#(me: we can do this next inbox simply)
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All my writing juice comes out of me when I'm slightly sleepy I guess.
#ooc [so speakth the queen of queens]#(me: we can do this next inbox simply)#(my brain: but we ain't gonna are we ya fckn bitch-)
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home run | s.r.
in which Spencer and jareau!reader finally get the opportunity to take the next step in their relationship
margotober masterlist
who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: sex bro idk. the sweatshirt. smut with a lot of plot, glasses!spencer, dostoyevsky, paulo coelho, ur crazy if you think i proofread this, flirrrrrrting, protected p in v sex, fingering, heavy petting, post coital dysphoria (why can't i let them simply have a nice time) word count: 4.01k a/n: next on my quest to give fanfic readers realistic sex to read, i give you this! as always, tell me how u feel, my inbox is always open.
“Will you unzip me?” You asked softly, pulling your hair out of the way and turning your back to Spencer, who paused his own disrobing to undo the zipper of your dress.
It’d been a long day, the light hours spent in the BAU, and the evening spent at Rossi’s, who wanted to get at least one more cookout in before the weather turned. You’d finally reached the end of your day, and for the first time, you were spending it with Spencer.
Facing away from him still, you let the fabric drop to the floor, taking your sweatshirt from your go bag and tugging it over your head. Spencer hummed from behind you, “I can’t believe you still wear that.”
A small smile formed on your face as you turned around. “It’s comfortable,” you justified, the old FBI Academy sweatshirt had previously lived in Spencer’s apartment, but you’d claimed it for yourself nearly two years ago. It had the perfect amount of wear, making it one of your favorites—among other reasons.
You tried not to let your eyes linger while Spencer changed, instead focusing on details in his room that you’d never seen before and making note of what books he kept on his nightstand. “It’s old,” Spencer responds plainly, putting on an old MIT t-shirt and reaching out for you, grabbing your waist and pulling you close.
Before being with Spencer, you wouldn’t have considered yourself the kind of person to take things slowly, but with him, that was the only option you were willing to consider. You were so scared of things being ruined with him that you only made moves when you knew you were absolutely ready. Maybe that was why it took you nearly two years before the two of you started dating, but he was willing to walk the tightrope with you.
You walked around the bed, sitting up on the mattress and watching him go into the bathroom, “So, what do you want to do tonight?” He asked from the bathroom, coming back out with his glasses on and leaning against the doorframe.
Humming, you look over at him, “Didn’t think that far ahead?” A teasing lilt carried through your question, cocking your head as he made his way over to you. He’d asked you on Monday if you’d like to spend Friday night at his place, and he had seemed surprised when you accepted his offer.
“I have a few ideas, but I wanted to see if there was something specific you had in mind. Since you’ve already interrupted your usual schedule to stay here, I wanted to give you a choice,” he rambled. He always rambled when he was nervous.
You raised your eyebrows curiously, “Spence?”
With him standing in front of you, you studied his eyes. His contacts had a blue tint to them, so seeing him in his glasses was really your only opportunity to see his eyes as they truly appeared. “Yeah, baby?”
Your heart fluttered at the nickname, “We don’t have to do anything special. What would you be doing if I weren’t here?”
“Reading,” he told you unabashedly.
Honestly, you should’ve guessed that. “Okay, then we can read. Do you have a book I can borrow?”
Spencer nodded, “You’re welcome to anything, but are you sure? We could find a movie to watch instead.”
“We don’t have to do anything special just because it’s our first night together, and besides, reading side by side sounds nice,” you told him, waving off his concerns about entertainment and walking into the living room, scanning over his extensive collection. Plucking one off the shelves, you return to Spencer, watching him pull the covers down on the bed, preparing both yours and his side.
You set your book on the nightstand and climbed up on the mattress, his box spring causing it to be almost precariously high. “The Alchemist?” He questioned, reading the title of the book that you had selected.
Tracing the title with your fingertip, you shrugged, “I’ve never read it. Should I pick a different book?”
He shook his head in response, “No, and I don’t want to influence your opinion with mine.”
“Well, what are you reading?” You peered over to look at the book in his hands, reading the cover, “How many times have you read that book?” Since you started dating four months ago, he’d read Crime and Punishment at least three times.
Flipping the book back open, Spencer went back to the pages, “I’ve never read this version before, the editor decided to publish his thoughts along with the translated text.”
You raised your eyebrows curiously, “And what are your thoughts on that?”
“I think his translation of the original Russian is perfectly adequate, but his comments read like a high schooler who was forced to read the book for a class,” he explained, his hand absentmindedly resting on your bare thigh once you settled into the bed.
Humming, you opened your book, reading the foreword and trying to ignore Spencer’s hand placement. There was no reason to lose your mind over a little thigh touching.
Once you made it to the beginning of the actual story, you became vaguely aware of Spencer’s thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your thigh, leading to you closing the book and setting it back on the bookshelf. Taking a deep breath, you rolled onto your side, leaving Spencer to move his hand from your skin, and you rested your head on his shoulder.
You looked up at him, watching his lips move as he read the words on the page, you felt very lucky to have this part of Spencer. The Spencer who let his glasses slide to the very bottom of his nose and had an affinity for reruns of cartoons from the eighties. “Are you alright?” He whispered once he finished his chapter, reaching an arm up to ruffle your hair affectionately.
“Mhm,” you murmured, “Don’t feel like reading.”
Gently, Spencer craned his head to drop a featherlight kiss to the tip of your nose, eliciting a small smile from you. “Let me know if you need anything,” he said softly.
As odd as it seemed, you liked watching him read, at the very least, it was impressive to watch. You kept your eyes on him, watching how intently he focused on the book despite having read it several times before.
He looked back down at you, catching you staring, “Can I kiss you?”
The question took you by surprise, but you nodded in response, looking at him as he ducked his head down and pecked your lips. He pushed his glasses up on his nose, putting his free hand in front of his mouth as he went back to reading.
In his defense, his resolve lasted for one more chapter, turning the page before snapping the book shut and resting it on his nightstand. Spencer turned his head to yours again, “Hey.”
“Hi,” you responded, unsure about where he was headed with this. Opening your mouth to ask him a question only to be met with his lips on yours, he took his time now, resting a hand on the side of your neck, the pad of his thumb at the hinge of your jaw as he held you close.
Tentatively, he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip, and that single motion drew a small moan from the back of your throat, causing you to pull away from Spencer.
Your eyes were wide in surprise, “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.”
Spencer shook his head, pulling at your waist, “C’mere,” he said, encouraging you to straddle him, your knees on either side of his hips, “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” you breathed, leaning forward and resting your hands on his chest, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “This is okay,” you whispered against his lips.
It wasn’t like the two of you hadn’t made out before, it was usually just on the couch, or in Spencer’s reading chair, or one time when you were the only two on the jet. This—making out in his bed—it felt different somehow.
Coming back up for air, you looked up at Spencer, a giggle escaping your throat as you tried to meet his eyes. “Oops,” you said, his glasses had fogged up while you were kissing, so you leaned back while he took them off, resting them on his nightstand.
Spencer rested his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently massaging over your hip bones as you studied his expression, “Honey,” he said, suddenly serious, “I want you to know that I didn’t invite you to spend the night with this in mine.”
He was drawing the same conclusions as you, but still, you looked at him doubtfully, “Do you mean to tell me that the prospect of sex didn’t even cross your mind when it came to inviting me to spend the night?”
A soft pink bloomed across his cheeks, you found yourself wanting to kiss them, “Okay, maybe it occurred to me that we might find ourselves in this position.”
You straightened up slightly, “So, I trust you have a condom.”
Nodding, Spencer reached a hand up and smoothed your hair back with the kind of tenderness that made you want to cry. “I do, but we don’t have to have sex tonight, okay?”
“But I want to,” you responded, maybe a tad too quickly. Your face warms, “I mean… I’d like to. If you want to.” With an air of finality, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his, one of your hands found a home in his hair while the other rested on his collarbone.
As if on cue, the phone started to ring. An incessant blare designed to wake you up in case you were being called in in the middle of the night. Spencer chuckled as you dramatically dragged yourself off of his lap and dug through your bag for your phone.
If it were Penelope or Hotch, you’d answer without a second thought, but the caller ID showed your sister on the other line. You declined the call, texting her an excuse before leaving your phone on the nightstand.
Spencer dragged his fingertips down your arm, “Who was it?”
“JJ,” you told him leaning back over his torso and pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I’ll call her back later,” you continued, kissing the other corner of his mouth.
He hummed in response, settling his hands on your waist, “Tomorrow?” He proposed, gently guiding your back to the bed.
Nodding, you looked up at him, “Tomorrow,” you confirmed, sighing contently as your legs fell open, giving him the room he needed to rest his body between them. You’d never felt so at ease in bed with someone, no one had ever touched you so carefully before.
“Good,” he whispered against your lips, gently parting them with his own as you looped your arms over his shoulders, “Hold on,” he said, pulling back and climbing off of the bed.
Your eyes followed him intently as he stopped in front of his go bag, unzipping the side pouch and pulling out a familiar-looking box. “You’ve been keeping condoms in your go bag?” Your question is succeeded by a fit of giggles, any nervousness disappearing at the realization that Spencer’s been carrying contraception with him all day.
Rolling his eyes, Spencer lobbed the box at you, but you were still laughing too hard to be bothered by the lightweight box hitting your arm. “Excuse me for wanting to be prepared,” he teased back, climbing up on the bed and finding a spot right next to you.
“No, you’re right,” you said, continuing to giggle despite your best attempts to stop. “Okay, I’m sorry, let me put on my serious face,” you pressed your lips together in a thin line, holding them together with your teeth as you tried to stop any giggles from escaping. “You would make a great boy scout,” you told him, failing to keep a straight face.
Sighing, Spencer kissed your smiling lips, giving you a soft peck between every word he said.
“You’re.”
Kiss.
“So.”
Kiss.
“Cute.”
By the final kiss, you’re ready to ascend into the heavens. Knowing you can die happy because you’ve known what it’s like to love him. You’re not even worried about the fact that he chose to call you cute as opposed to hot or sexy. Spencer’s never let you consider the idea of being someone other than who you are.
“I love you,” you whispered, looking at him as he positioned himself between your legs again, taking your lower lip between your teeth because this time you could feel his length. Even through three layers of fabric, his hardness pressed against your core in a way that made your head spin.
Spencer hummed, “I love you too.” His tone was careful as his hands slipped up your sweatshirt, a totem to show where the two of you started and where you are now. His fingers wandered over your skin, an exploration of your body as the hem of the sweatshirt started riding up your waist, “your heart is racing.”
You sat up, trying to encourage him to take your sweater off, “You have that effect on me.” You took a deep breath as he followed your cue and pulled your sweatshirt over your head, once he tossed it to the hamper, you pushed at his t-shirt, whipping it off his body without a care in the world.
He was just looking at you, just studying you in the way someone would look at a piece of art. Feeling encouraged, you reached back to unclasp your bra, letting the fabric fall off of your chest before dropping it just off the side of the bed. “Pretty,” he breathed, leaning forward to kiss you again, his lips making their way along your jawline, along the column of your throat, and just below your collarbones. “Pretty, pretty girl,” he murmured, rendered uncharacteristically at a loss for words at the sight of you topless.
You gasped as his lips attached themselves to your chest, sucking at the soft skin and leaving little love bites behind. He moved his hand to gain better balance, leaving one at the side of your head, “Ow, Spence,” you yelped.
Spencer’s head snapped up, “Are you okay?” He asked, more fear in his voice than was strictly necessary for the issue.
“Your hand is on my hair,” you said, moving your hair behind your head when he instantly moved his hand.
He dropped a kiss to your forehead, oddly domestic for the state of undress you were in, “I’m sorry, honey.”
You shook your head, “It’s okay, c’mere,” you whispered, placing your hand on the back of his head and guiding his lips to yours. Slowly, you extend your free arm between your bodies, slipping your hand between the elastic of his briefs and his stomach, wrapping your hand around his shaft.
He moaned into your mouth at the contact, his lips faltering against yours as you ran your thumb over the tip, gathered his precum on your finger, and withdrew your hand, bringing your hand up to your separated mouths and sucking the liquid off of your thumb. “You’re going to be the death of me,” he groaned, reattaching his lips to your neck, bringing his lips further down your chest until he took your nipple in his mouth, nipping at it gently with his teeth while his fingers wandered up to play with your other breast, massaging the flesh.
“Oh,” you breathed, looking up at the ceiling fan and trying to stop your hips from bucking up as his mouth separated from your breast with a wet pop, his hand skimming down your torso and stopping just above the hem of your underwear, looking to you for permission before he exposed your core.
Slowly, he hooked his fingers in the sides of your panties and dragged them down your legs, leaving them on the mattress for you to find easily as he pushed your knees apart. His hand made its way to your pussy, fingers dragging lazily up and down your slit, “Is this okay?”
Nodding, “Yeah,” you answered, bracing yourself for the intrusion of his fingers, but you were surprised when it didn’t come yet. Instead, his index finger pressed gently against your clit, softly rubbing at the bundle of nerves, trying to prepare you. A soft whine escaped your lips at the sight, “Will you kiss me?” You asked, your eyes wide and pleading with him.
Obliging your wishes, he left his hand in its place while he pressed his lips against yours, you slid your tongue into his mouth, running the tip of it along his bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he played with your clit, need growing in your core as his fingers moved.
“Ah,” you gasped against his mouth when he slipped a finger into your hole, separating your lips while you tipped your head back against the pillows. “Oh, wow,” you breathed at the feeling of him knuckle-deep in you, his finger remaining still while you adjusted to the intrusion.
Spencer hummed, bringing his head back down and resting it on your tummy while he curled his fingers in your cunt. You brought your hands down to rest on his head, tugging at his hair while he started to thrust his finger in and out of you, wet squelching sounds emanating from your core as he did.
A moan was ripped from your throat when he added another finger to the mix, stretching your pussy even further while you felt your walls contract around his hand. “Spence,” you breathed, moaning again at the sensations that were coursing through your body, “Spence, baby.”
He tore his eyes away, looking up at you while his hand slowed slightly—just in case, “What do you need, honey?”
Honey. The sweet pet name plucked at your heartstrings as you propped yourself up on your elbows, “I’m— Can we...?” You started, not sure how to proposition him. Can we have sex? Seemed like too little too late. Will you make love to me? Made you want to throw up in your mouth a little bit. “Will you fuck me?” Was what you settled on, albeit a bit crude, but it was your best option at the time.
He withdrew his fingers from your cunt, eliciting a whimper from you at the emptiness, he reached over for the box of condoms that he had previously thrown at you, handing the box to you so he could shed his boxer briefs.
Staring at the way his cock stood at attention, you considered wrapping your mouth around him, just for a moment, but Spencer didn’t seem interested in anything other than doing what you’d asked of him. Instead, you reached out your hand and wrapped your fingers around the base. He was already plenty hard, but you felt the need to reciprocate pleasure, which is why you were surprised when he moved your hand before you could even start.
“It’s okay,” he reassured you, and you nodded a response, telling yourself you’d remember to return the favor in the future. Maybe in the morning.
Handing him a lavender packet, you watched as he carefully tore the package open, pinching the tip and rolling the condom over himself. “Is this good?” You asked, lying on your back as you watched him settle back between your legs, your breath hitched as his cock lined up with your entrance.
Spencer nodded, “You’re perfect. I’ll go slow, okay?” He rubbed at your thigh comfortingly, waiting for you to give him another okay before he started pushing into you. Between your wetness and the added lubrication of the condom, he slid in with little resistance, but he took it slowly, just like he had promised.
He watched you the whole time with the knowledge that you hadn’t had sex in years, the last thing he’d want to do was cause you any pain.
Once he was fully sheathed in you, you buried your face in his neck, pressing little kisses to his soft skin as you focused on anything other than the pressure in your core.
“I’m okay,” you whispered, he didn’t even have to ask you for the reassurance. “I’m— fuck,” you cried out, unable to help the way your walls tightened around his cock. “You can move,” you told him, your voice muffled against his neck.
He inhaled sharply as he pulled his hips from yours before slowly pressing them back together, “I love you.”
You nodded, “I love you too,” you murmured, muffling your moans in his neck as a courtesy to his neighbors, unable to control them as his tentative thrusts turned into a steady rhythm. Carefully thrusting into you while he moved one of his hands up, intertwining your fingers with his at the side of your head—minding his hand placement.
Hooking your ankles together behind his back, you squeezed his hand at the same time as your cunt clenched around his length. He continued fucking into you, pushing your legs open even further until he hit a spot inside of you that made you see stars.
“Spence,” you cried out, trying to warn him about your impending orgasm before it washed over you. Your walls uncontrollably clenched around him as you fully muffled yourself against him, soft squeaks escaping your mouth as he kept going, the pulsating of your pussy driving him even closer to his own orgasm.
His hips stuttered in their movements as you pulled your face from his neck, breathing the cool air as Spencer spilled his cum into the condom. His head drooped, pressing soft kisses to your collarbone as the both of you caught your breath. “I’m gonna pull out,” he warned you, carefully slipping his softened cock from your hole.
A slight panic came over you as you felt tears well up in your eyes faster than you could process them, hiccupping for air as they fell down into your hairline.
That got Spencer’s attention, lifting himself and looking at you, “Hey,” his voice was so soft, “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
Bordering on babbling, you shook your head, “No, I’m fine,” you cried, more tears falling from your face. “I don’t even know why ‘m crying,” you told him, resting a hand on your chest.
“Shh, hey,” Spencer cooed, “You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Gingerly, he laid down on his back and pulled you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest as he smoothed your hair back comfortingly. “There are just a lot of emotions going through you right now, and that’s okay,” he whispered. “You’re safe with me.”
You nodded slowly, “I’m sorry,” you whimpered, having ruined a perfect first time by bursting into tears immediately after.
Spencer pressed a tentative kiss to your hairline, “It’s okay, there’s no need to be sorry. It’s completely normal,” he murmured, one hand in your hair and the other rubbing circles on your back. “You’re alright. Hey, it’s called post-coital dysphoria, and it happens to about forty-six percent of people,” he told you.
Despite yourself, you gave a breathy laugh, “I feel like you’re making that up so I’ll feel better.” You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with your fingers.
“It’s a real thing, I promise,” he reassured you, continuing to comfort you until tears stopped falling. “Hey, what do you say we get cleaned up and we can watch something in bed.”
You hummed in response, “You don’t like screens in your room, you say it messes with your REM sleep.”
“It does mess with your REM sleep, but I’d be willing to make an exception for you tonight,” he said, smiling softly when you lifted your head from his chest. “Come on, honey. I’ve got you.”
#kinktober 2024#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#criminal minds smut#spencer reid fanfiction#dr spencer reid#spencer reid oneshot#kinktober#spencer reid imagine#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds oneshot#written by margot#mdni#margot after hours#margotober#home run
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YOUR NECKLACE - LN
no warnings just fluff + some SMAU <3 (one mention of sick, no specific detail)
-> lemme know ur thoughts! my inbox is open!! <3
masterlist the playlist
after successfully keeping their relationship secret for 9 months, lando truly believed it was time for him to properly introduce his girlfriend to the world of motorsport. she’d attended races before but always under general admission, usually alone, but sometimes accompanied by the likes of max and p. and it wasn’t as if the fans didn’t know who she was, they just knew her as ‘y/n who works with quadrant’, ‘y/n that reset the cones in the driving video’, ‘y/n that keeps her social media private’ - never once being considered lando’s girlfriend, which worked well for the two.
the panic had set in that morning as she dressed for the day, her hands constantly running over her outfit, checking the way she looked in the mirror from every angle - she wanted to believe that no one would care, or even notice that she was there, but deep down she knew that making the jump from general admission to paddock would gain some chatter on twitter.
“you look perfect,” lando had whispered in her ear from behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist as he tugged her away from the mirror.
“maybe they’ll just think im helping with a quadrant project,” she said absentmindedly, more trying to convince herself than actually respond to him.
“maybe,” he nodded along with her, mulling over his next words, “we can walk in separately if you want? they might not assume anything if they don’t see us together?”
“it’s not that i dont want us to be seen together,” she told him as she moved to the floor, tying her shoelaces up, “i just hate to think what’ll be said about me if they do.”
“i know, angel,” he reassured her, offering out a hand to pull her up, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead when she returned to his level.
the journey to the track was a quiet one, the two of them engaging in light conversation, eventually deciding they’d just walk in together, keep PDA to the minimum and ‘run and hide at the first sign of trouble’ y/n had joked.
lando paced up and down his drivers room, the sleeves of his racing overalls swinging with every step, from where they sat around his hips. he was getting into the right mindset, music playing, and yet his mind raced with every fear of the looming race.
“sit in the garage,” he asked her, halting his pacing to turn and face her.
“what?” she replied, half unsure she’d misheard him.
“watch from the garage - please,” he repeated moving to take steps towards her, noticing the way her fingers twisted at the rings that adorned them.
“are you sure?” she checked, as he grabbed her wrists to stop her anxious fiddling.
“never been more sure in my life,” he told her, using her arms to pull himself closer, joining the two of them in a sweet kiss.
“ok, ill be there,” y/n responded against him, parting only for a moment before connecting their lips again. the kiss was short and sweet, cut off by oscar knocking telling him it was time to go.
she stood in the garage, smiling at a few engineers she recognised before finding herself a seat. the nerves were washing over her again, but now they were for lando. y/n always worried during races, scared on his crashing, worried he wouldn’t perform as well as everyone knew he could. her hand reached up to her chest, instinctively searching for her necklace - lando had bought it for her before they were even together, knowing from the moment she smiled at it and looked up to thank him that this was it for him, she was his future. but the necklace wasn’t there, the girl panicked slightly, fearing she had lost it or it had fallen off before concluding that in her distraction this morning she had simply forgotten to put it on.
that’s ok, you’re a grown woman who can control her nerves. you don’t need a necklace to calm yourself down - you’re not even the one racing she told herself, letting out a deep sigh as she tried to believe herself. no one else in the garage seemed to notice her, a fact she was fairly happy about, hoping that the same would be said for the hundreds of news and tv stations priming their cameras for the race.
but someone had noticed her, recognising the look on her face as the same one she had been wearing all morning. only lando could decipher what her expression meant - she was nervous, of course, scared for him, but also filled with a small buzz of excitement - he couldn’t quite understand how one person could feel so much all at the same time, and not combust on the spot. nevertheless he jogged over to her.
“lando? aren’t you supposed to be like, getting your helmet on?” she asked him, shocked slightly at his sudden appearance. he looked at her, his hand tugging at the top of his fireproofs and pulling his own necklace from where it was trapped behind the fabric.
“forgot to take this off,” he told her, hands moving behind his neck to unclasp the metal, “will you look after it for me?”
she nodded up at him, her outstretched hands halted as he stood close, hands moving the metal around her own neck and clasping it. the metal dropped against her skin, the warmth from him wearing it transferring to her.
“thanks, love you,” he told her, a rushed kiss planted on her lips before he jogged away from her again.
his face carried a smirk as he left her, knowing he hadn’t truly forgotten to take the piece of jewellery off. in actual fact, he’d noticed her missing necklace the moment they’d arrived at the track and made it his mission to have his own hung around her neck, almost as a badge of honour. the two had agreed to keep their relationship private from the public, somewhat of a secret - but now she sat in his garage, wearing his necklace. it was the bare minimum display of the love they shared, but it was enough for him, and it was enough for her.
oscar quirked his eyebrow at his teammates smirk, receiving a quick tell you later before the two pulled their balaclavas down.
the gesture was so simply and so subtle and the girl was oblivious to the moment being caught on camera. the moment a yellow flag was called, the sky tv cameras filled the wait time by zooming in on the faces of loved ones sitting in each drivers garage. however, y/n remained oblivious to the lens focusing closely on her, the camera closely capturing the way she fiddled at the necklace before dropping it as normal lap conditions resumed.
"good day then?" y/n asked him softly, her head resting on his bare chest as she listened to his heart beat - lando felt the way her cool fingers fiddled with the necklace around his neck. that godforsaken necklace, quite frankly the only necklace to ever cause so much uproar online.
"soft launched on live tv and p3? i wouldn't have it any other way," lando replied softly, chucking lightly as his hand brushed through her hair.
“that checks out, mr nowins,” she teased, tilting her head to grin at him.
"being with you is a win in itself," he replied, taking the nickname in his stride.
"gross," the girl responded, pretending to vomit at his attempt at being cute.
“i am sorry though - i should’ve known that would happen, i should’ve checked with you before hanging the “lando’s girlfriend” sign around your neck,” he replied with a sigh, his head dropping to press a kiss to her forehead, his cheek resting on her head as they spoke.
“it’s ok lan, i knew there was a possibility of something like this happening,” she replied.
“and it was fairly subtle - we could probably play it off for a little longer,” lando suggested, knowing that neither of them were quite ready to expose the extent of their relationship just yet. at least this had given them the opportunity to be a little more careless with their efforts to hide from the public. they were private, not secret, and lando couldn’t be happier to preserve this part of his personal life for a little longer.
“im just glad we no longer have the responsibility of a big announcement,” she laughed, “god knows we’re both too lazy for that.”
“who’s we?” he grumbled jokingly, “im the one with the public account. besides, im more than hard launched on your page.”
“ah the joys of an ordinary life,” y/n joked, her arms stretching out in feigned bliss, “however i feel like i should steer clear of twitter for a while.”
“that’s probably for the best,” he agreed, his tone saddening slightly at the memory of things he’d seen posted about not only his ex girlfriend, but some of the claims people had already began making about the girl lying below him.
“hey!” she started noticing his change in mood, and pushing her body weight back to look at him, “none of that. today is a good day. trust me, ill take any excuse to get my screentime down.”
“i love you,” he told her, grabbing at her body to pull her back into his embrace, “more than you could imagine.”
liked by maxfewtrell, team_quadrant and 111,230 others
landonorris soft launching on live tv wasn't enough, time to promote her to the gram
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maxfewtrell so glad i dont have to worry about slipping up on stream anymore
-> maxfewtrell chat aren't ready for what i have to say.
maxfewtrell 2nd photo is a violationnn - ynpng, pietra.pilao u gonna let this slide?
-> ynpng am i fuck. pietra.pilao we ride at dawn.
-> pietra.pilao omw queen.
-> maxfewtrell run landonorris whilst u still can
-> pietra.pilao you told me you deleted that photo maxfewtrell - sleep with one eye open xx
ynpng hate u with every fibre of my being rn <3
-> landonorris nuh uh
-> ynpng gonna unprivate my acc and let the world see the video of you falling down the stairs
-> landonorris might accidentally leak the video of you and the shoe incident
-> ynpng you wouldn't dare.
-> landonorris you wanna bet?
#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#lando x reader#lando smut#lando norris imagine#lando norris fanfic#formula 1#mclaren f1#mclaren#lando norris fluff#propertyofwicked#maxfewtrell#fewtrell!sister#lando norris smau
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★ SUPER SHY
sanji (opla) x fem reader
genre: angst to comfort !!
notes: request !! this is a bit of a long one… also, yes. the title is inspired by new jeans hehe. also, request have been closed for a bit because my inbox is flooded… i appreciate the support and will open requests again soon once i finish most of them!
you were sitting as you listened to nami complain about how the crew was running low on money because of luffy’s food needs. you thought about bringing up her clothing addiction, but since you wanted the ship to stay intact, you kept your mouth shut.
“and i always tell him that we have enough to last us in the kitchen, but he never listens! i swear next time he spends money on food without telling me i’ll-“, “nami!”, sanji called out, walking out the kitchen with a tray of drinks. he quickly made his way over to the table that the two of you were at.
“nami, take this. it’ll help you calm down. i know luffy can be stressful”, sanji smiled, handing nami the drink. “why thank you, sanji”, she smiled back, taking the drink from his hand. “hey! what did i do?!”, luffy shouted from the front of the boat where he was watching usopp fish. sanji simply didn’t answer, continuing to smile at nami as he pushed off luffy’s whining.
finally, he turned to you. “for you”, sanji quickly said, handing you your drink and walking off. your eyes narrowed at the short lived interaction. it seemed like he didn’t care about you as much as he did nami. maybe you were overthinking it. but what if you weren’t? had you done something wrong? did you offend him or something?
“y/n?”, nami called out, tapping your shoulder. you jumped at the sudden touch, snapping out of it. “are you okay?”, she asked, a small bit of concern on her face. “yeah, i’m fine. i’m gonna go to the bathroom”, you smiled, quickly dismissing yourself. before she could further question you, you were already gone.
you quickly shut the bathroom door behind you, letting out a sigh. looking up, you stared at your reflection in the mirror. walking closer, you began picking at parts of your face.
is there something wrong with me? sure, i’m not as pretty as nami or other girls, but am i that bad that someone like sanji would barely acknowledge me…? he flirts with every woman he can, yet he always ignores me… that says a lot, huh?
before you could even realize it, there were tears streaming down your face. insecurities were swallowing you whole, it was unbearable. you leaned against the door, sliding down it as you tucked your knees against your chest and laid your head on your knees.
“hey, who’s in there? i gotta use the bathroom”, zoro asked, banging on the door. you jumped at his sudden presence. “sorry, i’ll be out soon”, you replied back, your voice unexpectedly quivering. you didn’t hear a response for a moment, the silence making you a bit nervous. “i’ll just wait, it’s fine”, he replied. before you could respond, he walked away. you sighed as you rested your head against the door.
the day passed by quickly as everyone was seated eating the dinner sanji had prepared. “where’s y/n? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked, holding an extra plate. everyone looked around, shrugging. “i haven’t seen her since this afternoon, she might’ve fell asleep early”, nami answered. sanji rose an eyebrow but didn’t choose to question it.
after everyone, or so he thought, had left the kitchen, he started cleaning up what was left. “what the hell are you still doing in here?”, sanji groaned, being faced with the sight of the green-haired swordsman when he turned around. “quit whining, i can go wherever i want”, zoro fought back.
“did you say something to y/n earlier?”, he asked, picking up a random fruit on the counter. sanji rose an eyebrow as he continued scrubbing the dishes, “no? why are you asking me that”, he asked. “well, i saw her leave right after you gave nami and her those drinks. then i went to the bathroom and she was in there. sounded like she was crying or something”, he told him. sanjis eyes widened at what he said, pausing everything he was doing. “she was crying…?”, sanji muttered, turning to look at zoro who was playing catch with a random apple. “yeah, i guess. but if you say you didn’t do anything then maybe it was something else”, he shrugged, placing the apple down and walking out. sanji stayed in the same position he was in for a moment, thinking about what zoro said. he didn’t remember ever offending you, so what could’ve happened? he sighed, finishing up the last bit of the dishes left before closing up the kitchen.
soon enough, everything was packed away and sanji was able to go to sleep. he let out a yawn as he closed the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes. “finally, i’m exhausted- SHIT”, he exclaimed in shock, running into someone. “who the hell- y/n?”, he questioned in surprise. your eyes were wide as you realized who you had run into. you muttered small curses under your breath as you began to back away. “sorry, i’ll get going”, you started, beginning to turn around as you started to walk away. “no, wait”, sanji interfered, grabbing your wrist. your eyes widened at the motion. “were you gonna try to get leftovers?”, he asked. you let out a light laugh, trying to skim over the topic. “what? no! i just- well…”, you stuttered. yeah, you were busted.
“why weren’t you at dinner? nobody ever skips dinner”, sanji asked. his hand was still on your wrist as he looked into your eyes, a small bit of concern being prominent. “wasn’t hungry”, you muttered, looking away from him. he rose an eyebrow at your odd behavior, something was up and he knew it. “you don’t expect me to believe that when i just caught you trying to sneak leftovers, right?”, he asked, cocking his head to the side. “it doesn’t matter, just forget it. im going to bed”, you sighed, trying to pull your hand away from his hold. “tell me what’s wrong, y/n. did something happen? did someone say something?”, he asked, trying to look you in the eyes, something you were dodging.
“where is this concern suddenly coming from?”, you muttered just loud enough so he could hear you. that left him even more confused than before, his eyebrows tightening as he tried to figure out what you meant. the silence finally pushed you to look at him. you wanted to scoff at his confused expression. “you don’t care about me like the others, and you don’t have to pretend to because it’s just us here”, you told him, your voice a bit stern. his eyes widened at your words, shocked and lost. “wait, what? where is this coming from?”, he asked, a mix of concern and confusion lacing his words. “you always avoid me, sanji, and it hurts. it hurts a lot. you don’t look at me the same way you look at nami and other girls, you always keep our conversations short, hell, sometimes you don’t even look at me when we’re talking. i get it, maybe i’m not pretty like nami, or as entertaining as luffy and usopp, but is that really enough of a reason to hate me?”, you ranted, your voice cracking. once you started, you couldn’t get yourself to stop, it was a never ending pile of word vomit.
once you finished, you sighed, sniffling as you wiped a few tears running down your face. the silence was deafening as you looked at the ground, anxiously waiting for his response. “…is that really what you think?”, he finally muttered, his voice just loud enough so you could hear him. your silence clearly told him what your answer was. “y/n, look at me”, he asked. you remained still, your eyes staring daggers into the ground. he sighed, gently moving your head with two fingers so you’d face him. “listen to me when i say this. i do not hate you. it’s the complete opposite of that, actually. if i knew what i was doing made you feel like this, i would’ve stopped being such a wimp”, he sighed. you rose an eyebrow at his choice of words. “wimp?”, you questioned. “the truth is that i really, really like you. so much that i become a nervous wreck around you. that’s why i kept our conversations so short and never looked you in the eye. cause if i did, i’d probably explode on the spot. but to think that because i was such a coward that i had you feeling like this, had you skipping a meal all because i was nervous. i’m such an asshole”, he spoke, his regret being notable in his tone.
your eyes were blown open at his words, your jaw a bit agape. this whole time you thought he hated your guts, but in reality, it was the complete opposite. he was just nervous around you. you didn’t even know someone like him could get nervous around women. before you could reply, you felt his arms wrap around you, knocking the breath out of you due to shock. “im sorry, y/n. please forgive me. it hurts to see you cry, and it’s even worse knowing it’s my fault”, he apologized, his voice dripping with sorrow. you opened your mouth to speak, but you couldn’t even find words. you were shocked to say the least. sanji took the silence as a form of not accepting his apology, so he sighed. “it’s alright, i understand, i’ll-“, “NO! no, wait. i’m just shocked, that’s all… i forgive you… it’s alright”, you yelped, grabbing onto the sides of his arms. his eyes were wide for a moment, but quickly softened. a small smile grew on his face as he looked at you .
“you know what would be a nice make-up gift, though?”, you started. “what is it? i’ll do anything, you name it”, he answered quickly, pulling away from you to look you in the eyes. just as you were about to speak, your stomach let out a loud grumble. the two of you froze for a second. “guess my stomach spoke for me, huh?”, you laughed. sanji let out a light chuckle.
“one fresh plate coming up!”
© mirkoluvs. please do not copy, modify, or repost on other platforms. thank you !!
#one piece#one piece x reader#op sanji#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#one piece netflix#opla sanji#op#one piece comfort#one piece angst#sanji comfort#sanji angst#sanjionepiece#sanji#sanji live action#one piece live action#opla
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elle… elle… imagine me crawling into ur inbox like i’m crawling through the desert like i haven’t had water in days… i have a request.
do you think maybe maybe we can get just some potter!reader and james sibling interactions… i’ve been thinking abt it so hard i love u ok bye
hahaha here, have a quick little baby blurb starring our favourite siblings
Barty Crouch Jr x Potter!reader who is spending the hols with the Potters, apparently [638 words]
CW: siblings, swearing, island of misfit toys, reference to The Shining
“What’s everyone doing for the hols?” Peter asked around a bite of his toast to the rather large group gathered at the Gryffindor table that morning.
Marlene waxed poetic about how she was going to Tuscany with her folks and lamented that she wasn’t going to get to see Dorcas even once, whilst Dorcas simply rolled her eyes and stated she was going to be skiing with her parents in Switzerland and was really looking forward to it.
Lily was going to be visiting some of her relatives but was happy to announce that she was going to be visiting Mary for a weekend at her home.
Remus admitted that it was going to be a quiet affair at the Lupin cottage in Wales but would be spending a weekend at the Potter manor to visit Sirius (and James! Don’t forget James!).
“How about you, Junior?” Peter asked cautiously; always worried of eliciting any sort of response from the Slytherin boy, though not wanting to insult him by not asking him as well.
Barty looked up from his book to see the table's eyes on him. “Uhm, I’m just staying here.” He responded simply, causing you to start shaking your head in disagreement as you worked to swallow the bite of food you’d just taken.
“No.” You amended. “You’re staying with me.”
“I am?” He asked as James gasped “he is!?”
You nodded simply as you took a sip of your tea. “I asked mum and dad last week, they said it was fine.”
And if Barty had been mad that you’d asked your parents for such a thing, or upset that you didn’t deign to inform him of these plans, he didn’t show it as he offered you an agreeable shrug and moved back to his book.
“Excuse me.” James deadpanned as he stared daggers at you. “No one asked me.”
“Why in the buggering fuck would I have asked you, Jamie?” You spat back at him.
“Uhm, because it’s my house too!?”
“No one asked me when you moved in the creepy twins from The Shining! No offence, boys.” You amended quickly as you offered an apologetic smile in Sirius and Regulus’ direction, which earned you a simultaneous “none taken” from Regulus and an offended “we duel at dawn, Trouble” from Sirius.
“Well-...” James started, though he couldn’t seem to find an argument as you raised a brow at him. “Well I just…think someone ought to have informed me, is all.” He finished haughtily.
“Yeah, okay.” You offered sarcastically. “I’ll be sure to give you ample notice next time.”
“Next time!?” James beseeched. “You can’t keep bringing them home!”
“Why not!? You get to have two of them!?”
The two of you continued verbally sparring as Barty, Sirius, and Regulus all exchanged a look at being referred to as them.
“You’re being ridiculous; it’s not a competition.” James spat pretentiously.
“No?” You said, causing everyone else in the group to brace themselves at what was no doubt going to be a special brand of Potter nonsensory. “In that case, I’m going to go see if the Rosier’s want to join us.”
James stared at you with his mouth agape as you made to stand from the bench. “You wouldn’t.”
“Watch me.” You challenged before taking off towards the Ravenclaw table where you knew at least one Rosier would be sitting.
“Fuck.” James hissed, now standing as well as he began frantically searching the Great Hall. “Uhm… oh, Fenwick! Need somewhere to crash for the holidays!?”
"I'm sorry I asked." Peter let out with a heavy sigh as Regulus muttered something French and likely very unflattering regarding his boyfriend under his breath.
“Potter Manor; home of misfit wix.” Remus mumbled, earning him an indignant “oi!” from his boyfriend, “watch who you’re calling misfits, Lupin” from Regulus, and a snort of laughter from Barty.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#barty gate#barty crouch junior#barty crouch jr#barty#slytherin skittles#the slytherin skittles#barty crouch jr imagine#barty crouch jr x reader#barty crouch jr x you#fluff#comedy#siblings#ellecdc fics
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home.
Spencer Reid x reader fluff!
thank you SO much for the love on my first post, I’m so glad you liked it! Ill be honest, I started this with a completely different plot in mind but, here we are! Enjoy!
*****
5 days. That’s all it had been, but to him it felt like a lifetime.
The more he thought about it, he realised, it was the longest you’d ever been apart.
You’d been asked to stay for a week in London with Garcia and Morgan to assist on a case that Emily so lovingly emailed over late last week.
One minute it simply words on a screen in your inbox, the next you knew you were on a plane over the Atlantic.
Every night you and Spencer had spent as much time as possible on the phone, some evenings only getting 5 minutes but others being hours. But it still wasn’t enough.
You missed him. More than ever.
The case was tough and starting to take its toll on you, it felt never ending and you started to wonder when you’d actually be able to return to the place you called home.
The truth is, London was your actual home. Being born and raised there until your early 20s when you transferred over to the BAU unit and the rest was history.
Yes, it was nice to be back in familiar territories. Moaning about tourists blocking the pavements, stopping every 2 minutes to take photos of a bird sitting on a fence..
The god awful weather still going strong as you were now on your 5th day of rain, wondering if you would actually see a glimpse of sun before you left.
But home wasn’t London anymore, it was wherever Spencer was.
And he wasn’t here.
****
You’d taken the papers back to your hotel room, the sheets all spread across the floor in a disorganised manner yet you still knew where everything was and that worked for you.
You were still in the same clothes that you had put on about 26 hours ago, cold coffee in hand, staring at the black text on the papers as if the answer would just jump out at you if you continued to do so.
Your phone ringing is what brought you out of your trance, letting out a loud yawn before answering it.
“How’s my favourite girl?”
Was all he said and it had you melting, bringing your knees to your chest as you leant back onto the bed.
“Hey Spence” you mumbled back, you could practically hear his smile on the other end of the line forming, just at the sound of your voice.
“What time is it there?” You added
“about 2 ish”
Shit. That meant it was 6am for you, and you didn’t even realise.
High praise for the blackout curtains in the room I suppose.
“And you’re still awake?” Your voice was sturn
“So are you?” He hit back. Fair play.
“I could’ve just woken up, you don’t know”
But he did. He knew you, sometimes better than you knew yourself.
“This is me you’re talking to baby, do you want me to hang up and ring back so you can see my name on the screen again?”
Again, you could practically see how he would be sitting. Arm folded across his chest, either book still open in one hand or a hot cup of tea hooked onto his thumb. Smile as big as could be.
“Point taken” you mumbled
“Tell me about your day” he was quick to respond, you hated yourself for how there was a quick second of the feeling that you couldn’t be bothered.
You were exhausted and missing him.
You didn’t want to be talking to him over the phone about the same thing you’d been discussing with endless people all day.
You wanted to be back at home, enveloped in his arms as he pulls you back into him as you try to leave the bed.
Or running your fingers absentmindedly through his hair as he tells you yet another fact about how despite its significance, London was actually the smallest city in the UK.
You missed the little things, you missed him.
“Y/N?” His voice broke the silence as you sighed, words leaving your lips before you had a chance to even process them
“I miss you, Spencer”
There was yet another pause, almost a huff coming from his end of the line as he replied
“I miss you too, sweetheart”
“Spence, honestly I’m drained” you began to ramble
“I’ve been staring at these same pieces of paper for days, I’m starting to think I’m just wasting their time being here”
He could hear you throw some of the documents onto the floor, bringing your hand to your forehead to relieve some of the tension.
“He’s killed 5 women since I’ve been here Spencer, 5. How useless am I that these women are literally depending on me and here i am, failing them”
He was hurting, he was hurting because you were hurting.
“Baby, don’t talk about yourself like that” he assured, you could feel tour bottom lip quiver as the tears formed in your eyes
“You know they asked you to be over there for a reason, you’re good at your job. You deserve to be there with the best of them and don’t forget that”
“But I do-“ you tried to cut him off but he was quick to interject “uh uh”
“I will stay on this phone with you until you can tell me you’re good at your job, I don’t care how long it takes, Y/N. I want to hear you say it”
“What about if I don’t say if, just to get you to stay on the phone with me?” You lightly chuckled, heart fluttering as you hear his huff of laughter you so dearly missed.
“I mean, I have to be on the jet in 6 hours so if you’re happy for the whole team to hear our conversation then that works for me”
“Spence, I just feel as though I’m losing my mind. Tell me what I’m missing” you almost pleaded, knowing that if he was here he probably would have this case solved by now and back on the plane home.
“You know the most important thing? Honestly, it’s what I do all the time and it truly does work”
You sat up in hope, waiting to hear his groundbreaking methods of solution.
“Sleep, Y/N”
You huffed, returning to your hunched back, cross legged position of defeat.
“That’s not fair” you scorned, his light laugh flooding through your ears “I thought you were actually about to help”
“I mean it sweetheart, you can’t give your best to something on no sleep. I’m worried about you and if I can’t be there to look after you, I need to know that you’re looking after you”
His words hurt, you knew he was worried but never thought he would just come right out and tell you.
“Fine” you huffed, crooking your neck to keep the phone in place at your ear as you start to get undressed.
“I’ll have a quick shower and then I’ll get into bed” you assured “then I’ll text you in the morning with how many hours sleep I had”
You waited to hear his laugh but there was nothing.
“Can I ju-“ his tone was filled with doubt, like he was second guessing what he was about to say
You let the line go quiet, waiting for him to finish his thoughts
“Can I just stay on the phone with you?”
You felt as though your legs could give way at the pain in his voice, the desperation to just have more time with you had you filling with guilt.
“Of course, Spence”
There was a hum of happiness and content, practically seeing how he slumped back into the headboard of the bed in the comfort of your words
“Why don’t you tell me about your day?” You questioned, giving up on the idea of the shower as you climbed into bed
“Oh! Funny story actually. Hotch had….”
There it was, the voice of such piece and familiarity that you so badly missed.
He was your home.
#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid#spencer Reid x you#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#mgg x reader#mgg
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Ray! 🍅 anon here, I said I wasn't going to request but there's one idea I've been really, REALLY itching at.
So you know how you reblogged "cold nights" by beiibeii? Yeah about that... I think I cooked an angst idea of this on a related tangent? (If you choose to write this, ofc)
How about Mother!Reader who is faced with the same scenario of Arle neglecting them to the point that she loses hope in their relationship? Think of the angst when the children constantly remind their Father of important dates but she's away or somehow missing most of them because of work. To the point reader just implies for them to stop trying and accepts the fact that they married Arlecchino but is now simply the Knave's wife? Like even the children can see them losing hope which is why they sometimes lowkey plead with their Father to actually pay more attention to Mother. Mother marrying Father means that Mother is strong but behind their strong facade you can see their sadness! You can feel their loneliness! And their sense of isolation and sorrowful acceptance of their new reality. And Arle does not pick up on the subtle signs until it's Too Late. Like. Reader in the coffin Late.
And as the Knave's wife Reader does need to undertake missions like in "I am Fine in Your Arms" but because reader has lost so much hope in living a wife outside of being the Knave's wife, reader does not make an effort to return alive. The angst of the burial, maybe the children blaming their Father etc. The really young ones aside, I don't think they would be actively angry with their Father, just very, VERY, disappointed. HotH would lose its warmth for a while before Lyney, Lynette and Freminet try their best to build it back (but of course, it never becomes as warm as it used to be)
Whether or not you choose to give this one a happy ending is up to you, but on my end the only happy ending that I cooked up for them is that Arle wakes up in the next Samsara with all these memories of losing Reader and prevents the relationship from going South in the first place. (Bonus points if Reader also has the memories and compares it to how they were treated by Arle previously, makes a comparison, and goes "How I wish this were my Arle" without knowing that it actually IS their Arle, just acknowledging she fucked up BIG time and is now making heavy amends for it. and Arle Knows because of that look that Reader gives her, sorrow and joy in a complex blend.)
...I think by now you can tell that I'm an angst writer too HAHSHHSHA Nobody leaves my fics without getting a knife and I promise it's just for the plot (like we always say).
I've still been keeping up with your writings (Beauty and The Beast actually fits, holy-) (Someone send Siren!Arle a whole farmhouse of ham for her consumption please) and yes I agree that you've been pumping out bangers after bangers. (I mean. Given that, you probably can afford to be a little indulgent? If writing this much quality about your muse doesn't give you the OK to put your hands all over them, abs and all, what does?)
As always, prioritise your sanity and schedule first, stay well rested and hydrated!
Lost Warmth
(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)
A/N - Link to my momma's (@beiibeiii) piece right here. If I see you read this before reading the masterpiece I just linked, know that I am a very disappointed axolotl. 😔 Anyways, you might be able to tell just how long this has been sitting in my inbox… haha… my bad guys. T^T. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to write more angst. :3 And thank you for the additional comments 🍅 anon. I do have quite a soft spot for siren! arle, seeing that she was my first request (and requested from my momma :3). Wanted this to be a little longer, but I do have to wake up earlier tomorrow, so this is what you get T^T. Hopefully it's still good. Content warnings / info - angst, character death (duh), reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise GN!, 1.4k words
Cold is a feeling you've long gotten used to. Cold is your husband's dismissal of your existence, with every interaction ending with her blunt words and back towards you, leaving you with a crumbling heart. Cold are the long nights as you anxiously wait for Arlecchino's appearance for a candlelit dinner you spent half the day preparing, only for her never to return until you fell to exhaustion on the couch, a flower bouquet that remains unreceived in your hands. Cold is the creeping loneliness in the late hours of the night, when you've finally grown tired of anticipating someone that will never come, and returned to bed alone. Cold is the way you shiver underneath the thickest of blankets, no one's body warmth to sink into, no one's softly whispered words into your ear to drift you to sleep. Cold is when instead of your husband, only dim stars, a bottle of liquor, and the tears that stream your face join you in bed.
When was the last time you had felt warmth?
You recall when the Knave first started courting you, how gentlemanly she was for such a rumored cruel Harbinger. You were first just a caretaker of the House of the Hearth, this small orphanage which you quickly found to be home for you. You couldn't help but adore the endearing children, watching as you slowly became a staple in this family. Despite your best efforts of hiding it, Arlecchino noticed when you snuck in the occasional pastry or cake from the town's most lavious bakery for the children, out of your own paycheck as well. It was then, your husband admitted, when she first fell for you. It had taken her months of encouragement from her ‘pestering’ children before she asked you out, and it was impossible to not fall for her charm.
How could you not? Not when she held you like you were her world. Not when she viewed you higher than the Tsaritsa herself. Not when her touch was heavenly, her words silky and sweet. When she proposed to you, your heart leapt with levity, and you thought your life was perfect now. A warm house, fitted with warm parents, that was what you had had, you had never felt so content.
Then came the long nights. Nights when she trudged home later than usual, where she fell asleep without a word but sunk into your arms still. Then she started forgetting, forgetting about the dates and birthdays, and anniversaries more and more. At first, you chalked it up to her demanding Harbinger duties, but as time grew and the excuses started to run out, the perfect life you knew was crumbling.
You became aware of this two years after your marriage when you had been preparing dinner for the two of you once she arrived home, slow cooking a steak since the early hours of the morning. Just as you exited the kitchen, you heard some children surrounding your husband before she left for another Harbinger meeting, telling her that you had a surprise for her once she came home and how excited you were for her to enjoy a new recipe you created. Your heart swelled with hope and appreciation for your children, especially when Arlecchino promised she would return in time.
You should have known better.
You ate your tear-ridden steak alone and went to bed, leaving the steak out for her for whenever she returned home. Just like how you fell asleep, you woke up without your husband's presence, and when you arrived at the kitchen, the meat and the note besides the plate were untouched.
You tried to eat the cold steak for lunch as well. You threw it away at the first bite. That day, you gathered your children, pleading them not to ‘pester’ Father with more reminders, as she was very busy. All that you gained back from the children was pitied expressions, and the agony in your chest worsened. Your children could pity you, but your husband couldn't? Even with your husband's coldness, you still carried out your Mother role, if only for the children. You cannot deny that the children's antics helped you forget the ever-present void inside you, caused by Arlecchino.
You never learned the reason for Arlecchino's behavior, why she had grown so cold towards you. Now, you suppose, you would never know.
Red fills your hazy vision as you lay on the ground, your entire body aching and fatigued, desperate gasps for air while your heart pounds in your eardrums. Your side was sliced, and the crimson liquid quickly poured out of the wound while you tried to stop the bleeding, but to no avail.
This is your end, you think to yourself as you weakly turn on your side, every nerve in your body protesting against the movement. Your bloodied hand comes into view, your engagement and wedding ring gleaming slightly underneath the blood. The rings bring your thoughts to Arlecchino–oh, how you imagine the common disappointment in her otherwise apathetic expression, disappointment at your mission's failure. Your eyes bubbled and blurred with tears, vivid memories of your wedding flashing through your mind. The wedding ring is beautiful, still polished with that bold scarlet, the same color of her eyes, the same eyes you could never stop drowning in.
Would she even know your absence? Would she ever acknowledge you, treat you properly like her partner even if you did return? You doubt it. Did you want to return a cold bed, to a husband that does not love you, to a house no longer warm?
It's warm.
Your body feels like fire courses through your veins as you feel inexplicably hot, yet it's a welcomed heat. It's the first time you've felt this, but it feels familiar, comforting, like a hearth, and you want nothing more than to surrender to it. It soothes your heartbeat and calms your breath, easing your body as if you were to sink into the most plush of beds, swallowed by the thickest of blankets. The warmth coils around you, wrapping you like a cozy embrace, evoking you to sleep. Your eyes flutter shutter, a faint smile plastered on your lips.
It feels just like Peruere's arms.
—
Arlecchino receives a letter addressed to her on the third day you've been sent on a mission. The contents make her drop the paper, and she rushes outside, without an additional word, leaving the House.
The children do not see her until she returns late into the night, a body wrapped in cloth in her arms. Arlecchino raised her children to be smart, to be attentive, to be logical. Whose body it is, they realize with little difficulty.
The children weep that night. Arlecchino does not. How can she, when her source of emotions is gone?
The burial takes place soon afterwards. As your body is placed into the ground, Arlecchino can feel the weight of her children's stare on her back. The charged tension between her and the children is palpable without words. She cannot discern which of the two reactions cut deeper. The seething fury underneath the oppressive grief for the young ones, having to lose another parent, or the crushing dismay inhabited by the older ones, specifically the twins and Freminet.
Their thoughts are clear, even when none of them speak out loud.
How could you fail Mother?
The House of the Hearth no longer suits the orphanage's name, not with your missing presence. There is no warmth, no matter how much the trio tries to fuel a lost flame. Even with Arlecchin's pyro vision, it is futile.
Arlecchino stands before your gravestone, a bouquet of your favorite flowers in her hand, and she rests it beside the other bouquets by your grave. Six bouquets in total, for each day after your burial.
“For all the flowers, I should have given you, my love,” she whispers as she addresses you, glancing up to the heavens. The last two words make her feel like a fraud, undeserving of calling you hers, when she had clearly never shown so.
Arlecchino, the Knave, the Fatui Harbinger, does not plead, does not beg, does not kneel. However, her knees drop to her dirt, and she grovels. “Please… wait for me one more time, my dear. Once I meet you again, I promise I'll never leave you alone, I'll never let you out of my arms again.”
There is no reply.
Arlecchino feels cold.
#arlecchino x reader#arlecchino x you#arlecchino#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin impact fanfics#genshin impact fics#genshin fanfics#genshin fics#edgeray.writes#edgeray.requests#edgeray.🍅anon
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♦️There Are No Words Left to Speak ♦️
Chapter 5 of That's What You Get
Prev Chap || Next Chap
Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem Reader
Summary: In a panic, you spill your guts to Penelope and receive some much needed advice before your "date" with Reid.
Warnings: None!!
A/N: This one is 4k words long because I absolutely could not help myself 😭 I've has a lot of messages and asks about this series lately, and it's been really encouraging to see! If you like this chapter, please comment or reblog and let me know or come chat with me in my inbox! Happy Reading!!
You can find my masterlist here and the series masterlist here.
"Penelope, I fucked up and I need your advice," you screamed into the room as soon as the door slammed open, startling the other woman as she threw her phone up in surprise.
"Jesus, Y/N, you're lucky I didn't reach for the all too full can of pepper spray I store in here, oh my god."
"I'm sorry, Pen, I'm just, I'm kinda freaking out, and I need your help."
"Are we going to need wine, or are we going to need ice cream and a chick flick? What kind of problem are we talking here?" she asked from her place at the desk.
"I married Spencer in Vegas." You said and then clamped your hand over your mouth as you finally let the pressure of the weekends mess seep out of you now that you'd shared your secret.
"Oh my god, both, we'll do both. We need both, let's go, let's go now."
–X–
Penelope drove the two of you home, immediately moving into a mothering role as soon as the words left your mouth, and she could see your impending implosion. You were grateful that she didn’t ask you any further questions as you made your way back to her apartment, just turning on the radio to a channel playing 90s pop hits and simply letting you calm down through the fun music.
When you finally got through her door, she let you get comfortable and then immediately came back with all the things she promised.
“Okay, I know you’re more a rose girl, but all I have is this really nice white that Derek got me for my last birthday and half a bottle of tequila, and I think it’s better for the both of us if we don’t open the tequila. Also, I have chocolate, cookie dough ice cream, and tissues, and When Harry Met Sally on DVD, I'm ready to be plugged in and played as soon as you say the word.”
“Penelope, we do not tell you how brilliant you are as often as we should.”
“While that is true, I’m trying my best not to immediately cave and ask you to spill, so can we please sing my praises after you explain what you mean by saying you married Spencer.”
“God, Penelope, I don’t know what happened,” you let your head hang in your hands and she immediately moved to sit closer to you, rubbing a hand over your back and getting the tissues ready.
“We went out drinking, and my mom got in my head earlier in that call I took, and I don’t remember anything and then I woke up and we were in bed together and-” you rambled out, lifting your head up as you tried to explain, but she cut you off quickly there.
“You were in bed together? Did you… you know, bump uglies with Spencer? Do the old in n’ out? Sorry, I’m making this worse, I’ll shut up now,” she said, but you laughed at her enthusiasm, and you felt more of the weekend’s tension leave your body. You knew that you had made the right decision coming to Penelope with this. She always knew how to make you feel better.
“I don’t know, but it looks like it. TMI but-”
“Hold on, I don’t think I want to know what the Good Doctor is like in bed.” She visibly shuddered, and you let out another shaky laugh.
“Well considering I remember none of it, you’d be hard pressed to get those details from me. I did wake up handcuffed to the bed, though.”
“Shut the front door, no you did not!” Penelope’s jaw dropped. “Oh god, I’m almost morbidly curious, but I don’t want to open that can of worms. Sorry, please continue.”
You took a swig of the wine she poured you and relaxed a bit further into her couch, pulling your legs up under you to find a more comfortable position as you told the rest of your story to Penelope, gaining more confidence with each of her reactions to what you told her.
“So, now we just need to track down our two witnesses and get the marriage quietly annulled, and we can forget it ever happened.” You could hear the frown in your voice before you realised you were making that kind of expression, and from Penelope’s reaction, you could see that she’d noticed too.
“Oh.. oh, I know that look. You don’t want the annulment, do you?”
“Yes! I mean, no! Look, I really don’t know how to answer that right now, it’s just…” you trailed off, and Penelope silently filled your wine glass again, not saying anything and letting you come around at your own pace.
“Earlier today, after we told Rossi, and before I came running to you, he… he kissed my forehead, and he called me Mrs. Reid, and I really liked it. And I didn’t think about it before, but Reid is nice, and he is good, and he is obviously really smart, and, god he’d be a great dad, and he took care of me yesterday and today… Penelope, I think I have a crush on my husband.” You gasped out, feeling the weight of your revelation as it hit you straight in the gut.
“But we talked about it and we’re getting an annulment and now it’s like I fucked up before I really got the chance to let it go anywhere, and what if it’s a mistake? What if I made the world’s greatest fuck up and married a great man in Vegas and then threw it all away a week later?” you raked your hand through your hair quickly, trying to ignore the tears forming quickly in your eyes.
“Oh my god, sweetie, it’s going to be okay… You’re going to have to trust me when I tell you that it’s going to be okay…” she patted you on the back and you let the tears fall down a bit, quickly dabbing them away with the now balled up tissue in your hand.
“I don’t know if I can, Pen…” you tried to smile up at her, but you could feel your lips wobbling and you let your head hang again before you could let out a choked sob.
“No, nonononoonono, listen to me… Okay, promise you won’t hate me after I say this?” She said, squishing your cheeks between her hands as she made you look up into her eyes.
“I pwomise,” you sniffed out, voice muffled by her strong grip. She let you go then, content that she had your attention.
“I know for a fact that the boy is as infatuated with you as you are with him because… because I saw you two.” She stopped there to watch your reaction, but you froze, so she continued.
“You… you called me from wherever you guys were out in Vegas, mumbled some words over the phone and then sent me a picture of a brochure with an address on it, and then when I turned up it was a wedding chapel and you were getting married.” She winced out those last words, and you gasped at the confession.
“You were one of the witnesses! Penelope!” You pointed an accusatory finger at her, but it was half-hearted. You knew that you were stubborn enough while sober. You certainly wouldn’t have been persuaded out of something you obviously wanted while blackout drunk.
“I know, I know, I’m sorry, but you guys were just too cute! He was giving you all these small kisses on your forehead and on your cheeks, and you looked like innocent kids giddy and high on love, and I didn’t want to bring you back down to earth. You looked so happy, and I do not make it a habit to get in the way of my friends’ happiness.”
“Penelope, why didn’t you say anything?” You groan out, sounding a bit like a petulant teenager who has just discovered her mom threw out a shirt she hadn’t worn in years.
“I wanted to, but I was told not to…” she winced away. “And before you ask, I won’t tell you who else was there! Just know it was someone else who also loves both of you and would’ve pulled you two out of there. No questions asked if they thought you were making a stupid decision!”
You let the revelations sink in, one by one. Penelope was there. Reid couldn’t keep his lips off of you. The other witness thought you two were good together. It almost didn’t surprise you when you started giggling, finding humour in the situation at least.
“Oh my god, Penelope, I got married in Vegas to my coworker. And I think I’m in love with him now.” You were in a fit of giggles now, and Penelope hesitantly joined in at first.
“Yeah, I suppose it is funny when you put it that way.”
“God, what am I going to do? How am I going to face him from now on?” You pulled yourself together again and faced Penelope again, hoping that she would have actual answers for your very rhetorical question.
“Well, at least we have a couple of days off now. You don’t have to see him again until we go to work.”
“No, we have a date tomorrow,” you said matter-of-factly. “Appointment, really, he’s reading some books on alcohol induced memory loss tonight, and then I’m going over to his place to see if any of it can help us fill in the blanks.”
“Oh god, you’re going to talk books with Reid. That’s practically as romantic as it gets for him. No wonder he wifed you up.” You playfully kicked her leg, and she laughed again. “Okay, so no avoidance, okay. Maybe you could put the moves on him? Try to recreate that scene with the handcuffs. Who knows what might happen.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you then, and you did your best not to once again be overcome by a fit of giggles.
“Okay, enough of my romantic problems. I was promised When Harry Met Sally and that ice cream has probably melted, so let’s get to it.”
–X–
You braced yourself at the apartment door as you psyched yourself up to knock. As promised, you’d been greeted in the morning by a text from Spencer with his address and a proposed time to meet. He’d suggested 5pm, and you’d agreed, but here you were 20 minutes early, probably looking overdressed and over eager to spend time with your coworker/ husband/ soon to be former husband, maybe.
You’d left Penelope’s apartment that morning, having had an impromptu sleepover, happy that you’d at least confirmed your own feelings. You’d taken a taxi to collect your car, then spent the rest of your time at home overthinking and overpreparing.
You’d put on a dress and some make-up, and you were almost regretting the decision now you were on his doorstep, wondering what he’d think. You worked one of the toughest jobs in the world together, and you knew that he’d seen you completely black and blue after going blow for blow with unsubs in the past. Would he think this sudden effort was weird? You tried not to pace, knowing that your footsteps in the hall would alert him to your presence, but you couldn’t bring yourself to knock just yet.
You checked your phone again. 4:45. You couldn’t spend another fifteen minutes out here overthinking, so you finally just pushed ahead and knocked. Almost as if he had been waiting on the other side of the door this entire time, Reid answered immediately, not even letting you get a third rap in before he was there standing in front of you.
“Hi,” you said, standing there awkwardly with your hand still up, ready to knock again.
“Hey,” he replied, smiling at you.
You felt his eyes trail down your body, taking in your appearance. The dress you’d chosen wasn’t particularly special, just a mid-length tiered dress with bow straps. The weather was getting chillier so you’d layered it over a plain turtleneck, enjoying the added bonus of not having to conceal down your neck to mask the love bites he’d lavished upon you only a few nights prior.
You looked at him as well, and you were pleasantly surprised by his casual wear. He was more dressed down than he was in the office, but not by much. He was still wearing slacks, and a button down shirt as well, but he’d thrown a beaten up CalTech sweater over the top of them, and he looked so cosy you wanted to bury your head in his chest. He was wearing his glasses, and you were so thankful for that, as you forgot how well they suited him, fitting him perfectly.
“You’re early.” He said, finally breaking the silence between the two of you, drawing you out of the trance he’d kept you in while you took in the sight of him.
“Yeah, I guess I just overestimated how long it was going to take to get here. Is that okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, it’s great, totally fine. Come in.” He moved his body to the side slightly so you could enter the door, but kept his outer arm pressed against the door so you had to duck under it, brushing past him as you went. The small contact made your entire body buzz, your heartrate picking up as you willed yourself to act natural.
“The food should be here any minute.” He smiled as he followed you back into his apartment. “I wanted it to arrive before you got here so I could surprise you.” You turned around to face him, and you could hear the bashfulness in his voice as he made the admission.
“Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you smiled up at him. “What did you order?”
“I remembered you mentioned that Korean streetfood place a while back that does those spicy rice cakes and kimbap rolls, so I got us some of that. Is that okay?”
“Sounds perfect.” You were touched that he even remembered the conversation when you yourself couldn’t even think of when it might have happened. He turned and walked further into the apartment, and you followed him this time, finally looking around and taking it all in.
The walls were obviously lined with bookshelves, and there were books laying around in piles everywhere. The walls were painted a dark colour, which made the space feel calming, almost more intimate, and sunlight was streaming in from the open window on the back wall.
“Sorry, it’s not much. Take a seat wherever, and I’ll grab those books I was talking about.”
You took a seat on the couch and watched him trail around the room, picking up books from several shelves and stacks.
“Okay, this is all of them. So the main takeaway is that it usually takes two weeks to fully recover memories from alcohol induced blackouts.” He explained, bringing you a stack at least eight books high.
“Spencer, did you read all of these last night?” You asked.
“Yeah, I said I would, I thought it would help.”
“Spencer,” you took his hand into yours as he set the books on the floor and flopped down to the couch beside you. “I really appreciate you putting in all this effort to help us, but you could’ve just come home and relaxed, you know. Our case was long and tough, and now all of this, you deserve a break.” You stroked your thumb over the back of his hand, trying to make the gesture calm and reassuring.
“I know, I wanted to do this. I want to remember what happened between us,” he whispered the words softly, not needing to fill the space with much sound as you’d crept closer and closer together since he’d returned.
“So, uh, two weeks then, is that it, we just have to wait for the memories to return?” you asked quietly, letting go of the small moment you’d shared to get back to the task at hand.
“It seemed so, but there are some other more general tips we could implement that could help us piece together what happened. We might at least be able to figure out who our witnesses were.”
You felt almost guilty then, but you kept your mouth shut. You’d decided the night before that you wouldn’t tell Reid about Penelope. At least not yet. You wanted the time first to see if he could possibly feel the same way about you before you worked up the courage to let him in on what you had learnt.
“Yeah, I’m open to try anything. Within reason, that is.”
“Great! I was thinking at first that maybe we could do a cognitive interview, but as we only have each other to work with, I thought that might make some of our answers more biased and not garner effective results. But we could still try to jog our memories by working out some of the same emotions, doing some things we could have done that night, and seeing if any of it rings a bell?”
“Some of the things we did that night?”
“Yeah,” he repled.
“Like… like make out or get handcuffed to a bed?” You enjoyed watching the flush creep up his neck, and his eyes go wide as he struggled to backtrack on that one.
“No, no! I mean, unless you want to, or you think it would help?” It was your turn to be left speechless, your mouth suddenly not complying with your brain as you begged yourself to respond somehow. All you could muster was a glance down at his lips that lingered a bit too long, your body slowly creeping forward.
He noticed and moved closer towards you as well, letting his hand grasp your waist as you got caught in his atmosphere.
“It’s worth a try, right? To regain our memories.” He supplied you with the words, letting you stay silent as your lips grew closer and closer together, seconds away from taking your breath away forever.
A loud rap at the door and a shout of “delivery” had the two of you suddenly bouncing away from each other, Reid scrambling to the door to collect the food, while you stood up awkwardly and tried to pretend there was something really interesting on his bookshelf that had caught your attention all of a sudden.
For the Nth time in so many days, you found yourself trying to convince your heart to beat a little quieter, and you managed to get yourself under control as he returned with the food.
“I’m sorry, I lost track of time…” he trailed off as you nodded, joining him back at the couch as he began unpacking the food.
“It’s totally fine, we should eat anyways, trust me when I say this stuff doesn’t taste even half as good cold.” You smiled at him, but it didn’t go quite to your eyes. You really wanted to kiss him, and you were really doing your best to control your disappointment, not wanting to show off how desperate for him you were.
“Well, you’re in luck, because you now get to witness one of my only flaws,” he said, fishing out two sets of chopsticks from the delivery bag. “I am absolutely terrible with chopsticks.”
You giggled at him and grabbed the pair he offered you, letting out a dramatic fake gasp. “And you only tell me after we get married? That’s it, I want a divorce,” you laugh, and the two of you settle down into a comfortable silence as you begin your meal.
–X–
Two hours later, and you’re still no closer to locking lips with the man than you were earlier. You’d had a nice time talking with him over the food, both of you sitting like kids on the floor as you ate over his coffee table. He’d told you about a Korean film festival he’d attended a few years back, one of many international film festivals he’d been to, and you sat and listened, in awe of the way his eyes lit up when he talked about something that excited him. You hoped that one day, he’d talk about you in that same way.
You helped him clean up and settled back onto the couch, where he’d mentioned having a copy of one of the films that had since been subtitled, and you ended up in another movie marathon.
The movie was good, but his presence next to you was even better. He’d stretched out his arms on the couch behind you, letting you snuggle up into his side as you pulled your legs up and under you, screwing yourself up in a comfortable little ball, burrowing into him for warmth. He was a fire beside you, and you wished you were bold enough to push further into him, to drag your hands across his skin and feel even more of him, continuing the exploration from earlier. But you weren’t, and, honestly, you were tired, so you let yourself sit peacefully beside him, touching but not much, as you were lulled to sleep by the sounds of the TV.
It was pitch black outside when you finally cracked your eyes open again, but he was still there next to you on the couch. The movie had been turned off, and so had the TV, and there was a blanket now wrapped around your legs, so he had obviously moved, but he had also come back to you. You shifted your head up to look at him and smiled. He’d picked up another book from who knows what shelf and was reading slowly so as not to wake you with the movements of his hand as he traced down the page. Your head had moved from his chest to his lap, and he held the book off to the side in one hand, his other resting protectively over your waist. He was so engrossed by his book that he hadn’t even realised you’d moved and that you were awake until you spoke to him.
“Spencer? What time is it?” you asked, your voice thick with sleep.
“It’s 11:30. You fell asleep during the movie and you looked like you could use the sleep.”
“Wow, what a way to tell a girl she doesn’t look so good,” you laughed at him as he pouted down at you.
“I didn’t mean that. Y/N, you look beautiful today. You look beautiful everyday.”
You lifted yourself up from his lap, one hand braced on either side of his legs on the couch as you bought yourself eye-to-eye with him, your chests close enough to touch if you took a big breath in. Instead, yours were shallow as you looked up at him through heavy eyes.
“Thank you, Spencer.” You whispered, silently begging him to close the space between the two of you. But he didn’t, instead, clearing his throat and putting his book down, breaking your eye contact.
“I should be getting home now. It’s pretty late.” You said, standing up from the couch. He followed you up and around as you started collecting your things and organising the space you’d occupied.
“Y/N it’s late, and you’re tired. I can’t let you drive home like that. An estimated 30% of road accidents occur due to sleep deficiency, you know.”
“It’s fine, I don’t want to get a taxi and just leave my car here and then have to come back in the morning. I’ll be fine driving,” you said, but he softly took the keys out of your hands as you grabbed them from your bag.
“Stay here tonight.” He said, less of a suggestion than an already established fact. You looked up at him and knew there was no changing his mind, but he continued anyway.
“I have a spare toothbrush and some old clothes you can probably use as pajamas, and it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before. Maybe…maybe waking up next to each other again will help jog our memories, too. We only have until the end of the week, right?”
He looked at you expectantly, and you let out a little sigh and nodded your head, letting him guide you away to the bedroom and back into sleeping in his arms.
--×--
🏷 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira @danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil @shqwqrma @shits8gigs
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x oc#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fluff#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid series#that's what you get
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I made a post a few days ago about how dire the hits-to-comments ratio is in this fandom and since then I have tried an experiment, got great results, and I am back to explain how we solve this problem as a community.
Several people made disheartened comments on the previous post about how consumer culture has finally made it to fandom (that is, people don't comment on fics as much any more because they're passive consumers of content rather than equal participants in fandom) but... I kind of think that part of this might be our responsibility as fic authors as well, and something that we as can do something about and take agency over. Because yeah, it's correct that commenting has gone down, but you know what I also don't see very much anymore??? People adding a note at the end of the fic saying "Comments give me life!" or "If you liked this fic, please let me know, a nice comment makes me smile all day" or "Comments keep me energized to write more, please let me know if you enjoyed this!" or "I would love to hear what you thought of this! :)"
The culture of a community is not something that people just know instinctively. It's something that has to be taught, just like manners and etiquette in any other context (you don't know the fish fork from the entree fork from the dessert fork until someone shows you, for example). The venn diagram of "the good old days of fandom when lots of people were in the habit of leaving comments" and "the bad old days when we had to humbly ask people to please comment if they liked it at the end of fics" is probably almost a circle. Yes, it's true that we are living in a society where we are being encouraged to be passive consumers of content and that this is probably leaking into fandom spaces. But the way that we start course-correct is to simply communicate clearly in public about what your needs and preferences are. Not in posts like this, because not everyone is going to see it and it will eventually disappear into the ether, and because one big essay isn't going to affect much change. Just... in small spaces where people will see it immediately when it's relevant, like in the end notes of your fic, or in the caption/description under your fanart post. It is not a bad thing to tell people that you like comments. You are not vain or arrogant for wanting engagement and appreciation for something you made out of love and enthusiasm, you are HUMAN. It is not a bad thing to communicate your needs. And oftentimes it is way more effective than you realize until you have actual data to back it up, like the data I'm looking at right now for this fic.
I made one change on the most recent chapter, and that was to put this at the end:
LISTEN TO ME REAL QUICK HERE, WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT SOMETHING. This fandom has the worst comments-to-hits ratios on fics that I've ever seen. That sucks. Comments are part of a healthy fandom ecosystem, and I can't tell you how many unexpected friends I've made just by telling them I liked their fic. If you don't feel like leaving a comment on this fic, that's okay with me. But you have to PROMISE that you'll leave one on the next three IWTV fics you read, ok? Give our authors some love so they'll keep writing. It'd be a really, really long hiatus until s3 without them.
Since posting this, I can only describe the state of my inbox as, "Oh, THAT'S more like it, there we go, much better!" So... try it out? Tell people that their thoughts and comments are welcome? Remind them that this is a good thing to be doing? It's not going to make everyone comment, but I bet it'll make at least a little bit of a positive difference, and the more people start doing it, the faster we'll inch ourselves back to a thriving and healthy fandom ecology. :)
Rome wasn't built in a day, and culture has to be taught, and the best and happiest kinds of communities grow when the participants are aware and intentional about it.
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Im the type of person that wouldn’t do the silent treatment if Tom got me mad. I would stay out all night and not answer the phone just to make him mad. How would Tom react 👀?
PERSISTENT - T. KAULITZ
synopsis: after a fight with tom, you decide to go out clubbing, much to his annoyance. no matter how many times he calls, you ignore him, bringing him to his own breaking point. and once you come home, he doesn’t plan on going easy on you.
content: angst + mentions of smut, i’ll do a part 2 if u guys want lol
a/n: tom being rough and possessive is so hot like i would purposely piss him off just to see him mad… ANYWAYSS thank u for the req anon!! i’m so sorry if i haven’t done ur request i have like 50 in my inbox so it’s taking me a while but i don’t have an order of how i do them so it’s pretty random what i’ll choose to write but yea pls bare with me!!🙏🙏
“come on, i said i was sorry. you’re being so fucking dramatic.” tom says, standing on the other side of the room as my eyes are fixed on my phone screen, not paying any attention to what he is saying, still liking how the idea of punching his face sounds. he knows that he has fucked up, deciding to forget to show up to my family dinner yesterday, instead rehearsing with the band all day and crashing at bill’s place, not showing up until right now - 8:30pm the next day. and, he had dug himself an even bigger hole, telling me to ‘calm down’ when i expressed my anger towards his incompetence.
“am i?” i mutter sarcastically, refusing to make eye contact. unbeknownst to him, i was texting my friends, making sure that nobody had plans, organising the final details of which bar we would go to, deciding that if tom can stand me up without telling me, then i can go out partying as i please, whether he is aware or not.
he tuts beside me, his slow and tired steps trudging towards me as his figure falls onto the bed, the mattress dipping next to me. he places one hand on my ass, massaging the flesh lightly, his lips meeting my neck as he plants rough, open-mouthed kisses over the skin. i take no notice, continuing to tap the keys of my small smartphone, not at all tempted by his lazy advances.
“please baby…” he mutters against my neck, kissing the skin harshly between his words. “i’m sorry, let me make it up to you, hm? i’ll make you feel so good. just let me touch you princess, you’re so beautiful.”
his shitty attempts to win me over are almost pitiful, my body still as i try to stifle a laugh, a smile spreading across my face as the text that confirms that everyone can make it comes through. i say nothing, detaching tom’s arms from my lower back, getting up from the bed and walking towards the closet, picking out the sluttiest dress that i own, knowing how much tom hates me wearing it.
he watches me from the bed, his eyebrows furrowed, staying silent for a few seconds, yet the second he sees my hands grab hold of that dress, he sits up, his confused voice sounding through the bedroom.
“woah woah woah, what are you doing?” he asks, standing up and moving in front of me, attempting to block my way.
i simply roll my eyes, moving past him and placing the dress on the bed. “going out.” i shrug, my fingers reaching to the hem of my t-shirt, lifting the soft material upwards and over my head, tom watching me do so.
“wearing that? no you’re not.” he scoffs, quickly snatching the dress from the bed and holding it against his chest. i turn around, my upper half now completely bare besides from my bra, tom’s eyes focused on my cleavage, his expression still angry.
“stop playing and give me the fucking dress.” i sigh, holding my hand outwards and trying to snatch it from him.
“you’re not going out. not without me.” he reiterates, his grip on the material staying tight as he looks into my eyes, his tongue poking the inside of his lips.
“yes, i am.” i state, quickly snatching the dress from his hands and running to the bathroom, frantically locking the door before he can get to me, his fists colliding with it as he groans in frustration, a string of curses leaving his lips.
“you’re such a fucking brat, you know that? open the door and quit messing around. this shit isn’t funny.” he yells, repeatedly banging on the door.
however i am too busy slipping the dress onto my figure, adjusting the small straps and brushing my hair into a slick ponytail, applying some extremely rushed makeup, all whilst he continues to shout at me from the other side of the door, pointless apologies and pleads to let him in sounding throughout the bathroom. i hurriedly grab my heels, placing them on my feet and taking one last look at myself in the mirror. i had looked better on nights out, but tonight was about revenge, and whilst i didn’t look my best, i still looked hot. hot enough to drive tom absolutely insane - especially considering that he would have no idea where i was, looking like this all alone his biggest fear, partly out of concern for my safety, but it was mainly because of his jealous tendencies. and whenever i dressed like this, even if he stayed by my side at all times, he became more possessive than ever.
yet right now, i want to make him mad, desperate to get him to the point of utter insanity, seeking some form of payback for what he had done - not caring about the consequences.
i emerge from the bathroom, tom stood inches away from me. he raises his eyebrows, his gaze moving downwards as he studies every inch of my body.
“no fucking way are you leaving looking like this.” he starts, shaking his head as a sarcastic chuckle leaves his lips. “you must be insane if you think i’d let you. do you have any idea of the kind of people out there? fuck that.”
“since when can you tell me what to do?” i laugh, taken aback by his sudden attitude, pissed off at the way he tries to control me, especially after what he has already done.
“since i’m your fucking boyfriend, incase you had forgotten! only i get to see you looking like this, i’m not gonna let you leave the house alone, letting everyone see basically everything. don’t be ridiculous.” he tuts, narrowing his eyes as i can sense the irritation in his tone. “i said i was sorry. if that’s what this is about, then you’ve proven your point, great job. but i’m not letting you leave, not wearing that.”
“you don’t own me, i can do whatever the fuck i want.” i shrug, pulling my dress up a little higher just to frustrate him more, before rushing out of our bedroom and through the house, quickly slipping out of the front door before he can stop me. he frustratedly calls my name from behind, a chorus of curse words and irritated demands all along the lines of telling me to ‘come back’ spilling from his lips until i close the door, running to my friends car and hopping in.
i look at my phone, already seeing five missed calls and a few texts, some apologising again, others telling me to come back inside. i roll my eyes, putting my phone on silent and engaging in conversation until we arrive to the club, spilling out of the car.
the place is completely packed, excitement oozing through my veins as we rush towards the bar, ordering far more shots than necessary, but in the moment i didn’t care - my mind focuses on one thing: pissing tom off. and i know that the more drunk i get, the more angry he will become, the idea satisfying to me as i pick up the small glass. i hold it to my lips, some lipgloss smudging onto it, my head tilting backwards as i allow the liquid to slip downwards, burning the back of my throat. i wince slightly, the taste strong and bitter, yet that doesn’t stop me as i pick up another glass, swallowing the liquid inside of it as fast as i can, eager to feel its effects right now, tired of feeling sober.
my friend takes my hand as i quickly swallow the last of my drink, following her shaky footsteps, all of us beyond tipsy. we find our way to the dance floor, slotting between a couple too focused on swallowing each other’s faces to realise we had pushed them aside. the alcohol finally sinking into my system, bringing along with it a sense of freedom that i had missed so much. i sway my hips to the music, getting lost in the rhythm, a wide grin on my face.
༻❦༺
i have no idea how long i have been dancing for, or how long i have been at the club for. i probably can’t even count the amount of drinks i have had on my fingers, now completely wasted as i sloppily dance to the music, my arms in the air.
“come on, we’ve got more drinks!” i hear my friend call over from the couch area, her words slurred and almost inaudible.
i smile widely, awkwardly shuffling through the crowd and over to the table, my movements all over the place as i stumble towards the couch, flopping onto it. my eyes turn to the large tray of drinks, filled with an array of shots and cocktails, my hands reaching for whatever drink i can touch first - not exactly picky at this point, i’ve probably consumed every cocktail to exist in the past hour. the sweet taste washes over my tastebuds, it’s bitter aftertaste now normal to me as i swallow it with no reaction, drinking the liquid like it is water, feeling happier with each sip. i place the drink down, glancing momentarily to my phone for the first time since i had left, seeing that tom is calling me again, at least twenty unseen messages filling my inbox.
baby i said i was sorry, come on. - 9:52pm
seriously, this isn’t funny anymore. - 9:52pm
come home now, i’m worried about u. - 9:53pm
where the fuck are you?? - 9:54pm
i swear to god if you don’t pick up the fucking phone. - 9:56pm
do u think this is funny? do u know how worried i am?? answer the damn phone. - 9:58pm
answer the fucking phone. i swear to god once i find out where you are. - 10:01pm
i’m coming to find you. - 10:04pm
i roll my eyes, placing my phone back in my purse and picking up my drink, finishing the last of it and putting the empty glass on the table. the place starts to feel increasingly warm as i decide to get some fresh air, standing up slowly from my seat, almost toppling over from the amount of alcohol i had consumed.
“anyone coming for a smoke?” i ask, turning to my friends.
they all decline apart from one, resuming their conversation over the loud music as the two of us head outside, pushing the doors open, the cold air hitting my face and cooling me down immediately. i open my purse, taking a cig out and lighting it, bringing it to my lips as i inhale, closing my eyes. the smoke fills my lungs, bringing a small moment of calm despite the low buzz still in my body. i exhale slowly, watching the smoke pour from my lips, disappearing into the night as i lean backwards against the cold wall, it’s harshness causing me to shiver a little.
i take a few more drags, holding the cig in between my fingers, enjoying the small moment of peace. the streets are practically empty, apart from the large queue of people waiting to be let into the club beside me, the diluted thumping of music drowned out slightly. the roar of a car engine, one that sounds strangely familiar, pulls me out of my hazy moment, my eyes turning to the source of the sound. i can recognise that car from anywhere - it’s headlights getting closer and closer as i roll my eyes, turning around and attempting to blend in with the small crowd of people outside.
i sigh in relief as my plan is successful - or so i thought. the car drives past me for a few seconds, it’s tyres screeching to a stop as the door opens, tom stepping out of it. his eyes frantically scan the crowd, his entire expression disjointed, chest heaving up and down as he tries to spot me. apparently my attempt at cover doesn’t suffice as his eyes lock with mine, his face softening as he lets out a sigh of relief, rushing towards me.
i groan, knowing that there is no point in running - he will always catch me, wasting my energy trying to escape would be useless. he comes closer, pushing the drunken bodies aside until he is standing in front of me, his face angry.
“jesus fucking christ do you know how scared i was?” he shouts, roughly grabbing me by my waist and smashing his lips to mine. though i can tell that this isn’t to show his affection, rather it is a way for him to release a small amount of his frustration, this not even the beginning of it.
“no way, really?” i question sarcastically, gasping as i pretend to be shocked, still furious for the shit he pulled lastnight, not interested in his feeling right now.
“lose the fucking attitude. don’t think that you’re gonna get away with this. we’re leaving, get in the fucking car.” he says, clenching his jaw and grabbing my hand. though he is clearly furious, he takes it gently, maintaining a steady grip, still careful not to hurt me.
“what if i don’t want to leave?” i challenge, a satisfied smile on my face as i know exactly how to further his anger.
“you don’t have a choice.” he states, rolling his eyes as he begins to pull me towards his car, his breathing heavy, face stern. i know that i have pissed him off, and perhaps gone too far.
he opens the passenger door, and i step in sulkily, knowing that i have pushed my boundaries. i fold my arms, rolling my eyes as he slams the door shut, quickly walking around to the driver’s side, angrily getting in.
“never fucking good enough for you is it?” he mutters, swiping his tongue across his bottom lip as he sighs, roughly clicking his seatbelt on. “i told you i was sorry, but you had to be a brat about it.”
i stay silent, sinking further into my seat as he places his hand firmly on the gearstick, beginning to drive away.
“where’s your fucking attitude now, hm? pathetic.” he scoffs, turning to face me for a second as i refuse to make eye contact, embarrassed at my change in persona, slightly scared by his tone, knowing that i have fucked up.
his foot presses harshly against the accelerator, speeding up, letting out his anger as his hand clenches the gearstick, tugging it roughly, his veins flexing with each motion.
“just wait until we get home. i’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you, maybe it’ll teach you to stop being so stubborn all the damn time.”
i sense the sincerity in his tone, recognising that he is completely serious, deciding to stay quiet to avoid pissing him off further. yet i cannot ignore the aching between my thighs, slightly excited at his threat, secretly desperate to get home so that he can execute his promise.
time seems to work against me, each second feeling like hours as the silence between us only fuels the tension. i have never been so relieved to see our house come into view, waiting patiently as tom pulls in, turning the engine off and staying in his seat. he takes a deep breath, his tongue messing with the metal of his lip piercing before he opens his mouth to speak, refusing to make eye contact.
“upstairs. and do as i say this time, if you want to be walking tomorrow.”
requests are open! as i said veryyy full atm but if i like ur req i’ll do it straight away so keep sending them in!!
#tom kaulitz#kaulitz twins#tokiohotel#kaulitz#tom kaulitz x reader#tom kaulitz angst#tom kaulitz smut#tomkaulitz#tom kaulitz fluff#bill kaulitz
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firstly happy new year!
i wanted to tell you i love your works and maybe ask if i can request a Thorin's company x reader where the reader is from our world and has many tattoos (like a full sleeve) and the company's reaction, maybe the dwarves show their tattoos too?
thank youuu so much!
Ooh, this is cool! Sorry it took so long this got buried in my inbox 😣 I’m going to try to keep the tattoos as vague/open as possible but I may describe em here & there, sorry 😅 Hope this is enjoyable & accurate hehe, ya girl does not have any tattoos herself~
Warnings: slight suggestive jokes, minor blood in one
Showing Thorin’s Company Your Tattoos
Balin
It started the moment he pulled out the contract. You’d gone traveling with the company but not officially joined until this moment. Soon as the parchment unfurled, you began rolling your sleeves up and out of ink’s way. Glancing upward, you caught Balin’s eyes upon the designs inked into your skin. “Oh,” you cocked your head, pen momentarily forgotten, “have you never seen tattoos like this before?” Such a question earned you a sudden burst of laughter from the white-haired dwarf, who shook his head. “Nay, not in the slightest! Quite the opposite. We dwarves are famous for our designs. I suppose that yes, I’ve never seen ones like yours,” he glances over yours once more, “but many I have seen.” Suddenly you felt compelled to ask: “Well, do you like them?” Balin smiled. “Of course I do! Just because they are different doesn’t mean they are bad. Watch out for my brother, though, he’ll be itching to give you a new one if you get on his good side.” He gave a wink and that sealed it for you- you knew it already, but it rang through your head once more that you had a place in this company.
Dwalin
It had started with a compliment. “I like your tattoos,” you told the shaven-headed dwarf with a smile and a nod his way. He looked surprised, then pride settled into his eyes beneath the fire’s flicker. “Thanks. Bet you’ve never seen anything like ‘em before, eh?” Matching Dwalin’s smug smile, you rolled up your sleeve to reveal the art covering your own body. “By my beard,” he breathed. “Would you believe me if I said there was more where that came from?” You teased. “May not have before,” the dwarf grinned, “but I certainly do now. Bet you don’t know what mine mean, though…” "Well then, tell me." Brows raising, he crosses his arms and looks you over as if anew. "And perhaps if you prove yourself, I can add to your collection." As you can imagine, this turned into quite a long conversation.
Thorin
The king-to-be’s eyebrows raise, a look of pure shock crossing his regal features when you expose the long expanses of tattoos you’ve decorated yourself with. Arching a brow, you assume it is some sort of royal sensibility and roll your eyes, at least until you hear Thorin’s faint words emerge, barely above a whisper. “My sister has something quite like that. May I?” Stunned, you simply nod, holding your arm out as Thorin draws closer, fingers gently brushing over your inked skin as a small smile creeps to his lips. “I remember when she got it. She wanted me to get one, too, but I was too afraid.” A deep chuckle. “You, I see, do not lack the courage. Dis would like you. Very much,” he comments, blue eyes shining into yours.
Oin
“You’ve gotta be more careful next time,” Oin shakes his head as he lowers you onto the blanket, one hand tucked carefully behind your head. “You’re welcome,” you grin, though the expression quickly turns into a wince as pain arcs up your newly acquired wound. Tutting, Oin says nothing, opting instead to strip off your layers to dab at the blood collecting there. He pauses, though, over your bared skin. “You never told me…” Gloved hand waving vaguely over you, and you chuckle weakly. “What, that I have an amazing pain tolerance?” “That’s one way to put it,” he replies, “and let’s hope so. You’ll need it. They did heal quite nicely, you know. Half the ones I’ve done looked a mess after.” “You do tattoos, huh?” You chuckle again, smiling up at him as he worked. “Now that I’d like to see.”
Gloin
Bursting into hearty laughter, Gloin claps a hand to your shoulder. "Thinkin' you can beat Dwalin, are you?” Obviously you are quite confused, tilting your head at him until you trace the line of his eyes to your exposed wrist. The edges of a tattoo showed there, bringing a chuckle to your lips. “Hadn’t thought of it like that,” you shot back, “but I suppose I would have him bested.” Gloin bursts into hearty laughter as you push up your sleeve to reveal skin entirely covered. “Bless me, I was teasing you! You really went for it, though! What did you do for yours? I managed to barter for mine,” he grins, pushing up his own sleeve to reveal a design near his shoulder. “I wish that was how it worked for me,” you sigh, rolling your eyes at the thought of all your lost money, “where I come from, it’s pay or nothing.” Cue Gloin lining you up deeds to get dwarven ink done should you so desire.
Bifur
Catching Bifur gesturing your way, you frown slightly and turn back around, fixing him with a look of concern at his hasty motions. Finally, he traces a hand up his arm, prompting you to peer down at your own. Ah, right. He'd probably never caught a glimpse of your tattoos before. You nod, sign a 'what?' you hope doesn't come across too cheeky, and grin when he gives up and rolls his eyes and grabs your arm. “Well,” you ask, “like ‘em?” In all honesty, you have no expectation for his reply, but the enthusiastic nod and tug up of his tunic still has your eyebrows raising in shock. He has one, too, it seems, at least the one, and wouldn’t you know it, it’s quite similar to one of yours. Smiling, you wondered if that was as meaningful to him as it was to you.
Bofur
“Well you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” You aren’t even certain what the hatted dwarf means until you follow his gaze down the length of the arm you’d bared to spearfish with, tracing the lines of your tattoos. “So you could say,” you reply mystically, waving fingers until the both of you are laughing. “Which one’s your favorite? I wanna see ‘em all. Well, if you’ll let me, of course, and…" Cutting him off with a hand held up and a smile, you answer, "I know what you mean. When we're done here, we'll need some time by the fire. I'll show you then." Eyes shining, Bofur gives you a grin and wades into the river with you. That evening, as you sat and warmed your soaked legs by the toasty fire, you rolled up your sleeve all the way this time, telling him the story of every single tattoo and chortling at his animated commentary.
Bombur
The others saw them, but Bombur’s reaction amused you the most by far. Without thinking, he grabbed your arm and held it up, eyes scanning your art beneath the warmth of his gentle hold. “Well,” you chuckled, “what do you think, do you approve?” “I quite like yours,” he agreed, “yours are pictures. I like them better than Dwalin’s.” A call of protest from the warrior dwarf rang out defending both his own art and of course the traditions of their people. But if you have any of things Bombur enjoys most, things representing family, food, animals, nature, and the like, he keeps fighting for you to the last word! "But I like the pictures! Have you seen them? Come have a look here." There you stand, your hand tightly in Bombur's grip, but you cannot help smiling.
Dori
The two of you had all but insisted the dwarves finally wash some of their layers, so they agreed under the express conditions that the ones who cared so do it. As you knelt at the riverside with a bundle of (frankly filthy) clothing, you rolled up your sleeves to the elbows and saw Dori staring out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t look particularly scandalized and you were used to eyes upon your art, expected it even. “Looking at these?” You asked with a smile. Sheepishly he nodded. “My brother has a couple of those. Always trying to get me to have one done,” he scoffed, “but I don’t exactly fancy a voluntary stabbing myself.” You can’t help laughing at that. “They certainly did hurt,” you agree in your mirth. Dori’s eyes slid down your forearm one more time. “You must be quite tough, then, aren’t you? Strong and sensible,” he beams.
Nori
One of your tattoos is especially meaningful, so the moment its subject comes up in conversation you are peeling back layers to reveal it. Many dwarven eyebrows raise as the sun strikes your skin, but you can’t help noticing Nori specifically, the look of intrigue and perhaps something else in his eyes. Challenging him with a look, you cock your head a bit at him. “Didn’t realize you had any,” he says simply. With a faint snort, you nod. “Well, here you go,” you roll up your sleeve further. Nori’s eyes trail up and down the expanse of skin one more time. “I’ve got a few myself.” Naturally, you ask him where, and that is when he breaks into a rakish smile and winks. “You’ll have to guess.”
Ori
Smiling at Ori as you accepted his sketchbook, you pushed back your sleeve to save it from smudging his work or the addition he'd welcomed you to make on a new page. An entry into his little world you were honored at the invitation to create. But when you glanced back up at the dwarf, your joy faded sharply away at the widening of his eyes. Shock, no doubt, at the revelation of the ink covering your forearm, designs you'd hidden for fear of distaste or harsh questioning. Quickly you slid the fabric back down, but Ori just gaped, looking more than a bit awed. "You have so many. Did they hurt?" A common enough question, posed innocently as you'd expect from the company's youngest. "Some more than others, that is for sure," you answered simply, "but I took it in silence." Humming in further awe, Ori leaned closer to you. "Nori screamed like a baby bird the whole time he got his." Bursting suddenly from your chest, your laughter cascaded over your whole body in relief, comfort returning to your little world. "I quite like yours better than his, too, especially that one," Ori added, pointing where he'd seen a particularly nice piece. Perhaps you should have known the artist would understand.
Fili
“Whatcha got there?” Glancing down at the utensil in your hand, you shrug. “Ladle. I was helping Bombur do the rinsing.” At that, the elder Durin heir smirks. “Not that,” he says, gesturing up from your hand, “those.” Right. “Oh, my tattoos? If you’ve never seen anything like them, I can tell you-” “Never seen anything like it?” Fili snorts in amusement, crossing his arms. “I take it you’ve not looked upon the dwarven kings of old.” Removing his coat and outer tunic, he bares his own arms. “I’d like to get mine here.” He touches his bicep. “One ringing each side.” “How convenient,” you tease as he flexes the toned muscle of his arms. “What?” “Nothing,” you snort, shaking your head.
Kili
The pair of you had been sparring, Kili parrying your every move before you finally sat down in defeat, accepting a newly-filled waterskin gratefully. The dwarf kept teasing you, saying all that he could about how well he knew you and the like. "Why, I practically know everything about you," he said with a proud look, "you'll not be surprising me any time soon." "Well, then, if you know me so well," you countered, "which tattoo is my favorite?" "Very funny, you haven't any..." Kili's eyes widened as you rolled up your sleeve, scanning every inch of ink. "...Tattoos." "What was that you were saying?" You asked, smirking into his speechless gape. Curse him, he regained his composure quickly, though, expression falling back into the smile you had to admit you loved. "Well, I certainly know which one is my favorite."
Bilbo
You start tugging at your top at the collarbones and Bilbo’s eyes practically pop out of his head when your tattoos peep at him. “You too?” He asks, tone incredulous. Chuckling in amusement, you fix him with an inquisitive look. “And what does that mean?” “Well,” he begins, voice faltering, “I suppose I just thought of that as, well, as a dwarf thing. What with Dwalin and all.” “Surprise,” you tease him with a grin, exposing more skin he flushes at the sight of, “but look, I think you’ll quite like this one…” Any tattoo you have from nature, after all, surely catches the hobbit's gentle eye in a heartbeat. “Oh, that is… quite beautiful,” Bilbo breathes with a faraway smile, “can I touch it? Wait, what am I saying, I’m sorry…”
Taglist: @kilibaggins @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart | Message me/reply to join!
#the hobbit#the hobbit imagines#the hobbit x reader#the hobbit headcanons#thorin’s company#thorin’s company x reader#balin#dwalin#thorin#oin#gloin#bifur#bofur#bombur#dori#nori#ori#fili#kili#bilbo#ask#shobolanya#requested
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Good Evening
prompt: after a hard day with SAMCRO, Chibs could really use a shower, a dinner and your presence. Nothing else but a sweet evening with his s/o.
gender neutral!reader, third pov, Chibs & reader are a couple, reader is friend with Sons of Anarchy, 820 words
warnings: mention of blood, mc’s activites, nudity, smoking, drinking (wine) allusion of sexual activity, age gap, physical touch (romantic way)
a/n: small fluffy imagine with Chibs just bc I love him; don’t hesitate to send request for every character you want (:
masterlist - inbox
“Babe I’m home,” you heard Chibs’ voice across the small apartment you two shared. You got up from your bed you were sitting on and you came to meet a slightly bloody Chibs. “Not mine,” he just whispered as he saw you looking at him.
“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” you simply asked while you both were heading to the bathroom.
“Nope. Right now I want you and me in the shower,” he replied with a grin, which made you laugh.
“You never stop,” you said and he shook his head.
“Never, babe.”
Chibs kissed you, already undressing himself. You did the same, and the both of you went under the hot water. You were used to Chibs’ activities with the Sons of Anarchy. In fact, you were used to the charter’s activities. So when Chibs would returned at home all bloody after a day, you would not freaked out or complained. You would always stayed there for him if he wanted to talk, but you would never pushed him, only doing whatever the two of you wanted to enjoy your evenings.
After your shower Chibs was only wearing a towel around his hips while you were already wearing your pyjamas.
“What d’you want for dinner?” you asked him.
“Ye,” he replied, a crooked grin on his lips.
“Again? You sure you can handle that many rounds?” you were only playing with him, of course.
“Love, I migh’ be more than 15 years older than ya but I still can show ya who’s the boss here.”
He gave you a kiss and a small slap on one of your butt cheek, making you laugh.
“To be honest I’ll eat whatever’s left in the fridge and the cupboards. I think ya’ll need to run some errands tomorrow if it’s alright for ya.”
“Yeah no prob’ I’ll do it.”
You smiled softly, already busy finding what to cook. You knew Chibs could also cook, but sometimes you just like being the one cooking. While you were busy making dinner, Chibs would usually set the table and poured a glass of wine for the both of you, the smell of his smoke blending with the smell of the food.
After having put some sweat pants on, Filip returned in the kitchen, dinner almost ready. You didn’t do anything fancy, only spaghetti, but that was always great for him after a day working with the club. You put the plate before him as he was turning the tv on. You sat next to him and he gave you your glass of wine.
“What d’ya wanna watch?” Chibs asked.
“Let’s watch Pride and Prejudice!” you immediately replied.
“Again? Isn’t it like the third time in two month we watch it?”
“Yeah but I love it,” you said with big pleading eyes.
“‘kay but next time I’m the one choosin’ the movie.”
You smiled and went to put the dvd in the player.
It was your little habit. Just you two and a movie night, relaxing together. Of course Chibs loved to spend the night at the clubhouse but sometimes he was better alone with you than with the club. And sometimes he also loved having you around at the clubhouse. It all depended on his moods, yours, the day you both had. And right now, spending some time with your loved one, felt like the perfect evening.
“Aye, can’t get enough of that movie, can ye?” Filip put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as the movie just finished.
“I’m sure you love it too,” you joked.
“Kinda have too, after havin’ watch it that many times.”
Chibs laughed then kissed you and you went deeper in his embrace. You smelt his cologne mixed with the smoke and you felt at home.
He let a hand running through your hair and you stared at the paused screen in front of you. The black background was letting you see yourself in Chibs’ arms. You also could see his disturbed face and look.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” you asked, brushing his cheek with your nose.
“Too many things, babe. Don’t wanna upset ya with the club’s shit.” He kissed your forehead. “Jax’s a good president, I trust him enough.”
You nodded and kissed his cheeks. He lit a cigarette and you looked at him, only to meet his gaze on you.
“What?” you asked.
“Nothin’. Ye’re cute. What if we go to bed?” Chibs asked, a small and soft smile on his lips. You agreed and you both put an end – in your bedroom – to another crazy day.
You knew a small evening with you in his arms could make Chibs’ day better, so that’s what you did tonight. With him, you never felt the need to ask him about his day or about the club’s activities because he was the one to talk to you when he needed to.
#sons of anarchy#soa#chibs sons of anarchy#soa chibs#chibs telford#chibs x reader#chibs x you#chibs imagine#sons of anarchy imagine#soa imagines#chibs fanfiction#soa fanfiction#sons of anarchy fanfiction#filip telford#filip chibs telford#soa x reader#sons of anarchy x reader#soa x you#sons of anarchy x you#domestic fluff#fluffy imagine#gender neutral!reader#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral fanfic#gender neutral reader#soft fanfic#soft chibs telford#tommy flanagan#chibs telford x reader#filip telford x reader
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brothersbestfriend!Robin who fucks reader everytime she's over the house. Once reader's brother is practically blackout drunk or tired, she goes over to reader's room and has her fun with reader 😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨😮💨
(I don't even have a brother, nor do i know where this came from. But obviously I felt like ur inbox is the most suitable for this one)
𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫’𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬 ⋆˙⟡
-r.b. x reader
summary: the title is pretty self explanatory but here’s my take on having somewhat of a summer romance with your brother’s handsome best friend (robin buckley, duh?)
warnings: SMUT!! (mdni), vaginal fingering, oral sex, strap-ons, semi-public sex, light spanking, orgasm denial, nipple play, dirty talk, pet names (baby, good girl, my girl, princess), maybe the slightest bit of humiliation if you squint, let me know if i missed anything!!
a/n: thank you @aylasology for requesting this and for helping me with the creation of these headcanons!! as always, find my summer fic masterlist here!
⟡ your brother’s best friend who always wears a strap beneath her pants when she comes over (to see you). you can feel the bulge press against your center when she pulls you in for a hug, certain she can hear the soft gasp that falls from your lips.
⟡ you’ve been crushing on her for the longest time. how could you not? she’s funny, and -truth be told- kinder than your brother’s other friends. on top of that she’s so god damn handsome.
⟡ but you would’ve been too scared to actually try and make the first move.
⟡ so you’re grateful that she’s the one to flirt with you at one of your brother’s parties: when walking past you, she moves your body out of the way with a hand on your waist. a hand that lingers.
⟡ playful banter over a shared drink turns into two, which then turns into innocent dancing together.
⟡ the rest is history, but led to frequent make out sessions in your room, to secret touches when no one’s around, to fucking in the back of her car.
⟡ whilst you don’t want anyone to know, robin loves to tease you around your brother: putting her hand on your leg under the table or whispering things in your ear when she’s passing by.
⟡ brother’s best friend!robin who fingers you on the dinner table when it’s just the two of you ??
⟡ she’d never tell but when she’s done with you or when you leave her alone in your room, she steals your underwear from time to time (though you’ve obviously noticed that they’re missing and that she must’ve taken them)
⟡ so when robin is back at her place she’ll get it out from her back pocket and finger herself raw to the thought (and scent) of you.
⟡ once you figured her out, catching a glimpse of a lilac pair of panties that’s peeking out of her pocket, you make sure to leave them in places where she’ll find them.
⟡ or she’ll simply take them from you once she’s done eating you out in the bathroom. just shoves them into her pocket and leaves you with shaky legs and no panties to put back on.
⟡ brother’s best friend!robin who catches you masturbating because you forgot to lock your door. she walks right in on you fingering yourself or humping your pillow while moaning her name.
⟡ once, she pushes you against the wall of your room so your face is pressed against it. she bends you over at the waist and takes your from behind like this.
⟡ “gotta be quiet for me baby. your brother is right next door. we wouldn’t want him to know what i’m doing in your room now, huh?” “shh, be quiet sweet thing” etc.
⟡ and if a moan does slip out, robin smacks your clit until your gushing, hissing: “that’s not quiet baby” into your ear.
⟡ she definitely puts a remote controlled bullet vibrator into your underwear when you’re hanging out with your brother and his other friends.
⟡ + she turns it up every time it’s your turn to speak.
⟡ and when robin notices you trying to sneak off to the bathroom for some relief, she obviously follows you, making up some vague excuse of you “seeming a little unwell”.
⟡ (you’ll end up with one leg thrown around her waist and her fingers in your mouth while she’s fucking her strap into you)
⟡ sucking robin’s strap in the back of her car that’s parked in your driveway???
⟡ after she took you out for dinner, robin offers you a ride home. you told your family you’d be out with friends so you have to be quick so they won’t spot the familiar car in the driveway.
⟡ her hands are in your hair and her strap is nudging the back of your throat as you bob your head along its length.
⟡ she moans whenever you take it into your mouth deeper, as if she could actually feel your warmth around her.
⟡ she does that whenever she’s fucking you, whether it’s her fingers or her cock sinking into you: pretends she can actually feel your cunt throbbing around her.
⟡ “so tight for me princess, fuck”
⟡ and she makes the most obscene noises when she’s going down on you: whimpering and moaning like a woman starved whenever she has the chance to eat you out.
⟡ she definitely has somewhat of an oral fixation.
⟡ always in the mood to eat you out if you’ll let her. always either sucking on your clit or fucking her tongue into you.
⟡ when you’re riding her, she’ll suck your nipples into her mouth immediately: the sight of your bouncing breasts right in front of her eyes too tempting for her not to give in.
⟡ and that woman has got stamina.
⟡ she can and she will spend hours between your legs: both arms wrapped around your thighs to spread them for her mouth while she eats you out.
⟡ her, holding you open with her thumbs to spit on your pussy???
⟡ it’s a rather rare occasion but when you do go down on her she’s loud.
⟡ she’ll hold you by the hair, groan in pleasure and praise you.
⟡ she’s so sensitive too!! <33
⟡ moaning for you and your pretty mouth and you haven’t even flicked her clit with your tongue yet.
⟡ robin will always be in charge though: she’ll pull you by the hair until she’s got you where she wants you. and if you don’t give her that, she’ll spin you onto your back and ride your face.
⟡ she’s lowkey athletic from some kind of sport she does with your brother.
⟡ which comes in handy when it comes to her picking you up and fucking you up against the nearest wall
⟡ additionally, you love to trace the the fine outline of her abs
⟡ pulling down her boxers whilst kneeling in between her legs and watching the strap come free 👁️👁️
⟡ she loves to talk dirty to you. she literally will not stop. not when she’s pounding into you, not when she’s eating you out, not when she’s finger fucking you mindless.
⟡ you’re pretty sure that, by now, her voice is probably enough to get you off.
⟡ „that’s it, that’s my girl. come on, cum for me baby”
⟡ robin loves to make you work for it: she loves to have you on your back, at her mercy, with her fingers fucking you closer and closer to the edge without ever pushing you over it.
⟡ “aw, do you want to cum baby? yeah? i see the way you’re lifting those hips for me. are you getting close? yeah?”
⟡ but she could never deny you for too long: she loves it when you fall apart beneath her. she loves to watch your pussy throb or even gush with your orgasm and the way your face contorts in pleasure.
⟡ robin would quite literally fuck you everywhere if given the chance. and even though it’s not often that you get to have the house to yourselves, when it does happen she makes good use of it…
⟡ …by bending you over the kitchen counter or the armrest of the couch.
⟡ but her favorite way of fucking you might just be eating you out from behind.
⟡ with your cunt fluttering around her tongue and your ass against her palms all while she’s making you cum again and again.
#robin buckley#robin buckley x reader#robin buckley x female reader#robin buckley x fem!reader#robin buckley x you#robin buckley smut#robin buckley x reader smut#robin buckley x fem!reader smut#robin buckley imagine#robin buckley fanfic#stranger things
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Desperate Measures | Remus Lupin x Reader
Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox
Summary: (Part 1: Desperate Times) After your break-up Remus doesn't know what to do with himself, but when he finally gets to see you again he promises himself to make it up to you by any means he can
Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, small amount of angst, big amount of smut, minord dni, 18+, unedited writing, still not sure if smut is my strong suit but won't stop me from trying
Word Count: 3.4k
A/N: A lot has happened while I took a break from writing for a little while but it basically comes down to the fact that I still struggle with my mental health on a daily basis and writing isn't always my priority. While I do not plan to stop writing any time soon, the intervals of them will probably continue to stay longer. So thank you to everyone who has the patience to wait. Anyway, today is my birthday, so this is my small gift to all of you for the occasion xx
His friends didn't dare say anything, no, they could see how he was doing, they didn't need to ask. So they let him sulk, and it's not like they hadn't tried to cheer him up, but there was nothing that seemed to work. Not the speech from James, not the distractions Sirius tried, and not even the chocolate muffins Peter swiped from the kitchen could get a smile on his face. Just letting him wait it out seemed like the best option. But as time continued to pass and Remus continued to sulk, they realised a more hands-on approach was needed.
They weren't sure if talking to you would go over well, so they decided to test the waters by talking to your friends.
"What do you want Potter" Lily glared at James as he sat down next to her.
"Don't you think it's time she apologizes"
Now see, all of them were used to the incredulous looks Lily would give James, but this one beat the record.
"What in the seven hells are you on about"
"Remus has suffered enough, he hasn't left the dorm in nearly a week."
"So?"
"So. Whatever fight they had she clearly seems fine" he gestured over to where you were sitting a little further away, breaking your pastry up into small bits to eat as you laughed with Marlene over some joke he couldn't hear.
"Don't you think she should apologise to him by now, they always make up eventually"
Lily dropped the exasperated expression as her face turned to stone while she spoke her next words.
"Yes, James, she seems fine. I found her crying her eyes out on the bathroom floor. Just because she is coping better than Remus doesn't entitle him to anything. "
James's overconfident demeanour dropped slightly. He had been worried about his friend all this time, he hadn't stopped to look at how it affected you. But when paying closer attention he could see Lily was right, there were bags under your eyes and they were still a little red, you must have cried even more after the night Lily was talking about.
"You know I care for her as well, but Remus is being stubborn, he won't even talk to us, won't even tell us what happened, we just thought that if she saw the state he is in, she'd maybe forgive him, get through to him"
"There is nothing to get through about. He broke up with her, now he's suffering the consequences, good riddance if you ask me"
Now it was James' turn to look startled
"Hang on a second. They broke up?" Lily copied his expression
"Yes they broke up, what did you idiots think was going on"
"We figured they fought, they fight sometimes but they always make up" Lily started shaking her head as she answered him.
"Not this time, he broke her heart, James. Even if he did regret it, I'm not sure she'd forgive him, and I don't think she should either"
Taking a last look at you, James bolted from the table. All this time they had simply assumed he was irritable because of a fight, but you had broken up. Not only that, it was Remus that had broken up with you. No, this would surely not do, not if they could help it.
Over the next few days, they came up with a plan to, in the easiest of terms, get Remus to beg for forgiveness. It all started with the party
"I'm really not in the mood Sirius" Remus was stretching time the most he could, but Sirius wasn't letting up.
"You've been cooked up in that bed for nearly two weeks now, people are starting to wonder if we've killed you with one of our pranks. Besides, if nothing else there'll be liquor, liquor solves everything"
Normally Remus would have argued, but strangely enough, this time Sirius had a point. But Sirius had a mission too. Yes, he was following the plan step by step. He had talked to Marlene, who had promised to get you to the party as well, which was probably a much easier task than he had been left with, seeing how after last week you had decided it was no use sitting around moping any longer.
He dragged Remus down to the party going on in the Gryffindor common room, poured him a glass of the strongest thing he could find, and got him settled on the couch. For a moment he debated getting Remus to dance, but that might have been a bit too ambitious. Either way, Remus was here now, Sirius's part was done.
Remus saw you standing on the other side of the room, and either you hadn't noticed him yet or you were simply ignoring him, but you seemed to be in your own world. And he was fine with looking at you from where he was, after all, that's the fate he had resigned himself to. He was fine with watching you because you seemed like you were enjoying yourself.
But it didn't take long for his so-called plan to crumble down like a poorly constructed house of cards. Because he saw someone walk up to you, he saw someone get close to you, someone who wasn't supposed to.
What was Evan Rosier doing at a Gryffindor party? But he didn't have much time to think about it, because he saw Evan walk up from behind you, and at first you seemed startled, but when you turned around to face him you seemed to light up. You pushed up on your toes to hug him and Remus's stomach started to twist. Not in the way it always used to when it came to you. His insides used to do somersaults every time he got a smile out of you. No matter how sour of a mood he was in, it would light him up.
His friends used to poke fun at him for it, but they soon realized you were the only thing that would cheer him up when their usual methods had run out, and they surrendered to the spell you seemed to have him under.
But this was nothing like that. Evan secured his arms around you and you let him, why did you let him? He knew he had been avoiding you, but he couldn't have missed this much. He sat there and watched, his body seemed to have turned to stone as if you had been Medusa herself. His eyes he couldn't keep off you, it was only when Evan pulled back that he thought the nausea that had bubbled up in his stomach would disappear, but he couldn't have been more wrong. Because the moment he did, Evan took off his jacket, and put it around you. The green colour of it engulfed you and Remus was filled with it just the same.
He felt as if he wasn't in control of his own body as he stood up from the couch, walking in your direction. He wasn't even sure what he would say, what he would do, but he could no longer sit and watch idly. So when Remus reached you he did the only thing that made sense to him, he pulled you in and kissed you. He kissed you like he had thought about doing every minute for the last few weeks. He had wondered if your lips were still as soft as they used to be, what a stupid question, he thought now, of course they were.
For just a second his life is back the way it should be, you're kissing him as if it's pure muscle memory, and perhaps it is because only a moment later you seem to come to your senses and pull away. But you're still looking at him, and your eyes have him just as Enchanted as the first time he saw you. He recognizes a small sparkle in them and promises himself to make it ablaze again.
"Can we talk, please" He is ready to get down on his knees and beg you, because he doesn't know if he can stand being without you anymore. He would drop to the floor and grovel for your forgiveness if that was what it took, but of course, you don't make him. Even before he's always been ready to tear his heart from his chest and give it to you the moment you requested so. He would watch it continue to beat as he ripped it out because by now it was entirely yours anyway, it wouldn't stop as long as you were near, wouldn't dare let you down.
You nod your head to the stairs leading up to the dorms and he walks with you until you're in the dorm, the door shutting behind you. He wants to push you up against the door and trail kisses down your neck like he used to, but he can tell you have something to say, so he sits down on the foot of your bed, trying not to fidget with his hands too much.
"You really hurt me Remus" The way your eyebrows slightly pinch together and the slight pout on your face makes him once again regret every single word he uttered that night. He's trying to think of what to say, how to continue. Because he's gotten this far and he's determined not to mess up again. But what is there to say, what can he say other than the fact that he's sorry, which seems like too much of an understatement for the situation he created.
"I know" is all he can come up with, and it's true, he spent so much time thinking about what he had done and how it had hurt you.
"I don't know if I'm ready to just move on as if nothing happened"
"I know" Remus wants to smack his own head for his response. This was his one chance to make it right and he couldn't even form a coherent thought.
"I'm sorry" is all he can say next, and he wants to smack himself again for the oversimplification. But you look at him as if it's enough, as if you know the weight those words truly hold behind them. He wouldn't be surprised if you could see right into his mind, you've always been able to read him so well.
"Please let me make it up to you, I promise I will" You look at him again, and walk closer to where he is sitting.
"How exactly do you propose to do that?" Your tone has shifted, and he's still nervous, but no longer for the same reason. It's the kind of nervous jitters he still gets when he's close to you, the kind that makes him want to pin you down underneath him and spend eternity looking at you. Except this time he's not sure what to do. He usually knows exactly what you want, has got your body memorised like a map that leads to treasure. But now he needs to tread more lightly, not taking any chance of having read it wrong.
But you walk towards him until you've slotted yourself between his open legs, and he knows it is all going to be okay, because you start to softly move your hands through his hair in a way that makes his head spin, and he grounds himself by pulling you closer, hugging his face to your stomach. He lets himself enjoy it for a few seconds before he remembers the promise he just made.
He starts to leave small kisses going up your torso, and ghosts his fingers over the back of your thighs as you're still standing in front of him. He holds your body closer to his and hears a small moan leave your mouth. And it's only softly, but he hears it, and it’s his sign not to stop.
His hands move with a mind of their own, trailing further up until he reaches under your skirt, finding the soft flesh of your ass and giving it a gentle squeeze before he retracts one of his hands to slap it. And now he’s sure, because the sound that leaves you is no longer hesitant, it's pleading. He grabs onto your legs and flips you over onto the bed behind him, your head hitting the pillow as he hovers over you.
You move to kiss him, and he doesn't dare refuse. It’s different from earlier, more desperate. Not only his but your emotions showing through it, it's harsh, too much teeth, too forceful, but he can't find it in himself to mind. He kisses you back with just as much passion, and while he could spend eternity like this, he had something else in mind for now. So he moves his lips down your neck, and you arch into him immediately, giving him better access to the spot he’s looking for.
“Remus please” he doesn't need to be told twice, not today at least. His hands inch up underneath your shirt, delicately moving it up your body until it reaches your head, and you don’t hesitate to shrug it off and throw it off the bed. He’s enthralled for a moment, the sight before his eyes so familiar yet so captivating.
He makes quick work of his own shirt and moves back to leave open-mouth kisses down your chest as his hands once again travel down. But he doesn't make you wait long, because it’s followed by him moving your underwear to the side, sliding his fingers over your folds, feeling how wet you already are for him. His mouth is still busy on your chest, reacting to the sounds you make as he’s sucking bruises into your skin. With his free hand he tugs down your bra, finally giving him full access to your chest. The moment his mouth grazes over your nipple you moan out his name and he starts circling your clit before inserting two of his fingers into you. Your body immediately remembers the feeling and he can feel you already starting to clench around him, but he’s not about to question it. He’s still using his thumb to trace patterns onto your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of you, searching for the spot he knows will make you see the stars. He curls them once again and from the sounds leaving you he knows he’s found it, relentlessly hitting it as if it's his only goal in life, and right now it is.
It doesn't take much longer until you’re panting and writhing underneath him, and he has to use his free hand to pin your hips down on the mattress. As moans and whispers of his name continue to stream from you he wonders how he ever thought he could make peace with never hearing you say his name again, but he doesn't dwell on it for long as he feels you spasming around his fingers, clenching as if your body is trying to keep him there. He coaxes you through it until your breathing turns back to normal and he pulls his fingers out, hovering back over you as he cleans them off with his mouth, humming at the taste.
You’re starting to come back down from your haze and he can feel your hands travelling over his body before one of them drags over the bulge in his trousers. The friction makes him close his eyes and sighs, dropping his head in the crook of your neck. You’re trying to undo his belt when he snaps back to reality, catching your hands in his own as he stops you.
“What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice makes him want to soothe away any worries you might be carrying, and he’s quick to tell you.
“Nothing’s wrong darling, I’m just not finished apologizing yet.” It’s not that he doesn't want to feel your hands on him, pumping him as he loses his composure, but he’s already painfully hard from making you cum on his fingers, and he wasn't finished.
And so with a final kiss to your lips he shifts back down your body until he's face to face with your pussy. You’re fidgeting underneath him and he uses his hands to lock your legs in place, holding them open so he can do exactly as he wants. He starts by tickling your inner thighs with kisses, enjoying the feeling of your skin against his. Normally he would take his time, get you desperate underneath him, but he’s the desperate one now, so he doesn't waste any more time. His tongue flattens out over your entrance and a whine of his name leaves your mouth, followed by more moans that make him rut into the mattress, seeking for some friction of his own.
He distracts himself by massaging the fat of your thighs, trailing over the stretch marks he adores. You're rutting your hips into his mouth and when your hand finds purchase in his hair, tugging on it as his tongue enters your folds, he no longer tries to hold back. His attack on you is so sweetly malicious, your taste intoxicating hum further than any liquor could, he grinds down and moans into you. The vibrations make your breath hitch and he can feel you getting close again. The soft pleas and whines coming from you are a melody he will orchestrate for as long as he can, his nose bumps against your clit as his tongue is still busy lapping up your juices and it makes you twitch under him.
“That's it darling, cum all over my tongue” He's craving it just as much himself, every shaky breath from you and every time he feels you clench he gets closer to his own high. All he wants to do is get you there so he can let go himself. He doubles his efforts, remembering what you like, listening to your body react, and with his mouth still busy between your legs you suddenly go still, your body motionless except for the small flexes of the muscles in your thighs. He knows better than to stop, coaxing you further until the filthiest of moans come from your mouth, relentlessly thanking him, although he's certain he should be the one thanking you.
He's still chasing your sweet taste as he can feel his cock straining impossibly hard, the tip pulsating as he finds his own release, too caught up in you to even care that he is coming in his trousers, whines leaving his mouth as he still laps up anything you give him. He doesn't stop until you push his head away and he glances up at your face, a thin layer of sweat glistening above your eyebrows. You're radiating pure ecstasy and he can't help but smile at the sight. You silently ask him to come up by tugging the back of his neck towards you and he wouldn't even dream of doing anything other than complying.
“I've missed you Remmy” it's barely there, your voice a whisper in the now quiet room, but it's more than enough for him. He leaves featherlight kisses over your face, from your forehead to your cheekbone and finally finding his final destination on your lips. It's soft, sensual and full of pent up emotions and apologies, but the way in which you settle yourself next to him, cuddling into him with a content sigh as if he's the puzzle piece you fit next to let's him know that despite everything, you'll always find your way back to each other, even in the most desperate of times.
Taglist: @hesperdern, @lexmoon17, @y0urm0m12, @dreamingofmarauders
#remus lupin fluff#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin angst#remus lupin smut#the marauders era#marauders era#marauders#marauders fandom#marauders fanfiction#the marauders#remus lupin#remus lupin x fem!reader#remus lupin x you#remus x you#remus x reader#remus x fem!reader#remus x y/n#remus lupin x y/n#remus angst#remus smut#remus fluff#remus lupin imagine#the marauders smut#marauders smut#marauders fluff#the marauders fluff#marauders angst#the marauders angst#the marauders x you#the marauders x reader
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u know what actually im gonna make one last srs post abt this whole thing and then im doneeeee i swear lmfao, so all of the anons in my inbox can finally shut up and fuck off and i'll put it under a cut so i dont ~ruin your da4 hype~ the way youve fucking ruined mine i guess.
watsonian justification for this: "decisions you made 10+ years ago in another part of the country simply will not affect the current story". hey isnt the entire story behind veilguard that a guy has been working for the last 10 years to rip down the veil. like. is the whole thing not a story that started 10 years ago. do you not have access to the eluvian network now because solas stole it 10 years ago from briala. is the blight not around because of the evanuris in some way. isnt the entire magisterium something that's been in place for thousands and thousands of years. like even within the context of da, the entire story revolves around things that happened thousands of years ago that have shaped the world that our characters exist in today. we, ourselves, as real people, don't live in a world where things happening on one side of the planet do not affect anything else. and that's not even touching on the fact that we have companions from the first game showing up. at the very least decisions that affect them directly should have been factored in????
doylist justification(s) for this: #1 "we only wanted to include worldstate decisions we could develop reactivity to" so the only decisions were.... whether or not solas is romanced? for me, it's the way that when you're playing dai, the entire justification for NOT being able to romance him as anyone other than lavellan is that you can have a deep and important and complex relationship with him even if you dont romance him, the fandom is always going on & on about how important friendship!solas is and how it shouldnt be underrated but the moment his ENTIRE CHARACTER (and ours?!) gets boiled down to whether or not you had a romantic relationship with him, we're going to celebrate it??? really??? REALLY??? what in the fucking amatonormativity is this, and how is this a step BACKWARDS from dai for solas???
#2 "the world was too complicated so they wanted to simplify it for new players" that's literally the problem we're discussing. the problem we're discussing is the complexity of the world, and the solution bioware came up with for it is to simply scrap it all, and surprise surprise! not everyone is happy about it??? you are just describing the problem that the solution fails to address???
i think the most annoying part of this whole thing is the fan response to it. literallyyyy am seeing things like "no one ever complained about the worldstates not mattering in the next games before da4" which is NOT TRUE. ever since i JOINED this fandom, i've heard so many things about people complaining about leliana defaulting back to a hardened state in dai, about alistair's characterisation in dai, about cullen's repeat appearances, about your boons/decisions in dao not carrying forward in the next games. people HAVE been complaining about it, for ages, especially in dai. it is explicitly a problem in dragon age, and has been for a long, long time, and the problem has only grown the more complex the worldstate becomes. that's why they tried to address the problem here by simply scrapping it all. i've also seen things like "well if youre only interested in callback references, this dragon age game not for YOU" which not only minimises and dismisses the issues and feelings at hand here, but also reeks of self-righteous, smug superiority of I Am The Sole Correct Enjoyer. who is this game for, if not for people who love dragon age?
i'm not here for rook's story - i'm here to save the world that i've built with my own two hands over three games. i am doing that through rook as a character, yes, but i have no cause or reason to care about rook at all going into this game except for the basic fact of this is my character that i am playing - rook is a character that i expect playing the game will make me invested in and care about them. but you know what i already cared about before going into veilguard? you know what i've saved three times over already, potentially even at the cost of my own life? thedas. MY thedas. OF COURSE I WANT TO KNOW THAT IT MATTERS. in world, solas himself wants to know what changes his actions wrought. THOUSANDS OF YEARS AFTER THE FACT. why is everyone acting like fans are insane for this????
i, for one, have not complained about the game "ruining" origins or da2 or even dai. i was excited about the changes, because changes were evidently necessary. i have been fully prepared for the differences, even if i've been apprehensive or cautious about it. do you think i'm disappointed now because i hate dragon age??? where do you fucking get off saying this game is not meant for me? because i dont agree with how bioware has chosen to resolve this issue, suddenly these games are Not For Me anymore?
and you know what, i already know they're not for me. the way this series, and this fandom, treats people of colour, and characters of colour, i am made aware every single day that dragon age is not for me. these games are for the liberal white girlies and white queers living in the west. i know damn well these games have never been for me, and any insistence that it should consider me will be met with vitriol and viciousness. and guess what? i am still here.
i was sooo ready to let this go until the fandom just kept acting like ppl are idiots for being unhappy about things AT ALL in da4. its so fucking annoying to me. i'm NOT going to complain about every single little thing in da4 possible, but i'm also not going to act like bioware is going to do and is doing everything right. what is WITH this fandom and extremes of thought and behaviour. is it because you're all american??? like. i'm actually so sorry that you live in a black-and-white world with no complexities or nuances because it must be so boring and sad.
in my opinion, i would not have minded slimming down the narrative choices to a select few that they could really hone in and focus on. i feel like the dragon age keep decisions can be a bit arbitrary, and i would've loved to see like 5-6 key decisions per game, ORRRR even for your worldstate to boil down to something like whether or not you generally supported positive change or upheld the status quo per game, and then specific character decisions regarding the inquisitor to be brought in, since they're the pc that actually shows up. i do think there's likely a lot of chaff that can be cut off or simplified as a sort of "lost to the times" kind of narrative telling. but boiling down these games to three fucking choices that are ultimately just 'did u romance and like solas or nah' is fucking INSANE. why is the answer to the issue of the quantum - which has been an issue for a long time!!!!!! - to just... scrap it entirely???
edit: adding this here since i said i wouldnt make any more posts abt this topic but i rly find it laughableeeee when fans eagerly parrot bioware insisting that just because those choices dont matter in THIS game doesnt mean they'll never matter in a FUTURE game (i guess we can expect the next one in 2034?). if they already scrapped those choices for this game, and you're all still buying it (some of you??? PREORDERED it???? i thought we agreed not to do that???), why would they bother. do you think the next dragon age game wont have the same line of logic for 'we need to make it accessible for new players!!!!!' that they had for this one and for dai? how willfully stupid are you that you think I'M the stupid one here?
im happy for you guys tho! i hope the new dragon age game where theyve removed all of those complexities instead of making ANY effort to address ANY of the existing dissatisfaction around feeling like any of your game decisions mattered supports your existing brainrot so you can continue believing in a black-and-white reality. really glad theyve simplified it for you guys just like you wanted into 3 choices all about sola/vellan.
i'm going back to my own sandbox, as epler has instructed me to, so i can ~imagine~ my own thedas lmfao
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~ As Sweet As Sugar | JJK
Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, the in-laws (again), talks of marriage, mentions of divorce, business talks, mentions of large inheritance, love confessions, sweet Kook, enamoured Kook, this is a pretty soft chapter tbh, Jimin and Namjoon feature in a scene (we love these two), implied smut at the end, OC is wiped by JK, (let me know if I missed anything!)
Summary: Jungkook makes a decision that would change his life forever but he can't regret it when he know he'll have you in the end. Promises are made, love gets sealed, because a caramel isn't always as sour as it seems.
Word Count: 4k
A/N: Hello, darlings! Welcome to the final chapter of "Sweet Marriage"! I hope you are excited to see how (y/n) and Jungkook will solve their marital issues O.O
Drabbles for this AU! are open, sweet ones! My inbox is open to all of you who'd like to request a continuation or would like to see in-betweens of this story. Now, without further adieu, happy reading, darlings!
☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕
What kind of caramel has a sour exterior yet a sweet centre? Is it worth the experience?
You sat in the passenger's seat while Jungkook drove to his parent's house. You were tense, he could sense it as well. From the begining you had tried to get along with your in-laws, something he thought was going pretty smoothly to be honest until Jungkook's mother crossed the line.
A silent gasp left your lips when Jungkook's hand rested atop your own. You looked at him only to marvel in his side profile.
"You are tense."
Your gaze lowered at his acknowledgement, you didn't want to speak just how much it bothered you had to go to his parent's residence in fear of making him angry or worse, to see you in a bad light you certainly weren't in.
His hand squeezed yours and you looked up at him only to meet his dark eyes for a second before his gaze returned to the front.
"I promise this is the last time we are going to my parent's house. I just need to sign some documents."
You leaned back on your seat, your eyes focused on the road as you let your mind wander around what had happened five days ago. You felt stupid to some point for doing Mrs. Jeon's will without consulting your husband. Not that you needed some kind of permission from him to do anything you pleased but more so as to include him in a decision that was going to affect the both of you as a married couple.
"I know, Kook."
You replied back in a soft voice, mind already lost in memories from that day and the following day you had lived next to your husband. The next morning after you told him your secret, Jungkook wasn't by your side and you felt how the world fell over you.
Fear took hold of you that moment, you could still remember how scared your had been when he wasn't in the bed, his side was also cold to the touch. You remember standing up in a rush, nearly tripping down with the sheets tangled in your body before you bolted out of the bedroom.
Jungkook was in the living room, his eyes lost in the horizon as the sun was painting the sky in beautiful hues of orange, pink and blue. He turned to look at you, his heart trembling at the distress drowning your (e/c) pools before he stood up and was quick to approach you.
You were in his arms the next second. Your face buried in his chest as you blinked back tears you didn't know had gathered in your waterline. Jungkook didn't say anything, he simply held you tighter when he felt you relax in his hold.
"You weren't in bed."
You said, matter-of-factly and he sighed, resting his chin at the top of your head.
"I woke up early, I didn't get much sleep."
You took a deep breath, inhaling in his scent, taking in his presence.
"I thought you had left."
The sound of your voice so fragile pulled at his heartstrings that a lump began forming in his throat. He pulled back only for one of his hands to cradle your cheek in his large palm while his eyes gazed into your own with countless emotions.
"Never. I could never leave your side."
You blinked and the memory dissipated from your mind like fog when the sun came out. You sighed, silently playing with Jungkook's fingers that were still in your hold, completely unaware of his soft smile upon your gentle touch.
"We are here."
His deep voice snapped you out of your little paradise where only you and your husband existed. He turned to look at you with gentle eyes that nearly melted you in your place. He smiled as if to comfort you; which it did.
"This won't take long, I promise."
You nodded before his hand left your own as he exited the car, making a sudden coldness invaded your body. You couldn't fully describe it but it felt as if your heart was enveloped around ice when you weren't near Jungkook, however the slightest touch or simple glance from him were enough to set you aflame.
He opened the door for you and you stepped out of the vehicle. His hand found home in between your fingers as he led you silently toward the front door.
"Young master, welcome."
Spoke the maid at the entrance. She bowed at Jungkook and you with stiff movements that made you take a deep breath. This is it. You thought to yourself as Jungkook gave the maid a simple nod before asking in his professional voice. He was here to deal business, nothing more, nothing less.
"Is my father in his study?"
"Yes, young master. He's waiting for you. Mrs. Jeon, would you like me to take your coat?"
You turned to look at the elegant maid with kind eyes yet your voice came firm as you spoke your next words.
"It's alright. We won't be here long anyway, but thank you."
The maid bowed down to both of you as Jungkook led you through the house and up the large staircase toward his father's study. His steps were determined, strong and confident. You followed next to him, your hand still clasped in his.
Jungkook had you as his equal in this situation were his future was on the line while you had him as support to the thorns that wanted to hurt your marriage with your sweet husband whom you loved so very much you feared your heart would explode with the amount of love you held for the man walking next to you.
The double doors were opened by two maids and you and Jungkook entered your father-in-law's studio hand in hand. Tension immediately rose in the room. You practically could cut it with a knife. Mr. Jeon stood up from his chair, a shiver ran down your spine but if it was due to the chilly room or the coldness of his eyes, you couldn't exactly tell.
"Welcome. This will be short, I only need you, Jungkook, to sign some papers and then this scandalous situation will be over."
You felt Jungkook's hand tighten around yours, his father's words spurring emotions in his heart he rather kept hidden. You squeezed his hand back in silent reassurance which made him physically relax a bit yet not completely.
"Where do I sign?"
Asked your husband in a detached voice. He was here for an entirely business deal. No emotion was carried by his voice and the tension rose once more in the room, like icicles trying to break the peace that surrounded your marriage with Jungkook.
Mr. Jeon sighed before his eyes lowered, his hands opened a file only for then to turn it upside down so that Jungkook was able to read it properly, he put an expensive black pen next to it and the coldness once more invaded the place.
Your husband let go of your hand as he walked toward the mahogany desk. His steps were large and precise, without hesitation. You found yourself admiring the control he had over his emotions, of his actions. Of how people viewed him. Even when he was in the presence of his own parents.
How sad it must have been for him to wear that mask required by society in front of his parents as well. It must have been tiring. The thought crossed your head before you could stop however, you came to notice how relaxed he was in his home with you. How domestic he appeared in your eyes. Then again, who said you weren't also wearing such a disguise?
You made eye contact with your father-in-law as the shuffling of paper echoed around the walls. You could read in his dark eyes the challenge he carried within him, the arrogance. The slight disappointment he had in Jungkook when he didn't divorce you. The frustration cursing through his veins was obvious to your eyes that only held love and support toward the man who had married you.
"So, according to this, I will no longer be the heir of the company?"
His father nodded, his hands clasped in front of him before he spoke in a monotonous tone.
"Yes, Jeon Enterprises will pass to your Cousin Marlene, I believe she is now in the States. She's already been notified of this."
Silence stretched in the room once more as your eyes focused on your husband. Your heart thumped in your chest ever so quickly you were scared the two men in the study could hear its frantic beating.
"You'll keep your current position but you'll work for us. Are you sure you want to do this, Jungkook?"
But your husband paid him no mind. He wasn't going to be controlled like a puppet. Not anymore. Not when his future, you, were on the line. Never. Jungkook signed the documents, the scraping of the pen over the paper reached your ears and your heart fluttered at his actions.
Jungkook put the pen aside and straightened back to his full height. His eyes pierced those of his father with no emotion at all.
"If that is all then we'll be on our way. My wife and I already have plans."
The older man let out a deep sigh, looking at his son with melancholy or disappointment, you really couldn't tell. Butterflies flew in your stomach when Jungkook called you like that. "My wife." His. You were his just as he was yours. Tangled with the ribbon of fate and tied with a knot of love.
"I'll let you know if there's anything more but for now, that is all."
Jungkook nodded, turning around and when his back was towards his father, he offered you a soft smile. Kind in its nature. Happy in its existence. You smiled back as he walked to you and his hand found home around yours.
"Let's go."
And with that, he led you outside of the study and through the hallway. Mr. Jeon was left in his expensive and luxurious study, pondering if what he had done had been the right decision. It wasn't his fault Jungkook had fallen in love with you and it wasn't your fault that you were sterile. Was it really worth it to discard the company from his son's rightful heritage only for a drama his wife made?
But there was no turning back. There was nothing to be done if he were to feel guilty about his choice. Because as the owner of Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook's father had in him the power to leave the company to whoever he pleased. Was it really worth it?
"Jungkook."
Mrs. Jeon spoke as she stood next to the large staircase. Her piercing eyes went from Jungkook to you and back to him. You squeezed your husband's hand in reassurance. You were next to him, just like every future time he'll have to face anything, you'll stand next to him as his wife.
"Mother."
You felt how the tension rose once more between mother and son and you straightened your back before saying in a steady voice.
"If you'll excuse us, Mrs. Jeon, there's an appointment we need to attend to. I hope we'll meet again under better circumstances."
She eyes you up and down and you feel how she scrutinised you with her gaze alone. But you weren't going to back down. You had your husband next to you and he had you as well. You sent her a polite smile and she nodded in a stiff manner before you turned to the staircase and pulled on your joined hands with Jungkook before he followed you down the marble stairs with his mother's eyes piercing the top of your head as if she could burn you with her anger cursing through her veins.
"You will regret this, Jungkook! You'll regret it for the rest of your life!"
But her words fell on deaf ears. Jungkook didn't need their fame, he didn't need their support anymore and there was no point in keeping a relationship with the people who brought him to this world if it was going to be so toxic he felt like he couldn't breathe anymore.
He had you know. Your presence, your existence was like a new and fresh breeze on a spring day. You brought him hope, you gave him your heart and with it, your love. Your trust. Your life was in his hands. Just as he had given you his heart ever so willingly; without an ounce of hesitation in his actions, in his words, in his thoughts about you. His lover. His wife. His (y/n).
You stood in the lift as it went up to your shared apartment. Your hand was held in Jungkook's larger palm as his thumb ran delicate circles over your knuckles.
You still were surprised at how easily he had given up on his inheritance because of you. Because he loved you. Because he wanted you. He cherished you and gave you your place as his wife. You didn't doubt you would have done the same had you been in his shoes.
The feeling of your heart thumping against your chest for the man you had married made you smile softly. At him. At his love. At what had been built between you both where nothing existed, not a castle stood. A castle of love.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Jungkook's hand squeezed yours in an involuntary way but it made your cheeks heat as butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The both of you walked out of the lift hand in hand and down the large corridor that led to your shared apartment.
When you two rounded a corner, you had to suppress a gasp as you nearly collided with two other men who were walking at a fast pace from the other end of the corridor. You recognised them vaguely, as if you had seen them before but couldn't quite place where. Unbeknownst to you, Jungkook tensed ever so slightly at the sight of his friends and coworkers.
"Jimin, Namjoon. What are you both doing here?"
Now you knew where you had seen them. Both Jimin and Namjoon had attended the small wedding ceremony between you and Jungkook nearly a year ago.
"I... well, you see-"
"We visited a friend, Kook. I'm glad to see you, you haven't been at the company for some time now."
The shorter one spoke. Jimin, you remembered his name was Jimin. The man had a pleasing smile over his plump lips and you also noticed he had recently dyed his hair a sandy shade of blond that suited him perfectly.
Jungkook nodded, eyes going from Namjoon to Jimin and then back again.
"How are you, Mrs. Jeon? We haven't seen you since forever."
Spoke Namjoon and you smiled. Reminiscing how you both had shared talks about different books and art, you being a writer yourself he valued your opinion greatly.
"I've been fine, Namjoon. Thanks for asking, I hope everything's going well at the company?"
Your question made them nod and Jungkook bit his lip, this interaction was lasting more than it should have. To begin with, it shouldn't have occurred in the first place. This could totally ruin Jungkook's plans to spend the evening with you.
"Oh, yes. Please don't worry about that but do tell Jungkook here to stop pestering us about the monthly reports already! We have a big loan already!"
You couldn't help but laugh at Jimin's comment, the sound resonating across the walls. Jungkook sighed loudly, visibly irritated by his friends who teased him in front of you.
"Yeah well, keep going like this and there'll be no salary increase for you both."
Jungkook began walking once more, tugging on your joined hands as you laughed out loud at the scared face Namjoon made and the eye roll from Jimin.
"See you guys around!"
You were able to say that before Jungkook dragged you into the apartment and closed the door behind him leaving Jimin and Namjoon standing in the middle of the corridor.
"Do you think he'll do it?"
Asked the taller man as they both began walking down the hall and towards the lifts. His hands shoved into his trouser pockets and a relaxed expression over his face.
"He better do it."
Jimin pressed the button to go to the ground floor, a hand running over his hair as he frowned slightly.
"He better do it, hyung, or I swear I'll kill him."
Namjoon laughed and the elevator's doors closed. Leaving behind nothing but silence in the empty hallway.
Jungkook had taken your coat from you before he had disappeared into the kitchen saying he was thirsty. You sighed in content as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on the entrance table before you walked away from the door wearing your comfortable slippers.
"Kook?"
You asked, but he wasn't in the kitchen and you frowned at his absence. Silence engulfed the flat and you walked to the living room and the dining room but he wasn't there.
"He couldn't have just disappeared into thin air, now can he?!
You muttered to yourself as your feet carried you to your shared bedroom. The door was slightly ajar so you pushed it with your palm and gasped at what you saw inside.
"I thought it would take you longer to come here."
Jungkook said and you stepped forward, eyes roaming around the bedroom. The curtains were pulled to the sides, the mesmerising sunset painting the sky tinted the room in a soft orange hue it warmed your heart instantly.
There were red rose petals on the ground, and the bed was dressed in black sheets with white petals on it. Transparent balloons filled the ceiling as they floated up and you couldn't help the smile that graced your lips.
"Kook, what's this?"
He walked over to you, standing at arm's length as his eyes lost themselves in your own. His heart was beating wildly in his chest; he feared you could hear it. His hands were behind his back as he looked down at you.
"Jimin and Namjoon took longer than anticipated."
You laughed, so that was why Namjoon seemed so nervous at the beginning. The sound of your laughter made butterflies swirl in his stomach, the sight of you, bathed in the golden light of the sun, smiling up at him was enough to send him to heaven.
"(y/n),"
How delicious it was to hear your name coming out of his lips. You looked at him with a soft gaze he thought he'd melt right then and there.
"my beautiful wife."
You blushed at the compliment, breaking eye contact as you looked down in a futile attempt at hiding your flustered state. He chuckled, finding the situation so beautiful in its own existence. Wishing he could frame this precise moment and look at it forever.
His hands untangled themselves from behind his back, one was shoved into his trouser pocket while the other lifted your chin with the tips of his fingers. The moment your eyes met his once more, you felt like melting against him. It was perfect.
"I love you so much, sweet one. So, so much."
You swallowed, feeling his words through your heart as it skipped a beat.
"I love you as well, Jungkook. With all my heart."
He smiled. the bunny smile you loved so much. That smile that was the source of your happiness. That smile that was only his.
"We have faced so many things together."
His hand moved and cradled your cheek, the touch burning you while freezing you in your spot at the same time. You wanted him. In every sense of the word. He did things to you that you had never felt before. He made you feel loved like no-one else had done, he made you feel cherished, wanted, needed. And you could only hope he felt the same way. Because you loved him, you cherished him, you wanted him and needed him just as much.
"I wish we had met under different circumstances but that doesn't mean I am not grateful for what he has grown to be as a couple."
Your hand came up and covered the once that cradled your cheek, your hand over his sending tingles all over his arm and to his body he felt fuzzy, happy to just be with you. To just have you in this moment, exactly like this.
"I have grown to care for you like I have never cared for another woman in my life, (y/n). You are everything to me. Everything, sweetheart. I cannot imagine my life without you."
Your eyes began to water at the sweet words dripping from his lips. Coated in sugar, meant to wash away the sour taste left behind by life itself.
He sighed and took a step back, his hand left your cheek and you instantly felt cold at the loss of his touch. Jungkook looked at you with soft brown and big eyes before he knelt down on one knee. His right hand picked up a small box from his trouser's pocket and you nearly gasped when he opened it.
"We are already married and the promises I made to you on our wedding day are still fresh on my mind. I will fulfil them as my duty to you as a husband but this ring, love, this ring is a promise to you as your lover."
You bit your bottom lip, trying to stop it from trembling as a little tear rolled down your cheek at his words.
"I promise to love you until my last breath. I promise to cherish you as my wife. You will never need anything, your desires are my commands, (y/n). You rule my heart like a Queen rules her kingdom. Now, I ask you with all the sincerity in this world: will you love me as well?"
A sob escaped your lips before your hands went up to cover your mouth. You nodded fiercely as you tried to wipe your tears away. He smiled, standing up and taking the ring out of the small velvety box. His larger hand took your left one and he slid the ring on top of your wedding band. A seal to his love. The two rings even matched.
"Yes. A million times yes. I love you, Jungkook. I love you with all I have in me, with everything. Forever."
The next moment, his lips were on yours. Your hands rested on his shoulders as he cradled your face, his lips dancing with yours in the steps of love.
The kiss was sweet. As sweet as sugar. You poured all the love, all the longing, all the desire into that kiss while Jungkook let his emotions flow into that single act of love. He allowed you to feel how his heart beat for you, how his mind wouldn't stop thinking about you and how his hand itched to touch you.
Your hands ran to the back of his neck before they were running through his dark locks. A soft groan escaped his throat when you tugged on his hair slightly. You moaned as his hands slid down your cheek and towards your waist, pressing you against him.
Passion bloomed in that moment. Starting with a sweet kiss and ending with the promise of eternal love.
Jungkook guided you to the bed, the back of your knees hit the bed and he pushed you down on the mattress gently, hovering over you without breaking the kiss.
Perhaps sour caramels do have sweet centres after all.
As sweet as sugar. As sweet as love. As sweet as life.
Combined into a sweet marriage of eternal devotion and beautiful love.
~Masterpost
March/03/2024
☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕
Drabbles are open for this AU!
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