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#Taking my part in making sure we all just collectively forget he ever existed
silenzahra · 1 day
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Luigi the Bookworm 📚✨
Today, April 23rd, we celebrate Book Day in Spain with a beautiful tradition: gifting books and roses. In the past few months, I've started to see Luigi, my favorite Mario character, as a bookworm, thanks to some art pieces like this one, by Mikis_art94 on Instagram, and this one, a short comic by Sarahsketckesluigi, also on Instagram.
And, since I'm also a bookworm myself, I thought of celebrating this day by sharing with you my own take on Luigi's bookish side 🤭 Warning: this is gonna be LONG, so make sure to grab some drinks and snacks and make yourselves comfortable! 💖
(Also, I may go and turn some of these into actual fanfics at some point because, well... I got myself inspired 👀🤭✨)
Please go and check this amazing post by @itsavee4117! It's a companion to this one and you can see many of my headcanons illustrated in his lovely art style!!! 📚💖
@bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @peaches2217 @nuctoria @keakruiser
@pepperycar @kelbreyworshipper @roscolate and anyone else who might be interested: I hope you enjoy! Happy Book Day! 📚🥀✨
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Part 1: Luigi's Bookish Side
Luigi is a person who tends to get excited easily, and when he does, he experiences those feelings with great intensity. This applies to all aspects of his life, and reading, one of his greatest passions, is no exception.
In terms of genres, Luigi is generally open to read anything. He enjoys realistic novels, historical novels, classic novels, mystery novels, sci-fi novels... And he also reads books about gardening, cooking, baking and mechanics from time to time. The only things he’s unable to consume are thrillers and horror. He's tried, but, with all the times he's had to face King Boo, he's had more than enough terror and frights to last him a lifetime, thank you very much.
His favorite genres are fantasy and romance. The former, because traveling to made-up worlds allows him to forget about his real-life problems and offers him an escape from his daily life, which can often be exhausting. The second, because he’s a complete romantic who loves to see people loving each other and living happily ever after. And also... because of something that has to do with Daisy.
Luigi lives every book he reads with the same intensity. For him, it's as if the characters really existed, as if they were his friends, people he can talk to, share common interests with, and also help to achieve their purposes in life (i.e. in the books they’re from).
And maybe... just maybe... he's fallen in love more than once while reading and now he has a loooong list of literary crushes thet only keeps growing.
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So, when he’s reading, Luigi laughs with the characters, cries when one of them suffers or dies, his heart tearing in his chest, and is deeply moved every time a tender moment occurs, such as a kiss, a hug or a cute scene involving, for example, a baby or an animal.
His favorite stories are those about siblings. Not only because he enjoys reading family stories, but also because, without even thinking about it, he often finds it easy to put himself in the place of the younger sibling. For him, therefore, it’s as if he were reading a story starring himself and his beloved brother Mario, and he loves to imagine that they’re going on adventures together in an unknown world. Almost like when they first arrived in the Mushroom Kingdom.
Over the years, Luigi has gathered quite a collection of books, so Mario, the moment they move into the little house in the Mushroom Kingdom that Peach offered them, doesn't hesitate to suggest to his brother that he use the extra room to build himself a small library. Luigi is not too sure at first, thinking that maybe his brother would like to have an office, but Mario insists.
So Luigi has a small library in his new home, which he soon fills to the top with books, and it’s his pride and joy. He and Mario assembled the bookshelves together, which they brought all the way from Brooklyn, and now Luigi has a wonderful reading nook where he can isolate himself to let his imagination run wild for hours. It is, along with the bedroom he shares with Mario, his favorite room in the whole house.
For Luigi, reading is something so important, meaningful and almost sacred in his life, that he has a whole ritual that he performs every time he sits down to read. He has a rocking chair in his small library, a present from his brother when they moved to live in the Mushroom Kingdom, and he has it placed right next to the window and in front of the fireplace. He likes to be able to see the sky when he looks up from his reading, and he usually stares at the clouds or the stars while he daydreams about or reflects on what he has just read. During the summer, he usually keeps it open, as he loves to read in natural light while the gentle breeze from Peach's land cools him, and in winter he keeps it firmly closed while the fireplace warms him.
Luigi loves to light a scented candle to help him get in the perfect mood for reading. His favorite scent is vanilla, as it reminds him of his favorite princess, but he also loves lavender and cinnamon. He usually makes himself a hot drink, sometimes tea, sometimes chocolate, and brings a nice blanket to warm up, which is why his favorite time to read is the coldest time of the year, especially autumn. He also prepares his set of post-its to mark his favorite sentences and parts of the book, and he has a ritual for colors too: yellow for funny moments, blue for sentences that make him reflect on them, red or pink for romantic scenes…
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Luigi knows that there are many people who write directly in their books, but, for him, that is unthinkable. He sees books as a valuable and precious object, a repository of stories that helps him disconnect from reality and let his imagination run wild. He respects what everyone does with their books, but he’s simply incapable. Especially if it’s a book he has been given as a gift.
His favorite copies are hardcover, even more so if they include a dust jacket. He treasures all his books with the same affection, but those are undoubtedly his weak point. The most precious of all is a hardcover, dust-jacketed edition of his favorite book, which was a present from Mario, and which also has painted edges.
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Usually, when it's time to read, Mario is either napping, spending quality time with Peach, or doing something else around the house. Polterpup, on the other hand, takes the opportunity to approach his owner and, if it's summer, lie at his feet while he reads. If it's winter, however, Polterpup will jump into Luigi's lap without his permission and cuddle up and fall asleep immediately, before Luigi even has time to recover from the fright and resume reading. (Check out @pepperycar's funny addition to this!)
Luigi is a speed reader. Usually, when he starts reading, he doesn't intend to go too fast. It's just that, after so many years reading, his eyes have acquired an astonishing speed, and he’s able to retain every word in his head despite going through them very quickly. Also, if a book really hooks him, he’s unable to put it down until he finishes it, which has caused him to stay up late several nights and go to work half asleep the next day, but it's always totally worth it. Because of this ability, he can finish books of about 300-400 pages in just a few hours, and sometimes also 500 if he gets caught up completely.
Luigi LOVES to buy books. His favorite visits are to Sarasaland and the bookstore, and he also does a lot of online shopping to support small publishers. Every time a new book comes home, he gets excited as if it's the first time, and always asks Mario to please record him while he's unboxing it. Mario unhesitatingly stands on the other side of the camera and makes sure that every shot is perfect and that the book looks great, and Luigi, delighted and grateful, always gives him the tightest and most spontaneous hugs every time they finish filming.
And, of course, once he has the book in his hands, Luigi squeals and kicks, excited, as he waves it in the air like maracas before hugging it tightly to his chest. And, when the book is a present from someone dear to him, he acts exactly the same, only he ends up crying and thanking again and again the person who gave it to him while, again, he presses the book against himself as if his life depended on it.
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Luigi is VERY much a fan of merchandising. He loves collecting bookmarks, he has such a huge collection that he's had to divide it into several drawers, and every time he’s going to start a new reading, he tends to spend more time deciding which bookmark will be the most suitable than choosing the book itself. He’s also bought a few literary stickers and some printed works of his favorite books, like fanarts of different scenes or characters illustrated by various artists, which he's hung on a corkboard. And, of course, since his books are the most precious thing he has, he’s also bought many literary covers from different small artists' stores, so that he can keep his books well protected when he carries them around.
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Luigi is the kind of person who takes a book with him everywhere. A doctor's appointment? Book in backpack in case the wait gets longer. Public transport? He can't think of a better way to spend it than reading. He even takes them with him when he meets up with Mario, Peach and Toad, just in case his brother and the princess get lovey-dovey, and Toad falls asleep. And, if there's one thing Luigi likes better than sleeping in nature, it's reading in nature.
Part 2: The Reader Brother
Luigi has loved reading since he was very young. When he and Mario were babies, their parents used to tell them a bedtime story, sometimes Pio, sometimes Mia, and Luigi always listened very attentively. He would gawk listening to them and loved how they used to put voices and even recreate some scenes to make them laugh.
Mario also listened very interested, but being a more energetic baby, he used to fall asleep about halfway through the story, with his head resting on Luigi's shoulder and his arm firmly around his brother's waist. Their parents would drool, but they had to continue, for Luigi, even if he was struggling to keep his eyes open, wasn’t going to go to sleep without knowing the ending.
Only then, with a satisfied smile, he would hug his brother back, curl up next to him, close his eyes, and put his thumb in his mouth to get ready for sleep. By then, Mario was completely asleep, clinging to Luigi like a koala to a eucalyptus tree, and their parents had to make great efforts not to melt as they tucked them in and kissed them goodnight.
Since then, both brothers have grown up being great lovers of stories, only that, while Luigi loves books, Mario prefers to consume them in movies or video games. Even so, these are all hobbies that the brothers share, as they love to immerse themselves in a good story that helps them escape from reality for a while.
When Luigi gets emotional about a book he’s reading or has just read, Mario immediately comes to his side to hug and comfort him. He knows that, even if it's fiction, his brother has lived through it all in such a way that his feelings, of sadness, joy or emptiness at having finished a great story, are real and intense. And Mario would never judge him for it.
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Luigi is deeply grateful not only that his brother comforts him, but that he listens to him talk endlessly about what has just happened in the book he’s reading, and even catches his emotions. Mario may not cry, but he feels his brother's sadness as if it were his own. Fortunately, the same thing happens when Luigi is happy or excited because of a book, and even on the few occasions when Luigi has gotten angry with a character, Mario has giggled under his breath before calming him down, because he finds it extremely tender.
Luigi usually goes to the bookstore at least once a week, and Mario, since they were teenagers, has almost always accompanied him. The only exceptions were when Mario was dating Pauline, and Luigi had no problem paying his weekly visit to the bookstore by himself, but, deep down, he missed Mario.
His brother also loves to accompany him, because, despite not being as much of a reader as Luigi, he enjoys watching him go back and forth from one shelf to another, pointing out the books he’s already read and the ones he wants to read. Also, when he gets the chance to buy a new one, Mario is amused to see Luigi picking up one book after another and trying to load them all and then deciding which one to take home.
Of course, Mario immediately offers to help him carry the books so that Luigi can keep picking up more if he wants to, and Luigi appreciates it from the bottom of his heart. And also that, again, Mario listens to him chatting incessantly about why each book has caught his attention and why he has such a hard time making up his mind.
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Mario always tries to guide him in the best possible way: "What do you feel like reading more right now?" "Is it part of a series or is it a standalone?" "Is the sequel already out or would you have to wait?" "Did you like this or that author better?"
And Luigi thanks him deeply for his advice and questions because, that way, he manages to discern which book he really wants to buy that time.
The best way to surprise Luigi, the best birthday and Christmas present, will always be a book. Mario knows this, and that's why he doesn't hesitate to ask his brother to show him his long and endless lists of books he wants to purchase, as well as discreetly taking notes every time he goes to the bookstore with him. Luigi cherishes every book his brother has gifted him like the priceless treasures they are to him.
Sometimes Luigi runs into space problems. Even though his bookshelf is large and spacious, there’s a limit to everything. In those moments when he’s overwhelmed because he doesn't know where to place his new acquisitions, Mario always comes to the rescue: he immediately offers to hang a new shelf on the wall, or to look for another bookshelf to place in some free space in the room, or, directly, he stares at Luigi's shelf with a frown and his hand on his chin for a few moments, before taking the new books from his brother's arms and, displaying his skills playing Tetris, manages to find room to place them.
He loves to do it not only because he enjoys applying in real life what he has learned playing video games, but above all because of the relieved smile that blooms on Luigi's lips when he sees that Mario has found the perfect solution.
Luigi loves going to literary events where he can meet his favorite authors and have his books signed, but he tends to get so nervous that he always gets stuck for words and sweats a lot, which embarrasses him deeply.
The first time, in fact, Luigi was so shocked to have his favorite author in front of him that he fainted. When he woke up in the ambulance, he was so embarrassed that nothing Mario, who, of course, always accompanies him, said succeeded in comforting him.
He only calmed down a bit at home, when, alone with Mario, he began to silently cry without even realizing it, and his brother, not uttering a word, sat down in front of him, worried, and wrapped him gently in his arms. He pressed the back of Luigi's neck softly to make him rest his head on his shoulder and stroked his back gently, his heart aching at each new sob that escaped his brother's throat.
It took him many, many years to convince Luigi to go to an event again, for Luigi feared the same thing would happen to him again. He didn't want to make a fool of himself like that ever again, especially not in front of writers he deeply admires.
So Mario decided that they would practice: he dressed as much as he could like Luigi's favorite author, watched as many videos as he could on the internet to soak up his personality and find out what kind of books they wrote, and pretended to be them again and again, relentlessly, until Luigi, little by little, managed to exchange a few words with him.
It took them many attempts, because, despite knowing it was his brother, Luigi had no trouble getting into the situation due to his overflowing imagination. Mario had to step out of character several times to try to calm him down and help him regulate his breathing.
Luckily, thanks to Mario's efforts, eventually it worked, and Luigi, a few years later, found himself back at an event and able to chat for a few minutes with the writers he read, even though his heart was beating frantically in his chest and excitement was flooding his insides.
He will never be able to thank his brother for his infinite patience, but Mario always plays it down tenderly. He keeps assuring him that it was not patience, but his deep and sincere love for his younger brother and his eagerness to help him fulfill his wishes.
Part 3: Royalty + Luaisy
Ever since the brothers met Princess Peach, she and Luigi have been, little by little, building up a beautiful friendship that grows every day, just like the sweet romantic relationship between her and Mario.
It didn't take long for Peach to discover Luigi's bookish side, and it made her eager and excited, as she has always enjoyed reading and loves to comment on the books she reads in great detail.
So she didn't hesitate to take Luigi to the huge library of her castle, and she smiled, touched, as she saw the amazement with which Luigi observed its towering shelves, turning on himself in the center of the room as he tried to take it all in.
Since then, Peach and Luigi have become reading buddies. The two of them love to immerse themselves in a good story, read together in the castle library while comfortably sipping tea and, of course, comment on what they have just read and exchange views. Luigi even ends up causing Peach to also take a liking to collecting bookmarks and literary merchandising.
They often do joint readings: they discover a book they both feel like reading and set a series of goals to try to read it at the same pace, so they can discuss it as they go along. Sometimes, however, Luigi discovers that Peach hasn't read one of his favorite books, so he doesn't hesitate to read it with her so he can see her reactions, and vice versa. They love to share their anger, their cries and their joys, for it fills their hearts with bliss and emotion that they have someone by their side who understands perfectly well what they’re feeling and why.
They enjoy hearing what this or that scene has made the other feel, or what they think of this or that character, because it helps them to see things from a point of view that, perhaps, they had not considered before. Reading enriches them, but their literary conversations enrich them even more.
And Mario, of course, is delighted that the two most important people in his life have forged such a strong, deep bond and spend so much quality time together, sharing one of their greatest passions. Often, unbeknownst to them, he stands watching them as they read in the library and gets a silly grin on his face when he sees them laughing together after chatting a bit about their readings.
When it comes to Prince Peasley, on the other hand, Luigi is the one who watches him while smiling, mesmerized, as the prince, always so elegant and sophisticated, has an exquisite oratory and knows how to strike the perfect tone every time a character intervenes, and also to confer the right emotion when it comes to the narrator. And Luigi, besides staring at him, enraptured by the fabulousness of his figure, also listens to him spellbound. He would almost say that he enjoys reading more when his beloved prince is the one who narrates, and plays, the stories.
Princess Daisy, due to her energetic nature, is not much prone to reading. She prefers more dynamic activities where she can unleash not only her endless energy, but also her competitive side. Even so, she knows and respects the value of books, having grown up well aware of their importance in safeguarding and protecting the history of her kingdom. (@kelbreyworshipper you may like these ones!)
But when she meets Luigi, she begins to show a slight interest in reading, something that at first was only born so that she could have something to talk to him about. Fortunately, Luigi, despite his initial shyness, doesn't need more than a mention of literature to start talking nonstop about his favorite stories and how much they make him feel. And Daisy, not even realizing it, finds herself listening to him entranced, very attentive to his every word and genuinely understanding why there are people, like Luigi, who find reading so exciting.
Over time, she starts asking him for book recommendations, which he happily obliges, and Daisy discovers that she actually enjoys reading, especially stories with tons of action. Still, what she likes the most about this is Luigi's thrilled and moved expression when he finds out she's actually listened to him, read the book he recommended and, therefore, now they can fangirl together. She falls even harder for him because of the cute little face he makes.
Sensing that her interest in him is growing and that it may be mutual, Daisy decides to invite Luigi to Sarasaland Castle to show him her library. At first she doesn't tell him what she has invited him for, which makes Luigi VERY nervous, as he doesn't know if this is a date or not. She playfully takes him by the hands, leads him to the library doors and asks him to close his eyes. Luigi hesitates a little, unsure, but ends up obeying so as not to disappoint her.
Daisy then opens the library and guides Luigi carefully inside. He almost trips, which makes her laugh, causing him, in turn, to relax a bit. And when she finally tells him to open his eyes, Luigi gasps and his jaw drops, his heart pounding in his chest, not only because that library is even a bit larger than Peach's, but also because, slowly, his mind understands and assimilates that Daisy had prepared this to surprise him.
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And even though he’s fascinated by all the books before him, he ends up, without realizing it, looking at Daisy, with a blushing smile on his flushed face and his hands over his heart, while she explains to him that all those volumes belonged to his ancestors and that he has her permission to come whenever he wants to get them. "They're yours!" she says at last, turning to him, and Luigi's heart grows larger at the offer, causing a tear to escape his eyes as the princess, full of tenderness, smiles at him.
Over the next few days, Luigi goes to the library, encouraged by Daisy, who insists again and again that he come to Sarasaland. Her library has a huge ladder to reach the highest shelves, and Daisy uses it without a second thought to glide across the room, to the terrified gaze of Luigi, who dares not even climb the first rung.
As soon as she notices this, Daisy gets down, walks over to Luigi and takes him by the hand to guide him to the ladder. He almost cringes when she places his hand on the wood and freezes when Daisy encourages him to climb up. "It's completely safe!" she assures him. "And, besides, I'll be right here. You can hold my hand as you climb up. I promise I won't slide you down too fast the first time!"
Very slowly and clinging to Daisy's hand, Luigi climbs up the steps. She doesn't let go and keeps repeating phrases to encourage him, which makes Luigi feel almost as safe as when he is with Mario, though in a different way. Once he reaches the top of the first shelf, however, Luigi is unable to climb any higher, so Daisy doesn't pressure him any further. She gently grasps the lower end of the ladder and, after warning him, moves it a little, very slowly as she promised, to make him feel secure.
The next day, however, Daisy goes up right after Luigi and, leaning into the next bookshelf, pushes as hard as she can to propel the ladder to the opposite side at breakneck speed. Her laughter mingles with Luigi’s screams, but however, once they stop, he discovers that, despite his initial panic, he’s had fun with what Daisy has just done.
This then becomes a regular occurrence between them, until it gets to the point where Luigi feels comfortable and confident enough to climb the ladder by himself and propel himself across the library in true “Beauty and the Beast” style.
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In the kingdom of Sarasaland there’s a tradition to honor books, as they’re not only a source of entertainment, but also the sacred objects that preserve their history. Daisy has grown up with these values and does not hesitate to tell Luigi about this tradition soon after they start dating.
On Book Day, it is customary for the man to give the woman a rose and the woman to give the man a book. This originated many centuries ago, before everything related to gender and relationships evolved, so nowadays, simply put, the members of a romantic relationship give each other both a book and a rose.
Luigi shows up in Sarasaland on the appointed date very nervously, dressed in a smart green suit, his favorite color, and carrying a wrapped book for Daisy, as well as a purple rose, very rare and hard to come by, which he has grown himself in his garden with Peach's help. Daisy greets him in a lovely purple dress, with a vaporous skirt, matching elbow-length gloves and her delicate shoulders bare. She holds out her gift to him almost before he reaches the castle gates and can recover from the amazement of seeing her so dazzling and beautiful.
He’s delighted when, upon opening it, he discovers that it is one of those special editions he’s been looking for for so long. Only Mario knew he wanted it, so he understands, without needing Daisy to tell him, that his brother has given his girlfriend a hand to surprise him. And that makes his heart fill with love and his eyes with tears, and the book even more precious to him.
Daisy excitedly opens her present and, to Luigi's surprise, squeals when she discovers that he’s gifted her a fantasy adventure novel that caught her eye when he first took her to his favorite Brooklyn bookstore. Daisy drags him into the library, invites him to sit down with some drinks (tea for him, a smoothie for her), and asks him to please start reading.
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And so they spend their first Book Day together: settled on Daisy's fluffy library couch, she sat on his lap, the skirt of her purple dress spread over his legs, almost hiding them, and her arms around his neck, depositing light kisses here and there as he struggles to read aloud the book he’s just given her. This was the first time they gave each other a book, but of course it would not be the last, as reading together, visiting the Brooklyn bookstore and Sarasaland and Mushroom Kingdom libraries, and continuing to celebrate Book Day would soon become habit for them.
Daisy often stares at Luigi as he reads, amused by his reactions and the faces he makes, and, when their relationship is more established, she has no qualms about peeping over his shoulder. And Luigi, far from getting angry, what he did the first time and has continued to do ever since is to read aloud, so that she also finds herself immersed in the story without realizing it. (This may sound familiar!)
But what Luigi enjoys the most is that Daisy, whenever the characters in the book share some intimate gesture, instantly replicates it with him. If they hold hands, Daisy immediately reaches for Luigi's hand. If there’s a hug, Daisy wraps her arms around Luigi and holds him tightly, which leaves him breathless, but also makes him laugh and fills his heart with tenderness.
And, of course, if there are kisses, Daisy won't hesitate to start showering Luigi with them. First on his hand, on the tips of his fingers and on his palm. Then on the forehead, with a delicacy that always melts Luigi. His cheeks color every time Daisy places her lips on them, but what drives him absolutely crazy is when she seeks his mouth. It's the only thing that makes him put down the book and postpone reading for another time. (Check out @bberetd's wonderful art for this!)
Often, before they fall asleep, Daisy cuddles up to Luigi in bed, wearing his green shirt, and buries her face in the crook of his neck. Luigi absentmindedly begins to fiddle with her hair, delighted to have her so close, and, with his other hand, reaches for his book to read aloud a few more pages before they fall asleep. It's part of their routine and they both love sharing stories that way.
Part 4: The gang
The visit to the bookstore and libraries has now become a regular occurrence for everyone. As soon as he started talking about books with Peach and she showed him her library, Luigi immediately invited her to come with him and Mario the next time they went to their regular Brooklyn bookstore, and she gladly accepted.
On that first visit by the princess, Peach was as thrilled as Luigi and the two of them went back and forth in the bookstore, she eagerly looking at everything, he endlessly talking about the store and the many books he’s bought there. Soon they found themselves going often to acquire new books, not without first spending a good while in the place accumulating stories in their arms to, again, decide in the end.
Again Luigi was looking for Mario, who, unconsciously, had been staring at them with an amused smile and his eyes full of affection. Blushing, Mario would hurry to come to his side to help him, and Luigi, even though he’d caught him gazing at the princess in rapt attention, wouldn’t comment anything so as not to make him uncomfortable or put any pressure on him.
Many times, however, Peach would intervene and take two of the books Luigi had chosen. That's how she also started giving him books as presents, and Luigi couldn't be more grateful that his beloved friend pampers him that way. Her gesture makes her even more attractive and sweet in the eyes of Mario, who melts at seeing her displaying such adoration towards his beloved little brother.
Daisy, always eager to learn more about the place where her dearest hero in green grew up, also joins in, but, to her surprise, she finds herself next to Mario, fondly watching Peach and Luigi, especially the latter. They, however, are so excited talking about books that they never notice the goofy smiles with which Daisy and Mario look at them, delighted to see their two favorite people indulging in their greatest passion.
Despite this, both Mario and Daisy make sure to pay attention to the books that Luigi and Peach point out with the intention of acquiring them in the future, and then make plans with each other to decide which ones to give them on future birthdays, Christmases and, of course, regular days. Any time is a good time to surprise their favorite people with a new literary gift.
Sometimes, on their dates, Luigi and Daisy also go to the bookstore, and she, as always, listens to him talk very attentively. When it comes to advising him on which book to acquire, however, she’s much more practical: she thinks Luigi should pick the book he wants to read the most… or the one with the most romance in it.
And Luigi blushes violently because he perfectly understands the implications of such a suggestion.
Literary events also end up being a regular thing they all do together. Luigi, thanks to Mario, already manages to control his nerves and chat a bit with the authors when they sign his books. Peach, of course, is all sweetness and always tells them how much their stories have made her feel and dream. Mario just smiles and listens, delighted to be able to accompany them and to see them enjoying themselves so much, right up their alley. He always takes pictures of them with the authors, both together and separately, something he already did when it was just him and Luigi.
Daisy, on the other hand, is so spontaneous and genuine that she doesn't hold back when it comes to treating the writers with too much familiarity, which only embarrasses the others, especially Luigi. If it's the author of a romance book, Daisy doesn't hesitate to cheerfully tell them how much she and her boyfriend enjoyed the sensual and intimate scenes, or that she lost count of how many times she kissed her sweetie during the reading because of the sheer number of times the characters kissed.
In those moments, Luigi can only think of crawling under a rock. He has to resort to all the training with Mario to manage to keep his composure and not faint again or run away to hide so no one sees him turning red as a tomato.
However, then Daisy intertwines her arm with his and kisses him on the cheek, and he feels that his blush, this time, is due to being close to her and to her tokens of affection. After all, Luigi adores everything about his princess, all her sides and her personality, and besides, to other authors, fortunately, Daisy tells them how much fun she and her boyfriend had with their novel, and Luigi can only adore her.
At these events, both Mario and Daisy go out of their way to get lots of bookmarks and merch for Luigi and Peach, as they know they both love to collect stuff related to their favorite books. And also, again, they take mental notes of all the books they can buy as future presents for them.
From time to time, Toad and Peasley also join in on their visits to the bookstore, libraries or events. Toad is a big fan of fantasy and adventure comics, as they nurture his enthusiastic and adventurous spirit, and Peasley loves to talk endlessly with his favorite authors about the various subjects they cover in their books, thus unconsciously displaying, once again, his impeccable eloquence.
I really hope you liked this! I had a blast writing all of this and imagining my favorite characters in the many situations I've experienced myself as a bookworm, as well as adding others I came up with 🥰
Plase feel free to add your comments and feedback, and also headcanons if you have a few of your own! And if by any chance this inspires you to create your own stuff, I'd be more than honored 😭 All I ask is to please give credit! 🙏💖
Before I leave, please remember to check @itsavee4117's blog today! You won't regret it 🤩📚✨
63 notes · View notes
wannabemurdock · 2 years
Text
Smut alphabet, Eddie Munson
masterlist
Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader (tried keeping it gn!reader where I could)
Contains: smut.
Notes: ugh i've been reading too many perv!Eddie fics so here we are. i'm such a whore for this man
Minors do not interact
Requests are open
not my gif
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
He absolutely tries his best to take care of you afterwards, even though he's fighting off his own urge to just pass out. He'll get you cleaned up and also bring you a glass of water before holding your close and falling asleep with you.
B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He is without a doubt, a boob guy. Obsessed with touching them at all times. Watching a movie in bed, his hands under your shirt. Will worship your tits for as long as you let him.
If they're pierced - you're never allowed to wear a bra, so he can always see the piercing poke through the shirt. At home though, you can forget about shirts. You will be topless anytime you're together unless you're in public.
His favourite part of himself though is his hands and arms. He so proud of the strength and dexterity of his hands from playing guitar for so long. He loves the way his tattoo's make his arms look too.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
As much as he loves to fill you up and see it deep out of you, he can’t get over how gorgeous you are just absolutely covered in his cum. Little pearly white droplets across your face and chest has him ready to go for another round.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He has a nice little collection of your panties. You always wonder how the go missing. He shoves them into the seat of his van just to make sure you can’t find them again after a cheeky afternoon.
He loves to wrap them around his cock as he jerks off to the thought of whatever you two did that day.
He also has a nice collection of photos of you during and after sex. Dishevelled and covered in cum. You're constantly finding ones you didn't know existed. Tucked in the headstock of his guitar. Under his pillow. In the driver side's visor in his van. Whether its you in pretty little lingerie, mouth stretched around his cock or a close up of cum seeping out of you. He has a photo of it.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
He's had a bit of experience. Most of his knowledge comes from porn though. He's observant of what makes your squirm and moan. He listens to your body and doesn't go into sex with you headfirst and cocky. He just wants to make you feel good and will ignore all his own previous experience so he can completely focus on you.
F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)
He loves when you ride him. Your tits bouncing in his face as you use him for your own pleasure. Your neck on display as your head is thrown back in pleasure. He loves to see your pussy swallow his dick with every bounce.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
He loves to laugh and joke during sex. Seeing you smile and giggle as he makes you feel amazing is just perfection.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He leaves it pretty natural, only trimming it every once in a while.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Ever the gentleman, he'll lay down his jacket for you if you're not in the comfort of his van or bed. He'll praise you to high heavens and tell you how much he loves and adores you. He does his best to be romantic, even if it doesn't always work. He even bought candles to make his room more sensual for after a date.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He will jack off whenever you're not together. Even if you are together. If you're asleep next to him, he'll have a cheeky jerk because he understands that you don't always want to be woken up. As said earlier, he has a solid collection of your panties for the moments you're away from him.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Somnophilia. He can't help how innocent and precious you look when you sleep. Especially when your clothes shift and show off more than you realise. It takes every ounce of control to not ruin you right there and then. You've woken up multiple times to his head buried between your legs or him tracing his dick through your folds.
L = Location (favourite places to do the do)
His favourite is the back of his van. You two can be wherever, whenever and still have privacy. But his other favourite is on the table right before a Hellfire Club meeting. The risk of someone walking in any moment mixed with the atmosphere is perfection.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
It doesn't take much to get him going. A stare that last a little too long. Your skirt riding a little high. If you stretch and let out a little groan. The slightest thing and he's absolutely ready. He's so in love and attracted to you that you are all the motivation he needs.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Eddie would never doing anything overly mean or cruel, whether it's emotionally or physically. He's down for degradation and punishment but not to the point you need to use your safe word. He'd never be able to forgive himself. He will always check what colour you are whenever he's unsure.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
He loves receiving head but he's is willing to get on his knees for you and chance he gets. 69 is his ideal because he gets both of the things he loves so much.
He lives to be smothered by your thighs. His face pressed against you to the point he can't breathe is heaven for him.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Definitely depends on the circumstances. Eddie loves to shower you with love and affection whenever he can. Taking his time to drag every orgasm out of you. But when the time calls for it, he will destroy you quickly before having to get back whatever you two were doing.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
He’s always down for a quickie. Why wouldn’t he be? Any moment to be with you drives him crazy and sometimes all that time can be is in a vacant classroom or in his van between a classes.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He is 100% willing to take risks. He'll fuck you in vacant classrooms, under the bleachers at games, even on the table in the woods. He will risk everything to fuck you.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
He can last a while. He does the thing where he thinks about other things to last longer because he hates the thought of sex ending. He would spend all day buried in you if you'd let him.
He can usually go about 2 rounds a night before he's far too exhauster but if you want more he will put his whole being into giving you head to make sure you're truly satisfied.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Of course he owns toys! He has an expansive collection because he can't help but buy whatever he sees. He loves to torture you with whatever he bought that day. Remote control vibrators. Spreader bars. Cute little plug with a pink gem plus we've all seen the handcuffs
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
He loves to tease. Anything to hear you whining and whimpering. He loves to see you squirm beneath his touch.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
He is so vocal. Between groans and dirty talk, there's never a moment where he's quiet. He will always praise you.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Loves to be dommed. He's such a good sub and just needs to be taken care of some days. He just wants to be praised and taken care of. Be told he's a good boy and be held close as he comes down from his own orgasm. He wants to vulnerable.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
HUNG. 9 inches, solid girth. Slight curve to the left that hits you just right no matter what position you're in. A darker pink tip that's just desperate to be sucked and kissed.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
His sex drive is through the roof. He is ready at any moment and will be in your ear pointing out all the locations he could absolutely ruin you.
"We could just park the van round back" or "Surely no one could find us in the janitors closet" are common things that he whispers to you at any time during the day.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
He is out like a light right after he cleans you up and makes sure you're all right.
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thedawningofthehour · 3 months
Note
I completely forgot that Trump is president in DOH! Can you give us some background about the decisions of the US government regarding New York?
Sure! They executively decided to pretty much pretend it doesn't exist!
I kid, it's far deeper than that. I can't say too much because part of it has to do with the EPF being there, but publicly: nothing is happening. New York has gone totally silent, had all their outgoing communications cut and the evidence of what's happening scrubbed from the internet. People who have left NYC are being monitored, in some cases being 'encouraged' to keep quiet about where they're from and why they left, or even gaslighted and told that they were obviously suffering from the mass hysteria that had gripped the city and they're testing the water for LSD or something. A few people have been committed. News outlets from international news channels to somewhat-successful youtubers are being told not to talk about New York.
This has all had middling success in actually hiding what's happening, obviously-you can't scrub anything from the internet, it's not being shared so blatantly but the videos and pictures are still up on sites like 4chan. There's a disinformation campaign to convince everyone that it's fake (think the 'Pallywood' claims going around now) but still. And you can't just take out New York. It's the economic and cultural capital of the world. Their sudden disappearance and absence is extremely seen.
This was still seen as preferable to telling the world that there are a race of nonhumans living under New York City turning humans into mutants and wanting to destroy society. They do plan on doing that at some point, but they need like...a plan first. Especially considering this happens right after COVID starts, there's a real risk of people panicking and they need to do this in a way that won't result in billions of people collectively flipping their lid. At the very least they need to look like they're in control of the situation.
Absolutely none of this is being decided by Trump, btw, he's being followed around by a guy with an airhorn so he can be shushed up whenever he can't keep his big mouth shut, and that's if they bothered to brief him on it at all. (idk what the point would be, it's not like he actually did his job ever) This is all Pence and his cronies, maybe some senators.
I've kept this blog pretty politically neutral for the most part, but I feel like making fun of Trump is pretty safe in this fandom. I mean, most of us are queer, pretty much all of us are Millennial/Gen Z. Half of you aren't even American. (I know there's a weird Trump Canadian following and you in the UK have Tories, but I don't see those people being here either) And my house is rabidly anti-Trump. Like, we make jokes about our bird being a Trump supporter kind of brainrot. My mother has CNN on pretty much constantly and I have fantasies about smashing the television with a hammer.
If only we could all forget about Trump so easily!
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lunarsun12 · 4 months
Text
Ateez Interrogation
Masterlist
Previous Part / Next Part
Tumblr media
The third team, in hopes for their only hope to find the Kai Plush killer. Beomgyu asked Yeosang nicely (more like harass, he kept on following Yeosang around) to make a groupchat so they can interrogate ah I mean talk to his family.
Beomgyu and Kai started to ask the members, to see if San really did it. Beomgyu believes it was San, due to his recent behaviour. However after beomgyu and Kai left. The ateez family discovered a hidden truth about San
Is San the culprit? What secret is San hidding?
Yeosang created ‘I got forced to make this’
Today 19:00
Yeosang🍗: Ughhh I added them in Beomgyu happy?
Beomgyu🐻: I am very happy! Thank you bestie!
Yeosang🍗: Don’t call me that in front of my family!!
Seonghwa🌸: Yeosang? What happened why you created a new chat…
Wooyoung🦊: Yeah! Maybe Yeosang forget!
Yeosang🍗: I don’t forget…beomgyu forced to me make it. I hate talking to you all especially San now!!
San🗻: Hey…I said I am so sorry many times…
Yeosang🍗: You not sorry, I always see you sitting in the dark at 1am now! I am chicken deprived because of you!!
San🗻: I like sitting in the dark!
Yeosang🍗: If your lips ever try to touch my cheeks! I will pepper spray you!
Wooyoung🦊: My boy San has learnt well from me. Proud brother
Yunho🐶: You know Eomma is still here?
Yunho🐶: And San leave Yeosang alone, he has been traumatised enough
Mingi🦄: San stop giggling in wooyoung room. It’s creepy…
Jongho🍎: Who ever suggested to make Appa break the news. That Shiba doesn’t exist…gotta be one of the dumbest idea
Seonghwa🌸: Don’t look at me…I only said to Mingi. Hongjong did that all on his own
Seonghwa🌸: San we need to talk about your recent behaviour…
Beomgyu🐻: AHA SAN IS THE CULPRIT KAI
Beomgyu🐻: HE PROBABLY RIPPED YOUR PLUSH COLLECTION OUT OF SPITE OF LOSING HIS DOG PLUSH
San🗻: HOW DARE YOU! IT HAS A NAME CALLED SHIBA
San🗻: YOU SHIBA NAPPER BROTHER
Wooyoung🦊: Sannie calm down, you almost knocked over my laptop
Jongho🍎: San please don’t tell me you ripped Yeosang little brother plush collection?
Mingi🦄: I think San didn’t read the text. He is now doing something in wooyoung room…
Yeosang🍗: WOOYOUNG! You better not let him touch MY laptop I lent to you. You are so dead…
Seonghwa🌸: I’m sure Sannie didn’t rip your little plush collection. That not like him….
Beomgyu🐻: Nope! He gave Kai the evils when we went to hang out with Yeosang
Heuningkai🐧: The eyes still scares me!
Heuningkai🐧: I didn’t mean to take Shiba! He shouldn’t have left it lying around…
Heuningkai🐧: I wanted to keep it as I want Shiba to join my family but NOOO we have to do that stupid prank
Beomgyu🐻: Shush Kai, not now
Yunho🐶: You shouldn’t have said that…
Mingi🦄: It has gone quiet…
Jongho🍎: Wooyoung are you okay?
Wooyoung🦊: Oh- my god that was a close call. I have to swipe San phone to delete that message
Wooyoung🦊: That would have ended badly. If he saw that…
Wooyoung🦊: Hmmm Mingi wanna hang out with me and san!!
Mingi🦄: Why? You never let me join…
Wooyoung🦊: Cause I am feeling nice 😊
Yunho🐶: If mingi get hurt, I won’t being you to the club anymore and you won’t get to see BTS
Wooyoung🦊: On second thought…mingi you cannot join
Yunho🐶: That what I thought
Beomgyu🐻: It gotta be San, who else have strong motive to do that to Kai??
Heuningkai🐧: Yeah!! Shiba made it one piece in the end
Jongho🍎: I am innocent for a fact. Even though somone made up this rumour I rip plush, I only do it to scare Mingi
Beomgyu🐻: I didn’t ask you…
Jongho🍎: I should say it, just in case somone decided to push the blame
Yunho🐶: Jongho, stop making it obvious. I can see you glaring from the kitchen counters
Yunho🐶: I will do anything to protect Mingi. I don’t care what happened to San
San🗻: Hey…that’s mean
Wooyoung🦊: Don’t worry! I protect you and Yeosang!!
Yeosang🍗: Don’t drag me into your weird friendship
Jongho🍎: Hah you weak hyungs! I got my muscles
Heuningkai🐧: Answer the question did San rip my plush? Yes or no?
San🗻: I don’t know what you talking about-
Seonghwa🌸: San come out of Wooyoung room. Let’s find your appa and we can talk together about your issue
San🗻: NO YOU CAN’T MAKE ME. I GOT MY KARATE SKILLS
Seonghwa🌸: Jongho you know what to do
Jongho🍎: Yay! I love lifting people up~
Seonghwa🌸: Beomgyu and Kai. I promise I get back to you two and prove that San is innocent. Just please don’t tell you Appa yet. I beg of you
Beomgyu🐻: Fine, you got 2 hours before I tell Appa. It was San
2 hours later
Beomgyu🐻: 2 hours is up-
Heuningkai🐧: Beomgyu, what if he really ripped my plush collection
Beomgyu🐻: I hope he not, he is such a sweet boy
Heuningkai🐧: I want to believe them but I heard what happened to Yeosang. Oh man he doesn’t sound normal
Hongjoong🏴‍☠️: Hello kiddos, we had talk with San. He said it wasn’t him…
Seonghwa🌸: Hongjong, tell them the truth San derserve to get punished
Hongjoong🏴‍☠️: But this is the truth, it really wasn’t San-
San🗻: Yeah!!
Seonghwa🌸: San I saw you dressed in black yesterday and I am missing my kitchen knife
San🗻: B-but
San🗻 is offline
Beomgyu🐻: IT IS HIM. LETS TELL APPA
Seonghwa🌸: Wait, wait
Beomgyu and Kai left the chat
Yunho🐶: What the hell!! San knocked me and Mingi down, he is mumbling his cover been blown-
Wooyoung🦊: Maybe he is playing detective again??
Yeosang🍗: Does it look like, he is playing detective to you??
Jongho🍎: He was acting strange 2 weeks ago…. Poor guy still in shock…
Yunho🐶: YOU ARE RIGHT-
Yunhi🐶: Guys, think about it! The Yeosang situation and the amount chaos he has being causing lately. And talking back at Eomma
Yeosang🍗: He is completely different person
Hongjoong🏴‍☠️: I am confused, cause San has been living with me for 2 weeks now. I have been trying to reconvince him I was joking!
Hongjoong🏴‍☠️: Plus San has lost his phone over 2 weeks
Seonghwa🌸: WAIT WHAT?
4 notes · View notes
eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 years
Text
The Sculptor
Chapter 10 - The Gift of Fire
[Final main chapter! I'll post the epilogue shortly and then this fic is done ♥ And please don't forget to check out @ceru-draws!! This fic wouldn't exist without their incredible piece The Sculptor (but Wangxian), and I seriously can't recommend their art enough, go give them some love! Follow them here, or on Twitter, or on Instagram, whatever you prefer, but just do it!]
[Masterpost] [AO3]
-/-
“How was the party?” Lan Wangji asks Wen Qing when she arrives home on Saturday afternoon, and he can tell the moment she walks through the door that something’s up. He looks beyond her shoulder to spot Luo Qingyang following her in, and he relaxes. He likes Luo Qingyang, truly and genuinely, and though he’s not typically fond of unexpected visitors, how could he be upset to see her? “Mianmian,” he greets, more warmly than he would greet anyone else who isn’t his wife or Wei Wuxian.
“Hi Wangji,” she says with a sweet smile up at him. “I hope you don’t mind-”
“You know you’re always welcome in our house, don’t ever apologize,” Wen Qing reminds her before Lan Wangji can say precisely the same. “We have news for you,” she then says to him, and he can’t help but blink at the barely-restrained aggression in her tone.
He reaches out to take the shopping bag from Luo Qingyang’s arms with an inquisitive noise in the back of his throat. The pair of them follow him into the kitchen, and when he sets the bag down with a rustle of paper and a glance back at them he catches them in the middle of communicating something between them with nothing more than sharp glances in his direction and thinned lips.
“What happened?” he asks with no small amount of alarm - considering the panic he’d felt over the party in the first place, he’s not inclined to think that any news they might have to give him together the day after will be anything good.
“Wei Wuxian is definitely gay.” Wen Qing says it like ripping off a bandaid, sharp and quick, and Lan Wangji so thoroughly appreciates his wife and her no-nonsense attitude in that moment that he can hardly breathe. “Mianmian’s Family - they’re the painters he shares Yiling Collective with, the theater director at the performing arts center in town, and Wei Wuxian.”
“He was there?” Lan Wangji asks when he feels like he can breathe again. He’s not sure what he would have done if he’d gone to the party with them and seen Wei Wuxian sitting there, surrounded by part of their little underground community in such a way that there could be absolutely no doubt as to his place in it, but it likely wouldn’t have been very dignified.
“No,” Luo Qingyang says apologetically and Lan Wangji exhales carefully. “But Uncle Xingchen had to run out to the studio for something and he said A-Ying was still in his side of the studio moping around. Uncle invited him to come but he said he didn’t want to show up at the party all sad and accidentally spoil our coming out. He started telling us about the piece he saw on the workbench, and when he described it to us Qing-jie knew for sure that my ‘cousin’ he kept mentioning was your Wei Wuxian. I didn’t even realize you were down there working with him until last night!”
Lan Wangji stares into the space between their shoulders and just..tries to think.
Wei Wuxian’s eyes come to mind first, laughing and intense in equal measure, heavy whenever they rest on him for any reason. His hands, never straying but…lingering, on the rare occasions Wei Wuxian finds a reason to touch him. His blushes, his praises, the way each image he’s made of Lan Wangji yet has been done with so much delicate care that it makes him want to blush just to think of them. 
He’d mentioned the end of their allotted time together twice within roughly 30 seconds of each other yesterday, and the reminder had settled uncomfortably under Lan Wangji’s ribs and stayed there, sharp as a razor whenever he breathes even today. Had it made Wei Wuxian just as upset? He’d seemed alright when Lan Wangji had left, but if Xiao Xingchen, who must know him well, had seen him just hours later and reported him back as ‘moping’ then what could have happened in the interim except Wei Wuxian thinking about their parting conversation?
“A-Zhan?” Wen Qing prompts quietly, and Lan Wangji forces himself to take a deep breath in. Hold it. Exhale slowly. “I want you to pursue this,” she tells him when he looks at her, her face as serious as it ever gets. “I want you to be happy. We can stay married, we can adopt A-Yuan, we can do everything we promised. And you can keep Wei Wuxian.”
“He’s single,” Luo Qingyang adds before Lan Wangji can attempt to get his feet back under him and he narrows his eyes at her - they’ve clearly coordinated this attack, but Luo Qingyang just smiles at him, falsely guileless. “And he told Huaisang forever ago that he was going to quit going down to the Corner Bar because hookups just aren’t what he wants anymore, he’s looking for more but he doesn’t think he’ll be able to find it.”
Lan Wangji wants to give him so much more that his knees nearly buckle under the weight of it, though of course only he knows just how close he is to losing his iron-clad control.
“Go sit down,” Wen Qing orders. “That’s a lot of information for 2pm on a Saturday, just go think about it, alright? We’re going to make Mianmian’s cookies to take across to Margaret, we’ll set some aside for you.”
Lan Wangji frowns a little at that, startled out of his spiraling thoughts by the utterly uncharacteristic decision from Wen Qing to not only bake cookies for someone, but specifically for a woman she claims to barely tolerate. As far as distractions go, it’s surprisingly effective. It’s Luo Qingyang who clears that up for him too, still smiling sweetly.
“I think Peggy’s one of us,” she says with a wink. “I’ve seen her snooping around the outside of the Corner Bar one too many times for her to have been ‘just a little lost’, I want her to know we’re here for her if she needs people to talk to.”
“Right,” Lan Wangji manages, and the only thing that keeps him from mumbling it is all his uncle’s comportment lessons as a boy. “That is…good. Mn.” He drifts out of the kitchen in a daze to return to his spot on the couch, mind churning uncomfortably through so much new information that he was in no way prepared for. He can hear Wen Qing and Luo Qingyang chatting quietly in the kitchen as they bake, occasionally breaking into laughter, and it soothes him to hear his best friend and her partner free to be themselves. Happy.
This is what he’d promised her. He’d sworn to her that they’d keep each other safe, that she could be herself with him and he would be there for her. Encourage her. He’s only realizing now that he’d never truly anticipated she would need to uphold her promises to do the same for him. He’d been so certain that he would spend his life entirely celibate, too afraid of being hurt, being in danger, to ever pursue a partner for himself. He had accepted that. But now, with the possibility of not having to accept it in front of him, it feels like his entire world has been flipped upside down. It’s terrifying. It’s uncomfortable.
But he knows Wei Wuxian. He trusts him. He, if he’s being honest with himself, loves him already. Desperately, in his own quiet, hidden ways. If pursuing that love means he has to feel like he’s falling up into space then he hopes he never finds his footing again.
“What are you going to do?” Wen Qing asks him quietly on Monday morning when he comes downstairs for breakfast, dressed for the day as usual in one of his most comfortable suits. “Will you tell him?”
“I do not know,” he answers honestly. He’s had a day and a half to think about it, and though he knows he wants Wei Wuxian, wants whatever the man will give him, he has utterly no idea how to go about actually getting it. Wen Qing had come to him on her own to ask him to start ‘dating’, and had proposed their marriage to him as well in her usual no-nonsense way. He has never once, in his entire life, practiced going after the things he wants like this, and certainly never with so much at stake.
Wen Qing, mercifully, leaves him to his thoughts without sharing any of her opinions on the matter (though he’s sure she has plenty). She sends him off at the door at the usual time with a reassuring squeeze to his hand and he appreciates it, the quiet reminder that no matter what happens he still has her. They’d promised - support and companionship. Security. He can be safe with her, even if everything else falls apart. 
When he arrives at the studio it’s to find Wei Wuxian only just arriving to unlock the door, his shoulders a little slumped and his hair tied up sloppily in a red ribbon, much brighter than the faded maroon of his shirt. Lan Wangji thinks of Luo Qingyang saying that he’d been ‘moping’ on Friday night, and he wonders with a pang if that’s still the case.
“Wei Ying,” he greets, and the man turns to look at him over his shoulder, already grinning at the sight of him.
“Lan Zhan! Right on time as always. Sorry I’m not already set up, I slept in this morning.”
“No need, Wei Ying deserves to rest.”
Wei Wuxian just chuckles at that and steps into the studio. The first thing Lan Wangji notices when he steps inside is that the place absolutely reeks of cigarette smoke, and he glances automatically at the ubiquitous little cardboard box that had taken up residence in Wei Wuxian’s pockets a few weeks ago. He hasn’t actually seen him smoking, but now he supposes that’s just because Wei Wuxian does it on his own rather than because he doesn’t actually do it at all.
“Ah…I’ll just. Open the windows,” Wei Wuxian says sheepishly with a little wrinkle of his nose that’s unfairly adorable.
“Mn.”
Lan Wangji shuts the door behind them and begins undressing. After having done it so many times he barely hesitates at all, even when it comes to removing his trousers which is still such a new development. His hands are shaking today like they haven’t since those first few days of undressing here, but he knows that at least this morning it has very little to do with baring himself for Wei Wuxian’s gaze - which, now that he can be honest with himself about his feelings, had thrilled him just as much as it had terrified him when Wei Wuxian mentioned it during that very first meeting.
“So - before you get comfortable on the sofa for the day,” Wei Wuxian starts with a smirk to invite him to join in the joke that is ‘comfortable’, as his pose is far from it, “I want to let you know that since I’ll be moving onto the final piece now I need to take some um..measurements. Well a lot of them, actually. To build to scale.”
It hardly takes any consideration at all for Lan Wangji to see the logic of that and he nods easily, unsure why Wei Wuxian is blushing about it.
It takes roughly two minutes more for Lan Wangji to understand the reason for that too.
He’s been measured for suits his entire life, stood on many a tailor’s podium with his feet spread shoulder-width apart and grit his teeth until the process was over. He has never once had a handsome man’s hands on his bare skin, measuring every conceivable part of his body. It’s a very different experience, and one he has no interest in ending any time soon. 
Wei Wuxian’s clever, lovely fingers skim across shoulders, ribs, down his arms, circle around his wrists…his neck. He finds a robin’s egg blue silk ribbon somewhere in all his many scraps of fabric and uses it to tie Lan Wangji’s hair up for him when it proves to be too inconvenient to ask him to hold it up out of the way in a loose bun on top of his head, and somehow the gentle hold of it at the back of his head, the bottom two thirds of his hair still hanging loose to drape over his shoulders, leaves him feeling more exposed than if it were all still gathered neatly out of the way.
He stands still in the middle of Wei Wuxian’s studio, in front of a mirror he’s never seen before but that Wei Wuxian seems to be using to help with the measuring process, and he settles into the low-simmering arousal of being naked for Wei Wuxian as the man, fully dressed, circles him slowly. Touches him, polite and businesslike but reverent in the same way he’s been every single time he’s ever touched him. Lan Wangji glances down on instinct when Wei Wuxian stops in front of him to measure the breadth of his chest from shoulder to shoulder and his next inhale catches when he sees Wei Wuxian’s sturdy leather boots so close to his own bare feet, a large fold in the stiffened skirt of his apron a hairsbreadth from brushing against his thigh.
Wei Wuxian has forgone his usual clay-stained overalls for the day, dressed instead in worn trousers and a sinfully soft short-sleeved button up, sleeves cuffed over the strong curves of his biceps, all of it haphazardly protected by a softened denim apron that does actually brush Lan Wangji’s skin in the next moment when Wei Wuxian steps just a centimeter too close. Lan Wangji’s hands are practically aching with the desire to push it all off him and strip him down as well, even as he thrills at the power dynamic of being so vulnerable in front of Wei Wuxian, still completely put-together and in control of Lan Wangji’s every movement.
Wen Qing’s question pings helpfully in the front of his mind again when he looks up from the narrow space between them to meet Wei Wuxian’s wide, dark eyes.
What are you going to do?
Wei Wuxian’s fingers twitch on his chest and he swallows once before he leans back to scribble messily in his notebook balanced on the edge of his workbench, the furniture shoved aside for the moment to accommodate the mirror and give them room for Wei Wuxian to circle around him easily. They continue on in silence like that - nothing but their breathing, the occasional creak of leather or the wooden floor, and the slither of the tape measure through Wei Wuxian’s fingers to break it - for almost half an hour before Wei Wuxian finally takes a step back and studies him, color high in his cheeks.
“I have a few more to do,” he says, which Lan Wangji had expected considering he hasn’t even done his legs. He nods and follows easily when Wei Wuxian sits down on his stool sandwiched carefully between the mirror and the overladen table that Lan Wangji has spent hours looking at over Wei Wuxian’s shoulder. He’s meant many times to ask him about the family of statues on the top of it and is tempted to ask now, but whatever’s happening between them right now is..fragile in a way he can’t explain, but that he knows he doesn’t want to break. He stands silently beside the mirror as Wei Wuxian leans over - stretching out the lean line of his body for Lan Wangji to savor - to drop his tape measure on the workbench and swap it out for a pair of wooden calipers. Lan Wangji can’t resist raising an eyebrow when Wei Wuxian clears his throat and gestures vaguely at his hips.
Not that he needs permission, Lan Wangji would give Wei Wuxian anything, but he nods anyway and offers the man his usual quiet but firm, “Mn.” The familiar gesture makes Wei Wuxian smile up at him and Lan Wangji slides his hand up the side of the mirror to curl his fingers over the corner of the sturdy wooden frame - he’s afraid his knees will give out from under him if he doesn’t.
Wei Wuxian’s hands are visibly trembling as he adjusts the calipers a few times anxiously without bringing them anywhere near Lan Wangji’s cock (which is not nearly as soft as would be appropriate in a professional setting, though it’s thankfully not hard either) - and then he suddenly reaches into his pocket to draw out a brand new pack of cigarettes to pull one out and pop it between his lips.
What are you going to do?
Lan Wangji reaches out before he can think twice about it to take the lighter from Wei Wuxian’s shaking hands. As Wei Wuxian looks up at him, startled, he maintains steady eye-contact as he flicks the lid back on its hinge.
Spins the wheel under the side of his thumb with a metallic ring. 
There’s a nearly inaudible whoosh as the flame catches, hot and bright in his hand, and then Lan Wangji holds it out at hip height, mere inches from his own pelvis.
If Wei Wuxian wants a light, he’ll have to lean in close to get it.
They spend an endless moment blinking at each other, and Lan Wangji thinks in that moment that an understanding of the sort they’ve been dancing around for two months, since the moment they met, finally passes between them. Wei Wuxian lounges sideways slowly, ankles crossed next to Lan Wangji’s bare feet, elbow resting on the back support of his stool. His calipers dangle carelessly from his relaxed hand as he raises the other hand to hold his cigarette steady between his index and middle fingers as he leans in, in, in - and holds the tip of it to the flame cupped in Lan Wangji’s fingers.
Lan Wangji tucks one ankle carefully in front of the other and settles in with a relieved little sigh, the weight of years lifted from his shoulders in the moment between Wei Wuxian lighting his cigarette and flickering his heated gaze up to meet his, eyes glinting with the warmth of the flame. 
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Lan Wangji flips the lid of the lighter over to snuff out the fire with another metallic little click, fingers clutching tight around the cool metal of it nestled in his palm. Wei Wuxian breathes deeply, takes the cigarette from his lips, and turns his head to the side to exhale again.
“Lan Zhan-” he chokes, his gaze fixed on the bare expanse of wall beside them. “I can’t-”
“My wife is a lesbian,” Lan Wangji blurts, panic moving him to speak bluntly. Heated glances and mutual understanding, one queer man to another, are all well and good, but he also knows that Wei Wuxian is a good man, a righteous man - he won’t step anywhere close to what he sees as an unforgivable breach of trust, but Lan Wangji can’t lose him. Not now, not ever. He can force himself to speak clearly for the sake of something so vital. Wei Wuxian will keep him safe.  “She had her coming out just recently. Friday evening.”
Wei Wuxian looks up at him again sharply, eyes wide with quick understanding.
“Mianmian?”
“Wen Qing’s girlfriend of three months, as of this week.”
Wei Wuxian exhales shakily and takes another fortifying drag off his cigarette - and the moment he does he seems to remember just how it was lit, and by whom, and his cheeks flush the deepest red Lan Wangji has seen on him yet.
“And you, Lan Zhan?”
“Pleased that my wife has found a lover to make her happy. And…” Lan Wangji swallows down years of shame, embarrassment, longing for something he’d never hoped to have in order to add, “I believe it is time I allowed myself to find my own.”
Wei Wuxian stares up at him for a breathless eternity, and then in quick succession he tosses his cigarette down to the floor to grind the lit end between his boot and the wood, jerks to his feet, and then his hands are on Lan Wangji again, firmer than before and without the excuse of the tape measure to mask his intention. Lan Wangji releases the mirror and the lighter clatters to the floor beside their feet in favor of having his hands free to reach towards the other man, to cup Wei Wuxian’s jaw, both hands curled tightly against that beloved face so he can pull him in and kiss him with barely-controlled hunger. There isn’t an ounce of hesitation left in either of them as their mouths meet, parted and perfect.
Lan Wangji may take a long time to make up his mind, but when it’s made he does nothing by halves; now that he knows what it feels like to have Wei Wuxian melted against his chest, lips soft and open in eager permission for Lan Wangji’s clumsy, amateur kisses, he knows he can never live happily without it again.
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erigold13261 · 1 month
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I read your domain post and I LOVE IT!!! I LOVE HOW IT CONNECTS TADC AND THE WORLD IN SUCH A NATURAL WAY!!! so as a suggestion for the culling games, we can have Kenjaku (who wants to see all people evolve and make rise to a new age of powers) make domains to alter humans into some sort of power holder/psychic/elemental with Tengen…
Oh I haven't even GOTTEN to Tengen yet lol. (also glad you like how I was able to make domains work! Before I knew about JJK it was just gonna be the Collective Conscious as it spawned creatures of magic to life through consciousness, but now it is that AND domains!)
Fun fact about them! Tengen was the FIRST ever entity to ever exist in the world!
The world had gone through a similar stage that it is at now a long time ago. However, only one entity was needed to be an anchor as, though it was a similar event, the actual level of magic the world had then at that peak was SIGNIFICANTLY smaller than what it has now (which is an unnatural amount due to an event about 15 years before the timeskip is over).
So Tengen was the first and only entity for a very long time. And since they were made of pure magic, they basically were the first immortal being as well.
Kenjaku and Sukuna are humans who turned into semi-entities thanks to their powers as they have harnessed so much magic and power through their life that they are basically entities.
Thanks to this, Sukuna can stay alive and well even without a body for long periods of time while staying connected to the Collective Unconscious as he waits for Kenjaku (and later Medusa) to make the perfect vessel for him to reanimate!
Anyway, enough about that! I kinda like that idea of the Culling Games! Perhaps I can combine it with my like "dlc" version of domain hopping boss fights lol.
So like, Kenjaku does something to the domains, probably opens up bridge domains in whole areas like how he set up colonies for people to fight in, and have people fight in there release more magic into the world.
Because see, when someone dies, they release their magic to the world (unless you are Mechamaru, Toji, Maki, or anyone else with a heavenly restriction which keeps all magic and powers from ever leaving the body even after death).
So Kenjaku could be wanting to "merge" the two worlds of the "real" world and the domain in a way to kill off anyone who wouldn't be able to survive (which are people without powers or aren't elementals).
Perhaps in Kenjaku's mind, or Kenjaku actually does something with a power, the merger will merger all humans, robots, and entities in a way that would create a whole new mortal for the world to host.
Though honestly, I think we'll have to wait a bit to see what the merger really does in canon before I get to this part of the Eriverse. Because while I am sure we know what will happen with the merger, it's been a bit for me so I forget a lot of the important details.
I'll watch some videos on it when I get a chance and come back to this stuff, but I do think combining the Culling Games with the domains is a good way to take things!
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A guy in the jury of the German version of American Idol recently compared the COVID lockdown to concentration camps, so the producers were like "Nope", blurred him out, replaced everything he said with speech bubbles, beeped out his name everytime it was mentioned and even replaced the performance of a contestant who sang one of his songs with a generic jingle.
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When the contestant was singing his song, they also showed this:
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Contestant Christian chose a song by the judge we removed from the show due to his unspeakable remarks. That’s why we also won’t play this judge’s music.
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Paper Rings
Pairing: James Potter x Reader
Summary: On his first ride to Hogwarts, James befriended the girl who was obsessed with shiny things. Over their schooling together, their friendship turned into so much more.
A/N: lmao I suck at summaries. Also I’m back sorry for the random hiatus (and sorry that posting will almost definitely not be consistent after this either). I had this idea months ago, inspired by Taylor Swift’s Paper Rings, and I only just got around to writing it asdfghjkl. Still obsessed with James though rip me I just want someone to love me like this.
Warnings: Mentions of eating (briefly), otherwise just a lot of fluff.
Wordcount: 4k (wow)
...
Little James Potter waved goodbye to his parents as the train took off from the platform, nervous about his first journey to the infamous Hogwarts, but excited to discover all the great things his parents had told him for himself. First though: finding a carriage.
Trying not to show his nerves, he wandered along the corridor, peeping into the carriages to see if there was one he could join. For the most part, he found them all too full, too loud to juggle his nerves, or the students too old and intimidating. The days would come where James would rule the corridors of the castle, but the eleven year old boy on the train was just hoping to make a friend he could share this new adventure with.
As fate would have it, he found just that and so much more. In a carriage to herself sat a young girl, his age, her face turned away from him looking out the window. The only thing he could see was a petite sparkling bow, sitting neatly in her (y/h/c) hair.
Without thinking about it, he knocked gently on the compartment door, sliding it open as she turned to look at him inquisitively. Her (y/e/c) eye’s glittered as her lips pulled into a smile, creating a complete sense of comfort for James to ask. “Do you mind if I sit?” She nodded eagerly, gathering up a few books she had dumped on the opposite seat and dropping them into her lap. “I’m James.” He smiled.
“(y/n). It’s nice to meet you.”
They sat in a comfortable silence for a short while, listening to the laughs of older students, friends reuniting after a summer apart, and watching the landscape whip by them out the window.
“I like your bow, by the way.” James spoke up, feeling glad he did when an excited smile broke across her face, looking as if he’d told her she’d won the lottery.
“Thank you! I love the way it sparkles.” She said, gently pulling it from her hair and twisting it in the sunlight, showing how rainbows danced in the glitter and were thrown across their compartment. Satisfied, she used it to clip back the hair that was now falling into her face, and their conversation moved on, following each and every thought they were having, becoming fast friends. James didn’t think the journey could get any better until two boys showed up at their door and asked if they could join them, setting everlasting friendships in stone.
As the train pulled up to Hogwarts, any nervousness James had been feeling was gone. Instead, the only thought he had was that he couldn’t be more glad he sat in the compartment of the girl with the sparkling bow.
Their first year passed in a blur, and the Marauders spent the majority of it in each other’s company, laughing their days away.
Now, summer had come and gone, and their second year at Hogwarts was in full swing. They walked into their charms class together, laughing about a joke Sirius had made at James’ expense. (y/n) sat next to the curly-haired boy at their desk, as Remus Sirius and Peter sat at the one adjacent to them.
“Hey, it’s not my fault I didn’t make the team last year! No first year has made a house team in like 80 years! I’m telling you though, I’ll make it on this year, and I’ll be the best chaser this school has ever seen.” James protested, huffing as he put his textbook in the middle of the table for him and (y/n) to share. She laughed at him softly, hand patting his shoulder as the other boys got lost in their own conversation.
“I know you will, Jamie. And I’ll be there cheering you on every step of the way.” His cheeks redenned at her words, but luckily their attention was turned away by Professor Flitwick.
“Now students, the charm I’ll be teaching you today is more of a fun one to start off the year than anything you’ll likely need in your everyday lives. As always, I don’t expect you to create chaos by using these charms” – he turned his gaze to a particular group of students at this point who were all busily looking elsewhere – “but simply to enlighten yourselves and to show you what magic can do. So, the charm we’ll be learning today is how to make things glitter.”
James heard an almost inaudible gasp next to him, and he could feel the excitement radiating off (y/n). He chuckled, expecting nothing less; he’d known her for a year now, and if it wasn’t the bow in her hair there was always something shiny on her at any given time.
Flitwick talked about the details of the charm, how it could be applied subtly, only giving a faint sheen, or how it could be made much more obvious. Finally, he gave them the charm and told everyone to repeat after him. “Now, like I said, just because this is a fun charm doesn’t mean it’s an easy one, and I don’t expect you to get it on your first attempt. Just keep repeating the charm and-oh!” He broke off suddenly, just as James’ vision went hazy. Once he’d focused, he saw he was surrounded by a cloud of individual glitter specs floating around them, almost as if they were in their own galaxy. His gaze shifted to its centre, shining most brilliantly of all as her proud and excited smile dazzled him, making him forget entirely they were still in their charms classroom.
“Well done Miss (y/n)!” Flitwick’s voice broke through their bubble, and slowly each star seemed to fade out of existence, until they were back in their regular old classroom, thirty pairs of eyes trained on them. “You certainly felt the spirit of the charm and went above and beyond. 10 points to (y/h). Now, if you could help Mr Potter whilst we all get back to it!”
Chatter burst out the classroom almost immediately, partners working together trying to enchant an object of theirs to take on the glittery effect. Sirius turned to her, rolling his eyes half-heartedly.
“Becoming a teachers pet now are we, (y/l/n)?” She rolled her eyes back, waving her wand to produce a cloud of glitter that settled in Sirius’ hair, contrasting sharply against its darkness.
“It’s sparklesSirius, what did you expect? Now c’mon, this is the one lesson I won’t let you not do the work in. Make some glittery greatness and I’ll bake you all some cookies when I next steal James’ cloak to go to the kitchens.” With those words, the three boys turned their entire focus to the task at hand, while James still seemed slightly awestruck next to her. “You alright, J?”
“That was amazing (y/n/n). I had no idea you could do that.”
“Well I guess you can’t know until you try.” She shrugged, picking up her quill and placing it in front of him. “Charm my quill.”
“Why me? You could just do it yourself.” James asked, confused why she didn’t do it herself since she was clearly more than capable. Once again, she shrugged, looking into his eyes as she uttered the words so nonchalantly that would stick with him for years to come.
“Well, Flitwick said you needed to practise. Plus, it’ll mean more to me if every time I look at my quill I know that you’re the reason it’s shining.”
Within a heartbeat, James had uttered the incantation and a subtle shimmer had settled over the feather, imperceptible until it was moved and caught the light. The smile he saw when he looked over at (y/n) made him vow to himself that as long as he was around, she would never have an ordinary quill again.
True to his word, every time she brought out a new quill, he was quick to snatch it from her and place the simple charm on it. It became an unspoken promise between the two of them, and every time James saw that sparkle from the corner of his eye, he couldn’t help but smile to himself.
. . .
True to her word, (y/n) was there for all of James’ games, cheering him on from the side of the pitch, always the first to reach him when the game was over. High or low, win or lose, she was always there to remind him that he had played amazingly, and that she was proud of him.
After one such game in their fourth year, Gryffindor narrowly losing to Slytherin, she was at his side so quickly that he would have thought she had apparated if he knew this wasn’t possible. She wrapped her arms around him and held him tightly, feeling the slight shaking of his shoulders. “Oh, James.” She quickly ushered him off the pitch before he attracted eyes, assuring him that Sirius and Remus would collect his things from the changing room and bring them back to his dorm. Once they reached his dorm, she sent him to shower, promising that she would be there for him once he was back.
Sure enough, he came out of the shower in fresh clothes and damp hair, and she was still on his bed, patiently waiting for him. She held her hand out to him, a silent invitation, and as soon as he took it she pulled him to her side and once again enveloped him in a hug.
“I’m so proud of you, Jamie.” She whispered, squeezing him momentarily before drawing back and looking into his glassy eyes.
“Shouldn’t be.” He murmured, avoiding her gaze. “We lost.”
“And yet you scored more goals than anyone else the entire game.” She pointed out, sincerity lacing her voice. “It’s just because the snitch is worth a stupid amount of points, honestly the game has a lot of flaws.” James smiled weakly, they often had these debates about Quidditch and it always ended in some silly way.
“I did hit Malfoy in the head with a Quaffle.” He admitted, and (y/n) could see the weight falling off his shoulders.
“The highlight of all our years.” She laughed, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a little box. “I got you something.” She handed it to him, and he pushed it back to her, head shaking, doubt returned.
“No I didn’t do anything to deserve it. Keep it.”
“We already had this argument and I’m not taking no for an answer.” She shoved the box into his hands and folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to open it.
Reluctantly, he pulled the lid off the box to reveal a snitch, the snitch he normally kept on his person at all times, now shining with a slight iridescence. James looked up at her, thankful but a little confused at the present.
“I’ve actually been saving it for when you lose a game. Which has been hard because that’s hardly ever.” She broke off to give him a playful glare along with her words, quickly broken by her soft smile. “I know you play with the snitch when you have a lot on your mind, and when you start to doubt yourself. I wanted to remind you that you’re incredible and you should believe that yourself. So, when you see the snitch and you see it sparkle, you’ll think of me, and you’ll remember how great you are.” He was speechless, and in the silent air, she did what the two of them did best, and started to nervously babble. “Well, that’s assuming you think of me when you see sparkles, and quite frankly after all this time I’d be slightly offended if you didn’t-oof” her rambling stopped when James tackled her into a hug, knocking them both back onto the bed.
“Thank you.” Was all he said, but she could hear the emotion behind each word, everything he was trying to communicate. All she did was hold him tighter.
It was then that Sirius and Remus walked into the dorm, carrying all of James’ equipment from the game, causing James and (y/n) to jump away from each other. Blushes arose on both their faces, not that the other would have noticed, each too busy looking at opposite walls of the dorm. Sirius and Remus exchanged a knowing look, but decided to let it slide, knowing there was an inevitability to it anyway.
Once again, (y/n) was boarding the Hogwarts express for another year of school. She knew this year would be a stressful one, with their OWL exams coming up, but she also knew that as long as she had her boys by her side, she would be absolutely fine.
Speaking of her friends, she was currently walking along the train trying to find them. She knew that Lily and Remus were prefects now so they’d be at the front of the train, but she was struggling to find anyone else. Eventually, she found James, sitting in a carriage by himself, absentmindedly watching the view. She chuckled to herself at the situation, the reverse of their meeting all those years ago.
She slid the door open, catching his attention and his ever-so-addictive smile. “Got room for an old pal?” She asked, sitting next to him when he patted the seat, his hand enveloping hers as soon as she had, a silent communication. I missed you.
“I was starting to think you’d gotten cool and forgotten about me.” He joked, nudging her playfully.
“Piss off Potter, I was always cooler than you.” She teased back, glad to see that nothing had changed despite their time apart. It never did, they were always James and (y/n), inseparable no matter how hard anyone tried. “Where is everyone?”
“Lils and Moony are doing prefect duties, and Sirius enlisted Peter’s help to try and sneak into their carriage and get the insider information.” He rolled his eyes light-heartedly, forming air quotes around Sirius’ words as (y/n) laughed, eyes closing in amusement. “What’s that on your eyes?” James suddenly asked, stopping her laughter short as she tried to figure out what he meant.
“Oh!” She remembered. “I went to see Lils in the holidays and she was showing me this glitter eyeliner that muggles wear! Why, do you not like it?” She suddenly felt self-conscious, wondering if it really was too much despite Lily’s reassurances. It was a subtle white, but still, it was glitter on her face.
“The opposite!” James was quick to answer, rushing so much to not hurt her feelings that he wasn’t thinking about what he was saying. “I think you look really beautiful (y/n/n), with or without the makeup. Besides, the glitter brings out your eyes.”
At this point, they were both blushing furiously, and James was still holding her hand, neither of them willing to let go. (y/n) couldn’t help but smile to herself, and remembered to thank Lily for the recommendation the second they were in the dorm together that evening.
James climbed the last step into the astronomy tower, seeing (y/n) leaning against the railing already, gazing into the night sky, a blanket and an array of snacks out on the floor behind her.
It was a ritual they’d started who knows when, a chance to wind down and escape the chaos of everyday life, to enjoy each other’s company and to feast away on whatever snacks they had managed to stow away for these evenings. Tonight’s selection looked to consist mostly of cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs, with the occasional sugar quill hidden amongst the rest. “Heavy on the sugar tonight, I see.” He broke the silence teasingly, settling himself so that he was sat at (y/n)’s feet, still able to see the clear night sky above them.
“If I don’t consume my own bodyweight in sugar I think I’ll pass out I’m that exhausted.” She commented back, sinking down next to him. Automatically, his arm wound around her shoulder, pulling her into his side and resting his chin on top of her head. There weren’t words to describe the feeling of pure content as she melted into him, completely at ease.
She reached out and grabbed a chocolate frog, unwrapping it and handing the card to James with a sigh upon seeing it was one already in her collection. She bit into the chocolate, her gaze on the night sky as his was unable to break away from her, the way she settled so peacefully against him.
“The stars sparkle too, you know.” She broke the silence, voice quiet but still holding its signature melodic tone. James finally broke away from looking at her, joining her eyeline and looking at the constellations above them. Even though he wasn’t taking astronomy as a NEWT, spending so much time in the tower with (y/n) as she mapped the sky meant he knew precisely what he was looking at, and traced the constellations with his eyes.
“You know, six years of friendship and I don’t think I ever asked you why you like shiny things so much. I always just accepted it as a part of who you are.” A smile graced her face as she unconsciously twiddled her fingers.
“Don’t laugh.” She warned, and he solemnly shook his head. “I think there’s something so entrancing, so beautiful about them. I think it serves as a reminder that even the most seemingly dull thing,” she picked up another chocolate frog box at this point, waving her wand to create a light sparkle over it, “is wonderfully brilliant if you just remember to look at it in the right way. It’s a lesson we should all carry with us, and I try to remember it whenever I can. Everything is beautiful if you give it a chance.” The sparkles on the box faded in the moonlight, as (y/n) finally looked up at James, only to find him already staring back at her.
Body thinking quicker than brain, seeing her (y/e/c) eyes glimmering up at him, James leant down and pressed his lips to hers. She stifled a gasp, quickly moving her lips back against his as her hand wound gently around the back of his neck. He poured all of his admiration into the kiss, everything he had been feeling for her since he didn’t even know when, feeling his heart soar to be here with her in that moment.
Eventually, they broke away for air, and a breathy laugh fell from (y/n)’s lips, blush rising on her cheeks as she turned her face away. James reached for her hand, interlacing their fingers and gently rubbing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb. “I’ve been drawn to you since the day I saw you in that train carriage. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, your soul. I didn’t even realise the outside matched until we came back from that summer you spent with Lily. But god, every day since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I like you, (y/n/n). I really like you.”
Around them, a shimmering cloud exploded simultaneous to a wide grin spreading across (y/n)’s face. It was their own galaxy, just like all that time ago in the charms lesson, but she was still in the centre, still giddy with excitement. “I like you too, Jamie.” Her smile turned a little sheepish. “And sorry, I think my emotions got a little out of control.” The star-like sparkles slowly dissipated around them until there was nothing left, and this time it was (y/n) who leaned up to James, connecting their lips one more time.
“You taste like chocolate.”
“I’m sure that must be awful for you, Potter”. Nothing had changed, and yet nothing would be the same either.
James was sat on the floor of his dorm, textbooks open in front of him, although this late in the day he was struggling to pay any attention to them. What he was focused on instead was his girlfriend, tucked into the alcove of the windowsill, absentmindedly writing away on a piece of parchment.
Her (y/h/c) hair was in plaits down her back, and in the candlelight the silver threads that James had helped her braid in this morning were casting light across the room that shifted with every little shake of her head or shrug of her shoulders.
“You’re staring again, Jamie.” She chastised, although the humour was clear in her voice. He pushed himself up from the floor with an exaggerated groan, making his way over to her and pulling her gently into his chest, pressing a soft kiss into her hair.
“Can’t help it love, you’re an actual angel.” He didn’t see it but he knew she’d be rolling her eyes as she buried her face in his chest to hide the blush that was forming on her cheeks.
“Stop being so cheesy.”
“As if you don’t love it.” She pressed a kiss into his chest, resting her head against him as she went back to her writing. He tried not to pry, but he couldn’t help but catch notice of his name and his interest piqued. “Who are you writing to?”
“Euphemia.” She replied nonchalantly, not pausing her actions as he took a step away, face scrunched in confusion.
“My mother?” she paused at this, looking up at him with false exasperation.
“Do you know many other Euphemias?” She deadpanned. He shrugged, admitting her fair point, moving back to her side where she immediately snuggled back into his warmth.
“How long have you been writing to my mum?” She paused for a second, contemplating.
“Since the start of term I think. She sent an owl, I responded, we haven’t really stopped talking since. Oh, I’m coming over for Christmas by the way, she invited me. Said it wouldn’t be Christmas without the whole family there” (y/n) looked up at him, flashing a mischievous grin, expecting him to whine childishly like he normally would, complaining that he was supposed to ask her. Instead, looking more solemn than she’d seen him in a long time, he crushed her against him, holding her so tightly before he leant down and connected their lips. The kiss was bruising, but it was packed with adoration, and it left (y/n) slightly breathless. He broke away, leaning his forehead against hers as she tried to catch her breath back. “What was that for?”
“I love you. So much. You’re absolutely perfect, and I swear, I can’t wait until the day I can put a ring on that finger and make it official, make you a Potter for real. I promise, it’s going to be the most sparkling, dazzling gem you’ve ever seen. It’ll shine just as brightly as you, and it’ll always remind you that you’re beautiful, in every way, and just how much I love you.” Her hand had come to rest on his cheek, smiling throughout his little speech, parchment cast aside and forgotten about at this point.
“Don’t be silly, James.” She laughed, stroking his cheek with her thumb. “I love shiny things, yes, but I don’t need one to be reminded of how amazing you are, or how much I love you. Hell, you could ask me to marry you with a paper ring and I’d still say yes in a heartbeat. I’m saying yes to you, to a life. You don’t need to win me over with some ridiculously expensive piece of jewellery.” He nodded slightly, pecking her lips before moving back to where he had been sat on the floor.
(y/n) picked her parchment back up, continuing on to the letter she had been writing to Euphemia Potter, unable to help themselves from planning the Christmas festivities despite it being early November.
Deep in concentration, she startled slightly as she noticed movement coming from the corner of her eye. She looked to the side to see her boyfriend once again, although this time he was knelt before her, holding up a piece of parchment that he had hastily fashioned into a ring, coupled with a sheepish smile.
Laughing merrily, she hopped down from the windowsill, pulling him up by his jumper and kissing him passionately as she slid the piece of paper onto her finger, looking forward to the day when they were older, when they could promise this for real, knowing that they had the rest of their lives ahead of them to love each other unconditionally.
When James first stepped on that Hogwarts train, he was hoping to find a friend he could share every moment with for the next seven years. He had found that in her, a best friend, now a lover, for seven years but for so much longer. The girl with the sparkling bow turned out to be his soulmate, and he sent a prayer of thanks to the stars every day.
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gyusbambi · 3 years
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humph; han seojun (pt 2)
 click here for humph masterlist!
part 1, part 3
story: frenemies to enemies to lovers, high school au
synopsis: seojun and you have known each other since kindergarten. you’re neighbors and even attended the same singing and piano classes. despite knowing each other for such a long time, you don’t enjoy spending time with seojun. even though you are aware of his unfairness, you keep spending time with him. when will you finally leave your childhood frenemy?
note: juyeong is reader’s brother and is not related to the lims, jugyeong doesn’t exist in this story. humph! is a story inspired by pentagon's "humph! / 접근금지". originally, this is a seungyeon fanfiction, which i posted on my wattpad. words: 4k
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after the encounter, you try your best to avoid han seojun. everytime you spot him walking in the hallways, your feet start moving faster. every so often you won’t allow yourself to put all of your books into your locker and end up carrying the heavy things during the whole day. why does his locker have to be next to yours anyway?
seojun might be academically not the best, but he sure isn’t dumb.
clearly, he notices how you turn around and walk into a complete different classroom whenever he makes an appearance in the same hallway. he also notices how you always walk around with piles of books, never taking the chance to place them into your locker, since his own happens to be next to yours.
one day he spots lee suho helping you with carrying your books. smiling, you thank your friend and hand him over some of them. while heading towards the classroom together, you talk about the upcoming school trip. unfortunately, you’re not quite able to see what’s in front of you since the pile of books cover your sight slightly. yet, as seojun walks past suho, his shoulder hits suho’s which makes the books fall out of his hands with a loud thud. 
quickly, you help suho collect the books on the floor and don’t fail to notice him muttering,
“what’s his problem?” 
_
it’s an entertaining thursday evening as you spend time in the karaoke bar with your classmates. kang soojin, who happens to be suho’s childhood friend, asked you and suho to tag along with them. first, lee suho declined the kind offer but you luckily managed to convince him. 
the noraebang is filled with laughter when taehoon, sua’s boyfriend, sings his lungs out to his favorite song. after your eyes wander from the couple too soojin and then too suho, a smile forms on your face. taehoon’s arm is around suho’s shoulder as they both sing a ballad. you’re happy that suho opens up to others more and you enjoy being able to spend time with these four, feeling like you’re making new friends.
however, it feels a little strange that seojun and chorong aren’t around. you remember how you would go to the karaoke bar every saturday, sometimes it was only seojun and you. secretly, you adored listening to his voice.
suddenly, the notification sound of your phone wakes you up from your short trance. 
juyeong: why is seojun hyung’s bike in front of our house?
it’s a message from your younger brother. why hasn’t seojun picked up his bike yet?
while the others continue singing, you excuse yourself and walk outside in order to call your younger brother. patiently, you walk back and forth, waiting for him to answer the call. you sigh when he doesn’t pick up and are about to dial his number again.
before you can do so, you jump and let out a yelp at a familiar voice,
“y/n?”
it’s han seojun.
frightened you turn around, palm pressed to your heart.
“you scared me!” closing your eyes, you let out a relieved breath.
“you’re here too?” seojun ignores your shocked reaction.
“yes.”
“with whom?”
taken aback, you stay silent for a short moment, not knowing how to respond. clearly, you’re aware that seojun, for some reason, isn’t on good terms with suho. therefore, you wouldn’t want him to start a conflict with the innocent boy right here, at the karaoke bar.
“uh, i’m here with soojin a-”
abruptly you trail off when you spot lee suho himself at the entrance, searching for you while his glance shifts through the place. luckily, seojun’s back is facing the entrance. the boy in front of you waits for you to continue but is caught off guard when you pull him around the corner, before suho can find you.
“what are you doing?” seojun questions with lines forming between his brows.
nervously, you try to come up with an excuse while avoiding his gaze, checking behind his back if suho saw you, 
“your motorcycle-”
“look who we have over here! seojunnie!”
at the sound of lee sungyong and his gang you stop talking and observe an annoyed expression appear on seojun’s face.
when you turn around to face them, they let out surprised laughs,
“y/n, long time no see!”
“why do you have to here.” seojun groan.
soon, you sense that something bad could happen any moment which makes you dart your glance around the area nervously, looking for a possible way out. timidly, you draw your mouth into a straight line before your fingers firmly grip around seojun’s, pulling him away from the others without thinking twice. the young boy seems shocked by your actions as his legs adjust to your pace.
in no time, you find yourself running away from lee sungyong and his gang, your hand still clutched on seojun’s wrist. adrenaline courses through your veins as you pass several stores, pushing people out of your way. to the sound of lee sungyong shouting your names, you keep your breath steady, push harder and run even faster. 
seojun himself forces his legs to push harder, his lungs straining. his breath thickening, he steals a quick glance at you. the wind whips your hair away from your face as you face forwards with an uneasy look. his mind is frantic with thoughts: how is it possible to move this fast?
yet, at this great speed, you can barely see a few feet ahead of you. your feet nearly slip from beneath you when your shoes pound heavily across the ground and mud splashes up your leg. 
noticing this, seojun rapidly takes your hand into his own without slowing down and takes the lead. since the boy is familiar with this dark area, he sprints around the next corner. the shoutings behind you don’t stop, demanding you to stop running. after sprinting for solid minutes, you finally hide behind a wall when seojun finds a way to trick the gangsters.
heart pounding faster than ever, you’re still concerned that they will find you. seojun squats down next to you, his legs tired from all the running. when your surroundings are safe, you swiftly stand up while your breath comes in short gasps. 
claiming you’re tired would be an understatement. you are exhausted. still you feel relieved that you could escape the group of boys.
moments later seojun sighs with annoyance behind you. 
“why did you have to drag me away?” the boy complains before you turn around to face him with a frown on your face.
it’s dark and quiet outside, indicating that it’s probably really late. the air is cold which makes you shiver for a moment. when you wait for him to continue instead of answering, seojun groans, not believing that you seriously don’t understand what he’s trying to point out.
“they’ll think it’s weird of us to run away like cowards. ah, you’re really dumb.”
“i’m dumb?”, you raise your voice with squinted eyes before he can leave,
“you’re the one who believes fish are wet.”
“fish are wet.” the boy slowly turns around to face you again.
“they’re not because they’re surrounded by water. once they get out of-”
“it’s water, y/n!”
it’s not worth arguing with someone as dumb as him.
with a mirthless smile you shake your head,
“you’re the dumb one.”
after that you leave to make your way home, completely forgetting to ask seojun about his motorcycle. the boy himself watches you walk away with a little worry. shouldn’t he walk you home at this time? ah, never mind. 
and so he walks home by himself, not used to the fact that his motorcycle is away from him.
_
the next day in school seems like a regular one. fortunately, you were able to get enough sleep this time. thankfully, seojun’s motorcycle was no longer parked in front of your house this morning. not expecting anything spectacular to happen, you enter the classroom with several books in your arms, like always. however, as soon as some of your classmates notice you, they walk to your seat with widen eyes.
“y/n! where were you last night?”, soojin asks you with a calm tone.
sua hits your shoulder playfully and whines, “do you know how worried we were?!”
oh, no. you completely forgot to contact them after your small adventure with han seojun.
“poor suho looked everywhere for you.”, taehoon pouts, his glance darting to suho, who was sitting on his seat peacefully.
after hearing taehoon’s words, you turn your head to the innocent boy with regret written on your face,
“i’m so sorry.”
“don’t worry, y/n. we’re glad you’re okay.” suho smiles at you as the others agree.
the day passes normally, like you predicted, until lunch break. 
considering kim chorong is nowhere to be seen, and you’re trying to stay away from han seojun, you sit next to you other friends during lunch. the same people from the karaoke bar talk about their plans after school, when suddenly everyone looks up to the sight of han seojun’s. his loud steps and irritated expression catches all the attention in the canteen.
however, you feel concerned when you’re approached by him, your heart beating a little faster.
“yah, y/l/n y/n.” 
you gulp when he carefully talks in a controlled voice, glaring at you through his cat like eyes,
“come out.”
the whole lunch room gasps with surprise at his statement, anticipating on what will happen next. just when he grabs your arm to drag you out of the room, lee suho steps between you both, slapping seojun’s grip away from your arm,
“what do you think you’re doing?”, he speaks with a low voice.
“you better stay out of this.”
han seojun hisses and holds on your uniform this time, pulling you away from the others.
your head is filled with endless questions when you’re forced to follow him out. what have you done wrong? the corridor is empty and silent as the boy in front of you pounds his hand on the wall behind you, leaving only a small gap between your faces. your back is pressed against the cold wall. 
blown away by the sudden closeness you swallow dryly, unable to wet your parched throat. his sudden change in mood slightly intimates you.
“you think you can piss me off easily?”
you’re taken aback when he snaps.
“wh-what are you talking about?” nervously, you stammer while excessively blinking.
after that, seojun laughs with edge, eyes leaving yours for a moment to remain his calm. why are you pretending to not know? seconds later he bends down to your height, now even closer than before. eyes looking deeply into yours, he tries to read you. yet, the only thing he’s able to see is your confusion.
“do you believe giving my keys to that bastard is funny?”
“i have no clue what you’re talking about.” 
luckily, the worry in you melts down a little but you’re still confused.
“you’re really starting to get on my nerves now. this morning lee sungyong came to me with these, and my damaged bike.”
frustrated, seojun takes his keys out of his jacket-pocket and holds them up for you too see. a line forms between your brows when you stare at the keys, waiting for him to continue,
“and what do i have to do with that?”
“are you kidding me?! you’re the person who had my keys the whole time!” seojun hisses, his voice raising which causes you to flinch lightly,
“my bike was parked in front of your house, remember? you gave my keys to that bastard!”
“i didn’t have your keys!” finally you defend yourself, slowly getting annoyed by his behavior.
“you did, i gave them to you last week!”
seojun’s face is still insanely close to yours.
“you did, but i gave them back to you.” you look into his eyes with confusion.
“what?” seojun’s expression reflects your own.
“i-i put them into your pocket. didn’t you notice?”
oh no. he absolutely didn’t.
“when did you do that?”
“the day after you gave them to me. i thought you would notice.” you mumble the last part quietly, suddenly feeling like it’s your fault.
precisely, you remember how you put seojun’s keys back in his jacket, which was hanging on his seat when he wasn’t around. taking the opportunity, you decided to quickly put them in there without having to face seojun for it, since you weren’t on good terms. 
all this time you wondered why the boy wouldn’t pick up his bike. it was standing there whole time, which made you believe that maybe he truly wanted to quit riding his motorcycle.
however, it turns out that he never noticed. how did the others find his keys, though? was it your fault? perhaps you should have simply handed them to him personally instead of being stubborn.
seojun sighs with frustration and runs his hand through his hair,
“how did they get them then?”
suddenly it all clicks. everything makes sense when you remember every detail from last night. with unease your eyes widen,
“the jacket you wore last night... it was the navy one, right?”
he thinks for a moment before nodding, waiting for you to continue.
“i put the keys in that one. maybe it slipped out while we were running?”
you glance around, not focusing on anything as you try to avoid his eyes. this doesn’t feel good at all.
a momentary look of discomfort crosses seojun’s face. he realizes that you’re possibly right and that he shouldn’t have accused you to do something like that. the fact that he already messed up by telling suho to stay away from you makes everything even worse. he feels guilty when he catches you looking around nervously. it’s not your fault.
right when he’s about to form words, two students run past him which causes him to stumble over his feet in shock. on the spur of the moment, his body is pressed on yours. at the sudden contact, you let out a small gasp when you notice that you’re stuck between him and the wall. one of his palms is still pressed against the wall behind you, while the other one holds on your shoulder to steady himself.
both of you look up at the same time, embarrassed by his sudden actions. when your eyes meet, your heart pounds against your ribs as if trying to reach thousand beats. it’s so intense that you internally pray for him not to hear it. his face is only a few centimetres away from yours which makes you freeze on spot. somehow you feel his breath on your cheek and you think you’re about to lose it. 
why are you so nervous suddenly?
why does his gaze make your heart beat so fast?
carefully, you study seojun’s face. his dark hair partly falls over his forehead, his eyes now relaxed, cheeks tinted a bright shade of pink.
in fact, seojun is blushing profusely. just like you, he’s taken aback by the closeness and can’t help but gaze into your eyes deeply. he too, feels strangely nervous, a little too nervous if truth be told.
after what seems like seconds, you can’t stand it anymore and forcefully hit his forehead with your head, which makes him stumble backwards.
probing the pained area, seojun winces, “what the hell?!”
“i-i told you i didn’t give them your keys!”, you decide to come up with that instead of showing how the boy effected you so easily,
“you always put the blame on me.” after mumbling that you rush back to the canteen in super speed, hoping for your poor heart to calm down.
seojun only watches you sprint away, unaware of how he made you feel. rubbing his forehead painfully, he shakes his head in order to get rid of his thoughts.
there’s no way. i should probably just see a doctor.
_
time passes quickly and finally the important day has come: the school trip. everyone from your grade was talking about the upcoming event the whole time, planing several games and activities. for you it seems nice too but since you’re avoiding seojun, which also automatically makes it harder to see chorong, you worry how you’re going to spend the whole time on your own. it’s a bummer that lee suho refused to join the trip. certainly, you attempted to convince your friend but unsuccessful. 
as soon as you arrive at the school gates, where everyone is already waiting with their suitcases, you feel uneasy. nearing the others, you concern about the fact that you’ll probably have to sit alone in the bus. yet, when you finally approach the others you spot suho standing next to soojin, sua and taehoon. instantly, a smile appears on your face and you greet them, adding that you’re happy for suho to join them. glancing around, it doesn’t take you long to see han seojun next to kim chorong. without looking at them for too long, you focus back on your other friend group with little uncertainty. 
one by one, students enter the bus after putting their suitcases into the bus trunk. for some reason you happen to be the last person to enter the bus. after putting your luggage into the trunk, you’re ready to go inside. yet, out of nowhere chorong appears in front of you with puppy eyes, begging for you to pack his snacks into your backpack, since his own is already full. not thinking about it too much, you agree and start placing them into your bag. chorong smiles with satisfaction and thanks you before his eyes check behind him. he winks at sua and gives her a sign after making sure you’re not paying attention to him.
sua then pushes her boyfriend and soojin inside when nobody is left, leaving chorong and you alone. eventually you manage to push in all the snacks into your bag. you’re surprised when you see that everyone is already in the bus and follow chorong inside as well. 
as soon as you enter, suho finds your eyes and waves at you, indicating that he saved you a seat next to him. happily, you nod and wait for the others in front of you to take their seats. 
you fail to notice chorong’s eyes widen when he stops in front of you, not allowing you to sit next to lee suho. sua understands the situation and slightly pushes kang soojin towards the empty seat next to suho. 
oh, well.
both of your friends exchange surprised looks. however, seconds later soojin smiles at the boy next to him, starting a conversation.
as a matter of fact, you feel upset. disappointed, you move on, eyes not leaving chorong’s back. who are you going to sit next to now? 
when the boy in front eventually arrives at the very back, you’re concerned. surprisingly, kim chorong takes the seat behind han seojun, leaving the last seat, which was next to seojun, for you.
han seojun doesn’t bother looking up, as he’s focused on his phone. clearing your throat, you request,
“chorong-ah, change seats with me.” 
“nah, i like this seat.” stubbornly, he crosses his arms across his chest, head leaning against the window with closed eyes.
the short conversation catches seojun’s attention and he looks up with curiosity. after taking a look at the filled seats his eyes land and you. he’s surprised when he notices that you have to take seat next to him.
letting out a quiet sigh, you give chorong one last glare before sitting next to seojun. this is either going to be really awkward or provoking.
of course, once again you don’t notice chorong peeking at the both of you before giving sua and taehoon a thumbs up, content that their plan worked successfully.
“are you sure this is a good idea?” taehoon whispers to his girlfriend,
“they look like they’ll throw hands at each other any moment.”
“ ah, don’t worry. they’ll make up sooner than you think.” sua takes a quick glimpse of you plugging in your earpods without exchanging any words with the boy next to you.
but sua was wrong.
half an hour already passes and you still haven’t spoken any word. although, there‘s a small desire of talking to you in seojun, he can‘t make himself form the right words. 
right when chorong is about to lose hope and fall asleep, something finally happens.
feeling tired from all the packing last night, you sense your eyelids getting heavier and you’re struggling to keep them open. nonetheless, you’re no longer able to do so and you fall asleep instantly.
out of the blue seojun feels your head resting on his shoulder. the boy is dumbstruck when his eyes widen, holding in his breath for a moment. his body shuts down and he doesn’t know how to react when his posture stiffens. besides that, he feels the skin on his shoulder tingle. 
seojun almost curses under his breath when his heart races once again. this time, there’s a fluttering in his stomach as well, causing him to go speechless. from the corner of his eye, he observes your expression. a slight frown forms on your face, hair covering parts of it, lips in a small pout. 
no matter what you do, you look so effortlessly... good. it doesn’t make a difference to him if you’re annoyed, confused, happy or simply tired. he always notices himself looking at you the same way, with adoring eyes. attempting to ignore it, he chose to tease you, not daring to ever show you. 
he knew he went to far and feels stupid for his actions. yet, why doesn’t he just apologize? perhaps he doesn’t want to accept the fact that you mean much more to him. perhaps he’s afraid he’ll never mean more to you.
still asleep, you unknowingly move your head closer to seojun’s chest, feeling more comfortable this way. after that, he feels your arm wrap around his torso, almost snuggling him.
the boy’s heart melts at the sight of you. although his heart feels like exploding, he doesn’t want to admit that he kinda enjoys the skin-ship with his you. right when he’s about to run his hand through your hair, the sound of a camera catches his attention.
he looks up to find sua taking a polaroid picture, chorong awing at the sight of his two friends sharing a moment.
“aw, you guys are so cute!” sua jumps up and down, while handing seojun the polaroid picture.
suddenly seojun gets aware of his surroundings and the situation he finds himself in. he blinks a few times before moving his shoulder purposely while coughing, making your head fall down in a swift move.
before it hits his lap, you open your eyes and rub them with a displeased expression,
“what happened?”, you ask with a low voice, completely clueless. 
“why- why do you fall asleep on my shoulder? that’s so uncomfortable. get a pillow or something!”
seojun stammers in the beginning, eyes not able to meet your tired ones. your friends sigh with annoyance and return to their seats, disappointed by seojun’s change in mood.
“sorry.” after rubbing your eyes, you steal a short glance at seojun. you’re slightly embarrassed and fix your hair while sitting up properly.
the boy only shrugs, quickly hiding the polaroid in the pocket inside of his jacket before you can see it.
seemingly, this trip is not going to be easy for han seojun.
little does he know, this was only the beginning of cupid chorong’s plan.
_
to be continued...
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Thank you @eldritch-and-tired for commissioning this lil’ /Reader piece of @megalommi‘s Sans, Baggs. I will ALWAYS be a simp for this sexyman. Enjoy!!
Tw: injections, unwilling hypnosis/mind control
...
You giggled.
The light was so pretty. Swirling, undulating, cyan and magenta warping and shifting in and out of one another in an endless hypnotising rhythm. It made you think of a funfair... spirals everywhere, from the tops of the stalls to the decorations on the rides, to the signs leading you around to those huge lollipops that tasted tooth-meltingly sweet. Happy memories, carefree, far away and non-solid but still wonderful. What were you doing? You couldn’t remember anything. You liked blue and purple, they were everywhere, all around you, such pretty colours. 
Pretty, pretty...
“... there we go. easy now.”
... You didn’t realise he was even there until he (somewhat cautiously?) spoke. Your senses were just colours. The voice was odd and a bit disembodied at first but slowly, slowly, you became aware of its source- a face hovering just over you. The awareness spread to your body, too... you were bent at an odd angle with your feet just barely lifted off the floor, your back flat on a rather uncomfortable table, gravity pulling your hair and cheeks. And he... he was just a few inches over you, pinning you by one of your wrists.
...
A tight and tense, cutting smile, clear signs of stress around his face and shoulders making it obvious that this was the smile of a man on the edge and not one of any particular joy. Deep sockets, so wide they looked borderline painful, glaring down at you with so much intensity...
... You could feel his body heat. And his breath against your face. Your heartbeat, your slightly itchy nose, how tight he was holding your wrist.
“... Mh... Huh?” You said, ever-so articulately, vision spinning in the same direction as the swirls emanating from his left socket. A similar way to how the world rocked when you were dizzy... except for you, it never righted itself. It just kept spinning and spinning and spinning. Everything was so bright, as you fell under a pleasant fuzzy sensation burrowed into your chest and mind, blanketing your thoughts as if you were just in the middle of a nice dream where nothing much mattered.
“shh...” 
When he gently closed his gloved fingers around something you had gripped in your pinned hand, you put up no fuss, loosening your hold and allowing him to take it... when did you pick up a scalpel? What an odd thing to have. The back of your head hurt and your knuckles felt the telltale aches of having been tense a few moments ago, even though they were now just an unwound coil like the rest of you.
... Dr. Baggs let out a long slow, breath. You could feel it against your nose and neck, he was that close... his mouth open barely a crack, the magenta hue of his tongue glinting against his fangs. 
“... alright.” He said, voice silky, gentle on your thrumming ears and head, sockets easing around the edges as he calmed down. The bluish shadows of sleep deprivation under them became more apparent as the tension in the room, face and posture waned. “that’s better.”
... Yeah. You thought, relaxed and calm. It is.
... He gave you the bare minimum of personal space, leaning back and helping you to sit, lifting you with the perfect combination of gentle but firm as if he knew you’d immediately feel so dizzy when you became upright. Your hands moved up and held onto his shoulders to steady yourself- the fabric of his lab coat was surprisingly soft, it was very nice to touch. 
... He was so close. Supportive but strict hands on your elbows, your knees on either side of him, he smelled like... the artificial flavouring they added candy that just wasn’t quite natural. And a specific, scented brand of antiseptic; clean and sterile and prepared.
“... well.” He hummed, reaching out of sight for something with one hand. Your forehead would bump his collarbone if you leant forward any more. His voice was so soothing and calming, especially since you were only a few inches from his clavicle... you were getting pretty close to shutting your eyes at this point, but a prick in your arm kept you from completely nodding off- you barely noticed it, too busy studying the aesthetically pleasing purple trim to his coat and enjoying the funny fuzzy sensation in your chest and temples. Oh, he suddenly had a full syringe in his hand that he was putting a cap on... where did he get that? 
“i knew from the start you’d be uncooperative, but... not that kind of uncooperative.”
He held something up to your face. You opened your mouth, (wait, why am I opening my mouth...) and he quickly placed it on your tongue. You swallowed, again, without knowing why... it was like your body was following a list of instructions that you couldn’t see or hear. Someone else had taken the wheel; tugging the right strings to make the right parts of you move when they were needed. 
... You didn’t think about it much. No panic, no confusion, no considering the implications. The thoughts were disconnected... just ships in the night, sailing by your muffled brain. All you could really think about was how whatever he’d given you was very strange and bitter and ew, you cringed, an odd acrid taste lingering in the back of your throat.
... Another prick in your arm. That’s weird, he keeps pricking me. Oh well. This time, you looked just in time to see him removing a now-empty syringe; he wiped where he’d poked your forearm with something very cold, then placed a little circular red band-aid over it.
...
There were six other band-aids on that forearm. Two green, three navy, one black... and now the red one.
Hm... I feel like I should be alarmed by that...
Again, all you could think about was how nice you felt right now. Dizzy, warm, safe. Like you’d had a little too much to drink, but now you were laying out in the sun with your friends... I miss the sun...
“most of my ‘patients’ are at least... consistent.” Baggs hummed, continuining to hold you carefully by the elbows, predicting your post-jab swaying. He didn’t seem to realise he was talking aloud, just a scientist observing his experiment, and you weren’t really paying enough attention to what he was actually saying- too many words to process, boooring. “uncooperative awake, uncooperative under. you’re always displaying aggression toward me... and yet as soon as you have no control, there’s an obediency so immediate it’s borderline subconscious. rather fascinating.”
Instead, you...
“... Sexy voice.”
...
...
“... what?” 
Apparently, that was enough to finally break him out of his thoughts. You glanced up at Baggs’ face, still only a few inches away, you kept forgetting where things were around you... the cushion around your soul never wavered but for a moment there was a little blip in the swirls. A slight interruption.
“Mmmhm.”
...
... His expression sort of... well, ‘melted’ was the wrong word. It was more akin to the sun peeking out from between two clouds. The detached, observational, scientific air to him thinned and began to evaporate... revealing something a little more warm.
The razor and unfriendly edges of his smile were rounding into something organic. Perhaps even, daresay, resembling forward. 
“my.” He purred. “how forward of you.”
“S’very nice. Very smooth...” Your tongue felt... eh. And your arm, where he’d poked you, was starting to itch. “And you have a nice face too... handsome man. I think so.”
...
His smile started growing even more, and he leaned back an inch or two as if to look at all of you and make sure you were really the same person he’d brought into this examination room less than an hour ago. “... oh really?”
“Yeah...” ... Your hands had been just holding onto his coat... but, spurred on by your sudden drunken confidence, you properly looped them around his neck.
... He blinked, but he only let himself appear taken aback for a moment or two. Despite how ominously his magenta eyelights glowed in his dark, shadowed sockets... you could tell he was enjoying himself, and this sudden turn of events. “i’m flattered.”
You laid your head on his chest. It was getting kinda hard to stay upright. 
... Your nose scrunched.
“Funky smell, though.”
That was enough to get an actual laugh out of him- albeit shortlived, his skull cocking like a curious mirthful bird. “are you... genuinely telling me that i smell, darling?”
“Yeah. Because it’s true. You’re gremlin.”
 “i’m... gremlin?”
“Mhm.”
“stars. i wish i could tell pap about this.”
Your body shifted, enough to make you lightly squeak- things were spinning so much that it took you a minute to realise Baggs had picked you up, an arm hooked under your legs and another around your back.
“you’re all done for the day, pet.” His eyelights had become a thrumming, almost amethyst colour as he looked at you, a far gentler shade of purple than his previous headache-inducing magenta. You weren’t sure what’d caused that but you weren’t complaining. You weren’t sure what’d caused him to carry you either, considering he usually just brought someone to collect his ‘patients’ for him... but, again, not complaining. “it’s time to get back to your room.”
“I feel funny.” You mumbled.
“that’s normal.”
He started walking. The halls all looked the same, as he moved through them, blending into one another... white and sterile, a few doors dotted inbetween if you were lucky but mostly just the exact same tiles and patterns and lack of anything that would clue you into the fact that people had actually (at some point) existed in this area. 
“Hm... is this where you work...?”
A little chuckle. He was sounding further and further away. “yes. this is my job, dear.”
“It’s so g... ug-ly.”
“oh? you think so?” Baggs’ tone had become... light? Perhaps a little teasing. 
“Jus... put up some nice posters, or something.” Your head was so heavy. Since when was it this heavy? You had to rest it against his chest, feeling that nice fabric against your cheek, hearing an equally nice humming sound from inside his ribcage. “Paint the walls. It’s so... white. Clini... ...clinicic... Calic...” 
“clinical?”
“... Yeah.Tthat.”
A gloved phalange touched your arm. It was probably an attempt at a comforting gesture- stroking the skin. “good to know. i’ll make sure to pass that eloquent advice along to the decorating team.”
“Good.”
He brought you to a cell-like room. It was... vaguely familiar? A bed with one pillow, thin white sheets... some strange posters and a window with bars over it. You felt like you’d spent a long time in there, but it was impossible to think straight enough to actually muster up any memories.
Baggs laid you down on the bed, slowly, handling you like you’d fall apart at any moment. You made a little noise- it wasn’t a very soft bed... but it was good enough. And your body felt so strange and tired that any soft surface honestly was nice enough to lay down on forever.
“comfy?” He asked. Since when did he inquire if you were comfy?
“M... no. S’whatever.”
...
You peeked at him, crouched by your bed... and you reached out, pressing your inexplicably heavy finger against the top of his nasal cavity in a booping motion. You mumbled a little victorious “Silly skeleton.” 
...
He took your hand in his gloved one, gently, before it could go limp and flop down. You couldn’t really make out his expression at this point.
“don’t tell the other subjects...” He murmured... he sounded amused, at least. “but i think you’ve become my favourite.”
“Course.” You shut your eyes. “I’m... m’amazing.”
“... yes. course.” 
A feeling, like a kiss on your hand, before he placed it by your side.
“... go to sleep.”
...
And just like that, your body obeyed him before your head could even process what he’d said, and you were asleep.
344 notes · View notes
merakiui · 3 years
Note
What do you think of the concept of yan!xiao, childe venti trapping their darling in a teapot?
I feel like they would be less restrictive since the darling wouldn't necessarily be able to escape most likely, so they wouldn't worry about restraint much. Esp in Ventis case...he is the God of freedom so while his darling isn't exactly 'free' they're still kinda free in a way that they have their own world to be free in?
Xiao would probably be somewhat restricted, but only just keep them in the house because he probably wouldn't trust them to be by themselves yet--he figures they may try to run off and hide from him or something
Childe would probably let them try to "escape" on purpose and would be absolutely amused when his darling finds out they wouldn't be able to leave
(cw: yandere, captivity, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, mention of children and implied stockholm syndrome for childe’s part)
Venti doesn't exactly lie to you, but he does trick you. He's aware that it's not the nicest thing to do and that it's not exactly captivity if you're living in a world that resembles the one outside. Only this pocket-sized world is nicer and happier and there aren't any people to get in the way. He tells you about it when you're vulnerable. Maybe you're drunk or you're crying your eyes out because something horrible happened. Either way, you're not in the right state of mind when you make the comment: "I wish I could live in my own ideal world for just one day." And this is great news for Venti because it makes relocation so much easier.
He shows you the teapot and explains it briefly, leaving out certain details. It's better if you don't know everything about how the teapot works. After all, ignorance is bliss. Venti tells you how to get in, but he doesn't tell you how to get out. And the way he describes it makes it sound so tempting—as if living inside this teapot for a bit will cure whatever's bothering you. You decide it wouldn't hurt to spend a day or two inside the teapot to see the little world Venti holds in the palms of his hands.
It's a lot of fun at first. You and Venti glide from the top of the mountains in Emerald Peak, he sings melodious ballads as you look up at the sky, and the two of you play hide-and-seek inside of the house, playfully popping out of rooms and laughing when you’re caught. Eventually the charm wears off and you start to yearn for the outside world. It’s not the same in the teapot. As pretty and peaceful as it may be, it still feels so empty. And when you bring it up to Venti he finds small ways to change the subject. It probably plays out like this:
“Venti, I’d like to go home now.”
“But we were just about to play another round of hide-and-seek! Come on! Don’t be a spoilsport! One more round? Then we’ll leave.”
Or he’ll tell you that you’re already home. There’s always a big smile on his face when he says stuff like that. He’s happy that he gets to spend so much time with you and no one can interfere. But it does get annoying when you start to beg for the old world. Your pleas to leave will fall upon his deaf ears. Venti does feel a little bad when you start to sulk, but his sympathy is short-lived. Let’s not forget that you were the one who wanted this. You wanted to live in your ‘ideal world.’ And isn’t this ideal?
As an adeptus, Xiao is aware of Sub-Space Creation and the effort it takes to construct a presentable teapot. He’s been working hard on his ever since you came into his life. Before he knew you he didn’t have a reason to put effort into it because he stays at Wangshu Inn, but after he met you he started working a lot harder. He tries to make the teapot as comfortable as possible. You mentioned you like dogs or cats in passing? You can find a few in the teapot. You said you like berry bushes and flower fields? There’s a bunch in his teapot. He probably has a nearly perfect model of your room in there as well. Before he brings you into the teapot, he’ll often sit in that room and make sure everything replicates the original, down to the bed frame and the fabric used for the pillow case.
He’ll put some of your things in it just so it feels more personal. Xiao knows he’s stealing from you whenever he does this, but it’s not like you ever noticed anything was missing. Besides, it’s all going in the teapot anyways. You won’t even need your real room or mortal possessions anymore. Xiao is actually quite proud of the teapot and manages to fool himself into thinking you’ll like it, too. And you do (for the first few days, that is). He’s very forward with his question of whether or not you’d like to see his teapot. And you eagerly nod because the two of you are friends and Xiao wants to show you something he made and he looks a little…excited? There’s definitely light in his eyes when he gets your agreement to view the inside of his teapot.
Once you’re inside, you’re genuinely surprised. It’s far more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. The Floating Abode is a really gorgeous landscape. You’re so caught up in looking at the sunset and the flowers and the animals that roam the teapot that you aren’t aware of the horrors that lie just beyond. You’ll find the room that resembles yours in no time and it’s really creepy. As much as you try to tell yourself that Xiao means well and wouldn’t actually do something like this on purpose, it’s hard to ignore the fact that everything is practically identical to your room. It’s so, so strange. You want to ignore it, but you just can’t. It’s so obvious.
It’s definitely creepy, but you don’t have the heart to tell him.
You hold your tongue because you don’t want to hurt his feelings. You’re really the only close friend he has, so you’d feel bad if you insulted his interior decorating skills. Xiao’s pleased to hear that you like it so much. Praise falls from your lips like a waterfall and it gives him a sense of relief. He’s so happy that you like it and since you’re okay with it it’ll be fine if you live here. When he tells you that, your brain freezes and you’re not sure how to respond.
“Live here? Like…permanently?”
And to your shock he nods.
Xiao is far less lenient than Venti. With Venti everything feels like eternal, childish fun with the idea of freedom sprinkled in. But with Xiao it’s definitely a harsher form of captivity. You aren’t allowed outside because he’s worried you might fall off of the bridges that connect the floating islands or you might try to find your way out of the teapot. So you’re confined to the mansion. It’s got everything you could ever need and the interior design matches that of your home perfectly. Just treat it like it’s your own home and it won’t be so bad. You definitely try to see the good in this situation because you care about Xiao, but it’s so hard when he’s keeping you here like you’re just another addition to his teapot.
It’s miserable, but at least you can count on him to visit you every single day.
Childe is very receptive to the idea of owning his own little world in a small teapot. Maybe he was holding you captive before he came upon the teapot and while you’re sleeping he relocates you. You don’t expect to wake up in a new location, but you assume you’re still somewhere in Liyue. Childe finds it cute that you’re so startled, clearly confused with the change in scenery. And when you glance at the surroundings on the Cool Isle, it feels like you might have a chance. Childe seems to think so because he waves you off, telling you with the sincerest voice that you’re ‘free to go.’
You don’t need to be told twice and so you run because you’re invigorated. You can leave and he’s not coming after you. Childe doesn’t even raise his bow in warning. You’re actually leaving him and he’s letting you! But it feels too good to be true. A day passes and you learn that there’s no one else to help you. So you find an empty shack on the shoreline and you hide in it because survival is the only thing you know right now. And the day goes by, the night comes, and morning makes its arrival. You’re still safe. He hasn’t found you.
And it really feels like you can make it out of this. Even if there’s no one around, you can still find something to help you. You’d take anything at this point. By the end of the week, you’re losing sight of your goal and you really just want to head back to the mansion and nap on a comfortable bed. You’ve been catching the crabs and the fish and doing what you can to start a long-lasting fire. When Childe finds you, you’re so exhausted from running and hiding that you collapse into his arms. And he smiles so sweetly while he tells you something that shatters your entire world.
“You did well, comrade, but this isn’t Liyue. You have no need to run.”
It’s not even Teyvat. It’s another world entirely—one existing solely within a teapot. And everything comes crashing down when you realize just how impossible that makes any escape attempts. No human contact. No energy or life that comes from meeting with friends and seeing family. It truly does feel like you and he are the only people in this world.
Childe knows that you’ll adjust to this new world whether you like it or not. It was fun to toy with you in the beginning (and it still is) when you didn’t realize this was the world inside the teapot. But now he just wants to settle into a comfortable life. He takes every chance he has to visit you and eventually you’ll find yourself succumbing to the relaxing pleasures of domestic life. You learn how to cook delicious meals with Childe’s help, you collect seashells on the shore to cure your boredom, and you’ll take care of any chores or housework. It warms Childe’s heart to see you accepting this life.
Maybe the two of you can start a family. Maybe he should get a few pets to liven up the house. It’s not like you can get away from him while inside the teapot, so it’s a recipe for anything to happen. And you’ve come to learn that what happens in the teapot stays in the teapot.
298 notes · View notes
bloody-bee-tea · 3 years
Text
Sweat
Jiang Cheng knows that it’s a risky move to show up to this office party with Nie Mingjue in tow, but then again it’s not like he cares. Much.
He had tried to introduce Nie Mingjue to his parents countless times, but they always shot him down, citing that they don’t have time for things like this. So Jiang Cheng never got to introduce them.
But the invitation to the party had said he could bring a plus one. It didn’t specify any further than this and Jiang Cheng had waved the invitation at Nie Mingjue, who of course hadn’t gotten one of his own.
Jiang Fengmian wanted to cut a deal with Jin Corp. and everyone knew that Jin Guangshan didn’t make deals when the Nies were involved. So Nie Security hadn’t gotten an invitation at all.
Jiang Cheng is aware that his father will be furious with him for bringing Nie Mingjue but he will be going in his capacity as Jiang Cheng’s boyfriend. It won’t be work related. And it isn’t either of their fault if Jiang Fengmian wants to make a deal with the slimiest bastard in their business.
Jiang Cheng is going to give his dad a metaphorical fuck you by bringing Nie Mingjue.
At least that had been the theory. Now that they are actually at the party, Jiang Cheng is getting pretty damn nervous again, sweat clinging to his temples and back.
“It’ll be alright,” Nie Mingjue whispers and pulls him close with a hand on his hip. “I’m right here.”
Jiang Cheng doesn’t say that that is part of the problem and instead leans into the contact. He has to admit that it does feel pretty nice to not be alone for once.
“Until someone steals you away and then where will I be?” Jiang Cheng grumbles, mostly just to be contrary, because he does feel better this close to Nie Mingjue.
“I hope you’ll be on your way to save me,” Nie Mingjue gives back and brushes a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s temple. “Since work is not what I’m here for. Look, there’s Wei Wuxian,” he then tries to distract Jiang Cheng and he has to admit that it works reasonably well.
Wei Wuxian drags Lan Wangji over to them as well and Jiang Cheng is sure that Lan Xichen is mingling somewhere, too, so there are at least four friendly faces around. Five, if you count Jin Zixuan and with how hard he’s trying lately with Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng is inclined to count him.
Jiang Cheng tries to follow along with Wei Wuxian’s excited chatter about his newest project, but his nerves are getting the better of him once he catches sight of Jiang Fengmian and so most what Wei Wuxian says flies right over Jiang Cheng’s head.
“Uh-oh, here he comes,” Nie Mingjue mutters and steps that little bit closer to Jiang Cheng, making sure that he knows he’s there and he’s supporting him.
Wei Wuxian throws a wide-eyed look over his shoulder before he turns the same wide eyes on Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng sighs.
“Go,” he tells him, secretly a little bit relieved that Wei Wuxian wants to remove himself from this situation and Wei Wuxian is gone faster than Jiang Cheng can blink.
Speaking to Jiang Fengmian is never pleasant, but it’s always worse when Wei Wuxian is present. It seem like the sheer existence of Wei Wuxian makes Jiang Fengmian forget that Jiang Cheng even exists and no matter how much time passes or how many therapy sessions Jiang Cheng goes to, it never stops hurting.
Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to the small of Jiang Cheng’s back and presses another kiss to his temple where anyone can see and Jiang Cheng loves him for how little Nie Mingjue minds all that family drama that comes with dating him.
It had been one of his big worries when they started dating, but Nie Mingjue seemingly never cared beyond hating how it always hurt Jiang Cheng and that more than anything helped Jiang Cheng to seek out help and to realize that this isn’t normal.
It isn’t normal how he tenses more and more the closer his father gets. It isn’t normal how his heart starts to beat faster when Jiang Fengmian’s eyes fall on him. And it’s certainly not normal how Jiang Cheng starts to shake when clear displeasure clouds over Jiang Fengmian’s face.
“What is the meaning of this?” he asks once he reached them and he’s not even looking at Jiang Cheng anymore.
All of Jiang Fengmian’s attention is on Nie Mingjue.
“What a surprise to see here, Mingjue,” he says and Nie Mingjue tenses with the address.
Jiang Cheng knows that Nie Mingjue hates how overly familiar Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan get whenever they talk to him and so he leans just a little bit more back into Nie Mingjue’s hand.
“Fengmian,” Nie Mingjue gives back, his voice pleasant, though his jaw is clenched. “I’m here with Wanyin.”
“Wanyin,” Jiang Fengmian repeats and turns to look at Jiang Cheng as if this was the first time he noticed him next to Nie Mingjue. “You should be mingling with the Jins.”
“I should be showing my boyfriend around,” Jiang Cheng gives back, hating how there’s the tiniest shake to his voice.
“Your boyfriend,” Jiang Fengmian repeats and looks back at Nie Mingjue. “You’re colluding with the Nies?”
“I am dating a Nie,” Jiang Cheng says, forcing himself to remain calm and collected. “Which you would know if you had ever taken the time to meet my boyfriend.”
“Ah, you know how it is,” Jiang Fengmian says and Jiang Cheng hates that tone of voice, especially when it’s aimed at him. “I am a busy man and who knows how long this fling of yours will last. There’s no need to introduce us when this is bound to end sooner rather than later. I mean, Mingjue is a busy man himself. You shouldn’t hog his attention.”
It’s a reprimand that Jiang Cheng has heard several times before, in different contexts, but it still cuts him deeply. Deeply enough that he can’t even find his voice and it only worsens his mood, because he should be able to defend his boyfriend and their relationship from his own father.
“Enough about this now,” Jiang Fengmian decides as if Jiang Cheng had actually managed to say anything. “Mingjue, about that contract—” Jiang Fengmian says, his attention completely on Nie Mingjue already, and Jiang Cheng has to bite back some tears.
“I am not here for work,” Nie Mingjue bites out and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “I am here as a plus one to my boyfriend. If you really do want to talk about the contract, you should make an appointment with my secretary.”
Jiang Fengmian blinks, clearly surprised by Nie Mingjue’s firm rebuke and Nie Mingjue takes that opportunity to drag Jiang Cheng away from him.
“I know he’s your dad, but I seriously hate him,” Nie Mingjue mutters once they are out of earshot and Jiang Cheng laughs wetly.
He hates his dad sometimes, too, but he can’t bring himself to say that.
“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Jiang Cheng says, slinging his arms around Nie Mingjue’s middle and just breathing for a few moments.
“Even though I just made it more difficult for you?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, but he squeezes Jiang Cheng back.
“He would have found something to criticise me over anyway,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “It’s easier to endure when you’re there.”
“I’m not leaving you out of my sight tonight,” Nie Mingjue promises him and Jiang Cheng is just about to breathe in relief when the severe clicking of heels announces the arrival of Yu Ziyuan.
“Oh, fuck,” Jiang Cheng whispers and moves away from Nie Mingjue only to come face to face with his clearly disapproving mother.
“Is this how we make business deals now? Whoring yourself out?” she asks, clearly not caring at all who hears her and Jiang Cheng is quick to shake his head.
“Mother, this is my boyfriend, Nie Mingjue. We’ve been dating for a while,” he rushes out, hopes to salvage this situation somehow and he has to admit that he wasn’t prepared for the surprised look on her face.
“Boyfriend,” she repeats. “The boyfriend you have been trying to introduce to us several times?”
Ah, so at least she noticed his attempts.
“Yes,” Jiang Cheng meekly gives back and Nie Mingjue holds his hand out.
“Nie Mingjue, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, finally,” he says with a small smile and Yu Ziyuan only hesitates a second before she takes his hand.
“I wasn’t aware my son was dating you,” she says and Jiang Cheng flinches.
He had told her, several times actually, but of course she didn’t listen to him. She listens more to him than Jiang Fengmian, but it is still not a lot.
“I am,” Jiang Cheng says, trying to sound surer than he feels, and he can’t read the glint in his mother’s eyes at all.
There is a very long silence before Yu Ziyuan speaks again.
“If you hurt him, I will ruin you,” she says and then turns around to leave in the same manner in which she arrived.
“Was she talking to me or to you?” Jiang Cheng asks, once his mother vanishes from his sight and Nie Mingjue sighs.
“I think she actually meant me,” he gives back and then pulls Jiang Cheng into a kiss. “That actually went better than expected,” he mumbles against Jiang Cheng’s lips and Jiang Cheng has to agree.
He has anticipated his father’s disinterest in his boyfriend, so even while that had still hurt, it wasn’t unexpected. But his mother is always a little bit of a wild card and Jiang Cheng never knows what to expect with her.
“Come on, after this I need something to drink,” Nie Mingjue says once they part and Jiang Cheng couldn’t agree more.
They mingle for a bit afterwards, speaking to Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, and even Jin Zixuan for a while before they retreat back into a relatively quiet corner.
“This wasn’t so bad so far,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and leans against the wall. “Being your arm candy certainly has its perks.”
“Like what?” Jiang Cheng snorts but he has to admit that having Nie Mingjue here did wonders to relax him.
“Like being able to simply walk away if someone starts to talk business to me,” Nie Mingjue gives back and threads their fingers together. “And I get to admire you all evening, so that’s a definite plus.”
“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng hisses, but he can already feel how he turns red.
“Never,” Nie Mingjue whispers and kisses Jiang Cheng’s burning cheek.
“You’re an idiot,” Jiang Cheng tells him, aiming for stern but of course he softens immediately when Nie Mingjue looks expectantly at him. “And I love you.”
“I love you, too,” is the immediate response he gets and Jiang Cheng didn’t know how nice it was to never having to wonder or wait for those words.
Nie Mingjue always makes very sure that Jiang Cheng knows just how much he’s loved.
“What the fuck is your father’s problem?” Nie Mingjue mutters suddenly, breaking Jiang Cheng out of his pleasant thoughts and he leans around Nie Mingjue to see better.
“Fuck, he had something to drink,” Jiang Cheng whispers under his breath, because Jiang Fengmian is never a pleasant person to be around—at least not if you are name Jiang Cheng—but it only ever gets worse when he had something to drink.
“I’ve got this,” Nie Mingjue decides and hands Jiang Cheng his empty glass. “Get me some more, would you?”
Jiang Cheng works his jaw a few times, but when Nie Mingjue nudges him into the opposite direction of his father he sighs. “Fine.”
Nie Mingjue gives him a winning smile before he turns around to meet Jiang Fengmian halfway and Jiang Cheng can’t help it. He knows that no matter what’s going to happen it will hurt him, but he simply has to know.
He doesn’t leave to get them new drinks.
“Mingjue, what a nice surprise,” Jiang Fengmian says, just a tad too loudly and Jiang Cheng winces. “What brings you here?”
“We already talked today,” Nie Mingjue reminds him, his hands clenching at his side.
“Oh, did we? Remind me again, then,” Jiang Fengmian says, his voice now a little bit more appropriate and he leans into Nie Mingjue’s space. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here with your son. You know, because we’re dating?” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng knows what’s going to happen a split second before his father opens his mouth.
It feels like someone reached inside his chest and tore his heart out.
“Wei Wuxian? I thought he is with that Lan boy?” Jiang Fengmian says and Jiang Cheng sees how Nie Mingjue freezes.
Jiang Cheng has trouble breathing himself, but he keeps his eyes fixed on Nie Mingjue, because it’s the only safe place to look at right now.
“You piece of shit,” Nie Mingjue mutters, and before Jiang Cheng or anyone else can react, he moves.
Between one blink an the next Jiang Fengmian is on the ground, clearly knocked out cold, and Nie Mingjue is shaking out his hand as he turns around and looks for Jiang Cheng.
“Fuck, you heard,” are the first words out of Nie Mingjue’s mouth, before he rushes up to Jiang Cheng to crush him to his chest.
“You punched him,” Jiang Cheng mutters, blinking several times, because it doesn’t make sense.
His father is in on the ground and people are staring at them, but it doesn’t make sense.
“Of course I did!”
“You just punched him,” Jiang Cheng repeats and it’s only the arrival of his mother that prevents him from breaking down into hysterical laughter.
“What is going on here? Wanyin, an explanation!”
“Your husband forgot who his actual son is,” Nie Mingjue hisses at her, not letting go of Jiang Cheng and clearly not going to apologize for his actions.
“Ma’am, do you want us to call the police?” a security guard suddenly asks and Jiang Cheng tenses in Nie Mingjue’s arms.
He will not allow Nie Mingjue to get punished for this.
Jiang Cheng is about to tell his mother that when she waves them away.
“That won’t be necessary,” she says. “I think it was deserved,” she then adds, much more quietly, before she turns to the room at large. “It seems like my dear husband had a little bit too much to drink and he slipped in a rather unfortunate way,” she calls out. “Please don’t be worried and continue to enjoy the party.”
Jiang Cheng stares at her, his mouth open and it’s only when she turns back around to him and Nie Mingjue that he gets a little bit of control back.
“I think you should leave now,” she says, and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure she ever heard her sound so soft. “Well done,” she adds and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm before she goes to deal with the situation at large.
“What the hell just happened,” Jiang Cheng mutters, but he allows Nie Mingjue to pull him away from his father and from this party.
It’s only when the cold night air hits him that he starts to realize what just happened.
“You punched my father because he was an asshole to me,” Jiang Cheng whispers and Nie Mingjue grimaces.
“Well. I would do it again,” he declares as if Jiang Cheng was about to tell him to not do that again. “He deserved it.”
“He did,” Jiang Cheng agrees and then steps close to Nie Mingjue. “You punched my father for me,” he repeats and Nie Mingjue frowns.
“I can’t tell if you’re angry right now,” Nie Mingjue admits, but he puts his hands on Jiang Cheng’s hips.
“I am in absolute awe of you and I love you so much,” Jiang Cheng tells him and leans in for a biting kiss. “And I think you should take me home now.”
“Oh, so that’s how it is? Me punching your father is doing it for you?” Nie Mingjue teases him, but he starts dragging him towards their car.
“Hell, yes,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, because no one has taken such a stance for him.
“Good to know,” Nie Mingjue says. “But I’d still rather not make it a habit.”
“I think the memory will serve me well, too,” Jiang Cheng says and before Nie Mingjue can get into the car, Jiang Cheng crowds him against the side of it, tucking his face into his neck. “Seriously, thank you.”
“My heart, I love you and no one gets to behave like that when it comes to you,” Nie Mingjue says and puts his arms around Jiang Cheng. “No thanks needed.”
“Oh, I’m gonna thank you,” Jiang Cheng says with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrow and Nie Mingjue barks out a laugh.
“Alright,” he says and then they scramble into the car.
It’s a quiet ride home, despite everything, but Jiang Cheng keeps a hold of Nie Mingjue’s hand and he has to admit that he has never felt so loved before.
And he will make sure Nie Mingjue knows how much he appreciates his actions.
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mercy-burning · 3 years
Text
Second Nature
Part of Mercy’s 1k Celebration: A collection of Spencer Reid x Reader requests to celebrate 1,000 followers.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer and Reader share some realizations after one of them has been kidnapped. Category: FLUFF + ADDITIONAL SMUT ENDING (18+) Warnings: Language, brief mentions of kidnapping and injury, bruising, sex (penetrative sex, protected sex, dirty talk, lowkey hand kink—i’m not sorry) Word Count: 6.1k
Full Request: “...Congratulations on your 1k! I have  request for your celebration, if possible. Spencer/Fem Reader. Post prison Spencer, instead of him being taken by the cult, the reader is, making hi realize that she’s Love of life and they get together. Smut,preferred, if possible. Thank you.” — @dreatine 
NOTE: I had a little conversation with @ssa-m-187 about a post which discussed that trope where Person A caresses Person B’s cheek, and then Person A leans into their touch and holds their arm to keep them there for comfort.. I mentioned that I might add it into one of my requests, and this is where it ended up! 😂❤
I also decided to add an alternate/additional smut ending in case anyone wanted only the fluff. It will be clearly marked when the smut starts if you choose not to read it!
MASTERLIST | 1K MASTERLIST
***
Nothing bad ever happened to her. Spencer wished that was an exaggeration but it wasn't. In all the years he'd known Y/N, she was never kidnapped, no one she loved ever got kidnapped, and she never even got sick. Her moods were always visibly happy, no one had ever seen her with so much as a sprained ankle, and even bad hair days always seemed to escape her grasp.
So naturally, when she got taken by Ben's Believers, it came as no shock that Spencer was losing his mind.
Everyone kept telling him that they'd get her back, and that they all knew what to do, but it didn't stop the sinking feeling that weighed his heart down, far away from the surface where she was safe and waiting for him.
Guess it's safe to say, this whole situation stirred up some feelings he hadn't even known existed.
The first thing that came to his mind, aside from the initial shock of her being gone, was the first moment they met.
Y/N and Ashley Seaver had both been added to the team around the same time, and after losing Emily, the three of them had practically become inseparable. But that first meeting, the very second he laid eyes on her, it was something purely magical.
She was trying to open a jar of pickles in the break room, breathy and aggravated curses spilling from her mouth as if she were a sailor.
"Do you need any help?" Spencer asked, not intending to scare her.
But alas, she jumped, dropping the jar of pickles and causing it to shatter everywhere. "Shit!"
He offered to help clean it up, and she accepted, sighing about how everything she had was going to smell like pickles for at least a week. And once everything was picked up, she grabbed a pickle that had landed on the counter and took a bite, promptly saying, "Well, at least I got it open," with a mouth-full of pickle. "Thanks for scaring me, bud."
It was amusing to say the least.
And every time they'd gone out for food since then, Spencer made sure to order something with a pickle every time, just so he could offer it to her and hear her laugh about that day. Every time, she mirrored that moment, taking a bite and saying, "Thanks, bud."
Of course, back then he hadn't realized he did it because he liked her. He just thought it was nice to see her smile, to hear her laugh. That's what friends did, right? Made each other laugh?
That's what kept him going as they searched high and low for answers to get her back. Her laugh. It was there, replaying on a loop in his brain as if he could ever forget it.
And when he got her back, he vowed to make sure he made her laugh for the rest of time.
When they knew where to find Y/N, Spencer made it his mission to be the one who got her out of there. He wanted to be the one she saw when she was being rescued. He wanted to be the one who made sure she was finally safe again and out of harm's way.
And most importantly he wanted to tell her that he loved her. And he didn't want to spend another day without being next to her.
But first he had to get her out of there.
The second he saw her, it was like everything moved in slow motion. She was strapped to some type of mechanism that kept her hands at her sides and her head facing forward. And despite the fact that she'd never been held hostage, she looked very calm. She looked like exactly what the cult wanted her to be: a sacrifice.
It made Spencer's stomach churn. And it felt even worse when they moved in. Because everyone was getting down, and the cult leader jumped for Y/N, striking to kill.
The gunshot stunned him. He stopped in his tracks, hoping and praying that she wouldn't be hurt, and for one final time before he actually moved, he replayed her laugh in his mind. He briefly held on to the image of Y/N smiling at him without a care in the world before he inevitably saw her face to face for the first time in days, most likely without said smile.
But of course, the second it was safe and he ran to her side, she looked up at him and smiled anyway.
As Emily got the final restraints off of her, Spencer took a huge sigh of relief and welcomed Y/N into his embrace.
"Hey, bud," she breathed into his neck, letting him squeeze her tightly. He could practically feel her smile burning into his skin, tattooing itself there for all the world to see, and he squeezed her tighter, thinking of how he wouldn't have it any other way.
They clung to one another the whole plane ride home, curled up into each other and falling asleep after all the stress they'd been under. And it was no surprise to anyone that they even held hands while they did.
Y/N dreamt of him the entire time.
Specifically, she was remembering the day she almost quit. It would have surprised anyone to know she'd felt that way considering she never let her bad days show. But in those particular few months, she had really missed her family—and Ashley,—the cases were getting more and more stressful, and it all seemed to really take a toll on her emotionally.
But that one fateful day, she walked into the round table room, expecting to find no one since she always showed up early, and instead she found Spencer with a large wicker basket.
"What are you doing here so early?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.
He smiled shyly. "Oh, um... I know your birthday was last week, and I feel bad I missed it since I was visiting my mom, so... I wanted to celebrate with you when we had a little bit of time."
He handed her the basket, and she marveled at all its contents, ranging from a few of her favorite books in different copies she hadn't owned, an array of her favorite candies, and most exciting, a jar of pickles.
"Oh, before you break the jar, I have something else for you," he said with a small laugh, pulling something out of his jacket pocket. "I've read that these are good for helping you open jars, and I even got myself one because we all know you're way stronger than me, so if you can't open a jar of pickles, I probably couldn't either..."
She would never know this, but in that moment he was kicking himself for being so awkward, even though the two of them had been friends for years. And he'd never know, but she hadn't even recognized it as awkward. She was incredibly thankful and endeared by his thinking of her, and it was the one thing that made her realize she could never quit her job.
She loved him too much too leave.
So she didn't. That morning she'd been planning on telling everyone her plans to find another job somewhere else, maybe closer to her family, and that night she walked out of the office feeling loved and thankful for her friends, and one friend in particular.
Currently, said friend was sitting quietly in the parking lot of her apartment while she dug up the courage to ask him inside for the night. Her plans consisted of sleeping in for as long as she needed thanks to a well-deserved few days off of work, and though Spencer would most likely return earlier, she desperately hoped she could convince him to stay.
It was quiet for a while and the lights in the car had long since turned off, leaving them in darkness as well as silence. Despite that fact, it wasn't eerie in the slightest... It was comfortable.
Even more so when Y/N reached over and grabbed his hand.
And then she spoke.
"Can... Can you stay? I'm fine, I promise, I just... I could really use some company, you know?"
"Of course," he answered almost too quickly. It made her laugh, and though it was small, he felt a weight lift off his chest at the sound.
The two of them walked up to her apartment in more of that comfortable, dark silence. The only light source to be found was within the dim lights of the hallway, though they'd made the walk so many times it was like second nature.
That familiarity followed them through her doorway, Y/N taking off her jacket and instinctively handing it over with her to-go bag, where Spencer's arms were already outstretched. He took them and removed his shoes, then transported their belongings to the chair in the corner of her living room, maybe five or six steps ahead from the entryway.
Y/N took a large breath and smiled as she flipped on the lights.
Spencer noticed, turning to her with a smile of his own. "Good to be home?"
"Mhm," she responded with a nod. "But you know what would make it even better?"
The knowing smile they shared brought warmth to her chest as he made his way to the kitchen, saying, "Peppermint hot chocolate, coming right up."
As her best friend made noise in the kitchen, Y/N padded over to her couch, flipping on the table lamp next to it and sitting down with an over-exaggerated humph. Her legs curled off to the side as she leaned against the armrest, taking a deep breath and breathing in the warm comfort of home, only amplified a little while later by the aroma of soft peppermint.
She could hear Spencer humming quietly to himself in the kitchen, the sound bringing a smile to her face. He always absentmindedly hummed her favorite song when he was making them food or something to drink, or even when they were just hanging out together in comfortable silence. She wondered often if he ever sang it to himself when he was alone.
And she was going to ask, but before she got the chance, he came up behind her with two mugs of hot chocolate. She took hers gladly with a smile that perfectly matched the warmth of the mug. And while she took the first sip as he walked around the couch and took his regular spot on the cushion next to hers, that warmth spread to her chest. She sunk into the couch as her eyes fluttered closed.
Beside her she could hear Spencer laugh. "That good, huh?"
"You're an expert hot chocolate maker, don't let anyone tell you any different."
Another laugh came from him, and the sound bought warmth to other places.
They sipped their hot chocolate together, once again basked in silence that was only disrupted by the distinct ticking of Y/N's cuckoo clock, a Christmas gift from Spencer one year after she'd mentioned how much she was oddly fascinated by them. It sat on the wall across from them, next to the TV and right above a DVD rack with her favorite movies. She stared at the clock fondly as she drank her way through the hot chocolate, and Spencer did the same.
Eventually they were out, and once their mugs were placed on either side table, they found themselves turning to each other with more of that second nature pulling them together like the moon pulling the ocean. Once their knees touched it was like the ocean dragged them under, only rather than suffocating, they found themselves breathing easier, like they were finally at peace.
The clock rung out, and only after it finished echoing did Spencer initiate conversation. He examined the bruise right under her eye, and once again the gravitational pull was too much, his hand reaching out to touch it with curiosity as well as concern. "Are you feeling alright? Do you need some ice or anything?" he asked softly.
Y/N felt her heart stutter at the featherlight touch of his fingertips, and despite herself, she blushed. "No, I'm okay. Better now that I'm home. With you."
His eyes flicked up to meet hers at her words, and the softness and genuine relief he found in them made him melt.
He moved to take his hand away, but Y/N reached up and gently grabbed his wrist, bringing it back to her face pacing his palm firmly against the whole surface of her cheek. He watched lovingly as she closed her eyes and leaned into his hand further, bringing her hand to wrap around his forearm and hold him there. And in that moment, he had to wonder if she could hear the loud, intense beating of his heart as it drowned out the clock's ticking.
"I... I was so scared," Y/N whispered, keeping her eyes closed. "I mean... In the back of my mind I knew you guys would come for me, but... That was... my first time ever being in a hostage situation by myself, let alone at all, and I..." She paused, stumbling on her words before exhaling a breathy laugh. "Those people were creepy."
Spencer laughed with her, his hand still resting on her face. When she finally did open her eyes again, she looked up at him through her eyelashes, and in that moment she looked so soft and vulnerable that he couldn't help but finally tell the truth.
In a whisper so soft she almost didn't hear it, he confessed, "I was so afraid that I lost you..."
"Yeah, but... You found me," she returned with a smile as she nuzzled into his hand further. "You always do."
Something in the way she said it made him bolder, and he realized then that that's what she always did.
She strengthened him, made him more bold and determined... And she gave him something to hold onto when he was lost. When things felt impossible, Y/N always said the one thing that put him back together and made him feel whole again, whether it was a few sentences, or in this case three little words: "You always do."
Completing him was her second nature, something he wasn't even sure she was aware of.
But now that he knew, he had to tell her.
"Y/n..." Spencer traced his thumb along the underside of her bottom lip, and he could have swore he felt her sigh out. He stayed paused, reveling in the way he seemed to have an effect on her, his thumb longing to slide further and trace her entire mouth.
Nevertheless, he continued. "You are... Everything to me. And I don't tell you very often how much your friendship means to me, but I... I can't keep going forward without you knowing just how much I care about you. Really, it..." He huffed a laugh, hoping he wasn't making an utter fool of himself and that she wouldn't push him away at this confession that was dying to escape. "It's embarrassing how much I love you."
He couldn't tell if it was exhaustion taking hold of him, or the relief he felt at finally getting that off his chest, but he held his breath as he studied her eyes, which were glassy like she was on the verge of tears. Her grip around his forearm tightened and she turned, kissing the inside of his palm and keeping her lips pressed there for what felt like forever, until he started to feel his skin go numb. Realistically he knew it was only a trick on the brain, how such a simple affectionate gesture like that had the most heart-swelling and mind-numbing effects on him because of how much he loved her.
But damn it, he didn't care.
She murmured his name into his palm, and her eyes flicked up to meet his again. That's when he noticed a tear fall from her eye and down her cheek, right into the side of his thumb.
Finally, she responded, "I love you, too, Spencer. I... I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to tell you, but... After what just happened, I don't know if I could ever spend another day without loving you."
His heart absolutely burst at the seams, warmer than before, and most certainly not from the hot chocolate. That warmth only spread, turning into a raging wildfire when she let go of his hand and moved forward, practically tackling him and wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him and pressing her face to the crook of his neck. His arms wrapped around her back, hugging her close as she straddled him and continued to nuzzle into his skin, his presence...
They held each other like that for a good minute before Y/N finally gained the courage to pull back and look into his eyes. They were just as glassy as hers, just as filled with love and comfort and home as she could ever have dreamed. Her hands slid down to rest on his shoulders for a moment before one of them cradled his face.
And then she kissed him.
She knew he loved her, he told her as much, but in case this was already going too far, Y/N kept it light and hesitant, desperately hoping it wouldn't make things weird.
But of course, there was nothing to worry about. And Spencer showed her that as his lips pressed deeper into hers, his hands on her back pushing her closer to him and seeking as much contact as possible.
She brought both of her hands to gently run through his hair, and at the sigh he let out against her mouth, Y/N tugged harder, pulling herself up so she could get into a better, more comfortable position on his lap.
They shared peppermint hot chocolate kisses until the clock rung out again, both of them pulling away with a little surprise.
"Has it really been an hour since it last went off?" Y/N mused in a whisper, taking in the swollen state of Spencer's mouth. The sight sent a course of butterflies through her stomach.
"I guess it has... It's um... It's late, maybe we should get some sleep."
"Only if you come with me," Y/N offered, running her fingers through his hair once more.
Spencer nodded with a small smile, his thumb tracing the bottom of her chin. "Of course."
They pulled themselves off the couch and, hand-in-hand, navigated their way to her bedroom. And even though they'd never actually done it before, sleeping in her bedroom together, the whole journey was so familiar it was like they'd done it a million times over.
SMUT ENDING BELOW
Y/N didn't know what time it was, only that the sun was brightly peeking through her sheer curtains, basking her bedroom in a warm glow that made it almost impossible to be comfortable under the covers. When she moved to take them off of her, she felt a hand snake around her waist, pressing firmly against her lower stomach and holding her in place.
"Are you awake?" she asked aloud to the air, softly in case Spencer was, in fact, still asleep.
"Mhm," he mumbled behind her, his breath softly fanning out across her shoulder. "Have been for about an hour."
"You could have woke me up," she said, turning around to face him. His hand lifted and then settled on her shoulder when she was in position.
"You deserved the rest," is all he offered in explanation as his hand gently brushed the hair from her shoulder. It tickled as it fell behind her, dropping off her body and across the back of her neck. Spencer trailed his fingers lightly up her neck until they reached her ear, and then he trailed them back down and over the curve of her shoulder, and then down her arm. He continued this and smiled as he took notice of the goosebumps that formed all over her skin. The thin tank top she'd changed into before bed left most of her exposed, each little freckle and hair that adorned her skin on display in the warm sunlight.
Meanwhile she smiled, heat slowly rising to her cheeks as she recalled their kisses on the couch. Needless to say, her dreams that night were rather scandalous, something she wasn't unfamiliar with, though given these new circumstances she was more than a little hot right now.
Spencer noticed, his hand halting its movement on her skin and resting itself on her waist over the blanket. "You're thinking about it, too? Last night?"
Y/N looked him in the eye and swore she saw them dilate when she responded. "Yeah. Among other things..."
"What... kind of other things?"
She would have told him, but since it was obvious they were both feeling the heat she bit her lip instead, a teasing look in her eye. "You're a smart man. You tell me."
"What if I... show you instead?" he whispered, his voice broken and obviously a little shocked that this was finally going to happen.
"Take it away, Doc."
His first kiss was sweet, reminiscent of the first one they shared on the couch, and his second was a little deeper. Y/N gave her stamp of approval by sighing, bringing a hand up to play with his hair again, and it was the trigger that shot him forward, his lips working hers with more passionate, methodical precision. Meanwhile his hand dipped under the covers and pressed firmly at her back, slipping under her shirt and bringing her closer.
She wrapped her leg over his waist, pulling herself forward to get as much contact as she could while he swiped over her bottom lip with his tongue. The small whimper she let out at his kisses made his hips buck forward involuntarily, to which Y/N clenched her leg tighter around his waist and tugged a little harder at his hair.
He tipped them over then, rolling so that he was hovering over her while their kisses only grew needier. His hand slipped under her shirt, feeling the expanse of her stomach and her sides. The low hum that came from her throat at his touches drove him half wild, so he boldened them, slowly sliding up and up until he reached her bare breasts. Her legs came out immediately and hooked themselves around the back of his thighs as she whined at his touch.
With curious kneads of her chest and even more exploratory kisses that were reciprocated with an equal hunger and passion, it didn't take long for Spencer to feel his insides churn with a desire that could possibly never be satiated. Even if Y/N was the one who kept him whole, he also knew she would be the one to completely wreck him to pieces. He'd rarely ever felt this type of desire before, especially not towards someone who took up every crack and crevice of his mind at any given moment. And now that he had it, he never wanted to let it go. She was going to utterly ruin him, and he'd never been more welcoming to that type of damnation—the type that was also his salvation.
Because she was everything all at once, devastatingly beautiful in every imaginable way.
Her hands tugged at his tee shirt, punctuating her urgency with a needy little whine into his mouth. He pulled back then, tugging off his shirt at the expense of taking his hands away from her. But from his higher position now, he took her in in all her wild glory, lips swollen and a little red, hair splayed out across the pillows, and her breathing visibly heavy. Even with the bruise under her eyes, she was the most breathtaking person he'd ever seen. She marveled up at him, willing her gaze to trail down his chest and stomach, her bottom lip tucking itself gently between her teeth as she stared at where his sweatpants hung low on his hips.
Y/N reached out and grazed her middle finger across the waistband of his pants, gently feeling the fabric and his skin at the same time. He was still, continuing to watch her explore his body the way he'd done hers, always amazed at the curious look in her eye— the one that was now swimming in a pool of lust. Her hand trailed upwards, feeling the soft planes of his torso until she couldn't reach any higher.
"Having fun?" Spencer mused with a smile as she rested both her hands on either side of his waist.
She sat up then, pressing a kiss to his neck while her hands travelled south, under the waistband of his pants. He sucked in a breath as she palmed him through his underwear, gently nipping his shoulder before she answered. "Oh, I'm having so much fun."
He was going to say something, but words escaped him as she sat up on her knees and continued tracing the outline of his dick through his underwear. He was painfully hard in an instant, a fact at which Y/N gave a low, amused laugh. Once she found the underside of his tip, she gently rubbed it through the fabric with her thumb, and the broken whine that he let out delighted her in every way. Her tongue traced his collarbone and the contours of his shoulders and neck until she reached his jawline. She licked him there too, humming as her thumb worked faster at his dick.
"Mmm, I've wanted this for so long," she told him softly, bringing her lips up to his ear. "Do you know how many times I've thought about us? Dreamed about us?"
"Not as many as me, probably," he choked out with a small laugh, audibly trying to keep it together as his stomach burned with every languid stroke of her thumb over his most sensitive point.
Y/N returned his laugh and sensually kissed his jaw before saying, "I doubt that." Then she dragged her mouth up to his lips and brought her hand out of his pants so she could thread all her fingers through his hair. Though they were kneeling, he was still taller than her, so his hard erection pressed firmly against her stomach as he brought her closer, gripping her hips and melting into her.
When his right hand slipped into her sleep shorts, she whined out and pressed herself harder against him, reveling in the way the heat from his hand practically burned into her ass. He kneaded her there as well, groaning into her mouth when she tugged on his hair and turned her head to deepen their kiss.
It was obvious that she was trying to feel some type of friction— her knees were willing her to get up higher, to feel him hard against her, but alas she wasn't able to reach. She showed her frustration by whining into his mouth and trying to pull herself up, the pressure of her arms around his neck getting stronger with every passing second.
"Spencer pulled away laughing a little, removing his hand from her shorts and bringing it to the front, dragging along the inside of her thigh. "Is there something you want from me, pretty girl?"
The nickname sent a fire through her veins that set off every smoke detector in her brain, the alarm coming out in the form of a whimper. "I want to feel you inside me," she whispered, nuzzling her nose to his and reaching down to guide his hand farther up. When his middle finger breached the fabric of her shorts, she whimpered again, willing herself closer to him. "Please, Spencer."
He hummed lowly, drawing circles into her skin. "Are you prepared? Like, do you... have condoms or anything, do we need one?"
"I have some in my top drawer if you want me to get it," she said quickly with a nod.
He laughed a little, amused at her eagerness, before pulling away from her and helping her off the bed. Once she was feet-first on the ground, she strode over to the dresser where she opened a small drawer on the top left and rummaged through it. Meanwhile Spencer followed her and came up behind her, pressing his front to her backside and making her tense. He brushed her hair aside and brought his lips to her neck, his hands resting at her waist.
She slowly rolled her hips against him, sighing out when his hands gripped her tighter. One of them slipped down into her shorts again, this time coming around front and resting over her clothed pussy. His fingers explored her like hers had explored him, teasing her in the same way that made her want to burst into flames.
"So wet already, pretty girl..." he mused, sighing and attacking her neck with more kisses. "I bet I'll be able to just slide right in..."
She outwardly moaned this time, clutching a condom in her hand and then slamming the drawer shut. "Alright then, Mr. PhD, why don't you put that theory to the test?"
He loved how eager she was, and a little impatient. Something told him that if he teased her enough, she might have just begged him for anything. But he didn't want to do that right now. No, right now he was planning on showing the love of his life just how much she meant to him. He was going to give her everything he had, and then some.
So he turned her around and kissed her, walking them backwards until his legs hit the foot of the bed. He almost went down, but before he could, he turned them around again. Y/N's body hit the bed, her legs immediately opening for him to stand between them. Rather than leaning down to kiss her again though, Spencer ran his hands tugged lightly at her shorts, to which Y/N gladly lifted her hips and allowed him to pull them off. Her underwear weren't too far behind, and then she lifted her shirt over her head, tossing it aside and leaning back on her elbows.
Seeing her fully bare like this was enough to drive him mad, but he held on, spreading her knees apart and sliding his hands along the insides of her thighs. "Y/N, you're perfect..." As he marveled at her and showered her with love and praise, he slid his hands further and further up her body until they reached her arms.
She helped him remove his pants and underwear, and once they were off, Y/N tore open the condom and handed it to him. He rolled it on and then leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead. Then her temple, then her cheek... Then he pressed the softest kiss to her lips and looked her in the eyes. "You really want to?"
She smiled at him and nodded, bringing one of his hands to her entrance and pressing his fingers to the wetness that pooled there. "You feel how bad I want it?"
He groaned and kissed her then, circling his middle finger over her clit and making her cry out against him. After a few more seconds of this, Spencer positioned them at the head of the bed and angled his hips forward, the head of his dick coming in contact with her pussy.
He slid in slowly, reveling in every pure, blissful second that went by as he gradually became completely enveloped in her. Once he was buried to the hilt, Y/N threw her head back and bit her lip, her hands reaching out to play with his hair again. He ground himself into her for a few seconds before pulling back and then starting a slow, steady rhythm.
"God, Y/N, you feel so good... So... perfect for me."
"Funny, I was just going to say the same thing about you," she breathed. Her eyes trained themselves on his, and though there was a lot of love there, she saw something else that she recognized, something hesitant. It was close to the same look he gave her last night, after she'd explained to him that she was fine after he examined her injury.
He was going easy on her. But she wanted more.
Y/N reached up to tug his hair gently, biting her lip and batting her eyes. "I'm not made of glass you know... You can fuck me harder if you want to."
Everything from the look on her face to the way she said it to the way she clenched around him as she did made him half feral. He smirked at her without thinking, a natural reaction to her challenge. "Oh, you like it a little rough, huh?"
She smirked back at him and nodded, tugging his hair harder. "Uh huh."
Though he started fucking into her harder, his pace remained slow,  accentuating each rough thrust with a huff through his nose. Y/N's mouth opened involuntarily, the power of his movements rendering her almost speechless. Eventually though, she let out one large moan as her fingers even further tightened their grip in Spencer's hair.
Taking note of her reactions, he felt pleased with himself. "You like that, don't you, pretty girl? You like it hard and deep..."
Her hands dropped from his head and rested at the sheets, gripping them instead as he worked his hips a little faster. "Y—yes, baby, I fucking love how hard you fuck me."
The words tumbled out of their mouths so easily, each syllable spoken with the right amount of lust and truth, it was like their conversation was a dance. Their bodies and their words melded together in a perfect number that brought them further towards the climax.
But, as every dance does, their needed a little flourish.
Spencer reached out and caressed her cheek again, his thumb going straight to her lips. Y/N opened her mouth and sucked it in, swirling her tongue around it and groaning at the way he bit his lip when she did so.
"Fuck, pretty girl, you're gonna ruin me if you keep that up."
She smiled at his words, which allowed him to press his thumb flat down onto her tongue. Her mouth remained open as he held it there, her pants and moans coming out clear as day. And as if that wasn't hot enough, she batted her eyelashes up at him, and he fucked her even faster, both of them starting to feel the signs of impending orgasm.
He could have kept his thumb in her mouth forever, but to aid her in pleasure, he removed it, dragging it down her chin before bringing it to her clit and rubbing in tight circles.
"Fuck, Spence, that's it," Y/N moaned, looking down between their bodies and almost losing it at the sight that beheld her. "Don't stop, don't fucking stop!"
He leaned forward to kiss her then, the new angle finally bringing her over the edge. She cried out into his mouth as it explored her own, soaking up all the sounds she made and using them to fuel his own release.
They came together, and it felt  like years of tension and anticipation and love finally culminated into one giant explosion that enveloped them whole. It felt like, for a moment, nothing else in the world existed, only Spencer, Y/N, and their palpable connection that felt very much like a home in and of itself.
Even as they came down, their breathing slowing down and their touches becoming gentler, that explosion quieted right alongside them, an echo of love and warmth lingering in its wake.
Spencer pulled out and laid beside her, reaching out and gently touching the bruise under her eye. "You okay?"
She couldn't help but laugh. "Yes. I'm more than okay... I'm perfect."
He smiled at her, pure, true comfort settling in his bones. It was a rare feeling, but he was glad that it came with her presence. "Me, too. And I... I meant what I said last night, Y/N, I... I love you. More than words could accurately describe."
Her heart swelled at his words. "I love you, too, bud. More than anything in the world."
He contemplated for a minute, a smile forming as he said his next words. "More than pickles?"
Y/N threw her head back in a boisterous laugh that made Spencer's heart beat a little faster, before playfully hitting his harm and snuggling up next to him. "Yes, definitely more than pickles."
"Good. That would have been embarrassing."
"I don't love you more than peppermint hot chocolate, though. Or that cuckoo clock."
Spencer pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Yeah, but I got you those things, so technically that means you have to love me at least as much as them..."
"Okay. That's fair, I'll give you that one."
With an over-exaggerated, "Phew," Spencer smiled and pulled her closer, the warm sunlight from the windows giving him the most clear view of their legs tangled together over her lavender-colored comforter. It was so domestic, so perfect and loving and real that he never wanted to forget it.
He was thankful that he never would.
***
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writing-in-april · 3 years
Text
Poker Face
Spencer Reid x Female Reader
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Summary: Reader thought she could get away with speaking her desires out loud as long as they were in a different language. Turns out, someone could understand her.
A/N: Hey guys! This is my fourth fic for my 1250 follower celebration!! I got this request from @imagining-in-the-margins and if you want to see the original request go checkout my follower celebration Masterlist! I do not speak Russian, nor do I know someone who does so I made everything in italics as if they were speaking in Russian! Hope y’all enjoy reading and requests are open!
Warnings: 18+, Public sex (who’s surprised lmao), Reader is very unprofessional and probably should be fired lmao, Dom Spencer with hints of Sub Spencer in the future (dont worry all my Sub Spencer lovers I’ve got more coming for that soon!), Nickname use: Princess, Unprotected sex, Fingering, Oral sex (M receiving),Creampie
Main Masterlist Word Count: 2.1k
Words in italics are in Russian
There was no harm in voicing my thoughts I thought to myself, in a different language, Russian specifically. Especially since the only one that could understand me wasn’t near me at the moment nor would she probably bat an eye at a slightly risqué remark. Emily was snuggled up at the other end of the jet, her headphones in both of her ears. They would plug up any sound around her preventing her from translating the lusty thought that sat on my lips.
If I said my thoughts in Russian, no one would be able to catch how much I wanted Spencer’s fingers inside me. They were long, obviously dexterous- I knew they’d be able to reach places inside me that I couldn’t reach myself. I couldn’t say these thoughts out loud, in English at least,
I didn’t want Spencer to ever know. But, I wanted to get the thoughts swirling in my head off my chest, the only way to do that without embarrassment was to say it in a way that no one here would be able to understand.
As Spencer shuffled with ease and delt the cards out with his dexterous fingers my lusty thoughts were too pressing for my lips to be able to contain. So I spoke quickly with my voice slightly lowered, maybe Spencer and the people around me would miss my transition into a different language, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”
Spencer blinked back at me, obviously confused by my words.
“Sorry, just spaced out for a second, didn’t realize I had switched to Russian.” I giggled out, mostly because I was amazed that I had gotten away with it. I moved on quickly not wanting to linger on my ‘slip up’ any longer, plus I finally wanted to try and play against Spencer in a poker game, “Let’s see if your poker face is as good as everyone says it is, Spencer.”
—-
“Please, fuck me?” Over the course of my daring adventures I had become increasingly louder with my declarations. Last week I had commented about how much I wanted his cock in my mouth, of course in Russian and the week before that I had made my initial comment about how much I wanted his fingers inside me.
This one happened to be the loudest out of the three little sentences that seemed like innocent slips into another language to everyone else, but to me and only to me I was voicing my desires. Each time I did it a little rush of adrenaline sparked through me, no one besides Emily would be able to translate, who wasn’t with me in the file room. It was only Spencer and I in here right now, the rest of the team had gone home for the night.
“Maybe we shouldn’t do that at the office, but if you asked me again somewhere else I’d do it.” He answered me back and in perfect Russian as well.
My entire being withered in embarrassment as soon as I had translated Spencer’s words, he understood me. He had understood all of what I had said, every last word. I should’ve remembered that he spoke Russian, we had a case where he spent the whole time translating, I couldn’t believe how idiotic I had been. I wanted the earth to swallow me up in that moment, just so I could escape Spencer’s piercing gaze. I couldn’t tell from his words or the look on his face what exactly he was feeling about my words, some profiler I was. He didn’t seem angry at least, maybe a bit bemused?
I shrank back a little more over fear if he was making fun of me or not. If I hadn’t been feeling so mortified I would’ve realized that Spencer wasn’t one to make fun of anyone, hindsight is 20/20 after all.
“Your poker face is spot on.” Was the only measly response that I could find myself to come up with, in an attempt to cover my embarrassment if only a little bit. A bunch of apologies also felt like they were crawling up my throat. I was absolutely mortified that I had been caught red handed, it was beyond unprofessional- I don’t think there was even a word for it. I had crossed the line so far I might as well have leaped over it, forgetting that it had ever existed.
“Well- I am from Vegas and before you start apologizing, you don’t need to. I liked it.”
Silence fell between us again after his smart remark. It was like we were sizing each other up, deciding what to do.
“You know- there’s no one here tonight, everyone’s gone home…” My confidence seemingly had come back after being knocked down a few pegs. I tapped my fingers absentmindedly on the large desk in the file room, my mind wandering to think about what it would be like if he bent me over it.
“That’s true.” A smirk was on his face now, one that I didn’t see often from him. I felt like I was going to be ensnared by him as soon as I took the time to blink.
Sure enough in a flash he had brought me into a bruising kiss that I got swallowed up by so fast there was no chance for me to try and win back any dominance.
In no time he had me bent over the table, my face pressed into the cool silver metal with my back arching up trying to reach his touch in any way I could. He gripped the waistband of my skirt roughly, but did not pull it down right away. He pulled my skirt down ever so slowly that by the time it reached the floor I impatiently wiggled to step out of it.
“You’re impatient.” He stated simply. I couldn’t deny it because of how true it was, all he’d have to do was pull my black lace panties off to see how wet I had become.
Instead I decided to lean in on how needy and impatient I was by whining out, “Spencerrr, please?”
“What do you want? Is it the same thing you said to me on the plane?” He pressed a kiss to my hip as he pulled down my panties just as slowly as he had done with my skirt, making me squirm again. Once I was bare from the waist down before him he paused for a moment to look at me; I withered a little under his gaze. I whined again when he carefully took his long fingers to just slightly part my folds before speaking again, “Tell me.”
I hesitated a little for a moment trying to focus to remember exactly what I had said on the plane. When I had collected my thoughts I whispered out in Russian, much more shaky than I had said on the plane, “I wished you would use those fingers on me instead, preferably inside of me.”
He was seemingly satisfied by my breathless reply, immediately beginning to work me up to orgasm. As he started to work his fingers inside of me he pressed his other hand down on the small of my back, a silent warning to not move.
I contemplated disobeying him, but when two of his fingers curled inside me to perfectly hit my g-spot it felt too good to lose.
“You gonna cum so quick for me, princess?” I got even wetter when he said princess like that, in Russian made me get even wetter than I already was. I was practically dripping down my thighs- and Spencer’s fingers.
“Yes! I’m gonna cum soon!” I gasped out and tried in vain to wriggle my hips to gain more friction, his hand on my back however was unyielding.
“Ask nicely and I might let you.”
“Please?!” I even asked it in Russian to make the plea possibly better in Spencer’s eyes. He didn’t respond right away, only picking up his pace faster. I tried to hold off my orgasm as best as I could, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I was going to be able to hold it. “Please, sir?”
“Alright, since you asked so nicely. You can cum, princess.”
I gave up the fight of holding off my orgasm, it immediately washed over me. My legs shook with the force of how hard and fast my orgasm shot through me, causing me to cry out as well.
Once I had come down from my high I slid off the table and down to my knees to repeat what I had said while at the round table a week ago “I want your cock in my mouth.”
He looked at me with wild eyes and obliged me, letting his cock free from his slacks. My mouth watered at the sight of him, his tip was bright red and dripping with precum. He had obviously not been the only one to be turned on.
As I grasped him in my hands and jerked him slowly I relished in the way he felt in my hand. He felt hot and heavy, I couldn’t wait to take him into my mouth.
I wrapped my lips around his tip, sucking lightly. Spencer’s head tipped backwards, his hands curled into fists as if he was trying to prevent himself from grabbing my hair to fuck my face. Little did he know that was exactly what I wanted.
When I guided one of his hands to the back of my hair to reassure him that I didn’t mind if he took control that way he almost let out a groan, but successfully stifled it by biting into his other fist. He then fisted my hair harder, wrapping his hand around so tight that tears prickled a bit in my eyes. It wasn’t a bad feeling at all, I enjoyed it.
I enjoyed it even more when he started to use his hand to guide my head up and down. He set the pace to the one he desired. It wasn’t too fast or hard, it was actually quite slow. He dragged out each of my movements and when my nose nuzzled at the base of his cock he had me stay there for a moment each time. Each time I gagged a little on him he let out an almost whine, it made me wonder whether or not he’d look good underneath me as well. Though I was thoroughly content with being underneath him at this time.
Even though I had already had one orgasm the tingling between my thighs was not satiated, looking up at Spencer’s blissed out face only served to make me even more turned on.
“Stop.” I blinked up at him like he had done so at me on the jet, confused. I pulled off of his cock, a slight pop echoed in the air. He then lifted me up onto the table with my legs wrapped around his waist before I could ask him why he wanted for me to stop.
“Now what was that last thing you said to me? I want you to ask me again. ” His cock was running up and down my folds teasing me. My head fell back and I moaned when he bumped my clit.
“Please, fuck me?” My breathless voice sounded wrecked already.
“Well, since you asked so nicely.” As he slid into me my eyes rolled back into my head as he slid into me. His pace was faster this time than what he had done while fucking my face. I was squirming with overstimulation and my orgasm was going to come ridiculously fast. Spencer could sense it too and brought his hand down to my clit to bring me over my peak even faster.
“You can cum again, princess.” My second orgasm was much longer than my first. It sparked through me slowly, almost in waves that felt like they had multiple peaks.
He too, was not that far behind me. When he tried to pull out to probably cum all over the tops of my thighs I kept him locked in place with my legs around my waist and asked, “Cum inside me?”
He obliged me with a groan pumping into me a few more times before spilling inside me. We were both slick with sweat, making me wish for a shower. As soon as I got cleaned up that would be the first thing I’d be doing when I bolted home. Maybe I could bring Spencer along for another round, I could hear him speak Russian to me all day.
“I’ll go get something to clean you up.” He spoke softly as if he was afraid I’d break, you’d think after the way he had fucked me that he’d realized I was not so breakable. I’d have to fix that later. As I sat there with his cum dribbling down my thighs waiting for him to return , mixing with my own I knew that I’d never underestimate Spencer’s poker face again.
—-
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Dom Spencer:
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chemicalpink · 3 years
Note
BTS members's reaction to their future spouse wearing their clothes....
Disclaimer: This analysis/reading is based on my experience and knowledge of astrology, it is not meant to be the absolute truth, as BTS are real people, and astrology can only capture so much about multidimensional humans that have had past experiences and cultural approaches amongst other things, it does not have to resonate with you since this is in no way related to anyone reading it (unless you are a member of BTS in which case, get out of here lol ) This is just for entertainment purposes.Remember that tarot as a form of divination only allows us to read current energy and as time advances it becomes less accurate, so it basically reads up to a 6 months period of time, which leads me to also mention that by s/o I mean any soon to be relationship or an already established relationship, indistinct of whether they are a soulmate relationship or not. Entertainment purposes only.
Warning: contains slight mentions of smut, not explicit.
KIM SEOKJIN
he feels this sort of fondness inside of him, kinda like taking a big needed gulp of air after holding your breath for too long, this man has stars inside his eyes from watching his s/o in his clothes, can’t help but think hey, maybe they look even better on them than I do (only for a split second tho) the feeling you get all warm and fuzzy inside? that’s a given in him. Ear bright red, he might not be too much into lending his clothes on a daily but he sure as hell discovers a fondness in it. There’s also this sort of… domesticity to it, like- this man wants to feel at home and watching his s/o using something of his definitely delivers that homey feeling. Apart from all that, the quote that comes up us “you deserve love” so maybe… that impulsive need you sometimes get when you wanna wrap up something cute and squish it? That's the feeling that’s most prominent here. (5oCrx, the star, the empress oracle cards)
MIN YOONGI
now this is interesting… when watching his s/o in his clothes, Yoongi has this conflicted set of feelings, overwhelmed, mainly, he truly knows how to appreciate the cuteness behind the act but he can’t help but feel kind of undeserving of it, it seems like the action starts an overthinking spiral of yeah they’re cute and all but what they do for me is so much more than I could ever give back. He kind of feels selfish by keeping them by his side, can’t really bring himself to mutter a bigger compliment that a ‘you look nice’ don’t get him wrong, he definitely acknowledges the small act of love but he’s.. carrying so much inner baggage that he can’t really look past what the scene makes him feel. (the hermit rx, 6oS, 10oC+ oracle cards)
JUNG HOSEOK
Now… Hobi is a fashion icon okay keep this in mind. He seems to be very particular of his clothes so while he knows there are no bad intentions behind it, he kinda feels itchy at the sight. It is funny though, there’s a playful feeling of surrender as he watches his s/o wear his clothes, like ‘fine okay I won’t get as itchy just this once cause you look cute or whatever’ soft smiles and warm hearts. Although he’s not the biggest fan of the action, it definitely serves to boost his ego, makes him feel like the man in a non greasy way/non toxic way, like a reassurance that his s/o is deciding to stay by his side after all. Similar to having conflicted feeling like Yoongi but from different parts from within, sure, he can’t help but think ‘oh god please be careful with that jacket if it gets stained there’s no going back’ but at the same time watching his s/o in it softens his rough edges and makes him smile even just a little. (7oWrx, 10oS, the emperor + oracle cards)
KIM NAMJOON
This man- the absolute death of me. Kim NAmjoon enjoys a good teasing. And he can’t help but keep feeling like that is exactly what his s/o wearing his clothes entails, and man is he glad to play along. Not quite exactly sexual, but more of a sensual part of it, he’s just dying to get the clothes off. Can’t keep his hands to himself (cue that one Selena Gomez song) it flips a PDA switch on him, he feels absolutely loved to the edges, has this warm feeling inside his heart that he can’t help but wonder how he got so lucky, and honestly, it isn’t frequently when people get to see his bright sunny side so it ends up being even softer than intended, he just feels so full and bursting at the seams with happiness. (5oC, the sun, ace oC+ oracle cards)
PARK JIMIN
Error 404. Park Jimin.exe has stopped working. This man loves good dramatics in his day to day and really, there’s no stopping him when he sees his s/o in his clothes, Time stops, his heartbeat is erratic, all he wants is to be their loyal servant, personal hype man at their service. Whatever it is that he was doing before? forget that completely, he's devoted to his s/o now. He gets to experience new sides of the relationship with such a simple action, like realising that he truly is head over heels for this person. There’s just a lot of loudness in this. I meant it when I said personal hype-man, would probably even go as far as to let his s/o “shop” inside his vast clothes collection ‘yeah take this and this, these would look amazing on you’ So yeah maybe he feels a tad bit insecure that his s/o is absolutely rocking his wardrobe but he can quickly get those feelings aside if it means watching his s/o just a little bit longer being the truest model there could possibly be out there. (IM SORRY I LOST THE CARDS LMAO)
KIM TAEHYUNG
This man goes 0 to 100 real quick. And don't get me wrong, he’s pretty romantic, but seeing his s/o wear his clothes? Now that’s a switch going off very clearly. Again, not in a toxic masculine way, but Taehyung is bursting with this distinctive dominating shine when watching his s/o wear his clothes, he’s absolutely on top of the world, cloud nine, and there’s no coming back down. He’s pretty playful about it, but there’s absolutely no doubt that inside his mind those clothes are currently non-existent. It’s the final nail in the coffin, the final reassurance that his s/o is his and his only, like a reminder that he is in a relationship and he’s 100% devoted to it. It does go down the traditional relationship line of thought but he’s quite a traditional man himself, so without any ill intention behind, he would really just like to show off his s/o being cute inside his clothes, a proud feeling behind when he talks about it, like a little kid teasing his friends about getting the best candy out of them all. (the hierophant, justice, the chariot)
JEON JUNGKOOK
Okay this is about to be quite a ride. As things are right now, he doesn’t seem to have a lot of tact when it comes to lovey dovey couple stuff, this man is more of a- man of deep rooted actions and sometimes cute words sprinkled on top rather than superficial actions, he doesn’t seem to find the appeal behind his s/o wearing his clothes, at least in an intended to be romantic type of way. He finds it trendy and he might just act cold about it, it doesn’t really hold a deeper meaning to him personally. Listen, he might be the type of boyfriend to ask for his hoodies back as soon as possible. If it isn’t meant to be done in a “oh look the couple sharing clothes” way, he might find his s/o cute in them, but not overwhelmingly so like many other people do. He’s just- very particular about his possessions being his. Funny inner thought that came up ‘we can buy matching shirts just please don’t steal my clothes’ (judgement rx, the tower, QoSrx)
Decks Used: the romance angels oracle cards, the prisma visions tarot
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green-socks · 3 years
Text
Endless Nights
Pairing: Benny Miller x gn!reader (no descriptions or pronouns)
Summary: You and Benny can't seem to get enough of each other's company. Could tonight be the night you find the courage to do something about that crush?
Words: 2,101
Warnings: Nudity but not the sexual kind, food/eating. Almost zero editing and a tired writer.
Notes: I don't always participate in Writer Wednesday, but when I do I take one look at the picture, get an idea and then go completely off the rails. Sorry. So the pic doesn't really have a lot to do with the rest of the fic but I hope that's okay. For this week's @autumnleaves1991-blog Writer Wednesday, thanks for organizing it every week!
I had the idea for midnight shopping at the supermarket with Benny and then realized I didn't want the night to end there... So it didn't. I actually like this piece, even if it probably suffered a lot from my fast writing and non-existent editing. Reader is mentioned having shorter legs than Benny but other than that I think there are no descriptions or pronouns used of reader, lmk if I'm wrong.
MASTERLIST
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You and Benny have been driving around aimlessly for a couple of hours already, taking turns in picking the music, and talking about this and that while sometimes falling into a companionable silence. It still amazes you how easy and comfortable everything is with him. You have never felt like this with a crush before, used to the feeling of always obsessing over what you felt like you could and couldn’t say or do, or spending a lot of time and energy into trying to figure out what the other thought.
No, with Benny you don’t have to pretend anything or force yourself to keep the conversation running in fear of those horrid awkward silences, because both of you know that you can talk for hours on end when the mood strikes. You met through mutual friends only a few weeks ago, but the connection was clearly there. As was the obvious mutual attraction.
Strictly speaking, though, you and Benny are just friends. Nothing has ever really happened to indicate otherwise in any case. But friends don’t usually try this hard to find any excuse just to hang out, nor do you stay up late every night talking to your other friends. And when you hang out in a group you always seem to gravitate towards one another. What’s more, somehow it always seems to be just the two of you left at the end of the night, often not even noticing the others leave.
Your interactions always border on the line of obvious flirting with your touches and already formed inside jokes, but neither of you ever dare do anything that couldn’t be brushed off as innocent behavior between friends. You guess you’re both just kind of scared to take the leap - you have been burned before, and so has he.
It’s not that you doubt your own feelings for Benny, or indeed his feelings for you. Even you have to admit that he does seem pretty interested in you, but you still wave away your friends’ squeals of “he’s totally in love with you!”, mainly not wanting to get your hopes up too much.
Because a small part of you still finds it a little hard to believe; someone so handsome and funny and kind wanting to be with you? What if he likes you, but just not as much as you like him? What if you were just a second choice for someone you really like until something better comes along - again? That scares you, both of you.
Tonight has been like many other nights lately; you had been to the movies with some of your friends, but after the movie ended you had been grasping at straws to come up with a way to continue the night so they (Benny) wouldn’t go home just yet. Benny had helpfully suggested just driving around and seeing if any ideas came to mind.
Santiago in turn had rolled his eyes at you two knowingly (making both you and Benny fluster and try to fake complete nonchalance) before saying good night and leaving with the others, who apparently didn’t feel the compulsive need to continue spending time together.
--------
The sun has gone down already but you two are still enjoying each other’s company too much to go home yet.
You end up in the 24/7 supermarket parking lot, craving a midnight snack. You are reminded of your teenage years, when you used to hang around different parking lots, popping into the store to buy a soda or a candy bar, spending all day outside with friends.
The only other customers doing their midnight shopping are tired people just off their shifts or young people staying up late just for the hell of it, much like you and Benny are, in fact. You wander around the huge store together, pointing out different products you’d like to try and reviewing stuff one of you already has tried.
Before long you realize that you have already spent almost forty minutes idly wandering around the supermarket, collecting new soda or chip flavors to test. Neither of you thought to grab a basket at the entrance, so your arms are starting to get a bit full.
“Benny, do you think this might be enough?” you ask while struggling to maintain your hold on the different bags of chips.
Benny looks back at you from where he is pondering over whether to get some ice cream. “Huh, I guess. I do still wanna get a sandwich, though!” he exclaims and promptly takes off in the direction of the deli counter where they sell sandwiches and salads left over from the day.
You try to keep up with his long strides, certain that you must look a bit comical half-running after a man with your hands full of treats. Oh, well. Benny often complains about how much focus it requires of him to “modify his steps” to fit your much shorter legs, and he always forgets about it when he gets excited.
When you catch up with him, he has already picked a sandwich for himself and one for you. “I got you salmon, that’s your favorite, right?”
“Yeah, thanks!” you say a little breathlessly after your speed-walk, taken that he remembers.
As you finally get to the cash register and start loading your stuff in your bag you see Benny sneak one more candy bar among the rest of your purchases. For someone in such good physical shape he sure does like his candy.
“Where to next?” Benny inquires as you get back to the car.
“Hmm, how about this one waterfront type swimming spot? It’s pretty secluded, has a pier, and there’s a nice view to the sea. I sometimes like to sit there on the cliffs to watch the sun go down,” you suggest, and offer him directions to the place.
It’s a short drive and you show Benny where to park his car. Even though it’s somewhere around 1 a.m. and the sun went down hours ago, the night is still light enough that you can easily see where you’re going and it doesn’t feel like you’re just sitting in the dark.
You settle down on the small pier with your sandwiches and sodas and chips and munch away happily.
Benny hands you the candy bar you saw him grab earlier at the cash register “for dessert”. It has a cheesy text on the packaging about giving this to someone special. He grins and shrugs, “I know you love these”.
It’s such a simple gesture but you can’t help feeling really flattered and even more smitten with him than you already were. You don’t read too much into the text on the packaging, but even the fact that he would buy you a candy bar he knows you love - just because - warms your heart.
(What you don’t know is that the candy bars have lots of different texts to choose from, and that Benny specifically picked “give this to someone special” instead of “give this to a friend”. There was also “give this to someone you love”, but Benny worried that might scare you off.)
--------
After you’re both done with snacking you try to think of what to do next, still reluctant to pronounce this night to be over, you get an idea.
“You know what I would really like to do right now?” you ask Benny, looking out over the water that looks so tempting. “Go swim,” you announce, turning to look at him.
“You don’t have a swimsuit with you, do you?” Benny asks, turning to look at you too.
“No… But there’s no one here,” you point out with your eyebrows raised in challenge.
Benny looks at you for a few beats with a blank expression on his face, before shrugging “Alright,” and throwing off his hoodie and t-shirt, jeans following next. “What are you waiting for?” he shouts over his shoulder as he jumps from the pier into the water.
You’re left sitting there with your mouth open, blinking rapidly as you try to catch up with the fast turn of events. Shaking your head, you stand up and shrug off your clothes before quickly running after Benny and getting into the refreshing water.
The night is still warm, and the water feels wonderful. You swim to catch up with Benny.
“You know, it’s pretty dark here but I’ve basically seen you naked now,” he remarks, waggling his eyebrows, and you snort with laughter.
“Benny, you’re not allowed to make me laugh in the water or I’ll drown,” you try to say sternly.
“Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t let you drown,” he answers in a surprisingly serious voice.
Suddenly the energy between you is full of.. something. Something new and buzzing, sort of scary but also exciting. Something you can’t quite explain. You’re swimming around each other, looking at each other intently, but not daring to say anything that would break the moment and burst the bubble.
Someone else does that for you.
A couple of teenage girls, you’d guess around 18 years old, stumble on to the pier and immediately notice you two in the water. The other girl lets out a shriek and tightens her hold on the towel around her, and before you can even try to reassure them that everything is fine, they run off giggling and shrieking some more. Evidently, they had had the same idea for a nighttime swim but found the place already occupied.
“Yeahhhh, maybe we should put some clothes on before someone calls the police,” Benny suggests dryly.
You two climb out of the water giggling and grinning broadly. You don’t have any towels with you since you didn’t exactly plan this impromptu skinny-dipping session, but Benny gives you his hoodie to help keep you warm.
Sitting back down next to Benny you’re even closer together now than earlier, ever so slowly inching closer and closer to each other. Both of you think you could pass it off as huddling for warmth if the other were to question it, but somehow you know that won’t be an issue.
Soon enough you’re snuggling together on the waterfront overlooking the sea. You stay quietly like that for some time, maybe fifteen minutes, maybe more. It’s hard to tell when the world is so still and quiet around you.
Suddenly you think that this is it, this is the moment you’ve been waiting for. In all honesty you sort of enjoy the pining stage of new relationships, but right now you feel like you might burst if you keep these feelings inside you any longer.
You turn and burrow your head into the crook of his neck and decide that you will have to take the leap now. You start pressing gentle kisses on his neck and hear Benny’s breath hitch at the first contact of your lips on his skin. He goes still as a statue, but you can feel more than hear his unsteady breathing at your actions. You’re practically vibrating with nervous excitement as you work your way up to his jaw and towards his lips.
Taking one final deep breath you close your eyes, not daring to look at Benny in the eye right now, as you bring your lips to meet his.
The kiss is sweet and unhurried, and yet your head is swimming and your whole body is buzzing with it as you melt into each other. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt, which just proves that everything really is different - better - with Benny. You pull away when you find yourself quickly out of breath just from feeling so much.
You finally dare to open your eyes to find Benny gazing at you with a dazed expression that surely mirrors your own and you slowly beam at each other, not feeling the need for words just now. Maybe you couldn’t even find them if you tried.
You settle back against his chest and the two of you stay like that for the rest of the night, sometimes spending long moments just kissing each other, sometimes talking quietly, sometimes just enjoying each other’s presence.
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Around five in the morning, when the sun is already getting up, you finally start to really feel the need for sleep. But this time it doesn’t feel wrong to leave and go home, since you’ll be going home together.
Later that day you wake up to a good morning, sweetheart in Benny’s arms where you fell asleep on his couch, tired but happier than you’ve ever felt in your life.
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