#I was brave and didn't vomit | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

tsukimefuku · 1 year ago

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the event (1) ❖ nanami kento

this part → part 2 (soon) | mdni! | the nile is a river in egypt 👍

summary: after struggling for so long with the feelings you had for nanami, your colleague and closest friend, you finally decide to put an end to your misery and confess to him. little did you know there was no misery left for you to wallow in that night — none at all. alternatively: nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase "I want you".

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer!f!reader, colleagues in the field, 18+, alcohol, explicit! smut (oral f!receiving, piv, squirting), 1/3 plot 2/3 filth ratio, it’s romance guys, nanami x reader, reader is emotionally stunted, they're clearly in love, angst, fluff, hurt and comfort, basically a book chapter, no beta my inner demons proofread this.

wc: 8k

notes, etc.: if i have to rewrite this one more time i will commit a felony. inspo → just like you do (carly simon) and sonnet (the verve). saved by smooth operator (sade). the bit "love is something brave people do" is inspired by fleabag's last episode. appetizers for this fic are the shorties “would you let me die?” and “where does your mind drift”.

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist

this is big but very worth it, i promise.

Today, you were determined to finally utter those three words and put an end to your own personal brand of misery.

Ever since you and Nanami kind of discussed if getting involved would be a bad idea — he said it would, but you had your doubts — you just couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew you had feelings for him. Maybe. He mentioned that he believed you thought about him.

But the thing was… nothing was actually said. It was all implied. Implied into oblivion.

You two had been working together for a good while now, and you didn't fail to notice that, in the most recent encounters you've had, be it on missions or just having a drink at your favorite bar, your heart would involuntarily throb whenever you gazed at him for too long.

Not only that, but you were finally able to admit to yourself that your gratitude towards the sorcerer, who saved your life years ago, had become love. You were, without a shred of a doubt, in love with him, and the fact that he clearly stated that getting involved would be ill-advised — his words, not yours — was a special type of torture.

So be it — you were confessing your feelings for him today, at least to have a definitive answer. It would be better to get shot down than keep doing this little tip-toe dance around the unsaid. You just couldn't do this anymore.

Thing was… You were terrible with feelings. And words. And putting feelings into words. And also just feeling your feelings, in general.

So you decided to invite him to a bar — like you always did —, and chat the night away — again, like you always did — to try easing yourself into this conversation in a comfortable, known setting. Your drinks were downed until the middle of the night like you were filling up a Jeep tank, trying to fuel yourself with liquor-bought courage.

Eventually you slowed down, because certainly throwing up would be less than ideal. Better to be sober and chicken out than drunk and vomiting.

You were so in your own head, though, that you failed to realize Nanami was accompanying you in the "getting completely hammered" department until about a few hours prior, partially regaining his sobriety, with a lot of things swirling around in his own mind.

Mostly, he still thought about the non-conversation you both had about thinking of each other. More specifically, the fact that you inquired, right at the end, if it would really be such a bad idea.

Would it?

Could he dare to dream of a life beyond killing curses and hoping not to die every time he stepped his foot into a mission?

He wasn't sure about it anymore, and could feel his usual negative stance about getting romantically involved with someone while still being a jujutsu sorcerer wavering — an absolute first for him. He was hardly someone to be swayed on his stances in life.

But this time, just maybe, you were able to do that without even realizing.

He caught himself gazing at you more frequently than usual, and wondering what would be the texture of your flower-scented hair tangled in between his fingers.

Today, your hair smelled like jasmine flowers.

Unlike you, however, Nanami was unsure if he'd touch upon the subject that night, specifically, in case he ever decided to do so. He’d prefer to talk about it in an appropriate setting — dinner at a restaurant, maybe? No, you weren't someone who'd like that. Perhaps at a picnic, she does enjoy nature...

He tried shaking those thoughts away along with his feelings, but it didn’t work.

The conversation was very pleasant, and you two were reminiscing about his mission at your hometown where you both met years ago.

”Do you remember when I tried cooking breakfast? Oh, that was a good one,” you jested, chuckling.

Nanami nodded, resting the edge of his whiskey cup on his bottom lip.

“I’d say that was a terrible one. You nearly set your entire kitchen on fire trying to fry eggs,” he noted, letting a smile take over his lips.

You laughed in response.

”Yeah, you’re probably right. But at least you rescued me and made one of the best tamagoyaki I’ve ever eaten.”

He put his glass down on the counter, looking at you with those adoring, beautiful, brown honeyed eyes.

"One of?"

You chuckled, trying not to stare too much.

Good God, he's looking gorgeous tonight.

“Oh, come on. According to you, I can barely taste my food the way I eat, mixing everything up in my plate,” you joked, “I don’t have the same particular taste buds of yours.”

Nanami sighed, rolling his eyes at your teasing, taking a sip of his whiskey.

The ice had melted a little, and he felt the watery coat on the drink with displeasure, grimacing a little.

Somehow, Nanami failed to see the irony in that.

You noticed, and laughed a little before continuing.

"The other amazing tamagoyaki I had was when you rescued me from starving during my first week here. But I don't think I'd really regret burning Jujutsu High down, even if it was an accident."

Nanami shook his head lightly, the smile still on his face betraying his half-hearted chide.

Then, after the banter evaporated in the air, that moment finally came.

The absolute silence.

Arguably the perfect opportunity to say these types of things… So you began.

"Nanami, I…" words gagged. "I wanted to tell you something."

His body visibly tensed up a little, but he probably didn't realize it.

He knew, of course.

Nanami noticed all the recent instances you'd stare at him, and ever since pulling you in for a not-so innocent hug when you were both stranded on the road after a mission together, he felt dangerously close to crossing this boundary.

Nanami's words were easily controlled, always so neatly put together with mathematical precision to express his thoughts. However, ever since he crossed the line of physical contact beyond pure platonic affection, it had been difficult keeping his hands to himself.

Right now, he wanted to cup your face with his palms and brush his thumbs against your cheeks.

Perhaps even press his lips against you- stop that, you’re not a teenager anymore.

This comfort zone of avoiding the discussion about the feelings you both had for each other was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"What?"

You gulped, and took a few more sips of beer.

"I…"

Your voice got stuck in your throat.

Your syllable had stretched long enough for this to have become a little awkward.

"I wanted to thank you," you blurted out, more for your benefit than his.

Nanami was equal parts relieved, disappointed, and surprised.

Did he actually want you to tell him you had feelings for him?

"Thanks for welcoming me to Jujutsu High, for shepherding me all this time, and for being a reliable, good friend. I was ready to face hell here, but it was… much better than I had anticipated. So, thank you, Nanami."

He looked at you, and both held each other's gaze for a moment. His hazel brown eyes were always something that lured you in, and you surely enjoyed how he'd always remove his green shades to talk to you.

Seeing them felt strangely — and endearingly — intimate.

"You're welcome," he offered in a kind note.

"Last call!" the bartender stated loudly, as you and Nanami looked at each other, feeling somewhat disappointed that the night was about to be over.

Stepping outside after paying, you both realized it was raining — something neither had noticed from inside the bar.

With half a mind to do something, definitely inebriated, and still with a declaration stuck in your throat, you absentmindedly made a question to Nanami.

"Can I wait the rain out at your place?"

He did live close by, in any case.

For a second, you realized you were probably butting in his rest hours, and felt a little embarrassed.

"Yes," he replied immediately, also absentmindedly, before you could retreat your request.

***

It was actually the first time you ever visited his apartment, and it was interesting to see his place. To no one's surprise, Nanami's pristine apartment, with his collections of books and CD's — he still had an actual stereo CD player — felt as every bit put together as Nanami himself did.

His kitchen drawers alone were surely more organized than your income tax return.

You sat on the counter and had your drenched hair haphazardly covered with a blue towel as Nanami fixed something to eat for the both of you.

The smell of cooked rice and eggs filled the air, hugging your senses, as you watched, still halfway drunk, how he skillfully walked back and forth, being somewhat inebriated himself, making way more than instant noodles, your first choice after proposing you both ate something to ease the alcohol out.

You stared at his back while he cooked, trying to push the thought of telling him how you felt to the back of your mind, at least for a while, just so you could enjoy the following moments without the sensation of impending doom.

As he finished plating the food, you were nothing short of impressed — the man mustered up the skill to cook omurice while inebriated, a feat you couldn't do sober even in one of your best days.

"This is incredible, you're such a badass," you remarked as Nanami gave you a plate with a pair of chopsticks.

"It's a simple recipe," he replied, getting his own and taking a bite out of it as he leaned against the sink counter, facing you.

"Oh, it surely is,” you remarked, ironically.

You were getting ready to eat as Nanami interrupted you.

"Don't desecrate it," he chided, referencing the way you'd usually stir up your food on your plate until it became an unidentifiable goo before eating, "try to taste your food at least this once."

You chuckled a little, acquiescing.

"Okay. This is too beautiful to get vandalized, anyway."

Nanami huffed, the faintest ghost of a smile on his lips, before he took another bite.

"I am so going to regret this entire thing tomorrow," you stated, taking the first piece out of your plate, “I drank like a sailor.”

It was absolutely delicious, of course. It was Nanami's food, after all.

He swallowed before proceeding.

"Me too, most likely. I hadn't drunk this heavily since… ever."

"Hah, me neither."

You both resumed eating peacefully, partaking in a comfortable and cozy silence for the next few minutes. During that time, he looked at you without you noticing, and realized just how much he wanted this small sliver of peace — sharing a good meal with you in his kitchen after a remarkably pleasant night — to keep going for eternity.

You were looking so adorable with his blue towel over your drenched hair.

As you were finished, he took both plates and put them inside the sink, going back to his original position. Nanami had already removed his tie, his weapon holster and opened the top of his blue buttoned shirt by this point, both of his sleeves rolled up for him to cook.

It was becoming increasingly hard not to stare.

"Thank you, Nanami," you said, smiling at him.

"It's no trouble," he answered, softly smiling back at you.

His smile was much sweeter than usual, and it sent your heart throbbing against your chest.

The urge came again, to finally tell him.

However, when you actually spoke, something entirely unexpected came out of your mouth.

"Why did you come back to Jujutsu High after years of working a regular job?"

Nanami was surprised, to say the least, and pondered for a while before resuming his answer.

He had left the jujutsu world shortly after the mission where he met you and ‘failed you’ — that last part solely according to him — so, needless to say, this was a sensitive topic.

"Well, I had known the jujutsu world, and after entering the corporate one, I realized both were idiotic. So-"

"No, not that speech," you interjected, "I want to know exactly what happened for you to come back. I mean, when we ran into each other years ago, you seemed pretty resolute in trying your retired-by-40 and moving to Malaysia plan, and from what I gathered, not long after that, you just came back, out of nowhere."

Nanami was silent, because he remembered vividly what had transpired, and that you had something to do with it.

"Well," he began, "a few days after we had that conversation, I went into a bakery to buy breakfast. It was always the same person at the cash register, and she had a small fly head curse on her shoulders for a while. It began affecting her sleep, given her complaints. I had avoided doing something about it, but our conversation kept ringing in my head."

Nanami averted his gaze, as if remembering the moment in its details before proceeding.

"After I exorcised it, her shoulder pain subsided, and she thanked me. That was it."

You remembered well how you chided him, telling Nanami to go back into sorcery because the world of jujutsu needed people who truly cared, such as himself. You just didn’t think it would have such a direct connection to the reasons he came back.

"So... you realized the importance of the job we do?" you inquired, with a half-smile pulled on your cheek.

He sighed. "Something like that."

"Oh, Mr. Nanami 'I'm just doing my job' Kento... you have finally understood that meaning is something relevant to you, it seems," you remarked, light-spirited.

He smiled, looking the other way, somewhat appreciating the fact that he had just been read like a book by you.

"But... don't say I had something to do with you coming back," you stated, "I might feel responsible if something happens to you."

Even as a joke, this snapped at your heart a little. The mere thought of losing him felt terrifying.

Nanami sighed, smile vanishing, looking back at you.

"You always see things from a perspective of assigning responsibility and guilt... It is a perspective that usually warrants unnecessary suffering."

You scoffed, still wearing your mid-smirk on your face.

"Oh, and looking at everything from a protective perspective is any different? I mean, both boil down to us thinking we're responsible for other people's fates."

He was slightly taken aback, before smiling discreetly and crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"I guess you're right."

Nanami looked at you, and seemed to be staring at your cheek. Under the dim light from the stove hood, you could make out the contours of his face — his sharp jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, and his now exposed forearms with taut, sculpted muscles, right under the rolled up sleeves of his blue shirt.

If pupil dilation could be felt, you would have definitely felt it at that moment.

The urge came up again, but by this point, you were already feeling defeated enough at your pathetic inability of confessing your feelings, so you just let your mouth roll with whatever came out of it.

"I really admire you, Nanami."

You surprised even yourself.

His eyes then met yours.

"Do you?"

Pondering on your words, you nodded, thinking a little about it.

"You're such a calm, collected and responsible person. You seem to always know exactly what you're doing, meanwhile I'm usually just guessing around. No wonder Ino and Yuuji look up to you."

Even under the soft lighting, you could swear you saw Nanami's face blush a little.

"Thank you," he stated, bowing his head slightly towards your direction.

You smiled at him and sighed right after.

"Most times, I don't think I'm someone people would call admirable or actually look up to."

This was something you hadn't anticipated you'd say. You had never told that to anyone.

But, well, this was him. This was Nanami.

"Why do you say that?" he inquired in earnest.

"Because... Because I'm often hanging by a thread, just trying to survive. I'm not doing great things. I'm barely existing, sometimes."

He mulled his thoughts over for a second before answering you.

"You have a good capacity for adapting, taking whatever life hands you and doing the best you can with it," he noted, "and you keep going even if you feel like you're guessing. Even when you don't know where you're going. That takes bravery, and I find it to be admirable."

Now you were the one surprised, and you could feel your entire face burning the moment he finished uttering those words. You were never one to take compliments easily, but this was a whole other level.

You stood there, mouth slightly agape, faltering without any words.

His eyes had returned to your cheek, and in a swift movement, you heard him say excuse me as he stepped into your direction, rubbing his thumb on it to take off some food you hadn't realized that was still stuck on your face.

Nanami barely registered that the thoughts looping around his mind the entire night about touching you had finally taken the best of him.

Before he could remove his hand, though, you held it in place, lifting your eyes to meet him.

His palm felt warm against your skin, his digits rough, and perfect. Just like he was.

Nanami's expression was unreadable as he gazed back at you, and you began hearing your heartbeats against your ears, muffling the sound of the tapping rain on the window.

Words failed him too, and he was guided by his body once again.

Nanami lowered his face and softly pressed his lips over yours, still tasting like whiskey and Demi-glace, which sent waves — that you couldn't quite discern if were hot or cold, perhaps both — all throughout your body.

It was a quick kiss, though, because shortly after, Nanami backed out, still with his eyes closed, and had something resembling a frown on his face.

"I apologize, that was inappropriate," he mumbled, beginning to pull his hand out from your cheek. You, however, held it in place, and that got him to open his eyes and look at you.

He seemed taken by trepidation under his usual collected demeanor, and his lower lip had the slightest twitch to it as his eyes flickered quickly between your mouth and your eyes.

For a moment, you felt like you were looking into the eyes of the Nanami you once knew — the bangs, the uniform, the seventeen-year-old version of him.

Little did you know that your corresponding younger version was looking right back at him with the same bated breath, just like the teens-becoming-adults in the most traumatic ways you two once were.

"Stop apologizing and kiss me," you pleaded, edging your face closer to his, pulling his towel off your head.

You could feel his breath exhaling against your skin, as Nanami approached his body to yours, putting himself in between your knees, and cupped your face in his hands. His body was incredibly warm, just like his hand, and his woody, musky scent sent your senses spiraling when he finally descended his lips to yours, determined on taking his time — after all, this was a kiss ten years in the making.

His mouth felt velvety and supple, and you both melted into each other while exploring the way his head tilted against yours, how your nails would eventually find their way up the nape of his neck, how your breath would hitch every time he pressed his mouth against yours more intently. Your lips slid wetly over each other with a newfound ease none of you expected.

You were both dipping your toes in the ocean and testing the temperature before committing to dive into deeper waters, taking all the time into familiarizing with the feeling of each other's bodies.

Nanami's hands descended to your waist, leaving a trail of heat on the way, and you let out a soft moan into his mouth when he pressed them against you. He groaned lowly, a sound reverberating from the depths of his chest, as he parted his lips from yours and put some distance in between your faces with his eyes closed.

You didn't understand, but before you could ask anything, he began speaking.

"I don't mean to assume," he stated, letting his forehead rest on yours.

"Hm... What do you mean?"

"I... What I mean is we can stop, in case you don’t... We're both still somewhat under the influence. You are," Nanami replied, opening his eyes to look into yours. The faltering restraint dwelling in them was palpable.

In the back of your mind, you wondered if there was any way of loving him more than you already did. Even now, he was so mindful and careful with you.

"I want this," you replied, resolute, "I want you. I've wanted it all for a very long time. It's not a drunken decision, I mean it."

His gaze softened in a way you had never seen before, one of his hands ascending to brush his thumb over your cheek. Nanami snuggled his nose against yours and sighed, seemingly fluttering.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'm sure. I want you," you repeated, incisively.

He let out a huff of air against your mouth, and you could smell his breath, mingled with the scent emanating from him and his clothes. Intoxicating wasn't a strong enough word — you were completely enthralled, entranced and overwhelmed by him. Every sound got muted, but the sound of his breathing. Every smell disappeared, but his. And there was no other temperature in the room other than the warmth of his body.

You had entered tunnel vision mode, and at the end of it, he was your light.

Closing the remaining inches that separated the both of you, he brushed his lips against yours, whispering, "then have me. Have all of me."

Still cupping the side of your face, Nanami tilted it, finally fitting your lips against his again, like lovely little puzzle pieces getting more and more accustomed to each other by the second. He felt around your contours, pressing the tip of his tongue softly over the seam of your mouth, and you warmly welcomed him in, his true taste lingering just under the drinks and sauces being enough to knock the air out of your lungs.

He was salty, fresh, and a breeze of cool air by the seashore.

There were a few times you wondered what he'd be like, but your fantasies were quick to pale in comparison to the reality of him.

Nanami’s broken restraint was completely done for, and just this once, he wanted to let it come tumbling down like a house of cards, as he parted to gaze at your disheveled hair, your flustered face, your slightly puffy lips.

His chest swelled full and content at that sight.

He met you once again, and the ruffling from the fall was sounding better than he could have ever hoped for, insistent heart beat pushing against his ears, encompassing your breathless kissing like a sonnet.

Nanami's hands, however, didn't dare explore beyond your waist, and all this intense make out session was starting to make your panties feel uncomfortable against your pooling arousal. You were starting to feel antsy, and your body was nearly twitching at the aching desire. You needed some kind of relief, or you'd go insane.

Nanami was a gentleman, but holy hell, given the context, there weren't many ways he could misunderstand the phrase I want you.

You put your hands over his and slip them down to cup your ass, parting from his lips for a moment.

"Stop keeping your hands to yourself. Touch me," you pleaded, with some type of simmering desperation to your voice that you hadn't yet heard — never, actually.

He looked at you, and seemed equally desperate in an unfathomable way. He pulled you in, kneading his fingers fiercely against your skin while moaning into your mouth, and pressed your bodies hard enough for you to feel him pulsating through multiple layers of fabric.

Oh, my.

You knew he was strong, but this was something else.

Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, and drew the tips of your fingernails down his back, while grinding over his growing erection with your clothed core. Nanami let out a muffled groan on your skin and began kissing your neck intently with messy, open-mouthed kisses.

He put his hands under your thighs and whispered in your ear, "hold on to me."

That caught your attention from your hazy brain.

"I... My hair is still wet. My clothes are a little damp, too. I'm kind of a mess right now," you told him, chuckling sheepishly.

This man's apartment was the most immaculate place you had ever been in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was to dirty it around with dripping water from the rain. In his bed, of all places.

Nanami immediately pulled himself back and held your face, locking eyes with you.

"You are beautiful right now," he remarked, not giving you enough time for an answer, as he pressed another kiss on your lips — this time, more urgent, a little sloppy, but just as passionate, if not more. You gasped into his mouth, letting your body take control.

In an instant, your arms were draped over his shoulders, your legs tightened firmly around his body, and his strong hands held the back of your thighs, as Nanami lifted you from that counter like you weighed nothing.

You squeaked in surprise, and he uttered a soft, deep chuckle before planting a quick peck on your lips.

After walking you both into his room, he calmly descended towards the mattress, laying you down delicately and climbing his way on top of you.

When he approached his face to yours, you smiled at him, and he smiled back, sharing a tender moment of silent closeness.

This was probably your favorite shared quietude yet.

“I should get out of these wet clothes,” you stated, giggling softly, before tugging your shirt over your head.

He huffed a soft smiling hum in return, as his palms found their way towards the sides of your hips. Their warmth clashed a stark contrast against your still dampened, cold skin, and his touch was electric, making you involuntarily sigh.

"Help me take these pants off," you cooed, relaxing your legs around his body.

Nanami didn’t need to be told twice, and swiftly slid his hands down to unzip you and pull your damp pants off while you unclasped your bra.

After he was done, his eyes lingered over the drenched patch on your underwear, a realization that definitely riled him up, as his breath got caught midway out his nostrils for a second.

Nanami’s fingers swirled around your bra straps, but before he removed it, you began unbuttoning his shirt, finishing off unclenching his belt and unzipping his pants.

"It would be unfair for me to be the only one exposed here," you remarked, light spirited, while smiling tenderly at him.

He smiled back very much the same way, and pulled his shirt off, downing his pants, letting it all become a wrinkled puddle on the floor. Nanami caged you in between his arms, and pressed a quick kiss on your lips, asking, "do you ever stop?"

"Why don't you try to find out?" you slyly replied.

Nanami wasn't usually one to appreciate being teased. This was especially true when it came to Gojo annoying the hell out of him, and he could — and would — also get annoyed at your snarky teasing from time to time.

But it felt different with you. He wasn't nearly as irritated as he would've been with anybody else.

Perhaps because you teased him with love.

Your hands pulled your bra off and tossed it aside, and for some seconds, he was speechless, contouring his eyes all over your body. With butterflies on his chest, he finally cupped your face in his hands again before kissing you once more, and you couldn’t help but notice he really liked holding you like that when he kissed you — and you'd let him, every time he wanted to.

It was lovely to be held so preciously under such an adoring touch.

Letting go of your lips, Nanami began planting kisses under your jaw, descending towards your neck, and nesting his face in between your breasts, inhaling your scent with his face laid over your skin. With your encouraging hand tangling in his hair, he began kissing and licking his way around, kneading on your breasts with his palms. Your hips instantly bucked up against him, at the same time you let out a needy moan.

He noticed it, very pleased, and gave you the tiny mercy of removing your panties.

Still with his mouth plastered on your skin, Nanami descended one hand towards your folds, and groaned the second his fingers touched over your wetness, cock twitching inside his underwear.

You were drenched.

He sounded so satisfied, you couldn’t help but blush a little in between your moans and mewls, wanting to brat out just a little.

“Hah-- I did say- a-ah… that I wanted you,” you half jested, trying to fend off your fleeting embarrassment, “w-what did you… hah-- expect?”

He stopped briefly, and lifted his face to look at you, sighing with his classic I could be eye rolling at you right now expression.

You smiled mischievously, fully aware he noticed the teasing.

Nanami brushed his fingers above your clit softly, not breaking eye contact, and you thrust your hips up again, mewling mindlessly. Huffing, you tried saying something, but he pressed his fingers a little more intently, having your words turn into incoherent moaning tumbling down past your lips.

At that moment, you just knew…

You stood defeated.

“Finally, you relentless little devil,” he mumbled, kissing his way down your body, as you huffed a few chuckles in between your pleasured sounds.

If he was so hellbent on shutting down your antics like that, you’d probably try to keep them going all night long. Perhaps you could even break his composure completely.

The idea was enticing.

However, he was the one about to break you apart completely, as you realized when his wet, hot tongue got seared-flat against your clit, and stroked on your glistened folds with the ravenous dedication of a starving man.

Nanami was delighted to have finally shut down your quick-wit tease mouth completely, especially like this.

In the back of his mind, he realized he’d gladly do it every time you got on his nerves.

Being a pretty tactile person, with heightened senses overall, Nanami was sure that tasting you would feel amazing, but this was otherworldly.

Completely enthralled, he began dipping his tongue inside you to drink you in, having your walls clenching immediately around it.

The sounds you made — your moaning and begging, as your thighs rubbed against his cheeks and fingers tugged on his hair — would be etched in his brain for eternity, he was sure of it.

The moment his hands pressed harder on your thighs, pulling them against his shoulders, and you let out a mixture of a squeal and a moan, something inside him snapped, sending his mouth into a feral quest against your cunt.

Groaning and panting into you, he lapped relentlessly on your folds, nuzzling your clit so intently it nearly sent you crawling over the walls. Your vision was white, starry, black, and then white again, and you wondered for a minute if this was all pleasure or if the light of the room was actually flickering.

Mouth agape, your moans bounced off the walls, and your back arched desperately, while your entire body tightened with the tell-tale signs of an intense orgasm. Your toes were curling, your ears were ringing, and your face contorted in desperate need for release.

“D-don’t stop- don’t… Hah-- I-m… I-I… Hah---!“

Upon hearing your pleas, Nanami latched his lips on your clit and sucked on it so powerfully you didn’t get tipped over the edge, but was effectively thrown from it with no parachute or lifeline.

Your entire body tensed and jolted. You came with a desperate cry, tightening your grip on his hair with bruising force. He let out a loud moan, trying to hold himself together as you fell apart on his mouth, and started to lick you softly to wean you off your high.

For a few seconds, your entire body stopped answering any voluntary movement signals from your brain, and you could’ve sworn you forgot your name.

You were sent to heaven and returned unscathed.

Coming back to Earth, your grip on him loosened, and Nanami brought his mouth up to one of your thighs, pressing gentle kisses over it.

When your vision wasn’t all abstract colors anymore, you looked down to see Nanami with hooded eyes, resting his chin over your mound, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful creature in existence.

Given what had just transpired, you found it to be incredibly absurd that this — him gazing at you — was what had you blushing violently.

But here you were, hiding your face under the back of your hand, as you chuckled sheepishly solely from the way he looked at you.

This beautiful, adoring man.

The urge to tell him how much you loved him came back, but even like this, so unclad and vulnerable, it was incredibly hard.

Nanami was barely blinking, wondering how he had allowed — or better, forced — himself to live without this, without you, for so long.

“I’m starting to feel embarrassed,” you said, equal parts joking and genuine, as you finally managed to meet his glance again.

He blinked a few times, being pulled from his thoughts, whispering a half-hearted apology as he crawled his way back to you.

His hair was a mess, his lips were rosy and puffy, and his eyes…

His eyes.

Trying to keep yourself from becoming a fluttering chaos all over again, you shook your head lightly as you resumed speaking.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” you cooed, sliding your fingers down his face, pressing your lips to his. Nanami pushed his tongue inside your mouth, and you moaned in response, tasting your essence mixed in with his own flavor.

God, you could kiss him and taste this for hours on end.

His mouth and tongue flowed and veered softly, with no rush other than to imprint your flavor in him. Nanami clearly was a kisser — a very good one —, and was delighted to keep exploring you like that for as long as you’d let him.

Suddenly, you had a little wicked idea creeping up on you, as you made some effort to finally part your lips from his and uttered, “you know what, I’m sorry.”

Nanami was puzzled.

“What do you m-“

With your strength back, you locked your legs on the sides of Nanami’s waist and rolled his body over, landing on top of him.

His breath was caught for a moment before he smiled at you. Smiling back, you straddled yourself back, diving your fingers on the edges of his boxers to slide them down.

Nanami helped you by raising his body, and the moment you removed the piece of clothing, his cock sprang out, bearing a flushed, bulbous, red tip that mutely slapped against his belly. It was bigger than you anticipated, thicker too, and you wondered if you could fit it all in your mouth.

Probably not.

You also didn’t fail to notice the very evident damp patch on his underwear from his pre-cum alone.

He must be desperate right now, you thought to yourself, enticingly amused.

However, the moment you were about to wrap your fingers around him and descend, Nanami held your hand and sat up. He seemed slightly… Embarrassed?

“Hm… what is it?” you asked, pressing against his hand.

He cleared his throat.

“I’m… very wound up. Could we…” Nanami mumbled, words dying on their way out.

Truth was, ever since the moment you were grinding your clothed cunt against him, his mind was boiling to the thought of burying himself inside you to the hilt.

There was no sugar-coating it.

“Oh…” you let out, “so… you want me too?” you asked, a hint of amusement to your voice.

You weren’t the only one needy tonight.

He sighed from the depths of his soul.

“Stop teasing.”

His voice came out raspy, more of a plea than an actual chide.

The man was crumbling down, and it was delightful to watch The Nanami Kento, always so unflappable, falling apart like this.

You chuckled and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

“I’m sorry,” you offered in earnest.

He exhaled gently, gaze towards you softening as he did.

You blushed a little before proceeding.

“Where is the…”

“First drawer.”

Everything happened quickly. You snatched the condom from his nightstand and opened it. Nanami took it from your hands and slid it down his length. A soft sigh escaped his lips as the rubber snapped at the end.

Softly crawling your way towards him, you put both hands on his shoulders to straddle on his lap. Nanami locked his gaze on you, not breaking eye contact even for a second, right up until you both finally kissed again.

His hands began making their way down your back, and then…

You felt it.

The tip of Nanami’s fingers pressed against the scar you had right over your spine, and you gasped in pain as it hit the bundle of tangled nerves bumping over your skin. You instantly backed your face away with an aching grimace.

Nanami had witnessed how you got that scar in the fateful mission in which you two met years ago.

The sound of the blade piercing through your skin and flesh still lingered on in his nightmares.

His hand retreated so quickly you barely felt it leaving your body.

Following the aftershock, you opened your eyes to see him with his own eyes sealed shut, and Nanami appeared to be crawling his way back into his mind. His expression, usually so calm and collected, was replaced by a pained frown of his brows.

“I apologize, I… I’m…” he muttered, and you realized this wasn’t an apology for what just happened.

He still blamed himself for what had taken place then.

It broke your heart to shambles to see him like that, knowing full well nothing that transpired that night was his fault.

You cupped his jaw in your palms, and pressed your forehead to his.

"Hey, stop it. Stop apologizing, you haven't failed me. You never failed me."

Nanami's eyes were still very much sealed, and he seemed to be pulling even further away from you as the memories swirled around in his mind.

"Please, look at me," you pleaded, nuzzling against his face.

After a sigh, he answered, "I… I can't."

And he truly couldn't, still feeling the shame eating away at his chest like a parasite.

You scrambled your mind after something that might help, and finally realized the only thing you could say to pull him back.

Shit.

You were still terrified, and your entire body tensed up.

This is it. Now. I have to tell him now.

According to Nanami, you were brave.

And love, apparently, is something brave people do.

Still cupping his jaw, you sighed before letting the words come out of your mouth.

"Nanami Kento, I love you."

Your voice didn’t falter or stutter. Your declaration smoothly left your lips as naturally as breathing — the same way loving him came to you.

His breath caught halfway out, and he finally opened his eyes, soft and bare, gazing into yours.

"I love you, I have loved you for so long, I…" you repeated, sighing greatly, "I love you."

Nanami opened his mouth, but for a second, nothing — not even a huff of air — would pass. Knotting away in his throat, the words also struggled to form.

Should he? Could he? How deep in trouble would this launch the both of you?

Surpassing his worries, eventually, the words finally came out.

"I love you too."

The guilt and trauma had taken a backseat in his mind, at least for now.

When you heard Nanami’s words — heard him say that he loved you too —, your heart immediately began fluttering, and you could've sworn there was a ringing sound around the both of you.

There wasn't, though, just as much as the honeyed dewy warm rain that prickled over your entire skin was a manifestation of your love ridden excited imagination.

Smiling, you pulled him in for a kiss, and he intently pressed his lips against yours, no exploration left to be done — your tongues, by this point of the night, had met and familiarized themselves with every inch of each other's mouths, breaths, and moans.

Mindlessly, his hands plastered themselves back into your body, and brushed up from your hips, to your waist, over your back all the way to your shoulder blades.

Nanami brought you even closer, and kept kneading his hands against you, almost as if he was trying to touch your entirety all at once.

His fingertips ghosted softly around your scar accidentally again, and your breath hitched for a second. You pulled your mouth from his, just long enough to say, "lay me down."

Nanami understood it, and acquiesced. Swiftly, he supported you from your shoulders and hips, laying you down like a porcelain treasure, and caged you in with one hand to each side of your head.

You both took a few moments to admire each other.

Nanami was a tall and broad man, but from underneath, he seemed even more mountainous. His angular face, his wide shoulders and muscular arms, everything about him was just grand.

In a second, though, interrupting your gazing, his hand pulled a pillow from the top of the bed, and he gently lifted your head to put it underneath.

That was it.

In the end, you knew that his kindness, just as grand as he was, was what stole your heart.

Nanami slowly descended over you, and supported himself with his forearm to the side of your head, using his free hand to part the slightly sweaty hair on your forehead and press a fleeting, soft kiss in between your brows. Your heart skipped a beat, and his mouth came down pecking at your face in the most delicate fashion, until it rested on one of your cheeks.

You guided your hand down and positioned his tip towards your entrance, noticing Nanami shuddering with the sensation of your fingers clasping around him. His hand got down to the side of your hip, and Nanami let out a soft huff as he began to slowly push his length inside. He could feel himself gliding along your slick folds, and scrunched his eyes shut as the tip got past the resistance of your ring, eyelashes brushing over your skin with a feathery lingerance.

To say he was savoring this down to the last infinitesimal tactile sensation would be a gross understatement.

You dragged the tips of your fingers down the muscles of his abdomen, seeing how he deliciously flexed himself inside you, as you savored this in your own way too.

Sinking inch by inch, you could feel all the muscle stretches while his girth accommodated inside your walls, widening and filling you as he slipped in further. Your mouth opened in a muted moan, and with a hazy mind, you turned your face towards his, having the tip of his nose brushing over until your noses bumped against each other.

You captured his lips haphazardly, and Nanami stroked his tongue over your mouth, groaning the moment he bottomed out inside you.

You felt him almost kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock, and your mind was sent spiraling with the shivers that shot up from your lower abdomen to your entire body. It got you fluttering around his shaft, and Nanami's grip on your hip suddenly tightened, as a strained groan fell from his lips.

It took you a second to realize exactly what was going on.

"I-I… need… a second,” he mustered up to say in a cracked, coarse voice. His length was throbbing strongly inside you, and his expression looked almost pained. You noticed his fist beside your head was strongly clenched around the bedsheet.

Nanami wasn't lying when he said he was very wound up.

You planted a small, loving peck over his cheek and drew your hands to the back of his head, gently brushing your thumbs against his hair until you felt Nanami’s body relaxing, and his pulse inside you evening out to something calmer. He eventually let go of the bedsheet and drew his hand closer, tangling his fingers in your hair.

In an easy, gradual pace, Nanami began dragging his length out from you, and did so completely, pushing back inside the same way, robbing you of a gasp the moment he bottomed out again. His hips began in a steady, calm rhythm, and from your mouth, came out what he could only say were the best sounds he had ever heard.

“Fuck-- y-you feel… so good…” you purred for him, sending pleasured shivers all over his body. You were both completely covered in sweat right now, and your bodies slapped against each other, sounds only covered by your begging whimpers.

However, as good as it was, you needed more. Greedily, you felt the increasing need of being completely taken apart, and this slow love making was not doing it for you.

“Harder…” you pleaded, and Nanami picked up the pace as soon as he heard you, thrusts becoming more intense. It was better, no doubt about it, but you still wanted more.

Your hungry desire had become something indescribable, and all you could do was mumble softly in between mewls, pleading him to go even harder.

Nanami was also feeling himself grow more and more intent on satisfying your pleas, and realized this might not be the best position to do so.

He stopped for a second, and you muttered in complaint.

However, your disquiet was short-lived, as he propped himself up, manhandling your hips to accompany him and pulled one of your legs straight, letting your ankle rest on his shoulder, supporting your leg with his arm's length and hand cupping your ass. Your other leg kept hooked around him, and this shift sent his cock even deeper.

“Harder?” Nanami asked, almost as a dare, with his disheveled hair falling over his forehead, a few golden strands tangling with sweat. There was something remotely playful in his eyes, and it sent your heart pounding inside your chest to see him in a way you had never seen before.

Oh, how you coveted to freeze this moment in time.

In answer to his question, you nodded, half-lidded eyes and an anticipation smile, only to be surprised with a thumb making its way to your bottom lip, softly asking its way in.

You obliged, and put your lips around it, sucking on his thumb, basking in the view of this boulder of a man completely shuddering to the sight and sensation of that.

Nanami pulled his hand back, resting his digit over your clit.

“Hold on to something, darling” he warned, having a cheeky smile pulling on his face.

In sweet anticipation, you pressed your hands against the wall on which the bed rested, and locked eyes with Nanami, just to see him admiring you for a moment before he made a complete mess out of you.

In a sharp motion, he thrust his cock into you so intensely his tip bumped fully against your cervix, trembling the bed on its foundations. Your head launched on the pillow, your mouth falling open to let out the loudest moan — if that sound even be called a moan — you had ever uttered in your entire life.

Not sparing you a moment to recover, he retreated and plunged again and again inside your cunt, sending wet plap sounds bouncing over the walls. Nanami began rutting into you, kissing you deeper and deeper with every thrust, and you were nearly yelling from the pleasurable pain with which he had you finally crumbling down.

“Fuck,” he let out, “is this-- hah- hard enough--?” Nanami asked half in jest, knowing full well he didn’t need an answer. The way your back began arching so deliciously as you yelled and mumbled incoherently was enough of a response.

Every time he’d thrust, your body would tense up, and your walls would suck him in. It was sending his mind into a wild spiral.

Nanami was mesmerized by your face, and had the faintest feeling that he might cum from it alone. You looked and sounded like you were having the most delicious, toe-curling, gut-wrenching, blissful-stupor inducing sex of your life.

And well, up until at that moment, you actually were.

Dear God, he could die right now, and he’d die the happiest man alive.

You were having shock waves of stupor-filled pleasure shooting through your body, and Nanami began circling his thumb over your throbbing, sensitive clit. Oh boy, did he have you seeing the entire Milky Way in a split second behind your eyelids. Your mind distantly registered the noise of dragging wood and your fingers starting to struggle reaching support behind your head.

Is the bed pushing away from the wall? Are we literally rocking the bed? Holy shit.

A heat you rarely felt began to burn like incandescent molten lava in your belly, and you looked at him wide eyed, holding out onto some kind of desperation.

Nanami barely registered that you were looking at him like that when he felt the warm spurts, getting his entire crotch completely greased. You squirted so intensely that for a second you felt like you actually fell unconscious, before coming back to the second wave — the continuum of earth-shattering, convulsing orgasms that always followed it.

He wasn’t ready to have you squirt all over his cock so fervently, letting out the most heavenly, luscious, indecent and pornographic sounds he had ever heard.

He could never be prepared for that.

The sheer scent alone sent shivers throughout his entire body. Your scent was completely smeared over him, slowly dripping down his thighs.

With your walls tightening around his cock, his own peak took him by surprise, as much as he had tried to hold it away. The most animalistic and ferocious groan came out of his mouth as thick strands of white cum filled up the condom. Nanami's entire body jerked, making it incredibly difficult to keep pumping himself into you without risking pulling out too much by mistake, so he just let the convulsing waves finish washing down his body before collapsing on the bed by your side.

You both took a moment to breathe, then two, then three, still panting like you had just run a marathon.

Hell, you were probably panting even harder than that.

"I'm… I’m s-sorry about… the mess," you apologized, huffing and puffing, face blushing as you rolled your eyes back, still recovering from the aftershock.

Nanami instantly turned your face to his, mouth agape and gaze locked onto your lips, as he, without uttering a word, thrust his tongue inside your mouth in an open-mouthed, wet, sloppy kiss. All while still panting heavily.

Pulling back, you smiled, asking, “nothing to apologize for?”

He huffed, smiling back at you, “nothing.”

You both felt like you'd have the best night of sleep of your lives.

Nanami would not, however, as the thoughts he shoved away to the back of his mind earlier that night were about to take him into unwanted nightmares.

End notes:

I can’t reread this again. I just can’t. Hope I got all the typos out, lol. Old version of this fic is here. When I read it a few weeks ago, I came to the conclusion that I didn’t quite like it, so I decided to give it a go on rewriting it. Three rewrites later, here it is, hope you guys enjoyed it.

Tag list (for this fic + current AU tags):

@jadedjane @senseifupa @nikos-a-clown @fairy-corno @ldrcvlt

@magical-girl-b @montyrokz @hexrts-anatomy @g-kleran @otomesass

@redlikerozez @yammy-yammy-yama

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candywrithee · 9 months ago

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R ur requests open??? Can I please get a gender bent Rarity, Applejack, and Twilight x fem (or gn if you don't do fem specifically) Pegasus reader headcanons pretty please 🥺 idk if you do NSFW but if you don't I don't mind just fluff

Please I'm desperate🙏🙏 ❤️❤️❤️✨✨❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️🙏

Aight. No gender mentioned really :P

Dusk Shine, Elusive & Applejack w/a Pegasus Reader

1. Dusk Shine + Reader

Unicorn! Dusk will probably be annoyed if you're the type to prank him just because you can fly. But what you didn't know is that he just lets you prank him. You should know that by a spark of his magic, he can easily stop your pranks but he loves you too much that he loves to see you smile.

If you don't mind, can you help him carry or deliver things for him? Of course that is if you don't mind. He's just a little busy so he would appreciate your help in any way. Even if sometimes you have to convince HIM to let you help. He's a loner, he's used to being alone but then you swoop in into his personal space and he doesn't know what to do.

Alicorn! Dusk is a little more open. He still likes being alone but now he doesn't mind or grumble to anypony wanting to hang out with him. Therefore, you are more than allowed to be more lovey dovey with him just as long as you know how to limit them. He's still a little shy.

Now that he has wings, you two can fly together now! Which lead to a lot of fun small races against each other. More than once, ponies of equestria can see blurs of two different colours in the sky and Rainbow Blitz interrupting y'all to join in the race.

Overall, whichever Dusk is, he still loves you in his own interesting way.

"DUUUUUSK JUST LET ME HELP!"

"Fine but don't complain when you're in the middle of doing it." He proceeds to hang you books and scrolls in a bag and kiss your forehead because he's not brave to kiss your cheek.

2. Elusive + Reader

Drama King and his unbothered lover or his whipped lover. Whichever dynamic you prefer.

Hope you don't mind dolling up for him. As soon as you step into his boutique, you getting dragged immediately to dress up. You're a perfect model to test out outfits for pegasuses. However if you told him to stop, he'll stop. He knows boundaries, he has them himself. Plus, he loves you.

He'll probably ask you to help him deliver and fetch things for him. No need to ask if you could help. You probably help him immediately if you noticed how panicked his state is in. Don't worry! He'll give you a kiss or an outfit when you've done your duty! Whichever you wanted more or comfortable with.

His little brother, Poppet Bell, loves you! Can you carry him? Bring him up to fly?? PLEEEEEEEEEEAAAAASEEE! If you gave into his puppy eyes, you'd make Elusive worried sick. Please don't fall or let his brother fall, as if you would.

"My dear, you truly gave me a scare when I suddenly saw you up with Poppet while I was in the market... Why did you even do that?"

"I succumbed to his puppy dog eyes hehe."

"Goodness my dear."

3. Applejack + Reader

Oh wow you're helpful for the farm. Is what applejack thinks at first. Please don't be mad at him, his whole life is contributed to his farm and family. But hey! At least you're now part of his family.

He won't force you into work (he also needs a little convincing) but if you did help him, you'd be too focused in what you're helping with to notice how he looks at you with basically apple hearts in his eyes. You had to find that out when Apple Buck gave pretended to vomit which embarrassed Applejack greatly. Macareina even told you that Applejack looks you the way their father looks at their mom, absolutely whipped. Don't even get me started on Grandpa Smith.

If you want, you can try racing against him like that one fall episode. He'll easily beat you or if you're very athletic, you can excel or match his pace. Either way, he'll comfort you and/or be proud of you.

"Can you help collect that side of the farm, sugar cube? It's okay if you don't want to hun."

"We talk about thiss.. I'll help you with anything you ask for!"

"Thank you sugar. I'm still not use to asking for help.."

"Bleugrh can you two lovebirds get back to apple picking already?!" You and Applejack proceed to laugh at Apple Buck's disgusted face but Applejack's laugh is more bashful.

#mlp genderbend #my little pony #genderbend #mlp fim #mlp x reader #my little pony x reader #mlp #x reader #my little pony genderbend #genderbend mlp #dusk shine #elusive #applejack

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slowlystupendousdelusion · 2 months ago

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Lemme vomit up what I remember of the improv night then

-notable mention for DT's 'what on earth have I agreed to' mock fear grimace as he was introduced

Okay so I was kind of expecting 2 or so hours of cloying embarrassment, but turns out he is also good at this? It put me in mind of some of those Radio 4 comedy panel shows which he has done before so idk why I didn't have faith. He didn't really stumble, was funny and generally a good sport.

What I remember:

- little warm up bit before DT joined the stage where the audience do the sound effects for the scene. Audience suggestion for 'location for a date' was (perhaps a bit premature given he wasn't even on stage yet) St James Park. PM & SW decided to interpret this as St James Park of Newcastle United fame

- first bit with them on stage was them telling a story but the person speaking switched as the keyboardist changed who he was pointing at sometimes mid-word. Famous/fictional person selected by the audience was Elon Musk (to DT's evident distaste). Inanimate object chosen was a toilet brush. Story involved Musk using a kitten who has ambitions of becoming a democrat as a toilet brush with mentions of various famous democrats in animal costumes.

- they had a bit with PM & DT where they went through the alphabet and each line started with the next letter. Small object suggested by audience was leprechaun. (It was noted that a leprechaun isn't an object) From this we had Irish accents which I'm not sure I've heard DT do before? Also PM mucked up the alphabet on the second go through which was fun

- a bit where PM had to guess his own occupation as suggested by the audience. (Microsoft font designer who uses bananas from a supermarket called David whilst wearing pink pyjamas). DT brought out another accent for his Bill Gates impression and then thoroughly confused PM by being himself to try and give the name of the supermarket.

- another section with 2 on stage in conversation where every response had to be a question and when they failed they got swapped out. One of them was a priest? Somehow dinosaurs were mentioned? DT did both a Chandler impression and a Joey 'how you doin'?'

- there was a scene (I don't think DT was in this one but was watching from the side) where the audience were asked for a hobby (badminton). I think the keyboardist could tell them to change the response for a better one? Each response somehow got increasingly horny.

- A scene with DT & SW as dentists (suggested by audience) where the genre changed with audience suggestions including: musical (obv we like to start big), tarantino (more American accent!), opera (DT's response: "fuck off!" before going ahead and doing it), David Lynch (more American accent), rock opera finale. AND HE WAS ANNOYINGLY GOOD. What do you mean he can hold some kind of a tune while coming up with lyrics about dentistry that kind of rhyme off the cuff?? Also mad how many innuendos can be applied to dentists. Lots of getting drilled and sucking. I do think we as an audience missed a trick by not shouting out Shakespeare as a genre loud enough though.

-another section where they interviewed a scientist (interested in javelin playing elephants as per audience suggestion) where three of them were doing the responses but one word at a time. DT got a little muddled at one point but endearingly so.

- A bit with DT returning a toaster to the shop (SW), but an audience member had to move them into position. This led to an accordion toaster as the sizes kept changing. Kudos to Nan cause if they had pulled me up on stage to do that I think I would have died on the spot. And I probably would have inadvertently put them into a far awkwarder position than just her kneeling in front of him. Also v brave of him to be up for a random audience member touching him tbh.

- I can't remember the context of this but DT called someone a cunt and this caught SW so offguard that she couldn't stop laughing

-there was a hospital scene similar to the dentist one, but instead of genres changing it was the emotions (including ecstasy, menopausal and melancholy.) DT wasn't involved in this one.

- a scene where each of them was doing the speaking for someone else. I'm not sure I've explained that right but basically when PM was speaking it was SW lipsyncing and when SW was speaking it was DT lipsyncing etc etc. Based on a person being shot at a station waiting for a delayed train to Edinburgh. DT got confused multiple times during this.

- DT & PM were neighbours discussing a fence dispute where some of the lines where picked from a bucket of audience suggestions written in the interval. Ended with "you can't leave this bookshop" but was spoken by PM so didn't really get to see much of a DT reaction to it.

I've definitely forgotten a bunch here so feel free to add stuff!

- 500 miles at the end (which I think went on longer than they were expecting)

#oh look - a write up of an improv comedy show which has surgically removed all of the comedy (sorry)#david tennant #paul merton & suki webster

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acourtofthought · 23 days ago

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Sure, SJM included information on how certain bonds aren't well matched but why do people read that excerpt and stop there? Since when are single lines meant to be taken as the only evidence that someone needs when trying to build an intelligent argument?

We are told that the bonds that are poorly matched are ones given to a pairing that are not ideal in spirit. They are not an indication of true, paired souls.

Let's think on what the author has told us about Elain and Lucien as individuals. Lucien suffered extreme cruelty and violence at the hands of his brothers and father yet learned to keep his cool. He vomited at the sight of the fairies wings (or lack thereof) because of what happened to Jesminda. While he is trained as a warrior, he does not prefer that life and said that he hopes he never has to fight in another battle as long as he lives. Compare all that to the Inner Circle who has no issues torturing their enemies in extremely creative ways. Az and Rhys who did not "keep their cool" when it came to Az's step-brothers, or the Attor. Az when it came to Eris's soldiers or Cassian when it came to those who played any part in what happened to his mother. Cassian and Az who continue their training as warriors and train others (perpetuating the cycle of battle / war). Even Nesta when it came to Hybern when she decided to cut off his head and stood there staring at it. Which of the above does Elain's "spirit" most closely match? Elain who is absolutely willing to save those she loves but is still bothered by cruelty. Elain who returned TT and walked away without looking back. Elain who made Feyre swear not to harm Graysen no matter what. Elain who has been rejected by two different guys yet never did anything cruel in retaliation, she didn't even raise her voice to either one. Let's also consider the author's own words. It's fine to say, "they don't need to end up together just because of an interview!" but why would Sarah lie about what Elain and Lucien enjoy? "They are pretty much happy to be out in nature the most." Not only do we have the interview where she says the above but the books support it what with evidence of Lucien having had a campsite, with his ease at killing and cleaning fish, with the references to his hunting, with the mentions of him glowing under the sunlight, with him looking as if he were crafted from the forest. And of course we know that Elain is our resident Earth Goddess as she's a gentle grower of things who looks alive when out in her gardens, who believes the world needs more of them, who is always sitting by the sunniest windows as if any bit of darkness is abhorrent and for whom Night Court black sucks the life out of. Have we been given any confirmation that Az is at ease out in nature? That he embodies the great outdoors? That he comes alive under the sun? Quite the contrary actually as we're told only one single shadow was brave enough to face it and the shadows are as much a part of Az as Az himself. Sure he listened to Elain talk about her gardens but has he ever gone out to help her because he also enjoys it? (And no, sitting outside in the sun one time with Elain does not equal enjoyment of nature, that's like telling a sunbather at the beach they enjoy nature as much as someone who enjoys hiking the Appalachian Trail and has a Rewards Card at REI and Bass Pro Shop). Lucien and Elain both readily apologize whereas I think the only person Az apologized to was Nesta in a different series. Lucien and Elain are quick to let go of past prejudices where Az hangs on to them like his favorite blankie. Lucien and Elain are both affectionate and forthcoming with praise for their friends and family where Az is often reserved and stoic. Lucien and Elain are also both fairly humble where Az is definitely not, he's fairly arrogant at times.

So really, when Elain and Lucien's core values match on a much deeper level than what we see compared to Elain and any other character, how can anyone doubt that their bond is one that is matched in spirit? That they are one another's other half, a mirror reflection? That doesn't necessarily mean they have to end up together but I don't think anyone can argue that they wouldn't be well matched. Therefore constantly referring back to the discussion Feyre and Rhys had only further supports why Elain and Lucien were give a truly matched bond and why her personality is much more suited to Lucien than Az.

#Az and Elain would be the cautionary tale for a pairing that doesn't work out #Soft and Fiery with someone a bit Cruel and Cold #Lyria and Rowan equal Elain and Az #Not someone he would have picked for himself as she's a more gentle sort of strength and he was a warrior #Sarah is a like calls to like author #pro elucien #elain archeron #pro elain archeron #pro lucien vanserra #anti e/riel #lucien vanserra #elucien #lucien and elain

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ro-writesstuff · 3 months ago

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a closer look - dad!mattyau

minors do not interact, all fics are 18+

summary- you and matty take a hard look at your relationship when the kids are being babysat.

a/n: this took me like a week to write my goodness. please enjoy as i almost lost my mind over this fic😌

content warnings: serious talk about relationship, smut, daddy kink, swearing, angst, almost 3k wc (yes i got carried away. worth it? absolutely.)

“matty, we seriously need to talk.”

shit. you’re divorcing him.

“sure, love.”

***

things were different.

not the ‘we’re having problems’ that eventually turns into a divorce, but things between you and matty certainly haven’t been happy-go-lucky. sure, you had your own family and a work life balance to figure out, but something felt like it was missing.

conversations started to feel redundant, one person anticipating what the other was going to say, mouthing the words as they were being said. days felt invariably tiresome, the standard 'how was your day?' talks turning into a minute conversation ending in a mumbled 'love you' and a kiss good night, with nothing more.

you always knew that matty loved you, and he knew that you reciprocated that same feeling. but now with picking up the kids, and matty coming home and spending time with them right before sending them to bed with a bedtime story and you getting nothing more than a cheek kiss made your relationship feel… well, hollow.

and you thought, maybe he’s just having a rough day, but days turned into weeks of passing glances. you tried cheering him up with little notes and texts of ‘i love you!’ and ‘proud of you!’ but you got nothing more than a heart emoji and a ‘thanks love’.

and it's not that he wasn't appreciative of the gestures; he was quite fond of them, truly. it got him through most of his late night sessions with the boys, hearing that same few notes on loop trying to figure out what the hell was wrong with it. it was the little things you did that made him feel remembered and cherished.

he just didn't know how to tell you that he wanted you, and you alone: his wife, his partner. not the nurturing, compassionate 'mother y/n', or the 'hardworking y/n' that was actually fucking competent amongst the idiots that worked with you. he was so, so grateful of those versions of you, but he’d slowly started to forget the intimate moments of just the two of you.

matty craved the playful, contagious laugh he heard when he snuck up behind you to scare you or the judgmental stare-down after a terrible joke he came up with all by himself.

he missed the real you.

after confiding in george and charli, she suggested that she and george take the twins for the weekend for you two to ‘sort it out’. her fiancé agreed, more than happy to help you guys out, sending you off with a hug and a sliver of hope.

***

the dreaded weekend finally arrived, and the doorbell rang and it was none other than the couple, ready whisk away your kids with a caring smile. you and matty gather the twins as they follow their aunt and uncle, them babbling to each other as charli and george get them settled in the car.

matty presses the door creaks shut as your arms fold, deciding how to go about this. sure you guys have had rough conversations in the past, but nothing like this. you were always on the same page, thought the same, acted the same, so being unknown to the other was quite scary.

a odd silence falls over the room, the only noise being heard from the air conditioning and the car starting outside.

matty leans against the door for support, his stomach swirling and heart pounding, feeling like he was going to vomit. he doesn’t think he’s been this nervous since your wedding day.

he wipes his palms on his slacks, taking a deep breath he starts with a brave smile,

“so-”

instinctively, his hand reaches for the small of your back, glimpses of just the two together slowly appearing his mind. then it hits him.

it’s just you two.

nerves getting the better of him and his hand drops in defeat behind you. “what’d you want to talk about, love?”

his voice was low and unsteady; he didn’t know what was about to happen. he was about to lose you forever for all he thought.

your head tilts towards the dining room chairs, the room filled with highly pitched laughs and smiles not too long ago now in a state of anxiety and stillness. matty sits across from you, resting his interlaced fingers on the table, wedding band catching the light, and it quickly feels like you're being interviewed.

“um,"

you really didn't know what to say. the quiet of the room was thick, almost suffocating. your lips parted, the words intending to come out, but getting stuck in your throat, the sound being lost. the uncomfortable truth of what has been happening between you lately was now suddenly so overwhelming.

matty sees you struggling, and his heart aches. "you can say it. it's just me, y'know."

the words hang in the air for a moment, still and heavy.

"i know." you clear your throat, eyes landed on his folded hands across the table from you. a deep breath echoes in the room: here goes everything.

"matty, do you still love me?”

a quiet buzz seeps from the wall.

he lightly scoffs at the absurdity of the question, quickly realizing you’re serious and recalibrates his reaction. he can’t believe what he’s heard.

worry and fret practically ate him alive for the last few days, every scenario playing through his mind. here he thought he was going to sign divorce papers and share custody, losing the love of his life in the process. and that's what you wanted to talk about? if he still loves you? he smiles at the question, ease spreading in his chest.

loving you was like breathing to him.

“of course i do,” he reassures. his hands find their way to yours, the warmth transferring to you, calming you down a bit. "i love you. so so much, y/n." his eyes are full of sincerity and love.

relief fills your lungs as matty squeezes your hands. oh thank god. you hadn't heard those three words in a while and was afraid you might never again. after what felt like months of him just living next to you and the kids, it felt nice knowing he was there again. you take a shaky breath.

“why would you ever-?” his eyebrows furrow, brain distraught at the thought.

“i don't- i don't know,” you cut in anxiously, losing eye contact. “just sometimes feels like you don’t want me around.”

his smile drops as he grips the bottom of his chair, the wood legs hurriedly scrapes across the floor, his familiar scent engulfing the air surrounding you.

the words ping-pong in his head. doesn't want you around? that was the opposite of what he wanted.

“oh, baby. I didn’t know you were feeling this way,” he says, mentally beating himself up to let you think that was a reality. "didn't mean to make you feel like that. i always want you near me."

his lips connect to your temple as the anxiety dissolves like sugar into water. they linger there for a moment, his breath hitting your skin, the feeling familiar and intimate. his arm slings around you too, and you jump slightly. the simple contact causes you breath to even in the somewhat quiet room.

you sit in each other’s presence, the familiarity easing the situation.

“can i ask you something,” he says shifting awkwardly in his seat. you can feel the anxiety radiating off him. you nod intently.

his voice softens and is vulnerable, fragile. “do you still want me?”

what?

“yes. yeah, of course,” the words rush out on their own. “why?-” you voice drifts off, not knowing where to go.

he shrugs.

he just didn’t know what to do. every time he tried to touch you- a hand on your hip, on the small of your back, your ass, anything really- you moved away. it was something that never happened before which was extremely off-putting to him. after multiple failed attempts he felt somewhat like a whore and embarrassed of his actions, so he just quit altogether.

and you didn’t mean to, you just preoccupied with something else.

you were getting physically and emotionally further away from him. was he supposed to just ask you if you still thought of him like that? he didn’t want to pry.

“just something we haven’t done in a long time,” his voice drops, low and vulnerable. his thick fingers fidget with the ripped denim lying on your knee. “didn’t know if you thought i was still-“

“sexy?”

his small chuckle fills the room, soothing the tension. his smile is radiant, making your heart skip a beat. “yes. sexy.”

you smile, finally feeling reconnected with him. the air’s a bit thinner now, ease filling the room as you look up at him. a picture of matty shirtless pops into your mind, his tattoos tightening around his skin when he tenses his arms, his muscular eyes taking in every inch of your body; you squeeze your thighs together at the thought.

“i think about you like that all the time.” more than you’d like to admit, to be frank.

“like what?” he wonders.

“shirtless and,"

sweaty. desperate. hard, you thought. the thought of him makes you dizzy, your heart beat faster as he starts to lean closer to you.

“i do too,” he hums. “maybe we can revisit that idea, angel?” he tucks a strand behind your ear, bodies close and tense, and you feel his ragged breath reach your skin. his eyes lock with yours, lust and want swirling throughout them.

entranced, you swallow, his gaze burning through you as your lower stomach starts to heat. god, how he makes you feel like a teenager.

your cunt begins to pulse as his thumb drags against your bottom lip, slow. he lurches towards you, connecting your lips after what feels like an eternity. finally, he’s getting a real, meaningful kiss from you and not a routine one. he feels his dick twitch in his pants.

the feeling urges his hands to meet the sides of your face as his tongue dances with yours, hands careful and supportive. your lips are swollen and red when he untangles his lips with yours, a soft moan leaving it. your fingers hurriedly tug at his curly locks as his hand go to your pants, fiddling with the button, but suddenly stopping.

hands suddenly connect to your hips as he pulls your weight on top of his. you squeal at the action as matty moans in your mouth, reconnecting his lips with yours.

he tugs on the hem of your shirt, “okay if i-?”

you hum.

“words, sweet girl.”

“uh huh,” you reply, “please.”

lifting your arms up he throws it somewhere on the other side of the room. you do the same, revealing his chest and part of his ‘we are kings’ tattoos, causing your breath to hitch and mouth to hang open slightly.

whimpers and sounds fly through the air, lips pressing together with passion and desire. grinding your hips down on his, matty unclasps your bra, taking your nipple into his mouth. your eyes shut at the feeling.

his hand slides across to support your lower back as his cold wedding band touches your blazing skin, you whimpering quietly at the contact. he growls against your collarbone, “mmm, missed your little sounds.”

your hips writhe constantly against his, feeling him get harder and harder with every movement. fuck, you want him so bad.

suddenly he pushes you off him as he stands up. “jump,” he commands. you wrap your legs around him as he catches you in his arms. you feel his soft lips again as he bring you over to the bedroom. he slips as his eyes widen, holding you securely as he looks down for a moment.

“found your shirt,” he chuckles as you laugh with him; a real laugh he’s been aching to hear. the tension and anxiety subsides, the small but intimate moment reminding you it’s just matty. the sound reverbs through the house, and a thought pops into his head:

he's so lucky.

he takes the opportunity to latch his lips onto your neck as he moves his way to the bedroom.

he gently opens the door to your bedroom, throwing you on the sheets. his lips roam your body as he slowly peels your jeans off you. “can i-?” he asks, already hooking his fingers under your drenched panties. you nod.

he swipes a finger through your folds, cunt tensing at the contact. he sees your chest heaving, smiling to himself as his nose nudges your clit. he slides two fingers in, and out, in and out against your spongy walls. his tongue laps at your folds, keeping his rhythm, reveling in the whimpers and sounds he hasn’t heard in a long time.

hands grip the sheets, a signal to him you’re close. smiling to himself, he speeds up. “matty,” you warn, the coil in your lower stomach starting to come undone. “oh fuck-”

“i know princess,” he says. he’s mesmerized, eyes glazed over at the sight of you. a dream, he thinks. “so gorgeous like this.”

your hips father against his hand, his name falling from your lips again and again as his fingers thrust you through your orgasm. your body buzzes with pleasure as he kisses close to the apex of your thighs. you arch your back at the feeling, matty supporting you with his arm, sucking your clit and smiling at the sounds you make at the overstimulation.

mumbles of praise come from matty as you come down off your high. he

you smile hazily. "hi."

his eyes meet yours. "hi, love."

“can i suck you off?”

he considers the offer, but ultimately decides no. yes he loves it when your lips are wrapped around his dick, but he hasn’t had you in so, so long. he needs to feel you. matty giggles at your offer, kissing you sweetly. “another time baby. need you, not your mouth.”

your nimble fingers hook around his boxers, pulling them down to reveal his throbbing erection. he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “you comfortable?”

“yeah,” you smile.

an idea pops into his head.

a devilish smile appears on his face. “ah,” he takes a sharp inhale as his hand moves to your hip, “yes, what, sweet girl?”

you smile at the allusion, memories of you using the word for the first and many times, “yes, daddy.”

you both feel his dick twitch. “fuck,” he moans. “I’ve missed that.”

your lips part as your stomachs swirls at his words, him giving you a chaste kiss as he lines himself up to your cunt. he pushes inside you, both of you moaning at the contact. he swears quietly as you hiss at the contact.

“shit.” he moans.

as you squeeze against him, he sees stars. “feel so good clenching around me like that.”

his moves his hips faster, slamming himself into you again, your moans encouraging him to go faster. his lips fall to your neck, sucking and lightly scraping the skin with his teeth. his hips buck against yours, gasps coming from both of you.

“mattymattymatty,” is all you can manage as he pounds into you, climax starting to knock the wind out of you, gasping and chest heaving.

“fuck, come for me honey, oh fuck me-” he rambles.

you scream his name, digging your nails into his back as he cums inside you, feeling the hot liquid spurt against your walls. hot breaths and groans of your name accompany his release, as his curls stick to his sweaty forehead. matty drops his weight on top of you, chest sticky as his heart beats hard against yours. you stay there for a while, catching your breath, both fucked out and content.

muscle memory kicks in for him, and he makes his way to the bathroom to fetch a warm towel for you, humming as he does so, as well as grabbing plain black t shirt. he returns with the items as a comfortable silence falls over the room.

matty clears his throat. “how’d that feel?” he says, wiping the towel against your skin.

“really good.”

he hums, placing a few kisses on the soft skin of your thighs. he rests his head there as you comb your fingers through his curls. he missed these intimate moments, now so happy it's returned. “i’m really glad we talked,” he whispers.

“me too.” you share a smile, and he lifts himself to place a sweet kiss on your face and lips. placing the towel on the nightstand next to you, he slots himself in between your legs, head resting on the inside of your thighs.

you tangle your hand in his hair comfortably, earning a satisfied sound from him. “i love you,” your voice is barely above a whisper.

"i love you so much more, y/n,” he mumbles before sleep tugs at both of you, succumbing to it.

***

your eyes flutter to sunshine spilling through the blinds of the room, perfectly highlighting matty's thick curls and sleeping figure below you. happiness spreads through your chest, sighing as you take in your husband’s features.

starting to wake up, he stretches outwardly, body slow and weak from sleep. his body arches beneath you as satisfaction and pleasure replace the sluggish feeling. he feels your soft skin against his own, the warmth and love emitting from you is captivating. voice still laced with sleep he looks down at you, "good mornin', gorgeous."

an even wider smile appears on your face. his accent's always more prominent in the morning.

"hi handsome." a content sigh slips from his mouth.

he hums at the pet name, hands wandering all through your hair, savoring the image and feel. he's never felt so close to you as he was right now; he would stay here for the rest of his life.

you push yourself off him as the sheets ruffle, matty pulling you closer than he ever has. "baby, i need to pee,” you chuckle.

“nuh uh,” he shakes his head, curls tickling your skin.

“please?” you try, slowly being convinced to stay.

again, his curls shake, replying in the negative. you laugh at the sensation, again trying to move. “i’ll be less than ten meters from you, let me go!” you cry.

“what if you meet another guy?” he teases, as he cups your face -you’re now able to see his perfect one- and connects the back of his hand to his forehead, dramatically throwing his head back, "what am i to do?" you can’t help but laugh.

he's so dramatic.

playfully, you raise up his left hand in between your bodies, the piece of metal glimmering in the morning sun. “may i remind you-?”

he pouts his lips, pretending to think for a moment. his head returns to the soft skin of your neck, “‘m not taking my chances. you'd better stay, beautiful." suddenly, the sheets ruffle as matty flips you, pinning you underneath him.

his lips drag down to your neck to your breasts, hips, then the sides of your thighs. slowly, his hands push your legs open.

“you're mine, and mine always.”

#matty healy x you #matty healy angst #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy oneshot #matty the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #adam hann #Ross Macdonald #George Daniel #matty #the 1975 #bfiafl #iliwys #matty healy smut #matty healy fluff #matty healy #matty healy x reader #matty healy comfort #box band

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introspectivememories · 3 months ago

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thinking about that one post that's been popping off about greek/roman cultures getting sorted into this weird binary of "greek = literature&humanities" and "roman = weird alt-right guys. war!!!" and like op is goes into way more depth and originally i was going to leave this in the tags but i didn't want to like word vomit in the tags but to add my 2 cents u can see it in children's books too. look at fucking pjo/hoo

chb gets to be the fun summer camp where 'children grow into heroes!!!' and all that jazz but cj is the strict military camp??? chb gets to have fun elective classes like underwater basket weaving and canoeing but cj brands you with a spqr mark and a bar for every year of service???? not to mention how weird that is when rr's lame ass wrote that cj fought for the confederacy??? chb has capture the flag! cj has war games. chb's oracle wears paint splattered jeans lol 🤪cj's oracle is power hungry and brutally mutilates stuffed animals 😐

and not only did he write the camps like this. the charas from each camp is written like this too!!! percy is fun and charming. jason is there. annabeth is spunky and witty. reyna is... stern. dakota has an alcoholism problem but bc it's a children's book he drinks kool-aid instead??? the satyrs bravely guide the greek demigods to their home at chb. the romans have to face The Wolf b4 coming to cj. and if they fail? they die. they just die. and they've been doing it that way forever. there's a wolf who kills their fellow demigods bc she deems the weak and everyone in cj just fucking goes on with their lives. the gods interact with chb. do they even know that cj exists???

imperial gold, the main metal used by the roman demigods, is constantly in shortage? they have to go on quests to find more of it???? meanwhile, there never seems to be a shortage of celestial bronze???? if you choose to stay at chb, you might die an early death but you can still interact with the world at large. if you choose to stay at new rome, you'll be safe but you're essentially isolated from the rest of the world.

okay that last point might be a little unfair but like this shit drives me crazy!!!! he just wrote the romans like they were temu chb. chb with all the sparkle gone. like he didn't even try. as if the romans didn't have their own myths. as if the romans didn't write poetry or make graffiti. as if the romans weren't their own separate culture!!!!

#also to op if they every see this. sorry. ik u were talking about classics but this is all i know.#[tyrese voice] this is all i got #like 90% of this can be chalked up to rr being a bad writer but that doesnt make it less infuriating #and like jason is my blorbo forever and he's roman but by the end of the series hes very clearly more greek than roman #and that drives me insane!!!! jason who's been at cj since he was 2 is now practically a greek #jace who is literally cj's child. rome's favored son.... is now what? climbing the lava wall at chb???#if you dont get that boy back in a toga sweeping the temples on the hill rn....#the imperial gold situation is genuinely so funny to me. like rr couldnt even hide his distaste.#dont even get me started on the fauns in cj. they're lazy??? they're useless??? they /beg for money/????#ohhh rr im exploding u with my mind #also the dakota complaint probably doesn't belong on this list but i couldnt help but mention it #like he was insane for that #also the way chb is written with the equivalent of like a warm hug meanwhile no one fucking likes each other at cj #oh hoo. you should've just been about the romans. it's not your fault. you were doomed from the beginning #everyday i mourn what could've been #and thats my monthly 'the romans deserved better' rant outta the way #see yall again this time in april #jason grace #pjo hoo toa #rr crit

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mrsparrasblog · 1 year ago

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MAKAROV X PRICE DAUGHTER FINAL PART (PRICE ENDING)

TW: Blood, dead

previous part part one

As Price watched your wedding from afar, a thousand thoughts swept through him. He couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for the moments he had missed in your life, the milestones he hadn't been there to witness. But amidst the regret, there was love and pride in seeing you so radiant, even if the circumstances were far from ideal. You grew up to be a beautiful woman like he always imagined; you were graceful, confident, and full of joy. If this wedding were just something different, something he could be happy about, god, he would rather have married you off to some bloke than a fucking terrorist.

His mind raced with thoughts of how he could have intervened earlier and how he could have protected you from falling into the hands of a man like Vladimir Makarov. Yet he knew deep down that you were strong, resilient, and had made your own choices, even if they weren't the ones he would have wanted for you. Thoughts flowed through his brain: did you choose him freely? Did you know what Makarov was? Why did you vanish from the world? You probably had Stockholm syndrome; there wouldn’t be a chance in hell that his sweet, smart girl fell in love willingly with a man like Makarov.

As he wiped away his tears, Price made a silent vow to himself. He may not have been your protector in the past, but he would be damned if he didn't become your guardian now.

He waited what felt like ages for him to finally see you for a second alone. You were headed to the bathroom, and the wide wedding dress mopped the floor. Makarov was speaking to some politicians, and that was his only chance. He gave Ghost the agreed signal: don’t hurt Civis; kill that bastard and save you.

He heard you vomiting, so he walked inside the bathroom. He already knew what it meant, but he didn’t want to think or even believe this, there was a different time to sort out that problem.

You turned around, being sure that Vlad had intruded on your space. He was always so overprotective, but you knew he would be even worse after this news, but did you really mind?

You gasped as you saw him—your father. He looked older than you remembered; he had more wrinkles, worried eyes, and a completely unshaven beard. "Dad?“

"Oh God, Sweetie, “ he said, almost running the few steps over to you. He embraced you in a tight hug, trying his best to hide his tears. Everyone believed you were dead; they wanted him to mourn you, hold a wake to you, and finally declare you dead but he knew you were alive, and now you stood there in front of him, with a confused look in your beautiful eyes—but alive.

"I didn't think you would make it, Dad,“ you said bluntly while mustering him. It had been so long since you last saw him.

"Are you hurt? Did he do anything to you?“ He started to grab your arms, pulling the sleeves up, looking for any bruises or any indication that Makarov had hurt you. God, he personally wanted to gut that bastard out.

"No Dad, Im fine; Vlad would never hurt me.“

"He is a terrorist, Sweetie; he kills for money.“

"I know, but he has his reasons, Dad. He never would hurt me or do something bad without a reason.“

He looked towards you with a saddened expression, taking your delicate hands in his calloused ones. "Look, I get it. You had a rough time, didn’t you? Your head tricked you into thinking that you love him and that he is this prince from a fairytale, but he isn't; none of this is real.“

You were fuming at this accusation. How had he the audacity on your wedding day?"I'm not stupid, Dad.“

"You're not stupid; you’re brave.“

"He doesn’t hurt me; he protects me and takes care of me, Dad.“

"And what if he changes his mind? If you’ll be the victim of his actions? Please see reason.“

"At least he doesn’t leave me all the time." Spite and pure spite made you say these words: You always loved your dad more than anything else in your life, but he left you; he loved Tina more; he never cared about you; at least that's what you thought.

"Im sorry- I really am for being such a shitty Dad to you, but I love you more than anything, and I know you deserve a better old man, but you also deserve better than marrying a man who isn’t capable of loving. Come home with me; I divorced your stepmom; I will retire okay; no more deployment; no more war; just you and me and Tina if she wants to stay with us,“ he pleaded. He wanted you so bad to agree.

"Dad, I can't; I'm pregnant." You told him the news, and you were sure he would give up by that, but his expression didn’t change, almost as if he already knew.

"Sweetie, I'll help you, okay? And you can still see Vlad just come home, even if it's just for a bit, okay?“ He didn’t know how to help you anymore; besides lying to you, he knew it would stain your relationship even more, but right now, everything that counted was to have you leave this place.“

"You really would.“

"Of course.“

"Thank you, Dad,“ you mumbled and stood up on your way to leave the bathroom to tell Vlad that your Dad kinda accepts him for the baby's sake.

"Wait“

"Hm?“

"Let your old man hug you,“ with that, he pulled you into one of his famous bear hugs, softly stroking your beautiful hair.

When you left the bathroom, you saw Vlad, the supposed love of your life, your husband limp on the ground. The guards lay dead in different corners, and the wedding party was gone. You were only gone for 20 minutes, and everything was ruined.

You ran over to Vlad, hugging his limp body, trying to search for a pulse or anything but gone. You pressed his body closer to yours, and your eyes slowly started to build tears. The sobs only grew louder as you mumbled I love you all over and over again in Russian to him. You weren’t even sure if you were able to tell him that you loved him, and now he is gone. „You lied to me, Dad,“ was all you said to the military man in front of you, who looked at you like you were a zoo animal. Your white dress had already turned the prettiest shade of maroon.

Your Dad walked towards you, trying to pick you up, but you didn’t want to leave Vlad's body.

"He is dead, Sweetie.“ he crunched next to you.

"You lied to me.“

"I know,“ he picked you up, ignoring your protest, but he also held you the whole night while you cried in his arms, not for one second judging you that you fell in love with Vlad, never dismissing your grief; he was for once in your life there for you.

————————————

1 year later

You moved in with your Dad again, he indeed retired from the military. His friend and aunt Kate helped at first, but now you managed, even got your old job back that you loved so much. Your Dad sent you to therapy, and after a while, you got it—this wasn’t love, this was fear—and you're free now. This made you resent the baby inside your belly first, but when little James was born, everything was different, and you didn’t connect him with Vlad.

You were afraid your Dad wouldn’t accept little James, but he did. He carried him proudly around, showing it off to his old squad, especially the new Captain of the squad, Captain MacTavish, or anything like that. Your Dad always carried a pacifier in his bag, always a picture of James, Tina, and you in his wallet. He was finally at peace, and so were you.

The End

So this is Price ending , its the first fanfic Drabble whatever I finished, and through the whole process I thought what if my reader don't like the ending, what if its lame or anything but then I thought you don't need always Drama for a good fic or an different love interest ending, sometimes the ending is just good because she finally has what she always craved a family bond.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride , @paintlavillered

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #captain john price #john price #makarov x you #makarov x reader #call of duty makarov #cod makarov #vladimir makarov #john price cod #captain price #price #141 #cod fic #captain johnathan price

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strongheartneteyam · 2 years ago

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Not the type of girl for you.

Pairing: Neteyam Sully x human!nurse!female!reader

CW: a bit of angst but mostly fluff, wounded neteyam, mentions of blood (nothing graphic but reader is a nurse, right?), friends to lovers, kissing, physical contact, cute neteyam, sexual tension, hurt/comfort, anxious reader, reader thinks neteyam won’t ever have romantic feelings for her because she’s human, love confessions, neteyam flirting with reader

Another one of my works that had been forgotten for ages on my Google Docs and i’m now reviving this pookie and posting it for you guys to see lol comments and reblogs will make me feel so loved and supported! I love you guys so much 💓🌿

na'vi words: sevin tawtute (pretty human), syulang (flower)

Slightly proofread.

⋆°⋆ ��͟͞͞➳❥

I love you, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I love you

I didn't mean to say what I said

I miss you, I mean it, I tried not to feel it

I can't get you out of my head

I'm not the type of girl for you

And I'm not going to pretend

That I'm the type of girl you'd call more than a friend

Your Type (Carly Rae Jepsen)

⋆°⋆ ͟͟͞͞➳❥

“Look, if I don’t tell you this now I don’t think I’ll ever have the courage to, so… Here it goes…” You said as you wrapped a bandage around Neteyam’s wound after you had cleaned it the best you could but there was still a bit of blood in it. It was natural, though. "I..." You sighed nervously "I like you. I'm sorry..."

You finished tending to his wound and left the bandage at the cold metal table right next to where Neteyam was sitting down while you took care of the wounded areas in his body.

Neteyam looked at you, confused and surprised. He didn't expect to hear those words... at all. He always thought you only saw him as a friend.

"I know nothing will ever happen between us, Teyam, and I don't expect you to answer. Honestly, you can just walk out of here or ask someone else to care for your wounds. I understand if you don't ever wanna see me again. I don't want you to think of me as clingy or that I'm trying to force something because I..." Neteyam watched you non-stop while you were word vomiting "I'm not. I swear. I'm sorry... I made everything awkward. Now we can't be friends anymore. Well, you're all set. Your wounds are taken care of. Hope you heal fast. Gotta go. Bye."

You started to walk fast so you could run away from that uncomfortable situation you thought you had brought upon the both of you but Neteyam quickly got up from the medical chair made specially for the na'vi, bigger than a regular human one, and he ran to you, his long, toned legs helping him, as he only needed like four steps to get where you were, way fewer than a human guy would need.

"(Y/n), wait!" Neteyam exclaimed. You couldn't believe he was talking to you and not to tell you to never speak to him again and that he would never like a human - a demon - girl.

"Can we... talk about what you just said? It's an important piece of information." Neteyam chuckled and then gave you a big, warm smile.

That was so like him. Caring so much about others, trying to make everyone feel comfortable and at ease. That's one of the key things that made you fall in love with him. How beautiful he was on the inside too. If you forget his transcendental na'vi beauty, he would still be so, so beautiful because of how altruistic, kind and brave he was. You felt your heart ache inside your chest. You knew how much you loved Neteyam and how you'd probably love him forever. But you also knew he could never fall in love with a human girl. He wasn't fond of humans. He took after his mother, Neytiri. And you didn't blame him. You weren't that fond of your own race either.

“Can you tell me why you think I wouldn’t like you back?” Neteyam chuckled softly and smiled, his sharp fangs almost making you faint of captivation

Why did he have to be so freaking magnetic? Neteyam made it insanely hard for you not to have all those feelings for him.

“Well, for one, I am human…?” You pointed out, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion

"(y/n), you're not just any human. You understand and respect my Planet and the na'vi ways, you work helping heal our kids and warriors and I think I sense some love for Eywa in you. Being human is not a reason for me not to like you." He smiled, reassuring you "I've actually had a crush on you for... some months now." He confessed as his tail moved from side to side, making his joy apparent

Wait, hold on... what? Did Neteyam just say he had a crush on you? You definitely were not expecting that.

“What did you just say?” Your eyebrows were still furrowed as you chuckled, unbelieving

“I said I like you too, sevin tawtute.” Neteyam smiled and got closer to you, pulling you in, bringing you dangerously close to his strong but soft body

Suddenly, Neteyam put his big hands under your arms and lift you in the air and you feared falling so, before you knew it, you were wrapping your legs around his waist.

His smile grew wider and he said “I’m gonna start courting you now. Do you even realize how pretty you look in your nurse uniform?” His flirting made your heart skip a beat and your legs felt weak. Good thing he was holding you in his arms.

Oh my God… Neteyam was actually holding you in his arms and he said he liked you back and that he was gonna start courting you… That didn’t sound real. You started to wonder if you were dreaming about him again. It used to happen fairly often. You were soon awakened from your thoughts by a sultry masculine voice.

“Syulang?” Neteyam called, realizing you seemed to be somewhere else, and you smiled at him when you understood that it was not a dream but actually reality. Neteyam smiled back. “You get so distracted sometimes." He chuckled "So cute.” Neteyam kissed you softly and quickly, leaving no time for you to even see it was coming before his lips were pressing tenderly against yours. His kiss felt sweet and caring, like you were precious to him. His lips tasted like Paradise and that's exactly where you felt you currently were.

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cillianhead · 2 years ago

Note

Hello dear!!! I hope you're having a wonderful day!

Could you please write a piece about Cillian falling for a (younger!) poet? He starts frequenting her reading sessions and that's how they meet. The rest is up to you!

Thank you 🩵

Yes!! Love this, thank you <3

Enjoy my sweet nonny!

This is heavily inspired by the song All Too Well (10-minute version) (Taylor's Version) by Taylor Swift!!

Wind In My Hair, I Was There || Cillian Murphy x Reader

warnings: Smut, angst, age gap (reader is in her mid to late twenties, Cillian is in his forties.), swearing, Cillian is sort of an asshole in this in some parts, so that is a warning, infidelity (Cillian is married), general adult content ahead!!

Minors DNI! 18+

I'd also like to clarify this isn't really based on the real Cillian!! I know he's married and very happy, this is just fiction and fantasy!! Not meant to portray Cillian as a bad person!! I'd also like to clarify that the ready doesn't really know who Cillian is... or maybe like Cillian isn't that famous in this fic universe or something because there are a few plot points that may seem questionable... that's all. Anyway... enjoy!!

The autumn you spent with Cillian Murphy would be one you would always remember, not that you really had a choice in whether or not you could forget him.

Your apartment was small and cozy at the time, with a perfect view of the falling leaves outside. It was sitting across from a small park in New York City; the trees were red and orange, and it felt like the fall was putting on a show just for you. You felt fortunate and privileged to live in such a place.

You lived right up the road from a small cafe with a library. Every Thursday, you meet with like-minded writers and read your work aloud. It helped bring you out of your shell; you felt a sense of pride when you read your poetry out loud and had people praise you for being so brave and how well you wrote. Despite the fact you have been attending these little group meetings for almost two years now and you felt pretty comfortable amongst the people who were there, you felt like you could vomit your pounding heart right up every time you stood at that podium in front of the dozen or so people that attended. But even with the lump in your throat, you'd read with a shaky voice and tears ready to spill, you would receive the same round of applause every time and a pat on the back from some of the attendees you were closer with.

It was September 14th when you first saw him, but it wasn't the first time he had seen you, summer still lingering in the air but barely grasping on as Autumn began to take the reigns. You were standing at that cedar-wood podium, reading aloud as nervously as you always did. You had yet to notice him quietly slip in; you were too busy ensuring you were on the right line.

"-And something beautiful sprouted, something that I am not... something that I never will be." You looked up after reading the last line, biting your lip nervously and stepping back from the speaking podium. There he sat, in a sweater and the most hypnotizing eyes you had ever seen. Maybe love at first sight was real, you thought briefly. People clapped, but the room remained silent and still for you as you two made eye contact; he didn't clap; he just stared at you with a look that told you he was just as taken aback by you as you were by him.

He kept attending the sessions, but he never got up and read anything and never really interacted with anyone else; in fact, you'd see him get up and leave once you had finished reading your poetry. You wondered if anyone else noticed him the way you did, or maybe he was a figment of your imagination... a ghost.

It was October 19th when you first spoke with him. You dreamt about him day and night, and you two had never even spoken before every session; you'd wonder if he'd be there, and he always was. Sitting in the same seat, at the very back, going ultimately unnoticed by almost everyone but you.

"Excuse me, sir!" You yelled out, rushing to follow the man in the plaid shirt and beanie. "You dropped this!" It was a pair of keys you had clutched in your hand, the crisp autumn air meeting the apples of your cheeks.

He turned around, only a foot or two away from you, as he looked at you up and down, taking notice of his keys in your hand. "Oh gosh, thank you, love," He took the keys gently out of your hand, his fingers lingering on yours a little too long for a stranger, fingertips brushing together. "I swear I'd lose my head if it weren't screwed on." You took notice of his Irish accent. It made you even more curious to know him better. "Erm... thank you so much."

"It's no problem..." You trailed off. You're not sure what to say now. He gave you a stiff nod and started to turn around and keep walking, but you just couldn't let him leave. "Wait!" What do you say now?

"Yeah?" He turned around, tilting his head at you, blue eyes staring at you, waiting.

"I... I'm Y/N... by the way... I always see you here... but I never see you read anything..."

"Cillian," He chuckled. "Not interested in reading anything I've written, only here to listen." Cillian's response was short but straight to the point.

"You don't stick around for very long... you always leave after... I've finished reading my writing..."

"Well... your work is the only one I come to listen to. The rest of the lots' poems just go in one ear and out the other," He said honestly. "You've got a charm about you; I've never heard anything like what you write. It's unique and intelligent, cleverly crafted written pieces... It captures my attention, unlike the rest, which all seem like people trying to mimic someone else... you write from your heart... or your head... I can't decide which, really." He notices your silence, Cillian steps a bit closer to you. "Perhaps I've said too much." He mumbles. The proximity of where he stands is close enough that you can feel his warmth, a stark contrast to how cold it was outside. "You've surely captivated me, Y/N." He said your name like it was a sacred prayer.

You felt like your heart was in your throat, looking at him dumbfounded and unsure what to say. "That's... very flattering, I don't know what to say... thank you, Cillian..." You scratch behind your ear, swaying nervously on your feet. Cars honked, and people passed by as you two stood outside the little cafe, which was now closed since the reading sessions had ended. Cillian looked around awkwardly before sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, his breath visible out in the open air due to how cold it was.

"Would you like to go out for dinner with me?" Cillian looked at you, eyes reflecting the city lights. The moment felt like something from a movie or something you'd write a poem about. It felt like something that wasn't quite possible within these depths of reality. "I understand... if not... you're a young beautiful woman... probably got someone waitin' at home for y-" "N-No, I'd love to!" You interrupted him, with your heart racing. "I'd love to go to dinner with you... I don't have anyone at home... waiting for me..."

"Well, aren't I lucky... when are you free?" He gave you a smile, the first you'd ever seen from him. It made his usually sombre face light up; he grinned, making you feel all giddy.

"I'm free any time on the weekends... and on Tuesdays, I have work off, so... I would love to... see you this weekend, maybe?"

"Wonderful, Saturday evening, you and me?"

You nodded. You exchanged numbers and went on your merry way, walking down the streets of New York City with a smile on your face that was purely gleeful. People would give you looks, but you didn't care. You were excited about something for once. You obsessed over it for the next day and a half.

October 21st marked your very first date with Cillian Murphy. At six, you waited patiently outside your apartment building in the cold air. With a red scarf wrapped around your neck your nose runny from the autumnal weather, you looked around like a lost puppy.

"Y/N," Cillian's warm voice startled you from behind you. You jumped but swiftly turned around to look at him, a bashful smile on both of your faces. "You look lovely." You felt your heart pound at the sight of him.

"Thank you. You also look lovely yourself." You replied. He leaned in and kissed your cheek before taking your hand in his and guiding you down the street. The feeling of his hand in yours made the cold weather seem like summer. Your body lit in flames at the idea he wanted you close to him. And the feeling of his lips on your cheek remained there the whole evening, burning its mark into your skin.

The night went on, and you found yourself in a charming Italian restaurant. It was nothing too fancy, but it was nice and romantic for a first date, definitely nicer than any other places other guys have taken you. It was just the two of you sitting towards the back, in a small booth, eating your plates of pasta. You talked, and you talked, and you talked. He spoke about how he was an actor; you could see his eyes light up at his passion for his work. He told you he was in New York for work and was filming a movie for something he couldn't legally disclose yet. Your chemistry was magnetic, and the conversation would weave in and out of different subjects. You talked about anything and everything, things like masculinity, The Beatles, the incident that happened on your 21st Birthday, batman, and everything else there was to discuss. You felt like you had known him forever. He said the same thing and referred to you two as twin flames. When you were about to leave, his phone began to ring.

"Fuckin' hell, what is it now?" He groaned. "Probably just a wrong number... or somethin'... hold on, love." He stepped outside, and you watched him on the phone. Cillian looked angry and frustrated, like he was arguing over the phone with someone. Your heart, which once rode the waves of love and joy, now sank beneath them into the deep dark depths of navy blue and dismay, watching him grow angrier and angrier and yell over the phone. He was seeing red.

When he waved for you to come out, you approached him cautiously. He huffed, puffed, and fidgeted his hands in his pockets, clearly restless. "Who was that? Are you okay?" "It was no one," He replied shortly and coldly. "I'm fine, let's go." You didn't say a word after that. The tension was thicker than the cold. You were afraid of saying anything to further upset him. So silence was the answer as he walked you home. You felt disappointed that this was how the night was ending. You wondered who it was and what they had said that had upset him so badly. The familiar apartment building you called home came closer and closer within sight, the disappointment weighing you down like water in your shoes. The disappointment tracing every inch of your freezing skin.

You stood in your elevator with him. He promised to walk you back to your unit at least, and he kept that promise. "Would you like to come in... Cillian?" You asked. You pulled out your house key and unlocked the door, looking at him hopefully.

"No, I'd better not." He remained cold and rigid with you. He couldn't even bring himself to give you a smile. You felt you'd never see him again; maybe he didn't like you the way you thought he did. Maybe he found you obnoxious and dumb. Perhaps the phone call was from another woman he realized was better than you. Maybe you simply needed to be better for him. "Goodnight, Y/N." He turned and walked away; you couldn't speak as tears welled in your eyes. Sorrow built up within you like some sort of horrible game of Jenga; one wrong move and you'd come crashing down and falling apart all over the place.

"Goodnight..." You whispered, but by then, he'd already stepped into the elevator, and the doors shut, taking him away from you. You cried yourself to sleep that night, both out of self-pity and disappointment.

When you awoke, it was to the sounds of soft raps on your front door. It was eight in the morning. Padding gently down the hallway, floorboards creaking, sleep still in your eyes, and your face puffy from the tears that leaked from your tear ducts the previous night, you opened the door, expecting it to be a neighbor asking you if they could borrow some sugar or something along those lines.

"Good morning," Cillian stood at your door, this time with a big apologetic smile, a complete change from last night's cold demeanour. He held a pink, yellow, and white bouquet and a small paper bag in his other hand. "I came here to apologize... for how I treated you last night." "Come in." You ushered him in.

He noted your knick-knacks, the photos on your walls, and your old, worn-out furniture. The way you decorated the place stood out to him, but the look on your face stood out to him the most. Sad, tired eyes, puffy and glazed over, you looked at him expectantly. "I'm so sorry." He whispered to you.

"What for?" You asked as you sat in your favorite olive green armchair. It was velvet and soft, and you'd spend most of your time writing, reading, or drinking your morning cup of coffee.

"For treating you like I didn't care," He sighed. He sat on the leather sofa beside you, gently placing the flowers on your glass coffee table and the paper bag smelling of freshly baked goods. "I don't want to discuss exactly who it was or what happened on that phone call... but I... I shouldn't have shut you out just because I was upset... that was... wrong of me, and I'm sorry." Your anger and sadness dissipated the way a fire dissipates when it's being smothered: immediately. His big blue eyes were the blanket that hushed that flame out, striking him as immediately forgiven.

"I understand, Cillian..." You mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest. "Things happen... it's alright... I...." You wanted to confront him and tell him how insignificant and stupid he made you feel, but you swallowed it back and gave him a small smile. You remained the people pleaser you always have been. You spared his feelings over your own. "I understand." You repeated.

"I thought... I would make it up to you," He pushed the small paper bag over to you. "We could spend the day together... if you don't already have plans."

The paper bag contained a chocolate eclair. You had written a poem that mentioned eating a chocolate eclair while in a made-up love affair. The rhyming was cheesy, but it was one of Cillian's favorite poems of yours. It was the first one he had heard from you. Of course, you didn't realize the irony of it at the time. You just grinned and accepted it happily. You didn't know that you were engaging in a relationship with a man who was already married. So you took a bite of the eclair, letting him into your fragile heart, and entered this sad and tragic love affair.

So you spent the whole day together. You walked around New York City, holding hands and laughing your heads off. It felt romantic and intimate, and you got to know each other even deeper than you did before. You kissed under a stop sign and shared sweet nothings. The clouds rolled over, and the sky opened up. The rain watered you down like a pair of leaves in a pot plant, and you both ran through Central Park, trying to find the nearest shelter until you came across a large oak tree. It was something out of a movie, sitting together, soaking wet, staring at each other as lightning strikes in the distance. The wind was in your hair, and his lips were on yours.

You spent pretty much every day together after that. You made love in every room of your apartment, cherishing each other's bodies. Cillian would sit in that cafe, and he would clap after your readings and then reward you with a kiss when you got back down to him. You wrote poetry about him, and he would write some for you. It was a beautiful, quiet, little harmonious relationship you had going on. You found yourself falling in love. You thought he was, too, though you never said it out loud.

He even met your dad. They got along quite well. Your dad didn't seem to mind that Cillian was only a few years younger than him (and much older than you). Your dad just wanted to see you happy and safe. In fact, your dad told you he had never seen you more content. Cillian made your dad laugh, they got along like old friends. Seeing them bonding and getting along made you incredibly happy and excited.

On November 16th, at noon, you got ready to go to where he was staying, wrapping that red scarf around your neck again and stepping out into the living room where Cillian waited for you with eyes full of affection. You had packed a small bag since Cillian told you he was staying at his sister's house in upstate New York. She was away at the moment. "Most beautiful girl I've ever seen." He hummed jollily. You wrapped your arm through his and went down to the lobby.

His car had that new car smell, clearly a rental. "No matter how often I've stayed in America, I never get used to driving on the wrong side of the road." Cillian chuckled, exiting his parking spot and beginning the long drive to his sister's house.

The drive was beautiful. Driving through the city and slowly entering into suburban areas, red and brown trees lining the streets, Halloween decorations on display, and music playing through the radio, you both sang along to the words happily. The drive was surreal and peaceful. You drove down a long country road, and the tall trees created a tunnel above you. Only small slits of the grey sky could be seen through the scarlet leaves.

"We're here, Y/N," Cillian smiled at you, stepping out of the car and walking off without you. You hurriedly got out of the car with your things. "Oh, lock the car for me, the button doesn't work... please, love." He tossed you the car keys, not looking where he was throwing them, and they landed in the dirt before you. You ignored how it made you feel (stupid, insignificant, small), picking up the dirty keys and locking the car manually before rushing over to where he was unlocking the door.

The house was nice and quiet and far from the rest of civilization. It felt like home somehow. It is decorated nicely with photos of his sister and her husband, even some with Cillian when he was younger. It was getting dark by now, and you set your belongings down in the guest bedroom where Cillian was staying. You never asked when he was going back to Ireland. You didn't wanna know. You wanted to appreciate your time together instead of counting down the days.

Cillian cooked you dinner and shared a long, loving kiss to say thanks. You sat cuddled up on the couch together afterwards, your crimson scarf hanging over the stair railing as you rested your head lovingly on his shoulder. An old Western movie played in the background, but you were too busy holding each other and whispering sweet things.

"Cillian..." You whispered, pressing soft kisses along his stubbly jaw. "I'm so happy you brought me here... this feels so special." "I'm so happy to have you here, Y/N." He whispered back. Cillian pulled you into his lap. "This is special, just you and me... here... I'm going to make you my own." You wanted to tell him, 'I'm already yours, Cillian; my heart and soul are yours', but you remained silent, smiling dopily at him.

And with those charming words, you kissed him. Flashes of red played through your mind, fireworks sounding off in your head as your lips danced together. His hands cradled your head as you made out nice and slow. Both in your pyjamas now, warming each other up, hands running up and down his back. Cillian's hands wandered down your back until they rested on the tops of your hips, his thumb fiddling with the waistband of your sweatpants.

"Take them off." You hummed, raising your hips slightly off of his, and he obeyed, sliding your pants off until you were only in your panties. Cillian observed how you sat back down on his lap, the lace scrunched up, showing off the curve of your ass.

"I'm going to ravish you." He growled, eyeing you up and down. The timbre of his voice caused your thighs to tightly squeeze together. He pressed you down onto the couch, slipping his pants down until he was just in his briefs. He slipped your shirt over your tits, breasts bouncing out of their containment and straight into his mouth. He sucked happily on your nipples until you were a panting mess, begging for more. "Let me feel you, sweetheart."

"Please..." You exasperated. "Please... Cillian."

Two nimble fingers slipped under your lace underwear, straight down to where your arousal pooled. "So wet f'me, always so wet, aren't you, baby?" He groaned, fingers teasing your slit before sliding back up to rub circles on your clit.

"You know what you do to me..." You breathed out, biting your cherry red lips and closing your eyes, embracing the pleasure. "Always so wet for you, Cillian..."

The way Cillian cradled you in his strong arms as his fingers caressed you to your peak was the most intimate thing you had ever experienced. His eyes watched your face contort with pleasure, mouth open and spilling sounds of satisfaction as you came on his fingers.

"That's it, baby... doing so good," He whispered, kissing your cheek. "So beautiful."

You lolled your head to the side, panting and looking at him with a dazed grin. "Please fuck me."

Cillian laughed at your words. "Such a dirty mouth!" He teased as he tugged down his pants. "Gonna fuck you nice and slow, gonna show you how much you mean to me, love."

Then, in the dim light of the TV and the moon shining through the window, you made love like it was your last night on Earth. Hands ran up and down each other's bodies, trying to savor every final touch. Lips captured together, your bodies working as one, the love was there, glimmering in the light. No words could explain how you felt then; nothing else existed to you, just him and his hands all over your body. You and him for the rest of eternity, at least; that's how it felt in your heart.

You held each other tight in bed, clinging on for dear life. You listened to his heart slow as he slept and the way he breathed. You wondered if he dreamt about you the way you dreamt of him. Eventually, you fell asleep at midnight after watching his pretty face sleeping.

At three in the morning, you wake to an empty bed. Sitting up with a sweat, where did Cillian go? You slip out from under the covers, wincing at the room's cold air that meets your bare legs. You wore one of Cillian's button-ups, only the middle button holding it together as you slowly creep out of the room, listening to the sound of quiet music from the kitchen.

"Cillian?" You called out, cautious and slightly afraid at how dark the house is. It was a lot quieter than you were used to. You were a city girl, unfamiliar with the countryside silence.

"Y/N?" You heard, which relieved your paranoid mind.

Down the stairs, Cillian stood in the fridge's light, soft music playing through a small radio on the kitchen counter. "What're you doing up, Cillian?" You worriedly walked over to him, arms reached out as he turned to look at you, only in his sleep shorts.

"Just needed a midnight snack. I'm alright, my love," He smiled sleepily, with a sheepish look since he wasn't fully awake yet. "C'mere... dance with me."

"Oh... Cillian..." You giggled, walking over to him, letting him wrap you up in his strong arms and sway you gently. "This is nice."

"Mmmm..." Cillian hummed into the soft skin of your neck.

The refrigerator remained open, the cool-tinted light painting you both as you swayed side to side. You were half asleep, and the rocking motion didn't help your drowsiness. You felt as though this was some strange dream.

"Are you real?" You whispered.

"What do you mean?" Cillian purred back.

"I just feel like I made you up." You muttered, pulling your head back to look up at him with big, sleepy eyes.

Cillian looked back at you with the same look. Your wide-eyed gaze and his sweet blue eyes looked like something out of a romance film or something you'd see in a painting. The love you shared was unanimous... or at least you thought so. A kiss and then another kiss and then another turned into a sleepy yet heated make-out.

"Gonna take you right here," He grumbled into your mouth. "My midnight snack."

You giggled at his words as he pressed you against the kitchen island countertop. Kissing so hard it felt like your lips could bruise. He ripped off your shirt and pulled it off you like it was nothing. Cillian growled at the sight of you, hands groping at your tits and lips trailing down your neck. You whimpered, letting your head hang back as he ground his stiff cock into your clothed cunt.

"Fuck!" You whined, wrapping your legs around his hips even further. You ignored the feeling of the marble countertop digging into your lower back; the feeling of his cock was too delicious, too distracting, to really let it ruin the mood. "Cillian, please, baby, just put it in me... need you so bad."

He gave you a grunt and slipped off his shorts before pulling your panties to the side. Cillian acted like a feral dog as he pushed his cock into you and began fucking you on his sister's countertops at three in the morning. The act was sinful.

"Oh god! Yes!" You wailed. You could be as loud as you wanted to out here. No one else was around to hear, and you knew how Cillian liked to hear you scream for him. His hips pistoned in and out of you, cock fitting perfectly inside you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He had never been so rough with you before, but you were enjoying it.

"Best pussy I've ever had," Cillian groaned, sweat dripping from his forehead. "Fuck... so good... feels so good."

His fingernails dug into your hips, grunting into the dips of your neck and shoulders as he chased his own high. You ran your hands up and down his back, leaving scratch marks across his shoulder blades. The fridge remained open, but right now, you didn't care. All you could think about was how good he was fucking you. Drool spilled down your chin, mind blank, and legs went limp from the euphoria taking over.

"Yeah, is that it?" Cillian muttered, voice gritty and low as his hips sputtered. "You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my cock?"

"Yes... oh fuck! Yes!" You moaned. "Gonna cum for you, Cillian..."

"Love the way my name sounds comin' from your mouth," He whispered, letting out a mouth-watering whine straight into your ear. Your pussy clenched around him tighter as Cillian, usually a quiet and stoic man, came undone and let out the most delectable pornographic-sounding moans. "Y'make it sound so dirty..."

"Please cum in me..." You whimpered. "Please... need it so bad."

"Really?" Cillian panted and looked at you incredulously. He had never had the pleasure of getting to cum in you yet. "You sure?"

"Yes!" You threw your head back, panting like a dog. "Please, Cillian! Please... give it to me." "Fuck... alright... gonna fill you up, love."

You pressed your face into the curve of his neck, mewling as you came around him and the feeling of his hot cum beginning to spill into you. "I love you." You gasped out, squeezing your eyes shut as you came around him. You meant it; you did love him. You had never loved anyone the way you had loved him. You could see yourself with him for the rest of your life, having his babies, getting married..., and dying together. He just groaned loudly as he came inside you, not saying a word to your confession. Maybe it wasn't the right time, or he would wait until he was done to say something.

"Fuckin' hell..." Cillian whispered as he slipped his softening length out of you and pulled his shorts back up. "Look at that..." He mumbled with amazement, getting down on his knees in front of your quivering and cum-filled pussy.

"Cillian, I-"

"Shhh..." He hushed before pressing a loving nip to your inner thigh, and then he unhinged his jaw and attached his watering mouth to your cunt. You forgot everything you were about to say at the feeling of his tongue licking you up and sucking on your swollen clit. You came again quickly due to how sensitive you were, and Cillian sucked up your gushing juices and his cum that still dripped out of you. Standing up, he grabbed you by the chin and kissed you, spitting the mixture into your mouth, tongues swirling together. You moaned at the salty taste and the dirty act. "Such a good girl..." Cillian hummed. "Swallow it, baby. Show me how good you can be for me."

He watched you gulp it down before leaning in and rewarding you with a wet and messy kiss, teeth grabbing your bottom lip before pulling away. "Cillian..." You whispered, out of breath and incredibly flustered. "That... was so good... I love-" "Let's go to sleep," He interrupted abruptly, crouching and picking up your discarded clothing. "It's real late, sweetheart."

"Oh..." You mumbled, heart breaking a little. "Okay... let's go then." You didn't get a peep of sleep that night. While Cillian snored beside you, one heavy arm draped across you and his hot breath fanning the back of your neck, you stared at the ticking clock with tears slipping down your face. Why didn't he say it back? Why didn't he at least say something? You knew he heard you. The dread built up within you that night, and daylight didn't seem to get any closer.

At 7:47 AM, you were pulled out of a state between consciousness and sleep by Cillian's phone ringing. "Fuck..." Cillian said groggily, reaching over with a heavy hand to pick up his phone. "Who is it?" You moaned out of dissatisfaction from being pulled out of your slumber.

"It's my sister..." He groaned before answering the call. "Hello?.... Yeah, it's alright... no, I don't have anything on today... you're comin' home today?... I thought you'd be home Monday..." You sat up at this, heart racing. Were you going to have to meet his sister today? You were nervous but also excited. Cillian looked over at you with a horrified look in his eye. "Yeah... alright... see you then... bye."

"...Is everything okay?" You asked cautiously.

"Yeah, I guess we're not sleepin' in..." He grunted as he got up and walked towards the en suite. "Gather yer' things, we're going back to the city." "What? Why?"

"I just don't want my sister to know I had a girl over." That was the last thing he said before shutting the bathroom door, clearly in a bad mood. Your heart sank at his words as if it wasn't already hurting. So you got up, fighting back the tears and gathered your things, shoving them back into your bag as you let out a choked sob.

Half an hour passed, Cillian was still in the shower, and you sat at the bottom of the stairs, feeling sorry for yourself. Your bag sat beside you, and the floorboards creaking behind you caught your attention. You turned and looked up at Cillian, dressed in a lovely blue turtle neck, dress pants, and a grim look on his face.

Begrudgingly, you followed him outside and into the car, then began the drive back in silence.

"You wanna grab some lunch wit' me today?" Cillian asked after about twenty minutes of silence.

"No." You said dryly.

"What? You got plans or somethin'?" Cillian asked with a chuckle. The question felt condescending and rude.

"Because what you said to me earlier really fucking hurt me." You hissed, turning to look at Cillian to see him already looking at you.

"What the fuck are you on about?" He barked back, putting his eyes back on the road and giving you that dry, condescending laugh again.

"You said you didn't want your sister to know about me.... that you didn't want your sister to know about you having a girl over."

"Yeah, and?" Cillian quipped, clearly flustered.

"Is that all I am to you?" You whimpered, trying to keep your composure, trying to seem strong. "Just a girl?" "'Course not, Y/N." He said in a hushed tone.

"Then what the fuck are we?" You raised your voice, a tear slipping down your cheek. "Why can't your sister know about me? About us?"

"B-Because..." He faltered before falling completely silent.

"Why, Cillian?" You cried. "You've met my friends... you've even met my father... for fuck's sake... why can't... why can't I meet your sister and her husband?"

He kept his silence. You could see the tears in his eyes that refused to spill. Those tears were just as stubborn as he was.

"Answer me!" You screamed, tears pouring down your exasperated face. "Say something!"

"Because I'm married!" He screeched back.

That shut you up. You leaned back and just stared at your feet. You felt like you had been winded, like all the air in the car had been sucked out, and you were choking on carbon monoxide. He was married. You sobbed as the shock set in, and Cillian pulled the car over to the side of the road, unbuckling his seatbelt. You fell into a state of despair; your chest felt incredibly heavy, and your brain played a loop of hopeless thoughts.

"Y/N," Cillian said firmly, reaching out and placing a soft hand on your shoulder, which you quickly smacked away. "Y/N... look at me..."

You looked over at him, and you could see him wince at the look on your face. He'd never seen you in so much pain. Never had he seen you look at him so coldly. "What?" You spat. "What is it, Cillian?"

"I... I'm sorry."

"Fuck you," You cried harder, covering your face with your hands and leaning on the dashboard. You cried so hard it felt like you could vomit. You felt like the salty tears were slowly dissolving you away. "Fuck you!" You sobbed.

"Y/N... I am sorry."

"If you were sorry..." You hiccuped, looking back at him with red eyes and tears endlessly slipping down your flustered face. "You never would have... you never would have done this to me... you never would have gotten involved with me!"

Cillian sighed and shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I... I stumbled into that cafe one night, and I saw you and... I heard the way you spoke... and the words you said... and I couldn't believe you were real... and things haven't been amazing in my marriage lately... and I haven't seen my wife in months..." He was rationalizing with you... with the infidelity. "I... I've never met anyone like you."

"You lied to me."

"How was I supposed to tell you I was married, Y/N?" Cillian snapped at you, looking at you with fangs barred. "What was I supposed to say to you?"

"You didn't have to say anything," You sobbed. "You shouldn't have invited me to dinner... you shouldn't have even... you shouldn't have ever shown up to those reading sessions... you just shouldn't have gotten involved with me in the first place!"

"My wife doesn't have to know."

"That... doesn't make it any better," You bawled. "You have a woman... back in Ireland fucking waiting for you, and I'm here... thinking I'm falling in love with you while you fuck me over!"

"I'm sorry..." He whispered, defeated. "I'm so sorry."

Silence.

"Do you feel anything for me?" "Of course, I feel something for you, Y/N... you're-"

"Do you love me?" You corrected. "Could you say you truly and honestly love me?" "I..." He looked away at that. You scoffed and shook your head, wiping tears off your face. "I don't... I don't know... I just..." "What the fuck was going to happen between us?" You cried. "How was this going to end? This was always going to end tragically... wasn't it? Wasn't it, Cillian?"

"I didn't... I never thought about how I was going to end things... I go back home in December... filming ends in two weeks... I was going to spend the last few weeks with you..." You scoffed again loudly. "Aww... how sweet! Spend your last few days with your mistress, who's twenty years younger than you... and then fuck off back to Ireland and go be with your loving wife and your... oh god... you have kids, don't you?" "Yes... I..." "Fuck!" You screamed. It wasn't like you to be so angry. You weren't usually this loud. But the pain was just too much, and you needed some way to get the pent-up rage within you out. "So this is it... this is going to be the last time I'll ever see you."

"It doesn't have to be that way, love," Cillian whispered, placing a hand on your arm; this time, you let it stay there. The shame of having him touch you made you sob again. "We could... spend this last month together... we could... cherish what we have while we still have it." "What we have is gone," You replied. "It's gone! It's dead! You killed it! You can't even say you love me."

"What good would that do?" He pushed you further over the edge. "I mean... I could lie and say I love you... I could feed into your fantasies that this... this could last... but it's not..."

Those words 'I could lie and say I love you' echoed over and over again in your head.

"I know that!" You yelped.

There was a pause. The silence hanging heavy in the autumn air and your teardrops falling into your lap where your hands lay curled up. Cillian's thumb rubbed circles into your arm, and you only cried harder.

"Maybe... if we had been closer in age... maybe we would have... maybe we would have been fine." Cillian broke the silence with that banger. The words ringing in your ears, you didn't reply. You didn't utter a word. Those words made you want to die. A minute or two went past. You just ignored him, ignored the way his hand lit your skin on fire, and ignored the way his eyes bore holes into the side of your skull. "Y/N?"

"Take me home." You muttered.

"Y/N..." He whispered.

"Take me the fuck home, Cillian."

And so he did. He pulled out of the parking spot, and you spent the next hour in an agonizing silence. At some point, the tears stopped falling, and the stupidity sunk in. You felt stupid and ashamed. You had told everyone about him, how happy you were, how handsome and funny... and how sweet he was. And now you sat in the car of a man you felt like you didn't know.

"We're here, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Cillian."

"Please don't do this." He begged, you looked at him, and he had tears in his eyes. "Please." You sucked in a breath, his eyes pleaded with you, and you wanted to stay so badly... you wanted to give him one last kiss and say, 'I understand,' but you knew you couldn't. You were too heartbroken. It was going to end one way or another... and it might as well end now.

"Goodbye, Cillian." You said once more before stepping out of the car and walking off into your building. Never looking back to see the broken man in the car, crying just as hard as you did, loving you just as hard as you did him.

Three months went by. There wasn't a day where you didn't think of him. Not a day passed when you yearned for his touch and to feel him hold you again. You thought about dancing with him in the refrigerator light. You thought about his hand on your thigh as you drove upstate. The memories all too real and... all too there.

And tonight, as snow fell outside, you stood at that same podium, reading the poem you wrote for him. You could barely utter the words, your heart catching in your throat as you looked around the room and spoke the words written on the page.

"Just between us, I remember it all too well." You finished, and the room clapped, but the applause didn't matter. Your heart still felt just as broken as it did the day you left him.

And as you descended from the podium, people would pat you on the back and murmur praises for how well-written your poem was and how well-spoken you were. But your eyes were focused on the hazy figure outside the cafe, the silhouette all too familiar.

And it was wearing that same red scarf you had left behind.

And you knew it was him, watching you from afar. Loving you from a distance... remembering it the same way as you did...

All too well.

hope you enjoyed!! Sorry this was all over the place a bit but I really wanted to write something angsty... anyway... there are lots of little easter eggs and references to the song, did you pick them all up? Okay byeee!

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian x fem!reader #cillian murphy fanfic #thomas shelby #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders

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asprinkleoftism · 3 months ago

Text

No One but You

Donald Ferguson x Reader

About: As your treatment progresses, so does your illness. But you know you aren't alone because Donald is always nearby.

Notes: Finally getting out of the damn writers block. Talk of cancer here and chemotherapy but lots of fluff. Enjoy.

You were wide awake and you knew it was early because the sun was barely starting to rise. The back of your throat was aching and you knew what would come next. Your long term partner, Donald, was softly snoring, indicating he was in a deep sleep but you knew the second you left the bed he would be awake.

"Oh sh.." You choke out, desperately getting out of bed as fast as possible.

But it was no use. The wave of nausea hit you much harder and faster than you anticipated and you ended up making a beeline for the bathroom. You were nearly to the toilet and almost there but it was too late. You ended up puking onto the tile floor of the bathroom and on yourself.

"Shit. Damn it." You gasped out, seeing what happened.

"Love?"

You shook your head upon hearing Donald's half awake voice come from the bed.

"I-I'm fine, Donald. Go back to sleep." You lied as you weakly tried to clean up your sickness.

Despite being half awake, Donald knows what happened and he be damned to let you do it on your own. Donald pulled the blankets off of him, got out of bed and walked to y'alls shared bathroom to see you desperately but weakly trying to clean up your mess.

"Honey, you should've gotten me up." Donald said, bending down and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I-I'm fine, Don." You choke out.

Chills were going down your body as your body was fighting against itself. Donald helped you clean up, noticing the mess on not only your shirt but also on your chest and shorts. He knew exactly what to do, despite it being nearly five AM in the morning. No matter. Cecil Stedman, his boss, knew of y'alls situation and Donald would simply just call in. You were the most important person in Donald's life. He would rather loose his job than not be with you, especially considering the illness and treatment you were going through right now. There were good days and bad days. While the treatment seemed to be working some days, there were other times were your body would react so bad to it that it seemed like it wasn't working. One things for sure, it has certainly strengthened y'alls relationship. Once your mess was cleaned up, you stood up to walk back into the bedroom, but Donald grabbed a gentle hold onto your hand to stop you.

"I was gonna go get dressed." You say.

"Honey, you're covered in vomit. Sit down now and I will take care of you." Donald insisted as he helped you to sit on the toilet.

"W-What about work?"

Donald shook his head.

"Cecil can survive a day without me. I promise. And besides, you are more important than he is." Donald reminded you.

There was no point in arguing with him about it. While you valued that Donald cared about you, you wanted him to be able to have some sort of freedom away from you. You already felt like a burden as it is with being sick with cancer and going through treatment, you didn't want to be even more so of one because you couldn't make it to the damn toilet in time or he has to hand feed you due to being too weak to do it. Donald always had a smile on his face every time he did it, but you felt bad. You felt bad that he felt more like a caretaker than a significant other. Donald reached over and started some bath water. He ran his hand under the facet to make sure it was the perfect temperature for you. Once it was, he plugged the tub up so the water wouldn't empty and waited for the tub to fill up. Donald had a permanent smile on his face as he got on his knees in front of you, laying his head onto your lap as he rubbed your legs in comfort. He could feel your cold skin which was common after having treatments. Donald was practically nonverbally praising you, saying how brave and strong you are and how beautiful you are through this action. Your hand went to his buzzcut, running your hand through it, finding a big sense of comfort with what he was doing.

"How on Earth did I get so lucky with you?" You say.

Donald turns to make eye contact with you, his deep, brown eyes sparkling upon yours. All Donald could think was that despite the hair loss and body change, you were still the most beautiful person in the world to him. He still got butterflies in his stomach when you smiled at him and still got lustful over seeing your body and still looked forward to seeing and talking with you with every chance could. Cancer didn't change anything on how he felt for you. He just knew he had to take care of you for however long that would be. The bath was full. Donald placed a kiss on your legs and got up to stop the water. You stood up, and Donald started helping you out of your clothes, being mindful to pull them off a certain way so no more vomit would get on your skin. You were skinnier than you have ever been since being with Donald. The treatment killed your appetite, and most of the time, you ate whatever Donald made to not hurt his feelings. He at least made you eat a real meal once a day and let you drink protein and smoothie shakes or drinks to at least have some nutrients in your body. Every time you looked in the mirror, you couldn't but feel disgusted over yourself. Your body didn't look like yours, and you hated it. Meanwhile, Donald still found your body to be just as amazing and beautiful since the day he first saw it. Once you were fully undressed, Donald held your hand and the side of you, helping you into the bathtub carefully since he knew you were experiencing some weakness. Donald didn't let go until your ass was on the tub.

"There you go, love." Donald said as he let go of you.

The warm water immediatly soothed your body and warmed it up. You found yourself naturally leaning back against the tub.

"Here." Donald said as he put a fresh clean towel on your head as a makeshift pillow.

He figured that would be more comfortable than having your head against the wall.

"Thanks." You said.

"Of course. Give me two minutes and I'll wash you up." Donald said as he started deep cleaning the floor were your vomit was at.

You let your body marinate in the warm water as Donald quickly cleaned the spot, for he didn't want to have you be bathed in cold or even lukewarm water. You didn't deserve that. In fact, you deserved the whole world. The entire world. You deserved everything but cancer. The day you told him it was indeed cancer was a hard day for both of you. You both held each other and cried. Hard. Yes, the doctors caught it early, but it was still a hella scary thing. The day after the diagnosis, Donald immediately turned into your caretaker. It's like he reserved his emotions for your sake. There were times Donale cried by himself over you and what you were going through, but you were already in such dismay over the cancer that he didn't want to put any more stress on you by crying. The spot was fully cleaned and Donald grabbed the nearby stool to sit where your head was at.

"If this is your chance to get a sneak peek at something go right ahead." You teased him.

"Th-Thats not at all what-"

"I know, I know, Donald. I'm just teasing you." You reassured him.

Donald smiled in response. He then reached for the body sponge and applied your favorite body soap to it. You leaned forward to were your body was exposed out of the water. Donald then leaned in with the sponge and ever so slowly but softly began washing your body. He took his time to get every little spot and even then he went back over a second time to make sure you were clean. You bucked your hips up so he could get your stomach and he lifted your legs up, one at a time, to wash them. Donald was very careful and ginger with his actions. Once he could feel nothing but your favorite body soap was when he started splashing water carefully to wash the soap off. His soft but calloused hands running over your body. The feeling was very intimate and you loved it. Donald rinsed his hands in the water and turned to you.

"How do you feel?" Donald asks him.

"Better, thank you, Donald."

Donald leaned in and placed his lips onto yours for a soft peck.

"You're welcome." Donald said.

Donald pulled away and unplugged the water. Once fully drained, Donald made sure to grab a warm fresh towel and helped you out of the tub. His toweled hands ran over your body to get any water that was dripping and cause he knew your body would shiver immediately after stepping out so he made sure to get every bit to prevent that from happening as much as possible.

"Dry?"

You nodded.

"Okay, I'm gonna wrap the towel around you so you will still have some cover. Maybe not shiver as much." Donald said as he wrapped the towel around your body.

"Okay."

Once the towel was around your body, he led you out of the bathroom. On cue your body shivered upon the change in temperature but the towel did help like Donald theorized. You sat on the bed as Donald went through your clothes to get you some new ones to wear and maybe you would get some extra rest. You needed it and he knew that. Donald pulled out some comfortable underwear and a sleep shirt for you and came back to you with it. He then got onto his knees and slipped your underwear onto your legs, pulling them all the way up until they were snug. He quickly sneaked a kiss onto your belly making you giggle. Donald smiled, hearing a giggle meant you were feeling somewhat better. He then slipped the shirt on over your head and a little bit more warmth came to your body.

"Do you need anything before we lay back down?" Donald asks.

"No, I'm okay." You say, not wanting to make him do anymore than he has to.

Donald smiled as he stepped out of the room. You shook your head, knowing he was indeed going to bring back something for you despite you saying no. Moments later, Donald came back into the bedroom with a bottle of water. He opened the cap up for you but sat it down on your nightstand so you didn't have to struggle to open it. Equivalent to opening the pickle jar for you. Donald smiled as he walked around and slipped right back into bed with you.

"Feel alright?" He asked, laying on his side to face you.

You nod as you laid on your side to face him.

"You're so dreamy." You compliment him.

Donald chuckled, feeling the familiar blush paint on his face.

"I could say the same about you, love." Donald said back.

You shrugged your shoulders in response.

"You are. No matter how much longer we have to do this treatment, you are beautiful. No matter what." Donald said as he held your arm, rubbing it softly with his thumb.

"There's no one else here but you. And if the rest of the world dies and it's just you and I then so be it. I would be fine with that so as long as you're okay in the end."

You held it together as Donald said those words. He was man of many words that has been proven so many times in the past but it was especially true right now.

"I love you, Donald." You choked out, leaning into him for a hug.

Donald immediately hugged you back, rubbing your back softly and placing soft and tender kisses onto your temple. The world was so quiet right now that it truly did feel like there was no one else but you and him. And in Donald's mind, that was especially true.

"I love you too."

#invincible #invincible show #donald ferguson #asprinkleoftism #invincible donald #donald ferguson x reader #donald ferguson headcanons

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