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milf-murdock · 7 months

Note

Can I make a request? 🥹 Ghost when you joke to him about joining the military hehe. Thank you!

A/N: Okay wow thank you beautiful anon for sending in this ask and inspiring the FUCK out of me. I was really in my feels about not feeling up to writing anything (the imposter syndrome can be so real even in fandom spaces), but this ask set my brain ablaze. so thank you, dear <3 let me know if you like it!!

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Civilian!Reader (Established relationship)

“Who knows, maybe I’ll just say ‘fuck it’ and join the military,” you half-joke, before taking a sip of your tepid earl grey.

“Absolutely fucking not.” Simon’s abrupt growl catches you off guard, causing you to briefly choke on your final sip.

“Come again?” You manage to get out between coughs, raising your eyebrow in confusion, thoroughly taken aback by his rigid body posture and brash response. You both had been enjoying a quiet Saturday morning together, a treasured treat that were few and far between. The empty plates from the morning’s breakfast still sat between you two as you both enjoyed the last of your tea, the conversation veering from your typical work complaints to the casual idea of starting over fresh in a new career field.

It had all been rather pleasant, but you sense the mood shift, a familiar tug in your stomach telling you a fight was brewing.

“I said,” Simon continued in that deep voice, his tone taking on a bitter edge. “Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”

Your stubborn side flares up in indignation and you suppress a bitter laugh, finding yourself digging in your heels at the idea. You mentioned it as a joke, not even really thinking twice about it, but like hell you were going to be told no like that.

“And why, pray tell, the fuck not?” You shoot back at him from across the table. You practically slam your teacup on the table, the satisfying thunk emphasizing your question. “What? You don’t think I can do it? You don’t think I can handle myself?” You don’t slow down—oh no, you’re on a roll now. “Or is it that that specific role is only reserved for you? And I’m just supposed to stay home and be the doting housewife that sits around and waits for you to get back?”

At that final remark, Simon rises out of his seat, his dark gaze meeting your own as he steps around the table to you. You’re not even close to done though, quick to rise up out of your own seat to meet him.

“You have some real balls, Simon, acting like you get to just say no like that. I swear to god I will march down to the nearest recruiters office before you so much as finish your tea and I will—“ your thrown off mid-sentence as Simon’s hands embrace your face, his thumb tracing against your cheek bone in a gesture of pure tenderness. It’s a stark contrast to your fiery words, and you can practically feel the fire start to wane at the sweet touch.

Simon takes a step closer to you, and you find yourself inches away from his burly chest, forcing you to crane your neck to look up at him.

“I will—“ you try to continue your argument, but even you have to admit your words are wilting at his closeness.

Even after so many years together, you never get used to the way your body responds to him. Your heart rate picks up, your breathing ever so slightly unsteadied, and you find yourself leaning in even closer, drawn to him like a moth to the flame.

Simon’s thumb moves from your cheek down to press against your lips, silencing your argument.

You blink in response.

“You would make a fine soldier, darling,” his tone is low and even now, in clear opposition to your red-hot spirited words. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you would be pure dead brilliant and rise through the ranks."

Your rage starts to settle as you practically preen at the compliments. The tension leaves your shoulders, just enough to keep Simon going.

"It’s absolutely nothing to do with you, love. It’s me.”

“You?” You mutter against his thumb, brows furrowed in confusion, and he slides the digit down to your chin and caresses your jawline.

“Yeah...me,” Simon’s tone has a note of finality in it, and you know that he doesn’t want to explain further, but you need more than that.

“Explain.”

Simon’s exhale follows your demand, but he knows you well enough to know you’re not going to let this go.

“I do some pretty hard shit, yeah?” He starts, and you nod in response. “And I’ve trained for it. And I’m good at it. But it can still be pretty fucking brutal.”

Simon’s gaze trails to the side, and you recognize the far-away look in his eyes. You know specific memories are playing back in his mind, ones that he only mumbles about in the dead of night as you do your best to root him in reality from the night terrors. You’re scared to even breathe too loud at the risk of shattering the moment.

Simon takes a steadying breath before he continues, his gaze coming back to yours.

“The one thing that gets me through all of that shit is knowing that you’re here. That you’re safe.”

“What you do—waiting for me, not knowing if I’m okay, not knowing what’s going on, being in the dark like that. I can’t imagine that. I don’t think—“ he breaks off, swallowing hard before continuing. “I don’t think I could do that.”

His words hit you like a blow to the stomach.

“Simon,” you sigh, your shoulders deflating, all of the fight leaving your body at his admission.

“I’m not here to tell you what to do,” he soldiers on, “And I know I sound like the world’s biggest hypocritical prick right now. But please, love,” his tone takes on an exasperated edge and his hand leaves your face as he runs it through his hair. Another sigh falls from his lips, and you wish you could take back every word of this stupid spat. “Please just think about it for a while longer. For me?”

Simon’s pleading eyes fall to yours and you can’t hold back anymore. You rise up on your tiptoes, though even still he has to lean down to meet your lips. The kiss is a tender, soft thing. Simon’s hand rises to the nape of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair and pulling you even closer to him.

You break the kiss first, tilting your head back only slightly, giving yourself just enough room to utter your acquiescence.

“Okay,” you mutter breathlessly, at a loss for words after such a pure proclamation of affection from your otherwise indomitable lover.

“Okay?” Simon asks, relief dripping from the singular word, and you silently curse your stubborn streak for causing such unease in the man you love, even if only momentarily.

“Okay,” you sigh into his lips as you lean in closer.

#simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon “ghost” Riley

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uchispeach · 4 months

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Happy House (part 1)

Pairing: Singh! Reader x Dark! Rafe Cameron

➥ Warnings: Implied abuse, violence, obsessive & manipulative behavior, naive! reader…

➥ Series Masterlist

Too trusting.

That’s what your dad always called you, the adjective always coming out in a scolding tone.

You found it contradictory, remembering all those times in which your father told you that trust was a sacred thing to find.

So even now, as one of Singh’s men inexplicably refuses to take you home, you still take it in a positive light. “Does this have something to do with my birthday?” You fold your arms over your chest as one of your eyebrows rises in curiosity.

The tall guy only stares at you, no clear emotion on his face. “Oh god, he’s got a surprise for me!” your eyes sparkle at the realization, excitement dripping out of your body. You rush to the man’s side, looking directly at him with a pleading face. “Is he?” You insist, he just sighs “No, mister Singh is in an important meeting right now. He wants no disturbances.”

A disappointed look reaches your soft features, but it’s quickly replaced by a light smile. A new idea lighting up your brain. “Then I want to go” you let him know “He said no disturbances” you roll your eyes at his dismissive response.

“I am no disturbance, I’m his daughter” the statement is said with confidence.

“Besides, it’s been a long time since we had visits. I’m bored of seeing the same people… No offense!” You give the man your most apologetic look.

It was true, your father was a bit paranoid. Never allowing you to leave the house by yourself. Still, you had a limited list of places you could go to, one of them was the farm. A secluded space surrounded by nature, in which your only company was a bunch of bodyguards and some lovely animals.

“We have strict orders” another intimidating guy interrupted, joining the conversation. You let out a frustrated sigh, managing to whisper a small sorry for asking before heading back to your bedroom.

An hour has passed by, and all you could think of is your dad’s meeting. You roll back and forth on the queen size bed, the many ways in which you could escape this place clouding your mind.

Until you think of something, something that could work if you put on a decent acting.

It was a common thing. Calling your dad on your bodyguard’s phone was a common thing -taking in count you didn’t own one yourself-. And they barely asked to listen to the calls anyways.

“Sir!” You shout out from the open door, leaning onto the frame.

(…)

They looked at each other in confusion, looking at you walking around the kitchen as you held the device next to your ear, nodding at a nonexistent conversation. “I promise to be good, sir!….um-hum…Yes, I will wear something nice!” You smiled sheepishly at the guards.

After ‘hanging up’ you headed towards them, hopes up as you handed the phone. The men didn’t look that much convinced, scratching their heads in unison. “He said to hurry up!” You turned your back on them, running towards your closet.

You put on your favorite silk dress, paired up with your gold earrings. You rushed everyone to the truck, surprisingly they listened.

“I don’t know, man. We didn’t even get a message from the boss…I’m sure he would’ve let us know” he talked to his partner, hesitant on the sudden change of plans.

“You know Mr. Singh. He’s unpredictable” You said in his direction. “Besides, he sounded very urgent” you added, knowing that the guards never questioned your father.

“Alright” You finally heard the truck’s engine. A childish smirk decorating your face.

(…)

The last gate was open, revealing the big piece of land you called home. Men with guns and dogs with muzzles surrounded the house as always.

“Drop me here” you pointed at the main garden. The car stopped, and you were quick to reach the handle. “Wait” they paused your actions.

One of them got out of the truck. Politely, he opened the door for you, offering his tattooed arm for support. “Oh…mmmh, there’s no need to escort me there.” You laughed nervously, looking everywhere but his face. “I insist”

You sighed, allowing him to take you to the porch. Then, you freed yourself from his hold, taking big strides to the main entrance.

“What is she doing here?” The leader spoke, clearly confused about your presence. That was your sign, quickly opening the door and entering the cozy hallway.

You leaned onto the wood surface, scanning your surroundings.

“Y/n?” A deep voice called out, you flinched at that.

Carlos Singh was staring confusedly at you. Burning eyes making you regret your decision.

“Daddy, I…” He didn’t allow you to finish your sentence. “What the hell are you doing here?” He huffed in annoyance.

“…I” the creak of shoes against wood made you both look away.

There, at the top of the stairs was a handsome man. Looking intimidatingly huge.

“Mr. Cameron” your father addressed him with formality. The unknown man went down in confident steps.

You didn’t know why, but you were suddenly intrigued by his fresh presence. Tall with hard muscles and a tight jaw, he had dirty blonde hair and a youthful smile.

Yes, he was smiling like he just won the lottery. “Mr. Singh” You heard his voice, guttural but youthful at the same time.

The first person he approached was your father, shaking his hand as a sign of respect. Still, his eyes never left yours.

“And who is this beautiful lady?” He smirked, showing some teeth as he scanned you entirely. Your father coughed out his response “That’s my daughter” He signaled your way, presenting you in a proper way.

“Hello!” You spoke proudly, offering your hand to the guest. He took it happily, giving it a light squeeze.

You noticed his hand, some fingers decorated by silver rings and an expensive watch on his wrist. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Singh.” He took his time before letting you go, drinking in your features. “The pleasure is mine” Politeness was always taught to you, and you proved it to him by showing a nice smile.

After some small chat regarding the weather and other trivial stuff, the men decided to take a seat in the living room. You followed behind, still a bit hesitant on your father’s approval.

“Why don’t you sit next to Mr. Cameron?” Your father covered the chair in which you intended to sit down, signaling you to move somewhere else. You didn’t miss his mandatory tone.

You obeyed, taking a seat next to his possible business partner. Mister Cameron didn’t miss any of your moves, and that made you a little nervous, making you wonder if there was something wrong with your clothes or hair.

“Actually, why don’t you warm up for a little?… I need to attend something” Singh held his mobile on one hand, the screen lighting momentarily.

“Don’t worry, sir” You were quick to answer. Not missing the way he frowned at his mobile, seemingly disturbed by something. You shivered involuntarily, hoping that he came back in a better mood, just so he could spare you a bit.

Your father didn’t take long before leaving the room, taking one of his guards with him.

A silence prolonged itself in the room, making you turn the guest’s way. In a desperate attempt at making a good impression, you spoke, “so, where are you from? Where are you staying? Are you from the States? I want to study there!” You covered your mouth, embarrassed at the sudden outburst of words.

“I’m sorry” The blond only chuckled at this, seemingly fascinated by your attitude. “Yeah, I grew in the States” He replied proudly, relaxing on the chair while he lightly spread his legs.

“Nice!… Can I call you Rafe?” You were crossing a line, but he didn’t seem that old, and you were dying to make a friend. Even if the circumstances weren’t the most appropriate.

“Of course” He grinned along, sitting straight while he arranged his suit. Your smile grew wider, eyes sparkling at the newfound company.

“If you don’t mind, Rafe.. Why are you here?” You shrunk a bit, worried of being too much. But the blond didn’t seem intimidated at all by your curiosity. “Didn’t Singh tell you?” He rose an eyebrow.

“In all honesty” you whispered, looking everywhere to make sure no one was around. “I wasn’t supposed to be here” your face changed to a worried frown.

The blond was fascinated by your expressions. “Still, I’m glad I came” your mood changed drastically, smile returning to your face. “Because you seem different…not like the old and grumpy men who usually make deals with my dad” your brows wrinkled at the unpleasant reminder.

Rafe let out a loud chuckle at that, and you quickly felt bad for the mean remark. “Oh no, that’s not what I meant…I-I respect every business partner that my dad has” The blond noticed your embarrassed smile, and he laughed some more.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t tell anyone” The Cameron boy turned his neck to wink at you. You felt a sudden relieve, happy to deal with someone as easy going as him.

“Back to your question, let’s just say I have some sort of relic that your dad may like” The blond licked his lower lip.

“My dad loves old things!” You squeaked, almost jumping out of your seat. “Actually, he has this sculpture from a pre-columbian culture…well, it’s actually just a piece of it; he’s still looking for the rest. Anyways, he absolutely adores relics”

Rafe looked intently at you. “So, there’s definitely a big chance he might want to purchase a cross made out of gold, right?” You blinked curiously at him, lashes fluttering in a cute rhythm. “Hmm gold?…Probably yes! I mean, he’s been really fixated on El Dorado.” You looked up, trying to remember something else from your dad’s exhausting research.

“El what?” Rafe looked intrigued. “You know El Dorado, the city of Gold. Actually, the sculpture I was talking about” You leaned onto the chair’s arm, getting closer to the blond. “They say if you find the rest of it, you’ll have access to a bunch of gold!”

“That sounds like a made-up story” You could feel his warm breath against your face as he leaned extremely close. He had a bit of a mocking smirk on him, incredulous attitude making you shrink a bit. “My dad considers it to be pretty legit, trust me” Your eyes were wide open at that, adding a bit of dramatism to the statement.

“I trust you” the blond spoke with a light grin.

Your upper body was turned to the side, facing him in complete closeness. From this distance, you could admire his tough factions; broad shoulders, toned torso and strong arms, all constricted by a tight shirt.

“Well, I hope you both have a wonderful deal” The tension is broken by an unconscious act, lively mood returning to you.

“I hope that too, that way I can see you some more.” The Cameron Boy went back to his previous position, manspreading as he looked at you from the side.

A wave of warmness went down your spine, words making you feel a bit lightheaded. “That would be nice” a shy smile decorated your lips, as you sat straight on the elegant chair.

“Oh, I’m so rude” you jumped a bit. “I haven’t offered you anything to drink” your feet moved by itself, pulling you up. “My dad would be so disappointed on my horrible hospitality.” You chew your lip in anxiousness, hoping Rafe wouldn’t be too offended by your carelessness.

But he just chuckled deeply, the low laugh taking you by surprise. “I’m so-” he didn’t allow your apology to continue “Some scotch will do.”

You nodded frantically at that, turning your back on him and hurrying to your dad’s office.

Unknowingly to you, the Cameron boy intently looked at your back, a new emotion rooting itself on the pit of his stomach.

Meanwhile, you prepared the glass of liquor with much carefulness -making sure you made just as your father taught you-. “I’m almost done!” You shouted from the other room, receiving a light laugh from the guest.

“Here it is” you set it down on the wooden table. Standing still as you saw the blond taking a sip of it. His throat wobbles from the drink.

“It’s damn good” hoarse tone filling your ears with satisfaction. You giggled, proud of yourself.

Just as he took another sip, you noticed how his eyes darkened while he scanned you from head to toe, drinking in your presence slowly.

You felt a tad uncomfortable, not used to being stared at for too long. -Being the daughter of Mr. Singh meant everyone ran from you for no particular reason-.

“Sit” The blond tapped the chair in which you were previously seated. You complied, plopping by his side as he downed the drink.

You gasped as the last drop got lost on his throat. “Gotta get some courage, you know?” He looked at you right in the eye, you nodded. “Business isn’t easy” that took you by surprise. Rafe seemed like a very put together person, you didn’t visualize him in any other way than a clever man.

You tilted your head to the side, doe eyes looking expectantly at him. “First deal without my dad” you could see him getting a bit conflicted.

“I get it… I just don’t do much by myself” You fidgeted with your fingers. “Yeah” He gave a small chuckle, staring at your lap.

When you looked at him by the side, you noticed him holding the empty glass in one hand, drawing small circles in the air with it.

“Do you want me to show you the sculpture?” You spoke out in a rush. “Huh?” The blond got out of his trance, stopping the circles. “You know, the one who’s supposed to be the key to the treasure?” The words came out breathy as you lightly stood your shoulders up.

“Show me your lil’ artifact” and it didn’t take you long to come back with the piece of rock in hand.

“Look” You spoke joyfully, crossing one leg over the other as you waved the thing in front of the blond. “You see these drawings?” You pointed.

“Not with you being this damn far” You felt hotness all over your face “Well-“ but before you could continue, he grabbed the side of the chair, pulling it towards him. Effortlessly, you now faced him way closer.

You laughed carelessly, sensing his actions to be exclusively for playful matters. “Back to what I was saying-” once again you were interrupted.

“And what do you think you’re doing with that?” You froze on the spot. Listening to the harsh voice of your father never fails to put you on edge. “Hi there, sir” You turn your back slowly. “I…I just thought the guest might be interested in your relics” Your excuse didn’t seem to do much in calming down your enraged dad.

“You know, since he’s here to offer you one.” You gave him your sweetest smile, still, Singh didn’t lose time on roughly snatching the piece of history away from you. Leaving a burning sensation on your hands.

“You know how fragile these things are” He gave the figurine to the leader guard, making him disappear with it. “They have no business in your inexpert hands” You felt the shame wash over you, feeling like a scolded child. “Yes, sir.” You stared at your own hands on your lap.

“I was the one to ask. I just really wanted to see some of your collection.” You raised your gaze in surprise, looking at a standing Rafe. “I’ve heard you’re an impeccable collector.”

Your dad scoffed lowly, arranging his suit while he offered a polite smile to the blond. “Right, Mr. Cameron”

“Not trying to be impatient but I would really like to discuss the magnificent cross. I’ve heard you’re a big gold fan.” Rafe put one hand above the other while standing straight, looking like a real business man.

“Y/n, Victor will accompany you to your room” The guard appeared behind him, looking expectantly at you.

“Dad, I was thinking I could stick around. Maybe cook something, it’s almost dinner time!” Singh’s harsh look reflected the truth, you just needed to go.

“Come on, miss Singh” Victor spoke, inviting you to follow his lead into your chamber.

“Yes, Victor” You let it go, rising from your seat and directing towards the man. “See you around, Mr. Cameron” a hopeful smile sent his way. You received a slight nod from him, a hint of a smirk on his pink lips.

And as you climbed those stairs, you couldn’t help but feel an intense heat on your back.

(…)

“Victor, what is going on?” Your check was against the door, fingers turning white around the handle.

“Victor!” You shook the round thing in deep frustration but the man on the other side didn’t even make a sound.

You gave up, pulling away from the wood surface. Your feet moved on their own, anxiously taking you back and forth.

An hour has passed by since you were locked in your own bedroom. The only thing you could hear was the occasional scoffs from your uptight guard, that was until a series of shouting, screaming and grunting bleed clearly through the thick walls of your confinement.

A man cussed your father’s men, venom in his tongue as he demanded to be set free. The struggle was loud, your dad’s stern voice was also present, something about “just give me what I need and you’ll be alright” was said.

You got an idea. Your dad’s rough ways were never a secret; plenty of cuestionable tactics were always used to get what he wanted.

The Cameron boy had made the wrong move on your father’s eyes and you were truly sorry for him.

(…)

“Rafe” you were soft spoken, tone as soothing as it could possible be. “Psst, Rafe” You leaned closer to the air vent.

You were seated on the wooden floor, palms to the ground. “The fuck” You heard a distant grunt.

You called out again for him, this time a little bit louder. The Cameron boy said your name in a confused tone. “Yes! Oh god, I’m glad you’re alive”

A chuckle, a humorless chuckle was all you received from the dirty blond. “Yeah, not for long”

You shushed him, one hand on your chest. “Don’t say that!”

He scoffed at that, clearly unimpressed by your words. “What the hell happened? Why are you locked? What did you- I mean” you stumbled upon your words, anxiety present.

“Your dad is insane” He interrupted. You stayed silent at that. “Shit!” A loud bang resonated through your ears, the blond getting clearly desperate.

“He thinks I have some stupid diary that’ll take him to where the ‘city of gold’ is” The last part was said with aggressive mockery. He was certainly incredulous to Singh’s fixations.

“For god 's sake. He will surely do anything for that gold.” You shook your head in disapproval.

“No shit, now I’m gonna end three feet under ground” Bitterness was in his tone, you could sense it. That made you squeeze your brows together.

“We’ll find a way to get you out of here.” You didn’t know why you said that. You barely knew Rafe or his situation, still, you felt every single word with your bones.

(…)

The moon’s light was the only thing that kept you from tripping on the dark hallway. Every step you took made your heart beat faster, you couldn’t help it. Nervousness consuming you.

The floor finally stopped creaking once you reached the black door. Your fingers trembled as you looked for the keys on your nightdress pocket.

You cringed at the sound of the door unlocking. A deep breath was all you took as you carefully pushed the piece of wood.

You were barely inside the room when you felt a big force pushing you against the wall.

A pained moan escaped your lips as your back made an ugly sound at the impact.

You gasped when a huge palm reached for your throat. A hard squeeze was given, making you pull at the rough fingers that kept you enclosed.

“Ra-Rafe” your voice was airy and frail, almost like a dying whisper. The hand only pressed harder, you felt the oxygen leaving your lungs for a painful moment.

“Rafe” you pleaded again, this time gripping him harder.

“What are you doing here?” You inhaled with difficulty feeling suffocated both by the guy’s grasp and his now noticeable proximity.

Rafe stood centimeters away from you, his warm breath and strong cologne intoxicating the little air you were allowed to breathe.

The same free hand which closed the door was now circling your wrist. He leaned closer, strong build immobilizing your much smaller body.

“I- I just wanted to see how-how you were” Your eyes were starting to get teary. His only response was groan, followed by a light shake to your neck.

Your gasps were now weaker. “Please Rafe” You barely managed to let that out, still it seemed to work. The Cameron boy lightened his grasp, allowing the air to reach you.

You coughed uncontrollably, instinctively putting your hand on the boy’s hardened chest as a way of support.

He didn’t let you out completely, still cornering you with his whole weight. “I asked you a question” He spat in your face, no real sensibility for your clear pain.

“I told you. I-I want to help you” you voice wobbled as your eyes looked at his. The moonlight suddenly creeped on Rafe’s face, allowing you to look at his hardened features.

“Tch” He let out nonchalantly as he looked the other way, jaw tensing more. “You think I believe that line of shit? About how you’re on my side?” He let out all the air on his lungs, a mean grin on his lips.

“I promise you-” He stopped you right away, getting his chest out as he pushed you once again against the brick surface.

“Are you even his daughter?” His eyes roamed free on your frame, shamelessly scanning you.

You felt an inexplicable heat under your skin. “Yes, I am” you looked up at him with big scared eyes.

“Bullshit. You’re probably just a part of his fucked up plan” His body’s heat left you with abruptness as he pulled away, leaving you completely still.

He walked back, slow moves as he intensely stared at you. “Well. Flash news, sweetheart. I have no fucking idea where the diary is” He pressed his hands onto fists, tension clear.

“So you can tell Mr. Singh he’s made a big fucking mistake.”

Your breathing was starting to speed up. “Raf-”

“Shut up!”

You called out for him again, closing your eyes in fear as you remembered your time was limited.

“Please, don’t scream” Tears started falling down your cheeks as you hid in yourself.

“They’ll hear us” You pleaded. Rafe looked confused at that. “Drop the act” He demanded in an unsure tone.

“Please, you’re gonna get me in so much trouble.” You hear footsteps. “Huh?” He raised an eyebrow in angered doubt.

“You’ve got to trust me” You whispered his way, looking like a shy deer.

“This won’t work with-” He spoke without a single care, clenching his teeth while he let out the harsh words.

You rushed by his side, hanging by his forearms as you put a soft hand over his mouth.

Hot liquid was still pouring down your face as the house guards approached the second floor.

You squealed in anxiety as you heard Victor leaning against the entrance.

Rafe could feel you trembling like a scared mouse. His muscles relaxed at your sudden distress, a new sense of worried curiosity installing deep in his mind.

“Shit, calm down” He whispered back, given your altered state. “They cannot hear us. I’m sure” You couldn’t stop staring back, focused on the door. Prepared for the worst if anyone found out you were hidden in the guest’s room.

“Hey” Rafe reached out for your chin in a more delicate way. “Hey. Look at me” The change of emotions was insane.

Your despair felt pretty real as you stared right into his eyes. “You need to relax” He said slowly after he heard you cry out at a sudden noise coming from the hall.

You breathed deeply, focused on the blue irises in front of you. “How did you get in?”

“Midnight break” You spoke in a constricted voice.

“And when is their next break?” He shook you in his arms, trying to get a clearer response out of you.

“Early in the morning, they go to the bathroom” Your mind was less foggy than before.

“You’ll get out then”

“Rafe, I’m so sorry. I had no idea my father was going to do this. I was not trying to lure you in or-or-“ You broke a bit down again, leaning into his arms as you looked for forgiveness.

The blond shushed you in a soft way.

He found himself to be conflicted, pretty amused by the way you cried into his arms as you looked for some kind of comfort, acting like he didn't almost choke you to death some minutes before.

Maybe you were on his side after all.

A/N: Feedback is very much appreciated!

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daydreamtofiction · 11 months

Text

Malicious Compliance // Surgeon Strange x Reader

Masterlist | Request a Fic

Summary: After a brief meeting with the world renowned neurosurgeon Doctor Stephen Strange, he plans to make you his latest conquest. He’s only interested in one thing, but that’s okay, because so are you. (female reader)

Word Count: 4.6K

Warnings: Strong language, explicit sexual content, pre-sorcerer Strange (arrogant, cocky). Smut: no strings attached, dominance & praise, oral sex (receiving), light choking, unprotected sex (sort of?). Readers must be 18+

A/N: Just a quick lil oneshot for you all. I literally thought of this today and the whole thing poured out of me in one sitting lmao. I like it though, hope you guys do too!

His eyes are glaciers. Cold, hard, yet always moving. They flit towards the window, sunlight turning them the crispest blue, then back down to the notebook on the table in front of him. They warm slightly when he looks over to Doctor Palmer, roll languidly whenever Doctor West speaks. But in the end, they always seem to settle back on you.

He’s as hubristic as you’d expected; leant back in his chair, elbows on the armrests, taking up as much space as his body will allow. He corrects a colleague when they call him Stephen. It’s Doctor Strange, he says, voice so deep and rich it’s almost tangible.

He watches as you press your finger to the inner corner of your eye, trying to rub away the tired itch beginning to take root there. You wonder how offended he’d be if he knew you fell asleep reading one of his published papers last night, how you woke up in your hotel room this morning with your cheek pressed to page seventeen of The Strange Palmer Method. It would make his blood boil, you think, to know his work had been used as a pillow. You resist the urge to tell him.

Coffee burns the roof of your mouth. You wince and place the cup back down on the boardroom table, sift through the pile of papers in front of you as the room waits for you to speak again.

“Honey,” says Doctor Strange.

“I’m sorry?” you reply.

He points to your mouth. “It’ll help with that burn.”

You stare at him for a moment before shaking your head. “Oh I didn’t- It was just a little warmer than I expected. Thanks, though.”

The corner of his mouth curls and he turns to look down the length of the table, the flecks of silver at his temple catching in the light.

You clear your throat as you find the document you were looking for. “So, pending approval from the ABMS, we would like to roll out training for the Strange Palmer Method in all of our hospitals.”

“What about my new technique for stent placement?” asks Doctor West.

“Oh please, Nic,” Strange scoffs. “We’re talking about actual revolutionary surgical procedures here.”

Doctor West’s back straightens, you open your mouth to speak but he gets there first.

“Excuse me, my stent technique could drastically cut down the amount of time a patient’s brain is open on the table! Do you even realise-”

“Mhm, why don’t you go win some awards and make national news, then maybe we can talk.”

Doctor Palmer’s head falls into her hands as the other surgeons groan and shift uncomfortably in their seats. You’ve met your fair share of asshole surgeons in this job; travelling up and down the country stroking egos and exalting god complexes. But this man sitting across from you is, without a doubt, the victor of them all.

“The stent technique is very interesting,” you say, easing the tension in the room. “But we would need to see the results of a study or trial of some kind before taking it any further.”

“Very diplomatic of you,” says Strange.

“Not diplomatic. I just know a promising procedure when I see it.”

“Hm. Are you a doctor?”

Your gaze turns to a glare. “I am.”

“Where do you practice?”

“I don’t anymore. My job is to keep other doctors at the top of their game. Hence why I’m here right now with all of you.”

He’s almost smirking, head cocked slightly, twiddling a pen between his fingers. It’s fitting, you think, to see a surgeon take such pleasure in getting under people’s skin.

You hate that you find him attractive. That you’ve managed to fall victim to a charm buried so deep beneath layers of pure arrogance that you have to dig to find it. If he wasn’t so beautiful on the outside, you’re almost certain you wouldn’t bother fighting to find something redeemable within. But the way your body reacts to him; the warmth, the buzzing deep in your belly, it must be there.

The meeting finishes and you remain at the table, straightening the wad of papers in front of you and slotting them back into your binder as everyone filters out of the room. When you’re alone, you stand and walk to the large window, taking a moment to gaze out at the view. Your eyes skim New York City, admiring the blend of old and new; small stone buildings wedged between tall skyscrapers, the late afternoon sun glinting across metal and glass, pockets of green peppered amongst brick and mortar. You wish you got to come here more often.

You pick up your briefcase and drape your jacket over your arm as you make your way out of the boardroom. The corridor is bright and quiet, but the bustling of the hospital is a low hum. You close the door behind you and begin to walk, unfazed by the sight of a figure leaning against the wall up ahead.

His arms are folded over his broad chest, dark blue scrubs doing little for his tall, robust frame. His legs are crossed at the ankles as he rests his weight back against the wall, head stooped slightly, but his eyes are on you.

“Doctor Strange,” you say with a polite nod as you continue past him.

He smiles, allows you to pass, but you feel him move behind you.

“You don’t really think Doctor West’s procedure holds any merit?” he asks, catching up to walk at your side.

“I do.” You furrow your brow. “You don’t think there’s merit in improving the efficiency of existing surgeries?”

He shrugs. “Just not all that exciting when you compare it to what I’m doing.”

“You mean what you and Doctor Palmer are doing…”

There’s a chuckle deep in his throat, like he enjoys the back and forth, watching his opponents fight for their lives while to him it’s just a sparring match. He quickens his pace to slip in front of you, turning to face you and forcing you to halt in the middle of the corridor.

“Be honest,” he says. “You’re impressed.”

“Of course we’re impressed. Why else would the board have sent me here?”

“No I mean you, specifically.”

You glare up at him, hiding your amusement with an eye roll. “Yes, Doctor,” you say slowly, your words empty and biting. “I am very impressed.”

His cupid’s bow deepens as his lips curve into a self satisfied smile, lines forming in his cheeks and the corners of his eyes. He knows you find him infuriating, but it only seems to encourage him. There’s a moment of silence, long enough for his gaze to trail the length of you, just once.

“You know, I’d love to talk more with you about it,” he says, looking down at his obviously expensive watch. “Maybe over dinner. Have you eaten?”

You draw in a deep breath through your nose, letting it out in a sigh as you begin to speak. “I don’t need your superficial attempts to woo me, Doctor.” You reach into your briefcase and pull out a pen and a business card, scrawling on the back of it and handing it to him. “This is where I’m staying. Come by around eight.”

You’re certain he’s going to protest, pretend he actually wants to go to dinner, talk, that he was ever interested in anything that didn’t involve the removal of your clothes. You wait in suspense as his eyes flit down to the card in his hand, then back up to your face.

“I prefer to fuck in my own bed,” he says bluntly.

A wave crashes in your stomach, rushing down into your core, the sensation so strong and unexpected that your knees almost buckle. This isn’t the first time one of your work trips has ended in you going home with a surgeon, but the way this one doesn’t try to feign the ‘nice guy’, doesn’t pretend to want anything more from you than your body, that’s new.

“Unless I’m on vacation, of course,” he adds with a cocky smile.

“Of course…”

He flips the card over and plucks the pen from your hand. You watch as he scribbles on it and hands it back to you.

“So this is where I’ll be tonight,” he says. “You said eight works for you?”

You press your tongue to the inside of your cheek, unsure if you’ve ever met anyone as imperious as this. You slip the card into your pocket and move to walk past him, stopping as your shoulders brush and looking up at him.

“I hope your dick is as inflated as your ego.”

He smirks to himself, remaining quiet as you continue to walk away.

Your skirt is riding up your backside. You reach back to yank it down for the hundredth time before pressing the buzzer on the wall of the apartment building. The setting sun is just a glow beneath the horizon but the streets are still busy, the air warm with a pleasant breeze. You lean back to stare up at the building, the mirrored windows stretching so high you can’t see an end to them. You wonder which one is his.

There’s a scratching sound on the intercom, followed by a deep voice. “Yeah?”

“It’s me,” you say, glancing over your shoulders as if you’re on some kind of secret mission, scared of being seen.

He doesn’t speak again, instead there’s a quick buzz followed by the click of the heavy front door. You let yourself inside, heels clacking against the glossy marble floor as you hurry towards the elevators. When the doors slide open, you pull out your business card, punch in the floor number he’d scrawled in the bottom corner. It begins to ascend, making your already swirling stomach turn.

You pull down the back of your skirt again as you step out into the hall, peering down the length of it in search of his apartment. The door is tall and wide, dark timber and a heavy metallic handle. You knock but your knuckles barely make a sound, the dense wood swallowing the echo.

Still, he comes. You regard him quietly as you step inside, the snug sweater and tailored jeans, a pair of sneakers making you feel entirely overdressed. He’s already grinning; a smug, confident smile that reignites the ire in your chest. You ignore him and walk further in, eyes wide in awe at the vast, industrial space.

You walk over to the window that stretches the length of the apartment, floor to ceiling, wall to wall, framing a perfect snapshot of the city.

“Now I understand why you make the women come to you,” you say.

“Hm?”

“This place. It’s impressive.” You glance over your shoulder at him. “That’s the point, right? You like to impress. To show off.”

He laughs quietly and makes his way to the kitchen area, opening the extensive liquor cabinet. “You want something to drink?”

“I have rules,” you say abruptly, turning around to face him from across the echoey room.

He straightens. “Go on…��

“Nothing that happens here can be used for any type of professional leverage, good or bad, by either of us.”

“Of course-”

“This isn’t a date. I don’t spend the night, I don’t keep in touch, I don’t call when I’m back in town so we can do this again. This is just tonight. And it’s just sex. Understood?”

“Understood.” He returns to the cabinet and takes out a bottle. “So, about that drink…”

You’re already gone, wandering off through a door at the rear of the apartment in search of the bedroom.

You find it. It’s a dark, cave-like space, large curtains draped across another huge window, only the faintest glow of the sunset fighting through the fabric. It’s clinical, just as you’d expect from a surgeon; sleek furniture void of any clutter or knick knacks, exposed brick walls with the occasional piece of art - no photographs. There’s a full length mirror, a small couch, and a bed so large you could sink into it and disappear. You wonder just how many women have delved beneath those sheets before you.

He appears in the doorway, looking you up and down. “You’re eager, little one,” he teases.

You roll your eyes, watching as he closes the door behind him and approaches you. You reach up to touch him, to kiss him, but instead he takes your wrists in his hands and lowers them back to your sides.

“Mm, not yet.”

You scoff in dispute, eyes following him as he strolls across the room and switches on the wall sconces, illuminating the area above the bed in a dim, warm light.

“Look,” you say. “If you’re just going to mess with me then-”

“Well actually, after you left the hospital this afternoon, I got called to consult on a patient and ended up having to stay late. I just got home around fifteen minutes before you knocked on my door. So if you don’t mind, I would like to take a shower first. Is that alright with you?” he finishes sarcastically.

You settle down, composing yourself and relaxing your shoulders. “Of course.”

“Make yourself comfortable.”

He pushes open a door to the right and you catch a glimpse of the luxurious, marbled master bathroom as he steps inside. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone again. You stand there for a moment, listening to him whistling to himself, his belt buckle unfastening and hitting the floor. Water bursts from the shower, the sound like soft static, and you immediately rush over to the mirror.

You examine yourself carefully; fix your hair, press your nose to your skin and clothes, shift your underwear so it sits smoothly and undetectable beneath your skirt. Then you sit down at the foot of the bed, knee bouncing impatiently. You change your mind shortly after, moving to the small couch opposite the bed instead.

Ten minutes or so pass, but it feels like an eternity. You picture him drawing it out on purpose, working the lather into his skin one section at a time, scrubbing at his hair for much longer than necessary, just to make you sweat. The water shuts off and you listen to him singing to himself, the hum of his voice through the door. When the door finally opens, steam escapes into the bedroom, the rich smell of citrus and cedar filling the air as he walks out, still humming quietly.

You glance over at him, mouth falling open slightly to find him completely naked, your gaze falling immediately to the pronounced length hanging from his body as he pads across the room. You look away quickly, rolling your eyes and huffing with indignation. Of course he’s naked, you think, he likes to spar, and you’ve willingly stepped into the ring.

Droplets sit on his shoulders and roll down his torso as he moves around the bed. He climbs on and lays down right in the middle, hands resting behind his head, propped up slightly on the headboard. His hair is still damp, half-coiffed, the grey at his temples darker than it was before. His body is solid, the mystery beneath the scrubs now revealed to you in all its glory. His arms are thick as they flex either side of his head, divots of muscle creating shadows across his torso, cock resting proudly on his thigh as he parts his legs in wait. He’s exquisite, and you can’t help but bask in the sight.

“So,” he says casually. “Are you just going to stay over there looking at me? Or are you going to come and sit on my face?”

You glare at him, unamused.

“What?” he shrugs gently. “You’re the one that said this was strictly sex. Forgive me for abiding by your rules.”

“There’s a word for that, you know,” you reply. “Malicious compliance.”

“Mm, is it really malicious if I’m offering to eat you out?”

“Depends how good you are at it.”

“Come here and find out.” There’s no humour in his tone, but it’s still playful, like he’s goading you.

You stand up and take a step towards the bed.

“Clothes,” he demands.

You stop, pressing your lips together tightly. His eyes never leave you, remaining locked on yours as you kick off your shoes and untuck your top from the waistband of your skirt.

“They should study you,” you say.

“Study me?”

“Yeah.” You lift your top over your head and throw it to the floor, reaching down to unzip your skirt. “Look into how one singular person could possibly be such an ass.”

“Clearly there’s a part of you that likes it, y’know, since you’re here… taking your clothes off for me.”

“What can I say? I’m partial to a surgeon. Think it’s the hands.”

The skirt pools at your feet and you step out of it, extending your arms as if to say ‘ta da’. He smiles.

No one has ever looked at you like this. So intense, like he’s studying every inch; relishing in every freckle and blemish, every curve and crease, mapping out the places he plans to touch, taste, explore.

You continue towards him but he raises his palm, halting you again. “You haven’t finished,” he says.

You glance down at yourself, then back up to him, letting out a grumbling sigh as you reach behind you to unclasp your bra. It pops open, the release of pressure on your skin as soothing as a deep breath. His gaze darkens as you slide the straps off your shoulders, watching your nipples harden as you reveal your bare breasts to him.

“These too?” you ask, hooking your thumbs into the waistline of your underwear.

“Mhm.”

You take them off as gracefully as you can, shimmying them over your hips and thighs and kicking them away. His cock is hardening, swelling and rising towards his stomach. Your mouth twitches with a triumphant smile, but you suppress it as you climb onto the bed, crawling up to meet him.

You lean down and press your lips to his, feeling your skin prick, arousal kindling in your core. His mouth is smart, but it’s also divine. The feeling intensifies, spreading through your belly and pounding between your legs as you sweep your tongue into his open mouth, feel his restraint wavering as your hot breaths mingle. You let your chest press against his, the feeling of skin on skin making you burn with need.

You bring a hand up to his face, he brings his to your throat, bracketing it gently and peeling his mouth from yours.

“I didn’t tell you to kiss me,” he says quietly. “I told you to sit on my face.”

You pull back a little more, making eye contact, breathless as a million comebacks shutter through your mind. But in the end you say nothing, letting out a soft huff and slowly shifting your body up the bed.

You hold the top of the extravagant headboard with both hands and swing one leg over him, straddling his shoulders as his fingers reach up behind you to the small of your back. His touch is electric, lips searing as they plant a kiss on your inner thigh. A soft whimper escapes you in a breath, as though anticipation is its own foreplay.

He wraps his arms around the backs of your thighs and pulls you down onto his mouth. Your grip tightens on the headboard, fingernails digging into the soft, cushiony fabric as he parts his lips against your centre, sucking softly on your already throbbing clit. Your head falls back when his tongue drags up the length of your slit, moulding itself to every pucker and groove, lapping you up like he adores you, and you wonder how many women have fallen for him in these moments.

You groan quietly, closing your eyes as you focus on the flicks and strokes of his tongue, the sucking and swirling, the hums deep in his throat and he devours you. Your clit is sensitive, making you shudder, the pleasure so intense you can barely stand it. Your body raises up instinctively, but he tightens his hold on you, spitting on your clit and returning his mouth to the place that both aches and sings, somehow at the same time.

You gasp in response, eyelids fluttering as you swear under your breath. He releases one of your thighs and you glance over your shoulder to see his hand wrapping around his cock. He begins to stroke it forcefully, working himself to the rhythm of his mouth, and you almost fall to pieces.

“Oh my god,” you moan, slumping forward and pressing your forehead to the headboard.

Your thighs clamp around his head, but it only spurs him on, making him bury his face deeper, and you can’t remember the last time he came up for air.

“I can’t,” you whisper.

The nerves in your clit are screaming, dancing on the precipice between pain and pleasure. He continues to lap at your centre, pushing you to the edge until you’re clinging on for dear life. Pressure swells in your core, flooding you with a tingling heat that softens your bones and turns you to liquid. Until finally you’re there, falling, melting.

He growls as your body begins to shake, working his tongue over you one last time before releasing you from his grasp. You collapse next to him, sliding down the pillows until you’re lying at his side. You’re breathless, chest rising and falling heavily as you stare up at the ceiling.

He rolls onto his side to face you. “You’re quiet when you come,” he says, placing a kiss into the crook of your neck, another at the dip of your collarbone.

“I’ve spent the past two years practically living in hotel rooms,” you reply. “I’ve learned to be inconspicuous.”

“Hm.” He props himself up on his forearm and leans over you, his other hand trailing softly down the side of your body. “Let’s see if we can do something about that.”

Before you can reply, he’s kissing you. His mouth is slick, it tastes of you. Your body is spent, limbs heavy, yet still you find it responding to his touch. He shifts further onto you, spreading your legs with his hands and settling himself between them. You can feel his cock nudging your centre as he rocks his hips, sliding along the soaking wet mess he left there and brushing his head over your clit. It’s sensitive, raw, makes you gasp. But he swallows the sound with a heady kiss.

He’s big. Thick. Hard. Maybe that’s where he stores his arrogance. He continues to tease you, soaking himself in the mix of spit and slick as he wraps his hands around your neck, kisses you so deeply you can feel him drawing a moan from your throat.

He pulls away and looks down at you for a moment. “Condom?” he asks casually.

You’re on the pill. Have been since you were seventeen. But still, you know you should say yes. Yesterday, this man was a stranger; a face you only knew from TV and the medical articles you’d read.

“No.” You shake your head and reach down, gripping his cock and directing it into you.

He chuckles, the sound deep and low. “What a good girl.”

You sigh as he teases at your entrance, pushing the head of his cock in and out but never breaking all the way through.

“Were you thinking about this today in the meeting?” he taunts softly.

You groan and buck your hips, desperate for him to take you.

He eases back slightly and tuts. “I saw you squirming in your seat. How hot and flustered you got when I looked at you. Tell me how much you wanted this.”

“What I wanted,” you begin quietly. “Was to wring your neck.”

The corner of his mouth curls into a smirk. “Really…”

“Really.”

He squeezes his fingers gently around your throat and you exhale softly. The desire is almost painful, your core throbbing, pussy aching.

“Funny how things work out,” he says.

You let out a stifled moan as he sinks into you, filling you so completely you’re certain you can’t take it.

“That’s it,” he mutters as he looks down, watching his cock disappear all the way to the hilt.

You whimper and tighten around him. He sucks the air in through his teeth, returning his gaze to your eyes with a mischievous smile.

“I’m gonna need you to not do that,” he says. “You’ll have me finishing in seconds.”

“Are you telling me the great Doctor Stephen Strange lacks self discipline?” You contract your walls again, this time on purpose.

He bows, forehead resting on your chest, and growls deep in the back of his throat. Then suddenly, without warning, he draws his hips back and buries himself in you again. You gasp, fingers digging into the blades of his shoulders as he repeats his thrusts, building to a firm, steady rhythm.

A small cry escapes you; a sound you’ve never heard yourself make before. He hums in response, keeping you pinned to the bed with his hands around your neck as he snaps his hips, punishing you from the inside out.

“Wrap those legs around my back,” he demands.

You do as you’re told, locking your ankles and gasping as he sinks further, the head of his cock kissing the deepest parts of you and sending jolts of pure electricity through your stomach.

“You’re going to break me,” you whisper.

“Not this time. Maybe later,” he replies, still so arrogant it makes you want to reach up and slap him.

But your hands are stuck to his back, nails digging into the smooth, taut flesh. Another unfamiliar sound falls from your lips, somewhere between a grunt and a hum. He likes it, you can tell in the way he closes his eyes to compose himself.

“Jesus,” he hisses.

His movements begin to stutter and he rests his forehead against yours. You feel his cock throbbing, your pussy growing wetter until it’s dripping. He lets out a long, satisfied groan and begins to slow down, every rock of his hips like the promise of another climax.

“Don’t stop,” you whisper desperately. “Please don’t stop, I’m so close.”

He doesn’t open his eyes, but still he obliges; continuing to stroke into you as you squirm beneath him.

“Oh god,” you groan. “Harder. I need- harder.”

He grunts, screwing his eyes shut tightly, and begins pounding his cock into you with such force you can feel your body shifting up the mattress. You know he already came, you know how sensitive he must be. But somehow, knowing that makes this all the more delicious.

The electricity builds again, every thrust like a lightning strike through your core. Your legs begin to shake and you finally let go, giving in to the current and letting it course through you. Your orgasm is intense, sharp and tingly, making you shudder, body stiffening until it passes.

He slows to a stop, resting his full weight on top of you. You welcome the pressure, like a weighted blanket; warm and grounding, soothing the ache beginning to settle in your limbs.

After a few moments, he slides out of you carefully, rolling over to lie at your side. “You want that drink now?” he asks.

Hair sticks to your forehead with sweat, you brush it back, sucking in deep breaths as you stare up at the ceiling. “No, I’m good.”

Silence envelops you, neither one of you speaking again until your hearts stop thumping.

“So… I guess this means you’re going to approve the training for my method,” he says.

You turn your head, glaring at him in stunned silence.

“I’m kidding,” he says with a smile, greatly amusing himself.

“God, surgeons are assholes,” you mutter.

#doctor strange #doctor strange fanfiction #doctor strange smut #doctor strange x you #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange fanfiction #stephen strange smut #stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x you #stephen strange #surgeon strange #benedict cumberbatch #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #smut writing #lemon #Doctor strange oneshot

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morganski-19 · 5 months

Text

Steve is watching Robin. Not in like a creepy way, but in like an observant way. He's seeing her orbit around Nancy as they do various things. Constantly circling her, because she can't stand still and likes to walk when she talks, walking away slightly but then coming back into Nancy's space.

And Nancy's letting it happen. Learned to let Robin go and do her thing, Nancy turning her head to face Robin at the more important parts. To show that she's listening, but also not doing it constantly so she doesn't get dizzy.

It would be normal, except it isn't. Not when Robin starts to stutter when Nancy looks at her, and not when she actually stops talking for a second when Nancy touches her.

The thing about Robin is that she can talk and talk for hours on end without interruption. It's actually a skill that Steve admires half the time, letting her voice fill the space when his brain gets too busy with its own thoughts. But she never stops, not even when drugged in a Russian bunker, and not even when walking through an alternate dimension hellscape. are only two ways

There are only two things that get Robin to stop for a second before continuing again. Food. And a girl she's interested in.

And there's no food in sight.

A while later when Nancy leaves, Robin flops down on Steve's couch, taking up as much space as possible. Steve shoves her legs off of the cushion before sitting next to her.

"So, Nancy?" he asks casually.

Robin sits up so fast that she gets dizzy. "What about Nancy?"

Steve laughs. "I know when you like someone, Robin. How long?"

He tries not to make it accusatory because it's really not. He's only slightly offended that she didn't tell him, but can understand why she didn't.

"A few weeks, kinda also sort since spring break." She starts. "I'm so sorry. I know she's your ex and that has to be weird because I'm your best friend. And I promise if it is weird I will totally get shove it down and let it go. It's just another stupid crush that won't go anywhere anyway, she doesn't like girls, and I didn't even mean for it to happen. She's just such a badass that I think the wires in my brain got severed and connected wrong because she's your ex and I shouldn't like her but I do and I'm so sorry. I really didn't mean it."

"Robin, Rob. It's ok." He calms her. "I don't care. Well, I care because you're my best friend, but I don't care that she's my ex."

"You don't? Isn't there some sort of bro code or something that prevents this?"

Steve snorts. "No, not for us. If you like her, like her. I'll support it. You know that the whole spring break thing was a trauma-induced fluke in my system. I don't like her, and I don't care that you do."

Robin visibly deflates. "Oh thank god, I was so scared to tell you and you would freak out."

"Nothing you could ever do would freak me out. Within reason. There is one thing though."

"What?"

"I think you might have a chance with this one. I know how Nancy looks when she likes someone too, and it's pretty clear to me that she liked you."

Robin's face breaks out in a blush. "You think so?"

"I know so."

#platonic stobin #ronance #stranger things #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #ficlet #ronance ficlet #stranger things ficlet

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eoieopda · 1 year

Note

You said no more Hobi or Jin so:

Taehyung x fake marriage/marriage roleplay

Just don't tell anyone I made a Tae request lmaooooooo 🤣

moni, my love, i hate to break it to you, but….. the people know. they see you and they know.

the one with taehyung’s indecent proposal

pairing: kim taehyung x afab!reader type: drabble (smut, fluff) | rating: 18+ | wc: 1.4k au: fake relationship, fuck buddies to ? cw: oral sex (f), fingering, alcohol mention summary: your fuck buddy’s class reunion is coming up. that’s not something you expected to learn about. it’s definitely not something you expected to be implicated in. 🔞 minors & ageless blogs who interact with my content will be blocked. my stuff is not for you.

For whatever it’s worth, you consider yourself to be intuitive. It doesn’t take long for you to read a person, to start predicting their next moves with enough accuracy to spook yourself. You anticipate the direction their footsteps will take long before their feet hit the ground; and more often than not, you’re right.

But then you look at Kim Taehyung, and you can’t tell if you’re illiterate or if he’s illegible because you have never — not once — been able to tell what the fuck he’s up to. He exists outside the matrix, you think, vibrating on a frequency you may not be evolved enough to hear. His mind is flying ahead at warp speed, and you’re usually stuck staring at the sky, wondering where he’s zoomed off to.

That’s how you ended up where you are at this moment — in the metaphorical dust.

The way your head is spinning has a lot to do with where his head is, but you heard him. You know you heard him, and there’s no mistaking what he said, no matter how muffled his voice is.

With fistfuls of bedsheets, you lift your head from the pillows they’d just crashed back upon moments ago. Panting, you balk, “What?”

Taehyung pulls his face away from your cunt long enough for you to see his dark eyes brighten. Before he blinked, they were hazy with lust, and now — ?

Oh, god.

He licks remnants of you off his lips, and you forget what the fuck it was you were startled by.

“I said —” He clears his throat before repeating himself with a lazy, half-grin. “— Marry me.”

You blink at him. He blinks back at you.

One of you recalls that the two of you met at a party two (2) months ago and have kept semi-regular dick appointments in the time since. The other seems to have forgotten that, forgotten that this is the only context you know each other in: naked, sweat-slicked, and fuck-drunk.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Taehyung frowns. Then, to ease the tension between your raised eyebrows, he places an open-mouthed kiss at the very top of your inner thigh.

Like it’s all casual.

It’s supposed to be casual.

“You — ” You lose the next part of your sentence when he dives back into you, tongue so eager that it’s lapped up your words. You shake your head to clear it. Focus. “You want me to marry you? Taehyung, respectfully, what the — fuuuuck.”

Lost marbles scatter around your brain. There isn’t so much as a thought to stop them, just fireworks, echoing in the empty space. Relentless, Taehyung suckles hard against your clit, and you slump back fully against the mattress, groaning and gasping.

“What are you…?”

You give up when his tongue flattens, presses deep into your folds as he drags a thick, languid line up your center.

Words.

Words?

What even are those? Where can I acquire them?

Can I buy a vowel?

He laughs, like you’re the one making the joke. Above all, he seems confused by your confusion.

“Not for real,” Taehyung clarifies. He pauses to flick his tongue against your swollen bud, leaving you twitching where you lay. “Just for a night. Gotta class reunion I have to go to and I, uhhh…”

“Holy shit,” you wail as his middle digit slips in to fill the void his mouth left behind.

The assault on your g-spot is fastidious and unrelenting, in total juxtaposition to the way he speaks. Casual and confoundingly chipper. If he wasn’t two knuckles deep, his tone might indicate that he was talking about his latest trip to the grocery store, or a movie he’d just seen.

Taehyung barely reacts to the way you clench around one finger; he certainly doesn’t bat an eye when he adds a second. Instead, he smiles sheepishly.

Bashful? At a time like this?

“I may have told some of my old teammates that I was married.” He shrugs. “But, hey, if you saw the shit they’ve accomplished so far in life, you wouldn’t blame me for trying to save face somehow.”

Well.

You sought an explanation, and you received one. What did you expect?

“T-teammates?” You mutter as he curls his finger upwards, rubbing so painfully perfect where you need the friction most. “W-what sport?”

Why are you making small talk right now?

Taehyung grins at the interest you’ve displayed; it’s the first time you’ve ever discussed hobbies. You can’t unpack that because your back is arching up off the mattress like he’s conducting an exorcism, not finger-fucking you to the brink of collapse. Worst of all, there’s no effort showing on his face. No acknowledgement in his sparkling eyes that he’s ruining you, with only one hand.

“Soccer,” he replies easily.

You squeak, “Oh, that’s nice,” and then your stream of consciousness sends you barreling over the waterfall.

Convulsing, you cum so hard that your vision turns to static. Writhing and whimpering, you have to clamp your knees together to combat the overstimulation he’s — either knowingly or unknowingly, hard to say — dragged you towards.

When your limbs stop tingling, you scoot over to make room for him beside you on the bed. He drops himself into the space you’ve created, one arm tucked under his head and the other snaking its way under your neck. You accept his bicep as a pillow for your heavy head, and then you tilt it to stare up at him.

“So, what? You said you were married, and everyone else you asked to be your fake spouse said no,” you assume.

Of course, as his biweekly fuck buddy, you wouldn’t be the first one on his list. You wonder how many other people he’d asked ahead of you, and if the offer only crossed his mind when they were squirming, naked, right in front of him.

Taehyung snorts. “Better get me an ice pack for the bruised ego.” He scrubs his free hand over his face as he laughs. “You really think I’ve been shot down that many times?”

You don’t know what to do with this statement, so you furrow your eyebrows. He finally looks at you, and once again, he’s shy.

Either those are butterflies in your stomach, or your body is trying to remind you to flush out your bladder. Either way, you ignore the sensation. Elbowing him gently, you try to nudge loose whatever words are caught in his mouth.

“Might’ve dropped your name, specifically,” he admits with a grimace. He misreads the stunned look on your face as something else — offense or annoyance, maybe — because he continues quickly, “You were just the first person that came to mind, I dunno. Would’ve been easier if my lie wasn’t so… detailed.”

You can’t help but warble: “Aww, Taehyungie wants to fake marry me?”

He knocks your shoulder with his to hide how red his cheeks have gone.

—

“Does this look as bad as I think it does?” You mutter as you run your hands down the skirt of your dress for the hundredth time.

Taehyung gulps the remainder of his beer and sets the empty pint glass down against the bar. Hand now free, he grabs yours and holds it hostage. Affectionately — not annoyed by your fidgeting the way you yourself are. And he ignores your question. He should, after all; he’s told you two hundred times that you look pretty.

Pretty.

That stupid word has you tickled pink, which is ridiculous.

Ridiculous and pretty.

The brief nod of his head towards the doorway catches your attention. You follow his eyes to the other end of the hotel ballroom where a group of gorgeous men and their objectively more gorgeous wives cross the threshold.

“Damn, TaeTae’s all grown up!” The tall one shouts through cupped hands, even though he’s only a few meters away.

Your eyes shift upwards to Taehyung’s face. His boxy grin doesn’t quite meet his eyes; and he looks down at you as if he’s silently asking you to bolt with him out the back door.

You snort, voice low. “TaeTae?”

“Don’t,” he pleads. And he must be settling into character because he leans down to kiss your temple. Lips still near your ear, he whispers, “We may be pushing thirty, but I guarantee they’re still not above a titty-twister if I push back on it.”

You wiggle your eyebrows. “Kinky.”

And, just for a second, that fond look in his eye makes you forget that this is a hoax. So does that laugh as he shakes his head, the one that silently says, “oh, you.”

The stocky one is beaming when the group finally reaches you. He eyes you up and down with an amazed — albeit not inherently gross — whistle. He laughs as he claps Taehyung on the shoulder. “And he wasn’t exaggerating! Traded in those too-big ears for a smoke show, didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember saying the bit about the ears, but the rest is accurate.” Taehyung shoots you a wink that reads authentic. He squeezes your hand and your swooning heart, too. “Couldn’t have picked better if I tried.”

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vemaro · 5 months

Text

alone again

[PART 1]

This is the next part!

Summary: Tav can’t deny her own eagerness to reunite with everyone. She’s missed them all dearly. It’s been years since so many of them have been in the city concurrently, not since the final fight against the Elder Brain. Lae’zel immediately ran into a battle to save her people from Vlaakith. Wyll and Karlach went to Avernus. Gale stayed behind for a little while, but eventually left for a position at Blackstaff Academy. Astarion is no longer safe from the sun so he went into the Underdark. Shadowheart stayed the longest, but she too ventured out of the city, following Aylin and Isobel.

She considered asking to tag along with someone, but she felt it wasn’t her place to insert herself into their lives. If they wanted her around, surely they would’ve invited her … right?

Pairing: Astarion x Tav (female Tav)

Word Count: ~1000

Notes: This is set in the same universe as my last fic. I’m planning on about three parts. Enjoy:D

…

The door to her bedroom opens, and without a proceeding knock. There’s only one person who forgoes such a courtesy. “Yes, Terrick?” He doesn’t fully enter the room, but she can feel his gaze on her back. One, two, three minutes of silence pass before Tav closes her wardrobe and turns around. He’s still just standing there with this scrutinizing expression on his face. If nothing else, Tav is a patient woman, so she continues getting ready.

Naturally, that is when he speaks up. “That’s not the dress I picked out for you.”

She pauses right in front of the bed. It takes every ounce of her willpower not to sigh. “I know.”

But he presses on. “Are you going to change?”

Breathe. Just breathe. But don’t sigh. Don’t give him the satisfaction. “No, Terrick. This is what I’m wearing.”

He finally walks in only to stand in front of her vanity. “At least put on a dress,” he says, adjusting his cravat.

Tav plops herself on top of her bed and crosses one leg over the other. “I will if you will.”

He doesn’t look away from his reflection. The man keeps working on that damn cravat. “For the gods’ sake, can you please not make this harder than need be?”

She rolls her eyes. “Can you allow me some comfort while in public? Most of the dresses I have are too tight.”

Terrick scoffs. “Then lose some weight.”

Tav wouldn’t describe herself as overly confident in her appearance. However, she is content. Growing up on the streets as a child, looks didn’t matter all that much. And then after joining the enclave, she was taught inner beauty was of more import than physical beauty. As an adventurer, as long as she was alive and well, that’s good enough for her. Yet holy hells, did that scathing remark almost make her convert into a Bhaal worshiper.

The druid doesn’t miss a beat with a quip of her own. “Awe. Concerned you don’t take up enough space in pictures?” She speaks in a cooing voice that drips with condescension. “Don’t worry, husband dear, I will happily step aside so you can have all of the spotlight.” The last thing she wants is to be in the Mouth anyway.

He whips around to leer at her. “I’ll have you know—”

She’s not through. “Oh, but you’re not the reason the journalists come to these events. I am. The people want to see the Hero of Faerûn on the front page, not some glorified Baldurian socialite.”

“A socialite?” Terrick goes so red in the face, he puts Karlach to shame.

She rises to her feet, refusing to let him stand over her. “What else do you call a man who lives off his family’s fortune while floating from party to party?”

Any more pressure in his head, and the man’s eyeballs would pop clear out. “How dare you?” he snaps, b-lining towards her. “I’m the only reason you’re able to start your little projects. Your schools, your food banks, your clinics; they’re all possible through my family’s name and wealth. Without me, you’d be nothing.”

Actually, she’d still be the Hero of Faerûn, but Tav bites her tongue. By now, she was far too used to him lording his status over her head. They’ve had this argument numerous times and she’s so tired. If she said that thought out loud, it would eventually end with her pompous husband threatening to end their arrangement. Tav would be out on the streets, which isn’t too much of a concern. She’s no longer a small defenseless child with no way of earning money. She’s wholly capable of enduring hardship, homelessness included.

But it wasn’t just about her anymore.

She has a son; Callum, who is a small defenseless child. Terrick may or may not keep Callum. He doesn’t care for him like she does, but she wouldn’t put it past the bastard to use him as a bargaining chip. But if they both ended up on the streets, there’s no guarantee gold would come her way, even with the title of Hero. And she couldn’t burden her friends with her problems.

So Tav stays.

And Tav bites her tongue again and again.

And Tav prays for the days when Terrick is out of the house.

Breathe, don’t sigh. “I’m sorry, Terrick.” She bows her head slightly. “You’re right. My comment was … out of line. Please forgive me.”

“I suppose.” He squares his shoulders and clears his throat. “See to it that it doesn’t happen again.”

It most certainly will happen again. “Of course.”

“Now put on the damn dress I picked out, wife.” When Terrick invokes that title, it’s like a curse, something akin to a Dominate spell. It makes her skin crawl.

“Yes, husband,” she responds.

Placated for now, he nods once more then rushes for the door. Just before exiting the room, he throws out one last command over his shoulder. “And do check on the boy. Last outing, he was rather irritable.”

Tav grits her teeth. Callum was sick during their last outing, just coming down from the flu. She offered to stay home with him, but Terrick demanded otherwise. The poor thing was miserable the whole afternoon, constantly coughing, sneezing, and sniffling. Breathe. In and out. Or else Bhaal may have a new follower by nightfall. She forces a smile onto her face. “Yes, Terrick. In a moment then.”

“Thank you.” And he slams the door shut.

Now that she’s alone at last, she finally lets out the heavy sigh she’s been holding in.

By some miracle of the gods, the grand opening of the new food bank goes off without a hitch. Speeches are made, the people seem receptive, and Tav doesn’t pass out due to her constricting clothes. All in all, today can be chalked up as a success. What brings her true happiness though, isn’t the praise from the crowd or the pride of a job well done. No, it’s the sight of some familiar faces scattered amongst the crowd.

Wyll. Gale. Karlach. Lae’zel. Shadowheart. Astarion.

She’s so very happy they’re all here for her.

But also incredibly sad because they may be here now, but they’ll all inevitably leave again.

…

Thanks for reading!

#bg3 #astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #bg3 tav #tavstarion #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #vemaro

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tallymonster · 7 months

Text

Memories of Us Chapter 4

Chapter list (1) (2) (3)

I have no clue what to even say, all the support, reblogs, and comments from everyone who has been reading this beautiful thing I've had in my daydreams has been pretty amazing. I can't thank you all enough 💕

Summary: Octavia has a little mess to clean up.

As always, thanks goes to my beta and best friend @micropoe10 . She's the driving force behind this idea because she kept telling me how good it was. So thanks, I owe you many lol.

Inspired by @cheesy-cryptid 's piece of fan art that buried itself in my brain and kept telling me what to write.

Chapter 4

"sleep til the sun burns out"

The next morning, Gale walks up to his shared office. Octavia should have already begun on the last of their tasks. At least a month of work finally coming to an end. They decided early on to share the office he had, after all one person doesn't need that much space to themselves. As he fumbles with the door, Astarion stops him. "Ah! My favorite assistant! Good morning Gale. I trust that you and our dear Octavia are prepared for the opening?"

Gale enthusiastically nods. The coffees he's got stacked on top of his pile of books are slightly shaking. He catches himself against the door and steadies the drinks, "Oh most definitely. Octavia has been staying after hours a few nights, at her insistence mind you, and she's incredible! She did at least three days of work in only half the time! I don't know what I would do without her at this point."

A small blush lands on his cheeks and he clears his throat. "Thank you for trusting me to bring her on board, she's a wonderful addition." Gale smiles awkwardly as Astarion gets in front of him and takes the cups. "Let me hold this for you before you wear this instead of your dashing sweater." Gale's shoulders fall a bit and he rolls his eyes.

They walk into the office to see a gigantic mess. Books, paperwork, pens, all matter of snack foods and energy potions surround Octavia and Gale's combined desks. "Octavia? Are you...?" Gale places his books on the desk softly, meanwhile Astarion places the cups down, picks up a book, and slams it on the table in front of her.

"I'M AWAKE! I'M HERE!!" Octavia springs up, a small note stuck to her cheek. She looks around bleary-eyed and rubs her face, as the room comes into focus, two faces come into view. Gale, and...OH SHIT. "MR. ANCUNIN! GOOD MORNING!!!"

She looks around and sees the mess left behind, quickly fixing her hair and ripping the note off her face. "I'm sorry, I didn't know" Gale mouths to her, he hands her the coffee and begins to gather the room. She puts her face in her arms and hides into the desktop. Thoroughly embarrassed, she lifts her head and looks at Astarion. "Good morning...sorry...I just really wanted to be done, and good news. It's done." She takes a lazy swig of her drink.

Astarion yawns and sips a bit from Gale's cup, coughing dramatically."Gods! How many sugars do you add to this?! This tastes absolutely vile!" He makes a disgusted face and places the cup back on the desk.

"Please tell me you aren't one of those people who asks for the drink with the longest name just to feel important?" He huffs, rolling his head to the side. "I'm not sure how to react to that." Octavia states, she looks down at the pile of papers Gale has already gathered.

She gets up to help, but Astarion stops her. "There's actually a reason I came by to see you both. Something that will pique both of your interests." Gale shoots him a suspicious glare, "What have you done now?" Astarion smiles and places down a well worn book, its black and red cover fraying like it's about to disintegrate if you sneeze in its direction.

"While I was away in the Underdark, I met with a lovely mind flayer and hobgoblin who had all kinds of interesting rare artifacts. One of which was this very book. They told me that this was procured during the siege on the Szarr estate, I'm hoping that it has more insight into our mysterious subject."

He slides the book over in between Octavia and Gale. "I'd love for the pair of you to tackle this long game Gale has played by himself. Octavia, your dedication to our last project surely landed you the task of caring for this book. Not a soul is to even breathe on it. That means you too, Gale."

He tilts his gaze over to Gale who scoffs a little at the notion that he can't read this book. "No offense, dearest Gale, I just don't want it leaving this office and we all know how you like to take work home." He pats Gale on the shoulder as he turns to leave the shared space.

"Also, one last thing. No more overnights, Octavia. You need your beauty rest, my darling. I've told you once before.." he leans in close to Octavia's left side and softly speaks near her ear "Can't have that beautiful mind of yours working too much, you'll turn into Gale, and I feel like you're far too much fun for that, hmm?"

She turns to him, their faces a few inches from each other. He's slightly taller than her, but in this closeness, he feels ten feet tall. His eyes hidden again behind pitch black lenses pierce through her, and the previous chill builds in her core, a shudder escapes her lips as the flush creeps onto her face. "Of course, sir, no more overnights."

She keeps her gaze on the glasses, her own eyes watching in return. She sees the vulpine expression start on his lips "Octavia, what have I told you about calling me 'sir'? We're in private chambers, not the atrium. Live a little, dearest." His voice dripped with suggestive candor.

Octavia on the other hand, was melting into the floor underneath her in return. She's never been around someone so well spoken, and it's pretty intimidating. "Of course....Astarion. I will go home tonight and sleep in my bed, not on my desk." She smiles timidly, back up at her as she looks towards him. "Wonderful, glad to hear it."

Astarion turns quickly on his heels, he must have somewhere to be. Octavia turns to Gale, an incredulous look on his face. "So he wants you to rest but he gives you another gargantuan responsibility to fulfill? I don't get that man sometimes." He shakes his head and keeps filing away paperwork.

—--------------------------------------------------

Later on, Octavia finalizes the displays and wanders back to her office. The last of the visitors are filing out, their dull rumblings and soft murmurs keep her company for a moment. As she turns the corner, mind elsewhere, she doesn't notice the person in front of her until it's too late.

The shock is like walking into a wall, her little pad falls to the floor and her forehead starts to feel warm. "You know, we really have to stop running into each other like this" there's a tiny sarcastic laugh behind the statement.

Astarion was standing in front of her and Gale's office holding two black envelopes adorned with silver writing. One for Gale and the other for her. "I meant to give this to you earlier. Before we got caught up in…all that…" he grimaces towards the office.

"Anyway, we're having a little party here for the board members, staff, beneficiaries, pretty much anyone who wants to have their name on a wing or a bench. I came to give you and Gale your invitations but you were both gone. Figured you actually listened to me for once." He shrugs loosely, picks up Octavia's notepad, and hands it back to her along with the envelope.

The black matte paper was smooth in her hands, her name embossed in silver leaf. She flips over the envelope and sees a silver wax seal with a Sharran symbol stamped in the middle. "Spared no expense, huh?" She remarks as she opens it.

"No, of course not. How do you think we pay for all the exhibits? We have to wine and dine these benevolent people to give us more gold to cover what I spent trying to convince other people to let me have their pretty little treasures they kept in dilapidated, crumbling, piles of rubble and bone for two hundred years." Astarion rambles sardonically, waving his hands as he rounds off. "That's all in a day's work for me. Having to put on airs to impress people who wouldn't even give me a second glance had I not worked my way up to where I am now. I've been one with the shadows for as long I can remember."

His voice lowers, a forlorn twinge to his words. "Having to sort through rushed, sloppy graves. You almost feel sorry for the corpses, I think I do. Hmm. Nevermind any of that. There's a dress code by the way. Black preferably. Spend some of that graduation money you mentioned and get yourself something nice."

He brushes some hair off Octavia's shoulder, his hand lingers there for a bit. She stares at his hand there and looks back at him, wide eyed. "You deserve it after all." He takes his hand off, placing both his arms behind his back. "Well I'm off. Looks like I'll have to look for Gale at his place. I'll see you there, dearest."

Tag list (thank you 🥹❤️, if you want to join, please let me know!) : @satanicspinosaurus @sleepy-timaeus @justporo

#bg3 #astarion #baldur's gate 3 #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 astarion #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #astarion bg3 #bg3 gale #fanfic #headcanon au #fic: memories of us #my fic

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roses-for-rosalyn · 1 year

Text

Movie Lovers

Hello lovie dovies I have been gone for mad long because of college stuff, but also because I'm working on a longer fic 🤭. I wanted to keep y'all fed though so here's an Ellie blurb. Count how many times I wrote movies challenge! (Also there's 20 people following me that's crazy ya'll are amazing)

Minors DNI pls 🔞

word count: 1.9 k

proofread to the best of my ability

content warnings: a wee bit of friends to lovers, dirty talk, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), pet names, lots of foreplay, teasing, cuddling, reader who overthinks, and as always no use of y/n

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

Watching movies is the best pass time. It was your favorite thing to do because it was one of the few things that got your brain to slow down. You could get completely absorbed in another world for just a little while. It's even better with friends because you can talk about it afterward or even during. You didn't have to stress about anything outside of what was playing in front of you.

Your favorite person to watch movies with was your best friend Ellie. Ellie loved film just as much as you. You could talk about movies for hours with her if you wanted to. It was something you bonded over and the reason you became friends. You really liked Ellie you had known her for a while now. You might like her a little too much.

You liked the way every time she touched you it felt electric. She could give you butterflies just by talking. One time when you both were watching something together Ellie started to slowly move closer to you. You were sitting up with your legs in front of you propped up on an ottoman, and Ellie moved so her head was on your shoulder and your legs were intertwined. She just stayed there. For the rest of the movie. You couldn't remember what you were watching that night if your life depended on it. All you could focus on it how Ellies arm was strung behind your back and how warm she felt against you. You could feel yourself grow embarrassingly wet at the slight contact with her and you had to kick her out early. You made up some excuse about how you had to get up early.

This was the first movie night you'd had since that interaction. You were nervous about not being able to control yourself in front of Ellie. It wasn't fair to her, she was your friend, it wasn't her problem that you were attracted to her. You felt guilty and if she ever found out she might think that was the only reason you were nice to her.

You hear a knock at the door that snaps you out of your thoughts. You walk to the door to greet Ellie, praying you can keep it together. You open the door and there she is, standing there in her usual T-shirt and flannel pajama pants. You both agreed a while ago to just wear pajamas for movie night. Why did she have to look so good in pajamas?

You manage to blurt out a "hi!"

"Hey." she replies, smiling a little at your clear excitement.

"I've got the movie all ready to go." you say as you turn to let Ellie in.

"Very exciting. What did you decide for tonight?" she asks while walking past you, taking off her shoes and making a beeline to the couch. You close the door and follow her.

"Kick-ass." you say. You had both already seen it, but it was one of your favorites. No thinking required, plus it was kind of funny. You sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Ellie.

"Ah good choice. I could use a brainless type movie right about now." She immediately moves so your thighs are touching, ignoring your effort to put space between you two.

"Actually, do you mind if we lay down to watch this? I'm so exhausted I can barely see straight." Ellie suggests. That would mean either you sit on the floor or she would literally have to spoon you. Oh god.

"Ok but then where would I sit?" you ask. You have no idea what answer you're hoping for.

"Just lay down in front of me. We can cuddle up, there's plenty of room." There was indeed not plenty of room. Plenty of room would mean that every part of you wouldn't be touching Ellie. Plenty of room would not mean that Ellie's arm would be draped around you.

"Alright." you reply with a small laugh, ignoring every thought in your head right now. You stand up to allow Ellie to lay on her side, putting her head on a throw pillow resting on the arm of the couch. You grab the remote and press play before laying down in front of her. Ellie drapes her arm around you and places her hand comfortably on your stomach. Eventually she starts gently scratching you stomach moving her hand in circles. She would move her hand slowly up just below your breasts and back down right below your belly button. Just above and below where you really wanted them. She was teasing you and it almost felt intentional. The way her hand would sometimes go too high and graze your under-boob or too low and barely touch the hem of your shorts. Your breathing unintentionally starts to get heavier and Ellie notices.

"Something wrong?" She whispers.

"No, no I'm-" She touches the hem of your shorts again and you sharply inhale. "I'm fine."

"Ok, whatever you say." She replies, and you can almost hear the smugness in her voice. You're starting to think she's doing this on purpose.

A few more minutes go by and it's agony. You can't focus on anything except for the feeling of Ellies nails softly scratching your stomach. She wasn't even touching you directly and she was driving you insane. You're not sure how much more you can take.

Just when your about to get up to go to the bathroom to try and escape her touch, Ellie breaks the silence.

"I need to tell you something."

"Yeah?" You have no idea where this is going, but at least her hand has stilled for the moment.

"I like you."

"Yeah well I like you too, that's why I invite you over." You let out a nervous laugh. Hoping to deflect to conversation from going where you think it's going. Ellie props herself up on her elbow so she's laying about you, lightly grabs your jaw and turns your head to face her.

"No, I like you, like, a lot." She says, and you can tell by the way she's looking at you exactly what she means. This has to be a dream.

"I like you too, like a lot." Ellie looks like she wants to devour you. Instead she lays back down, keeping her head slightly above yours.

"I want to try something, if you want me to stop just tell me." You nod eagerly, hoping it has something to do with getting rid of the ache that's been growing between your legs for an hour now.

"Words pretty girl." Oh god that nickname.

"Yes, yes." you say breathlessly.

"Ok, and you have to promise to keep paying attention to the movie. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes." You say, a little confused, but Ellie could ask you to eat dirt right now and you would do it happily.

Her hand travels underneath your t-shirt, snaking it's way up to your boobs. She starts massaging the skin and lightly pinches at your nipple causing you to let out a small gasp. She moves to the other breast and does the same. She takes her hand out from under your shirt to prop herself up on her elbow. She grabs the hem of your shirt and starts pulling it up slowly causing you to be exposed to the chilly air in your apartment. She moves her hand down to the hem of your shorts and places her fingers underneath the elastic, moving them back and fourth a few times before slowly moving the waistband down. She moves her hand down under your shorts and cups your aching cunt and you gasp.

"You've been waiting for this huh?" You're a little embarrassed she can feel you leaking through your underwear, but you're too wound up to care. "I barely did anything and you're this wound up? Poor thing." She says with mock sympathy. "I promise I'll make it up to you." She whispers before moving her hand up under your underwear and onto your bare pussy. She takes her middle finger and drags it up your slit, and you immediately let out a quiet moan when she reaches your clit. Your eyes start to close from how amazing you feel when Ellie grabs your jaw and turns it towards her.

"Uh, uh," she tuts "watch the movie for me princess." You groan a little, but obey her request, since she's rewarding you so well.

Ellie starts drawing lazy circles around your clit. She does this until your bucking your hips towards her silently begging her to do something, anything more.

"What's wrong pretty girl? What do you need?" She asks smugly.

"More," yeah breathe out "Please."

Ellie lets out a small laugh "Since you asked so nicely."

She starts moving her finger in fast tight circles and you can't help but let out a moan at the new sensation.

"God I've barely touched you and you're already a mess. You're doing so well for me princess." The praise almost sends you over the edge, but then she slows down her movements. Her finger starts to move down to your entrance, slowly circling it before moving in deeper. She curls her finger upwards and you let out moan. She starts moving her finger in and out before adding a second causing you to cry out "Oh god Ellie."

"I know baby, just relax, I got you." She starts moving her fingers faster hitting that heavenly spot over and over, just when you're sure this is the most pleasure you've ever felt in your life Ellie surprises you. She sits up further and lays you down flat. She removes her fingers and you let out a whine. She kneels between your legs and moves your shorts and underwear to the side. Ellie lays on her stomach and grabs your legs so your knees are bent. Ellie's mouth is inches from your cunt, your thighs are framing her face and you can feel her breath on your clit. The image itself almost does you in. Ellie licks a stripe up your cunt and you let out a loud moan. She starts circling her tongue around you clit just as she inserts one finger into your entrance. It slide in with no resistance and then she adds another. She curls her fingers upwards once again and continues sucking and lapping at your clit. You can't help but moan every time she inserts her fingers. Your loud reaction only seemed to encourage her. She started fucking you faster and harder with her fingers. You could feel the pleasure building up inside of you, fast.

"Ellie I'm gonna-" Just when you were about to finish your sentence a blinding pleasure takes over your body causing you to buck you hips upward. You hands start clawing at the couch cushions begging for something to grab as Ellie fucks you through it. The waves of pleasure were unlike anything you'd felt before. It felt so good it almost hurt.

You slowly come down from your high and Ellie slows down her fingers and pulls them out of you. You can't move, you can't even think. You've never been this blissed out in your life. It was amazing.

Ellie makes her way up to meet your eyes and kisses you. She kisses you along your jaw, she kisses your nose, your eyebrows. "I think," She says in between kisses "We found something to do together besides watch movies."

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

This ended up being way longer than I intended, but what can I say I can't do smut without a backstory. I hope ya'll enjoyed it and let me know if there's anything specific you want to see me write! After that go to sleep I know for a fact it is very late.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #the last of us ellie #tlou #tlou 2 ellie #tlou smut #smut #cuddling and touching

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queseraone · 4 months

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Because I'm a rascal, but also because I really enjoyed the last round of questions: your favorite Chenford *scene* from each season. Only one scene (plus one honorable mention) allowed per season!

Rascal seems like a bit of an understatement!!! The way my brain broke reading this...

This was an interesting exercise. Some were super easy to answer, and some I stewed over for a long time... and I surprised myself with some of my picks actually!

Season 1 This was tricky, but I have to give it to the between-the-wall heart-to-heart in 1x20. The vulnerability is just next level, and this scene is iconic for a reason. I'd argue that this is the first time we can say with absolute certainty that their relationship is more than just TO and rookie.

Season 1 Honorable Mention: The scene in the shop outside Isabel's apartment in 1x03. It's the first time we see Lucy breaking down Tim's walls. She really shows her empathy here, and he responds with a vulnerability he hasn't allowed with anyone else. They've only been riding together for a few weeks (?) and somehow Lucy knows what he needs, gives him that safe space and a compassion he clearly hasn't seen in a long. time. It's a beautiful showcase of their dynamic together, but also reveals so much about them as individuals.

Season 2 Oh god, oh god, oh god. This is hands-down the hardest season to choose in, because it's my favourite one, and it's home to some of the most iconic scenes. In the end, I had to go with their exchange in the gym at the end of 2x12. In general this episode is one of my favourites, but this scene is so powerful. We see Lucy working through things, taking out her frustration, trying to channel her strength, to get back to herself. And somehow in that moment, Tim manages to make her smile. He opens up to her in a way we've never seen him do before, and most of all, he reminds her how strong she is. UGH, this scene makes me scream in the best possible way.

Season 2 Honorable Mention: Now that I've picked a favourite, second place is easy—their conversation in 2x17. I've always loved it so much, because between the teasing and the banter, we see this beautiful vulnerability as they talk about the Caleb of it all. It's truly a perfect showcase of their dynamic and everything I love about them. Shit, maybe this is my favourite season 2 scene? AHHHHH IDK

Season 3 I have to go with this scene from the end of 3x09. Hello, excuse me Timothy do you see how you're looking at her????? Also the fact that he dismissed Lucy's comments about missing riding with her earlier in their shift, meanwhile he had already specifically written just that??? AGJLAERGJALGJRLA It's becoming quite clear that my favourite scenes are the ones that I feel most embody their dynamic, and this is no exception—the perfect mix of playful and soft.

Season 3 Honorable Mention: At the wedding venue in 3x14, duh. THE TUX. THE GREEN DRESS. "Save me a dance." HELP HELP HELP *faints*

Season 4 This was was actually pretty easy for me, it's 4x01, the scene at Tim's house. The fact that Tim not only invited her into his space, he practically insisted. Seeing Lucy wearing his clothes, seeing them together, not just outside of work, but in a very intimate space (at a very vulnerable time)???? That hug?? (That look??!?!) THAT HUG?!?!?!! The way Lucy just melts into him is the visualization of what we'd known for so long—that he's her safe space. (And she's his.) UGH, my heart. The entire exchange just felt so damn hopeful, like one of the first real hints that there was something more bubbling under the surface.

Season 4 Honorable Mention: While that kiss in 4x22 was so exciting, I have to give it to the scene outside the hospice. The vulnerability we see between them here, seeing Lucy be Tim's safe space—it's such an incredible parallel to 4x01.

Season 5 HANDS HANDS HANDS. This one was also an easy pick, because I think this is my favourite moment EVERRRRRRRRRRR. The way any trace of Jake/Dim vanishes in that moment, and all we're left with is Tim and his visceral need to check in with Lucy, to be that grounding force for her, to remind her that she's here, she's safe, and she's strong. It's just everything.

Season 5 Honorable Mention: While my #1 scene in this season is easy, it's incredibly hard to pick just one honorable mention. I waffled between the super hot kiss on the plane in 5x01, and the vulnerability in their exchanges in 5x21, and so many other great options... But I think I'd have to say that cold open in 5x10 when we see them getting ready for their date—that whole thing just perfectly embodies everything I love about them. The teasing, the banter, the comfort level between them, the best friend energy, how damn happy they are. It's just so fun and so them and makes me giddy every time I watch it.

I can't wait to see which scene will top my list for season 6... as of now it's obviously this one (I just want to watch this again, so here you go!)

#chenford #the rookie #asked and answered #makeitastrength #chenford opinions #these questions are so much fun #keep 'em coming!

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ssahotchnerr · 2 years

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yes, i’m thinking about casual dom!aaron again because it makes my brain go brrr ��‍💫

and it’s just the littlest things, like you dropped your fork and now you’ve gotta duck under the table to grab it, and it’s only natural that his hand would go to cover the corner so that on your way back up you don’t hit your head 🥺💗— he’s very conscious of this with cabinet doors too

and in crowded spaces (or even not) his hand is always on the small of your back, protectively grazing the skin there as he gently guides you forward :’)) and when you fall asleep on the couch while waiting up for him, he’ll carry you to the bedroom and tuck you in with a soft kiss to your forehead. if you wake up, still groggy with sleep, and you frequently do, it’ll earn you a bigger smattering of kisses, affectionate and adoring, to your lips, nose, cheeks <33 and oh my god, he’d love brushing your hair, and you would love it when he does, in fact, some nights you would beg for him to, but lucky for you, it’s not like it takes much convincing. he’s just completely enamored GAH

pleaseeee absolutely lovesick aaron <33333 and the sense of pride that envelopes him gets whenever he does something for you 💕🦋💕🦋 UGH there's nothing better when his dominate and soft sides collide together >>> the best combo hehe <3

yes, you're completely capable to do things on your own and he knows it, but he loves taking care of you. like, it's him, he's the one who gets to carry you to bed, he's the one opening doors for you, he's the one who gets to touch you and litter you with kisses and give you all the affection in the world. he simply loves how it shows others you belong to him. but most importantly, it shows you how much he loves you. that if you ever need anything, all you have to do is ask and he's already there.

say the two of you are out somewhere, and aaron sees someone eyeing you. but naturally, his hand falls onto the small of your back. the simple gesture makes you blush, his touch always does that to you 🥰<3 and whoever was glancing at you, notices how you smile and look at aaron - just from his small gesture - and knows not to intervene. you're completely oblivious to this, but aaron knows. like that's right! it's clear you're his.

protective aaron my beloved hehe <3 if the two of you are cooking in the kitchen together. he's very mindful- he's moving hot and sharp objects away from you, to prevent you from accidentally knocking into something and getting injured. if he notices your shoe is untied, he doesn't hesitate to reach down and tie it for you. and when you two shower together 🥹😭 he loves shampooing your hair and washing your body for you 🥹 his touch is so so gentle, and afterwards he'll dry you off with a warm towel and brush your hair for you, before grabbing his comfiest pair of clothes for you to wear 🥰

godddd he's so in love and will do whatever it takes to show it <333

#i hope that makes sense im so tired LOL #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner imagines #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x you #criminal minds #criminal minds drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader

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singguks · 1 year

Text

the unbearable lightness of being ✩ knj

✩ FIRST CHAPTER OF EVERYTHINGOES

which includes... fluff and slice of life content ⏤ 822 words.

━━━━━ NEXT !

in which... he feels the heavy weight of his routine and serendipity goes his way !

Spring was turning around the corner and somehow Namjoon’s life felt dull and bloomless still.

He had been strolling aimlessly all Saturday, thinking if he should take a break from his job starting Monday. Or maybe just run away from his manager for a while. Do something else with his life. Go to another country, and live a brand new adventure. That’s how he came to know the little vintage library tucked on the corner of a busy street—because of his equally busy brain and restless feet.

There was no one inside besides him, a kind-eyed grandpa behind the counter, a calico cat, and tons of dusty books—just how Namjoon liked them. And yet the books weren’t what he felt pulled toward to inspect.

On top of two piles that were flooding the floor, there was a ham radio. The aged equipment had a collection of space stickers adorning it which only contributed to filling Namjoon’s brain with nostalgia and fond memories. A long time ago, when he was still a kid, he got to know about the existence of such a radio. Later on, it resulted in tons of questions about its functioning, something that his Physics teacher was eager to provide the answers to.

He heard the old man clearing his throat snapping him off his down-to-memory-lane trance. “If you like it so much I’m more than happy to see it go.”

Namjoon had to double-check on the smiley grandpa behind the old wooden structure. It was a fact that he would be glad to display the device around his house next to the art he collected… It was inspiration after all. Something to connect him with his inner child, even if the equipment wouldn’t work anymore. But not a week ago his mom teased about his house looking like a science fair museum and he wouldn’t want to contribute to that statement. “How much for it?” he asks while pondering and the elder dismisses his offer, going around on the counter.

“Oh no. That one isn’t priced,” he said as he approached with some difficulty. “I would be glad to see it go to a new home after so many years!”

“Are you sure?” Namjoon asks and then looks at the device. “It’s a relic now, sure, and that’s why it should have its price…” he regarded, feeling bad to take the offer without paying something to the old man.

The grandpa let out a chuckle, eyeing him with fondness. “And that is precisely why I’m giving it to you.” he continued with a look that told Namjoon he had already lived plenty to know what he was talking about. “Everything goes, son. But it’s when you know the value of things that you are considered worthy enough to keep ‘em.” he gave Namjoon a gentle tap on his broad shoulders before turning around, “Take it. It was already yours, to begin with.”

Namjoon went home that Saturday with a ham radio underneath his arm and a little paper bag holding an old edition of The Unbearable Lightness Of Being by Milan Kundera. A book that he had already read many times before but upon the gentleness of that stranger, it seemed the right thing to do or the right price to repay.

✩ April 7, 2018

…

“Can someone hear me? Hello?”

…

“Ugh. I swear this will never work…”

...

“Um… Hello?”

...

“Oh, my God! Hi! Can you hear me? Is this real?”

...

“Uh… Yes? I can hear you”

...

“Thank heavens! It’s been a week already. I couldn’t pick up anyone’s frequency…”

...

“I’m Hyori by the way!”

...

“Hello?”

...

“Sorry! Uhm, yeah, nice to meet you! But uh… What do you mean by anyone’s frequency?”

...

“You do this regularly? Like a channel or something?”

…

“Oh gosh, no. *laughs* I’m currently developing something for the company I work with, that’s why the radio.”

…

“A friend of mine suggested it since I need the opinion of strangers… He said this is how he did a survey back in college, so I thought… Let’s risk it!”

...

“Wouldn’t it be easier doing it the obvious way? Don’t get me wrong! I like the effort *laughs*”

...

“I thought about the newspaper as well but I don’t know, the idea seemed gnarly…”

…

“What’s your name again?”

...

“*soundly laughter* you’re funny!”

…

“And I’m Namjoon.”

...

“Namjoon… I like it! Nice to meet you, now officially”

...

“Same!”

...

“Listen, I really gotta run but um… If it’s not asking much, would you please tune in at this frequency tomorrow? It would literally save my life!”

…

“It’s just some silly questions about routines really… Please?”

...

“I mean… Yeah, sure. I see you when I see you or…?”

...

“What? Nevermind- Are you sure? Can I count on you?”

...

“Yes, *chuckles* you can”

…

“THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! This is stellar!”

…

“Are you ok with tomorrow by, umm, 4 o’clock?”

...

“I’ll be waiting.”

✩ ━━━━ everythingoes' masterlist here !

#namjoon x reader #namjoon x oc #bts x oc #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fluff #bts scenarios #bts series #bts fic #namjoon smau #namjoon imagine #rm x reader #rm fanfic #bts au #rm x y/n #.everythingoes

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dieanywhereelseart · 1 year

Text

I’ve been drawing with dip pens lately so I did a nib study using my ghost trick redesigns.

for anyone that’s interested here’s some notes on the nibs under the cut.

Leonardt 33 - Easily the one of the most flexible pen nibs I have. Technically this is designed for calligraphy, specifically spencerian, so the sideways movement isn’t great and there’s little control when doing hatching. Really dramatic swoops with high pressure that aren’t entirely appropriate for character portraits but I kinda dig what it did to Sissel’s hair. Will probably use it for special effects like fire and smoke and stuff.

Leondardt 33 - This one is actually intended for drawing so naturally it has a fairly consistent line weight with a low flex. The hatching marks are kinda scratchy but not in a bad way. Would probably work really well for continuous contour and styles of lineart that are more sketchy, loose, and dynamic than my normal character art style. Would prob use for larger pieces or figures closer to the camera cause the line weight is generally a bit too thick for the usual size I work with.

Tachikawa G - This is a nib made for drawing manga specifically and it’s really easy to use for drawing. Some of the calligraphy nibs really take some thought and careful motor control to look good but this one was forgiving. I see myself using this a lot for really casual art. It was kinda hard to do hatching or filling with this one tho, which was kinda surprising. Very gentle line variance, makes really clear shapes. You can see in the other characters than too high flexibility can make it hard for the brain to turn lines into form so this really mellows it out. Prob best to use this nib to block out the lineart then hatch/fill/detail with others.

Hunt 102 - this is a speedball job made for mapping and oh my god do I love this nib. It’s just so 👌👌👌 on the details??? the line variance perfectly matches the brushes I use on photoshop and it’s just. mwah. it holds onto literally so much ink despite being so tiny. interestingly hatching is unstable but two or three lines together seem to be just fine. Kinda sad that jowd’s hair is a little hard to focus on cause of the variance but with a little practice I can prob find ways around that cause I already know I’m gonna love using this nib for heads and faces. Filling is a bit patchy but otherwise I think this is gonna be my go-to detail nib. (also no jowd isn’t in overalls that’s supposed to be an art apron but with only like the top portion showing it’s hard to tell.)

Hunt 108 - ok this is Supposed to be a drawing nib as well as a calligraphy nib and it does mimic brush strokes but I’m pretty heavy handed so it’s hard Not to make those super thick lines. Not bad with details and has enough control to make thickening up the outline super easy, but really easy to mess up. This nib did Cabanela dirty by flexing a bit too much when I was doing his mouth so I had to correct it with a white pen. Spreads the ink too thin in areas for solid filling. I can see this working really well with mixed media, like with watercolor, and once I get some more colored ink I’ll use it for coloring.

Hunt 100 - idiot stupid rat bastard of a pen nib. ok the art looks fine right? can’t be that bad, right? it took me so long to make that because the ink just. wouldn’t come out. so this nib is another mapping nib and it’s super delicate so it breaks really easily. I broke my first one bc I’m heavy handed, so I ordered another like ‘ok I’ll be more careful with this one’. it broke again. I don’t even know how. Ideally I’d use it for small spaces or reeeally fine details but I can’t even get it to work long enough to try. speedball can meet me in the pits.

Hunt 512 - A calligraphy nib that’s actually really easygoing to draw with. There’s not much line variance, so the hairlines have a lot of control. Makes for really good hatching. Also does really great long, thin lines. Sideways movement is kinda meh but it does the job. Definitely the cleanest looking of all them, tho the lack of variance makes it a bit boring to look at. Gonna use this one for shading and textures or for drawing on really rough paper.

Hunt 99 - like the first nib this one is really dramatic, and it’s supposed to be a calligraphy nib, but it has a lot more weight control than the hunt 108. Also the fine lines are easier to control. A lot of ink comes out so it might not be great on paper with risk of bleeding, and it takes a while to dry compared to others, but it would be good for filling since it can cover a large opaque space while having good control over the shape and points. Could also use for different warping/texture techniques.

Other notes:

I used smooth illustration Bristol for the paper, since ink looks more vibrant and swooshy on it and also some of these nibs can Only be used on smooth paper.

Also used terracotta India ink, which is kinda on the thick end but still looks good. matches with the colored lineart in Ghost Trick lol

got all of my pen nibs from Paper & Ink Arts cause u can order a nib for like less than a dollar fifty each. You can also get paper, nib holders, and ink for a good price too.

if u wanna start with dip pens PLEASE prepare your nibs before drawing. stick them in a potato for like 10 minutes. please trust me on this you will have a bad time otherwise.

ok thanks for reading through my Very Indulgent experiment.

#ghost trick #my art #idk maybe this is a bit unconventional for fanart #but I think a lot of ppl only ever post super polished art and not the experimental stuff #which gives ppl who want to start drawing the idea that every drawing has to be a finished one #and that everything you post has to get likes #sometimes art is about the journey #. . . ok my cat just died so maybe I’m being all maudlin and philosophical to cope but still #this is also here cause I could find jack shit useful reviews for pen nibs #so Hopefully this can help ppl that want to try dip pens but don’t know how #feel free to reblog if you want to reference or share the info on nibs lol #character design #traditional art #nib review

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