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Where's Waldo Headcanons pt 3
Wenda, Wenda, and Wilma
(don't really a ton of those to be frank, so this should be short)
•》Wenda (2019)《•
Full name: Wenda Olson
* Been in the Wanders' Society as long as she could remember, is the one who both introduced Pre-transition! Odlaw and Wally to it.
* Slight trust issues after Pre transition! Odlaw left her mid mission to join the Anti Wanderers Society, leaving her in the middle of an island with no way to head home, so was intially a bit taken a back prior to episode 1 that Wally wanted to join; at first
* Similar to Waldo, her parents weren't around much, which was something they quickly bonded over. However unlike Wally, she has no recollection of what her parents look like, not even a name-
-Speculated by few to be related to a few Wizards, but no one would or could confirm if said speculations were true. As far as she knew Whitebeard (2019) was the closest to a parental figure she had.
* Saw Wally as almost a brother, if not a really best friend
* When the both graduated Wanderers' Society, she stayed behind to become another Wizard and teacher of the Wanders' Society; the last thing they said to each other was a promise to keep in touch; something they both held up less and less as they got older.
* Joke headcanon here that ties to the next character; but if 2019 Wenda and 1991 Wenda/Wilma met at the same age, Olson would be target 101 of the twins chaos.
•》Wenda (1991)《•
* Full Name: Wenda Charlotte Wilder
* The older identical twin of Wilma, but was more of a troublemaker of the two. Matter of she's the reason they went though so many nannies, with her using Wilma as a decoy while she ran off. It wasn't until their 9th nanny, who actually had experience with twins, that their scheme was ruined and was ratted out.
* Like Olson, she met Odlaw far before she met Wally, offering to help Odlaw with math homework and tutor him. They've been friends since, less so with Odlaw's scheme to steal her boyfriend's magic walking stick.
-Still hangs out with him sometimes, but that's more of a once in a blue moon kinda thing.
* Met Waldo in high school, but fell in love with him during her finals project for photography. It was a photoshoot of a lovely river flowing by a blooming willow with a family of ducks, but as she took a picture, it was disturbed by our candy cane fellow chasing after Woof. Many apologies and chit-chat was made that day, and Wenda still has this picture hanging up in her apartment. Had no clue Waldo was the same guy Wilma was dating at the time, so.. it's still a bit awkward.
•》Wilma (1991)《•
* Full Name: Wilma Ann Wilder
Poor girl.. never stood a chance. Was always served as a second fiddle to her older sister. Even when Wenda was behind her back, she never ended up with the boy..
* Moved out of the apartment, dropped college, and left her things there the moment she found out Waldo and Wenda started dating. Never to be seen again..
* She moved out into a larger city and reapplied to another college, ofc finding herself working part time in the fast food chains and sleeping in her car.
* Passed college and gained a masters in photography and forsenics, and set out to travel the world a bit. Stopping by a cute bakery in Egypt, she accidently came across a certain theif in red who's also known for having "Where" as an associated question YEP, WILMA X CARMEN SANDIEGO BBYGRL-
* They would later go on to have a surrogate and have Waldo's nephew Willy (red hair)
* Wilma still doesn't like Waldo, not even bothering to visit in fear of the memories occuring again (plus her Gf's job could lead the three of them in trouble if people were to find out, and unforturnately Wilma knows what type of person Waldo is , or thinks she does) but let's Willy visit him now and again to either babysit or hang out. One day they'll work it out.. or not-
LAST BATCH OF HEADCANONS: THE WHITEBEARDS!
#wheres wally#where's waldo#wheres waldo#where's wally#headcanon#waldo#wilma#carmen Sandiego mentioned#Obscure knowledge mentioned#crackship
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ok soooo im like 5 episodes into dear brother and i need you guys to know how much i love rei so far if only for her staggering around like a rain-soaked stray dog just haggard and unseeing all the time. like we know very little about her thus far except that every scene she's in she steals the show by flopping and wilting all over the frame
#just like me fr perhaps#dear brother#oniisama e#idk what it is but shes so intriguing. mysterious shit-untogether lady#also i love everyone's beef so far like im completely hooked on the drama as camp as it usually is#like went OHH SHIT the second i found out the big three were on bad terms like ouhhh theyre fightinggg#and minako is profoundly real. the video essay that convinced me to watch this mentioned her encapsulation of quote#'every bpd feeling ive ever had' and as an outsider that seems right#school full of girls to study under a magnifying glass like bugs. girlbugs#this is an era of shojo im not very familiar with (ok ig all eras are like that but my knowledge of 70s shojo is like.#ok rose of vsailles over here and that tennis thing's over there and uh. yeah thats it)#and yeah ik the anime's from the 90s but it appears. to me. pretty married to more 70s aesthetics at least#ANYWAY kaoru ily we need a butch failgirl to shout these girls into line and shes balling too btw no way#and minako ily you're extremely real and a scene stealer and i need you to beat more girls up#nanoko im leering over your shoulder like a little shoulder devil bc i want you to be worse and im suspecting you're getting there#oh i forgot to say this part but i keep comparing it to utena#no one ive seen brings up db in their utena analyses as an influence so i have to wonder if 1) this is just more obscure#(if only for the western video essayists im watching) or 2) they share other common ancestry im not familiar with#once again i gotta watch rose of vrsailles for brserk reasons but also now bc of this#she's important she's influential etc etc#anyway yeah excited to get back to the mentally ill girl variety hour ✌️✌️#asuka rei#<- I FORGOT TO TAG IT WITH HER 😫😫😫
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for all that I love Ghosts, I've been getting a very different kind of joy out of watching uploads of a very, very similar show on youtube - The Ghosts of Motley Hall.
Like, a setup where the ghosts actually mostly like each other from the off, so that a huge chunk of the dialogue just goes towards establishing more and more of their meandering, idiosyncratic shared history (especially because the budget was clearly about £1.50 so they have to establish most things through dialogue)... that has its own kind of charm.
#bbc ghosts#the ghosts of motley hall#I'm genuinely not sure how much overlap to expect in terms of ghosts people who have seen this#because I... couldn't find? any mention of the six idiots referencing it they only seem to talk about Rentaghost#so when I first looked into it I was expecting there to be a steady trickle in the Ghosts to finding out about Motley Hall pipeline#but not only does there not appear to be#the show is apparently just WAY more obscure than I anticipated in general?#at least in terms of its presence in any online articles/social media#anyway all this to say I think anyone who's comfortable with suspending disbelief in the name of fun would benefit from knowing about Motle#ie I think more people should#also in terms of ghosts stuff Motley Hall also has a Fanny in it!#The dialogue is just whimsical little joy after joy#'I ALWAYS do the stairs on Thursdays!'#'I don't think they are wirelesses. they have glass fronts.' 'they've got knobs on.' 'well so's a chest of drawers!'#Also one of the things I have found writing about is that Fanny was apparently a fan favourite character back in the day#and I cannot pinpoint a single concrete reason why but I GET IT he's just so entertaining to watch#GOD I just love the dialogue so much 'you think it'll go on forever?' 'nah it'll run out of horses' referring to horse racing on TV#I love Bodkin and his perpetual willingness to position himself as the arbiter of common sense based on very little actual knowledge#'what's he? a soldier?' 'nah that's a policeman' 'what do they do?' 'well they sit in the kitchen and eat jam tarts'#there's so much information contained in that response I love it
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the fact that at least a few radfems on this stupid site fell for an edited pic of the 4chan-pepe-alt-right’s favorite meme….ladies i love you but being reactionary and believing every tweet screenshot or reblog you see is not how andrea raised you.
#like i know if you don’t have that obscure piece of knowledge then there’s no way to assume that’s what it is#BUT i feel like a good rule of thumb is to never believe initial rumors/reporting from random sources#and an ever better rule of thumb is to never believe something on social media if you can’t confirm one 100% via a reputable news source#also pointing out that skimming an article and not seeing the rumor mentioned doesn’t mean the media is concealing it.#generally it’s just a sign that what you’re trying to verify is misinformation that you shouldn’t spread#a post of mine
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Hmmmmm time to pick a name for my Vaguely East Asian™ Female Love Interest!!! I shall name her….Ching Chong. Wait. No. I should change it to have plausible deniability—I’m not racist, and if I do this as a joke the libs will get mad at me for completely unfounded reasons. I’ll just change that “o” into an “a”…and shorten up that first name, and….her name will be Cho Chang! A perfectly not racist name to call a Vaguely East Asian™ Female Love Interest!
#like literally you cannot convince me this was not at least the subconscious thought process for her name#me as an 8 year old who can Definitely see the warning signs because I was 8 (I could not I was 8):#yeah this is fine!#I don’t know how there are still some people who are like#‘no but there’s no evidence of jkr’s bigotry other than her tweets it came out of nowhere’#did it? did it really?#no the answer is no it did not it was always there this is but one example#there are many reasons as to why jkr is a bastard#only those who have made themselves aware of such obscure and ambiguous rhetoric are oftentimes the ones who first point it out#this is the reality of quiet bigotry: that the bigots themselves obfuscate their intentions by giving themselves plausible deniability#average people who don’t seek out the dogwhistles don’t tend to notice them#so when someone knowledgeable comes along and points it out they’re labeled as ‘too sensitive’#or ‘looking for a fight’ or ‘just don’t like the person’#point being: I’m not any sort of Asian and before I learned about the racist phrase mentioned above#also because I was 8#I didn’t clock Cho Chang’s name as something to be Concerned about#at that point I thought it was just some Asian™ girl’s name#because I was 8#which I think is honestly the most insidious part of this ‘quiet bigotry’ as I’ve called it here#the fact that it’s not just vague on purpose to confuse the adults but ALSO not outright wrong or bigoted enough to alarm children
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/45d914221dbc477217372961468152b9/a4e4451c211ea55f-ae/s540x810/8ea8ea9cea43b50f68432ad4518f09803dd73074.jpg)
Satellite hermits AU | Etho
Etho [ engineer ] Etho is... A quirky guy. And a very elusive one, at that. He occupies one of the most distant stations west from the main valley and was among the very first settlers, although nobody can really recall seeing him when he first started showing up in radio comms. Even nowadays he's barely seen in person by anyone (except occasional meetings with his immediate neighbors). He knows a lot of seemingly random and obscure stuff, but is often confused by common knowledge
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/8ff55cbafb84b3b57252d48034626689/a4e4451c211ea55f-81/s540x810/144e207800a110848dadaf81389f0c2662c51750.jpg)
Even though he sometimes says or does weird things, everyone loves Etho :)
: > search: "Etho"
LOG 01520: ...Joel brought to attention of some expedition members that <Etho> [REDACTED]. He thinks he was sent by ISC (the "Watchers"), although both Scar and I argue there is a mistake. Because there is. We agreed on looking into it later this week...
LOG 02821: ...On the third night of the search operation for [REDACTED], <Etho> confessed (under pressure of a gunpoint) [REDACTED] [YOU'RE NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW THIS] [WE AGREED ON KEEPING IT A SECRET] resolved peacefully. 5 [UPDATED:7?] people know about it. No reports mentioning this were sent to Earth, except for the report about the first accident and [REDACTED] along with it to finally be put at rest at homeland...
: > back: 01520
LOG 01520 not found.
: > back: 02821
LOG 02821 not found.
#satellite hermits au#truth be told satellite etho really needs a hug#but he'd rather bite his tongue off than ask for one#etho#ethoslab#bdubs#hermitcraft#hermitblr#taigartyen
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Don't feed him he'll come back
simon riley x neighbour! reader
summary: The ghost that lives in your apartment is a solitary man, people tend to stay out of his way, giving him a wide berth. You can't help but think he seems a little bit lonely, cue pestering him with bad jokes and food.
word count: 1.6k
part 2 here
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There’s a ghost that lives in your apartment block. Though it feels more accurate to say he’s an occasional visitor. He comes and goes, like a lost spirit, unsure and aimlessly wandering. He slinks silently through the hallways like a wraith in the few instances when he is there.
The first time you see him is just a glimpse from the corner of your eye, a large hulking shadow standing at the door next to your apartment as you step out from yours.
Your feet stutter to a stop, the landlord had mentioned a neighbour but in the 3 months you’d lived there you’d never seen him. As if sensing your eyes lingering curiously on his form, deep brown eyes turn to meet yours. You can make out no other details of his face, the black material of his balaclava obscuring most of his features.
A century could have passed in those few seconds and you doubt you’d have noticed. Despite the weariness in his gaze, you found yourself pulled into the deep pools of those stunning eyes. Like a predator, his gaze never moves from your body, even as you offer him a friendly smile and wave before walking down the hall to continue your day.
You’d heard the uneasily whispered tales of the Ghost that haunted the apartment next to yours from some of the older tenants, though you’d never put much stock into the idle gossip. His burning gaze bores into your back and follows until the doors of the elevator close and you suppose you should feel intimidated.
It’s hard to conjure up any such feelings, even with the knowledge of the wariness he elicits in others. It’s hard to fear the hulking figure of the Ghost when he had such sad eyes.
He hid it well but you recognised the loneliness that lined his shoulders, the bone-deep exhaustion for life that managed to slip through tiny cracks in his self-imposed shield.
You suppose at that moment that even Ghosts can be haunted.
Maybe that’s why you found yourself knocking on his door later that evening with the tray of pasta bake. Initially, you’d made a large batch to have a few days left over for yourself. Yet just as you opened your fridge you’d hesitated, mind flashing to the man next door. Did he have any food for himself? There was likely nothing fresh, and he’d seemed too exhausted to pull himself to the grocery store during the brief encounter earlier.
Donning your Crocs, you’d marched over and knocked on his door before it properly registered that you were in pyjamas. The door swings open and your eyes trail up, the balaclava is gone, replaced with a simple black face mask letting you glimpse blond hair.
“Sorry if this is a bit intrusive, but I figured you probably didn’t have any food so…” you trailed off, pushing the tray towards him, expectantly waiting for him to grab it. It took a few seconds before he robotically took the tray, probably out of sheer confusion more than anything else. Stepping back before he could return the food you offered one last smile before fleeing to the sanctuary of your apartment.
Two days later you exit your apartment to an empty and cleaned tray, a small note with a simple ‘thank you’ placed within.
His name’s Simon, and apart from an introduction and the occasional dish left at his door, you don’t actually interact with him again until nearly a month later. And that had simply been a case of forced proximity a la broken elevator style.
Simon remained unflappable as ever, and it’s at that moment you decide to try and get a reaction that isn’t stoic silence.
“A bear walks into a bar and says give me a whiskey and …cola” Brown eyes turned to look at you curiously, brow raised to let you know he was listening. “Why the big pause? Asks the bartender. The bear shrugged. I’m not sure, I was born with them.”
The joke doesn’t land, silence is the only reward for your comedy genius. “Ok, playing hardball. Alright then… Why did Susan fall off the swings?” Again, there is no answer, but a glance at his relaxed posture indicates he’s listening. “Because she had no arms.”
No laugh but you blaze ahead.
“Knock knock.” It takes a few seconds but with a playful glare, he responds quietly and with a tinge of amusement.
“Who’s there?” It’s not the first time you’ve heard his voice, but it still births a serious case of butterflies in your gut that takes more than a few seconds to fight down and regain your composure.
“Not Susan.” You can’t stop the peal of your giggles at that one, and while you swear you see the corner of his cheek curve upwards a little it’s not enough for you to be satisfied.
“I can’t believe it’s come to this, but I guess it’s time for the big guns. You better prepare yourself Riley 'cause I’m done holding back.” You pause for a few seconds to let the anticipation settle.
“What is… Whitney Houston’s favourite type of coordination?” You take a deep breath before positively belting out, “HAAAAAAAND-EEEEEYE.” Whether it’s the shock from the sudden musical number or the joke itself you’re finally rewarded with a faint chuckle.
“Aha!” you shout in triumph, a smug grin splitting your face, “I heard that laugh, you can do more scowl!”
The doors suddenly open with a ding and Simon pushes off the wall, but not before rolling his eyes playfully your way. Silence once again descends during the walk to your respective apartments, yet it’s not uncomfortable. Swiping your key card it’s just as you step through the threshold that you hear it,
“Why did the chicken go the seance? To get to the other side.” Whipping your head around, you are met with the sight of his door closing behind his large frame, but a win is a win and you celebrate mentally over the exchange.
The next time you leave a dish at his door it comes with a written joke. Sure enough, a few days later you received one back. The months start to blur, and your Ghost comes and goes, but the jokes remain.
Month three sees you snagging his number, a daily joke sent his way even when he can’t respond. Because as much as Simon Riley tried to hide his hurts from the world, he couldn’t hide them from you.
You’ve loved a soldier before in your brother, can see the signs and smell the gunsmoke and blood from miles away. Apart from his team, it becomes obvious the man has nobody left, and believes he doesn’t deserve to be cared for.
You’re not foolish enough to think you can be that for him, but you are understanding enough to give him the choice. So you continue to send him jokes, puns, pictures of your cat Bingbong and anything that you think will get him to at least smile.
Three months turns to six turns to eight. He’s not physically there most of the time but you take every opportunity he is to coax him from the loneliness of his apartment like a stray kitten.
Once-a-week dinners at least. Freely sharing your life’s story without expecting anything in return. One evening you’d plopped your chunky tuxedo cat down on his lap and watched him freeze, hands hovering with wide eyes as he considered the ball of fur making biscuits on his thigh.
It was cute. He was cute. Even when he whipped around to glare when you took a photo, the corners of his lips downturned and tugged at the scars on his face. His bare face wasn’t necessarily a new sight but it causes your breath to hitch nonetheless.
Something you think he notices given the way his lips quirked up suddenly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes you huffed before plonking yourself down next to him on the couch. Bingbong doesn’t scramble onto your lap like you expect, instead deciding to remain on his new favourite human, traitor.
You pay very little attention to the movie even though you’d chosen it, too acutely focused on the large bulk of Simon next to you. Your shoulder rests against his arm, his body heat emanating from beneath his hoodie and absorbing into your skin.
You’ve never been one to fall asleep during movies, but there’s something about Simon’s presence that soothes you, lulling you into a restful slumber as you slump against his chest. Bingbong meows his discontent as you accidentally squish him, jumping away with a huff, none of which you notice.
It’s the sun shining straight onto your face through the open blinds that wakes you the next morning, a groan of confusion leaving your lips as you stretch and look around to orient yourself.
Sitting up, the blanket that you just now realised covered your form fell down to your waist. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes your phone falls to the floor when you stand, the screen flicking on to display the time.
It’s not until you sleepily stumble into your bedroom, plugging your nearly dead phone in and face-planting onto your pillow that you realise Simon must have tucked you in. The smile that covers your face is so wide it is painful and you fall asleep once more, dreaming of the phantom sensation of his arms wrapped around you.
#x reader#cod mw x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley#ghost mw2#ghost cod
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new lesson | aeon! dr. ratio x f. reader ( 18+ )
not a continuation post but more like a horny extra sideplot you're welcome you freaks /j in which our aeon ratio has come to learn that he, too, has human desires. he's perhaps a little too fond of his emanator, and perhaps his emanator is a little too pretty for him to be able to control himself. my aeon ratio plot here tags : face fucking, mind break, power play, mind control, consensual nonconsent that turns into to consent, painful sex, womb penetration, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, begging / whining / crying, use of the term 'girl', religious imagery sorta, ratio has a huge dick and it hurts, he also doesn't know the limits of the human body and pushes you way past yours, coercion almost, obsession, mention of stalking, yandere ratio, reader almost loses consciousness twice, struggling, afab anatomy, finger fucking, possessiveness, mean ratio calls you a failure once god x disciple word count : roughly 4000
the aeon of dissemination has taught you plenty while you were underneath his tutelage. so many whispers of the cosmos that others would fail to hear, so many secrets untold, shared only by those in the know. an all-powerful being with much more power than you could ever hope to know, yes, and yet.. during your private lessons together, you found yourself bearing witness to his more human side more often than not. your time together was much less a deity whispering incomprehensible knowledge to his devout pupil, and much more a civil conversation between humans. almost.
you were his emanator, which meant that you derived your power directly from him. this caused you to be able to reach heights previously unknown to you, but it also became your shackles. you were bound to his word, for his word was law. if he told you to bark, you would bark. you had no choice in the matter. if he told you to, by any chance, strip down and worship naked at his feet, well, you couldn't deny him that, either.
ratio had grown to enjoy his time with you. no, rather, he had grown fond of you. you learned quickly, you asked the right questions, you were beautiful, and kind. you were everything he wished for in a companion. even aeons get lonely too, surely you understood that. he found himself curious about you while you were away from him, often opting to lose his corporeal form and watch you from the shadows. he had always preferred doing things from the shadows, anyways, so this was nothing new.
you were beautiful. not just in your mind, but your body, too, something that ratio hated to admit. he had assumed, wrongly, that he had no attraction to human bodies, only human minds. but yours.. it stirred something in him, made him question himself. his motives, his.. desires.
and he desired you. he wanted that to be clear, and yet he bided his time, waiting patiently in the shadows of your home for the next time he would summon you before him, something coming up rather soon.
as you arrived within his domain - a huge, expansive, never ending library filled from top to bottom of books on everything in the universe. no matter how obscure, you could find the information you were seeking in front of you, from the tiniest of details of the most unknown planets to the biggest complexities of the cosmos.
" dr. ratio, it's good to see you again, " you called out, approaching his throne, sat in the center, surrounded by bookshelves covering every side by the front. there, ratio was sat, his legs crossed with an old book in his hand. " i pray you're doing well ? "
" i am, " he nodded, his demanding gaze flickering from the book to you, taking in your every single move. ratio snapped his book closed, his eyes never leaving yours, leaning forward in his throne. " i have been reading about human pleasure. it has been a subject previously untouched by me, but as you know, one must encapsulate all things to be able to full grasp the complexities of life. "
you stopped in your tracks, stunned. he had been reading about.. human pleasure ? you swallowed thickly, allowing yourself an awkward, small laugh, your hand coming up to the back of your head as you tried to figure out what to do with yourself under his gaze. " oh ! i.. see. it's surprising that you've just uncovered this now, considering your knowledge in human psychology. "
" would you say that those two things overlap ? " he asked, the book resting on his lap now, completely forgotten about now that he was in your presence, the human that had made the aeon of dissemination question himself.
" well.. they're definitely related, " you started, thinking about how to properly explain yourself before you said anything further, a quality that he admired. " human desires are just the culmination of inherently desirable qualities in a partner, right ? those who take a more submissive role often desire dominant partners in all aspects of their life, not just in the bedroom. of course, there are exceptions, but it could be used as a rule of thumb for understanding how humans interact with one another in a romantic and sexual sense. "
your explanation earned you the briefest of nods. " would you say that you yourself are in this broad generalization ? or are you an exception ? " he asked, his words low and gruff, like he was waiting on your answer to his question. " you, who dominates so much of your life. you teach the willing, guide them towards knowledge. not many would be above you in status, i presume. would you consider yourself in need of a partner who you can take control of, too, or would you rather.. be controlled ? "
you hesitated, something that he noticed. were you not willing to share such details with him ? was it because of his status, or simply because of your nature ? you were rather introverted, although not necessarily completely since you could command a room with just the tone of your voice. well, almost every room. this was one room that you had no control over.
you were confused, but mostly, you were curious. why did he want to know ? what was he gaining from learning such private and intimate details about yourself ? this was the first time that he had asked such revealing questions to you, although you weren't unaware of his recent curiosity with your life outside of the walls of this library. this was the first time he had actually shown any type of interest in you, and to be quite frank, it unnerved you a little bit. but if ratio asks a question, it gets answered. that much, you knew. " i.. find myself leaning towards the submissive role in bed. i prefer if my partner could.. command me, sometimes, and take control whenever possible. "
dr. ratio didn't say anything for a while, his eyes narrowing slightly, his legs uncrossing as he examined you from top to bottom, taking in your attire, and taking it off in his mind. he needed to know why he felt these desires towards you. he needed to know why you, specifically, out of everyone that he had interacted with within the cosmos, earned his gaze in a way that no others did. he didn't even know that he had these baser, more carnal instincts.
" now, who would be able to control you ? you, an emanator of the dissemination, a being with knowledge vast beyond most mortal comprehension, " his eyes sparkled with something as he beckoned you forward, signaling for you to get on your knees in front of him, something that he very rarely did. and yet you complied, and his interest in this situation only grew. " who could control you.. other than myself ? "
kneeling down in front of him, and looking up at his eyes, you sucked in a breath, your heart beginning to race in your chest as you thought about the implications of his words. were you truly interpreting his words correctly, or was this another one of his many wise warnings that he often bestowed upon you when you have strayed too far away from your chosen path ? and yet, you could see the smirk on his otherwise stoic face, and you knew that you weren't misunderstanding his words.
" strip for me, girl. " you felt that throbbing pain in your head that momentarily disorientated you, your hand rushing up to grab your forehead as you swayed slightly. you swore you could feel every single nerve in your body standing on end, a warning for what was to come. yet, this was not the feeling inside of you that you got when he was commanding you to do something that you had no choice in the matter of, you knew this for a fact because he had done that to you a few times while trying to guide you towards the correct path. you had no idea what this was, other than to perhaps remind you of his power over you.
nevertheless, even while bursting with embarrassment, you obliged, first taking off your purple blazer, undoing the buttons of your white dress shirt and slipping it off of your shoulders, before finally your skirt, something that made you more nervous than revealing your chest in front of him. you stood up onto your knees, bringing yourself in between his legs as you pulled your skirt and underwear down at the same time, letting the fabric pool beneath you at your knees.
" good girl, you're such a good girl, " he whispered, his hand reaching out, gently petting your head before combing through your hair, his gaze revealing nothing about his intentions, only the hunger inside of him. you'd only ever seen this look in his eyes whenever he was learning, and perhaps, in a way, he was learning something. " come closer. i trust you're experienced in this area, or should i teach you the basics ? "
you shuffled closer, your hands on your thighs as you didn't dare touch him. " i.. have a little experience, but not a lot. my apologies, i.. my lifestyle doesn't exactly allow me to often indulge in these kinds of.. activities with others. " you were just inches away from him, your face so close to his body, his crotch. you had so many questions. was this all just an elaborate test of sorts ? did he truly intend to teach you how to pleasure him ?
did he even have the anatomy for such a lewd idea ?
" it's okay, " he answered, as if hearing your thoughts, which he likely did. he was a being of immeasurable power, after all. and yet here he was, exerting his control over you and yet at the same time, losing his cool like a lovesick fool unable to keep himself together in the face of a beautiful person. " i'm rather fond of willing students, so don't worry. you'll learn, i am sure of that. you're a very capable being, after all. "
" this body is human in all capacities, " he continued, his hand still on the back of your head, subtly pulling you closer. " i originally believed it to be human in all ways except for the brain, but i believe i have been incorrect. it seems this form, no, i retain many of humanities baser, more carnal instincts. i would like you to service me. you may begin with removing this trousers from me. i will guide you, but i'll warn you, i won't be gentle. "
all you could muster was a small nod, your hands finding their way to his pants, shaking with nervousness, and also maybe just a twinge of excitement. here, you would have an aeon underneath your touch, begging for you. surely this was a pleasure that not many got to partake in. you could see it straining against the fabric of his pants, begging to be released, and you couldn't help but purse your lips together nervously, taken aback by its size.
finally working up the courage, you unzipped his trousers, pulling them from his hips down to his legs, letting the fabric fall beneath him onto your lap, leaving him in just his underwear, his cock pressed up against his leg, the bulge in his underwear now impossible to ignore. you looked up again at him for confirmation, to which he just nodded. " proceed. show me your worthiness to be at my side. take me into your mouth. if you don't think you can do it, i will guide you. "
you bit your bottom lip, your nervousness slowly turning into palpable excitement as you finally pulled his underwear off of him, freeing his cock from its confines once and for all. he was bigger than you'd expected, with precum messily coating his bulbous tip. he was huge, so much bigger than anything you've ever seen before, making all other sexual situation you'd been in before this one become meaningless in comparison. ratio's grip on the back of your head tightened, almost painful as he leaned you forward, giving you virtually no choice but to comply with his demands.
nervously, you kitten licked the head of his cock, one of your hands holding the base of it so you could bring it to your mouth. determination to prove yourself filled you, along with undeniable arousal, but you knew that there was simply no way to take all of him in your mouth without pitifully choking, and he must've been aware, too. you began to bob your head up and down his length, feeling an unfamiliar sting in the back of your throat every time the head of his cock hit the back of your throat.
you continued this for a moment, earning contented groans from his lips, until you found your throat constricting involuntarily at the intrusion. you gagged, pulling away from him completely as you coughed, feeling your stomach do backflips.
if you couldn't take it properly without struggling, he decided, then ratio would just have to force you to take his cock to show you how it's done, even if you gag around him. his expression darkened as he pulled your head towards him, forcing himself deep into your mouth. you gagged almost immediately, your hands grabbing at his thighs as he controlled your head, forcing you to take more of his cock.
" you can't handle my size ? you're pathetic. a failure, " his voice was filled with disappointment and anger, and you could do nothing but look up at him, tears forming in your eyes from his bruising pace as he fucked your face without mercy. you couldn't breathe properly, struggling against him weakly, your nails digging into the flesh of his thighs, not out of disobedience for him, but because when humans feel as though they're dying or they can't breathe, they often try to fight to get their airway back, struggling uselessly.
" i'll show you how to please me properly, " ratio's hand pulled and pushed your head with your hair, his hips thrusting his cock deeper into your throat. your gagging is ignored as you choke around him. " fuck. yes, that's it. take it. learn to swallow my cock. learn to love it, " he threw his head back, groaning underneath his breath. " you can be so good at this, i know you can. "
he wasn't stopping, especially not when he was finally starting to feel good because of you, the pleasure building up inside of him. tears began to streak down your reddening face, your eyebrows creased together as you struggled. ratio fucked your face relentlessly, thrusting inside of your mouth and using you like his own personal fucktoy. finally, the resistance in your throat gave way after a particularly harsh thrust, and he penetrated your throat, his cock so deep inside of you that you couldn't breathe at all anymore. your eyes widened, your heart beating against your chest, the painful lesson beginning to take root.
despite the treatment, your slick was pooling between your thighs, creating a puddle of it beneath you. his rough treatment turned you on more than you'd ever thought possible.
ratio seemed to notice this, his tone holding a hint of amusement as he used your face, your nose pressed up against his pubic bone, his balls resting on your chin. " can't breathe ? perhaps you prefer i choke you completely like this ? you're enjoying it, craving it like a drug now. i must say, i find myself captivated by your abilities, too. "
you could feel your own helplessness, the power that he held over you surpassing even what you thought possible. you understood this lesson, although you could feel your head starting to fog up with the lack of air. you were trying desperately to find a way to breathe around his cock, but he was too deep in your throat, clogging up your airway. his guide on your head became painful as ratio invaded your body.
your eyes rolled back, your hands falling down to your side as you almost lost consciousness. finally, before you could truly lose yourself to the black abyss, he pulled your head up off of him, letting you gasp and choke, all of the spit that he was keeping in your mouth slipping down your lips, covering your chest and lap as you coughed up the air, blinking rapidly to familiarize yourself with being able to breathe again. your stomach was churning, and you damn near threw up everything that you had eaten for breakfast that morning. you felt weightless and incredibly heavy at the same time.
" you're a good girl. you learn quickly, " he smirked, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watched you catch your breath. finally, he stood up, his cock still throbbing painfully, ready to finally take what he'd wanted. " turn around, girl. "
that painful feeling in your head came back, causing you to wince in pain as he commanded you to turn around. finally agreeing, you turned around on your knees, looking away from him. his large hand pushed at your back, knocking you onto your hands, your ass up in the air for him to see. ratio had made himself comfortable with being in between your legs, his eyes admiring your naked form, seeing your pretty folds glistening with so much slick it was dripping down your thighs.
" such a pretty little thing. human bodies are beautiful beyond compare, even in the eyes to an aeon, but yours ? oh, yours is magnificent. truly, you are worthy of being by my side, " his voice was low as two of his fingers penetrated your wetness, testing your readiness for what was to come. he savored the feeling of your tightness around him, the way your muscles gripped his digits.
you gasped, letting out a whiny, pathetic little noise as you moaned, your back arching as his fingers hit that special spot inside of you, caressing it in such a way that had you drooling like a dumb mutt on your knees in seconds. his fingers moved rhythmically, his gaze on where they disappeared and reappeared from your body. the anticipation was building within him, and he found himself fucking you faster with his fingers, enjoying every tiny little mewl and whine of pleasure as it came from your bruised throat.
your cries of pleasure fueled him, the sight of you writhing, begging, and ultimately submitting to him was almost as satisfying as the power he held over you. " that's it. you're such a good girl. " without warning you, he pulled his fingers out from you, your body clenching around nothing as your moans quickly turned into gasps. " you're going to take me now, yeah ? submit to me, and i promise you a lesson that you'll never forget. "
your eyes widened, even though you knew ratio couldn't see it, and you felt your anxiety spike. " y-you can't..! i-it's too big, it'll break me, please ! " you begged, but your voice was falling on deaf ears as one of his hands gripped your hips, guiding his shaft to your entrance.
" your body is resilient, and i'm confident it'll accommodate me, " with a swift motion, he pushed into you, his cock stretching her wide. you cried out, your body tensing as he slowly withdrew and thrust again, just testing the waters of what you could and couldn't take. as his entire length disappeared inside of you, he couldn't stop his hips from snapping up, pounding his cock into you.
your scream of pleasure filled this vast library, a symphony of pain and pleasure. " a-ah, fuck..! your cock, i-its- it hu-hurts, 's too big.. " you sobbed, babbling on like an idiot, your words incomprehensible, your voice hiccupping in your throat. you were feeling like you were being split in half from him, like your body wasn't yours anymore. just like you suspected earlier, no other human man you'd had sex with previously compared to him, and you'd never quite be able to get fucked like this again if it weren't ratio.
ratio leaned down, his body pressed against yours, whispering in your ear, " you love this, yeah ? its painful, but it feels amazing. " his hips pumped faster, your cries echoing through the library with each thrust. your protests turned into pleas, your words lost in your ecstasy. " i want you to come for me. you'll cum again, and again, and again, until you belong to me entirely. you'll cum for me, and say my fucking name, " he promised.
you cried out, your sobs and moans mingling together as you struggled to figure out what you wanted to do, whether or not you wanted to pull him closer or force him away all at once. you were going to cum, and there was nothing you could do about it other than let him fuck you like he wanted to. pain and pleasure mingled together, but not so much as when he slammed into you with all of his body weight, the tightness of your body giving way as the head of his cock breached your womb. " v-veritas..! " you moaned out, and it all exploded within you, your pussy clenching around him as he fucked you through your orgasm, the pain of him breaching your womb and the pleasure of his fucking being far, far too much for you to take.
ratio grunted, feeling your walls squeeze around his cock as she came, milking him, too. the sensation was exquisite, his thrusts becoming frantic as he fucked himself into you as your arms gave out from underneath your, your face planting into the cold tile below. at this point, he was focused solely on his own gratification, pumping into you as your hips met his, your moans like a beautiful lullaby to his ears. " g-goddammit, " he swore, his balls drawing tight, his orgasm imminent at this point. he pulled your hips into his, his cock pulsing deep within you as his orgasm washed over him in waves, filling you completely with his seed, causing you to mewl out pitifully in response.
finally, he pulled out, his cum spilling out from your pretty pussy, dripping onto the floor beneath the two of you. he helped pick you up, cradling your body in his arms as the two of you rest at the foot of his throne together. you were nestled against his chest, your breathing coming out raggedly as you looked up at him, your eyes half closed and your body weak. ratio had breached you completely, filled you up in ways that you didn't even know possible. such was the ways of an aeon, you thought, unable to fight back against him even if you wanted to.
" you've taught me a lot about the human body, " ratio whispered, content just to hold you there, his voice holding a hint of vulnerability. " no, the human body, and perhaps the human mind, too. my own mind. thank you for this lesson, dear emanator. "
perhaps being an emanator didn't always mean that you held all of the power. after all, there will always be a being with more power than you.
#honkai star rail#dr ratio#hsr fanfic#veritas ratio#honkai sr#honkai star rail x reader#x reader#hsr x reader#hsr smut#honkai smut#honkai star rail smut#smut#veritas ratio smut#hsr veritas#veritas x reader#dr ratio smut#veritas ratio x reader#hsr ratio smut#star rail smut
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Fun things to throw into your writing to make character dynamics more interesting: Give them wildly different ideas of what is and is not common knowledge.
Like one of them casually mentions an extremely obscure and nuanced detail about the cultural customs of a small minority people living on a completely different continent, that none of the other ones have even heard of, or 2/3 of the party argue that obviously an average adult should have at least some basic level of skill in electrical installation.
Have the whole party go "yeah yeah, the time knife, we've all seen it" about something that all of them consider an obvious thing that everyone knows, except for two characters who otherwise have nothing in common, who are the only ones who have never heard of that and have no idea where they were supposed to learn it.
One of them accidentally microwaves a spoon and pops in like "hey did you know that putting metal in a microwave doesn't always make it explode and kill everyone?" And some other character looks at them in utter baffled confusion and asks
"What the fuck is a microwave?"
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A little appreciation for the domains of a deity that don't get much attention/recognition. I'm making this because I do think it would be lovely if the aspects mentioned below got more attention, and additions not mentioned are welcome so long as it's an obscure part of them. This was going to be just a few and then I got carried away and did the main Twelve Olympians
A little love for:
Apollon as the God of Foreigners (the Arcadian friendship's harmony with Hermes being the god of travelers/way-god couldn't be any louder)
Aphrodite as a Goddess of the Arts (anything love-themed falls to her by default)
Ares of Civil Order, Defender, and Of Courage
Artemis as the Goddess of Dancing and equal Leader of the Mousai
Athene as the Goddess of Carpentry, Metalwork, and Sculpting
Demeter as Friend of Peace and Law-Giver
Hephaistos as the one with a delicate touch that creates beautiful works of art (It isn't so much unknown but honestly the thing I love most and not the first thing one thinks of with his talents/image)
Hera as the Skillful Bender of Language, Bender of Oaths and Promises
Hermes, God of Peace/Diplomacy, Divine Protector of All, as well as a God of Poetry and Knowledge (rightfully the other half to Athene)
Hestia of the Earth, Earth Dwelling and Delighting in the Works of Man, The One That Made Buildings
Poseidon of Fertility, the Plant Nurturer, and Holder of the Earth
Zeus of the People, Gracious and Merciful, Of Refuge, Counsellor
#hellenic polytheism#hellenic pagan#hellenic gods#hellenic paganism#hellenic polytheist#helpol#apollon#apollo#apollon deity#aphrodite#aphrodite deity#ares#ares deity#artemis#artemis deity#athene#athena#athena deity#athene deity#demeter#demeter deity#hera#hera deity#hermes#hermes deity#hestia#hestia deity#hephaistos#hephaestus#poseidon
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“Zhongli, you literally look like the Geo Archon statue. How come nobody’s suspected anything?”
“Trust me my dear, I have been questioned once.” Zhongli smiles in amusement at the memory.
He recounts to you a time when he had first taken on this form as Zhongli of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, and was wandering around the outskirts of the harbor. A young man stopped him, squinting at Zhongli’s handsome (and very ostentatiously amber -eyed) countenance. Zhongli recognised him as one of his coworkers, and greeted him.
The man, ignoring his greeting, instead told him pointedly, “You look a lot like Rex Lapis, you know. From the statues around Liyue.”
Zhongli merely tilted his head with a soft chuckle. “Rex Lapis dons a hood. How could you discern such a far-fetched thing?”
The coworker, shaking his head, continued, “And your eyes are shiny and golden. Like Rex Lapis in his stories.”
“That is merely my natural brown eye colour enhanced a faint golden thanks to my Geo vision.” Despite himself, Zhongli’s heartbeat gets a tad faster.
“And you’re quite knowledgeable on things even my grandpa can’t know!” exclaims the other man, exasperated. “Obscure bits of lore even seasoned historians are confounded by! No to mention you’ve got this…old aura about you. Like you’re wayyy older than we all think. It’s like…you’re…”
Zhongli has the faintest of a frown on his face as he sees the fellow’s accusatory look. “Go on.”
“You must be…”
Zhongli thought he should remove human feelings of nervousness from his bodily constitution altogether. A single bead of sweat materialised on his forehead as he waited for the man’s answer.
“…You must be a really, really big fan of Rex Lapis!”
His lungs deflated in a huge sigh of relief. “Ah yes…yes, that may be the case. Yes, I am indeed a devout follower of Rex Lapis.”
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hey I need cheol to fuck and breed me stupid for doing well on my exams :(
Hit the Books, Hit the Sheets
Synopsis: Where after weeks with your face buried inside of books on the brink of exhaustion, however, when the day of the exam arrives, your hard work pays off as you receive notice of an outstanding grade—an A+. Overwhelmed with pride and joy, Seungcheol decides to reward you for your dedication. WC: 3.4k WARNINGS: Smut, mentions of body fluids, breeding, oral (f. receiving), praising, dirty talk, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, g'spot stimulation and lots and lots of praising (again).
Seungcheol walked into the apartment, tired from a long day's work. As he entered the living room, he noticed the familiar sight of you buried in your books, your face obscured by the pages. Concern tugged at his heartstrings as he observed the weariness etched on your features, the faint dark circles under your eyes telling a silent tale of your relentless study sessions.
"Baby," he called softly, approaching you with cautious steps. "You should take some rest. You've been at it all day."
You glanced up briefly, offering him a tired smile before returning your attention to the book in front of you. "I will, Seungcheol. Just a little more to go through."
Seungcheol sighed, taking a seat beside you on the bed. "You've been saying that for days now. I'm worried about you, sweetheart. You need to take care of yourself too."
Your brows furrowed slightly in concentration as you flipped another page, your mind fully consumed by the wealth of knowledge before you. "I know, Seungcheol. But I have exams coming up, and I need to be prepared."
He reached out, gently placing a hand on yours to stop your relentless flipping of pages. "I understand that, but pushing yourself too hard isn't healthy. You need to find a balance."
You met his concerned gaze, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your heart. "I'll rest after I finish this chapter, I promise."
Seungcheol sighed once more, realizing that his words were falling on deaf ears, your mind too deeply immersed in your studies to truly register his concerns. With a heavy heart, he leaned back against the pillows, silently watching as you continued to pour over your books, the weight of exhaustion evident in every line of your posture. He knew he couldn't force you to stop, but he hoped that eventually, you would realize the importance of taking care of yourself, even amidst the chaos of exams and deadlines.
s the days went by and Seungcheol noticed you becoming increasingly consumed by your studies, he took it upon himself to ensure you were taking care of your physical health as well. Despite your insistence on studying continuously, he made it a point to interrupt your sessions with nutritious snacks and meals.
He would gently tap you on the shoulder, interrupting your concentration momentarily as he placed a plate of fresh fruit or a homemade sandwich beside your books. "I brought you some snacks, sweetheart," he would say softly, a hint of concern in his voice.
You would offer him a grateful smile, pausing your reading momentarily to indulge in the nourishment he provided. Though your mind was still preoccupied with your studies, you couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth and appreciation for his thoughtfulness.
At dinner time, Seungcheol would coax you away from your desk, gently reminding you of the importance of taking a break and nourishing your body. He would prepare wholesome meals, ensuring that you ate enough to sustain your energy levels through the long hours of studying ahead.
As Seungcheol pulled up to the college campus, he turned to you with a reassuring smile. "You've got this, babe," he said, his voice filled with encouragement. "Just remember everything you've studied, and trust in yourself. I believe in you."
You nodded, feeling a surge of determination as you gripped his hand tightly. "Thank you, Seungcheol," you replied, your voice filled with gratitude. "I'll do my best."
With one last reassuring squeeze of your hand, Seungcheol watched as you stepped out of the car and made your way towards the college building. As you disappeared from view, he couldn't help but feel a swell of pride for the strength and resilience you displayed, even in the face of daunting challenges.
Once you were inside the campus, your phone began to buzz incessantly with messages from Seungcheol, each one filled with words of encouragement and love.
"Hey babe, you've got this! I believe in you!"
"Just a reminder that you're amazing and capable of anything, including acing this exam. I'm cheering for you all the way!"
"You're gonna ace that exam, my love! Make me proud!"
With each message that popped up on your screen, you felt a surge of confidence and determination. Seungcheol's unwavering support served as a constant source of motivation, driving you to give it your all during the exam.
You settle into your seat, the words of Seungcheol echoing in your mind like a comforting melody. With a determined click of your pen, you begin to write, each stroke of ink on paper fueled by his unwavering belief in you. As you tackle the exam questions with a newfound sense of confidence, memories of Seungcheol flash before your eyes, reminding you that you are capable of overcoming any challenge that comes your way.
Hours pass in a blur of concentration and determination, until finally, you complete the exam and hand it to your professor. It's almost ironic how quickly he corrects your paper, mere minutes compared to the weeks of intense study that preceded this moment. But as you sit in your seat once again, waiting for the final grade, you can't help but feel a sense of pride knowing that you gave it your all, guided by the unwavering support of Seungcheol.
Heart pounding in your chest, you rise from your seat as your teacher calls your name to receive your exam. With trembling hands, you accept the paper, barely able to contain the anticipation bubbling within you. As your eyes scan the page, your breath catches in your throat at the sight of the A+ adorned with a red circle, a silent testament to your hard work and dedication.
"Thank you," you manage to whisper to your teacher, a grateful smile gracing your lips as you swiftly exit the classroom. Once outside, you find a secluded spot and press your knuckles against your mouth to stifle a scream of joy, tears of relief and happiness pricking at the corners of your eyes.
With trembling fingers, you dial Seungcheol's number, the night's breeze swirling around you as you wait anxiously for him to pick up. Finally, his voice fills your ears, sweet and familiar, as he greets you with a warmth that washes over you like a comforting embrace.
"Hey, how did it go?" he asks eagerly, his excitement palpable even through the phone.
You take a deep breath, the words tumbling out in a rush as you share the news. "I got an A+, Seungcheol! I did it!"
On the other end of the line, you can practically hear Seungcheol's jubilant celebration, his joyous jumps echoing through the receiver. "That's amazing, sweetheart! I knew you could do it!"
He pauses for a moment before continuing, his voice filled with determination. "Don't move, okay? I'm coming to pick you up right now. We're going to celebrate at your favorite restaurant."
In a matter of minutes, Seungcheol's car pulls up in front of the college, and you can't help but feel a rush of excitement as you spot him stepping out of the driver's seat. His face lights up with a beaming smile as he rushes towards you, his arms outstretched for a big hug.
You meet him halfway, throwing yourself into his embrace as he lifts you off the ground in a tight squeeze. The warmth of his hug envelops you, filling you with a sense of comfort and joy as you revel in the moment.
"Congratulations, my love," he murmurs into your ear, his voice filled with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you."
As he sets you back down, he takes your hand and leads you towards the car, opening the door for you with a flourish. "Let's go celebrate," he says, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "But first, you need to eat well. You've earned it."
With a grateful smile, you climb into the car beside him.
After a celebratory dinner at your favorite restaurant with Seungcheol, you return home feeling content and relaxed. The warmth of the hot water soothes your tired muscles as you sink into the bath, letting the steam envelop you in a cocoon of relaxation. With each passing minute, the stress of the day melts away, leaving you feeling lighter and more at ease.
Once you've finished your bath, you towel off and before climbing into bed beside Seungcheo, and you can't help but smile as you watch him play on his phone. But when he senses your presence, he quickly tosses the device aside and turns his attention to you, his lips finding their way to your face in a trail of soft kisses.
You giggle at his affectionate display, enjoying the gentle caress of his lips against your skin as he peppers kisses down your face, tracing a path along your jawline and down to your neck. His touch sends shivers down your spine, and you can't help but laugh at the ticklish sensation.
But as his kisses linger on your neck, you feel a sudden rush of sensitivity, a soft moan escaping your lips involuntarily. Seungcheol's eyes light up at the sound, a mischievous glint dancing in his gaze.
He chuckles softly, his lips trailing lower along your neck, leaving a trail of feather-light kisses in their wake. "Since you've been so amazing today," he murmurs against your skin, "I think it's only fair that I give you a reward."
Your breath catches in your throat as you feel his touch ignite a fire within you, anticipation building with each passing second. "And what might that be?" you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
As he reaches your belly, he gently pushes up your jersey, granting him full access to your clothed pussy. Your body trembles with anticipation as his gaze locks with yours, his eyes filled with an intense hunger that sends a shiver of excitement coursing through you.
Without hesitation, Seungcheol lowers himself even further, his lips brushing against the fabric covering your clit. A soft moan escapes your lips as you feel the warmth of his breath against your most sensitive area.
With a teasing grin, Seungcheol leans in closer, his tongue flicking out to trace a slow stripe along your clothed clit. You flinch, moving your hips impatiently to feel his tongue.
As Seungcheol removes your panties and spreads your legs wide open, anticipation pulses through your veins, your body thrumming with desire. When his wet and hot tongue makes contact with your clit, you throw your head back, a moan escaping your lips.
"Mmm…" you moan, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel the sensitivity of your clit heightened after days of intense studying, your body craving the release that only Seungcheol can provide.
Your fingers tangle in his hair, urging him on as his tongue flicks your clit with increasing speed. The pleasure builds and builds, each stroke of his tongue driving you closer to the edge.
"Ah! Oh god, Seungcheol," you cry out, the pleasure becoming almost unbearable. You can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter within you, your body teetering on the brink of release.
As you gasp for breath, you plead with him, your voice dripping with desperation. "I'm gonna cum, Seungcheol. Please, please!"
With a primal growl, Seungcheol redoubles his efforts, sucking your pussy with an intensity that leaves you trembling, you could listen to the sound he made while he slurped your cunt. The sensation is overwhelming, pushing you past the point of no return as you finally cum in his tongue.
"Oh, Seungcheol," you pant, your thighs tightening around his head as you ride out the waves of your orgasm. "You're... you're amazing. So good... so fucking good."
As Seungcheol continues to lavish attention on your sensitive pussy, your thighs instinctively tighten around his head, riding the waves of your orgasm with abandon. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks of pleasure shooting through you, intensifying the sensations to dizzying heights.
But as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear, your body convulses with oversensitivity, the overwhelming sensation bordering on pain. With a shaky breath, you finally manage to choke out a plea.
"Seungcheol, please... stop," you whimper, your voice laced with need and desperation.
Seungcheol pulls away reluctantly, his hands moving to grasp your boobs as he gazes down at you with a hungry glint in his eyes. You meet his gaze, your breath coming in ragged gasps as you struggle to regain your composure.
"God, you're so fucking beautiful," he murmurs, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could eat you out forever."
A blush creeps onto your cheeks at his words, but a surge of arousal floods through you at the praise. With a coy smile, you reach out to trace a finger along his jawline, the intimacy of the moment igniting a fire within you.
"You're amazing" you whisper, your voice husky with desire.
His eyes darken with desire at your words, and he leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. "I'll always make you feel good, baby" he murmurs against your lips. "You're mine, and I'll take care of you forever."
As your lips meld in a heated, passionate kiss, you feel Seungcheol's tongue eagerly seeking entrance, his lips sucking and teasing yours. With a soft whimper, your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer as desire courses through your veins.
Seungcheol breaks the kiss, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he gazes down at you with dark, lust-filled eyes. "What do you want, babygirl?" he murmurs, his voice husky with desire.
You whimper softly, your body pulsing with need as you meet his gaze with a hunger of your own. "I need you," you whisper, your voice trembling with desire. "I need you to fuck me, Seungcheol. I need you to make me yours." At this point, you were completely crazy for him, after all these days without his touch that you craved so much.
A hungry grin spreads across Seungcheol's lips as he leans in closer, his hands moving to grip your hips possessively. "Oh, baby," he growls, his voice dripping with desire. "I'm going to please you all night long. You're mine, and I'm going to make you feel so fucking good."
With a needy moan, you arch your back, pressing your body closer to his as you feel the heat of his arousal pressing against you. "Yes!" you whimper, your voice barely a whisper. "Please, Seungcheol."
Seungcheol's sweatpants fall to the floor, revealing his throbbing erection, wet and glistening with anticipation. Your breath catches in your throat as you watch him, your body trembling with need as you ache for him to fill you completely.
With a low groan, Seungcheol positions himself between your legs, his tip teasing your entrance, the anticipation sending sparks of pleasure coursing through your veins. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, he begins to enter you, his massive cock stretching you to your limits as you gasp at the sensation.
As he inches deeper inside you, Seungcheol's voice fills the air, his words dripping with pride and admiration. "I'm so proud of you, baby," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "You've worked so hard, and you deserve to be rewarded."
His words send a surge of warmth flooding through you, your heart swelling with love and gratitude for this man who stands before you, ready to give you everything you desire. With each thrust, he praises your efforts, his words driving you wild with desire.
"I'm going to fuck you so good, baby," he growls, his voice filled with primal need. "I'm going to make you feel every inch of me, the way you deserve it."
With each thrust, Seungcheol's words of love and admiration fill the room, mingling with the sounds of your moans and the wet slaps of your bodies coming together.
"I love you," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, as he drives himself deeper into you.
"You worked so hard," he praises, his movements becoming more urgent with each passing moment, as if he's trying to convey his love and appreciation through every thrust.
"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a soft caress against your skin, as he loses himself in the pleasure of being with you.
With every word, every declaration of love, Seungcheol's thrusts become more intense, more desperate, as if he's trying to pour all of his love and desire into you with each movement of his body.
"I love you!" he repeats, his voice a mantra of devotion as he continues to move inside you
As your cheeks flush with embarrassment, Seungcheol's gaze softens, his fingers gently caressing your hair with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His cock continues to pound into your g-spot with precision, each thrust sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you unable to do anything but moan and whimper in ecstasy.
"You like that, baby?" he coos, his voice low and husky with desire. "You like the way my cock feels inside you, hitting that sweet spot over and over again?"
You can only nod in response, your words lost in a sea of pleasure as Seungcheol's relentless thrusts drive you closer and closer to the edge of bliss.
"That's it," he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to drive into you with unbridled passion. "Just let go, baby. Let me take care of you. I'll make you feel so good, I promise."
With each word, each caress, Seungcheol's cock pounds into you with an intensity that leaves you breathless, your body writhing beneath him as you surrender yourself completely to the pleasure he provides.
"Oh, fuck," Seungcheol groans, his voice strained with pleasure as he feels your pussy spasming around him, the clenching sensation making him stutter in his movements. "You feel so good, baby. So tight and wet around my cock."
As you roll your eyes back in ecstasy, lost in the pleasure of his thrusts, Seungcheol's words become more desperate, more urgent.
"God, you're driving me crazy," he gasps, his hips thrusting faster and harder, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through him. "I can't hold back anymore, baby. I'm gonna cum so hard for you."
"Please, Seungcheol," you whimper, your voice dripping with desperation as you circle your clit, trying to milk him for all he's worth. "Cum for me, baby. I need to feel you come inside me."
Seungcheol's eyes squeeze shut tight, a curse slipping past his lips as he feels your pussy clenching around him harder, the sensation driving him to the brink of ecstasy.
"Cumming," he gasps, his voice a ragged whisper as he empties himself inside you, his body trembling with the intensity of his release.
As Seungcheol's hot cum fills your cunt, you can't help but moan in ecstasy at the sensation of his cock pushing the cum deeper and deeper inside you. The overwhelming pleasure sends waves of ecstasy crashing over you, driving you to the brink of another orgasm.
"Fuck," you mumble, already overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through you. "Keep fucking your cum inside me, Seungcheol. I need it. I need all of you."
Seungcheol's moan is almost pained as he buries his face in your neck, his body trembling with desire at your words. "God, yes," he groans, his voice thick with need.
Seungcheol watches with satisfaction as he withdraws his cock from your pussy, his gaze lingering on the sight of his cum dripping from your wet and messy cunt. A sense of pride washes over him as he takes in the fucked-out expression on your face, knowing that he's given you the release you so desperately needed after days of exhaustion.
Your relaxed demeanor is like a reward to him, a testament to his ability to bring you pleasure and satisfaction even in the midst of your busiest and most stressful times. He can't help but feel a surge of pride knowing that he's been able to fuck every last bit of tension out of you, leaving you looking and feeling more relaxed than you have in days.
"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with sincerity and adoration.
Seungcheol's eyes soften at your words, a tender smile spreading across his face as he reaches out to cup your cheek. "I love you too," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
#seventeen reactions#seventeen imagines#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen#seventeen fluff#seventeen smut#svt smut#svt imagines#seungcheol x reader#seungcheol smut#seungcheol#seungcheol fanfic#choi seungcheol#scoups smut#scoups imagines#scoups x y/n#scoups x reader#scoups x you#seungcheol x oc#seungcheol x you#seungcheol x y/n#seungcheol imagines#seungcheol scenarios#seungcheol fluff#seungcheol angst#scoups fanfic#scoups fluff
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𝜗𝜚 Calamitous Love.
Spencer Reid x BAU!reader
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Summary: After an accident, many memories are wiped from your mind. Luckily, your fiancé is always by your side...but were you planning to break off the engagement before the accident?
Words: 3,7k.
Warnings & Tags: fem!reader. mention of injuries, serial killers, memory loss, traffic accident. SO bittersweet. angst with open ending. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).
Note: I am just like Matthew and sometimes I love to traumatize Spencer, I’m sorry but I miss the one shots.
Spencer Reid was the perfect man. His bright brown eyes, warm and impossibly sincere, never lied. His thin lips had a special way of puckering when he thought too much, a telltale sign of his mind working through puzzles only he could solve. And his heart, the purest you had ever known, overflowed with kindness, empathy, and a love so profound it felt almost unreal. Spencer Reid was smart, brilliant beyond measure, with a mind that held an entire universe of knowledge. He could recite the most obscure facts with ease, analyze the most complex theories in seconds, and yet, the most precious thing about him was his willingness to learn how to love you the way you needed to be loved. He observed, listened, and adapted, making sure every touch, every word, and every glance was precisely what would make you feel cherished. Because Spencer Reid was everything anyone could wish to have, and yet, against all odds, you were the lucky one who had him.
You happily reminded yourself of that every single day as you looked down at your engagement ring, the one he had given you, a tangible reminder that he had chosen you just as wholeheartedly as you had chosen him, for a lifetime together.
When you thought of marriage to him, it wasn’t just about the idea of forever. It was the depth of what that forever would mean. You remembered the moment he knelt before you, hands trembling slightly, asking the question you’d only ever dreamed of hearing. You didn’t just picture him standing at the altar, waiting for you to approach in your beautiful dress. No, you thought about everything that would come after, how it would feel to swear to love each other through all of life’s trials, even beyond death. You imagined growing old by his side, sharing the quiet moments as the years went by, and how those ordinary moments would become extraordinary in his presence. You thought about starting a family, building a life together, and raising children in a home filled with the same love and devotion you had always dreamed of.
Together through thick and thin. That thought echoed in your mind, looping over and over as you slowly drifted back to consciousness. The first thing you registered was the dull ache spreading through your body, a heavy, lingering pain that made every breath feel just a little too sharp. The sterile scent of antiseptic flooded your senses, mixing with the faint, artificial coolness of the hospital air. The steady beeping of machines provided a rhythmic pulse to the silence. Blinking against the dim light, your gaze slowly adjusted to your surroundings. The faint glow of a monitor, the crisp white sheets draped over you, the IV taped to your arm. But none of it answered the one question that burned in your mind. What happened?
Then, your eyes found him.
Spencer.
He was curled up on the couch beside you, his head leaning against the backrest, his posture weighed down by exhaustion. His long limbs were awkwardly folded, his body hunched forward in a way that made it clear he hadn’t moved in hours. Dark circles bruised the delicate skin beneath his eyes, and yet, even in sleep, he remained tethered to you. His fingers barely grazed the edge of your gurney, as if even unconscious, he needed to be close. Needed to feel you were still there.
Your gaze drifted lower, catching the soft gleam of metal on his finger. The engagement ring. A silent promise. A future you had once envisioned so clearly. And without thinking, you glanced at your own hand, expecting the comforting weight of your matching ring. But all you found was the sterile chill of the IV line taped to your skin. Your heart stuttered. A small, uneasy pit settled in your stomach. Where is it?
You looked up just as Spencer stirred, his body shifting as he slowly blinked awake. A groggy hand dragged across his face, fingers rubbing at his tired eyes in an attempt to shake off the haze of sleep. And then, his gaze landed on you.
Relief hit him like a crashing wave. His posture snapped upright, exhaustion momentarily forgotten as his entire focus narrowed in on you. The sheer intensity of his expression sent warmth flooding through your chest, his eyes roamed your face as if memorizing every detail, as if needing to reassure himself that you were really okay.
“You’re awake,” he breathed, his voice rough from sleep, yet thick with emotion. His hand moved toward yours instinctively, but then he hesitated, hovering for just a moment, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, as if he feared you might pull away. But when you didn’t, his fingers brushed against your skin, hesitant yet desperate for contact. “How do you feel? Are you in pain? Should I get a nurse?”
Your lips parted to answer, but the words didn’t come immediately. Your throat was dry, and your mind was sluggish, struggling to pull itself together. The memories that flickered in your mind felt like fragments of a broken puzzle, pieces that were out of reach, not quite forming a whole picture. The last thing you could clearly recall felt distant, blurred at the edges like a forgotten dream, slipping through your fingers as you tried desperately to hold onto it.
You cleared your throat, your voice low, barely above a whisper. “What…happened? Why am I here?”
Your fiancé's expression shifted instantly, relief giving way to something heavier, something uncertain. His fingers curled slightly against your hand, his grip featherlight yet steady, as if afraid he might hurt you. He exhaled a slow, measured breath, gathering his thoughts before answering.
“You were in a car accident,” he said softly, his voice cracking slightly under the weight of the words, though he kept his gaze steady on you.
A car accident.
The words felt foreign, distant, like they belonged to someone else’s reality, not yours. Of all the ways you could have been hurt, this was the least likely, the least expected. Your life was a constant dance with danger, chasing monsters through dark alleyways, walking into crime scenes still heavy with the ghosts of violence, facing down men who thrived on fear. Those were the risks you understood, the dangers you had accepted long ago.
But this? This was ordinary. This was the kind of thing that happened to people who weren’t constantly looking over their shoulders, to people who weren’t trained to anticipate threats before they struck. You weren’t reckless. You weren’t careless. You didn’t lose control.
“You abandoned the way,” he continued softly, watching you closely. “They said you must’ve lost control, maybe got distracted…or something. Your car went off the road and crashed into a ditch.” His voice faltered, just slightly, as if saying the words out loud made them more real. It was as if almost for a moment, a trace of guilt had escaped in his tone.
A cold chill ran through you, a sense of vertigo pulling at your chest. You stared at him, eyes wide, trying to process, trying to understand. But your mind remained blank, an empty canvas where everything should have been. There were no fragments of memories of the accident. No flashes of panic or the sudden jolt of the car swerving out of control. No sensation of the crash itself, just a void, a sharp nothingness.
“I don’t remember,” you whispered, the words slipping out as you blinked, as though trying to will the memories back into place.
“That’s normal,” he said, his voice soothing, though there was an unmistakable trace of worry beneath it. “Memory loss can happen after a concussion. It might come back soon.”
A concussion. The dull ache in your skull suddenly made sense. You lifted your free hand instinctively, but he was quicker, catching your wrist before your fingers could brush against what you now realized was a bandage wrapped around your head.
“You hit your head pretty hard,” he said, his thumb absently tracing over your skin, as if grounding himself as much as grounding you. “But the doctors said you’re going to be okay. You just…need time.”
Time.
It should have been comforting. But all you could think about was the emptiness of your memory, the lost hours, the lost moment when everything must have gone wrong, and the exact reasons why. You didn't usually drive alone, you didn't like the silence of the car, and you took your fiancé with you wherever you went. However, he seemed unharmed and just tired. You felt very confused, pressured, and lost as you remembered the ring that was missing from your finger.
You swallowed hard, trying to push past the dizziness that seemed to rise with every thought, trying to steady your racing heart. Your voice came out steadier this time, though there was still a tremor in it. “Where’s my ring?”
Spencer blinked at you, clearly taken off guard by the question. “What ring?” he asked, his brows furrowing, confusion flickering in his eyes.
“The most important ring in the world, love,” you whispered. “My engagement ring.”
The silence that followed seemed eternal, the tension palpable, thick in the air between the two of you. Spencer's eyes widened when he realized what you were speaking, and his breath caught. He blinked, as if trying to understand why the absence of the ring you'd taken off yourself had bothered you so much, why you'd called him “love” after two months of not doing so, why his touch suddenly didn't seem to bother you. Something wasn’t right, and it was all too clear to him now. Something was wrong with you.
The realization hit him like a bolt, but before he could say anything, you broke the moment, the tension too much to bear. “This sucks,” you muttered, your voice quieter now but tinged with frustration. “My head hurts.”
The sudden shift in your tone startled him, pulling him back to the present. His concern resurfaced, his gaze softening as he quickly leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “How much? On a scale of one to ten?” he asked, his voice anxious, the worry evident in his eyes.
You squeezed your eyes shut, the pressure in your skull making everything feel worse, as if you could feel your brain pulsing in rhythm with the pain. Your fingers tightened around his hand. “Eleven,” you muttered, trying to force the words out with a breathless chuckle. The ridiculousness of it wasn’t lost on you, but you didn’t care. The truth was that it hurt, and you needed something else. Anything to make the ache go away.
His expression darkened with concern, and you saw his muscles tense as though he were already preparing to leave and find a nurse, a doctor, anyone who could help you. But before he could move, you caught his hand in yours, your fingers curling around his. “No,” you said softly, shaking your head. “Don’t call a doctor.”
He hesitated for a moment, still unsure of what to do, but his eyes never left you, his worry so palpable that you could practically feel it like a weight pressing down on both of you. “Then what do you need?” he asked gently, his voice soft, almost pleading. His thumb brushed lightly across your knuckles as if trying to comfort you, as if trying to bring you back to something you could hold onto.
You didn’t answer him right away. Instead, you let out a shaky breath, still feeling the tension in your body, the unease that gripped you. Your fingers slid to the side of his face, the touch so light it almost felt like a dream, and you tilted your head to meet his gaze.
“Give me love,” you whispered, the words escaping your lips with a sudden tenderness, an unexpected vulnerability. You needed him. Not just in the way your body craved the relief of his touch, but in the deeper, more desperate way that your soul was aching for connection, for his warmth.
Spencer blinked, his breath catching as he looked at you, clearly surprised by your request. He took a small, confused step back, his brows furrowing in bewilderment. “What?”
“Kiss me, fool,” you murmured, your voice lower now, almost teasing, trying to make light of the moment even though everything inside you felt like it was unraveling. You could see the hesitation in his eyes, the way he was torn between the confusion that had settled in his mind and the longing in his chest.
The way you’d spoken to him, the way you’d touched him, it was all too much. Yet too little, too fragile, and too desperate at once.
“You…you want me to kiss you?” His voice was quiet, still unsure. But you could see the faintest shimmer of hope in his eyes, a flicker of something that made him believe, just for a second, that maybe things weren’t as broken as they seemed. That maybe you were still you, still his, still something real, even if everything else had changed.
“Don’t tell me my face looked that bad after the accident,” you teased, your voice weak but laced with a dry humor you hoped might ease the tension hanging between you both.
“No…you’re perfect, pretty as always.”
You tilted your head slightly, still feeling the remnants of confusion and loneliness swirling in the space between you both. “You said that because you love me,” you murmured, a small smile playing at the corner of your lips, but it was tinged with a vulnerability you could no longer hide. “Now I want a mirror.”
“A mirror?” He repeated, his voice soft but curious, unsure of where this was leading. He glanced around the room as if expecting a mirror to appear out of nowhere, but the expression on your face made it clear that wasn’t the answer you were seeking. His eyes turned back to you, searching for more understanding.
“Or a kiss,” you added quietly, the weight of the words making your chest tighten. “Hug, touch? I need physical affection.”
Spencer’s breath caught again. His fingers twitched slightly as if wanting to reach out, but still, something held him back. Something about the rawness of your request, the way you were looking at him with that strange mixture of vulnerability and need, made him pause. The last few months, the distance, the silence, the space, it all came rushing back, threatening to collapse in on him, on both of you. He didn’t know how to bridge the gap, but here you were, asking for something he hadn’t dared hope for, something real, something close.
You needed him.
His eyes softened, and for a brief, fleeting moment, the world outside of the hospital room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you. His heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid, everything that had been left unspoken for too long. “You…you need physical affection?” he whispered, almost as if testing the words on his own tongue, seeing how they felt.
Reid swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he processed your words. His mind was spinning, struggling to reconcile the warmth in your voice, the softness in your gaze, with the cold, distant reality he had been living in for the past two months. The reality where your hands no longer reached for his, where your voice had lost that teasing lilt whenever you spoke to him, where you had looked at him with something closer to exhaustion than love. But now, now, you were here, in front of him, looking at him like this, touching him like this, speaking to him like this. And he didn’t know what to do with it.
His fingers twitched against yours, but he didn’t pull away. He couldn’t. Not when you were looking at him with that quiet plea in your eyes, not when your touch was so familiar, achingly so.
“You need physical affection?” He repeated it, almost as if saying it aloud would help him believe it. “From me?”
A small frown creased your forehead, as if the question itself was absurd. “Of course, from you,” you murmured, your thumb tracing the back of his hand in a slow, lingering movement. “Who else would I want it from, if not my future husband?”
Spencer’s mouth opened as if to speak, then faltered, the words caught somewhere in the space between his thoughts and reality. For a brief moment, everything clicked. It all made sense now.
You didn’t remember more than the accident.
You didn’t remember the nights you had spent on opposite ends of the apartment, the silences that stretched longer than either of you could fill. You didn’t remember the fights that had grown from whispered frustrations into full-blown arguments, the sharp words that had cut deeper than either of you had intended. You didn’t remember the moment you had taken off your engagement ring, the way you had placed it on the counter with trembling fingers, saying, I don’t know if this is working anymore, Spence. You didn’t remember that you had been on the verge of leaving him.
And yet now, here you were, lying in a hospital bed, looking up at him with those same eyes that once held every piece of his heart, asking for him. Asking for his love, his touch, his kiss, as if none of it had ever been broken. As if nothing had changed.
His chest ached.
He should tell you. He should tell you the truth. He should remind you of the distance that had grown between you, the hurt that had seeped into every corner of what you once were. He should remind you that you had been slipping through his fingers for two months now, that this moment, this closeness, was something neither of you had shared in what felt like forever.
But God, how could he? How could he break this? How could he take away the way you were looking at him, touching him, and loving him when it was the only thing he had wanted for so long?
You smiled softly, a small, teasing glint in your eyes, the same expression he had missed more than he could admit. “I don’t need another doctor,” you said, your voice light but filled with need. “I just need my doctor Reid. I need you now.”
His breath caught.
God, how many nights had he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, wishing to hear those words again? How many times had he replayed every conversation, every argument, trying to pinpoint the exact moment everything had started slipping through his fingers? How many times had he wished you’d look at him like this again, like he was your home?
“Do you…” He hesitated, then swallowed. “Do you remember the last thing we talked about? Before the accident?”
You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the question. “No, I—” You paused, thinking. Then, after a moment, you laughed, rolling your eyes. “Probably something dumb, like what we should have for dinner.”
You didn’t remember. You didn’t remember the raw, biting argument that had escalated, the way words that were meant to heal had instead poisoned the air between you. The cutting words you had both thrown at each other, the ones that lingered long after you had left the apartment, your heart pounding with regret and pain. You didn’t remember that you had almost walked away for good.
But now? Right now, you were looking at him like he was still your safe place. Like he was still yours.
“I…” He inhaled sharply, trying to steady himself, the words lodged in his throat like shards of glass. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured, his voice breaking with the weight of his own uncertainty.
“You’re not hurting me.” You let out a small, breathy chuckle, squeezing his hand. “The only thing hurting me right now is this damn headache.”
Spencer exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment. This was dangerous. This was reckless. He knew that. But when he opened his eyes again and saw you, saw the way you were still waiting, still trusting, still his, something in him cracked.
Slowly, hesitantly, his free hand lifted, fingertips grazing the side of your face. You leaned into his touch instantly, and he felt his heart stutter, his breath catching in his throat.
God.
How could he let go of this?
His grip on your face tightened slightly, barely noticeable, but you still felt it. Your expression softened, your thumb grazing over his knuckles, grounding him. “Spence?”
He inhaled sharply, trying to push back the lump in his throat. He should tell you. He needed to tell you. But the words wouldn’t come. Because right now, in this moment, you were still his. You were looking at him like he was your everything. Like you wanted him.
And selfishly, pathetically, he wanted to hold onto that. Just for a little longer.
So instead of answering your question, instead of pulling away like he probably should have, he did the one thing he knew he shouldn’t do.
He gave in.
He leaned forward, his movements slow, hesitant, his fingers tightening around yours. His free hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek, as if memorizing the warmth of your skin. And when your lips parted slightly, your breath mixing with his, he closed the space between you and kissed you.
Soft. Tentative.
A kiss that held every unsaid word, every unshed tear, every moment he thought he had lost you for good. It wasn’t hurried or desperate. It was slow, tentative, almost like he was afraid you would pull away, that you would remember everything you had wanted to forget. But you didn’t. You melted into him, sighing against his lips, your fingers curling around the fabric of his sleeve, holding him close.
For the first time in months, Spencer Reid didn’t feel like he was losing you. For the first time in months, he allowed himself to believe, just for a fleeting moment, that maybe he hadn’t lost you at all.
#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid angst#matthew gray gubler
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Utah Law- Adrian Chase x fem!Reader
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It some states such as Utah it is illegal to have premarital sex. You scoff at the idea but your boyfriend is very strict when it comes to following the law so he refuses to budge even when you try tempting him.
Notes: NSFW, MDNI, this was written before I found out that formication laws were outlawed in Utah in 2019.
This was also based on my Adrian Chase NSFW Alphabet post and a few conversations with @hieronymph to whom this was written for🖤
Includes: Semi-public sex, dry humping, switch! Adrian, pussy eating, spanking, loud sex, face sitting. Mentions of absurd state laws, murder, and violence.
Comments, reblogs, and likes are appreciated!
“What crawled up your ass and died?” Adebayo asked with a raised brow when you threw your luggage into the van with just a little too much force and a scowl. Chris laughed.
“She’s mad because she didn’t get any last night.” He said with glee.
“Seriously?” Harcourt said, raising a brow from behind the driver’s seat.
“I thought it was tradition for the two of you to ‘break in’ every motel room you sleep in.” Adebayo questioned while making… some sort of gesture with her hands.
“It is tradition, thank you for remembering that Adebayo.” You turned to face Adrian. “Do you want to tell them why we didn’t honor tradition last night?”
Adrian sighed and pouted. “Pre-martial sex is against the law in Utah.”
“You’re kidding.” Economos deadpanned.
You were well aware of Adrian’s rather… strict way of looking at the law. He will kill anyone he finds breaking the law, hypocrisy aside. This ranges from murderers to vandals. As your little group went across the country to find butterflies, you came to find out his knowledge of the law not only included federal laws but also state laws. Including the obscure ones.
For example, while the two of you chased a possible witness in Portland, Adrian had come to a complete stop before you could enter the cemetery. He left you to chase the witness alone so he could run around the property. You chewed him out afterwards and his only defense was that in Oregon it’s a misdemeanor to bring weapons or go hunting in a cemetery. He gestured to the multiple guns and knives on his body.
“All I’m saying is, it’s better to keep a low radar and avoid breaking the law.” Adrian said with his hands up in defense when the group confronted him later. “And we can’t pick and choose which laws to follow. Otherwise we’d be no better than the bad guys.”
“Low radar?” You scoffed. “You’re dressed in a teal super suit! People are gonna know something is up! And I’m not sure if you remember this, but murder is also illegal!”
“Thank you for remembering it’s teal,” Adrian beamed at you and well, you couldn’t be mad at that face any longer. The point was, you knew Adrian took the law seriously even to the team’s detriment. Even to your detriment. Like now.
“He’s not kidding.” You crossed your arms.
“Babe, I offered loopholes like eating out your-“
“Okay!” Harcourt interrupted and started the van. “I do not want to listen to this. Economos, brief us.”
Everyone’s attention turned to Economos, except for you and Adrian. You pretended tie your shoe laces and bent over, which gave Adrian a peak of your teal lace bra under your baggy, low cut top. His whimper was enough confirmation from you that he did. You tried to hide your smirk as you listened to Economos. You knew it was enough to have Adrian eating out of the palm of your hand in no time.
The following evening, after a day of ‘innocent’ flashing Adrian- as well as ‘accidentally’ sending him a picture of you in the bra- Adrian wrapped his arms behind you and pressed a kiss to your neck.
“Please forgive me,” He begged into your ear. “I know you’re wearing matching teal panties with that bra. You know that’s my weakness.”
You glanced around the van and saw that besides Economos who was driving, everyone else was asleep. You glanced over at the GPS and saw that the team was about two miles from the Wyoming border. You never thought you would be so happy to see a ‘Welcome to Wyoming’ sign.
“I’ll forgive you in two miles,” You said and faced him. “But I can think of something to do while we wait.”
You began kissing Adrian, letting your fingers tangle between his brown locks. He gripped your waist and pulled you onto his lap. This continued until the GPS announced that the team had entered Wyoming. And while you enjoyed his kisses, you did wonder why Adrian made no move to fuck you.
“Come on,” You begged in between kisses. “When are you gonna fuck me?”
“Shhhh…Hold on,” Adrian shushed you before you could get too excited. You couldn’t wait to kiss that smirk off him. “Public sex is still illegal in Wyoming.”
He was fucking with you. Truly he was. “That’s never been an issue with you before!” You protested, recalling the many, many times the two of you fucked in much more public places, including the the woods and a bar alley.
“It wasn’t until you kept flashing me that bra of yours,” He said in a deep voice. “But if you’re so desperate, climb on sweetheart.” He shook his head and patted his denim covered thigh. “Because I’m not fucking you until we get to the motel. All you get right now is my thigh.”
You glared at him as you straddled his muscular thigh but you had to admit, this was turning you on a bit. Your teal panties were absolutely soaking right now. You started to grind on his thigh and your eyes fluttered to finally have some relief. You made a good choice choosing lace panties with a seam line that rubbed just right on your clit as you humped his leg.
“Shhh… slow down baby girl,” Adrian cooed as his hands slowed to your hips. “Slower… I said slower, baby girl. I’ve been looking forward to this all day, I don’t want you to wear yourself out before we get to our room.”
“Good girl,” He smiled as you were at a pace he was finally pleased with. He grabbed onto your waist a little tighter so he could control your movements. “You look so fucking pretty riding my leg like this.”
You pulled Adrian in for another kiss, this one sloppier and more reckless than the last. His mouth tasted like the maraschino cherries he stole from your milkshake. You wanted more of it. His hand grabs your ass to press against you and push himself deeper into your mouth. Adrian let out soft moans as you deepened the kiss. His other hand moves up your torso to grab you by the jaw and breaks the kiss so his mouth can move down your neck.
“Please baby, I want you,” You begged. “
Then Economos slams on the breaks and you fall off Adrian’s lap.
“We are at the motel,” He says, covering his eyes and to be honest, you kinda forgot he was driving. “I will go in and get us rooms. You two get first pick because I cannot clean the van again.”
The two of you run to your room, not even bothering to grab your bags from the van and Adrian presses you against the door, his mouth back on yours.
“I need you,” He says, pulling off your shirt and does not hesitate to kiss the skin around your teal bra.
“I love this bra so much.” He says between kisses. “You look so hot in teal… you look hot in all colors… but teal… teal takes the cake”
“And speaking of cake…I need to see those panties,” He said shamelessly. He moves his way downwards and had he not been holding you upright, you would’ve fell from the force he ripped your pants off. He kissed you through the lace of your panties and growled.
“You’re so fucking wet,” He panted as he hastily pulled it down. “I’m so sorry for leaving you like this for so long. Wait, actually I need more.”
Adrian shot up and pulled you to the bed, you kicked the pants off hastily as you tried not to trip, and he threw you down. He jumped on the bed, landing on his back.
“Ride my face,” He said quickly, pulling you on top of him. You threw your bra to the side, letting your breasts free. “I don’t want anything but you. Sit on my face now.”
You obeyed and Adrian wasted no time lapping up your pussy. His fingers dug into your thighs, pulling you closer so your tongue could go deeper. You could feel the vibrations of his voice against your clit but you couldn’t make out what he said. Not that you cared when his tongue was doing that thing to your clit.
“Fuck! Adrian!” You screamed and you fell forward, your hands landing on his abs so you could grind your hips even harder against his mouth. Adrian began to suck on your clit more aggressively, rolling and curling his tongue all the while. You called out his name again as your hands fisted the sheets. Adrian smacked your ass, causing your body to jolt a bit further into his mouth, which he used as an opportunity to slip his tongue inside you.
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Too much… fuck please, I’m getting… I’m getting closer! Fuck me! I’m getting closer! Oh fuck… Adrian… please…” Your stomach was tightening with every thrust of his tongue and every slap on your ass.
Adrian slid his tongue out of you and licked your clit, using his saliva to get it nice and wet so his fingers could take over. “Cum for me babygirl, cum on my tongue.” He said and that was enough to push you over the edge. You screamed his name as he sent you to completion.
You fell over to his side as you shook and Adrian sat up with a self-satisfied smile on his wet and puffy lips. “You’re so fucking gorgeous babe.”
Adrian kicked off his pants and pulled you to the edge of the bed by your legs. He started rubbing his cock against you, smearing his precum on your skin, as he waited for you to stop shaking. “Such a good girl baby, you didn’t even need my cock to cum.”
“No please,” You begged, your brain still a little fuzzy for him. “I need that too.”
“You’re pretty when you’re begging for my cock babe.” Adrian chuckled and leaned forward to kiss you, his hand on your jaw as he slowly slid into your sex. You mouth opened in a gasp and he slid his tongue in.
Adrian gives you shallow thrusts as he kissed you but once you signal you’ve adjusted to him, he gives you one last kiss and pulls away to start pounding away at you. Your back arched as you took more of him.
“Does it feel good baby?” Adrian asked and you nodded as he slid his fingers between your lips. “Good girl, get them nice and wet for me.”
He slid them out of your mouth and dragged them down your torso and to your clit. “We can never go to Utah again baby,” The fingers you covered with your saliva began playing with your clit. You arched your back and moaned loudly. “I can’t go another day without seeing you like this.”
You sat up and wrapped your arms around his neck. Adrian smiled and picked you up. He loved showing off how strong he was for you. He bounced you on his cock and began kissing your neck. You moaned his name again and a small part of your mind wondered if you were going to get a noise complaint the next morning. The thought was quickly forgotten when Adrian pushed you into a wall as he carried you. You pulled his hair to sloppily kiss him again and your fingers tangled in your hair as he fucked you.
Still sensitive from your last orgasm, it was taking very little time to build up to your second. Especially when this new position gave Adrian a new angle to fuck you in entirely. He could feel you tightening around him so he nodded and moaned between kisses.
You came with a scream, your body tightening as pleasure washed over every nerve. Adrian didn't last long after that either and you felt his cock twitch before filling you with his cum. You moaned as you felt it wash over you and pulled him in for another kiss.
Adrian carried you to the bed and laid you down, curling next to you.
“Are you tired already baby?’ Adrian tilted his head as he crawled over your prone body. “We need to make up for not having sex at the last motel.”
“Well if you insist baby,” You smile at him.
The following morning, Chris slams his bags a little too hard into the van.
“What’s wrong now?” Adebayo asked as she blew her extra sugary coffee.
“Those two-” He said with disgust dripping with every word and pointed at you and Adrian wrapped up around each other, energized and in love. “Were celebrating being in Wyoming all night.”
#adrian chase x reader#adrian chase imagine#adrian chase smut#adrian chase x you#adrian chase fic#adrian chase x y/n#adrian chase x female reader#adrian chase fanfiction#peacemaker#adrian chase#peacemaker fanfiction#vigilante imagine#vigilante x reader#vigilante x you#vigilante fanfiction#peacemaker fanfic#peacemaker fic#smut#fanfic#mine#my writing
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𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐄𝐅 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐒
Black Noir II x female!reader
⎨ 𝐀𝐍 ⎬ spent way too long on this; but I kept picturing him in the piledriver position and omfgggg. also I drank so sorry if the ending sounds strange, this isn’t beta-read at all lol
⎨ 𝐂𝐖⎬ 2.9k words , second person point of view , noir II , s4 spoilers , smut : fantasies of sex , oral ( m receiving ) , p in v , piledriver position , mentioned size difference , stomach bulge , cream pie , aftercare .
A few heavy breaths came from behind the mask, his lips outlined by the black balaclava he wore. A few punches here, dodging and rolling there; just like a real hero would. Did he mind the sweat that rolled down his top lip? Tasting the salt from his overexertion?
His gloved hands reached out, one grabbing the wrists that fought against him to pin them, the other grabbing at the exposed neck as he pinned the black clad body against the glass jewelry container.
“Get off me-! Motherfucker!”
Kicking and shouting wasn’t the best tactic now was it? Not when you were attempting to rob the jewelry store. It was so cliche, a cat burglar going after overpriced diamonds and gems. You’d think the stars themselves had been crafted into the finest necklaces by the way you had been shoving them into your bag.
How were you to know he was on patrol when you happened into the closed jewelers? Maybe it was fate, past misdeeds finally catching up to you in the form of this armored reaper. It certainly felt like a dance with death, the knowledge of his super strength in the back of your mind as you managed to wiggle out of the hold he had on you.
Slipping down against the cracked glass case and through the room left to crawl out from under his legs in a last ditch effort to escape. You were graceful, smooth like a cat slinking away with the pickings it had gotten from a dead bird. But his hands caught your legs like a mouse in a trap and your heart dropped in your chest.
A gloved hand grabbed at your hair, pulling you up enough to get you on your knees in front of him, craning your neck to look at his soulless mask as a peasant would look at a god; and maybe in a way you were, was this being that could kill you in a second really a man anymore? What power did a worldly being have in snuffing out a life so fast?
So you sat at his mercy, begging for forgiveness and looking like a sinner at an altar. How small you looked below him, what penance did a lowly criminal like you get? So you waited for the hand that would tear your heart out or the sirens that would wail… but nothing. He simply looked blankly down at you.
“Fucking-… Cut!!” The bell sounded somewhere in the studio, sighs falling from the directing team under the knowledge that this was the best shot they were going to get, and the ‘mute supe’ had forgotten his next line. One job, really.
“Damn it, I’m sorry. You did great, though.” His hand his outstretched for you to take, helping you get to your feet. He’s kind, behind the mask he wore, would you ever get to see his face? Probably not, being just an actor; but it was cool being able to work with a Supe, especially one in the seven.
“It’s no problem, honestly. They’ll probably just go from the shot of me on my knees, anyways.” You watched as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, gloved hands creating an odd sound against his balaclava. His job was on the line; Homelander had told him they could always find a replacement for Noir just as they had with him - but he couldn’t help it.
Had his cup always been so strained against? He shifted ever so slightly, trying not to make his discomfort obvious as an assistant stepped over and handed you both a water bottle. Silently, he was happy his face was obscured as his eyes didn’t leave your lips, watching them part to welcome a swig of much needed cold water.
Was it his fault he had stuttered and broken the immersion? In his heart, he knew it was; but how could he not have? He could feel your warmth radiating through his armor and seep into his skin, how those pretty eyes looked back and then up at him, how your lips had parted ever so slightly. He was being an idiot.
This was your job; you’re an actress so why did he think those looks you gave him were exclusive? He was probably an idiot in thinking your on screen chemistry could mingle behind the scenes. He jumped every so slightly when the bell rang out again.
“That’s a wrap for now. We’ll pick up again tomorrow. Noir, make sure you fucking practice.”
A pointed look from the director was quickly overshadowed by your soft touch to one of his shoulder pads as you walked past him. A shiver running down his spine as his eyes followed you, watching you. Your delicate fingers had not done him any favors as his heart pounded in his chest. Secretly, he was glad shooting was done for the day.
The door to his trailer shut quickly, the lock turning as he leaned back against it. The curtains had already been drawn shut from this morning; is it in Noirs character to like his privacy? It certainly isn’t to sprawl out on the couch and fist his cock to thoughts of his co-star. And yet.
His head tilted back against the couch, helmet taken off but the balaclava had stayed on; he enjoyed the way it made everything a little harder to breathe, how he could feel the fabric against his lips. Besides; he wouldn’t take off his mask to fuck you the first couple of times, anyways, that’s a kind of trust that’s earned.
His hand traveled up and down his cock, slow at first as he traced the veins that pump blood to his darkening head; imagining that this is what it would be like with you the first time. Certainly, you’d take your time in getting to know every intimate part of him. His thumb swiped over his tip like your tongue would.
A groan fell from his lips, wetting them after a moment. He could imagine how warm your mouth would be around him, how you would look up at him as he pushed the head of his cock to the back of your mouth, how your hot breath would feel coming out of your nose against his groin.
He felt himself throb against his hand, desperately needing a release when there was a knock on the door, shaking him out of his private moment. How unlucky he was, thinking he had more time than he actually did. Noir grumbled as he fixed his cup back over himself, his dick uncomfortably straining against the cool metal.
He fixed his helmet over himself and stepped over to the door, ready to snap at whoever was interrupting him like a supe should do. He should be allowed to have a power trip every once in a while; should he? A god against a mortal.
“Hey! Sorry I hope I’m not bothering you, I was just wondering if you wanted to practice? I got a bit of free time.” How could he yell at you when you looked so pretty standing on the steps to his trailer? Head tilted to the side, rubbing the back of your neck.
“Oh uh.” Part of him wanted to say no, to shut the door and hide himself away against his silk sheets and pump his hand over his aching cock, but he couldn’t shut you out. Not when you were the object of his fantasies. “Yeah, sure. We don’t need a lot of space, we can practice in here.”
Noir nodded, moving out of the way to allow you to enter his abode, to get a glimpse of what little the man below the mask could add to a trailer belonging to a dead man. Not that you knew, of course; finding it strange that he could talk but not prying further. It wasn’t your place to ask silly questions like that.
Still, you took in what you could. A picture frame with people you couldn’t quite make out from a distance, a few books and magazines he hadn’t bothered to clean up. The kitchen was tidy, though everything had a black color scheme and it felt a little… draining. Was that really all there was to him?
You snapped out of your thoughts at the sound of him moving the table out of the way to allow more space to practice your scenes together. He bunched up the carpet, just kind of tossing it against the couch before he looked over at you. A soulless mask, but the way he tapped his fingers against his armor was endearing.
“So- do you want to go from the fight?”
“Yeah, that sounds good.”
God against man, a mortal who had incurred the wrath of a far more powerful deity; you find yourself on your knees once again. No cameras stuck close to your face this time, no lights to make you sweat, just you and the being who could crush your windpipe below his gloved fingers.
The fabric against his hands is audible as it squeezes a bit, your own moving up to grasp onto his wrist; silent pleas for your pathetic life falling from your lips. This is where he messed up before, the sight of you below him being too much to handle. His cock throbbed uncomfortably against his cup.
“You have to handcuff me now.” You look up at him, a different kind of gaze from being terrified for your life. You’re a good actor, he’ll give you that, but he prefers this moment - how you look vaguely confused as to how he could mess up a second time. His dick hurts now, he can feel pre-cum leaking against his armor and god does he need a release.
“Can I fuck you?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been… thinking about you. I like you like this.”
“Oh.”
You’re quiet for a moment and he fears he’s blown his shot with you. His hand still rests against your neck albeit loosely, and your eyes travel from his crotch up to his mask, obscuring any kind of expression you might be able to make out. Is he messing with you? Why would someone as strong as him decide you’re the one he wants?
“Okay, yeah. Yeah I’d like that.”
A nod is just what he needs, his hand leaving your neck and moving to tangle into your hair, firmly placed on the back of your head while the other moves to quickly undo his crotch armor and throw it somewhere on the couch.
He leaks pre-cum from his weeping slit, far too dark of a color to be comfortable for him. The groan that falls from his lips as you move to place yours against his head is almost heavenly. Like you’re a godsend, the only one who can make him feel like this. His gloved fingers tighten in your hair, an encouragement.
Noir is proved right in his theory of you; that your tongue dances over his head and flattens against his slit, your pretty eyes flutter shut and your hand rubbing the base of his cock. You must think he’s a poor baby the way you hum as you squeeze him slightly, hard and dripping against your tastebuds.
He reaches a hand against the back of the couch you two were beside, gripping it till his knuckles ached below his gloves. He’s swift in his movements, calculated and for the first time he feels closer to the old Noir. Would this be how he would act? Grabbing ahold of a woman like this - like you’re something to be manhandled? He’s usually shy, anxious when with women but you don’t seem to mind so he doesn’t lighten his grip.
Pushing you back against the ground, head resting on the discarded carpet like some sort of pillow below you. You’re an actress; doing your own stunts against him so he’s seen the way your body curves and flexes. He knows you can handle him, even if it takes a few tears.
He grabs your hips harder, shimming sweatpants you had changed into earlier, running his fingers over the growing wet spot in your underwear before he too removed them like they were a barrier to something most precious. His lips press against your thighs through his balaclava, breath hot and fast in anticipation for what is to come.
The angle is awkward and strenuous, but he seems to take great joy in seeing you like this. Not quite missionary, your body is arched below him and your silently grateful for the makeshift pillow because you’re sure your neck would be even more sore tomorrow had it not been for the carpet bunched up. Your legs are pushed back as he moves around you, hand gripping his cock to line up.
Noir inches himself in, letting you take deep, shallow breaths in your position as he tries his best to stay patient and not bottom out. The stretch hurts a bit; you can’t remember the last time you’ve been with a supe in such an intimate display and he’s thicker than most you’ve been with.
His breath his hard and hot against his balaclava; hands resting to keep both your legs out as he finally bottoms out inside of you. You can hear the groan that leaves his lips at the feeling of your walls constricting against him - in such a position they pulse and push around his still aching cock. Your warmth is welcome to him, driving him crazy.
His thrusts are as rough as he is with you on the set; barely giving you time to catch your breath between pumps as the air leaving and entering your lungs is sharp and almost painful. Wanton moans fall from your lips, hands reaching to grasp the underside of the couch in order to keep from moving below him.
“Fuck- Noir…”
“Is that good? You’re such a good girl, staying in this position f’me.”
You barely have the strength to respond, neurons firing in your brain in an attempt to string together words but all that comes out is a few unintelligible babbles. He pushes impossibly deep inside of you; he had reached a certain bundle of nerves quite a few thrusts ago, now he was abusing that spot. It seemed he was trying to get these reactions out of you.
Tilting his head back slightly, he groaned as you tightened around him; one hand falling from your legs to press against your stomach. He took pride in feeling himself inside of you - a large ego boost that his cock was thick enough to create a faint outline inside you. He would certainly have to fuck you more after this, see what other angles could excentuate that bulge in your pretty flesh.
“Gonna-“ Your gasp is harsh, though you don’t need to speak; he can feel it. The way your walls spasm around him as he pulls out and pushes back inside of you. He draws it out, slowing down a bit and cocking his head to the side - blacked out mask taunting you in your state.
“What? Are you gonna cum?”
A nod, breathless ‘yes’s falling from your lips as your hand not grasping the couch for dear life reaches up to grab onto his armor. Tears prick at your eyes, proof of how good he was making you feel. Your head lulls back against the carpet; white toying at the corners of your eyes.
Bliss washed over you quite quickly after that, gushing around him. He can’t help but chuckle at the sight, though it’s marred with a soft moan at how you squeeze. His hips continue to move, stuttering and the trailer fills with the unmistakable sound of sex. Wet, sloppy now as he nears his own climax.
Another thrust, then another before he buries himself to the hilt inside of you and spills his seed against your walls. He could die at the feeling of you milking him, drawing spurt after spurt of hot cum from his throbbing cock. He feels lucky, in his euphoria, that he could have this experience. A god with a mortal, how funny it was.
He pants as he withdraws himself, letting your legs lay back down as he colapses beside you. Head spinning, body aching from the position and the ceiling of his trailer suddenly looks as beautiful as the starry night outside. You two share the air, share your breathing and as you lay there for a moment longer; you can feel him get up.
He’s as silent as a ninja, but you know his presence is no longer beside you and honestly? After the position you had just kept? You were far too tired to move to see where he happened to go. Besides, the sound of the faucet running is enough of an indicator that he’s just moved the kitchen.
He returns after a moment, crouching in front of you as you finally move your head to look at him. He hasn’t taken his top helmet off; not allowing you a peek at the face he was hiding behind the balaclava, but the gentle kisses he places to your trembling legs are more than enough to take your mind off whatever he might look like.
“ ‘m surprised you don’t wanna watch your cum drip out of me.” You earn a chuckle from him as he moves the now wet and soapy washcloth he had gotten in the kitchen over your thighs and, gently, over your sensitive core. Cleaning you up as gentlemanly as possible.
“I’d rather see you tangled in my bed sheets, if we're being honest.”
“Sounds nice - even though I should be heading home after this. Guess you’ll have to fuck me again to be able to see that.”
“I was planning on fucking you again regardless.”
#black noir#black noir x you#black noir x reader#the boys season 4#the boys#smut#x reader#black noir x female reader#female reader
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I LIKE IT BETTER WHEN YOU CAN'T KEEP WARM | ODXNY
✮ tags ; heavy themes, gender neutral reader, mentions of past suicidal ideation, getting together, romantic tension, angst to fluff, extremely lovey-dovey ending, some implicit and suggestive content (lit one paragraph n non descript), themes of touch starvation, small height difference (reader is shorter)
✮ wc ; 6.3k (this is so shameful bye forever)
✮ a/n ; every time a semester ends i lose my mind and me writing this in several hours straight is evidence. if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a character study with the central theme of loneliness, i'd have two nickels - which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.
i will spare you the insane rambling for the authors note at the bottom of this fic.
✮ synopsis ; he wants something. to live maybe. and if he could be a little selfish, to be with you. he wants that, too.
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Bright.
Could just be the dark room he keeps himself in talking. His computer system and encrypted Internet browsers are all in dark mode - and his desktop set-up doesn’t have any L.E.D. strip lights to keep him company. He prefers it that way, the ambiance a better environment to work in when he’s doing his usual rounds. Down to the programs U.I. - Odxny spends most of his time in perpetual darkness. Cozy and familiar - totally safe and secure. Nothing but the low whirrs of a computers fan and the faint blinking of routers to keep him company.
You’re the brightest thing he’s had on his screen in a long time. You’ve got white walls and no precaution, really. You’re sitting at your own desktop - and he can see everything of your life in the background of where you sit. There are photos of you graduating high school, being around unnamed friends, vacations and trips, and head shots like the kind you take for a resume. It’s all so personal. Bookshelves, trinkets, poorly made clay sculptures. Posters of musicians you like and Studio Ghibli movies. Evidence of life surrounds you like a halo.
Awful. Angel comparisons to someone he’s only known for a day make him wonder if he’s more pathetic than he thought. He probably shouldn’t think so hard about a stranger, a real stranger. Thrim generated randomly, though he thinks it sounds like a name. Finds it fun to say, for better or worse.
Natural light pours in from a window nearby, casting shadows in your room. He already knows you, in a way. He did the background search. Where you were born, raised, grew up. The schools you went too, the career you seek. Bits and pieces of you are all scattered in his memory and are not at all thorough. He wasn’t really trying for that at the time, just needed to know if you were dangerous. There’s a cognitive dissonance. To know a life so thoroughly and to witness it is completely, and utterly different.
There’s miles between you. Must be thousands. He can’t remember the last time he’s really met someone, though. It’s hard not to notice that this feels akin to that. Like the embers of a campfire, glowing but not burning. A comfortable warmth.
Bright. His screen is very bright talking to you. Even obscured behind the mask, it’s a little difficult to look at it and leaves him on edge - restless and mildly painful.
When his vision adjusts though, there’s clarity. A person, a stranger - with an exceptionally nice laugh and who is exceptionally trusting. Odxny tries not to think too hard about the feeling of warmth that flutters at your overflowing sincerity.
The conversation is easy.
“Does that mean you trust me now?”
Odxny pretends to think on it. “Enough to keep you around.”
“See you later.”
“See you.”
You accompany your last words with a wave - short and sweet. Darkness pulls him in, back where he started. He has a mild headache from all the light.
__
You pick up on the language better than he thought you would.
He underestimated you. Can you blame him? Your choice is language is ArnoldC, for fucksake. Sure, he has limited knowledge on esoteric languages but can it really be in-depth enough to show you the basics.
(It can. Or at least, Od presumes this to be the case because you’re rather helpful in Incri’s hacks and Incri is hardly helpful to anyone in the world, no less the server.)
You pick up on things quickly with little guidance - always to the point and not usually making many errors. He has to commend your abilities and give you credit where it’s due. It’s not a hard language to learn, but for anyone with no familiarity with coding at all he’d expect there to be a learning curve. Even if you had coding language, it’s not like you knew SQL coming in.
You fit strangely well into the server somehow. You’re happy to learn and nonplussed about helping with small things, though you don’t know these people at all and have no reason to participate in their nonsense. You talk to Incri fine, and manage to get Pep to accidentally reveal telling information. Odxny finds all of this rather… entertaining maybe. More than impressive, really.
He has a hard time making sense of the feeling. He would hope you don’t think you’re under duress - given the fact your relationship in two days has been pleasant. Then again - maybe he’s missed some social cue and you do think that. It’s possible. After all, he doesn’t actually remember the last time he’s spoken verbally to anyone with very, very few exceptions.
He manages to call you again after the fact - opens the call with sincere and heartfelt congrats and feels pleasant seeing you take the compliment in stride.
You land on the subject of programming again, inevitably. He interrogates you a little more over your choice in language - almost like he can’t help himself. It’s basic curiosity. You had said you were the best in ArnoldC. A little research proved that to be true, presence of you in the forums of various esolang pages. He landed on many things. You’re the best at ArnoldC, but you also know Brainfuck for some ridiculous reason.
He thinks you’re a little ridiculous in general.
“It’s really for the love of the game, huh?”
You nod when he asks this. Smiling, bright and unbothered with a soft edge of smug pride that makes the muscles of his face twitch up. “Mhm. I like my little collection.
Odxny doesn’t doubt it for even a minute. He’s seen the proof, but perhaps he doesn’t need to mention that. “Your trophy case of ridiculous language?”
Your eyes come to life all of a sudden. “Wait. A real trophy case would actually be so cool.”
He pauses, blinking as the words sink before a smile breaks onto his face helplessly. “That was not to enable you.”
“Too late. I’m already looking up the ugliest wood trim display cases I can find.”
The laugh comes naturally. “You really are just like this?”
You look proud again. “What? Fun?”
Yes, Odxny thinks but doesn’t say. “Baffling.”
You ask Odxny to elaborate and he does. The conversation flows with frustrating ease. So easily that he mouths off about his plans to you without a second thought. He doesn’t know why he does it. Not really. He’s thought it through over and over - so it’s not like he needs to disclose it. He made his choice.
He thinks about moving it along. About ending the call or simply brushing past without going into any detail.
When he glances at the screen, you’ve got a pillow in your lap and your eyes completely focused on him. There’s that feeling again, alarming clarity in your gaze and brightness that causes him immense unease in the world he’s made of nihilistic, apathetic darkness. There’s a plan, always has been. He’ll do this and disappear and the world will soon forget him. If it happens that way, than at least this loneliness is a choice he’s made for himself and not something the world has cruelly decided for him.
His lips move faster than his head, than even his heart. Compelled by a nameless and brilliant force. “I don’t have any reason to stay. I’m just — tired. Of everything.”
“No reasons? Nothing makes you happy here?”
His response is measured. Quiet. It’s not secret. He finds his voice crumbles around the words anyway as if they’re a confession. “Not for a long time. I don’t feel much of anything, really. It is what it is.”
You frown. He’s seen it all before. Heard it all before. “That’s…”
He cuts you off quickly.
“We just met. And we’ll be strangers again soon enough.” He says with as much conviction and resolve as he can possible manage. Who he’s convincing remains unclear. “So, not to be cold but..you know.”
The disappointment in your face leaves an impression, but you relent. He tries to make amends for the depressing conversation of talking again and you perk up so genuinely it makes want to cry, in a distant and foreign way.
“Catch you later, then.” He says, and closes at out the call. The room falls dark for the second time. He blinks a few times to get rid of the light clouding his vision.
__
Wnpep is eager to teach you on the third day.
You’re eager in reply - matching energy with sharp wit and enthusiasm. Wnepep is a better teacher than Incri by several miles. Evident in how much faster everything falls into place for you. Not that you really need too much help in the first place. You break down the crumbling walls of an insurance scam with ease and come out of the other side more accomplished.
It’s a noble last hack, Odxny thinks. Not unsurprising from Pep - unofficially the most sane and likeable member. He figured it’d be something like this less than a matter of personal vengeance.
You go back and forth for a bit in admin chat. Od types an apology about winding you up and tries not to read too much into the innuendo of it as you reply back with your own faux offended replies. He insists he’s somewhat sorry, and you’re far from believing him.
He finds himself grinning at his screen while he texts you mid conversation. When the realization hits, he almost curls into himself from embarrassment - a hand covering his mouth like it’ll do away with the grave sin.
The inneundo happens twice in one conversation, before you get to call under the premise of a victory toast.
A brief conversation about the last hacks barely leaves room for much else except Odxny plans of total isolation.
“Mm. I should’ve known it would come back to this. Why do you care what I choose to do with myself?”
That baffles you in a terribly genuine way. “Am I not allowed to care about another person?”
Odxny speaks honestly. “You are but I mean…” He trails off. He knows how he feels. “I’m not really a person anymore.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m no one. I’m going to be no one. You have other things to fill your life with.”
There’s a vulnerable edge to his voice that he winces at when he hears it. It’s true isn’t it? All of it is true to Odxny, but especially where he says you have other things to fill your life with. You might share the same hobbies, but he’s seen it. He’s seen how different you are - your livelihoods, your existence. You’d be missed if you suddenly disappeared. Odxny knows the same isn’t true for himself. It’s been like that for a long while now.
(It’s crushing. That’s what makes your very ephemeral existence feel like a burden. Why it casts the shadows of doubt on choices he made, about how he would live so long ago. You care, don’t you? At least, more than anyone else in his life in the present. You care so undeniably, and so obviously and it is all so simple to you.
He almost envies it. Almost resents it, too. It’s such a small shred of humanity, the barest forms of sincerity but it is painfully raw. A split nerve. An open wound It’s not like the server, all of whom have accepted this distant fondness. It’s a delicate thread - spider silk accuracy and just as much strength. There’s conviction in your missing him and it haunts him.)
You think of what to say for a long time before landing on it. “I do. But I can care about multiple things at once,”
It sounds like I care about you too closely. He finds himself shivering. He’s truthful with you, unsure of how else to be when it comes to these conversations.
“That sounds burdensome.” He says. “Isn’t that exhausting?”
You don’t lie to him either. “Sometimes. But it’s worth the trouble.”
“Why?”
“Because I like your company,” You reply. Soft sincerity in your words. More clarity. More painstaking light.
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Why not?”
“If it was that simple then -“ Then it makes it seem like things could be different. He doesn’t say that. Stops himself before it can happen. “I don’t know why I’m bothering to argue. Why do I feel like I need to prove this to you?”
He’s almost afraid to look at your face, wincing when he sees how knowing you look. Not in a condescending way - but genuine, full blown understanding. Like you see through him.
He wonders if he knows you as well as he thought he did.
Your face is so sympathetic. “Are you sure it’s me?”
He cuts the conversation short on his own - making an awkward transition from the topic at hand into whatever he can manage. It’s an awkward fumble - a poor attempt at distracting both of you from this line of thinking. You’re kind enough to let him have it. He asks about your hobbies. You tell him about how you like to try the weirdest things and combinations you can find in a restaurant.
He finds it suits you.
A lot of things suit you. Even your piss poor attempt at the Terminator that he quickly mimics - possessed by god knows what.
You laugh when he does. Brilliant and bubbly and characteristically warm. You say the words through giggles.
“That was so bad!”
“It was a lapse in judgment,” He replies back defensively, smiling against his will. He finds himself laughing too.
“I like your laugh, by the way.”
He pauses caught off-guard. “Oh? My laugh. Oh, uhm. Thank you.”
You make a face that he can’t read. Knowing. In a different way than the last. He feels nervous.
“I have been laughing quite a bit, haven’t I?”
You grin. Smug and deliriously happy. “Sure have.”
He looks away from you. “Ha...Odd.”
You giggle again. Your eyes crinkle at the corners, nose scrunched in genuine delight. It’s a pleasant sound but not because it’s particularly wispy or floaty or delicate. But it’s real. Pleasant in the way the white noise of park during summer. Pleasant like the varied playlist overhead in a record shop. Pleasant like a moment of humanity tucked between everyday. He clears his throat.
“I like your laugh, I think.”
You laugh again, gasping with faux offense. “You think???”
He tries not to feel so grounded by that sound and fails. “Yeah. I think. Laugh again.”
He tries not to add please. You shake your head like you’re reprimanding him.
“No, no, you have to earn that. Make me laugh.”
“Nevermind. Shut up.”
You do laugh again that time. He joins you soon after. “And now you laugh? At me?”
The conversation moves again, comfortable like a tide. You ask about his favorite language and he tells you as much. You’re quiet and growing cheeky, listening to him talk.
“So you do like coding.”
“Maybe a little.” He replies, not giving in. “You remember far too much of what I say.”
The conversation comes to a close again. He thanks you for how nice its been and you make an off-handed attempt to get him to change his mind. You could always talk more. The implication delicate beneath it.
We don’t have to forget each other. Odxny brushes past it - but says he’ll see you tomorrow anyway.
__
Extorting Elimfs childhood friend (?) is an easy enough endeavor. Odxny texts you through out - to ask advice on what things to take when he leaves.
He calls you again when its over too. He can’t find a reason for it - nothing that makes sense. He just wanted to call you. He hasn’t wanted something like that in a while, but he tells himself its fine. This is the last time you’ll ever know each other.
So its fine. He won’t waver.
He’ll just.. call you.
He asks you on your weed habits, mildly surprised when you tell him you smoke and take edibles sometimes too. The conversation loops back to the fund at one point. You don’t hide your displeasure about the whole thing today.
You’ve talked about it already. No need to keep bringing up. But you seem to feel so strongly and Odxny can’t figure out why. Can’t shake the feeling of wanting to know why every single time.
“Is it really so hard to believe I’ve come to like you in a few days?” You ask, after probing.
“In a way that matters, yes.”
You frown at him when he says that. It’s the most upset he’s seen you look, if he can call it that. You’ve never been upset when he’s been rude or insulting - but this is bothering you. It doesn’t help him pull away from you.
He says it again. Reinforces how temporary this all is. He’s trying to convince one of you. Both of you, maybe, of his unimportance.
“I don’t think that little of you.”
He finds it hard to reply to that. It’s that feeling against. It makes him uncomfortable. It’s not empty platitudes or some vague sense of responsibility for his life. All of it is real, and all of it is meaningful in how plain it is. You make it seem easy.
“It’s life. It’s normal. People come, people go.”
You shake your head. “Not for me. I can’t forget you that easily.”
He wishes you would. He’s painfully, painfully relieved that you wouldn’t it. He voices neither thought.
“Then- try! You’re putting so much on yourself, and for what? You don’t stand to gain anything.”
You shrug. “Peace of mind. Knowing you’re still out there.”
It’s heavy. The implication is heavy. He’s not going to kill himself. He doesn’t want that anymore, though he thought about it. At the beginning. Loneliness is more painful when you have memories of what not being that way was like - he thinks. At the start of all that loss, the hollowness bared an almost painful gravity inside of him.
It’s like being told to breathe or blink - becoming conscious of what was once a natural function, how full life was once when it’s escaped. He doesn’t want to kill himself, but living is meaningless.
These things aren’t paradoxical to him. They haven’t been for all this time.
(They weren’t until he met you at least. A mirror of wanting. Odxny looks at you and sees life reflected back. Despite it not being his, its moving. It’s beautiful in a human way, reachable. Tangible. Earned.
Wherever you are. Whenever you’re together, the black hole inside of himself seems to fade back into average planetary darkness. He becomes cruelly human again, feeling warmth and laughter.
He’s tells himself he’s not afraid of dying and that’s mostly true. He’s most afraid of living. Afraid he won’t be able to learn it again.)
He manages to tell you some of what he’s thinking. He has no clue how to start over. He doesn’t know if it’s possible. You don’t feed him any false hope, but he tells you how he sees it. You’re feeling pity for him right? And you should figure that out sooner rather than later.
“Is it really that easy for you?”
You shake your head. You’re smiling but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “It isn’t. But I have to try.”
“Is that what you’re doing with me?”
“What?”
“Is this…?”
He cuts the call off when he hears himself, unsure of what answer he’s hoping for. The realization dawns on him too much, too quickly. The feeling of hope is loud in his chest but there is another feeling, embarrassing in it’s swiftness that follows shortly after.
Oh.
Oh.
__
The servers shuts down after a mildly sappy adventure to close up shop. The closest Odxny has gotten to flirting with you in his own way. He’s sad to see everyone go, despite there being no other choice.
It’s easier than he thought it’d be. To give you his number he means, even after shutting the entire server down. After leaving everything behind. He gives you the choice to make. Call me if you still want it - a silent promise.
Maybe because deep down - some part of him always wanted to make this choice. Just maybe.
Your voice is different over the phone line. A little clearer, spoken softer. Just as lovely as it was the first time he heard it. Maybe more. Maybe.
The city beneath him is bright. So bright. It doesn’t hurt to look at, he thinks.
__
You call him every day.
You’ve been doing it for months.
He thought, at some point, you’d let up or start to forget. He’s been waiting on it to happen as horrible as it sounds. Like some self-fulfilling prophecy, he’d slip back into the background as is natural. A proof of his nonexistence, if you will.
You don’t forget though. He almost wonders if he’s dreaming when it happens. There’s a routine between you two, these days. You have your own life that you’ve been living the same as normal. When it’s night time for you, though - you hop onto your desktop and call Od like you’re two very average people.
There’s nothing solid to define your relationship aside from friendship as is. This is less frustrating than he expected it to be. Getting to know you better has only made him like you more. Your relationship is solid in a strange way. It’s been about six months total, and as corny as it sounds - Odxny feels like he’s known you for his entire life. You understand him in an intimate way, with vulnerable tenderness and radical acceptance.
He kind of misses the privacy of his old stomping grounds, but he doesn’t mind speaking though discord. It feels… normal. In a not displeasing way. You mostly talk to talk about whatever comes to mind. Sometimes it’s your job search, other times it’s your part-time or friend drama. You’re vibrant as always. Without the wall of anonymity, Odxny gets to know of you like he’s just your average person. He finds he really, really likes that.
You play games together frequently. He’s never been interested in cozy gaming, but you play Minecraft and Stardew Valley together per your request. Odxny streams himself playing Ocarina of Time for you on Discord in the background sometimes too, and you keep it on when you’ve got work to do or you’re cooking or something else. There’s something very mundane to it.
You’re not doing anything with him today though. You’re calling him on facetime, rather than at your desktop. You’ve made the executive decision to laze around and Odxny has no problem joining you though you speak less than usual as a result of being sleepy. You had a long shift yesterday so perhaps Odxny can’t blame you.
“Need to get better shoes. For walking and stuff.” You say thoughtlessly. The corners of his lips twitch up.
“Yeah?”
You nod. Your face is smushed against your pillow at an unflattering angle. He smiles a little.
“Yeah. I’m on my feet for like nine hours when I serve and it hurts wearing flats. Need something sturdier even it diminishes my drip.”
He laughs at that. “Please never say that again.”
You continue onwards. “Decreases my aura, even. But alas, utility comes first.”
He snickers as he glances at you through the phone. You’re propped against one of his monitors as he does work on his computer. He’s getting back into programming for the love of the game, just seeing what he can do.
“Want help looking?”
“Feels a little ridiculous asking a super pro-hacker to shop Sketchers with me.”
“You seriously thinking of buying Sketchers?”
You laugh lightly. “Maybe I’ll get tipped more if I get the light-up ones.”
“Please don’t.”
“Hater.”
You break out into genuine laughter as Odxny shakes his head in despair. It’s something you’d do, no doubt. You sigh.
“I really do want a break from work.” You roll around on your mattress. Odxny can hear your rustling but can’t see you much. “The chains of capitalism shackle me in place. Woe is me.”
Odxny thinks on what you’ve said for a long while in silence. The question comes up every now and again though he’s never brave enough to ask it. His ludicrous amount of disposable income however is still sitting in his bank, collecting dust. It’s been six months and he’s hardly made a dent in it.
“Do you want to come visit?” He asks, cringing at the sound of his own voice. The words are strained and a little too eager. “I can pay the difference for expenses for wages and stuff. And, uh. Uhm,”
He loses his train of thought trying to speak, worsened by the way you pop onto his screen when he says that. Your expression is unreadable to him, comfortable and even. You smile a little as you lift the phone so he can see what you look like laying in your bed. Your face is in full view.
“It’d be a little weird to visit you before we start dating officially, no?”
His eyes go wide at the implication. You grin, mischief and mirth making your eyes practically beam. He can feel a blush crawl up his neck as soon as he registers it.
“Excuse me? Why are you saying that like it’s already been decided?” He bites back, not sure what else he could say.
“So you don’t want to date me?”
“I didn’t- you - damn it,” He groans at his own bluster as he giggles on the other side of the line. So cheeky. Damn him for liking it and damn you for being cute. “…You are saying you like me right?”
Your face softens. He can feel his heartbeat quicken. “Uh-huh. Just wanted to take it slow. But I’ve liked you for a long time.”
“How long is that, exactly?”
You shrug playfully and the fact he can’t be within reach to kiss you feels especially harrowing. “A secret.” You smile again, all trouble. “So. Wanna date?”
“Terrible confession. Zero stars,” He says petulantly. He leans back in his chair and finds himself smiling uncontrollably. “Fine. I guess.”
Your laugh fills his room. He doesn’t get tired of hearing it. His face hurts from smiling.
__
He manages to stave off on the anxiety of you coming to see him for a lot longer than he thought possible.
Making arrangements proves to be a little difficult. You have to tell your roommates that you’ll be gone for a while but promise to still pay rent and explain to your boss where you’re going. You have a good enough relationship and have been working long enough for them to agree to keep a spot open so you can start working when you come back.
After that, there’s the matter of Visas. Odxny goes out of his way to make that process go much faster than normal, though he doesn’t actually tell you. Once all of that’s sorted, there’s living arrangements. Try as you might to insist to live somewhere else, his place is too spacious for him to let you stay anywhere else. You can take the guest room.
He pretends that all of this is just happening in his imagination. He doesn’t even know the last time anyone came over, let alone lived with him. He does his best to make things presentable, and makes a guest room for you to live in should you desire. He even buys more decor (plants and things) to make it look… less like a cave and more like a home.
Nothing really feels real until the day arrives though. It’s a long flight and difficult trip. You refused to let him pay for the tickets so he moved it around to get you into first class both ways through other methods.
You text him the terminal, the arrival time, any and all delays. Still. None of it feels real until he’s already waiting for you near the bags. He can feel his heart race, his lungs short of air. He’s never experienced something so ridiculously contradictory in his entire life. He wants to run away while feeling stuck in place.
The anticipation nearly kills him.
He would recognize your voice anywhere though. Like he did for so many days alone in the dark. A hand waves high, shouting as loud as it can.
“It’s you!”
The sound of sneakers skidding across tile floors make his breath hitch. His eyes go wide as you stand still in front of him, luggage in hand and a million-watt smile on your face. He feels his heart beat so loud, he wonders if he’s going to throw up.
“Hey.” He says, dumbly.
“Hi!”
__
The adjustment period to living together isn’t what he expects.
It’s been a long time since he’s been so close to another human being. It becomes clear that you’re really living together though when your things end up in the bathroom completely incidentally. There’s something about finding your sleep shirt on a towel rack that makes reality settle in. You’re living together.
He’d be stupid not to notice the purposeful distance between you. An attempt to be thoughtful and not overwhelm him. It’s never awkward when you’re together. You eat together, watch movies and play games while sitting too close on the couch. You’ve been on a date in the two weeks you’ve spent, and it barely took any convincing on your end to make him go along with you.
Isolation aside though, Odxny is not clueless to the conventions of modern dating. You avoid touching him too casually. He doesn’t blame you, but he can’t help but crave your presence with a little more bittersweet longing as the days pass. He has to get past it or bring it up eventually, but it feels like something he’s never going to get over somehow.
The opportunity to do so gets thrown at him all at once. You’ve been living together for sixteen days. A conversation about love languages is what undoes it.
“Whats your love language, Od?”
He gives you a quizzical look. “Dunno actually. Never bothered to look.”
“I’d guess… hm. Quality time maybe? Or words of affirmation.”
He shrugs as he sits next to you on the couch, glancing at your phone as you read through the different ones. “What’s yours?”
“Physical touch. I’m super touchy. With anyone who will let me, honestly. Bad habits.”
Odxny gives you a long look as you say it. He debates if he should bring it up.
“You don’t have to be so careful around me, you know?”
You look up at him, startled by the comment. Several things pass over your face before you settle on an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s not like I don’t want to. I just don’t want to be too much for you.”
“That wouldn’t happen.” He says automatically. You laugh good-naturedly.
“Your confidence is assuring, but you underestimate how touchy I am. I’m afraid of I get my hands on you, I’ll never let go again,”
He thinks he wants that more than is normal. He shakes his head. “I don’t mind.”
You give him a long look, seeming struck by an idea, before humming and standing up. You turn around with your hand out towards him. His brows furrow in bewilderment.
“Have some faith.”
He takes your hand and stands up with you. He likes that he’s taller than you. Staring at you, he feels your fingers clasp around his hand and his heart thuds - loud and messy.
“Your room or mine?”
“What?”
You laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter. Or don’t actually, but I don’t bear lewd intentions.”
He crinkles his nose at the word usage and laughs. “Shut up.”
“Just trust me, okay?”
He concedes with embarassing swiftness.
“Okay.”
__
You lead Odxny to the guest room you’ve been living in for the last two weeks. The bed is well-made and all the new furniture he bought is occupying so many of your belongings. It makes him dizzy. You shut the door behind him as you lead him in. It just feels especially surreal.
Wordless, you let go of his hand and hop up onto your bed. Once you’re laying down, you prop up on your side with your elbow and pat the empty space next to you, smiling at him as you do. Once it clicks what your asking, he can feel his face grow hot. He can’t refuse it though, and he doesn’t want too.
The sheets you bought together smell like you. Between there’s practically no distance between you at this angle. He’s gotten to look at you plenty through these few days but it’s different. You scoot impossibly close to him until there’s nothing separating you.
Your breath is warm - a soft exhale leaving your lips as you inch closer.
“What’re we doing?” He asks in a murmur, stone stiff. You smile, coyly.
“Touching each other.”
He frowns at the joke. Your expression goes a touch serious right after. The sincerity is debilitating. “Can I touch you?”
He nods. Can’t do much more than that.
He stares at you with impending, long-suffering longing as you bring a single hand to his face and cradle his neck. He flinches unintentionally, but pulls your hand back when you try to move it. He wants this. You relax a little when he does that.
Your hands are softer. Softer than a heartbeat. He can feel the various cuts and scars from years of working against his skin but they’re still so soft. He can feel how warm you in such a brief touch his chest aches. Your hands cradle his face tenderly, thumb brushing across his lip with a smile brighter than thousands of lights. Something in your expression wreaks havoc on his heart. Something so raw and so gentle and so full within it - all directed towards him.
It’s been so long. So long. He’s never wanted something so bad he couldn’t remember needing. He’s never wanted to be closer to someone than he does to you in the moment.
“You’re handsome,” You say, so sweetly. Not a confession, but gentle appraisal. It’s rare he cries but he wants too. “I like looking at you. Can I kiss you?”
“Please.” He rasps, gravel in his voice unfamiliar.
You hum a little. Closing the space between you with a press of lips. It’s not chaste. Odxny is grateful for how long and how deep you linger. He wants it so badly. He wants you in some damning and unforgiving way. How could a human being feel so warm? Feel so pleasant with so little?
You press your foreheads together. His hand trembles when they grip onto your waist but you encourage him just a little. It’s just a kiss. His heart might beat out of him. It’s just a kiss. He thinks he loves you.
Your hand moves away from his face. You let it go underneath his loose shirt to touch his shoulder, running your palm down the plane of his chest. You squeeze his waist, and wrap your arms around his back and pull him to you until your bodies touch somewhere in the middle.
You guide his face to your neck and chest as you hold him. He grips onto you tight in response, a gasp in the back of his lungs at the sudden sensation. You coo above him, soft and light - your fingers threading through his hair and nails massaging his scalp.
Your voice sounds above him, despite how deep in a haze he is. He can’t do anything but cling to you with impossible longing. You speak softly as you pet him. Your heartbeat soothes his.
“I’m glad you’re here.” You tell him. There’s that familiar clarity that makes him want to cry. “I’m glad you let me come with you.”
He can’t think of anything to say back. It’s a soul-shattering emotion. “I love you.”
You laugh wetly above him. “I love you, too. So much.” And then much softer. “Let’s be together for a long time.”
__
You lay in each others arms until sunset. In small talk and silent murmurs. It takes him hours to work up the courage to kiss you again - but only minutes to take it further.
It’s desperate. Terribly. Inevitable. You’re beautiful in a way that is undescribable, best expressed through his teeth on your neck and his hands all over where he can reach - each grip and thrust and bite a reminder. You’re pretty when you’re pleased, warmth reaching up inside of him whenever you make the right face.
He buries himself in you. You’re soft and warm and beautiful and he wants to stay with you. Time is a thief. He damns the sun when it tears you from him come morning.
__
He decides to make breakfast when you wake up. Nothing complicated. You go to shower after him and he plates up toast and eggs and other various things. It’s half done when you come downstairs.
Your skin is still damp, and you smell of vanilla and soap. Your coffee sits in a cup on the table as you pad over to him. He turns to look at you as you reach your hand up and cup his face. You pepper a kisses along his cheeks stopping at his lips for the last one before you’re satisfied.
He fails in his attempt not to blush.
“Morning.” You grin. He tries not to be sick at the domesticity of it all and fails.
“Yeah. Morning.”
You sit at the counter and drink your coffee, glancing outside the window. “It’s bright outside.”
Odxny can’t tear his eyes off of you. “Yeah...” He agrees. He’s not torn his gaze away. “Very bright.”
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✮ a/n ; i want all real life compsci men to kick rocks but odxny sweeped me off my feet in a way i can only describe as humiliating. he is a bit like astarion for me in that i see a lot of myself in him at least in the past. he is also incredibly babygirl and uhm . other things (fine. he's very gorjus.) but i truthfully was most compelled by his idealized idea of isolation. as the fic will show it resonated with me as a fellow compsci dork who also tends to isolate like crazy LOL
this fic was like a demon that possessed me. literally no meds, no caffiene - just balls to the wall demonic possesion of needing something out of my system LMAOO. and adhd of course. im working on all the other stuff too i promise. consider this a short interlude 👍🏾
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#seekL x reader#odxny x reader#seekL#odxny#girl how the hell am i meant to tag this#normal fandoms tagging ettiquette means no fic but i dont think it applies here#what is my problem so genuinely
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