#once I figured this out i had so many less 'is that the sun?' moments

[grungekitty-77]

Helpful tip: If you're stuck on a "one more episode" binge and you need to go to sleep, here's a foolproof way to get out of it.

Stop watching in the middle of the episode.

The ending is designed to make you desperate to know what happens next. The ending will make you want to click the next episode. The middle? Not so much. The stakes are mid. You're not going to be up all night thinking about whatever they ended it on. It's easy to break away, while still leaving you excited to pick it back up tomorrow.

Pick a quiet moment when a satisfying scene ends, and put it down. Most streaming platforms save your place, so there's nothing making you watch until the end.

[chiisana666]

a sweet treat

synopsis: luffy's heightened senses can evidently pinpoint more than just the smells of delicious food

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, implied virgin! luffy x fem! reader, pussy drunk! luffy, menstruation, cunnilingus, me making things up, dubious consent, pussy sniffing, nasty, inappropriate use of gum-gum powers, out of character for luffy (idk it's subjective), hair pulling

wc: 2141

notes: image sourced from pinterest, credits for dividers here. not beta-read. this the first fanfic i've written in 8 or 9 years, i hope y'all like it. i'm excited to start writing more :)

Up until today, you had been handling your first period at sea fairly well. Perhaps it was the change in latitude, or your change in attitude, but the seas had a mysterious ability to ward off Mother Nature for many months. Nami and Robin had been quick to reassure you that the extension of your menstrual cycle was not unexpected; they, too, had experienced this bizarre phenomenon when they had each first set sail, respectively. But after several months of peace, your luck had appeared to run out, and Mother Nature had reclaimed her stake in your body once more. The salty ocean air did little to soothe your cramps, but Nami and Robin had been more than happy to help lighten your chore load, allowing you to focus more on taking care of yourself. All in all, the first few days were a breeze.

Then the third day came. You could feel the squelching between your thighs as you stirred awake and groggily stumbled to the bathroom to freshen up. It was going to be a heavy flow day, but that would not be your main problem. No, the issues began when you made your way onto the deck of the Thousand Sunny.

Luffy sat, relaxed against the mast on the lower deck, hat tilted to shield his face from the glaring sun when a scent wafted by his nose. He immediately perked up and deeply inhaled; it was saccharine, rich with undertones of iron, and oh-so delectable. Luffy had to find whatever delicious treat was emulating such an intoxicating smell. Rising to his feet, he inhaled again and let his nose lead the way.

Luffy had stalked across the lower deck and climbed the staircases to the uppermost deck at the stern of the ship, pausing every few steps to take a sniff and ensure he was still on the right track. The scent, he found, led straight to you, who was leaning over the rail, gaze fixed on the waves ebbing and flowing alongside the Sunny. You were entranced when suddenly startled from the serene view by a figure at your back and a nose prodding at your neck.

“What the hell!” you shrieked as you whipped around to confront whichever man had decided to perve on you this time. Expecting to find Sanji, you were shocked to be faced with the wide-eyed, raven-haired captain.

“What’s that smell?” he asked after a brief, awkward stare-down between the pair of you, a dribble of drool breaching the corner of his mouth.

“Smell! What-“ you careened your head to the side in an attempt to sniff yourself, “What smell, Luffy?”

Luffy dropped to kneel before you, hands grasping at your hips and pulling your pelvis to his face. He pushed his nose into your lower abdomen and inhaled again, letting out a stifled groan as he peered up to meet your eyes.

Your jaw slightly hung open, hands gripping the rail behind you, “Luffy, what are you-“

You were cut off by Luffy wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging your body into him, a small squeak escaping your throat as your thighs hit his chest.

“Smells s’good…” he sighed, “Lemme have a taste.”

You eyed him for a moment, taken aback at how suddenly forthcoming your captain was acting. Of all the perverts on the ship, Luffy was the last one you would have expected to be on his knees, practically begging to eat your pussy. And in such a public setting no less. Not that you necessarily minded; Luffy had many attractive qualities that had left lingering thoughts in your mind on more than one occasion. But even so, this type of behavior was very unbecoming of him and somewhat concerning.

“Luffy… are you alright?” You inquired, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead beneath the brim of his hat. He nuzzled up into your hand and pawed at your hips, which remained entrapped between his forearms and torso.

“Wanna taste,” he repeated, “please…”

And who were you to deny him? Especially when he asked so politely. You reached down and gingerly caressed his cheek, brushing your thumb across the faint scar beneath his left eye. He mewled like a bitch in heat – a tad ironic considering it was you who was menstruating. Without saying another word, you wriggled free from his grasp and sauntered towards his private quarters. Luffy was quick to beeline behind you, tethered to an invisible leash that you held in your grasp.

Upon entering his quarters, you perched yourself on the edge of the bed, arms crossed, right leg crossed over your left. Luffy stood near the door, suddenly finding himself unsure of how to proceed. He hadn’t expected his investigation to conclude that the sweet smell was emulating from your cunt, and the reality of the situation began to sober his drunken mind. He had never even seen a pussy before, let alone touched or tasted one. Luffy rarely even thought about sex; not that he was a completely hopeless virgin, no, he wasn’t stupid when it came to sex. But before now, there had been more important things that garnered his attention. So, for the first time in a very long while, he felt lost.

You were quick to notice his sudden apprehension and your gaze softened as you called to him, “C’mere Lu.”

He approached the bed and took ahold of your outstretched hand. Your thumb soothingly grazed his knuckles, “We don’t have to do this-“

“No!” And he was back, the scent that kissed his nostrils reminding him why he was here. He had to have a taste.

You smirked at him, tugging off your shorts and underwear. He caught a glimpse of the pad tucked into your panties as you discarded them on the floor but paid little mind. He didn’t care if his meat was a little bloody, why would pussy be any different? Besides, laundry day was on the horizon anyway.

You crawled towards the headboard, resting your upper torso against it, and spreading your legs, giving Luffy a full view of your crimson-tinted flower. Almost too eagerly, he pounced on the bed and fixed himself between your thighs. The smell that first caught his attention was stronger than ever. He inquisitively raised an index and ring finger to spread your lips, running his middle up along your slit, before bringing them to his lips. Luffy’s eyes rolled back, and he moaned at the taste, a mixture of your essence and blood danced on his taste buds, and he savored every drop. It was heavenly.

“Oh Lu…” You sigh, one hand entangled in his inky locks, keeping his face and tongue anchored to your pussy.

Luffy’s straw hat and red vest lay on the floor beside his bed, having been carelessly tossed aside long ago. He’s relentless, ravaging your pussy like a starved man. And in a way, he is starved. He cursed every day you had spent on his ship thus far not in his bed. Perhaps it was idolatrous of him, but Luffy vowed to worship you for every waking moment that you remained a part of his crew. Perhaps he had finally found the One Piece.

Luffy has one arm wrapped around your right thigh, and the other stretched up to fondle your breasts and tweak your nipples through the cotton of your tight top, all while lapping at your hole and suckling your clit. You had long since slipped down the headboard, head now thrown back against one of his pillows. Breathy moans slip through your agape lips with ease. As hard as he tries to keep his gaze transfixed on your angelic face, wanting to burn the image into his mind, he finds himself struggling to keep his eyes open, drowning in his pleasure. Between your hand in his hair and your cunt gyrating against his face, Luffy cannot help but grind his hips into the mattress.

A particularly harsh nip to your clit has you yanking his head up by his hair, eliciting a guttural moan from the captain.

“Gentle!” You chastise, taking a moment to relish in his appearance: his chin and lips are painted in a carmine glaze, and his blown-out pupils beg for your forgiveness. “Behave yourself,” you add before shoving his face back into your dripping hole. And Luffy wastes no time getting back to work.

Using the power of the devil fruit, Luffy extends his tongue to fuck deeper into your hole, curling and flicking the wet muscle along your gummy walls. Feeling a familiar pressure building within your core, you maneuver your unoccupied hand down your body, employing two fingers to rub feverous circles on your aching clit. Your captain, generous as he is, is quick to toss your hand aside and replace it with his that had been previously occupied with your boobs. His palm took purchase laying atop your mound, and his thumb strokes your clit in the manner he had just observed you doing.

“Mmm ya learn fast… so g-good f’me,” you heave between moans and spurts of pants, slightly lifting your head to gaze down at him. Luffy, feeling your stare, forces his eyes open to meet yours, subconsciously fucking his hips harder into the mattress beneath him. It was becoming too much for him: between your sweet juices, the praises escaping your lips, and the friction of his denim shorts rubbing his bare cock, he knew he would be cumming soon.

You can feel the vibrations of his moans against your sopping cunt becoming more frequent, increasing in tandem with the shaking of the bed, a result of the violent thrusts of his pelvis.

“F-fuck Lu, gonna c-cum,” you mewled, burying his face impossibly further into your pussy and bucking your hips to match the rhythm of his tongue fucking you and his thumb playing with your clit. You were teetering on the edge of pure euphoria, tears pricking the corners of your eyes as you drew near. Luffy was barely holding himself together, so close as well but in desperate need of one thing to send him over.

His tongue brushes along a particularly sensitive spot on the roof of your cunt, and you are pushed over. Your entire body convulses as waves of pleasure electrify you, toes curling and thighs crushing Luffy between them.

The essence of release mixed with the metallic tang of your menses is all Luffy needed, his hips faltering their thrusts as thick ropes of milky cum soil the interior of his shorts. His eyes roll back, and a throaty moan emulates from his stained lips, muffling against your cunt that was still cemented against his face.

Luffy lulls slightly on his side, resting his head atop your left thigh which had since ceased to sandwich his head between your right, eyes still clenched shut and body twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. Never before had he felt such intense, unadulterated gratification. He was overwhelmingly high, mind fuzzy from the ecstasy that held him prisoner. Globs of saliva trickle down his tinted chin and pool on your thigh, as tears and beads of sweat stream down his face.

When your consciousness ventured back to reality, you observed his state: Luffy had fucked himself completely stupid, all thanks to your exquisite cunt. The sight is almost as rewarding as your orgasm was. Retaining a quip, you instead tenderly stroke his cheek with the hand that was once knotted in his tendrils.

“Hey, look at me…” you call softly. His bleary eyes inch open, unable to clearly make out your face, “Breathe Lu… did so good honey.”

He takes your command into account, focusing his pants until they calm into deep, controlled breaths. Once Luffy had somewhat composed himself, you used what little strength remained to tug him up towards you. He hovers above you, caging your head in with his forearms. One of your arms snakes around his neck, pulling him down to capture his swollen lips with your own. The kisses are sweet and gentle; moist pops lingering in the air as your lips caress Luffy’s. Your fingers massage at the base of his crown as you two share languid pecks, reveling in intimate bliss.

Disconnecting for a brief moment, you nudged him to the side, and he rolled onto his back next to you. You sat up and tore off your sweat-soaked top before hooking a leg across Luffy, your now naked body sticking to his bare chest. Again, your lips met his, this time more deeply, and sensually than before.

“I think,” you drawled between kisses, still enraptured in the make-out session, fingertips dancing across his scarred chest as they journeyed to the button of his shorts, “I need to taste you now, Captain.”

[wtftarot]

PAC: The Sun

The Sun stands as the counterpart to the Moon. Representing clarity, the Sun leaves nothing in shadow. It speaks of blessings and growth. What do you need to learn from the Sun today? Let's fuck around and find out.

As always this reading is meant for entertainment purposes only and is not a substitute for professional advice in any way. Remember, use common sense, and don't be a dumbass.

Masterlist

Pick the Sunflowers, the Kid or the Horse and head on to your reading.

The Sunflowers page cups Rx, Justice, 7 swords, the Fool, three cups, the hierophant Rx, temperance rx

A lot of things are lookin hazy for y'all, huh group one? The energy here is super interesting. First, y'all are entering an era that will redefine what you think it means to have a balanced life. You'll figure out what it means for you specifically. Which is awesome but that's not the focal point of your reading. There's something here that feels very sneaky, not in a harmful sorta way, more like a heist. It's like you're heisting yourself back. I fuckin love that. I think y'all may have lost yourself or a part of yourself somewhere along the way. The cards aren't saying how or why, which I feel is significant. While whatever happened had its impact, it's so much less important than this, than you, finding yourself again. Now you're scheming and plotting ways to get yourself back and it's beautiful. There's so much excitement and joy here. You may still have to hide them because of circumstances outside of your control but you're not burying them. You should feel absofuckinlutly no shame about it, fyi. You had to adapt, that's all. Now though, you are plotting and planning yourself towards a life that you don't have to adapt yourself to. The clarity you're getting is clarity of self. Things in your life feel a little hazy and off because they kinda are. You only "fit" your life as it is now because you lost those parts of yourself. Things were always 'off'. You edited yourself to what the situation called for. So, as you find yourself, you won't 'fit' the roles in life you used to. You're stepping into a life that gets you. A life where those parts of you are celebrated. Moving forward you may not get many satisfactory answers from sources outside of yourself on what to do. That's cause this is a time where you are creating the answers. You may find yourself doing a lot of inner-child work in the next few months. Deconstructing outdated teachings, or just seeing through bullshit you once thought to be true. Your awareness of when you are or are not acting in favor of your true self is being heightened. Now, this all feels like the inner-shift that has to happen before the external changes. So, you may wanna seek out some alone time or journal your thoughts cause I'm willing to bet you'll be having some epiphanies or ah-ha moments. This is awesome, babe. It's gonna be beautiful to see.

random ass vibes: Cats, 8,888, the wizard of oz, My Chemical Romance, shout out to all y'all with adhd/autism. religious upbringing? Red, "you can't buy happiness- steal it", goldenrod, something about acrylic nails? first time getting them? owls.

The Kid

The Sun rx, Nine of Swords Rx, Four of Cups Rx, Page of Wands, Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands Rx, Nine of Wands Rx, King of Swords Rx

This reading was interesting as hell to do. The short version is: Y'all are intuitive, you're just not letting yourselves simply BE intuitive. You try to force things or second-guess others and it's fucking you over. 

There is a message that you may be spending too much on different divination tools when you don't need them. This reading is cool and frustrating. I had to walk away from your cards because every time I tried to read them, the message was muddled and contradicting itself? I'm writing this a day later because now that I'm not trying to force it, it's flowing like the goddamn Mississippi. I didn't even plan to get back to your reading yet. It's like 6,7 am? I was just drinking my coffee and the reading became clear. Which is the whole ass point of your reading. Everyone has different intuitive psychic skills and different skill levels but if y'all chose this group? Y'all are pretty fuckin psychic. Or you could be if you got over some self-doubt and shit. When I said you're not letting yourselves be intuitive, I mean you may be relying too much on divination tools and signs instead of your intuition. You can strengthen your intuitive gifts, and learn to interpret them more accurately but you can't force it. It seems like you've become so focused on trying to pick up on things psychically, that you're not even living in the moment anymore. Which leads us to the other side of this coin. When you're determined to know and see more when there's nothing there, you can start to take your anxieties for hits cause they're the only thing you got. It's sorta like how when you're looking into a dark space, and you start seeing things that ain't there. Which understandably makes you freaked out, then when the anxieties don't come true you doubt yourself cause your "intuition" was wrong. Truth is not everything is a sign or a hit. Sometimes a number's just a number and a bird's just a bird. A bad feeling in your gut is just your gut feeling bad. Truth also is sometimes true psychic hits are kinda dumb, most of the hits I get regularly are just my cat needing something. It's okay if your intuition is just when produce is on sale. You ARE psychic. You're also human. All of this is confusing and that's okay. We're always confused until we figure things out. This all came out with the Sun in reverse because y'all expect your intuition to be clear the way your other senses are clear. You're looking outside of yourself for something that dwells inside of you. The advice here is to learn to trust your inner instincts. I keep hearing "Play psychic games". Scry out what animals you're going to see the next day. Try to intuit what suit a card is before you turn it over. Being psychic isn't (always) foreshadowing doom, it can be super fun. Try to get readings on non-serious topics. Let your intuition flow and play.

y'all have no random ass vibes because you need to stop relying on external confirmation of your intuition.

The Horse

This reading may be triggering, I'm not sure if feelings of not deserving love are a trigger but just to be safe. If you struggle with depression, anxiety, or the like please seek professional help. I'm just a chick with a computer and a deck of cards. Remember, don't do anything to compromise your safety.

I took some time between readings, and leading up to your reading horses kept popping up everywhere. I knew this reading would be different. I did pull some cards, but they feel unnecessary because y'all's guides are just talking to me. Why are y'all so convinced you won't get a happy ending? Mind out of the gutter, please. Thank you. You seem to be utterly convinced that you will never have a solid, safe, joyful life? "None of that is for me" is what I keep hearing. It's like there is one way to be happy, one sort of life that leads to happiness, and if you do not conform to that you're just doomed to die alone in squalor? There's this energy of I cannot do things my way and be happy. I can't be myself and loved. I just heard " I don't get to.." As in I don't get to be myself. I don't get to be loved. I don't know who made you feel that way but they better fucking hope I never see them. Or better yet, hope that future you never meets them. Cause sweetie, this reading? It's about your comeback. And HOLY FUCK YALL THIS WILL BE A HELL OF A COMEBACK. There's this overwhelming feeling of happy, unbridled defiance rearing its head in you. If you haven't felt it yet, you will soon babe don't worry. This may just be a heads-up. Defiance in the face of every fucking thing that makes you feel like you'll never get what you want. SPITE. That's what yall are embracing. I FUCKING LOVE THIS ENERGY YALL. SPITE IS MY ENTIRE LIFE PHILOSOPHY. This may be sort of a "villain era" for you. You're gonna be spitting in the face of everything that made you feel like you'd never be enough. YOU ARE ENOUGH. I want to be clear, you're not going to wake up and suddenly be immune to all the bullshit you've been told. You are however going to wake up and decide to live in defiance of what people have told you. That's why it'll feel sort of villainous, you may not feel like you deserve happiness (yet, give it time). BUT is 'deserving" it going to stop you? HELL NO! This is giving happiness is the best revenge. Those fuckers saying you can't be you and loved? They're gonna have to sit and WATCH YOU. And you get the pleasure of shoving your success, your happiness DOWN THIER FUCKING THROATS. Sometimes, you have to move towards things before you feel deserving or ready, so you can learn to feel deserving and ready. It's gonna take some work and strategizing, (y'all may wanna chat with some of the people in group one) I am so fucking pumped for y'all. If y'all don't feel this energy yet, you will soon I promise. In the meantime, maybe make a happy-upbeat revenge/spite playlist. Cause above all, this is about being HAPPY.

Random ass vibes: Danger Days, snakes, cats, 666, y'all may wanna look up Hopepunk, zombies,

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 ~ 𝐒𝐢𝐦𝐨𝐧 '𝐆𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭' 𝐑𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐲 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Summary: It's become a ritual at this point for Simon to ask you to help with his eyepaint before a mission, but that might just be an excuse for him to hold you close before he must become 'Ghost' once more. OR Simon just needs some extra tender loving, and we're here to give that to him :)) Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader (No pronouns used!) Word Count: 1.0K words Warnings: None! Unless you're allergic to fluff I suppose :p Author's Note: I CANNOT get enough of this man, and this prompt came to me in a dream haha. It's just very very soft Simon, hope you enjoy!!

The sun sat low in the sky, painting the world in a soft golden light just outside the windows of your room. It was a shame you couldn’t admire it in its entirety, instead having to busy yourself with packing your gear for the upcoming mission with 141 in the next 3 hours.

Gloves, ammo, med kit… you mentally checked off in your head despite knowing that with how long you’ve been doing this, packing your kit was like stating the alphabet.

Zipping up the final pocket, the final run-through was interrupted by three short knocks on your door.

Making your way over, you open the door and are met with the hulking figure of Ghost himself, his regular black balaclava and intimidating skull mask replaced with a simpler skull one.

“Simon! Didn’t know you’d be coming by so soon,” you say with a smile, gesturing for him to come in. He does so without hesitation, only humming lowly in response.

He takes note of your outfit, still not yet in tactical gear. Fuzzy yellow socks paired with shorts and one of his sweaters. While you were by no means the tiniest person on the planet, his clothes never managed to make you look like anything but.

‘Cute’ he thought to himself. There was a reason your callsign was ‘Sol’ after all, with you being the bright light of the task force, a glow that rivalled the sun itself. It also meant you burn just as strongly, your proficiency on the battlefield was very proof of that.

He sits down on your bed as if it were his own, which, at this point it practically was. If you weren’t in his room then he was in yours.

You and Simon had been dating for years now, going on 4 years next month. You had both met even before the task force was created, when you were nothing more than a private and he was a Sergeant climbing through the ranks. It was a slow but steady path to get to where you both were now, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Just look at the man, anyone would do the same.

“Pack all your things for the mission yet?” you ask, stepping into the space between his legs. He only grasped your hips and pulled you in closer.

“Yeah, though I am missing one thing, figured you could help me with it,” he says before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a pot of black paint paired with a brush.

You only grin in response, taking them into your own hands.

“Always,” you reply.

It was practically a ritual now, every time you had a mission Simon would get you to do his eyepaint. It was a simple little task, but no less intimate. It served as a grounding before you headed into the heat of battle, allowed for a moment to simply be close, to exist in each others space before you both had to become ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’.

You situated yourself down on his lap as he wrapped his arms around your waist, the warmth of his large hands seeping through your clothes.

Placing the paint down in your lap for a moment, you return your focus back to him.

“This okay?” you ask softly as your fingers brushed over the edge of his balaclava. Simon only nods slightly. While you couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t allow you to take it off, you still asked every time without fail. It was the least you could do, after all he’s been through.

Tugging off the mask you’re met with his beautiful face. As though crafted by the hands of the Gods himself he glowed in the light of the sun, stealing your breath away.

No matter how many times you’ve seen his face over the years, your reaction never changes.

Brushing your fingers over his face lightly, you pull him close for a tender kiss. No heat or passion, simply love, as though to say “I’m here, as are you. Us, together.” Pulling away, you smile as you look into his honeyed eyes, the love you held for him mirrored in his own.

“Let’s get to it, yeah?” you say.

“Let’s,” Simon murmurs quietly.

Opening up the pot of paint you get to work. No words are said between the two of you, and there didn’t need to be. Instead, you both bask in the comfortable silence and the presence of each other.

With gentle strokes, you apply the black paint, the first of many steps it takes to turn back into ‘Ghost’ when all he had to be was ‘Simon’ with you here on base. But that was the way your worlds worked, it was living two different lives. And while both were your true selves, they remained separate, neither persona belonging in the other’s world.

Methodically you tilt his head back and forth for even application across his eyes while he only relished in your soft touch, eyes closed in domestic bliss.

After a few minutes you were done, and you tapped his cheek with a finger playfully.

“Alright, all done big guy,” you say, but Simon doesn’t move to get up. He only opens his eyes momentarily before pulling you into a hug.

Pulling you as close as you could possibly get, his fingers tangled gently through your hair as he buried his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply.

“Simon! You’ll smudge the face paint,” you said with a laugh, “and get it all over my neck. You have any idea how hard it is to get off?” you admonished teasingly, but Simon only shushed you softly.

“Just…let me do this for a moment, love,” he says, his voice uncharacteristically soft. While Simon was sometimes a man of few words, when he spoke he was heard.

“Okay,” you respond, wrapping your arms around him as best you could before also tangling your fingers through his soft blond hair.

You both just sat there holding each other for a little while as the sun continued to set behind you. As the day transitioned into night, and before you both had to turn back into ‘Ghost’ and ‘Sol’ once more.

Tags: @bloodonmyhands-1221

[evermourning]

'𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰. ⋆｡˚❆

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

WC: 2.1k

Summary: He always knew you would be the one for him. From the moment he met you. And now, he plans to love you eternally. In every lifetime.

A/N: It's Margaret day (Dec. 18) so here is a lovely oneshot in honor of it <3 This song is so beautiful to me and I hope to portray it into words by the very best of my abilities.. also Fem!Reader is mentioned once or twice but anyone can read regardless of gender!

Ever since you were tiny, with small hands that could barely fit around your father's, you've dreamed of this occasion. You've dreamed of the flowing white silk adorning your frame, the vibrant flowers clasped in your gloved hands, the melodious aria playing in your ears as you walked down the aisle something akin to a movie.

In your dreams, the figure waiting at the altar ready to intertwine his soul with yours has always been a mystery, shrouded in a milky fog you rendered impossible to push away. So you'd wait. Wait until the time was right and the sun would shine, clearing the fog and bathing your husband-to-be in golden light.

You know now that man is Christopher Bahng.

From the moment he smiled at you for first time, everything everywhere in the universe came to a screeching halt as you felt yourself falling for him. For the scrunch of his nose and the crinkle of his dark, soulful eyes. For the way the sight of his dimples made your stomach flutter with delight. You knew from the start that at the end of the day he would be yours. He would be the man in your dreams, hidden by the fog.

Now those wishes have come true, and more than you could ever imagine. Life with Chan is simple and sweet. You've always craved the intimate domesticity you saw emanating from movie couples, the cuddling and the kissing and the little acts of service that proved they knew each other better than anyone else.

Life isn't exactly like the movies, though. You aren't stupid. But Chan makes it feel that way. He makes your heart pound with adoration when he comes up behind you while you're making dinner, wrapping his arms around your midsection and pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You swoon whenever you open your eyes to see him staring at you, a saccharine smile upon his perfect lips. You are blessed to even think about spending the rest of your life at his side. It was always a hope, a wish.

But now, as you stare at yourself in the oval mirror, your body adorned in hues of white and a lacy veil upon your head, your wish has been fleshed out and exposed. It is quite simply, a miracle. And now, a reality. It hits you like a truck. You are getting married. To the love of your life, your first and final flame. In less than an hour, you will have the sacred right to call Chan your husband, to raise children and grow old with him. A single tear slips down your face. It is the first of many that will flow like a river today.

From the tent where you've spent the last three hours getting ready, you can hear quiet conversation and a soft symphony playing as people get to their seats. Chan must already be up there. Your heart rate quickens. Will he like how you look? Will he think you're beautiful? It's a foolish thought, as you know to the very depths of yourself that Chan loves every single atom in your body. He loves you when you are at your happiest, your smile bright enough to power a city, and he loves you at your lowest point, falling apart in his arms when you think you cannot do a single thing right. To him, you are the very oxygen that keeps his lungs working and his blood pumping.

Your bridesmaids come up to you, whispering words of encouragement with wide grins before they are whisked away. One after another, you hear the 'oohs' and 'aahs' from the crowd. You fight urges to peek outside. You and Chan had both wanted a more private wedding, opting to only invite family and close friends. And it was 100% worth it, you wholeheartedly believe. Although the promise of loved ones cannot quell your shaking hands and beating heart. You fidget with your hands, waiting until it is almost your time.

You sigh with relief once Minho, your longtime best friend, slips into the tent, smiling sweetly at you as he takes your hands in his.

"You look amazing. God, you're all grown up now." his voice is filled with multitudes of love for you. From the moment these dreams began as a child, you've known Minho was going to be the one who gave you away. He's watched your heart get broken time after time, comforting you each and every time as gently as the first time it happened. And then, because of him, you met Chan. You will forever be indebted to him. "Are you ready to go? They're all waiting for you. You're going to stun them."

And you nod, a nervous smile upon your lips as Minho links his arm with you. The music crescendos as you step out, and all eyes fall on you. They gasp at the sight of you, people clutching their chests with excitement. You can't help it. You beam, your face radiant.

You don't want to look at Chan yet, still taking in the scenery. The venue is outside, not a single discrepancy in the beautiful sunset. The color theme is white, matching your attire, and paired with the vibrant green vegetation, it looks absolutely divine. Your bridesmaids are giggling and waving to you, unimaginably proud of how far you've come. You pass Chan's family, soon to be yours, and his mother places a hand over her heart in silent gratitude. A thank you, for being her son's one true love.

When you look to the right, you see the remaining six of Chan's boys, dressed to the nines and watching the scene with utmost excitement. You can't help but chuckle when Felix wipes a tear away, eliciting merciless teasing from Jisung and Hyunjin. But even from here, you can see they have watery eyes too. They have nothing but adoration for Chan, and they are your family just as much as they are his.

Then, your eyes fall on Chan. His jaw is to the floor staring at you, taking in every inch of you. When you step up the altar opposite him, he is quick to take your hands in his. His voice is shaky as praise falls again and again from his full lips.

"Oh my god, you're beautiful- you're so- I can't even find the words for it. You've enchanted me. I can't speak." Noticing him getting flustered, you snicker. The officiant unfortunately interrupts your moment.

"May we begin?"

The first part is a blur, the only part you vividly remember and will forever cement into your cerebral is Chan squeezing your hands tightly as he looks deep into your eyes and says the two words that will change your life: "I do."

He never once looks away from you. Not when the officiant cracks a joke or two that bring his infamous dimples out, not when he is carefully slipping a silver wedding band onto your ring finger. When he is done, he lifts your hand up and presses a chaste kiss to the ring. It sits right alongside the brilliant diamond he proposed with, and the crowd releases a collective "awww". When you put his ring on, you do the same. It is a sign of respect and equality. There will never be an imbalance between you.

And finally, it is time for the vows. You wrote these the day after Chan proposed. You knew exactly what you'd been waiting to say to him all this time.

"This feels unreal to me. I still can't believe I'm standing here, about to tie the knot with the only person who has ever made me feel this way. I've never been so giddy when I'm around someone. I've never been so lonely and mopey when you're away. I want to spend every waking moment thinking about you if we are too far away from each other to touch." He's about to cry, it's so obvious, so you rub soft circles upon the skin of his hand. "Love is an inexplicable thing. It's fickle and can be mean, and I always thought it was out to get me. But I was wrong, because I was blessed with you. Love is far too soft of a word for me to use, because the way I feel about you could never be explained. I could dig through every page of every book, meticulously searching for the right term to use, but it would be to no avail. So you must trust me when I say that I love you, although there is so much more complexity than just those three words. Trust me when I'm falling apart and trust me when I'm doting on you like there's no tomorrow because just know that you are making all of my childhood wishes come true by being you. I promise to love you even when your hands are gnarled and you complain a bit too much about your back hurting. I'll love you when you finally become the old man Seungmin is always telling you about. And finally, I'll love you because you make me human."

The audience takes a moment for your words to register, before it is Chan's turn to say his vows. He takes a moment to compose himself before he begins, his eloquence taking everybody by surprise.

"Thank you, angel. That was beautiful. I still remember the first time I saw you. I was at Minho's birthday, and it was getting too stuffy, so I went up to the rooftop to catch my breath. You were up there, in all your beauty, and I swore I wanted to marry you right then and there. Your hair was blowing in the wind and you were wearing white, and I was like 'Shit. You're gonna be mine one day' because I knew that you were trouble and I didn't care because I would go to the ends of the earth for you to even look my way. It was then, I knew. I knew that you would make me the happiest man on Earth. I knew that I would love you for the rest of my life, even if you didn't feel the same. I remember our first date, when we curled up on the couch together and we watched 'Tangled', and the way your eyes lit up at Flynn and Rapunzel's relationship, and I knew instantly that I was going to give you something so much better. Your body is my home, and your arms, my shelter. Our youth may fade, but our love will never be anything finite. Our souls are intertwined now, tied together by the string of fate that led us here. I will search for you in every lifetime. Even if you are on the other side of the world, I will travel the seven seas for even a glimpse of your face.l love you, forever and evermore."

His words are like a drug, seeping into your system and mellowing you out until you can only think of him. You tune out the ceremony until you hear the words you've been longing for ever since you saw him.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may kiss the bride!" And in the blink of an eye, Chan's arms are wrapped around you so tightly you fear your body will disintegrate if he loosens his hold on you. His lips are on yours, kissing you with so much passion and intensity that you two are one. When he finally pulls away, he wraps his arm around you and you look towards your friends and family with a smile. Now comes the final part of your ceremony. The sky has mellowed out now, a shady of navy blue speckled with shimmering stars that you would never see in the city.

Hand-in-hand, you kneel down beside a lantern with both of your names inscribed upon it with a heart. Together, you light it and lift it up so it dances in the breeze, traveling up, up, up, until your love has reached the heavens. You watch it go, your head on Chan's shoulder and his arm around you.

"Thank you for loving me." you whisper in his ear.

"Don't thank me like this is a chore, it is a choice. And from now until the end of time, my choice will always be you."

@evermourning, ©2023. all rights reserved.

[etherealbelphie]

An Unwanted Interruption (Ft. Lucifer and GN!MC)

Warnings: Slight romantic implications? (Lucifer has a crush on the MC if you squint)

Word count: 0.7k

A/N: I've had a bunch of Christmas/winter themed stories in my drafts for a while, I figured it was about time to polish them up and post them! This will be the first of many :D This is also somehow the second Lucifer-centric fic I've ever written. This concept had me giggling the entire time I wrote it, so I hope you enjoy it!

I think I added all the right warnings, if I should add any, please let me know!

-Ethereal ^J^

Story below, please don't claim as your own!

Lucifer had agreed to take you to the human world during the holiday season.

While Christmas in the Devildom was alright, they hadn’t begun celebrating the holiday until much more recently, when Christmas became less about religion and more about spending time with those you love.

Christmas in the Devildom didn’t have the same history and tradition that the human world did.

Which is why you were so ecstatic, even if you were only going to a mall for a few hours.

“Come on, let’s go!” You said impatiently, bouncing on your heels.

“The human world is cold this time of year, is it not?” Lucifer asked, buttoning up his jacket.

You could’ve sworn he started going even slower just to spite you.

“It’s cold, but it’s not that cold,” you emphasized, gesturing to your outfit. You two were going straight inside, and you didn’t feel like lugging a ton of winter gear around. “You know there’s heating in the mall, right?”

Lucifer rolled his eyes but finished buttoning the rest of his coat quickly. He tugged on his gloves, then turned to you. “Very well, let’s get going then.”

He wrapped an arm around your waist and tugged you a little closer. “So the both of us will be teleported,” he claimed.

He mumbled something you couldn’t be bothered to decipher -though it sounded vaguely Latin- and next thing you knew, the two of you were standing in an empty alleyway.

“Holy crap, we’re here!” You exclaimed, unable to look away from the snow glittering in the sunlight. Even as the cold wind whipped at you, you could still feel the faint traces of the sun’s warmth.

“Of course we’re here,” Lucifer scoffed. “Did you really think I’d fail?”

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly, though your mock-irritation was quickly replaced by excitement once more. “Now, come on! I know where we are! The mall is this way!”

You grabbed his hand and began leading the way through the snowy streets. If Lucifer had a problem with that, he didn’t say so.

With the enthusiastic pace you’d set, the two of you had made pretty good time, and were by the front entrance no more than ten minutes later. The first set of automatic doors opened, and the two of you stepped inside.

You sighed in relief as a wave of warm air hit you, then you turned to Lucifer. “So, what did you want to do first?”

“I don’t have a preference,” He answered, tugging off his gloves and tucking them into his pocket. “I figured that I would allow you to choose what we did today, seeing as you’re more familiar with this environment than I am.”

“Oh!” You paused a second, thinking. Lucifer always took your opinions into consideration, of course, but him having none of his own was exceptionally rare. “Well, when I’m here, I usually go to-“

You noticed a woman had approached the two of you, patiently waiting for you to finish your conversation.

“Ah…can we help you?” Lucifer asked.

She smiled, pulling a book out of her bag— Oh no.

“I was wondering if you had a moment to talk about our Lord and Savior?”

You were certain you had an expression of absolute horror on your face and couldn’t form a coherent sentence if you tried.

Thankfully, Lucifer took the reins and answered. “Oh, no thank you.” He smiled at the woman politely.

“At least take this, then?” She held the book in his direction, and he recoiled.

“I’m sorry, madam, but I can’t touch that. I may literally burst into flames.”

You brought your hand up to cover your mouth. You weren’t sure if you were absolutely mortified or about to start crying from laughter.

“What, are you a Satanist?” She asked, scowling.

“Certainly not,” Lucifer said, sounding offended at the mere suggestion. “He wishes.”

That response was enough to push you over the edge, unable to contain your laughter. This prompted strange looks from literally everyone around you, but you didn’t care.

The woman stared at you a long, long moment before she finally turned around and left, which only made you laugh harder.

Lucifer looked at you a moment. Though his lips were pressed together, you could see him cracking a smile too.

“I-I’m sorry!” You exclaimed between fits. “I- I didn’t know what to do!”

He chuckled. “That wasn’t the first time, and I’m quite certain it won’t be the last time someone approaches me about my father. I’ve gotten good at responding. You, on the other hand…” He simply smirked at you, which made you start laughing all over again.

[therandomficwriter]

Crossing All The Lines

Who: Aaron Hotchner

What: Reader has feelings for Aaron and dances around them with quick glances when you think he’s not looking. Then reader gets hurt and accidentally confesses in the heat of the moment.

Request: Nope

Warnings: Typical canon criminal minds violence, talks of getting shot, blood, Slight age gap but otherwise age isn’t mentioned, etc. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/n: I know its been forever since I've written anything but I’m back into my criminal minds binge and currently have Hotch brain rot so yeah,,, n e ways please feel free to enjoy! A/n 2: Ngl I've been working on this one since June of 2023 and barely finished it now (Feb. 2024) so this was a loooooong wip but besides that i really hope you guys like it!

You guys have been going at it for hours now. The sun had set long ago and many of the officers have gone home, the new shift well settled into their stations.

Despite the amount of time you and the team had spent trying to get to the bottom of the unsub’s reasoning, which would bring you guys one step closer to finding out who it might be, you are no closer to figuring it out now than this morning.

Reid is going off on another one of his tangents and you are trying desperately to pay attention and keep your mind from wandering, the late hour not helping you much.

Everyone is in a different form of concentration but, none the less, in a similar state of exhaustion. Morgan is slouched in his chair, head in his hand, Rossi on his fourth, maybe fifth, cup of coffee, but there’s one person you can’t help but let your eyes wander towards.

Hotch stands at the head of the table, arms crossed on his chest, tiredness prominent in his features. Your eyes follow him as he moves across the room, removing his suit jacket and discarding it onto a chair. Moving back to his original spot, he rolls his sleeves slightly up to rest upon his forearms, then loosens his tie ever so slightly.

He leans over the table and opens his mouth to begin talking but, if you are being honest, not a single word is heard by you. Your eyes stay glued to his arm, his muscles flexing slightly from the way he is gripping the edge of the table.

You try to pay attention, really you do, but it is no use. Your sleep deprived brain is not allowing you to focus on anything but the man in front of you. If you are being honest, you have grown feelings for him but you don’t dare act on them. I mean how can you blame yourself? There is just so much you admire about him, you can possibly go on for hours just listing off the reasons.

As your mind seems to drift off, you don’t seem to notice Hotch has caught on to what you were doing.

Feeling eyes on him, he glances around the room and soon catches your eye. Upon meeting his eyes, yours slightly widen and you quickly look down, willing your face to not heat up at being caught with your shameless stares. You swear at yourself thinking if he brings it up you’d blame it on the late hour and lack of proper sleep.

Unknown to you Hotch’s lips quirk up, amused at your reaction to being caught, chuckling softly to himself. He looks around the room once again, taking note of the tired faces of his team and decides to speak up.

“All right team, let’s call it a night. We’ll pick this back up in the morning when we’re all rested. Maybe then we will be able to think about this more clearly.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the team quickly gathers their belongings and heads out of the station towards their shared vehicles.

The ride back to the hotel was uneventful as everyone split off into groups between the two SUVs. You opted to ride with Hotch and Rossi taking advantage of their silent personas, definitely not because you favored the first of the two.

Taking your place behind the passenger seat, you quickly got as comfortable as possible on your way back to the hotel. Usually you would try to fill in the silence with different topics varying from the case you guys were currently investigating to what book you were reading at the moment, but right now you could barely form coherent sentences with your sleep deprived mind.

You could feel yourself slowly drifting off, the smooth ride and the sound of the car moving along the street help bring you into a deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to you a pair of eyes traveled across your sleeping form, glancing back and forth between you and the road. A small sigh escapes his mouth as he notices your breathing even out.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Hotch casts his eyes toward the passenger seat where Rossi is sitting with a knowing look on his face. His eyes turn back to the road.

"Dave..." he says quietly, tone coming out as a warning.

Rossi raises his hands in defense, keeping his voice down as well "I didn't say anything."

"I know that look. You have something you want to say," Hotch mutters, face annoyed.

"Aaron in know that look on your face. How long are you planning on keeping her in the dark? You deserve to be happy and I can tell she is the reason your mood has improved a lot lately," Rossi keeps his voice low as to not wake you up.

Hotch moves his eyes towards you one more time, taking in your features, he notices the slightest content smile on your face not having a worry in the world while sleeping. He lets out a deep sigh eyes leaving your figure and focusing completely on the road.

"Because I am her boss and she is my subordinate. I can not cross that line even if i wanted to. I can only imagine what the higher ups would say if they found out."

"Besides she deserves someone better, someone closer to her age, someone her could provide her with everything she could want or need. Why would she want someone like me," he finished off.

Rossi shook his head, "You, my friend, are completely clueless. How could she not want to be with you? Have you seen the way she looks at you? And don't give me that B.S. about your status as her boss, as if that matters. Trust me Aaron, that girl would follow you through hell and back if you asked her and i know you would do just the same."

Hotch let Rossi's words sink in. He kept his head forward, choosing not to reply in order to completely shut down this conversation, not wanting to get his hopes up too high.

Luckily the hotel quickly came into view and Hotch felt himself relax slightly. As soon as the suvs were parked everyone got off and split up and made their separate ways into their hotel rooms. Getting off, Hotch made his way to the back passanger side to wake you and send you off to sleep in your room.

He got to his own room, going through his normal night time routine before slipping into bed. Despite the late hour and lack of proper sleep the night before, his mind seemed to run non stop. It wasn't the unresolved case or fact that the unsubs motive was hard to pinpoint.

No, his mind seemed to be full of you. The conversation with Rossi seemed to have kickstarted his thoughts into a spiral. Eventually he drifted off to sleep his final thought of you and what he believes could never be.

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

Eventually you and the team had finally managed to find the link between the victims and his motive became clear. Richard Cornwall, a local who lives in the outskirts of town on his family ranch had been taking the victims and making them weaken enough to use in his own version of "hunting."

The evidence pointed to you all that he was a narcissist that believed he was too good at hunting the local game that it no longer was fun to him. So he thought that using real people would provide more of a challenge, that way he could really prove he was the best and what he did.

Currently on route to the Cornwall family ranch, y'all prepared yourselves. It was common knowledge that he was a hunter so you knew he had to have a surplus of weapons as well as being on the look out for and traps he might have left around the property.

Parking the suvs in front of the main house, you split up to survey the property looking for Cornwall and the latest person he had kidnapped.

While the rest of the team searched the two story house, you, Hotch, and Reid had taken the left side of the property going straight towards the barn, stalls, and the field. You noticed a deer blind a little ways away in the field making a mental note to take a sweep of it after checking out the barn.

After clearing the stalls, you guys made your way though the barn with no signs of Cornwall or the victim. Reid noticed a corner of the barn that seemed to be where he left the vicitms to bleed out. The deep red was splattered on the walls and completely covered the floor. Hotch took note of it saying he would get forensics to take samples of it.

As you guys began to exit the barn after clearing it you turned your head towards Hotch and Reid to tell them about the structure you saw in the middle of the field. As soon as you opened your mouth, the sound of a gun shot rang though the air.

You were down within a second, the shot hitting you right in your left shoulder causing you to let out a scream, your other hand reaching out to hold onto the wound. You began to feel lightheaded, the blood coming from your shoulder seemed to be never ending.

Hotch and Reid quickly crouched down taking cover in the barn as another shot rang out. They each grabbed one of your arms pulling you inside to safety with them. The yell you let out was worse than anything Hotch had heard, he could only imagine the pain you were feeling right now.

He radioed the rest of the team and the rest of the officers to let them know to be on the lookout notifying them you were currently down. They only know the general direction the shot came from, not too sure where Cornwall was.

"The blind" you let out weakly.

Reid spotted the deer blind a little ways out in the field and let everyone else know the location so they could proceed with caution.

You on the other hand, felt like you would pass out any second now. You felt like you were on fire, your shoulder growing heavier by the second. Soon your vision started getting spotty, white dots littered your sight as you tried to blink them away, tears streamed down your face from the pain.

Hotch turned to look at you to make sure you were alright but quickly noticed the flushed look on your face, your lips were pale, a sign you were soon to faint.

"Hey, L/N, look at me. You need to stay awake for me." he urged, shaking your head a bit to stimulate you.

The sound of his voice was coming in and out, growing louder then getting harder to hear, your ears no longer wanting to work. You blinked a bit trying to focus on him and what he was currently saying to you.

"Y/N, you're losing a lot of blood, they might have to do a blood transfusion at the hospital," he ushers out, desperation evident in his voice, "What is your type?"

In your current state, you tried hard to process what he was asking you. You vision was quickly growing worse and it was getting harder to hear him. You let out the first thing that came to your mind.

"You."

The last thing you heard was JJ's voice over the coms informing they had got unsub in custody and finally found the last victim who was luckily alive. Black soon consumed your vision and you were out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of the ground rumbling beneath you was the first hint to you that you were slowly gaining consciousness.

Soon the low sounds of a siren could be heard, slightly muffled to you. You tried desperately to open your eyes but you couldn’t find the strength. But you could feel a weight in your hand and you tried to flex your hand, your fingers twitching slightly.

At that you could have sworn you heard what sounded like your name. You tried to focus your hearing a bit more.

“Y/N,” you heard a man say.

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before somewhere. The sound of it seemed to make you calmer. At the sound of his voice again you tried once more to open your eyes.

A blinding light above you is the first thing you see, yet everything still seemed to be foggy. You glance at you surroundings, your eyes barely open a crack. That is when you see him.

He looked absolutely ethereal, you could’ve sworn he was an angel here on earth. The bright glow from the lights casted a halo around him. But there’s no way he could be here right now. He opens his mouth to speak again.

“Y/N, are you alright? Do you need anything? We are heading to the hospital right now, we should be there any moment.”

You stared at him for what seemed like forever just taking him in. His sentence went in one ear and out the other, as if he never said anything to begin with, as if he wasn’t even then, a mere figment of your imagination. You couldn’t wrap your head around what was going on or where you were. The only thing you could say was what you were currently thinking.

“I dream of you so often, I don’t know if you’re even real.”

And with that you felt yourself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. The sound of that man’s voice imbedded deep in your mind.

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

A low beeping lulled you out of your unconscious state. Your eyelids felt heavy, as if they were made of concrete, not allowing you to open them just yet. You stayed there unmoving, trying to get accustomed to your surroundings, willing yourself to try and feel anything around you.

You could feel the soft pillow underneath your head and the, somewhat, stiff bed underneath you. In your head, you knew your were laying in a bed somewhere, but for the life of you, you could not recall a single thing that happened to you or where you could possibly be at this moment.

Racking your brain, you tried desperately to remember what was going on. The last thing you remembered was that you and the team had a case you were working on. Where was it? Oh, right, you guys were currently in Texas. The unsub was a fisherman? No, wait, a hunter.

As you started to recall more and more of the case it all started to come back to you. You, Hotch, and Reid were searching the barn. That's right, you were right on his trail and then... he shot you.

'Wait Hotch, Reid, are they alright?'

Your eyes suddenly shot open at the thought of your friends hurt. Wincing at the sudden bright light around you, you blinking trying to get used to the sight around you.

At the same time, all your senses rushed back to you all at once. you could hear that constant beeping again but this time a little louder. Looking towards your right, you noticed the heart monitor displaying your heart rate. You stared at it for a little bit and watched the line move at a rhythmic pace before you realized that your left hand felt a bit heavier that usual.

Your fingers twitched, slowly flexing, trying to grasp at what was resting in your hand. You turn your head slightly, glancing down at your hand, only to notice another hand placed over yours.

Eyes widening at the slight, you move them from the hand, up the arm and towards the person it belonged to. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

In the chair next to you, Hotch was leaned back into the chair. His left arm was slung over his abdomen and his right arm was stretched out resting on the side of your hospital bed, hand intwined with yours.

He look so peaceful in his sleep, which was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression, despite the slight furrow in his brows. How he managed to look so comfortable in that hard plastic chair was beyond you, but you were sure that the exhaustion of the events the night before finally caught up to him.

You watched him for a while, your heart strings pulling at the thought of him so worried about you that he actually slept in that uncomfortable chair all night when he had a nice warm bed back at the hotel you guys were staying at.

The sounds of someone clearing their throat pulled you from your thoughts, as you glance towards the doorway where the sound came from. Rossi stood there leaning against the door frame, a knowing smile gracing his features.

Feeling the heat rise to your face, your eyes dart away from Rossi and down at the blankets the covered you. David knew of the feelings you harbored towards the man to your left, having caught you staring at him a little longer that usual a couple of times. He soon got the truth out of you after a night of drinking, to which you spilled your heart out to the older man in hopes of getting advice from someone that knew Hotch inside and out.

"How you feeling kiddo?"

Hearing his question spoken softly, you glance back up at him and clear your throat feeling it dry from not speaking for hours on end.

"Alright. Just a little sore I guess," you rasp out quietly.

He raises his eyebrow, "A little? Kid you got shot with a rifle, I don't blame you if you said you it hurts like hell, which I'm pretty sure it does."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," you chuckle softly at his words before glancing back down.

You can't help but let your eyes travel back to where your hand was intwined with Hotch's, letting out a little sigh. Rossi's eyes follow yours, then travel up to where his friend slept soundly.

"You know," he starts with a small smile, "he was really worried about you kid. He's been with you since the ambulance pulled up. He refused to leave your side and even rode with you the whole way over here. We even had a hard time trying to get him to go shower or even change. He insisted that he had to be here when you woke up."

You shift your focus up to Hotch's face, taking in the words Rossi was saying, heart melting at the thought. Your mind raced at the implications of what this all meant but you quickly shut them down, not wanting to get your hopes up.

"I'm sure he would've been the same if it were any one of us," you replied, shoulders slumping a bit at the thought.

David rolled his eyes at your words, "You know what I mean Y/N. Sure he would've been worried if it happened to any of us, but I doubt he would be sleeping if those god awful chairs all night if it wasn't for you."

At that you could feel the hand in yours start to twitch, Hotch moving slightly as he began to wake up. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes started to flutter open. The first thing Aaron saw as he fully woke up was Rossi standing in the doorway staring right at him.

"Dave? What are you doing here?"

Rossi chuckles softly, shaking his head as he pushes himself away from the door frame to stand up straight.

"Oh nothing, figured I should probably go get a bite to eat and maybe a cup of coffee. It seems like you guys have a lot to talk about," he finishes, nudging his head in your direction.

The look of confusion quickly washes away from Hotch's face as his head snaps in your direction. He takes in the sight of you wide awake, a slight flush on your cheeks that he assumes is because of your injury. He could feel your hand flutter underneath his as he glances down at it. The sight of your hand wrapped with his causes his heart to skip a beat, the moment it resumes he swears he can hear it pounding in his ears.

Rossi clears his throat once more gaining the attention of the two, "Well I better be off, let me know if either of you want something. I hope you feel better kiddo."

You let out a small 'thank you' and he smiles at you then sends Aaron a knowing glance when you aren't looking before turning and making his way out. You both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch finally asks, breaking the silence between you.

"Honestly, I've been better," you let out a little chuckle, trying to ease the tension, before turning solum again remembering your current state.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I should've know better, if only I-"

Hotch cuts you off with a reassuring squeeze to your hand.

"Don't," he says firmly, "Don't you ever blame yourself for something that is out of your control. You did all you could and your observations helped us catch the unsub and the last victim was found alive."

"I know, but I just feel bad cause you had to sleep on that," you say, gesturing towards the chair he was sitting on.

He lips quirk up ever so slightly, "Don't worry about it, I should be used to it now because of all the late nights I spend at the office. Besides, I wanted to. I wouldn't do this for just anyone," he says, starting to gain the courage to tell you what is on his mind.

"Hotch-" you start, only to be cut off by him.

"Wait, just let me say this," he holds his hand up. you nod encouraging him to continue.

"Y/N, you are the bravest person I know, not to mention the most caring and thoughtful. You always tend to put others first, but are still able to stand up for yourself and voice your needs. I admire so much about you that I could possibly go on forever. What made me fall for you is beyond me, but I know what I'm feeling is real. I kept telling myself that I shouldn't love you, that I shouldn't cross that boundry, but its not as simple as it sounds. No matter how hard I tried, you made me fall harder and faster without doing much," he sighed, "Even if you don't feel the same, i just needed to tell you."

At the end of his speech your eyes were shining with unshed tears. Never have you heard anything as sweet and poetic as that. You could feel every one of his words in your soul as if he was speaking right to it. He had put his heart on his sleeve for you and you thought it was only fair you did the same.

"Aaron, when I first met you I thought you were just a cold, stoic, blunt man,"

Hotch could've sworn he felt his heart ache at the words leaving your mouth, but that soon changed as you continued.

"But, then I met you and learn a lot about you. You actually had a similar sense of humor as me and know how to dish out a joke as well as take one. Your wit is one of the things that surprised me the most about you. Not to mention that you protect the ones you care about with your life. You come off as nonchalant when in fact you care so much about each and every one of us on this team. And despite what you think, you're the best dad Jack could ever ask for. You really are his hero and I don't blame him. You say you admire me but, oh boy, you have no idea how much about you I cherish and appreciate."

"At first I thought it was nothing more than just a silly little crush, but it turned into so much more than that. I couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard I tried, it happened without me even realizing it. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thought I have before I drift off to sleep at night, its like you're all that's in my mind. My heart has yearned for you longer than I knew it myself and now that I know that its not just me, I'm willing to cross that line as long as you're there with me," you finished giving his hand a loving squeeze.

Aaron stared at you with loving eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped at the sight. You looked at him shyly with the newfound revelation of your feelings towards each other being mutual. You could feel yourself slowly leaning towards him and him doing just the same.

As the distance between you grew shorter and shorter, you both were stealing glances at each others' lips. Just as you were about to close the distance, a sharp pain shot right through your shoulder causing you to wince and pull back.

Hotch looked at you with worry helping you lean back into the hospital bed. His eyes scanned your face for any traces of discomfort as you got situated back into place. Your eyes met as if he was ask you a silent question, you nodded letting him know you were fine as he sighed in relief.

Chuckling a bit a the situation, he shook his head slightly before leaning down and placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"Let's wait till you get out of here for that," he smirks, "Besides I need to treat you out to a nice dinner before we could have some dessert" he finished with a swift kiss to the knuckles of your hand that was still interlocked with his.

You couldn't help the heat that quickly rose to your face at his comment. Never, did you think Hotch could be that smooth. Rolling your eyes, you gently slap his arm causing him to laugh softly.

"You're so corny."

"Well you better get used to it cause you're stuck with me now," he replies with a smile.

You shake your head with a giggle, "Can I take that back?"

"Nope," he says, smile growing wider as a mischievous look glints in his eyes, "Besides you said I'm just your type."

The memory of what he was talking about quickly floods into your mind.

Your face flushes a deep shade of embarrassment and you quickly cover your face with your hands, "Oh my god!"

A/n: I really hope you guys liked it! It took me quite a bit to write but i really love the way it came out! I honestly think this is probably my favorite one I've written so far! Just to let y'all know i do have quite a bit planned out so be on the lookout for that and hopefully I'll be able to put out little thing here and there! Once again if y'all want to be added to the tag list the link is here ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ and just fill it out for whatever you want to be tagged for and if you don't know what I write for just checkout my masterlist or leave and ask and I will reply as soon as i can get to it!

Taglist: @uraveragegorewhore @drayshadow @wlfstxr @nikkitc0703 *The ones in red are the ones I couldn't tag so if you want to be added again or removed just fill out the form or comment on here!*

[asterdisaster06]

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing. 

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two. 

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart. 

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off. 

It had gone silent after those words were uttered. 

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did. 

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for. 

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far. 

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset. 

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained. 

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment. 

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore. 

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing. 

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs. 

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly. 

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused. 

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup. 

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career. 

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less. 

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper. 

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better. 

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction. 

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs. 

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained. 

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating. 

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face. 

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.  

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound. 

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion. 

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout. 

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

[itgirlgyu]

SUMMER CAMPUS LOVER. choi beomgyu.

PAIRING: beomgyu x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 1007

"duped by some jaded adults in your college you were led to believe the tales of the beautiful boy who haunts the hallways of your university, infamous for his love that took place in the summer, until you found him, and he's very much... real?!"

"Are you the ghost of summer campus lover?"

Beomgyu turned around to take a better look at you—cutting amidst the newfangled autumn air with the remnants of summer still tucked underneath the space of his eyes, and the wonderment twirling around the corner of his lips. An expression of bewilderment—despite doused in amusement as he assessed the ridiculously worded sentence that left your mouth, not even delayed within the gates of hesitation.

"Can you—" a broken chuckle left his mouth, as his eyes crinkled in futile attempts to conceal his delight, "Can you repeat that?"

You frowned, holding the rolled manuscript of literature club's new fiction close to your chest to strengthen your resolve. You nodded your head with conviction, although it lacked a little less spirit compared to yourself that had marched behind the person whom you considered your only chance of campus adventure that you were going to remember till you take your last breath before you graduated, and busied yourself with the grueling daily routine of a working adult.

"Are you-" you halted, suddenly the wording drawing its sharp realization upon your throat. Panicked eyes flitting from the shadow underneath the setting sun, or the sweet scene that drifted from his body at the proximity you two had finally shared—all of it were awfully human.

He's a real human.

The veracity of the fact that you were being played into an elaborate rumor. on you finally settled on your nerves, and the panic soon seeped in as if it had been waiting for its cue on the line for a long, long time.

Should you run?

"Come on," Beomgyu prodded at you, taking a one step— two step closer to where you were standing, bending his neck a little downwards to meet your downcasted eyes, an impish smile imminent on lines of his pretty lips, "I want to hear it."

"Were you in on it?" Your voice was meek, laced in many components of embarrassment, fear, and rage— so, so much of rage. You were seething; you were angry at yourself for ever believing in some groundless rumors made by bored adults.

Whilst you were tasting the layers of acrid concoctions of those awful emotions, Beomgyu busied himself with the task of counting how many times your eyebrows furrowed as the dots connected in your head one after another; the redness of your bulging eyes once you decided on which reigning emotion you were going to act upon and he soon realized that anger had taken the trump card.

Beomgyu could sympathize with that.

"Were you in on it?" You questioned the long haired boy again, the determination in your opaque tone sending tingles down his spine, and he straightened his back, feigning a look on his pretty features pretending to think of the answer you were demanding out of him so nicely.

"At first? Not really." Beomgyu answered truthfully, shoving his hands into pockets, stumbling backwards with rhythmic lull to his unpredictable steps, "But then you kind of just figure it out, don't you?"

Beomgyu looked at you, as he stood against the burning orange figure of the sun, barely human— looking much akin to the ephemeral phantasm as everyone had made up rumors about, as much as you hate to admit your own ignorance you could not help but accept that such beauty could not exist within the threshold of this universe.

"How did the rumors come to be?" You inquired, your voice louder for him to hear you clearly. The usual sweetness of your tone swirling back in as you let the whole ordeal simmer within moments basking in the magical sun rays—something your grandmother had always suggested to you when saw you huffing and puffing in rage that was far too great for your little mass of body. The anger that was collecting your gut sort of fizzed away as the ridiculousness of the situation started to appear more, and more vitreous.

"Guess I am just too beautiful!" Beomgyu boasted, doing a whole demonstration of his beauty by flinging his hair back, before breaking into soft giggles. Bending across the railing of the rooftop, his laugh eased, and you found yourself stalking towards him. A strange rhythm danced underneath your feet as you contemplated the amount of distance you were supposed to cross over to stand next to him, or if you should at all.

Beomgyu noticed that too—for being a supposed rumor, he was too perceptive of others notions, but you had not expected him to urge you to stand close to him; closer than you had seen anyone get to him.

Dithering footsteps delaying as you waited for the unspoken approval; despite the deplorable feeling of rejection building up inside you. Beomgyu broke through the barrier of your thoughts with a swift gesture of his head and pressed smile, showing off that little dimple of his.

"I don't bite." Beomgyu jokes, with his smile deepening and pulling the corner of his eyes in mirthy mischief. You mirrored him, and skipped past the remaining distance.

"I skipped school a lot," Beomgyu broke the tranquility first.

Within a split second, the moment felt all too real.

You had known nothing but whispers of corridor about the beautiful ghost haunts the story and how those rumors had spun itself with pretty threads of romantic fables—that's all you knew to the man, yet in this moment, with him so close to you—it felt real.

His name— Beomgyu, had blanketed himself with untamed wildflowers that others only preferred to look from afar and weave tales of, but never dared to approach.

You turned to look at him—his elbows perched on top of the railing, and eyes staring ahead into the drowning sun as the evening zephyr caressed his cheeks, and told wispy secrets to his fluttering locks—you nodded.

"You skipped school a lot." you repeated after him, and his dimple on his cheek deepened, "okay, it's normal to skip a lot."

Beomgyu giggled, turning around to meet your stare, and nodded in agreement.

AN/// yes this is my come back IM SO FUCKIN SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING ALL OF A SUDDEN!!!! hopefully this is a sign I'll be back soon and kicking like a horse.

COPYRIGHTS TO ITGIRLGYU, feedbacks and reblogs with lil thoughts are always appreciated!

PERM'TAGLIST @impureperhaps @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @ox1-lovesick @forever-in-the-sky2

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Ten

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4177

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Lots of Fluff, these two can’t keep their hands to themselves, oral (m receiving), two dumb dumbs in love, mentions of food, Readers nickname is Poppy (no physical description at all), talks of sobriety

Series Masterlist / Playlist/ Main Masterlist

Previous / Epilogue

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s blinding, even with the late afternoon sun perched high above Hollywood Boulevard. 

The theater, El Capitan, its signage bold and ornate give the movie house its old Hollywood charm, welcoming those in attendance to the star studded movie premiere. 

There are so many people, stacks and stacks of bodies with cameras and flashes barricaded behind a wall of bigger cameras with more people holding microphones— masquerading as a friend-next-door the moment the camera rolls, dropping the facade the second the interview is over. 

Dieter is grateful the minute you both step out of the car that you had agreed to attend the event with him, having you by his side to ground him, not knowing what feelings or emotions this movie celebration would evoke— but having you as his plus one, as fans and paparazzi wailed and cheered for him after being away from the spotlight for close to 3 years—made it feel less paralyzing. 

FLASH * CLICK * FLASH * CLICK

It’s a precise balance of excitement and jitters, mixing and swirling a heady cocktail of emotions, nerves tickling at the surface— but the dizzying sensation settles, not dissolved but thinned and manageable the minute his voice hits the chaotic noise filled air. 

“You good?” A steady hand settling on the small of your back, his words a whispered question only meant for you, knowing how overwhelming this whole scene can be, even for someone who has been in the business for as long as he has. 

“Yeah, I’m good— it’s just a lot to take in. I don’t know how you do this regularly?” A hint of a nervous crack in your voice.

“Honestly, I have no clue— my memory of them is a bit hazy— I do know though, having you here makes it seem less terrifying, so thank you for coming. If it’s too much, you can skip it? I can do my obligations and meet you on the other side?” His thumb draws comforting circles to the opening where your dress reveals your bare skin.

“N-no— I can manage, I’m sure once we get moving it will be fine. Would rather stick with you anyway.” Your teeth gnawing at your lower lip, keeping your focus on him only, as you both wait for the line for actors, producers and directors before you to continue down the strip of red plush carpet. 

“Have I told you how hot you look in this dress?” He asks against the shell of your ear, a feather light kiss to the juncture of your jaw before pulling back to fix his gaze back on yours.

It's a simple cut, tailor made to your figure. It’s champagne in color with delicate wide straps draped down the curve of your breasts, the satin fabric flowing down the length of your body, the low-cut exposing your back and a romantic train pooling around the ground as you stand. 

“Hmm, I think beautiful, sexy, gorgeous were a few of the terms you used since I slipped into it— I’ll add hot to the list— Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself, Handsome.” 

His double breasted all white suit fit him so well, his white button down lacking the buttoning of the top few buttons, emphasizing the taut lines of his gorgeous neck.

“Alright Mr. Bravo, right this way. You’re going to stop on the designated tape marks briefly, let them get their shot, then make your way to the interviewers and there will also be some fans at the end of the carpet before making your way inside.” 

The sweet young lady assigned to Dieter for the evening debriefed the two of you as you prepared to step out into the sea of flashing madness. Putting you both front and center to the onslaught of yelling and demanding requests from photographers, ensuring they get the angle and shot that their Big-Name-Magazine-Boss will plaster across glossy pages accompanied in tiny print ‘shot by’ next to their name.

“You ready for this?” Dieter asks, almost as if he’s giving you one more chance to bail.

“No, but lead the way Mr. Bravo.” A kiss for good luck to his cheek as he removes his hand from your back, interlocking your fingers together followed by a few squeezes as he starts to guide you to the first stop on the carpet. 

“DIETER! TO YOUR RIGHT!”

“MR. BRAVO! DIETER— RIGHT HERE!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

“DIETER!”

Dieter’s confident and casual demeanor is charming, standing off to the side as he gets his photo taken, watching him as he does his dutiful requirements as the leading actor at his movie’s premiere. 

You study his profile, angular and captivating, his demure half smile on display as he does his best to look in every direction is name is being called to, the way his chestnut locks look lived in and controlled at the same time,  his overwhelming beauty is doing wonders to keep your nervous thoughts at bay— selfishly eager to get him home to have him all to yourself. 

As the line moves, Dieter keeps you close, your body angled in towards him at the next stop, an arm wrapped low around your waist. Your noses nearly touch when he looks over to you, a silent check in and an excuse to give his eyes a break from the bright bursts of light— honestly any reason to look in your direction. 

“Poppy, babe— I think they want your attention.” His husky voice breaks through the riotous hollering, his head tilting in the direction of where the ‘Miss, this way please!’ is being called out. 

You manage to tear your gaze away from Dieter, no real idea where to look or who to focus on, giving your best not super forced almost toothy grin, taking a few breaks to focus back on Dieter then looking back out to the wall of intense flickers— Dieter’s constant need for his sunglasses making total sense now.

It’s near the end of the carpet, where the interviewing line begins. Reporters asking their stream of questions— some related to the movie, others more personal. But all fairly tame and revolving around the shooting of the movie, wanting to know more about how Dieter worked to bring his character to life and if his sobriety was hard to manage at any point in time during filming. 

The focus directly on Dieter, letting you ride through the interview process with a front row seat. 

“Dieter, this is not a role we’ve seen from you before— it’s new and refreshing I would think. How different was it from your usual rogue characters, to play this soft romantic heartthrob?” The interviewer asks, utilizing her time with many substantial questions. 

“Soft romantic heartthrob? You’re feeding my ego right— give me more! It is very new and refreshing, like you said. But also kind of intimidating, since I’m usually playing some asshole— oops— Sorry! Um, some jerk in most of my roles, which kind of seemed like second nature for me at a point in my career. To then jump into this role, it felt foreign and scary when we started shooting— but I found a rhythm and I’m really happy with how it worked with the rest of the cast.” 

It’s ‘nice meeting you’ or ‘great talking to you again’ before progressing further down the carpet, to the next round of questions. 

“Dieter, congratulations on being almost 3 years sober now! That must be an incredible feeling? Did you find it hard to jump into this movie all while trying to manage your sobriety?” The next interviewer asks. 

“Thank you, that’s kind of you to say. It’s definitely an indescribable feeling, but I’m grateful for it everyday.” He gives your hip a light squeeze as he says it. “Sure, it was hard at times— not because of temptation or anything, but because I wanted to be fully present and show the entire team that I wasn’t going to let them down, it’s just something I actively work on daily now. But coming  into this movie in a new head space,  I was determined to hold myself accountable, making sure I was checking in with everyone too was a big thing for me. Plus, it didn’t hurt to have this gorgeous woman in my corner— I was grateful I got to come home to her every weekend, reset before the new work week.”

It’s the first he’s mentioned you out of all the answers he’s given so far— mostly sticking to directly related to the topic and movie. Your relationship is no big secret in your small town, but this is the first the two of you have attended something of this magnitude as a couple, even after being together for 2 years.

You’re not going to lie though, it makes you melt when he looks at you as he says it, awarding you with his lopsided smile and a wink before redirecting his attention back to the reporter.

“Miss, what do you think was the contributing factor in helping Dieter stay on track for this role.” The microphone pointed at your face as the interviewer looked to you for a response. 

“Umm, I don’t think it was anything I did in particular— Dieter was the one who made all of this happen, I was just there making sure he knew how amazing he was doing through it all— and supported him however he needed me. All of his success is because of him, I can’t take credit for any of that.”

The reporter seems satisfied, thanking you for answering it honestly. 

“You better hang on to her, Dieter. I think you’ve got yourself a keeper with this one!” Trying to strum up some playful banter as the interviewer comes to a close. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream of letting her go.” No care to the cameras or anyone around you, as he softly presses a quick peck to your lips— once, twice, three times just because he can. 

“Thank you for your time, Dieter. Enjoy yourselves tonight.” A hand shake to both you and Dieter, sending you off with a grateful smile for chatting with her. 

Each interview had similar questions to previous ones he had already done, but he did his best to give each of them original responses. 

One last interview, a major publication, waiting patiently as you both approach their little assigned space. They’re kind with their questions, which has been a relief for him the entire evening to not be bombarded with any humiliating or embarrassing comments. 

“What does Dieter Bravo do in his spare time now? You’re no longer living in LA, any plans to move back?” A string of new questions are asked to finish off this interview. 

“We own a gallery back in my hometown where I’ve been staying since officially leaving LA, still looking for a permanent place though.” 

“He owns the gallery— I just help run it when he’s off doing his movie star things.” You interject, correcting his statement in a playful manner. 

“Says the woman the gallery is named after. I call her Poppy— Les Coquelicots is poppy in French, also after one of my favorite Monet paintings, so in a weird roundabout way, she does own it— don’t tell her I put her name on the paperwork, so she owns more than she thinks she does.” The last part isn’t a secret because you signed the paperwork, but he loves using the line wherever he can, so you play shocked and laugh right along with him. 

“Are you able to find time to utilize the gallery for yourself? Will we be seeing any art made by the hands of Dieter Bravo?”

“I’ve been working on some things— I won’t say what, don’t want to spoil anything, but there may be something in the works that will be debuted soon-ish.” 

The report congratulates Dieter on his new movie and wishes him the best. 

“That wasn’t so bad. Plus, it was fun listening to you answer all those questions.” 

“I knew you’d enjoy yourself.” Pulling you close to his side as you make your way through the crowd that’s formed at the end of the carpet— agents, assistants, significant others who chose to forgo the carpet entirely, all waiting for the person they came with to finish. 

The assistant from earlier, meets up with you and points to a small group of fans who are all waiting for a chance to meet the stars before they head into the theater. 

You stand back and watch him interact with each of them. Signing magazine and movie posters, pausing for selfies and listening to each of them tell him how proud they are and how excited they are to watch their favorite actor perform in a new film. 

It warms your heart to see him showered with love the entire time. 

“Mr. Bravo, you're going to head in through these doors and there will be someone to help you to your seats.” The sweet young lady guides you both to the main lobby of the theater,  indicating the direction of the main entrance to where the movie will be shown. 

“Actually, can you point us to a side exit— our driver should be waiting for us outside.” Scanning the space for any potential exits that would be easy to slip out unnoticed. 

“Sir, the movie hasn’t started yet— I’m not sure leaving is the best idea. I can have someone come get you and walk you to your seats, the movie should be starting shortly.” The young woman is flustered by Dieter’s attempt to leave early, but just trying to do her job. 

“No offense, but I don’t watch my own shit— you never watch your own shit. You just wipe, flush and move on. I know you’re just doing what you’re told, but if you’ll kindly point out an exit, we’re gonna head home.” 

*

The constant low humming of the car's engine and the way Dieter’s fingers aimlessly map out shapes over your thigh, head resting on his shoulder you’re tucked in close to his warmth in the small back seat, enough to lull you to sleep on the hour and a half drive back home. 

“Hey, Poppy— we’re home.” Dieter murmurs softly as he kisses the top of your head. 

“Hmm?” Lifting your head, dazed as you look out the windows to see the car is parked in your driveway. 

“We’re home. Let’s get you inside.” 

Dieter offers the driver a tip and thanks him for the ride, then grabs for your discarded shoes and your small purse as he slips out of the backseat, hand extended out to you as you follow suit. 

“Oh, shit!” It’s a slight stumble out of the car when your feet hit the cool concrete, falling into Dieter’s awaiting arms, steadying your sleepy frame against his until you're upright and balanced. 

“Thank you.” Voice raspy with sleep, but cognizant enough to give him lingering kiss, a buzz of desire fully awakens you when Dieter deepens the kiss. 

“Mmm, why don’t we take this inside? I think your neighbors have had enough of us at this point.” He mumbles against your eager lips. 

“Meet you inside then.” You purr with one last kiss, before you pull up the hem of your trailing dress and head towards the front door, peeking over your shoulder, bottom lip playfully drawn between your teeth as you wink back at him, still standing in the driveway. 

Shaking his head and laughing, your purse and shoes still in his grip, he follows your lead into the house. 

Dieter’s barely made it over the threshold, closing the door when he feels his body being pressed up against the wooden door, your belongings falling to the hardwood floors with a heavy thud. 

Your mouth moves against his with a fiery want, Dieter falling into the motions seamlessly, his hands gripping at your hips pulling you as close as possible. It’s a dance of angles as your tongue dominates his, exploring as you lick feverishly into his mouth. 

Abruptly, you drop to your knees below him, his eyes blown and he tries to catch his breath. 

“Pop— Poppy…”

His sentence cut off by the sound of his zipper sliding down, rustling of his pants and boxers being pulled to his knees, his cock half hard at just the mere sight of you.  

The press of your lips and tongue against his hip bone is enough to make him fall to the floor, the drag of your upper lip across his skin, breath heated and stirring as you place another to his lower abdomen, wiry hairs tickle at your lower lip— then mirroring the same effort to his other hip. 

“Fuck! Poppy— shit!” His length is hard and throbbing, his mind trying to focus on the way you’re licking the pre-cum as it weeps from the head of his cock, a thick haze of arousal clouding his mind. 

He moans— fucking moans as you take fully in your mouth, his head falling back against the door, a staticy sensation building at the base of his spine at the way he’s repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. 

There’s a lot he wants to say, tell you how perfect you feel around him, how much he loves the way your hands roam about touching every little bit of him as you bring him closer and closer to the peak of his delirium. 

His breath ragged between lovesick whimpers, body tensing in preparation, a slow hum of satisfaction as you continue to move up and down his length— hand gripping tightly at the base of his shaft igniting a hungered fuse. 

“Pop— Fuck! Poppy, I’m gonna— fuckfuckfuckfuck! Babe, I’m gonna come!” 

There’s stars, fireworks, bursts of light. Fists slamming into the door. 

His spend hits the back of your throat, managing to take all of it as he continues to come. 

Warm. Salty. Perfectly him. 

Licking your lips, satisfied with your work, working his suit pants back up, fastening the button as you stand to your full height. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his jaw then to his neck, his pulse rapid against your lips, you pull back to take in Dieter’s blissed out state. 

“Th-that was unexpected— holy fuck! I just— w-when you— I don’t even know, my brain is mush now.” There’s a rasp to his voice as he tries his best to properly form words, pinched brows and  breathless as his lungs desperately fill with air. 

“Just wanted to make sure you know how amazing I think you are— watching you tonight, seeing how much you love being in your element— I’m really proud of you, I think everyone else is too.”

“Fuck, I love you so much Poppy.” 

He tastes remnants of himself on your tongue, and if he hadn’t just come down your throat minutes ago he would definitely be hard and ready again for you. 

Instead he takes his time just kissing you, pouring every ounce of love and affection he has for you into it, your dress bunching and pulling as his hands anchor your body to his, kneading the swell of your backside— your presence is overwhelming and not enough at the same time. 

There’s a low grumble that cuts into two of you making out, still situated in the front entry of your home. 

“I love you, Dieter. But I think I need something with a little more sustenance, though. I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick, then I’ll pull something out to reheat.” Taking a few steps back from him, wiping the corners of your mouth with the back of your hand and adjusting the strap of your dress. 

“Dessert before dinner kind of woman, I like it.” A throwback to your first date. 

“Mmm, you should know me better by now— I’m a dessert anytime kind of woman.” You smirked, mindful of your dress with each slow step backward. 

Dieter pushes off the door, closing the space between you, his mouth molding perfectly over yours, unhurried and attentive. 

“Hurry your sexy self back here.” He murmurs into the last kiss, swatting playfully at your ass before you turn and head towards the bathroom. 

*

A soft ballad drifts through the house as you make your way back to the main living area, the flicker of light emanating from your studio lets you know where Dieter is. 

“Do you want leftover pizza or some of that pasta?” You call out to him, cold air hitting you as the doors to the refrigerator open. 

“Dieter?” 

You pull the containers from the fridge and set them on the island counter, both options sounding like a great idea the more you think about it. 

When you get to the doorway of your studio, you find Dieter sitting, his brush moving with intent over  one of his finished paintings, still finding reasons to add to it.

Arms crossed over your chest, heading resting into the wooden frame as you lean into the doorway, taking in the picturesque scene before you. 

Recounting the moments over the last 2 years that led you to now. 

How every waking minute you want to be consumed by Dieter in some way, he nestles into every single thought or emotion you experience, always able to bring a smile to your face. 

Up until this point, love was the downfall for many of your relationships, loving too much or not enough, a hindrance to your own happiness. 

But with Dieter, there’s a deeper purpose, a greater feeling of being loved and respected. 

His effervescent spirit radiates from his soul, embedding himself into every corner of your heart. 

He’s a tidal wave of intensity, pulling you under and filling your lungs to their fullest capacity, you drown in him, never wanting to surface again. 

You’re grateful for his existence, for barreling into your life at full speed and for loving you with a passion you never knew before him. 

Dieter is your home. 

“That one is my favorite.” You state, moving into the room closer to where he is. 

“Hmm, I think you’re just saying that.” 

“Could be— or it could be the truth.” Your fingers carding through his curls as you stand behind him, admiring each brush stroke and line he created. “I know you don’t think you are, but you’re more than ready— they’re all so beautiful and I’m so lucky to have been witness to you painting each one of them.”

Dieter’s first art opening was next week, but he still found himself second guessing every little detail in each painting— his self criticism lashing out as the days grew closer. 

Silhouettes, every curve and crook shaded and painted in a manner reminiscent of your naked form, not recognizable to anyone but Dieter and yourself. Heads replaced with elaborate bouquets of poppies in washes of pinks, oranges and reds. 

“Okay— they’re done.” He says, placing his brush in the jar of stained water. 

He swivels to face you, his hands resting on your satin covered hips, three brief squeezes— I love you. 

You brush a loose curl off of his forehead, fingers trailing down his face, light scratches to his patchy beard he so proudly grew out. 

“So, you said you’re still looking for a place?” A cheeky smile forms on your face, looking down at where he’s still sitting. 

“I did, didn’t I?” There's a hint of sarcasm as he says it, the corners of his mouth starting to quirk up. 

“Mhmm— is staying on my couch getting too boring for Mr. Movie Star Dieter?” Your head tilts to the side in question, knowing well that in the last two years he hasn’t slept a minute on your couch— save for his afternoon naps. 

He stands, pulling you into his chest, eyes gleaming with an unexplainable excitement as he looks at you. 

“Nah, I love your couch.” He reaches into the pocket of his pants to grab for something. 

“So much so, I think I want to stay on it permanently— if that’s okay with you?” He asks, holding up a shiny object in front of you. 

A gold ring with a 3 carat, princess cut green emerald stone, flanked by two smaller diamonds. It’s ridiculously flashy, looking  exactly like something Dieter would pick out—  and you’re so taken aback by how perfect it is. 

You’re shocked, speechless, in complete awe of what he’s asking you right now, without even outright asking.

“You want to marry me, Dieter?” Your eyes glistening in the candle light, a few tears managing to slip down the slope of your cheeks. 

He slips the ring onto your bare finger. 

“Baby, I want you to be mine forever. Marry me, Poppy?”

Both your worlds, so beautifully different but painted together so well. 

“Yes! Forever— yes!” 

There’s tears and laughter, between shared feelings and drawn out slow kisses, text to friends and family sharing the exciting news. 

 “Thank you, Dieter. I’m so glad I gave your best a chance.” 

Next

A/N: I’ve been so eager to finish this chapter, and the minute I did I cried! I love these two so much!! I’m so fucking grateful for every single one of you who took time out of your day to read, reblog, comment, like, message about this series in any way shape or form— it’s truly been an amazing journey with all of you!! Thank you!! An even bigger thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for her constant support through every single chapter, you are my hero! Epilogue coming soon!

[synnamonroll666]

Natural Instinct

Pairing: Nightwolf X Fem!Reader Description: After a long hike in the woods, you and Nightwolf stop to enjoy the nature around you... Among other things... Warnings: Body Worship, Size Difference (Short Reader, Tall Nightwolf), Shy Reader, P in V, Unsafe Sex, Creampie, Public Sex, Fluff. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: This was written for @mornandil. I hope you enjoy it, Buddy. 💖 Main MasterList: 🖤

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

I walked with him—hand in hand—between the trees, enjoying the nice summer day. Daily nature walks were important to him. He said they were the way to keep him connected to the Great Spirit. He was always so appreciative of nature and all the small things around him. That was something about him that I admired.

After thirty minutes, I had to lean up against a tree to catch my breath. It wasn't that I was out of shape or anything. It was just the heat of the sun that was beginning to get to me.

"J-Just a minutes." I breathed as I began tugging at my shirt to get some airflow going to my body. Nightwolf approached my side, his eyes watching me intently with admiration.

"So beautiful, glistening in the sun. Like morning dew drops on a flower." He sighed before kissing my forehead tenderly.

I huffed a laugh while raising a brow of question at him: "You find sweaty ol' me beautiful?"

"A goddess," he corrected me while tucking his index finger under my chin to lift my face so I'd meet his gaze. "A goddess who deserves the world. I thank the Great Spirit each day that I have met you."

"As do I," I murmured, softly pressing my lips to his for a long and passionate kiss.

When he pulled away, a large smirk soon formed on his lips.

"You know, I never really noticed how tiny you are until seeing you in front of this big oak tree, beautiful."

"Oh, I am not." I scoffed with a playful roll of my eyes.

Though my attitude was soon washed away, because before I knew it, my man was lifting me up by the waist to pin me to the tree. I froze in his arms, stunned by this random turn of events. My arms and legs wrapped around his large frame tightly, as if I were afraid of falling. But I knew he would never drop me.

"See? So small and light, like a twig!" He teased with a deep laugh rumbling in his chest.

My eyes narrowed at him, though I was not mad. In fact, I loved how he manhandled me. Due to my height, many could, but something about the way he held me was just different. 

"What are you going to do about it?" He asked as his little smirk grew with amusement.

It took me a second to figure out my next move. And once my mind was set on it, I began to lean in while whispering a very subtle "This."

I placed my lips upon his once more, only this time it was a lot more sensual than the last. Something in the energy around us shifted into something less playful and more passionate. Before I knew it, his hands were coming up to tangle within my hair, adding to the heat of the moment.

But as this moment continued, I could feel more and more that Nightwolf was holding back. There was always that fine line between us—the one that made him feel nervous about crossing any boundaries with me, making him the perfect gentleman at all times.

However, I knew that I needed more than what I was receiving. So, as reluctantly as ever, I pulled away from the kiss to gaze into my lover's sparkling eyes.

"You can go further, sweetheart." I insisted while caressing his cheeks tenderly. "I want you to."

"Are you sure?" He questioned. There was a look of uncertainty in his eyes. It melted my heart completely and only made me want him more.

"Go ahead, Nightwolf." I encouraged him while taking his hand in my own and moving it to my left breast, right over my heart. "Take what's truly yours."

His fingers flexed over the flesh for a moment as he contemplated which actions he would take next. Then he slowly moved his hands down to the hem of my shirt, carefully tugging it up. Clearly, he was going slow just because he was waiting for me to change my mind. But that wasn't going to happen.

Once my shirt fell to the ground, his hands brushed over my delicate skin. His touch was as light as a feather, ghosting over the flesh with uncertainty until he finally felt as if I was comfortable enough for his firm touches. The way his fingers pressed into my skin, admiring every inch of my chest, had me shuddering in delight within seconds.

When he felt a little more bold, his digits met the waistband of my pants. Slowly, he pulled the fabric down, my pants and underwear falling to the ground to meet my shirt after I kicked off my shoes.

Despite being naked, I felt no chill. Though the heat of the sun was intense, I felt as if it was mostly the presence of my lover that had me feeling hotter. Then he picked me up again, but this time he laid me down on a small clearing of grass between trees. The feeling of the fresh earth touching my flesh was soft and made me feel somehow happier than usual.

I gazed upon him as he stood towering over my form, watching over me as he began to remove his vest. Soon after it was discarded, his jeans followed suit. The sun shone brightly behind him, making him look like some kind of angel before me. Then, as if the few minutes between our contact had been an eternity, he fell on top of me to capture my lips in a starving kiss.

His tongue pried my lips apart to meet mine in a dangerous dance, while he lowered himself enough so his whole body could cover mine like a warm blanket. Though this action caused his throbbing member to brush so delicately across my mound. The slightest of friction made him subconsciously jerk his hips into mine, earning a soft whimper from my trembling lips.

He pulled away from our heated moment to press his forehead against mine while looking me in the eyes with love. His voice came out as a smooth whisper, like a soft breeze by a gentle sea.

"Are you ready, my love?" He asked before reaching up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"Yes, I'm ready." I sighed, as I was already in some euphoric state just by his presence.

Just a second later, I could feel his tip prying me open. He entered me at a slow pace, each inch pushing me wide open, sending a sharp sting to surge through my core. He knew this, and as soon as he was filling me to the hilt, he stilled his hips to allow me to adjust. He whispered sweet words of praise to me as he waited patiently for me to tell him I was ready.

"Such a beautiful, stunning angel." He murmured softly while running his fingers through my hair to caress my scalp. "You are doing so well so far."

"I-I think I'm ready, sweetheart." I whispered shyly as a faint blush tinted my cheeks.

I was never too keen on speaking my mind, especially when in these situations. But Nightwolf always encouraged me to be my full self with him and always speak my mind. If I wanted something, it was mine. I just had to ask for it.

With a nod of his head, he slowly pulled out and remained at the same speed as he pushed back in. There was a certain gentleness to his touches that no other man in my life could ever come close to. He was so sweet and kind to me. Each touch of his fingertips were like tiny drops of water sent to me from heaven to tame my ever-lasting thirst for him.

He was so slow to pick up the pace, as if he were still being careful to test the waters. Though when his tip pushed gently into that sweet spot, causing me to release a soft moan from my lips, his hips began to move faster.

I gripped his shoulders, and the sounds I produced for him acted like a talisman made to activate the wild animal within him. He pressed his forehead against mine—a way he said connects our consciousness and truly makes us one—and began whispering something in his native tongue.

As his eyes fell shut to enjoy the moment, my eyes lowered to catch a glimpse of his stunning body. The way his skin glistened under the afternoon sun, his black hair fell gracefully over his shoulder, and his hips and waist moved instinctively to push us closer to the high we wished to achieve mesmerized me.

Each time his thick tip kissed my sweet spot, I could feel myself falling closer to the edge. It was so intense, it was almost scary. But in all the best ways. 

The way he twitched within me was telling me that he was close as well, and before I knew it, he was slamming his hips into mine hard and strongly. He did not falter once, making me feel every ounce of pleasure I could milk from him.

Suddenly, we weren't in nature—we weren't anywhere. It was just me and him. That was all I could focus on. The way I fluttered around him must have told him that I was near my end as well. He began moving with a new sense of 

"Come for me, love." He groaned in that deep, lustful voice that would send shivers down my spine with each word he spoke. "Come undone under my touch. Show me how much you enjoy this."

As his beautiful voice sank into my mind like a drug, I cried out for him, my voice echoing through the trees and becoming one with nature. My eyes slipped shut, but all I saw was him in my mind, towering over me like some kind of god. He held me close as he worked me through my high, eventually reaching his own and filling me while he let out hoarse grunts and groans, soon finishing by calling out my name like a prayer.

When we finished, he collapsed on top of me. Our sweaty bodies tangled together and did not dare to move one inch. I could feel him softening inside of me, but he still didn't pull away. He whispered sweet nothings in my ear—how he wanted to enjoy this moment forever and never wanted to let me go.

The nature around us flourished like our love as we relaxed in our post-orgasmic daze, and I could feel nothing but pure peace within my beating heart. I knew that it was all because of him, and I couldn't have been happier.

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[yourfavoritefuturedoctor]

Slow Dancing In A Burning Room ♕ Rafe Cameron

Disclaimer: I don’t own Outerbanks or its Characters

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, and Minimal Smut.

Word Count: 1,111

A/N: I know it’s been awhile since I last posted something, but I wanted to test my writing skills a little bit. I’ve loved this song for as long as I can remember and I’m even more obsessed with Rafe Cameron than I’ve ever been, so I thought I’d put together a piece featuring the two. Hope you enjoy!

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

It’s Not A Silly Little Moment

It’s Not The Storm Before The Calm

This Is The Deep Deep and Dying Breath Of

This Love That We’ve Been Working On

(Y/N) (Y/L/N) twirled the ice in her drink with a straw as she looked down at the water that kissed the boat as it made its way through the water, her mind occupied with thoughts of the argument her and Rafe had just had. It had been triggered by the simplest of things, like many of their arguments lately, and she was beginning to grow tired of the vicious cycle. 

“Is everything okay? I heard you and Rafe yelling.” Came the familiar voice of Sarah Cameron, her boyfriend’s younger sister and one of her best friends. (Y/N) shrugged as she lifted the glass in her hand to her lips, the Whiskey burning her chest in a way that seemed less painful than the words Rafe had uttered nearly half an hour ago. She wasn’t sure what to say, was everything okay? The obvious answer was no, everything was not okay and she wasn’t sure it ever would be again. Their love wasn’t the same anymore, it had slowly faded like the sun earlier that day, taking with it the last shred of hope (Y/N) had for their relationship. Her and Rafe’s end was inevitable, but she’d be lying if she said she was ready for it to end. 

“We’re always yelling,” She finally admitted to the blonde-haired girl, her now empty glass coming to rest on the table to her left. Sarah let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding as the revelation came to light, her lips tugging down in a frown as she approached the older girl.

“That’s not healthy.” She stated, turning her head to take in the empty expression on (Y/N)’s face. She looked exhausted, her face paler than she’d ever seen it and her usual smile replaced with a tight line. A biter laugh escaped the (Y/H/C) girl’s lips as she took in what Sarah had said. 

“I know.” 

Can’t Seem To Hold You Like I Want To

So I Can Feel You In My Arms

Nobody’s Gonna Come And Save You

We Pulled Too Many False Alarms

(Y/N) woke the next morning to an empty bed, the spot Rafe usually occupied straightened up and his phone gone. He was no doubt already out and about, doing his damndest to prove himself as the rightful heir to his Father’s businesses. She hummed her disapproval and rolled onto her back looking up at the ceiling for what felt like the hundredth time that week. 

“Maybe it’s time to end this for good,” She told herself, unaware that the man she loved was standing in the doorway holding his car keys. He didn’t say a word as he took in her figure in their shared bed, his heart racing at what she’d just said. She couldn’t really feel that way, they’d come too far in the last few years to just walk away when things got hard. Sure they’d broken things off a few times before, but they always ended up right back together. 

“You don’t mean that.” He couldn’t stop himself from saying after a few minutes of silence, his voice startling her enough to make her sit upright and cover her upper half with the sheet she laid under. She looked at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching vehicle, her full lips parted in shock that he was home and that he’d heard what she had said. 

“I do,” She admitted, averting her eyes from his as he took a step towards her. He shook his head, lifting a hand to his hair at the revelation and took a seat at the end of the bed once he’d reached it. 

“No, no you don’t.” 

We’re Going Down

And You Can See It Too

We’re Going Down

And You Know That We’re Doomed

My Dear, We’re Slow Dancing In A Burning Room 

Another night, another argument or that’s what it felt like as (Y/N) shoved clothing into her gym bag. She had finally reached her breaking point, she was finally done with this charade, and she didn’t think anything Rafe said was going to change her mind this time. He stood in the doorway like he had a few mornings ago watching her gather her things, his head in his hands. 

“You aren’t actually walking away from me, are you?” He sounded broken as he questioned her, not once moving from his position. He knew they had problems but he didn’t think they would’ve ever escalated to this level, he didn’t think she’d actually ever put their relationship to rest. Not after they’d tried on and off for so many years to make it work. (Y/N) sighed as she zipped her bag and shouldered it, her car keys coming to dangle from her fingers. 

“Don’t act surprised Rafe, you knew this was inevitable. We aren’t compatible anymore, if we ever were. I love you with my whole heart, there isn’t anything in the world that I wouldn’t do for you, but I can’t stay here and be with you when all we do is argue and ignore what one another are saying.” She told him as she made her way around the bed and towards the door, but he stopped her before she could take her leave. His hand gripped her wrist like it was the last time he’d ever see her, which it probably was, after all she planned to leave Kildare. 

“But I love you,” He hiccuped, tears pricking his eyes as he clung to the girl, to his girl. (Y/N) closed her eyes as she allowed him to pull her close to him, into his chest and inhaled his familiar scent. She loved him too, but she’d finally learned that just loving someone wasn’t enough to make them stay. Rafe sobbed into her neck, his body trembling as reality crashed down upon him. They were actually doomed, their relationship was doomed, and there was nothing he could do or say that was going to make her stay.

“I’m sorry.” She told him as she pulled away from him, tears pricking her own eyes as she turned on her heel and walked out the door. Forever was what everyone wanted from a relationship, it was what she originally wanted from Rafe, but forever just wasn’t possible for them anymore. Not when all they’d been doing for the last year was Slow Dancing In A Burning Room. 

[mouschiwrites]

Craig tucker x gn!reader plss where reader is emotionless like craig and he’s absolutely smitten w them

Yes ofc!! Sorry for the wait!!

Word count: 736

South Park - Craig Falling For an Emotionless Reader

Craig glanced at the clock for the umpteenth time that hour, sighing deeply at the minute hand that seemed to be slacking that day. The teacher drolled on about something or other; he wasn’t really paying attention. If it wasn’t already obvious, he was bored out of his mind. And he wasn’t the only one—looking around, most students were either doodling in their notes, texting underneath the desk, or straight-up nodding off.

“Y/n!” The teacher barked suddenly.

Craig’s eyes scanned the room, trying to figure out who they were talking about. No one looked like they heard their name being called; they all kept their bored expressions, apart from the few who were looking around too.

“What?” A student near the front of the room didn’t look up from their notebook. Craig was sitting close enough to see that they weren’t taking notes, but doodling idly.

The teacher’s face soured for half a second, but a devilish smile curled their lips after. “Can you tell me which U.S. state was the first to grant women the right to vote?” They tapped the board, which read “suffrage” in large letters, with their pointer.

“Why don’t you tell me? You seem to be eager to share.”

The teacher’s face dropped. “I’m not sure I like your tone.”

The student looked up at last. “What’s wrong with it?”

Craig tilted his head. There was no malice or mischief in their voice; it was flat, curious if anything.

The teacher, however, was much less appreciative. Their ears were turning red as their hands curled into balls.

“You think this is funny? Well, I’ll tell you what I think is funny. Detention.”

“Why’s that funny?”

The teacher fumed. Long story short, the student earned themself detention. And to make an unrelated but equally long story short, too, Craig had already been sentenced to the same fate earlier that day.

So it was that both students found themselves seated next to each other with a bored teacher pretending to care what they were doing.

The student was drawing again. Craig examined their expressionless face, their eyes that seemed bored with everything. They were rather pretty eyes, he reflected, wondering in the same moment if that was a strange thing to think.

“Your eyes are nice,” he noted.

Y/n glanced at him. “Oh.” They didn’t flinch, going back to their drawing.

Craig had said it objectively, and that's how they seemed to have taken it. It wasn't often that Craig found himself being understood like this; he was intrigued, to say the least.

“You’re not very expressive, are you?”

“People tell me I’m not.”

“They say the same about me.”

Finally, a reaction. Y/n put down their pencil and turned to face Craig. “Really?”

Eager to find a like minded soul and emboldened by the attention, Craig was compelled to speak. “Yeah. It’s gotten me in trouble so many times. I guess people take it as rudeness.”

“It’s the same way for me!”

“Hey! Quit whispering over there! This is detention, not a sleepover.”

Both students blinked, turning silently back to their “work.”

Craig's mind was buzzing. The image of Y/n was burned in his mind as if he'd been staring at the sun. He was trying to remember little details. Were there freckles on that nose? Were the eyelashes long, or short? He craved another glance, but restrained himself, feeling the teacher's eyes on him.

A moment later, they finally looked away, and Craig found a folded piece of paper being placed discreetly on his desk by a s/c hand. He found himself admiring the hand as it moved; it was beautiful. The most beautiful hand he’d ever seen… Was that a strange thing to think? Probably. Yeah, no, it was totally weird.

He shook his head, unfolding the note.

Do you want to have an actual sleepover? lol

Craig looked up at them. In the half second their eyes met, he nodded once.

Another note came a second later.

Cool. Just text me when ur free :) (xxx)-xxx-xxxx

Craig stared at the number. His cheeks suddenly felt warm, and his heart drummed at the mere notion of spending more time with this mysterious yet kindred. The smallest of boyish smiles quirked up the corner of his mouth, and he stuffed the note in his pocket. He was so texting them the minute he got home.

Thank you for the request! And thanks so much for reading, take care you beautiful souls <33

(divider by saradika)

[flyingsilversage-blog]

Tom sat by his favorite window in the library. The panes always showed stormy weather outside, some magical quirk in the glass, and today it appeared as if the grounds were flooded with deep pools of water nearly reaching the walls in the courtyard. His neat homework sat mostly finished nearby. He didn't rewrite his essays like many of his housemates, but this one may need another draft, and he couldn't be bothered to fetch another roll of parchment at the moment.

Instead, he gazed outside, his thoughts drifting to the summer. Muggle papers had reported a blitzing of London, and he wasn't even sure Wool's stood anymore. If it didn't, where would he go? Dippet has delivered his refusal that morning at breakfast, and it had taken every muscle in Tom's face to not twitch into obvious dismay. Or fear. Never, never fear.

The chair across from his dragged on the wooden library floor, and Tom snapped his head to look at the messy bed of curls covering Harry's head as he sat down clumsily. He smelled like sunshine and wind, and his cheeks were red from flying. Harry held his gaze for a moment before looking out the window and grimacing. "Wow, this view's depressing. You know the sun is actually out for once, you should sit by a real window and get some before it disappears. Or Merlin forbid, go outside and be less of a swot for once."

"I quite like this one, thank you. And what brings you to the library on a sunny Sunday? Are you developing responsibility this late in the school year?"

"I saw you get a letter at breakfast. Bad news, I assume. What, did Mrs. Cole figure out how to send a letter and tell you we weren't welcome at the orphanage anymore? Actually, can't be that, I'm sure I'm not the only one who'd be pleased to never go back."

Tom kept his face still as he looked out the window again. "It doesn't concern you, Harry," he lied. He'd hoped if he was able to stay the summer at Hogwarts, Harry would too.

"Of course it concerns me, if it makes you look like a doll. What's with that face? Tell me it was Malfoy telling you that you're some descendant of a horrible necromancer or something, and you're pissed that you can't brag about it."

Tom raised an eyebrow as he glanced back at Harry. "What a colorful imagination. Hitting the novels again, I presume."

Harry blushed. "Well, yes, but answer the question, Tom! What was the letter about? You can trust me, you always have."

No, there was so much he kept from Harry, who was sweeter than him, who wouldn't understand all the terrible things he'd done to keep them both safe. He couldn't know, he wouldn't understand. Tom knew that. "I'd sent a letter inquiring about an apprenticeship at the apothecary on Side Wall Street, and was denied since I was too young. They told me to reapply after OWLS, that's all."

"Oh, bummer then. It would've been nice to have an excuse to hang around Diagon all summer. Hey, maybe I could apply for an apprenticeship at the Quidditch shop, maybe they'll be impressed at youngest Seeker in a decade!"

Tom smiled, agreeing that he should take the chance

[yakuly]

Desaparecer | B. CH

Pairing: IdolBangChan x NonIdolreader (mainly neutral gender, but reader has a female body)

Words: 1.3017 (sorry)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please stay safe people), marking (both), oral (reader receive) Chan slightly soft Dom but he's also a little shit at the beginning, slight overestimulation (reader receive), and they are both a little insecure at the end of it.

This work it was requested!

A/n: first of all, I'm kinda impressed with myself for the good warning tags (yay), second of all I hope the anon that request like It, and who reads it too. I loved to write it, and got even more better than what I planned. And also it's been a while since I wrote a smut, so please be honest with it (but not mean tho), and I haven't proof readedz so who knows. That's for the attention, and food reading!

(the gift isn't mine, credit to the beloved soul who made it! ❣️)

💌: @marcillfll

For many days you wondered if it what are you doing? You have a really good life, a very stable routine, finding happiness in little details... But is your boyfriend actually part of it?

It should be, right? He is your boyfriend afterall! You should be happy with his company, his words, his presence, your special days, your regular days that turned into something special because of him... Except Christopher Bang it isn't a regular guy with a regular position, that can provide you all of that.

He's a international Korean Idol, and more importantly a very needed base to his group "Stray kids". Sonic it's hard to have a very knowing boyfriend, that has a lot of responsibilitys, add the fact that you need to keep your relationship a secret.

So that perfect relationship you dreamed for years, it isn't actually like you dreamed of...

Well you got really lucky with Chris! He's a very sensitive, romantic, attentive, sweet boyfriend; he is also really reliable about anything and everything, and you can't lie, he's a ver ver good looking boy. But sometimes you just can't get away with the feeling that you don't actually have him.

Something that Bang Chan is actually pretty aware of it. That's why he decided to plan a weekend only, giving the both of you hours of moments alone together.

You didn't actually knew what he was planning on, but once, in a very boring and slow Friday, you recieved a text from him, saying that you should pack some stuffs for a weekend a way, you knew you couldn't be disappointed.

...

"Morning my love!" Chris voice being the first one you listen on a Saturday morning, it was a hell of an indication you would have a really good day.

You were finishing getting ready with for meeting him in only a couple of minutes, until you hear his voice coming from your living room. Running after him, you can't help but jumping on his embrace, giggling just like he did when he saw your figure.

"Missed you" you mumble on his neck, ticking slightly, but Christopher couldn't care less. He hugged your body closer to his, both of you selling each other's perfume. "Missed you too my love"

"Where are we going?" You asked finally taking your head out of his neck to look at his gorgeous features, and like that you catched his eyes shining bright, and you felt the warm of his love through it.

Bang Chan smiled, one of his childish smiles, that you slightly mirror it. The boy Negou com a cabeça shaked his hands before saying "Sorry love, confidential information" and laughed at your whining about it.

...

You had no idea where Chan was taking you, but you knew it was very far, since when more trees started to appear, he loses his face mask and cap, keeping only his sun glasses, making him even more beautiful.

"The view it's on the other side, y'know?" The boy jokes, but you hold his hands and simply say: "really? I don't think it could compare to what I'm seeing" and those words made the boy blush and giggle, and God, how you missed this sound!

Trying to take away the attention, he turn on the volume of the radio, and laying his hands on your thighs squeezing it a little bit. And you can't control those goosebumps that spread your skin at it, so you tried to play it cool, and got your phone in hands.

"Chanie, not to be that person, but you know we are getting without phone signal, right?" you didn't really care much about it, but as a leader, composer and producer, Bang Chan basically needed that like air.

"I know" he simply said, quickly looking at you and smiling "it's for to turn the phone off, so no one can bothers us" Christopher than holded you hand on his lips, where he kissed "we're going to... desaparecer"

...

The place your boyfriend booked it was really nice. It was a simple regular house, but it had a nice view of trees, the sky pretty clear, and the moon shining very bright and perfect.

"What we should do first?" You ask feeling his arms sneaking around your waist, and that alone makes your heart beat hard and fast. Chan begins to trails soft kisses on your neck, and you shivers under his touch.

"Huuum how about..." he starts speaking still trailing kisses that makes the air leave your lungs, and close your eyes, feeling very conscious about his body pressed against yours. "...you going to the room, take a nice shower, dress fancy, and come down here so I can give you a amazing date night?"

You smile turning around on his embrace. Holding his face in your hand, you caress his cheek, taking in the whole bang Chan you have in your arms. Your eyes wander his face until reach his voluptuous lips, and slowly you get your face closer to his, seeing the boy you now holding do the same, closing his eyes after staring at your lips. He can already feel the taste of your gloss on him...

"Okay" your voice make him open his eyes, only to find you already leaving him alone. Chan needs some seconds to understand and recover, letting out a snort, but laughing along.

...

You took a very calm and relaxing shower, took your very precious time to get ready, and choosing a very sexy clothe you had. Specially black, Chan's favorite color.

"Can I go now?" You open the room's door and asks loud so your boyfriend can hear you. Finally you recieved a positive response and went after him. "What you have for me?" You ask when you see him on his back.

Christopher turn around and stop. You saw his mouth form a perfect 'o', and him starting to mumbling trying to say something. And Bang Chan, feel the whole world stop once his eyes met your figure, sou gorgeous in front of him... He knew he had to say something, that's why he tried, but his brain couldn't work properly.

"Uh... Love, are you by any chance... Hum hungry?" The boy asks, still looking up and down. You smile, deciding to tease him just a little bit more, then pretending to think a little longer.

"Huuummm... I don't know, why?" Chris then slowly gets closer to you, staring at your eyes, making easy for you to realize how dark they were. And tiu can't help but already feel affected by him.

"Because my love..." He starts to speak, and everytime he gets closer, you take a step back, soon reaching the wall "I was going to give you a really nice and romantic dinner, but seeing you like this..." Chan smirks, and take his hands to your face. He holds by you chin, making you already loose your senses, and look at hia face, heart pounding in your chest "I can only think about taking this clothes out of you, and fuck the shit out of you." The way the man was holding you, and staring at you, and your knees get week, but Chan it's pretty fast, holding you, and smirking even more "you're going to scream my name so people on the other side of the town will hear you... Is that good for you my love?" He asks, and you obviously confirm nodding "words love"

"Yes chanie" it's all you can say, before his lips are on yours.

Christopher glue your body to his, pulling you closer, and only stabilizing you with his knees between your legs. As soon as his tongue get inside of your mouth, you let him dominate the kiss, and yourself. Bang Chan take his hands out of your face, to your hip, firmly pressing you against his thighs.

You are completely taken by him, letting your hand walk through him, but ending on his nape, griping slightly hard at his hair once he makes your hips move on top of him. You gasp at his lips, and Chan smiled. The boy have the audacity to pull apart, and stare at you, smiling like a devil.

"Let me look at you" he cooed, holding your face once again, and moving your hips against his muscle. You feel the electricity run your whole body, once the angle it was making his thigh reach your clit. "Fuck I missed that pretty face of yours"

Chan let a soft kiss on your mouth, before trailing kisses to your neck, and picking you up. He laid you down at the soft mat, hovering on top of you.

You could feel his lips everywhere. And then his tongue, and some bitting, and definitely a lot of marking...

"I'm going to fuck you" bang Chan begins to undress you, throwing them somewhere "no breaks. No pause" his voice was low, and made your whole body shake "I'm going to fuck you"

You had no idea that you were already naked in front of him, all you knew it was that Chan was leaving sweet kisses at your belly, then at your thighs...and he was painfully slow at it.

"Chan" you called for him, unsure of what to say. The boy looked at you smirking like the devil he is, but diving his face inside of you, making you call for him, but in a more urgent way "chan!"

When you heard people saying that rappers where good at giving oral, you didn't minded much about it, but you couldn't denied now that they were correct. Very correct.

"Fuck" he said hoarse voice slightly muffed by your body "you don't have any idea how much I missed your taste, love" it was all you heard before Chan dives in you, for real this time.

Christopher flicked his tongue on your clit, making you shiver and instinctively grab his hair, trying to gain some control over the man (but you knew better than that). You catch his dark eyes staring at you, when you feel him giving your pussy a long stripe, and you swear you can feel your soul leaving your body at the sight.

"Can you keep looking at me, beautiful?" Chan suddenly asks very nicely, and you on your week state, confirm with a nod. Chan maintain eye contact with you, and you almost can't notice his hands grabbing your thighs in a much stronger grip, only so he can comeback to his work on you.

Chan a man on a mission, moaning on you while his tongue work inside of you, taking away all the air in your lungs, making you squirm and weakly moan his names.

It felt so good. It always felt good, but your boyfriend made a promise to himself that today it was all about you. So he was planning on devour your body in many ways.

That's why when your body started to giving signs that you were about to cum, nada you started to say it yourself, all he did was raise his eyebrow indicating that he was okay with it, but never stopping his movements.

"Chan..." You called kinda as a warning, that the knot in your stomach it was about to release, but he holds you even closer and keep on eating you out. "God, Chan!" You called more desperate, your grip getting more strong on his hair, and he moan, diving impossibly more inside of you "Chan!" You definitely screamed, feeling your orgasm taking over all of your body.

With eyes closed all you wanted it was to let the feeling go, but Chan took a little more of his time with you, keeping his tongue working while holding your body trambelling on the floor.

"I love you" Christopher's voice slightly brought you back to reality. Your breathing it was uneven, so he made sure he's touch on you it was lightly and soft.

He kissed your legs, making his way to your torso, and face. And he's eyes met yours, and he chuckled while watching you coming back to reality. He was very soft, caressing your cheek, looking ver foundy at your face. Chan also gave you pecks, and kisses to your lips and face, making you giggle.

"welcome back, my love" Chan jokes, grabbing your hand and kissing your fingers. You weekly answers with a "hi" and the brightest smile for the night. "Are you okay?" He asks, softly touching every peace of your body he could reach "good, because I'm not done with you love"

And his lips were back to your body. Focusing on your breasts, one at time with his lips, leaking, kissing and bitting, you could feel the bruisings forming where he bit. And then he touched them. For only he starts to intercalate tongue and hands. He knew you and your body, and as he was right, you were ready for him once again.

"Can I?" You weekly asks for him, indicating his clothes. Chan brightly smiles and sits up with you, so you can undress him.

His jacket go out really fast, but his shirt goes out slowly, since you wanted to feel him too, unbuttoning you kiss his torso just like he did with yours, but being a little more carefull not to mark him.

"Love do you want to mark me up?" He asked smiling when you look at him with puppy eyes "can I?" After his approval your lips were everywhere on his skin, marking whenever you reached.

"Fuck love" he pantted at your willing "I'm sorry but I need to fuck you. Now" Chan growled laying you once again.

You felt his tip at your entrance, but before he got inside of you, he hover his body on top of yours, and kiss you. You feel all the love he feels for you, and then you feel all the cock he gives to you.

Chan filled you up. To the very brin.

"Chan please move" you request, lips still touching. He smiles and starts to move, slightly pulling back only to fastly thrust again inside of you.

Bang Chan started to pound inside of you like he could die if he didn't. Or like you were a goddess giving him the forbidden fruit.

All you could do it was moan, and grab his body against yours, nails digging into his back. You could do this all day everyday.

"Chan please don't stop" you begged once again, and he loved to listen to your voice so desperate for him. And fuck he wished he could record it.

"I can feel every peace of you, my love" he said in your ears, not needing much to feel your orgasm without any warning.

Your juices, moans, low grunts, your bodies... It was a very intense and delicious symphony for Chris ears. And for that he was losing himself inside of you.

Once he felt he couldn't hold any longer, Chan pulled off and realised his loads on your belly and breasts. Collapsing he fell besides you, but holding eye contact.

...

After that intense sex section you had at the leaving room, Chan helped you to clean it up, and prepare a relaxing bath witch he gladly joins you.

"Can I ask you something?" You now hoarse voice weakly speaks at the econof the bathroom. Your answer it was a hum and your boyfriend smuggling closer to you, head on your neck "why you suddenly decided to take this weekend off?"

"Humm..." the brunet hummed before answering, fingers playing with yours "I know that we don't get to have too much of a time for us, and I saw something that kinda scared me, so I decided that I was going to take care of us better. Starting today."

He's words cough you out of guard, and that made you look at him in the best way you could "can I ask what scared you?"

"Remember that night we went to grab some soju before heading home?" He recalled, and you decided to make fun of him, recalling that day "you ment that one that you decided to eat ice cream while full on masks to hide yourself?"

Chan's laugh filled the bathroom and you followed him, felling his arms embrace you even more "Yes, the bees one..." but tone for serious after that "I saw a happy couple that day. They were on the other side of the street, and they seem so happyz and they kept on hugging each other and..." you found a weird way to sit at the tub, and get in front of him, so you hold his face to stare at you, what apparently brought him back "and I got scared you want something like that... Something that I can't give to you..."

"Chanie" you tried to speak, but he interrupts you "and honestly I thought the best it was to..."

"Don't you dare finish that sentence!" You almost shout at his face. Chan it was indeed vulnerable, and you respected him for that, knowing how hard it is for him, even to this day to be more open with you, and so you also knew better than to keep repeating cliches, "Chanie, can you promise me one thing?" His eyes were curious over you "whenever you feel insecure over us, for anything, tell me. So we can workout okay?"

"That it's very brilliant my love" Chan smiles, kissing you "are you going to do the same?" The both of you came back to your position

"Sure, like you know" you start feeling him leaving random kisses on you "sometimes I think you're going to leave me for one of your exes, or someone that knows your lifestyle better"

Chan's fingers grasped your chin, making you look at him "well, they try to get into me, but it's you the one I'm planing to marry, my love".

[oogaboogasphincter]

After the Beep | Dieter Bravo x afab!reader

gif by @joelmjller

In your absence after last night’s rendezvous, Dieter has some fun with dirty voicemails.

word count/rating/warnings - 2800+ // swearing, recreational drug use (weed, reader and dieter both use), alcohol (only dieter) EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY: masturbation (m), anal play/fingering (m receiving), edging/orgasm denial (m), descriptions of oral (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex (use protection irl obvi), anal sex (f receiving), mentions of strap-ons and gaping (?:!/!:), idiots in love sorta

a/n - this is such a strange fic? idk if i like the style i went with (not my usual)?? there are so many things in here that are just not me lol but i wrote about it anyways??? i hope you enjoy! <3

A hungover Dieter jolts awake when a strong, cold breeze whips through the open patio doors, skimming across his uncovered ass and raising goosebumps in its wake. He grumbles, blearily reaching for his sunglasses and jamming them on his face crooked before reluctantly slumping out from the sheets. As he goes to shut the offending doors, he pauses a moment and remembers that he's forgotten where he is. The absence of car horns, construction ambience and groans from other waking bodies staggers him further into disorientation. He squints out at the pristine backyard that greets him - exotic foliage manicured to the nth degree, a crisp swimming pool gleaming fierce in the morning sun, and not another soul in sight.

Ah, yes, he's at his actor friend's "getaway" house while he's in town for... what was it? Not an interview (it'll be a while before the next one since he botched the last so bad), not a movie (at least hopefully not, any and all scripts have been completely obliterated from his mind for the time being), what was it...

He closes the glass doors and absentmindedly scratches his stubbly balls, still staring out at the calm, confined water even though his pupils are hurting. The softness of his t-shirt against his fidgeting forearm surprises his delayed senses, as he doesn't remember putting it on when he went to sleep...

And suddenly all his questions are answered.

You.

He's in town because he wanted to see you. Dieter's not one for committal, romantic feelings, but his honesty wins over his ego when he admits that he needed to see you. Although you began simply as his favorite bootycall of this specific city, he grew fonder of you than he ever has for anyone else he has a similar exchange with. No matter the carnal options, no matter the city or time, he found himself requesting you over and over again. Whenever he tried to quench his thirst with another body, another substance, another side job, he was left parched and belittled.

You make him feel free. Not only because you aren't in the public eye (although that does help ease his paranoia when he's on a downward spiral), but because of the way you give him the space to be himself. He doesn't have to put on a performance for you, nor is he prohibited from expressing his innermost desires. He never once felt in your presence that he had to think too much about or hide what he was doing. You'll be there to listen, always, like he is for you. You tried to explain to him once that it was the least you could do, but common courtesy and decency doesn't extend far or hold very much genuine meaning in his industry, so it confuses him. You intrigue him; the way your mind works, he wants to translate your brainwaves to puzzle pieces and figure out how to put you together over and over again.

On a less heartfelt note, in combination with all of this - he's had some of the best orgasms of his life when he's with you. Maybe the trust correlates with lowered inhibitions, but your talents alone speak for themselves.

He grins to himself, eyeing the only article of clothing he's wearing: his shirt that you had fallen asleep in last night.

Minutes after he called you and told you he was in town, you were rapping on this unknown front door and pouncing on your tipsy lover. Winding your arms tight around his broad shoulders to bring him down to your height, wasting no time licking into his mouth, and hiking your leg up over his hip, almost tumbling the two of you over, he picked you up and took you straight to the bedroom. Hours upon hours passed, and you finally gave your sweaty skin a break by slipping on his worn shirt, relishing in the cool yet thin barrier it posed between your heaving chests.

Unfortunately, to Dieter's whiney dismay, you couldn't call off work the next day. You stretched away from his slack body with a teasing groan while it was still dark in the morning, giving him a show of taking off his shirt and throwing it at his face in retaliation to his smack on your ass. You thought he had fallen asleep before you left, but he dismally watched you leave, his heart bursting as you tried to keep quiet for him, and pulled the shirt on inside-out for your lingering smell and warmth to lull him back to sleep.

Before his brain can recall the explicit details of your rapturous night together, his cock is standing at attention. He was half-hard when he woke up, but now the veins that run alongside his length are rigid and his tip is a warm red, bobbing in the air. You were so ravenous for Dieter last night, and his energy sluggish thanks to a couple of drinks, that you had taken the reins and snatched every moan, groan and whimper you wanted from him.

Both being switches - and the previous rendezvous you had being him pinning you against the bathroom sink at his favorite restaurant, yanking your hair and making you stare back at yourself in the mirror, crumpling in his arms as you took his relentless pounding - it was a nice change-up.

But Dieter hates repetition.

Now all hot and bothered by racy thoughts of you, he swings the patio doors back open and plops down on the bed, resting his aching back against the headboard (he came to reason it wasn't just his aging muscles, you really had ridden him to oblivion.)

He artfully runs both hands over his naked groin, fingertips skating up his shaft and encircling the head in a tight ring, pulsing his frenulum once, twice, then releasing with a pent-up groan. He bobs himself a couple times, chuckling at his own absurdity. With the house all to himself, nowhere to be, nothing worthwhile to do until you get off of work, he chucks his sunglasses onto the sheets beside him. Oh, he's going to have some fun this morning.

It might be technically closer to afternoon, it's hard to tell in this city that always suns, but he doesn't care. He does care to take advantage of the circulating breeze pouring from outside into the room, and before settling deeper into the bed to begin his session, he leans over to the nightstand and grabs a joint.

Thank you, earlier Dieter, he congratulates on the first inhale, glad that he busied his depressed self after you left this morning with rolling more than what was necessary. He pauses to spit into his dominant hand, slicking up his cock from base to tip, and starts moseying to his peak. With a loose fist gliding up and down his shaft, he smokes for a bit and waits for the high to fully infiltrate his systems. He prefers being sober or only slightly influenced when he's with you; he wants to experience you unabashed, and you entrance him so much you're in a classification all of your own. But he needs to quell his sadness over your absence or else he won't reap the fruits of his own taxing labor.

The last tendrils of smoke are swept out of the room on his final exhale and with his increased relaxation comes down the barrier to his creativity. He locates his phone (hidden under a pile of Kit Kat wrappers that you nagged him to throw away) and calls you, the weed muddying his memory that you're on-call elsewhere. The robotic audio of the default voicemail message makes him grunt, but when the recording begins, his imagination sparks.

"Hey baby," a salacious grin works its way across his face, "I was just jerking my schlong, thinking about you and your pretty eyes, your gorgeous tits, that evil little smile..."

Your mischievous giggles ring in his ears, his strokes picking up speed. His tongue darts out to catch the drop of spit that has worked its way onto his parted lips, a flash of embarrassment running through him even though you can't see him (and would take utter delight in the fact that you literally make him drool),

"A-and, uh," he splutters before snapping back to his controlled, teasing tone, "and how much you wrecked me last night. I'm forever grateful, honey bun, you know that - but it hurt when you left this morning."

He mock-pouts, "You broke poor old Dieter's heart. I-I think you're gonna have to make it up to me."

His tone takes an abrupt, dominating turn. He growls into the receiver, "And I think I know exactly what I want you to do."

An image floats up through the haze in his mind: the underside of your soft belly, breasts and that conniving smile he mentioned baring itself in the moonlight. From last night - you rid his face until you thoroughly soaked him, that patchy scruff that's dappled along his strong jaw drenched in your arousal. He smirks, thinking of how you have ten hidden bruises dotted across your ass from his fingertips digging into your flesh to grind you down harder against his rabid tongue. Your overstimulated shriek of his name echoes in his head as he devises his plan for you.

"First, I want to fuck that narrow throat of yours," his hand on his cock shifts to grip the top third, his thumb rubbing over his head. He groans into the phone, knowing it'll stoke your voice kink.

"It's only fair since you fucked my mouth so good, I get to fuck yours."

He smears leaking precum around his head, adding more pulsing pressure to his motions, "I'm going to shove my cock down your throat, fuck you until I make you gag."

He imagines the wet, firm but giving sensation he's simulating with his hand to be the back of your throat, pushing up against its velvety smoothness again and again until you tense around his length, only tightening your oral grasp, swallowing around him and sucking him back further.

"And you're going to be a good girl for me and take it. Every last inch I feed you."

The daydreams are so vivid - his thick fingers gripping your hair, his hairy mound tickling the tip of your nose as his hips rock back and forth, your chin dripping with just as much wetness as his was...

He lets go of his cock entirely, edging himself. He can't cum this early - the fun has only just begun.

Dieter glances at his phone nestled in the sheets, and thankfully so, because he's reached the voicemail time limit. The line disconnects, but he dials you back in a flash, eager to tell you more of his dirty story. He rolls his eyes through the default message, although he's grateful you're still busy and didn't pick up, because this would've been a little awkward to interrupt him mid-smut. He continues his naughty monologue.

"You're already so good to me, Bunnicula, you really are," his words are gravelly and elongated with lust as he stretches his dick, admiring its robustness (don't mention the ridiculous nickname he has for you, it stems from your feral desires to fuck each other like rabbits and your penchants for biting.)

"You drive me fucking bonkers when you lick my asshole," one hand stays wrapped around his girth while the other travels down to his scrotum, inching past the sack and reaching his taint as he adjusts his position to something more... accessible. He massages the patch of skin with trembling touches, mimicking how you tease him. Because you don't just dive right in, no, you get your man crying for more.

Just like your tongue's path, he circles around his hole, dropping his head back into the pillows with a moan. The veins in his neck protrude and surge with restraint, the palm on his cock revving from its idle and jerking quickly from base to tip.

"The way you wiggle your tongue in there- goddamnit, baby," he chokes out, pressing the tip of his index into his ass, working it in a slow but strenuous orbit to open himself up. His jerking eases considerably, edging himself again. Against his back's wishes he leans over and spits heaping onto the area of interest, his body too fixated on throes to stop his ministrations and find the bottle of lube. Besides, he's never been afraid to lean masochist.

"I'm gonna give you the same treatment, open you up, nice and slow... because you're gonna fit my whole cock in your asshole," a fresh rivulet of precum leaks and spirals down his painfully erect length with his wriggling finger swallowed up to the knuckle. He bites down on his plush lip, that broad ribcage reverberating with hums of ecstasy. He focuses on the stretch of his own opening and fantasizes about how much more you'll have to take.

"If I can take your strap, bunny, you can take me. It'll feel so good, I'm going to fuck your tight, little hole until you're begging me to never stop."

He lays on the mock charm thick, "But bad girls who abandon their lovers in the morning for work don't get what they want: I'm gonna pull out, and you're gonna gape for me."

Another end of voicemail, another staved-off orgasm. Dieter lets go of his cock like it's on fire and slides his finger out of his ass, grateful the line is dead and you don't hear his pitiful whine of loss opposite his despotic words.

He breaks for a moment of reprieve before he starts teasing himself again, his resolve floundering at meek levels. All of this teetering on the cliff has quashed his energy - he's stumbling in smoke for a climactic finale to his lewd tale. His power to dominate is dwindling, the relaxing chemicals floating in his bloodstream luring him to last night, to let you take over and him sit (more like lay down and gawk) to watch your magic unfold.

He calls you a third and final time, already stroking his twitching shaft at a determined pace.

"I can't do all the work though, baby - I want you to ride me to your heart's content, just like you did last night. Mount me," his eyes close, fighting the urge to roll back and succumb to to his orgasm. Just a few more words, Dieter, and you can finish.

"Ride it," he pictures your hands pressing down on his chest, slipping momentarily out of your greedy stronghold from laborious perspiration.

"Bounce on it," your breasts jumping with your motions, your pert nipples taunting his hungry teeth.

"Grind down on it," your dance slowing to a gyrate, your figure swaying dangerously close to his trigger.

"Drench my cock with your cum until it fills my lap," he replays your screams in his mind, layering them with the gush of your arousal if you have the wherewithal - or Dieter allows you - to sneak your quivering hand down to your aching clit. He can feel it where his sweat pools now; your juices will gather right between his hips to lap up later.

"While you're raining down on me, I'm gonna shoot my load, stuff your sweet cunt full of my-"

The three minute limit is met again as Dieter's heart jolts.

"C-cum!" he shouts, littering his abdomen with streaks of his sticky, hot release. He's mumbling your name over and over again, addicted to you. His arm is fatigued, but his nerves are astronomically alight, so his body goes on autopilot while his vision spots with black, fucking his fist until every last droplet of his pleasure is tapped.

When he begins atmospheric entry, he lies slumped against the headboard, sedated. His entire being just feels like a void of television static, blue screen, buffering, for a solid few minutes. A dribble of his spend running down the slope of his belly shocks him back to life, its path rippling tingles.

Before he can fool himself into thinking he loves you - remember, this is Dieter Bravo: International Tramp - he picks up his phone.

He sends the text and removes his soiled shirt, reaching over to the nightstand to get another joint.

As his highs swirl into one euphoric daze, he wishes you were here now, if he had to choose one moment from his entire fantasy. Dieter likes to cuddle with strangers, gets paid to do it for his job sometimes, so the absence of post-coital snuggling, especially when it would be with you, is always difficult.

You rarely have the opportunity to smoke because of your job, but he imagines sharing it with you, watching you melt further into bliss through the calming clouds. You get handsy, giggly hugs never failing to lead to more heated touches...

His phone lights up with a message from you:

Maybe he is in love with you, if maybe means most definitely. All that's left to do is wait for you to come home and for the two of you to deliver on both your promises.

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