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littlelovelyra · 3 months

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A Moment in the Weave (Fall of the chosen chapter 2)

Chapter two of the Gale xx Durge Female Tav (named)

Summary: After defeating the goblins and freeing halsin you and your party decide to rest before heading back to the grove. Gale invites you for a moment in the weave and some desires are shared in your connection.

"Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms. They promise things to come.”

Notes: Second chapter! I've been trying to give them a slow burn, I feel like this wont last very long because EVERY TIME I write from Gale's perspective its like hes telling me to just LET HIM KISS HER. So… maybe next chapter ;D

Warnings: Violence, Fluff, cuteness, slow burn, let me know if ive missed anything

AO3 if you prefer

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Gale:

As you and your companions journey back to the goblin camp Astarion matches his pace to yours, you glance at him puzzled as to why he is walking with you.

“So, you and our dagger-happy friend have been… close.” His eyebrow arches suggestively as he waits for your reply. “Do I detect some sexual tension? Because if you need some tips Gale I’m more than happy to teach you a thing or two-.” You hold up your hand stopping him mid-sentence.

“Astarion. There is no sexual tension, she is my ally… my friend. It may not come naturally to you but helping people is not as taboo as you think it may be.” You pinch the bridge of your nose as you talk in hushed tones with the pale elf.

“Oh, then I suppose you don’t mind if I make my move, hmmm?” His smile is cunning like he’s trying to bait you into a trap.

“If she wants you to make a move then who am I to stop her? I am certainly not her keeper.” At this point, you have chosen to keep your head forward ignoring his petty games. As you slow your pace you notice Astarion has moved forward to walk beside Kyla. He wasted no time in making his move. You think to yourself, slightly irritated and very frustrated. Out of curiosity you quicken your pace and listen to their conversation.

“So, Darling, how are you faring?” He places his hand on her arm, gently squeezes it and puts on his charming smile. She turns to him returning his smile with her own but it does not quite reach her eyes.

“As well as I can be. Is there something you need, Astarion?” Her tone is matter-of-fact and displays no interest in small talk. You softly chuckle as you watch him shake his head and excuse himself. As you walk past him and lock eyes you raise your eyebrows at him, Astarion scoffs at you, rolls his eyes and mutters something about him still having a better chance with her than you. Interesting. You think to yourself. Without thought you find yourself now walking beside her.

“Gale? Did you need something?” She turns to you and touches her hand to your arm. Her voice is soft and mildly concerned.

“No, no I’m alright. I wanted to check in with you to see if we need to discuss anything before we arrive at the goblin camp.” You bring your other hand to touch hers softly, assuring her you are okay.

“Oh, no I think we all know the plan.” Her brows crease as she gets lost in thought as she stares at your hand.

You lower your hand and the two of you walk in a comfortable silence. After about thirty minutes of walking side by side, you arrive at the entrance of the goblin camp.

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Kyla:

You make your way through the goblin camp towards the doors and enter the stronghold. It’s not long before you spot Priestess Gut waiting at the altar. After a brief conversation, you convince her to take you to her private quarters. This might be easier than you thought.

You waste no time unsheathing a dagger from your boots and pinning it to her back. “Say one word and I will kill you. Swiftly.” You whisper in her ear your words sound excited and you feel a wave of adrenaline course through your body. “How good it feels to press a blade to a creature’s skin again…” The thought rushes through your mind as your perception turns hazy. Your head twitches slightly to the left as a smile spreads across your face. You bring the blade up and swiftly run it across her neck and the sound of her gurgles sends electricity pulsing through you. Your vision blurs and a high pitch ringing starts sounding in your ears as the body drops to the floor.

“Kyla… Kyla…Hey!” You feel warm hands on your arms shaking your body, they travel up your face gently cupping either side and you feel their thumbs sweetly stroking your cheeks. “Hey… come back to me… there we go… hello.” Your vision slowly refocuses and you see Gale’s concerned face come into focus. His eyes have darkened with worry as he stares into yours.

“Did I… did I blackout?” Panic twists your stomach, and your heart feels like it will beat out of your chest. Gale continues to hold your face, lazily running his thumbs across your cheeks, and your pulse slows. You raise your hand to touch his, close your eyes, take a deep breath, and ground yourself. When you open your eyes and meet his gaze, you see it has softened back to his usual rich brown.

“Well, yes, but at least you took care of the Priestess so… well done? I guess? If there is ever a time for those… urges to take over it is best when we are dealing with our enemies.” He tries to relax and a smile spreads across his face. His smile always makes you feel better.

“As… touching as it is watching this moment unfold with the two of you, need I remind you we still have two targets left and the entire bloody goblin camp. You can continue eye fucking each other later.” Astarion throws his hands up dramatically and then drops them at his sides.

Gale’s cheeks flush, he clears his throat and takes a step back from you trying to compose himself. “You have such a way with words, Astarion. I can see why everyone finds you so irresistible.” Gale bites back as he makes his way out of the room, the rest of you following his lead.

As you make your way around the building, Astarion stealthily cuts open all the war drums in preparation for the upcoming fights. And you finally come across a room with the Drow, named Minthara.

You quickly knock out Minthara and tie her to the table. Before leaving the room, you give the restraints a hard tug to ensure they are secure. Satisfied, you nod to the group and move on to the hobgoblin.

As you enter the room you notice that Dror Ragzlin, the hobgoblin, is performing a speak with the dead ritual on a deceased Mindflayer on the floor. You nervously look to your companions and harness the tadpole’s powers to sabotage the hobgoblin’s questionings. You easily infiltrate and influence his mind, stopping him from gaining evidence against you.

Talking with Dror Ragzlin has proven to you that this is a situation where the art of persuasion would not work. You mentally send a note to your allies to ready themselves for a battle through the tadpole’s connection.

Gale slowly moves to the side of the Hobgoblin, glances at you and gives a small nod asking if you are ready to initiate battle. You nod your head in response and Gale wastes no time.

“Detono!” Gale yells as a thunderous wave knocks Dror Ragzlin off to the side sending him spiralling down a crevice. “Haha!” Gale exclaims loudly turning to you, his eyes beaming with pride. To the right, you notice a group of goblins heading towards the war drum and you ready yourself to interrupt their plan.

“I don’t think so! Perure!” Your voice calls out as a loud crack rips through the room and a ripple of blue lightning strikes down all three goblins. Turning back around you watch as a male sneaks up behind Gale, you grab your dagger and fling it towards him. It glides swiftly across the air and as it hits its target he releases a huff of air and falls back. Gale spins around looking at the male on the floor, turns to look at you and you notice his face is several shades paler. You wonder for a moment if he thought that blade was meant for him.

You fight your way through the main area of the building where Priestess Gut’s thrown was and make your way to the cell where the druid is being held. A large brown bear breaks down the gates squashing a goblin underneath the heavy iron just as you clear out the last of the creatures in the room. The bear throws its head back and shifts out of form into a very large elf. Your eyes widen at the sheer size of him, you have NEVER seen an elf this big. The gods must have smiled on him the day he was born because surely this was some divine intervention. You feel Gale peer over at you as he clears his throat ripping you from your thoughts.

The large elf holds your gaze as a charming smile settles across his face. “You must be Arch Druid Halsin?” You can feel your cheeks flush as he continues to hold your stare. “I’m Kyla, we were sent by the Grove to find you.I heard you are an unmatched healer, we need your help.”

“Yes, I am the Druid Halsin, pardon the viscera, one should cherish all of Nature’s bounty but goblin guts are quite far down the list. Not only do you speak with a bear but you free it too? Haha, a true friend of nature or perhaps a lunatic. Either way, I owe thanks.” He extends his hand towards you, closes his eyes and a golden glow appears between you. The light disappears and worry settles over his features. “Oak father preserve you child, you’re infected, aren’t you? The Mindflayer’s spawn, but somethings different. You’re aware of the monster inside you, you don’t bow to the Absolute like the true souls do. How is this possible?” He watches you carefully.

You take the time to explain all that’s happened as you show him the artefact. “You weren’t speaking lightly when you said you needed help.” He says his voice sounding grim as he explains his findings on the tadpoles. “I’m sorry to say I can’t undo that magic, I can’t cure you. But that doesn’t mean I can’t help. I’ve heard that they send their captives to moonrise towers and they return as servants to the absolute. If you want to find a cure, you must head there to discover how the tadpoles are being manipulated. I will join you.”

“The grove needs you. I’m afraid Kagha, driven by desperation, has been led down a darker path with the shadow druids.” You say softly breaking the news.

“I feared Kagha would take things too far, I’ll deal with her once I return to the grove. I will meet you there and we can discuss the next steps later.” Halsin shifts his form as you nod in response and you watch him leave.

“Did anyone else think he is rather large for an elf?” The words leave your mouth absent-mindedly.

“Large is an understatement.” Astarion chimes in. “I mean did you see his arms??” His facial expression almost seems bewildered.

“I think you would be blind if you didn’t notice his arms.” You feel your cheeks flush at the thought and from the corner of your eye, you see Gale shift uncomfortably as he clears his throat.

“Yes we get it, he’s massive. Can we please just clean out this camp and then get some respite? It’s been a long day.” Gale pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes, and you feel the subject needs to be changed.

“You’re right Gale. Let's clear out the camp and get some rest.” You pat his arm affectionately

Ridding the camp of the remaining goblins was easy, especially after befriending the ogres as they gladly came to help and had their fill. Before journeying back to the grove, as a group, you have decided it is best to rest here making sure no other threat arises.

You enter the goblin camp building again, check on Minthara and she is no longer there. On the table, there is a note that says:

“You forgot about Misty Step, fools. When we meet again, you will die.”

Placing the note on the table you tell yourself that this is a problem for another day. Right now, resting seems like a great idea. You have taken out the entire camp and you are definitely feeling exhausted. As your companions set up their tents for the evening you notice that Gale is conjuring up a spell of some sort and it peaks your interest. You walk closer to his tent and notice that he has an image of a woman's face hovering over the palm of his hand.

“Pretty.” Your voice is soft as you approach him.

“Oh! My, you startled me… I was miles away” Gale’s brow scrunches slightly.

“Is everything alright?” You make sure not to pry further about the face he was looking at but you hope he would explain further.

“Just pondering what I lost. Mystra commands all magic. Salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withold. And yet, even now, more than I fear losing my own self and soul, I fear losing my command of her art. Magic is… my life. I’ve been in touch with the weave as long as I can remember. There’s nothing like it. It’s like music, poetry, and physical beauty all rolled into one and given expression through the senses… perhaps I can show you what I mean, by reaching into the weave together?” Gale holds your gaze, you take in the soft richness of his brown eyes and the glint of passion that dances around them as he talks about the Weave.

“By all means, I’d love to.” You smile at him enthusiastically and watch as excitement spreads across his face.

“Then follow my lead.” He confidently positions himself next to you. He moves his hands fluidly and a purple wisp of light shimmers. “Now you.” He turns to you and gestures for you to begin.

After watching his movement, you manage to replicate the same purple light however your hands do not move as gracefully as his. A familiar feeling settles in the air, like a kind word and a kind touch at the same time, it feels warm and comfortable. As you turn to Gale his rich brown eyes are swimming with pride at your success.

“Excellent! Now repeat after me: Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.” His voice is commanding yet smooth.

“Ah-Thran Mystra-Ryl Kantrach-Ao.” You imitate the same tone as Gale but again, you cannot quite reach his expertise. The scent of rosewater and a sense of well-being envelops you, a sliver of the weave tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Very good! Now I want you to picture in your mind the concept of harmony. As true as you can.” His pride swells as you watch the excitement on his face.

What is harmony? This is something the hole in your mind cannot reconcile. As you close your eyes you begin to think of a moment in which you felt harmony. One memory springs forth, it was the moment Gale held you close in his tent the night you lost Alfira to your urge. Although you had done something terrible, in that moment, everything faded away.

Suddenly waves of purple light encircle you and Gale and you sense the unmistakable presence of Mystra. There is something like the anticipation of a kiss, then the pleasure of being cloaked in peace.

“You did it. You’re channeling the Weave! How does it feel?” Gale chuckles in unbelief and awe as he eagerly awaits your reply.

“Magical. Sensual even.” Your face flushes.

“Oooh I know.” Gales's smile turns subtly sultry. You feel the back of his hand brush against yours and a wave of heat runs through your body. You turn your head to steal a glance and find him already looking at you.

As you stand there connected in the warmth of the Weave, the moment feels intimate and you linger a while longer. It is a beautiful night for intimacy you think to yourself as you and Gale gaze at one another. The weave is making you one, all you have to do is imagine your desire and Gale will know it. Your eyes fall to his lips and a thought flitters across your mind. You picture kissing him tenderly and then with passion. Before you can tame the thought you watch as Gale’s face turns a deep red.

“I… I didn’t think…” he trails off as you watch quick-fire gusts of embarrassment, apprehension and finally… elation. “Sorry, I wasn’t expecting… But it’s a pleasant image to be sure! Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome.” There is a moment where he lingers forward and before your lips could touch the Weave evaporates, and as it does the night feels cold and suddenly empty.

“Oh, there it goes. How easily things slip away from us, no matter how hard they were in obtaining. Goodnight, I enjoyed sharing a moment of magic with you.” He places a soft kiss to your cheek and enters his tent.

You stand there placing your fingertips where his lips made contact with your skin, still feeling the slight tingle they left. You close your eyes and hope that perhaps one day you will know his touch and a twisting nauseating pain churns in your stomach “Weak. To love is weak. Disgusting, you my child should know better.” The voice drowns the once peaceful moment you shared with Gale and you vow to yourself again that you will end these thoughts. They will not consume you, not when you feel so alive.

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Gale:

How petty she is, ruining a perfect moment the way she did. You had almost kissed Kyla, once you learnt that she too felt the same pull towards you… your lips were so close but Mystra ripped the moment away from you the minute she dispelled the Weaves presence. She knew what she was doing, you felt her presence. It was her reminder that you could never have Kyla no matter how deeply you wanted to. The orb within you wouldn’t allow it. You curse yourself for the thousandth time of your folly. Greed, power and… “love” was what got you here… Love… if you can even call it that.

How you wish you could take it back because, for the first time in your life, you feel as if someone genuinely cares about you. Kyla has been so attentive, even in the slightest shift of your mood she is at your side asking you if there is anything you need. She is so nurturing, which makes her urges all the more difficult to understand. How can someone as caring as her have such dark thoughts? You were not certain what the answer may be but you know that for her, you would walk down the darkest paths of Faerun if it meant saving her.

You need to find someone to assist you with this orb issue, now more than ever. However, on the other hand, you know you have to have caution. One wrong move and it could mean the orb detonates. As you lay there with your thoughts it takes a while for sleep to find you but eventually it does and your dreams are filled with tender moments between you and Kyla.

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As the morning sun peaks through a slight opening of your tent you are awoken from your slumber by the sound of Kyla’s voice outside your tent. “Gale? Are you up?” She respectfully lingers outside waiting for a reply.

“I am indeed, is something the matter?” A wave of anxiety hits your chest and you pray to whatever gods are listening that she hasn’t murdered someone else in her sleep.

“Everything is fine… I… I made you a cup of tea.” Her voice trembles with nerves and you smile at the sweetness of it all.

“Come in! I was just thinking of tea. You must have read my mind.” You call out trying to compose yourself and tame the childish grin painted on your face as she enters your tent.

As she enters you notice she must still be in her sleepwear. Your heart stirs seeing her half asleep and comfortable wearing the shirt you lent her. She hands you one of the two mugs she is holding and you gladly accept the hot beverage. She lingers a moment as if unsure if she should stay or leave.

“Please, take a seat, some company would be nice.” You give her a warm smile and she sits opposite you. “Are the others awake yet?” You ask and take a sip of your tea.

“Not yet, it’s still quite early. I thought I should allow them to sleep, it was a long day yesterday.” She smiles sheepishly as she realises what she has just admitted to. And you can’t help but smile knowing she wanted to spend time with you.

“Listen, Gale, about last night, in the Weave… I’m sorry if what I pictured offended or… startled you.” She bites her lip nervously as she lowers her gaze.

“Offended? Gods no. I consider myself very lucky to have found you. I could not stop thinking about last night. That moment we shared… it meant a great deal to me. A stolen glance - that sudden heartbeat… Sometimes the little things are worth more than kingdoms. They promise things to come.” Your voice is low keeping this moment between yourselves. You watch her cheeks flush and a small smile appears on her face.

“I like you very much, Gale.” Her voice shakes as she taps her mug nervously with her fingers.

“Well, Gale Dekarios, likes you too. Very, very much.” You want to kiss her but your concerns over power your need to feel her lips against yours. Instead, you reach your hand over and tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear running your thumb along her bottom lip. Another flush stains her cheeks and you use every ounce of restraint to hold back.

You hear conversations outside your tent as the rest of your companions have woken up and are making their way to organise breakfast. With a nod to Kyla, you signal that the two of you should join the others. Before exiting the tent you take her by the hand, pull her in for a hug and bury your face in her hair inhaling her scent. She smells of vanilla and lavender. You feel her nestle her face onto your chest just like she did the night she stayed in your tent after what happened with Alfira.

You need to tread carefully, it’s not the right time to make a move with her. She deserves you at your best and right now you cannot give her your best with this orb in your chest. You have to wait until this is sorted. You are determined to do anything to rid yourself of this.

Hopefully, she will wait for you.

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wordsinhaled · 2 years

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so @landwriter added a headcanon to dream's beautiful 1889 letter to hob (which is now on AO3! go show her some love!) and said, "But when Dream meets Hob at The New Inn—or more precisely, the moment Hob looks up at him and says, "You're late,"—he feels so happy just to see Hob, be near him, so terrifyingly bowled over with it, that the prospect of driving him away is suddenly an unthinkable risk"

and i... lost my entire mind about that, so *throws this at everyone*

The ache, the sting. The feeling of settling.

For how easily Dream would settle into this valley, this antediluvian dell where Hob sits, surrounded by papers and books and pens and a snifter of brandy, here under the low lights of the inn Hob has built for him. For them.

The softness of Hob is unbearable, the sweep of his hair and the slow melt of his eyes when he looks at Dream. To hear the cadence of his voice is to slip into a reverie of comfort: no sharp edges here, only the shards of Dream’s want digging in under his ribs. He wants to sit and listen to Hob Gadling talk for hours, days, weeks, years. Wants to drink in the shape of his words and feel them drip into the cracks of him like honey, like glue, like lacquer dusted with gold to put the pieces of Dream back together again.

He had been starved before; a hundred thirty-three years have made him ravenous. Dream would touch him if he could, to know that he is real and not a shade—though if Hob is a ghost then let Dream be haunted, let him be utterly possessed! Oh, how Dream would learn the old and the revised lines of him, rehearse his soliloquies and whisper his asides, for the joy of knowing Hob by rote.

Hob had called him friend so long ago, a blink of an eye ago; and is it not still true? Verily, are they not friends?

Yes, he could live lifetimes in Hob’s friendship, make a home of it, clothe himself in Hob’s kindness; each afternoon with him another pebble dropped into the chasm that is Dream’s desire. (Given enough moments, enough brief stolen seconds, he might one day suffer to forget those unplumbed depths.)

#spoiler he WON'T FORGET #:))))))#the sandman #dreamling #god just the thought of dream spending over a hundred years in that glass cage and the balm hob must feel like #has me losing my mind

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cherry-alive · 7 months

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This post is primarily aimed at people who followed me here from my main blog, @honeysuckle-venom, where I've talked a fair amount about having DID. If you don't know me from there this may not make sense, and also really isn't necessary to read. If you do know me from there it's also obviously not necessary to read, but here's the post I wanted to write about C and about where we are in recovery and about this blog

I have tried literally over ten times to write a long post explaining more about C and how she woke up from over a decade of dormancy and how she fits into our healing and what this blog is about, with no success. I just can't seem to do it. So. I'll do my best with what I can share without a thirty page backstory I'm not comfortable giving.

The very very very edited cliff notes version is that for Trauma Reasons we had to dissociate and split off a lot of our sweetest, softest, most joyful, and/or most feminine traits, all of which were very present in early childhood but not allowed to be present as we got older bc of trauma things I don't want to talk about. Those traits got split up somewhat, Eloise had some, the Dolls had some, etc, but the one who had the most/had a combination of all of that and more is C. C is also possibly the core/original, she's really really connected to who we were as a young child and who we feel we are at heart in a very special way that is distinct from everyone else, even Luna who we thought had been around the longest. C went mostly dormant when we were 11, and entirely dormant at 16. I did not know about her, not really, and to the extent I did I thought she was genuinely dead. As I've continued to heal in therapy I've noticed that I've had increasing desires to get back in touch with some of those traits that I was forced away from. Accepting Eloise, starting to accept the Dolls, and slowly realizing and acknowledging that I identified as femme were all really important steps for me. Eventually as I explored the concept of my femininity in therapy sessions, my therapist said something that ended up waking C from dormancy. That was about a year ago. With her came a huge rush of feelings and memories I'd completely lost, and a whole new capacity for joy and recovery and healing that I didn't think I'd ever have. We remembered that once upon a time, we didn't understand cruelty, we didn't want to hurt or manipulate anyone. We loved fairies and magic and flowers and art and cooking and the natural world. We loved pink and purple and sparkles and lace. We listened to birdsong, we were kind and friendly, we were gentle and warm. And we could be that way again, and take joy in it again. We realized that she is in some ways the most central part of us, and embodies a lot of who we want to be and who we feel happiest and most whole as. But she's very vulnerable, partially because she's so central and so directly tied to some very key trauma, and there was also a lot of old trauma things at play that make us very nervous to publicly talk about or show her, and/or to act in the ways that she wants and that make all of us happy, like embracing softness and femininity more. That still feels very very dangerous to us, but also every time we do it and get a positive response instead of further traumatization in respose it is deeply healing and it just feels so true to who we want to be in a way that is really healthy. So gradually we've been sharing more and more when it feels safe, and we finally reached a place where sharing the url of this blog with people from main felt like a potentially positive and healing step, where we could embrace the things C likes and that we all like publicly and try to fight some against the shame and fear we feel whenever we want to act softer or reblog pink things or what have you. It's really scary still honestly but it also just feels so validating and good to be able to be myself in this way, when for decades I tried to repress a lot of these traits as much as possible. So. Yeah. That's why we made this blog and why we finally decided to share some more about C/what she likes, because it's honestly stuff I like too and I don't want to be afraid or ashamed to wear something pink and pretty or have heart shaped kitchenware or just embrace the softest gentlest parts of myself anymore.

There's. So much more here/more to C and our backstory with this stuff but I think that's what I can share for now. But also I'd like to be able to talk more about some of this stuff, I just don't have the words yet/don't know how. So if you have any questions about this post or this blog or whatever feel free to ask. I might not answer, but I also might because it might be helpful rather than just trying to write something without a prompt

#text post #my post

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tangiblejournal56 · 1 year

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6/29/11

Six-thirty in the morning & I am wide awake. Missing Max with a dangerous longing like a current come to wipe away any other thought. Again complimenting each other all through the night. I told him how I believe he could one day surpass Bukowski, as he has something our beloved poet lacks, “A different outlook. A relatability, a sense of sympathy for the human race,” I told him. We discussed his trying to keep his artistic rage fresh, & his choosing a life of unhappiness in order to continue making art. I told him that was noble & as an appreciator of his work I want him to struggle so as to keep his art churning, but as his friend, I would rather he be happy at the cost of his art.

“Oh you. I hope you’ll always be there no matter what I do,” he responded, words I thrilled at. So frequently since I’ve left he’s found ways of telling me how much I mean to him, something I always crave. I do so despise that part of myself, that I should need regular reminders of the affection I already know is there, but never do I seem to get away from it. So I try to write down all of these so-rare reminders, so I may pour back over them when my confidence wavers. I said to him that I hope always to be there on the sidelines of his life, getting to see it unfold. He said I will be. I want so much for this to be true. I crave sitting across from him in a restaurant, listening to whatever thoughts erupt from that mind so inimitable, to be watching some movie he’s drowning out with his running commentary. That tenderness when he’s drunk, the softness he displays to me only, a self he has hidden to the rest of the world. How if I cannot be his love, I am at least his confidant, his confessor, his champion. I am the reason he does not feel so alone in his night, & seemingly no amount of my fucking up can entirely push him away. Our pseudo-relationship has surpassed even the length of time I was with Ryan, & has all but cured me of my longing for that person. Now I just long for my burning artist, & know with total faith that he treasures having me at his side, always fighting for him. Though I cannot entirely quell this desire to believe that perhaps one day his love for our friendship will grow into a romantic desire for me, & then we could be together despite the opinions of his family & friends like Sara, who don’t know me anymore. I know it is unrealistic, especially with a man like Max, so set in his ways. But the hope remains. I worry one day that hope will ruin what we’ve built, but it hasn’t so far. I still fret for the day he finds a replacement for our days together, our nights. I will mourn that loss beyond imagination. A blow larger than Ryan, a total sinking of the self. But I will not contemplate it, I know where that train of thought leads. I also refuse to fantasize about the next time I’m with him, I cannot place the burden of expectation on his already-weighted shoulders. I want to be indispensable to him, but not at the expense of what calm & comfort he can forge. The intense longing for things to be different, you can’t imagine the struggle. If only we could’ve met now rather than in high school. A clean slate. He’d be more closed off, but I believe I could break the reserve, & everything would be like now, except that he could love me, & I would know how to love him in return. Maybe then everything could be perfect, neither of us would be all alone in any area of our lives.

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mellowyandere · 4 years

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Erasermic “Just tell us what you like darling.”

Reader: F

Characters: Aizawa Shouta, Yamada Hizashi

Summary: You’d been stuck with the two pro heroes for a couple of weeks now but have yet to open up. Can’t you see they’re just curious?

Length: 4K

Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, M/M/F, slight bondage, aphrodisiac, oral sex, vaginal sex, slight praise kink.

You sat curled up on the far end of the couch, eyes glazed over as you watched the TV in front of you. A half-baked sad excuse of a porno disguised as a movie was playing. The plot was flimsy at best and you couldn't care less, but movie nights weren’t optional.

Hizashi and Shouta were cuddled up closer to the middle of the couch than you’d prefer. You could feel their eyes flickering between you and the shitty movie. Currently the female lead was bent over the male leads extravagant kitchen counter getting railed out of her mind. Her wanton moaning was starting to get on your nerves.

“Soooo.” the blond broke the silence. You peered over at him and couldn't help but roll your eyes as he waggled his eyebrows. “What kinda stuff you into baby girl?” With the degrading quality in movie’s Hizashi had been picking for the three of you to watch you had a feeling he was up to something.

“Not whatever this is...” Shouta snorted at your response, pulling Hizashi closer to keep him from migrating over to you. The dark-haired man was fully aware you were on edge, still not having settled into your new life yet. His boisterous partner on the other hand was dying to get to you, his patience much shorter than his sleepy counterpart.

“Aww I thought you’d enjoy this one! I mean she sure looks like she’s enjoying it. Ever been fucked over a counter?”

You couldn't help but choke a bit at his question. The man had been getting more and more pointed in his attempts to unravel your sexual escapades and desires. “I-It’s hardly any of your business!”

“Come on babe no need to be so shy! Sho and I are here for yah, whatever you want or need we can give!”

You felt your blood boil a bit at his proclamation. The fucking nerve this man had to say you could have whatever you want after kidnapping you.

Shouta noticed your face scrunching up with anger. Hizashi noticed too, but was so desperate for something besides your passive aggressive moping he'd take anything.

But you weren’t interested in giving them any reason to punish you, so instead you quietly stood up from the couch.

“I have a headache so I’m going to go lay down. Don’t bother me.” You hesitated for a second. “Please.” Within your two weeks here you had learned manners got you pretty far with Shouta, allowing you to push the boundary between rude and polite.

Peeking over at the two you saw Hizashi struggling to sit up, but Shouta held fast, pulling him close and murmuring something in his ear. The blond frowned, sharp green eyes narrowing in your direction, but he relaxed into his partner.

“Take it easy kitten. Let us know if you need anything.” You cringed at the sleepy pro’s pet name but took the chance to leave before they changed their minds.

-----

“I told you those shitty movies weren’t going to work.”

“Yah never know Sho, I thought maybe she’d see us all cuddled up like love birds and want to join after watching something steamy! Not my fault she’s so damn shy.” Hizashi was pouting now.

Shouta hated to see the normally, annoyingly, enthusiastic voice hero like this. Thankfully he had been mentally working on a plan for a while now. Your problem was not only were you shy, but you were so self-conscious you lacked the courage to ask them what you wanted. It was on him to work it out of you. The issue was getting you in the right mood. He knew it would take months before you came around, and if it was just him that would be perfectly fine.

But his sulking partner wasn't going to last that long, and he’d end up doing something to push you further away from them. No, they were going to have to get you to come onto them. What he had in mind made his gut churn a bit in guilt, but if it worked then it would all be worth it.

“Hizashi stop whining. I have a plan to help get her out of her shell.” Hizashi sprang up, emerald eyes wide in delight. “Oh oh, tell me tell me!”

Shouta smiled softly at how fast the man could bounce back. “I had a feeling we were going to need a bit more than movies to encourage her so I had Kayama get me an aphrodisiac. She has troublesome pets of her own so she was more than happy to help out.”

Hizashi was practically vibrating with excitement now. It took everything in him to not shout out in joy. “You’re a genius! So when do we give it to her, now? Tonight? The sooner the bet-”

“No. Not right now,” Shouta cut him off.

“We need to give her some time to settle down, cut it with the pornos, and use it when she least expects it. I’ll decide when the time is right, and let you know once it’s all set up. Can’t have you giving the surprise away now can I.” With that the dark-haired hero pulled Hizashi closer to him for a gentle kiss. “Just be patient Zashi and she’ll be ours willingly.”

----

It had been a little over a week since Hizashi had stopped forcing you to watch those raunchy movies. He still insisted every now and again to watch something, even asking for your own input. He had also thankfully stepped back a bit on the sexual comments and you almost felt comfortable near him.

Tonight, was yet again movie night. Hizashi was already hunkered down on the couch a warm cup of tea clutched in his hands. Shouta silently slunk in from the kitchen, he always managed to spook you with how quietly he moved.

“Here kitten,” he handed you a hot cup of tea and plopped down in between you and the blond. He opened his arms and gestured to you with a questioning eyebrow but you simply mumbled out your thanks for the tea and turned to the tv.

“Alright babes it's show time!” With that Hizashi started the movie and another uneventful night began. You sipped slowly on your tea, it was a bit hot but it felt nice in the cold house.

About thirty minutes into the movie you began to feel a bit... odd. Did you have a fever? You wiggled a bit to try and get comfortable but the burning in your gut only seemed to increase. Something wasn't right, but you couldn’t figure out what.

“You doing alright there kitten?” Shouta questioned while shuffling closer to you. He reached his hand out and gently placed it on your thigh, deep obsidian eyes glinting with amusement.

You yelped, jumping a bit as his large hand made contact with your clothed leg. Even through the fabric he was so warm, and arousal pooled in your stomach. What the fuck was going on? You jumped up, his hand falling to the soft cushion.

“A-ah I’m fine! I don’t feel so good um so... I’m gonna go rest!” You bolted, Hizashi whining in complaint as you took off. “What’s her deal,” he grumbled in annoyance. He glanced over at Shouta and suddenly it dawned on him. The cheeky smirk on the dark pro’s face giving him away.

“Come on Zashi. We’re going to follow her tonight.”

Hizashi shot up in excitement at his partners’ proclamation. A grin that showed just a bit too many teeth splitting his face in half.

“Might need this though,” Shouta murmured as he grabbed his capture weapon.

Heading upstairs the two pros found your bedroom door closed, but due to the lack of a lock it didn't stand as much of a barrier. Hizashi rushed to swing the door wide open, ready to charge in, but was halted by Shouta. “Slow it down we’ve got all night. Don’t want to spook her,” he whispered.

The blond shot him a wink “Aight aight my b,” he whispered back.

You shot up in bed when the door was forcefully thrown open, a familiar pair of green eyes locking onto you. “You doin’ alright there baby girl? I mean I know runnin’ off ain’t too weird for yah but you’ve been so good these past couple days.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled out. You were in fact not fine. You felt like your body was on fire, and your cunt was aching. Hizashi bounded over, jumping up on the bed and shuffling closer to you. You curled up on yourself, body pressed against the headboard. “Pl-please stop.”

“Aww Sho she’s so damn shy, ain’t she just the cutest thing?”

“Mhmm, the cutest.” Shouta wandered into the room, capture weapon in hand. Why did he have that?

“We’ll finish the movie in here. That way you can continue to rest.” The dark-haired pro turned the tv on in your room and crawled into bed, remote in one hand, weapon in the other. “And so you don’t try to avoid watching the movie...” With that his weapon slowly unraveled, metal alloy winding around your wrists and securing them up above you on the headboard.

“Whoa hey what are you doing! I-I’ll watch the movie I promise!” Shouta planted himself firmly on your right, while Hizashi cuddled up on your left. “Nu-uh baby girl you’ve been dodging movie night! Can’t take any chances now!” Two different hands took up residence on each thigh, Shouta’s gently rubbing circles into your skin while Hizashi’s squeezed and rubbed with a little more force. You had changed into shorts to try and help with how hot you felt, but now you were regretting your decision.

It was torture. Their hands sending tingles of electricity straight to your wet pussy and hardening nipples. You bit back a moan as Hizashi’s hand began to trail further between your thighs so he could get a better grip on the soft skin. If they noticed your uncomfortable squirming they didn't say anything about it. Opting to watch the movie while you grew more and more aroused.

This was ridiculous, you’ve never felt so turned on in your whole life! You held your tongue for fear of letting a moan slip out of your mouth.

A text notification went off to your right. Shouta heaved a sigh as he pulled his phone out of his pocket, but quickly chuckled in amusement upon opening the message.

“What’s up Sho?” Hizashi leaned in closer to you, hand moving upwards, gently bumping up against your clothed sex. In turn Shouta extended his hand towards his partner, knuckles brushing across your sensitive nipple.

You couldn’t hold back the soft moan that passed your lips.

In a fraction of a second two set of sharp eyes darted to you. You hung your head in shame as heat flooded your cheeks.

“What was that baby doll? Someone feelin’ a lil frisky?” The blonds quirk picked up a bit at the end of his sentence and rumbled through your body.

“N-no!” What was with you stuttering? You needed to assert yourself! You felt completely out of control of your own body.

“Oh reallyyy?” With that Hizashi bumped his knuckle up against your clit. You bucked your hips into his hand and let out a pathetic mewl.

“Zashi leave her alone,” Shouta chided the man. You looked over to him, thankful he was always the voice of reason, to feel relief replaced by fear as you saw the predatory glint in his eyes. “Come on now, Kayama sent us a cute little outfit we should buy for our kitten,” as he spoke his hand clutching the phone continued to rub against your perky bud.

The fire in your gut was getting worse, your head felt like it was spinning. Did they.. did they do something to you? Your brain couldn't block out the image of Hizashi’s slender fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt fast enough and you clenched down on nothing in response. You felt so empty.

“Please!”

“Please stop? Or do you mean please keep going baby girl?” At this point you didn’t know which one it was either. You wanted them to stop, to leave you alone. But at the same time, you needed something. You needed them.

But they made the decision for you. Pulling away both men placed their hands back into their own laps, pants a little more tented than they were a moment ago. “We wouldn't want to do anything without your permission kitten,” the dark hair hero stated as you whined at the loss of contact. Oh so they chose now to be decent human beings?

They were doing this on purpose. You felt your eyes sting a bit as tears threatened to form. Fine if they wanted to play a stupid game you'd play. Raising your head you glared at the tv, hell-bent on not giving them the satisfaction of hearing you beg.

You lasted about fifteen minutes before the burning sensation in your core went from uncomfortably aroused to painful. You wriggled about, desperate to try and generate some friction. You no longer cared that Shouta and Hizashi had turned their attention to you with quirked eyebrows and amused smiles. How fucking patronizing.

“Just say the word baby girl and Sho an’ I can help yah.” Tears were openly falling down your face now as you sniffled miserably. “Pl-please..” you whispered, shame flooding through you.

“Not good enough.” You growled in frustration at Shouta’s dismissal. “If you want help kitten, you’re going to have to tell us exactly what you want.”

You threw your head back in frustration against the headboard. You couldn’t last much longer, they were leaving you with no choice.

It took about three more minutes of them ignoring you before you couldn’t do it anymore. Little sobs racked your body at the intense heat that was pumping through your veins.

“Please!” You cried out. And then the flood gate of promises burst forwards as you tried to tempt them into saving you. “I-I’ll be your good girl. I’ll let you tie me up, dress me up, pin me down, kiss me when you want, hold me during movie nights...” you started off tame working your way to more and more explicit promises.

“I’ll warm your cocks while you grade papers, o-or suck you off, let you fuck me while I’m asleep, anything, everything! Ple-please help me I need you to.. to fuck me please.” To say the men were pleased was an understatement. They had been expecting something, but were blown away with your confessions, each one spiraling into deeper and darker desires. You deserved a reward, now didn't you?

You kept rambling, little hiccups shaking your body while you cried causing you to stutter. You had been so busy trying to figure out what they wanted you to say that you failed to notice your now free hands. Only when Shouta slid behind you did you realize the situation you were in.

Both men had stripped themselves of their remaining clothes, and made quick work of peeling off your damp shirt and drenched panties. Hizashi hunkered down between your thighs. “That wasn’t so hard now was it baby girl? Aww Sho she’s absolutely dripping.” He threw your legs over his shoulders and his hot breath fanned out against your aching cunt.

You barely registered the words he said, opting instead to buck your hips towards his lopsided grin. “Easy now kitten, we’re here don’t worry,” Shouta murmured low into your ear. Gently he bit down on your earlobe while he hands came up and began to work on your tender breasts. His solid cock was flush with your lower back, gently throbbing as you wiggled for Hizashi’s attention.

“See now ain’t it just so much better when you tell us what you want.”

“Don’t torture her Zashi come on now, she’s waited long enough.”

The man barked a laugh before delving right in, not wasting a second more. His eager tongue delved between your delicate folds, working its way up and down. You threw your head back against Shouta’s shoulder, crying out in relief and pleasure. It wasn't enough, but fuck it was something, and he was good at it.

Shouta’s fingers pinched and rolled your nipples while Hizashi began to experiment with delving his tongue deeper inside, nose brushing up against your clit. Your hands wrapped around Shouta’s wrists as you attempted to ground yourself. You had only just begun and you could already feel your oncoming orgasm, your walls desperately clenching down on the blondes skilled tongue. You had been denied for so long it would only take a little bit more.

He hummed in satisfaction as he felt you getting close, quirk sending vibrations straight to your core and you snapped. You closed your eyes as your hips bucked up against his face. He held fast, hands digging into your thighs as he eagerly lapped you up. You moaned without restraint, Shouta’s lips flush against your neck as he nipped and sucked marks into your skin.

When you finally stopped squirming Hizashi pulled away with a cheeky grin, mouth glistening with your arousal. “Fuck baby girl you already finished?” No, it wasn't enough. You needed more!

“Please, I need more..I..” “Shh don’t worry kitten, we know what you need.” The blond leaned forwards and locked lips with his black-haired partner behind you. Shouta groaned into his mouth, cock throbbing eagerly against your back. From here you could see the blondes cock as well. He had an impressive length, red tip dripping pre-cum as it flexed with his arousal.

With a free hand you reached out and gripped his enticing member, earning a surprised moan from the hero. He pulled back looking down at you with lust clouded eyes. “As much as I want to fuck you until you sing, it’s Sho’s turn. Mm but shit do those small hands of yours look good wrapped around me.” He gave an experimental thrust of his hips into your grip before pulling away. Shouta began to move as well, swapping places with the blonde. You were flipped around, Hizashi crawling under you while Shouta pulled you up and back so you were on all fours.

“I could get used to a view like this,” Shouta said with satisfaction. The blond couldn't agree more, after all he was about to get a front row seat to his partner fucking you silly. His greedy hands came up and gripped the back of your head, pulling your face down for a deep kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, but you didn't care.

With your head pulled down your ass was arched up and Shouta couldn't help but give it an experimental slap. You yelped in pain, wriggling forwards out of his grip. “Sorry kitten I just couldn’t help myself. Your ass is just so perfect.” He kneaded the sore flesh affectionately as an apology.

The burning in your core had returned full force from what little Hizashi had done earlier to ease it, and you once again found yourself rocking your hips back against the dark haired hero. With his cock in hand he began to teasingly run it up and down your sopping cunt. Not this again.

You cried out into Hizashi’s mouth attempting to pull away from him in order to force the man behind you to fuck you, but both men held your firmly in place. Shouta took a moment longer to enjoy how needy you were before giving you what you wanted, the head of his cock slowly breaching your tight walls.

Your cries of frustration turned into cries of pleasure and Hizashi ate them up. Shouta began to gently pump himself into you. The aphrodisiac and Hizashi’s prepping making you wet enough he could slam into you if he wanted, but he needed to take his time. After all this wasn’t about him, it was about you. Showing you just what he and his partner could give you, how well they could provide for your every need.

Below you Hizashi took his own cock into his hand and broke off the kiss, pumping into his fist at the same excruciatingly slow pace Shouta was fucking you. He watched the pleasure consume you, eyes twisted shut as you took his partners cock like the perfect little girl you were. As Shouta began to pick up his pace, not only did Hizashi match it, he got the pleasure of watching your tits bounce in rhythm to the sturdy hips snapping against your ass. He could die right here a very happy man.

You were babbling now that your mouth was no longer consumed by the blond hero, pleas and mewls spilling forth as you allowed the men to alleviate the burning inside you. “You’re just so fucking cute ain’t you, shit I hope you’re still needy when Sho’s done cause fuck do I want to feel that perfect lil pussy of yours.” Speaking of, the man behind you let out a groan as you clenched down on him hard when he hit a particular spot inside you, velvety walls trying to milk him for all he was worth.

“She’s so fucking tight, so perfect. Shit, I think she’s going to cum again.” Shouta leaned down, muscular chest flush against your back as he wrapped his arm around you, hand reaching between your legs to stimulate your neglected clit. You bucked back into him at the sudden sensation. Hizashi’s free hand reached up and began to tweak your left nipple, desperate to see what your face looked like when you came undone on top of him.

The conjoined efforts of the two men sent you once again over the edge, face contorting in pleasure as your walls fluttered around Shouta’s cock. Moans and whimpers tumbled from your mouth. Shouta’s hips began to stutter a bit at the sensation of your walls clamping down on him, quickly approaching his own climax.

He began to slam into you, his thick member forcing itself deep within with each snap of his hips. With his chest flush against you, and arms tightly holding you in place he finally stilled. Groans of pleasure fell from his mouth as he pumped his hot cum into you, the remedy for the aphrodisiac bringing you immediate relief. Holding your exhausted body off of Hizashi, Shouta kept you plugged with his cock in order to undo the aphrodisiac as best he could.

The sight of both of you finishing above the blond was beyond a dream come true. He had been helping himself along this entire time and couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“Fuck do I wish I had a camera both my babes cumming one after the other I’m on cloud fuckin’ nine! Prop her up and slide out for me baby, it’s my turn to help cool down our girl.”

With a grunt the dark-haired pro sat up, continuing to press you firmly to him. His cock slowly slid out and his cum immediately began to run down your thighs. He maneuvered you so you were sitting over Hizashi’s waiting cock before lowering you down.

You whined at the feeling of the slimmer man entering you. Shouta had him in girth, but Hizashi won when it came to length.

“There you go baby girl, shit! You weren’t lying Sho she’s so tight I don’t think I’m gonna last that long.”

Quickly the blond began to snap his hips up into your limp body, only upright thanks to the man behind you. Words of praise tumbled from the blond as he fucked up into you. True to his word he didn’t last much longer, the entirety of the night catching up to him as he began to cum inside you. Unlike Shouta he continued fucking his seed into you until he finally stilled.

You were absolutely spent, and a complete mess.

“Seems we made a mess in your bed kitten, you can sleep with Hizashi and I until we wash your sheets.” He began to pull you up off the satisfied hero below you, his length slipping out, causing even more cum to run down your thighs and onto the blond’s lap. Not that he minded.

“Lets get all cleaned up babes and ready for bed!” You were too tired to protest, relaxing in Shouta’s arms. Come tomorrow you had a lot to think about regarding what happened. But for now, with your body no longer burning, a warm shower sounded like heaven.

#tw: noncon #yandere aizawa #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere erasermic #yandere x reader #yandere my hero academia #aphrodisiac #yandere x you

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shemarmooresfedora · 3 years

Text

Rebuilding Family

Summary: Y/N and Spencer were college sweethearts at Cal-Tech but once Spencer got accepted to the FBI Academy, he ended things deciding it was not fair to make Y/N wait for him. When they meet again years later, he discovers something unexpected.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Masterlist

Chapter 4

Spencer’s phone buzzed in his desk drawer much to his confusion. Pretty much everyone that would be calling him was here right now.

“Dr. Reid,” he answered.

“Hey Spencer, it’s me, Y/N,” you said.

“Oh! Y/N, hi!” he looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to him before slipping away to the empty break room.

“I’m really sorry to have to ask this but is there any way you could pick Jo up from school and watch her for a few hours. A student dropped a vile of dimethyl sulfoxide in the lab so I need to safely clean it up and then make sure the room gets properly ventilated. I had to cancel the rest of class so I have to clean everyone else’s lab station up too,” you explained.

“Of course, of course,” Spencer readily agreed, “I can watch her for as long as you need but I have to finish my files here so would it be okay if she came to the office just for a little so I can finish up and then I will bring her back to my apartment. I’ll text you the address.”

“Yes, that’s completely fine. Sorry for springing this on you but my babysitter is out of town and I called JJ but she is in New Orleans with Will and the kids,” Y/N apologized.

“It’s no problem. It’s actually the opposite, I am looking forward to it,” Spencer smiled as he hung up the phone.

Spencer knocked on Hotch’s door hesitantly.

“Reid, what can I do for you?” Hotch looked up from the mounds of files on his desk.

“So I kind of have a kid and her mom needs me to pick her up from school and watch her so could she come here until I finish my work?” Spencer quickly rambled.

“You kind of have a kid?” Hotch asked, slightly amused.

“Well, she’s mine but she doesn’t know that I am her father and I just found out about her a week ago,” Spencer explained.

“If I wasn’t a profiler, I would think you were pranking me but you seem to be telling the truth. Yes, your kid can hang out until you finish your work for the day. Normally, I would just let you go early but you know Strauss has been inspecting the BAU with a fine-tooth comb recently,” Hotch stated.

“Thanks, Hotch. I’ll be back in thirty minutes,” Spencer ran out the door.

As Spencer slid on his satchel and was walking towards the elevators, he turned around and sighed. He almost forgot to tell the team.

“Hey guys! Quick announcement! I have a kid and her mom needs me to watch her for a few hours so she’s coming here. However, she doesn’t know that I’m her father so please use your discretion,” Spencer finished and bolted for the stairs.

“Kid, what-” Morgan started to say but the glass doors were already closing behind him.

Spencer didn’t have the time nor desire to fill them in on all of the details. He didn’t want to keep his daughter waiting.

“SPENCER HAS A WHAT?” Garcia screamed as Morgan informed her of the breaking news when she returned from her lunch break.

“That’s all he said and apparently she doesn’t know Spencer is her father so you have to keep your mouth shut, baby girl,” Morgan scolded.

“I will, I will. Do we know how old this kid is? What’s her name? Oh my god, who is the mother?” Garcia asked, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to my tech cave to do something totally unrelated.”

As Garcia stood from leaning on Morgan’s desk, the BAU glass doors opened.

Spencer was hunched over, holding Jo’s hand. Jo was dressed in corduroy pants, a lavender cardigan, and her hair was tied up in two pigtails that were bouncing side to side. Her converse were matching with Spencer’s.

“Well I’ll be damned, Pretty Boy wasn’t lying,” Morgan whispered to Garcia and Prentiss who had now joined them.

“Guys, this is Josephine. Jo, this is Derek, Penelope, and Emily. Can you say hi?” Spencer asked.

“Hi,” Jo responded meekly, scooching closer to Spencer’s leg, the one familiar face for her in the crowd of strangers.

“Hi Josephine! You look adorable! I love your little pigtails,” Penelope knelt down to her height.

“Thank you. My Mommy did them for me,”

Jo replied.

“Okay Jo, let’s go to the round table room so we don’t have to stay out here in the crazy bullpen. Let me just grab my files,” Spencer led Jo to his desk and then up the small flight of stairs.

The rest of the team watched in amazement as Spencer lifted Jo into one of the seats at the table and spun her around in the chair a few times as she started to giggle.

“Who’s the kid?” Rossi asked as he exited his office, having missed the big announcement.

“Reid’s daughter apparently,” Prentiss shrugged with a small smile on her lips.

“Okay, Jo! I’ve finished all my work. Wanna go to my apartment and grab some dinner?” Spencer asked.

Jo was sitting next to him, doodling with pens on extra lined paper. Penelope had also brought in some of her trinkets from her desk for her to play with.

“I miss Mommy,” she sighed.

“I’m sorry but Mommy is going to pick you up from my apartment as soon as she can. Come on, I’ll let you get whatever you want for dinner,” Spencer tried to cheer her up.

“Ice cream?” Jo perked up.

Spencer laughed, “How about we have a real meal for dinner and then we can have some ice cream?”

Jo contemplated this.

“Okay but you have to carry me because my legs are tired,” Jo explained.

“Oh-uh okay, yes I can do that,” Spencer stuttered, suddenly getting nervous that his clumsiness would result in him tripping with Josephine in his arms.

Jo outreached her hands and made a grabby motion and Spencer picked her up and rested her on his left hip, his right hip occupied by his satchel.

“Bye Josephine!” Emily smiled at the little girl.

She gave an enthusiastic wave as Spencer carried her to the elevator.

“What do you want for dinner?” Spencer placed Jo into the child seat in the shopping cart.

“Chicken nuggets!” Jo exclaimed.

“Chicken nuggets, it is,” Spencer pushed the cart to the frozen aisle, grabbing a bag of the dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets.

“How about some smiley fries too?”

Jo nodded with a smile as Spencer opened another freezer door.

“And we should probably have a veggie. How about baby carrots? Do you like carrot sticks?” Spencer questioned.

“Yes, Mommy always makes me eat my veggies or no dessert,” Jo stated.

“So if you eat all your carrot sticks, then you can have ice cream. What flavor do you want?”

“Ummm strawberry please.”

“Good choice,” Spencer smiled.

“We need rainbow sprinkles too, Spencer!” she exclaimed.

“Of course! How could I have almost forgotten!” he chuckled.

Jo yawned after scooping the last spoonful of strawberry ice cream with extra sprinkles into her mouth.

You had texted Spencer you would be there in thirty minutes but he didn’t think Jo was going to last that long. She could barely keep her eyes open.

“Jo, do you want to go to bed?”

He soon realized his mistake as tears started to form in the child’s eyes.

“Where is Mommy? She always tucks me into bed and reads me a bedtime story,” she cried.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Spencer quickly stood from his seat and hugged Jo, “Mommy is on her way but I think she would want you to get some rest so I’ll read you a bedtime story, okay?”

Jo nodded and sniffled. Spencer wiped her tears away with his cardigan sleeve. He picked Jo up, getting used to the comforting feeling of her in his arms, and tucked her into his bed.

Spencer looked around at his bookshelves full of technical books and classic novels in other languages but devoid of any colorful picture books that would interest a kid.

“How about I make up a story?” Spencer whispered.

Jo nodded sleepily.

“Once upon a time, there lived a beautiful princess and a goofy knight in the kingdom of uh- Caltechia,” he spoke softly.

“The princess and the knight were madly in love despite how the knight was so clumsy and the princess was so elegant. However, the knight went away to slay the evil dragon and both the knight and the princess were so sad to be apart. When the knight finally returned, he realized the princess had become a queen and she had an equally beautiful daughter who was now the princess. The knight loved them both dearly.”

Spencer looked down to see that Jo was fast asleep. He brushed the stray hairs off of her face and leaned down to give her a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He figured there was no harm since Jo was fast asleep and he just wanted to say it to her at least once.

About ten minutes later, a knock sounded at the door as Spencer was washing dishes.

“Hey, I knew you wouldn’t accept money as a form of payment so I got you an extra large coffee, extra sugar,” you handed him the cup.

“Thank you but that really isn’t necessary. I was more than happy to do it. I really want to do it again,” Spencer adamantly said.

“Jo has a tee ball game on Sunday. You are welcome to come and then we could all grab dinner after,” you offered.

“I’ll be there,” Spencer smiled softly.

“Um, where is she?” you asked.

“Oh she’s sleeping in my bed. I’m not exactly sure of her normal bedtime but her eyes were drooping so I figured I should put her to bed. We had dino chicken nuggets, smiley fries, and baby carrots for dinner and then some ice cream. I hope that’s okay,” Spencer whispered as he led you to his room.

“More than okay. Thank you so much. I’m surprised you got her to go to bed. The nights she has stayed at my parent’s, she refused to go to sleep for hours,” you stated as you picked her up.

Jo nuzzled into your neck even though she was still asleep. Spencer watched as you slowly made your way out of the apartment with Jo as to not wake her up.

“See you Sunday,” you whispered, giving him a soft smile.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Spencer replied.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #cm fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer x reader #reid x reader

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miscellaneous-obsession · 3 years

Note

hi!! can I request the Dimitrescus and maybe Donna reacting the first time they see us wearing a dinosaur/unicorn onesie? this just came into my mind LMAO! THANKYOU :')

I had far too many ideas when it came to this ask, thank you Anon, writing this brought a big smile to my face :)

Apologies for not posting for a week, I wasn’t very well but now I’m back and writing!!

Donna:

Poor Donna has suffered enough in life, both of fear and frights, so a unicorn onesie would be a safe bet.

As Donna potentially is a seamstress, creating delicate, ornate outfits for her friends dotted about her home, it is safe to say she would be thrilled to try making the one-piece for you, given that she has prior knowledge regarding the fabled creature.

However, if the animal is beyond her comprehension or materials are more difficult than initially thought to acquire, she will turn to the Duke’s services to procure the item with her own money, despite your protests.

With either instance, Donna will feel an overwhelming sense of satisfaction and pride seeing your frame enclosed in the onesie. Her smile behind the veil widens, reaching her eye as you radiate pure joy.

She will find herself bundled into a hug instantly, possibly one with a spin if comfortable. A huff of breath will escape her mouth when set down, choosing to hold your hand as you utter praises and thanks continuously.

And we can’t forget Angie; she will have no idea as to what a onesie is nor a unicorn, but boy, once she sees you in your own, she all but demands a matching set.

Alcina:

Finding her significant other encompassed by the soft green material, deemed to resemble a dinosaur, didn't fail to bring a smile to red-painted lips.

Lady Dimitrescu quite frankly oozes composure, refraining herself from expressing her initial reaction of a scoff or laugh, knowing how it could be misconstrued or upsetting.

Favouring her grin and need to admire your beaming expression, the lady cups your cherub cheeks in her palms. Only when you mimicked a "Rawr," typically heard when her middle child tormented staff for pleasure, did Alcina chuckle, the moment calling for joviality.

She herself would not desire a matching outfit, but she would be more than happy to purchase an abundance for you if needs must.

She is sure her daughters will catch wind of this new item of clothing, the certainty so high she has the Duke on standby with orders waiting.

Bela:

Confusion and curiosity. Both will be evident by her frozen stance as she rounds the corner.

Her response, albeit delayed, will come in the form of widened eyes and cautious steps, hands mapping the cotton-like fabric with care.

A verbal response is out of the question at first, until realisation dawns upon her that you are mimicking a dinosaur in this unique ensemble.

It is then that appreciation, particularly for the warmth it retains, is made known. Bela will not hesitate to whisk you off elsewhere, preferably a sofa or her bed, to cuddle and leech off of the heat she desperately desires.

The blonde will begrudgingly agree to have one purchased, a match to your own. Being coordinated with you, something commonplace to share with her sisters is thrilling.

Cassandra:

Cassandra will find it endearing, humorous, almost as she comes across you in a dinosaur onesie, acting fierce and ferocious.

The brunette laughs in delight as you pounce forward, making half-hearted attempts to bite her neck. Keeping you close, she holds and supports your frame in her arms, not wishing for the fun to end prematurely.

With minimal taunting and teasing, Cassandra takes your bait, seeing the creation of a challenge, a game of tag. Promised a thirty-second head start, you bound as fast as possible out of the room, struggling to accommodate your onesie with every step.

However, those spare seconds amount to nothing as Cassandra’s pace is unmatched. Rounding the corner, her giggles follow as she observes your altered gait and lack of balance, brought on by the new appendage of a tail that you subsequently stumble over.

Before colliding with the ground, Cass lurched forward, bearing the brunt of the fall. You watch as the brunette’s lips turn upward into a smile, teeth catching the light, proud to have won, “Hmmm, I think I am owed my reward, iubi.”

Daniela:

Dani squeals, rushing over instantly as she lays her eyes upon you in a unicorn onesie. Blood free hands come to caress the clothing, fingers raking through the multicoloured mane in awe.

In that very moment, Daniela will plead to hear of the fables in which unicorns exist and prevail, mirroring the spike in her curiosity and enthusiasm.

If cold, she has no qualms in attempting to share the space of your own onesie, choosing to cram her hands into the pockets or partially disperse into her swarm, a small proportion of which flit into the outfit, nestling comfortably in gaps of material.

You can bet this redhead will demand an abundance of hugs while you wear the item and will even go as far as to commission one for herself to ensure that you both are a matching pair.

After getting her own onesie, she will parade the two of you around, flouting your relationship unashamedly before the castle’s staff, grinning like the Cheshire cat with every gaze cast your way.

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peachsayshi · 3 years

Text

Chapter 7 - Games

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Teasing and a little bit of Fluff.

Summary: Trying to make sure the two of you stay out of the bedroom, you suggest playing a game of Twister and Gojo's mind starts to wander.

A/N: Sorry if there are mistakes! I don't have a beta and get tired rereading the chapters over and over again. This is a little short but we have some fluff and feels and we get a little insight on how Gojo has been feeling. I'm building up to something, I promise!

- - -

“Okay, left foot on green…”

With his right foot remaining on the red circle, Gojo spread his legs wide to place his left foot on the green circle towards the end of the mat. Things were easing up on his end when it came to work and he decided to take advantage of that by spending his free time with you tonight. What he didn’t expect was for the two of you to be in the middle of your living room playing board games instead of the usual physical activity that you both have grown accustomed to partaking in.

“Is this really how you want to spend our evening together?” he asked, taking the spinner from your hand as he proceeded to flick the arrow with his thumb and index finger.

You nodded your head, “We need to keep ourselves out of the bedroom. Otherwise, we will never leave...”

Gojo rotated his neck from side to side before replying, stretching to prepare himself for the awkward positions he was about to hold, “you’re making it sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“Listen, game night is going to make up for movie night which never happened because we wound up doing it on your couch instead...”

A smug grin spread across Gojo’s face, thinking of your failed plan to have a scary movie marathon with him. You were hoping to catch the sorcerer squirm but what you didn’t expect was him teasing you thirty minutes into the film that inevitably resulted in you being fucked senseless on his couch.

“You’re really going to put the blame on me for that? If you were paying attention you wouldn’t have succumbed to my advances so easily,” he retorted defensively.

“You had your hand up my skirt!”

“Now, I told you what that skirt does to me,” he jokingly snapped, pointing his finger at you sternly before shrugging his shoulders. “I couldn’t help myself…”

“Okay, well how about the night we were supposed to go out for dinner but missed our reservation because you decided to rip up my dress on the car ride over…”

“Let’s not get too dramatic, I merely broke the zipper and I did buy you another dress.”

“Okay, how about last night?”

Gojo parted his lips, pausing to think how the two of you wound up naked in the shower instead of going to the karaoke bar with Rina and her friends.

“Last night... wasn't my fault,” he pointed out, arching his brow at you as he recalled the way you teased him into submission.

“Oh, yeah. That’s right…” you shyly replied, biting your bottom lip as you scratched the back of your head. “So, uh, what’s my next move?”

“Quick to change the subject, I see?” Gojo answered with an easy smile, “Put your left hand on the blue circle…”

With your feet on the green and yellow circles, you leaned your body forward to put your left hand on the blue sphere. Meanwhile, Gojo dropped the spinner on the ground beside you, suppressing a laugh as he watched you struggle to spin the arrow and call out his next round.

“The point here is...” you grumbled as you tried to adjust yourself back into a comfortable position, “...the two of us are getting carried away. I just think this little break might do us some good.”

“I don’t think working up a sweat is a bad thing,” Gojo insisted.

“Well, we can burn calories after I kick your butt,” you added on, waiting for the arrow to land. “Right hand on green...”

“For someone trying to make sure we keep our distance, you sure picked an interesting game tonight,” Gojo teased, finding his new posture which brought his face close to yours.

“I know for a fact that you can’t cheat playing Twister,” you reminded, before glancing up at him from under your lashes and inching forward to peck him on the tip of his nose. “Besides, I never said I wanted space, I just thought I’d change things up for the evening.”

Gojo’s smiled into your lips as he gave you a soft kiss in return, “if you think you can distract me by being cute, you are absolutely wrong .”

“We both know how much of a sore loser you can be,” you answered back, “I just hope you’re ready to throw yourself a pity party by the end of this because I am definitely winning.”

“Mhmm, whatever you say. Right hand, blue…” he continued, trying to pay attention to the game and observing you reach your arm slightly underneath him to place your hand on the circle.

He couldn’t explain when things became this comfortable with you. If he had known that hooking up with you would bring you both closer together as friends, he wouldn’t have rejected your offer that easily.

You’ve both already broken one of your rules. However, Gojo didn’t mind forgoing the “drinking” rule to decide whether or not the two of you wanted to hook up. You both no longer needed the excuse anyway, after a while it became painfully clear that regardless of what the plans were, things always resulted in the two of you tangled up in someone’s bed sheets.

The sorcerer spent a majority of his spare time alone, unaware of how much it bothered him until you came along. He thought about the way you described yourself when you were in a relationship with your ex-boyfriend, and wondered if this felt similar in any way. Not that he considered you as anything other than a friend...but he was curious .

You both were different in many ways but often clashed when it came to your perspectives on love. You believed that there was a person out there for everbody, that there was nothing like falling in love with somebody who looked at you as if you were their whole world.

Granted, those were your opinions when you were in a happy and loving relationship but Gojo always disagreed with you because he was convinced that relationships were messy and only brought unnecessary drama to the table. That’s why he had his own personal rule that was standard practice when it came to his “love” life.

He never hooked up with somebody more than once.

Rumors about his womanising ways only stemmed from the fact that he did actually have plenty of lovers. However, he could barely recall their faces and didn’t even remember their names. Sometimes they recognized him on the street, and foolishly attempted to strike up a conversation with the handsome, rich stranger who paid for their company.

Gojo would politely brush them off every time. His stone cold reaction broke the hearts of those who were lucky enough to even be in his presence. He surely didn’t need to pay for the escorts or call girls but the act itself was easier and he had the money to spend anyway. These acquaintances never asked him any questions about his personal life, which benefited him greatly because it left very little room for anything other than small talk. Once both parties were satisfied, Gojo would leave every encounter without ever looking back. Sex was a routine way for him to blow off steam or merely take care of his natural urges. However, you didn’t know that you were the first person who he consistently kept as company in the bedroom.

Up until this moment, he had been suppressing his desire for you. Now that he has you, the sorcerer could tell he was getting greedy. He respected your wishes when you asked him not to see anyone else on the side but surprised himself when he realised that he had no interest in seeking out the strangers that used to keep him company at night.

Even though you both insisted that this new partnership had no influence on friendship, Gojo was observant enough to see that it was not the case. Little things were starting to change here and there, and he was carefully making note of it every time it happened.

For example, whenever he was off fighting curses, you started habitually checking up on him to make sure he was okay. One night when he was unable to answer his phone, he received a string of unusual text messages from you to find out what happened. He remembered calling you right after, teasing you to ask if you were worried about him. You surprised him with your fear, how you easily believed that something was powerful enough to harm him despite him repeatedly telling you that nothing could touch him. When you responded to his question with a sincere yes, an unexpected sensation spread across his chest. If he wasn’t paying attention to how much you cared about him before, he was more aware of it now.

To ease your worries, he made it a point to shoot you a text whenever he could just to let you know that he was alright. Although, he did sometimes forget which resulted in you panicking on the phone with him. Only this time, Gojo never made fun of your concerns.

In turn, he realised how fiercely protective he became of you and it killed him whenever he had to deflect your questions when you asked about his life. There was so much you wanted to know and so much that he wished he could tell you. However, he had every intention of maintaining this invisible boundary. The last thing he wants is for you to get caught up in something that you couldn’t understand. If he were to invite you into his whole world, that would only lead to you facing dangerous threats that loved to lurk in the shadows.

He would never forgive himself if something were to happen to you.

A few more rounds passed, and the two of you were intertwined in the most precarious situation. You were in a reverse tabletop position, looking like a crab with two hands and feet on the blue and yellow circles. Meanwhile, Gojo was in a plank position above you, his palms pressed on the red and green circle by your side, with one foot next to yours on a blue circle and another on a yellow circle.

You were shaking underneath him, desperately trying to maintain your awkward stance while Gojo appeared bored holding his own position with ease.

“Okay, I didn’t take your strength or height into consideration…” you groaned with a pout.

A chuckle escaped his lips, “give up, yet?”

“No…” you groaned, eyeing the spinner by your side as you reached for it with your right hand. You lifted your head slightly, your neck straining as you tried to call out the next move. “Left foot, green…”

Gojo picked up his leg but as he stretched himself out he realised that he couldn’t bend himself properly in that particular way.

Your eyes widened, watching him shake as he tried to rotate his body without lifting himself completely up off the mat.

“Or maybe your height is actually a disadvantage?” you questioned, ignoring the way your arms burned from holding yourself up as your heart raced with anticipation.

“Shhh, I’m concentrating...”

Gojo kicked his leg out one way and then the other, the comical image of his tall body in motion only made you laugh at his reaction. He tried his best to ignore the sound of your voice but knew that he could barely maintain his balance as he tried to find the green circle. However, he miscalculated the gravity of his own weight when he shifted to the left side of his body, his elbow buckling underneath and causing him to collapse.

“Yes!” you exclaimed, raising your arms up in victory, paying no attention to his body pressed on top of yours.

His face was buried in the crook of your neck, breathing in deep to inhale the scent of your soap. He felt your hand pat the back of his head lightly, indicating that you wanted him to get off from on top of you. He slowly unraveled himself, irritated by his own misfortune as he rolled onto his back to lay down beside you. He tilted his head to look at you, noticing you turn so you both were making direct eye contact with each other.

Gojo always knew you were beautiful. Nothing in this world could convince him otherwise but he never paid attention to the details of how pretty you actually were. Little things about you that made the gears in his head turn, from the gorgeous mane that sprouted on the top of your head, to the way your eyes sparkled whenever you were excited or how the curve of your lips was your secret tell to let him know exactly what you were feeling when you couldn’t find the words to explain yourself.

Why me? He thought to himself, if you wanted to fuck around with somebody then why did you ask me?

A kiss on his lips snapped him out of his drawn out thoughts, he felt the pads of your fingers along his cheek, slipping lightly underneath his blindfold to reveal just one of those blue eyes.

“Ready for another round?” you questioned.

Gojo softly smiled, thankful that you haven’t grown bored of him just yet. He lifted himself up, bringing one of his hands to cup your face as he pulled you in for another kiss. His tongue parted your lips and he allowed himself this one indulgence as he trailed his hand to the back of your neck.

Whatever thoughts that were running through his mind, he chose to ignore. There was no reason for him to consider such trivial things anyway. You were spoiling him with your body, playing out the fantasies that plagued his mind. He was aware that his greed fueled his lust for you and honestly did not know what he would do if you were to ask him to stop.

He deepened the kiss, allowing the frustrating thought to play out in passion instead. You shifted your position, your hand falling to his chest as you gripped onto the collar of his tee. Still holding onto the kiss, Gojo lifted himself upright so he was seated and as much as he would love to take advantage of this current situation, he chose to pull himself away instead.

“Best of three?”

“That sounds good to me!” you replied as you circled your arm around his neck, before returning to kiss him again.

Gojo gave in for only a second, before cheekily breaking away and tapping you gently on the forehead with his index finger.

“Oh no, you aren’t doing this to me again...” he said, his hands moving to your waistline as he gently pushed you away from him. “You wanted to have a game night and we are going to see it through.”

He leaned across from you to pick up the spinner, before settling back down and holding it in between the tiny space that separated you both.

“Winner goes first.”

- CHAPTER 8: HEAT -

#Gojo Satoru x reader #Gojo Satoru x you #Gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fan fiction #Gojo Satoru fan fiction #Gojo Satoru smut #Gojo smut #Gojo Satoru fluff #Gojo fluff #gojo headcanons #gojo x oc #Gojo x ofc #Gojo x reader insert

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Barking Up The Wrong Tree

Ransom Drysdale One Shot

Summary: It’s the Annual Pre-Easter meal at the Thrombey’s and Ransom and you are in attendance. As usual, there’s fireworks, a lot of swearing and there’s only one way you know he can get rid of his frustrations…

Warnings: Bad Language words. SMUT (NSFW) NO UNDER 18s!

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this was originally written last year for @jennmurawski13 who requested a smutty one shot with an Evans character of my choice for her birthday. It was coined from a Brainstorming sesh me and @icanfeelastormbrewing had for our intended Ransom x OFC series (we might get round to it in 2022…so by then you’ll have forgotten if we use it again.) FYI Eighteen year old Ransom is totally Bryce from Fierce People, you can’t convince me otherwise… I also very much now see this being the same Reader as in mine, @ohthankevans13 and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork’s Real Life Tasks With Ransom Drysdale series.

Your brown leather, knee high Saint Laurent boots (a gift from the man whose lap you were curled up on) were on the floor by your feet leaving you in your grey, woollen over-knee socks. One of your boyfriend’s large hands was resting on your left shin, the other just at the top of your right thigh, almost on your ass cheek. You were well aware your black sweater dress was riding up so went to shift and shimmy it down a little, conscious that you were, after all, sat in the large drawing room at his grandfather’s house whilst the rest of his family milled around as the pre-Easter dinner, which always took place the weekend before the actual holiday, was being prepared.

“You okay?” Ransom looked up at you, noticing you shift on his lap and you smiled.

“Yeah, just don’t want to flash everyone too much if you get my drift.”

Ransom cocked an eyebrow at you, then peeked around the room, before he gave a snort as his eyes fell on his cousin Jacob who was watching the pair of you.

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want Adolf junior getting a boner now would we?”

You gave a chuckle as you re-arranged your dress, making yourself more comfortable.

“He’s just a kid, Ran.” You soothed.

“He’s a deviant, Princess.” He replied, his voice quiet.

“So were you when I first met you.” You grinned, looking at him as you bent closer to whisper into his ear “Still are when the mood takes you.”

Ransom pulled back to look at you, his face inches from yours, his eyebrow raising slightly as that dirty smirk spread across his handsome face. “Stop it.” He warned, and you shrugged innocently, as he placed a soft kiss on your mouth.

“Come on son, put her down.” Richard’s voice rang across the room and instantly you felt Ransom’s entire demeanour change. Gone was the relaxed, jokey, happy Ran you knew and loved and in his place was Hugh Ransom Drysdale, asshole extraordinaire.

“Piss off, Father.” He shot back, his head moving back from yours, fixing his dad with a steely glare.

“Hey.” Richard glowered “Don’t speak to me like that…” he turned to Linda. “Did you hear that Linda?”

“Ransom…” Linda said lazily, not looking up from her phone. “Don’t speak to your father like that.”

Ransom rolled his eyes and you gently looked at him, shaking your head, silently telling him to stay calm. It was always the same with the Thrombey family gatherings. Ransom despised them for the simple fact that Harlan was the only one he had any time for, bar his mother on a good day, and you were inclined to feel the same way. It always ended in chaos, each individual nuclear sects within the extended family trying to get one up on the other, prove they were the best players in the game.

Frankly, they made the fucking Lannisters look normal.

All your friends were constantly asking you how you managed to stay tangled in this web of dysfunction, but the answer was right in front of you, his crystal blue eyes now narrowed as he shot a sarcastic reply back to his mother.

The simple truth was, you loved him and couldn’t walk away if you tried.

It hadn’t always been that way, mind. When your High School had been asked to submit nominations for the coveted position of Harlan Thrombey’s Summer research assistant, you’d been short listed along with 15 other candidates from the New England area. Each of you were asked to produce a five-thousand word thesis on a literary subject of your choice to be submitted for reading by Harlan. You’d been ecstatic when you received the call from his Publishing Company to say you’d made the final three and were requested to attend an interview.

You’d been and bought a new suit. Nothing fancy but decent enough quality. You made sure your hair was tamed, your make up was as on point as you could get it, and had driven the thirty minutes or so out to his mansion from the home you shared with your Nanna in Brookline, following the directions on your GPS to the area near Pierce Park where the Thrombey Mansion was located. You were greeted by his housekeeper and shown into the large office where the man himself was waiting. Harlan was nothing like you had expected him to be. He was eccentric, sure, but also dmaned good fun. He’d asked you a few questions about why you wanted the position “I’m going to major in English at college and I hope to work in publishing when I graduate, this would be an invaluable experience.” He had then discussed your paper with you and after a few more general questions he had reduced you almost to tears of laughter by telling you a about an incident when he had been at college and was almost caught climbing down the trellis of his girlfriend’s parent’s house following a late night rendezvous of the very naughty kind “Don’t think too badly of me, we ended up married for forty-seven years…”

Then, just as he was showing you out of his study a tall, well-built young man, your age you had correctly guessed, with a strong jaw, dark hair flicked to the left side of his forehead, and a pair of the bluest eyes you had ever seen, waltzed down the hallway. He was dressed in a pair of riding breeches, a polo shirt and wore a long pair of tan leather riding boots.

"Ransom?” Harlan looked at the young man “I wasn’t expecting you till this afternoon.”

“Yeah well, the fucking horse I should have been riding is lame.” Ransom shrugged “Which means I can’t ride, and I probably can’t compete this weekend.”

“Dressage?” you had asked, your mouth speaking well before your brain had engaged, for some reason thinking it was a good idea to comment. Ransom had looked at you with disdain, scanned you up and down and cocked his head to one side, his eyes cold as they locked onto yours.

“Polo.” He had answered, a sneer on his face “Do I look like a dressage rider to you? Mind you, from the state of your cheap high-street dress the nearest you’ve probably ever been to a horse is those shitty little trail rides they run at kids parties.”

“Ransom!” Harlan had snapped sternly “Enough!”

You felt the heat rise in your neck and cheeks, and you drew yourself up to your full height, folding your arms as you looked at the ass hole stood in front of you. One thing your Nanna had told you was that, despite your humble origins, you were as worthy as the next person, no matter how much money, status or self-importance they may have.

“My apologies. I always thought polo was played by arrogant, snobby, stuck up pricks.” You retorted as you made a show of looking him up and down in the same way he had done to you. “Actually, on second thoughts, I should have guessed.”

As soon as the words were out of your mind you let out an internal groan. Way to go, flush your chance of landing this summer internship down the fucking toilet by insulting Harlan’s grandson. Nevertheless, you held the gaze of the man in front of you who stared back, his expression and face utterly stoic bar the blink of surprise his eyes made.

You heard Harlan chuckle behind you and the old man dropped a hand to your shoulder. “Fran, could you see Miss Y/L/N to the door.”

Two days later Harlan had personally called you to offer you the position, and it had turned out to be everything you ever wanted, and more. Three weeks into your internship, to your utter surprise, Harlan confessed that he had been looking to fund a worthy, local candidate through college and as the successful applicant it was yours for the taking. Some strings had been pulled, and in the last week of September thanks to his generosity you started your English Major at Harvard.

And so did Ransom.

He pursued you with a dogged determination, seemingly viewing your indifference towards him and his advances as some kind of challenge. You weren’t fooling yourself, however. He was devastatingly handsome and your traitorous vagina and that part of your brain that controlled your libido harboured a deep desire to fuck his brains out, a desire you finally gave into at the end of your first year when, following your final exam, you got drunk and woke up the morning after in his bed.

It wasn’t all puppies and roses though. You were on and off more than his boxer shorts, as simply put, Ransom was a player. And it didn’t bother you to start with. He was a hook up, a way to relieve tension when you needed to, and he was a very handy person to know with his seemingly endless network of connections. But by the time you graduated you knew you were head over heels for him, and needed to break this seeming cycle of being in and out of his bed. So you turned down Harlan’s offer of a job at Blood Like Wine and were ready to move away from Boston after landing a job at a publishers in Manhattan…but then your nanna had been taken seriously ill and suffered a stroke meaning you had to stay.

As a result of her illness, your nanna was unable to live in your house in Brookline alone and so you were forced to sell it so she could afford to move into a supervised Retirement Village a five minute or so drive away. You were now jobless, drowning with the house-sale which would leave you homeless, and your emotions and been all over the place. You had no other family since your Grandfather had died at the start of your senior year so had no one to turn to.

Enter Hugh Ransom Drysdale.

You’d called him one evening, drunk and emotional and needing a release and he came over alright, but instead of fucking you into the mattress he made sure you drank water, ate something, and then got you into bed. The next morning, Harlan had shown up, telling you the job offer at his company was still open, and then to your utter surprise and initial horror he had offered to buy your nanna’s house, meaning you could remain there as a tenant. At first you had refused, insisting you weren’t a charity case but Harlan had simply waved your concerns away by insisting it was an investment. After a little discussion he agreed to allow you to pay rent which, all things considered, was a pittance in comparison to what other properties the same size in that area commanded but it was a rent nonetheless and made you feel better.

And you knew all of it had ben Ransom’s idea.

This was the side to Ransom he very rarely displayed to anyone. A softer side, a caring side, a gentle side. A side that held you as you cried at the thought that your nanna was growing old and may soon leave you behind, a side that made you a sandwich when you hadn’t eaten in days, a side that helped you pack up and move your Nana’s stuff to her new home, a side that turned up at 9pm with several tubs of ice cream and a bottle of wine after you’d messaged him earlier that afternoon to tell him what a shit day you were having when his Uncle Walt was being a dick at work.

The rest, they say is history. History which meant you were now curled up in his lap some eight or so years post that initial meeting in the hallway of this very house, listening to him bicker with his family, feeling his leg beginning to shake in that way it always did when he was agitated.

“Ran…” you said gently, squeezing his arm and you felt him take a deep breath and he looked at you, his mouth closing as you shook your head “Don’t.”

He turned away, looking to the other side of the room and his face glowered as he spotted Jacob once more had his eyes trained on your bare thigh. God the pubescent creep did his fucking head in, and if he stayed here he was going to end up putting the lanky streak of shit through the wall.

“Can we go?” Ransom looked at you, tucking your hair behind your ear.

“We’ve not even had dinner yet.”

“Please.”

That single word was enough to make you understand. It was a word he hadn’t learned until he’d met you, when he realised that his demands and arrogance got him nowhere with you. He still rarely used it mind, but when he did, you knew he was in desperate need of what he’d asked for.

“How about we take a walk?” You suggested “If you still wanna go after then we will”

He took a deep breath as he considered what you had said. Compromise was another word that hadn’t been in his vocabulary until you. His eyes locked onto yours and you looked at him, encouragingly and he took a deep breath, nodding.

“Okay.”

You uncurled yourself from his lap and stood up, him following so you could sit down and place you boots on.

“Are you leaving?” Linda asked, looking up for the first time.

“For a walk.” Ransom said simply, grabbing your hand and pretty much dragging you from the room. He didn’t say a word as he reached the coat stand and retrieved your lightweight Ted Baker belted mac, holding it out for you to slip your arms into, in a display of chivalry he reserved only for you. Once you’d done it up, he took your hand in his and you headed through the kitchen and outside into the reasonably mild April afternoon.

“Don’t let them get to you.” You said softly, leaning into him a little and he sighed, untangling his fingers from yours so he could drop his arm round your shoulders. He hated the fact his family could make him feel like this, like he wasn’t in control, like he was insignificant in the grand scheme of things. He could quite happily go without seeing any of them, well, bar maybe his grandfather, but you had told him he would regret it if he pushed them away completely because you had always wished you’d had a large family unit like that. So, despite the fact he knew deep down that was a load of bullshit, he played the game. He attended the damned gatherings more for your benefit than any as you adored Harlan and seemed to get on fairly well with Joni, Meg and his mother. He hung onto a glimmer of hope that maybe one day it would all change and he’d feel part of it.

But it never did. And he never did.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence across the Mansion grounds, round the lake where Ransom stopped by the small pier, looking out over the water.

“You know my most vivid childhood memories are of this spot.” He mused, his gaze focussed over the lake “Grammy used to bring me down here to feed the ducks.”

“It’s beautiful down here.” You agreed, snuggling further under his arm. “Peaceful.”

“Yeah unlike that fucking house.”

You gave a chuckle, as his hand curled over your shoulder, absentmindedly rubbing over the smooth material of your coat. He was agitated, you could tell, and there were very few ways in which he could calm down when he was like this. One was riding his beloved BB- a polo horse Harlan had bought him for his 21st, one was the pair of you curling up on the sofa with snacks and a good scotch or bourbon, getting drunk and watching Trashy Films, in particular horrors-you both loved to pick plot holes and insult the main characters, declaring the victim a dumb bitch for running up the stairs and not out of the door and the other, well…

You glanced around, checking you were alone before you pulled away from him, taking his hand and tugging on it slightly.

“What?” he asked looking down.

“Come on.” You gave his hand another pull.

“Y/N?” he questioned again, but followed nonetheless despite you not answering. You tugged him away from the lake, into the thin thicket of trees a little further round. You could still see the house here but you knew there was no way anyone from up there could see you.

“Seriously, Y/N what the fuck?” he groaned, as he stepped in the slightly squelchy mud “You’re gonna ruin my Gucci’s…” “Should have worn something a little more substantial then shouldn’t you?”

“I didn’t know you were planning on going fucking hiking in the fucking woods.”

“That’s not what we’re doing.” You said, stopping in front of a large oak tree, looking up at him.

“Then what are we doing? Reconnecting with Mother Nature? Or are we on the hunt for Oberon, Titania and Puck?”

“Ooh, good Shakespeare reference.” You grinned at him and he rolled his eyes as you slid your hand up over his navy blue lightweight Barbour jacket which was done up to his sternum, leaving his plain white, Armani t-shirt slightly visible at the neckline. “Does that make us Lysander and Hermia?”

“You got a hidden suitor called Demetrius I don’t know about?” he arched an eyebrow, his hands falling to your hips.

“Nope, I’m all yours Tiger.”

The sound of your ridiculous nickname for him drew a large smile across his face and he shook his head, giving a genuine chuckle. Here, with you there were no annoying voices to listen to, no family politics, nothing to care about but the gentle brush of the wind as it blew through the canopy of trees above your heads and the faint sounds of birds as they went about their business and Ransom felt a sense of comfort. Because you were his rock. The one person that saw through his bull shit, the woman in his life that knew all his horrible personality traits as well as his slightly less horrible ones and loved him all the same. The girl that had rounded off his harsher edges no matter how much he protested to the contrary.

You were his better half for sure.

“Well that’s good, because I don’t like sharing.” Ransom smirked, dipping his head to capture your lips in a soft kiss.

“Don’t I know it.” You mused against his mouth. His fingers flexed on your sides, pulling you closer to him as he slid his tongue across your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly, allowing him control over the kiss, knowing that’s what he craved when he was like this. His lips were soft on yours, tongue domineering as he kissed you deeply, slowly. Eventually he pulled back, his nose bumping yours slightly as he gave a little chuckle.

“I know you’re trying to distract me from those shit heads in the house.” He said, his tone playful and you loved playful Ransom. Another side to him only you really got to see.

“Is it working?” You played along.

“Yeah.” He nodded, his lips pressing to yours again.

“Good. Now why don’t you let your inner deviant come out to play?”

“You don’t need to ask me twice, Princess.” The words were barely out of his mouth before he had pressed you into the harsh, earthy bark of the tree behind you, kissing you hard again, groaning as you palmed his crotch through his designer denims. He grabbed your wrist, pinning it above your head before he did the same with the other one, easily holding both in place above you with one large hand, his other softly tracing up the outside of your thigh, fingers skating under your skirt.

“Is this why you wore this?” he smirked, toying with the material slightly. “So you could tempt me away for a fuck in the woods?”

It wasn’t, it was because it looked and felt good, but you decided to play along “Maybe. Was it a good choice?”

“Damned right it was…” he growled against your mouth, his long, soft fingers sliding your lace panties to the side. His index finger traced a path up your slit and you gasped at the feeling as he gently began to toy with you. Soft, teasing touches, his eyes never once leaving yours. That was one of his things, he liked to see your face, watch as your expressions changed as he undid you, fuelling his ego. Your hips gently started to move in time to his strokes as he played you, like an instrument from which he could always draw a tune. And in no time at all, he was listening to the music as you let out a soft keen, a purr almost as your head fell back against the tree, your mouth parting slightly.

“Like that?” he asked, and it was all you could do to nod, panting brokenly as the familiar feeing began to rise in the pit of your stomach, the fire growing hotter and hotter. “God you’re a fucking minx. Come on, cum on my fingers, you know you want to.” And you did, hard, your knees trembling, as you let out a loud cry of his name as the lights exploded in front of your eyes. Ransom pressed into you, his erection evident as it dug into your stomach, keeping you pinned between him and the tree as he coaxed you through your orgasm, before he moved his hands, allowing yours to drop to his shoulders as you held onto him tightly.

The clanging of a belt buckle, then the zipping of trousers and the rustling of fabric broke through the post-orgasm haze as Ransom undid his flies, reaching into pull out his painfully hard cock. He gently pushed forward, sliding the tip against your folds, gathering your slick as you gave a moan, the feeling of him sliding against your clit sent lances of red, hot desire through your veins.

His hands gripped the back of your thighs as he pulled you off the ground and you hooked them round his slim waist, ankles locking at the base of his spine. In a swift, fluid moment, no teasing, no gentle ease, he buried himself inside you with a deep thrust making you cry out as he filled you. His lips crashed onto yours as he drew back, then thrust back in hard, his cock dragging against your walls inside, hitting that spot that he knew would leave you seeing stars.

Yes, if there was one thing on this Earth Ransom knew he was good at, it was fucking you.

His lips traced a path from your mouth to your jawline, then to your neck, biting and sucking at any bit he could get to, his hips moving back and forth in a slow but deep pace which was torture, and you needed more.

“Ran, harder…” You groaned, digging your heels into his ass and he gave a dirty moan of his own as his hands held your hips.

“You’re such a needy little slut.” He smirked against your lips, not waiting for your reply as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth with a vigour that was merciless as he pistoned in and out of you again and again. Your hands gripped his shoulders tightly as you kissed him, teeth clashing together as your back repeatedly brushed against the harsh, rough surface behind you as you clawed desperately at the material of his jacket.

It wasn’t long before you felt another orgasm brewing and your head fell forward, teeth nipping at his ear drawing a growl from his throat. Your hands moved into his hair and you pulled sharply back causing him to hiss and look up you.

“Fuck, Y/N….” he groaned, the pupils of his eyes blown wide with a desire you would never tire of seeing. You pushed your hips down against him causing him to drive deeper and you let out an almost primal cry, the noise you made simply revving him up even more, his rapid movements growing even more urgent.

“Fuck Ran…” you moaned as your head rolled back against the tree, hands back on his shoulders, as once more that snake in your belly moved. Ransom felt the tell-tale flutter of your heat tightening round him and he continued his voracious pace, his eyes locked onto yours.

“You feel so fucking good…” he panted “So fuckin’ good Princess...”

His words made you moan again, and he pushed up once more, stilling slightly, grinding up against you as opposed to thrusting and a few rolls of his hips later you were done. The world faded around you as you came hard, with a loud scream before your head dropped to his shoulder, as you moaned his name, again and again whilst he pounded through your orgasm chasing his own.

“Shit, Y/N…I’m…fuck…” his words tumbled into your hair as his movements became desperate and he came a short while later with a loud yell. You felt him fill you up, as his hips stilled and he groaned, face buried into your neck, his chest heaving, sweat beaded both his brow and yours as he simply pressed into you, panting and shaking.

Neither of you had any idea how long you stayed like that, but eventually Ransom managed to gain enough control to pull his softening cock out of you and set you gently on your feet as he brushed the tendrils of your hair that had fallen over your face back with a tenderness he reserved only for you. He said nothing, simply looked at you, his lips gently greeting yours in a soft, loving kiss, a stark contrast to the violent ones you had shared moments before. You smiled at him, unadulterated love in your eyes as you moved your hands to brush his hair back before you leaned up and kissed him again, your nose sliding against his.

“I adore you Hugh Ransom Drysdale. Don’t ever forget that.”

“Don’t fucking call me Hugh.” He grumbled and you chuckled as he pulled you to him, nuzzling into your hair as he sighed. “But for the record, the feeling is mutual Y/F/N, Y/M/N, Y/L/N.”

You gave a laugh and were about to reply when you felt his head snap up, and his entire body tense and he let out an angry cry causing you to jump.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! The perverted little shit!”

“Ran?” You saw his face contorted in anger as he pushed back from you, striding away from the tree, rearranging his jeans as he went before he broke into a sprint. You watched him go and then, to your horror, saw the retreating back of a smaller male running away from the thicket of trees on the curve of the bank to your left and you felt yourself grow cold.

Jacob.

How long he had been there Ransom had no idea but he chased the little fucker all the way to the house, yelling insults and threats as he burst into the kitchen. Ransom finally caught up with him just as he ran into the hall and grabbed the kid by the collar, spinning him round and pinning him to the wall, arm crossed over his windpipe. “Enjoy the show did we?!” He yelled, the noise drawing the rest of the family out from the sitting room into the tiled hallway. Walt started to shout angry threats about what he was going to do to Ransom if he didn’t take his hands off his son, which then sparked Richard to bite back at Walt saying if he touched Ransom he’d give him a damned good hiding. If Ransom hadn’t been so focussed on the dirt little bastard he had pinned to the wall he would have laughed because the idea of his dad fighting anyone was hilarious, he couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag.

“Give me your phone.” Ransom demanded.

“I didn’t…” “GIVE ME YOUR PHONE NOW YOU PERVERTED PRICK!” Ransom yelled, and reached into Jacob’s pocket, grabbing his hand where it was curled around the offending item, bending the boy’s fingers back. Jacob gave a yell, pulled his hand out of his trouser pocket and Ransom seized the phone, yanking it out, just as you walked into the hallway.

He looked at you, then to Jacob and saw you pale as the realisation washed over you that you’d not only been seen but recorded or snapped, by a twelve year old boy nonetheless.

“Unlock it.” Ransom demanded, thrusting it back at him.

“Now listen here…” Walt started until Harlan turned to him.

“Walt, shut up.” He barked, turning to Jacob “Unlock the phone, now Jake.”

Jacob sullenly took the phone from Ransom and did has he was told, Ransom snatching it back. He glanced down at the screen, flicking to the Gallery and let out an angry noise as he saw not only footage of you both in the woods but ten or so photos of your bare thigh and close ups where he had attempted to see up your skirt when you had been on his knee before. Thankfully from the snaps there wasn’t really anything visible, but still the fact he had even taken them in the first place made Ransom apoplectic with rage.

“You dirty little prick.” he mumbled, looking back up at him. Jacob visibly recoiled under Ransom’s glare.

“Ran?” You questioned as you gently touched his arm and he tilted the phone so you could see the screen and your eyes widened, your entire body growing warm as you saw the close up of your thigh on the screen.

“How the fuck dare you?” You exploded, glaring at Jacob.

“Can you explain what he has supposedly done?” Donna, Jacob’s mother spoke for the first time and you turned to face her, your pretty features contorted in rage.

“He’s…” You shook your head “Taken photos of me, before up my skirt.”

Noise erupted in the hallway, Joni and Meg screaming about you being violated, Richard and Linda yelling at Walt and Donna whilst Harlan shook his head, making a noise of disgust. Ransom ignored them all as he selected the photos and images, deleting them, and showing it to you.

“Gone, Princess.” He turned the screen off before he leaned over and kissed your temple.

“Look, he’s a teenage boy…” Donna was protesting “He’s a bit curious…”

“He’s a dirty bastard.” Richard snorted and the irony wasn’t lost on Ransom as he’d seen his father eyeing you up on more than one occasion. He looked at his dad, eyebrow raised as Jacob bit back at the dig.

“I’m a dirty bastard?” The pre-teen snapped, his eyes flicking from Richard to Ransom “I’m not the one that was having sex against a tree!”

Everyone paused and their heads turned to you and Ransom. You gave a groan, your hands sliding up to your face to hide your utter embarrassment, but besides you Ransom’s expression never changed because, well frankly, he couldn’t give two shits about everyone knowing what you had been up to.

“I’m a grown ass man.” He snarled “If I wanna fuck my girl outside on private property I will”

He held Jacob’s phone out to him, but as Jacob went to take it Ransom opened his hand, dropped it to the floor with a loud “oops” and stomped on it, the metal and glass crunching under the heel of his expensive, leather boots.

There was more yelling, and Ransom simply turned, taking your hand in his. “We’re leaving.”

This time you didn’t argue. The pair of you walked away, ignoring the screaming which grew fainter as you headed down towards the large front doors, only to hear Harlan calling after you. Ransom stopped, took a deep breath and tuned to face his grandfather.

“Y/N are you ok?”

“Of course she’s not.” Ransom snapped but you gently squeezed his hand, shaking his head.

“I’m okay Harlan, thank you. But I think its best we go before Ransom commits murder.”

“Well, I can assure you I’m not far off killing the little turd myself.” Harlan shook his head, sighing. He then took a deep breath, looked at Ransom, and there was a flash of something which you knew only too well to be amusement in his eyes. “Which tree?”

Ransom frowned “What?”

“I asked which tree you two were doing the naughty against.”

You groaned as Ransom blinked and then shrugged “Just in the thicket to the south side of the lake, near the little jetty. Why?”

“Well, instead of barking up the wrong tree so to speak, next time stick to the North side.” Harlan grinned cheekily “It’s in the dip and no chance you can be spotted by anyone unless they’re a foot or so away.”

Ransom’s mouth curled up into a smirk as he looked at his grandfather then to you.

Meanwhile you simply wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

Harlan bid the two of you goodbye as you headed out to Ransom’s Beemer. He stopped just besides it, turning to you, his hands falling to your hips again. “Well, I don’t know about you, Sweetheart, but all that excitement has made me a bit hungry. Seeing as we’re not getting dinner here, how about I take you to Asta?”

Your face lit up at the mention of your favourite restaurant and you gave an eager nod before you frowned “Aren’t we a little underdressed? And it’s Saturday evening, we’ll never get in.”

“Baby girl, enough money can get us in anywhere, and you look fine.” He said, dropping a kiss to your lips before he grinned “You might wanna brush the twigs outta your hair though.”

#ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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darthkruge · 4 years

Note

1 + 2 from prompt list #5 plz 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Can I Kiss You? (Pt 1)

Prompts: “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” + “Can I kiss you?”

Warnings: A little language, Anakin is a bit of a little shit (affectionately), Reader is kinda shy, both of them are idiots but we love that for them <3

Words: 1.6k

A/N: I assume you wanted this with Ani because he’s basically the only person I’ve been writing for lately but, if not, I’m sorry!! Thank you for sending something in! Also this was so fucking fun to write, I loved it so much. I got carried away a little, my brain kinda ran with it so yeah! Also, this is kinda tooth rotting fluff, even for me, so be prepared.

Part 2 (there is now a sequel!)

(gif not mine)

You and Anakin were partnered together for a mission. It was fairly simple, nothing battle related -- purely diplomatic. Honestly, you weren’t sure why you two were even sent on it; it felt like somewhat of a waste for two Padawans to go on a random mission to Naboo. Even so, if it allowed you to spend more time with Anakin, you didn’t mind.

You had this raging crush on him from the moment you saw him. He was gorgeous and confident without being off-puttingly cocky. He was tall, his hair was soft, his eyes were piercing, and his smile and laugh were contagious.

Then, as the two of you grew closer, this crush developed into something deeper. You learned of his heart, his kindness, his selflessness, his desires, his needs, his fears. You were able to see the boy behind the prophecy and you truly, unequivocally, loved him.

“Come on, Y/N, hurry up!” Anakin’s joking tone broke you from your thoughts. You smiled back and ran up to him, playfully hitting his back as you caught up. He took your hand and the two of you continued walking, side by side.

These displays of affection weren’t uncommon between the two of you. Early on, you saw how he enjoyed your touch, always leaning into it when you’d accidentally brush against him or give him a quick hug after a mission. He, too, saw how you reacted when he put his arm around your shoulders or brushed your hair behind your ear.

Since the rest of the Jedi frowned upon connections and, thus, weren’t as forthcoming with affection, the two of you were quickly bonded. You were so attuned with each other that you now just knew when the person was searching for that physical connection. It had become natural, the sort of expected comfort that becomes impossible to live without.

The two of you walked through the gardens by the palace in Naboo, enjoying the sun’s warmth. You’d already talked to the government officials you needed to, attempting to figure out which other planets to get involved in the peace treaties. Thankfully, it went quickly and now you had the rest of the day to spend with Ani before returning home to Coruscant.

He led you to a secluded bench and plopped down, pulling you beside him. He pulled an apple from a tree and offered it to you. You thanked him and accepted it, allowing the crunchy texture and sweet flavor into your mouth. He watched you, grinning at your excitement.

“Okay, I’ve got a question for you,” Anakin said.

Okay. This has got to be good. “Shoot, Skywalker.”

“Who was your first?”

You choked on your apple, sputtering at his audacity! Anakin howled at your reaction, coming up behind you to thump your back a few times until you stopped choking.

“Dumbass!” You yelled, causing Anakin to keel over in another fit of laughs.

“You’re going to alert the entire palace!” He hushed you, gasping in breaths between his laughs.

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him in the gut. “Hey! Okay, okay, okay,” He said, holding up his hands in mock surrender before taking a pause. “But, seriously! Who was your first?”

“Anakin! That’s- I- Anakin!” You were so taken aback you couldn’t even form words. You were so caught off guard and, also, quite perplexed. “Ani, we’re not allowed to do, you know, that”

Anakin’s lips curled into a playful smirk at your response. “Maker, Y/N, I know! I meant, like, kissing… Who was your first kiss?”

Your face heated up quickly. You were hoping he’d drop it but apparently not. You didn’t want to admit that you hadn’t exactly had the chance to do that yet. You fiddled with your hands and looked away, embarrassed.

“Wait, have you ever kissed anyone before?”

“No…” You mumbled underneath your breath, still refusing to meet his eyeline.

Now, Anakin’s gaze softened. He never meant to make you feel uncomfortable or judged, he truly thought you had. I mean, look at you! Someone had to have wanted to kiss you before! His hand gently came up to tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at him.

His gaze saddened when it met yours, seeing how affected you were by his questions “It’s okay, Y/N! You don’t need to feel ashamed, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“I mean, it’s not like I haven’t had options. I totally could have been kissed by now if I wanted to!” You huffed indignantly, crossing your arms.

Anakin laughed, glad to see some of your fight returning to you. He knew that if you were being defensive and stubborn, you couldn’t be that mad at him. He looked at you for a minute, wondering. He’d been in love with you for as long as he could remember but refused to act on it; he knew how much being a Jedi meant to you and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that. Even so, he so badly wanted to come home to you each night, to hold you, to be the one you could turn to with any and everything, to be the person you loved and who loved you, always.

He thought about it for a moment more and decided he might as well try. “Can I kiss you?”

Your eyes widened and you gaped at his question. “You- you want to kiss me?”

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly, mentally wondering if this was a good or bad sign. “I, uh, I mean, yeah… You’re really kind and intelligent and, um, super nice to look at… And since you haven’t been I just thought you might wanna…”

“I think you’re super nice to look at too, Ani,” You teased. You were blushing at his words and practically pinching yourself. You’d wanted to hear them for so long, it almost didn’t feel real.

He allowed himself to slightly smile, hope creeping into his expression. “Is that a yes?”

You laughed, smiling too. You nodded, looking into his trusting eyes.

“If you wanna stop, just let me know, okay?” He said, sensing your nerves.

“Okay, Ani”

His fingers grazed over your jaw before guiding it towards him, tilting it slightly. Your eyes closed in anticipation, butterflies ready to burst out of your stomach at any moment. His mouth touched yours and your brain went completely fuzzy. Maker, Kriff, Fuck, Maker!! Is this really happening?

The kiss was so gentle, so sweet. It was just his lips against yours, nothing more. He didn’t want to frighten you by shoving his tongue down your throat on your first try. He just wanted to make you feel wanted and safe.

He pulled apart after a moment and looked at you. “Was that okay?” He laughed as your eyes lit up and you nodded excitedly.

“Can we do that again?” After feeling his lips and being so close to him, you never wanted that sensation to go away.

“Of course, love” Anakin said quietly, pulling you into him once more.

This time, he was a bit more intense, lips moving against yours slowly. You felt yourself get lost in him, in his taste and smell. You went on instinct, allowing your hands to weave into his hair. He hummed as you did so, hands finding their way to your waist and pulling you slightly closer.

He was still extremely careful. As much as he wanted to pour all his passion into this kiss, this moment was about you, not him. He led the kiss, not wanting you to feel like a fish out of water, and smiled into your lips. When you smiled back, Anakin swore his entire body warmed. He was so glad you agreed to do this with him, to allow him to be the person to share this moment with.

When you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours and cupped your cheeks. You looked at him shyly and he brushed his thumbs against your cheekbones.

“You were really good at that, are you sure you’ve never done that before?” He joked.

You pushed his shoulder back bashfully. “Shut up, Ani!”

“I’m serious,” He laughed, “You were really good!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, baby. You’re amazing.”

You looked at him for a beat. “So,” You said, dragging out the word, “What do we do now?”

“Well, the ship leaves for Coruscant in thirty minutes so…”

“Anakin Skywalker, you know what I mean!”

He chuckled. “Okay, fine! I mean, if you want, of course, we could be together?”

“Like, together together?”

“Only if you want!”

“Do you want?”

Anakin nodded.

“I, uh, I’d really like that, too, Ani”

He broke out into this big goofy grin and you followed suit. That damn, contagious smile. You knew there would be a million complications. The chances of it working out were practically unfathomable. The Council would kill you both if they found out, you’d never make rank! But you looked into his eyes and thought you could beat the odds.

Young love had a way of making you feel invincible. He was all you ever wanted. It was as if nothing could ever affect you if you were together. The Council wouldn’t find out, you’d be that one in a million couple, you’d grow old together and be happy and peaceful. It was the most unsure thing you’d ever done and, yet, nothing felt more certain.

As this realization swarmed round your head, you dove back in, connecting your lips once more. The garden around you faded and the weight of this new secret-relationship disappeared. It was just you and Anakin. Nothing would ever tear you apart.

----

I just made a taglist so if you wanna join... (dm me if you wanna be taken off!)

permanent tags:

@saltybreaddream

anakin tags:

@anakinswhore @kennedywxlsh @coldlilheart @adamgetawaydriver @chokemeanakin @gayidioot @starwars-whore @katelynnwrites @haydens-moles

#anon #megan writes #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker x y/n #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x gender neutral reader #anakin skywalker x gn!reader #anakin skywalker fluff #anakin x reader #anakin imagines #anakin x y/n #anakin x you #anakin x gender neutral reader #anakin x gn!reader

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blahkugo · 4 years

Text

Omakase

Pairing: Shouto Todoroki x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: 18+, smut, slight overstim, all characters are aged up, ofc.

A/N: Happy birthday to the woman that literally birthed my blog, the writer of the best fics I’ve ever read-- *cough Notice, Seven Minutes, Of Love and Lemons, etc.*-- @lookslikeleese. It’s 5 am right now and my brain cannot come up with the proper words, but just know I love you so much. Thank you for creating our entire friend group. I LOVE YOU.

omakase (noun):

(in a Japanese restaurant) a meal consisting of dishes selected by the chef; chef’s choice.

Thirty minutes into supper with the Todorokis, you think your heart may actually stop beating. It’s not the awkward silence, nor the snowstorm of icy glares traveling across the table. You’ve long since made your peace with the scents of charred leather couches and melted silverware that linger in your hair whenever one of the men gets riled up.

No, it’s an issue far more pressing than the typical family drama, a matter that needs to be resolved with stealth— immediately.

It’s Shouto’s fingers, darting into his pocket and pressing a single button. It’s your heels digging into the cool tile beneath you. It’s every nerve standing on end, every passing second sending a wave of heat to your core. Your knuckles blanche, gripping the oak table with such ferocity that it may just snap, and your thighs shake, overwhelmed.

The issue is that there’s a little pink vibrator pressing against your clit and the bi-colored bastard chews his food as though this night is no different than any other.

It doesn’t matter that the toy’s been placed at the lowest setting all night, doesn’t matter that your fingernails relieve a bit of the pressure every time you dig them into your exposed thighs. The only thought crossing your mind is your impending orgasm. How are you supposed to stifle euphoric pleasure when you’re barely able to hold it together now?

“So, how’s that new job going?” Enji asks more out of courtesy than interest. While you typically humor his attempts at placid conversation, you’re too troubled to speak to the stoic man in front of you. What if your juices seep through your soaked panties right onto the chair?

“It’s— ah- it’s really good.”

And this has been your entire night thus far. Feeble efforts to remain coherent, whines and gasps hidden behind awkward coughs— anything and everything you can possibly do to maintain your dignity in the presence of your boyfriend’s father.

“What was that funny story you were telling me earlier today?” Shouto doesn’t miss a beat, sending a quick slant your way before stuffing another bite of rice into his mouth. He knows precisely what he’s doing, can feel the pointed daggers you dig into the side of his head, but his relaxed smile reveals nothing to the three pairs of eyes gazing intently at you, awaiting your response.

“Oh, Mt. Lady, she— oh my god,” As soon as you begin speaking, he cranks the toy up to a new level. Though it’s only for a second, the sound that leaves your body is inhuman, a mortifying cross between a sob and a choke that has your palm slamming onto the table fiercely.

All at once, the table is bustling with concern for your safety. To their naive eyes, it seems you choked on a bite of food, and Fuyumi hurries to grab you a glass of water. Shouto simply remains seated, a slick grin plastered across his face at the sight of your heated cheeks and teary eyes. What the fuck could have possessed you to agree to this in the first place?

“I-I’m okay,” you mumble out, embarrassment shaking you far worse than any sex toy ever could. And that fact— the way your eyebrows knead together in discomfort as you squirm in your seat— is precisely what Shouto wants. You’re no stranger to humiliation, no stranger to the tugging deep in your gut or the heated flush that darts onto your mattress and makes its home on your cheeks.

But this? This type of shame is foreign; it makes your head spin and refuses to waver no matter how much you silently gripe and plead. “Honestly, I feel a bit—” another pulse, another pained gasp from you, “ill.” The words barely make their way out before you’re gritting your teeth, thighs pressing together so tightly they may leave pretty purple marks.

“Maybe I should take her upstairs,” Shouto sighs, faux apology slipping through his mouth with ease. When did the fucker get so good at lying?

And then he’s helping you up from your seat, rubbing tender circles into your back, like any good boyfriend would. But every graze is unbearable, sends a tidal wave of warmth rushing through your core. The most innocent of touches has become obscene, twisted in a way only you and the cool man next to you are able to acknowledge.

As you climb the stairs with shaky legs, you can only pray that the rest of the family doesn’t notice the slick juices trailing down your thighs.

—

“Who knew dinner and a show could be so entertaining?” He teases, just barely dodging the fist you throw half-heartedly at his shoulder. His supple lips are glued into a smirk, one that probably won’t drop until the night is long over.

“Please– I-” you attempt to stifle your moans, but in the comfort of his childhood bedroom you find yourself slipping into a high-pitched whine. “Turn it off.” He seems to debate the plea internally, slender fingers brushing over the buttons until you grip harshly at his bicep. You’ve endured enough misery to last you months.

When he finally switches it off, you feel your entire body slacken and relief wash over you; however, it does nothing for the throbbing in your clit or the pool of desire still brimming in your core. What you crave is his touch, the warmth that pokes and prods at your every muscle, loosening each nerve until you’re a babbling mess— wholly at the mercy of his lithe fingers.

“Shou,” you mewl, voice dripping with desperation. His eyes widen for a quick second, brows raised and shocked by your blatant come-on with his family only a level down. “I need you.”

Those three simple words have him springing into action, shoving you against the mattress. Pinning you beneath him with ease, he hikes your skirt up to your hips before running a slender digit against your clothed slit.

“You made a mess,” his words carry no weight, only amazement at the juices flowing freely through the thin panties and down your thighs. “Probably made a mess all over your chair too.”

With that comment, your shame is back with a vengeance, tinging the tips of your ears and causing you to cry out. Before Shouto, you’d have never thought this sort of depraved commentary could have you shaking. Hell, you’re not sure he even knew what he was doing to you at first; ever oblivious, Shouto simply speaks his mind.

Only when he noticed the effect of his words, did he begin using those passing observations against you. Now, he lives for your reactions, spurs you on if only to see how far a gruff remark can push you— and typically, your limit is reached in wanton sobs and bright red scratch marks down his back.

He doesn’t bother with removing the lace panties, only tugs them to the side so he can brush his fingers against your naked slit. When he pushes a thumb against your clit, you can’t help the loud cry that escapes you. “Bite,” he offers up his wrist so that your moans don’t carry through the thin walls.

Your teeth sink into his flesh, eliciting a sharp breath at the sudden pain. And he enjoys that part too— the lengths you’ll go to achieve pleasure, the stinging reminders of your desire. “Stay quiet for me, yeah?” He tests a finger, then two, knuckles deep in your doughy walls as you writhe on the bed. “Good girl.”

“Mmph,” you feel your eyes roll back at the soft praise, thighs tensing as he begins to pump his digits in and out. “Faster, ah– please.” Your moans are muffled against his arm, but he complies nonetheless, fingers curling and hitting the spot that drums against your heartbeat, that rattles through your brain.

The second he brings his lips to your clit, you feel the coil in your stomach about to snap. Hair slick with sweat, your hands roam through his own wet strands, gripping and tugging him closer, closer, closer. He suckles hungrily, his last meal long forgotten as he pushes you further over the edge.

All at once, you see stars. You’re unsure whether you’re keeping quiet like he asked or sobbing loudly, the tidal wave of pleasure consumes you whole, stomach going taut and twisting as he allows you to ride out your orgasm. With the toy slowly edging you all night, this bliss feels fully merited— is exactly what you deserve after being subjected to his teasing for so long.

Shouto only lets up when your entire body has gone slack and you push his head away. Bringing his fingers up to your supple lips, he watches hungrily as you slurp at your own slick.

His eyes are the darkest you’ve ever seen them, pooling with eagerness and a longing for more; he brings a thumb to his chin to wipe at your juices— licks a long stripe up the digit to fully savor you. The image is immodest at the least, animalistic at most.

It reignites your own thirst immediately.

Though you’re exhausted, core spasming from overuse, you find yourself tugging at his waistband, pulling him close so he can sheath himself inside you in one fell thrust.

“Fuck,” his voice is husky, groan stifled in the nook of your shoulder. “Still so fucking tight for me.” The only sounds that fill the air are your joint moans, the squeaky springs of the mattress, and the headboard clanging against the wall— sweat soaked skin as his hips snap against you.

“Ah— please, please, please,” it seems to be the only phrase that falls from your loose lips. Every jerk sends shocks across your damp flesh, vision going foggy as he sends your brain spinning. Once again, you teeter at the edge, so close. Your legs wrap across his back, digging into the globes of his ass to pull him impossibly closer.

“What do you want?” He grunts into your jaw, peppering wet kisses down your neck and across your chest. It may leave a mark or two, but it’s something to worry about later.

“I–”At this point, you’re just a teary, blubbering mess, “please, Shou– need your cum.” You manage the words, knowing exactly what effect they have. His movements quicken, pace faltering as he chases his own high.

And then, you’re both seeing stars. With one final shudder, his cock twitches, and then he’s spilling into you. Your groans intertwine, his a loud sigh of your name, you sobbing helplessly.

Once he finally stills, he collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving. His fingers smooth at your matted hair, whispers of ‘so good for me’ and ‘fuck, baby’ into the shell of your ear as he allows your body— still trembling uncontrollably— time to regain composure.

Now you remember why you agreed to this little game of his.

–

“I hope you feel better,” Fuyumi hugs you goodbye, though your eyes are glazed over in post-coital bliss. Her gaze doesn’t quite meet your own, anyways. But they couldn’t have heard; you were quiet. Weren’t you?

As you stumble into the passenger side of Shouto’s pristine Model S, you catch the gruff comment Enji murmurs to Shouto,

“You two could stand to be a bit less obvious next time.”

#weese's birthday bash #shouto todoroki x reader #bnha smut #shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #mha smut #shouto #shoto todoroki x reader #smut #tw: overstimulation

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

City Lights . ( Namjoon x OC)

Pairing : OC x Kim Namjoon.

Genre : Angst. Romance.

Rating 18 +

Word Count : 2900

Warnings : Mature Themes , Explicit Sexual Content . Slow burn. Like slower than a snail.

Summary :

Widowed and destitute, Son Yang Mi leaves the comfort of her small , secluded fishing village and travels to the intimidating city of Seoul with her young son. She has a plan, one that involves finding a job, getting her son into a good school and building a life for herself.

Now, three years later she has a job , working as a live in house keeper for the Kim family, specifically for the son, Kim Namjoon, a famous rapper and producer.

Its a job that puts a roof over her head and she’ll do anything to keep it.

But fate has other plans.

Chapter 1 ~

Akogare (ah-koh-ga-reh)Often translated directly as a sort of frustrated “yearning”, “desire”, or “longing” .

Seoul in summer was a sight to behold. I blinked back against the bright sunlight, staring out into the stunning skyline of the city as the sun rose over it , and although it was just a little past seven in the morning, the air was warm and invigorating. The mid July sun shone down with no mercy, and there was no trace of the rain that had lashed city just the previous night.

It had been three whole years but the relief that came from breathing fresh air, untainted by the damp musk of fishing trowels and sweaty men, was still unrivalled.

I shook off the feather duster in my hand, moving to carefully clean the wicker woven chairs on the artificial lawn in the balcony. Dusting the entire condo down was a mind numbing exercise in patience, so i tried to get it out of the way, early in the morning when my son was still asleep.

At six years old, Junsu was a bright , happy child. Summer vacation meant days sleeping in and evenings spent frolicking with the other kids in the building and he was content with being alone in our small shared room, reading or playing with his toys while I went about the day’s work.

I glanced at the clock, grimacing.

It was almost eight . And although Mr. Kim wasn’t due back home for another twelve hours, I felt a little jittery and nervous.

Kim Namjoon , renowned rapper, producer, writer , poet and what not. The apartment was his but he was usually on tour, traveling all over the world to promote his book and to perform in sold out stadiums. For an A list celebrity, he was surprisingly humble.

For the past three years, him and his model fiancée Lee Mina had spent a total of maybe seven months in the condo. They were a sweet couple, or so I’d always thought , a bit formal with each other but clearly in love . Mr. Kim was a kind, soft spoken young man and I’d never heard him raise his voice unless he was in the company of his very dear friends.

Just a little over a week ago , both of them had left Korea for the States , the tabloids screaming about a luxurious destination wedding in the Caribbean and I had been asked to take a few weeks off . The newly weds wouldn’t be back for quite a while and they would let me know when I had to come back to the condo.

I’d been toying with the idea of visiting my in laws in Gwangyog, maybe even dropping by to see some old friends there but yesterday , Mr. Kim’s mother had given me a call letting me know her son was coming home.

[

The conversation went something like this :

Yang Mi, I hope you haven’t left yet?

No, Ma'am, I haven’t.

Joon-ah is going to be back tomorrow.

Oh, is Ms Lee arriving as well?

No, Just him He’s going to be alone.

Yes, Ma'am.

Please don’t mention anything about Mina or the wedding.

No ma'am of course not.

I’ll drop by later . Cook him something warm and filling. And make sure the house is cleaned well.

Yes, Ma’ am.

]

And that was that.

~~~~~~

It took the better part of the day to finish cleaning and setting up the house . I washed the window slats, changed the sheets, arranged the books that had been left scattered all over his bedroom. The walk-in closet was littered with a bunch of his clothes and I made sure his gym bag was stocked with fresh towels, spare clothes and his favorite head and wrist bands.

For someone so careful and calculated, he was really quite a messy man.

i did his laundry, making sure he had ample clothes at least for another two weeks, creasing the handkerchiefs and carefully removing lint from his jackets.

I also carefully sorted out the feminine clothing from the laundry and from the cupboard, folding them neatly and placing them in the lowest shelf of the closet, where he wouldn’t find them. It wasn’t hard, hiding traces of his fiancee from the condo, because it had never really been her home. other than a few spare pieces of underwear and a couple of t shirts and skirts, there weren’t many articles of clothing belonging to Ms. Lee.

But I still got rid of the bobby pins and hair ties, the spare lip gloss and mascara.

Junsu spent the entire day in our room, reading and drawing, only venturing out every few hours to grab a snack. I left him with his drawing tab ( a gift from Mr. Kim for his 5th birthday ) and his favorite book, asking the security guard at the end of the hallway to keep an eye on the door, while i went out to buy groceries.

Lots of meat, no sea food, healthy snacks and high protein fiber bars. I stocked up on sauces and bought a fresh batch of eggs, oranges and grapes . Mrs. Kim had sent a large amount of kimchi a few weeks ago and that was still in the pantry.

i stopped for a second, staring around at the almost deserted store. Most of the other housekeepers shopped at the bigger, more exclusive store on the other side of the residential complex. But Mr. Kim had a very selective palette, which meant that I had to be very particular about the brands i bought.

When i came back home at around six, Junsu was on the floor in the living space and i felt my heart jump in panic.

“Baby!! I’ve told you not to come out here when I’m not home!” I protested bleakly and he pouted.

“I need to show you my gift for Mr. Kim!!” He said softly. I smiled moving to put away the groceries and glancing at the clock. It was a little past six. I had to call Yungyu.

“Did you draw him something ? “ I asked curiously, checking to see if the beer shelf was stocked. probably should have done that before going out for the groceries, I thought regretfully.

“Yeah! Look!!” Junsu held his tab out and my heart dropped.

For a six year old, Junsu drew very well. And there was really no mistaking the very obvious wedding scene on the screen.

Oh, Good God.

“ That looks amazing honey.” I said gently. “ But, I heard that Ms Lee isn’t coming over this time..”

Junsu frowned.

“Why?”

“Well, I’m not sure. But remember how we spoke about saying the right things? When something upsets someone, we do not bring it up.” I reminded him gently. My son hesitated but nodded.

“Okay. I’m sorry. “ He said softly.

“No baby, its not your fault. It’s just that we want Mr. Kim to be happy right? We don’t wanna upset him...”

He smiled at that.

“When he’s happy, his dimples come out.” He said with a giggle. I laughed.

“yes they do... So let’s try and get those dimples out as often as we can alright? Why don’t you show him that picture you drew of yeontan the other day? He’ll really like that....”

“Okay...but i need to go color it!” Junsu yelled, already running back into our room. I watched him go before reaching for the phone and dialing, Yungyu, the chauffeur.

“Are you on the way here? ” i said briskly.

“Just starting from home...” Yungyu muttered, “ I’m supposed to be on vacation now! Why is he coming back so soon?”

“Just hurry up !! We can’t keep him waiting!!” I said sharply, before hanging up.

I made a quick check of all the rooms, filling up water bottles for his gym routine in the morning and stashing them in the fridge before moving to get dinner started.

i set the water on boil for the stew, before moving to peel cucumbers for the salad. I chopped the cucumber , along with some fresh cherry tomatoes . I watched the water boil, thinly slicing an onion and adding it to the bowl as well. The dressing was pretty simple, soy sauce, rice vinegar, honey and sesame oil . I sprinkled some sesame seeds on the bowl, used the salad tongs to give the whole thing a nice toss and set it aside.

I braised the chicken first , peeling and chopping potatoes and carrots to add to the stew . In a few minutes, the rich smell of lightly spiced chicken and garlic and perilla leaves began filling the kitchen and I turned on the rice cooker as well.

The door bell rang at six forty and i opened the door to reveal Yungyu.

I grabbed the keys to the Palisade, handing them over to him.

“Did you hear?” He whispered urgently.

I frowned.

“What?”

“They say Mr. Kim called off the wedding!” He whispered, wide eyed.

I glared at him.

“Who told you that?” i demanded...

“Seojoon from the gate said-”

“Why don’t you ask Seojoon from the gate to mind his own damn business?” I snapped.

Yungyu looked suitably chastised. i felt a little bad. Yungyu was still young and curiosity was hardly a sin.

“His flight lands at eight exactly. Hurry okay?” I said with a smile, ruffling his hair.

He brightened, peering over my shoulder into the house.

“Where’s the little one?” He asked curiously.

“ Painting something for Mr. Kim... Go ahead, hurry up.” I shooed him away, locking the door behind him. I fixed a plate of food for Junsu and sent him to eat, before moving to check on the stew. +

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

By the time eight thirty rolled around I had the table set and ready. I washed my face quickly in the small bath attached to our room , making sure I was dressed well. Junsu wasn’t allowed in the main house unless Mr. Kim specifically asked for him and my son usually stayed in.

Junsu and I stayed in a bedroom , not large by any means but big enough for a queen sized bed, a table and chair for Junsu and small dresser where I kept a comb and a tube of night cream. I stared at my face, licking my lips as I smoothed my hair out.

I glanced at the bed.

Junsu was asleep , having dozed off while coloring his picture and I carefully extracted the tab from under his fingers, moving him around to lay on the soft pillows. I tucked him in gently, brushing the hair off his face.

“In peace , I will lie down to sleep, for You alone will let me rest in safety.” I whispered gently against his forehead, kissing the soft skin. I felt my lips wobble , a debilitating wave of affection flooding me as the sweet scent of my baby, filled my senses.

I would die for you, I thought fiercely, kissing him again.

The sound of the front door opening made me jump.

Swearing, i smoothed the fabric of my skirt, running to the kitchen.

“Thank you for picking me up Yungyu, I’m sorry you had to cut short on your vacation.” Mr. Kim’s deep voice filled the hallway and I quickly grabbed a glass, filling it with water and placing it on the dinner tray.

“Not a problem, Sir. “ Yungyu’s cheerful voice responded.

“How are you going home?” Mr. Kim asked.

“I’ll take the bus.”

A pause and then,

“Here’s some cash. Get a cab.”

I could hear the relief in Yungyu’s voice as he let out a , “ Thank you sir.”

I fixed his plate carefully, the bowl of rice, the bowl of chicken stew, and the salad neatly arranged next to the napkin and the chopsticks. I heard him move across the condo, the sound of his suitcases as he wrestled them towards his bedroom and I frowned. Yungyu should’ve have brought those in for him.

I finished reheating all of the food and carefully carried the dinner tray to the bedroom.

Mr. Kim’s bedroom was right at the end of the hallway and the door was open. The full length mirror on the opposite wall showed him sitting on the small couch in his room, legs spread and elbows resting on his knees as he ran his fingers through his hair.

I raised my hand, ready to knock on the wood.

“Fuck!” He shouted, kicking out at the coffee table with enough force to send the furniture skidding half way across the room.

I froze in the hallways stunned.

“You’re such a fucking fool , Namjoon !!” He muttered angrily and I swallowed, turning on my heel and quickly walking back to the kitchen.

Maybe I ought to wait till he asked for dinner.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He didn’t ask for dinner.

I stayed sitting on the floor of the kitchen, waiting and lightly dozing as I heard him talk to his parents on the phone. I heard him open the liquor cabinet in his room, the sound of ice sloshing against glass, the sound of whiskey being poured carefully and i sighed.

I had to get to bed. It was already a little past eleven.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sometime in the night, I woke up sweating....

Wondering what woke me up, I blinked groggily, glancing at Junsu. He was still sound asleep.

Sighing, I climbed out of the bed, carefully making my way to Mr. Kim’s room, peering in carefully.

He was asleep on the sofa.

I stared at the way his long legs stretched over the armrest, his lean hips twisted to accommodate his broad shoulders on the couch and I winced. He was definitely going to regret that in the morning.

I stared at the half empty bottle of whiskey on the table and sighed, moving to take off his shoes carefully. He didn’t stir.

I grabbed a pillow from the bed, carefully lifting his head and slipping it under. I placed a comforter over his shoulders, pulling it down to cover his legs.

Force of habit almost made me brush his hair off his forehead but I stopped myself.

The clock on the wall read three fifty am. God, I was going to feel terrible tomorrow. I carefully tip toed out, shutting the door behind me

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I picked the comforter from the floor, carefully folding it and placing it on the bed, before grabbing the empty bottle of whiskey and glass . i could hear the shower running. The curtains were still drawn in and I tugged on the strings to get them to open. Sunlight spilled in through the floor length windows. The bed wasn’t slept in, so I opened the closet to grab a couple of towels, laying them on the bed for him.

The bathroom door opened and i quickly straightened, wanting to race out of the room but it was too late. Thankfully he was dressed, a pair of loose sweats and a loose t shirt . He was running a towel through his hair and his face brightened at the sight of me.

“Yang Mi! You’re here....” He said cheerfully.

“Good morning sir.” I said softly, offering him a small smile.

He smiled brightly, hair damp and dimples deep. The white t shirt he had on was almost fully soaked through and he shook his head, sending stray water droplets all over the place, a few landing on my cheeks.

“I didn’t see you last night...” He said casually, moving to drop the wet towel in the hamper, grabbing one of the fresh ones I’d laid on the bed.

“I thought you would like your privacy sir, you looked exhausted.”

He smiled.

“ Thank you for the blanket and the pillow by the way. And the shoes.”

I bowed quickly.

“I’ll get your breakfast done, sir.” I bowed again before quickly getting out.

I moved to the kitchen grabbing the oranges I’d got the previous day . Mr. Kim wasn’t fond of traditional korean dishes in the morning. He preferred freshly squeezed juice and toast, sometimes with an omelet perhaps.

I fixed his breakfast quickly, setting it all in the tray . He was still moving around in the bedroom and I heard him drag his worktable to the windows, which meant he was going to stay in the bedroom.

Pouring his coffee into a cup, I carefully picked up the breakfast tray , moving to his room slowly.

I used my foot to knock on the door.

After a pause of a few seconds,

“Come in Yang Mi!”

I carefully moved to the small table in front of the couch, placing the tray right in front of him. The scent of his body wash, green apple and strawberries, hit me hard.

“Where’s Junsu?” He asked casually.

“Still asleep sir. It’s Summer so school’s out.” I smiled, grabbing his phone from the table to make space for his tray.

The phone buzzed just as I was about to place it back down and I blinked.

Mina calling.......

I swallowed, not sure what to do, placing the phone down quickly.

“Uh..you have ...” I waved vaguely at the device before bowing again and moving back.

“close the door on your way out, Yang Mi...” He said gently and I quickly obeyed.

I moved to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee for myself. I stayed leaning over the counter and even through the locked door, I could hear him .

“Just don’t call me Mina...i don’t want to talk about this!!!”

I swallowed, glancing out of the window again. It was a bright, clear morning.

A second later, the door to his bedroom slammed open and he stormed out. I watched him from my spot in the kitchen, his fists clenched as he rushed out to the front door.

The door shut behind him and I exhaled.

Once I as done with my coffee, I moved to his room to clear the breakfast tray. His phone was still on the table.

It began ringing again just as I left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mrs. Kim.” i said respectfully, bowing . She gave me a short smile.

“Where’s Namjoon? I’ve been calling him for the past hour.” She pushed past me into the house and I bit my lips.

“He went out about an hour ago. He left his phone behind.” I explained.

She stopped, sighing.

“Fine, I’ll wait for him. “ She moved to sit on the couch, glancing around the room.

“Should I get you something ma'am?” I asked softly and she smiled.

“Get me a glass of lemonade, Yangmi.” She said brusquely and i nodded, running to the kitchen.

“Did Mina come over?” She called out as I got the lemons out of the cooler.

“No ma'am.” i replied.

“Did she call?”

I remembered the phone ringing, how upset it had made Namjoon, how he had stormed out.

“I don’t know ma'am!” I said softly.

She nodded.

“Okay. You can leave.” She said quietly. i bowed and went back into the kitchen.

I peered out of the window as I fixed her a glass , and my eyes fell on a familiar figure, coming back in through the front gate. Even from this distance there was no mistaking the long legs and messy blonde hair.

I bit my lips, mind racing.

Mrs Kim and her son had a volatile relationship, to say the least.

And something told me that Mr. Kim was probably not in the right frame of mind to argue with his mother, now. The man was upset but apparently, neither his mother nor his ex fiancée understood that. instead of giving him space they were hounding him.

I hesitated for a second before making a quick decision.

I grabbed the tray with her lemonade and moved to her quickly.

“Thank you.” She said sharply. “ Turn on the Air Conditioner for me, will you?”

I fumbled with the remote, grabbing his phone from the table , turning it on before moving to the front door and rushing out.

I almost ran into him as he came out of the elevator , and i jerked back stumbling a bit to stop myself from crashing into his chest. He let out a , ‘ Whoa, “ his hands reaching out to grip my elbows.

“Careful. What’s wrong?” He asked gently and I swallowed.

“Your mother’s here.” I said quickly, “ Sir.”

“Oh, fuck.” He groaned. I swallowed.

“You can leave.” I blurted out. “It’s Tuesday. She has her charity work meeting at ten. Its almost nine. She won’t stay long....”

His eyes met mine, lips parting in surprise.

“I really can’t meet her now.” He said apologetically.

I nodded.

“Of course, I understand , sir. Just be back in an hour , she’ll be go-”

The elevator buzzed , the doors nearly closing over my shoulders and I flinched. He swore and stuck his arm out to keep it open.

I stared at him before holding his phone out.

“Here you go sir. “

He chuckled taking it from me and shaking his head.

“i feel like a kid, sneaking away from my mom.” His eyes reached mine, twinkling, “ Who would’ve thought the quiet, timid Yang Mi would be my partner in crime. “

I didn’t reply, just smiled.

And then he hesitated. “ Is Junsu awake?”

I blinked.

“Uh...yes sir,...he’s playing in the park downstairs with the other kids.”

“Great... Would you mind if i take him out for ice cream?”

I stared at him.

“Oh..uh...of course not. Sure.. I mean.. he’ll love that... Sir. Thank you.. You don’t have to -”

“Consider it thank you for helping me with my mother.” He smiled again and i found myself staring at his dimples again. i swallowed.

“in that case, he loves butter scotch.” I smiled.

The dimples appeared and i bit my lips.

“Thank you Yang Mi.” He said slowly.

“Yes, Sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Finally a hyungline fic !!! ugh... I’ve been wanting to write a Namjoon fic for ages and I really hope you guys will like this one :’( Feedback is much appreciated.

#namjoon smut #namjoon au #namjoon hot #namjoon fics #namjoon x reader #namjoon fic #bts smut #bts fanfics #bts au #bts fics #houseofddaeng

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littlemisspascal · 4 years

Text

Death and an Angel part 3

Death!Din and Cupid F!Reader

Summary: You and Din have an unexpected heart-to-heart about what it means to be Death and a Cupid on route to a planet where Din’s potential soulmate lives.

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,500

Warnings: Pining, smidge of angst, more plot development, Razor Crest (RIP I miss you darling!), a made-up home world for the reader (yes, yes, there’s like a million I could have picked but my brain said NOPE)

Author Note: Ahhhh, the comments are so amazing from you all! Thank you everyone out there sparing time to check out my little universe, it makes me sooo happy you have no idea! As always, I hope you enjoy this new segment as I try to plot this story out and get these two idiots to acknowledge there just might be something between them.

Also special thanks to @codenamewitcher for including the first two parts on Weekly Fanfic Recs. Be sure to go check out the list for a whole bunch of fantastic stories!

Links to Part 1, Part 2 and Part 4

Photo Inspiration: (What I imagine is beneath the armor in this scene...*dreamy sigh*)

There is a distinct silence that can only be found in hyperspace when the stars outside resemble sparkling streaks of silver tinsel and your breath is trapped within your lungs as you’re awestruck by the sheer beauty of it all. You experience this silence aboard the Razor Crest, sitting in the cockpit behind Din as he pilots his beloved gunship. It isn’t the first time you’ve been a passenger, having traveled with Din on two previous ventures where your Cupid services were required on planets far away from your home on Umbriel.

Off-world assignments for you were generally rare since your bosses were more inclined to choose Cupids of higher ranking to handle those clients, but sometimes you were the only available option left. Which, come to think of it, is exactly how you became the one roped into meeting with Death every full moon. Your bosses decided someone needed to check up on him to make sure he wasn’t reaping anyone before their fated time and thus messing with the natural order of things. You privately have reached the conclusion it was a decision made during a fit of paranoia as you had yet to find any evidence suggesting Din ever broke a single one of the universe’s rules, let alone even considered the mere possibility.

When you did travel for assignments, you never stopped feeling like a goldfish being dumped out of your familiar little bowl and into a massive ocean full of strange oddities. You would often find yourself wasting time trying to successfully navigate the unknown world when you should have been focused on tracking down your client’s soulmate.

That’s why Din had offered to start traveling with you. Actually, in his own words it was because, “You think about love so much you don’t see trouble until it’s an inch in front of you. Someone’s got to be there to look after you.”

You’d tried to argue, told him you had never experienced trouble and that if you did then you could handle it with your bow. All Cupid’s were required to master archery for self-defense purposes, though Din’s responding snort of derision made you suspect he wasn’t convinced of your skills. You wondered if he thought, just as humans incorrectly did, a Cupid only used their bow to spread love and lust. Or maybe he just thought you weren’t capable of such finesse. It was an insulting assumption, fueling you with the burning desire to prove him wrong. One day, you keep telling yourself, a repetitive chant. One day you’ll show him just how capable you are with your weapon and you imagine his look of shock, whether worn openly on his face or hidden beneath the visor of his helmet, will be utterly priceless.

But in the meantime, you’re in no hurry to encounter trouble. Finding enjoyment in taking these trips with him on his ship instead.

The Razor Crest had actually been a complete surprise to you when Din first welcomed you on it; primarily because the notion of him using such a primitive form of transportation despite the powers he possessed as Death was too outrageous to wrap your head around. However, it took less than ten minutes soaring through space for you to discover just how many details of the universe you were missing by relying on your Cupid abilities to teleport yourself between locations. Never would you have imagined Death to be the one to teach you to love the slowness of travel, to let your eyes linger on all the beautiful wonders along the way. But that’s exactly what happened.

You turn your head away from the window to look at Din. From your angle, all you glimpse is the back of his helmet, reflecting the passing starlight. Soon you’ll be introducing Din to the first immortal on your list of potential soulmates.

Death, you quickly correct yourself. He’s only Din when he’s around you.

You initially thought he elected to wear his armor because you told him he could to ease his comfort, but now you think it’s because this is him meeting his potential soulmate as himself. It is easy to forget sometimes this is the image of Death—a warrior enshrouded in beskar, cunning and ruthless—that is recognized throughout the universe. And feared.

If the handsome face he concealed was known instead, you wonder if mortals would readily choose to embrace the ending of their lifetime, rather than foolishly seek to run from its inevitability.

“What is it?” Din’s baritone voice startles you as it shatters the quietness. The modulator within his helmet gives his tone a low raspiness that never fails to send a chill down your spine when you hear it.

“Huh?” You respond ineloquently.

“You’ve been staring at the back of my head for the last five minutes, angel. I figured you had something worth saying.”

“Oh, no. I was just thinking about you.”

Immediately you wish a meteor would collide with the ship, providing you with the necessary distraction to escape and find somewhere you can hide until the end of time.

“...What about me were you thinking?” Din wonders after a solid thirty seconds of pure silence, voice somehow conveying an equally blended mixture of intrigue and wariness. He flips on the ship’s autopilot and turns in his seat to pin you with his gaze, apparently unwilling to let you try and weasel yourself out of the conversation.

You roll the question around in your mind, wanting to give an answer that satisfies him without it also embarrassing yourself further.

“I was thinking how much of an enigma you are,” you murmur at last, leaning back in the chair with your arms crossing over your stomach. “You wield such incredible powers and yet you choose to wear a human face, to call this man-made ship your home and to also spend your spare time living amongst those you will eventually reap. Why are these your choices?”

He tilts his head, and you just know there is a little crease of bewilderment appearing between his eyebrows right now even if you can’t see it. For as much as he is a puzzle you can’t put together, he is also at times an open book that you will never tire of reading.

“I would think you, more than most beings, would understand the discomfort that stems from loneliness and the lengths one will go to ease it,” he says, not unkindly. He mirrors your position, maneuvering himself until he’s comfortable in his seat and totally oblivious to the dilating of your pupils as you observe every subtle shift of his armor-clad body. “Isn’t that the true purpose of Cupids? To spare individuals the ache of living a life of solitude by introducing them to someone to love so they no longer feel it.”

“That’s a poetic way of putting it,” you answer, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders. “My superiors would just quote our mantra back at me when I used to ask. Amor vincit omnia.”

“Love conquers all.”

You shouldn’t be surprised he’s able to translate such an ancient and obscure language, but your eyes widen regardless. “That’s right.”

His voice is unusually soft when he asks, “Do you like being a Cupid?”

You stare at him, caught off guard by how easily he’s changed the topic of the conversation from himself to you. You’re used to taking orders and being thanked for your services, but no one has ever asked you if you liked doing any of it.

“I’m good at it,” you finally say, even though it’s not really an answer.

He nods his head still, as if he understands. A part of you thinks he actually does.

You lick your lips, eyeing him hesitantly. “Do you...like being Death?”

“I’m good at it,” he echoes, but your words sound somber coming from his lips.

The cockpit fills with hushed silence again, but there’s a unique tenderness unlike ever before. Minutes seem to stretch on for entire seasons as you watch one another, content to simply coexist and revel in each other’s presences.

It would be so easy to slip off his helmet and kiss him right now.

You stiffen, stunned at your own thought, but you aren’t given the chance to analyze it further as an alarm on the ship’s control panel announces with a resounding beep you’ve reached your destination.

Din spins in his seat, reclaiming control of the steering to begin the ship’s landing process. You look out the front window at the large green-blue planet drawing nearer with every anxious tick of your heartbeat.

“We’re here,” you say needlessly, forcing excitement into your voice. Fake it till you make it, isn’t that the human expression?

“Who is it we’re meeting on this backwater skug hole?” Din asks, pressing a series of buttons above his head.

You kick the back of his seat. “Be nice,” you scold when he shoots you a look. He mutters something unintelligible under his breath as he turns back around, prompting you to roll your eyes. “She’s a goddess of springtime and motherhood. The locals call her Omera.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @becauseican2, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @eleine-t1d, @nicotinebirds, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee

#the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin #Mandalorian #soulmate au #my fic #my writing #death and an angel #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #din x you #din x reader

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infinitegalahad · 3 years

Text

GENERATION KILL: COMFORTING THERE PARTNER

"This is just me formally submitting a request for that gk boys offering their own forms of comfort fic/ headcanon/ thoughts wtevr. Lol just as a reminder. 😀"@theboardwalkbody

Gif Credit: @ymagor

A/N: You're wish is my command, homes❣️ Here's a little change of pace! @theboardwalkbody inspired this post (and asked it!), so thanks for the Inspo friend! 🤩 I'm doing this for BoB and TP because I'm going through a slight writer's block and instead of thinking about long descriptions, I just wanna so head canons that get a little out of hand. I hope this isn't too ooc😔 Reader has *inserted mental illness* btw, it's up for interpretation! ALSO GN! READER! Enjoy!

Taglist: @theboardwalkbody @contrabandhothead

Masterlist

NATE FICK-

Nate's a calculated person. He can see the patterns in people, things, etc. Like how his father's eyebrows wrinkle when he's excited, or when his mother likes to prep a meal from vegetables to the main course. So when you're happy, sad, whatever-he knows it, and you don't even have to tell him.

He'll come home and see you. He knows that you've heard him calling you're name, but you don't move. He looks all over the house and finds you inside of your tub, just sitting there with no response. The water is running, and your clothes and hair are soaked.

So in an attempt to not disrupt your peace, Nate climbs in and sits next to you. You look over and he's stares at you. Just as your about to speak, he beats you to it.

"I'll get you a towel and some clothes."

And then, he just leaves. You hear the door quietly shut, and you blink for a few seconds. What the hell just happened? It snapped you out of your depressive trance. Now instead of feeling sad-you just were confused.

So you hear the door lightly open again and then close. After a few more minutes of soaking, you get out and see a towel and a set of clothes that are most certainly not yours. It's Nate's Dartmouth Lacrosse sweater and a pair of underwear-he knows you too well.

So you exit the bathroom and you see Nate, putting two cups down of you're favorite tea

And he's got that face. You know the face were he's like ☹️

"Hey, c'mere."

The two of you climb into bed with eachtoher. He throws one of those ugg blankets over you. You rest his head in his chest and he pats your head. There's a silence, until Nate says, "Do you wanna walk about it."

Normally, you'd say no and he'd read you a book you're reading or hold you as you cry, but this time, it's different.

"Yeah, I do. You won't judge, right?"

Nate tilts you chin up, and he's got a tired smile on his face.

"Why would I?"

BRAD COLBERT-

Brad may appear horrible with emotions and reading the room...in which he isn’t

Okay, scratch that. He tries to understand them, it’s just hard for him to give advice and use words to comfort you. He feels like he’s walking on glass, But sometimes, you just need him psychically more then anything.

When you storm out of a room when Chaffin makes a comment on your weight, Brad takes a few minutes to think what he should do.

Normally, he’d just leave you be, but he’s gotta do something. Getting up, he follows you down the hallway. You’re not far, and he’s calling you’re name.

You stop in the hallway, wiping the tears coming down toye face. Brad turns you around with his hands on your shoulder. He’s got a blank face on as he looks at you, seeing your red face and the tears.

While you sob and stutter, he fixes the collar of your shirt, tucks your hair behind your ear, which is normal. He likes to neaten you up to make you feel better.

But he starts to use his thumb, wiping the tears coming down your face. You shocked as he cups your face, making you look into those icy cold eyes. He looks like the Iceman, cold and emotionless, but what he says very Brad.

“You’re beautiful.”

Then he pulls you into a tight grasp. He’s a whole foot taller then you, and you like the way he snakes his hands around his waist and slightly lifts off you your feet. His sheer presence is intimating, but for you; comforting.

RAY PERSON-

THIS MAN. although a hick with a big mouth, he does know when to shut up and can read you’re emotions like the back of his hand.

He can just see the sadness swelling in your eyes and the way you pick at the foot at your plate and avoid all of needs for cuddles in bed. Heck, it’s making Ray sad.

So he does what he does best-not shutting up, well-about things he likes about you.

“Man! Look at my hot girlfriend/wife! There reading books by the liberal media, total smartie here! Oh! And they have a degree from-“

Ray will also beg for to your attention and follows you around like a puppy. Like you’ll be sitting on the couch and he’ll come rest his head on your lap. You ignore him, but he starts to twist and quote random movies so you finally give in.

Is Ray annoying? Yes. But did he make you smile? Also yes.

Also Ray is a cook, and knows all of your favorite meals. Of course, he sets the table, lights a few Mantown candles (yes there real google them), and comes to serve your meal with two plates.

“The most beautiful man/woman I have ever seen, the love of my life, the apple of my eye, the Avril to my Bizzy D-you’re hot pockets.”

It makes you laugh, which makes Ray happy. He feeds off of that attention. You sit in Ray’s lap, eating hot pockets, and watching The Best Damn Tour. You lean on Ray’s shoulder, and he leans right back.

POKE ESPERA-

Alexa play Whatta Man’ by Salt-N-Peppa BECAUSE! WHAT! A! MAN!

Poke is one tough mofo. He embodies the meme of “Good morning to my beautiful wife/husband and child everybody else get fucked”.

But like every baddie; baddie’s gotta have soft spots for there bitches. He has two; you and his daughter. And oh god he’s love the two of more then anything in the world.

Poke knows you and his daughter well enough. His daughter first notices that your not as enthusiastic and bubbly, and then she tells Poke. But Poke already knows because he’s observant and very in touch with his emotions.

So when he’s a work; he thinks and does a lot of self reflection. He wonders why you’re upset. Did he cause it? What can he do to make it better? He asks all the guys for advice, and even his own daughter.

An idea strikes! Poke’s got a lot of anger, so his therapist told him to express his emotions by journalling. But Poke learns that it helps him get everything out of system, so he’s a secret writer. Heck, he even likes poetry; and would kill anyone if they’d find out.

While off at work, small letters start to appear across you’re house. Some are long, some are short, but there sweet and make you’re day.

“I held the stars in my arms wen I held you”

“I can’t wait to kiss you.”

“Your eyes stole all of my words away”

And the covers of the notes are done by Poke’s daughter, covered in glitter and Lisa Frank stickers.

You confront Poke about this “mysterious pen pal” and Poke is like “I mean, your lips do sound tempting”

You know it’s Poke, and he knows it, but there’s something about the mystery that is very romantic.

WALT HASSER-

Here comes our favourie country pumpkin

Now let me say. This man LOVES you more then anything the world

Doesn’t wanna show you off (but he does)

So when you’re the slightest bit sad, Walt is even sadder then you are

Walt is someone that lives to receive attention, and also he’s someone that likes to give it. Especially to the love of his life!

Walt gives you things you actually need, and nothing that is materialistic. Growing up, his parents had a healthy relationship, and the apple clearly doesn’t fall far from the tree.

Waits on you hand and foot. A back massage? Done. A fuzzy blanket? Right on it! A specific burger from a joint that is thirty minutes away at three in the morning? Walt’s driving like a manic just for you. You have the man’s undivided attention.

“Walt?”

He stops whatever he’s doing and runs over, getting on his knees, “Yeah, what’s up baby?”

“Can you sing the song? Y’know, our song?”

Walt nods his head, now an eager puppy, and gets his gutair to play the song he wrote especially for you. And this is making me realize how painfully single I am oh my

RUDY REYES-

Rudy has an iv of respect woman/men juice. He always understands the assignment-and desires extra credit.

So whenever you’re down in the dumps, Rudy will drop everything and drag you into the car to go walk on his favorite trail. It’s ten miles long, but Rudy is a fitness freak.

First, you hate doing it. But the more you talk these long walks, the more you begin to enjoy it.

Sometimes there silence. Rudy won’t speak force you to talk. Talking is stressful, and Rudy will wait until you’re ready. The two of you holds hands, and Rudy has such a calming presence. It’s really hard to get angry at him.

You finally speak and tell Rudy you’re problems, and he listens and doesn’t interrupt. He’s got a hand on you’re lower back, or on your thigh. He’s basically you’re emotional support teddy bear and will always be a lending ear, or a total cuddle monster.

Rudy has the best advice as well. It’s always some yoga shit, but damn, those breathing exercises do actually help.

EVAN “Q-TIP” STAFFORD-

Oh Q-Tip. My feral goblin son😭

I love him, but sometimes-things can fly over his head.

But when you start to ignore him and hide away from him, he begins to notice. And he HATES IT.

Like Christianson will ask him if he’s okay and he’ll literally quote a 2pac song and be like,

“I would drop all my girls for you, Walk barefoot 'round the world for you, Fly around like the birds for you, Thats why I wrote these words for you..”

Lilley is like “Brah we gotta help a homie out”

So the three stooges create Lovegate. The mission? to make Q-Tip’s partner happier.

Q-Tip is very artistically inclined. So with Christenson’s editing skills and Lilley’s camera, Q-Tip writes you a song and does a whole music video.

The man rents out a movie theatre venue just to show you. Of course, you’re blown away. It’s horrible and you can taste the autotone, BUT IT’S THE EFFORT THAT COUNTS. and q-tip has that smile on. you know what i’m talking about!

Doc Bryan walks in on the two of you making out and is pissed since all he wanted to do was see the re-screening of Bridemaids but NO, Q-Tip just had to rent out a theatre to show his partner a music video about them and then make out.

He see’s Lilley, who’s recording and asks to interview what Doc’s opinion on the music video, and this is what he’s says.

“I think my ears bled, but thank fuck those two aren’t acting like emo’s.”

DOC BRYAN-

The gif has a purpose. Trust me. SPEAKING OF THE MAN OF THE HOUR

Bryan, like Poke, is a very observant guy. He’s an angry motherfucker, and even a little insensitive, but ever since dating you; he’s tried to change.

He hates the world. People are shitty, and it makes him feel shitty that you’re sad because when you feel shitty, he’s in a shitter mood then he’s usually in

Knowing that his words might sound a little harsh, Byran knows how to distract you. Without words. After all, he didn’t work out for nothing.

Long hugs are you’re thing. The two of you will run into eachother, find a private place, and he’ll just wrap his arms around you. His big arms are protective, and he’s warm, and you just sink into him.

Sometimes, you’ll fall asleep. Byran sometimes will fall asleep with you, other times he’ll gently lay you down and put a blanket with a gentle forehead kiss.

When you cry in his arms, he’ll wipe the tears away. He can feel them against his arm, and he doesn’t know what to do. Crying girls/guys are not his speciality.

But when you squeeze his arm back, to let you know what your there and that you love him, Byran will freeze. He has no idea what to next with words. He’ll put his hand over yours, and turns out; it works well.

After this is all over, he’ll check up on you and ask you simply if you’re okay. You respond with a smile. Byran isn’t one for smiles, but for you, he shows a subtle smile back. Just to let you know.

#carrie writes #carrie’s headcanons #generation kill #nate fick #brad colbert #ray person #poke espera #walt hassar #rudy reyes #evan stafford #doc bryan #generation kill x reader #generation kill headcanons #generation kill imagine #hbo war

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