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hauntedfictionland · 2 months ago

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❝His dear princess❞

☾︎✰❛❀ Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem! Reader!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Jacaerys did not want you, or the vow he was bound to for life. Yet when he makes a big mistake, and potentially loses you for good. He realises just how much you meant to him.

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬/𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bastardphobia, mentions of death and grief, kissing, marrage of convenience and grumpy X sunshine trope, Jace is down bad, flirty!reader, guilt and anxiety and happy ending;)

🪐𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: This is one of my first house of the dragon fics ever, so I truly hope it's not too bad. Jacaerys is one of my favourite characters in hotd after Alicent so I really wanted to get his characteristics and behaviour right. Also, I didn't like the way they showed his grief after Luke died, as if he just moved on after two or three days. But overall, I enjoyed writing this:)

Jacaerys was infuriated with you.

You—his betrothed, acted like you owned the castle as soon as you strutted in. Speaking with no formality and a sharpness in your tongue that only infuriated him further. And especially when you did not seem to care for his heritage, who he was. The heir to the iron throne. Yet you acted as if he didn't exist to you. As if he meant nothing to you.

A marriage pact with the martells was only one of convenience. You, a princess of dorne, he, the firstborn son of queen Rhaenyra. Yet, they were stuck in dragonstone, and needed support to match the strength of the green armies. His mother needed this arrangement more than the martells did, and you made that very clear by acting carelessly and so freely, like you were in your own home. By taunting him, sitting at the great council table with your legs on them, a coin in your fingertips and a smirk in your lips. He hated it, he hated especially how good you looked.

He hated being betrothed to you already.

Rhaenyra had told him martells were rather, open and modern people. They took part in adultery even after being married, especially with the consent of their own partner. He did not know how anyone could be okay with such acts. He did not know what to expect when he met you, but it certainly wasn't how you commented on his face, calling him one of a beauty. It was inappropriate, calling a prince by such bold remarks on the first meeting, yet you did not seem to care.

But what edged him to his limit was the day you called him a bastard.

Jacaerys had been worried, he couldn't find you anywhere. Not that he cared, he was just stressed you would create another ruckus. He looked around everywhere, the garden, the great council, the dining hall, your room, even his room, but you were nowhere to be found. His chest tightened, a restlessness growing in his stomach. It seemed he always felt that way without being with you for too long. Not because he missed you—of course, but because he wanted to ensure everything was going smoothly.

He was going around circles, head spinning with a feeling that made him uncomfortable. Where were you? did you flee the castle? or were so bored of him you went to the city to a brothel in search of another man to keep you company. Anger and jealousy filled in his chest at the mere thought of that.

Jacaerys did not seem where he was going, many thoughts inside his head, before he harshly opened a door to the library. And to his surprise, there you were, a book in your hand. ‘Adventures of Aegon the conqueror’, he could read the name of the book by how you were holding it. He felt he could breathe again. By the loud sound of the door opening your head flitted towards him. Your usual smirk growing up your lips. Something that made his heart flutter in a way he didn't want it to. He clenched his jaw, holding his fists in a tight ball.

“Where have you been?” he asks, desperate tone in his voice.

“Ah, Prince Jacaerys.” you smile, closing the book and turning your attention towards him. He hated how your eye lashes fluttered, your hair falling down in just the perfect way. “I've been gaining some Targaryen knowledge, as you can see. Since we are to be married, I thought I should know my husband's family. Don't you think?”

Husband.

That word rose heat to his cheeks, quickly clearing his throat.

“I'm not your husband.” he spoke, in a tone harsher than he intended, “At least not yet anyway.”

You smile wider, making his heart race. He was always a bit stubborn, and uptight. Yet you were always so carefree and light, always so kind with his demise. He didn't know what to make of it all. A curious look grazed upon your face, eyebrows furrowing. You sat up, walking onwards another shelf of books, lips pursued. Before looking at him.

“I have always wondered, hmm,” you say, your finger coming up to your lips, “do tell me prince Jacaerys, is it true that you were born out of wedlock?”

His eyes widened, “What did you say to me?”

You either did not notice the offend and defensiveness in his tone, or simply pretend not to. Turning to look at him, “I mean, all Targaryen children have white hair. Do they not? Even if they did not, none of your formal parents have black, dark hair like yours.”

His breath hitches, all of the insecurities he had contained in a jar of fireflies fled out the second you brought out his hair. A wall rising inside him. You were acting as if you just did not ask the most dangerous question ever. As if it did not matter to you.

“How dare you insinuate such filthy claims?!” his voice rises, almost shouting. Your eyes flicker surprise for a moment, before turning back to the usual stoic look.

“Ah, you are offended.” you state, as if he shouldn't be, “I meant no harm, my prince. I have no problem with you being a bastard. In fact, it only makes you more interesting. The thing I don't like is your distaste for the truth. One should own up to who they are.”

Bastard.

You, called him a bastard. He isn't able to speak for a moment, too tongue—tied. You....think of him this way too? you? he can't hear as you speak further, a ringing in his head. It only intensifies. Only when you start talking about dorne is when he snaps back from his haze.

“And I have thousands of brothers and sisters back in dorne, no one cares ther—”

“I don't care, what you dornish do back there, but here you don't speak to me with filths of a claim.” he grits, his voice cold, “I am the queen's son. And if I hear you say one word about that again, I will see you hanged.” his words held so much malice in them, one would believe it to be true.

Of course, he could never actually do that, the blacks needed martells armies more than ever. His mother couldn't afford them raging war at her and joining the green's side. And, he could never harm you either. It was just a baseless threat, one he said out of anger and insecurity. He immediately regretted it when he saw the look on your face; hurt. But even worse, fear. Before he could even begin to take them back, it was too late. Your spot, where you stood, was already empty.

You had seen him less and less after that. Of course, you were your usual self. Taunting and teasing him, but something was off. Something distant. He hated it. He hated how much he missed it. Your remarks, your witty replies, your cockiness. He wanted it back. He wanted you back.

Next time he sees you, it's in a completely unexpected place. Dragon—pit. He was about to ride on Vermax to patrol the skies, when he stops. There you were, sat on the hard rock, legs swinging at the edge of it and his dragon's head in your hands. You..you were feeding him. “What the hell do you think you're doing?!” he shouts, eye wide.

You turn your head to him, a smirk on your lips grows. You enjoyed the fact he was on his nerves, furious.

“What does it look like? I'm feeding this cute little angel right here.” you coo, talking to his dragon in a baby voice. Vermax was known for her temper, yet with you it magically dis—appears? a little bit inside him was flustered, heart beating faster than ever that you and his dragon, a very important part of his life, bonded flawlessly. But he shrugs it off, he has to. Flushing over you isn't his duty.

Protecting you is.

As much as he would like to deny it, you're his now. Lawfully so. And he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Especially Vermax. He wouldn't know how to live with himself if his own dragon were to be the cause of, of.. your demise. His throat burns, even the mere thought of harm coming to you feels as if he's being drowned to death. After Luke, he cannot lose anyone. Jacaerys cannot lose you. Even if that was the first thing he tried to do after meeting you. You were the most part of his frustrations yet the only thought when he's in his bed at night.

“Have you lost your mind?” he asks, his voice harsh, as if you were his child and he was scolding you for doing something childish.

“Have you had no fear? you could have died what were you even thinking?!” you falter for a moment, upon seeing the trembling of his hands and the tightness in his voice.

“Jacaerys—”

“No!” he interrupts you, “You, you could have been...do you even realise..”

Your eyes widened as he struggled to even breath, huffing for air anxiously. You quickly get up, walking towards him. He's so much inside his head that he doesn't notice your hands coming up his face, slinging through his dark curly hair. An act that slowed and claimed his beating heart down. Your soft palms make contact with both his cheeks, a peaceful shush in your voice and he finally breathes. Properly. He sighed, eyes closing as his hands came up to hold yours.

This, you, him? this felt oddly peaceful. This felt like home. Vermax watches the whole interaction with a quiet huff, turning away back to the pits. You nudge closer towards him, resting your forehead against his. Love. This felt like love. “Promise me” he starts out, his voice low and timid, “promise you will never do that again.” Instead of putting on a fight like you usually do, you nod, gently caressing his cheek. His head leaned further into your touch, putty in your hands.

“I promise.”

That, gives him great relief. “Good.”

Time seems to slow down, Jacaerys could count every freckle on your nose to cheeks, every small cut in between your knuckles or lips, every curve of smile you put on. And all the scents coming from your body that drove him crazy. You notice his lips still trembling, and above your judgement, you decide to kiss it better. He inhales a sharp breath as your lips touch his, but makes no movement to push you away. It's gentle, barely brushing against his. Jacaerys realised how they fit perfectly amidst his, and how much he was craving it all these months until he finally tasted them.

You slowly pull away, hesitantly. His eyes are still closed. Hands crawling up your waist. He speaks again, a whisper almost.

“I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you.”

He's talking about the library, and you smiled softly, shaking your head.

“It's okay. You can't get rid of me that easily, Jace. Should have known that when you got betrothed to a dornish princess.”

You had already forgiven him. But he didn't want you to. He didn't want to be at your mercy this easily, not when he wasn't able to forgive himself. You, you had crept your way into his heart when he didn't want you to, and now he never wanted to let you go. It was all your fault.

“No I...” he shakes his head, “I never should have said that. Not only because it was so wrong but also because it was completely untrue.” Jacaerys swallows his breath, every bit of him wanted to turn away and never look back, but he couldn't do that. “I have been called names, about my heritage. Ever since I was a child. About my parenting and what not. And it's very...when anyone talks about it, it's like a bandage ripping off a new and fresh wound. No matter how many years pass by, it's still like that for me.”

You nod your head slowly, in understanding. This was raw. He had finally told you one of his darkest parts, his worst fears, and you hadn't run away.

“I understand. I should have never said that. I did not know it was like this for you.” He feels relief in your words.

But there was still something he needed to let out.

“But I...” he didn't know how hard this was for him until he started to actually say it, “I really could never mean it. What I said. Even if you have committed the worst treason or crime, even if you had taken my heart and carved it out, I still wouldn't be able to do one thing that might be even close to harming you. Believe me I have tried. And I have failed.”

He looks away from you, cheeks closing red. Jacaerys had just poured his heart out and gave it to you. But the chances of you, and feeling the same? were very dim. He sees stars when he sees you, what do you see? just him? or even worse? a filth in the name of a true born prince. A gasp leaves his lips as your fingers trace the outlines of his jaw, trailing down to his neck to his chest. You stopped at the red and black three dragons symbol made on the polish cloth he wore.

“Why do you think I agreed to this marriage? not because of this.” you point to the very symbol engraved on his chest, of the house targaryen, “If it was just for this, I certainly would have never.”

He turns his head back to you, confusion in his face. He also feels a bit of guilt in him. At first, he only agreed to this pact because his mother had no choice. Because of your house. Nothing else. And you're saying that his house didn't even matter to you when you agreed to this betrothal? then why? you did not even know what he looked like, and you simply agreed?

“Why then?”

That's the question that's now left in him. Why, if his house and title didn't matter?

“Well,” your lips curl up, a glint in your eyes, as a blush arose your cheeks, “From years I had heard stories of Targaryen princes. How arrogant and unkind they were, your cousins, Aegon and Aemond, well I certainly didn't hear anything good about them. And then you came. The velaryon prince, the son of the realm's delight, born with a kind heart and a fierceness to protect. I knew I had to marry someday, but I only agreed to marry you because I knew—you wouldn't mistreat me. Because I fell in love with the stories of the dark haired prince who had the most beautiful brown eyes ever, who protected his brother when he was a child himself, who stole my heart before he even claimed it.”

Jacaerys doesn't know what to say, his throat falls dry. It doesn't feel real, when he's wanted something so dearly and someone just gives it to him freely; it does not feel real. You do not feel real. But you are. He knows you are when your hands tug at his collar, his face close to you as you pull him towards you and your breath fanning on his cheeks. He knows this is real, and it's better than any dream he's ever had.

“I do not want our marriage to be an unhappy one.”

You say, a plea in your voice.

He smiles, wide. And he doesn't even have to make an effort this time, “For me, the words unhappy and you? well they don't go in the same sentence.”

That seals it for you, he can see that. As you kiss his words, an unspoken understanding and passion in it. Jacaerys realises he could get used to this. Kisses, hugs, reading each other books, waking by the warmth of your body besides his; in fact, there's no one else he'd rather do it by. And nothing he would want more.

𝐸𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑦𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑡, 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑚:) 𝐼 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑔𝑔𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑎𝑠 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡𝑖𝑣𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛! 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑞𝑢𝑒𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑠𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑓𝑒𝑒𝑙 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛𝑒.

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connorsui · 3 months ago

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Sylus x reader - imagine

"A Month Without You"

You lay beside him, tracing the veins on his arm, feeling the gentle pulse beneath your finger tips as you hit his wrist.

"One ...two... three," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sylus shifted sliently, his red eyes watching you with mild curiosity. "What are you doing?" He asked, voice deep and smooth, like a dark melody.

"Shh! Stay still," you replied. Barely glancing up at him. "One...Two...three" you traced further down his arm, eyes focused on the way the veins looked under your touch.

A soft chuckle rumbled from his chest. "Sweetheart," He began, amusement dancing in his voice. "When you said you wanted to spend time with me, this isn't exactly what I had in mind."

You smirked but didn't stop tracing. "Oh, calling you to come to bed with me half naked with the blinds closed and the room dark and Netflix being on the tv is supposed to say something?"

Sylus laughed, the sound low and rich, causing a flutter in your chest. "Cmon, don't do this to me... you know I've been gone too long. Being without you has caused me to lose myself every night"

You bluffed. Rolling your eyes playfully. "I doubt it. I bet you liked being without me for awhile---some alone time to yourself, hmm?"

He sighted dramatically, catching your hand and holding it still. "Every night ..when I was stuck inside that colorless room filled with nothing but luxury, chandeliers and a colder bed …I swore to myself ..is this what hell feels like?"

You let out a soft laugh, leaning in closer to your head against his chest. "Yeah, well..." You murmured, your voice softening. "I'm glad you're back, I missed you after all"

He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you against him until you were pressed firmly against his chest. "Being without you for a month is something I do not want to do again" l. His voice was quiet now, a rare softness in his tone as he pulled you fully to him. His hands resting on your back. "But I'll admit," he continued. "Those videos you sent me late at night? They were the highlight of my day"

Your face flushed at the countless memories; you lifted your head to look at him in disbelief. "Don't tell me you saved those!?"

His smirk widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Don't worry darling ..I didn't" he teased, his fingers brushing along your back in lazy circles. "But I couldn't help myself ...I watched them over and over again. Just to imagine you losing yourself to my fingers instead"

"Sylus!" You gasped. Your face heating up even more. Before you could protest, he pulled you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. His grin only deepened as he gazed upon you, his hands resting firmly on your hips.

"Now," he said. Voice dripping to a low, dark whisper. "I want to recreate every last video you sent me." He reached up, his fingers brushing lightly against the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "So, first thing first, can you turn around for me?"

#suiwrites🍒#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus x mc #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads x you #lads x y/n #lads x mc #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #love and deepspace x mc #love and deepspace x you #love and deepspace x reader

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kiss-inthekitchen · 10 months ago

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pairing: spencer reid x reader

set sometime in early s2; you get stuck sharing a room with your favorite boy genius who absolutely cannot know that you have feelings for him. and also, there’s only one bed. fluff, f!reader (i think there's only two usages of gender markers)

word count: 4.7k

notes: this is a rework of a very old fic i used to have up on ao3. i'm thinking i'll do more of these, i've got a few spencer fics in the vault and it was fun to rework this and see how my style has changed :)

You shivered against the cold desert air. Twirling a keyring around your finger, you headed for the door marked 3. You were exhausted from the day and so, so ready to collapse into bed as soon as you got inside your room.

You turned the key in the lock while Spencer waited behind you. It was late, and you and the team had pulled into a motel for the night, having been dragged out to a tiny rural town by the unsub after days of tracking him through surrounding areas. He’d been apprehended, finally, and handed over to local police around midnight. You all had decided it best to spend the night before driving back into town in the morning for take off.

So here you were, at one of those single story motels that still used actual keys instead of key cards. Given the time of night, you knew vacancies would be scarce, so you’d already expected to have to double up on rooms. Gideon had stayed behind at Quantico, leaving Hotch and Morgan in one room and JJ and Prentiss in another, with you and Spencer sharing the last room. You’d hung back while JJ got everything figured out with the concierge (who was just a bored looking kid posted at the desk), and then she’d passed you your key with its little keyring attachment listing the room number and you all bade each other goodnight.

You’d been on the team nearly a year already, but you were still the rookie compared to everyone else. Even Spence had two years on you. But seeing as you two were the youngest, and the least inclined toward the more physical parts of your job– the chasing, tackling, firing your weapon parts– you were paired off with him more often than not.

You weren’t complaining. You’d come to know Spencer pretty well, and you didn’t feel much apprehension at the thought of sharing a room with him for one night.

That is, until you opened the door.

“Oh,” you said involuntarily.

"There's only one bed,” Spencer said.

“Sure looks that way.”

"At least it's a queen?"

There was a brief pause before you both started speaking at the same time.

"Maybe we can go back to the concierge–" Spencer began.

"I mean, I guess I don't really–"

"–although, JJ did say we got the last–"

"–mind as long as you–"

You cut yourself off this time. It’s not like there was another good option, unless one of you wanted to sleep in the car. "This is fine?" it came out as a question rather than a statement.

"I think so? I wouldn't want to– to make you uncomfortable or anything."

"This is fine," you repeated, more sure of yourself this time. “And you don’t make me uncomfortable.”

It was only kind of a lie. You trusted Spencer with your life, of course. But he also made you nervous. He was sweet, kind, always seeming genuinely interested in anything you had to say. And of course, anyone could see that he was attractive. You were developing feelings for him, and in a job where your coworkers and your crush himself were all adept at reading people, it really wasn’t a good position for you to be in. You just hoped Spencer was as oblivious with women as Derek made him out to be.

"We should get out of the doorway," Spencer suggested, and you realized you'd been standing in the threshold this whole time.

"Right."

The two of you walked in, Spencer closing and locking the door behind you. It was a modest room in a tiny town; your standard ugly-patterned, faded bedspread draped over the queen bed in the center, a window looking out into the parking lot, and a dresser that didn’t even have a TV on top of it. You headed straight for the bed, sitting on the edge and removing your shoes while Spencer stood by with his hands in his pockets.

"You know, if it's a problem I can sleep on the cou– uh, the chair," Spencer offered, looking back mid-sentence and realizing that the only additional furniture this motel offered was one rigid looking armchair by the window.

"No, you're not doing that."

"What?" he asked, taken aback by the quickness of your response.

"You're not sleeping in that chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable and I’m sure it’s never been cleaned, and I know how you’d feel about that.”

Spencer grimaced, not having thought about that particular detail. “Yeah, but, I mean… I’d do it for you.”

God, why did he have to say stuff like that? Like you were something special. And why now, when you were stuck in the same room with him until morning? It probably didn’t even mean the same thing to him as it meant to you. He was one of the most caring people you’d ever met. He’d probably say that to any one of you on the team.

Or maybe sleeping in a chair meant nothing to him at all. Maybe he actually didn’t want to share the bed with you and that’s why he was trying so hard to avoid it.

Ugh. You just wanted this day to be over. It was late, the case had been a week long, and now you were probably in for a fun night of overthinking and second guessing when you’d been expecting silence and easy, dreamless sleep.

Okay, maybe that last part was never really an option, but still.

“Look,” you sighed, “I know this isn't an ideal situation but there's a perfectly good bed here, so let’s just share it. If you’re okay with that. It's just one night and tomorrow we'll be back home and nobody has to know about it."

You had to fight from squeezing your eyes shut in regret. You wished that had come out differently. You chanced a look at Spencer, realizing that you’d been staring down at the faded carpet pattern while you spoke.

The look on his face was one you hadn’t seen before, and you almost couldn't place it. He seemed sort of disappointed. Disappointed that he had to share a bed with you? Or that you'd made it sound like you didn't want to share a bed with him? Nope, you could not go down that road tonight. You shook your head once as if it would clear the thoughts from your tired mind.

“I’m okay with that," he said, casually enough that you could almost convince yourself that you’d just imagined the look on his face before. "So, do you want the shower first, or...?" Spencer asked.

"No, I can wait, you go ahead," you said. You desperately needed the moment to yourself anyway.

You started rifling through your bag for pajamas, toiletries, and your charger as an excuse to look busy while Spencer made his way into the bathroom with his things. As soon as the door closed behind him, you flopped back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling as if it might hold all the answers.

Spencer couldn't know about your feelings. For one thing, you were pretty sure there was a rule against dating your colleagues in the BAU. If not, there probably should be. You were such a close knit team, and if anything went wrong… you couldn’t imagine how difficult that would be. But then, the evil and uncooperative part of you also couldn’t help but think that things might go right.

From the beginning of your time at the BAU, you’d been drawn to Spencer. It just kind of made sense. You’d gotten through school at an accelerated pace– though not as quickly as him, the man was on another fucking level when it came to academics– and you were one of the only people who found his fact dropping actually interesting, often asking him follow up questions. He’d looked adorably shocked the first few times you’d done that.

He listened intently to your passionate rants about your favorite films and tv shows, even though he hadn’t seen any of them. When the two of you had discovered a shared interest in mythology and folklore, Hotch nearly had to separate you so you would actually get some work done. It was like you were a kid in school again, and you might’ve been embarrassed if you didn’t find it so funny, if you weren’t so giddy at the idea of a friendship that could make you feel like a kid again.

Spencer understood you in a way that other people didn’t, laughing at your jokes even when they didn’t land for anybody else. When people interrupted or spoke over you, he always paid attention, and in situations where you were trying to add details to the profile he’d bring the conversation back around to you.

Throughout your life you’d learned– through painstaking trial and error– to fit in pretty well in most any group you found yourself in, but you’d always considered yourself to be a little weird. A little too different. But when you were with Spencer, you felt like you didn’t have to try so hard. You could both be a little different, together.

Spencer opened the bathroom door then, startling you. You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t even noticed the water turn off. You looked over to see him wearing a loose white t-shirt and pajama pants, his hair still damp. And now you knew what Spencer looked like fresh out of a shower. And of course it was endearing as hell.

“If that’s how you’re planning to sleep,” Spencer began, referencing how you were laid out in the dead center of the bed, your arms fully outstretched and hands hanging off the mattress, “then I think we might have a slight problem after all.”

You walked out of the bathroom a short while later, dressed in your usual sleepwear of shorts and an oversized shirt. You’d put your hair up in a bun to protect it while you showered, and now it hung loose around your shoulders. You simultaneously wished your outfit was cuter and uglier; knowing your giant t-shirt wasn’t flattering your figure while also feeling like you had too much skin exposed. Not that it mattered. You were just going to get some sleep and then wake up in the morning and head home. Everything would be back to normal.

Spencer’s in bed already. He’d turned off the big light while you were showering, the lamps on either side of the bed casting him in a softer, warmer glow. He looked up from his book to find you standing there, and the soft, familiar look in his big brown eyes had you rooted to the spot.

“Hey,” he said softly, patting the space next to him in invitation.

You conceded, finding your legs again and sliding into bed beside him. “Hey.”

He fidgeted with the pages of his book, ultimately shutting it closed on his index finger to mark the page. “So, uh, are we okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you answered genuinely, feeling bad that your internal struggle had manifested in a way that worried him.

“Okay, cool,” he said. He paused long enough to let you explain if you wanted to, another invitation. You knew he wouldn’t push it if you didn’t offer something up. You wanted to give him an explanation, but you couldn’t bring yourself to.

“Sorry,” you managed.

“For what?”

“I don’t know… acting weird, I guess. It’s just been a long day.”

“Oh, well, you don’t need to be sorry about that. You’re always weird.”

Your mouth dropped open as you looked at him. “Look who’s fucking talking,” you scoffed. Some of the tension dropped from your shoulders, glad he hadn’t questioned you further.

“Language, please,” he held up a hand to stop you. “I’m delicate.”

“Wha–?” you let out a surprised little laugh. “You’re an idiot!”

“Yeah okay, tell that to my I–.”

“Oh, my IQ of 187,” you finished for him, rolling your eyes. Even that was full of endearment. “God, you are so annoying.”

“Hm. Y’know, this might be a long night for you. I’d hate to keep you up with my annoyingness.”

“I feel like you could’ve come up with a better word than annoyingness, Mr. 187,” you tilted your head where it rested against the headboard, looking up at him.

“Oh, she’s being a smartass now!” he split into a surprised grin, and you could swear your heart skipped a beat.

“You just said ass.”

“Wow. How quickly you’ve corrupted me.”

“Right, of course. It’s my fault.”

“I knew you’d agree.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you laughed.

Things felt a little bit more normal after that, joking around with Spencer like you normally did made the rest of the night feel less daunting.

Shortly after that, the two of you agreed that you should get some sleep, each reaching over to turn out the light on your respective sides of the bed.

You let yourself sink into your pillow, the exhaustion you had been feeling giving way to a hyper awareness of Reid’s body next to you. You were kept awake, completely overcome by the foot of space between you and Spencer; the consequences of crossing that space, the way it might feel, the curiosity over whether he was laying awake too, thinking the same thoughts as you. Even with that foot of space separating you, you could feel his body heat. You longed to move closer to him, to touch him, to let his warmth seep into you and lull you to sleep.

But you didn’t, and you wouldn’t, because this was just an unfortunate booking mishap. It didn’t mean anything. Tomorrow it would be over, and you could more easily go back to hiding your feelings from everyone else and yourself.

Eventually, exhaustion won out.

You woke what could’ve been a few minutes or a few hours later, the sky still dark. You couldn’t tell what exactly had woken you up, only the sense that you’d moved, almost like you’d fallen. But fallen from what?

You blinked in the dark, the street lamps in the parking lot providing enough residual light to keep the room from being pitch black.

Reid was sitting up. He must’ve bolted upright, you thought. Had that been what moved you? Were you lying on him?!

“Hey, you okay?”

“Sorry. Just a nightmare,” he said as if it was nothing. “Sorry to wake you.”

“What was it about?” you ignored his apologies, sitting up as well.

“I don't really even remember,” he breathed, almost like it was funny. “Just having a physiological reaction to whatever it was, I guess.”

You had nightmares too, of course. You all did. You hated remembering them, but you also hated the times when you woke up in the dark, dazed and inexplicably scared. Without thinking, you reached for his hand.

He turned to look at you then. “I really didn't mean to wake you,” he reiterated.

“I figured,” you smiled slightly. You noticed his breathing was just a bit too fast. You rubbed your thumb over the back of his hand, leaning over to rest your weight against his side, your head on his shoulder. His nervous system would regulate itself quicker this way.

“You were on my pillow, by the way.”

“What?” you ask, your head jerking back from him.

“I totally called it. You rolled right into the center of the bed in your sleep. Total bed hog.”

“Hey!” you protested, pulling your hand back from his in embarrassment. So you had been lying on top of him. Or at least really close to him. His hand chased after yours, finding you again.

“That wasn’t me complaining about it.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say back.

It was quiet for a minute. You let your head fall back onto Spencer’s shoulder, but your heart raced in your chest.

“Can I ask you something?” he questioned, his tone becoming more serious.

“Oh– of course,” you answered, your brow creasing.

“What did you mean when you said ‘it’s not ideal’ and ‘nobody has to know about it’?”

“Wh– I– Spencer, come on.”

He didn’t give you an out this time. Just waited for an answer.

“I don’t even really know,” you sighed.

“I believe you’re being partially truthful about that.”

“Don’t profile me.”

“I’m not. I just know you.”

You sighed. “You know, sometimes I hate that stupid memory of yours.”

“I don’t need an eidetic memory to remember that. It was a weird thing to say, and it happened like four hours ago.”

“You’re guesstimating. And it wasn’t that weird.”

“Maybe not, but the way you said it was. And you’re avoiding my question.”

You continued to avoid it, biting down on your bottom lip.

“And you stuttered when I brought it up.”

“I told you to stop profiling me.”

This time, he just hummed in response.

“And so what if I stuttered?”

“Stuttering is usually more my thing. A nervousness thing.”

Maybe this was actually your nightmare. Maybe you’d wake up soon and none of this would’ve been real, and you wouldn’t have had to explain to Spencer that the reason you’d had an attitude was because the situation tonight had made it harder to hide your feelings from him. Big feelings that became a lot harder to ignore when he was this close to you, still holding your hand, the mix of scents from his detergent and deodorant clouding your judgment. Of all the embarrassing scenarios that you could’ve imagined playing out tonight, this was very high up on the list.

“I said ‘it’s not ideal’ because it’s not, just by definition. We were supposed to get a double room and we didn’t. Not ideal. And I said no one has to find out because I can already see Morgan having a field day with it and I know the exact expression that’ll be on his face–”

“The eyebrows,” he nodded, lips pursed.

“And then everyone else will get in on it and I just figured…” you sighed. “I don’t know. I didn’t want to deal with that.”

“That all makes total sense.”

“Good,” you breathed. Too relieved.

“Now tell me the rest of it.”

“God, Spencer–” you huffed out, frustrated. He knew you too well.

You wanted to run. Maybe you could go sleep in the car after all. And then ignore Spencer for the rest of the day, and then the year, and your life, and–

“Don’t make me say it,” you breathed. This had to be a dream.

“But there is something to be said?” he questioned, his tone hushed, almost reverent.

It was just vague enough. You could pretend it was nothing.

“Yes.”

You felt like you’d just blown your life up with one word.

Spencer took a deep breath, your body cresting and falling with the movement of it.

“You make me feel better about being myself,” he confessed.

You shut your eyes. You had a constricting feeling in your throat suddenly, and the awful realization that you might cry.

He spoke again, because you couldn’t. “I haven’t always felt good about it, you know? And then you joined the team, and, well– you changed a lot of things for me. And you’re beautiful, obviously, and I was scared to mess up what we have, because it’s special, I think–”

“It is.”

“–and then you started freaking out when you saw the bed,” he was smiling now, you could hear it, “and I thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so crazy… maybe I could make you feel that way too.”

“You do. Of course you do. I feel like I can be my full self with you. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt like that before.”

Spencer laughed, a little delirious giggle, and squeezed your hand in his. You’d managed to avoid crying, thankfully, and you grinned along with him, looking down at your joined hands as you squeezed him back.

Things seemed to still for a beat, the two of you sitting with this moment and letting it stretch out. You still couldn’t really believe this was happening. You might have to tell Spencer to pinch you.

“So what does that mean for us now?” you asked.

“Well, for right now at least, I think it just means that we can go back to sleep without overthinking things into oblivion.”

“I was not–”

“Okay, this time I am profiling you, and you’re lying,” he cut you off, his smile still evident.

“Oh, this was such a mistake.”

He continued like you hadn’t spoken, laughing a little as he went. “I could practically hear it. It’s like, you know when a computer is trying to use too much processing power and the fan starts whirring really loud? Like that but just like right next to me, like tangible—“

“Okay! Thank you so much, I actually totally got it, you can stop now.”

He laughed, and your cheeks warmed.

“For the record, I meant we could both stop overthinking.” Then he shifted a little, facing you a bit more. With the hand that wasn’t holding yours, he brushed a strand of hair from your face, a fake pout on his lips. “Sorry I make you nervous.”

You cackled at that, if it was possible to cackle in hushed tones. “Oh, I bet you are. Besides, I know you like me now, so you’ve lost that card.”

“Are you certain of that?”

“Certain that you like me or certain that you can’t make me nervous?”

“The latter. I do like you, if that was unclear.”

Your heart sped up, contradicting you as you answered, “Then I’m certain you can’t make me nervous.”

He titled your face up to his then, using his index finger underneath your chin to make you look at him. “You’re an awful liar.”

You just shrugged, watching triumphantly as Spencer’s gaze fell to your lips. “It’s been working out pretty well for me so far.”

“I guess it has,” he murmured, closing the distance between you and finally kissing you.

After so many months of imagining (and berating yourself for imagining) what Spencer’s lips might feel like on yours, you weren’t disappointed.

For once you didn’t have to think at all, the chemistry between you and him drowning out everything else. His hand fell to your waist, and yours moved to the curve of his jaw, pulling him closer as his mouth moved against yours. Your teeth grazed his bottom lip and he gasped, and your skin felt like it was lit up from the inside.

You pulled away to breathe, and to process, and to try and stop your head from swimming. You were rewarded with the awestruck look in Spencer’s eyes as he opened them again.

“Okay, was it just me, or–”

“That was crazy,” you breathed.

“Crazy,” he agreed.

“Spence?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think we’re getting back to sleep tonight.” Your eyes widened at the implication of saying those words at that time. “Not, like, in the sex way, though,” you hurried to correct yourself. “I need like, 4-5 business days to process things first, and I– well, I just meant, like– you know?”

Spencer was nodding at you even as his eyebrows pulled together in a frown. “Can I still kiss you during those 4-5 business days?”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, sounding breathless.

“Cool,” he agreed. “You seem really nervous, by the way.”

“Well, you kissed me.”

“I did.”

“How were you not nervous?” you breathed.

“Oh, I was. Your reaction is making me feel a whole lot better about it though.”

You scoffed half-heartedly. “I do so much for you.”

“You do,” he replied earnestly, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We could lie back down, if you want. Like we were before I so rudely woke you up.”

“Yeah, I’m super mad about that,” you joked. “Anyway, I was asleep for that, so you’ll have to show me what I was doing.”

He seemed all too pleased to do so. “Okay, so you were basically like,” he leaned back against the pillows, pulling you down with him, moving his hand to the side of your head to guide you to the place where his shoulder met his chest, “Like that, and then your arm was over here,” he picked up your arm and guided it around his waist.

“Oh god, that’s so embarrassing,” you said, realizing that he must’ve been awake when you’d done it.

“Yeah, I know. Really terrible time for me.”

“I can imagine. I can scoot back over to my side of the bed, just say the word.”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, squeezing you closer.

You trailed your fingers up and down his waist, feeling more content than you had in ages.

“I can’t believe you’d suggest that I would have sex with you right after confessing my feelings. Like, take me to dinner first at least.”

“Oh my god,” you half-exclaimed, half-laughed. You felt your cheeks heat up again, grateful it was still too dark in the room to be noticeable. “You’re right, I’m so sorry. How’s next Friday?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. My work schedule is kind of unpredictable. I’ll have to get back to you.”

“You’re such an ass.”

A few short hours later, you were back on the jet with the rest of the team. You were lying on the couch while Spencer sat in a seat one row up and across from you, both to avoid suspicion and so you could try to catch up on sleep. He sat facing away from you, but with the angle you were at you could still see one side of his face if you tilted your head up.

You were just beginning to fade when your phone buzzed next to you.

Spencer: I have to tell you something, coworker to coworker.

You looked up to see him blank faced, looking down at the book in his right hand, holding his phone in the left.

You text back: okay?

Spencer: My crush asked me out last night.

You’re exceptionally glad no one was sitting close enough to see you. Spencer had caught you off guard, and you felt an infatuated grin spreading across your face.

You: what did u say?

Spencer: Wanted to get your opinion first.

You: i think u should say yes, obviously.

Spencer: Idk, I’m kinda nervous. I think she’s trying to jump me on the first date.

You just barely managed to refrain from laughing out loud. You looked up at Spencer again, and he’s looking at his phone as if it contained nothing more than a weather report. You’re astounded.

You: one could argue that technically you’ve already slept together, so there’s less to be nervous abt

You saw his eyebrows raise just slightly. Success.

Spencer: You’re trouble, you know that? See you Friday night

You: i promise i won’t try to jump you

Spencer: Oh

Spencer: I fear I may have shot myself in the foot here

You: i wouldn’t worry about it too much

Spencer: That’s rich coming from you

You rolled your eyes even though he couldn't see you.

You: whatever. wear something sexy ;)

You heard him blow air out of his nose, an almost laugh.

“Something funny?” you heard Derek ask.

Shit.

“This book contains a historical inaccuracy that was proven incorrect eight years before its publishing date,” Spencer replied without missing a beat.

Unbelievable.

You: you’re unhinged :*

Spencer: Go to sleep already, would you?

You: coworker to coworker? my crush keeps interrupting my beauty sleep

Spencer: He’s probably worried about the worldwide implications of you becoming any more beautiful

You: i guess that’s why the universe gave you insomnia :( too pretty

Spencer: Stop flirting with me

You: bc you’re too delicate??

Spencer: Yes

You snapped your phone shut, feeling dazed. You watched the clouds go by in the window across from you, and you couldn’t help letting your gaze slide over to Spencer. He’d put his phone down as well, concentrating on his book. Or pretending to concentrate. He was turning the pages much too slowly for his actual pace.

You: you have got to do a better job of fake reading than that

You heard a page turn.

You looked up again to see the ghost of a smile threatening the corner of his mouth.

This was going to be fun. And also, you were so screwed.

#so they have flip phones but i didnt want to write everything in shorthand so theyre just really fast at it. go with it #spencer texts with perfect grammar bc of course he does #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #my fics

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flawseer · 4 months ago

Text

"#21 - Ancient", follow-up

I'm not going to be able to finish Smaugust #23 today, so that will have to wait until tomorrow. Apologies.

Instead, for a change of pace, let's talk about something different. I've seen a few reactions to my submission for day 21 that wondered what on earth must have possessed Secretkeeper to romantically pursue Morrowseer, and what that must have been like. Did they love each other? Was there any tenderness or affection between them? I figured I should give you my take on them.

I believe that Morrowseer--somewhere deep within his black, twisted lump of a heart--did indeed have feelings for Secretkeeper. You can kind of see this in the Prisoners short where he very unfavorably compares Farsight to Secretkeeper and sings the praises of the latter. He holds her in high esteem and seems to value her intelligence. He probably really wanted to have a meaningful relationship with her.

Unfortunately, he is wracked with the burden of having to be Morrowseer; a bitter, deeply unpleasant, emotionally shallow old dragon incapable of the humility required to be compassionate. For all the prestige and clout that Morrowseer has as an elite member of the Queen's court, his social life seems very empty and sad. He has no friends, only co-workers (who don't like him) and underlings (who butter him up), and I think he feels incomplete because of that. To fill this void, he fixates on asserting his importance and is desperate to maintain his status. He deeply desired to be the father of the prophecy Nightwing--which would have cemented him as the one dragon who saved his tribe--and the fact that he failed to sire a child in time not once (necessitating Starflight), but twice (necessitating Fatespeaker) eats him up on the inside. He perceives this as a huge failure, and Mastermind (who succeeded where he failed) picked up on this and mocks him for it. His entire conversation with Farsight reeks of "I am mad and jealous that your kid is special! It should have been mine!! Goddamnit why wasn't it mine!??"

For Secretkeeper's side... no, I don't think there's any deep affection there. I don't think she anticipated this relationship happening in the first place. But she did want to have a child, and when Morrowseer approached her, she weighed her options. If one can stomach living with someone like Morrowseer--who always has to be the most important person in the room--it's not an entirely bad deal. You get a lot of social clout as the Queen's right hand's mate, and since Morrowseer is exempt from the strict food rationing policy, you also get to eat. And he actively wants to have children to secure his legacy, which, if that's what you want as well, is pretty good. So in my mind she probably just went "Yeah, I can probably make this work. I'm sure he's not as bad to be around when he likes you." and agreed out of convenience.

But I doubt she loved him. There isn't really a reality where I can reconcile "She loved him" and "She kept their shared child a secret from him because she did not trust him". The only thing Secretkeeper genuinely loved about Morrowseer was that she was able to have Moonwatcher. So she stuck it out for her daughter, and I don't think she was upset for very long when Morrowseer died. She might have even felt a sense of relief that she didn't have to keep lying anymore.

I've seen people point to the fact that Secretkeeper felt a desire to tell Moonwatcher who her father was, and then posit that this means she did have feelings for him. I'm not sure I really agree. All that tells me is that she has feelings for Moonwatcher and wants her to know the truth. But if the truth is "I didn't really love your father, he was an awful and unpleasant person and I was just with him so I could have you", it becomes understandable why she would choose not to tell her.

That's my read of the situation anyway. Yours might be entirely different!

#wings of fire #dragon #wof #digital art #wof art #flawseer art #flawseer talk #wof headcanon #wof morrowseer #wof secretkeeper #wof mastermind #wof farsight #wof fierceteeth #long post #long winded #romance #flawseer story

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slightly-knot-insane · 18 days ago

Text

A Little Bit Rusty [ part 3 ]

Monstertober 2024 - day 25 [ Oviposition ] by /@ozzgin

[ m!monster x fem!reader ]

a/n: let's restart the monstertober, shall we? this is part 3, and here you can read [ part 1 ] and [ part 2 ] content: egg insertion, creampie, breeding, belly bulge, praising, pregnancy (?)

Ever since that little tryst inside the closet, your little 'situationship' stagnated. Not that you wanted that. But your mentor has been sending you some weird signals. The fact that he is a monster didn't help at all. He could definitely blush and strong emotions were recognizable on his scaly skin. But some subtle feelings like amusement, irritation, content very hard to catch. He truly seems interested in you, watching you often and eyeing you with his pupils dilated. You swear you even saw him lick his lips seductively (or was he just hungry?).

On the other hand, he has avoided staying alone in a room with you. As long as topics were professional, you could communicate, but as soon as you would try to talk about something private, he would blush and excuse himself to some 'very important business'. Bull shite.

Very soon you completely lost your patience, so one day, you wait the end of your shift and corner him. "I like you!" you almost shout as you bang your hand at the wall next to his head. He seems quite terrified. Maybe this wasn't the right approach? "Sorry, but yes, I do. And I think you like me? In any case, I would like to talk about us."

He is silent for a while, staring at your face in, what seems like disbelief or shock. "Lets go to my office, then."

As a perfect gentleman he is, he lets you enter first and closes the door behind you. You have only enough time to gasp before he pushes you against his desk and lifts you on the wooden surface. He kisses your neck, scraping his teeth against your skin while his bony hands knead your thighs. "I apologize," he growls. "I didn't want to be pushy. I thought you needed time to think... But I was thinking about you all the time... Imagining us again and again, over and over..."

"You..." Your breath hitches once his hand glides down your skirt and into your panties. "You said we're done thinking. I thought you truly meant that."

He takes a step back, stopping the kissing. "Shit, I did say that, didn't I? But we're coworkers and you're a young human and I thought... maybe... you would change your mind."

You pull him back onto yourself and press your palm against his hard cock hidden under neatly ironed pair of pants. "I am your coworker. I'm young. I'm a human. But I'm also very into you and want to fuck your brains out over and over again."

The growl he lets out was almost frightening. He pushes you down on his desk, his teeth bared. "Nggg..." He can barely talk, his tongue getting stuck and twisting around the human language. "I want to fuck you right here but... I also want... I've been thinking..." His expression changes to a weird one. He moves away from your, apprehensively rubbing his forehead. What a sudden change of mood. "Let's go to my place... I want to ask you something...

* * *

You expected many things - a BDSM dungeon, a collection of dildoes, costumes, maybe even another monster partner- but you didn't expect three eggs.

"Ever since that night, I've been thinking about you and how incredible you are. I would be so honored if you would carry them for me for three months. I never wanted an artificial uterus." He finally notices your flabbergasted expression. "What? I'm sorry, are you okay?"

It takes a glass of water, a glass of wine and a cookie to recover you. You two have a long chat and eventually reach an understanding. His species has had very short period of dating or courtship in general. Also, there are barely any members of his hybrid species left (and most of them are his relatives), so he had to go artificial even though he didn't want to. And then he met you and well... his breeding urges got a hold of him.

"I'm so so so sorry for overwhelming you. I've never dated a human and just... in the movies, it all happens so fast so I thought it was normal for you too."

All you can do is start laughing. Movies? This silly hybrid really doesn't have a clue about anything. Still, the idea sounds... good. Interesting, at least. Why not, after all?

You take his scaly hand in yours and guide it to your excited core. "Let's do this. YOLO, right?" You haven't nervously laughed like this since high school.

The shock on his face melts into gratefulness before sharpening his features into a very primal lust. He grabs your blouse and there is clear intent to rip it apart, but the polite part of him tames the wild side and he simply clumsily unbuttons it. You truly appreciate his affection and self control... at the moment.

"I need to prepare you," he says, smirking. His work suit is still on him but you're stark naked. Why do you suddenly feel so much hotter and exposed? And thrilled? He gently places you on a plush little armchair that reminds you of a bean bag, and spreads your legs. "First, lubrication," he explains and dives into your cunt.

His tongue is rough and bumpy, and it's too much for you at first. But his patient licks and flicks soon became a delightful sensation. He can't suck your clit, but he rubs it with his snout. He says he never dated human? Well, he probably watched porn and read some manuals because very quickly you're on verge of an orgasm.

"I'm sorry, doll, but I'll stop now. You are ready to cum - and fuck I want you to so much - but your orgasm will help eggs slide in, trust me."

You're panting and nodding, silently screaming to do whatever he wants quickly and give you the climax you need. He places the egg against your entrance and starts licking your clit again all while pushing the egg in and out. The slight stretching of the smooth eggshell and his rough tongue torturing your clit is completely different but so good.

"Such a good girl," he whispers, his burning eyes looking at your just above your pubes. "You're going to be so full of my eggs. You will carry my offspring for me."

The need builds up in you firing up your nerves with every lick and every stretch until you burst and scream. "Perfect," is all you hear him say as he pushes the first egg inside you.

"Oh my gah..." The egg slides inside your vagina, guided by your spasming muscles, until it nests against your warm womb. "So gah-good," you pant, shaking, and your mentor lovingly caresses your sweaty cheek.

"I'm so glad," he says. "There is more."

The second orgasm comes faster and the second egg slides easily too. "More," you pant still shaking. "This is so good. I feel them inside me. They feel so good."

Your mentor stands up and unbuttons his pants. You notice he's trembling too. "You're so beautiful like that. I can see them inside your stomach, all the beautiful curves. And they are mine. Fuck. I have to have you. I have to fill you."

He kneels in front of you and bites your nipple. His hard cock is rubbing against your anus, needy to enter a hole - any hole! - twitching impatiently. His cock glides against your moist cunt while he grunts into your chest. The next low moan is followed with his thrusting inside your core. Slow but intense. He is constantly cursing under his breath, groaning and grunting as he pounds your pussy. The pleasure erupts inside you and you gush around his cock, and he quickly pulls out. The last egg is inside you.

"Finally. Now I can fuck you all I want." He pushes your legs down with his shoulders and returns to your aching and pulsating hole fucking you and filling you with his seed until you're both exhausted. Before nesting behind you and holding you, he cleans you up and covers you with a blanket.

* * *

Things are a lot less awkward at work, in a way, even though you two can barely control yourselves. Sometimes you end up in storage rooms or offices, too impatient to wait for free time to properly fuck and cuddle. Your 'co-partner' is doting but also surprisingly virile - you have a lot of sleepless nights. You knew there was a proper shiny specimen hiding underneath all that rust.

You happily pat your belly and feel around the eggs. What will you do afterwards - who knows? You work in a museum and helping an extinct species come to life again is something any anthropologist dreams about. Future is just as exciting as the past.

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beecauseevan · 3 months ago

Note

first kiss in front of the team/at work!!

"You ready?"

Eddie turns. He's been staring at the firehouse, but Buck is a much prettier sight, cast in gold by the morning sun filtering through the car windows.

"Ready? For work?"

"Sure." Buck rolls his shoulders into the Jeep's driver's seat in a half shrug. "For work, and for—you know. Twenty-four hours is a long time."

Eddie leans against the door at his back, a smirk blooming on his face. "Is that a pickup line?"

"I don't have to use pickup lines on you," Buck tells him, but he's smirking too. "I picked you up a while ago."

Eddie hums.

"All I'm saying," Buck continues, "is that twenty-four hours… is a long time."

Eddie could keep playing hard to get. Taking the bait sounds more rewarding, though. He reaches for Buck, curls his fingers into the front of Buck's black t-shirt, "Guess I better stock up on this while I still have the chance, huh?"

"I guess so," says Buck.

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the parking lot. It's empty, not a soul in sight.

"We're all alone," Buck mutters, voice softer than before, though the gleam in his eyes hasn't changed.

"All alone," Eddie agrees, and tugs him close.

They arrived in the parking lot half an hour early, but when they actually make it inside, their shift is about to start. That means the locker room is empty, which in turn doesn't mean much—the glass walls provide no privacy—but Buck is nothing if not bold.

"Stop," Eddie mutters, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, which hangs half-open from his shoulders. He doesn't have to glance up to know Buck is looking at him, can feel the weight of his gaze on the exposed skin of his chest. It makes him feel stupid, and tingly all over, and warm.

"I'm not doing anything," Buck replies, equally quiet, though the smile in his words is loud.

"You're staring."

"I'm admiring."

And, honestly. Buck just spent four consecutive nights admiring every inch of Eddie's body. He should've looked his fill by now, but when Eddie finally meets his eyes, the hunger in Buck's smile is as obvious as it was this morning, yesterday, two weeks ago. Eddie shivers, glancing past Buck at the app bay to make sure nobody is watching them.

What if they both took a sick day? What would Bobby say then?

He pulls himself together and slaps Buck's (gloriously naked) chest. "Get dressed."

"Yessir."

"Oh my god," says Eddie, and moves to the other side of the locker room before he forgets himself.

And just in time, too. Hen knocks on the glass door, then sticks her head inside. "You guys coming?"

"Did the bell ring?" Buck asks, eyes wide.

Hen narrows hers and looks from Buck to Eddie and back to Buck. "No. I think you would've heard that."

"Right," says Buck. "Sure. I wasn't distracted or anything."

Hen frowns at Eddie, clearly expecting him to know what is going on with Buck, and she's not wrong, but Eddie shrugs anyway, feigns ignorance. Hen sighs.

"Bobby made waffles," she says. "If you don't hurry up, I'm giving your share to Ravi."

The city keeps them busy, after that, provides them with a steady stream of fender benders and fires and the occasional cat stuck in a tree. By the time they get another moment to themselves, the sun is setting over the city and the station is awash in shades of crimson and gold.

Eddie is just stepping off the treadmill, sweaty and in dire need of a shower, when Buck joins him in the gym.

"Hey," Buck says.

Just that. Just hey. He's smiling and his curls look soft in the afternoon sun, and Eddie wonders if this will ever stop being thrilling, if he'll ever be able to look at Buck without feeling like his chest is going to burst from all this love, if he'll ever be able to exist in Buck's presence without wanting, no, needing, to put his hands all over that glorious body.

"Hey yourself," he says, and Buck's smile widens, and he steps towards Eddie as if magnetized.

"I've missed you."

"You saw me ten minutes ago."

Buck shrugs. "You know what I mean."

Eddie does. He doesn't wish that he didn't. He likes knowing.

"Sixteen hours," he says lowly, as Buck stops in front of him, just a few inches shy of appropriate—but then they've never needed much personal space when it came to each other. "Think you can manage?"

"Barely," Buck replies, before his smile sweetens. He looks down at his feet and Eddie looks down too, at Buck's hands, which are twitching at his sides as though they're desperate to reach out. "But, yeah. I'll manage."

Eddie nods. He drags his eyes back up and finds Buck watching him in return. He's so close Eddie can count his lashes, could trace the smile lines in the corners of his eyes.

"There you are." Chim strides into the gym and stops dead in his tracks, frowns at them, which may or may not have something to do with the fact that Eddie just jumped away from Buck like he's been stung. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," Eddie says, too quickly.

Chim's frown deepens. Behind him, Hen appears on the scene of the crime, watching them over Chim's shoulder.

"If you guys are in some kind of trouble—"

And really, that's just uncalled for. Eddie opens his mouth and closes it again when he realizes he doesn't really have an excuse. Not for the first and probably not for the last time, Buck saves him.

"It's, uhm. Christopher's birthday party," he says. "We're—making plans."

Hen looks at Chim, who shakes his head.

"Chris' birthday is months away," she says.

"Well." Buck scratches the side of his neck. "Doesn't hurt to be prepared, right?"

He slides a pointed look Eddie's way, waiting for backup. Eddie opens his mouth.

It's new, still, this thing between them, new but not fragile. Three weeks ago, when their first kiss shattered every single one of Eddie's defenses, when he finally allowed himself a shot at true happiness, he warned Buck—told him that it would take him some time, that he would not be able to be Buck's plus one to a wedding any time soon.

Buck laughed at him, told him to stop worrying and we're not going to any weddings anyway, Eddie, unless you know something I don't, and kissed him again, and ever since then, he's been—patient, and careful, and wonderful, and everything Eddie could ask for and more.

He'd live like this, in secret, for another six years if Eddie asked it of him.

"Cause, you know," Buck continues, probably realizing that Eddie is too distracted to help him, and covering for him immediately, because he has his back even now. "Teenagers, they have—expectations. Right?"

"Right," says Eddie, and then he reaches out a hand and cups Buck's cheek and pulls him into a kiss, firm and sweet. When he breaks away, Buck is slack-jawed and glowing, and Eddie clears his throat and turns back to Chim and Hen, who are watching them with twin blank expressions. "Any more questions?"

"Huh," says Chim.

"Huh," adds Hen, and then, to Chim, "you owe me so much money. I knew it would happen before Christmas."

Chim groans loudly. Eddie leaves him to his misery and turns to Buck, who still looks stunned.

"Okay?" he asks quietly. He's lightheaded and giddy and so, so happy.

Buck's expression morphs into something different, something new, something that looks a lot like the inside of Eddie's chest feels—soft and warm and wonderful. "Okay. You?"

They have to talk to Bobby, and soon. Their future holds questions, of that Eddie is sure, and a lot of paperwork. He doesn't care about any of that right now.

"Never better," he says, and kisses Buck again.

#thank you so much for the prompt!!#buddie #buddie 911 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #buck x eddie #buddie fic #buddie fics #mine #q

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anakinstwinklebunny · 4 months ago

Text

PETER PAN!ANAKIN HEADCANONS

Author's note: here both of them, anakin and reader, aren't children. Here they're both around 17-18

TW: no smut!

Author's note: a lot of blogs that crossed through my dms had lately decided to deactivate. I fully support them however can't stop this melancholic feeling creeping up my spine. So, my crazy week with posting my work is dedicated to them. @katiapostsss-deactivated2024081 @yrsjune and so on.

divider - @hellfire--cult

You always believed in fairy tales. Every night, you'd curl up under your blankets, eagerly turning the pages of your favorite stories, letting the words transport you to distant lands where anything was possible. But as much as you loved reading about those grand adventures, a quiet longing had taken root in your heart—a yearning to experience the magic firsthand. To leave behind the ordinary world and step into a place where dreams became reality and happiness was more than just a fleeting moment.

One night, after finishing another tale of Neverland, you couldn't ignore the pull any longer. The idea had been growing in your mind for days, and now, it was impossible to resist. You hurried to your desk, your heart racing with the kind of excitement you only felt when you were on the brink of something extraordinary. Grabbing a piece of paper, you scrawled a note in your neatest handwriting:

Dear Peter Pan,

I've left my window open.

Please come rescue me.

You stuck the note to your window, the cool night air drifting in through the gap you'd left. With a final glance at the stars outside, you crawled back into bed, pulling the duvet up to your chin. As you lay there, the house quiet around you, you could feel your pulse quicken with anticipation. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the leaves outside had you holding your breath, hoping that this time, it wasn’t just the wind. Would he really come? Could he be real, like the stories said?

You squeezed your eyes shut, not wanting to miss even the faintest sound that might signal his arrival. And as the night stretched on, you waited—(im)patiently, your heart filled with a mixture of hope and a whisper of doubt. Somewhere deep inside, you knew that if anyone could take you away to where dreams were born, it was him—your favorite hero from all the stories you loved.

Peter Pan!Anakin who actually made your dream come true;

Anakin, dressed in his usual green tunic with a mischievous smirk playing on his lips, slipped through the open window with the grace of someone who had done it a hundred times before. His eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room, and he took in the surroundings—a cozy space filled with books, twinkling fairy lights, and little trinkets that spoke of a dreamer. A map of Neverland was tacked to the wall, and in the corner sat a small chest overflowing with the kinds of treasures a girl might hoard: seashells, old coins, and feathers.

But then, his gaze landed on you, curled up in bed, your face peaceful in sleep. For a moment, he simply stood there, captivated. You looked like a storybook character yourself, with the moonlight casting a soft glow on your features. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of adventures you dreamed about, or what made you leave that note for him.

Before he could get lost in his thoughts, a sharp tug on his tunic yanked him back to reality. Tinker Bell, her tiny face twisted in annoyance, was buzzing around him like a bright, golden light.

“Hey!” she whispered harshly, her little hands pulling at his shirt. “We’re here for your shadow, remember? Not some girl.”

“Come on, Tink. Look at her. Isn’t she just… enchanting?” He took a step closer to your bed, but Tinker Bell darted in front of him, her tiny arms crossed over her chest.

“She’s nothing special,” Tink huffed, her wings fluttering rapidly. “Let’s just get what we came for and leave.”

Anakin rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re just saying that because you’re jealous.”

Tinker Bell’s cheeks flushed an even brighter shade of pink. “I am not!”

Their bickering grew a little louder, and in the midst of it, you stirred. The soft murmur of voices slowly pulled you from sleep, your eyes fluttering open. At first, you thought you were still dreaming—because what you saw couldn’t possibly be real.

A boy, no older than you, stood near your bed, dressed in strange clothes, with tousled hair that looked like it had been styled by the wind itself. Floating beside him was a tiny, glowing figure, radiating light like a star. It took you a moment to realize what you were seeing, and when you did, your heart skipped a beat.

“Peter Pan?” you whispered, your voice tinged with awe and disbelief.

Anakin turned his attention to you, slowly taking in your beautiful eyes. For a moment he just stood there, not saying anything but taking in everything there was about you. He felt this weird feeling of butterflies in his stomach before he composed himself and a charming grin spreading across his face. “The one and only. And you must be the one who left that note.”

You sat up slowly, still trying to wrap your head around the fact that Peter Pan was standing in your room, looking even more handsome than you had imagined. “I… I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

He stepped closer, all traces of the earlier argument with Tinker Bell gone from his face. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he said, “Well, you called..and how could I resist an invitation like that?”

Tinker Bell, still hovering nearby, let out an exaggerated sigh but didn’t interrupt again. She could see the way you and Anakin were looking at each other, and she hated it

Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to Neverland and soon later introduced you to all the boys. Although you couldn't shake the tinkler bell's displeasure with your presence. Once you talked about this with anakin, he promised to do something (yet she hadn't really accepted you)

Peter Pan!Anakin who made sure any boy did not flirt with you. Especially Rufio

Peter Pan!Anakin who loves to show off his flying skills;

"But—what if I fall?" Your voice trembled slightly as you looked down at the glistening, see-through blue water below. The height sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but gulp nervously.

Anakin chuckled softly, his eyes dancing with excitement. Hovering effortlessly in the air above the shimmering water, he looked down at you with a cheeky, reassuring grin.

"Oh, darling," he said with a teasing lilt, extending his hand towards you. "But what if you fly?"

"I—" You hesitated, your gaze flickering once more to the soft waves crashing against the cliff. The fear of falling tugged at your heart, making your pulse quicken.

Anakin sensed your hesitation, the flicker of worry in your eyes. His grin softened, turning into a look of pure encouragement. He continued to float with ease, his hand still reaching out to you, his confidence unwavering.

"Come on, love," he coaxed gently, his voice brimming with warmth and certainty. "Take my hand. I won’t let you fall, I promise. Just think of something that makes you happy."

"Happy thought?" You echoed, your voice small, but curious.

"Right, a happy thought." He paused, his gaze deepening as he searched your face. "Close your eyes, take a deep breath, and imagine something that fills your heart with joy. It could be the warmth of the sun, the sound of laughter, or a memory that makes you smile. Hold onto that feeling... and trust me."

You closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you. Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand in his. The warmth of his touch sent a spark of reassurance through you, and you felt yourself being gently lifted from the ground.

As your feet left the soft grass, you felt a moment of panic, but it quickly subsided as Anakin's grip remained firm yet tender. He guided you into the air, and before you knew it, you were floating beside him, the shimmering water below now seeming more like a distant dream than a threat. The cool breeze kissed your skin, and you marveled at the sensation of weightlessness.

"Open your eyes," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with wonder.

You obeyed, your eyes fluttering open to take in the breathtaking view. The height was dizzying, and for a moment, your heart skipped a beat.

"Oh my—" You gasped, your body instinctively tensing as you realized just how high you were.

Anakin chuckled again, this time more softly, as he wrapped his arm around your waist, anchoring you to him. His presence was grounding, a steadying force in the midst of this surreal experience.

"It’s alright," he soothed, his voice a comforting murmur in your ear. "I’ve got you. Just hold onto that happy thought, yeah?"

You nodded, your lips forming a thin line as you forced yourself to focus on the happiness that had brought you here, rather than the fear. When you looked up at him, his handsome face was glowing with pride and affection.

Anakin smiled at your nod, understanding the depth of trust you had placed in him. He moved closer, his body brushing lightly against yours, a silent reassurance that you were safe with him. The breeze played with your hair as the two of you floated together, suspended in a moment that felt like pure magic.

"See, love?" he murmured, his gaze never wavering from yours. "You’re flying. Just like I promised."

Peter Pan!Anakin who quickly developed feelings towards you

Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite his playful nature, is fiercely protective of you. He won’t hesitate to confront any danger in the forest, whether it’s a mischievous pixie or a dark force threatening your safety.

Peter Pan!Anakin who you made nervous (which was uncommon for someone like him)

Peter Pan!Anakin who you quickly started to call by small nicknames that he loved (always manage to make his cheeks flush)

Peter Pan!Anakin who gave you a bouquet of glowing flowers;

As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in rich shades of pink and orange, Anakin found himself deep in thought. Over the past few days, his mind had been occupied with one thing—you. His feelings for you had grown stronger, more intense, and it was getting harder to keep them hidden.

In the quiet of the evening, Anakin busied himself gathering a bouquet of glowing flowers. Their luminescent petals bathed his surroundings in a soft, ethereal light, casting shadows that danced around him as he worked. He wanted to create something beautiful, something that might convey the emotions he couldn’t quite put into words.

"Ani? What are you doing?" Your voice, sweet and soft, broke through his reverie.

Startled, Anakin jumped slightly. He had been so engrossed in his task that he hadn’t even noticed you approaching. His heart raced, a mix of surprise and embarrassment flooding through him. Instinctively, he tried to hide the bouquet behind his back, though it was already too late.

"Nothing! I’m just… uhm…" He stammered, fumbling for words as a faint blush crept across his cheeks. Realizing that he couldn’t hide the flowers or his intentions any longer, he sighed softly and brought the bouquet forward, revealing it with a sheepish smile.

"I… I made these for you…" His voice was tinged with nervousness, his gaze flickering between the bouquet and your eyes.

"For me?" You asked, a mix of surprise and warmth in your voice.

Anakin’s blush deepened, and he nodded, his usual confidence faltering as he anxiously awaited your reaction.

"Yeah, for you. I remembered how much you liked the glowing flowers on our last walk… so I thought I’d gather some for you. I wanted to… brighten your night."

"I--well--thank you," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face.

Relief washed over Anakin at your response, and he couldn’t help but return your smile. He shuffled slightly, rubbing the back of his neck—a habit of his when he felt nervous or unsure.

"I’m glad you like them. I tried to pick the prettiest ones I could find."

Your smile widened as you stepped closer and you decided to do something new, something you've dreamed about doing for a long time. Standing on your toes, you pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek

"They're perfect" you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

Anakin’s heart swelled at your words, his smile growing as he held the bouquet out to you, the glowing flowers reflecting in his eyes.

"I’m glad you think so. I wanted to do something special for you… because you’re special to me."

His words were soft, almost shy, as he took a step closer. The glow from the flowers illuminated his face, highlighting the earnest expression in his eyes. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you standing in the gentle light of the flowers.

Anakin’s heart pounded in his chest as he leaned in, closing the distance between you. The soft light cast by the flowers created a halo around you both, making the moment feel even more magical. As his lips met yours, the world fell silent. The only thing that mattered was the tender connection you shared, the warmth of his embrace, and the gentle rhythm of your heartbeats, perfectly in sync.

Lost in the kiss, Anakin felt a sense of completeness he had never known before. He didn’t notice Tinker Bell’s jealous stomping in the distance, too absorbed in the feel of your lips, the softness of your skin, and the way you fit perfectly in his arms. He pulled you closer, deepening the kiss, wanting to savor every second of this precious moment.

Peterpan!Anakin who often sang soft lullabies to you when you’re falling asleep, his voice soothing and full of love. And he always promised that he’ll always be there to protect you, no matter what.

Peter Pan!Anakin who, despite the thrill of adventure, has his tender moments. He loves to cuddle with you in a cozy treehouse, wrapped up in a blanket while he whispers stories of his past and dreams of the future.

Peter Pan!Anakin who is a dreamer, constantly imagining new adventures, and he's always trying to impress you with his latest idea. Whether it's finding a new hideout, building something impressive, or planning a daring raid on the pirates, he loves when you join him in these endeavors. Your support means everything to him, and he often seeks your approval without even realizing it.

Peter Pan!Anakin who makes sure to keep you safe from the mermaids, or the treacherous jungles. He'd probably do anything to ensure you're happy and safe, even if it means putting himself in harm's way.

Peter Pan!Anakin who has a special place in Neverland that he never showed anyone else until he met you. It's a secluded spot, perhaps a hidden waterfall or a secret treehouse, where he goes to think and be alone. When he finally takes you there, it's a significant moment, symbolizing how much you mean to him and how much he trusts you.

Peter Pan!Anakin who loves using the magic of Neverland to play tricks and have fun. He might use fairy dust to create harmless pranks, like making your hair float or turning your shadow into a playful doppelgänger

Peter Pan!Anakin who uses you as a comforting presence when he doubts himself.

Peter Pan!Anakin who makes a promise to you, something sacred in the context of Neverland. It could be a vow to always find his way back to you, no matter where you are, or to show you a new star every night.

Peter Pan!Anakin who was first to snuggle up to you when the time came for you to tell a goodnight story to the lost boys

Peter Pan!Anakin who had to save you from captain hook

Peter Pan!Anakin who took you to different places to spend more time with you;

Hand in hand, Anakin gently guided you through the lush, enchanting greenery of Neverland until you reached a serene spot that overlooked a breathtaking view of the setting sun. The sky was a canvas of warm hues—orange, pink, and gold—casting a soft glow over the landscape. A cool breeze brushed against your skin as you stood together, taking in the beauty around you.

He led you to a large, flat rock, the perfect place to sit and watch the world slow down. You both settled down side by side, the sun sinking ever so slowly toward the horizon.

"Now you're just neglecting the Lost Boys,"* you teased, a playful giggle escaping your lips.

Anakin chuckled in response, the sound warm and familiar. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he glanced at you, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Ah, but they’re used to it," he quipped, turning his gaze back to the vibrant sunset, the colors reflecting in his eyes. "They’re resourceful boys; they’ll manage just fine."

"Besides," he continued with a grin "I’m indulging in my favorite princess right now. The Lost Boys can wait their turn."

As Anakin admired the sunset, lost in the moment, you found yourself unable to take your eyes off him. His strong profile was softened by the fading light, and something about this moment made you want to express what was on your mind.

"You're different from how books describe you..." you mused softly, a small smile tugging at your lips, even though you knew the concept of books was foreign to him.

Anakin chuckled again, the sound low and rich as he continued to gaze at the setting sun. He could feel your eyes on him, and there was a curious edge to his voice when he finally responded.

Turning to meet your gaze, he arched an eyebrow in a blend of playfulness and curiosity "What’s...book?"

You shook your head, a slight smile still on your lips. "Nothing. Don’t mind it," you replied, brushing off the question, knowing it would lead to more complexities than you were ready to explain.

Anakin studied you for a moment, sensing that there was more behind your words. But instead of pushing further, he turned his attention back to the sunset. A brief silence hung between you, filled only by the rustling of leaves and the distant calls of Neverland’s creatures. Then, with a playful smirk, he turned back to you.

"You’re quite the mystery, you know that?" his voice carrying a hint of admiration mixed with a teasing edge, his eyes still reflecting the vibrant colors of the sunset.

Peter Pan!Anakin who's mood each time fell whenever you mentioned going back to your world

Peter Pan!Anakin who deeply conflicted about the idea of growing up, especially when it comes to your relationship. He fears that you’ll eventually want to leave and grow old, while he stays the same

Peter Pan!Anakin who eventually had to accept your decision;

Anakin listened intently as you spoke, his expression growing somber. He knew this conversation was inevitable, but he had been dreading it, avoiding the harsh reality of losing you.

"I know...I know." His voice was thick with emotion, and he paused, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat "But what about Neverland? What about... us?"

When you suggested he come with you, a flicker of hope and doubt crossed his eyes. Yet, the idea of leaving Neverland, the only place he had ever called home, was almost unthinkable.

"You know I can't. This is my home. Neverland is all I know," he murmured, the corners of his mouth turning downward as he grappled with the decision before him.

You stepped closer, your eyes filled with a mixture of desperation and love.

"Please, Ani. I want you with me. I don’t want to leave you behind."

He sighed, his heart caught in a tug-of-war between his love for you and his love for Neverland. The weight of the decision bore down on him, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped between two worlds.

But then, his eyes darkened, his expression growing more serious

"And grow up? Turn into an adult? Live a mundane life with mundane jobs and worries?" He shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. The thought of abandoning the magic and freedom of Neverland for a life of routines and responsibilities made his stomach churn.

"It’s going to be okay...it’s not so bad—" You tried to reassure him, but your voice wavered, betraying your uncertainty. However you started to feel the watery liquid raise in your eyes but you managed to blink them off before they could escape their place

Anakin raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched across his face.

"Not so bad? It’s going to be a life of routine and expectations. We’ll be losing all of this—the magic, the adventures, the freedom…" His voice softened, laden with the weight of what he was about to say. "I don’t want to lose you either, but I don’t know if it’s worth the cost."

"What? I—anakin—" Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to make him understand. "I can’t just leave my family like that..."

"And I can’t just leave Neverland. Everything I’ve ever known, everything I’ve ever loved...this is my home." His voice wavered as his own eyes began to mist over. "I...I don’t want to lose you, but I can’t uproot everything I know to follow you."

A heavy silence hung between you, the weight of the situation pressing down on both of you.

"So...this is how it ends?" You whispered softly, your voice trembling with emotion. You could fight, make him understand that being an adult isn't so bad like he thinks it is. Yes, there are responsibilities but still, it's not so bad. Yet, you found yourself submitting to his decision, to his slight stubbornness. And in that moment, you started to let go.

Anakin's heart felt like it was being torn in two. The pain in your voice mirrored the pain in his own heart.

"I guess so...I suppose this is where we say goodbye." He tried to keep his voice steady, but the sadness seeped through, making his words sound hollow. He stared at you, memorizing every detail of your face, knowing this might be the last time he’d see you.

With a deep breath, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss filled with sadness and longing. The knowledge that this might be the last time they would ever kiss made him cling to the moment, trying to make it last just a little longer. When the kiss finally ended, he took a shaky breath, his voice barely a whisper.

"But goodbyes aren’t forever, you know? We’ll meet again...someday, lost girl"

A small, pained smile tugged at the corners of his lips as you let out a dry chuckle, your attempt to mask the pain. He reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment longer than necessary.

"You take care of yourself out there, okay?" His voice was tender, laced with a love that couldn’t be easily expressed in words.

You nodded, tears brimming in your eyes, and leaned in to press a small kiss to his swollen lips, sealing your bittersweet goodbye.

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itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland · 6 months ago

Text

Dream of You (Spike x Y/N)

Requested: YES! Requested by @wtv-my-current-hyperfixation

TW: Smut. so much smut.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

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Giggles and breathy laughter fills the room. Shared glances and touches of desire. You laid in Spike's arms satiated and content. Your body marked and sore. Nights like this were things if novellas and steamy dreams. Spike caressed your hair as he whispered how proud he was of how well you took him. You blushed and smiled. You wanted this to be forever. You wanted it to be real. You reach for his skin, but it's gone. You're left alone, again in your own bed.

You wake up aroused and moist, again. These dreams are a nightly recurrence, something of routine. Your desire for your dear friend Spike was getting out of hand. You wanted him not just on but inside you. However, you would be mortified if he found out.

You get out of bed and go straight for a shower. On a lazier day you would play with yourself to meet some of those needs. Today you were in a hurry. It was your nightly date-ish with Spike. You would sit around his crypt and watch tv. You wanted to make sure you ran all your errands before nightfall.

Most of the day is spent running around town, getting things for tonight. You were sure to get all of Spike's favorites, including a couple of blood bags from the butcher. Before heading to the cemetery you decide to pop into The Magic Shop.

"I just need bone powder and it'll be done" Willow commented to Buffy.

"I'd rather not grind out demon bones." Buffy responded.

"No, silly. It's on the top shelf to your left."

Willow continued making her spell. She worked diligently to make sure all the ingredients and words were correct.

"Hello, peeps. What it do?" Y/n walks into the store.

The scoobies greet y/n as she walks up to Willow.

"What are you up to?" Y/n asks Willow directly.

"Oh, a truth spell!"

"Who are we truthing?"

"Spike."

"Spike!" Your voice gets a pitch higher.

"Yep. Buffy thinks he's being dishonest, and she needs information from him."

"Don't you need his hair for that?"

Willow pulls out a small vial with blondish hair. "Got it." She grins.

You look nervous but say nothing. You feel out of place, but you stay. You make sure to be helpful and calm. You didn't know why Spike being under a truth spell made you uncomfortable. You mulled over the ethics of what your friends were doing but instead you came up with an idea. If Willow casts the spell while you were with Spike you could ask him how he feels about you. You're quick to gather yourself and head out with a quick goodbye.

You basically skip all the way to Spike's crypt.

As you enter the crypt you hear Spike running around downstairs. He hears the door and runs up to the main floor.

"Don't close that door!" He yells

It was too late; you had shut the door. Spike looks frustrated. He sighs in exasperation.

"What?" You ask.

"I've been trapped in here for 2 days the bloody door is stuck and only opens from the outside."

"Oh... uh oh." It dawns on you that you're now trapped with Spike. You feel giddy but scared. How long will it take for someone to bust in through that door. Worst, now you can't question Spike while he's under the truth spell. If he says he feels the same shenanigans can ensue, but if he says no than you're trapped here with your shame.

You wring your hands nervously. Spike walks up to you unsure if to shake you or hug you. He notices the care basket you made for them.

"What's this?" He points to the basket.

"Well, the plan was for us to watch trash tv and eat junk food. I even brought baggies of blood for you. But I guess our plan is to survive." You take a long look at the door.

Spike palms his face in frustration. Of course, his planned "date" night with you would be ruined. Suddenly he perks up. If the door is shut for now that means you would have to stay with him, share his space... share his bed.

He takes you by the hand and leads you to the couch he found in the dumpster.

"Let's make the most of it." He grins.

You nod and sit back. You spent the night watching tv and eating. It was 2am and your eyes were drooping. Spike noticed and turned off the tv.

"You can take the bed." He mumbled as he walked you down to his room.

You're suddenly awake. His bed. You can share it. Wait... are you even ready for that intimacy. You risk it.

"We can share. I trust you" you say cheeks burning red.

Spike is chipper but downplays it. He assents and lets you lay down.

"I'll be down in a bit." Spike tucks you in and scurries back to the couch.

You find it hard to fall asleep. Your heartbeat in your ears. You were sharing your crush's bed, and you were stuck with him. What is this a Wattpad story? Eventually, your eyes close and you're off to dreamland.

Soft touches and passionate gazes. Bodies intertwined in lust and love. You breathe hard finding your sanity as Spike thrusts into you at a steady pace. Your eyes are rolled back into your head. Chest down, ass up, you were at his mercy. He grabs your hair keeping you in place. Your moans are lewd and loud. You feel yourself closer to the edge, closer to release. His hand finds your swollen bud and plays with it in circles. It makes you see stars. You're climbing, soaring, so close to your release.

"Y/n"

You can’t speak.

"Y/n!"

You awake in a startle. Your eyes adjust to see Spike over you. You pull the covers up to your chest as your brain adjusts and remembers where you're at.

"Are you okay?" Spike asks

"Y- yes... why?"

"You were mumblin' in your sleep. At some point you were yellin'. "

You blush ferociously. "Did I say anything?"

"Nah, love. I couldn’t make it out.

You sigh in relief. He looks at you confused.

"It was probably a bad dream" you mumble. You turn around and pretend to go back to sleep to avoid further questions.

It's 4pm and you and Spike are wide awake and bored. You try to open the door to no luck.

"Stop, pet. I already tried."

You sigh and turn to him. "What now?"

Spike walks to the couch and turns on the tv again. You give up, not knowing what to do, and sit by him.

"Do you have any friends?" You ask

"No. Partners in crime, yes. Friends, no."

"Do you get bored of being a vampire?"

"No. I kill, I shag, and I sleep."

"Do you -" you're cut off

"Wha is this, 20 questions?" He turns to you annoyed.

"I’m bored. Let's play a card game."

Spike obliges. He finds a deck of cards and you spent the next several hours playing cards in silence.

"I’m bored again." It was 8pm.

"Let me ask you questions then." Spike grinned.

You nodded, nervously.

"Who was your first kiss?"

"Robert in third grade. Sloppy kisser."

"Cheeky."

"Who was your first love?"

"Jason in college. A real gentleman. Before you ask, we broke up because he developed a coke addiction."

"A real gentleman, indeed."

"Who's your last love?" Spike leaned in expectantly.

You chuckled, nervous. "What? No question on who I lost my virginity to?" You tried to change the subject.

"It ain' Xander, is it?"

"I’m tired. More questions tomorrow, okay?"

Before he could respond you book it to Spike’s room. You lay down and close your eyes real tight in the hopes that Spike didn't trail after you.

Dim lights and rustling. The scent of sex in the air. You're laid out, open and exposed. Spike is nowhere in sight. You feel slight pressure on your clit. You gasp as it increases. You look down to see a head of blonde hair. Your eyes widen as you notice what was happening. Spike's tongue played with your folds. He lavished your insides with his mouth. Your breath labored as you grabbed the sheets of the bed for dear life. He made sure to take his time. To memorize every crevice and nook you had to offer. He became drunk with your scent, your taste. You moaned his name like a Gregorian chant while he worshipped you. You felt your lower abdomen tighten as he lapped at your slit, rolling circles around it. You knew he would give you the best orgasm of your life and you were ready for it. You begged him for release. He prayed your juices would wash over his mouth so he could memorize your taste. You feel unstable, as if someone is shaking the bed. The movements becomes more prominent.

You wake up, groggy, disoriented. Spike, again staring down at you.

"Love, are you okay? You were repeating my name over and over again."

"Um... I had a nightmare... about you...?"

"What about me?"

"Uhhh... You were being attacked... by a uh... demon! And I was scared for you."

Spike is confused but takes your explanation as true.

"What time is it?" You try to change the subject.

"5pm."

You jump out of bed. "We gotta get out of here." You say for your sanity.

Back at the Magic Shop Willow was ready to do her truth spell. All her ingredients in place and determination in her mind. Sadly, she had taken an extra ingredient in with all the others, a strand of your hair. As Willow works on the, unbeknownst to her, ruined spell Buffy beelined it to Spike's crypt.

Back at the crypt only arguing can be heard.

"You're acting weird." Spike accused.

"I’m just tired of being here!"

"So, you're tired o' me?"

"I didn't say that." You turn to him, exhausted and embarrassed.

Pounding comes from the outside of the crypt. Buffy kicks down the door and goes straight for Spike. You're left standing there.

"Where's the next big bad?" Buffy questioned Spike.

"I already told you; I don't know." Spike looks helpless.

"You're lying. Why is the spell not working" Buffy shakes Spike.

"What spell?" Spike asks.

"A truth spell for you." You chime in without your consent.

Both Spike and Buffy look at you. Spike was surprised and Buffy annoyed. You were confused at your own statement. You didn't intend to tell the truth.

Buffy punches Spike a couple of times before questioning him again. When she didn't get an answer, she dropped him and walked away furious.

You just stand there until you remember your fight with Spike. You had to get out of there.

"Oh, no you don't" Spike grabs your forearms. "Tell me what's wrong."

"I've been having sexual dreams about you." You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Your free hand flies to your mouth. You mentally reprimand yourself.

Spike takes in what you said. A grin painted on his face.

"You don't say, love. Out of curiosity, what are we doing in these sexual dreams" He leans in.

Your eyes widen and your mouth starts moving. You tell him about the lewd and lustful acts you have dreamed about. You confess to waking up wet and pent up. You put yourself out there in display for him to ravage the carnage of your secrets.

Spike's face hurts from smiling so wide.

"Now tell me, why would you have these dreams about us?"

You try to bite your tongue but it's too late, "Cause I’m in love with you."

Spike wastes no time claiming your mouth. He memorizes how you taste, how soft your lips are, the way you closed your eyes to kiss him.

"Ler me show you what I can really do." He whispers against your lips.

He picks you up bridal style and walks you down to his bedroom. With care he places you on his bed. He climbs on top of you, kissing you as he settles between your legs.

Impatient, you start tugging at his clothes trying to get them off.

"Easy. All in its due time." He says.

He trails kisses down you jaw to your neck, nipping on his way down. Carefully, he removes your shirt and your bra. You resist the urge to cover yourself from his prying eyes. His gaze is lustful, like a predator eyeing his prey.

His mouth makes a path between you neck all the way to your breast. With great care he places his mouth on your left nipple, giving it the attention it deserved. With his right hand he massaged your right breast. All synchronous so as to stimulate you and prepare you for what’s coming next. He alternated between breasts, sending little jolts of pleasure through your body.

With little haste he made his way to your abdomen and found his way to his prize. He nestled himself between your legs inhaling your scent. Without much wait he dived in, lapping at your folds, twisting his tongue on your clit, memorizing your taste.

You gripped the bed sheets as hard as you could. Your back arching, reaching for him. Your body was alive and electric. He didn't slow down his assault, giving you no space for a deep breath. You moan and beg. You're at odds with yourself. You need release but want to savor the moment.

Spike is observant of the rise and fall of your chest. He tracks your moans and whimpers as he plays with speed and pressure. He has never been this hungry. He decided that he wants to have you wash over him. He wants your release. He inserts two fingers in you while still lapping at your clit. He chases your orgasm with his nimble hands and expert tongue. You swear that your soul is being exorcised out of your body as you crash and spill all over with your release. You're a whimpering, shaking mess. You gasp for air as you slowly land back in your body.

As you look down you see Spike, still between your legs, grinning. Pleased but not satisfied, yet. You make a move to stand up, but he's on you faster than you can speak. He claims your mouth, inviting you to taste yourself on his lips. You're drunk on your own taste on his tongue.

As you passionately make out, Spike makes quick work of his clothes. He's ready to claim you. You're giddy and pliant.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?" He asks.

You nod, unable to form a single word.

When he finally releases his erection from his pants you're surprised. How are you going to take all of him? He's so big and hard. Spike can read the uncertainty in your face. He cups your cheek gently and places his forehead against yours.

"It'll be alright. If it's too much just tap me on the arm and I'll stop."

You nod again, determined.

He teases your entrance and clit by rubbing the head of his cock back and forth. Slowly entering you every now and then but then retreating from your entrance, so as to prepare you for his size. Your whimpers fill the room. You want him so much. He can tell you're getting impatient, so he aligns himself and slowly enters you. He stays still, letting you acclimate to his size. Your breath is labored, you're almost delirious with pleasure. You can't believe this is happening.

He slowly moves, rocking back and forth, giving you a rhythm to hold on to. You moan in tandem. Your eyes brimming in tears from the pleasure.

"Look at you, taking me so well." Spike praises you.

You give a lustful smile, too lost to register his words.

He picks up the pace. Thrusting in and out, in and out. Giving you what you asked for. Giving you heaven on earth. You beg for him to go deeper. You needed him completely. Spike chuckles and thrusts harder. His movements are rough and long, giving you a chance to feel every vein and curvature on his cock. You push up against him with your hips, meeting his every thrust. He looks down at you, drunk on sex, admiring how beautiful you look out of breath and disheveled.

He feels your legs shaking. He can tell you're close.

"Are you gonna come for me, love? I want to hear you say my name. Remember who’s taking you.”

You can barely nod as you chase your orgasm, focusing on his movements. Taking him all into you. Memorizing how he feels and how he makes you feel.

Your body ceases and you gasp as your orgasm crashes over you, like a tidal wave. Your veins are full of electricity. You’re seeing stars. You hold onto him while you repeat his name, over ad over again. Music to his ears. Spike holds you, never stopping his fierce thrusts. He wants you to remember who is claiming you.

"Good girl" he litters your face with kisses as you work to regain your breath.

Spike never slows down, chasing his own high. Seeing you spent and tired knowing that he caused it makes him inch closer. He continues to thrust in you, sending aftershock ripples into you as he finds his own release. He fills you to the brim with his seed. He makes you his.

You both stay connected. Breathing heavy. Satiated and in awe. He eventually pulls out of you with a little shiver. He lays down by your side pulling you close to him. You're both silly with pleasure, spent and happy.

"Wow." Was all you could say.

"There's more where that came from. Rest up, because we have a lot of catching up to do."

You giggle, giddy for what your future with Spike holds. To think, all of these restless nights craving him and all you had to do was confess your love. You knew once the sun rises you’ll be tired and sore. Something that you’re looking forward to.

#buffy the vampire slayer #william the bloody #btvs #spike btvs #spike #buffy x spike #spike x you #spike x y/n #spike x yn #spike the bloody #spike imagine #buffyverse #spike x reader

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 months ago

Text

Chapter 2- Awakening

Summary: There was once a time in his life where knocking on your front door was the best part of Frankie's day. Now, the thought of having to ring your doorbell to face you makes him sick to his stomach.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (no use of y/n, reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: (the tiniest hint of) smut (18+), illusions to masturbation (m), angst/regret, fluff, awkward adolescent yearning (I have quickly come to learn this is my favorite thing to write whoops), Frankie realizing he's caught a case of the ✨feelings ✨ and doesn't know what to do

A/N: Less than 10K word chapters?!? Posting a series on a schedule?!?! I don't even know who I am anymore?!?! AH, thank you guys for all your sweet words about this series so far. Writing this has sparked such a joy inside me, and it means so much that y'all are willing to read my silly lil story 🥺💛 This chapter is from Frankie's POV- I know the first chapter had both reader and Frankie, but as I've been writing, it seems like it fits the story better if some are both POV's and some are just one!

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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Frankie, Present

“Bring these next door.”

His mother doesn’t even ponder the idea of phrasing it as a question when she practically drops the plate of chocolate chip cookies into Frankie’s lap.

“Ma, it’s 7:30 in the morning.” Frankie looks up at her dumbfounded.

“And? You’ve never eaten a cookie for breakfast when you’re sad? Go now, they’re still warm.”

There’s no way he’ll be able to head anywhere but straight out his front door, but Christ, he at least hoped he would have been able to buy himself a little time before having to face you.

“I just got back from a run. I smell like shit. Can I at least shower first, por favor?”

“Fine,” she groans, reluctant to give in so easily, “but be quick. Don’t think I won’t turn the hot water off, mijo. I don’t want these getting cold.”

She knows her son would take an hour long shower if he could. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’s spent way too long in the bathroom, over analyzing every inch of himself before going to see you. His mom isn’t sure if she should thank you or not for her son’s dedication to hygiene. She could barely get him to shower for the first 10 years of his life, but after you moved in, a few days before the start of 6th grade, bathing had magically no longer become an issue.

Frankie understands her threat of an ice cold shower is very real, and a very effective way to finally get him four doors down. He lets the hot water wash over his skin, turning it to a temperature that’s almost too painful to stand. He hopes that somehow, it’s hot enough to wash away all the sins he’s prayed you’d forgive him for, that the regret of every poor decision he’s been plagued by washes down the drain, disappearing never to be seen again.

He wishes it was that easy. That a simple shower would grant him the forgiveness he’s not sure you’ll ever give him. He wouldn’t blame you if you never did.

He forces himself to put on the first pair of shorts and t-shirt that he pulls out of his suitcase. If he doesn’t, he’ll be stuck in his room for the rest of the day trying to figure out what to wear to bring a plate of cookies to your doorstep.

“You should apologize, you know.” It’s the first thing his mom has to say to him as he makes his way down the stairs, barely three steps into the kitchen before she’s at his throat again.

“For bringing them dessert at 7:30 in the morning? I was planning on it.” Frankie huffs, trying to deflect the plan for the real apology he knows he should be making.

“Dios mio, Francisco, you know what I mean. I hope you’ve thought about how you’re going to explain yourself to her. You owe that girl an apology for the hell you’ve put her through.”

Frankie can’t blame his mother for the way she’s twisting the knife that’s stuck in his gut. He’s the one who put it there in the first place.

“I know. I’ve thought about it, believe me.”

They both know that’s the truth. Frankie’s spent more hours than he can count thinking about what possible combination of words he can string together that won’t make you hate him anymore than you already do. In fact, he’s spent so long thinking about it, replaying the million and one things he could say to you over and over in his head, that he’s convinced there’s nothing he could tell you that would buy him even a shred of forgiveness.

“Fuck you, Mackenzie. Fuck you for ruining my life. It’ll be better off without you fucking in it.”

Three years ago, he disappeared out of your life and those were the last words he left you with. He's spent three years of letting the last thing he had to say you haunt him like some sort of ugly ghost he can't forget.

At this point, there's a part of him that's not even sure he's worthy of forgiveness.

“Mom?” Frankie asks, eyes peeled to the ground, trying to keep his voice from breaking, “Am I making a huge fucking mistake coming back here?”

“Well mijo,” She pauses, gently cradling her son’s face, lifting his chin enough to let his tired, worn eyes meet hers, “That, I cannot tell you. Some things you have to figure out on your own. I think this is one of them. But what I can tell you,” she stops again, ensuring Frankie is listening, really listening to what she has to say, “is that you have never been one to leave things unfinished. I think there are still things left to finish here for you, Francisco.”

The slow nod of his head in her palm tells her he’s heard every word. He knows he needs to finish what he’s started.

“You also need to finish bringing these cookies to the Andersons, sí? Don’t think I forgot.”

“Didn’t think you would.”

Frankie’s not sure the walk to your house has ever felt this long. Every step against the pavement makes his feet feel heavier, weighing his body down, its final attempt at keeping him from showing up at your front door. It takes every ounce of strength he has left to get him there, but he does. He won’t himself fail you again. He can’t.

When he knocks on your door, he’s suddenly 11 years old, palms sweating and heart racing as he rings your doorbell for the first time, hoping the cool girl who moved in down the street still wants to play football with him.

Right now, he’d give anything to be that 11 year old boy again. God, what he’d give to grab little him by the shoulders and shake all of the stupid decisions he plans on making in the years to come right out of him. He’d give anything for someone to come shake the stupid out of him now.

Seconds pass like hours as he waits for someone to answer his knock. Maybe it won’t be you who does. Maybe he’ll get lucky and it'll be your mom. Maybe your dad, who is sitting on his literal deathbed, will be blessed with some divine miracle that grants him the strength to get up and answer the door instead of you.

“Be right there!”

He’d recognize your voice anywhere. It’s been three years since he’s heard it. Even with all the time that’s passed, there’s not a doubt in his mind he knows it’s yours.

Fuck, he’s missed the sound of you more than he’d ever like to admit.

He braces himself as the lock clicks on the other side of the door. The knot in his stomach tightens as he watches it open.

His heart wants to burst out of his chest when you finally appear on the other side.

“F-Frankie?”

“Hi, Mackenzie.”

Frankie, Fall of 2002, Age 14

It’s been 3 years, and Frankie still rings your doorbell every time he’s at your front door. Both you and your parents have been more than adamant he’s welcome to let himself in, at this point, they leave the door unlocked just for him.

As much as he wants to just slip through the front door unannounced to see you, he knows his mom would kill him if he didn’t wait to be let in and make his presence known.

“Francisco, I do not care how often you are over there, you are a guest in their home. If they are gracious enough to let you over, the least you can do is use your manners and greet them at the door.”

Frankie’s always been polite, but the world would stop spinning before his mother would let anyone else even have an inkling of thinking otherwise.

Truth be told, he doesn’t mind. He’d be hard pressed to find any 14 year old who didn’t have some sort of complaint about their parents, but you never really do, and he can see why.

They’re your parents, and he loves his mamá more than life, but the Anderson’s had taken Frankie under their wing from the moment he had crossed the threshold from their patio to their living room and never looked back.

It didn’t take long for the three toned chime of your doorbell to become the favorite part of his daily routine.

“Hi Frankie! Come on in, honey.”

Mrs. Anderson has that soft kind of sweetness that would make anyone’s day brighter, the kind of gentleness that a gardener has when tending to a field of their favorite flowers. She’s the type of person that would put anyone before herself, to a fault. It’s no wonder that given the circumstances, a house that should be shrouded in sadness is one of the places that Frankie feels the happiest.

“Thanks Mrs. Anderson. Can I put this in the freezer for Kenz? I figured she may want it when she gets home later.” Frankie gestures down to the chocolate chip cookie dough Blizzard he’s holding, trying to keep it from melting any further.

It’s become a sacred ritual that every Friday night, you and him ride your bikes to the Dairy Queen two miles down the road. He always gets an Oreo Blizzard, you, a chocolate chip cookie dough one. On the few Friday nights you can’t spend together, it’s an unspoken agreement that a Blizzard will still end up in the other’s freezer for the next day. It’s only happened once that a cookie dough Blizzard hasn’t been found in your residence within 24 hours of the start to your weekend- the one time Frankie was out of town to visit his family, you were pleasantly surprised to find not one, but two Blizzards in your freezer on Monday night upon his return.

“Frank the Tank! How’s it going, buddy?”

It’s always nice to see your dad up and around the house. His cancer has taken a lot of things from him, but his personality certainly isn’t one of them. Some bouts of chemo and treatment are worse than others, but it never ceases to keep Mr. Anderson from being the happiest man Frankie’s ever met. You always tease Frankie that he comes over to your house so often just so he can spend time with your dad. While of course it’s not 100% true that Doug Anderson is the only reason Frankie finds himself at your doorstep nearly every day, he also won’t deny the sense of comfort it brings him that your dad treats him like his own son.

“Hi Mr. Anderson!” Frankie smiles, shoving your Blizzard in the top left corner of your freezer between the ice packs and frozen vegetables.

“Another Blizzard for me? Always so generous, Frank. I’m convinced you might start running a Dairy Queen out of our kitchen pretty soon.” Mr. Anderson teases, giving Frankie a light punch to the shoulder. “How’d your algebra test go the other day, bud?”

“Pretty good, I think.” Frankie shrugs, trying to play off his confidence.

“Think you got a higher score than Kenzie?”

“I think so. But don’t tell her that.”

“Oh believe me, I will. Smart kid like you has gotta put her in her place every once and a while.”

Frankie blushes. School has never been his strong suit. He’s smart in the way he could fix just about anything from the time he could barely walk, but sitting in a classroom trying to absorb information through reading, taking notes and test taking has always made him feel like an idiot. You, on the other hand, could graduate in your sleep with straight A’s. He’s not sure how you do it, but it’s enough motivation to make him want to at least try. He thanks his lucky stars that this year, math is finally starting to make sense, and he’s got the upper hand on you for now.

“Is Kenz upstairs? I know she’s got her soccer banquet tonight, I just wanted to hang out for a little before she has to go.”

Normally he wouldn’t mind staying longer to talk to your dad, but on days he knows he’s working on a limited time table, efficiency is of the essence.

“Should be. If not, we have a problem on our hands.”

Frankie scurries from the kitchen and through the living room, up the familiar and well traveled path to your bedroom door. His heart always races a little faster every time he reaches the top step to the second floor.

Normally, it’s three long strides to cross the threshold into your bedroom before he plops himself on the edge of your bed, but as he takes a left turn at the top of the stairwell, he’s surprised to find your bedroom door is closed, and locked.

“Kenz! It’s me! Open up!” Frankie raps his fist on the back of your door, knuckles thumping against the wood.

“Not now, Frankie!”

He’s taken aback by your protest, scrunching his brow at your response and the distress in your voice through the other end of the door.

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asks, now a little more concerned.

“It’s just- Ugh! It’s nothing! It’s stupid, okay! I just don’t have time for this right now!”

You and him both know that’s not enough to get him to leave. Frankie is persistent. He’s not going anywhere until you open that door and he gets an answer as to what’s making you so upset.

“C’mon, MacKenzie.”

He only pulls the full name card for serious occasions, because he knows it’ll work. It’ll work every time. That’s why he can’t help but smirk at the click of your door handle unlocking, giving him permission to step inside.

Except he can’t.

“Kenz, get off the door and let me in!”

“I’m not on the door! Ugh, hold on.”

With the force Frankie was using, he nearly falls flat on his face as the barricade you’d built on your side of the door is removed, stumbling into your room and landing face first in a pile of clothes. As he looks up, he’s greeted with a sight he’s never once seen before in your room, and he has no idea what to make of it.

“Jesus Christ, dude, what happened in here?!”

To say a bomb had exploded in your closet would have been a polite way to put it. Every piece of clothing you owned was now a casualty on your bedroom floor, down to every last pair of shoes. You could barely stand to have a singular, stray sock on the ground, your bedroom always the near picture perfect scene of immaculately neat. So to see the disaster your room had become, Frankie knew that something had gone very, very wrong.

“I don’t have anything to wear for tonight!”

“Yeah you do, have you seen all the clothes on your floor? I think you have enough clothes for a small village.”

“Francisco!”

If she’s already pulling the full name card on him too, it must be serious.

“Sorry! Is this because of the end of the season soccer party tonight? I thought you said you were just gonna wear like, a skirt or something?”

Frankie’s never even contemplated the idea of you being upset over an outfit. You’d always been amicable in the wardrobe department- t-shirt, shorts, sneakers, same has him. This is uncharted territory for the both of you.

“Yeah, but then at lunch today Katie and Morgan said all of the Seniors want to dress up, like, really nice, and now I’m freaking out because I don’t know what to wear and I don’t wanna look like an idiot Freshman who shows up in something dumb.”

Frankie knows you’re stressed from how intensely you’re picking at the skin around your nails, leg bouncing furiously while your eyes dart around the room at the heaps of clothes stacked around the floor.

“You’re not gonna look dumb, Kenzie. You’re the only Freshman that’s made the Varsity soccer team in like, a million years. Hard to look stupid if you’re that good.”

It may not be much help, but it’s at least enough to bring you off the brink of tears.

“I guess,” you pause, too stubborn to admit that he’s right, “It’s just- all the other girls on the team are so pretty. When we’re playing it doesn’t matter ‘cause we’re all sweaty and gross, but- I don’t know, I feel like I’m gonna look so awkward next to everyone.”

But you are pretty.

It’s the first thought that pops into Frankie’s brain. He’s not sure how it got there so fast. All of a sudden he feels a hundred degrees hotter, hoping you won’t notice the way he visibly tries to shake the thought out of his head..

Where did that come from? She’s your friend, Frankie. Your best friend. She’s not pretty, she’s just MacKenzie.

“You won’t look awkward, you’re gonna be fine. I promise.” He’s relieved his response doesn’t seem to raise any suspicions, like you would have been able to read his mind and watch his thinking play out in real time.

“If I um- If I- Never mind, this is stupid! Ugh, this is stupid.”

You’re pacing now, arms crossed so tightly over your chest, he’s worried you’re going to squeeze your own eyes out like one of those little squishy toys you win from a claw machine. That’s if you don’t burn a hole in your carpet first.

“What?”

“If I-” You stammer again, scrunching your face at your own frustration, “If I try on what I think I should wear, will you tell me if it looks dumb or not?”

You’ve asked Frankie plenty for plenty of favors in the three years you’ve known him- being the one to lead the two of you home on a bike ride in the dark, opening your pudding for you at lunch because it exploded on you once and you’re terrified it will again, catching the giant spider that makes a recurrence in the top right corner of your bedroom and throwing it out the window- He’s not sure why out of all those things, this is the most terrifying favor you’d ever asked of him.

“Y-yeah. Okay.”

The two of you quietly nod at each other for a moment, Frankie hoping that he’s not the only one who’s wondering why the air has all of a sudden seemed to have gotten thicker.

“Okay. Well, um- turn around.” You point for him to take his usual spot on the edge of the bed, ensuring that his back’s to you and eyes only have the choice to roam the floor or the wall above your desk before he hears the shuffling of clothes behind him.

It’s then that everything starts to move in slow motion, like a flip has suddenly switched in Frankie’s brain as a wave of unsolicited thoughts begin to flood his head, feeling himself drown in the panic and confusion that’s washing over him.

What if he did turn around? You’re probably taking off your clothes right now. Are you in just your underwear? What color is it? Maybe you’re all the way naked. What would you look like? Why does he all of a sudden want to know so bad? What’s wrong with him?

In his manic state, his eyes are darting everywhere, trying to find something to lock onto that will shake him from whatever obscene cycle of thought he’s caught himself in. He instantly regrets when he lets his gaze fall to his feet, because peeking out of the pile of clothes beneath him is the better part of a bra.

Your bra.

He feels so awful that he can’t stop looking at it. So guilty that he can’t help the fact he’s trying to commit every detail of it to his brain- the teal and green polka dots, the thin lace that covers the shoulder strap, the little bow that sits in between the two cups where your breasts would go. He can’t stop staring. He can’t stop thinking about what you would look like in it. The only thing that stops him is hearing your voice from over his shoulder. And somehow, your voice only makes his chest feel tighter.

“You promise you won’t make fun of me if I look stupid?” Your words are so soft, delicate and fragile in a way he’s never heard you use them before. However scared you are, right now, Frankie would be willing to take that feeling and triple it for himself.

“Promise.”

His eyes are still closed when he swings his legs over the other edge of the bed. He’s too afraid to open them.

“You’re gonna have to open your eyes, unless you’ve suddenly obtained x-ray vision that you haven’t told me about in the last thirty seconds.”

The way you tease him grounds him enough to give in. It doesn’t ground him enough from leaving him speechless the moment he opens his eyes.

“Kenz… You uh, you- um-”

He’s stumbling over his words, trying to find them fast enough to stop the disappointment that’s flooding over your face because you think he hates the way you look. That couldn’t be farther from the truth.

“I look dumb, don’t I? It’s fine, Frankie, you can just say it.” You’re back to pacing again, storming around your room with a desperate, crazed look in your eye. “Ugh! This sucks! Why is this so hard, I just wanna-”

“You look really pretty.”

It stops you dead in your tracks. He can almost hear how hard you gulp, looking back at him like a deer in headlights.

“W-what?”

You ask it like you didn’t hear exactly what he said. He knows you did. You always do. It doesn’t stop him from trying to twist his words to help him out of the hole he’s already dug himself into.

“Your- Your dress. It looks really nice. You should wear it.”

He’s not sure how much time passes as the two of you finally lock eyes. Thirty seconds? Ten minutes? An hour? The way you’re looking at him right now is enough to make his world stop turning. It only makes it worse that he swears he can see your lips trying to fight the smile that’s slowly curling in the corner of your mouth.

“MacKenzie! We need to go, sweetie! Dad and I will meet you in the car!”

Frankie doesn’t know if it’s divine intervention or a devilish curse that your mom is calling for you from the bottom of the stairs. Whatever it is, it’s enough to snap both of you out of the strange spell that had overcome your bedroom and make Frankie feel like the only appropriate response was to race out of your house and hide in embarrassment for the next forty-eight hours.

“I should um- I should go, too. Santi’s probably waiting for me at his house. Have fun tonight, okay?”

“Yeah, o-okay. You have fun, too. Tell Ding Dong I say hi. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.”

Frankie’s in a trance the rest of the night. Physically, he spends the next few hours in Santi’s basement, glued to the couch while his friend yells at him that he’s not using the right combination of moves to max out his points in Tony Hawk Pro Skater 3. Mentally, he’s convinced he no longer exists on the same planet as anyone else around him.

When he gets home, all he can do is stare at his ceiling. If he closes his eyes to try to fall asleep, the only thing he can see is that teal and green bra laying on your bedroom floor.

He wishes the thought of you in it didn’t make his stomach churn. He wishes it wasn’t you he was picturing when he lets his hand creep below the waistband of his sweatpants. He wishes it wasn’t your name he was muttering under his breath as he makes a mess in hand, hips stuttering into his grasp.

He wishes it wasn’t you.

At least that’s what he tells himself. Maybe one day, it’ll work.

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hayakawalove · 2 months ago

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Let's Go All the Way

Summary: Celebrating your first year anniversary with Aki by finally having sex.

A/N: Now, I realize this isn't a kink. It was one of the results when I was searching which prompts to use for Kinktober, so I just went with it. If you're interested in any of the fics I've posted and want to see a more in depth version, tell me! Thank you to JuicyT on archive of our own for beta-ing this and helping me figure out what parts to bulk up. Her work is amazing, please check her out! I haven't written Aki a ton, so I'm still trying to find my voice for him. I was a bit worried this was too brief, but I like how it turned out. Comments are appreciated!

CW: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Virginity, Loss of Virginity, Cunnilingus, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, Creampie, Gender Neutral Reader, AFAB Reader W/C: 1,744

Credit to cafekitsune for the banner

“Yeah, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Aki responds, speaking directly into his phone as he starts his car.

Today was your anniversary. Today was your anniversary, and he was stuck working. He tried to get it off, he really did. You reassured him it wasn’t a problem, with that easy going smile of yours. Of course that didn’t stop him. He still requested the day off, but his boss said no. His boss told him to only come in for a ‘couple of hours’, but a couple of hours turned into a couple more hours. Now Aki was stuck in rush hour traffic trying to make his way home to you.

It was your first anniversary, and it just had to get spoiled. It pissed him off. He’s really happy with you, and wanted to show that. He’s never been so happy before. Everything was perfect with you. The comfort you felt with each other was unmeasurable. You could do anything together.

Well, almost anything.

You and Aki hadn’t gone ‘all the way’ yet. It’s never bothered him before. He’s told you that he doesn’t mind. Because he doesn’t. He’s okay with waiting until you’re ready.

That being said, Aki has noticed you warming up to the idea lately. You’re more reluctant to pull away after kissing, and your eyes linger a bit longer than they used to after he showers. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s driving him crazy.

Aki’s good at restraining himself, so he keeps his hands to himself while he waits.

Aki pulls up to his driveway after a long drive home. He feels a surge of anxiety rush through his system. He wasn’t anxious about seeing you, he was anxious that he had ruined everything. Even if he had, you probably wouldn’t tell him, which only made him worry more.

He slots his key in the door and pushes it open, his shoulders sagging once he notices your shoes by the entryway. Aki grins softly to himself, and takes his own off before walking further into the house. You aren’t here. You told him that you were, but the house is completely empty as he investigates. Aki calls out your name, and looks in each room until there’s only one left. His room.

“Are you in here?” He asks, opening the door.

The lights are dim and he can see your frame sitting against the bed. You’re anxious, he notices. Your fingers are twirling against each other and you’re biting the insides of your cheeks.

You’re almost naked.

The realization takes a moment to hit Aki, but once it does it feels like a semi truck to his face. He quickly turns around, facing the door.

“Sorry! I didn’t know you were in here.” His heart is beating hard.

Boom. Boom. Boom.

He can hear it in his ears, he can feel the pounding in the tips of his fingers.

A melodic tune floats over to Aki, the sound of your laughter he realizes, before the creaking of the bed. You get to your feet and walk over towards him, reaching a hand out to grab his shoulder. You turn him around, and reluctantly he lets you.

He tries to keep his eyes focused on your face, but he can feel the magnet pull of your body, making his eyes want to wonder.

“No Aki, I want you to look.” You murmur. “I want to celebrate our anniversary.”

Aki’s throat is dry, drier than when he smokes several cigarettes in a row. He’s just a man, so his eyes instantly flick down to your body. The sight nearly brings him to his knees.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” You reach out and pull him towards you, bringing your face to his.

Your lips are sweeter than he remembered. His hands find their way to your waist, where he squeezes you. The cool feeling of your skin sends a shiver up his spine.

The two of you walk backwards while intertwined until you reach the bed. This is too good to be true. Aki can feel his cock hardening, the sensation almost painful. You sit down, scooting back until you’re laying on the bed. He crawls on top, his lips still interlocked with yours.

“I’ll go slow.” He speaks against your mouth.

You pull away and look up at him, your teeth dug into your bottom lip. Aki gazes at your body again, the low light shining against your skin. You’re perfect. Each part of your body leaves him reeling, the sight of you is almost too much.

Aki places a kiss on your neck, trailing down until he reaches your thighs. When he glances up he notices that you’re fumbling with your bra, tearing it from your person.

“Fuck…” Aki murmurs to himself when he catches sight of your breasts.

He slips his fingers beneath your underwear, moving slow so as to give you time to say no. When you don’t, he pulls them all the way down. You spread your legs for him and look away in embarrassment.

“You’re beautiful.” He says earnestly.

Aki kisses your thigh once more before moving in, his lips finding their way to your pussy. You groan the second his tongue touches you. He doesn’t know which of your lips are sweeter. Aki drags his tongue down, sliding it against your clit. You’re already wet. Were you anticipating this? Were you thinking about this while he was driving home to you?

Aki dives in headfirst. His mouth never leaves, tongue alternating between flicking against your clit and hole. You moan, body writhing beneath him. He’s focused on giving you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. He’s dreamt of this day for months, so he plans on enjoying it.

Aki sucks on your clit, his eyes trained on your face as you moan. You’re getting antsy, he can tell by the way your body is thrashing around. You run your hands through his hair, signaling that you have something to say.

“I don’t wanna wait any longer. Need to feel you in me.” Desperation drips from your words.

Aki’s eyes roll back in his head, he thinks he could cum just from the sound of your voice. Warily, he pulls away from your pussy and sits up. There will be more time to indulge in the taste later.

He tosses his shirt off and unbuckles his pants, slipping his cock out as soon as he can. He can feel the heat of your gaze on his body, and it makes him nervous. He hopes you like what you see.

Aki leans into you, pressing his lips against yours. You moan once you taste yourself on his tongue. His cock is sitting against you, precum dripping from his slit.

“Ready?” He asks, tone uneven.

He wets his lips as he looks down at you, searching for any sign of apprehension. Instead, you look thrilled. A bit anxious, sure, but your eyes are bright and there’s a smile on your lips.

“Ready.” You wrap your arms around his neck.

Aki presses his cock into your heat, his brows furrowing as he feels your pussy begin to envelop him. He’s keeping a close eye on your face, waiting to see if you’re in pain.

“Fuck, Aki.” You groan, your thighs tightening on either side of him.

“Doing so good, sweetheart.” He murmurs, attempting to keep his tone steady.

The sounds of your moans bleed together, the noise bouncing off the walls. Aki’s going slow, even though his cock is practically screaming at him for more. It’s so wet, he can’t concentrate. A mixture of your juices and his saliva wrap around his cock as he sinks in more.

Your fingers dig into his back, while your pussy greedily takes him in. It takes a couple of moments before he’s finally all the way in. Both of you look down in amazement, watching where the two of you connect. Aki’s taking measured breaths, using all of his willpower to not cum immediately.

“Doing okay?” He asks, genuine in his worry.

“Yeah, yes-“ you sound needy.

“I’ll start now.” He places one more kiss against your lips before he pulls back.

Aki lets his cock slip from your hole until only the tip is left. He can see the reflection of the wetness surrounding his cock, and it makes him dizzy. Aki pauses for a second before pushing back into you carefully, your walls immediately clinging to him.

You’re doing so good for him. Aki drowns you in praises as he begins to fuck you.

He lets the dull scratch of your nails ground him while he pounds into you. His eyes are closed, and he’s mesmerized by the sound of you. He knows he could make it even better for you.

Aki reaches down and rubs against your clit with his middle finger. Immediately you react, arching into him as he rubs it.

“Aki.” You moan.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, causing his breathing to stutter. If you keep doing that, he won’t last long.

“What is it, baby?”

“Don’t stop, don’t stop.” You whine.

He could never dream of stopping.

Aki fucks into you while rubbing your clit. He can tell you’re close by the sounds you’re letting out.

He pushes into you one more time, causing you to let out a moan. Your pussy grips onto his cock as you cum. He holds you down, even while you writhe beneath him.

“Where do you-“ Aki asks, with a sense of urgency in his tone.

“Inside Aki, inside.”

He groans as his hips still, white cum filling you up. Labored breathing fills the room, the sounds of love and arduous work taking place in between you two. There’s a new shine in your eyes that’s hard to miss. It fills Aki with a deep sense of satisfaction. He feels so lucky that you wanted to do this with him. Aki places a kiss on your cheek as he slides out, apologizing when you wince.

“How are you feeling?” Aki brushes a piece of your bangs from your face.

You give a toothy grin, one that makes Aki’s brain malfunction.

“So good. Thank you.” Your fingers twirl a piece of his hair.

He isn’t sure why you’re the one thanking him. If anything, he should be thanking you.

“You did it baby. I love you.”

You smile and pull him down.

“I love you too.”

#my writing #aki x reader #aki hayakawa x reader #hayakawa x reader #aki x you #aki hayakawa x you #hayakawa x you #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #chainsaw man x you #csm x you #chainsaw man #csm

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aliceintheworld · 1 month ago

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PURE ATTRACTION | JJK | TATTOO ARTIST

Pairing: TattooArtistJungkook X NaiveReader

Summary: "I shouldn’t be watching a man undressing, specially not from the house next door."

Warning: Angst 🥺 conversation about suicide, depression, uncertainty about oneself, Misuk being the best character of all 🫶 Namjoon finally makes an appearance (he appears a little, but then a little more, I promise) Jungkook being an idiot – forgive him, for he doesn't know what he's doing.

A/N: I'm back!! First, I wanted to thank you all for the affection I've been receiving. Thank you so much for the messages and interactions! If you want to send non-anonymous messages, I even prefer it, because I can follow you 🥰 Pure Attraction is a not very elaborate story, I know, but it has become an important part of my life, so I thank you for reading all these chapters, you don't know how much this means. Without further ado, here is the chapter.

P.S.: Later, still today, I will post the next chapter 🤌

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Chapter 10

The journey back home has never felt so long. Minutes pass, yet it feels as if the clock's hands are stuck. I try to take a deep breath, but I can't. My head is filled with memories, occasions when I could have done something different. I was so foolish, so stupid. Filled with regret, I can't even look at myself in the reflection of the window. I remember my father, my mother, and I wonder what they would say if they knew I made a mistake with no way to turn back. My eyes fill with tears, almost instantly, for the fourth time today alone. Mrs. Jeon remains silent, looking through the coffee table of her house.

She sighs and gaze at her own hands before locking eyes with me, as if she understands me in some way. But I don’t know if anyone could comprehend what I’m going through at this moment. I feel... used. As if, even with my consent, Jungkook took advantage of me, of my innocence and of my inexperience. At the same time, I can't place all the blame on him. I made a mistake, I should have been more cautious and I let him inside of my life.

"Are you okay?" Misuk asks, almost in a whisper. I try to shake my head and force a smile, but I can't. She sways her hair and clicks her tongue nervously. "I can't believe Jungkook did this to you, dear. He’s my son, but I don’t agree with any of this."

"He’s not the only one to blame," I deny; I barely recognize my own voice, weak and trembling.

The last time I saw myself this way was when, during a difficult year, I didn't want to visit my father's grave, and my mother opposed it. The anguish is different, but equally overwhelming.

"Can you explain how you two got so… close?" she questions. "I mean, it hasn’t been long since he came to Busan. Did you have many opportunities to talk?"

"A few." I shrug. That doesn’t matter now. I’m angry and don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to lock myself in my room and pretend everything was a terrible nightmare. "Sorry, I don't even know where to begin. I feel awful."

"You can talk to me."

"You’re his mother."

"I am." She smiles, placing a hand on mine, gently caressing my skin. I immediately feel a maternal love and care I haven’t experince in years. My crying intensifies as I realize that the person I need right now isn’t with me—my mother. Even if she were here, she wouldn’t help. She would judge me, make me feel bad about my mistakes, just as she has done in the past, and I don't need this right now. "Y/N, I’m Jungkook’s mother, but I understand what you’re going through. You have no idea."

"What do you mean?" I frown, confused. Her dark eyes fill with tears, just like mine.

"When I was around your age, I fell in love with a man. He was two years older, and so handsome. He seemed like a dream, someone so different from me, yet so similar—almost like he was a part of me." She tells me looking ahead, as if she could see the memories playing out before her. "He is Jungkook’s father. He was my first love."

"What do you mean?" I whisper. "Mr. Jeon isn’t Jungkook’s father?"

"He isn’t." She shakes her head. "That’s why I say I understand you. It was the first time I fell in love with someone. It was also the first time my trust was broken. When he found out I was pregnant, he left. I was alone, working a part-time job I didn’t even like, that paid poorly and had no support. Those were the worst years of my life."

"Misuk, I don’t know what to say," I respond, with a knot in my throat. She had never shared this while we talked about the past. But I understand her, in a way. It must be hard to relive those memories, and even harder to confide them to someone.

"You don’t have to say anything. I, after all this time, have moved on. The fear of being abandoned, however, still hasn’t healed, even with twenty-six years gone by." She smiles again, but I know she’s more hurt than she wants to show. "Dear, I care about you. I love you like a daughter, even. You’ve been with me during these days, and we’ve grown so close. I see parts of myself in you. The way my mother treated me, the absence of my father. It’s all so similar. That’s why I say I understand you."

"It all happened so… suddenly." I comment to myself, looking down. The shame of crying, and the shame of what I did, prevent me from looking her in the eyes. "I know I should have been more careful, but I was so happy... I don't get it."

"Jungkook, being more experienced than you, should have talked to you, asked what your expectations were, and told you what his intentions were. If he didn’t want something serious, a commitment, he should have warned you." She argues, not letting me continue. It’s as if she wants to lift the guilt I’m feeling, and I'm really thankful for that.

"Yes, but I was so naive. I was a fool to think he could like me the same way I like him." I groan, covering my face as more tears come. My chest hurts just remembering him. His kisses, his touches. He was so gentle with me, treating me like no one else ever had. He listened to me, and that was enough for me.

"Did you... did you have sex?" Misuk asks, running her hand along my back in a comforting gesture that soothes my pain, at least a little.

"I-I... Misuk..."

"It’s okay. You can trust me. You can open up and tell me." She smiles, without judgment. I just shake my head embarrassed, exposed, somewhat humiliated.

"We did it last night. It was very sudden." I try to explain, even if I don’t have many words to do it.

"Was it your first time? Is that why Eunji thinks you slept at my house? She said that yesterday, and I didn’t understand."

"Yes, but that night was the first time I slept at his apartament and we hadn’t done... you know."

"You hadn’t had sex, just other things." She concludes with a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

My cheeks burn, even when I try not to. It’s very difficult to talk about this kind of subject, even with Misuk, because I never had anyone to talk to when I was a teenager. My view of sex always came from books, whether educational or romantic.

"That’s it." I confirm, shaking my head.

"Are you in love?" Mrs. Jeon asks me when a silence falls between us.

I take a moment, reflecting about the question as if it were the most difficult one of my life. What does it mean to be in love? Is it feeling a flutter in your chest every time you see the person? Is it having a wild rush of energy that courses through your body uncontrollably? Is it standing still and feeling your heart race a thousand miles an hour? Is it missing that person and wanting to hear from them every day? If that’s the case, then yes, I’m in love. The realization of this fact hurts me even more. It makes me feel weaker. How could I be so foolish? How could I think someone would be interested in me when no one else had?

A flood of memories overwhelms me. If I had known I’d feel this pain, I would have never gotten close to Jungkook. I would have shut my window the first time I saw him, and never opened up again.

"It’s okay." She reassures me, hugging me. I hug her back, trying to purge the feeling of rejection that’s almost lodged in my chest.

"He just turned his back on me. He didn’t even see me when I left. It’s as if he got what he wanted and then I wasn’t worth the effort anymore." I vent, hurt, too wounded to stop the words pouring out.

"Jungkook is a fool." She shakes her head, pressing her lips together. "At the same time, he’s stuck in this messed-up relationship. I’ve told him millions of times that they’re not good for each other. I told him that true love doesn’t hurt, doesn’t deceive, but he’s stubborn like no one else."

"Does he really talk to his ex?" I ask, hoping it’s not as I imagine. That maybe they talk, but not as much as I’ve put in my head.

"The last time we talked about this was two days ago. He told me Namjoon called him, and they had a conversation for twenty minutes. He’s very deluded." She shakes her head, angry. Two days ago we were texting. I know we had no commitment and hadn’t established anything, but to me it’s worse to know he didn’t respect this moment. That it didn’t mean anything to him. While I melted over our messages and smiled like a fool for his attention, he was with his ex, doing the same with someone else.

"Did Namjoon really cheat on Jungkook? Why does he still try? Why does he still talk to him?"

"Namjoon was his first boyfriend. They were together for almost five years, and at one point, they practically lived together. When Jungkook was alone in Seoul, working in a tattoo studio, he met Namjoon and fell in love almost at first sight. He was very shy, introverted, with few friends in the new city. I think that helped them form a strong connection." Misuk explains. She seems to know a lot about the situation, as if she followed everything in detail, even from a distance.

"Have you ever met him... I mean, have you met Namjoon?" I ask, hesitant. My heart races for some reason. My hands feel cold with anxiety.

"Yes." She nods, sighing. "He’s a great guy, I can’t deny that. He works at a book publishing company, very intelligent and kind. I think that’s why Jungkook fell for him. At the same time, Namjoon is someone who wants more. He wants to achieve other things, and when the relationship got in the way of his goals, he didn’t think twice before stepping on everything they built together. Jungkook was devastated."

"How long ago was that?"

"About three months." She says; her body suddenly tenses. "That’s when I tried to take my own life."

"Mrs. Jeon... Jungkook told me what happened." I say, not really knowing if it’s right to tell her the truth. But it’s the first time she’s opened up about the subject, and I don’t think it’s fair, especially now that she told me so much about her past, to hide this from her. Her eyes widen, and then she smiles awkwardly.

"He really is an idiot. He must have told you to keep an eye on me." She says, shaking her head as if recalling her son’s actions, however she doesn't seen to hold any resentment towards him, regarding this. "He’s always been very careful. Always very protective. Jungkook has his flaws, but I think I understand why you fell for him. He’s stubborn but takes care of those he loves. I feel guilty for, even unknowingly, adding this weight to his shoulders. I’ve been feeling better now."

"Are you really okay?" I ask, somewhat uncertain.

"I am. I’m taking my medication, going to therapy, and visiting support groups once a week. Sometimes when I feel bad, I seek comfort. I know that ending my life isn’t an option. I don’t want to leave my son alone." She states. I search her eyes for any hint of untruth, anything that tells me she’s not okay, but I find nothing. I’m glad to know that, at least she, is evolving and improving. "But you know what’s making me feel better, Y/N?"

"What?" I ask, eager to know the answer. Whatever it is, I need an urgent dose of what is making her feel better.

"You." She smiles; more tears appear in her eyes, this time from happiness. "You’ve made my days better. I want you to know you can count on me. For everything." She confesses. Her voice deepens as I break down again.

"Thank you so much." I say sincerely. I have a friend. I have someone I can count on, and that brings me such a great relief that it feels like I could die.

"It’s okay. No more crying Y/N." She gets up from the couch, smiling. She raises her arms and wipes her face with her shirt. "Dear, tell me. Did you use protection? Did you take precautions?"

"No." I flush at the confession, feeling like a child who has no idea of the consequences of her actions. "He went out to buy a morning-after pill, but you arrived and..."

"It’s fine. Don’t worry." She holds her hands up, as if all of this doesn’t matter. "You don’t need to explain. I know that in the heat of the moment, you don’t think about anything. That’s why I had Jungkook when I was twenty." She laughs, making me feel even more embarrassed. "I’ll buy you a pill. Don’t worry; everything will be fine."

"Mrs. Jeon, you don’t have to. I'm going to do it."

"I don’t want to be a grandma so young, Y/N." She jokes, making me laugh too. "And it’s not a problem at all. I want to see you well, and that’s what matters."

"Thank you." I express my gratitude. Not just for the pill, but for everything. Even though it hurts, being here with her alleviates, at least a little, the torment I’m feeling.

"You don’t need to thank me. Everything will be okay." She assures me, and I accept it. I pray to God that all of this I’m feeling will soon come to an end.

"Y/N, what are you doing here?" I hear a voice behind me. I don’t look right away, afraid to fall.

Since the library shelves are very high, I usually use a mobile ladder to organize the books, so before I make sure who it is, I carefully step down the rungs. When I finally reach the ground, I regret coming down. It’s Hayun, Jungkook’s friend. Not because of her, of course, as I enjoyed meeting her, but because of him, who has kept me awake for the past three days.

"Are you okay? It’s been a while since we last saw each other." She smiles. She approaches and kisses my cheek suddenly. She seems to genuinely like me, and I’m grateful for that. Her outgoing personality couldn’t be better right now. My energy, ever since that argument happened, has been dwindling.

"I’m okay." I say, putting on my best smile. "And you? How have you been?"

"Busier every day. With the move and everything."

"You’re moving?" I ask, curious.

"Yes, didn’t Jungkook tell you?" She asks, and just the mention of his name makes my chest ache. The crying and tears have passed, but I’m far from normal with everything that happened. He hasn’t sent me any messages, and I can’t stop thinking that somehow, I was just a conquest for him. A night of sex that is already forgotten.

"No, he didn’t tell me. We haven’t... talked."

"Seriously? He’s been talking a lot about you." I raise an eyebrow, startled.

"What do you mean? What has he said?" The words fly out of my mouth before I can control myself. Hayun laughs, as if she notices my sudden interest.

"He says random things. That you like to read, or that you’re in college and you cook well. Random stuff like that." She comments, approaching one of the shelves to take a look at a book. "Anyway, I’m moving soon. Me and the guys, we’re all going to Seoul."

"With Jungkook?" I bite my lower lip, intrigued.

"Yeah, I’m from Seoul and wanted to go anyway, but we’ve been talking about everyone moving there for years. We were just waiting for Bora and Taehyung to finish college." She closes the book and puts it back, shrugging. I nod in agreement. Good for them. It feels like I’ll be the only one stuck here, stagnant for the rest of my life. I feel bad. I should make a list of topics I can’t discuss without feeling like a fraud. Damn it.

"That’s great... Hayun, I have to go now. I’m working. But it was nice to see you again." I say sincerely. It’s like seeing her again makes me a little closer to Jungkook. I don’t want to think about him, yet simultaneously, I can’t get enough of him. I’m going to go crazy.

"It was nice to see you too, really." She says, smiling. "I don’t want to bother you or anything, but before you go... I wanted to ask, are you going to the party tonight?"

"What party?" I frown, confused.

"The celebration. The studio opened, and we’re having a party at Yoongi’s house. It’ll be the last one before we move to Seoul. What do you think?" She grabs my arm, full of excitement. I shake my head immediately, flustered. Jungkook probably hasn’t told his friends what happened between us, and I don’t know if I should be sad or happy about that.

"I can’t, really." I respond, trying my best expression.

"Come on! Let’s go, Y/N, it’ll be fun. It’s for Jungkook. It’s important to him."

"It’s precisely because of him I’m not going." I whisper to her, softly. Hayun stops smiling and glares at me intently.

"Did something happen? You can tell me. Did the idiot do something to you?"

"He didn’t do anything." I half-lie, half-try to hide. Him sleeping with me while still talking to his ex isn’t exactly a huge thing. We hadn’t established anything serious yet. Though, in my head, he is wrong in any case.

"If he didn’t do anything, you should go. He’s really happy about the studio. He worked for about four years to save the money he needed."

"Hayun..." I sigh, embarrassed. "Actually, something did happen. I don’t think it’s a good idea for me to go. It’s to avoid ruining his night that I’m saying no." I finish, somewhat nervously. My body trembles with sadness and bitterness.

"Hey, you can count on me. I won’t tell the idiot anything you say. I’m a jerk, but not a bad friend." She rolls her eyes, clapping her hands together. I chuckle helplessly. She’s funny. I had forgotten this little detail.

"Alright, but I’ll be brief. I really need to get to work." I say. Hayun nods silently in agreement. "Jungkook and I did have a thing."

"I knew it!" She exclaims, in the middle of the hallway. Since it’s a library, her loud voice echoes throughout the place, drawing the attention of the few customers to us. I laugh in despair, covering my mouth with my hand. "Sorry, I spoke too loud. But I knew it! the way he talks about you... he likes you."

"I don’t think he likes me that much." I whisper, losing my smile. "He doesn’t want commitment, and that’s why we drifted apart. He still seems to care a lot about his ex."

"Namjoon." Hayun grunts his name without enthusiasm, rolling her eyes. Her once cheerful face, suddenly tightens. "I know. I liked him until I found out what he did to Jungkook. No one has spoken to him since."

"Yeah. Well. That’s why I think it’s better not to go. I want this to be a good moment for him, anyway. I don’t want to cause any discomfort." I vent, gathering my hands that get sweaty, every time I think about this topic. I have to swallow hard to avoid more tears and appearing like a fool in front of his friend.

"I still think you should go. You won’t ruin anyone’s night; I’m sure of that. And it's Yoongi’s house, it’s not like you can’t go." The brunette argues.

"Even so, the party is for him."

"Y/N, Jungkook won’t be in Busan for long. Don’t you think it’s better for you to talk, whether to end whatever it is you have, so you can both move on without resentment?" She suggests, making me think.

I shake my head for the tenth time in this conversation. I don’t know if it would be a good idea. It’s the first time I’ve ever had feelings for someone, and I don’t know if to end what I feel, I should talk to him. My romantic experiences are based on books, and in books, the heroines are never rejected. Just imagining even for a second, if I go to this party Jungkook will show discomfort or indifference, makes me panic. A strong shiver runs through my whole body with the thought.

"I don’t know if it’s a good idea." I reply, shrugging. Hayun sighs, tapping her boot on the wooden floor.

"Okay. Let’s do this: you’ll go. Stay for five minutes. If you see it’s better not to force things and forget all of this, I’ll take you home myself." She says, putting her hands together as if in prayer.

"You’re quite persistent, huh." I murmur, laughing. I roll my eyes, reflecting. Should I talk to him? Should I give myself a chance to hear him out and maybe understand his side? Even if we don’t end up together, and I end up sad, wouldn’t it be better to finish whatever it is we had, so I can move on?

For the past three days, all I could think about was him. There hasn’t been a single hour where I could relax, read, or watch something like I always did. I sigh, groaning. Then I nod my head, still unsure. My mother is still out of town, and that gives me a little more freedom than usual. Hayun lets out a high-pitched scream and bounces around, hugging me. It’s as if with my decision alone, I’ve made her day happier.

"You’re going to love it! Yoongi’s parties are always so much fun." She assures me with a confidence I don’t have. I went to a party once, and I remember hating everything. Both the music and the people.

"I hope so." I laugh, not very sure about what I’m doing. I want to give up on this idea because it makes no sense, and at the same time, I want to show that I’m brave. That I can face my fears. I don’t want to run away of everything forever.

I can do this!

I can’t do this. I can’t do this!

I look at my outfit and feel like going back outside, running after the taxi I took to get here. My long dress, made of thick fabric, has nothing to do with what these people wear. It’s as if I live on another planet, literally. The music is upbeat, playing from two speakers in the middle of the room. It’s good, considering the bizarre things I’ve heard out there. The lights are all purple, giving the place a sensual and enigmatic look. There are many people, and none of them I know. On one hand, I thank God for not running into Jungkook. On the other, I wish he’d appear before me out of nowhere, just so I could put an end to all of this, once and for all.

But what would I say? You’re a bastard, Jungkook. You didn’t promise me anything, but actions speak louder than words. Your actions didn’t show me you still loved your ex. I could say all of that, but how would it help me? Being honest with myself, I came because I felt afraid that, that morning, three days ago, would be the last time I would see him. The last time I could look into his eyes and feel his presence. I am truly in love, and I don’t want to hold onto another regret in my life.

I look side to side, trying to find Hayun, but in the middle of so many people, it’s hard to recognize anyone. I walk through the room, bumping into a few women. They don’t mind, though. I don’t know the environment very well, but the further I get from the crowd, the more I can enter the open backyard, which has a huge pool. Hayun sent me the address an hour ago; maybe if I called her, I could find her more easily. When I take my phone out of my small bag, determined to complete the call, I spot a red-haired figure that catches my attention. Yoongi. It must be him. I walk slowly towards his group of friends, feeling apprehensive, afraid of accidentally colliding into Jungkook.

"Y/N! Over here!" I confirm my suspicions when Hayun waves her arms in the air, as she recognizes me despite the low light. I smile faintly, walking closer to everyone. They all seem unbelievably beautiful, well-dressed, with an air of excitement that I don’t possess. "You made it! I thought you got lost."

"I took a taxi. It’s just far from where I live." I apologize, shrugging.

"Don’t worry. I haven’t had anything to drink. If you need anything, I’ll take you home, okay?" She smiles, placing her sunglasses on the top of her head. Hayun looks prettier when she does that. "Guys, look who’s here. Y/N!"

I shake my head, greeting them. They seem happy to see me, which relieves 50% of my worries. My stiff and tense shoulders, from imagining scenarios where none of them wanted to see me. I’m relieved to realize that this isn’t happening in reality.

"Y/N, how are you?" Bora kisses my cheek, just like the other girls. Yoongi, Jimin and Taehyung nod, sipping something from their cups.

"I’m good." I smile, feeling awkward. I look around for Jungkook, but he’s nowhere in sight. At least not as far as I can see. "It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other."

"Right? What have you been up to, Y/N?" Yoori, Taehyung’s girlfriend, asks. I open my mouth to respond, but I don’t have much to say.

"I’ve been working a lot." I say, honestly. Partly because it’s true, and partly because I don’t know how far I can tell. Do Yoongi, Jimin or Taehyung know that I was with Jungkook? I’m so paranoid about this I can hardly look them in their eyes.

"She works at the Dongseo University bookstore. When I went to pick up some books, I found her there." Hayun circles her arm around my shoulder, smiling. I nod in agreement. "Y/N, Jungkook is around here; he went to get something to drink." She whispers the last part in my ear, trying to keep everyone else from hearing, and with all this noise, it’s not too hard.

My breath catches when I think I might run into him at any moment. My heart beats like it’s going to burst out of my chest, and my legs feel like jelly from so much nervousness. When I think of a mantra to calm me down and finally face things like a normal person, head held high, I see him coming toward his friends, not really seeing them. It’s as if he’s so lost in thought that he can’t see anyone a foot in front of him. Hayun beside me suddenly gasps. She mutters something near me, and I only feel her tense body, because she is pressed against mine. Everyone looks at Jungkook with expressions of discomfort that I can't quite understand.

"Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t... I didn’t know." She says, shaking her head. I frown, confused. What’s happening?

"What’s wrong? Is everything okay?" I ask, anxious, feeling all kinds of emotions at once.

"That guy next to Jungkook." She says, discreetly pointing to a very handsome man, just a few inches taller than him. "That guy is..."

"Namjoon? What’s he doing here?" Jimin questions, crossing his arms over his chest, interrupting his friend. My eyes widen as they approach. My whole body pulls back, and I want to disappear. To be swallowed by the earth and never inhabit this world again. But it’s too late. Jungkook is already here. And his dark, big eyes grow wider when they see me.

"Y/N?" He asks, confused.

Fuck.

"J-Jungkook. Hi." I nod my head. The fear of making any move and embarrassing myself in front of everyone, is overwhelming. The fear that he might just ignore me and pretend I don’t exist, is even greater. I swallow hard, frozen in place. I can’t even greet him properly.

Jungkook doesn’t move either. He stares at me in a static way, and everyone in the group seems to notice. Even Namjoon, his ex-boyfriend. He’s handsome. With his black hair, lean strong body, and a masculine perfume that exudes confidence. My insecurities about myself intensifies. If I had known he would be here, I would have never come. I was a fool to think this would be a good closure. Jungkook hasn’t wanted to talk to me for the past three days. Why would he want to talk to me now? The urge to cry returns, and I’m tired of this situation.

"I didn’t know you’d come, Namjoon." Hayun says beside me, still with her arms around my shoulders. I lower my head, embarrassed.

"I decided at the last minute. I had to come to support Jungkook." He smiles, and he’s even more attractive when he does, forming charming dimples on his cheeks.

"Wonderful." Yoongi grins, but I have the feeling it’s not very sincere. His dark eyes show feelings far from happiness. "I hope you came to stay for a short time. I don’t want certain people in my house."

"Yoongi!" Jungkook scolds his friend, and my throat tightens. Is he defending his ex-boyfriend? Doesn’t he realize the gravity of what Namjoon did? He cheated on him!

"Don’t worry." He places a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes it with an intimacy that makes me extremely uncomfortable. "I came just to see you; I won’t stay long, anyway."

"He was kidding." Jungkook clarifies to him, his voice somewhat hoarse. Then he lowers his head and looks at me again. His eyes are so intense that I have to take a deep breath, struggling to breathe normally. "Actually, I need to talk to Y/N."

"What?" I ask, surprised. My body tenses up again, stiff. Hayun lets out a small smile that everyone notices, and shakes her hair, almost as if the whole situation were a movie, and she’s the spectator.

"I told you it would be a good idea for you to come." She says, and her voice is so loud that it’s as if she wants everyone to hear, especially Namjoon, who bites his lips and watches me. His gaze is enigmatic. I can’t tell if he feels anger or discomfort. Or neither.

"Hayun, please..." I whisper. "And Jungkook, I was actually leaving."

"You weren’t." Hayun argues, furrowing her brow. "You just got here, and you’re staying. You’re welcome here."

"I don’t know..."

"Please, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you. Stay a little longer." Jungkook whispers, biting his rosy lips. His face looks sad, but I can’t believe it’s because of me. If he liked me, even a little, he wouldn’t be standing next to his ex with almost an intimate proximity. I can’t understand him. Not at all.

"Okay." I agree, uncomfortable with everyone watching us, as if we’re animals in a zoo. I don’t want to imagine what they’re thinking.

"Namjoon, I’ll talk to Y/N. I’ll be back soon." He smiles faintly, looking at the dark-haired man. Namjoon just nods and gaze at me one more time.

"Okay. No problem. I’ll stay here with your friends." He says, and I catch a glimpse of Jimin sighing as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

We move away from the group in silence. His hand approaches the end of my back, but he doesn’t touch me. My brain feels like it’s going to fry. There’s so much I want to say, and at the same time, so much that isn’t worth saying. I feel so bad. The way he said he would return to his ex is one of those reasons. Why does he stay in this relationship? Doesn’t he realize he would be happier if he just distanced himself from Namjoon? But that’s my opinion, and he clearly doesn’t think that way. We approach a tree, further away from the party, in the backyard. I lean my back against it, fearing I won’t have strength in my legs. I can’t even look him in the eyes. I don’t have the courage for that. We stand in silence for a few seconds, but it feels like an eternity.

"Are you okay?" He asks me quietly. If he weren’t so close and we weren’t so far from the music, I wouldn’t be able to hear him.

"I am." I respond, trying to form a smile that isn’t real. "And you?"

"Yeah." He smiles too; he tosses his hair back, closes his eyes and sighs, watching me. "You look very beautiful."

"Thank you." I say, feeling awkward. I don’t feel beautiful; I feel terrible.

"Y/N, I don’t know what to say." He says, placing his hand on the trunk of the tree, behind me. His scent invades my nose whether I like it or not. I have to use all my self-control not to respond to any of his movements. "I haven’t been well since that morning. I don’t feel good."

"You don’t feel good." I repeat his words, finding it amusing. He doesn’t feel good? Seriously?

"You may not believe it, but I had to hold myself back from calling you."

"You could have called." I shrug, speaking. My voice sounds ironic, but I can’t be any different. I’m angry. So angry and sad. It’s as if all the bad feelings are inside my chest right now.

"I could, but I shouldn’t. I wanted to take some time to think, and you needed that too." He argues, furrowing his brow. "I want you to know that Namjoon is here, but I didn’t know he would come. It was a surprise to me too."

"You must have been thrilled." I respond with a not-so-happy smile. Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and tightens his jaw, irritated.

"I wasn’t thrilled. I’m not happy, if that’s what you're saying."

"Jungkook... I get it. You want to be with him. I may be inexperienced, but I can read the situation. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. There’s nothing to explain. I just came because I wanted to say I’m happy for you. To congratulate you. Just that."

"You didn’t come just for that." He says in denial. "I can see it in your eyes."

"You know me so well, don’t you?" I respond ironically, trying to hide the extent to which I’m affected. I want to leave. I shouldn’t have come to this party. I shouldn’t be here with him.

"Y/N, please..."

"Jungkook, what are you doing here with me?" I lose my patience, finally reaching my limit. I push away from the tree, my stomach churning. "Why aren’t you with him? With Namjoon? I’m not important to you, so why are you pretending like I am?!"

"I already told you to stop acting like you know me better than I know myself." He grunts, his face reddening with anger.

"It doesn’t matter what you say. I’ve already told you: actions speak louder than words, and you’ve proven that to me since that morning. You didn’t call me for three days simply because you didn’t want to!"

"Y/N..."

"You don’t want to be with me, and that’s fine. You don’t have to be. I already understand where your limits are; just... just don’t pretend to like me if you don’t care about me!" I finish, trembling. My eyes fill with tears, and I feel so vulnerable, anxious. Jungkook has always brought out the best in me, and now I don’t even recognize myself.

"I care about you." He moves closer, furrowing his brows. His dark eyes grow bright. If it weren’t for the lack of light, I could swear he’s about to cry too. He gets even closer and touches my cheek with his hand, gently caressing my skin, sending chills down my spine. I want to pull away from him, but I can’t. "Y/N, I really like you. I didn’t call because I needed some time."

"Stop..." I plead, in a whisper. Both for his words and for his touches. I wrap my hand around his wrist, but I don’t halt him from continuing. I don’t move, half weak, half uncertain, afraid he’ll stop and nervous he’ll keep going.

"I missed you." Jungkook says softly in my ear. His body almost fully pressed against mine. His breath hits my neck; his strong chest touching my breasts. And I don’t know if it’s his heart or mine, racing a thousand miles an hour, so fast and strong.

"Jungkook, stop." I beg, but I can’t pull away myself. He takes his face away from my neck and looks at me once more. His pupils dilate, and they go straight to my mouth. A shiver runs through my entire body as he moistens his lips with his tongue, with a desire so exposed that I can’t mistake it for anything else. And I let him come closer, so damn slowly, as if we’re in slow motion. When I finally close my eyes, surrendered, hypnotized, I hear someone calling him.

"Jungkook?"

Ask for a TAGLIST in the comments

@joonwater @ane102 @ttipa @kookienooki

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rs-hawk · 3 months ago

Note

A giant's finger rubbing against his normal sized human partner's genitals <3 taking the extra care to be gentle while working his human's body. /request (if your still taking those that is)

I've been thinking about this one since I got it bc it gave me so many ideas. I've finally settled on this one and I'm so excited to write about a bigger, chubby man just ❤️ ❤️

FtM/Transman Reader

When you first went into the mountains, you never expected to find a giant at the peak. You were shocked when, during a freak storm, you were forced into the caverns that doted the mountains. You were soaking wet, with a plethora of your supplies ruined. Pushing back the hair that was stuck to your face with sweat and rain, you shakily turned on your flashlight. The cavern around you was spacious, and surprisingly clean. For a hole.

After a short expedition into the cave, and seeing nothing, you decide to set up camp just inside the cavern lip. As soon as the rain let up, you wanted to be out again. By the time night fell, you knew you were stuck here for the night, so you made a meal before curling up in your sleeping bag near your now extinguished fire.

In the middle of the night, the floor under you rumbles, shaking you awake. Through the haze of sleep, at first, you think it's an earthquake. Or a cave in. However, when the feeling stopped just outside of your field of vision, you know that it has to be something organic. Something alive.

Your breath felt hard in your chest as you scrambled up to your feet, your eyes narrowed at the darkness of the cavern. After a moment, a giant stepped out, his head tilted slightly as he examined you.

"Hello, little human," he said in a low voice, his dark eyes trailing down your body.

"Hi," your throat felt tight as you looked up at him, your mouth almost watering as you examined him back.

He was gorgeous. His long black hair was twisted into a surprisingly neat bun on the top of his head, with just a few strands escaping to frame his face. His dark eyes are perfectly almond shaped, as if made just for you to get lost in. The sort of vest?-thing?- that he's wearing showed off a soft stomach and chest peppered with spots of black hair.

It took him speaking again for your eyes to snap back up to his face. "Are you lost?" his voice was still low, but not unkind. Almost gravelly. Like a protective growl from a dog, you think.

"The storm drove me in. I was trying to reach the peak," you explained, your face flushing slightly as his eyes remained trained on you. There was no way he didn't see how you were staring at him before.

There was a bit of back and forth as the storm outside raged on. Finally, he offered for you to come stay with him. "Animals will be seeking shelter as well, and you're right where they would want to be," he gruffed as he picked up your backpack.

You nodded, grateful but a little embarrassed. It didn't take nearly as long as you expected to reach a small settlement inside the cave. You didn't see the rest of the giants, as it seemed they were all asleep, but you could tell the homes looked warm. Lived in. Happy, even. You smiled to yourself as he led you to his home.

"You can stay here," he gestured to a large bed, but you couldn't help but notice it seemed to be the only one.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly take your bed. I can sleep on the floor in my sleeping bag," you insisted, reaching for your bag that he was carrying.

"And let my neighbors think I'm a bad host?" he huffed, picking you up in one hand to set you on the pillow. "Sleep, little human."

"I take up almost no room! Why don't I just sleep on the pillow and you can still sleep here?" you called out as he went to exit the room.

He paused for a moment, then nodded. He set your bag down before taking off his vest, letting you get a better view of what looked like such a soft, cuddly body. You wondered how warm he was. His hand had been, but that's not the same thing. He paused before kicking off his shorts. Your mouth was watering again as you saw how large every part of him was, even through the bright red boxers that looked like they had been dyed with berries or wilting flowers, based on the unevenness of it.

He was careful as he got into the bed, not wanting to crush you. It wasn't long until he fell asleep, but you took a little bit longer. You were dreaming of the large giant touching and praising your responses, loving his effect on your tiny body.

"Little human," the giant's low voice roused you from your sleep. "Are you alright? You won't stop squirming."

You flushed slightly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "No, I'm alright. Just having a lot of dreams."

"What are you dreaming of?" he asked, rolling over and opening his bleary eyes to look at you.

You hesitated as you looked away. "I don't remember."

"Ah," he muttered, sleepy reaching out to stroke your cheek with his large finger. "Well, you are safe here. I would never let harm come to a guest in my home."

You giggled sleepily, but the response he had on your body was undeniable. Pressing your legs tightly together, you attempted to ignore it, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of him. However, his eyes narrowed, as if he noticed what that kind of response indicated.

"Little human. Are you...," he trailed off, either embarrassed or unsure. "Do you need help?"

You looked away, your face flushing. When you didn't say anything, he lightly tugged your legs apart, and you let him. Your breathing hitched. A smirk slinked across his face as he noticed. After a moment, you hesitantly undid your jeans, letting him tug them off of you.

Your mind turned to mush as he lightly rubbed his finger against your core, the very tip teasing your t-dick through the thin cloth of your boxers. You moaned loudly, which earned you one of his other fingers being pushed into your mouth. It stretched your mouth slightly as you did your best to suck on the tip.

"What a good boy. You're so wet and hard for me, aren't you?" his voice was so deep and velvety that it send a shiver down your spine.

You noticed his cock was straining in his boxers, but all thoughts quickly left your mind again as he pulled your boxers away. His finger against your bare cunt and t-dick made you feel like you were on the verge of blacking out. All the while, he was murmuring praises about how good you were. How small. How perfect.

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daceydeath · 9 months ago

Text

Oblivious

Pairing: Seungmin x reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Genre: Friends to Lovers

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive Content

For my beloved @krishastumblernow who has never stopped supporting me xx

Watching as Seungmin made his way across the park baseball cap pulled down and walking like his normal happy puppy self, you couldn't help but smile. You had been close friends for years and despite the fact that you could always spot him from his height it was his walk that always gave him away. As he reached the spot you always met at he finally looked up and saw you, a bright smile crossing his face.

"Have you been waiting long?" he flopped down on the bench beside you giving you a haphazard side hug.

"Not really maybe five minutes" you smiled back taking in his face, you knew the crush you had always harbored on him was one sided but at moments like these where he was so close to you you couldn't help but admire his beautiful features.

"Did you want to grab some coffee then? I know a cool café nearby that does those character coffees you like" he suggested nudging you with his shoulder playfully making you laugh softly before you stood up letting him guide you in the right direction.

"I'm glad you had time to hang out Seung, it's been almost a month" you sighed feeling happy with the sun on your face and him at your side.

"I know, I've missed you too" he laughed as your eyes widened ready to start bickering with him "it does suck getting stuck without any of the outside world for so long".

"Oh yeah I don't know how you guys all do it, I could never spend that much time travelling and only seeing the insides of hotel rooms, venues and planes" you nodded knowing that although his life looked glamorous it usually wasn't.

"What have you been up to, I know we text all the time but anything going on? Met anyone yet?" he teased his fingers brushing yours as you walked beside him.

"Sorry to disappoint you Seung but I haven't met anyone to take me off your hands yet" you rolled your eyes making him grin at his own joke.

"I thought you had a date last week though?" he stopped fishing his phone from his pocket to go through your chat to make sure he had read them properly.

"I did but it didn't work out" you shrugged as he frowned slightly and started walking again.

"Do you want to talk about it? He wasn't mean to you was he?" Seungmin asked, still not looking totally happy.

"It's nothing too bad he just said that he thought we would be better as friends" you explained, sighing as he started looking skeptical "I'm pretty sure there is something that makes me best friend material not girlfriend material".

"Yeah that is bullshit and you know it" he said firmly just before you stepped into the café. He guided you through the tables to one that sat at the back of the room so he was less likely to be recognized or photographed. "I'll go order and then we are going to talk about all the ways he was wrong".

You watched him approach the counter and order for the both of you pointedly ignoring the look the pretty girl behind the counter gave him, even though you could fully understand her, it was hard to not gawk at how handsome he was. He smiled politely, paid and then retreated quickly back to you with a faint blush across his cheeks that you meant one of two things, she had asked for his number or she had tried to give him her number, he was bad at both scenarios.

"Was it your number or hers?" you snickered watching him sit quickly in his flustered state.

"Hers, and stop laughing" he sulked, screwing up his nose at you.

"You really should be used to this by now Seung, you are going to be gorgeous forever you know" you giggled as he tried to not blush further.

"Yeah well you should stop going on dates with idiots who don't know how lucky they are to be sitting across a table from you" he snipped back trying to distract you from what you had just witnessed.

"What does that even mean, Seung?" you raised your eyebrows at him expectantly as the girl from the counter came to place your drinks and a large piece of cake between you making you smile.

"You always go on dates with idiots who can't see how amazing you are, it's not hard to see how smart, funny or beautiful you are so they all must be morons or too self absorbed to notice" he explained casually waiving his fork before he stuck it into the cake to take a bite.

"You think I'm beautiful?" you whispered as your heart beat harder in your chest thinking that he thought that about you.

"Well yeah you're the most beautiful girl I know" he smiled through a mouthful of cake as your eyes widened at him making him get shy and look back down at his drink. "I thought you would like the Totoro one and I got the puppy one".

"They are really cute" you agreed, swallowing the feeling of nervous happiness back down as you picked up the fork he had gotten for you to share the cake with him, a simple gesture that you were used to that now felt more intimate than it should.

"Most of the guys are out tonight. Did you want to come over to the dorm and watch a movie?" he asked, suddenly making you cough a little on your cake. Taking a sip of your coffee trying to not destroy the art on top you swallowed down the murderous offering while he silently laughed at you.

"Sure, are you going to try to kill me with food there too?" you tried glaring but your eyes were watering which only made him laugh harder and cut through the tension that had been between you.

"I can see it now Stray Kids Kim Seungmin arrested for murdering a friend with cake crumbs!" he joked, still laughing.

"Reports say friend's last words were stop laughing and help me you dick" you grumbled back as you finished your coffee.

"But really you don't have to come over if you're busy" he added softly.

"I'm never too busy to hang out with you Seung" you smiled triumphantly, stabbing the last mouthful of cake and stealing it out from under him while he pouted.

"Come on then we'll head back now and order in for dinner" he rolled his eyes at your theatrics and helped you put your coat back on before following you out of the cafe and into the street.

"Sure Seung, did you have a movie in mind?" you chuckled while he brushed his hand against yours again as you got back to the park.

"Well we could either binge a new series or I was thinking maybe the new Marvel movie" he shrugged easily as he continued to walk at your side despite the fact that you always walked slower than him.

"I don't mind either, should we decide when we get dinner?" you mused as you approached the van that had dropped him off to see you. He helped you in before shutting the door behind him and letting the staff know you were wanting to head back to the dorm.

"What's so important that you actually manage to get the dorm to yourself?" you pondered looking to him for an answer as the van started moving, pulling into traffic and driving you towards the dorm.

"Minho and Felix are doing some kind of dance practice tonight and Innie is out with Hyunjin" he shrugged casually. "Any preference for dinner? or I will just order fried chicken".

"Chicken is fine but can we also get some dessert?" you grinned, turning back to look out the window of the moving van.

"Sure" he answered and you could hear the smile in his voice making you feel warm. It had been a month since you had seen him now in one day you were going to get to spend hours with him which was more than you would ever normally dare to ask from him, he was busy with his work as an idol and you knew at some point he would also find someone that he would want to date which would probably take up the rest of his free time, so you knew each time you saw him you needed to be grateful for the time you were getting because it probably would be finite.

"You are thinking way too loudly, are you still thinking about the idiot from last week?" he questioned as he frowned his brows knitting together lightly once again.

"No just thinking I'm lucky to steal this much of your time" you blinked shyly as his face changed to surprise then pleased while yours must have been pink dusted the tips of your ears.

"I'm the lucky one" he countered, clearing his throat "not many friends are willing to wait around for weeks to just hang out". He shifted in his seat slightly as the van pulled into the underground garage that the apartment building his dorm was in. The dim light made it hard for you to see properly for a moment while the van parked and Seungmin opened the door for you to follow him out.

His apartment was chaotic as always four grown men living together had made for interesting decor. It was part bachelor pad, part family home with random plushie pillows littering the couch and game controllers on the coffee table as well as jackets handing off nearly every chair but it was spotlessly clean and comfortably lived in. Putting your shoes away in the entryway you followed Seung into the lounge area plopping down on the couch as he continued to the kitchen.

"Did you want something to drink?" he asked while he stuck his own head in the fridge to find something for himself. "We have water, juice or beer".

"Beer please" you playfully answered throwing him an exaggerated wink when he looked over the fridge door at you. Grabbing two beers he opened them and walked over to the couch to sit next to you handing you a controller before smirking.

"Play until we order dinner?" he smirked knowing you would agree but would end up getting huffy at him for losing every round you played against him. You just nodded knowing Seungmin was trying to wind you up, you enjoyed playing video games but you were far from being any good at them, at least far from being as good as he was. It would end in a playful fight while you waited for dinner to arrive that would all be forgotten by the time you started the movie and ate until you were full and sleepy cuddled up next to him. Well that's how it used to go before he got as successful as he was now, before the fame and demand had him working almost every day, tonight turned out to be no different.

"Just order dinner Seung" you whined, flopping back against the back of the couch and hugging a cat pillow to your chest as he laughed at you.

"You are still so bad at losing" he laughed harder when you pouted and looked at the floor "but I'll order".

You grabbed the remote and flicked over to Netflix hoping you could at least find something to watch that the pair of you could agree on, scrolling through the recommendations you found a drama that you were wanting to watch.

"Have you watched this one?" You asked hopefully looking over at him to find his eyes already on you.

"Not yet, did you want to start that tonight?" He smiled lopsidedly as you grinned back selecting the first episode to start playing. You knew that Seungmin, Hyunjin and Han all watched dramas not necessarily together but they recommended them between themselves so it wasn't strange for Seung to get caught up in one. As the first episode played you watched the two lead characters fumble about in their storylines making cute mistakes or embarrassing themselves as you sipped the rest of your beer. Letting the second one start you were interrupted by the food delivery, by the third episode you were onto your second beer and righting all the wrongs in the characters lives while you sat sprawled out against each other.

"Come on that was obvious" you huffed, the female character intentionally acting cute for the male character.

"He's obviously distracted" Seungmin agreed, taking another mouthful of his drink. "She on the other hand is easily the most oblivious person ever, he's been flirting with her all episode and she just doesn't get it".

"His flirting is so clumsy she is never going to take it as actual flirting she just thinks he's being sweet or teasing her" you argued laughing as Seung pouted ridiculously

"How is it teasing? Plus if she doesn't confess her feelings he will end up with someone else" Seungmin shrugged watching the screen. Six episodes in and the characters were finally getting their shit together and the guy was about to do his dramatic confession in the rain scene.

"So romantic" you gushed, wide eyes on the screen.

"So cliche" Seungmin groaned next to you making you roll your eyes "I mean what girl wants a dripping wet guy traipsing through her house dripping water everywhere?".

"It's not how he confesses it's what he says when he confesses" you laughed turning to look at Seungmin. "They could be eating dinner in their pajamas and it would still be romantic" you finished turning back to the screen, not noticing the look on Seungmin's face, to find them kissing passionately in her apartment. The scene made you squirm a little, your face heating up as you watched them slowly undress each other.

"Are you ok?" Seungmin interrupted, his eyes still on you "You have gone all red".

"I'm fine" you brushed him off your voice a little bit too high pitched to be considered normal. "It's because of the beer" you covered hoping he wouldn't press you further.

"When was the last time someone kissed you like that?" Seungmin pressed, tilting his head at you and leaning in closer his eyes looking darker suddenly.

"No one has ever kissed me like that" you swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry unable to turn away from him and back to the screen. You could hear him pause the episode but couldn't tear your eyes away from him to check.

"No one?" Seungmin repeated, softly the distance between you getting even smaller.

"No one" you breathed. He closed the gap between you a little more, his breath now fanning across your cheeks and his eyes still gazing deeply into yours. Smiling softly he lifted his hand placing a knuckle under your chin to raise it, his eyes flicked down to your lips quickly, your breath hitched as he chastely pressed his lips to yours testing what you wanted him to do. You kissed him back softly, giving him all the permission he needed to kiss you more passionately, his lips soft and plush against yours.

Pulling you into his lap you tangled your fingers in his hair to hold him as close as you could. He ran his tongue along the seam of your lips seeking entry making you gasp, which he took full advantage of sliding his tongue against yours and taking the lead as your need for him became more evident. Eventually breaking away from your mouth for air he kissed his way along your jaw and down to your neck smiling as your breathing turned sped up.

"Seungmin" you mumbled fire burning under the skin his lips touched making you feel light headed.

"What if it's actions, my love" he murmured into your skin "instead of words".

Seungmin pulled your body flush against his, his hands sliding down your sides until they reached the back of your thighs which he squeezed gently before grasping firmly and standing up which made you wrap your legs around him instinctively. He smirked seductively before pressing his lips to yours again and walking you to his room kicking the door shut behind you with his foot. The drama and leftover food now forgotten in the lounge for the rest of the night.

A/N: Thank you for reading, your kind comments, reblogs and likes, give me so much happiness xx

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