"Mhm, 'm ready, mommy," he said breathlessly, swallowing thickly as he watched you shift closer to him, pressing your thighs to the backs of his and taking the base of your strap into your hand, guiding it towards his waiting entrance until the tip was pressed to him. Spencer gasped quietly and nodded, knowing you were waiting for his go-ahead before slowly pushing the tip into him, your eyes fixed on his expressions.

"O-Oh m-mommy!" He mewled, his hands gripping the sheets at his sides, his eyes squeezed shut, and his brows furrowed as you gradually pushed further and further into him, the stretch making him pant and gasp.

"Doing so good, baby, so good for mommy," you praised reassuringly as you bottomed out inside him, the sight of his face contorted in discomfort making you worry. "Am I hurting you, sweet pea? We can stop if it's too painful." You reminded him that he didn't have to continue just to please you, but he didn't want to stop, shaking his head quickly as he breathed heavily.

"N-No! Just so- s-so full," he gasped, his voice high-pitched and whiny, his words making your stomach flip, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, forcing yourself not to brutally fuck him until he couldn't talk.

"Tell me when you're ready, baby," you soothed, Spencer nodding as you placed your hands on his inner thighs, squeezing lightly before running them slowly up to grip the backs of his knees and tugging him closer to you, the movement making your cock push impossibly deeper, a quiet cry spilling from his lips as his legs tensed, stretching out behind you.

"P-Please mommy! N-Need it," Spencer whimpered, rolling his hips towards you to show you what he needed. The sight of him fucking himself onto your strap made you clench around nothing before you adjusted yourself, placing your hands on his thighs and pulling back slowly, stilling for a moment before pushing back in.

You started off slow so as not to overwhelm him too much, setting a gentle and steady pace as you fucked him rhythmically, caressing his thighs as you did, whispering gentle praises to him to reassure and remind him that he was doing well.

"M-More, mommy, w-want more." Spencer suddenly whimpered, his voice just above a whisper, barely loud enough for you to hear him, but you definitely did, and you were in no position to deny him. How could you?

"So good, sweet pea, telling mommy what you want," you praised softly, knowing he struggled with voicing what he wanted, your heart swelling with pride as you squeezed the soft flesh of his thighs, your pace picking up and making him let out an abrupt moan, louder than the other sounds he'd made, his cheeks flushing once again at the sound of himself before he pressed his lips together to keep himself quiet.

"No, no, baby, let mommy hear you," you breathed, squeezing his thighs again as your gaze fixed on his face, watching as he let his jaw fall slack as you continued to fuck him at a steady pace, smiling to yourself as he let himself let go, moaning and whimpering wantonly.

"That's it, baby, so good," you praised softly as you stroked your hands up his thighs to his hips, taking a hold of them and pausing your thrusts, gently moving to be kneeling rather than leaning back on your heels. The adjustment made him let out a whine that turned into a harsh gasp as the new angle had you pushing deeper into him.

You wordlessly started thrusting again, the new angle catching Spencer off guard as the tip of your strap practically hammered into his sweet spot, his mind going completely blank as the sensation overwhelmed him like nothing he'd felt before, letting out the most lewd, sweet sounds you'd ever heard him make, a mixture of incoherent pleas, whimpers, and choked moans.

"Gonna cum, baby boy?" you asked, having a pretty big hunch that he was by the way his cock bounced against his stomach, his back arching upward.

Spencer couldn't even fathom a reply to you, not even in his head. He heard the words and understood them, but all he could do was nod quickly, gripping the sheets at his sides as his chest heaved.

You watched as tears streamed down his pink cheeks, needy sobs falling from his parted lips along with sharp gasps and words you couldn't make sense of, not even sure that he knew what he was trying to say.

"Mommy!" was the only word that he finally choked out that was comprehensible, his stomach tensing and back arching just that little bit more as he released all over himself, thick white spurts of cum coating his stomach and up to his chest as he trembled and squirmed under you.

"Oh, sweet thing, you made such a mess of yourself," you cooed as you took in his state while still thrusting into him, but at a slower and gentler pace, revelling in the little sounds he made with each one, something like a meek yelp as his body twitched.

"N-No! Please, please" he whined when you stilled completely and started to pull out of him, his desperate protest making you widen your eyes and halt your movements.

"Please what? Baby, what do you want?" You asked softly, a worried undertone to your voice in case you were hurting him somehow, watching his features contort into displeasure, his lip jutting out.

"More, w-want more, mommy," he whined, his voice high-pitched and breathy as he let his thighs close around you, practically locking you in as he lay limp under you, completely fucked out but begging for more.

"Anything for you, sweet boy," you smiled as you pushed back in the mere inch he allowed you to pull out, watching him fall into a completely blissed-out, submissive state as you fucked him deep and slow, drinking up every little sound he made.

You couldn't resist reaching out to wrap your hand around his neglected cock, beginning to stroke his length in time with your thrusts. The added stimulation making Spencer choke out a sob as he began to tremble again, evidently overstimulated, but he didn't show any signs of wanting you to stop, so you didn't.

"Doing so, so good, baby, doing so well, so proud of you," you praised, telling no word of a lie. For the first time, he was doing so well, better than most would, and it made your heart swell.

Spencer's sounds quickly grew in volume until he was once again whimpering and moaning wantonly, the overstimulation making him unable to hold back, his mind clouded with nothing but lust and how good your touch felt on his cock and how full he felt as you fucked him, the mixture of everything making his second orgasm approach quickly.

"G-gonna-" he choked out, the words dying in his throat, but it was enough for you to understand him, shifting your hand to focus more on his tip, tightening your hold just slightly as he gasped and writhed under you, tears covering over the previous tear stains on his cheeks as his thighs clamped around your waist.

Spencer went completely silent as his jaw dropped open and his eyes screwed shut as he came hard, spilling over your hand and his stomach again as his hips rutted into your fist, choking out the most delicious whimpers and sobs as his whole body began shaking and trembling.

You released your hold on his length once he started whimpering and pulling away from you, showing that he'd had enough without having to say it, so you just let your hand rest on his hip again, your thumbs stroking over them gently as he breathed heavily, clearly exhausted.

"Gonna pull out, baby, okay? Keep still for me," you said softly, warning him so your movements wouldn't startle him. You waited for him to give you a tired nod before you slowly started pulling out of him, making sure to be extra careful not to hurt him.

Spencer winced slightly, but ultimately your strap slipped out of him easily, and he finally sank completely into the sheets, eyes closed and body limp. You gently got up from the bed, undoing the strap before pulling your pants and underwear back on, followed by your shirt.

You quietly left the room to fetch a washcloth from the bathroom, wetting it with warm water and leaving your strap by the sink to clean later before making your way back to your shared bedroom, smiling at the sight of Spencer splayed out on your bed, completely fucked out.

"Mommy's gonna clean you up, okay?" You practically whispered, feeling like if you were too loud it might startle him. Spencer simply nodded in response as you climbed back onto the bed with him and situated yourself between his still-spread thighs, gently and softly cleaning the drying cum from his stomach and chest, being extra careful when cleaning his now soft length, and apologising quietly when he winced slightly.

"All done, no more, sweet pea," you reassured him as you threw the washcloth in the general direction of the laundry basket.

"You want mommy to get you something to wear? some water?" You asked, worried he might be a little cold laying there completely bare, save for those cute mismatched socks, of course.

"Yes, please, both," he rasped, his voice spent from all that noise he was making, and you couldn't help but feel bad even if it wasn't your fault.

"Okay, baby," you smiled before getting up from the bed to make your way to the kitchen for a glass of water, picking a decently large one just to be sure, and quickly making your way back, using your free hand to fetch a very similar pair of pyjama pants to what you were wearing.

You set the glass down on the bedside table before turning to him. "Can you sit up for me, sweet pea?" you asked softly, Spencer's eyes fluttering open before he nodded, shifting his weight onto his hands as he sat up, groggily swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

"Good boy, now lift your feet for me," you encouraged Spencer, following your every instruction as you slid the soft material over his legs, lifting himself just enough so you could pull them over his probably tender ass.

"That's it; now sip this for me; don't drink too fast, okay?" You instructed softly, handing the glass to him but making sure to keep a good hold of it until you were sure he wouldn't drop it, his hand shaking slightly as he brought it to his lips, taking small mouthfuls like you'd told him to.

Spencer shakily handed the glass back to you when he was finished, looking up at you with heavy eyes as you placed it back down, a pout forming on his lips as he looked at you.

"What is it, baby?" You cooed, shifting closer to him to rest your hand on his head, stroking his hair softly as he whined, wordlessly reaching out for you, his arms wrapping around your hips and pulling you into him so he could rest his cheek on your stomach, nuzzling his face into you.

"Oh, sweet pea, you want mommy to cuddle with you?" You asked sweetly. The way Spencer nodded quickly making you smile wide as he let you go so you could climb onto the bed with him, shifting onto the opposite side from him. As soon as your back was meeting the sheets, he was practically on top of you, his head nuzzled into your chest, and his leg swung over you as he lay half on top of you with his arm around your waist.

"You did so well, baby, always such a good boy for mommy," you murmured as you felt yourself getting tired too, letting your fingers card through his hair as you felt him smile against you at the praise.

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep, and you knew you wouldn't be long after him, but you hated when he slept in his glasses, so you ever so carefully manoeuvred his face so you could gently grab the bridge or his glasses between your thumb and finger and slowly slide them off his face, sighing in relief when he didn't stir before folding them and placing them on your nightstand.

"Night, sweet pea," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his hair like you do every single night before letting your eyes fall closed.

@cancersunthatsit @mindfullycriminal @reidsdaisies @iluvreid @fliesforeyes @teachugger69 @queermaxwooo @olives-and-sunshine @ac0511 @unimportantweirdo @criminalmindswife @deluluforu @busybeingstrange

(if you wanna be tagged when i post fics just lmk!)

791 notes · View notes

sonotkari · 27 days

Text

Saturn

Hanni Pham x Fem Reader

[ Synopsis ]

Listening to Saturn by Sza has made you think about many things since your last (not-so) relationship, and Hanni is on your side, listening to you yapping your thoughts.

Fluff, Angst, and a tiny bit of cursing :)

[ Word Count ]

1.5k yes it's very very short :(

[ a/n ]

I've been listening to a lot of songs lately and the idea just popped out when I was listening to Sza! It's really cheesy like, really, might be too tacky but oh well :P My first time writing this kind of stuff so it's a mess but do please take it easy on me guys /ᐠ｡ꞈ｡ᐟ\ (i suck at writing honestly)

I hope someone out there likes it dis for u bae <3

You've spent your entire year, loving someone. As the "giving it all" type of persona when it comes to relationships even when it's as small as a crush, you really gave it your all. Praising them the chance you got to, making sure to spend lots of quality time together, presenting gifts for no particular reason just because you enjoyed seeing the smile that appeared on their face with the cute little dimple on their cheeks which was one of the many things you liked- no, loved about them.

But maybe it was a little too much or perhaps it was something else. You eventually got tired of pursuing them after a year. Feeling more and more drained as the days passed and feeling that both of your distances hadn't moved an inch, you were debating a lot with yourself. Mixed signals were everywhere but you just couldn't let them go that easily. Like you were stuck in quicksand, trying to get out of it but as you do, you just sink in deeper. Might as well let it sink in and disappear.

That was all a year ago, and you were now outside by the beach. Sat by the white sand as you admired how beautiful the waves were even at nighttime. Saturn by Sza was playing on your headphones as you looked up at the dark sky, admiring the little stars you could barely see while the sound of waves was also in the background with the music.

If Karma's really real

How am I still here?

Just seems so unfair

I could be wrong tho

If there's a point to being good

Then where's my reward?

The good die young and poor

I gave it all I could

The lyrics hit you hard, earning a bit of a chest pain as you couldn't relate to it more than ever. All the fun memories you had together flooded your mind as you listened to the music. Going to dates where she mostly wanted to go, having late-night calls and talking about almost everything that was going on with your life to each other, all the stupid jokes and the bickering where your friends couldn't take it anymore and the two of you would just laugh it all off.

You had to lose it all. Sometimes you wonder if you've made the wrong decision to let go. Regret washes your entire mind and soul as your tears start flowing non-stop every midnight, reminding you of all of the beautiful memories you just had to trash out because of the choice you made. But as much as you felt all the joy and the happiness of the world when you were with her, it began to change into pain. Pain that you wouldn't have imagined stinging so much that you eventually had to make a choice to let go and leave.

Taking a big deep breath, you felt someone's presence come and sit beside you. You smile softly at her as you take off your headphones, letting them hang on your neck for a while as you can hear small music leaking from them.

"What are you doing here at this time?"

"Just admiring the view while having some fresh air"

"You sound like a romantic"

Hanni snorted a bit as she looked at the view in front of her. The small cold breeze hits both of you smelling a hint of sea salt passing by as well.

"I thought you were crying again"

"Stop reminding me, it's embarrassing"

You laugh a bit at what Hanni had just said and remember the time when she decided to crash into your apartment with snacks in her hand but instead caught you crying in your room alone with crumpled tissues scattered everywhere. You were a total mess at that time and the image still creeps into your mind, sending a shiver and an uneasy wave of embarrassment down your spine every time you remember them.

"I was thinking of her, though..."

Thoughts linger on about her once again as you start to daze off from the beach view.

What if I didn't let go of her? Would we still be talking, laughing at each other like we always do, or would I be in a crying mess again?

We used to joke around, laughing non-stop at almost everything, now all I do is cry non-stop instead. I sometimes wonder, if I had enough courage in me and talked about my feelings about her, we might've done something about it together.

I wonder if she thinks about me like I do. Has she ever cried about me? I feel bad if I ever made her cry. Not like I can do something about it now.

I wish I could, but I think it'll just hurt me again. Because I'll be giving her my all again and I'll be stuck in a loop then.

You snapped out when you finally noticed you were rambling your thoughts to Hanni without even noticing.

"Sorry..."

"Don't be"

Hanni shifted her gaze, locking them at yours as she smiled warmly. You would always feel reassured every time you see that smile of hers. Perfectly warm for a cold breezy night. You could see the stars clearly by now and the moon peaking from the thin clouds, the light shimmering as it reflects on the surface of the water, and a bit of music that's still playing from your headphones, going to the end of the chorus.

Find something worth saving

It's all for the taking

I always say

I'll be better on Saturn

None of this matters

Dreaming of Saturn

You listen to the lyrics and think if it'd be actually nice on Saturn. Even if it wasn't as far as Saturn, just somewhere you could ease your mind without all the lingering thoughts that wrapped you around like a thorned bush, pricking your soul.

"Saturn sounds nice"

The girl stares at you with a hint of confusion in her eyes as you suddenly, out of the blue, talk about planets.

"I'm so fucked up on this planet, might as well just go to Saturn you know?"

You never know, being in Saturn might be better than you think. Far away from the problems you've left behind, no one chasing you down for it. I'll make Saturn a place where I could rest from heart, just carefree and mindless. No more pain or hurt. Just focusing on myself and the future ahead of me. I bet I could make the best planet in the universe if NASA would let me. Well, that would be valid if we could "land" on Saturn in the first place without burning and melting ourselves.

You outed a chuckle as you yapped your thoughts of Saturn to Hanni and the girl couldn't help but laugh lightly at your sudden plans about making the "best planet in the universe"

But deep down, you knew that even when you'd send yourself off to Saturn or even as far away as Neptune, you'd somehow think about the girl just like how you've been lingering your thoughts on her on a random night at the beach. You take a deep breath, stopping thinking about it for once when you hear her speak up in a quiet mumble.

"I'll be your Saturn."

It was your turn to look at the girl with confusion and surprise. Your eyes met once again as she showed that warm smile with a soft chuckle.

"Sorry, that just sounded cheesy way more than I imagined"

Your thoughts wander again.

Hanni had been with you from your first-ever crush to your first-ever relationship (even when it was complicated as hell) till your heartbreaking moments. She was the one who you'd open up to when it came to opinions and bits of advice, she's the one you'd tell firsthand about every exciting thing that happened to your life, the one you'd update even when it was 3 am early in the morning, and her shoulders were the ones you cried and leaned on when your heart was shattered to pieces.

Being with Hanni allowed you to be idiotic, to be yourself. No matter how bad the situations were or how stupid things could get when with her, you could just laugh it all off and be carefree. You'd forget all your worries and problems, and the time with her would fly so fast. You remember way back then, you'd repeatedly ask Hanni's mom if she could stay a bit longer. You feel all the comfort you need when you're with her.

"You already are"

Her facial expression turned into a surprised one as she heard your response. The music leaking from your headphones had finally come to an end, only the sound of waves in the background left as you gave back the warm smile she always wears to reassure you, letting you forget all the problems and weight on your shoulders.

"You are my Saturn"

After some time of staring at each other, the long comforting silence soon ended with soft giggles and laughs as you and Hanni looked back at the ocean view with the golden moon and diamond stars shining their way making everything a perfect picture.

"You were right... that did sound cheesy than I imagined"

no way I just fucking finished this wait what

#kari writes! 🦦#hanni pham #newjeans #newjeans x reader #newjeans hanni #kpop x reader #hanni x reader #pham hanni #hanni #nwjns

152 notes · View notes

zo3mess · 6 months

Text

Laundry girl

Summary: Laundromat is usually empty so late at night except for Adrian, until it isn’t. But there is no reason for him to get nervous around his new laundry buddy, right?

Warnings: mentions of violence, mention of death, mention of period blood, foul language and that’s all? If you notice something that might be triggering, just let me know. Also female reader and no use Y/N as far as I remember.

Word count: 3.8K

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: My ongoing brain rot with Vigilante, inspiration from the song Laundry Girl from Ludo (I politely stole a lot from their lyrics) and need to practice my English before test somehow escalated into this. This is a mess, nothing makes sense idk. Honestly, I have no idea why I decided to make it public, but hey, bad content is still content right? English is not my first language, so if you see any grammar mistakes or weird words, just ignore them. However every criticism is welcomed and appreciated.

Oh, the sweet contrast of late spring. Days warm enough to let bare skin be caressed by heating sun, yet cold nights leave shivers down the spine, a fleeting reminder that the carelessness of summer is not entirely there yet. Exactly on one of those nights, Adrian found himself in a 24-hour laundromat down the street from his small apartment. Neon lights from the sign were illuminating dark streets as well as the faint lights from inside. He didn’t like that smell that lingered in the air. Fragrances from detergents that are far too strong and mix in an unpleasant whiff, plus the disinfection and the smell from forgotten socks that got stuck somewhere between a wall and washing machine. No, thanks. He could buy his own washing machine, which would be much more practical, but why make anything easy when you can make it difficult.

When Adrian entered the familiar environment, he sighed at the strong smell hitting his nose. Temperature in the laundromat was slightly warmer than the one outside, but not enough for him to take off his hoodie. Adrian settled his bag with dirty clothes on a scraped metal table in the middle of the cramped room. There was one thing he liked about this laundromat, even though it was open almost nonstop, no one was ever there late at night like he was. Usually. Sometimes few drunks were sleeping peacefully in the corner, desperately seeking just a tad bit of warmth, but as long they didn’t do anything, Adrian had no reason to pay any attention to them. Tonight was different, his regular loneliness and peace was disturbed by another person entering the room. However screeching of old doors, quick gust of cold air and heavy tired footsteps did not alert him at all.

His mind was too focused on a single task before him, getting rid of dried blood that was plastered on his black undershirt. The one he wears under his chest plate, one that was stitched up too many times from all the slashing and tearing. Will he ever buy a new one? Of course not. Not until he finds a shirt that looks and feels the same as this one. Adrian cursed the guy that got his suit in such disheveled state. That bastard deserved a bullet to his head even before he managed to get Vigilante’s suit all messy and sticky with blood.

,,Do you need help with that?” you ask with a soft voice, a smile on your face while you look at the stranger in front of you expectantly ,,I don’t want to call myself a professional, but I can pretty much clean every stain. Or at least I haven’t been defeated so far,’’

Your question caught him off guard, his hands wincing a little. Green eyes glancing up at you with startled expression. When did you get here? Were you watching him the whole time? Crouched up above his shirt, scrubbing away with bile soap, tip of his tongue stuck out in concentration. You leaned across the table, examining his work. ,,Ketchup?’’

,,Blood actually,’’ Why would it be ketchup? He doesn’t even like ketchup. It does not taste like tomatoes at all! Goddamn lying sauce. ,,I got a really bad nosebleed. I get that a lot, that’s why my clothes are always bloody.’’ No other reason of course.

,,If your clothes are always bloody you should have no problem with cleaning them right? But I gotta admit blood is a hell of an enemy when it dries and sits on the fabric for a while. Just put it in cold water to soak off, that should do it.’’

,,Why do you know so much about cleaning blood?’’ Adrian asks with suspicion in his voice. Eyebrows furrow under his glasses and his eyes stare at you intently. Paranoia creeping up on him again.

,,Well I don’t know if you noticed but I’m a woman. Periods teach you a lot. I’m not some blood-stained killer I swear.’’ You say the last sentence with a wide smile, shaking your head before returning to your own work. Throwing dirty laundry into the washing machine without even glancing back at Adrian. He was standing there with fingers tapping on the metal table, burning a hole in the back of your skull with his stare. Yeah, you better not be. He thinks to himself.

He forced a smile and went back to scrubbing, he did not have the time to soak it off, he needed it ready for tomorrow, preferably without blood. You paid him no mind and pushed the button to start the cycle. With a sigh you took out a small book from the laundry basket you brought with you and sat down on a screeching chair nestled between other washing machines. If you have to sit it out here you might as well do something productive.

,,Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy,” his voice made you flinch and you glanced at him absentmindedly ,,I love that movie!”

,,Book’s even better.” You acknowledged his giddiness with simple words. The truth is you enjoyed reading books after you watched movies that were based on them. Sometimes they were better, sometimes worse, but they always expanded the story and the universe.

,,Reading is for nerds plus it can’t be that much better.” Doubting Thomas, of course. Adrian quickly waved off the idea that books can be better than movies.

,,There is extremely many things that did not make it in the movie, not gonna mention directive changes. But go on, live your life without all the great details.” You returned to your reading, barely registering quiet mumbling coming from Adrian’s direction.

,,What are you doing here anyway? I come here almost every Saturday and I am alone here.” He won’t drop it, curiosity gets the better of him most of the time, why would this be any different? It is suspicious that another girl is washing her laundry in the middle of the night. The fact he is currently getting rid of blood from the undershirt he wears out to kill criminals is an entirely different story.

,,My washing machine broke and I don’t have spare money to buy a new one. I’ll be coming here until my next salary.” The other option is attempting to fix it yourself, that would be a death sentence for the washing machine and you too.

,,But why so late? It’s way past midnight.”

,,Couldn’t sleep.” You just shrugged. You did not care if he believed you or not, it was true. Your new neighbors were blasting music practically all evening, it was better to wait it out elsewhere. ,,It seems we will be meeting each other more often. I didn’t catch your name.”

,,It’s Adrian.” His voice was hesitant, suspicion rising and falling with each word you said. He’s not sure if you are a poor soul with dirty laundry or a spy hired to watch the infamous Vigilante. How would you even know his secret identity? He had no idea, but sometimes it is better to account for all possibilities. You nodded at his answer and told him your name in return. Little something he burned into the back of his mind.

The more time you spent together in the chilly room, words drowned out by buzzing washing machines, the more you got along. Starting off with awkward small talk, through petty debate whenever books are better than movies, all the way to wishing each other goodnight as well as Adrian wishing you had a monster under your bed and parting ways. Only if he knew monster wasn’t the one creeping up on you in your sleep. Thoughts of tonight busying your mind.

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

The second time he met you was two weeks from the last encounter, just the way he mentioned previously. This time you were there first, already occupying one machine with white clothes while the other part of your laundry sat in a basket nearby. You quickly shot him a smile and he greeted you in return.

,,You’re here early.’’ Adrian commented almost under his breath as he put full duffel bag on the table and began sorting his clothes by colors.

,,Yeah well, no reason for it really. Maybe curiosity got the best of me and I got here earlier just to see if you would came like you said you would.’’ It seems that old habits die hard. Unknown to you, Adrian was always on time in his routines. Even if he wanted to do his laundry on a different day or at a different time, his body would urge him to do things in the exact same way.

The conversation went on quite smoothly, like good old friends meeting. Usual chatter about their days, unnecessary details of “total baller” breakfast from Adrian’s side, gossip about migraine-inducing coworkers from yours. Adrian attention was glued to every word you said, piece by piece putting together a bigger picture. He can’t even remember the last time someone actually wanted to talk with him and not just wave him off with dismissive answers.

,,- And then she put a fucking poster on our shared fridge. That stupid one with cat on a tree with “Hang in there” under it. And I thought our office could not get any more stereotypical,” you were throwing your hands around, visibly stating your annoyance at your coworker Debbie. ,,I don’t want to “Hang in there” I would much rather hang myself and I swear to God I will hang her in janitor’s closet if she puts another poster on the fridge or tells me a cheesy joke about how much she hates her husband, it’s not funny.”

She’s joking, Adrian, don’t sweat it out. There is no way she could kill anyone. His inner thoughts creep up to him again. From time to time, he would appreciate if his Vigilante mind left Adrian alone. ,,So uhhh… You don’t like cheesy jokes?” Yeah, great save, do not mention hanging Debbie.

,,I like jokes, just not stupid ones. To be honest I can’t remember the last time someone told me a funny joke. I guess it is a curse of modern times, humor changed.” You shrugged your shoulders and walk around the crumpled room, looking around and taking in details you missed on your first visit.

,,I could tell you a funny joke. I know plenty of them!” Adrian’s enthusiasm made you stop in your tracks. He’s just standing there, a wide smile forming on his face, fingers fidgeting with hem of dirty shirt that laid in mountain of laundry on the table in front of him.

Even if you told him no, Adrian has decided to recite every joke he knew. Some of them were horrible, some of them were… better. Yet it did not made you laugh. It was a fun game to pass the time, he told you lousy jokes and after each one he patiently waited for your reaction with puppy eyes. You, on the other hand, had tried so hard to not even let a corner of your mouth turn upwards. The bigger satisfaction it brought the more he stammered as he tried to remember another joke. Adrian could not let himself be a loser in this situation. He will not give up.

Not laughing at his jokes should be illegal. And that would make you a criminal. In that case, he would not feel bad if he had to take you out as Vigilante. And maybe if he got rid of you, he wouldn’t feel that irritating need late at night, body itching to go to the laundromat near his apartment to see if you couldn’t sleep either. If you’re scrubbing spilled wine from your shirt with cheap detergent before throwing it in a washing machine with the rest of your clothes. If you’re waiting patiently not only for your clothes to dry but also for that funny stranger with curly hair and a dorky smile to show up. Maybe then his mind would calm down again. He doesn’t need any more distractions in his head.

,,Knock knock,’’ he starts again, determined to win this imaginary joke war.

,,Come in,’’ you retort while chuckle is threatening to slip from your lips. Adrian’s arms slouch down his body, enthusiasm transforming into… Annoyance? He so desperately wants to see you smile, why can’t you comply? People usually laugh at his jokes, or more like they laugh at him. No matter the reason, people occasionally laugh in his presence alongside constant eye rolls. You haven’t done either and it is messing with him.

,,Knock knock,’’ a firmer repetition. He’s not going to get discouraged.

Determination is admirable in certain situations, in others it just leads to doom. Like that one time when Adrian was chasing a thief down the street, low on bullets, ringing in his ears, lungs burning, but he could not forgive himself if that rat got away. All his attention was set on the dark figure way ahead of him that he did not notice a car when he sprinted across a badly lit street, ultimately knocking him down. Heavens were on his side that night, nothing serious happened except for a few nasty bruises and unrelenting remorse that haunted him following weeks. But the good kind of determination? That’s gonna win him a smile from a pretty girl in the laundromat.

,,Who’s there?’’ this time you decided to go along with his joke. These types of jokes are… foul, but you just want to see where he will land with it.

,,Honey bee,’’

,,Honey bee who?’’

,,Honey bee a dear and get that for me please?’’ Adrian says it with a wide smile and excitement in his voice. He points at your laundry beads that boost the scent. ,,It smells so good when you open it, can I try it?’’

You laugh just a bit. Fucking finally. Now Adrian felt like at the top of the world. He made you laugh, no matter if it was just a pitying laugh to get him to shut up, he decided to believe you actually found him funny and no one could take that from him. You noticed the dreamy look that plastered his face, especially when you let him borrow scented beads. Part of you cherished the fact he liked the ones you washed your clothes with every time and part of Adrian cherished the fact that now his clothes will smell like you before it wears out. That his sleeping shirt will carry part of you on those nights that he doesn’t see you here.

Wait, when did that happen? Smell of another person on his clothes should weird him out, it should give him goosebumps all over his pale skin. Why does it sound so comforting this time? Why does he want to keep part of you close? The last time he felt something similar was when his brother Gut died. They weren’t super close, but his death hit him like a train and he quite literally became a trainwreck. Adrian sat in his brother’s childhood room for hours, taking notes of all the small details, remembering the exact position of each and every piece of furniture. And at times when he felt close to breaking into tears, he took out his brother’s shirts. The familiarity and memories brought comfort. Comfort that disappeared as fast as it came.

This time he was not mourning death of someone close to him, this time he did not miss the feeling of adrenaline that he felt with Peacemaker when they shot appliances in forest or when they killed criminals together before he got locked up. This time Adrian felt a need to be close to someone he met just a few weeks ago, someone who barely knew him and had not gotten the chance to be taken back by his weirdness.

These thoughts and confusion followed him home that night. Not even the cold air could not break him out of trance. The way you laughed, the way you softly wished him goodnight when you parted ways, skin illuminated by purple neon light hanging above laundromat, and the way his now clean laundry smells like you since he begged for your scented beads. Pull yourself together Adrian.

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

,,I don’t understand how you might think Fargo is better than the Office or Better Call Saul for example. Saying it is the best show ever made is crazy.” Friendly banter about TV series was accompanied by clicking of your flip-flops as you made your way towards your apartment complex just a couple blocks away from the laundromat. Adrian had insisted that he walks you home this time, apparently he was afraid you might “fall asleep on your way home” since you two spent almost the whole night in the laundromat.

Not just doing laundry, you also brought your book, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and read out loud for him to hear the difference between book and movie. While you waited for your clothes to dry you two sat on uncomfortable chairs, you with book wide open, pages visible for Adrian to peek from behind your shoulder whenever he wanted. Though most of the time he spent with his eyes closed, face leaning on a stock of washing machines next to him, listening to your reading like a bedtime story. Even after your laundry was done you decided to stick around, competing who flicks quarters farthest, catching peanuts in your mouth and testing echo in every washing machine. Until you finally decided to head home and get at least few hours of sleep, by that time it was past 5 a.m.

Sun was lazily rising, yellow painted the sky but few dark clouds were spoiling the otherwise beautiful picture. The smell of rain was in the air, you both knew there was a storm coming on a calm Sunday morning. Few joggers passed you in a hurry. Early birds. Psychopaths. Not like Adrian wasn’t psychotic at least a bit, but he wasn’t that mad to get up so early to run in still-cold weather.

,,What do you think is the best show then?” he calmly asked and nudged your shoulder with his own, encouraging you to answer.

,,Well… I think the best show is The Kids in the Hall, undying classic.” You knew your walk slowly but surely reached its end. You could see your main entrance, the fact you were reaching your home was setting you aflame in the worst way possible. Nonetheless, your eyelids grew heavy and you could not stop yourself from yawning every few seconds, an unavoidable need to fall into your bed and surrender to sweet slumber.

,,That show is like 100 years old! Dinosaurs watched it!” Adrian shook his head with laughter. You didn’t find his jokes funny but you loved this out of all the shows. Unbelievable.

,,Hey! If you call that show old, it is like you’re calling yourself old! Should I call nursing to pick you up?” You stopped in front of your apartment complex, not entirely sure Adrian realizes this is where your hangout ends. You spin around to face him and quickly jab him in the chest with your finger.

,,Ha ha, very funny. But really? So many good shows and you pick this one? And call me out for liking Fargo? You have horrible taste.” He couldn’t let this go now he saw how adorable you looked when you were angry. What is the worst that can happen if he teases you more, right?

,,Shut it, Adrian. I’m serious.” You said that so calmly it almost took him aback, however he could see the fire burning behind your eyes. It only riled him up more.

,,You can’t make me-“ You grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him down swiftly. The best solution to shut him up was to press your lips against his. A firm, simple kiss that sent electricity through your body. You felt a muffled yelp that escaped Adrian’s mouth when you surprised him in such an affectionate manner. And at that moment, when your lips touched his, for the first time in a while his mind was quiet, yet his soul was singing. Time stopped, eyes were tightly shut, heart hammering inside, begging to jump out of his chest, one of his hands found its place on your forearm in uncertainty and took a step closer to get his body closer to you.

You, on the other hand, were fully aware of what was happening. The feeling of gratification that you “won” an argument was the last thing on your mind. The only thing you could think of was acting up on your secret wishes that swam through your head every time you went to the laundromat to see him. Suddenly aware of everything, you felt the heat that radiated from Adrian’s body, warming you up in cold air, a few raindrops making you shiver as they fell on your skin. Or were you shivering from the closeness of this intimate act? If anyone asked you would not be able to answer. It did not matter anyway, the only thing that mattered was you kissing him.

The kiss lasted only for a few seconds, but you would both swear it was an eternity. When you pulled away, slowly and delicately, Adrian still had eyes closed, hand hanging in the air where your arm used to be. You realized his mind was completely shut off. A smile formed on your lips at the thought of shutting Adrian up this way every time he brings up some stupid nonsensical squabble. You left him standing there as rain started to fall on his hair, diamonds in those dark brown curls. And when he finally came to his senses and decided to open his eyes… You were gone. Coldness on his body where you were pressed together, sparks lingering on lips, sweet perfume filling his nose, those should be indicators that it was very much real, but his mind was not certain. How could it be, when the stupid brain ceased the second his dreams came true.

You quickly ran upstairs to your apartment, running up to the window in your kitchen and from behind a curtain you watched confused Adrian, who was walking in the opposite direction. What other choice did you leave him than to head home and wonder. Wonder about what you were doing when raindrops splattered on the sidewalk, sounding like your flip-flops. Wonder if you’re already sleeping safe and sound in your bedroom like he will when he reaches his home. Wonder if you kiss him again once you see each other next week in the laundromat. Wonder if the laundry girl was real or just a dream.

#adrian chase #adrian chase x reader #peacemaker #vigilante #vigilante x reader #vigilante imagine #he lives in my head rent free #Spotify

231 notes · View notes

hetalimagines · 7 months

Text

General headcanons for Alfred as a boyfriend (SFW)

Here's my first actual post on this blog, hehe... I can't find the ask but someone requested some Alfred headcanons, so here are my rambles about what I think he's like as a boyfriend!

He’s honestly not the most traditionally romantic person. Your relationship is more like friends who make out sometimes. But he does have his own little ways of showing you he loves you!

He’ll put together playlists of songs that remind him of you. They’re mostly loose connections, like maybe a song mentions your eye color, or the lyrics remind him of a date you went on together, or it just sounds romantic and makes him wanna kiss you. He likes to sit with you while you listen (to every single song), and he interrupts the songs a bit to explain why he chose them.

“This one had me thinking what if we were dancing in a ballroom together, and out of nowhere, bam! Zombies bust in. The door crashes to the ground! Our dance turns into one of those cool fighting scenes with the—oh, this part reminded me of the time I woke up early and you were about to fall off the bed. You had a cute bedhead.”

(You have no idea what the lyrics are at this point.)

Dates with him are pretty casual, more like “hanging out” than anything fancy. Maybe you stay at home and watch movies/play games, or you go out for dinner at a local diner, or you go do awful karaoke together, or you go and prank a friend together.

He’s happy as long as he’s with you. Bonus if there’s food and/or drink.

He occasionally takes you out to a more traditional restaurant and dresses for the occasion. They’re usually expensive, too. The food isn’t his preference (too complicated for his palate), but if it makes you happy, he’s all for dealing with it for just one night.

His primary love languages are acts of service and quality time. He’s always doing what he can to help you out (and feel proud of himself in the process). Whether he helps you run errands, runs a bath for you ahead of time, or fluffs your pillow before you get in bed, it’s all because he wants to make your life easier!

He gets a little jealous if you ever spend time with your shared friends without him, or if you spend more time with others than him.

He’s so excited if you take interest in any of his hobbies. Movies? He’ll ask if you want to co-write a script with him. (He’s very relaxed about what exactly ends up in the script.) Archaeology? He has so many random facts to dump on you, and he’ll be super impressed by any knowledge you have on it. Conspiracy theories? Time to watch a bunch of documentaries! He enjoys them despite their flaws, but lets you know exactly when something is false and what actually happened.

He tries to take interest in your hobbies, too, even if he doesn’t understand what you’re talking about. It could be the most boring thing and he’d still listen and ask you questions about it. If it makes you happy, he wants to know all about it.

Pet names from him consist of things like babe, dude (💀), honey, occasionally sweetie, (jokingly… mostly) prince or princess. It’s all over the place. He’ll call you honey and dude back-to-back sometimes.

He loves debating if you’re comfortable with it! But be warned, he gets very heated about certain topics. His sense of justice is important to him. Otherwise, he’s usually not serious about these debates and doesn’t care who wins.

He tries to keep things light and doesn’t usually let people see his more serious side. He’ll open up to you more over time, however. It’s really him letting a wall down and allowing himself to get closer to you.

Every now and then, he has days where he’s a lot quieter and calmer than usual. He just wants to relax, stay on the couch with you and watch movies or simply chat. Maybe a movie chattering in the background as he tells you about his childhood. He doesn’t try so hard to keep up this energetic, heroic persona.

He’s right back to normal the next day like nothing happened.

Likes to annoy you for fun. Not in a mean-spirited way. He just thinks your responses are cute and has poor impulse control. Poking your cheeks or ruffling your hair or playing an obnoxious song loudly on the stereo while he dances. But he’ll back off if you’re genuinely upset with him. He means no harm.

He loves if you’re willing to play along with whatever he gets up to. Maybe he’s decided he’s going to try and vacuum the whole house while doing a handstand on the vacuum. You can hold onto his legs to help him stay balanced.

This man is very impulsive and has a tendency to get himself hurt. Random bruises all over his body or a cut along his forearm. He bounces back easily, and doesn’t want to fuss over it, but he lowkey likes if you baby him about it. He’ll always say how it’s not a big deal and he can take it, but his heart does this little flutter when you show concern, and even more if you force him to take better care of himself.

He burns himself in the kitchen and you force him to run it under cold water. He’s swooning inside.

He likes to gossip about others, especially over breakfast. He can’t help it; he’s just nosy, and he always has an idea of what’s going on and how he can help out. Huge bonus if you gossip with him!

He loves to feed you, but the majority of the food he brings for you is burgers or tubs of ice cream. He likes to experiment with the burgers’ toppings and seasonings, but they’re all burgers nonetheless.

Every now and then, he does plan some big romantic endeavor. It’s like a surprise. You never know when it’s coming… You wake up one morning and find out he’s booked a week long cruise, your bedroom is filled with balloons, and there’s enough breakfast food on the table to feed an army.

He does this thing sometimes (often) where he swoops in and has to save you. A puddle on the ground? No need to fear! He picks you up and swiftly carries you over it. The safest place for you is in his arms. He’ll even lay down and let you use him as a bridge if you want.

A suspicious penny on the sidewalk? LOOK OUT, IT MIGHT BE A BOMB! Let HIM step on it before you get blown up!

He steps on it. Nothing happens. Better safe than sorry!

If you’re the more independent type, that won’t stop him from trying. He just wants to keep you safe and have you appreciate his efforts. Being disinterested or resistant will just make him try harder.

Says cheesy stuff like “happy wife, happy life” unironically. He’s also the type to use terrible pickup lines to flirt with you. Totally unaware of how bad they are until you start laughing.

He also doesn’t care that they’re bad. He’s just having fun.

Loves to give you his clothes to wear. Seriously. You want one of his hoodies? Try six of them.

You complain when one stops smelling like him so he puts it on, works out, then gives it back to you like :D! Fixed the problem!

He takes so many pictures of you guys. Videos, too. His phone storage is eaten up by it. His favorite thing is to take selfies together. Usually with some silly filter. Or an even sillier caption.

“me and the babe out shopping” and it’s a picture of you, holding a piece of fruit with the dog ears filter

He’s not the most physically affectionate, but he always gives you morning kisses and especially kisses before leaving the house. He also loves carrying you around (mostly bridal style) in his arms for no reason other than he can. A hand on your back, another on your thighs, your head pressed against his chest. He loves it.

He loves knowing you find him physically attractive! He worries sometimes about being too overweight, so any reassurance that you like his body helps. If you think he’s hot, and you’re hot yourself, that must mean he definitely is.

Has a tendency to call you hot, but he’ll call you other things if it makes you uncomfortable.

Occasionally brags about you and how lucky he is. Not as often as you might think. Though he gets oddly competitive if anyone acts like their partner is better than you and starts spouting whatever he can so everyone knows you’re the absolute best. No competition.

#alfred isn't one of my fave characters so i hope i did him justice ♡#hetalia #hetaila headcanons #hetalia imagines #hetalia x reader #aph america #hws america #aph america x reader #hws america x reader #america x reader #reader insert #sugar

227 notes · View notes

naneun-no · 8 months

Text

From my drafts so it’s late but:

Today’s delulu thought is that Standing Next to You has too many lyrical coincidences to not be about Jimin.

🫣 I SAID IT WAS DELUSIONAL OKAY

You are free to disagree. You probably should 🤣

I mean we know it wasn’t written by Jung Kook but obviously the version he recorded was arranged with and for JK, and “leave your body golden” can’t be a coincidence right? Like it’s the whole ass album name, plus a word that carries connotations of JK himself, which the ppl who worked with him on Seven must have known.

So if that wasn’t a coincidence… then what about:

1. “How we left and right is something we control” �� a callback to both Left and Right by CP feat JK, but also a nod to Butter, a massive BTS hit and a song that he performs alongside his boyfie bestie JM.

2. “When it’s deep like DNA, something they can’t take away” — a callback to another massive BTS hit, interesting. And *delulu warning* also reminds me of JM and JK’s extreme similarities that they themselves have referred to before?? They’re wired the same, they have the same sense of humor, they live and breathe for the same shit and even though they have some very key differences, they really do seem like twin flames (even if you just see it as platonic). They are similar in ways that seem braided into the fibers of their being. Like, in their DNA 🧬 some may say. *delulu warning #2* I’m also reminded of Jimin’s Letter lyrics: “After all this time has passed will we still be the same? Just like we were when we first met.”

Also, “something they can’t take away” is an interesting turn of phrase… more on that later.

3. Okay the real meaty part:

Screaming I’ll testify that we'll survive the test of time, they can't deny our love. They can't divide us, we'll survive the test of time I promise I'll be right here

[I seriously can’t believe how closeted-couple-coded this song is]

First off, again with the Letter lyrics mirrored here with the “test of time.” Then it’s got all this drama about being ripped apart and how it won’t happen and how they’ll be next to each other no matter what and that they have “something they can’t take away.”

Not only does all that line up with other Letter lyrics, but it is so goddamn dramatic and for what?

Be for real, what straight couple in this day and age would have this much working against them?? The only possible explanations are: 1) within the fantasy world of a song I suppose this could be some sort of Romeo and Juliet/West Side Story motif, and to be fair the music video did have a kind of rival gang/crime family look to it? Sort of? With the men fighting below the stage? Idk. Or it could be 2) the fact that idols do in fact often have to hide even their straight relationships, which is wild to me. But I know it’s a thing, so. I suppose there’s that. JK doesn’t seem the type though honestly. I think he’d be even more open about it than V.

On the other hand, the lyrics seem SO fit for a couple who are a) queer, b) closeted, c) currently in/about to be in a legislatively homophobic military and country (am I saying that right? Lol) and d) internationally famous pop idols in the SAME BAND who are both widely regarded as heterosexual sex symbols and would be shunned by many people in their homeland AND internationally if their queerness were to be revealed, much less if they were truly an item and THAT news broke.

Whew. That was a lot but like… that would be a real example of a relationship that would be VERY threatened by outside forces plotting against them and trying to separate them. Not JK and a hot blonde model, not him and a Korean actress, not basically any other scenario but a queer relationship.

Idk I know he didn’t write it but like ??? What the hell is that theme? I’m dying to get inside the mind of the people who DID write it, because are they or are they jikookers at this point like?!

4. Just for fun I’ll also point out the “leave your body golden like the sun and moon” 😏 like. Okay. At this point the songwriters are watching Jikook compilations, drooling over @slaaverin edits like convince me they’re not. CONVINCE ME.

5. “Deeper than the rain”?! “The pain”?! Alright I’m not even serious at this point but ??? Rainy day fight 🌧️?!?! 🤣🤣

6. “Standing next to you” oh you mean like… for 18 months? In a companion enlistment program? Like that?

Alright alright I’m done but you get my point. What even is this song if not an anthem of jikookery?! It’s more on-the-nose than Letter, more sneaky than Still With You. It wasn’t written by JK but at this point I’m calling that the songwriters are as delulu as me.

Hope y’all are well. If you made it to the end of this thank you for donning your tinfoil hat with me and I hope you at least got a giggle.

✌️

#jikook #kookmin #jimin and jungkook #jikook theories #delulu time

196 notes · View notes

fallen-angel-with-broken-halo · 3 months

Text

As a self-proclaimed fan of Epic: The Musical. Here's a breakdown of my thoughts on the newest saga! Spoilers for the Thunder Saga, obviously.

Love the melody on "Suffering." Especially the beginning. A lot about the song shows that something is off. The way the siren is trying to convince him to get in the water, to let her take away his suffering. In the meantime, Odysseus is manipulating her back, telling lies and letting her eat them up. Making her tell him how to avoid Poseidon is so obvious to the listener, but the siren was so oblivious. The almost playful banter is peak. (Her little "of course" and "oh no" kill me every time. It's so cute~)

"Different Beast" is INTENSE. The way Odysseus talks/sings shows how much his personality and behaviour changed in "Monster." The "we" changing to "he" in the chorus makes this all the more obvious. The sirens pleading for being spared, Odysseus showing no mercy because he was already hurt as a result of it before. He couldn't allow himself to make the same mistake. Ordering to kill them all while surrounded by screams... "He is the man-made monster." Love this double-entendre.

"Scylla" is gorgeous. And again, it's very telling about Odysseus and his mental state. First, we have Scylla coaxing Eurylochus to reveal his secret to further the roots of distrust within the crew and adding another reason for the later on betrayals. I find Odysseus saying that there's not much to say quite interesting but also again, showing how he truly felt. He was done. He just wanted to go home. Then there's her speaking to Odysseus. He knew that he wouldn't get out of there with everyone alive. And she knew that he knew. "Deep down, we only care for ourselves." That was a huge callout to Odysseus. He always acts like everything he does is for his son and wife, but in fact, that's very selfish when constantly facing foes with his crew. He prioritizes himself going home over others, allowing them to die. "Deep down, we're lonely demons from hell." That line has so many implications, not only calling back to Odysseus just recently leaving the Underworld, but also him becoming the monster. The lonely part has only gradually increased since the death of Polites, with everyone starting to turn on each other, which would culminate soon after this encounter. The final monologue of Scylla tells more about Odysseus than her, honestly. He had to both shed and be witness to the shedding of blood. He also had to give up his ideals so he could go home. They are the same. They both have hands bathed in blood, which reminds me of Odysseus singing in "Monster" about his foes and how they did not regret doing what they felt was right.

"Mutiny." Eurylochus had had enough of Odysseus prioritizing himself going home. He was not the only one who had something to say about it, however. The rest of the crew were also mad at Odysseus' willingness to trade their lives for his family. Odysseus didn't want to fight. He wanted to deescalate the conflict, but it was futile. Eurylochus was tired of suffering, people around him dying, awful living conditions, starvation. That essentially became the crews doom. The callbacks to "Just A Man" and "Luck Runs Out" in this one are painful. Also, the musical motif from "Survive" when Odysseus woke up and Eurylochus monologued! I don't know if there's an official name for it, but I adore it. Also, Eurylochus and Odysseus have pretty much switched roles in this one. Except in both cases, "Keep Your Friends Close" and "Mutiny," it was actually Eurylochus angering the gods. Another reason for what would happen in the next song.

"Thunder Bringer" is probably my favourite from the saga at the moment. The melody, Zeus' voice, the LYRICS! Personifying pride and constantly referring it to Odysseus, trying to uncover Odysseus' true nature by giving him the choice between his own life and his crew. Considering everything we know about his choices so far, we can easily agree with Zeus when he thinks Odysseus would choose himself. Every callback to the chorus of "Just A Man" hurts, and this one is no different, almost fighting against Penelope's voice. While the soldiers remind him that he's become the monster, his wife offers relief from the suffering. His choice is obvious. The countless betrayals, his tiredness from all the years of war and travel... All he wants is to be welcomed home with open arms (reference intended). But wow, the final exchange between Odysseus and Eurylochus- Odysseus sounds so damn desperate and scared, and Eurylochus resigned to his fate. The truth is revealed. "Deep down, I would trade the world to see my son and wife. I'm just a man."

#epic the musical #epic the thunder saga #jorge rivera herrans #rant #music ramblings #greek mythology #odyssey #odysseus #eurylochus

86 notes · View notes

sitpwgs · 5 months

Note

I truly can’t pinpoint when/what exactly changed about Taylor’s fans/fandom but the last few years (especially the midnights release) has really soured things for me and it’s honestly quite disappointing as someone who genuinely enjoys her music and thinks she’s a great artists. how did we get to the point of not even being able to voice an opinion about taylor without being crucified online. or if heaven forbid you dislike a song/album or enjoy the work of one of her exes (john mayer, the 1975, calvin harris, etc)

i’ve always been very fascinated/intrigued by the relationship between celebrities and their fans. and i think it’s really interesting to look back and think about how taylor built her fanbase by making herself as palatable/relatable/approachable as possible. like secret sessions, t party/loft 89/rep room, swiftmas, lover diaries, etc — all of which allow for fan interaction — but also relies on people getting noticed which then in turn encourages people to be as vocal? extra? whatever it is. which then feeds into the "who is a bigger / better fan" competition. i'm speaking from personal experience here, as someone who has liked her since debut — but i think a lot of this is also rooted in how much of the world hated taylor swift prior to ... i want to say folklore, really — like it was deeply uncool to like taylor swift, to be a swiftie, etc. and because a lot of that early criticism was rooted so much in misogyny, i think fans felt the need to (over the years) defend her — and i was one of those! i still am, when i feel like people are criticizing her unfairly. but i think that lends into the "taylor swift has never done anything wrong, and she's perfect and if you disagree then you're against us and you're a fake fan" mentality.

and then i think there's an element of ... not necessarily a superiority complex, but a something among fans who have met taylor. it's a genius marketing move, intentions aside. taylor's music is very personal — and taylor's marketing, and persona is very personal, in a way that other artists prior to taylor weren't, i think. relatability sells. you can see it in the way that people talk about her, and her music. which is very different from the way people talk about other artists — and obviously there isn't anyone else out there with the amount of fame/popularity as her, but you don't see the same amount of fanfiction-writing personal-life-speculating-projection onto other artists' lyrics as you do with taylor. and i think that when someone is that vulnerable with their thoughts, it makes it easy for people to think that they know them personally.

and i think that — as much as i love taylor — it's important to talk about her white woman feminism mentality. and i think that also seeps into how her fanbase interacts with her. the ginny & georgia "joke" is what comes to mind the quickest, but there are countless instances of taylor's white woman feminism — and her benefiting from it. and obviously it was in her right to call out a misogynistic comment, especially one directed at her, but not saying anything when the actress got so much hate for a line she didn't write ... made me feel a bit 🥴. it's interesting to see who taylor will choose to align herself with, i guess is all i'm saying.

i've really taken a step back from taylor — not just because the fandom is exhausting ( the amount of things i've seen about her, joe, travis, etc. is ... something! it's all projection! we do not know anything about these people other than what they choose to show us! ) but also because of her saying that she wanted to be on the right side of history and then over and over again choosing to be increasingly passive and silent. she will call herself an ally but won’t even talk about queer rights; she won’t talk about the literal genocide that’s going on. gun control, abortion rights, anything at all. it's just "go vote" but even that is incredibly passive. but she will take time to remind us to buy new variants, and to stream her music, and that her ex sucks.

i think there was a huge shift that started with folklore/evermore, just given that there weren't a lot of albums being put out during that time, the overwhelming public reception to it — a lot of people who previously didn't care for (or disliked) taylor started to like her, to give her a second chance, etc. then we get into the rerecordings era/midnights/etc., which started off with fearless and nostalgia and then became "how quickly can i put out the next thing". and bailey @placeinthisworld posted this earlier, which i fully agree with. it's about the next award, the next milestone. it's just all quantity. it's overexposure.

and then we have the joe alwyn breakup and the public response to that was also ... interesting. like i saw people crying over it, or saying that love is a lie, removing things from their playlists, acting like they were the ones who had been broken up with. which is just ... odd, given that we aren't the ones in the relationship. and now there are all these comments about being a "joe defender". and then with taylor dating travis, it feels almost like some weird american pipe dream unfulfilled fantasy for so many people — the singer and the american football player. and obviously, i want her to be happy! i don't care who she dates! but i do think the public reception about her and travis has been ... incredibly odd, and i think that the way people talk about her and travis is just ... very ... off-putting and is very rooted in some weird ... stuff. "she finally gets to be small :(((((" is such a weird thing to say. it feels like there's even more projection and self-insert-y stuff with her dating travis, which is a level i did not think was possible from her fans (and more so, the general public).

i have not felt this ... detached and impassive about a taylor release, ever, and it just makes me incredibly sad because i love her music, and am excited about the work, just not excited about the public reception, the public autopsy of her and joe's relationship, or the noise, and i know that internet spaces (and spaces in general) are what we curate, but it's also difficult when she is everywhere.

#so sorry this took so long to reply to! i was out of town!#post: answered #ts critical

89 notes · View notes

mendeshoney · 11 months

Text

apple of my eye, take a bite

A/N: surprise surprise! this is a part two to "a taste of the devine," with a special little halloween twist! to my lovelies, @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech happy halloween babes! the title is inspired by lyrics from the song “eve” by precious pepala

Summary: You and Andrei go to the team Halloween party at a club, and it takes Andrei down memory lane.

Pairing: andrei svechnikov x f!reader

Word Count: 5,120

Warnings: five year age gap, older woman x younger man, fluff, previously established dynamics (including msub x fdom dynamics, switch, mdom x fsub dynamics), smut, semi-public sex (in a club), hints of biting/hickies, penetration, finish inside, unprotected sex

Russian terms used (bearing in mind the author does not speak Russian and definitely Google’d these) can be referenced here.

“I feel like this won’t make much sense,” Andrei quietly mumbles to himself, adjusting the ‘hat’ of his costume, his eyes casting to the side once he sees movement from inside the closet.

The sliding frosted glass door is closed, so he can only see your shadow as you move around, and he can feel himself start to get antsy.

You’d kept your part of the couples costume a shrouded secret from him, claiming you wanted to surprise him.

As far as surprises go, he typically liked yours a lot, but given his current predicament, he found himself a little more anxious than normal.

He glances at himself in the vanity mirror in your shared bedroom, running a cursory hand over the fuzzy material of his Halloween costume, and frowning a little at his reflection.

“Kroshka, I don’t-” He starts, cutting himself off and turning back toward the closet when he hears the sliding door open.

You finally emerge, body in an emerald green mini dress that you’d sewed fake vines onto so that they curled and twisted around your figure, enhancing your silhouette, vines trailing down your shoulder and around your arms until they rested delicately on your wrists. Those beautiful legs of yours donned a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly.

You looked a lot more like that character that Evgeny used to tease him for having a crush on when they were kids, Poison Ivy, than you did the biblical Eve.

Sukin syn.

Andrei’s hard in seconds, heart pounding furiously as his stomach flutters.

Babochki, he thinks. Butterflies.

He laughs suddenly, feeling nervous out of the blue.

“What do you think?” You ask, turning your body a little so he can get a better view.

“I think there’s butterflies in my stomach,” he says honestly, the words coming out faster than he can process, but when you flush deeply, he feels a twinge of satisfaction.

“You still have a way with words, don’t you?” You tease, trying to look anywhere else but him, and he knows that strategy.

Sometimes, when you’re not sure how to receive his compliments, you try to brush them off, but tonight’s not a night Andrei can let that fly.

He can feel his hands twitching at his sides, and his feet are moving towards you before he even realizes, that familiar gravitational pull too strong to resist.

“Ty vyglyadish' krasivo, lyubov' moya.” He murmurs. You look beautiful, my love.

You smile at his words, his hands coming to rest on your waist and pull you closer. “Spasibo, malysh.” You finally seem to take in his costume, and you giggle lightly. “You look so cute!”

He frowns, brows pinched together. “I’m glad you think so.”

You smile, giggling a little more. “Of course I think so.”

“Remind me again why I couldn’t just be ‘Adam’ for Halloween?” He asks, fingers playing with a fake vine on your shoulder.

“Because no one cares about Adam,” you remind him gently. “The story’s about Eve and the Apple. Adam’s just there.”

Andrei pouts a little, turning back toward the mirror and staring at the apple suit that covers his upper half, the red hat on his head with the apple’s stem and a little leaf, and the dark brown pants on his legs. “I guess so,” he laments, then turns his gaze back to you.

You know him so well at this point that when the corner of your mouth quirks up in a small smile, he isn’t even surprised, and just smiles right back at you. “Don’t worry, shchenok, everyone still thinks you’re sexy.”

“I don’t care about everyone,” he says without a second’s hesitation. “Just you.”

A small flush works its way up your neck and cheeks. “I still think you’re sexy, too.”

Andrei’s heart pounds then, that familiar disbelief that he was able to call someone like you the love of his life surfacing in his chest. He bends his head, pride surging through his veins when you accept his kiss.

“We should probably go soon,” you murmur against his mouth.

Andrei hums, shrugging. “Or we could stay home. Have our own little Halloween party.”

“Not an option, I’m afraid.” You say, and pull yourself out of his arms to head back into the closet. He watches, completely entranced, as you pull on a pair of thigh high velvet stiletto boots, the color matching your dress perfectly, and he can feel himself start to tent in his pants.

“Kroshka,” he tries again, the word nearly getting caught in his throat, “Are you sure we can’t just-”

You cut him off by standing, grabbing your small clutch and his car keys, tossing a curt “Let’s go, moye yabloko” over your shoulder as you head to the garage.

Andrei glances at himself in the mirror one last time, offering his reflection a long-suffering sigh, before grabbing his wallet and trailing after you.

His teammates don’t laugh as much as he expected, which he supposes is because out of all the costumes tonight, he looks the least ridiculous.

Jesperi, Teuvo, and Sebastian are dressed as Alvin and the Chipmunks - Jesperi was elected to be Theo against his will, Teuvo gladly accepted the role of Simon because it meant he was the smartest, which left Sebastian as Alvin, who claimed it was only fair since his last name began with an ‘A’ - Freddie, Anti, Jacob, and Brett dressed up as Michaelangelo, Donatello, Leonardo, and Rafael from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Brent was dressed as Sully from Monsters Inc, and those were just the costumes he managed to figure out on his own.

There were far too many others for him to keep track of or understand and some were just a headache to look at, so he ended up focusing on the one thing he knew would keep his attention - the way your ass moved in your dress as you walked through club toward the VIP section they’d reserved for the team party.

The girls complimented you on your outfit and assured Andrei that he looked cute instead of silly, and it only made him feel marginally better.

He was still dressed as a giant apple for the night, after all, while his bombshell of a girlfriend looked like a walking fantasy.

After you’d said hello to everyone, the two of you ended up separated, the girls heading out to the dancefloor, some of the guys heading to the bar to grab drinks and snacks, and the rest settling into the VIP section.

Andrei plopped down between Jesperi and Freddie, removing his costume’s hat and putting it on the little table in their section, tuning out most of the conversation happening within the first ten minutes and instead finding himself focused on you and that beautiful dress out on the dance floor.

His eyes were glued to you as you danced, lost in the familiar way your hips moved and how carefree you were. Other people may have needed a little bit of alcohol in them to be so uninhibited, but you didn’t. You never had.

Watching you now, it reminds him of the first night he met you.

It had been earlier this year, when the guys had been having a particularly rough week of games, and they’d gone out to a club to relieve some stress.

You’d been there with some of your friends, and Andrei had been feeling a little bit too confident after a few drinks. He’d locked eyes with you barely ten minutes after he’d arrived and couldn’t take his eyes off you the whole night, couldn’t seem to find the need to wander more than ten feet out of your orbit.

He finally found the courage to approach you after Martinook had all but threatened to send Freddie after you first, pushing off the bar and heading over to you.

He tried the gentlemanly approach, introduced himself properly by taking your hand, and from that first touch there was this crazy electric wildfire of sexual tension that neither of you seemed to be able to deny. You didn’t seem disturbed by him being five years younger than you, and he couldn’t have cared any fucking less about you being twenty eight.

He worried for maybe half a second about you not being able to understand him through his accent, but you had no problems with it, even beyond the blaring music of the club. Then, he offered to get you a drink or a bottle of water - whatever you wanted really, he didn’t care - before asking if you minded if he joined you for a dance.

One dance became two, then four, then six, and then the next thing he knew, you both had locked yourselves in a storage closet down the back hall of the club and he had you pinned against the wall, his jeans and boxer briefs around his thighs, your dress hiked up to your waist, thong pulled to the side, and his cock buried so deep inside of you that you had to bite down on the meaty flesh of his shoulder to keep from crying out too loudly.

You’d fucked twice in that closet before you took him back to your place and fucked another two times. In the morning, you’d managed to contain yourselves in the shower, but Andrei lost all restraint and licked your pussy on your kitchen table until your throat grew hoarse and your legs shook so much your table started to squeak.

He managed to rein it in and take you on a date two days later, and then you invited him out for dinner another three days after that. After about ten dates without any sexual interactions at all, and about a month in total of you actually knowing each other, he’d asked you to be his girlfriend, and you both celebrated when you said ‘yes’ to him by locking yourselves in at his place and fucking like bunnies for about two days.

Andrei had learned everything about what you liked in bed in that first month, and you’d learned everything about what he liked.

You’d also learned enough about one another that Andrei was pretty sure he’d end up marrying you and having about five or seven kids within the next seven years, because there was no possible way he’d ever manage to find someone as brilliant as you ever again.

And at this point, you’d barely been dating a year.

He’d say he was probably moving too fast in any other circumstance, but he was pretty sure you were on the same page.

He feels a nudge in his side, and Andrei glances over, momentarily shocked because he’d completely forgotten his friends were dressed in costumes, and the orange fabric around Freddie’s eyes nearly scared him shitless for a second.

“You want another drink? The chipmunks lost a bet so they’re buying for the night.” Freddie says, gesturing to where Jesperi had gotten up and was now writing down orders on his phone.

“Sure,” Andrei says. “I’ll take one.”

Jesperi points to where you are on the dance floor and asks Andrei “One for her too, right?”, and when Andrei nods, Jesperi gives him a thumbs up before stalking over to the bar.

He has a feeling it’s going to take Jesperi awhile to put in the drink orders for the whole section, so Andrei resumes watching you, reminiscing on the day you first met and chiming in on the conversations around him every now and again.

You finally wander over with the girls once the drinks arrive, and Andrei immediately opens his arms, feeling content when you settle into his embrace and onto his lap. He hands you your drink, careful to keep your hair out of your face when you take a sip.

There’s a sound of fake retching, and you and Andrei cut your eyes to where Jesperi’s making faces at the two of you. You roll your eyes, settling into Andrei a little more, and he wraps his arms around your waist, securing you to him.

“Jealous, KK?” One of the other girls asks, and Jesperi’s nose scrunches.

“Hardly.” He scoffs. “I’m basically watching my older sister make out with one of my best friends. It’s disturbing.”

Andrei feels you stiffen in his arms, but Jesperi’s already turning away, and Andrei squeezes you gently. “Zajka?”

You turn to Andrei, a slightly stunned expression on your face. “I…does he really think of me that way?”

“What way?” Andrei asks, bringing a hand up to gently caress your cheek.

He can see the shock starting to settle in a little more. “Like an older sister?”

And though Andrei knows they’ve never really talked about it, because it’s not really a topic that would come up, he knows for certain the answer is yes.

Especially after the way you looked after everyone during the beach trip this past summer, all Andrei heard for weeks during training camp and preseason was how much everyone missed your cooking, people asking how you were doing, and demands for him to bring you around more.

Since you’d barely been together for six months at that point, he didn’t push you about it at all because he didn’t want you to feel pressured or rushed, even though he knew you liked everyone just fine. It was another thing he felt like would make it feel like this was going too fast, even though you’d probably be on the same page about this, too.

“I think a lot of them think that way.” He admits. “Pretty sure Freddie thinks of you as a younger sister. Burnsy too, to be honest.”

There’s a thoughtful look in your eyes now, and after a beat, you nod. “I didn’t know that.”

“Is that…is that okay?” He asks, slightly unsure. He doesn’t know that he’s seen you this…contemplative before.

You turn to Andrei, and give him that dazzling smile of yours he loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. Just took me by surprise a little.”

He nods, sitting up a little more so he can press a kiss to the base of your neck. “They love you as much as I do.”

Andrei’s surprised when his kiss makes you shiver a little, and he pulls back a bit, raising a brow at you.

You flush, suddenly bashful. “I just…” He raises a brow when you seem to be trying to find the words to say, and you gesture with your head towards the dancefloor. “Feels familiar, doesn’t it?”

Realization hits Andrei and he smiles, nodding. “It does, zajka.”

A sly, cheshire smile works its way onto your lips, and Andrei feels his heart begin to pound in anticipation. “Let’s see just how well you can tempt me a second time, moye yabloko.”

You’re downing the rest of your drink and getting up from his lap faster than he can blink, and then you’re heading back out to the dancefloor with the girls.

As Andrei watches you walk away, he catches the wink you send him over your shoulder before you disappear into the crowd, and he smirks to himself.

Da nachnetsya igra.

Let the games begin.

Drink in hand, Andrei makes his way through the crowd, his puffy apple costume coming in hand by parting the crowd a little as he moves - he even has the ridiculous hat on again - until he finally reaches where you are in the middle of the dance floor.

He taps gently on your shoulder, and when you turn around, your eyes look up at him curiously, a small smile on your face.

Andrei leans down so you can hear him better, saying “Hi, I couldn’t help but notice you earlier, and I thought I’d introduce myself and bring you a drink.”

It’s not exactly what he said that first night, but it’s close enough. So what if he skipped a few cheesy lines?

You lean back a little, staring at the drink in his hand before taking it with a small amount of hesitation. “Thank you,” you say back, leaning in like he had. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”

“I’m Andrei,” he says, holding his hand out.

You take it, shaking it once when you tell him your name in return.

The nostalgia has those butterflies resurfacing in his stomach, and he tries his best not to smile like a total idiot. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You say, then smirk a little at his costume. “You know, I’m pretty sure I was warned to stay away from you.”

He laughs a little, stepping closer into your space. Bending down so he’s right next to your ear, he rests a hand on your waist and says “One bite won’t hurt.”

At your responding chuckle, Andrei feels goosebumps ignite on his arms. “I’ve heard that before.”

“It’s different this time,” he promises. “It’s just us. And there’s no punishment.”

“Sounds a little too good to be true,” you say, pulling away a little and taking a sip of your drink, blinking up at him from under your lashes.

Andrei rights himself, shrugging. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?” He gestures with his head towards a hallway that he’d confirmed about ten minutes ago had both a storage closet as well as what looked like an unused office full of boxes, but still came equipped with a couch and a perfectly solid desk.

He makes his way toward the hall, waiting for all of five minutes before you appear in front of him, the glass your drink was in now empty save for the cherry stem he already knew had a knot in it.

“Fancy seeing you here,” you joke, taking careful steps toward him.

He holds a hand out, pleased when you take it, and he leads you toward the end of the hall. The door to the storage closet is on the left, and the door to the empty office is on the right. He places you in front of him, his hands resting on your waist from behind.

“Pick a door, zajka.” He says softly.

You hum a little, taking a step forward. You open the door on the right first, but there’s a small noise that leaves you, and Andrei’s confused when you don’t take a step inside. You open the door to the left, and the second you see the closet, you spin around, smiling wickedly at him before pulling him inside.

He flips you the second he crosses the threshold, shutting the door and locking it before pinning you against the wood, placing his arms on either side of your head. “Didn’t like the office?”

You shake your head, tilting your chin up, waiting. “Not the same.”

“I would’ve liked fucking you on the desk.” He admits, the image of it still fresh in his brain.

“You didn’t fuck me on a desk till I moved in with you.” You remind him.

He smirks. “Oh I remember,” he promises. “Hard to forget the time you made me come so hard I almost passed out.”

You shrug. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

He drops one of his hands from the door only to bring it up between you, running a finger down the side of your neck, to your collarbone, your chest, before teasing at the neckline of your dress.

“If you rip this dress before you get me in your bed, moye yabloko, you’ll be sorry.” You warn, but even so, your back arches off the wall, pushing your chest into his touch.

Andrei smirks. He’s never been one to shy away from his punishments.

Instead, he trails his hand down your dress and to the hem, pushing it up your thighs until he can reach under it to bring his fingers to your core, pleased when he finds the fabric of your thong already soaked.

“May I, moya koroleva?” He asks sweetly, eyes focused on where his hand lingers.

You nod, breath hitching a little when he pulls your thong to the side and runs his finger between your folds. “I want it like the first time.”

Andrei blinks, eyes darting back up to your face.

That first night was intense - and beautiful - but also not the kind of sex the two of you have most often. He likes to please you, likes taking his time warming you up or worshiping you the way he’s learned that you like best. Other than the occasional quickie, you two rarely ever just get straight to it.

“Can you take me like this? Right now?” He checks.

“I can,” you say. You reach forward, fingers finding one of the belt loops of his pants and pulling him forward. “Please, malysh. I don’t want to wait.”

His heart beats hard against his ribcage.

It’s rare that you’re the one pleading for him, that you’re the one asking for it this way, and he can feel the way his breath starts to stutter as he tries to maintain his composure.

The second he nods in agreement, it’s a race to get inside of you.

In a hurry, the two of you work to unbutton and unzip his pants, shuffling them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. His aching cock springs free, and before you can reach for him, he’s bending down to lift you up and pin you against the wall, helping to wrap your legs around his waist.

He balances you in one arm as you press your weight into the wall, reaching down to line his cock up to your entrance. The second he can feel it catch, he presses in at the same time that you angle your hips downward, and he pushes until he’s seated all the way inside and his hips press yours against the wall.

You take a gasping breath, head lolling back as your eyes squeeze shut, arms flying to his shoulders and nails digging into the skin as your pussy grips him tightly.

“Zajka?” He asks, worried. “Are you okay?”

You nod, breathing harshly through your nose. “Move, malysh, spasibo. I need you.”

Andrei has a sudden feeling he’s going to have a hard time trying to remember to breathe if you keep talking.

Carefully, he pulls his hips back until just the head of his cock rests inside, and then he pushes back inside in one brutal stroke that seizes the breath from your lungs once more.

“Just like the first time,” he reminds you, before setting a rough and steady pace.

Your moans fill the room in seconds, and Andrei doesn’t care anymore about who can hear you or who can’t.

Especially when he knows you couldn’t care less about it either.

This time, you’re not at Freddie’s house and worried about making a good impression.

You’re here, with him, pretending like it’s the first night you met all over again, except this time there’s less to be cautious of for both of you.

Although…

If you do want it like it’s the first time again…

“You can’t moan too loud, kroshka.” He says, pressing in closer to you as his strokes slow a little, dragging himself in and out of you with precision. “Don’t want anyone to hear how pretty you are when you’re dripping on my cock, do you?”

Recognition flashes in your eyes like a bright flame, and you capture your lip between your teeth, nodding obediently.

“Need something to bite down on, my beautiful Eve?” He murmurs, gathering you up in his arms and pushing until he’s flush against you, tilting his head to expose his neck. “Do it, it’s okay.”

You wind your arms around his shoulder and lean forward, and when Andrei feels your lips on his neck, his whole body shivers, groaning at the way he can feel your teeth bite down before licking over the wound, then sucking a bruise into the skin.

That’s another thing the two of you don’t give a shit about anymore.

Andrei’s all too proud to wear your marks like a badge of honor, so as you suck on his skin, feeling his pulse beneath your tongue, he knows you take notice of the way his cock drives deeper into you.

He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to manage a second round in this closet, too desperate to fill you up and then drag you home so he can do it over and over again.

When his hips stutter a little, you finally pull away from his neck, leaning back to examine your work, smiling proudly. “Such a pretty little thing, moye yabloko.”

Fuck.

It is just like the first night all over again.

Andrei remembers the dirty things you whispered to him then, too. He remembers how he’d never heard something so sultry, so sexy in his entire life. It somehow made him hornier, made him feel like he could go insane with how much it made him need you even more in that moment.

It was like you knew exactly what to say and what to do to drive him insane, to make him feel like he would do anything to prove to you just how good he could be.

“You’re the same good boy you were that first night, too,” You taunt again when he doesn’t respond, and a sharp hiss falls from his lips when you tug his hair harshly, prompting him to tilt his head up so he can look at you.

His knees nearly buckle, and he thrusts hard into you once in warning.

“You can’t say things like that,” he breathes out, focusing on fucking into you in deep, hard strokes.

“Why?” You breathe out, bringing your hands from his shoulders and tossing the hat of his costume off of his head before sinking your fingers into his hair.

He shakes his head. Any other man might be embarrassed, but that’s never been a thing between the two of you, and especially not when you’re being intimate.

“It makes me…u menya babochki.” Andrei admits, trying his best to stay focused. I get butterflies.

“Babochki?” You ask, tone just shy of a whine, slightly mocking him. “Do I give my pretty shchenok butterflies?”

He looks up when he feels your hand on his cheek, staring into your eyes, and he can feel himself getting closer to his orgasm just looking at you. You run your thumb over his lips as they part, resting the pad of it on his tongue before his cheeks hollow, sucking gently on the digit.

You smirk, eyes rolling back in your head when Andrei gives a particularly hard thrust, causing your back to arch a little more and your body to press further against his. He can tell you’re getting closer, can read all your little tells.

The way your chest starts to heave, how he can see your nipples starting to poke through the fabric of your dress, the way your body starts to go lax, thumb slipping from his mouth and hand moving to rest on his chest instead.

“You gonna come for me?” You ask, tone somewhere between taunting and begging.

Andrei nods furiously, welcoming the molten lava spreading across his spine as he finds solace inside of you. “Da, moya koroleva.”

“Gonna come inside of me?” This question is definitely a taunt. “Gonna fill up the pretty stranger the very first night?”

“I did it once,” he reminds you. “I’d do it again, but only for you.”

Your blinding, satisfied smile takes over your face and Andrei feels his heart fall to your feet in adoration. “Come with me,” he begs.

You nod, tilting your hips a little until he’s hitting that beautiful spot inside, and your eyes flutter shut, pussy squeezing tighter around him.

He loses all control after that, cock pounding into you in a frenzied, nearly manic pace, trying so hard to keep going for you while also chasing his own orgasm.

When he feels you lock him in that familiar death grip, your come drenching his cock and making the slide oh so right, his eyes squeeze shut, and a loud, satisfied groan leaves his mouth as he throbs, spilling inside of you until he feels like he can’t breathe right.

For a moment, the two of you can only remain like that - you slumped and sated in Andrei’s arms and his hips pinning you to the wall.

When he feels you begin to squirm, he carefully pulls out of you, then sets you back on your own two feet as gently as he can. He’s quick to locate a stack of paper towels behind him and grabs a few to help you clean up before pulling your thong back into place and tossing the paper towels into a trash can near the door.

“Do I look okay?” You ask, fussing with your dress.

Andrei nods, letting out a content sigh. “Beautiful as always. What about me?”

When you glance up at him, Andrei’s expecting the same, but then you blink, and a surprised laugh practically barks out of you. It startles him a little, and your hand is flying to cover your mouth, eyes glistening with delight.

“What?” He presses, starting to fuss with his own costume. “What is it?”

“Drei, how hard did you come?” You ask through fits of giggles.

“You said like the first night, so pretty hard.” He admits, unashamed. “Why?”

“You’re…you’re…” You can barely say it through your laughter. After a second, you take a deep breath, calming yourself, and then smile at him happily. “You’re as red as an apple.”

If he - apparently - wasn’t already red, he definitely would be by now.

“How bad is it?” Andrei asks, rubbing at his face absently.

You shrug. “No better and no worse than after a shift on the ice.”

He pouts, brows furrowing. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad.”

“It’s normal,” you explain. “It might be tough to explain away when we say goodbye to everyone in a minute, but it’ll be alright.”

“We’re going home?” He asks, already excited.

You nod, shrugging your shoulders a little. “Pretty sure that’s what we did the first night, too.”

He smirks, stepping closer to you and pulling you to him by your waist. “We did a lot of things that first night. And the next morning.”

Your own cheeks flush now, and you nod. “That we did.”

“Feel like a trip down memory lane, kroshka?” He murmurs, already leaning down.

You rise up on your tiptoes, lips brushing against his when you say “I think that sounds lovely, malysh,” before kissing him softly.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov smut #carolina hurricanes #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #mendeshoney masterlist

259 notes · View notes