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#like walking distance isn't really a thing here
grandlinedreams · 2 days
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|| welcome fellow Ghoul fuckers ily
|| notes: sequel to [this], got nothin' to really say beyond reader and Cooper make the most fucked up implied pseudo parents for Lucy lmao, Canon somewhat compliant, post s1, gonna have to wait for the prequel meeting dic to know why reader knows Coop's whole name
|| warnings: weapons supplier!reader, Canon typical gore/violence, something something save a horse ride a cowboy, NSFW ㅡ fingering, edging (i had to take a lap around my house), irradiated cream pie, unprotected sex (supposedly those swimmers are FRIED but I can dream),
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The low croak of a crow echoes over the barren stretch of sunbaked, irradiated earth ㅡ and the creature itself lands on the bent, rusted post of a long gone sign. Tilts its head this way and that, blinks liquid black eyes ㅡ three of them. Then squawks indignantly when a bullet narrowly misses it, jet black wings flaring as it takes to the sky to complain in that low, creaking voice.
"Get lost," you tell the bird, glancing at the way Dogmeat tracks the creature. Then she whines, licks at her muzzle like she wants to go catch and eat the damn thing.
"Don't even think about it, pup." You inform her, soothing the disappointment with rough scratches to her head that have her nudging for more before you walk away, sharp whistle summoning her to your side. You don't know why, but she's taken a shine to you over your companions, and you're not about to push her away.
The set up for tonight isn't far off, but it's the skitter of some other creature off in the distance paired with the ominous rumble from above that gets your attention ㅡ and you click your tongue at the foreboding, electric green that rolls in the clouds, cracking with lightning. It isn't nightfall yet, but it's growing closer with that mess on the horizon.
There's a pitiful attempt at a fire being made by Lucy when you return, and she offers a smile that you echo briefly before moving to Cooper's side, nudging him with your boot. "Storm's rollin' in."
He grunts, tugs his hat from where he'd been shading his face ㅡ pretending to sleep to ignore Lucy's still-attempting-to-be-friendly rambles, you suppose. "How far out?"
You shrug, slinging your pack back onto your shoulders. "About an hour, give or take."
Lucy flicks a confused look to both of you as Cooper gets to his feet as well, and her head tilts. "Why're we moving?"
You raise an eyebrow. "You want radiation sickness, vaultie?" It's worth it for the way she bristles, and you snicker. "Come on. There's something of a building not far from here."
You're kind enough to wait for her unlike Cooper, who heads off with Dogmeat while you trail with Lucy.
The building was probably an apartment complex at one point for the squared off, honeycomb like interior, the sections that remain halfway decent.
The presence of scattered, long empty supply packaging ranging from stimpacks to tins of cram says that you aren't the first to be here though, and you split off with Cooper to scout out the place, leaving Lucy with Dogmeat.
You're just as quick with tongue and trigger as Cooper ㅡ Lucy has learned that the hard way over the last week or so. But there's still a softness to you that Lucy likes, gravitates towards ㅡ and figure that Cooper likes it too, for the way she spots him watching you sometimes, pretends not to notice when he looks up and glares at her.
"Clear," you report, pulling her from her thoughts as you toss her a bedroll and a spare blanket. Where you got them, she doesn't know. And the dark stains of what absolutely is most likely blood tells her she doesn't want to know.
What she does know is that she's allowed what constitutes as a room to herself ㅡ three walls and a roof that won't cave in are enough for her to take it without complaint. Dogmeat goes with her, and when she looks up, she knows why with the unspoken way you and Cooper split off for the same little room a couple broken spaces down from hers.
"Get some rest, Lucy," you tell her, offer a small smile that makes her beam as she settles down for the night, deciding that she is far, far better off not thinking about just how close you and Cooper actually are.
"Cute kid," you remark as you finally trail into the room after Cooper, earning an amused scoff.
"Fuckin' annoying is what she is," he grouses, and it's your turn to laugh as you shrug off your pack and kneel, digging for your own bedroll.
"Considering that's what you called me when we first metㅡ"
"No, I called you an annoying bitch."
"Potayto, potahto." You tug the bedroll free and roll it out, blinking as Cooper settles himself over it with a groan and then a sigh. "Excuse me."
He peers up at you. "What now?"
"This is my bed." You snip, jerking a thumb over your shoulder. "Up, Cooper."
"Nah." He folds his arms behind his head. "You like the vaultie so much, go cuddle up with her."
You stare. "Cooper Howard," you say, "if I didn't know better, I'd think you were jealous of the kid." He's silent, and you raise an eyebrow. "Are you?"
"No." The words is sharp, and he lifts his head to eye you. "Don't need to be jealous when I know what's mine," he rasps, "now quit bitchin' and c'mere."
You don't know what it says that you do so without fuss, settling yourself to straddle his hips as he sits up, draping your arms over his shoulders.
"There," you snip, adjusting to flick at the rim of his hat. "Better?"
He watches you with eyes as dark as an oil spill, and you don't miss the flick to your mouth and back up. "Gettin' there."
You snort. "You know," you murmur, tone dropping lower, "if you wanted to kiss me, all you gotta do is ask."
He smirks, the flash of his teeth. "Where's the fun in that, sugar? I like the chase. Besides," he lowers his tone, leans in further, "you're the one bitchin' when we can share this sad excuse for a bed. And the way I see it, you're gettin' the better deal anyways."
You roll your eyes, act like you're annoyed ㅡ but the way you don't tell him to shove it or get off of him speaks volumes enough.
Poetically, it starts raining just as you kiss him. The fingertip drum of it on the roof, sour-sweet smell of it that still reaches you because this isn't a real bedroom, just some shitty excuse for it. Doesn't matter, because this is far better than the kisses you've stolen over the last few days when you're absolutely certain Lucy isn't watching either of you.
Cooper seems to think so too for the way he deepens the kiss, cups your face as he nips at your lower lip and licks into your mouth when they part.
He squeezes at your hips, snakes his fingers back under your shirt, pinches and tugs and maps until you're squirming in his lap as he shoves your shirt off completely. He pulls, coaxes you into an arch that lets him mouth at your ribs, nip and sow sparks of pleasure in your veins as he leaves little patches of bruised pink skin in his wake.
He likes marking you, he realizes, the subtle claim without him having to say it. Mine.
He welcomes the grind of your hips against his, your body soft in all the ways that his isn't, filling in the cracks and rounding out all his sharp edges until he can't think of anything but getting his hands on you properly.
The pop of the button on your jeans is easy, the slip of his hand deliberate ㅡ you're louder this time, covered by the storm above as you whine and moan and buck into his hand and the sinful, clever work of his fingers.
And then just as you're about to crest that wave of pleasure, he stops. Smirks at the way you glare, taps your nose with his other hand. "You know you don't get nothin' for free around here, sugar."
He's teasing though, pushes you back to work his belt open, pants down ㅡ then dragging you back over him. Groans, tips his head back at the teasing glide of you before he's adjusting to line himself up and guiding you down.
The gasp he gets is music to his ears, nearly lost to the gutteral, hissed noise he makes himself at the tight, warm squeeze of you around his length. His eyes roll, and he bucks his hips up.
"C'mon sweet thing," he rasps, "don't make me do all the work. Ride for me."
The rhythm is stilted for the way he grips your hips anyways, reluctant to let you pull off of him too much ㅡ but it still feels good. Your breath matches the staccato movement, hands splayed on his chest for balance and head thrown back, looking for all the world like some sort of dedication to a long gone diety that he'd gladly worship to the end.
And he does still, reverence to the way he touches, kisses, bites ㅡ throbbing vitality in your veins calling to him, sweet siren song wrapped in those plush lips of yours. Soft skin squeezed under his fingers, forgiving for all the ways he can't be gentle, desperate as he is.
It's the throttled clamp of your warmth that says you're coming undone, gooey and wet and warm in all the right ways that has him clutching at you, cursing as his hips jerk and he fills you, mouthing at your pulse point as he does.
Heavy breathing sets the undertone of the roll of thunder outside crumbling walls, rapid beat of two hearts, and there's something dangerously soft, romantic in the way he lets you melt into him.
You drape over him, whisper soft kisses to his cheek, his jaw, his mouth until he kisses you back, slowly, selfishly, dangerously sweet.
"You," he tells you, "are absolutely no good for me." He slings an arm over your waist, softens the bite until it's nonexistent.
After all, what's one more vice?
In the morning, the four of you leave ㅡ there's a lot of ground to cover, after all. Lucy walks beside you, Dogmeat and Cooper just a few feet ahead.
"So," she begins conversationally, "what're those marks on your neck from?"
To your credit, you neither flinch nor blush, busy yourself with fussing with something at your hip. "Mosquitos."
Lucy hums. "That's funny, didn't realize mosquitos got so big. Best be careful then, huh?"
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Does anyone else think about how Shinji said this twice...
The first time was somewhat innocent, because he didnt believe in the idea of fate. He refused the idea outright because it was just too bleak. He wanted to think that there was a way for everyone to live, so why believe in something like destiny or predetermination?
And yet... He likely said this out loud to comfort Tezuka, to motivate him, to keep him from giving into despair. Shinji does not believe in fate, but the person he is dragging out of the battle field does, and he wants Tezuka to borrow his own feelings of determination and passion for just a moment, so they can both live to see the next day.
But what Shinji doesnt understand is that Tezuka did this sacrifice precisely because of Shinji's passion. Shinji has nothing to offer to this man because Tezuka has already made the choice to purposely refuse the benefits of Shinji's savior complex. He make his choice the moment that he walked out the door of Atori, and purposely distanced himself so Shinji wouldn't try to die for someone else. Tezuka explains that he changed fate for Shinji to live. Tezuka explains that he took this man's place so that Shinji can fight in this war, so that Shinji can find an end to the violence. Tezuka wants him to continue where he would fail, where he would have blamed himself for the death of another friend and never gotten back up.
Shinji wishes there was another option, that he could have somehow seen this coming and stopped Tezuka and figured out a way to live too... But what can he really do? Tezuka's last words left such an impact on him, and while Shinji originally didn't believe in fate, he could not help but lean into the idea after Tezuka's death. He tends to weigh other people's ideas more than his own in his head, so when Tezuka dies because he followed his principles to the end like this... He just can't deny it as much as before. Denying that fate exists would be spitting on the face of his friend's choice, right?
So the idea sits with him. The idea that fate was already changed... He's not sure if he can believe it, but he can't not believe it, either. There had to have been another way that things have gone, right? That's what he wants to think, but he cannot deny the weight of Tezuka's ultimate choice. He has to learn to accept this, somehow, but it's hard for him, it's hard to remember which thoughts are his own and which thoughts are borrowed from his memories of Tezuka. Shinji slowly becomes burdened by the idea of fate. Believing in Tezuka's last hope is the only way for him to continue, it's the only way for him to cope.
And that's when the narrative throws a fucking curveball. This character, wrattled with grief, finally trying to move on from that horrible moment of senseless violence, is forcibly dragged backwards. Six months. Six entire months happening all over again right before his eyes. Shinji gets an impossible second chance to fix what never should have happened. He knows who is going to die and he has the time to prevent it. He can change it.
But he discovers that he cannot change himself. He watches everything in horror as it happens all over again because he cannot break out of his own skin. He can't change his habits, he can't think different thoughts or change his actions, he can't seem to remember the details of that future that has not happened yet. His future self, and his future grief, is buried deep inside of him. He tries to claw his way out in any way he can, but he is trapped in the prison that is himself. He can only catch the smallest glimpses of clarity through the bars of his cell, and by then it is often too late.
When Shinji finally gets back here, to this moment, he must have repeated these words. He cannot change his thoughts, after all. So he says it and it means the same thing as before; he wants to comfort Tezuka and lend him his own determination and will to live. But there is now an additional meaning to it, isn't there? There is now a layer of despair. A part of Shinji is so, so desperate for things to change. A part of him knows that Tezuka diverted fate for his sake, and isn't that diversion a part of fate now too? Can't we change that too? Do not die when fate tells you to die. Don't do this, don't leave me again.
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dipolardruid · 1 day
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⚠️ TW WARNING⚠️
Yandere, toxic relationship, kidnapping, attempted break up on readers part.
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"What...? No, I wasn't trying to, you know I wouldn't do anything like that!" Tina says with a desperate tone as she closes in on you.
You take a step back to create distance, which causes her to look at you with an unreadable expression "yet you knowingly do it, I've told you repeatedly to stop doing things because they make me uncomfortable, Even after that you still do them." At this she seems to look away a couple of times before making eye contact with you.
"I swear it's never on purpose!" Before you're able to respond or do anything, she continues on."I promise I really mean it! It won't happen starting today!" She says in a pleading tone as she lightly scratches and squeezes her fingers.
"You're right it won't happen starting today because I want nothing to do with you." You quickly turn away before Tina can respond to your words. However, you don't get far before you're grabbed by the back of your shirt "Wait stop w-where are you going?"
Pulling away from Tina, she tries to grab you again, which only causes you to become more aggressive in keeping her hands away, which results in Tina becoming more desperate to hold onto you "please don't go! I promise! I promise I'll stop!" The struggle is enough to cause you to trip over your feet, causing both of you to almost fall.
"Will you stop already! Just leave me alone!" At your raised voice, Tina flinches back, her eyes squinted, fist raised to her chest in a self soothing manner, but it seems to have stopped her from trying to grab you again.
At this, you walk away from her and out of her room, looking back every so often to make sure she isn't behind you. While walking towards the front door, you see both Petra and Jake walking towards you. Upon seeing your upset face, Jake puts up his hand to stop you.
"What's wrong?" He tries to make eye contact with you, but you avoid his gaze looking over at the floor."Go ask Tina." You tell him before walking past him and Petra they both take a quick look at each other before Jake speaks up. "I'll go check on Tina. " Petra nods before following behind you.
That day ended with Petra taking you home and Tina's nonstop calling and texting until you had to block her number.
Despite this, the others sat around you during school hours. Petra or Jake may talk to you, but it's mainly Paul who tries to get you to speak to Tina again.
"Come on, you guys had an argument that's all there is to it. What's the big deal?" He says he says wrapping his arm around your shoulder. However, upon trying to move out of his grip, he tightens his forearm around your collarbone, keeping you in place "ok how about this you just come over you don't have to make small talk with her or anything but just be around like before" you look at him to reject but before you can he speaks up "please..." he says pleadingly.
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You don't know why you accepted, you never should've, it would've been better to just take the guilt and walk away from him, to ask for help if he refused to let you go yet you didn't.
Now, here you were watching your face plastered on the screen as your parents beg for your safe return, promising all that they have and more. At this, everything begins to blur as a sob escapes your throat.
"Why...?" Is all that you could muster before the tightness in your throat becomes too much for you to continue talking.
Tina sits beside you, stroking your back. "You tried to leave, I would've handled this better if you listened to everyone else about just coming back, but you wanted to be stubborn about it"
You wanted nothing more than to smack her away and yell, but you knew the consequences of that. You lost count of all the things she's done to you after some time. Things were bearable if you simply let it happen instead of constantly fighting back.
"It's ok...it's ok, come here, no more crying. I don't like it when you cry." Tina says, pulling you closer to herself, your head on her chest.
"They're still looking for me....you can't keep me here forever, tina." You say between breaths as you try to catch your breath. "Really? I would say otherwise, the news has stopped talking about you, your disappearance came and went as everything else does, your parents... let's say they aren't a worry." Tina strokes your head as she says this.
At this you feel you feel your body stiffen and your breath catch in your throat.
As you're about to question her, Tina runs her thumb over your lips before speaking, "That's enough for today. It's late, so let's get you ready for bed." At this, you go to speak up only to be met with Tina's side glance, causing you to keep your mouth shut.
You hate it. You hate the way you fear her. The way your body tenses up as she tucks you into bed and smooths the blanket around you, yet you can't help but let it happen even if you did fight back, you're just a human. Physically, you could stand a chance. However, if she decided to use her power, you'd be on the floor clutching your ears in pain, not only that it'd alert everyone in the house along with the others.
So as much as you want to shove past her as she walks out that door, all you can do is lay in this bed watching her back as she walks out able to do whatever she wants, whenever she wants.
"One more thing." This causes you to look over at her " I love you, Goodnight"
You don't want to say it but you have to yet everytime you do it feels as if you're about to vomit. "Y/N" This causes you to flinch your head back as she says your name with a warning edge to it.
"I-I love you too..."
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Request are open!
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sagau-my-beloved · 1 year
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Okay but what if Reader tries to teach Venti how to drive 👀
☁️ anon
☁️ anon do you have a death wish?
I can tell your heart's in the right place, but please don't put this Archon anywhere behind the wheel of a vehicle ever, save yourself the trouble and money
Is it technically, in a purely theoretical sense, possible for him to learn? Sure, there are a lot of people way stupider on the road currently
Does that mean you should let him anywhere but the passenger seat of your vehicle? Absolutely not, unless you've somehow managed to break both of your arms, legs, and there was some form of avalanche coming threatening to crush you both in the very immediate future
Venti isn't exactly one to exercise excess caution, there would be a lot of very close calls that would simply be laughed off
Rules are mere suggestions to this God, and that is adamantly shown through his use of Wind Gliding
For your own sanity if nothing else, please, trust me on this one
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yanderenightmare · 2 months
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TW: NSFW, noncon, yandere, stalking
gn reader
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There’s something very off about your roommate… something eerie that makes you keep your distance.
You can’t describe exactly what it was about the boy except that you felt it from the second you shook his hand. The way he introduced himself… you don’t know… you had this unshakable feeling as though he already knew you from somewhere.
It’s a weird thought to have of someone you’d only just met. You knew you were probably just being paranoid. It was your first time sharing your space with someone other than family, so it might very well just have been you being apprehensive.
Not that you’d ever let it show, though. You didn’t want things between the two of you to be awkward when you’d be living together for the next three years of getting your degree.
You just needed to get used to him, is what you told yourself. 
So you laughed at his jokes and listened to his brags with a polite smile as though nothing was wrong, even when he continued being strange. 
For starters, he had almost nothing to unpack – as though he only planned to stay about a month or two. Everything seemed newly bought as well – unused and sterile, like a movie set.
You don’t know… maybe he was a minimalist even though he didn’t seem the type.
It shouldn't really have made your skin crawl the way it did. But whether it made sense or not, you couldn’t shake the discomfort – walking around in a constant wariness of him. 
Everything about him seemed like a half-assed theatre act.
You’d see him in the lecture hall, walking from here to there, buying strawberry milk from the vending machines. His textbooks remained piled on his desk in your shared dorm room – but you’d never seen any one of them open. And when curiosity and suspicion made you flip up one of his notebooks, you found it was all blank except for a few shitty doodles on the first page. You never see him cram for exams or writing any papers. You don’t think you’ve ever even seen him pull a laptop out of his bag.
It’s like he isn't a student at all…
And something about the rest of his performance just rubs you the wrong way.
It’s as though he’s practiced all his facial expressions in the mirror – as though he’s studied social cues and body language in a human behavior manual instead of having learned them naturally. It makes you uneasy – how his smile is always a bit too wide and a bit too stiff to be genuine and how all his words are like dialogue off a script.
Somehow, it feels as though he’s wearing a second skin – hiding something… something that’s not quite right on the inside.
It grosses you out when he tries flirting with you. But you do your best to hide it. Brushing him off by changing the topic, inviting other friends when he asks to eat lunch together, laughing off his attempts as though he’s making jokes – always excusing yourself when you end up alone with him for too long. 
You try to avoid him as much as you can. Pretending to study when you’re in the dorm together – and otherwise going to bed early.
He tells you he’ll see you at the party later when you leave to pregame with some friends. You can only muster a smile and a curt “Sure.” before leaving. 
As for seeing each other later – you hope you don’t.
But of course you do. You can’t seem to escape him. Everywhere you go, he follows.
It doesn’t help that all your friends think he’s so hot, immediately calling him over, gushing over him as though he’s some type of celebrity. They don’t understand your reservation – if they were you, they’d have fucked him the first night of moving in together.
It’s not like you don’t find him attractive as well. You admit he is ridiculously handsome, and if the circumstances were different, you’d say you lucked out being assigned the same dorm room as him. 
But as it were – he gives you the same feeling as spotting a spider.
He’s got his arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk back together. 
He had a little bit too much to drink… And despite your thoughts about him, even you didn’t have the heart to say no when he was practically hanging off of you – cheeks dusted pink with his mothlike lashes droopy, drunkenly mumbling while blinking up at you with those awfully bright eyes, asking you to take him home and tuck him in.
“Ugh...” You sigh.
It’s a struggle carrying the nearly two-meter-tall boy, almost having to drag him down the hallway before stopping short at your door. He’s drooling on your shoulder with murmurs of sleep as you search for the key – not exactly sober yourself.
When inside, his bigger body presses you against the closed door – his face buried in the grove of your neck with slurred words.
“Dude.” You state with a grimace – as if saying his name was too much of a burden – sighing as you haul him off with the same exasperation of a parent putting an unruly child to bed. 
Ducking beneath his arm, you leave him kissing the door – thinking to yourself how you really should put him to bed before he can embarrass himself any further.
You open your mouth to tell him when his temper finally makes him grab your arm a little harder than intended. 
“This isn't how this is supposed to go.” 
You flinch instinctively, and his grip tightens in return. “Hey?”
You can’t see his face with the way he’s got his head bowed. But you don’t like the snuff growl that passes under his breath as he utters the next words.
“Why are you so difficult?”
You do more than flinch this time, yanking yourself out of his harsh grip before he can apologize for it – taking on a deliberate offensive stance. 
With your feet squared and your hands up to keep him at a distance, you look ready to try fending him off.
Something about it seems premeditated – something in the wary way you eye him. You don’t even look all that surprised – as if you had suspected this side of him existed all along and had only been waiting for it to surface.
Oddly, t feels like something you’ve kept secret from him – as though you’ve acted comfortable all this time when, in reality, you’ve been clutching your mental pearls.
He realizes then why you haven’t returned his affection – why all you’ve ever given him is cold-hearted rejection…
Of course. It’s obvious now – so obvious it’s funny. Even though he’s been the one parading around like someone else, it feels as though you’ve been doing the exact same thing around him – hiding your discomfort behind a sweet smile – hiding it so well that not even his keen eyes have picked up on it…
But it’s clear now….
You’ve both been playing a game of pretend – just a pair of perfect strangers – who've now shared their hand. Leaving you both feeling naked – raw out in the cold – just waiting for the next move.
“I guess the gig is up, huh?” He rasps, fingers twitching at his sides – looking ready to pounce.
You couldn’t defend why you'd kept the pepper spray in the drawer of your nightstand – but you were glad you had. Rushing for it, hands shaking as you pulled the handle and grabbed the bottle – twisting around and spraying it right in the face of your roommate.
He cries out from the attack, clutching his face with both hands – staggering back with a series of gruff curse words.
Still, he guards the door – preventing your escape.
The groaning turns to croaks instead, and you think he might be crying. It’s tough to see through the hands covering his eyes – but when he looks back up again, despite the red burns left by your pepper spray on his puffy teary cheeks, he’s got a smile on his face. 
He’s not crying – he’s laughing – as the hand covering his face slowly drags down the crazed expression – over crazed eyes, bloodshot and wet, staring at you through the gaps between his fingers.
The look alone is enough to give you goosebumps.
But when you try to make a run for it, he grabs you again – and this time, you’re not able to shake him off. It feels as though the tight grip splinters your skin as he pulls you back – shoving you down against your bed.
“Can’t say it hasn’t been fun, roomie. But I’m not completely satisfied yet.”
He’s on top of you before you get a kick in – pinning your wrists above your head as he leans over you – bright eyes gleaming with that sickness you’d almost convinced yourself you’d been imagining. You opt to shout, but he’s soon got his other hand clasped tight over the bottom half of your face before you get a sound out.
“You were supposed to fall in love with me, you know?” His voice is airy as though he’s confessing – but also on the brink of laughter as though he’s telling a joke in class. “That’s how it goes in the movies.”
You swallow beneath his hand – eyes peeled, heart beating so hard it hurts.
His eyes wander – roaming your neck and chest. It’s awfully quiet before he speaks again. “But I suppose we can act out a different plot line...” 
You whimper at his suggestive tone – already feeling the weight of his intentions bearing down on you, crushing you free of air. 
“I like romcoms, but horror stories have their charm, too...”
You shudder beneath the warmth of his breath, screaming into his palm once his warm lips mouth your throat, sucking on the tender skin with tongue and teeth in between words.
“An unfortunate college student finds themself moving into the same dorm as their unhinged stalker…”
There’s a thrill in his tone – something crazed and terrifying as he goes on.
“The two play a psychological game of endurance, trying to balance college and privacy while sharing the same space...”
Something hard and gross steadily ruts against your thigh. His voice gets thicker – breath hotter on your neck. The kisses turn sloppy. Tears burn your cheeks.
“Everything seems to lead up to a party held before Spring break, a fateful night on which their endurance finally runs out.”
He groans, and you sob.
“A rejected kiss, a can of pepper spray, a shared bed. What happens next?”
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JJK – Gojo, Yuta
BNHA – Hawks, Denki, Kirishima
HQ – Miya twins
CSM – Yoshida
BLLK - Nagi
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inkskinned · 6 months
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in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).
you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.
you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.
you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.
the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.
you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.
but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.
all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.
the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.
and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.
after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.
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marriedtobigfoot · 8 months
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Steve ends up heartbroken, lonely and depressed after season 2. Nancy called him bullshit, even after he ditched all his old friends for her. Billy Hargrove took his spot at the top of the food chain. He can have it, Steve doesn't really want it anymore. But Steve does want to find some sort of connection. Someone to have in his life who isn't an 11 year old kid he barely knows. He tries to go on a date one night, take a nice-seeming girl to a party. He wants to find connection, to kill the loneliness that's been building for months, but just as he's feeling kind of good about things, his date ditches him.
So. He decides to drink his feelings. He gets majorly fucked up, and ends up laying on the ground in the backyard, contemplating how much life seems to hate him.
Only to literally get tripped over by Eddie Munson, who was at this party selling pot and is very confused as to why Steve Harrington is alone on the ground with a bottle of vodka clenched in one hand.
Eddie ends up chatting a little with Steve, nothing substantial, but enough to know that Steve is very very drunk, and also very very sad.
He asks if Steve wants to go back to the party, and Steve staunchly refuses. He doesn't want to be around a bunch of annoyingly happy people.
He asks if Steve needs a ride home, and Steve just kind of shrugs. His parents just left for another trip, so home is kind of depressing right now too. But he doesn't exactly have any other friends he can stay with so. Home it'll have to be.
Only Eddie can *tell* he doesn't really want to go home, though he has no idea why Steve wouldn't want to return to his veritable mansion after a shitty night. The reason doesn't matter much. He offers to let Steve crash at his place. Steve can take the couch, or hell he can stay in Eddie's room if he doesn't mind sharing, that way he wouldn't risk being woken up when Wayne comes home that morning.
And well, Steve agrees. Can't think of any reason not too. Munson has been nice so far, he's got a good easy-going energy that Steve likes. Why not stay the night.
By the time they get to Eddie's, Steve is *slightly* more sober. Not much, but he's slurring his words a little less, and he can walk with only a little help.
Eddie grabs them each a little plate of leftovers, because he has no idea if Steve's eaten at all. It's quiet while they eat, Eddie doesn't push Steve to talk, and Steve isn't sure what to say. Eventually Eddie sets the plates aside and give Steve an easy grin.
"So, do you want the couch, or are you crashing with me?"
Steve thinks about it for a while. He hasn't shared a bed with a guy-friend since he was a kid, and he's heard rumors about Eddie, whispers in the hall about the way he looks at other guys. But...Steve can't really bring himself to care. He's tired, and he really doesn't want to be alone.
"I don't mind sharing."
Eddie sets them both up in his room, letting Steve choose which side of the bed he wants, and they both settle in. There's a respectable distance between the two of them, and Eddie says a quick goodnight to Steve, figures they won't talk and just go right to bed.
Except Steve isn't sober, and he really isn't in a good headspace, so he can't stop himself from blurting things out into the quiet of the dark room.
"Are you really gay?"
Eddie stiffens next to him, he can feel it, he can hear the way that the other boys breath cuts off and he seems to stop breathing all-together.
"It's okay if you are, I'm not going to be an asshole about it, I'm trying not to be that guy anymore. I guess I was just curious."
It's quiet for another beat before Eddie seems to loosen just a little. He starts breathing again at least.
"Yeah I uh- I am. Gay. And if that's weird the couch is still open, I can-"
"It's not weird."
"Okay."
Steve let's himself mull over this confirmation, and then his mouth starts moving again, without his permission.
"Is it lonely? Cause I mean, it's got to be hard to date in Hawkins. People here are shitty. Unless you've got like, a secret boyfriend or something."
"No...no secret boyfriend. It does get a little lonely sometimes. I'm lucky though, I've got my uncle, and my friends are pretty great. That's enough most days."
"What do you do when it's not enough?"
"Hmmm?"
"When your uncle and friends aren't enough, what do you do? To try and...make it better?"
Eddie is quiet again for a long stretch before he shrugs.
"I try to focus on something else. I'll play my guitar or work on a new campaign, read a book. Something to take my mind off it."
"Oh."
Now Steve is the one who seems tense, his jaw is tight and he's got his arms wrapped around himself. His next words come out as a whisper, but Eddie manages to catch them.
"I don't know how to do any of that."
He sounds almost choked, and Eddie is caught off guard. He's never seen Steve Harrington as anything other than solid, as happy. He's the king, after all. He's supposed to be all smiles and great hair. Only...Eddie's noticed that he hasn't hung out with his old friends lately, that he's eaten alone at lunch too many times to be anything other than strange.
"Steve...are you lonely?"
Eddie expects a denial, for Steve to laugh it off and tell Eddie that he's perfectly fine and fulfilled. Or maybe he expects a shrug, a non-answer. What he doesn't expect is the gut-wrenching sob that seems to tear past the other boys lips.
He doesn't expect to turn and see Steve Harrington's face, a scant foot from his, shining with tears.
He panics a little at the sight.
"Fuck- I'm so sorry-"
"Don't be." Steve tries to wipe his eyes, to hide the tremble in his voice. "Not your fault there's something wrong with me."
"What do you mean?"
"It's like I'm broken man, like nobody can stand to be around me. Tommy and Carol hate me now, Nancy- hell even my own parents hate being at home with me for more than a week. It's like I'm repellent or something. Couldn't even get a date to stick around for a whole night."
And Eddie's pretty sure *he* might start crying now. He'd never have expected this much from Steve, all that sadness to come pouring out. It wouldn't have happened if Steve was completely sober. Without thinking, he reaches out.
Eddie puts a hand on Steve's shoulder and waits to see if the touch gets rejected, but Steve seems to lean into him, so he lets his hand linger.
"This probably won't help, but I don't think you're repellent. And that's coming from somebody who your whole group used to torture. I don't know much about you, but I kind of liked having you around tonight."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Steve gives him a tiny smile. His eyes are still wet with tears, and the smile doesn't come close to reaching them. He seems impossibly small here in Eddie's bed.
"I don't know man. I just wish-"
He cuts himself off, apparently deciding his words are too far, but Eddie urges him to keep talking.
"What do you wish Steve?"
"I just wish that... there was somebody out there I could have a future with. Somebody who actually loved me, you know?"
It might be the saddest thing Eddie's ever heard, and he blames that fact for what he does next.
He takes his hand off Steve's shoulders and instead hauls Steve closer to him, fitting the other boy against his chest and wrapping his arms around him. It's a move that might get him decked, but he doesn't think it will. And he'll be damned if he doesn't hug Steve right that second.
He doesn't get hit. Steve tenses for a second, but it's just that one instant before he's melting into the embrace.
Eddie feels more tears falling against his shirt, and he couldn't care less. He keeps Steve close, let's him cry into his chest, runs a hand through that famous mop of hair.
He isn't sure how long it takes for Steve to calm down, but eventually he does. His breathing evens out, and he shivers a little before speaking.
"Thanks man."
And Eddie takes another leap of faith.
"I could be that person, you know."
"What?"
"I mean. You know Im... not straight. It may not be exactly what you're wanting but. I think I could picture a future with you. If you want to, just for tonight...I could be that someone who loves you."
Steve looks at Eddie, like he's a puzzle that he needs to solve, before a other shiver seems to wrack his body.
"Just for tonight?"
It comes out as a whisper, but Eddie hears it all the same.
"Yeah. For tonight Steve."
"I think...I think I'd like that."
Eddie gives him the sweetest smile he can muster, and nods.
"Alright sweetheart."
Eddie isn't exactly sure what it means, to love Steve for the night. After all, Steve is straight. He figures it doesn't matter much though, it's only for a night.
He keeps a hold on Steve, let's him get comfortable tucked against Eddie, and he does what feels natural. He runs a hand up and down Steve's spine, traces shapes into the soft fabric of his shirt. He tangles their legs together, and in a moment of insane bravery he presses a kiss to the top of Steve's head.
He's met with a sigh, full of relief, and figures he's on the right track.
"Just close your eyes Stevie, I've got you."
"Can you tell me about it?"
"Hmmm?"
"The future. You said you could see one. Can you tell me?"
And he asks so carefully, he sounds almost afraid, Eddie can't say no to that.
"Do you want the fantasy future, or the realistic future?"
"The real one."
"Alright then. Well, if I'm not going to be a rich and famous rockstar...I'll probably graduate and get a job somewhere in town. A real job, maybe working on cars or something. I'm good with cars. You'd come over all the time, have dinners with me and with Wayne. You'd have to meet Wayne. And we'd have more nights like this, sleeping close."
Steve let's out a pleased sounding hum, and shifts his face so it's buried even closer in Eddie's neck. He can feel Steve's breath on him.
"We could save up money and get a little place together, somewhere outside Hawkins. I have to stay kind of close, for my uncle, but maybe Indy?"
Steve nods, mutters something about staying close 'just in case'. He sounds like he might fall asleep, so Eddie keeps going.
"We could get an apartment, nothing too fancy. We would get two rooms, so nobody gets suspicious, but we would share a bed most nights. I'd play with my band on weekends, just for fun, and you'd join some little local sports team. I'd make sure to schedule DND nights so that I never miss a single game, even though I don't understand a damn thing about sports. We would come home for holidays, but most of the time it would just be us. I'd take good care of you, make sure you never go more than a few hours without me telling you I love you. I'll show up wherever you're working just to give you a hug and a kiss, and make sure you don't forget it. And I'll annoy the hell out of, but you won't mind too much, because I'll make you happy too."
Eddie can think of more. He can think about so many things. How he could give Steve one of his rings, even if they couldn't legally get married, even if Steve would never want that. Just as another reminder that he's loved. They could take trips together and go out to parties where Steve will never have to worry about getting ditched. Eddie doesn't do things halfway, and he has a hell of an imagination. He could picture them growing old together, if he tried, if he let himself. But this is just for tonight, so he doesn't. Instead he runs a hand through Steve's hair again, and listens to his quiet breathing. He thinks he may have fallen asleep, but he's wrong.
"That sounds nice."
It comes out muffled, spoken into Eddie's neck, but he manages to make it out, and he let's the vibration of it sink into his skin.
*It's only for tonight.*
He has to remind himself, because Steve is just feeling lonely. He doesn't want that future with Eddie, he just wants to feel loved.
But even if it's just pretend, just to help Steve for a few hours, he's okay with that.
Steve may think he's broken, but Eddie thinks he would be easy to love for a long time. Loving him for one night is nothing. He doesn't even have to try.
Tomorrow Steve will wake up sober, and he'll thank Eddie for letting him stay over, and they won't talk about it. Eddie will drive Steve back to his car in silence, and they'll say their goodbyes. They may not talk ever again, they never had before.
But for tonight? Eddie Munson will love Steve Harrington, and Steve? He'll let himself be loved, let himself beleive it. And he'll love Eddie right back.
Just for one night.
And if Steve ever needs it again? Eddie will love him for another night. And Steve will give that love right back. He's got plenty to spare, after all. And there's far worse people he could share it with.
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Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea
AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind
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Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter
Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.
He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.
He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.
"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.
Yeah something's definitely up.
"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.
He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"
You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.
"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"
"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"
You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"
The bathtub overflows.
"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.
"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.
"Si-"
"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"
That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.
"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.
"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."
Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.
You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.
You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.
Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.
'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'
He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.
He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.
'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'
Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.
He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.
"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.
He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.
"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"
You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.
"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.
"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.
"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."
He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"
He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.
You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.
He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.
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luveline · 11 months
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Jade I’ve been WAITING and HOPING for you to ask about spider verse and/or Miguel requests. He is the epitome of grumpy love interest falls for sunshine reader, would you maybe write something where he’s like in the midst of being scary and intimidating and then when reader walks in he is trying to maintain that image in front of whoever else is there but she just like totally ignores it and basically exposes how soft he is?
Obviously feel free to take or leave whatever parts of that you like I just love grumpy x sunshine
SPOILERS FOR SPIDER-MAN: ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE BELOW
thank you for your request! for you my love, grumpy (lovesick) miguel x sunshine spidergirl!reader, 1.5k
Miguel spends a lot of time arguing with Peter B. Parker, or as you've so fondly nicknamed him, Sweatpants-Man. Well, Miguel spends a lot of time yelling at him. It stopped for a while; Peter B. Parker took some time away from the Spider Society, but eventually he returned with a brand new spider. A baby girl. 
You linger at the door, startled to find him in company, but pleased when he isn't yelling as loudly as he could be. He looks desperately as though he wants to shout, and is holding back through sheer force of will, his eyes widened and his hair falling in unruly waves over his forehead, strands of it curled into his eyes. 
Miguel is a worrier. It isn't his fault. He's a great man with responsibilities beyond his control, and he may not always react how he should, but he tries his best. You don't agree with everything he does, but you like him. You adore him. For all of his goodness, his bravery, and the smile he gives you when you're alone. 
He's clearly troubled by something. 
"I don't really see the harm, I won't tell him a thing," Peter B. Parker says.
"Why do you refuse to listen to me? No. End of discussion." 
"I think we should reopen the discussion," Peter B. Parker says. 
He and Miguel are friends, you think. They would have been best buddies by now if Peter could abide by Miguel's rules. Then again, you ignore the rules often and indiscriminately, and Miguel likes you.
He's scraping his hair out of his eyes now, a fierce glare fixed on Peter's face, and you have the urge to go in there and try to persuade him to give Peter whatever it is he's asking for. You're almost certain you could do it. 
Not through your sheer mastery of the persuasive arts, though you have mastered them, but because Miguel O'Hara has a soft spot for you. He tries to hide it and you refuse to let him. You haven't tried to kiss him or anything (you secretly aren't that brave) but you run circles around him for fun, only letting him boss you around every now and then to keep things loose. You could be much meaner about the whole thing: what is so humiliating as falling for your lackadaisical subordinate? But you don't hold it against him, because he likely isn't finished falling yet, and because you really do like him. 
You pull your mask off of your face and then your gloves, shoving them into a concealed pocket on your thigh. 
"Miguel," you murmur, knowing he'll hear you no matter the volume, "what's wrong?" 
Miguel doesn't glance your way. 
Peter B. Parker's shoulders sag in relief at your appearance. "Thank god you're here," he says. 
You hadn't realised Peter knew who you were. "I'm here," you repeat mildly. 
"Tell Miguel that the risk involved with visiting Earth-1610 is super, duper small." 
"Well, it is negligible," you murmur, though Peter's quest isn't your prerogative. 
Miguel groans loud and unapologetically. 
You stand near Miguel and look up at him. He's ridiculously tall. You’d have to crane your neck if you stood at his feet. You maintain some distance and look him over from a gentler incline, cataloguing the dark circles under his eyes for the hundredth time. They don't look too bad today, but you wish he'd get more rest. 
He has a very fierce face, but you know how it softens when he laughs. It's hard to find his glaring intimidating when you've witnessed the white flash of sharp teeth as he smiles, the way his eyes light up and his eyebrows relax from their stern set when you bring him something to eat on late nights. It's almost always smothered as soon as it happens, but it does happen. 
"The risk involved is not super small," he says, still not looking at you, "the risk involved is actually incredibly big, and it isn't worth it." 
Peter puts his arms out just as Mayday drops from the rafters above. You huff a laugh at his coordination and Mayday starts to laugh, her knitted beanie drooping into her eyes. 
"Hi, baby," you say softly, reaching out to hold her hand. She squeezes your fingers. 
"It's worth the risk. Absolutely, it's worth the risk, and I would argue that me visiting would actually strengthen the state of the multiverse–" 
"In what scenario–" 
"–and, like, make your job easier." Peter stops Mayday from climbing up your shoulder. 
"If there's one thing you've never done, Peter, it's make my job easier. I can't believe you're asking me again," Miguel says, taking a big breath, like he's going to pop. 
You step away from Peter to catch Miguel's attention. When his eyes lock onto yours, you smile as fondly as you're able, the kind of smile you know he likes. Your eyes widen just a touch and your eyebrows rise, the corners of your mouth not quite dimpling. It's a smile that says all the same stuff you love to say aloud. Hi, handsome. What's got you so stressed today? 
"Don't be like that, Miguel," Peter says. 
You tilt your head to one side. "You don't look very well," you say. 
"I'm fine." There's a thread of gentleness there, almost indistinguishable from his serious tone. "Or I would be, if Peter would listen to me for once." 
"I'm listening, man, I just think you should see sense." 
Miguel's face flickers like he wants to correct him, but he keeps getting caught on you. Nothing specific, just that his gaze lands on your face or your shoulder or your arm before he looks at Peter, and all the steam rushes out of him. He’s trying not to smile at you.
"I see sense," Miguel insists. It's like he wants to be angrier than he has, gritting his teeth weakly. "It's not feasible right now." 
You smile at that. Right now. You're not sure he's ever said something that could lead to a compromise. You are sure that he hadn't meant to. Peter is understandably thrilled, hiding his own smile as he puts Mayday back into her carrier. 
"Alright. Well, I've gotta take her home. But I'll see you both again soon," Peter threatens, wiggling his eyebrows. "Thank you," he adds, nodding at you. 
You laugh as he leaves. Miguel is nowhere near as pleased. 
"You did that on purpose," Miguel says. 
"I did what on purpose?" 
"Coming in here." 
"Yeah, of course. I come to see you all the time on purpose. Did you think I was drifting in here on the breeze? That would be difficult, considering." You gesture to the entrance of his office, which is far from easily accessible. 
Miguel looks at you, unimpressed, with his hands on his hips. You wonder what it would take to make him put his hands on yours. 
"Don't even think about it," he says. 
"About what, handsome?" 
"You think I don't know what that look means?" He sounds fond rather than angry. It's a win. 
"I bet you know, but I'm in the dark, so if you'd… illuminate it for me, that would be greatly appreciated." 
He checks that no one's about to enter his office. You feel your heart jerk in your chest, and if his super senses are anything like the other Spider People, he can hear it. 
"You really can't come in here when I'm trying to set people straight," he says. 
"Why?" you ask. You could pout at him, but you think that might be too much. 
"You know why." Somewhere between words he drifts closer, soundless, his face inching down toward yours with a surprising swiftness. "You know why," he repeats.
You lift your chin as much as you dare, which isn't much, but enough that your giggly confirmation fans over his lips, "Yes, I do." 
He nudges you away, and it isn't without affection. His warm, big hand lingers on your shoulder, even as he says, "Go, go do something." 
"Miguel, I came to see you." 
"I know, and I have a meeting with Jess in a minute, so you can't be here. It'll undermine my authority." 
"What will?" you ask, smiling, because you already know. His fondness for you. 
"Go away. Come and see me later," he says. 
You sigh and spin away from him. "I will, but not because you told me to!" you call, leaving the office with an awful sense of victory. 
Miguel scrubs his face with his hands as you go. He's really not sure what he's going to do with you. His plan to hold you at arm’s length isn’t working anymore, and honestly? He doesn’t think he could stand it a minute longer. Thank whoever’s watching over him that you actually do as he asks for once and leave. 
Miguel was one sweet smile away from kissing you up against the wall.
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magicpotatothoughts · 1 month
Text
TGCF reread new finds #1
Xie Lian actively and consciously knows that he is attracted to HC the MOMENT THEY MEET in the Ox Cart. Like it’s not just blank gay panic, he knows.
His beauty was deadly like a sword, sharp and mesmerising. Xie Lian only met his eyes for a moment, then lowered his eyes in defeat.
MATE, normally wouldn’t you continue to be mesmerised and can’t peel your eyes away? That is, UNLESS YOURE WHIPPED. XL knows that SL's looks affect him to this degree. Defeat is the key word here.
Also
The distance between them had closed too fast. he suddenly didn't know what to do[...]Xie Lian blanked on the spot. He watched as the tall and slender youth walked away with his giant bag of junk as if it were the most natural thing in the world to do, and it made him mutter inwardly, Forgive my sins.
Making a rich young lad carry your things? Making him sleep in your crappy temple? That doesn't warrant the weighty thought? FORGIVE WHAT SINS Xie Lian??!!!
Many village girls saw (HC) and blushed [...] Xie Lian didn't know what they were going to ask, but felt instinctively that it must be stopped at once, and cried, "No!"
Jealous jealous boi! XL WAS POSSESSIVE after ONE night spent together at Puqi Shrine. Didn’t XL just say to SL that he will have no problem in the love department because girls will throw themselves at him? Yo, why are you cock-blocking? Everyone says HC is insane, no XL is equally insane for the other!
Also, when HC revealed that it's his real skin after the Banyue arc, XL instinctively poked him. Then
He looked at his own finger then hid it away, betraying nothing of his thoughts.
What thoughts XL ?!! Explain yourself right now!
Jumping back to OX CART scene, Xie Lian's character development was foreshadowed when they were talking about the gifting of ghost ashes.
Book 1: Xie Lian sighed. "It certainly is painful to think about, to have given everything for love and lose everything in return."
This is what Xie Lian is most afraid of! Like even thinking back to Xie Lian pushing Feng Xin away in Book 4, he definitely operated under that mindset. Love is a risk, it's something to be feared. Even now 800+ years later, he still feels that way and doesn't allow himself to get close to anyone. It just hits so much harder thinking that he operated under that for so many centuries.
Then Hua Cheng says
"What there to be afraid of? If it were me, I'd have no regrets giving away my ashes"
Which I think really changed the way that Xie Lian thought about love. Book 5 Xie Lian completely operates with Love is empowering and isn't something to be afraid of.
TGCF isn't about XL realising his feelings, literally from Book 1 it's about him wondering if it's worthwhile to act on them.
Three things, is this person worth losing cultivation over for?
He needs the reassurance that this person must reciprocate his feelings.
Then HC changed his perspective on love from FEAR -> EMPOWERMENT.
XL is soooo self-aware (unlike SQQ from SVSSS and WWX from MDZS), he's an unreliable narrator in the way that he doesn't reveal everything to the reader, especially his own feelings until he was absolutely sure that there really was both a physical and romantic attraction. I wanted to make this post to dispel the assumption for XL it was easy to forego 800+ years of cultivation. It was not? He ABSOLUTELY thought about it carefully.
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ssahotchnerr · 7 months
Note
Aaron making hot chocolate for his little girl 😭😭😭😭 she only wants his and can tell if someone else has made it, and flat out REFUSES to drink it. Reader calls Aaron on the phone during a case and all he can hear is his daughter crying in the background and reader is like “wtf do you put in this hot chocolate??? Coke???????” because reader just cannot get it right despite Aaron walking them through the process of his hot chocolate before 😭 maybe Aaron talks on the phone with daughter for a bit to calm her down and the promise of unlimited hot chocolate once he comes home AHHHHHHH
dad's way
please 😭 and the way i literally had a hot cocoa candle burning as i worked on this cw; fem!reader, food descriptions, brief picky eater talk, girl dad!aaron <333333
"hi sweetheart-"
the shriek on the other end immediately caused him to hold his phone an inch or two away. it was piercing and loud, even for his bad ear.
concern had already swarmed his chest before the cry had ceased, and the room suddenly felt a bit hotter. "honey? is everything alright?"
there was a brief rustling sound, a small clattering of what he assumed was dishes, the close of a cabinet following after. "how do you make your hot chocolate?"
"why-"
"how, do you make your hot chocolate." you interrupted him, your voice distancing a bit for a moment, "dada's on the phone, it's okay."
"oh." aaron chuckled softly as realization hit, his voice filled with a tinge of pity. "someone's upset."
"tell me about it." you sighed in defeat, exasperation clear. "apparently, whatever i make isn't good enough. i've given her three different cups already. three. well, given the third was a reattempt of number one. but with whipped cream and sprinkles. jack too tried to persuade her, but nope. it's daddy's hot chocolate and daddy's hot chocolate only."
"is it in the right mug?"
"the one with all the little ladybugs? yup."
"okay," aaron quickly excused himself - he was still sat amongst the rest of the team, who were silently digging through records - jj shot him a sympathetic glance as he got up. he trailed down the short hallway outside the conference room, in search of a more secluded area to give instructions. "well, i usually-"
aaron walked you through it - steaming the milk, at just the right temperature. adding the cocoa mix, a little extra than the standard serving size. mini marshmallows, and the secret ingredient you had missed - adding a touch of vanilla extract. it was simple, really, but your daughter was a stickler.
she wasn't a picky eater, but was very adamant on how things were made or presented. for example, if two foods next to each other on a plate happened to merge - it was the end of the world. and when it came to aaron's hot chocolate, she couldn't get enough of it. she asked for it nightly, promptly right after dinner. she always insisted on sitting on the counter as aaron made it, watching intently and asking questions on what he was doing. it was their thing together. and more than likely, his absence was aiding to the current meltdown.
"here," aaron hears you say, your daughter's cries lessening for a moment. "this is dada's."
there was a moment's pause, and aaron could easily visualize your daughter analyzing the drink, her eyebrows furrowing in that hotchner way that was just genetic at this point - jack had it too. but as you both already anticipated, another wail produced in response.
"nooooo it's not!"
aaron heard you tiredly sigh, and he was quick to offer more assistance. "want me to talk to her?"
"please."
another shuffle came from your end of the phone, handing it to your daughter. there was a slightly louder sniffle, indicating she was close and listening.
"hi sweetheart," aaron softened his voice, his heartstrings tugging as he silently wished he was home, with you all, rather than a few states away. "what's the matter?"
another sharp sniffle. "i want your hot chocolate."
"i know bug," he consoled softly. again, his heart breaking at her small, upset voice. "but since i'm at work, mom's gonna have to make it for you."
she hesitated, bottom lip quivering. another small wail was quick to follow. "but i want yours."
"i know, but i told momma how i make it, so it'll taste exactly the same, i promise. she put all her love in it too, just like i do. which, do you wanna know a secret?"
that grabbed her attention, her cries stilling so fast it was almost humorous. "uh huh."
"that's the secret ingredient that makes it taste so good, whether mom or i make it. but you can't tell your brother that, okay? it'll be our secret."
"okay."
"so tonight, can you drink mom's hot chocolate? she worked really hard to make it special, just for you." she quieted, still unsure, so aaron switched tactics. "and when i get home, i'll make you two cups. with extra, extra marshmallows. how does that sound?"
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renoed · 3 months
Text
sweet tooth | halsin x reader
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❥ — PAIRING halsin x afab! reader
❥ — SUMMARY Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters.
# NSFW, MDNI: smut below the cut, outdoor sex, food play (specifically honey), oral sex, spit, praise, fingering, finger sucking
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"If I manage to break the curse… perhaps then I can show you just how grateful I am."
Halsin had been tiptoeing around your advances since you had met; he had made his eagerness clear to you but refused to follow through with it, always with something else on his mind. The more he opens up to you, though, the weaker his resolve is to stay entirely focused on other, supposedly more important matters. It isn't until tonight that you notice it.
When you set up camp, you notice that he's put his tent quite a distance away from anyone else. You often found him in a location that was further from everyone (he liked his solitude, you assumed), but the space between your tent and his would make it seem as though you were strangers. From your place next to the campfire, you could hardly see more than an outline of the druid.
It's when he doesn't join you for food that you begin to worry - had he decided he didn't want to travel with you anymore? Was he going to leave without warning?
"Gale," you grab the brunet's attention after you finish eating, "thank you again for cooking. I was wondering: do we still have that honey? I remember Halsin saying he has a sweet tooth—I thought it might be appreciated."
Gale's lips quirk up at your question, a suggestive eyebrow raising as he answers your question, "I believe we do, you should be able to find it—unopened—in that trunk besides the other camp supplies. I hope you make better use of it than I have."
You try your best to ignore the implication of his words, but suddenly the camp fire feels a lot warmer and the cool breeze is soothing against your cheeks. As you walk off, mumbling a thanks, you hear a light laugh from the wizard.
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With a jar of honey and a small satchel of berries (you had remembered picking them up a few hours prior, excitedly rummaging for them in your bag) in your hands, you stood a few feet away from Halsin's tent, trying to find the courage to start a conversation. Usually it didn't feel difficult; if anything, you found him to be one of the easiest to talk to. But with the thought of him no longer wanting to travel together—no longer enjoying your company—it was as though you had become enwebbed, unable to move closer.
It felt like you were there for tens of minutes before Halsin appeared from his tent, turning to look at you, a soft 'oh' leaving his lips.
If you weren't already stuck in place, you had become so when his eyes met yours.
"I didn't realise you were here, apologies," his voice is gentle and he steps towards you in the dark, "did you need something?"
You look down at the jar in your hands and will yourself to speak, "You didn't eat with us, so I wanted to make sure everything was alright, I suppose."
A beat.
"—And I remembered you telling me you liked sweet things. I wanted to give you this."
Halsin lets his eyes drift down to your hands, which were now outstretched, before meeting your gaze again. His lips curl up into a smile and you swear that you can see the stars reflected in his eyes. It hits you that, if he really is thinking about leaving, you might not get another opportunity to talk to him like this again.
"I don't know what I've done for a gift, but thank you. Really."
He takes a step closer, taking the items in his hands, as he continues, "I'm sorry for not joining you, my mind has been rather… preoccupied, and I thought it best to spend some time alone. I've also been enjoying the company of the stars: aren't they beautiful tonight?"
You shift your eyes to look at the night sky. A crescent moon hangs amongst a cluster of stars, stretching out across the darkness. He's right, they are beautiful.
"You said you've been preoccupied? If you need my help, you know I'm just an ask away," the sincerity of your words causes a small chuckle to leave his lips, gaze falling from the sky to his feet.
"Believe me, I would love for you to help, but that would be an unfair request."
The statement is slightly confusing; he seemed to have no issues asking for help with considerably difficult tasks prior. You could hardly fathom the sheer size of a task was if Halsin felt he couldn't ask for your help.
Betrayed by your expression, he lets out another laugh, louder this time, "you misunderstand, it's simply a matter of personal frustration. Unfortunately, I've managed to get rather pent up."
It isn't until you hear those words—'pent up'—that you realise the meaning behind them. You recalled him making an off-hand comment at the Tiefling party about how he was ‘sure that we could get out any pent up feelings'. He had never acted on his words, of course, but he had put them out there nonetheless.
"It wouldn't be unfair at all," your voice comes out quieter than you intend it to, "actually, I'd be more than happy to help and I think you know that, Halsin."
His eyes meet yours again, expression still soft and gentle under the soft glow of the moon. He takes a step towards you, so that your chests are almost touching. You don't break eye contact, newfound confidence surging through you.
He brings his face close to yours, peering down at you, “you’re sure it would be alright?”
You nod in response, his eyes momentarily widening before he uses his free hand to lightly hold your upper arm. His voice is a soft whisper when it leaves his mouth, “Gods, I can’t tell you how long I have wanted this.”
Halsin closes the space between you, drawing you into a kiss. His hand shifts from your arm to your cheek, the pads of his fingers are rough on your skin but they’re the last things you’re thinking about with his lips pressed to yours.
The kiss is quick, almost polite in its softness, and as Halsin pulls away, you feel your brows furrow.
“Your expression betrays you,” there's a humour to his tone, “would you like me to try again?”
You answer his question with another kiss, hands wrapping around the back of his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. It's deeper this time, more passionate, needier, and when Halsin's tongue brushes against your bottom lip, you're quick to comply with the silent request.
When you lightly tug on his hair, parting from the kiss, a low groan tumbles from his lips and rushes straight through you.
"You're good at this," his thumb brushes your cheek as he kisses you again. His kisses move down your face and neck, occasionally licking and biting at the skin until a shaky exhale leaves your lips. Your legs feel weak and every inch of you is warm, rushed heartbeat echoing in your ears; if you weren't so distracted you'd assume he could hear it.
When he pauses his movements, you take the opportunity to tug on his hair again, letting one of your hands fall from his neck to his chest, slowly getting lower, "just good?"
He hums when your finger tugs on his waistband, "amazing. Perfect, even."
You slide your hand underneath his shirt and he takes a sharp inhale at the contact. It had been so long since the last time someone had touched him like this; it had been longer since he had wanted to be touched—and to touch—so desperately. As you try to lift his top, though, he pulls back and gestures to the jar in his hand. You expect him to just put it down and continue, however you're left slightly disappointed when he breaks away from you entirely and opens the jar. His fingers dip into the jar, pulling out a string of glistening, viscous honey and bringing it to his lips.
You're left to watch helplessly, his tongue dragging from the base of his fingers to the tip and humming at the sweetness of the substance. It was impossible not to let your mind cloud over with images of those same fingers covered with your slick, dipping them into his mouth.
"Come here," it's a command, but it's gentle, easing you into doing as he says, "try some."
Halsin dips his fingers into the honey again, this time lifting his fingers to your lips. You take them in your mouth and run your tongue across them, enjoying the taste of the honey but entirely more focused on keeping your gaze locked with Halsin's. He lightly pumps them in and out of your mouth, cursing under his breath when you move your head to match the gentle pace.
You'd become used to Halsin being so composed and articulate—seeing him reduced to swears and fervent touches made you crave more of him, releasing his fingers and pulling him into another feverish kiss. You both moan into it, hands wanderings across each other's bodies: groping and grasping, trying to remove articles of clothing without pulling your lips away.
His hands land at the top of your thighs, tugging on them in a request for you to jump and hook your legs around his waist. He holds you in one arm with ease, using the other to tug at your shirt.
You kiss his neck, his grip tightening around you in response as his eyes flutter closed to enjoy the sensation.
"Please," he breathes out your name like a prayer, "I want you."
Leaning back, you stare into his eyes, kissing him again, "Gods, I thought you'd never ask."
Halsin puts you down and you rush to undress each other, sharing kisses whenever your hands aren't in the way. His body is incredible, and you're caught unashamedly staring from your sitting position as he tugs off the last of his clothes.
"You're really beautiful, you know?"
He smiles at your words, letting his eyes wander across you in a similar manner, "beautiful isn't enough to describe you."
When he gets onto his knees you can't help yourself from thinking of the sight as holy.
You watch as he dips his fingers into the honey jar and lifts them above your legs, letting it drip onto your skin like a gold glaze. It's cold and sticky but when he drags his tongue against you, licking the honey with it, you've all but forgotten the feeling.
His other hand, free of honey, lightly trails between your legs before stopping and running a finger between your folds.
"Fuck, you're soaked" if you weren't so eager, you'd be embarrassed. He had hardly touched you, yet your body was already begging for more.
He presses feather-light kisses up your inner thigh, taking his time as he follows and licks at the trail of honey, occasionally stopping to suck and nip at your skin, smiling when a soft gasp is drawn from your lips, "good girl."
Before he stops between your legs, he shifts to your hips and continues his upwards trails. You whine at the feelings of his lips around your nipple, lightly grazing his teeth against it while he thumbs and rolls the other in his fingers. You aren't sure if it's what he's doing or just him, but the touch is enough to make you moan, lightly bucking your hips into him.
"Impatient are we?" he chuckles, kissing back down to your thighs
When he's tasted the last of the honey, spread across the top of your thigh, he moves back slightly and watches as you squirm in anticipation.
"Did you want something else from me?" his voice is low and sickly sweet as he grabs your right thigh, rubbing soft circles in the skin with his thumb.
You nod in response, gasping out a slightly frustrated 'yes please', which is all he needs to start kissing again, trailing up the skin until his lips land on your cunt. He places one more kiss before using his tongue, dragging it upwards until it prods at your clit. You feel yourself throb under him, lightly bucking your hips forward as he drags his tongue in slow, circular motions.
He presses a finger inside you, thrusting a couple of times before curling it up. You moan under his touch, moving a hand to thread into his hair, desperately helping to create friction by grinding against his mouth.
His grip on your thighs tightens and he hikes one of your legs over his shoulder before slipping a second finger inside of you. It's overwhelming in the best possible way and when he leans back, only to spit on your cunt, you feel yourself clench around his fingers.
After a few thrusts, he lowers his mouth back onto your clit, flattening his tongue against it to lick and rub. His unused hand has an iron grip on your thigh, moving it so he could get his fingers deeper inside, curling them into you until a knot forms in your stomach. You instinctively grind your hips against his face, moaning as he begins to speed up. His actions are filled with need and when he feels your thighs twitch he takes that as a sign to continue, building you up to your edge.
You can only whine in pleasure when he moves his hand from your thigh to your abdomen, pressing down on it lightly. Your body twitches again and when he presses his tongue down onto your clit slightly harder it causes your thighs to instinctively close around him, bringing you to orgasm.
Halsin pulls away as you both catch your breath. From his position above you, he can’t help but think you’re the prettiest person he’s ever seen. He takes his fingers into his mouth and sucks them clean, sitting back onto his knees and taking his cock into his other hand. He strokes himself as you shift to sit facing him, legs weak and breathing still heavy.
Leaning forward, you replace his hand with yours before bringing him into another kiss. He grunts when you pull away, circling your thumb around his tip and pressing kisses onto his chest and neck.
“Are you sure you want this?” he asks, voice desperate and needy.
“Gods, Halsin, yes. I want this— I want you.”
You can barely finish your sentence before your back is on the grass again, caged in the druid’s arms. He pushes a knee between your legs and lowers himself to kiss you again. You’re ready to start begging him to fuck you when he moves to position himself at your entrance.
He doesn’t move, just lifts his head to meet your gaze with a teasing grin on his face, “I can’t give you what you want unless you tell me.”
You don’t care about your pride, cursing before sputtering out, “I want you to fuck me, please, Halsin.”
The reaction is almost instant. Halsin sinks into you slowly, gently, keeping eye contact until you’ve taken every inch of him. He thrusts into you, drawing out a whiney moan, and leans down to kiss and nip at your lips.
Your name tumbles from his lips, unrelenting as he grabs your waist to push himself deeper into you, “Fuck— you feel so good”
His full attention is on you, moving a hand so he can thumb at your clit while pounding into you. A broken gasp escapes you, tightening around his cock at the touch, which gains a low groan in response. 
You're a writhing mess beneath him, hands searching for anything they can grab onto. Halsin slows his pace so he can adjust your leg onto his shoulder, leaning forwards and sweeping up both your hands into one of his. The position lets him hit even deeper, the feeling is overwhelming, unable to stop the endless string of moans leaving your lips.
His pace is relentless, only slowing to carefully adjust the position so he could keep thumbing at your clit easily. You lift your head and he meets you halfway in a kiss. He leans down to your ear, breathing heavy, and groans out your name, "I want you to cum for me."
Just the words themselves have you clenching around his cock again, but when he presses harder into your clit, already overly sensitive and stimulated, it pushes you over the edge again, moaning out his name. The sensation is enough to have Halsin on the brink of his own orgasm, pace stuttering slightly.
By Gods does he never want this moment to end, he could mistake it for Heaven.
Your name is all he can manage to say as he continues, pulling out of you almost fully before rocking his hips back into you. The hand on your clit leaves to grasp at your hips, pulling you down onto him. He can feel you throb around him, "I'm gonna—"
He pulls out at the last second, decorating your thighs and stomach with strings of his cum. The sight is almost enough for him to bring his tongue back down to your cunt, indulging in you more, but you're both exhausted and it takes everything in him not to collapse onto you.
"Let me clean you up," he manages between heavy breaths, moving away to grab a clean rag and wipe you down, "you're absolutely wonderful, I hope you know that."
Halsin leans down to kiss you; it's tender and gentle, you can't help but smile into it.
"I could say the same for you," comes your reply, "come lie with me?"
It takes no convincing before Halsin is lying at your side, arms wrapped around you. Any thoughts you had had about him leaving the camp are long forgotten and you can feel yourself begin drifting off in the comfort of his warm grasp.
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reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [masterlist]
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 9 months
Text
So Much To Teach
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: quite a few; dom Spencer kinda, oral (f receiving), age gap; reader is 21+ but it's a lil dubious by default bc he's her professor and therefore an authority figure but shhhh its fine shhhh, fingering, marking a little bit, p in v sex, they both talking diiiiirty, minor praise, risky sex, multiple orgasms, edging- I think I got everything??
Genre: Smut
Summary: You want your professor's attention but you had no idea what would happen if you got it- you also had no idea you'd get it by talking to a classmate
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Part 2
***
Professor Reid is by far your favorite teacher ever and you make sure to make it as obvious as you can get away with. You're always early to his class, you sit in the front row, ask questions as often as you can, take full advantage of his office hours- all of it. You're determined to make Spencer Reid think of you as often as you think of him. Unbeknownst to you, you didn't need to put so much effort into capturing his attention. Not that you'd ever be able to tell, Spencer is always the epitome of professionalism. Well, almost always. He's human after all and you- you might as well be a siren. On the days you come in wearing your shortest skirts, toying with the hem absentmindedly, it's practically impossible for him to keep his gaze above your desk. He's not careless though, only allowing himself to stare when he's not the focus, during exams for example. He especially loves presentation days because he can spend them shamelessly eye-fucking you while you're busy addressing the class. You never seem to notice the way his attention drifts to you, and he's counting his lucky stars for it. He's plenty aware of the implications of his little crush. He wouldn't be so stupid as to make a move on you, especially while you're still his student. Spencer has spent more than enough time convincing himself that the risks outweigh the reward. For now, he'll have to be content watching you from a distance, even when you saunter into his office in your tight blouses to discuss your homework. On those days he knows the memory of your boobs practically spilling out of those shirts will keep him up for at least another hour later that night.
Weeks of your silent game that you're sure he's not actually picking up on have you growing bored of focusing only on getting his attention. Sure you want him to think about you, but you're not so crazy to think he'd risk his job to say, bend you over his office desk like you so desperately wish he would every time you go in there. You're young and in college and while the boys here do not hold your attention the same way, you're not above a little distraction. Which is why today you walk into class chatting with another student, a guy named Matt who has been trying to get you to notice him for a while now. Professor Reid isn't in the class yet and you hop on top of your desk as you talk to Matt about some sports thing. You're not totally following but he's cute so you giggle and pretend you get it, swinging your legs and batting your eyelashes in the way you know college boys respond so well to. You hardly even notice Spencer enter the classroom, but he zeros in immediately on the sight of you smiling at some kid. Matt's a good student, Spencer really has nothing against him, but he rolls his eyes at the two of you knowing that Matt would never be able to keep up with you.
"Quiet down everyone. Miss y/n your butt belongs in a seat, not on a desk and Mister Lewis I suggest you find somewhere to sit as well so we can begin." Spencer addresses you and Matt sharply, catching you off guard. He's never spoken to you that way but you can't help the amused look on your face as you mutter an affirmative and hop off the desk to sit in your chair. Maybe something's going on that put him in a bad mood. The class goes by smoothly after that and Matt is at your desk as soon as Spencer dismisses you all. Spencer has to turn his back to the room to hide the way his face twists up watching you.
The next class again, you walk in with Matt, this time Spencer is there already so you sit directly in your seat but Matt stays and talks to you while you wait for class to officially start. Spencer has to tamp his desire to break the conversation up for no reason until enough students pile in that he begins the lesson. This goes on for two more sessions, you walk in with Matt, twirling your hair, giggling at him, flaunting your gorgeous figure in flattering outfits that he openly gawks at you in, all while Spencer tries to keep himself from the edge of insanity. He has no right to be so put out by this, you're a student for crying out loud. He tries to remember that, tries hard to keep himself in check even as Matt basically invades your personal space as you're sitting on your desk before class again. You let him get entirely too close for Spencer's liking and when he sees you lean forward he can't stop himself from interrupting.
"Miss y/n." Spencer drawls out in a way that makes you want to shiver. "I've already told you desktops are not for sitting. Don't make me tell you again." Spencer says effectively ruining whatever was about to happen between you and Matt. He even backs off to let you get down from your desk.
"I'll see you after class okay?" You tell Matt sweetly and Spencer absolutely cannot take any more of this. He begins his lecture though his mind is somewhere else through most of it. He's busy planning. When the time comes and he dismisses the class Matt is quickly making his way to you and Spencer realizes he has to move now.
"Miss y/n. You don't have a class after this do you?" Spencer asks.
"No professor. Is something the matter?" You ask.
"There's something I'd like to discuss with you. Come with me to my office." He instructs.
"O-okay?" You frown. Matt does too from where he stopped when Spencer called your name. Spencer waits for you to finish collecting your things before he heads towards the class's exit. "I'll- I'll catch you later I guess Matt." You say over your shoulder before following Spencer. You try to think what this could be about. Your last paper was great, you know it was, plus there's no way he's through grading those yet, you aced the most recent test you took- there's no way he's calling you into his office because of the desk-sitting thing- is there? When you reach Spencer's office he shuts the door behind you and stands on the other side of his desk. He doesn't sit- which you find strange but nothing about this has been normal thus far.
"Is there a problem sir?" You ask sitting down.
"Is there a problem?! You- never mind. No y/n, no problem." Spencer forces himself to restrain that overwhelming urge he has to yell over Matt or simply split you open on his desk, or in his office chair, or against the wall- he shakes the thought from his mind, scrambling for an excuse for calling you to his office. "I just wanted to discuss something from- your paper."
"Oh you've started grading the papers?" You ask. He's only just gotten to them. He doesn't even think he's graded yours all the way through yet but he can't tell you the truth, that you're only here so you didn't walk out with Matt.
"Yes I have and there was something interesting... in your paper. I just need to find it, give me- a minute." Spencer shuffles through things on his desk, he's stalling and he hopes you don't notice.
"Professor Reid?" You tilt your head at him.
"Just a minute y/n." He mutters.
"Professor." You frown, your voice is forceful enough that he glances up at you. "I know you know exactly where my paper is. And I know that if there was really something you wanted to discuss in said paper you'd already have it memorized. You're almost irritatingly punctilious, I've been in your office more than enough times to know that. So what's really going on?"
"I suppose I should've expected this from one of my smartest students." He muses with a shake of his head.
"I know we're not friends by any means since you're my professor and all but we're both adults and I hope you'd respect me enough to tell me the truth." You tell him.
"Believe me I am trying very hard."
"To tell the truth or respect me?" You cross your arms.
"I respect you implicitly and because of that telling the truth here is- conflicting."
"Professor Reid, what am I doing in your office? I've asked you much harder questions than that in class."
"If only you knew." He scoffs.
"Professor-"
"You're right. I didn't call you in here to discuss a paper." He sighs knowing he's out of escapes. "It's that boy you've been draping yourself over all month." Spencer says through clenched teeth.
"Matt? You called me in here to discuss Matt? Why? Is he failing or something?"
"No. He maintains a solid B average in my class."
"Okay, then I'm really not understanding professor. What does Matt have to do with anything?" You shake your head.
"It is infuriating to watch him with you as if he has even the slightest chance of satisfying you in any way." Spencer walks over to you as he speaks, punctuating his sentence by leaning against the arms of your chair which forces you to lean back.
"And- what makes you the authority on who could satisfy me?" You ask breathily, blinking up at him.
"Considering you haven't even tried to move away from me I'd guess you know as well as I do." Spencer stares at you intently.
"Are you making a move on me professor?" You ask with feigned innocence that you know he sees through.
"Am I not being clear enough?" He asks.
"I dunno."
"Then allow me to make myself unequivocal." Spencer closes the small gap between you two, pressing his lips against yours fiercely. His hands hold your face as he pours all of his feelings and frustrations into this kiss. You grab hold of his wrists as you surrender yourself to the feeling of his mouth on yours. When he finally pulls away you're both left panting but a dam has been broken with that single kiss and your hands are pulling off his tie before he's even realized it. You stand up and kiss him again, fingers tangling in his hair, while his hands settle against your waist easily. He doesn't let you lead things for long, turning you both to sit you on his desk. "I'm going to show you everything that silly boy could never give you." Spencer grumbles against your lips.
"I never pegged you for the jealous type Professor Reid." You giggle.
"I've never been good at sharing." He quips kissing his way down your throat.
"Go figure." You mutter with a breathy sigh when his kisses turn to nips and sucks. "Careful. If you visibly mark me I'll have to lie." You tell him which only seems to spur him on and you yelp after a particularly harsh bite.
"Lie?" He frowns at you.
"I mean I can't very well say 'Professor Reid gave me those hickies' now can I?" You say and Spencer laughs as he drops into the chair in front of you.
"No, I suppose not, but you can absolutely use them to let people know you're taken." He says shuffling closer to you and pulling your underwear off from under your skirt.
"By people you mean Matt don't you?" You smile, amused at how miffed he is over your little distraction.
"Say his name again in here and I'll turn that ass of yours so red that you'll still have trouble sitting by next class." Spencer glances up at you with a warning look that has your exposed cunt clenching around nothing. An action he doesn't catch, seeing as your skirt is still hiding your center from him. He bunches your skirt up at your hips as he lifts you onto his desk and adjusts your legs so your feet are on it, knees wide so he can simply watch how your pussy glistens for a moment. His gaze is intense and soon you're squirming against the dark wood he's displayed you on.
"Professor Reid, touch me- please." You pout at him.
"Someone's getting impatient huh? You just look so pretty I can't help but want to stare." His words make you blush and the restlessness gets worse as he leisurely folds the sleeves of his button down shirt to reveal his forearms.
"Please professor-" You sigh.
"I like hearing you beg." Spencer's grin is nothing short of sadistic but he leans forward and lets his tongue drag through your wetness with a satisfied groan. He shifts to hold your legs open as he feasts on you like a man starved. It's hard to keep track of his tongue, thrusting in and out of you, circling your clit, disappearing entirely as he suckles harshly on the bundle of nerves all with incredible veracity. It's like he figured out how to read your body before he even began and he's got you teetering on the edge faster than you'd like to admit. Your hands tug desperately at his brown hair as you feel your orgasm building. Before you can even warn him of your incoming release he's switching his tactic, dragging you back from that end, still pleasing you but rather than feeding the fire he's simply maintaining it where it is.
"No!" You whine before you can stop yourself when you feel your orgasm slipping further away. His responding chuckle only adds to your frustration.
"If you're gonna cum princess it'll be when I'm ready for you to. Understood?" Spencer doesn't even lift his head as he speaks. He nips at your swollen clit when you don't answer and after a yelp, you manage a response.
"Y-yes sir." You get out.
"Good girl." He mutters lapping at your juices yet again. Same as before, he easily works you towards the edge with his tongue in all the right places, and like before, when your orgasm is in reach he walks you backwards. This time you manage to hold back your sound of frustration and then his fingers enter the mix and your small whimpers become full on whines as he curls two digits inside you just right to have you arching off of his desk. With his mouth focused solely on your clit while his fingers thrust in and out of you diligently, not to mention the previous denials, you're practically shaking as he works you up again.
"Professor Reid please let me cum this time, please sir- fuck I can't- I need to cum so bad. Please professor- I- I can't. Oh god." Your breathless pleas are barely sensible, but they satisfy Spencer and he doesn't pull back this time, doesn't stop until you're clenching around his fingers and spasming on his desk, struggling to handle the impact of your own orgasm. He watches the way pure ecstasy washes over your face with a smirk on his face as he helps you through it with gentle strokes of his fingers. When your breathless gasps become more subdued he pulls his hand away from your center. Before you can fully recover, Spencer pulls you off of the desk and turns your back to him, bending you over the desk with a hand at your back.
"Fuck- I need a condom." He mutters.
"Do you have any?"
"I- no? I don't regularly fuck people in my office y/n."
"I- have one in my bag. Front pocket." You mutter. Spencer reaches for your backpack and grabs the condom quickly, rolling it on with ease.
"I'm going to absolutely ruin you for anyone else." He tells you before thrusting himself into you. Inch by inch he slides deeper inside you and pinned against his desk all you can do is moan at the fullness. He sets a rhythm as soon as he bottoms out, his dick dragging against your walls with each hard thrust. 
"Fuck- god that feels good." You mewl.
"Yeah? You like the way my dick splits you open don't you? Knew you would. You're absolutely perfect for me. Just me. Isn't that right?" He grunts through his filthy words, each one punctuated with another forceful thrust.
"Yeah- yes. God- yes."
"Say it. Say your mine princess."
"I- I'm yours sir. All yours. N-no one else's. No one else could fuck me like this- m-make me feel like this. Just you. Holy sh-shit." You pant out. Spencer's thrusts are rocking the entire desk at this point and you are sure the skin where your hips are ramming against the edge will be sore tomorrow but right now all you can focus on is how good it feels to be fucked like this. Better than you imagined and god you hope he never stops.
"Good girl." He breathes out.
"Feels so good Professor." You whine.
"I know, fuck I know. You feel so perfect y/n." Spencer groans. His hand wraps around your throat and pulls your back against his chest as he fucks you. Spencer's other hand, slides across your waist, finding your clit easily. He toys with the bundle of nerves and your hands grip the edge of the desk as you whine.
"Oh my god." You gasp.
"Let go for me y/n. Wanna feel you on my dick."  Spencer says, kissing your shoulder. Your hand grabs at his arm desperate to ground yourself as your orgasm washes over you. Spencer hisses, your nails digging into his skin deliciously. His hips stutter and he groans, long and deep, as he spills into his condom, face buried in your neck. You both remain where you are, panting in the aftermath of it for several moments before Spencer breaks the silence.
"Did you have a condom because you planned on fucking Matt?" He asks and you can't help but laugh.
"No, I just always carry some. I like preparedness." You say, stuttering a bit when Spencer chooses to slip out of you while you speak.
"I'll have to start keeping some in here." He says, pulling his condom off and disposing of it.
"Planning on building a roster for yourself Professor Reid?" You quip adjusting yourself to lean back against the desk instead of still bending over it. Your tone is light but you'll admit you won't take it well if he says yes. Spencer frowns at you as he reaches into his desk for something.
"Is that a serious question?" He asks walking over to you with a packet of wipes in hand.
"Well it was a joke really but if you want to take it seriously be my guest." You shrug. He kneels in front of you, his frown deepening as he considers your words.
"No y/n I'm not 'building a roster'. The only person I'm planning on fucking in here is you, but it shouldn't be your responsibility to provide contraceptive methods for that. Also I've been inside you, I think you can call me Spencer when we're alone." He says gently cleaning you up. You try not to squirm at the intimacy of the whole thing.
"Oh. Okay." You can't think of anything else to say.
"Let me make something clear to you I'm not- I didn't just fuck you to get it out of my system and move on after this y/n. I'd actually like to continue something with you- unless of course, you have no interest in that, I won't pressure you. Although I can't imagine you can go back to Matt after that."
"You really hate him huh?" You laugh.
"He's a fine student. I just don't particularly like the way he drools over you." Spencer shrugs. "But it won't matter if you choose to see me again."
"I will. See you again I mean. This was fun." You say. A knock on the locked office door stops Spencer from speaking.
"Professor Reid?" A voice calls on the other side of the door. A student.
"Just a moment!" Spencer says, he quickly takes a moment to adjust your hair for you and pick up some of the scattered things from his desk while you fix your clothes.
"Spencer where is my underwear?!" You whisper at him.
"Oh I'll be holding onto that." Spencer winks at you, tapping his pocket where your panties are no doubt stuffed. You shoot him a look but grab your backpack and head towards the door.
"Thank you for answering my questions Professor! See you in class next week." You say loudly as you open the door. A boy you don't recognize is on the other side of it. He must be from one of Spencer's other sessions.
"Yes of course. See you next week." His response is almost dismissive, enough that this other student should have no idea what was going on before he showed up and only once you're practically out of the building do you let your giddy smile take over your face as you walk back to your apartment.
***
Part 2
2K notes · View notes
elenadvrx · 2 months
Text
let's be honest.
nanami's tie isn't what we would usually choose to wear with a suit. or with anything at all. that design is just horrendously loud and bold.
but the reason why he willingly wears it everyday to work is of course, because of you. what turned out to be a gag gift becomes something he treasures the most just because it was given by you when your relationship was still buddingly new. it's not often he loves and be loved in return.
"nanamin!" yuuji greeted the sorcerer from afar, seeing him standing around the training field. "what are you doing here? gojo-sensei isn't here today, he had a mission to attend to."
"i'm waiting for someone else." he nonchantly replies, adjusting his tie to loosen it up a little.
"hey, nanamin? i've been wondering why you wear that tie. it's not really that nice-looking." during all those times yuuji went on a mission with nanami, his gaze always zeroed in on his black and yellow printed tie but never got the chance to ask him. curses always did occupied most of his time and attention.
"hmm? oh, you don't need to know that." clearing his throat, he fiddled with his tie a little more before placing his hands in his pants pocket. but if yuuji had looked closely, he would see that his cheeks got a tad bit pinkish. nanami was just too bashful to talk fondly about you to yuuji.
just as yuuji was about to shoot another question, nanami saw you turning around the corner - wide smiles and twinkling eyes, hastily making your way to your husband. "kento!"
it's as if you turned off a switch in him just with your mere presence - tensed shoulders relaxing, his stance a little loose before his eyes soften seeing you greet him so openly with love. a slight smile grazes upon his lips.
"hi, you look beautiful as always, my love." nanami cups your face with his big, warm hands before giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"thanks, darling. you look dashing yourself." you were all smiles and giggles as you look up to him, getting your fill of him as it has days since you've last seen him. he has been away for a solo mission far from home. you've missed him too much.
looking down, you noticed his tie was loose and a little crooked. sighing, you trace the pattern on his tie before straightening it a little.
"i don't get why you're still wearing this tie. it's been years since i've gifted you this as a joke, you didn't really have to wear it. i'm getting you a new one soon."
you've been dating for 6 months when you came across this particular tie while walking through a shopping street and thought it'll be funny to see the reaction of the mostly stoic sorcerer. you never thought he'd accepted it with care and wore it everyday.
"it's fine. it's still not too worn out yet, it'll hang on for awhile more." he caresses your cheek, reminiscing the time when you were so excited to gift it to him, giggling the whole time. sure, it may be a gag gift, but it was still a gift from you. all things given by you were things to be treasured. just like your love that encompasses his whole being.
"nanamin!" the both of you flinched hearing the shout coming from the boy just a short distance from you. has he been here all along?
"you- you and sensei are together? wha-when, ho-what? wait, nevermind that, sensei was the one who bought you that tie?" seeing how flabbergasted yuuji was, you face him and ruffle his hair.
"mhmm! we're married actually. and yeah, i bought the tie to mess with him but i guess he really liked it and wore it ever since." chuckling, you nudge his shoulder with your knuckles. "i didn't know you were here. megumi and nobara was looking for you."
"oh, that's right! we had plans to hang out together before i saw nanamin. see you both!" easily distracted, yuuji dashed towards the main entrance, leaving just you and nanami alone.
familiar arms wrapped around your waist from behind before you felt a kiss on your cheek.
"just so you know, i will always wear this tie even if you buy me a new one. it really helps with my cursed technique." your husband is teasing you.
"uhuh, sure. if blood gets on it, you're cleaning it up yourself." you stay contently in his arms, warm afternoon sun softly beaming down on the both of you.
—————//—————
"if blood gets on it, you're cleaning it up yourself."
your words echoed inside your head as you find yourself kneeling on a pool of blood, your husband- what was left of him, blood-soaked khaki pants adorned on a pair of legs, clutching onto the black and yellow printed tie that was found dangling from his pants pocket. it was speckled with blood.
your vision turns blurry from tears constantly trickling down your cheeks, splashing onto the blood below you.
no… the first thing you would do once this is over is to clean his tie as thoroughly as possible. you will not let this incident taint your precious memory of this gift.
but first, you have to finish whoever did this to him.
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johnnycakesb14de · 2 months
Note
I don't know if this goes past your rules but can you do like (greaser) x reader when someone in the gang catches y'all like making out?
HOW THEY WOULD REACT TO YOU GUYS GETTING CAUGHT MAKING OUT
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DARRY
He would definitely be the more secretive type when it comes to kisses mostly because all of his friends are immature
But I imagine y'all would be in the kitchen alone it's his day off and the boys are out
One thing leads to another and y'all are just being romantic and showing affection by making out
Next thing you know you hear the traditional caught-off-guard-cough-laugh
Darry looks up and sees Dally, Johnny and Ponyboy.
"Y'all enjoying yourselves?"
"Shut the fuck up Dallas."
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SODAPOP
He was on break at the DX and you stopped by to see him and bring him food because you wanted to hang out with your boyfriend
Y'all were in the back just hanging out be cuties
Hes flirting with you
You know giving his typical sodapop charm flashing you his million dollar smile
He kisses you a few times and it leads to a make out and y'all are just in the moment not really thinking about muchv
Then Steve walks in
cunt
"Hey so what ar- HELLO? WHAT THE FUCK?!"
Y'all both turn around and you roll your eyes in embarrassment
"Do that on your own time please."
"Shut up Steve."
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PONYBOY
Say your older in this maybe like 15-16 because for the first while of y'all dating you wouldn't be allowed in his room alone even with the door open Darrys just crazy like that
Y'all were in his room working on some homework or just hanging out when you totally very sneakily shut the door all the way thinking Darry won't find out because he's cooking
And start kissing
Not even two minutes later Darrys nosy ass barges in
"What did I say about the door kidd- Oh excuse me?!?!"
Y'all create distance from each other staring at him wide eyed
"I swear it isn't w-"
"be quiet Ponyboy. I have these rules for a reason, you guys can come into the living room since you can't be trusted."
"Why?"
"Y/N, don't start."
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Johnny
Yall were in the lot because where else would you be
You kissed him a few times and it let to a slight make out nothing crazy
Two-bit came up to tell Johnny that unfortunately Dally had been arrested for some odd reason
And the SECOND he sees you he's instantly teasing y'all
he's trying to tease you but he ends up just making it really uncomfortable
"Lord almighty, what's going on here?! Save room for Jesus, she might get pregnant!" Insert two-bit laugh wheeze
"Cut it out man."
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DALLAS
Y'all were at Bucks for some party and it was getting really loud
You were overstimulated, Dally was tipsy and everyone was getting on his nerves so he took you outfront for some fresh air
Dally was being Dally and talking to you and kissing you a few times and it leads to a make out
Then Steve walks out
(I imagine him and Dally are actually pretty good friends)
He starts laughing
"Uhhhh, Dal'! Y'know where Evie is?"
"Why the fuck would I know where your girlfriend is?"
"I dunno, just wonderin'."
He rolled his eyes and dramatically sighed
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Steve
You were at work with him trying to help him
Which actually just meant he was yelling at you for certain tools
You were getting bored he was getting frustrated because he couldn't figure out what was wrong with the car so you told him to to take a small break
So he took a break and you both just started talking and he kisses you
After he pulled away you kissed him back
Darry walks in looking for Soda
"Oh, my bad. I was just looking for Soda"
"In the back Darry."
He leaves and you laugh
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Two-bit
Y'all were at the drive-in just hanging out
He was bothering people yk just being two-bit
And somehow you both ended up at the drag race that Steve, Soda and Dallas were at
You were leaned up against the hood of his car and he was in front of you and you were making out
Soda comes up and laughs at y'all
"HAHAHA, Steve come look!'
Two-bit looks at him and also starts laughing because hes two-bit
And your just there like 'omfg'
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bonny-kookoo · 7 months
Text
Jungkook
TERRITORIAL. | Pretty Baby
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Who would've known that the big bad wolf isn't actually all that bad?
Tags/Warnings: Punk!Jungkook, Wolf!Jungkook, Good girl!Reader, Dom!Jungkook, Sub!Reader, Corruption kink, strangers to crushes to lovers, Fluff, Adult themes
Length: uuuh long idk
There is no taglist for this fic.
-> Masterlist
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Strawberry milk is your favorite.
It's always been a comfort thing for you- just like certain snacks or fabrics make you feel comforted, strawberry milk gives you that little bit of extra braveness at night after work has ended to finally make your way back home into the safety of your apartment.
But tonight, it's a bit different. Tonight, there's a group of vamps outside, clearly trying to agitate the wolves who've been ruling the streets for a while now.
It's not actual gang-behavior. They're not actively fighting or anything, there's never any guns or other violence involved- at least not on the surface. Underground, you're sure this must be a different story- but on the streets, the wolves play the tune everyone else dances to- the vamps only occasionally trying to provoke something, which never actually happens.
But that doesn't mean it won't tonight. Maybe tonight's the night it'll escalate.
And on nights like this, you sometimes feel like moving into the big city was a big mistake too, because this seems so normal to everyone else around you.
Back home in your little town, there wasn't anything like this at night. People would go to bed at reasonable times, you'd know every neighbor by name and house number, and you never had to fear going home alone. But here, things are different. Here, things are a lot more dangerous, especially as nothing but a human with no connection to either group.
You kind of want to stay neutral- even if, deep down, you feel more drawn towards the wolves with their more laid back approach to life.
Outside the small convenience store, you throw away the empty bottle of strawberry milk, before you reluctantly make a few steps- looks from a few vampires immediately making you retreat however, pulling out your phone to appear occupied. You can hear them snickering amongst each other already, laughing and talking, making comments about you.
You can't do this, fuck that.
You look around a little, when you notice someone from the nearby wolves looking back at you- a young man, golden eyes a tell-tale sign of what he is, as he sits on his bike that's perched up on it's kickstand. He's watching you, but not in an intimidating way- he's more so calculating it seems like, scanning the situation before he looks towards a friend nearby, who nods, some others nodding as well as they move closer.
He's got his hands in the pockets of his jacket, beanie hiding the slightly faded blue-ish strands of hair. Everyone of the tiny group appears relaxed and non-threatening. But there's a certain confidence in them that intimidates you a little as they walk closer.
That is, until he smiles at you-
and his black tail behind him wags, swaying from side to side.
"Alright guys, can we make some space here for the lady to pass through?" He asks towards the group of Vamps, who laugh, before they reluctantly make space for you to walk. The young man carefully moves to walk a little behind you, the other's shielding you just as much on the side that's turned towards the blood-dependent human variants. It just confirms to you that yeah, you're definitely more drawn towards wolves.
"There we go. Is your home far?" The young wolf asks, still keeping a respectful distance towards you.
"Uh.. no, not really." You deny, and he nods. "Thanks, by the way." You bow to him and his friends politely, everyone just waving it off- though you can see all their tails swaying a little. It's honestly.. cute, if they didn't all look like they could probably break your neck at a moment's notice.
But they don't. Instead, they all agree to your request to walk home now by yourself, and let you go-
though you can feel one person's eyes on you for a little longer, and when you turn around, he smiles that smile again.
A smile that's just.. genuine.
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You meet him again the day after at the convenience store, though he's sporting a fresh scratch on the top of his cheekbone. He doesn't seem to be in too much pain as he spots you however, having just bought your typical strawberry courage to go home tonight. "Do you always work this long?" He wonders, and you nod, sitting down next to him at the narrow table at the windows of the small store. He's been eating something, bowl now empty though, faint redness on his lips the last remnant of his meal.
"What happened?" You ask, pointing to your own cheek, when he seems surprised, touching his own before hissing at the sting. "No don't touch it-" You whine, before you look for something in your bag, opening another, smaller, makeup bag. "here- or... do you want me to help?" You wonder, making him nod and lean forward with a faint smile on his lips, hands holding onto the chair he's sitting on between his legs as he closes his eyes so you don't feel watched.
As you clean up the scratch and put a bandaid on, you kind of have to think about the fact that he seems awfully.. less threatening than you thought he'd be, considering he's a wolf from the big city. But maybe the one's you know from the smaller towns are just.. a little too full of themselves, pride getting the best of them.
"Oh-" You suddenly say, noticing the little cartoon fish on the bandaid you just placed on his cheek.
"What, 'oh'?" He wonders back, and you hold out another bandaid to him so he can take a look.
"I'm sorry, I didn't- I forgot I only have those…" You mumble a bit caught off guard by your own actions. But he just laughs, giving it back to you with a smile and shake of his head.
"It's fine- they're cute!" He simply shrugs, not bothered by it at all. "Thanks." He offers, tail swaying behind him. "So- can I ask what you work as?" He wonders, and you nod, putting your stuff back into your bag.
"Just data management. It's pretty boring." You shrug to yourself. "But I can work by myself and I like that." You explain, zipping your bag shut before you look at him again. "Although.. I might have to get myself maybe a dog, when I go home at night. A big, scary looking one you know? But they've got to be nice so I can bring them into the office with me.." You mumble, drinking the last of your milk as he turns his body to face more openly to you again, a playful smirk on his lips.
"How about I'll be your big bad dog then, huh?" He flirts, tail swinging side to side behind him. "Though I'm probably not allowed in the office.." He laughs, especially when you roll your eyes and still smile at his joking attempt at flirting. It was a joke.. right?
"Ha-ha." You say because of that, though he just widens his eyes, feigning innocence.
"Hey I'm serious!" He offers, leaning a bit closer. "I could take you home every night- and if I can't, someone of my pack could do the job instead."
"I- I'm probably not even gonna stay in the city for too long." You sigh, playing with the fluffy pom-pom ball attached to your bag. "I don't like it here very much.. it's too.. I don't know. I don't belong here.." You mumble.
"Maybe you've simply not seen the good parts of the city." He shrugs. "I could show you some."
"And by some you mean your bedroom?" You sigh, looking at him with a bit of an attitude- and he can't help but be intrigued by that little hint of spice you seem to have, underneath your pretty visuals and rather introverted appearance.
"If you'd like to visit, the door's always open for a pretty girl like you." he purrs, and at that, you clearly turn shy. "..And I don't ever open that door for anyone but myself, typically." He adds on, and at that, you look back at him, searching for the deeper meaning of that statement-
and you seem to find it, in the warmth of his eyes and the slight redness to his ears.
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"Have you ever been a backpack before?" Jungkook asks, as he waits outside of your apartment, one helmet on his bike and the other in his hand.
"Uh.. no-" you say, honestly never having heard the phrase.
"Would you like to try?" He asks, motioning towards his bike, holding out the helmet. "Got this one from a packmate. Should fit you." He says, black and grey tail wagging as you take it somewhat reluctantly. "And I'll drive extra careful too." He says, helping you put on the helmet properly before his hands adjust the strap under your chin.
"What if I fall off?" You worry, but he just laughs, putting on his own helmet. You notice that his hair seems freshly dyed- nor black.
"Not if you hold on to me." He explains, sitting on the bike after putting up the kickstand. "Hop on- I'll keep it stable." He reassures you, as you somewhat awkwardly climb onto the back of his bike. Only when his hands pull yours around his middle do you notice he's only really keeping you both and the bike stable with his feet alone.
And it makes you wonder how strong he might be.
"There we go. You'll figure things out as we go, trust me." He chuckles, small speakers in his head connected to his own too so you can talk properly. "Good to go?" Be asks, and you nod-
That is until his bike roars to life, and you instinctively cling onto him for dear life as he turns to drive off onto the main road.
He laughs. You're not sure what's so funny.
"Oh look at Jungkookies new passenger princess!" Someone jokes suddenly over the speaker, and you look around just to find three people on bikes as well at the same red light.
"Nervous?" Another voice asks, and Jungkook growls a little in front of you.
"You're making her nervous, hyung!" He complains, making the stranger's laugh. "Don't worry, they just want to mess with me.." he mumbles towards you, hand squeezing yours for a little in comfort.
"Yeah of course, after all Jungkook's finally all grown up!" The first voice laughs. "Finally up for an actual relationship now, fuckboy?" He asks, and at that, you grow a bit nervous.
Fuckboy? Relationship?
Just who is Jungkook really? You've got no idea. Sure, you've texted over the past few days, but you basically know nothing about him. He could just try and get into your pants, maybe that's his whole thing- maybe he likes them innocent and stupid to have a quick fuck and then drop them again. With looks like his that must be easy.
You're easy.
"Please don't listen to them, they're just assholes-" He tries to explain as the light finally turns green, but you're quiet, and Jungkook has a feeling that something's wrong. "You okay?" He asks occasionally, but you just nod and move on, not really up for talking anymore. He just wants to screw you anyways. Maybe he really is just a big city wolf down the line.
The scenery is nice, but you don't really feel like enjoying it too much as you just want to go home right away again. It's something you do- you hide from things, because confrontation just ends in you being at fault all the time. And maybe, this time, you are at fault.
You shouldn't just trust someone like that. You both barely know each other.
He parks at a gas station, turning off his bike in a more secluded parking area, before he takes off his helmet, and helps you take off yours too.
"What's wrong?" He asks, hair a bit wild, but eyes serious as they look at you, reflecting the light from the neon signs a little like mirrors.
"Nothing." You shrug, avoiding eye contact.
"He was just messing with me. They're always like that-" he tries to explain, and as you sigh, he knows that that's exactly what must've set you off. "Listen, I won't stand here and tell you I'm a church-going virgin because I'm not. Yeah, I fucked around, because sex is fun to me." He shrugs, and you're caught off guard at how boldly he says that. "But that doesn't mean I can't take things seriously." He offers, finally catching your gaze again. "And I want to take.. you seriously." He offers you, but you're not sure.
"...why?" You wonder. "Cause I'm pretty and innocent?" You jab at him. "Cause I'm the small town girl you can corrupt and then drop after you finally got into my pants?" You accuse. "Sucks to be you, I'm not a virgin anymore. I've had sex already, and for me it's not fun." You deny, crossing your arms almost defensively, though you quickly move your hands back on the bike as it moves slightly the moment he sits on it again, facing you however.
"I don't care about that." He tells you. "I won't lie that the corruption part isn't something appealing to me-" he chuckles, as he tests the waters, hands on your thighs not moving, just resting on the tops of them. "-But I'm not dropping you, if you ever let me have you." He purrs.
"What if I'm not ever letting you have me?" You respond, trying to act tough so he won't think you're easy.
"Then that's your choice." He nods.
"So if I say no right now, you'll leave me alone?" You ask.
"Depends on what you say no to." He shrugs leaning back a little, your legs feeling cold without his hands on them. "No to sex? Alright, we won't fuck then." He explains. "No to being with me? Cool, we'll just stay friends then." He goes on.
"No to me entirely?" He offers, eyes unreadable. "I'll accept that, and back off."
"That easy?" You ask a little caught off guard, and he nods. "So you're.. huh." You mumble to yourself, defeated. So he's not even up to put any effort in you. That's slightly disappointing, and honestly makes you feel a little ashamed even.
"So what is it?" He asks, and you shrug.
"I don't know." You answer honestly.
"Then how about I'll work for it?" He smirks, and you look at him now. "Let me take you out. Let's go on dates, I can take you to pack meet-up's so you can get to know those assholes better, hell, I'll even have you meet my mom if you want!" He excitedly proposes to you, tail wagging, hitting his bike occasionally. "Just- you seem really cool. Exactly what I've been searching for." He explains a bit softer now. "Let's try.. okay?" He asks.
"... okay." You answer, and at that his lips turn, part in a happy grin, before he gets up from the bike and punches the air once in his excitement before he returns.
"Okay!" He giggles to himself, helping you back into your helmet. "I know an awesome place to get some food-" he instantly rambles, kicking up the stand for his bike again before he drives off with you-
Eager to show you that he's the one for you.
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